Thick as Thieves (The Greystone Family: Stolen Hearts #3)

Chapter 13

13

Xander

Argentina

I’m sitting in a hotel suite a few weeks later with my guitar in my hands, a notebook and pencil at my side. I feel a bit old school when I drag it out, with James and Bucky taking the piss, simply pulling out their phones.

Between playing a bit of music and writing some lyrics, I’m looking back through random stuff I’ve written throughout the course of the year. A little riff keeps playing in my mind, and I’m working it out on the strings when Evie comes in with the twins in a pushchair. She puts her finger to her lips and pushes them straight into the room next to hers. I carry on playing quietly.

“That sounds good, what’s it from?” she asks as she comes back into the main living area of the suite minus two babies.

“It’s not from anything, it’s new,” I tell her.

She carries on humming it and adding bits in. “I like it. Have you got more?”

I gesture to my guitar and notebook. Smiling at her. She grins as realisation hits.

“Old school writing. Wow, a notebook and a pen. The dark ages. I bet James and Bucky love that.” Her grin widens as I roll my eyes at her. “I’m showering, can you keep an ear out? Betty’s still out shopping.”

I nod and continue to play, but my brain is wholly misfiring as my blood supply has moved south into my now very hard cock. Any brain function has gone AWOL, unless it involves her naked in the shower.

She reappears fifteen minutes later—the longest fifteen minutes of my life. I couldn’t concentrate. I’ve checked on the twins twice. My notebook now resembles a classified document with the majority of the words redacted, as I’ve scrubbed out anything I’ve written. Way too incriminating. And my brain function gets worse when I see she’s wearing a tank top and shorts, her wet hair up in a towel. But I can see it dripping onto her back. The droplets running down her skin. Face devoid of make-up, although she doesn’t tend to wear lots.

“God, I felt grimy. Buenos Aires is beautiful, and the shopping good, but the air pollution… My phone keeps telling me to find a better place, my lungs are in danger.” She laughs, sitting next to me on the sofa.

I can smell her body wash—roses and summer rain. God, she smells like home.

She grabs the towel from her head and starts to vigorously dry her hair again. “What are you getting Kell for his birthday? Are we doing anything this year, dare I ask?” She pushes at me, her smile naughty as she shakes her head.

“Yes we definitely are.” I grin wickedly at her. “And I’m getting him the same thing he gets me.”

“No way, not whatever he asks for. You two are so boring.” She raises her eyebrows at me.

I smirk at her. “Yep, some traditions just work.”

“Party?” she asks with trepidation now in her voice.

“Of course yes, but we can’t decide on a venue. I’ve sorted the party plan, and got the planner. Do you remember Angie?”

She nods. “I liked her, she was nice to me.”

“Well, the rumour is she has a child with Kasey Becker.”

Evie gasps. “No way! Why? How?”

I raise my brows at her. “We told you what he’s like. Well apparently, at the New Year’s Eve party when he nearly drowned, he made enough of a recovery to get Angie pregnant. Her son Cole was born in September. She just came forward and told him. They’re getting sorted now, but she wants custody and money.”

“Oh, God. I’d better phone him and see how he is.” She looks around for her phone, her face a picture of concern for that dickhead Becker. “Who told you about it?” she asks, scrabbling about in her bag.

“John Clayton.” The DJ arrived for the tour spilling gossip left, right and centre. Kasey, it seems, has been thrust into the role of Dad, but according to John has said ‘if Marcus Russell can do it so can he.’ I rolled my eyes at that, he’s such a dick.

“Poor Angie. I bet she was beside herself. I wonder why she waited to come forward? Oh God, Kasey.” She stops herself when she sees my face. She knows we think she’s got it all wrong about Kasey fucking Becker. “Well, you lot can’t manage a condom or a relationship! I’ll phone him later.” She’s flapping her hands at me in exasperation as she sits back down on the settee. “Anyway, what about this party? Where are we having it? Are we back in the UK?” She’s trying to distract me from Kasey bashing.

“We’re on a little break, and we’re thinking about France.” Her face pales, so I quickly rush on. “But Marcus isn’t too bothered so I thought about Scotland. It’s private, and we can manage everyone and everything there.”

Her eyebrows go up. “Oh, boy. That means you need something managed. Is it another sex party, Xan?” She looks at me with worry in her eyes. Blowing out a breath and tilting her face to the ceiling, she looks a bit annoyed.

I smirk at her, shrugging. “Everyone expects it from us. We can't let our loyal following down.” I barely get the words out before I start to giggle at the horrified expression on her face.

“Do I have to go?” Her eyes are getting wider and wider.

“Certainly. Kellen will be beside himself if you’re not there. He wants to make it up to you.”

She’s growing even more uncomfortable all of a sudden, her body stiff and tense. Probably remembering the debacle of the aftermath of the last party she attended.

“You don’t have to worry about it, about him. He’s all in, Kitten. I love how he is now, with you. So happy.” My voice is gentle, but confident. She needs to know how in love he is.

Changing the subject again, she asks, “So what are you getting him? What has he asked for? What does he usually ask for? And what do you usually ask for? Is it the same things each year or different things?”

“Wow. Questions, questions, Kitten.”

I’m stalling, but she sits waiting for an answer, so I shrug. “Samey,” I hedge.

“You’re being very cagey all of a sudden, Xan.” She narrows her eyes at me. “Is it other women?”

