Her nose wrinkles, and she glances around the room. My eyes follow her. It’s the first time I’ve noticed my sons and their wives are all here.
Cohen is still wearing scrubs, dark circles rimming his eyes. Andi is in her standard jeans and concert T. Branson’s wearing the suit he had on the night before, which indicates he hasn’t left. Ari’s in yoga pants and an oversized sweater, her hair thrown into a messy bun. If I know Ari, she ran home to get the kids situated, threw on something, and raced back to the hospital to be with her husband. Charlie’s here, dressed much like Ari is, which isn’t surprising since, as different as Knox and Branson think they are, they both chose strong, vibrant women. And then my gaze lands on Knox. He’s wearing a faded ARMY EOD T-shirt, the tattoos on his arms visible under the sleeves.
My mind races. Have I told him how proud I am of him? Does he know that the only reason I didn’t want him to join the Army was because I was terrified for him? Does he know I love him as much as I love Branson? Cohen? Have I done enough since he’s come back to us?
Our eyes meet. He must see the panic in mine. Dropping his arm from Charlie’s waist, he comes to the side of my bed, opposite his mom. He leans down, whispering in my ear for only me to hear.
“I know. Water under the bridge. Let it go.” He lifts, our eyes meeting. He takes my hand and squeezes it. “Welcome back, old man.”
I start to laugh, which turns into a cough.
Knox gestures to the notepad. “So, what’s this about a party?”
I pick it up again, showing it to Amelia.
“Party?” she repeats.
I write more.
“40?”
I nod as enthusiastically as I can. Which is to say not much. I underline both words three times, then gesture back and forth between the two of us.
Finally, Amelia’s eyes light up. “You want to have another fortieth anniversary party?”
“Yes,” I manage to choke out. I go back to my pad and hold it up.
A re-do. I didn’t even get to give my toast before I had to leave.
“Honey,” Amelia begins.
I furiously write on my pad.
Say yes. Please.
Her eyes dart around the room, no doubt checking in with each of our sons. My eyes don’t deviate from her. Finally, when she returns to my gaze, she smiles. “I’ll agree to a party as long you’re fine waiting until you’re given a clean bill of health from the doctor.”
I nod my agreeance.
My wife leans in and presses a kiss to my forehead. “You stubborn fool. I’ve never been able to say no to you.”
Back to my pad.
That’s what I was counting on.
WITH A GRUMBLE, I FLING the tie onto the bed. I don’t care if this is a formal party. Ties make me feel like I’m choking, and if I’m holding one of my toddler twins, I literally will be choking. And if I show up in dark jeans and a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to my elbows to show off my tattoos, no one will be surprised.
My brothers and I are so much alike, but we’re still uniquely individual. Branson’s the suit-and-tie guy, which makes sense for the CFO of Wellington Enterprises. Sure, since he married Ariana, the stick’s come out of his ass and he’s loosened up a bit—just not with the suits.
I’m the one more comfortable in cargo pants and Henleys. It’s probably in part to my nearly twenty-year career in the Army. Charlie likes me this way, so why change it?
Cohen, when not in scrubs or a white lab coat, continues to rock concert T’s and Vans, probably due to his wife’s rising career in music journalism.
We’ve been through so much shit together, and even though our family was divided for years, I love my brothers more than anything.
Warm hands wrap around my waist, and Charlie’s breasts press against my back.
Well, I love my brothers more than almost anything.
“Even though your mom insisted, I’m glad you ditched the tie.” She unbuttons another button, exposing a bit more of my chest. “There. My rugged man.”
She must see me roll my eyes in the mirror, because she takes a step back and swats my ass, and when I turn, her mischievous grin hits me like a shot in my groin.
“But you can always use your tie on me later,” she teases, shooting me saucy wink.
“We’ll make an appearance, drop the kids off at your dad’s, then come home all within in an hour.”
Charlie’s haughty laugh tells me it’s wishful thinking. “Trust me, that sounds like heaven. But your dad’s been looking forward to this for the past couple of months. I thought he was going to go insane waiting for your mom and his doctor to finally give the okay. Not to mention Grandma Kate.”
“Fine,” I growl. “When we get home, you’re mine.”
One corner of her lips turns up in a devilish grin. “Works for me. After all, Evelyn’s been a bit neglected the past few months. I think it might be time to give her some attention.”
My cock hardens at the mention of Evelyn, my ’67 Mustang. That’s an awesome car—and an even better place to fuck my wife.
“Sweetheart, you sayin’ those things, lookin’ like you do in that backless dress… You’re not makin’ it easy on me.”
She twirls around, showing off the way the dress hugs every curve of her incredible, toned body and how it showcases the delicate skin of her back.
“Think that’s the point, Rugged,” she offers, her voice husky.
My woman’s just as turned on as I am.
Every day with Charlie is better than the last. Sometimes I can’t believe it’s been over six years since she came into my life, berating me, cursing me out, and turning me the fuck on while she did it.
Six years since she brought me back to who I am. Made me a better man. Helped me find my place with my family again.
Six years since she took hold of my heart and never gave it back. Same with the rest of me.
I want her now more than I ever have, and my need for her increases tenfold by the day.
“Babe, you need to stop picturing me naked or we’re never getting out of this house.” Charlie grins at me-like that’s supposed to make me stop thinking about fucking her. “You’re still doing it!” she exclaims, placing her hands forcefully on her hips in mock anger.
“You look in the mirror today?”
A gorgeous pink blush heats her cheeks. “Well, yeah.”
“Then you know I can’t not do it.”
“You’re going to have to try.” She checks her watch. “We’ve got about ten minutes to get the kids dressed and in the car. I know you love quickies, baby, but five minutes isn’t enough for what I’m craving tonight. So be patient. Good things come to those who wait, you know.”
“Good things will definitely come tonight, sweetheart.”
“Oh my god. You and your one-track mind.”
She acts miffed, but the truth of it is she’s not surprised. It’s been this way since the first time she let me in. Pretty sure it’s never going to change.
“Are you sure about doing this tonight?” she asks, doing a complete one-eighty on the topic. If she wanted to deflate my erection, it’s an excellent way to do it.
I pause while clasping my watch, turning to her, my eyebrows furrowed. “Are you not?”