When You Were Mine (Adams Sisters) (5 page)

“Is that a no?” he shouted after her.  His gaze followed the car until it disappeared.  He huffed and turned back toward the club.  “I guess the slump continues.”

#

Lincoln held his breath as he crept down the hall in search of his wife’s childhood bedroom.  He’d lain in bed, staring up at the ceiling for as long as he could, yearning to hold his wife until he thought he would go insane.  He was a grown man with
needs
and he had a gorgeous wife just three doors down who knew how to satisfy those needs.

              At last he arrived at his destination.  Excitement rushed through him, and a smile ballooned across his face as his hand landed on the doorknob.  Lincoln cringed as the hinges creaked in protest.  Once he had sufficient space, he inched into the room and cringed again when he closed the door.

              Success was well within Lincoln’s grasp as he padded over to the whitewashed canopy bed.  He could almost feel a pair of devil horns spike through his head as he slid beneath the sheets next to his wife.  Hard and aching, Lincoln curled into a spoon behind his wife’s firm buttocks.  “Baby?” he whispered against her ear.

              “What are you doing?” Peyton’s silky voice floated back toward him.

              “What does it feel like?”  He planted kisses down the column of her neck.

              “It feels like you’re doing
exactly
what I told you
not
to do.”

              “C’mon.  Don’t you miss me?” He slid his hands beneath her hideous flannel pajama top.  “Don’t you miss this?”

              Peyton chuckled softly.  “That’s not the point.”  She rolled around to face him, but before she could chastise him, he kissed her. 

              “Tell me I can stay,” he commanded lovingly.  “Tell me you want me to make love to you.”

              She moaned as his large hand cupped her firm breast.

              “I’ll take that...as a yes.”  He chuckled and then returned to business.

              Flex vowed to go on a diet. 

              He’d always been a big guy, a muscular guy, but there’d was a time when he could climb the oak tree in his childhood backyard in twenty seconds flat.  Tonight, however, he suffered through three near wipeouts, a potential hernia and a possible slipped disc...and he was only halfway up the damn tree.

              If any of his firefighter buddies saw him now, he would never hear the end of it.  Had an extra twenty pounds reduced him to this? 

              Flex swung out his hand for another branch, and then his foot slipped off the limb below him before he made contact.

              Good ol’ reliable gravity paid a visit and slammed him against the earth.  He opened his mouth to scream...but his body forgot what to do with oxygen¾completely understandable since pain seized every muscle, nerve and sensory gland.

              He blinked and two fat teardrops pooled and slid from the corners of his eyes just as his lungs kicked back into gear and sucked in their first drag of oxygen.

“Ouch,” he whimpered.

              For a while, he remained content to lie flat on his back, staring up into the night’s sky.  Really, what harm would it be to spend the night outside?

              Thunder rumbled and a few drops of rain splattered against Flex’s face.

              “Lord, you have to be kidding me.”

              Thunder rolled and lightning temporarily lit up the sky.

              “Okay, okay.  I’m going.  I’m going.”  Locating a source of reserved energy, Flex sat up and ignored the pain in his lower back.

             
Maybe I should check all the windows again.

              He liked that idea.  What business did a grown man have climbing trees anyway? 

              Flex limped around the house again as rain fell in light, thin sheets.  But by the time he turned away from the last locked window, he was in the midst of a torrent.

             
Just go ring the damn bell.

              Tempted, he turned to go do just that but then stopped. 
I’m not a quitter.

              Flex drew a breath, squared his shoulder and returned to the oak tree.  Determination, more than skill or grace, propelled his six-foot-four frame skyward.

              A second before he reached for the window, a horrible thought occurred to him. 
What if this window is locked, too?

              He grumbled under his breath at that possibility, yet a wave of relief washed over him when the window opened.

             
Yeess!

              There was more straining and grunting involved in actually getting through the window.   Once inside, triumph roared through his veins...but then pain brought him back down to earth again.

