Scorched (The Frenemy Series Book 4) Page 6

  “Where the hell are we supposed to put it, babe?” Dash asks, his voice just as low as he makes his way over to her.

  “I’ll tell you where I’d like you to put it,” she smirks, her annoyance obvious, yet waning as he bends to kiss her messy hair before lifting the closest baby into his arms.

  “Yeah, I bet you will,” he chuckles low, settling Dallas against his chest and running the pad of his thumb over her still frowning lips. “Sorry, pussycat.”

  She latches her teeth onto his thumb, snickering to herself when his features contort into a silent wince and then kisses the afflicted spot immediately.

  “Well, I don’t hear anyone crying, so you live to fight another day,” she allows with another small smile. “Would you help me put them down for a nap?”

  “You think they’ll sleep this time?” he asks, his eyebrows quirked up in amusement which she answers by raising her hand up, fingers crossed. “Alright, we’re going for it then. The nap trifecta,” he laughs, blowing a raspberry into Dallas’ cheek before he grins down at Aspen, who is yawning wildly back at him. “You might’ve done it this time, babe.”

  “Don’t make direct eye contact,” she warns playfully. “You’ll jinx it.”

  “Word,” he says immediately, extending his hand to help her from the floor, each of them careful not to jostle the babies they’re holding.

  Although the moment between them is one that should be kept somewhat private, it’s hard to not intrude upon it slightly. My envious thoughts invade me once more as they walk side by side toward the twins’ room, each of them cooing sweetly as his fingers absentmindedly mingle with hers affectionately.

  My eyes grow surprisingly misty as they round the corner, my ovaries sending a beacon of need to immediately procreate. I sniff back the emotion that comes with my loving jealousy and blow out a low breath, my eyes making their way back toward the living room. Human nature tells me these feelings are normal, that the need to share them with another soul is completely rational as well. Yet, when I look up, I don’t find another worthy soul in sight.

  Instead, I’m met with the eyes of the same pretty jackass I rode up here with and stifle another, this time annoyed, sigh.

  “Is there a problem?” he asks, his eyebrows quirking up slightly in arrogance as he leans against the bar.

  “Nothing a new shirt can’t fix, Lumberdouche,” I snort, gesturing toward him in disinterest as I pull my phone from my purse and begin reading through my email. “By the way, you’ve still got shit in your teeth.”

  chapter nine

  mason

  “So, when’s the new place going to be ready?” I ask, glancing through the opening between the kitchen and the crowded living room to lock eyes with my sister. “Soon, right?”

  “Twenty-three days,” she replies with relief, making me smirk. “And it can’t come soon enough.”

  “Amen,” Dash interjects, beaming at her as she rounds the kitchen and makes her way back to us. “When’d we say we ran out of room in here?”

  “Three kids ago,” she snorts, cradling the now steaming coffee cup into her hands. She nuzzles into his lap across from Alex and beckons her cat, Vinnie, into her lap, much to Dash’s dismay.

  When Evie and Dash left our hometown right after she graduated art school, more than a few things were up in the air, to say the least. Although it took her a few months to find her niche in the art community, once she did, she took the hell off.

  What started with one piece she’d painted during the one and only low point in their otherwise impenetrable relationship had officially blossomed into her taking the local art scene by storm. The emotion and magic she’d caught in that piece was enough to gain her the recognition we all knew she’d eventually find.

  Before too long, even the wall inside the trendiest studio in Austin wasn’t big enough.

  As for Dash, his lifelong love of muscle cars had been paying off in spades, as well. One client taking notice of his talent in restorative work was all it took to have his career taking off like a tweaked Hellcat on steroids. By the time the twins were walking, he had a wait list as long as Evie’s and enough cash saved up to open his own garage downtown.

  Right across the street from her studio.

  I couldn’t be prouder if I birthed these two assholes myself.

  “We need to leave in about a half hour,” Dash announces, his voice low as he presses his lips to her hair. “Is that the last of the coffee?”

  “Yeah,” she answers, offering him a sip from her cup, smirking at the face he makes when the sugar and cream hit his tongue. “Get your own then.”

