Too Sweet: Hayes Brothers Book 3

MINE.

Fucking mine.

Mine to hold, kiss, and take care of.

Finally.

As soon as we arrive at the Country Club, Mia rushes off to find my mother and get ready for her performance, and I’m intercepted by a concerned Theo.

“You doing okay? You need a drink, bro?” He grabs my arm, steering me toward the garden. “Some Xanax? Or better yet, how about a joint?”

“I see you had one.” I frown when he shoves me through the door. “What the hell is going on?”

He takes a deep breath, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. “I know you won’t smoke a joint, so at least take this. I’ll get you all the vodka you’ll need.”

“You do remember I know Kaya’s here, right?”

The patio slides left, and the triplets pour out wearing matching scowls that look dangerously similar to the one Theo had on a moment ago. They’re a breed of their own with curly hair, long noses, and bushy eyebrows, but it’s scary how one facial expression almost morphs them into Theo, Logan, me, or Shawn.

Cody shoves a glass of neat bourbon into my hand, patting my back. “You good? You gonna be the bigger man here?”

“I’m fine.”

Just as I say it, I realize, again, that the triplets just walked through the door, and everyone I trust stands around me, waiting to see what I’ll do next.

And Mia’s not here.

She’s in the venue, unattended.

I flick the cigarette to the floor, my muscles bunched when I turn to get inside. Both Colt and Conor grab my arms, halting me in place.

“Whoa, hold your horses, bro,” Conor chirps. “Relax. Calm down. Don’t go throwing a big-boy tantrum in there. It won’t do you any good. Fuck that bitch. And fuck that asshole too. It’s in the past. Big breaths, come on.”

He sure gets his theatrics from Theo.

“I won’t make a scene if they stay away from Mia,” I say, shaking them off.

The last thing I expect is a supersized grin splitting Cody’s face. “I never thought I’d be happy my brother stole my girlfriend.”

“She wasn’t yours,” I snap, but I’m calmer knowing he doesn’t mind. What’s more, he seems pleased.

“Yeah, I know. She’s yours now. Just remember. Don’t mess her about. She’s a good girl.”

Yeah, she is. Too good for me.

I shake off that thought before it takes root, forcing me to question this entire thing. Mia would probably be better off with someone without my baggage, someone who doesn’t go batshit crazy with jealousy, someone who doesn’t have to fight his instincts daily to keep his protectiveness in check.

That guy? Whoever he is, is a better fit for Mia, but the only way he’ll get anywhere near her is if he risks a one-on-one with me. The track record of fights I won versus fights I lost in my life is not in that guy’s favor.

I can’t remember exactly how many fights I won, but those I lost are easy to count. There were none. Whoever tries to steal Mia from me doesn’t stand a chance.

Jesus, this is insane.

It seems all I’ve done the past two months is bottle my ever-growing feelings, and an hour ago, when Mia said she’s mine, the corks went flying.

No way I can bottle them again. Cap whatever’s left to stop it all spilling? Maybe. Hopefully, or she’ll run away screaming before the evening ends.

“We’ll keep an eye on Mia,” Colt assures. He motions for Cody to get going, then turns to Theo. “You’re babysitting Nico tonight. Make sure he doesn’t kill Jared, alright?”

I scoff. “You’ll end the night with a few hundred bucks in your pocket if you bet the right number of teeth I knock out of Jared’s mouth. My money’s on two with one blast.”

Theo barks a burst of nervous laughter. “Two? I was at the club when you knocked out three and dislocated that guy’s jaw when he spilled a drink on Kaya. Have you lost the steam, bro?” He squeezes my bicep. “I think you can do better. Three. And I bet a grand.”

It’s stupid, fucking childish, but it helps reduce the tension, so neither of us stops. Colt’s the brightest of the triplets, so it’s not surprising he catches onto the idiotic idea of betting against Jared’s teeth and bones to distract me.

“Fifteen hundred on a broken nose.”

“I’ll take that,” Conor says. “No way he can break Jared’s nose in one hit. He always aims for the jaw first.”

Challenge fucking accepted.

They keep placing bets, bickering about my punch-throwing skills. I’ve no idea who’s keeping track, but someone should, or they’ll be sorely disappointed when they can’t remember who bet what if shit hits the fan.

We get back inside, and I scan the Ballroom, searching for a pink dress and a head of blond hair.

There she is.

Right where she belongs, getting comfortable on the stool in front of the 1904 Steinway, little fists pumping while my mother bends down beside her, talking through a smile.

A moment later, Mia turns in her seat, looking around the room, determination lighting up her pretty face when her eyes find me. She bends her index finger in a come here motion.

Either she wants a drink, or she’s nervous and wants me to talk my mother out of making her play. Whatever she needs, she doesn’t need to ask twice.

