Читать книгу Forever a Stallion - Deborah Mello Fletcher - Страница 13

Chapter 5

Phaedra was only slightly taken aback when the luxury limousine pulled up in front of the Four Seasons Hotel, the driver beckoning for her attention. She was a bit perturbed when there was no sign of Mason Boudreaux, only instructions for her to be delivered to where he was. Granted, she didn’t date often, but when she did she was accustomed to the man actually picking her up. She considered casting one strike against him but hesitated, deciding to at least wait to see where he was waiting for her before she put him on her short list.

When the vehicle pulled into the circular drive of Briscoe Ranch, Phaedra’s stomach suddenly did backflips. She hadn’t anticipated returning to the Stallion family home so soon and definitely not as the guest of a man she’d just met. Nervous tension creased the lines of her forehead. Since the wedding and the close proximity of the brothers, Phaedra had been in turmoil trying to decide if, when and how she might be able to tell them who she was and what she’d recently learned about her paternity.

* * *

As the driver came to a halt in front of the family home, Mason stood at the foot of the stairwell, anxiously awaiting Phaedra’s arrival. He’d tossed and turned most of the night thinking about the beautiful woman who’d captured his attention, and he’d been overly anxious to see Phaedra again. He brushed the driver aside as he leaned to open the limo door.

“Good morning,” Mason said eagerly, reaching for her hand.

“Good morning to you,” Phaedra answered as she stepped out of the vehicle, clasping Mason’s hand for support. She gave him a hesitant smile. “I wasn’t expecting all this,” she said, gesturing at the car, the driver and their surroundings.

Mason laughed warmly, a chuckle rising from deep in his midsection. “Neither was I. But it seems I was expected at the family breakfast this morning and although I tried to get out of it, the family wouldn’t let me. So it just made sense for me to send the car for you to join us while my sister lectured me on what I should and shouldn’t do on our date today.”

Phaedra laughed with him. “Instructions! So you don’t date often, I take it.”

“Apparently, to hear my sister tell it, not the right way!” the man answered as he cupped his hand beneath her elbow and guided her up the deep steps to the front door.

“Are you sure I won’t be intruding?” Phaedra asked, anxiety spinning in the air around her.

Mason shook his head. “Not at all. In fact—” he started just as the front door was thrown open, Marah and Katrina stepping outside to interrupt.

“Good morning!” both women said simultaneously.

“Good morning,” Phaedra answered, her eyes widening.

Katrina leaned to give her a warm hug. “Welcome! I’m Katrina Stallion, Mason’s sister, and I’m so excited to see you. We didn’t get a chance to officially meet yesterday.”

“I’m Phaedra,” she responded, tossing Mason a quick glance.

The man shook his head. “Be careful,” he cautioned, his tone suddenly serious. “If you stand still too long, I’m told, these two will have you married and pregnant before you realize it.”

Katrina rolled her eyes skyward. “Ignore my brother, please. Not that it would hurt him to be married and pregnant,” she said as she cradled her bulging belly. “We’re just excited to see him with a woman our parents would approve of.”

Marah laughed. “And Phaedra’s not running yet, so there’s still hope we haven’t scared her off!” she said teasingly.

Phaedra laughed with them. “I don’t scare that easily,” she quipped as they welcomed her inside the large home.

“That’s good,” Katrina said, “because we enjoy giving Mason a hard time. But really, we’re delighted you could join us for breakfast, although I admit it’s not like we gave you much of a choice.”

Mason shook his head as he instinctively reached for Phaedra’s hand, clasping her fingers between his own. Her comfort level rose exponentially.

“I appreciate you including me,” Phaedra said, squeezing his fingers ever so slightly.

Both Katrina and Marah were grinning broadly as they led the way into the oversize kitchen and family room. There was a crowd of family who greeted them as they made their way inside.

“Let me introduce you to everyone,” Marah said as she pulled Phaedra from Mason’s grasp. “Everyone, this is Mason’s new friend, Phaedra Parrish,” she said. “Phaedra, this is the family.” Marah gestured around the large oak table. “This is my father, Edward Briscoe, and his wife, Juanita. And that handsome guy right there is my husband, John Stallion.”

Phaedra stared as John came to his feet and shook her hand, his smile warm and inviting. Marah continued down the line.

“That woman over there who looks like me, but not as cute, is my twin sister, Marla, her husband, Michael, and that cutie pie in her lap is their son, Michael Jr.”

“Hi,” the toddler said, eagerly waving both hands in Phaedra’s direction.

“Hi,” Phaedra said, grinning brightly as she waved back at him. “Aren’t you an absolute doll!”

The little boy laughed happily.

Marah chuckled softly. “And this is John’s brother Matthew.”

“He’s mine,” Katrina said as she eased her pregnant body into the seat beside her husband, reaching to kiss his lips as she did.

Marah shook her head as she went on. “The big guy holding that baby girl there is Mark, and his daughter’s name is Irene.”

Mark lifted a hand and gave Phaedra a slight wave. “Nice to meet you!”

“And you probably remember Mark’s wife, Michelle, from the wedding yesterday.”

