Cousins In Love: An Alpha Bad Boy Romance (Book 3) (32 page)

"A tree!" I say almost like a kid.

"The lights are on a timer, so don't worry about unplugging them later."

"You did all of this, Mom?"

"Not really."

"Aunt Juliette too?"

My father grumbles something incoherent under his breath while I continue hobbling around my apartment. Now I'm curious to see what else my family has done while I've been recuperating. I peek inside of my office. It's clean and spotless. Nothing out of place. Except that there's a copy of the blog interview I did before the accident, printed out, and framed. Why is my mother not taking credit? This is totally her handiwork. Only a mother would be proud enough of a blog interview to frame it, I laugh to myself.

"Sloan helped too," my mother says. "She'll be over after work and blow out your hair for you. Make you look pretty."

"All right," I say rolling my eyes.

I hobble on my crutches to the other office. I haven't quite got the feel for these things. They hurt my armpits, and sometimes I just want to chuck them to the side and hop on one leg.
 

Everything looks pristine in here too. I notice an envelope in the middle of the desk with some scribbling on it. Roman's handwriting.

Look inside
is written across it.

Inside is the gold bracelet he gave me. I thought it had been mangled and lost in the car wreck. I even asked one of the nurses about it, and she assured me that there was no gold bracelet on her inventory list when I was admitted. I thought it was some sort of awful karmic sign that I had lost it, but here it is.

I dump the delicate chain onto the surface of the desk and spread it out with my fingers. It's evident that the clasp has been replaced with a more secure lobster claw and a new charm has been added. A different one.

A sunflower.

Almost in tears, I awkwardly unclasp it and latch it around my left wrist, which is infinitely harder to do when you're leaning on a pair of crutches. Then I jingle my wrist back and forth watching my new charm slide around my arm.

I was devastated that day in the hospital when Roman wouldn't turn around and acknowledge me. I didn't think it had anything to do with the restraining order, because if it did, he wouldn't have come to the hospital at all. It felt to me like he was rejecting me. Punishing me. I couldn't get Jade's words out of my head. I'd lost his trust, and I didn't know what I could do to earn it back.
 

I know to him it looks like the minute he set his foot on that plane to Miami, that I made plans with Ethan out of spite. It looks bad, but it wasn't like that at all. I knew Ethan was up to something and once he brought Roman's name into it, I couldn't let it go. I just forgot the fact that drug addicts are big fat liars, and I shouldn't have believed anything that came out of his mouth. I should have told Roman the minute he contacted me, then none of this would have happened.
 

"You all right?" My father startles me.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I lie.

"You have a visitor."

My heart jumps inside of my chest. Is it Roman?

"Here I come," I say hopeful.

When I enter the living room, I see my mother smiling from ear to ear. She's taking Blake's jacket for him while he moves to sit on a stool at my kitchen island. I'm surprised at how good he looks. His hair is a bit longer, and he's definitely thinner, but other than that he looks totally normal until he spreads his mouth open.
 

It's full of titanium.

"Hey, boss lady." He tries articulating his words through a clamped mouth of metal.

Once he notices my unsteadiness on my feet, he stands back up and quickly walks over to me.

"I've got crutches, Blake." I reassure him smiling.

He doesn't respond, probably because it hurts too much to talk, and instead replaces himself as one of my crutches. I wrap my arm around his waist and lean into him as he helps me hobble over to my dining table.

"Blake brought you a present, Bitsy," my mother says as if she's pleased that someone else has a little Christmas spirit around here but her.

I can't possibly accept a Christmas present from this man after everything I've put him through.

"No, Blake."

He ignores me after I'm comfortably seated, and goes to grab two boxes out of a large shopping bag. My mother hands him a pad of paper and a pen. He starts writing furiously.

It's for the sake of School Bucks.
 

Let's open them at the same time.

I already know what it is. I've opened this same gift before from a very different man, which makes this feel even more wrong. A new laptop. Both of our computers were ruined in the car accident. They had both been sitting on the floor of the car in a laptop bag by my feet. When my leg became pinned, they were crushed.

Thankfully I saved all the files to the cloud the night before.

We can continue with the app just like it was eight weeks ago.

I could kiss him. So my update is not as behind as I originally thought. At this rate we'd be able to relaunch the app for the new year. Instead of a kiss, which would be wildly inappropriate, I thought at least a hug was in order.

I clumsily lean over in my chair and give him a hug, which puts a huge smile on his face. A smile that I think is painful for him because he flinches. I place my hand on the side of his face.

"Ooh, that must hurt," I say chuckling. "Stop smiling, you goofball."

It's at that very moment, with my hand on Blake's cheek, that I can hear a key being turned inside the lock of my front door and it swiftly being pushed open.
 

Before I can react, a large ball of fur charges in first and lifts his huge paws onto my knees, then starts licking my face. An even larger man is standing in the doorway giving me a very unforgiving glare.

The one where he either wants to fight me or fuck me.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

ELIZABETH

"Duchess."

I've never been more thrilled to hear that simple, panty-dropping greeting. Low, gritty, and heavy with tension. As soon as I spot him in the doorway my stomach spins, and although I know it's impossible this early in the pregnancy, I feel like the baby is flipping and fluttering around in my stomach. Excited to hear his father's voice.
 

I say
his
because, I've decided that my baby is a boy based on the fact that I admittedly have a glow, and according to old wives' tales, girls steal a mother's looks. Boys don't. So even with a smashed leg, a jiggled head, nausea, sore boobs and jacked up vocal cords, I've never looked more vibrant if I do say so myself.