  “That was mine,” he reminds her playfully, shaking his head when she flips him off and takes a long drink. “Anyway, let me change and we can go.”

  “Okay,” she says as she pulls Vinnie into her arms and stands, letting him up. He starts to make his way toward the hallway when she pulls him back, eyebrow raised. “What are the rules again?”

  “Naked wedding,” he replies, chuckling when her nostrils flare. “Babe, I got it the first fourteen times we went over it.” She sets Vinnie on his feet and starts to argue, but he cuts her off. “Didn’t you already order everything?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then all we’re doing is trying shit on,” he insists with a shrug. “Chill out. Save some of that crazy for the honeymoon.”

  “Fine,” she relents, her features softening despite the way mine scrunch up in offense.

  “You guys suck,” I sigh, rubbing my eyes clear and ignoring their amusement. “He’s probably right, though,” I allow as he moves to leave the kitchen. “It’s been about two months since the baby was born. I’m thinking that’s gotta be a record or something,” I wink. “You’ll probably be knocked up again by the time you get back.”

  “Dude,” Dash deadpans, whereas her features morph into something closer to offense as she points to the door.

  “Get out,” she threatens, making me laugh. “Don’t fucking jinx me, Mason. If I get pregnant again, so help me Jesus…”

  “I think you mean so help me,” Dash interjects almost silently, pinching the bridge of his nose as he blows out a long, deep breath that only I’m meant to hear. “Oh, my God. I only thought about it for a split second and my whole life flashed before my eyes.”

  “What?” she grates out as she quickly whips her head around to face him.

  “I said you’re the love of my life,” he recovers quickly with a sigh, making me laugh as he reaches for her chin and presses his lips to hers despite her set jaw. “The whole package, princess.”

  “Just go,” she rolls her eyes, playfully pushing him out of the living room as she makes her way back to where Alex is waiting for her on the couch. He makes his way down the hallway and she turns to face me. I begin to speak, but her hushed voice cuts me off. “Mase, come here.”

  “What?” I ask, my voice just as low as hers.

  “Don’t you let him go AWOL in that shop,” she insists. “Go in, try on what I ordered, and get him the hell out of there.”

  “Okay,” I nod, my voice trailing off in confusion. “I think we can manage, sis.”

  “I’m freaking serious!” she hisses. “He came at me last night with some bird shirt bullshit and I swear to God…”

  “Bird shirt?” Alex asks, pulling Evie’s horrified expression away from me and toward her momentarily.

  “Girl,” she whispers dramatically. “You can’t even imagine this fuckin’ thing.”

  “Don’t worry. I got you,” I promise through my laughter, rubbing her arm affectionately, smirking when she blows out a long, deep breath. “Jeez. You really do need to chill.”

  “You of all people should know by now that I have no chill,” she admits, her voice tinged with exhaustion.

  “Yeah, but you’re being a little more extra than usual, kid,” I tease, kissing her hair. “The kids are all asleep for once. Lay off the coffee for a few minutes and sit the fuck down or something.”

/>   “Easier said than done,” she sighs as she finishes the last sip in her mug and sets it in the sink. “I’m still hormonal and I’ve barely slept in…” she trails off, calculating. “God, how long has it been?” she continues. “At least two or three years now, I guess?”

  “Dramatic,” I snort, kissing her hair. “Come on. Lemme see the baby.”

  Alex begins to rise from the sofa, and I glare at her, earning a middle finger that I ignore easily. She harshly whispers after us some crap I ignore just as quickly as Evie’s eyes widen up at me.

  “Would you stop it?” she insists, smacking me lightly on the arm before she starts to move down the hallway once more, her steps almost completely silent. “Be nice to my friend.”

  “Get a better friend,” I mock, laughing at her jaw dropping as she smacks me again.

  “So freaking mean,” she mouths, shaking her head. “Okay. We just gotta be quiet.”

  We come to a stop beside the crib, the sight of my youngest nephew making me grin like an idiot. Unlike the twins who each take after Dash or Evie, he looks like a perfect combination of the two of them, his little arms resting peacefully over his head as he breathes in and out.