“Everyone calls me Mitch,” Michelle said as she adjusted a spit towel over her husband’s shoulder, moving him to lift their baby to his shoulder to burp the air from her tummy.

“Hi,” Phaedra said softly. “She’s a beautiful baby!”

Mark grinned. “Thank you. Takes after her daddy!” he said with a wink of his eye.

Everyone shook their head. Marah continued down the line. “And of course, you remember the bride and groom from yesterday, Luke and Joanne.”

“Thank you again for everything,” Joanne said as she looped her arm through her new husband’s, leaning her head against his shoulder. “You and Hooper did a great job!”

Phaedra nodded. “Hooper’s a thrill to work with. I’m glad I was available to assist him.”

“Well, he certainly speaks very highly of you,” Luke added. “Your reputation preceded you.”

“Thank you,” Phaedra said.

“And last but definitely not least,” Marah concluded, gesturing toward the end of the table, “this is Vanessa Long, a dear family friend, and her baby boy, Vaughan.”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Vanessa said, her baby boy clutched awkwardly beneath her arm as she maneuvered a plate in one hand and a bottle in the other.

“I declare,” Juanita intoned, moving swiftly to take the baby from Vanessa’s hold. “Girl, you gon’ drop that baby holding him like that!”

The family laughed, heads shaking.

“Y’all gon’ make my boy soft the way you keep coddling him,” Vanessa said. “I need to keep him on his toes. If he bounces once or twice, it’ll toughen him up.”

Juanita gave the woman a swift slap to the back of her head.

“Ouch, Aunt Juanita!” Vanessa yelled. “That hurt.”

“Love tap!” the brothers chorused, everyone breaking out into laughter.

Wide-eyed, Phaedra was suddenly aware of the large hand pressing gently against her lower back, Mason standing comfortably beside her.

“You look overwhelmed!” he said teasingly. “You don’t have any siblings, do you?”

She hesitated, her gaze moving along the row of eyes that were staring back at her. Stammering slightly, she shrugged. “I was raised as an only child,” she said, “so this is very different for me.”

Michelle nodded. “You get used to it,” she said. “I was an only child, too.”

“So was I,” Joanne echoed.

“Please, have a seat,” John said, gesturing toward the two empty place settings across from him and Matthew.

“Thank you,” Phaedra said as Mason guided her to a chair, pulling it out as she took a seat. He dropped into the chair beside her.

“Ignore this bunch,” John said, meeting Phaedra’s gaze. “They always get out of hand at family breakfast.” His smile was warm and welcoming.

“You all do this often?” Phaedra questioned, her curiosity piqued.

“Every Sunday,” John answered. “Once our business went public, Aunt Juanita insisted on it. She felt like we were losing touch with each other.”

“It was the only way to get them to relax over a meal,” Juanita said, still rocking Vanessa’s baby in the cradle of her arms.

“We have two rules for family breakfast,” Marah said. “Everyone must show up unless they’re out of town. And there is no business discussed. Ever.”

“Wow,” Phaedra said, impressed. “And everyone always complies?”

John nodded. “It’s kept us grounded. Spending a few hours together just being brothers with our families has kept us from taking ourselves too seriously.”

“So, where are you from, Phaedra?” Luke asked, resting his chin in his hands as he leaned on the table.

“N’Orleans,” Phaedra answered. She twisted a napkin nervously in her lap.

“So are we!” Katrina said excitedly. “Or at least that’s where our parents are from. Our father was active army, so we were military brats and traveled around, but the older kids, Mason, Donovan, Kendrick and Kamaya, were all born in New Orleans. I was born in Germany but I can’t tell you where the rest of them were born.”

Phaedra glanced toward Mason. “How many brothers and sisters do you have?”

Mason laughed. “There are nine of us.” He cut an eye at his sister. “Our family meals are quite a bit bigger,” he said, his sister nodding her agreement.

Phaedra shook her head and laughed, totally in awe of it all.

Food suddenly appeared out of nowhere, platters of every breakfast item imaginable being passed around the table. Between the food and the fellowship, it was an overabundance of everything. So much so that Phaedra felt as if she were on sensory overload.

She pushed at the eggs on her plate, her stomach still doing flips as she realized she was actually having breakfast with her brothers. Her brothers. John, Matthew, Mark and Luke. The only family she had left. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath and then a second before opening them to find John staring at her curiously. She gave him a slight smile, unnerved by the look he was giving her.

A lanky teenager suddenly entered the room, waving his hand sheepishly at everyone around the table. “Good morning,” he said as he reached for an empty plate. Greetings rang back in his direction.

“Collin Broomes, you’re late,” Katrina chastised, her eyebrows raised as she massaged a hand over her swollen stomach.

“Sorry, Mom,” the man-child named Collin answered. “I was helping them muck the stables. It took longer than I expected.”

“I hope you took a shower,” his mother said, her tone questioning.

Collin rolled his eyes. “Yes, ma’am. That’s why I’m late.” He moved to an empty chair at the kitchen counter, his plate now filled with bacon and toast.

Matthew chuckled. “I wasn’t expecting you to do that before breakfast, son,” he said, pride gleaming from his eyes.

