Protecting His Own (Masters of the Shadowlands Book 11) Page 10

  “You Texans.” Beth snorted. “I guess I should be grateful you don’t decorate with dead animals, antlers, and cowboy lamps.”

  “You are a lucky woman.” And he’d make sure she never visited his Uncle Bubba’s place. He rose. “I’ll get the door. Were we expecting someone?”

  “Alastair was going to come over.”

  Alastair Drago. Now why was the new Shadowlands Master visiting?

  He opened the front door to two men. One was a tall black man attired in a button-down, white shirt, and tan slacks. The cavorting puppies on his tie meant he was in need of psychiatric help—or he was a pediatrician. Nolan nodded. “Good to see you, Drago.”

  “And you, as well.” Shifting his doctor’s bag to his other hand, Alastair indicated the man in jeans and T-shirt beside him. “I believe you met my cousin Max Drago the other day at the station He works homicide with Dan Sawyer.”

  “We met.” Nolan studied the man as they shook hands. An inch taller than Nolan, thickly muscled, cobalt blue eyes. His military bearing was accompanied by the intense focus of someone who’d learned the need for constant situational awareness. Probably a war vet. “Appreciate your help in the interview room.”

  “I’m glad you saved them from the dumbass social worker.” Max had a firm grip. “Since Alastair was coming, I butted in. I wanted to see how the boys are doing.”

  “The little men get to you, don’t they? Come on in. They’re in the pool.” Nolan led them through the house, pleased to see scattered toys in the great room. That was the way a living room should look.

  Wrapped in beach towels, Beth and the home crew were in chairs on the patio.

  “Alastair, it’s good to see you.” Beth smiled at him before turning to Nolan. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you. Z asked him to check the gash on Connor’s back.”

  “Here?” Why not at the doctor’s office?

  “Z said the children would feel more comfortable in a less clinical setting.” Noting the boys’ wary glances, Alastair took a chair across from Beth and set his bag beside him.

  “Why is that cop here?” Grant whispered to Beth with his gaze on Max. “Is he going to take us away?”

  “Nah. I’m not here for you guys. Don’t even have a weapon.” Max nodded toward Alastair. “The doc there is my cousin. After he checks you over, we’re headed for the beach to get supper.”

  When he dropped into a chair, both boys relaxed. “You’ve got a nice place here, King. I like the lake.”

  Nolan leaned his shoulder against a pillar. “Me, too. It’s quiet, something to be savored after a day at a construction site.”

  “I bet.”

  “Nolanman builds houses,” Connor announced. “Big ones.”

  “So I hear.” Max raised his eyebrows. “Nolanman? Like Iron Man?”

  Connor nodded firmly. “He saves people.”

  “And he’s better than Iron Man, ’cause he doesn’t need armor.” Grant bounced in his chair, obviously ready for Nolan to start performing incredible feats of rescue.

  Jesus.

  As the boys regaled Beth and Alastair with their favorite Iron Man scenes, Nolan told Max, “They’ll figure out soon enough I’m no superhero.”

  A corner of Max’s mouth lifted. “Maybe. However, I’m still pretty sure my father is close kin to Superman.” The laughter died from his eyes. “He had a cancer scare this year. Shocked the hell out of all of us that he really might be mortal. But when the time does come, I figure he’ll show me how to pass on with grace and style.

  “Mine is like that.” In fact, when he had a family, he hoped to be as fine a role model as his pa was. “Although, I wasn’t much impressed with his style when he was tanning my ass.”

  “Same here.” Max’s hearty laugh caught the attention of the boys, and he said, “I see you’ve been swimming. Is Red here treating you all right?”

  Connor’s face screwed up in indignation. “She’s not red. She’s Beff.”

  “Ah.” The cop smothered a laugh. “I stand corrected. My name is Max.” He nodded to his cousin. “And he’s Dr. Drago.”

  Alastair smiled at the boys. “I’m a kid doctor. I hear Connor’s back got banged up?”

  Grant shifted uneasily. “What are you gonna do?”

  “I won’t know until I see what’s wrong.” Alastair motioned to Beth. “Can you and Connor come over here?”

  Smart. Best if the big doctor stayed sitting. Since Connor would be standing, he wouldn’t feel trapped. And Beth would be right there.

