23. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

S he fell back to sleep after their sexy morning together.

He wanted nothing more than to stay with her. Than to curl up around her body, kiss her shoulder and doze away until the sun rose and demanded they start the day.

But he had children in the house. And Jagger was kind enough to crash on the couch.

So Bennett needed to get back home.

He carefully peeled his arm out from beneath Justine, redressed and slipped out of the trailer. The morning warble and chirp of energetic birds was the soundtrack to his quick trek across the driveway to his front door.

The girls would probably still be in bed, but he was awake now and had a long to-do list.

Brooke and Clint planned to take all six kids to Humpback Beach, which meant he had all day to work on cabin five with Cameron and Jagger.

He entered the house quietly so as to not wake Jagger, but his phone pinging with a new email ransacked his efforts and Jagger stirred, grunted, and rolled over, opening his eyes, only to fix Bennett with a glare.

"Sorry," he whispered, pulling out his phone.

"You don't look like you went for a run," Jagger said, his voice hoarse and growly like the bear he very much resembled.

"Justine slept through her alarm."

Jagger snorted and a small smile tipped up his lips beneath his lumberjack beard. "So you still got a workout, just a different kind."

Bennett was only half-listening to his brother as he read the email from Tweedle Awful and Tweedle Terrible.

"Fuck!" He shoved his fingers into his hair and tugged until the burn in his scalp eased the gnawing sensation in his gut.

Yawning, Jagger sat up, revealing his ridiculously ripped torso, chest hair, treasure trail and all. Bennett was used to seeing his brother with very little clothes on, but the fact that Jagger was the fittest, biggest, and cockiest of all five of them still grated Bennett from time to time. "What's wrong now?"

"The couple who want to have the wedding here just emailed to ask if we could move the date up?"

Jagger scratched at his chest. "What? To when?"

"Next weekend," Bennett said, collapsing into the chair opposite the couch Jagger sat on.

"Why?"

Hey Bennett,

Just wondering how possible it would be to move the wedding date up to next weekend? I had a dress fitting today and, OMG, the seamstress had to take it out A LOT. Like I don't want to look pregnant in my photos. You know? And I'm worried that she'll have to take it out even more if we wait. Or, the dress won't hide my belly. This already feels like a shot-gun wedding. I don't want the pictures to reflect that even more. So, how soon can we do this? Money is no object, remember? Tad is a neurosurgeon. The best on the West Coast. We can afford the extra fees. I just want my dream wedding before I'm too fat to look good. Please get back to me ASAP. Also, I LOVE the idea of the restaurant taking care of the guest favors. Wicked Sister Confections is my FAVORITE!

Thank you. Kisses.

- Ashli.

Jagger stuck his finger in his open mouth to indicate trying to make himself vomit. "Were you ad-libbing or is she really that shallow? Does she really sound like that?"

"No ad-libbing. That is the email verbatim. I just read it to you. And yeah, maybe I added the Valley girl tone a bit thick. But it's not far off. She's vapid, man."

"So what are you going to do?" Jagger yawned again.

Bennett forwarded the email to all of his brothers. "Well, I'll see what Wyatt and Dom say. If they can pull it off, then we'll work like fucking dogs all week to get cabin five ready, and see if we can get this shitstorm over and done with sooner."

"I'm gonna go home, get in a quick workout. Then I'll meet you and Cam in cabin five around nine, if that works?" Jagger stood up, and stretched which just showcased all his fucking muscles.

Bennett rolled his eyes and shook his head.

Jagger caught it and smirked. "You, too, could have a body like this if you put in the work."

"Fuck off," Bennett said.

Jagger snorted. "All I'm saying is, lifting heavy is how you tone. Not just running. Cardio is important, but so is building muscle. I can order you a tub of creatine when I put in my next supplement order." He made his way to the door.

"I lift weights."

"Not often or heavy enough." Jagger opened the door as pings and vibrations on both their phones echoed around the room. "Sounds like the cavalry is awake and voicing their opinions."

Bennett grumbled and swiped to unlock his phone to read the text messages.

Jagger hung out in the foyer with the door open, his hand on the knob, waiting for Bennett to read the text messages so he didn't have to.

