Chapter Thirty-Eight
Lowell
He was going to have to talk to Hux and Holland about what to do about Cabot. He’d leave Keaton out of it, and hopefully avoid getting their mother involved. Tamsyn… Yes, she should have some say if she wanted it, but he wasn’t sure she could be objective even though it had been her life his brother had tried to end. She’d probably want to spare the fucker because he was their brother. Clearly not a Foster-Webb.
When he got home—because whatever he’d said, he’d always known that this big, white Greek revival was his home or more importantly that wherever Tamsyn and Hux were was his home—he found the two of them sitting on the couch in the master bedroom, Tamsyn tucked under his brother’s arm.
They both looked up at him, and he’d never felt so exposed. It was like they could see inside him. Past him if they wanted to, but they didn’t. Those two people were relentlessly focused on him and he was swamped with regret for every moment he hadn’t been the same.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left, I’m sorry I hurt you. Both of you. You’re the most devoted and loyal people I know and you deserve so much better than me. I’m sorry for taking you for granted, and I am so deeply, deeply sorry if I ever made either of you feel less than the incredible people you are.”
Tamsyn and Hux also deserved someone who was better at apologizing than he was, but he hoped his uncharacteristic sincerity counted for something.
“I was wrong to leave. The fact is, I do need to have some kind of occupation outside of this.”
He made a gesture to include all three of them and hoped they could understand.
“Part of it is certainly that I love what I do. It’s fun, or like mainlining caffeine. I don’t want to be comfortable all the time. While I definitely get a thrill from being with you two, it’s different from the charge I get from playing political chess. But also…”
He swallowed hard and dug his fingers into his hips, forced himself to look into the eyes of his little girl and his twin, the people he loved most in the world and who loved him back.
“The truth is that I didn’t feel worthy of the two of you. I can’t offer you the same things I offer everyone else and if I can’t do that, then what the hell good can I be?”
“You don’t have to give us anything,” Hux said softly, his thumb stroking the side of Tamsyn’s neck, coasting over where he could still see the ligature mark, while their little girl blinked at him.
“That’s a lie,” she volunteered, and both men choked on air.
He could see the chastisement about to slip out of Hux’s open mouth, but his brother swallowed it when Tamsyn gave him a pouty look. Shit, she must’ve learned that trick from one of the other littles at Hive. Or maybe picked it up from Maddie.
“It’s a lie,” she said with the enunciation of a Broadway star, “because you already do give us things. Maybe you don’t think about it like that, but I do. We do.”
His throat tightened at her insistent words.
“And even if you didn’t, you’d still be worthy. Whatever the heck that means anyway. We love you. Not the strings you can pull or the people you can ruin. I like how your brain works, but I’d still love you if you wanted to lie on the beach all day and never think deep thoughts ever again. The way you dress is super hot but I might even love you if you wore a clown suit. Well, maybe not,” she amended with a mischievous smile.
If that wasn’t an invitation to spank her ass, he didn’t know what was.
Lowell lunged for the couch and Tamsyn squealed as he sat and pulled her over his lap in one smooth motion, then tugged her pajama pants and pull-up over her backside. And then…paused.
He’d let her down, was he still permitted the privilege of baring her skin and bringing his palm down on her oh-so-forgiving flesh? Her body might be resilient and tractable like putty under his hands but her emotions were much more brittle. It seemed too easy to be forgiven so quickly. Especially since they hadn’t heard how he planned to make this work. But perhaps a beginning was enough.
“Please, Lolo,” she begged softly from where she lay prostrate over his thighs. “Please. We’ll figure it out, all that matters is that you’re home. Please.”
His shoulders fell another inch and he smoothed a palm over her luscious cheeks, not nearly marked enough for his tastes. “Okay, princess. You’re okay, we’re going to be okay.”
Air flushed out of her lungs as she sighed happily, and let herself relax completely. Which was his cue to raise his hand and bring it down on her backside again, and again, and again.
* * *
Huxley
Watching Lo spank their little girl was one of his favorite things. Maybe tied for spanking her himself. Who the hell knew why, but watching Tamsyn have her lounge pants and diaper dragged down, and Lo’s broad palm make firm and repeated contact with her bottom until it was turning pink made wires connect in his brain and sent electricity sizzling through his nervous system.
Yes, he enjoyed seeing other people get spanked, and other people do the spanking but when it was Lo doing the spanking it was almost like watching himself in the mirror. Except without the distraction of acting himself. It freed up all his neurons to absorb everything else about the scene. Body language, sounds, the lovely tableau of his gorgeous kitten turned ass up over a lap which was where she belonged. It was perfect.
Some men would’ve been jealous, tried to edge their way into the scene, but there would be time enough for both of them to toy with their precious little girl. He would watch for now, appreciate from a distance, enjoy that the three of them were back together and would be.
Lo had some explaining to do about how things could be okay now when he’d insisted there was no way this could work before, but he trusted his brother down to the marrow of his bones. Their bones, he supposed, since they were the same.