I cross the room with Theo hot on my tail until he realizes where I’m going and backs off. Mom raises a curious eyebrow, stopping mid-sentence when I reach the stage and bend over Mia’s shoulder, my ear to her mouth, expecting a whisper.

Instead, she unclasps her necklace, dangling the feather between us. “You can say no.”

Like hell I will. There’s not one thing I wouldn’t do for her. I grab the necklace, fasten it behind my neck, and tuck the feather under my shirt. “What’s the wish?”

“Play with me.” She pats the stool, scooting to the edge to make more room. “Please.”

I did not expect that.

My mother’s gaze burns the back of my head when I cave. “I can’t promise I’ll keep up with you.” I take a seat beside her. “Ten years’ worth of rust on these fingers.”

“It’s like riding a bike. You don’t forget. I know you play by ear, so hopefully, the nine times you heard this song on our way here is enough.”

Now I know why she kept pressing replay.

“Clever girl.” I lean over, pressing my lips to her temple. She’s going to own my ass real soon. “You start. I’ll join.”

She places her hands on the keys, and the room falls silent with the first note of “Feeling Love” by Kim Ven and Lamalo. Her eyes are glued to my fingers when I join in. It’s an unusual combination—tattoos and something as sophisticated as a grand piano, but I’ve caught Mia staring at my ink enough times to know she’s in awe of it.

Ten seconds later, I’m the one not looking at the keys when she starts singing, her delicate voice sending my mind into that calm, trance-like state.

Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but I hope she chose this song because it fits us so fucking perfectly.

My fingers skim the keys in sync with Mia until the room erupts with applause over the last lingering note.

“Thank you,” she says as I wrap my arm around her, pulling her in. “Your mom will love me now.”

“You’re trying to get into her good graces now that you’re dating her favorite son?”

“You’re hardly her favorite, but with my help… who knows?”

The clapping dies down as we get up, and my mother is right there, blocking our way. “You’re amazing, sweetheart,” she chirps, pulling my girl into a hug. “And you…” She wipes her teary eyes, beaming at me. “I’m so glad I got to hear you play. Thank you. You must have magic powers, Mia. I’ve been begging him to play for ten years.”

“I can be quite convincing.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Mom hooks their elbows together, leading Mia away.

Before I take one step after them, Theo appears on my left, using his body as a shield that blocks my view of Jared and Kaya sitting at a table nearby.

“We’ll end up slow dancing until the morning if you don’t give me room to breathe,” I say. “Relax. I won’t go throwing punches for no reason. We both know I should thank the fucker for taking Kaya off my hands.”

“True that.” He motions his chin at Mom and Mia, chatting by our table. “You’ve been dating this chick for five minutes, and she’s already Mom’s favorite. Fucking figures.”

“They’ve known each other for a while,” I say, crossing the room. “Mia being mine isn’t a factor.”

“Bullshit,” he mutters quietly as he takes his seat. “You’ve always had it easy.”

I grip the back of Mia’s chair and lean down to kiss her head. “You want wine or a spritzer?” I bite my cheek, trying not to laugh at my mother’s gleeful expression.

She’s basically swooning.

“Spritzer, please.”

That’s all the conversation we have for the next hour and a half while the guests take turns on the stage, boasting about their contributions.

Theo breathes down my neck when Kaya gets up there, pretending to care about the abused, battered women her donation will help.

It’s a tax write-off for her, nothing else.

She hasn’t changed much. Same dark brown hair, perfect makeup, and bright-red lips that used to summon my attention. Same thin figure, her tight dress hugging a clearly defined ribcage, and the same vile, toxic interior.

I glance between her and Mia, wondering what I saw in that woman. Although it’d be better to wonder what I see in Mia. She’s the odd one out in the long line-up of women I looked at twice. Yet in some twisted way, seeing her earlier dressed and done up like every woman I ever fucked had my insides wringing with disappointment.

Kaya raises the champagne flute higher, zeroing in on me. She stumbles over her words when I purposely kiss Mia’s head but recovers quickly, reciting the rest of her cheap speech.

All the while, I’m willing the time away so I can take Mia home. We’re both seemingly listening to the speeches, but I catch her watching me as often as she does me.

I’m itching. Impatient. I want to be alone with her.

Thirty more minutes and the waitresses clear the tables. Cody’s back to his usual flirty self now that he’s not pretending he’s into the girl he considers his little sister.

One of the waitresses leans over the table to grab my plate. Cody grazes his fingers over the back of her knee, making her squirm, the plates clattering in her hands. She sends him a warning glare. He ignores it, yanking her arm and pulling her closer to whisper in her ear.

Not even ten minutes later, he excuses himself from the table with a self-indulgent smirk.