"Wyatt says it'll be tight, but he figures if he puts in the orders for all the food this morning, they will be here by next Saturday. He's going to talk to Willy Reilly about crab, Dorian Jazz about white fish, and Fitz Plamondon about salmon. Hopefully, they can provide catch of the day."

"This chick sounds like a piece of work." Jagger hiked the big sherpa blanket he wrapped around himself like a cocoon, up over his shoulders so it hung like an oversized scarf.

"Just think about the money. That's what I keep telling myself. They're paying for the restoration of cabin five—and then some."

Jagger grunted. "Let me know what you need from me to make it happen."

"Just help with the cabin, and then I'll put you on day-of shit too."

Nodding, Jagger hung his head, scratched his hairy chest, and left, closing the door behind him.

Now, Bennett needed to figure out a way to tell Justine that her two worst nightmares were arriving early to terrorize her and the rest of the island.

If he had to stick his head between her legs before he broke the news, then so be it.

A smile crossed his mouth and he licked his lips, still tasting her.

Yeah, maybe that's exactly how he'd tell her. Mid-orgasm so she was feeling good as he made her feel bad.

"It's not level," Cameron said with a grunt, later that day on Monday. "It needs to be level."

"It's going behind the bed," Jagger argued. "What does it matter if it's level or not? It's the fucking baseboard trim and nobody is going to see it."

"We either do it properly or we don't do it at all," Cameron snapped.

Jagger rolled his eyes. "Fine. How do I pull out the nails?"

"You've gotta pull the trim away first, using a putty knife and a hammer, then a pry bar. Then pull out the nails with linesman pliers—gently, so you don't damage the paint job."

"That's a lot of fucking work for trim nobody will ever see."

Cam didn't say anything. He just leveled his hawk-like amber eyes on Jagger and kept them there until Jagger growled, nodded, and picked up the hammer and putty knife. "Fine."

Cam nodded, then moved over to where Bennett was laying the new laminate in the bathroom across the hall since the old stuff was severely warped from the water. "How's it coming over here?"

"Pretty good, boss," Bennett said. "Just measured it—twice, and I think I'm ready to cut."

"Did you add six inches to your final measurement?" Cam asked.

Bennett's head snapped up from where he'd been sweeping debris from the subfloor. "No. Why?"

Cam exhaled, but he knew Bennett and Jagger weren't professional construction workers, so he stowed his impatience. "You need to add six inches because you want your end trim to be clean. If you cut to size, it won't fit. Trust me. Vinyl also expands, so give yourself extra so you can make a nice clean cut with the hook blade."

Bennett nodded and reached for the tape measure. "Okay. Vinyl's in the living room."

Cam's head bobbed, and he followed Bennett out of the bathroom into the living room, where the vinyl that Cam said was left over from another project and he "donated" to Bennett and his brothers, sat folded up on the kitchen counter.

"There's enough vinyl for the bathroom," Cam said. "But you just need to make sure you don't cut it too short."

Nervous energy coursed through Bennett's body. He didn't want to fuck this up. Yes, in some ways he agreed with Jagger that they just needed to get this cabin done so they could move on, and the bed was going to hide the shoddy baseboards, but he also agreed with Cam. It wouldn't just be Beelzebub and his Lady Un fair staying in cabin five. There would be other less loathed guests in it, eventually. They needed to do a good job the first time.

Cameron left Bennett to remeasure and went to work installing the new lower kitchen cabinets. Luckily, they managed to get the identical Ikea kitchen cabinets as before and they were picked up by a friend on Thursday last week when they made a run to Seattle. The bathroom vanity cabinets were another story, but there were fewer of those to worry about. Bennett just tossed new cabinets into his Ikea cart and figured they'd make them fit.

He already had his spray adhesive, double-sided tape, and two blades in the bathroom. Now he needed to carry in the vinyl. "Cam, you want to give me a hand?"

Cam nodded and set down his screwdriver just as Justine wandered into the cabin. "It's like night and day," she said, her eyes wide with marvel as she took in the hard-core restorations.

Jagger came out of the bedroom. "Well, we need to go hard now that Her Royal Highness, Princess Ashli, and the Grand Duke of Douchebagenshire have upped the wedding date to next weekend."

