“Well, that’s wonderful.” I can’t seem to sand the sarcastic edge from my voice. “It looks like more than one family reunion will be taking place on Paragon this afternoon.” I shoo Brody toward the door. “Go ahead. I’m sure your parents are just dying to give you a big ole’ hug.” Or a ticket to the Transfer, either or.
Brody doesn’t budge. That smile he’s been wearing quickly fades.
“You mentioned something about my sister being banished.”
The room quiets down to nothing, and for the first time ever there’s an ounce of peace in the Landon house. Who knew it would take the mention of Chloe to achieve it? It looks like she’s good for something after all.
Drake lets out a riotous belch and kills the silence. “Damn near broke my back raking all the crap from the yard. Trailer comes day after next, so we still have a couple days to get a vision of where we want it.”
A tiny part of me is jealous that he and Bree are doing so well with their Made in Paragon clothing line. Well enough to purchase a trailer to plop in the backyard and essentially live rent free for the rest of their days. It’s freaking brilliant.
I twist my lips at him. “Who knew you’d turn out to be the genius of the family?”
“Oh, yeah?” Drake’s eyes bulge as if I’ve just slapped him with the vilest insult. “Well, after you moved in with us back in L.A., I farted into your pillow for a month straight. Who’s the genius now?”
A hard groan pushes through me. Kill me.
“That was a compliment.” I stop from adding you moron. It’s no wonder I swore up and down the place smelled like a toilet.
“You didn’t answer my question.” Brody looks affronted by my refusal to carry out a conversation with him.
“She’s stuck in the Transfer. But don’t worry, there’s another woman running around in her body, so if the mood strikes you can still give her all the spinning hugs you like.” I stretch my arms over my head and give an exaggerated yawn. “I didn’t catch a wink last night. I’m beat. If you don’t mind just let yourself out.” Sooner than later but I don’t bother adding it since he’s proven harder to get rid of than a housefly. Instead, I trot upstairs with Bree hot on my heels. Her I don’t mind. She’s been my best friend ever since I moved to this island my junior year of high school.
“A penny for your thoughts!” she sings as we enter my bedroom, and I seal the door behind us.
“I was just thinking how you’re my best friend in the entire world. And you’re worth way more than a lousy penny.”
My phone vibrates in my jeans, and I pluck it out. “It’s probably Gage.” But it’s not. It’s a text from Laken.
Do you know a man named Eugene?
“Do we know anyone named Eugene? Laken wants to know.” I glance up and find Brielle snuggling with a giant stuffed bear the size of my bed. “What the hell is that?” It’s yellow, and intrusive, and have I mentioned insanely colossal?
“It’s Melissa and Gabriel’s baby.” She rolls her eyes. “That douchebag won it for her at the Halloween festival West threw. Can you believe they’re doing all kinds of cool things at West now that we’re no longer there?”
“Yes,” I say doubtful, still eyeing the overstuffed monstrosity. “But what’s that thing doing on my bed?”
“Oh, she couldn’t fit it into her room, and, of course, it made Mia sick to gawk at their lovechild. You know that poor thing still has the hots for that stupid shit. Anyway, I think Melissa laid claim to your room. She said something about painting the walls red and moving in next week. Teddy, here, is just holding her place.”
“Fat chance. There’s no way I’m letting Melissa or any stuffed bear take this room from me.” My phone vibrates again. “So no on the Eugene?”
“Nope. And would you mind telling her that you’re trying to get some quality time in with your BFF, and she’s seriously interrupting? That girl gets on my every last nerve.” Bree is a bit territorial when it comes to our relationship. Especially since she feels as if Laken is trying to take her place.
I text Laken back and let her know I’ve never heard of him. It takes less than a few seconds for her to reply.
Are you sure? It’s Eugene Booth. He works with Coop’s dad. I thought you mentioned something about a Dr. Booth before. Anyway he’s dating my mom, and I wanted to see if he was a decent guy.
“Scandal,” I say sitting at my desk and holding out my phone for Bree to read the text. “I know for a fact Dr. Booth is very married. He’s mentioned kids and stuff. I can’t believe this.”
