It’s Always Us (Abandoned Brothers #3)

Chapter 44

LEX

I put a hand under my belly to try to help roll myself over in this tiny, crinkly, hard bed. I boost myself up and grab the railing, shoving my hips to the side to let gravity assist.

My arm and leg are numb after lying on that side for so long. My eyes land on Mark, sleeping in the chair next to me. His muscular arms are crossed over his chest, almost like he’s protecting himself, and I really want him to crawl back in bed with me. He spent half the night holding me until a nurse came in to reposition the monitors, and then we decided we needed more room.

Mark stretches his arms over his head. He rubs his eyes, and then those dark brown circles fall on me.

“Hey.” His mouth curls into a small smirk. The one that makes my stomach hop, skip, and jump. “How you doin’?” He says it all confident and sexy-like, and I bite my lip, unable to hide the blush creeping up my busted-up face.

He pushes the footstool down and stands to stretch his shoulder better. I can tell by the look on his face it’s sore. My mind starts spinning with questions. If he stays, I wonder what will happen to his PT schedule, training, meetings . . . everything that fills his days.

“Hey.” He moves to the side of the bed, leaning down to kiss me. “What happened? What’s going on in here?” He kisses me again before sitting on the edge of the bed and spreading his hand across my bulging stomach.

He smiles, feeling the kicks from one of our little monsters.

I run my fingers over my sore forehead. A dull headache still lingers, but it’s much better than yesterday.

“It’s back to real life today,” I say, remembering how I savored every moment last night in this quiet room with him. I knew then that it’ll be anything but calm or peaceful when we leave here.

He brushes a strand of hair away from my face and tucks it behind my ear. “Yeah. I have some thoughts about that.”

I raise an eyebrow and then lower that sucker right back down when a burning sensation tears over my skin.

Mark runs his finger over the bandage. “Hey, be careful.” He takes my hand and links his fingers with mine, bringing them to his chest. “We have a lot to talk about, but I want you to know how sorry I am for letting you come back here alone. I was mad . . . no, I was furious with myself for never being here. I should’ve been here.”

“Mark, that’s not what I wanted. I wanted you to be free. That’s it. I would’ve done anything.”

He presses my hand flat to his chest. “You did.” He closes his eyes. “But now I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I don’t care. If that means football is over, then—”

“No.” I try to sit up, but it takes me too stinking long, so I settle for resting precariously on an elbow. “No. We need to get Bree permanently, but you have to keep playing. We didn’t go through all of this for you to quit.”

Mark helps me sit up, and I reach for him, pulling his head to mine. Somehow, his giving up football makes it feel like both of us are losing everything we suffered for.

“Please. I want to go with you. I want to have these babies and a room for them that’s decorated and just right. I want to crawl in bed with you each night and wake up with you each morning in our own house. I want to fix up the Bronco and figure out what old thing I’ll make new next.”

I take a breath before my guts come spilling out my eyes, but it’s difficult. “And I want to sit in the stands and watch you do what you were born to do. I want to watch you play and wait for you when the game is over and be there like I never was.”

Saying it out loud feels so incredibly self-centered. “Please. Tell me we’ll do that . . . somehow. ”

His finger comes under my chin, tipping it up to look at him. “I will do everything I possibly can. I promise.” He shakes his head. “But I won’t leave. Lex, I won’t.” One tear slips out, and he pushes it away. “Ok?”

I nod, not wanting to accept it.

His lips press to mine quick and soft. “Now, while we’re waiting to sort through all the shit that’s flung off the fan, I have some things to do.”

I wrap my arms around his middle, holding him to me. “Yeah?”

“First, I need to know if you have a preference on the kind of truck we get. I’m calling a dealer today.”

I lift my head. “Really. You’ll just call them and put in an order.”

He grins. “Baby, in case you’re not aware, I’ve made millions. You’re my wife without a prenup, so if you want to call and place the order to your specifications, I’m down with that. I’ll give you my credit card.”

I laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

“No, what’s ridiculous is that old beater lasted this long.”

I push him away. “Beater? She was in mint condition.”

He stands. “Not anymore. So, one of us is calling, you decide. Then, I’m calling my trainer to find a private gym and getting his ass out here. While that’s happening, I was thinking about talking to a realtor.”

I frown, but . . . Ouch. “A realtor?”

“Yeah. I told Cal I’m shacking up with you guys, but let’s be real. We need our own space that’s not over your Grandpa’s room.”

“You’re just going to buy a house?”

One shoulder shrugs as he scrolls his phone. “Maybe. Or maybe rent. I don’t know. We’ll see what’s out there.”

“And then what happens if you get picked up by a team?”

His fingers stop moving, and his eyes peek out from under his long, dark eyelashes. “I’m not thinking about that.”

