99 Percent Mine(74)



He gives up. “Can I please buy you a new robe?”

“That would be a very romantic gesture. Make it something short and silky.” I grin at his exasperated expression.

“Shorter and silkier than this? Please, don’t walk around like this in case guys turn up early.”

“This was an emergency and you know it. Don’t be telling me what to wear, I don’t like it.” I lean on the door behind me and bite my lip. “Hey. We smell like each other.”

He shushes me desperately. I cross my bare feet at the ankles and look at his body, my brain full of grateful thoughts and erotic memories, until he finds words.

“You really need to stop looking at me like that. I did wake you up to tell you I was leaving for the airport. We had a complete conversation about it. You were comatose.” He smiles despite his stress. “You said, Okay, Valeska. Go fetch.”

We hear Jamie’s voice, echoing in the empty space. He could be on the phone, or just as easily talking aloud to himself.

“I swear, he even talked in the womb. Tom, I can barely walk. Every step, I can feel you. My body is just … squeezing. Now that you’ve been in me, all I can feel is hollow.”

His eyelashes flutter and he swallows. “If he’d gotten a cab …”

“We’d be kissing on a cloud in heaven right about now. It’s okay. We’ll just talk to him.”

“What, now?” Panic has him crazy-eyed.

I go into the bathroom and shut the door. “Yes, of course, now. You think I’m going to miss out on more of what I got last night, because of my brother? I’m surprised how calm I am, actually.”

I wash my hands and dry them on one of Loretta’s hand towels. My cosmetic bag is here, but I look in the filmy mirror and don’t need it. I’m smoky eyed, with pink-marshmallow lips and a purple mark on my throat. Boy hair and girl body. I’m sexy as hell.

“This is a good look for me. Could you mess up my makeup for me every morning?”

He says nothing. I hope he’s still there.

“This was a nice touch.” I open the door and indicate my neck. I put my hand up to scrape his hair neater, but he steps away out of my reach.

“We can’t say anything to him. We can’t.”

“You’re a big boy,” I tell him sharply, even though my confidence is starting to falter. “I’m a big girl. None of us are eight anymore. Let’s just tell him and work through it.” I look up at the house. “He might be glad. He hates my usual selections. You’re like, the supreme option.”

My brain mimics Jamie so loud I flinch. The husband option.

“Listen to me,” Tom says, his voice like steel. “He is not going to be glad. He’s going to cut my dick off.”

“I’ll protect you. I absolutely love your dick. Did I make that clear enough last night?”

His expression says yes. “If we tell him, the renovation is a guaranteed fail.” He looks back up at the house. The first pink rays of sunrise mean that the crew will turn up soon. Tom’s got even more on his plate, more roles to juggle. Employees and invoices to pay. Inheritances to secure.

“I’m helping you now, dummy. We’re a team.”

“If we tell Jamie he’ll be angry and hurt. He thinks he knows everything, but he never saw this coming.”

I’m remorseless. “He can deal.”

“He’s been working in the city awhile now and he suspects everyone of backstabbing. Except me. I’m one of the only people he trusts. The same way that you trust me. Completely and blindly.” He softens a bit. “You don’t know what that kind of responsibility feels like.”

“Maybe he’s a secret romantic,” I try, but it’s ridiculous to think that.

“He’ll be so betrayed he’ll fight us on everything, on principle. If we want to paint the house blue, he’ll insist on pink. He’ll want that wall put back up. I’ll have to cancel every single thing I’ve ordered. This is the one person who will make my life a living hell.”

“Maybe I’ll be the second one.” I give him an exasperated look. “I’d better get dressed so I can support you through this mental and professional crisis.”

“Take this seriously. You’re going to get forgiven, no matter what, Princess.” Tom’s eyes are angry now. “Me, I’m completely screwed.”

Tom puts Patty down and hooks his arms under me. I’m easily hoisted, like a little dog being carried over the dirty ground. There’s no exertion evident in him as we round the corner of the house, pass the fishpond, and take the path to my door.

“You know what he’s like. Please, Darce, we have to keep this under wraps until the house is done. If we can’t get a good sale …” He stops himself from saying more.

He puts me down over the threshold of the studio and looks at my robe, and I have never seen a more conflicted human being. He must rue the day he was found by the Barretts. My feet are princess-clean. Patty walks in behind us, muddy and miffed.

“You never did have to care about money. I have to care.”

“I care. Why do you think I work at the bar?”

He huffs insultingly. “Surely that doesn’t even cover your wine habit.”

“It covers my health insurance,” I fire back, angry. “You really think I’m a lazy little princess, leeching off my parents, don’t you? I don’t take a cent from them.”

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