Sully's Fantasy Read online

  “It all worked out in the end,” I said. “You know I didn’t intentionally try to break you guys apart.”

  “You what?” Eleanor asked, her eyebrows flaring high. “They broke up because of a drug you made?”

  “No.” Jethro shook his head. “I take full blame. I sent her away to protect her. My father threatened me, as per usual, and gave me some pills that he said would help. They drowned out every part of me and only left the son my father wanted. It caused struggles between Nila and me.”

  “But I snapped him out of it before it was too late,” Nila said softly. “And he hasn’t taken another drug since.”

  “Which is why you’ll have to let me assess you one day,” I muttered. “So I know how to help other HSPs.”

  “Tell them to fall in love with someone who has their back.” Jethro ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair. “That’s it.” His tension faded as he brought the conversation back around to me and Eleanor instead of himself and Nila. “And don’t think I’m not aware you changed the subject so I wouldn’t give away details of your busy night. Not very guest-like behaviour, Sullivan.” He narrowed his eyes, studying me, then Eleanor. “Bondage? Something to do with tying your wife—”

  “Oh, my God.” Eleanor spluttered. “How on earth could you possibly know that?”

  “Ugh, he’s incorrigible.” Nila rolled her eyes, passing Eleanor a plate of roasted portobello mushrooms. “Ignore him. I do.”

  “You do not. You indulge my every whim. That’s why I’m far too free with my ‘abilities’ these days.”

  “Yes well, Kes is starting to show signs, and if he sees his father acting like some gypsy fortune teller, he’ll believe it’s normal to go around telling people their own thoughts.”

  Jethro shrugged. “I hid my entire life and look how fucked up I was. If he’s like me, then I don’t want him to have to hide. I want him to know he doesn’t have to.”

  Nila sighed, true love shining in her dark gaze. “I agree. It’s just hard to explain when he runs up to the cook and says she’s overweight because she’s still grieving her cat’s death two years ago.”

  Sully cut in. “You’re saying your son has inherited Jethro’s traits?”

  Nila sighed, passing around a dish of wilted spinach in olive oil and sea salt. “I’m not sure. Some days, I swear he’s exactly like Jet. Others, I think it was just a lucky guess. He’s a normal boisterous child, but there is a quiet listener inside him too.”

  Jethro helped himself to buttery baguette. “We’ll deal with it if he is like me. Least Emma is normal.”

  “Normal means nothing these days,” I said, sipping a full-bodied espresso that one of the hall’s staff placed in front of me. “I don’t think there is such a thing as normal. If there is, I haven’t found one in my line of work.”

  “How is work going?” Jethro asked. “Any new breakthroughs in modern medicine?”

  “Always. Whether or not the population is ready to accept it is another question.”

  “How do you sit on drugs you know will work when you can’t get it past all the bureaucratic red tape?” Jethro asked.

  I set my coffee cup down. “I have my ways of trickling it into the marketplace.”

  A squeal sounded, heralding two little cyclones as they dashed into the drawing room. A boy and a girl—perfect replicas of their aristocratic parents. Their outward appearance was finely dressed, but their screams of joy as they played chase around the table hinted they were wild with energy and freedom.

  Growing up in a massive hall like Hawksridge would cultivate fiercely independent and well-rounded offspring.

  Emma crashed into her mother’s side, her mouth open for air as she scrambled onto Nila’s lap, kicking at her brother as he tried to tickle her. “No. Safe. Safe!”

  Kes, the older of the two, cackled and pulled her hair gently. “Nowhere is safe. Cheater!”

  Jethro scooped him round the middle, hauling him onto his own lap. “Say hello to friends of ours. Sullivan and Eleanor.”

  Kes blushed as he caught my stare then Jinx’s. He calmed eerily quickly in his dad’s embrace, almost as if he could sense the crimes I’d done in the past and the type of man I’d been before Eleanor changed me for the better.

  Slowly, he nodded. “Hello.”

  The way he watched with such dedication and knowing hinted he had inherited Jethro’s gift, after all. Only time would tell to what degree.

  “Hello,” I said. “Having fun playing tag?”