“He’s probably divorced.” Bree shrugs it off as if it were an everyday occurrence, but somehow hearing that someone as nice as Dr. Booth has called it quits on his marriage makes me insanely sad.
I text back. I do know him. He’s the nicest guy on the planet. He’s a Levatio. Your mom is very lucky.
“So why are you so exhausted?” Breielle’s face contorts with suspicion. “Are you and Gage too busy rocking the bed to get any sleep? It looks like someone is making up for lost time.”
“No, it’s not that. Actually we tried to rock the bed this morning, but our mothers sort of ambushed us.”
Her mouth widens with horror, as it should.
“It’s a long story. Gage and I are sort of—” I try to figure out a way to say this delicately. I’m not sure Bree is the right person to spill any of Gage’s deep dark secrets to, not yet anyway. Besides, I can’t seem to verbalize them.
“You’ve hit the skids already?” She shakes her head. “It’s just a dry spell. Trust me, I know all about the skids and dry spells.” She hugs the giant bear as if it were a body. “Sometimes, even that special man in your life can get on your bad side. One day it’s going to drive you crazy the way he eats a pickle every night before coming to bed, and you’re going to say I hate you, and I hate your stupid pickle breath!” Her gaze is cast off to some faraway place where Drake stuffs his face with gherkins. I’m afraid to startle her in fear she’ll go on a killing spree, and poor Teddy here will have to pay for all of Drake’s questionably kosher misgivings. “But, not to worry, I’ve got the cure—you and Gage will just have to spice up your sex life.”
Before I can ask just what this spice might be, my phone vibrates again. It’s Laken.
Ok, I feel better. You want to hit coffee? I have the rest of the afternoon off. Coop has practice. He won’t be back until late.
“Let me guess, that’s her again.” Brielle mock vomits onto the floor.
“This will just take a sec.” I text back. Can’t this afternoon. And God knows I’d much rather spend time with Laken than Emma tonight. A thought comes to me. Are you free for dinner?
I’m all yours!
Perfect! I give her the Oliver’s address and hit send. I’m sure Emma and Barron won’t mind. There’s always enough food to feed an army. And, in a strange way, I feel much more settled about tonight. Not only was I worried about fending off Emma’s insults, but Gage has me a bit rattled at the moment, too. My arms blister with heat just thinking about it, and I itch them into oblivion.
“Now where were we?” I smile up at Bree. “The key to saving my marriage is spice?”
“You bet, baby. You just need to let your inhibitions go. You’re all worked up all the time. It’s no wonder you and Gage haven’t already imploded.”
“Oh, we’re about to.” I lean into my desk. One more Count roundtable and I’m going to implode, hell explode, all over his ass.
“You try anything exciting in bed lately?”
An image of Gage’s head buried at the base of my hips comes to mind. That’s exactly where we left off this morning. God, every time he does that now I’m going to be in fear of Emma’s face popping up in the darkened room. Leave it to her to ruin the best sex ever. God forbid I shout her name instead of my husband’s. That might ruin oral sex for the both of us.
“Okay, no need to rack your brain.” Bree sits on the bear. “I can tell you’re both pretty vanilla.”
&n
bsp; “What? That happens to be one of my favorite flavors. But I’m onto you, Johnson. I know that was an insult.”
“Landon, remember?” She wags her wedding ring at me. That’s right, she and Drake eloped right after Gage and I did.
“Pay attention. I’m going to teach you some new techniques.” She slaps poor Teddy in the gut until he’s lying submissively beneath her. Brielle doesn’t hesitate to straddle the furry beast backwards. “This is called the reverse cowgirl. Boots aren’t needed for the occasion, but it’s a good prop your man might enjoy. First, you have to sit like this.” She wags her body from side to side. “Gage will get a rear view, so he should already feel like a lucky bastard.” Brielle slides low onto Teddy’s waist and wiggles her bottom into place before smacking herself on the ass as if to get the party started. “Okay, then you grind over him like this.” Her hips swivel slow and steady like a ball bearing. She throws her head back and breaks out into a series of fake passionate moans. Her eyes close, and now she’s riding that overstuffed bear, fast and hard—and, dear God, I don’t think she’s faking anymore. For a second I contemplate pulling out my phone and taking pictures, but if word gets back to Melissa that Bree defiled her “baby”, I’m sure the inside of that new trailer of theirs will meet its end with a box of matches.