  When Beth took Connor’s hand and pulled him out of his chair in a matter-of-fact way, he obediently followed. The tyke would probably follow Beth right into hell if need be. Nolan sure as fuck would.

  “Let’s do it this way.” She hugged the boy to her and pushed his towel down to bare his back to the doc.

  “Ouch,” Alastair said mildly. “You have a nice gash with bruising around it, Connor, but it’s healing.” He glanced at Beth. “There is no sign of infection. Swimming is fine, for short periods. Stay too long and the scab will become water-logged and scrape off too easily.” He caught Connor’s over-the-shoulder gaze as he pulled a stethoscope from his bag. “I brought this to prove I’m a doctor. Can I listen to your heart if I let you listen to Grant’s?”

  Connor studied the device, decided it wasn’t a needle, and his lips tilted up. “ ’Kay.”

  “Excellent. Take a big breath.”

  The doc had some serious kid skills, and the exam—for both boys—went smoothly. Grant even answered questions while Alastair checked his bruised face.

  As the doc stowed his medical gear away, Nolan realized Beth had deliberately gone swimming with the boys. They were wearing only shorts, and their battered torsos were easy to assess. The myriad of yellow and purple bruises created a vivid testimony of how they’d lived.

  Max’s face had gone so deadly that Grant was giving him worried glances.

  Nolan cleared his throat, caught the cop’s attention, and nodded toward the boy.

  Catching the hint, Max stared at his feet for a second, and when he looked up, all anger had disappeared.

  Relaxing, Grant returned his attention to where Alastair and Connor were playing a counting-fingers game.

  “Any information you can share about Drusilla?” Nolan asked the cop quietly.

  “Not much. Found the boyfriend. According to him and the neighbors, she’d been bingeing on crystal meth since leaving the shelter.”

  “We heard she’s still in a coma,” Nolan said.

  “True. The docs aren’t giving any percentages there. Might still recover, might not. She’s all of twenty-seven and could well die of a stroke.” Max’s mouth twisted sourly. “I hate that fucking drug.”

  “Yeah.” Twenty-seven. After talking with Grant, he knew she’d been a decent mother before life—and meth—twisted her. Now, her sons would live with the ugly memories of her addiction for the rest of their lives. Dammit.

  “My professional opinion is that you both are healthy lads.” Alastair rose and picked up his bag.

  “Good to hear,” Nolan said.

  Alastair nodded. “They need to see a dentist soon. And their immune systems are probably not up to par, so you might have more than the normal number of kid illnesses.”

  Beth stood and smiled at him. “The house call is very appreciated, Doc.”

  He looked down at her, the tenderness and worry in his gaze obvious. “You still appear a bit off, love. Don’t make me lecture you again. You should pamper yourself as well as your menfolk.”

  Her lips curved up. “Pamper myself? And what kind of Domly advice is that?”

  “Mine.”

  What the fuck? Feeling more than a mite uneasy, Nolan frowned and put an arm around Beth’s shoulder in a deliberate claiming gesture. His voice came out cold. “Where did y’all do this…lecturing?”

  With a frown, Max glanced between them, then walked back to the children. A second later, Connor’s giggles were joined by
Grant’s quieter laugh.

  Alastair’s puzzled gaze turned toward Beth. “We talked when she was at my house.”

  His house? Nolan stiffened. “When was this, Beth?”

  “The day after you came home from Africa. I told you I was seeing him.” Beth’s eyes narrowed in thought. “I do remember you were half-asleep while I was talking. Maybe you missed it?”

  “Missed what?”

  “I’m doing the landscaping at his house.”

  Well, fuck. “A client.” The new one she’d gotten up early to meet.

  She giggled. “Precisely.”

  “Beth.” Alastair’s expression was disapproving. “He also asked about the lecture.”

  Nolan’s gut clenched when Beth flushed. But she simply sighed. “The day I met him, I was…unhappy. I’d planned to wait until you were feeling better before telling you about…my summer…but he made me promise not to delay.” Beth’s face turned redder. “It didn’t matter; you dug out the information, anyway.”

  Nolan’s lips twitched. He’d learned early in their relationship that fucking her worked better than any truth serum. And he’d been an idiot. “I see. Okay, then.” He met the other Dom’s level gaze. “I appreciate your care with my submissive.”