  His dark hair sweeps naturally down the center of his head, the almost bare sides baring and uncanny resemblance to his fathers’ signature haircut. His full, lower lip juts out while he dreams, reminiscent of a young Evie, pouting when she didn’t get her way as a child – an adult, too, if I’m honest, I think with a smirk. He gently stirs against the light crib sheet and gives me a glimpse of the same dimples he and the twins had taken from Dash and his thick, dark eyelashes flutter, teasing at a glimpse at the bright blue eyes he’d taken from Eve.

  My two favorite people had called a secret truce and somehow fallen in love years ago. Yet, for some reason, this almost silent moment watching their youngest dream days before their wedding makes it all feel a little more real.

  Memories of our youth fly by me in a flash, moments of me begging them to get along, then later warning her not to fall for him despite the way she fought for their relationship, and then again trying to talk sense into her when she almost let him go. Those moments all come back to me and although maybe I shouldn’t be, I’m a little surprised when I feel a thick knot of emotion stuck in my throat and have to swallow it back.

  Evie seems to sense something and leans her head onto my shoulder, giving my arm a quick squeeze of sisterly affection to reassure me that I’m not alone here. She feels it, too.

  My eyes wander to the small but elaborate painting just above his crib, Miles Mason flowing in beautiful script, and I swallow hard again.

  “I still can’t believe you guys named your baby after me,” I muse, my low voice filled with affection. “And that you had this one in a real live hospital.”

  “Yeah, no more curbside service for this girl,” she smirks. “I’d do it all again in a minute, but that was scar-”Movement from inside the crib stops her in her tracks, both of us holding our breath as her face shifts into panic, her hand planting itself over my lips as she mouths her hushed command. “Shh! Shut up! Shitshitshit!” she demands silently, making me laugh once more as she points toward the door, pushing me out. “Get out!” she mouths, gesturing toward the door, the sound of their bathroom door swinging open almost silently making her turn her head instantly, the threat of her unspoken glare falling directly onto Dash. “Out!” she points after me, the motion similar to a deranged flight attendant. I meet him in the hallway, my laughter still quiet, but unending as she comes out a moment later, hand over her heart. “Oh, my God. That was terrifying,” she whispers, panting as she glances back into the bedroom through the cracked door. Her exhausted eyes move back to mine. “I thought we woke him up.”

  “Is he good?” Dash asks, his voice just above a breath, relief filling his features as she nods back at him.

  “Yeah,” she sighs. “Yeah, I think so.”

  He gives Evie a quick kiss on the temple and we all move back toward the living room. I stop briefly to peek in at the twins sleeping, smirking when I see their crazy position and matching open mouths, Aspen’s tiny, hot pink painted toes wiggling gently against the bottom of Dallas’ unsuspecting chin. He twists beside her, the gentle movement making her toes wiggle once more against his skin and he smacks innocently, his inherited dimples flashing quickly before he settles, his chubby little arms falling affectionately around his sisters leg before he grips it to his chest and drifts off to sleep once more.

  “Do they always sleep like that?” I ask, gesturing toward their door when I hear Dash returning to my side.

  He peeks inside, his smile more genuine than any I’d ever seen him wear during the years of our adolescence and he nods.

  “Yeah,” he smirks, his own dimples flashing before he stares in after them for a moment and adjusts the door, facing me. “She got a toe in his nose last week,” he snorts, gesturing for me to follow him down the hallway, smiling wider at my chuckle of disbelief. “I swear to God. Evie got a picture.”

  “Of what?” she asks, glancing up from the now overflowing toy box.

  “Toe nose,” he smiles, pulling it up on his phone, showing me quickly, the three of us giggling in unison. “We should probably get going. Pussycat, you need anything on my way home?”

  “No,” she shakes her head, and it earns her a look of doubt as she glances back at him. “Wait.” She bites on her lower lip, staring off into nothing for a minute before she nods. “Yes. Dinner and diapers.”

  “That sounds more like it,” he smirks. “For who?”

  “Dinner for us and Vin – diapers for everyone.”

