Beauty from Pain (Beauty, #1)(62)

He twists the phone to see a picture from a different angle. “Damn, Jack, are you screwing her in this picture?”

“No!” I don’t know. Maybe. Depends on which picture he’s talking about.

I jerk it out of his hand and he has this look in his eyes. I think it’s admiration, but I can’t be sure. “You lucky bastard. Emma would never let me take pictures like that of her. Not even before she had the kids. And there’s no way she’d let me take a picture of her getting screwed. How did you talk her into letting you do that?”

I’m pissed off at my brother for invading my privacy—and Laurelyn’s—but I roll with it rather than start a fight. It wouldn’t go over well to beat his ass in front of his wife and kids. “Just lucky, I guess.”

I don’t want to talk about Laurelyn this way with him. She’s my secret—one I don’t want to share—and my family is showing way too much interest in her.

“Are you serious about this girl?”

Has my brother lost his mind? I give him my “are you f*cking kidding me?” face while I laugh. “I’ve known her a month. What do you think?”

The little shit is laughing at me. “I think you don’t like it that I saw nudie pictures of your girl.”

That part I can’t deny. It makes me sick that he saw what was supposed to be for my eyes only. “She’s not naked.”

“Bullshit.”

Emma comes into the living room and sees the glares passing between us. “What are you two fighting about?”

“Baby, my big brother was just showing me some pictures of his American girlfriend. Go ahead, Jack. Show Emma your girlfriend.”

The f*cking traitor wants to sell me out? I’ll fix his ass so he doesn’t get any naughty all month. I thumb through the pics until I find one portraying us as the doting couple and hold it up for Emma. “Evan told me she’s a hot piece of ass and he’d do her. I can’t believe he’d say that about my girlfriend.”

Evan: score zero. Jack: score thirty. As in the number of days my little bro was going to be cock blocked. Hah! Take that you little f*cker!

Emma stares him down. “Em, I didn’t say that.”

“Jack’s thirty years old. Am I supposed to just believe he made that up because he has nothing better to do?”

“Yes, he does shit like that to get me in trouble. He doesn’t have a wife so he finds it entertaining to mess with mine.”

Her eyes shoot daggers in his direction. “I’m not discussing this with you now, Evan.”

That’s right, little bro. While you’re not screwing your wife, you can spend the next month with your hand around your dick thinking about how to not f*ck with me.

Emma reaches for my phone to take a better look at Laurelyn. “Jack, she’s beautiful. May I show Margaret?”

It’s probably safer for me to hold onto the phone so I can ensure there are no more peep shows. “I’ll show her when she’s finished in the kitchen.”

Emma isn’t going to let me get away without showing Mum pictures of Laurelyn, so I check the camera roll to see where the sexy ones start. The first twelve are all clear, but I’ll only show her the first ten to be safe.

Mum comes into the living room when she’s finished in the kitchen and Emma doesn’t let it slide. “Margaret, Jack has some pictures of his girlfriend on his phone.”

My mum is ecstatic. “Wait, I need my eyes.” She scurries to the kitchen and returns wearing reading glasses. She takes the phone from my hand and holds it where she can see it better. “Oh, Jack Henry. She’s a lovely girl. She’d have beautiful babies.”

Oh, hell. Here we go.

She thumbs to the second picture and it’s Laurelyn holding her Martin guitar. The third is her playing my piano at Avalon. “And she’s a musician. She’d teach your children to play instruments and sing.”

I can hear the wedding bells in my mum’s head.

The next several pictures are random candids Laurelyn doesn’t know I took. Some smiling, some solemn, but always beautiful.





31

Laurelyn Prescott

Mrs. Porcelli kept me company after Lachlan left. She stayed and joined me for dinner, per my request, but now she is gone to her quarters for the evening and I’m alone in the house at night for the first time.

I’m not scared. I’m bored. And lonely. I want Lachlan here with me.

I call Addison, but don’t get an answer, so I leave a voicemail. “Hey, Addie. I thought we might get together for lunch tomorrow. Give me a call if you’re up for it.”

I turn on the television, but can’t find anything I want to watch. I decide Lachlan’s absence might be the perfect time to use my pole for a workout. I haven’t used it for exercise once since it’s been installed. Every time I try, he puts on some sexy music and my workout becomes a show for his pleasure.

I put my hair into a bun because I’m going to get hot and sweaty. I change into the two-piece set I bought for practice. It isn’t sexy like the ones Lachlan buys for me. It’s a practical black racer-back top with matching sport shorts, the same type of outfit I would wear if I were going to class.

I go into the gym and turn on the receiver. I put “Lift Me Up” by Christina Aguilera on repeat. I’ve been thinking about choreographing a slow, graceful routine to that song for months and this is the first opportunity I’ve had to be alone with a pole.