Mark (Next Generation Carter Brother #9)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Mark

This is it; the moment that could change how the rest of our getaway plays out. Winning gets you bragging rights, something us Carters take seriously. Coming last will mean you drink a concoction of alcohol from a dirty trainer. None of us wants to do it, but one of us will.

And it will not be my team.

“I’m telling you, it’s the Antarctic Desert,” Freya swears, tapping the pad Faith is writing the answers on.

Already, three groups have been disqualified for looking at their phones. It only left a dozen or so more tables in the running. We have this in the bag. Yet the woman next to me insists on testing my patience. The same woman who refused to drink alcohol a couple of hours ago, swearing she wasn’t drinking again, is now on her eighth cocktail of the night.

Now she’s trying to force Faith to write down an answer that is clearly wrong.

“Don’t you dare write that down,” I warn Faith. “It’s the Sahara Desert.”

“No, it’s not,” Freya snorts. “The Sahara isn’t even the second largest desert.”

“Guys, we have thirty seconds,” Faith warns.

“Rock paper scissor it,” Beau demands. “I am not drinking out of that fucking shoe.”

“Then write down Sahara,” I demand.

“Don’t. I swear to God, if you make us lose this because you won’t trust me, I will push you overboard,” Freya warns.

“It’s not the Antarctic,” I argue. “You should have stayed off the drink. You aren’t thinking clearly.”

“Yes, it is, and fuck you,” she growls. “Faith, write it down now. I’m one-hundred percent certain it’s the Antarctic. I would tell you if I wasn’t sure. I wouldn’t risk it.”

I glance down at the menace. I should have known she would have a competitive streak in her, but she doesn’t understand a Carter’s need to win. “Do you want us to suffer through them bragging about us losing to the easiest question? I know it’s not important to you, but this means a lot to us. We don’t lose.”

She arches a brow. “You sound so stupid right now.”

“It’s the Sahara Desert,” I repeat.

“Again, you sound stupid. Please remember this moment, because when I prove you are wrong, you’re going to wish your family won. I’ll make you feel so small, you won’t come out of your room for the rest of this week.”

I snort and turn to my sister, who is handing the paper over to one of the members of staff. “Please tell me you put Sahara Desert.”

“Sorry, I’m going with Freya’s answer,” she admits, not even an ounce of remorse in her tone.

I gasp. “You didn’t.”

“I did. She seems confident with her answer,” she explains.

“You betrayed your own flesh and blood,” I accuse.

Freya clears her throat, holding her phone in my face. I narrow my gaze at the question she searched in Google. What is the biggest desert? A flush rises up my neck. “Nothing to say?” she asks, amused.

I cross my arms over my chest. “It’s an easy mistake. The Sahara seemed like a reasonable choice.”

“It’s not even second,” she gloats, enjoying this way too much.

I narrow my gaze on her. “I don’t like your tone.”

She pats my arm, tilting her head to the side. “I mean, it’s an easy question. Don’t hate me because you got it wrong.”

“To be fair to Mark, I even thought you were wrong because the Antarctic is cold. I thought deserts were meant to be hot,” Beau states.

Freya shrugs. “I guess it’s an assumption most jump to. I guess it’s because movies have characters desperate for shelter and water. The Antarctic Desert is the coldest desert on Earth. The temperature can hit -89°C,” she replies before turning to me. “You feel really stupid right now, don’t you?”

“Keep teasing me,” I dare her.

Her lips twitch. “What are you going to do if I do?”

This woman.

She makes me want to fuck her and spank her arse at the same time.

Both of which will be pleasurable.

I lean in close, until my lips softly brush against hers. “Keep pushing me and you’ll need a safe word tonight. Don’t worry, you’ll like it.”

Her perfectly shaped eyebrow arches. “Aww, words like that make my legs want to social distance.”

I smirk at the sass and run my hand up her bare thigh, under the flimsy material. Her breath hitches as my thumb brushes the lace of her underwear. “Oh, they’ll definitely be spread later.”

Her pupils dilate as she swallows. “Are you as confident in that as you were with your answer earlier? Because I’ve got to tell you, I’m not feeling the confidence.”

My gaze meets hers, unwavering, just like my reply. “One hundred percent certain,” I rasp, throwing her words back at her.

She lifts her chin. “I like my men smart. Sorry, you don’t cut it.”

“Freya, Mum wants you to come and join us. They didn’t pay for you to come so you could hang out with strangers,” Esther announces, interrupting our stare off. “You’re being rude and selfish.”

I slide my hand out of her shorts and notice Danny’s gaze on my hand, his jaw clenched. Fuck him. He had her and stupidly let her go.

Freya lets out a breath. “I never asked anyone to pay for me. I never planned to come. And if I knew a string would be attached to it, I wouldn’t have let them talk me into coming.”