Her voice wobbles and I instantly look at her and shake my head vehemently. “No, definitely not. No way. No.”

“Are you going to tell me?”

I shake my head again. Fuck. I want to. I get this urge to tell her, just fucking tell her, but I don’t. I sit, staring at her, with no words.

She shakes her head at me with a small smile. “Have your secrets. I’ll let you for now.”

I smile as she says it, long and slow, deepening her voice as she does. She pushes at me and I grasp her around her neck and pull her to me.

“You smell good enough to eat,” I tell her, breathing in her scent.

“It’s this new body wash. Do you like it? More flowery, found it in Brazil. We’re going to export to the UK. Well, I’m going to try anyway. All organic plants. It’s just, not sure how green it’ll be by the time we get it in the UK. But we can try.” She’s sniffing at her skin.

I kiss her temple, and she rests her head on my shoulder. I move my hands down to touch the skin on her bare shoulders and onto her back, moving my thumbs in circles, feeling her soft skin and spreading her scent further around the room. Fuck. My brain is stuttering. Do not touch, don’t fucking do it.

“Xander,” she starts quietly, tentatively, “the other week when you fell asleep on me, when Kellen came in, and?—”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Betty says primly as she walks into the room, not looking sorry at all.

Evie doesn’t move, nor do I. She can fucking deal, the nosey bitch.

“The boys are asleep. Did you get some nice clothes?” Evie asks, ever polite.

“Yes, I’ll just put them away and wait for the twins to rise.” She looks pointedly at us both. With Evie virtually in my lap in not many clothes, I feel the sneer rather than see it. I look at Evie, who’s regarding her back.

“I’ll never move if she comes in. Don’t ever let me, Xan. I won’t apologise for who we are, how we are as a family.” Determination rings in her voice.

“You don’t have to, Kitten, you should never have to. Fuck her, fuck everyone.”

She laughs. “You two are so funny. Zero fucks, whilst everyone else is crippled by comments, or lack of comments, or even likes.” She smiles up at me. “Don’t change, Xander. And make sure Kell doesn’t either.”

I reply quietly, “I promise,” and look into her eyes. I’m not smiling now, I bend my head down and put my lips gently on hers. She closes her eyes and I ease my lips off hers infinitesimally, letting my tongue move to touch her lips in the gentlest of licks. It may as well have been a thunderbolt to my heart, it has the same effect.

“Oh my God,” I hear Betty yell out behind us.

We move away from each other slowly, and Evie touches my face.

“No changes,” she whispers, and stands up, looking at Betty.

“Ready to get the boys up?” She’s all business, smiling at the intruding woman. “They’re getting into this routine. Shame we’ll be going home in a few days and have to start all over again. The issues of jet-setting babies.” She continues to smile at the woman, who stands there, staring open-mouthed at Evie and then incredulously looking at me.

I grin and sit back on the settee. “Fetch me my boys, woman,” I shout at Evie. Fuck everyone, might as well muddy the waters a bit for the lovely Betty.

True to her word, Evie’s heading back to the UK, and I’m literally crying at the hotel. Marcus is kissing his babies, he can’t put them down, and he keeps asking her not to leave.

“Honestly, you’re both terrible.” She wipes under my eyes, kissing me on the lips and then goes and hugs and kisses Marcus. “You’ll be back in a week or so for Scotland. I’ll see you up there. Tarron asked me to bring the twins, so we’ll all be there for you.”

“I don’t want you to go.” Kell’s whining, his bottom lip practically dragging on the floor. He’s hanging onto Sorley, while I’ve got Lochi. “If we hang onto these two, you can’t go,” he tells her.

James comes in, followed by Bucky. “Told you they’d be crying,” he calls back to Bucky.

“They are not,” says Marcus indignantly. “They’re smiling at us.”

“I wasn’t talking about the twins.” He laughs at his dad, taking the baby from him and smiling and kissing his brother.

“That one belongs to me,” sing-songs Bucky as he takes Lochi from me. My hands feeling entirely too empty, I move over and pull Evie into a hug, kissing her all over her face, then move to Sorley.

James puts him up for a kiss. “Say bye to Papa.” He smirks at me, the little shit.

Marcus has now got Evie in a bear hug, kissing her like his life depends on it.

“Put them in their seats, James,” she just gets out as she comes up for air, adding, “We’ve got to go Kell,” as Marcus starts in on her again.

“I know. I just don’t want you to. I want you here with us all.” He’s hanging on tight.

“It’s not long. I need to see Marshall, and my buildings,” she laughs out as Marcus wraps her up again, his reach everywhere, like an octopus.

“You better not go to work yet. I’ll kill Jude if he’s been on at you again.”

“I don’t work with Jude, remember?”

“No, but you’d think you did with the amount of calling he does.” Marcus is huffy.

Evie eventually gets out of the suite and leaves to calls of, “Run for it, Mum”—James and Bucky’s voices pitched high to imitate the babies—and “Don’t leave us”—absolutely no question coming from me and Marcus.

The whole suite feels cold and empty. We sit and look at each other, desolation setting in.

“Fuck. How can one person make such a difference?” Kell asks.

“Because it’s Mum,” says James, looking at us both. “Come on, you old gits, I’ll buy you a drink in the bar.” He pulls me up as Bucky drags up Marcus, and we all move, not able to sit in the room that still smells like her and the twins.

“I’ll never be able to sleep,” complains Marcus.

“Well at least you can keep Xan company then,” laughs James.