A knock erupts at the door, and Mom enters cradling my sweet baby sister. I take Mystery—Misty, from her and let her soft baby skin conform to me. She smells heavenly, like baby powder and vanilla. I openly glare at Brielle who’s now relegated to lying on her back and panting. She’s practically begging for a cigarette.
“Am I interrupting?” Mom’s eyes round out as if she cared. Interrupting sexual relations is quickly becoming her specialty. Although, in Bree’s case, it was sort of warranted. “I just wanted to let you know, I ended up spending the whole afternoon with Emma.” Her lips crimp as if this weren’t a good thing. “We had lunch and discussed throwing a reception for you and Gage around the time of your birthdays.”
Gage and I are only a day apart with me being older—and obviously wiser considering what I witnessed last night.
“Oh no, please don’t! It’s really not necessary.” Like at all. I’m sure this is something both Emma and I can agree on.
“Well, at first I thought it would be a great surprise, but then the more I thought about it, this is the only time in your life you’ll ever come close to planning a wedding.” Her eyes swell with tears.
Brielle sits up. “Oh, she’ll have at least two other chances when she marries Logan and Dudley.”
“Ignore her.” I’m quick to pull Mom into the hall. “She’s upset—something to do with Drake’s pickle breath. You were saying?” I pat Misty gently on the back and marvel how natural it feels to be doing this. Wedding planning isn’t the only thing I’ll be missing out on. Gage and I won’t be having children either, but I’m not letting my mother in on this conceptual secret. The last thing I want is for her to die on the spot of a broken heart. She’s all about pumping out the little people. “I’m staying married to Gage forever. There will be no other weddings.” I say it so cool I almost believe it. It’s true though. I’ve resolved to try and extend Gage’s days. It’s on my bucket list to keep air in his lungs for at least as long as I have it in mine.
“Well, Emma didn’t exactly meet my enthusiasm.” She averts her gaze a moment as if she were holding back the worst of it. “But she eventually came around. She insists on hosting the event, and, of course, she demanded she cook everyone dinner.” Mom shakes a fist in the air. “Doesn’t she know these kinds of events are held in ballrooms at hotels or at the least an expensive restaurant? It’s like all she wants is some backyard barbeque.” She touches her hand to her mouth. “She offered to make haggis then moped with a sour look on her face the rest of the afternoon. What’s with the moping? Doesn’t she know that this is about you and Gage getting together at last? It’s as if she doesn’t know the significance of what this means.”
I freeze from patting little Misty on the back and stare vacantly at my mother. The significance of what this means? My God, does she know the significance of what this means? Does she know that Gage is a Fem? Descending directly from the Fem—i.e. the ridiculous not-so-secret love of her life? That should our union procure offspring it would give the Fems a leg up in the dominion department?
“What’s haggis?” I try to play it off as if my mother’s words didn’t just send ice flowing through my veins.
“I didn’t know myself, so as soon as I got back on the road, I looked it up on my phone. It’s sheep stomach stuffed with spices.”
God, I don’t know what’s worse, my mother texting and driving or Emma wanting to serve sheep guts at the event that celebrates my union with her son. And what the hell reason does she have for hating me so damn much? It’s not like she was all that discriminating when it came to partners. Look how Gage came to be for Pete’s sake. Had she not been such a bitch to Barron, Gage would be sporting true Oliver DNA. A horrible thought comes to me. Gage Oliver is technically Gage Edinger.
“I wouldn’t worry too much about the party,” I whisper, dejected. “Hotels and restaurants are expensive. I’m sure haggis tastes great, but in the event it doesn’t, maybe you could whip up a lasagna.” I hand Misty back and head into my room again.