Bennett's heart momentarily stopped, and he held his breath.

Justine's mouth dropped open.

Jagger gasped. "Oh shit." He turned to Bennett. "You didn't tell her?"

"I was going to. In a much gentler way," Bennett grumbled.

"Crap," Jagger murmured before disappearing back into the bedroom. "Sorry."

"N-next weekend?" Justine stammered.

Bennett sighed and went to her. "I'm sorry. I got the email this morning and I sent it to my brothers. We think we can pull it off. So now we're working like fiends to get this place ready for Friday since they want to stay here the night before, the night of, and three nights after that."

"Ugh. Am I going to have to be in hiding for five days?"

That was the plan all along.

But he didn't feel like now was the right time to remind her of that. He was in soften-the-blow mode. Only the blow had been delivered by his dumb brother, not by Bennett with his mouth on Justine's clit as he'd planned.

Stupid Jagger and his big mouth.

"We'll figure it out," he said, rubbing her back. "And you absolutely do not need to hide from them."

"I know," she groaned. "It's not that I'm afraid of them. It's that I just don't want to be reminded of them. I'm in a good place right now. I'm happy and I don't feel guilty about that." She met his gaze. "I don't want them to harsh my buzz, you know?"

He snorted. "Harsh your buzz?"

"Isn't that what the kids are saying these days?"

"What kids?"

" The kids?" She was smiling again and that was what mattered the most.

"Well, as the serious business owner of the bunch whose primary focus is customer service first and foremost, I will make it my sole mission that nobody "harshes your buzz." That is my solemn vow."

Her lips twitched, attempting another smile. He moved in for a kiss.

When he pulled away, her cheeks were flushed, muting the freckles, and her eyes were full of stars.

"What are you up to for the day?"

She shrugged. "No plans. I was actually thinking I might join Clint, Brooke, and the kids at Humpback Beach. Pick up some pastries from the bakery and surprise them."

"They would love that. Aya was very envious of your date yesterday with Emme."

"Emme needed it though," she said. "I owed her because I bailed Friday. I see a lot of myself in her. The people-pleasing, the unwillingness to take risks or make the wrong decision."

His chest ached for his daughter and how she might be struggling. He hadn't seen any of those things in Emme until he heard her speaking to Justine about how she feels like Bennett and his brothers pile too much responsibility on her. And to hear Justine say that Emme was a people-pleaser and afraid of making the wrong choice, now he could see it all so clearly. She'd always been his easy child. Aya was the feral one who gave very few fucks about anything—a blessing and a curse. But Emme was always so agreeable. She was an easier baby, an easier toddler, and an easier child.

But was she really? Or was she just doing it to please him?

Had he parentified her? Was she growing up faster than she needed to because he treated her more like a nanny and maid than a child?

Guilt ripped raw and acidic through him. But he shoved it down. This wasn't about him. This was about Emme and helping her. He wrapped an arm around Justine and pecked her on the side of the head. "How can I help her?"

"Knowing is a big part of it. Now, you can consciously be aware of the demands you're putting on her and put on less. Gently push her to take more risks—benign ones. Help her see that it's not the end of the world to sometimes make a wrong decision. Shame ran deep inside me. Shame over upsetting my parents. Over making the incorrect choice. I see the same in her. Help remove the shame."

"How'd you overcome it?"

Her laugh was humorless and airy. "I haven't. I still have so much of it. But I'm aware of it and working on it. She's young though, and she has a father who doesn't want her to end up like me. That's a huge proponent to helping her through this."

"If she turned out like you, that wouldn't be so terrible."

"I ended up in the hospital with an ulcer because I couldn't decide on a specialty. Neuro, cardio, or ENT? I was so afraid of making the wrong choice that it made me sick. You don't want her to be like me."

Now he was sad for a whole new reason. He squeezed her tighter. "How'd you finally choose?"

She huffed another humor-free laugh. "Would you believe my roommate and I let her cat decide?"

"What?"

"Bethany had a cat—Caterina Felina—" She paused while he snorted, and she smirked. "And we put three pieces of paper with the specialties written on them in front of the cat and waited for her to touch one. Whichever one she touched first, that was my declared specialty."