“Do you not care that you’re upsetting your sister?” Danny questions. “You’ve barely spared any time for her, and when she tries to approach you, you do nothing but cause arguments. You never used to be this much of a bitch.”

“Watch it,” I warn.

“One moment,” Freya tells her, grabbing her phone.

“What are you doing?” Esther grits out, not liking that Freya dismissed them.

“Adding what you said to the list of things I don’t give a fuck about,” Freya answers sweetly.

Charlotte snorts, and Esther switches her glare her way, causing her to snuggle closer to Drew. “God, you need to grow up, Freya,” she snaps.

“Come on, Esther. There’s nothing more we can do for her,” Danny soothes.

“Do for her?” I question, and Freya’s hand on my thigh tenses at the bite in my tone. “What exactly do you think needs doing?”

“Yes, please, do enlighten me,” Freya pleads, her sarcasm loud.

He pauses, his gaze slipping down to Freya, and although there’s longing there, there is also something else. Something that gets my back up. It’s pity.

“We’ve tried to help you transition to accept us being together, but you are determined to keep a wedge between us. It doesn’t have to be that way. We are family now, whether you like it or not, so you need to get used to it. I’m sick of tip-toeing around you, and I’m tired of you taking it out on my wife. Soon enough, there is going to be a baby. I’ve been telling Esther you’ll snap out of this mood before they come, but now I can see that isn’t going to happen. You have spent the entire time here acting like a child who isn’t getting her way. Would it really hurt you to spend time with your family? Like Esther said, your parents paid for you to come so you could be a part of this, but you’ve gone out of your way to make sure you aren’t.”

Freya surprises me when she bursts out laughing. “Sorry,” she chokes out, glancing away. But the minute she looks back at them, more laughter echoes around the room and tears begin to roll down her cheeks.

“You think this is funny?” Esther grits out.

Freya meets my gaze. She isn’t faking her laughter. She truly is finding it hilarious. “Transition,” she splutters out, clutching her stomach.

“Babe,” I call out, trying to fight my own laughter.

“This isn’t fucking funny,” Esther snaps.

Freya straightens, losing her smile. “No, it’s fucking hilarious.”

Danny narrows his eyes. “Do you really think we buy this act?”

“I don’t give a fuck what you think. I think it’s hilarious that you still believe you hold some sort of relevance in my life. I hate to break it to you, but you stopped being relevant to me a very long time ago. And since we’re no longer tip-toeing around each other, I will add that I don’t have to do anything for you. For any of you. I think I’ve done a fucking lot considering the circumstances, but that is all you will get from me.”

I watch as Esther’s jaw hardens, and then it comes to me. “You can’t stand that it’s not getting to her,” I accuse. I had mentioned it before to Freya, but it feels different now. Darker. Like she likes having something Freya wants. Only, Freya doesn’t want him.

Esther clutches her husband’s hand. “This is between family. If we wanted your input, we would have asked for it.”

“I’m right though, aren’t I? You can’t stand the fact she doesn’t care, so you want to force yourselves on her so you can rub salt into a wound. I hate to break it to you, but there’s no wound. You are wasting your time.”

“And how would you know?” she snottily replies.

“Because I’ve had her. She fucked me like she couldn’t get enough of me. She begged for more even when I thought I’d hurt her. No one that responsive is pining after another. They aren’t fucking someone out of their system. I’ve been with girls who are like that. So trust me when I tell you, Freya isn’t one of them.”

“Classy,” Esther mutters, curling her lip at Freya.

I glance at Danny now, reading him, gauging his reaction. He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like that I’ve had Freya in that way. And going from the way his eyebrows lower, he hasn’t had her like that either.

“You are just as bad as your wife. At least she’s obvious,” I tell him. “But you get off on thinking Freya wants you. It makes you feel like a man.”

Freya snorts. “Not a chance.”

He narrows his eyes. “You’re wrong.”

“I don’t think I am,” I reply.

“She’s my sister,” Esther growls.

“You throw that around like it means something but it clearly meant nothing to you,” I fire back.

“If Mum and Dad want to spend time with me, then they can come over. They’re welcome to join us.”

“I’m pretty sure they left five minutes ago,” Charlotte blurts out.

Sure enough, they are no longer there.

“Couldn’t have wanted to spend time with her that much,” I state.

Freya sighs. “Just go. You are killing the mood.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you back in the mood,” I promise, pressing my lips to her neck.

“Why are you still here?” Freya mutters when they don’t leave.

“Come on, you promised me an early night,” Danny states, placing his hands on her hips.

But his fucking gaze is on my woman.

I don’t look away, not until the fucker turns around and leaves.

Charlotte’s shoulders drop and she lets out a heavy breath. “That was awkward as hell.”

