Sixty Nine (Payne Brothers Romance Book 4) Page 4

  V grunted, whispering prayers I couldn’t answer and words I’d never repeat. I cried out his name, trembling on his cock as I welcomed the darkness that was my own desire.

  His hands gripped my thighs, almost painfully, pinning me against him. His cock jetted into my core. Every burst of desire coated my softness in a blissful regret that saturated me with a scalding wave of desire.

  His voice grew hoarse. He collapsed, careful not to crush me beneath his sweaty, heated muscles. Still he tensed, strained, and thrust his hips deeper. More of his seed buried in me. His relief growled like pain.

  I welcomed it, gasping for breath. He pulled away only once every drop had been stolen from his cock and left in my body.

  I’d never felt so full. So delighted.

  So blessed?

  I expected V to bolt.

  Instead, he seized me once more, pushing me harder against the bed.

  And they said miracles only happened once.

  He pulled my legs apart and thrust within me once again. A kiss stole the questions that might have tumbled from my trembling lips.

  And with it, he silenced my confession.

  The truth.

  He’d been right.

  Everything had changed. We surrendered to our infatuation and ruined ourselves with everything we’d ever wanted.

  So much for our promises. Nothing personal. No details. Only casual, superficial, meaningless teases.

  What the hell was I supposed to do?

  It was no wonder they called it the love of a lifetime.

  Any life without him would be no life at all.

  2

  Varius

  One month later

  The only thing worse than a bucket of cold water thrown over my face was the disappointment in waking that morning.

  My sister generally didn’t resolve conflicts with a bowl of water. It was even stranger that she had a good enough game to hit me square in the forehead with the plastic bowl.

  Unfortunate. I’d prided myself in being the one member of the household without a bruise, bloody nose, or black eye. At least one Payne man needed to be respectable in Butterpond.

  Not sure why I’d always had that honor. Why people still thought I deserved that honor.

  I rubbed the water from my eyes and sat up. Cassi snapped her fingers, and, with a sigh, I handed the bowl back to her, knowing damned well she was going to throw it at my head again.

  I dodged it in time, and it smacked the basement’s cement wall with a thud.

  “I’m awake,” I said. “Promise.”

  Cassi huffed. “Since when have your promises been any good?”

  The truth hurt more than the plastic bowl. “You know I wouldn’t lie to you, Sassy.”

  My little sister fought hard to stay angry, failed, and instead busied herself by tangling her dark fingers into her ebony ponytail. Her heel tapped the basement floor.

  “You need to answer your phone. The church has been calling all morning…and now all afternoon.”

  “Believe me. I can ignore a calling to the church.”

  “You don’t have to remind me.” With a sigh, she kicked my jeans towards the bed and turned so I could dress. “But you need to talk to them.”

  Cassi might have been adopted, but she could hold her own in the family. Hell, she was all we had to hold us together. Maybe she didn’t inherit Dad’s temper, but she had a long time to study it before he died. Fortunately, she’d also learned compassion from Mom.

  Unfortunately, that meant she wielded it against me, especially when it was unwanted.

  “V, they’ve been calling since seven o’clock in the morning.”

  “Early risers.”

  “Well, the babies aren’t, especially Max. Jules is about to evict you. Says he’s got a bale of hay waiting for you in the new barn.”

  “Fine by me.”

  She groaned. “What do you mean fine?”

  “Are you too good for a manger?”

  “Don’t start.”

  Her eyebrow arched, all attitude. Sassy lived up to her nickname. Far more manageable when she was little and could be bribed with chocolate, but, at some point, she grew up.

  I’d missed a lot in the past two years, but worst of all was missing how my baby sister became such a lovely young woman. Kind. Compassionate.

  Irritable.

  “If you want to preach, then you better answer the church when they call,” she said. “They need help.”

  Didn’t we all? “I can’t help them anymore.”

  “Because you refuse to help them.”

  I swung from the bed and slid into the jeans. Didn’t bother with the shirt. Wouldn’t need it. I planned to go right back to sleep. “I’m not fighting with you this early in the morning.”