Gage Oliver.
Gage Edinger.
Fem DNA.
I can still feel little Misty warming my chest, and I hold back the ugly cry wanting to burst from my eyes. The Fems have already stolen so much from Gage and me. And, after witnessing that bloody meet and greet last night, I’m afraid they’ve officially stolen Gage from me, too.
My arms and legs itch in tandem, and I sigh. I can’t take much more of this.
Gage
The sky lets loose in a deluge of rain, intense and penetrating, loving Paragon just the way I was loving Skyla’s body this morning. It’s ten after six and my mother has made it crystal clear she’s annoyed that Skyla isn’t here yet. I’m not as annoyed as I am worried. The front door swings opens, and I jump to my feet. It’s just Logan and Liam.
I give my leg a quick scratch. Damn itch has been making me nuts ever since I left Host. I must have been bit.
“’Sup.” I slap Logan five as he heads into the house. “Are we good?”
“We’re good.” He pulls me in and whispers, “How are you doing man? Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be? Things are finally ironed out between Skyla and me. There’s not a lot I can do about where I came from. I sort of had no say in the matter if you know what I mean.”
“I hear you.” He pumps out a quick grin. “It’s not like you’d go off behind her back and try to take down Celestra.” His eyes meet with mine, and he holds a mean stare. “Speaking of which, we need to keep that half-brother of yours on a short leash.”
My phone buzzes. “Speak of the devil.” I hold the phone up for Logan to see. I don’t like the idea of keeping things from him, or Skyla for that matter.
“You going to get that?”
“Nope. Tonight’s all about family—the real thing, not the one fate is trying to shove down my throat.” My phone pings alerting me to a new voice mail. There’s no way I’m going to pick that up in front of Logan. I need him to understand that Wes means less than worm shit to me. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested to find out about the induction ceremony tonight. I need to prove to Demetri and Wes that I’m the real deal.
Logan and Liam settle into a conversation with Mom and Dad, so I head out back and stand under the patio as the rain sizzles overhead like a steel drum band. Charlie comes over and threads through my legs while I play back the message, something about meeting me by Omen’s statue in a few minutes.
Omen. I shake my head at the thought. That’s the warped dragon someone saw fit to christen as the school mascot over at Host.
I offer Charlie a quick scratch behind the ears. Best dog I’ve ever had, only dog I’ve ever
had. It’s nice that after all these years some things never change. I hope in twenty years I can say the same about Skyla and me. I hope Demetri doesn’t fuck that up for me, too.
Sorry. I’ve got dinner with the folks. Maybe later? I hit send. As long as I don’t say anything incriminating in my messages, I don’t see the harm in contacting Wes this way.
A light knock emits from the glass slider, and I find Skyla smiling and waving.
“Hey, beautiful.” I head in and scoop her into my arms. “I’ve missed you.” I dot a kiss to her lips and look up to find another blonde standing behind her. “What is this, a line?” I tease looking back to see Laken Stewart with her face washed white as the moon. “Ooh, sorry. I thought you were Brielle.” I motion to my head. “She’s got this blonde thing going on with her hair now.”
“It’s fine.” Laken shrugs as if she were slowly adjusting to the idea of Wesley and me looking like one another’s reflections.
“She’s my guest.” Skyla plucks her in by the elbow.
“That’s great. I’m sure my mom won’t mind.” We head to the kitchen and find everyone seated at the table. Just the fact that my mother didn’t bother to seat us in the dining room shows that tonight is a laid back event. “Is Giselle coming?” Usually my sister and Harrison-the-mooch show up for functions like this. Nobody has the power to neutralize my mother and her burgeoning opinions like my sister.
Both of my legs start itching at the same time, and I try to give myself some relief as discretely as possibly. Once, when we were kids, Logan filled my bed with itching powder. Ironically, this feels ten times worse.
“She has cheer practice.” Mom’s expression sours. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t like the overt sexualization of women at football games. I don’t really think cheerleaders are all that necessary.”