              Flex glanced longingly at the comfort his old bed offered.  Lord, how much he wanted to dive in and sleep for a full week, however, he still had to sneak downstairs and lug up his suitcases.

              Frustrated, annoyed, and flat out grumpy, Flex crept out of his bedroom door and tried his best to tiptoe through the house’s still darkness.

              Peyton jerked away from her husband’s passionate kiss.  “What was that?”

              “What was what?” Lincoln asked dumbfounded, and then dismissed the question and tried to recapture his wife’s lips.

              She turned her face away.  “Didn’t you hear something?”

              “Just music, bells and all that romantic crap.  Now, where were we?”  He hiked her left leg higher on his hip.

              “What if it’s Daddy?”

              “I thought I was your daddy right now,” Lincoln chuckled.

              She smacked his hard chest.  “I’m being serious.”

              Exasperated, Lincoln sighed.  “Do you want me to go check it out?”

              “Do you mind?”

              “Actually--”

              Peyton rewarded him with another smack.  “I told you this was a bad idea.  Go back and sleep in the other room.”

              “Whoa.  Whoa. I was just kidding.  Of course I’ll go check it out.  If it’s all clear, we’ll pick up where we left off.  Agreed?”

              “Just go check it out,” she hissed and pushed at him to hurry.

              Flex retrieved his suitcases and closed the front door.  Gone was the excitement of surprising his family.  Judging by the pain in his back, he needed to be more concerned with whether he needed a trip to the hospital’s emergency room.

              He stopped at the base of the stairs and set his luggage down.  A couple of Tylenol should do the trick, he concluded, thinking about the economy-sized bottle his father usually kept in the kitchen.

              Feeling around the dark living room, Flex bumped into furniture his sisters had the habit of rearranging whenever their moods struck them.  He’d almost made it through the challenging labyrinth when his arm bumped something and he jerked around to catch it.  Instead, he kicked another mysterious object, which tipped over and landed solidly on his big toe.

              “Goddamn it!”

              Lincoln froze on the center of the staircase with his ears perked. 
Someone is in here.

              Adrenaline pumped hard and steady through his veins as his brain quickly tried to apply reason.  In fact, it was probably just his father-in-law on the prowl for a late-night snack.

              Not probably--most likely.

              “Marlin?”  Lincoln descended cautiously down the stairs.  However, the last stair was booby-trapped with bags of some kind, and Lincoln quickly found himself flat on his back and with stars dancing before his eyes.

              “Who’s there?”

              Lincoln frowned at the familiar voice and winced through the pain as he struggled to sit up.  “Francis?”

Chapter 6

              Again cocooned in The Blue Diamond, Ryan proceeded back to VIP.  The loud music barely penetrated his troubled thoughts, while his body mourned the loss of a woman he didn’t know and most likely would never see again.

              “Ryan, my man.  Where have you been?”  Freddie pounded his heavy hand against Ryan’s back.  “I’ve been looking all over the place for you.  Zach is waiting, man.”

              “Damn,” Ryan muttered under his breath.  “I’d forgotten about Zach.  Where is he?”

              “Sitting in VIP.”  Freddie hooked his arm around Ryan’s neck.  “Don’t worry.  I draped a few girls on his arms and kept him liquored up.”  Freddie winked. “I doubt he noticed you were MIA.”

              “Thanks, Freddie.  I owe you one.”

              “Really?  ’Cuz I got this cousin who’s been trying to break into the business...”

His attention shifted from his friend’s rambling and focused on the man he spotted out of the corner of his eyes. 

Larry.

The man was still entangled with Carlina Leoni, aka his career iceberg, and appeared to be undaunted by what had transpired between him and Joey. 

              “Excuse me, Freddie.”  Ryan maneuvered through the crowd with his eyes locked onto his target. 

              “Hey, Ryan.  Where you going?” Freddie called out.

              Ryan stopped behind Larry and tapped him on the shoulder.  When the tall stranger turned, Ryan’s gaze and then his fist zoomed across the man’s perfect square chin.