  Cassi stormed to the window well, a partially buried window covered by dusty curtains. She ripped the material aside and flooded the basement with unwanted sun.

  “Let there be light,” she said. “It’s one o’clock in the afternoon, V. You need to get moving.”

  “And go where?”

  “The church.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “The congregation is tearing itself apart over this pageant. Pastor Miley is popping Xanax at the pulpit. I honestly don’t know how the church is still standing.”

  The last time I’d been in the chapel…it wasn’t.

  The walls had collapsed. The glass broken. The storm had shattered the church and its people, and, for all I knew, I’d been left in the rubble. Sure felt like the weight of every stone pressed on my chest.

  But Cassi never gave up on me, the deluded little angel. “V, they need you.”

  “That’s hard to believe.”

  “Well, take it on faith.” Cassi pointed at me. Unfortunately, she used her middle finger. “Get a shirt on. We’re going to the church. Now. Together.”

  Hadn’t I been punished enough? “I don’t need a chaperone.”

  “Could’ve fooled me. After this latest depression? You’re lucky we let you stay alone at all.”

  “I’m fine, Cas.”

  “Humor me.” She shrugged. “Besides, I’m watching Rem’s nieces while he works on the barn, and we’re heading to the church. Mellie is in the pageant with the other preschoolers, and I’m pretending Tabby is old enough to participate too.”

  “Then why do you need me?”

  “Because I don’t know what will happen if you stay in the house and Max cries all day.”

  Even now, my newborn nephew wailed, curling the paint off the walls. I had hoped I’d grow accustomed to the crying. That a few days—weeks—of howling would…desensitize me to the sound.

  It had not.

  And the nightmares only grew worse because of it.

  Cassi was right to get me out of the house.

  “Colic?” I asked.

  “Or demonic possession.”

  I frowned. “He’s not that bad.”

  Cassi didn’t buy it. “You don’t get an opinion until you actually act like his uncle. Why don’t you offer to babysit for a couple hours? Jules and Micah could use some sleep.”

  The icy, clenching panic gut-punched me. The air drove from my lungs, but I didn’t let it show. I’d learned to live with that agony. Too many memories and not enough time.

  Sometimes, men didn’t heal.

  Sometimes, nothing was left to heal.

  The church was bad enough. But a child was worse. Heart-wrenching. Soul-crushing. Christ help me, I couldn’t even hold my own nephew without remembering that day. That storm.

  That hell.

  For the first time in two years, the church was a safer place than my own home.

  I rubbed my face. “Call Miley. Tell him I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

  My sister finally smiled. “Good. But I’m going with you. Something tells me you shouldn’t be alone right now.”

  I reached for a shirt. Wrinkled, but it didn’t smell. Good enough. “It’s hard to be
alone in this house.”

  “You could be living in the parish house.”

  Had to be a minister to live in the church’s house. “And miss all the fun on the farm? Tidus drinking himself stupid. Jules crushing his only viable tomato plant. Marius lodging his prosthetic leg in every hole in the porch? Quint getting mounted by the naked alpaca. Think I’d miss that?”

  “You tell me, V…because none of us are sure these days.”

  “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

  “For how long?”

  “I’m fine, Sassy.”

  She vented her frustration on my scattered laundry, tossing a handful of shirts and jeans into a pile with a huff. “Like hell you are. Take a shower. Get something to eat. Stop wasting away.”

  “I said I’m fine.”

  “It’s bad enough when a preacher lies,” Cassi said. “But don’t look me in the eye when you do it.”

  Poor kid.

  My little sister was the only one in the family who’d grown into a functional adult. But even she didn’t have the power to fix me. To fix this.

  Only one woman might’ve helped me, and that was the reason I’d pushed her away.

  A warm shower once felt good. Used to give me time to think and collect my thoughts. Practice sermons. Meditate. But thoughts were all I had now, and they weren’t ones worth sharing.

