Angel of Redemption (86 page)

“Yes.”

“Why?” she whines.

“Because you’re way too smart to just drop out.”

“Not so smart,” she murmurs, bringing the hand
not covering her face to rest on her lower belly. I make the choice not to
indulge her depressed mood.

“You’ve got six more weeks, and then you can take
a break, okay? Maybe we can take a little trip.”

Her arm slips from her face, her eyes lighting
up. “Really?”

I nod. “Sure, why not?”

“To a beach?” she asks hopefully.

“We can probably find a beach to go to,” I laugh.

“Can Logan come, too?”

The question takes me off guard.
“Uh… I
guess we can talk about that.”

“That’s not a no.” She grins. She turns back
over, returning her attention to her book, and I decide to take a shower.

When Dean gets home about an hour and a half
later, he has several Styrofoam containers that smell amazing.

“How’s Gage doing these days?” I ask once Claire
has disappeared to her room to call Logan.

“He’s off the grid,” Dean says, using a napkin to
wipe barbecue sauce off his fingers. “Lance said he had to toss him from the
bar again a few weeks back, and no one’s seen him since.”

“Are you worried?”

He shrugs.
“No. Not really. He always
comes back eventually. He’s probably holed up in his apartment, wasted off his
ass, with some hooker wrapped around his—” he stops and looks up at me.
“Uh…”

“I get it. What about that chick, though? The
waitress with the big boobs. Wasn’t he with her?”

Dean laughs. “Jodi?”

“Whatever,” I bristle, remembering my encounter
with the cheap little viper.

“Neither one of them is the relationship type. I
figured it wouldn’t last long, but it got her off my jock.”

“That’s a really, really good thing,” I mumble,
wrinkling my nose. He pulls me into his arms so that I’m practically in his
lap.

“I wouldn’t have touched her. You know that,
right?”

“Mmhmm,” I hum, letting my lips purse.

“Are you jealous?” He smirks.

“No,” I say indignantly.

He kisses my neck. His lips are warm and soft.
“Not even a little? You’re kinda sexy when you’re jealous.”

I tilt my head away from him, giving him more
room to explore. “Maybe a little.”

He laughs against my skin. “I love you,” he
whispers. I think the words are still foreign to him because they sound funny
—like
he’s speaking a different language and he’s not quite sure if he’s saying them
right. Or maybe they’re foreign to me. Either way, I still love hearing them.

“I love you, too.” I lean into him a little more.
“How was work?”

He sighs deeply and then hums. “Challenging.”

“Anything you can talk about?”

“I probably can, but I really don’t want to.” He
sounds tired. It’s still pretty early, but I wouldn’t mind just crawling into
bed with him and falling asleep.

“What are we going to do tomorrow?” I ask,
changing the subject. This puts a smile on his face.

“I thought I’d take you for a drive.”

“Where?”

“You know better than that, sweetheart.” He
flashes me a devilish smirk. It reminds me of the ones he used to give me when
we were still just dancing around each other.

“Not even a hint?”

“Pack an overnight bag.”

“Wait a minute,” I protest. “It’s your birthday.
I thought we were gonna stay home and
…”

“Play cards? Do each other’s hair?”

I blush. “Those were euphemisms.”

“Uh-huh. Well, I didn’t want to take the chance.
Last time I got my hair done, I looked like some pink-and-purple version of
Frankenstein’s bride.”

I laugh. “You looked so pretty, though,” I coo
playfully. He pokes me in the side, making me curl into myself.

“Laugh it up, sweetheart. Next time we babysit,
you get to be the victim.”

Kayla

“Oh, God, Kayla.” Dean’s
moan is a huge turn on. His hand gripping my hair as I move my mouth over his
swollen cock is even more of one. I love the feel of him in my mouth, his hips
rising and falling rhythmically, working with me to bring him to release.

He was fast asleep when I slipped beneath the
sheets and in-between his legs. Needless to say, he woke up with a start, but
he figured out what was happening pretty quickly. I know his body well enough
by now to know that at this point, all I need to do is grab his balls and tug a
little, and he’ll be done
—which is exactly what I do, and he comes
with a load groan. I let him go and wipe my mouth before crawling up to meet
his tired but happy gaze.

“Happy birthday,” I whisper. He lifts his head,
planting his mouth on mine before flipping me over onto my back.

“Thank you. You’re naked.”

“You noticed.”

“Have you been naked all night?” I shake my head,
offering a coy smile. “Didn’t think so. That’s definitely something I would
have noticed.” He looks down between us at my breasts, smirking. “I like it.”

He kisses me a few times, working my mouth, my
jaw, my neck. His thumbs pass over my nipples. I shudder because I’m really
turned on. I was trying to make this all about him, but that doesn’t appear to
be what’s happening.

“Dean?” I whimper.

“Hmmm?” he hums, his mouth replacing one of his
hands, his tongue flicking out.

“Oh, that feels good.”

He repeats the action. I’m going to lose my
ever-loving mind. I roll my hips up, trying to get friction against his
erection. He gets the message and pulls his hips back just long enough to
position himself and push into me.

“I’m not gonna last,” I cry.