  Alastair’s smile was white in his dark face. “Since you didn’t know she’s our landscaper, I can understand your concern. I respect how you addressed it immediately.”

  As they escorted the cousins to the door, Nolan shook his head. Concern be damned—he’d overreacted. Because his first wife had been a liar and a cheat. Apparently, Beth wasn’t the only person to have lingering problems bequeathed from an ex-spouse.

  Chapter Eight

  Monday at noon, Beth walked out of the hot sun and into the coolness of the martial arts studio. The center of the long room held a few college-aged students counting their push-ups in Japanese. Supervising them, the sensei saw her and gave a formal nod.

  When Master Marcus had told the studio’s owner about the Shadowkittens teaching themselves self-defense, he’d offered them free space in his dojo—and when he wasn’t tied up with his regular classes, he’d assist with theirs. He’d taught them some pretty sneaky moves.

  “Hey, it’s Beth!” Andrea’s voice came from the far side of the dojo. The other three women over there turned and waved.

  Beth grinned. It was nice to be back. Carrying her shoes, she walked around the perimeter of the mirror-walled room, inhaling the scents of sweat, the cleansers used on the mats covering the floor, and a hint of sandalwood incense. After tossing her shoes in a cubby, she joined her friends.

  “Girl, it’s been a long time.” Slender, black-haired Kim gave her a hug.

  “It really has. I’ve missed you guys.” Beth couldn’t stop smiling.

  When Andrea leaned down to kiss her cheek, Beth asked, “How go the wedding plans?”

  “Mierda. The guest count grows bigger and bigger—because mi abuelita insists on having everyone she knows, and she knows everyone in Tampa.”

  “I bet she does.” Andrea’s tiny grandmother was a force of nature. “You’re doomed, honey.”

  “Oh, I know. We’ve already had to reserve a larger building for the reception. Cullen says we should fly to Vegas and just ‘do it.’ ” Andrea’s light Spanish accent grew stronger with her obvious exasperation.

  “He sounds like Anne. She’s been pushing for a quickie ceremony with Ben.” Beth looked around. “Where is she, anyway?”

  “She was involved in a missing teenager search and couldn’t get away,” Kim said, “but she’ll join us afterward for pizza.”

  “Oh good.” Beth bounced a little. “I want to see the evil Mistress’ baby bump.”

  “She’s so cute.” With shaggy, strawberry blonde hair and wide, brown eyes, Gabi was Beth’s height but much curvier. Perhaps because she was a victim specialist, she gave the warmest hugs. “I’m so glad you’re back. And I hear you have changes in your life.”

  “Oooo, gossip.” Sally used her hips to edge Gabi away far enough to give Beth a happy squeeze. “Spit it out.”

  Before Beth could speak, Gabi said, “We saw Dan and Kari last night and heard that Connor and Grant from the shelter are staying with Beth and Nolan.”

  “You have the two cuties at your house?” Pulling her brown curly hair up into a twist, Sally tried to talk around the scrunchie in her mouth. “I thought they went home with their mom.”

  “She’s in the hospital. Price said they were searching for relatives.”

  Andrea shook her head. “Those poor babies. They must be so scared.”

  “They are. But they’re settling in.” Beth smiled. “Nolan came home to be with them while I’m here. And since I’m in fighting class”—she used air quotes to emphasize the word—“he promised they’d have their own lessons at home. They’re thrilled, especially Grant.”

  “He’s quite the little man, isn’t he?” Andrea slid down into the splits.

  “Oh, he is. Sometimes he acts as if he’s Nolan’s age.” Beth noticed a pretty black woman hovering in the door. “Hey, Uzuri is here. Somebody grab her before she changes her mind.” Since the beginning, they’d tried to get her to the self-defense classes, and she’d never come once.

  “I’m on it.” Sally trotted around the perimeter of the room, avoiding the small class. She latched onto Uzuri’s arm and dragged the prankster to the group.

  “Uzuri, at last.” Gabi hugged her. “I didn’t think you’d ever join us. Why’d you finally cave in?”

  “Because of Holt.” Uzuri pouted. “He’s an annoyingly rah-rah Rowdies fan, so I bet him that San Antonio’s Scorpions would win the game. Would you believe the Rowdies slaughtered my team last week? Stupid soccer.”

  “I like that he forced you to be here, though. The new Master is making his influence felt.” Andrea waggled her eyebrows. “Is he exerting his efforts in other ways?”