  Except for the memories of her. And even that salvation—that mistake—now punished me.

  Christ, I missed her.

  But there was no way in Hell I would have destroyed Glory the same way I’d destroyed myself. A woman like that deserved far greater than me, more than I could offer, more than the lies I’d told her and the secrets I’d kept.

  The shower ran cold this late in the day, the warm water spent from a houseful of family, babies, and one muddy Border Collie. I jumped in and out, dressing quickly and checking my phone.

  One-hundred missed calls?

  Twenty-three voice messages?

  All from the church, but I scrolled through anyway. Not sure what I was expecting. Glory hadn’t texted, and she wouldn’t again. It’d been two weeks since her last text—since she’d sent the ultimatum to answer her or to never contact her again.

  I hadn’t responded. Thought it would be easier that way. It wasn’t. But it wasn’t the first time my prayers had gone unanswered.

  Cassi called for me from upstairs. I braved the light, noise, and piles of diapers to rejoin my family.

  Chaos.

  For years, our home had been silent, the family had scattered once we grew up. Jules to the professional football league. Marius to the Navy SEALs. Quint and Titus to Ironfield and back, finding trouble wherever a cold drink was served. It’d stayed that way, me at the church and Cassie caring for Dad, until the day he died. Until after the funeral when the family was forced together and faced with the prospect of selling the farm or trying our luck at a couple rows of corn and some livestock.

  So Julian had grabbed the seeds and shovel and married the perfect woman of his nightmares. Nine months later, the newest member of the Payne family inconsolably cried at the breakfast table. Jules no longer seemed to hear it, his eyes closing as he nearly nodded off in his chair. I hollered for him before he fell face-first into his mug.

  “Jesus Christ…” Julian squinted at me. “I’m so goddamned tired, I’m hallucinating. Are you actually venturing out of the basement?”

  Fantastic. “Glad to see you too.”

  “Great. Basement must be flooded again.” He flicked the mobile above his son’s rocker. The tinkling rendition of Row Row Row Your Boat enraged the child, and the crying began anew. Jules twitched, but he simply chugged his coffee. “Do me a favor. Give the Red Sea a part so it doesn’t fry the furnace?”

  “Basement’s fine. The church is not. Cassi says they’ve got a crisis.”

  “Then it is a miracle. The prodigal pastor, returning to his flock.”

  “You sure you got any coffee in that bourbon?”

  Jules grinned. Same smirk Dad had before he got sick. “I’m not the one breast-feeding.”

  “Pretty sure whiskey is what got you in trouble though.”

  “No, that was one thoroughly sober mistake.” He reached for his son’s hand and kissed his little fingers. “Turned out good though.”

  I didn’t answer. Was never sure what to say to a parent, especially after what happened.

  Julian passed the mug to me. “You look like you need a drink more than I do.”

  Probably. I shook my head. “I’ll be okay.”

  “Remember where the ceremonial wine is?”

  “Always kept a bottle hidden in the pulpit.”

  He snorted. “And that’s why you were my favorite preacher.”

  Cassi bounded into the room, wrapping her knuckles against the dining-room door frame. “Where’s Marius?”

  Julian managed to quiet the baby, and he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Canvassing with Gretchen.”

  Cassi blinked. “Canvassing? For mayor?”

  “Yep.”

  “You mean, going door-to-door. Talking to people?”

  Julian nodded. “Though I imagine it’s Gretchen doing most of the talking.”

  Cassi grimaced. “I’m not sure that’s much better. Hopefully Ambrose will keep them in line.”

  I doubted Gretchen’s Border Collie would be much help. My one-legged, military vet brother wasn’t the type of man to schmooze the elderly and kiss a baby’s chubby-cheek. Then again, with his own child on the way, maybe life had finally softened him. Still all bets were off the instant he’d catch his prosthetic leg in a sewer grate. Again.

  “The election is coming up,” Julian said. “He’s serious about it. Apparently.”

  “Who in their right mind would give Marius any sort of legislative power?” Cassi voiced what we all wondered.