“That’s okay,” Dean assures, speeding up a
little. Wrapping my legs around him brings his pelvis down against me, and I
let go, feeling the pressure that’s been building suddenly erupt. Dean has to
cover my mouth with his hand to keep me quiet. He’s got a huge grin on his face
as he watches me come.

“That is so fucking sexy,” he grunts, removing
his hand and bending down to invade my mouth with his tongue, all the while
still thrusting into me. After a couple of minutes he pulls out. “Turn over.”

I roll over onto my stomach and let him pull me
into position, my ass up in the air. He kisses the stingray on my hip before
sliding back into me. I’m not going to come again, but it still feels amazing.
It doesn’t take much longer before he’s gripping my hips and groaning against
my back.

“Wow,” he sighs falling onto the bed and pulling
me to him. “That’s the best birthday present I’ve ever had.”

I giggle. “Let’s just stay in bed all day.”

“Nope. I have plans for you.” He rolls over, and
I watch his gorgeous ass stride to the bathroom. Groaning and grumbling, I
climb out of bed. It’s only six in the morning. Too freaking early. After going
to the bathroom, I join Dean in the shower. It doesn
’t get too sexual,
but he does insist on washing my boobs.

He gives me about twenty minutes to pack a bag,
and by the time I’m ready to go, Andy has appeared in our kitchen and Claire is
stumbling out of bed.

“Have fun,” she says sleepily, giving me a hug
before lying on the couch and pulling a blanket over herself.

Dean drags me out the door, and we’re on our way.
I still have no idea where we
’re going.

“You know it makes me nervous when you do this,
right?”

“Are you nervous?”

“I’m getting there.
”

“You don
’t trust me?”

“Of course I trust you,” I say, pursing my lips.
“I just like to know where I’m going.”

“You’re a control freak,” Dean chuckles. His voice
is still low and gruff from waking up so early. A few minutes later, we pull
into the parking lot of the Jumping Bean.

“We’re not going back to the beach house for one
day, are we?” I ask as Dean cuts the engine.

“That’s an eight-hour drive, Kayla. No.”

“Then what are we doing?”

“Getting coffee,” he says, a hint of sarcasm
lacing his tone.

“Smart-ass,” I mumble, getting out of the car.

He slings his arm around my shoulders. “Would you
just relax?”

Mita is behind the counter, looking gorgeous as
ever. How she manages that at 7:00 a.m., I will never know, and chances are she’s
been here for awhile. She glances over and grins, holding up a finger as she
helps the customers in line. For a second, I watch her shout out orders to the
barista before the customer actually says anything. She’s friendly and
engaging.

Dean and I take a seat in the corner. It’s a tiny
table, but it’s the only one available. Minutes later, Mita sets down two
coffees and two pastries in front of us.

“How do you do that?” I ask, staring down at my
black coffee.

“Do what?” she chirps.

“Know what everyone wants before they order.”

Mita shrugs. “A lot of these people are regulars,
and I have a good memory.”

“Huh. That’s impressive.”

She leans down, wrapping her arms around my neck
and kissing my cheek. She smells good, like fresh baked bread and chocolate.
“How
’re you doing, Kayla?”

“I’m good.” I smile as she stands back up. “How
are you?”

“I am fantastic, thank you.” She grins and then
looks down at Dean. “Get your ass up here and give me a hug, birthday brat.”
Dean groans, but stands up obediently. “I can’t believe my baby cousin is
thirty years old,” she says in a teasing tone. “I think
…” She leans in
close, picking at a strand of his hair. “Oh my God. I think I see a gray one.”

Dean slaps her hand away, making her—and
me—laugh.

“I’m just kidding. You’re still as devilishly good-looking
as you’ve always been. You guys hanging around?”

Dean shakes his head. “I’m taking her to Camelot,
”
he tells her. I narrow my eyes in confusion. I would have thought it
impossible, but Mita’s smile widens.

“You are?”

“What’s Camelot?” I ask.

“Don’t tell her. It’s a surprise.” Dean snickers
when I scoff.

“I’ll just tell you that you’ll love it. Have
fun. I gotta get back to work. I have a birthday present for you when you get
back, though,” she calls out, hurrying to help the poor barista who’s trying
desperately to keep up.

Back in the car, I’m a little more relaxed. “How
long is the drive?”

“An hour and a half.”

“That’s it?”

Dean nods. “Yep. Sit back, drink your coffee, and
enjoy the ride.”

I watch the city disappear as we head east on
I-94. By the time we enter Wisconsin, my curiosity is definitely getting the
better of me. Dean pulls off of the highway, heading south. I see signs for Elk
Creek Lake.

“Are we going to the lake?” I ask, knowing full
well he’s not going to tell me much.

“Nope.”

I sigh and lean back in my seat. Eventually, he
pulls onto a dirt road. Over the top of a hill, a huge house appears. Dean
pulls up to it and cuts the engine. I wait for him to come around and help me
out, not because I’m letting him be a gentleman, but because I’m busy staring at
the house in front of us.

“What is this place?” I ask, standing up after he
opens my door.

“Wyatt Estate. My granddad’s.”

