Mal nodded, finishing up doing a third tiny plait on the head of one of the twins. “Your story had me on the edge of my seat, Marty. Which isn’t easy considering I’m sitting on the ground. Okay, another successful hairdo. Let’s hear it for Uncle Mal!”
All of the children clapped their hands.
“M-A-L, he’s the best. Yes, he is.” The drummer had a full cheer routine with hand motions and all going on. “Yay for Uncle Mal!”
Lena just shook her head. “Martha, come see this one. I think it might make a good cover shot.”
“Coming.” I hopped up.
“Can I stop staring slightly broodingly yet meaningfully at the wall now?” asked Adam.
“No, stay there,” ordered Lena. “The light’s perfect.”
On top of deciding to become Adam’s manager (with Sam MIA I had plenty of time to think deep thoughts), I’d temporarily played the part of his stylist today. Mal had offered, but we’d let him experiment on the children instead. Hence the current array of crazy hairdos on everyone under three. The second twin had an attempt at a mohawk and Gib’s hair had been spiked. Lots of hair products were involved in both. Lizzy or Ben could do bath time tonight. My nephew had a tendency to howl like a banshee when hair wash time came around. No way would I be volunteering.
“Nice,” I said, checking out the picture.
“The wall will be out of shot, but you see what I mean about the light?”
I nodded. “The shadows work. Very emotive.”
“I feel like an idiot,” mumbled Adam in his black shirt and distressed jeans. We’d nailed the outfit. It really made the most of his messy hair and lanky frame.
“And you look like one,” said Mal. “Rest assured.”
Dave chuckled. “Get used to it. Photo shoots are always awkward as hell. Remember that time they tried to put me in red sequinned pants?”
“That was special. Though the tartan suit was my favorite.”
“Actually, I didn’t mind it.”
“Davie, you are such a show pony.”
“Afternoon, ladies and gentleman.” A familiar deep voice entered the room. “And children, of course.”
My head shot up, eyes narrowing.
Sam stopped cold. “My love, it’s good to see you. Is something wrong?”
“It is good to see you,” I said, abandoning the camera and heading straight for the bodyguard. “Surprising to see you even.”
“What’s with that tone of voice?”
“Guess.”
“You’re very, very angry.” He slid an arm around my waist. I didn’t knock it away. Not yet at least.
“Four days, Sam. Four days with barely a fu…” I looked down just in time to catch Gibby attaching himself to my leg. “Freaking word.”
“Sam-Sam-Sam.” The small child grinned, reaching out to pat the black slacks of the big man. The one in seriously deep shit.
“Hello, Gibby.” Sam smiled then exhaled. “Martha, I’ve been busy at Jim and Lena’s. I texted to tell you that.”
“One single text. That’s the best you could manage.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Ah...”
I said nothing.
“I should have at least made the effort to call you. You’re right.”
“Keep going,” I encouraged. Still not smiling.
“It’s possible I have some workaholic tendencies. And well, we’ve been very busy…and, um…” His gaze darted around the room, seeking inspiration or pleading for help from the other adults. So nice to have everyone witnessing yet another dramatic moment.
“May I remind you that you said working twenty-four-seven no longer appealed to you,” I said. “That you wanted to make time for more in your life. Like a relationship, perhaps?”
His mouth opened slightly, but nothing came out.
“Given the old saying, begin as you mean to go on, does disappearing with barely a word for four days sound like a relationship to you?”
“I definitely should have made more of an effort to stay in contact with you.” He licked his lips. “It was an error. I can see that now.”
“And the next time there’s an emergency situation?”
“I’ll call?”
“Not good enough,” I said, turning away.
“Love…”
“If you want me to be all in on this, then you need to make an effort to be there. Things will always come up, needing your attention. I get that.” I attempted to smooth down Gibby’s hair a little. It didn’t work, but it was quite calming. “But you can’t talk marriage and children to me, even jokingly, and then disappear for days.”
“I wasn’t joking,” said Sam, voice low and serious.
“Marriage and children?” The whites of David’s eyes seemed huge. “Really?”
Sam made a noise in his throat. “Yes, Dave. I love her. Is that a problem?”
Holy shit. I just kind of froze.
“No. Just a…no,” said David. “You two? Right. Um, none of my business. Sorry, I—”
“Stop speaking now, man,” wisely suggested Mal.
“Yep.”
Hands cupping my face, Sam frowned. “Love, I’m sorry. You’re right, I messed this up and I did want to slow down on the working around the clock and having no life. So you’re in charge, you tell me how to fix it and I will.”
“Marty’s in charge?” asked Mal, tone somewhat astounded. “Seriously, man?”
“Shh,” whisper-hissed Lena.
I did my best to ignore them all while Sam stood in front of me, waiting. Because I was in charge. At least right now. This required some thought. “I don’t want to run your life, but I do want to be a part of it. I know that much. I also know that if you keep doing the same job you’re doing now, at the rate you’re doing it, this is going to keep happening.”
He nodded. “You want me to consider retiring?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head slightly. “You’re like me, I think. Without something to keep your brain occupied you’d slowly go insane.”
“Probably.”
“Definitely.”
“What then?” he asked. “Time to consider a change of vocation?”
“But you’re good at this and you enjoy it. Hell, you’re the best.”
“Hell,” repeated Gibby, still clinging to my leg.
“So, my thought is, what if you went into business for yourself?” I asked, turning the problem over inside my head. “What if instead of being the guy standing out on the driveway at all hours, you were the person in the office managing everything and only on site some of the time?”
Speculation filled Sam’s gaze. “You know…that’s not a bad idea.”
I smiled.
“I could start my own security business.” He placed a sweet kiss upon my lips. “This is why you’re in charge, love. Brains and beauty, they’re a lethal mix.”
Mal cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt, but…you’d still work for us right, Sam, man?”
“I’d work with you, Malcolm, as a contractor. And charge you a very generous rate.”
“A reasonable rate,” I corrected. “Let’s not go overboard.”
“Huh,” said the drummer. “Okay then. Carry on.”
“When you’re not busy with Adam, perhaps you could help me?” asked Sam. “Setting things up is going to be quite involved.”
“Really? You want me to be involved?”
“Absolutely.”
I grinned. “I’d be delighted to.”
“No more disappearing, I promise,” he said, kissing me again. Deeper and more thoroughly this time. Yet without squishing the small child still attached to me. He kissed me like he’d missed me even more than I’d missed him. Because of course I had. Dammit. Maybe things would be okay after all.
When we finally came up for air, I still had the grin on my face. “You said you loved me.”
“Why else would I call you love, hmm?” He smiled back. “You’re not even freaking out about it, quite surprisingly.”
I shrugged. “Eh. With all that time to think things through, I realized I wouldn’t have been half as mad about you going MIA unless there was actually something meaningful going on between us.”
“Why, that’s very brave of you, love.”
“Thanks. I thought so.”
EPILOGUE
“We’re late,” I panted, bent over my office desk. “Hurry up.”
“You were late. I just came to get you. Then I saw how you were dressed.”
Sam did some swivel type motion with his hips and holy shit. I saw stars. Sparkling, swirling big-ass stars. With my dress hitched up around my waist, his cock resumed pounding into me, driving me out of my everloving mind. My insides tightened, legs trembling.
“That’s it, love,” he ground out. “Nearly there.”