"You're kidding! You do not strike me as the type to leave anything up to fate, let alone a cat."

"I couldn't decide. It literally gave me an ulcer. So I had no other choice. I let Caterina Felina decide for me."

"Well, she chose well."

Justine's face said she wasn't sure if she agreed, but he didn't say anything. "I think I will go to the beach. Unless you need a hand here?"

He pecked her on the side of the head again and released her. "We've got it. Jagger's mediocre at best, but he's better than nothing."

"Hey!" Jagger called out from the bedroom. "Fuck you."

Bennett grinned. "Have fun at the beach."

She tossed him a wink and a smile, then headed out.

"Well, she took the news rather well," Cam said, testing out the cabinet door he'd just installed. It swung back and forth beautifully.

Bennett nodded. "She hasn't been here long, but the island is doing her a world of good. She's working on herself and her stress."

Cam's eyes turned sympathetic. "I hope you don't mind that I was eavesdropping a little on what you're going through with Emme."

Bennett shook his head. "No. Not at all. It's all very new to me, and I'm trying not to let the guilt swamp me because it's not about me. I … I hate that I've forced her to grow up faster than she has to. A lot of it is because she is the oldest of the kids. And she is responsible, and mature, and a natural-born leader. We can trust her to not get into trouble and to look out for her sister and cousins."

"I get it," Cam said with a nod. "I'm going through some similar stuff with Francesca actually. And I'm in the same boat. I'm a fixer, you know? I see a problem and I try to fix it. But with anxiety … and little girls in particular, it just doesn't work that way. We can help, but we can't fix. "

Bennett wasn't entirely sure of Cameron's story, but he was a Caucasian man raising an Asian daughter. Francesca was in the same class and grade as Talia. She was as sweet as could be, very polite and, according to Talia, ‘crazy-smart'. So Cam was doing something right.

"We adopted Cesca from China when she was an infant," Cam went on. "Then a week later, my wife was in a building when it collapsed because of …" Anger filled his eyes. "Anyway, she didn't make it. So then I was left with this six-month-old little girl and I had no idea what to do. I was fine with being a father. But if Joelle decided she didn't want kids, I was okay with that too. I just wanted her . But she was consumed with becoming a mother. We just couldn't do it naturally. So we got on the adoption list and I'd never seen her happier than when she was with Francesca. Then she died, and I was suddenly responsible for this little life and I was lost. I feel like I've been screwing her up since the day Joelle died. You know?"

Boy, did Bennett understand that. Of course, he loved his daughters, but they were emotional little beasts and Carla had always been so patient with them. She nurtured their feelings and encouraged them to express themselves. No emotion or feeling was too big. She was a passionate Latina, and she said she was raising her daughters to be the same. But when Aya lost her mind over something Bennett considered a small problem, he struggled. He would say to her, "This is a small problem." But that only seemed to make things worse.

"I do a lot of reading on anxiety and kids," Cam went on. "On helping them cope and finding outlets for their emotions and stress. We have a mini-trampoline in our house that Cesca goes and bounces on when she's frustrated. The vestibular movements help with her emotional regulation. I've also learned that what we may think is a "small problem" is in fact a "big problem" to them. We should be grateful that our kids don't actually know what true big problems are."

"Dude, you're like in my head, and in my house," Bennett said with a lighthearted laugh. Cam chuckled too. It did make him feel better to know that he wasn't the only dad going through this. The only parent going through this.

"It's seriously like an epidemic or something." Cam shook his head.

"Oh, great. We just got through a pandemic now we have an epidemic?"

"I mean children around our daughters' ages having anxiety. I'm in all kinds of online groups and forums, and between the ages of seven and ten, so many kids are developing anxiety. It's brutal. COVID-19 fucked with them all in ways we can't even comprehend. The isolation and incessant handwashing, the masks. Kids are riddled with anxiety now."

"Can you email me the stuff you've been reading just so I can do some reading of my own?"

Cam nodded. "Sure thing."

They exchanged small smiles. They were smiles of fellow soldiers. Two men, deep in the trenches of fatherhood to little girls. Emotional little girls with the weight of the patriarchy pressing down on them.