              Larry crashed against the floor and then looked up stunned.  “What the hell did you do that for?”

              “That’s for Joey.”  Ryan shook his hand to relieve the pain.  

              Carlina gasped, although belatedly, and then dropped down beside her fiancé.  “Baby, are you all right?”

              Ryan turned and ignored the wide eyes of spectators.

              “Whoa.  Whoa.  Whoa.” Freddie slid to a stop next to Ryan.  “What’s going on here?”

              “That jerk just punched me,” Larry barked, glaring up at the men.  “I want him thrown out of here.”

              Ryan’s eyes flew to Freddie.  For the first time, he took in the men’s resemblance.  “Is
this
your brother?”

              “Unfortunately.” 

              Larry struggled back to his feet and made a great show of dusting himself off.  “If you’re not going to handle this, then maybe Mr. Big-Time Director would like to take this outside and finish what he started.”

              Remarkably, Carlina just smiled.

              Ryan stepped forward, welcoming the challenge.

              “Oh, pipe down.”  Freddie grasped Ryan by the elbow.  “I’ll handle this.”  He tugged at his friend.

              Ryan refused to budge.

              “Let it go,” Freddie said coolly, and this time managed to lead Ryan away.

              “You throwing me out?” Ryan inquired.

              “Hell, no.”  Freddie chuckled.  “I’m buying you a drink.”

              Flex clicked on a light and frowned down at his brother-in-law.  “Linc, what in the hell are you doing here?”

              Grunting, Lincoln sat up.  “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”  He held up a hand.  “Can I get a little help here?”

              Despite his pain, Flex grabbed hold of Lincoln’s hand and assisted. 

              “I came down here because Peyton thought she heard something and insisted I check it out.  Since it’s just you, I’m going back to bed.”  He reached over and patted Flex on the back.  “Good night.”

              Flex restrained Lincoln by the shoulder.  “Don’t tell P.J. I’m here.  I want to surprise everyone in the morning.”

              “Not clogging around here like some giant oaf you’re not.”  Lincoln chuckled.  “You’re about as quiet as a space shuttle launch.”

              “Very funny.”  Flex snatched up his bags.  You and P.J. aren’t exactly quiet church mice.”  He rolled his eyes and hitched his voice to mimic Peyton’s lusty moans.  “Oh, big daddy.  Oh, big daddy.”

              Lincoln chuckled.

              A soft gasp drew the men’s attention.  Both looked up to the top of the staircase to see a stunned, and clearly embarrassed, Peyton wrapped in her robe.  Without saying a word, she turned on her heels and marched down the hall.

              “Nice going,” Lincoln mumbled under his breath, and then raced up the stairs.  “Baby?”

             
So much for my surprise.
Flex’s shoulders slumped before he proceeded up the stairs.

              “C’mon, baby.  Open the door,” Lincoln begged.

              “Good luck,” Flex whispered as he passed by in the hall, but he was unable to prevent the smile on his face from reflecting in his voice.

              Lincoln ignored him.  “I’m sorry, honey.  I know it wasn’t funny.”

              Flex reentered his old bedroom and placed his luggage at the foot of the bed.  Once he withdrew a pair of pajamas pants, he made a beeline to his adjoining bathroom and turned on the shower.

              The hot, soothing spray of the water immediately performed wonders in erasing the aches and pains from his sore limbs.  As he lathered up, his mind drifted to how happy he was to be home--crazy sisters and all.

              He sobered for a moment and wondered if his fall knocked a screw loose.  Undoubtedly the next ten days would be filled with inquiries about his love life--detailed inquiries.  However, he had nothing to report.

              Nada.  Zilch.  Nothing.

              Flex sighed and dipped his head low beneath the spray.  If his sisters thought it was hard for them to meet a good man, they should check out how difficult it was for a
man
to meet a good man.

              Shaking his head, he shut off the water.  If he told his sisters he wasn’t dating anyone, he would give them less than thirty seconds to start suggesting friends or a friend of a friend as possible partner material.