Wyatt-1(Lane Brothers, Book 1)(187)

Let’s just say I’m super grateful I don’t actually need my paycheck, because it’s gone.

“Where? How?” he breathes, running reverent fingers over the thin card.

“Your mom told me. I found this collector, and, well, let’s just say I made him an offer his wife couldn’t refuse. Your mom went and got it for me, seeing as Mr Suspicious wouldn’t let me out of his sight,” I mutter pointedly.

He blushes and pulls me close, burying his face in my chest.

“I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

“Nope. Now come on, birthday boy, your guests await.”

It’s hard to say, and even harder to pull back when his tongue peeks out and licks at the valley between my breasts.

“Make them go away. I want to stay here, with you.”

I laugh all the way downstairs, and as he blows out his candles.





Chapter Thirty Five




They say bad luck comes in threes, so I figure I deserve a good threesome in the “good things come to those who wait” department. But thinking is not reality, and I realize that when my now slightly tipsy husband presses a plate of birthday cake into my hand and informs me that his parents will be spending the night.

Yay.

The party finally winds down by one in the morning, and I close the door with a groan and kick my shoes off in two different directions. God, what I wouldn’t give for a foot transplant right now.

“A true lady would disrobe in the privacy of her own bedroom, Hannah. But then, I don’t suppose you know any better,” I hear, and I come away from the door with a grunt of annoyance.

Just what I need, another lecture from the world’s biggest lemon.

“That’s enough, Mother.”

My lips curl upward at the sound of Greg’s voice, and I make my way to him with a moan.

“Come on, hot stuff, let’s go to bed.”

I’m not looking for an argument with his saintly mother, and I’ve had such a good night I just want to fall asleep still feeling happy.

“No, we’re not going anywhere till Mother apologizes to you.”

Okay, maybe I can consider this a good thing. And expect one more happy moment. Threes, right?

“Never mind, Greg. Let’s just—”

“No,” he says harshly, shutting me up. “She just insulted you for no good reason, and I can’t accept that.”

My arms are pulled down from around his neck, and he turns me, pulling my back to his front, and forces me to face Patricia. Her mouth is even tighter than usual, if that’s possible, and I can see her light brown eyes glazing with what can only be shocked anger.

I’m shocked too, and a mite hesitant, and while he’s slightly buzzed and loose of limb, I can feel the tension and his own anger radiating out of him.

“Mom.”

His voice is a low bark of command that makes me cringe.

“This really isn’t necessary,” I mumble, wanting it all to end so I can go back to my own happy buzz.

“It is,” he insists, and I see her nostrils flare minutely before she pins me with a scorn-filled gaze.

“I apologize, Hannah.”

I can hear and see how grudgingly she offers it and fight a giggle, not wanting to piss anyone off more than is necessary.

“Han is my wife, Mom, and she will be the mother of your grandchildren. If you can’t keep a civil tongue in your head, please don’t bother coming to our home.”

I literally hear car brakes screeching in my head for a second as a what-the-F moment hits me like a ton of bricks. I do not like Patricia Lucas, and odds are I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to avoid her and anything to do with her — Greg not included — but she’s his mom, and I understand the power of family.

When you’ve lost both parents and three of four grandparents, and your only sibling is an A-hole, you develop an appreciation for family. I can’t — no, I won’t allow him to alienate his family because of one silly comment I haven’t taken to heart.

“No,” I say, turning to face him and then Patricia. “That is not an acceptable option. Your family will always be welcome here, and that’s non-negotiable. Patricia, stop being so stuck up and nasty to me and we won’t have any problems. If you don’t like me, that’s fine, just keep it to yourself and we’ll get along great. Greg, you owe your mom an apology for being so disrespectful.”

“Darlin’—”

“No!” I yell, rounding on them both.

I can see where Greg gets his stubbornness from, and it pulls at my lips when I see her eyes narrow in just the way I see on a daily basis from my husband. They’re both so…impossible, and yet it tickles me pink to see Greg come up against a brick wall I know he can’t topple without me.