"Hi." Is all I manage to say. Wishing I had come up with a more eloquent greeting for my baby's daddy.

"You want to take your hand off of your employee's face, Elizabeth?"

It just really hits me that Roman is wearing a severe facial expression. Very serious. He doesn't look exactly happy to see me or happy at all. Not that he ever does, but at least this time I think I understand why. I quickly drop my hand away from Blake's face. The sunflower charm on my bracelet delicately dangling mid air.
 

You can literally hear a pin drop in the room. Blake is obviously quiet because he can't talk that much, but he is watching Roman's every moment with an eagle eye. My mother stops making my salmon salad, and walks over to stand beside my father at the dining table. The two of them standing behind Blake and myself at the table as if we're forming some sort of alliance against Roman.
 

Crap, this looks really bad.

"You used your key," I say through a forced smile in an attempt to diffuse the tension in the room.

"I did."

Mr. Tibbs is still basically lounging with his paws on my lap. I scratch under his chin and ears, which he seems to enjoy tremendously. So much that I think I see his eyes almost roll towards the back of his head in total bliss. This is the friendliest he's ever been with me. I'm always joking with Roman how he is more aloof like a cat instead of outgoing like a dog. He's usually so subdued, but today he seems really happy to see me, and I've got to admit that I feel the same exact way.

"Tibbs missed you." Roman acknowledges proudly. "Hello Mr. Hill, Mrs. Hill," he greets my parents politely as they continue to stare at him, like he's some sort of unusual attraction at a county fair or better yet a motorcycle convention.

Tall, tatted, massive, muscular, scarred and covered in denim and leather. Roman looks like the type who spends his days on the back of a Harley and his nights inside of whatever woman would be willing to spread her legs as long as she does what she's told. But that's not who he is at all. In fact I think for the first time in a long time, I'm starting to understand all that he really is, and what I mean to him.
 

He's a complicated man that loves me.
 

My layered onion.
 

And me? Well, I'm the dumb chick who didn't trust it.

"Hello, Roman," my mother says pleasantly enough.
 

My father doesn't respond at all. I'm thinking Roman's talk with them didn't go as well as he let on that day he visited me in the hospital.

"Blake."

Roman gives Blake a simple but polite greeting, although I know it's strictly for my benefit only. I'm not sure how I feel about that. In fact my feelings are all over the place. On one hand I want to jump up and wrap my one good leg around Roman's waist and lick his face, and on the other hand I want to slap him for being such a brute.

"It probably would have been a good idea to have called first before you came over," my father says.

"Dad-"
 

"Elizabeth doesn't have a new cell phone yet. So I thought I'd just stop by and make sure she settled in. I knew she was being released today."

"Blake's restraining order is still in place," my father stiffly responds.

Roman looks pained. I'm pretty sure he's dying to tell my father to shove the restraining order up his ass, but he's trying very hard to be respectful. Which makes me feel all fuzzy inside. The fact that he's trying when my father is being down right rude is appreciated.

"Elizabeth, you really should get a landline," my mother interjects. "I know your generation does everything on your cell phones, but what if there was an emergency?"

"I planned on replacing my cell this week. No one has a cell and a landline anymore, Mom. That's just a waste of money."

Roman's nostrils flare for a moment as his inky eyes roam my face. I realize that I'm still sitting quite close to Blake, and that my father just made that comment about the restraining order. He can't control this situation, and I think that's driving him crazier than anything.

"Elizabeth, you know I would never hurt you, and if I promise not to touch
him
again, could I talk to you for a moment? Alone," Roman asks carefully.

"That's interesting. When you came by unannounced and unwelcomed to our hotel room, you had a lot to say to us. Now you just want to speak to Elizabeth privately? I think that whatever you have to say should be said in front of all of us. Including her friend who you assaulted."

"Dad! This is my house and–"

"It's fine, Elizabeth," Roman quiets my protest. "I can say this in front of your family, your
employee
, whoever. Just as long as I say it."

"Ok," I say a bit stunned by his words, especially because I know this isn't what he wants to do or how he wants to do it. Roman is a very private person, and we have a lot of things left unsaid between us. I figure the number one issue on the discussion table is our baby.

Roman pulls one of the chairs from under the dining table out and takes a seat facing me. There is a cumbersome leg cast around the entire length of my leg, so I do my best to turn myself around without hurting Mr. Tibbs who is interestingly enough still resting half of his body on my lap.

Roman snaps his fingers once and Mr. Tibbs ears perk up, then he jumps off of me and goes to his usual corner of my living room where he lies down. Then Roman pulls my chair forward, away from Blake, and facing him.

"You should have this leg elevated," he says as he lifts my leg onto one of his massively muscular thighs. I wince a bit from the movement.
 

"Too high?" he asks. His jaw hard with worry.

"No, it's fine."

My stomach lets out an angry growl that fills the entire room. Everyone looks at me, and then my mother who scurries back to the kitchen to grab my lunch.
 

"Let me get your salad finished, sweetie," she says. "You must be starving."

"I went to Miami to meet with Kat," Roman starts. Not exactly what I wanted to hear from him, but I'll bite.

"I know," I say.

"To meet with her about business. Her production company put me and the Kings on retainer for the near foreseeable future."

"
Retainer
for what?" my father snickers. "Lawyers get retainers. Not thugs."