The teen nodded. “I know, sir, but I wanted to get it out of the way so that I could ride after breakfast. If that’s okay?”

“That’s definitely okay,” Matthew said. He nodded in Phaedra’s direction. “Phaedra, this is our son, Collin. Collin, this is Miss Parrish, your uncle Mason’s friend.”

Collin tossed his hand hello, his mouth stuffed with food.

“Please, call me Phaedra,” she said, waving back.

“Nice to meet you, Miss Phaedra,” Collin answered after swallowing. He pointed a finger in Mason’s direction, winked at his uncle and grinned.

Mason shook his head as he cut a quick glance at Phaedra.

“Y’all are funny,” Phaedra said, lifting her eyes to meet his gaze. She laughed, dropping her manicured hand against his thigh as she leaned her shoulder into his. A jolt of electricity shot through his body and he felt himself quiver from the sensation.

Mason was enjoying every ounce of the moment, conversation flowing with ease. Phaedra didn’t seem at all bothered by the family gathering. He understood that this was not at all what she’d been expecting and he was impressed by her sportsmanship, his charming companion seeming very much at ease with their additional breakfast companions.

“So, Phaedra, do you have family in New Orleans?” John suddenly asked.

Phaedra shook her head. “No,” she said, her voice catching deep in her throat.

Mason noticed her discomfort at the question. He intervened on her behalf. “Phaedra’s mother just passed away a few weeks ago,” he said softly.

“Oh, we’re so sorry,” Marah interjected, everyone turning to stare at the young woman.

“We’re very sorry for your loss,” Matthew added.

Phaedra nodded, biting down against her bottom lip. She suddenly missed her mother more than she had imagined possible.

“We lost our parents many years ago,” John said as he reached a large hand across the table to brush his fingers against the back of her hand. “I know it’s not easy.”

Phaedra met his stare, holding it ever so briefly, before she pulled her hand from his, clutching her palms together in her lap. She turned to meet Mason’s intense gaze, then dropped her stare into her lap with her hands. Tears suddenly pressed hot behind her eyelids. She felt her body begin to shake and she was grateful for the chair beneath her bottom, which kept her from falling to the floor. She swiped at her eyes with the backs of her hands, heat rising to her cheeks as she fought to contain the rise of emotion that was threatening to spill out of her.

“What about your father?” Katrina asked softly. “Is he still alive?”

Everyone in the room was suddenly taken aback when Phaedra suddenly began to sob, her body quivering out of control. Concern wafted thickly around the space.

“Phaedra? What’s wrong?” Mason questioned, wrapping an arm around the back of her chair as he leaned in to whisper in her ear. He pressed a napkin to her cheek to stall the flow of saline that rained over her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” Phaedra apologized. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean…” she gasped, trying to catch her breath as the sobs racked her body.

Mason gently caressed her back, his large hands stroking the width of her shoulders. He was without words, not having a clue what he could say to soothe her. His gaze met John’s, the man’s stare acknowledging the same sentiment, both lost when it came to a woman’s tears.

Juanita was suddenly at her side, a box of tissues in hand. The older woman brushed a warm hand against Phaedra’s shoulder. “It’s okay, baby. You cry if you want to,” she said as she lifted Phaedra’s chin with her fingers, brushing the young woman’s tears away. She suddenly hesitated, staring deeply. “I declare, child, you look just like Luke when you cry. He gets the ugly face, too,” she said, shaking her head.

John laughed. “I was just thinking the same thing,” he said, hoping to diffuse the seriousness of the moment. “But your ugly face is definitely prettier than Luke’s is,” he added.

Luke rolled his eyes. “First off, I don’t cry, and when I do, I don’t get the ugly face.”

“Yeah, you do,” Mark chimed in. “And you used to boo-hoo like a baby back in the day. Right up to your sixteenth birthday you’d cry if someone looked at you funny.”

Sixteen years old himself, Collin laughed heartily at the thought.

“That is so not true,” Luke said.

Phaedra suddenly came to her feet, the napkin in her lap dropping to the floor. She turned her attention to Juanita, who was still trying to console her, something in the woman’s stare seeming to acknowledge more than she’d spoken. “Did you by chance know my mother, Miss Juanita? Her name was Arneta Parrish.”

Juanita paused, the name spinning through her thoughts. Her eyes suddenly widened, her body tensing. She took a swift breath. “Your mother was Arneta Parrish?”

Phaedra nodded, her gaze still locked with Juanita’s.

“Why don’t you and I go fix your face?” Juanita said, her hand pressing against Phaedra’s arm. “We can talk where it’s quiet.”

“You know, don’t you?” Phaedra questioned suddenly.

“Know what?” John asked curiously, noting the rise of tension that had suddenly filled the space between the two women.

Both turned to stare in his direction. Juanita’s gaze moved back to Phaedra, her body starting to shake with nervousness. Phaedra was still staring at John, her gaze moving from his face, to Matthew’s, then to Mark and Luke before she locked eyes with him one last time, his stare still questioning.

Phaedra’s next words came like lead weights dropping heavily against a wooden floor. “Your father, James David Stallion, was my father, too.”