“This is the place you were telling me about? The
one where they have the Christmas benefit?”

He nods. “Yep.”

“Wow. Why do you call it Camelot?”

“Uh,” he scratches his neck. “When we were kids,
we used to pretend we were Knights of the Round Table and this was our castle.
Aiden was usually King Arthur. I was Lancelot.”

“And Mita was Guinevere?”

Dean laughs. “Sometimes. But usually she was a
female knight
—an Italian lady, disguised as a man so she could
fight to avenge her father’s death. She would sword fight and wrestle all while
wearing the most elaborate dresses she owned.”

I smile. “It sounds like you guys had fun here.”

“We did,” Dean sighs and picks up our bags. “Come
on. Let’s go.”

Setting down his bag, he pulls out his keys, but
he doesn’t need them. A woman, probably in her sixties with short, blond hair,
opens the door.

“Dean.”

“Mrs. Elliot,” Dean greets politely. He turns toward
me. “This is my girlfriend, Kayla. Kayla, this is Mrs. Elliot. She’s my
granddad’s nurse.”

She smiles at me and opens the door wider. “Come
on in. He’s sleeping right now. I wasn’t sure what time you were planning on
being here, so I didn’t want to disturb his schedule. You know what he’s like.”

Dean nods. “That’s okay. I’m going to put our
things in my usual room, and then I’ll show Kayla around.”

“Perfect. There’s plenty to eat in the fridge. I’ll
come find you when he’s ready.” She disappears up a main staircase and off to
the right. Dean picks up our bags again, and I follow him up the stairs. We go
off to the left.

“I guess there will be no getting loud here,” I
say under my breath. Dean turns around with a grin.

“What gives you that impression?”

“Uh
…the last thing I want to do is meet
Alexander the Great and then have him hear me…”

Dean lets out a loud barking laugh. “First of
all, sweetheart, his room is all the way on the other side of the house. I can
guarantee you that Aiden and Emily have made some noise in this house without
anyone knowing.”

“How do
you
know, then?” I ask
snidely.

“My brother has a tendency for TMI. Secondly,” he
continues, “my granddad is completely deaf without his hearing aids, and he
doesn’t wear them to bed.”

“But Mrs. Elliot’s not,” I protest.

He opens the door to a room and sets down the
bags, pulling me into his arms. “Don’t worry about it, baby. The walls are
thick.” He knocks on the wall closest to us. It doesn’t leave the echoing sound
my drywall does. It almost seems to absorb the noise. He leans down to kiss me,
and I let him because it’s his birthday and he gets whatever he wants today.

After a few minutes of making out and groping,
Dean pulls me back down the stairs for that promised tour.

The place is massive. There are two large rooms
connected by a sliding wall, which apparently serves as the ballroom during the
benefit. There
’s a huge gourmet kitchen. A study. A library. An
entertainment room. Upstairs is mostly bedrooms, ten in all, each with its own
en suite. Dean points out his granddad’s bedroom but doesn’t open the door.
Directly across the hall is Mrs. Elliot’s room, which he also leaves alone.
There’s a pool, too, but it’s covered.

“Guess they haven’t had the maintenance guys out
here to clean it yet.”

“When was the last time you were here?” I ask.

“Christmas.” Dean frowns. “I should come up more
often.”

“But he doesn’t remember you?”

He shakes his head. “Sometimes he does, but
usually I have to remind him.”

Outside gorgeous, old trees dot the rolling hills.
One of them even holds a tire swing. From the terrace I can see a pond and
remember the story Dean told me about catching frogs.

“Dean?” Mrs. Elliot’s voice calls from the French
doors behind us. We both turn. “He’s up and ready for visitors.”

Dean threads his fingers with mine, and we follow
Mrs. Elliot up to Granddad Wyatt’s room. He’s sitting in a powder-blue chair
next to a bay window. He has a tray on a small table in front of him, and I can
see his hands shaking as he brings a spoonful of oatmeal to his mouth.

“Alexander, your grandson’s here,” she says
loudly. “And he’s brought a friend.”

“Which one?” he booms. I expected a weak and
fragile voice from the looks of him, so I jump at the strength behind his tone.

“Dean.
”

He looks up at us and squints. After a minute, he
frowns. “Who are you?”

Dean walks forward and sits in one of the chairs
across from his grandfather. “It’s me, Granddad. Dean.”

The old man shakes his head. “You’re not Dean.”

“I am.”

“You’re not! Dean’s
…” He furrows his brow.
“Today is Dean’s birthday. He’s ten.”

“You’re right. Today’s my birthday, Granddad. But
I’m thirty now.”

I’m trying to control the ache in my chest that’s
causing my throat to dry out. There’s a sadness in Dean’s eyes that I hoped I’d
never see again—a look of pain and loss.

“Thirty?” the old man asks, staring at Dean. They
have the same eyes. “How?” No one answers. How do you tell a man he’s lost the
last twenty years of his life? That some cruel disease of the mind has stripped
him of everything? Dean takes his granddad’s hand in one of his and mine in the
other.

“This is Kayla, Granddad.” The old man’s eyes
shift to me. He looks me up and down and grins.