“Mark, Bree is just getting settled. We can’t . . . ” I pause, not wanting to crush his enthusiasm. “I think we should start with you meeting her. She’ll need time to wrap her head around this. Her whole world has been ripped apart.”

His stance softens, and he moves closer to me. “Ok. When are we doing the big introduction?”

“She’s at school. I thought I’d pick her up, and then we can talk to her.”

He nods slowly. “How do you think she’ll take it? ”

“She’s going to be surprised. She’s the sweetest, kindest, brightest girl.” I see the uncharacteristic hesitancy and uneasiness overcome him. “She’ll love you.”

There’s one thing we haven’t talked about, and avoiding it won’t get us anywhere, so I tiptoe into it. “Can we talk about your mom?”

He sits down on the end of the bed, setting his phone aside. “How much trouble is she in?”

“Her court date is coming up. She’s being charged with possession, manufacturing and delivery, and child endangerment.” I let that sit for a moment. “The DA is on the hunt based on prior convictions.”

“And you have custody of Bree?” he asks, turning to face me.

“I’ve been appointed temporary guardianship for now.”

He stiffens. “What does that mean? Does the social worker know about me? That we’re married, and I’m her brother.”

“I told her.” This is where the mess only deepens, and the old wounds will be ripped wide open. “Before I left, I told Linda about us. She knows we’re married. I’m pretty sure that has something to do with her using again.”

I watch Mark’s face carefully as he processes.

“She doesn’t want us to have guardianship.”

His head pops up. “What?” His eyes search my face. “She doesn’t want us to have guardianship or me?”

He stands. “What the hell is she thinking? She sure didn’t have any issue signing me away. All they had to do was give her a pen.” He paces along the large window. “She’s nothing but a selfish, self-centered piece of . . . ”

He doesn’t finish as he turns toward me.

I sit up a little. “She’s afraid you’ll take Bree from her.”

“She lost her all on her own when she decided to deal and put Bree at risk with those . . . ” His tone is fierce, and I understand his anger. “I’ll get a lawyer. Maggie knows an excellent one. She had to go through something similar with her siblings. There’s no way a judge would . . . ” He rubs his forehead. “She can’t have a say in this. Bree can’t go into some stranger’s home. Who knows what could happen to her.”

My brain has traveled down the same horrible path, but I can’t let it go very far .

“She seriously can’t have a say in this. Does she?” His anger has turned to worry.

“The social worker told me to sit tight and wait for her court date. She likely won’t have much of a say if she’s sentenced. We’ve got a good case, given that you are blood-related, a law-abiding citizen, and I don’t think it’ll hurt that you’re a public figure and loaded.”

“How long is this going to take?”

I shrug. “You know the system works at a snail’s pace.” I shift to get more comfortable, needing to tell him this last piece. “Mark, I know you have terrible memories and feelings about your mom. But . . . those aren’t what Bree knows.”

I wait for him to look at me. “You need to be careful. Her heart is breaking, and doesn’t understand what’s happening. I’ve tried to explain it to her, but Linda is her mom.” I don’t want to say this last part, but I have to. “And until now, she’s been a good mom to Bree.”

Mark’s chest expands as he inhales, and then he lets it out long and slow. “Ok. I’ll watch what I say.”

“Come here.”

I make room again on the bed and extend my hand. It takes a second before he comes to sit with me. I wrap my arms around his middle and rest my chin on his shoulder.

“I know you want to dive in and make this all better. The new truck. The house. Bree. I love you so much for it. We need to go slow. One thing at a time.”

His lips press against my sore head. “I suck at one thing at a time.”

“Clearly.” I move his hand to my stomach, where our twins are causing a ruckus.

“I knew exactly what I was doing there.” His tone is low and stirs my belly.

I push his jaw toward me and find his lips. “You really did. Now, what do you think about heading out there and charming one of these nurses into letting me out of here?”

He pulls away just enough to hold my gaze. “You want me to go flirt with the nurses?”

“I didn’t say flirt. Just ask really nicely and smile. I’m sure that’s all it will take. ”

“Is this how it’s going to be now? Me being your side piece and working it to get you what you want.”

“Well, I’m married to the sexiest man alive.”

His lips brush against mine. “Should I take my shirt off, too?”

I hit him with the pillow. “Absolutely not. That is reserved for me and me alone.”

He stands. “Oh, possessive, are we?” He grins, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

He strolls toward the door.

“Mark.” He turns back, holding the door open. “If you wink, I bet they’ll also let you snag me a donut or something from their stash.”

“Got it. Offer sexual favors to get you a cookie.”

It’s my turn to grin as I watch the tall, gorgeous miracle, who somehow happens to be my husband, leave to work his magic and get me out of here. And maybe some kind of sweet treat that I need to adhere to my anxiety and temporarily squander it.