Ours to Love

Page 52

Finally, Xander’s shoulders dipped as he let out a frustrated sigh. Then Javier nodded. “Whatever you need, little one, you just tell us. Whatever it is, however you need it, no matter what you think we might say, please communicate.”
London nodded.
“Promise us,” Xander prompted. “Day or night, rain or shine . . .”
They cared for her. It seemed so obvious. She suddenly understood what having the warm fuzzies felt like. “I promise.”
She stepped between them and pressed a soft kiss to Xander’s lips. He grabbed her and tried to keep her tight against him. His revving heart and the taut desperation of his hold nearly had her melting and whispering reassurances in his ear.
London sent him a pleading expression. “A little time. I won’t take too much.”
Reluctance ripped across his face. He wanted to argue, but shook his head. With one last brush of his lips on hers, he gritted his teeth and stepped back. And she turned to Javier, his blue eyes drilled a million questions into her.
“I don’t blame you for being angry with me about Brenner and Valjean and—”
“I’m not.” She frowned as if the notion was absurd. Because it was. “You had no idea Brenner was that vindictive. Sad to be that petty and cruel, but . . . It’s behind us.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “It’s over.”
Javier grabbed her hair in his fists and pulled enough to snap her head back, pulling her mouth under his. He devoured her for a long moment, taking sweeping possession of her entire mouth—and with it, her body—before he grudgingly let go. “Don’t forget us.”
She looked into his eyes and grabbed Xander’s hand, making them a promise. “Never.”
***
AS the late morning sun slid in, Javier paced the living room, looking at his watch for about the millionth time. A fucking Sunday morning, so he couldn’t bury himself in work very successfully. Xander, leaning indolently on the nearby couch, didn’t look inclined to try at all. Javier glanced at the bottle of Cîroc on the nearby wet bar. The smooth, clear alcohol no longer held the lure of escape it once had. He didn’t have to work so hard to drown out the voices of his guilty conscience. London had shown him a new path, a real love. And without her now, he was crawling out of his skin. How could Xander look so fucking calm?
“You’re wearing a path in the carpet,” his brother drawled.
“Your ass is making a dent in the couch. Are you not worried?”
A little hesitation, then he shook his head. “London may or may not be ready to commit, but she’s not done. She won’t give up on us without talking to us first. You did your part, right?”
Javier patted his pocket, both worried and comforted by its contents. “You know I did. I’m ready if she walks in the door now. You have your stuff?”
He patted his pocket. “Got it.” Then a Cheshire cat grin spread across his face. “And I got the call this morning. All’s clear.” Then his smile faded. “Last chance to back out.”
“Fuck no!” Was Xander crazy? He’d given up on a lot of things in life: a normal adolescence, his late wife, very nearly the company that had been his birthright. But he’d never give up on Xander again. Or on London. “What about you?”
“Not happening, big brother.”
He swallowed. “That’s what I want to hear. Now if we just knew when she might want to see us and talk—”
The doorbell chimed, clanging off the arched ceiling of the living room. He ran for the door just as Xander darted off the couch and nearly hurdled the end table to reach the portal. Together, they wrenched the door open. And there London stood.
She was a goddamn vision, her long hair drifting around her in pale curls, swaying on the light morning breeze. Her eyes, trimmed in a thick fringe of dark lashes, fluttered to her cheeks uncertainly before she met their gaze again. Her mouth was drawn into a pensive frown. She wore a sweet white sundress with matching wedges. A twinkling silver bracelet and lip gloss gave her the only hint of sparkle.
“Is this a bad time?”
Her soft voice made Javier instantly hard. He couldn’t push the memories of her breathy pants and feminine cries out of his head. The way her skin turned pink and she unconsciously spread her legs wider as she approached orgasm. Afterward, the way she held him so tight . . . he felt like he’d always have a heart to belong to. Now, he just prayed that feeling wasn’t wrong.
“Of course not.” But he didn’t move, couldn’t. He just stared at her, trying to wrap his head around everything he had to say to convince her to stay.
“Are you going to keep her on the porch while you stand like a statue and gawk at her?” Xander grumbled in his ear, prying the door wide open to London. He took her by the hand and let her in. Javier could tell that Xander wanted to draw her into his arms, but he knew that they had to hear what she needed to say first. And they had a few things to say themselves.
“Come in, belleza. Talk to us.”
Javier shut the front door and locked it, then turned his undivided attention to the two people who’d so quickly become his world, following them to the living room.
“Will you sit and just let me talk for a minute?”
The question fell softly from her sweet pink lips, and Javier sensed that she had drawn together every bit of her courage to come here and say whatever was on her mind. Was it what they wanted to hear? Had he misunderstood yesterday? Had her farewell at the hospital been a prelude to good-bye?
“Of course,” Javier assured, sitting on the edge of the sofa.
Xander sank down beside him with a frown. “Tell us what’s on your mind.”
Still standing, she drew in a trembling breath. “I wanted to apologize for Friday night at Dominion.”
“It’s all right. We asked for too much too fast, little one.” Javier fought the urge to take her in his arms and assure her that he understood, even if her lack of trust chafed.
London started to nod, then shook her head. “You asked me for a lot, true. But I panicked and ran like a little girl when I should have trusted you and explained my fears.”
“You behaved like a woman who’s learning her way through relationships. We all make mistakes. I’ve made more than my fair share. Xander has made even more—” His brother elbowed him. “But if you’re ready to talk now, we’re eager to listen.”