“Did you have to go into detail?” Faith accuses, glaring at me. “There are some things a sister doesn’t need to hear.”

I shrug. “They needed to hear it.” I glance at Freya and pull her close. “You pissed?”

“No, it was rather amusing,” she admits, then pats my cheek. “But if you get salt in your drink at some point, you know why.”

My lips twitch. “I can live with that.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, the moment you have all been waiting for. The results are in, and let me tell you, these scores are a first,” the announcer starts. “Up in first place, winning the six hundred dollars, is…” Drums play over the speakers and everyone sits up. “Table four.”

Uncle Max stands, cheering so loud it hurts my head. He jumps onto his chair, throwing his hands up. “That is how it’s done.” He points to the tables we’re all at. “Are you entertained?” he roars, banging his chest.

“I’m embarrassed,” Hayden hisses, dropping down in her seat. “You’re embarrassing.”

“How many did I win by?” he asks the announcer.

She’s startled by the demand. “Um, we don’t—”

“Yeah you do. Everyone keeps a score,” he states, turning to the guy at the table with the pieces of paper we wrote on. “Come on, how much did I crush these losers by?”

The young man’s lips twitch. “By one.”

“By one?” Max asks, his eyebrows narrowing. “Count them again.”

“I assure you, it was by one,” he swears.

“I want to see,” Max growls.

The woman announcing laughs. “Can we get through to the runner ups?”

“I can wait,” Max confirms, letting Lake pull him down from the chair.

“Jesus, you weren’t lying,” Freya muses. “I thought he was going to throw his pint at that guy.”

“It may still happen,” Faith admits on a breath.

The woman on the stage glances down at the piece of paper, her eyes widening. “Well, this is a first,” she muses. “Taking second place, we have a tie.” Another guy runs onto the stage, whispering something in her ear. She nods and lifts the mic back up. “But we are told you’ll all get to share this prize, which is an excursion for everyone at your tables.”

I sit on the edge of my seat, pressing my hands together as Liam yells, “Come on, tell us.”

“In second place,” she begins as the drums begin to play, “are tables six and seven.”

I stand, lifting Freya up off her seat to spin her around. “We fucking did it.”

She laughs as I place her on her feet. “Aren’t you glad Faith listened to someone who knew what they were talking about?” she asks.

“Why are you bringing that up?” I growl, holding her close.

“You heard her. There was only one point separating us from the winner. If we had listened to you, we would be coming in third.”

I cup her jaw. “Then it’s a good job no one ever listens to me,” I reply, then reach down, kissing her, tasting her.

She clutches the back of my neck, pressing her delicious body against mine.

When I pull back, her eyes are glazed over, her lips swollen. “Yeah, we aren’t staying for the tribute band. You got a problem with that?” I rasp.

She shakes her head, so I kiss her one last time before I turn to the others. “Who did we tie with?”

“Dad’s table,” Faith answers.

“I fucking told you to listen to me,” Hayden snaps. I turn to see her jump on Liam’s back, smacking his head. “I’m going to drown you.”

“It’s not my fault,” he cries. “Stop going for the nipples!”

“I told you Dolly Parton sang ‘I will always love you’ first,” she yells.

Clay, without blinking, wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her back. Liam straightens his shirt, wisely stepping back. “I thought it was Whitney,” he growls.

“You added in brackets, ‘and Billy the goat’,” she snaps, going for him again, but Clay tugs her back.

Liam throws his hands up. “I didn’t know the goat’s name.”

“It’s a bloody gif. The goat wasn’t even involved in the song. It was something someone put together as a joke,” she cries.

Liam stops moving back, his eyebrows pinching together. “He wasn’t? Are you sure?”

“Oh, I am going to hit you so hard, Google won’t be able to find you.”

“Jesus, you blame me for everything. I’m always the scapegoat—”

“Liam, I wouldn’t have done that,” Clay warns.

Hayden’s eyes narrow on her brother. “Run!”

His eyes widen for a second as Clay lets her go. When he runs, she chases him, and it won’t be long before she catches up. Clay turns to us. “He asked for whatever she does to him.”

Freya’s eyes widen as Max fights for the papers on the stage. “Your family is…”

“We’re going,” I tell her.

“But…” she starts, glancing back to the stage.

She wants to see what happens. Everyone does. Until they realise they’ll need to spend thousands on therapy.

“We’re going,” I rasp, and bring her flush against me, pressing my cock against her stomach.

Her pupils darken. “Yeah. Let’s go,” she replies, before grabbing her bag. “Thanks for tonight, everyone.”

“You’re going?” Faith asks.

“Yep,” I answer, and don’t wait for them to argue as I take Freya’s hand.

I need to be inside her.

Preferably without an audience.