  “Okay,” he nods. “That it?”

  “Yes,” she says, making her way back over to us. “Please don’t be late to the fitting,” she says for the third time, prompting Dash to nod again, his eyes already mid-roll. “I can’t stress enough how little I care that I’m annoying you right now, Dash. If you’re late, they’ll make you reschedule, and we don’t have time for that shit.”

  “I know.”

  “Four days, babe.”

  “I know,” he nods again, reaching to press his lips to hers, cutting off her continued nagging. “You said that.”

  “And I’m going to keep saying it until you’re back with a fitted, pre-approved suit,” she promises, her eyebrows crinkled in anxiety despite his kiss. “Send me pictures,” she continues, returning his kiss again. “Don’t forget.”

  “I won’t forget,” he kisses her a final time, releasing her. “You send me some pictures, too,” he calls back with a suggestive wink, making her blush. “You know what I’m sayin’?”

  “Yes, we all know what you’re saying,” I roll my eyes, pushing him out the front door as I ignore their shared laughter at my admittedly childish disgust. “Let’s go, dude.”

  “Love you both,” she calls out quietly, the smile obvious in her voice. We both answer and as we’re about to leave she waves her arm in an effort to gain my attention. “Mase,” she hisses, pulling my eyes to hers, gesturing for me to keep an eye on my best friend. “No bird shirts.”

  “Sure thing, sis,” I laugh. “You got it.”

  *

  “This is kind of crazy, man,” I admit as he walks out of the fitting room, coming to a stop in front of the mirrored wall beside me.

  “I know,” he admits, shaking his head. “Evie said they offered her champagne when she did all the shit for her dress,” he remarks, glancing over his shoulder toward the guy who’s assisting us with disgusted offense. “These cheap fuckers haven’t offered me so much as a bottled water and I’m the clown paying for all this shit.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” I laugh, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “I mean it’s crazy you and my sister…” I trail off, my emotions bubbling slightly in my chest. “I can’t believe you guys are…”

  “Dude, we’ve got three kids,” he cuts me off, his expression stoic. “I’m gonna need you to make your peace with it.”
/>
  “I know that,” I shake my head. “Ass,” I add, giving myself a once over, appreciating the simple, somewhat casual suit my sister had chosen for the wedding. “It’s still weird.”

  “Maybe you’re a little fuckin’ weird, Mase. You ever think about that?”

  “Well, I’d have to be to hang out with you,” I retort, pulling a shrug of indifferent agreement from him as he moves toward the edge of the platform where his dress shoes are waiting.

  “So, how’s shit going with you?” he asks, taking a seat behind me, glancing up to meet my eyes in the mirror. “How’s work going?”

  “It’s going,” I sigh, turning to face him. “Walt’s getting ready to retire. You knew that,” I mention, pulling a nod from him. “So, he’s been around even less than usual, leaving me to deal with bitch-zilla,” I mumble. “I still can’t believe y’all invited her to the wedding, man. Talk about a dick move.”

  “That was your sister, man,” he argues, leaning back in the seat and glancing over at me. “Besides, she kind of had to be invited. She’s Evie’s maid of honor.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I ground out, facing him. “How the fuck did that shit happen?”

  “She and Amy are Evie’s closest friends. I don’t know why you’re surprised. Besides, you’ve known about it for like six months, Mase.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I admit with a sigh. “She’s just really been annoying the fuck out of me the last few weeks and that car ride up here didn’t do a damn bit of good.”

  “She’s not that bad,” he disagrees easily, his expression shifting to disbelief when he sees mine. “What’s so terrible about her?”

  “She keeps telling me what to do and shit,” I complain, making a face as I straighten my jacket. “Shit’s annoying.”

  “She’s supposed to do that,” he chuckles. “She’s your boss.”

  “At work,” I nod. “Not when I’m in my car or at my fucking house.” He laughs at my words and I shake my head. “I just hate it when she thinks she knows shit,” I continue my rant. “The other day, I’m making my orders, minding my business and she walks up behind me and tells me I gotta put cherries in the old-fashioned now,” I scoff. “Like, who the fuck does that?”