He met my lips eagerly, sliding his fingers into my hair, but we heard Cheyenne’s door open. “Hold that thought.” Brooklyn got to his feet and pointed at me. “You stay put and rest. We’ll get the dogs out. Do you think Chili wants to go?”
I looked over to where she lay, one eye open, belly-up in one of the biggest beds. “Nope. She’s all about self-care. Have fun.”
When I had Eb fitted into his head collar, Brooklyn and Cheyenne leashed him and Twain. As they headed out of the room, Sadie retreated to a mat in the corner. I eyed her, hearing the front door open, then close. “Relax, honey. I’m not moving from this couch. You’re safe.”
And so was I. Even with a nasty argument with Cheyenne’s brother coming up, I felt at ease in a way I hadn’t for a long time. I wasn’t alone. The supportive shoulder Brooklyn had given Cheyenne would be offered to me the moment that sweet man thought I needed it. The comforting awareness settled deep in my belly. I closed my eyes and let the ice pack numb my thigh.
Later that evening, after the chores were done and Cheyenne had gone to her room with Eb and Twain in attendance, I was lying in my bed chasing sleep when the door clicked open, then shut. Brooklyn tiptoed in and came over. “This okay?” he whispered.
I tented up the covers. “Get in. I thought we were being discreet for your sister.”
“We’re being quiet,” he said, slipping in beside me, still in his sleep pants. “Last thing I want is for her to hear us having sex. But she knows we’re together, and I need you tonight.”
I put an arm around him and hugged him close. “Been a heck of a few days, huh?”
“You could say that.” He laughed, a sound that came across more rough than amused. “I hate Harvey. He made my teen years less than fun. He’s not touching Cheyenne.”
I stayed silent, leaving room for him to tell me more, but he shook himself, like setting the topic aside. “You know what would be more fun? Keeping each other quiet while we come.”
“Uh. Yeah. Can do that. Kissing or blow jobs?” My dick, which had been soft, got optimistic at the thought.
“I like a man with plans. Start with one, move on to the other?”
I cupped the back of his head and kissed him. He slid his hand down past my waistband and, heck, yeah, this was a great way to end my day. I had to press my palm over my mouth to stay silent by the time his talented lips and tongue got to work on my cock. Then I returned the favor, and his groan as he knelt over me, spilling into my mouth, was loud enough that Sadie barked from the family room.
“Oops.” Brooklyn stared down at me, his chest flushed and heaving, his eyes bright.
I swallowed and licked my lips as he slid free. “With luck, Cheyenne will never know what woke the dog. Could’ve been a rabbit. Or an anaconda.”
Brooklyn snorted. “You did not just go there.”
“No, you just came here.”
We got the giggles, which I totally blame on stress relief. By the time he was done falling over and smothering his laughter against my neck, and we’d each had a sip of water from my bedside tumbler, sleep came easy. I dropped off between one breath and the next, with Brooklyn safe in my arms.
CHAPTER 18
BROOKLYN
We were in the eye of the hurricane right now, as I sat at the dining room table with my laptop, trying to work. The kerfuffle with our family had died down over the last two days, with no further word from our parents. I’d expected Dad to blow up my phone once the petition for emergency custody was accepted for processing yesterday—Thank God for Wynn—but Dad didn’t call or text. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or worried.
Given Cheyenne had never checked into the hotel either, I knew that meant things would be even nastier when Denver showed up. By now, they’d know she was with me. He’d have to come here, instead of just pulling up to some motel and demanding a chastened Cheyenne slide into the passenger seat of his pickup.
At least the petition being in the pipeline meant one less thing to worry about—my sister had the right to be with me legally, for now.
The court date for the emergency hearing was set for the end of next week. That meant eight days of waiting.
Likely Denver would show up long before then, determined to drag her home, so chaos was certain to ensue.
Hence thinking of this as the moment of calm before the next half of the storm hit. And wasn’t the backside of a hurricane always worse?
I had other things to do, but my fingers clicked on the picture of Harvey that I’d saved to my hard drive. We’d printed out multiple copies, along with a general description of Denver and circulated them to our friends and neighbors. We were into yellow alert now—the “only if he’s crazy” drive time. By tomorrow morning, we’d be full on red “he can make it, no sweat” timing. Someone was coming, and not knowing who and when was making my stomach hurt.
I’d cancelled Poppy and Jett for tomorrow, out of an abundance of caution. But I couldn’t put my life and work on hold forever. If we were still in the clear on Monday, I’d need to allow the dogs back.
Having Arthur’s three here really helped. Helped all of us, maybe Cheyenne most, but even for me, the calm furry energy kept me from being as tied up in knots.
Eb flopped in the family room, gently snoozing.