Clearing their throats before things got too sappy and they lost track of time exchanging stories of the woes of fatherhood, Cam helped Bennett carry the vinyl into the bathroom. Then Bennett got to work—with the help of a very informative DIY YouTube video—laying down the vinyl sheet.

The hours ticked by and soon, his belly rumbled.

Jagger ducked out and brought them all back lunch from the kitchen and they sat out on the cabin's porch eating their steak sandwiches.

"What was the bit about the guest favors in that email the Countess of Vapidingham sent you? Are we doing that shit too?" Bennett's youngest brother asked.

Bennett nearly choked on his sandwich.

Cam slapped him on the back a few times while Jagger gave Bennett a curious single dipped eyebrow. "What'd I say?"

Swallowing, then clearing his throat and taking a sip of his cranberry and orange lager, Bennett held up one finger. "It's not the guest favors, it's the fact that you added the word "shit" after."

Cam glanced at Jagger. "I don't get it."

"We are doing the guest favors," Bennett said, his eyes watering a little as he struggled to regain his composure. "But we've opted to be a little cheeky with them."

Both men eyed him suspiciously.

"How so?" Jagger asked slowly.

"There's a chocolatier in Seattle that has a butthole mold. She made butthole shaped chocolates as a form of revenge for her sister's wedding, and we're going to do the same for Ashli and Tad."

Jagger and Cam's eyes bugged out.

"Um, whose butthole exactly?" Cam asked.

Bennett shrugged. "No idea. Some dude in the UK, I think."

"And there's just a mold that looks like what?" Jagger's sandwich hung midair. The cogs spun might fast in his brain, but things still weren't adding up. "Like the mouth of a sandworm or …"

Bennett shrugged again. "I mean, I think we all know what a butthole looks like. So just picture it, but made out of milk chocolate and in a cute little box." He snapped his fingers and yanked his phone out of his pocket. "That reminds me. I need to touch base with the chocolatier." He found the number for Wicked Sister Confections and hit "dial."

"Wicked Sister Confections, Xi speaking. How may I help you?"

"Hi there. My name is Bennett. I own Sound Bites, San Camanez Brewery, and the Madrona Cabins. We're hosting a wedding here and I was in discussion with Lowenna, the owner, about some very specific guest favors. We just chatted yesterday."

"Yes," Xi said, the amusement in her voice heavily restrained. "Lowenna has informed me of the order. Do you wish to make any changes?"

"Um, I'm hoping you can expedite the order actually. The bride and groom have moved up the wedding."

"Oh! Let me see." Paper ruffled and shuffled on Xi's end of the phone. "I have it scheduled for three weeks from now. When were you wanting the chocolates by?"

"They've moved the wedding to next Saturday. Like six days from now. So we'd need the chocolates by then, or sooner. Like Friday."

"Oh! Umm … hang on. Can I put you on hold, please?"

"Sure."

Muzak played over the phone and Bennett took a quick sip of his beer. Jagger and Cam gave him curious looks.

"I'm on hold," he whispered just as the muzak disappeared and Xi returned.

"Hi, are you still there?" she asked.

"I am."

"Great. Yes, we can get that order done for you. It shouldn't be a problem. Are you still wanting the chocolates dropped off at the San Camanez Ferry terminal?"

"Please. There's a system in place for unaccompanied shipments. So they will be well taken care of. Someone will pick them up on this side. Just send me the invoice, and if you have a rush-order fee, I totally understand. I've been reminded many times by the bride that money is no object."

Xi giggled. "Must be nice."

"Right?"

"All right, Bennett. I'll get the invoice and confirmation of the date change emailed to you right away."

"Thank you."

They said their goodbyes and disconnected the call.

Bennett exhaled in relief. "Well, that's done."

"You know, butthole or bunny, as long as it's chocolate—and I mean like good European chocolate—I'd still eat it." Jagger took a bite of his sandwich and nodded confidently.

Cam and Bennett stared at him for a hot minute, unblinking, with furrowed brows and puzzled expressions.

Then they both frowned, nodded in agreement, and dove back into their sandwiches.