  Uzuri’s skin darkened with a flush, but she laughed. “No, Ms. Gutter Mind. We’re friends—with occasional benefits and scenes—but nothing more. There’s no zing. You know, like some guys just…do it for you and make your pulse go rat-a-tat?”

  A chorus of agreement came from the other women, who had Doms of their own.

  Sally grinned. “Yeah. I’ve got two of them who do.”

  “Blondie, I can’t even deal with one man. Never in a bazillion years, would I sign on for two at once.” Seeing the shelves, Uzuri stored her purse and the loose shirt she’d worn over her hot pink tank top. Beth gave her lightweight beige jeggings an admiring look. Trust Uzuri to find awesome workout gear.

  “Let’s get started so we can get some pizza afterward.” Sally pointed at the mat. “Uzuri, stretch out like Beth.”

  Uzuri sank gracefully down onto a mat and started stretching.

  Beside her, Beth pressed her forehead against her knees, feeling the pull in her leg tendons. Darn it. She’d lost her bet with Nolan. Last spring, she’d been sure Uzuri and Holt would fall in love. They were so cute, him all biker-tough, tanned, and dark blond, her so stylish, dusky skinned, and black-haired. At the club, Uzuri scened with him all the time. She’d bet Nolan that they’d end up together.

  Sir had disagreed. He thought Uzuri scened with Holt because he didn’t push her, not because she wanted him as a permanent Dom. And her Master had taken the bet.

  Unfortunately, when she’d offered a week of oral sex as the stakes, Sir had laughed, since he could simply say, “Blowjob, darlin’. Now,” anytime he wanted. As the loser, she would have to bake two pies every week for a month. So unhealthy. Bad enough she made him cookies all the time. Those, at least, contained oatmeal and nuts. Pies were pure sugar and fat. Damn sweet-loving Dom.

  “I was rather hoping you and Holt would get together,” Gabi told Uzuri. “But I’m glad you and he are on the same page.” When Gabi put her palms flat against the floor, her voice grew muffled. “It’s not so great if one person is in lust and the other one isn’t. I remember when I was head
-over-heels for one guy, but he looked at me and saw only the extra ten pounds I can never shed.”

  Complaints came from the others about the proverbial ten pounds that could never be lost.

  Well, at least she didn’t have that problem, Beth thought, gripping her ankles. Quite the contrary, which was why Nolan kept pushing food on her. Stretching harder, she stared at her muscular, bony thighs. In fact, since he returned home, her Master had been constantly nagging her to eat. Did that mean he didn’t like the way she looked? After all, at one time, he’d preferred his women soft and curvy.

  Soft and curvy like Alyssa was. Beth’s mouth twisted. Yesterday, Alyssa had been at the house for Nolan’s therapy, once again when Beth wasn’t home.

  Had she pressed those big breasts against him? Had he enjoyed it?

  No. She was falling into foolish Kyler-induced self-loathing. Stop. She’d conquered these self-doubts before. She would again.

  As for Alyssa? Nolan hadn’t asked her to do therapy; Beth had. His shoulder was getting better, so it was a good decision.

  Enough angst. Time to kick Cass, as Connor would say. Beth rose. “I’m ready to toss some punches around.”

  “Over here, Zuri.” Andrea pulled her off to one side for beginning lessons while Beth joined the others, working on blocks and kicks.

  The blood started to hum nicely in Beth’s veins. Grinning, she easily blocked Kim’s punch and kicked toward her knee, stopping before she made contact. She’d missed this. Working out with her friends, doing self-defense, made her feel stronger. Braver.

  Eventually, though, all of them should work out against guys. Sparring with girlfriends was a lot different from facing down a big guy. When that abuser and his friends had attacked Beth’s friends, Uzuri said she’d frozen up completely.

  Beth had a feeling she would have done the very same thing.

  Chapter Nine

  Through her open door, Beth could hear giggling from downstairs. Candyland had been a hit, and the boys were playing another game while she made phone calls. With a smile, she listened to the private adoption lawyer reiterating how the process would work: A pregnant woman would choose Nolan and Beth out of the pile of prospective parents. They’d cover the woman’s bills and hospital fees. Papers would be signed…etc. etc. Lawyers loved all that paperwork, didn’t they?