“Thank you.” She wrung her hands together.
Javier wanted to leap up from the sofa and hug her tightly, but she had an invisible wall between them. She wanted to get whatever was in her head out in the open before she let either of them touch her.
So he simply nodded her way. “Before you say anything, I want you to know we’re not angry that you left. Yes, we should have discussed your fears, but everything is all right.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely everything, little one. Even S.I. Industries.”
Xander jumped in. “Yep. We received a call this morning from the Department of Justice. Federal prosecutors are going after Brenner and the executive scum from United Velocity who bought his information, knowing that it came from our R & D department. It’s all in black-and-white on the computers law enforcement nabbed in the raid on Brenner’s house. We’ve been assured that more military contracts are coming our way. And the cherry on top? One of their most important researchers was so appalled to find out what his employer had done that he reached out to us. He’s left United Velocity, saying that he’ll fully cooperate with prosecutors. He’s offered to come work for us.”
“Which is great because he’s every bit as smart as Brenner and seems to have a lot more scruples. With Xander on board and me back to one hundred percent, this company will turn around so quickly.” Javier sat back on the sofa like a man content because he was. Well, almost. Just one more possible—albeit beautiful—obstacle. Javier gave London a reassuring gaze. “And then there’s you. As sorry as I am for the danger I unwittingly put you in, I’m glad that sordid business of revenge and espionage is behind us. You will never be in danger again, I promise.”
“We’ll make sure of it,” Xander assured.
“Sounds like everything is working out for you two.” London sent them a wan smile.
“For us,” his younger brother insisted. “We want to talk to you, belleza. None of this works without you.”
“We don’t work without you.” Javier had no trouble being emphatic; he spoke the truth. “The three of us have a . . . symbiotic relationship. Neither Xander nor I were doing well without you, little one. I was well on my way to drinking myself to death and—”
“Were you pining for Francesca?” London frowned.
She ought to know better, and Javier had to look London in the eye. He couldn’t be less than honest. “No. I felt guilty. All the ‘ifs’ assailed me constantly. If I’d been more interested in her, if I’d been more attentive, if I could have scraped together enough feeling to truly care, if I’d divorced her when I should have, would she be alive today? Maybe. Probably. I will never know the answer for sure. But I know you’ve helped to heal me, taken away my shame, and replaced it with something so pure and wonderful.” He smiled wryly, then looked at Xander. “And we all know that, before we met you, he was drowning in boobs and pus—”
“I wasn’t making the best use of my time.” Xander sent Javier a pointed look.
“An understatement,” he grumbled.
“Shut it, big brother.” Xander leaned forward and reached for London’s hand. “What Javier is trying to say by throwing me under the bus is that we all work better together. And we don’t want to lose you.”
“Work better? Of course.” She drew in a shaky breath and pulled her fingers from Xander’s. “I won’t quit until after we unveil Project Recovery. We’ve got more than three weeks—”
“Fuck Project Recovery right now.” Javier stood and glared. “United Velocity won’t be launching one, so we have time to bring our new research on board and do it right, before we unveil the project. The pressure is off for the moment, little one. Work is the furthest thing from my mind right now.”
“It is?” Hope entered those blue eyes again, and he hadn’t realized that she still sincerely doubted their feelings until that moment. “You said work, so I—”
“Because he can be a fucktard,” Xander groused and stood on her other side, caressing her arm—and looking like he wanted to touch a whole lot more. “He means us.” He grinned. “And work is the furthest thing from my mind, too.”
Clearly, Xander was hoping there would be a sex portion to the day and that they could skip to it now, but first things first.
Javier sent his brother a heavy stare. “London has come to say something. Let’s let her speak.”
Xander surprisingly didn’t balk. He sat back and studied London. “Go ahead, belleza.”
She paced a little, her pale curls swaying across her back. As she spun, he saw the determination on her face. “When I came out of my coma just before the rest of my high school class was graduating, I was told I’d never walk again. I’d been a cheerleader, an athlete, a dancer. I couldn’t imagine . . . I refused to believe it. I think the doctors humored me by letting me do physical therapy. It took a few years, but I slowly resumed some motion and feeling in my legs, regained some muscle tone. But it was really slow. I was depressed a lot. I ‘medicated’ some of it with food. I gained a lot of weight. Then I didn’t know what to do. I thought my life was over at twenty-one.”
Javier’s heart hurt for her. “You’re beautiful as you are, little one. Don’t believe any different.”
“I love your curves,” Xander seconded.
“Thank you. I’ve lost some of the weight. I’d like to lose a bit more to be happy.”
“We want you happy,” Javier assured with a smile.
London sent him an absent smile in return. “About a year ago, I got a new physical therapist. He helped with muscle strength and fine motor skills in particular. Brian was smart, patient, funny, gorgeous. He didn’t feel like just a therapist, but a friend. He asked me out. I’d just turned twenty-four and was going out on my first date. It sounds crazy, but I’d devoted so many years to just trying to be ‘normal’ again. Our first date went really well. He kissed me, told me he liked me and wanted to see me again. I was like a teenage girl, so giddy.”
Javier didn’t know exactly where this story was going, but he knew it couldn’t end happily or ol’ Brian would still be in the picture. “Naturally. Despite your age, you’d never had the normal teenage experiences.”
She nodded. “Everything was great until, after a swimming session, I went to change back into my clothes. I got into my bra and panties, then realized that, since I’d used my T-shirt as a cover-up, I’d left it by the pool. I ran out there to get it, certain he’d gone.”