  “Desperate times.” Jules sipped his coffee before pouring in more whiskey. “When the county went dry, the people went crazy. Never question what a man will do for a woman, a plot of land, or a beer.”

  Cassi scowled. “Speaking of…Where’s Tidus?”

  My brother’s voice turned bitter. “Have you checked the gutter?”

  My heart sunk. “It’s not that bad.”

  Julian met my gaze. “Not compared to you, but it’s still bad.”

  Cassi spun, poking a slim finger into my shoulder. “This is all your fault.”

  I didn’t doubt it, but I still needed specifics. “I haven’t seen Tidus in a couple of days.”

  “And why would you? You’ve locked yourself in the basement again. Meanwhile, Tidus went on a binge. Then a second. Then a third. God only knows where he’s at now.”

  It wasn’t the first time we’d had problems with Tidus. He’d had issues since he was a teenager. It wasn’t new. It was just getting worse.

  “What can I do for a man who’s not looking for help?” I asked.

  “Seeing as you have the direct line?” Cassi pointed to the Heavens. “Maybe you should ask the big guy.”

  I sighed. “He hasn’t answered me for a long time, Sassy. Won’t change anything now.”

  Julian snorted. “Great sermon, preacher. Pass around the collection plate.”

  I ignored him. “You can’t force Tidus to change. He has to want to get sober. He’ll ask for help, but it will take time.”

  My brother nodded. “And when are you gonna ask for help?”

  The statement might have been more profound if he hadn’t yawned midway through the sentence. Still, it stung. Rightfully so. Problem was, Jules had yet to realize he could do nothing for me.

  “I’m beyond help,” I said. “And I’ll be fine without it.”

  I turned from the table, but Cassi followed, her voice hardening. “What did I tell you about lying to me?”

  I prided myself on my honesty. A man didn’t have much beyond his word, save for the occasional nosy little sister and a pack of overwhelmed, half-feral brothers. But no amount of interve
ntion—divine or familial—had ever changed the past. And it sure as hell wouldn’t change my future.

  My phone rang once more. Didn’t need to look at the screen. A church only existed if there was a crisis. Fortunately, that ensured the survival of Butterpond Community Methodist Church. Contrary to popular opinion, the congregation hadn’t fallen into ruins, disaster, or blasphemy when I stepped from the pulpit. Granted, we’d had a few fires, panic attacks, and an overabundance of bribery in the form of casseroles, but the world hadn’t ended without me preaching.

  At least, not for Butterpond.

  Cassi followed me to the door. “Not even going to answer the call?”

  What was there to say? “I’ll talk to them in person.”

  “And then what?” She sighed. “V, there’s been a lot of changes at the church. I’m not sure you would recognize it now. Especially now that everyone in the congregation over age sixty has turned into mega-Grinches for the Christmas pageant.”

  “That’s what always happens,” I said. “It’s the most wonderful, infuriating, expensive time of the year.”

  Cassi didn’t believe me. The benefit of youth. “What about a time of peace? The Savior’s birth?”

  “As long as you get a gift receipt.”

  “Ho ho ho.”

  “’Tis the season.”

  “Well, it’s worse this year.” Cassi gave a sharp whistle. Two bundles of coats, scarves, and giggles waddled in from behind the living room. Her boyfriend’s nieces, affectionately known around the farm as Toddler and Teething, squealed for my sister’s attention. She swung the baby into her arms and offered the three-year-old’s hand to me.

  I froze.

  Mellie was a bright, bubbly, blonde pain in the butt with a smile as big as her lungs. She put her hands on her hips and frowned.

  “You sleep more than my mommy,” she said. “Uncle Rem says that’s weird.”

  Cassi gave an awkward laugh. “Isn’t she precious?”

  It wasn’t every day that my solitude was compared to an opioid addiction, but it was enough of a revelation for one day.

  “I’ll take my own car,” I said.

  Cassi groaned. “Don’t be ridiculous.”