  “Not tag.” He shook his head importantly. “Hunting. She’s the hare. I’m the hound.”

  “Hares are faster than hounds.” I smiled.

  Emma clapped her hands. “Yay!”

  “Yeah, but hounds can sniff stuff,” Kes retorted.

  “Hares can box and kick.” I grinned as Jethro’s son chewed his bottom lip, digesting such things.

  “Em won’t kick me hard. She won’t dare.”

  Emma wriggled free of Nila’s hug and bolted out of the drawing room. “Byeeeeee!”

  “Hey!” Kes leaped out of Jethro’s lap and galloped after her, leaving a wake of silence as their heavy footfalls faded down the endless corridors.

  “They’re adorable.” Eleanor smiled. “Do you only have the two?”

  Nila nodded. “Yes. Two is all we can handle. I’m sorry they’re little heathens. I’d hoped the ball last night would’ve tired them out, but they’re bundles of energy. They won’t calm down until we take them for a ride.”

  “You can join us if you want,” Jethro said softly. “I have horses you can borrow.”

  I glanced at Eleanor. Riding a horse to me was not enticing; however, if she wanted to, I would do whatever she requested. Catching my raised eyebrow, she shook her head.

  “I’m happy just watching.” Eleanor nodded. “Thanks, though.”

  “And besides, you have a plane to catch.” Jethro chuckled under his breath. “I’ve been trying to guess where you’re going, but I haven’t been able to pinpoint. Tropical, no doubt. You both detest the cold.”

  “How did you—” Eleanor frowned. “How do you know? How does it work?”

  Nila rolled her eyes again as she stabbed a blood-red strawberry with her fork, waiting for Jethro to enlighten Jinx. “Go on, you might as well spill, now that you’ve made a spectacle of yourself.”

  Jethro chuckled. “You pretend to be pissed at me but you can’t lie that you’re enjoying the openness of this conversation, Needle. That you’re wary of sharing too much but grateful that Sully has been there from the beginning and isn’t going to judge.”

  Nila nodded, leaning over to squeeze Jethro’s hand. “Right as always.”

  Sharing an intimate moment with his wife, Jethro dropped his gaze before sitting back and locking eyes with Eleanor. “In answer to your question, it’s not really something I can explain. I just...know. I look at you, and I feel cold. That isn’t because I’m cold but because I’m guessing you are. I’m sitting in my own home where I’m happy and content, yet, I suddenly have a hankering for travel and turquoise seas. Two things that have never interested me in the slightest. When I was younger, I confused those feelings for my own. I fed on the emotions of cruelty because that was what I was raised in and what I believed came from my own heart. But I can keep the two separate now. I no longer need to numb the feeling of say needing to travel, or to grab another jumper to ward off the chill because that isn’t me. It’s you.” He laughed quietly. “I also feel a thread of exhaustion from whatever indulgences you got up to last night.” Holding up his hand, he added, “Oh, and there’s a vein of embarrassment too, so whatever you got up to, it was frisky enough to make you blush in my company.”

  Eleanor’s cheeks burned. “Your wife is right. You sound like a gypsy fortune teller.”

  “I suppose if my enterprise of diamonds fails, I could earn my keep that way.” Jethro laughed.

  I chuckled, squeezing Eleanor’s knee under the table. “I believe I won our bet,
Jinx.”

  Eleanor narrowed her eyes. “In the words of Kes Hawk...cheater.”

  “I didn’t cheat. I just had insider knowledge.” I chuckled. “But I’m still going to make you pay.”

  Eleanor blushed harder. “I’m not discussing orgasm payments at the breakfast table.”

  Jethro burst into laughter.

  Nila giggled and kindly changed the subject. “Do you have children of your own?”

  Eleanor rubbed at her flaming cheek, grateful for the topic switch. “No. We don’t. And please don’t say the politically correct ‘Oh, I’m sorry’. Don’t be. It’s a personal choice.”

  “A joint decision.” I squeezed Eleanor’s knee again. “We currently have over four hundred rescues under our protection with more arriving every week. That is where our heart lies. With the abused, unwanted, and homeless.”

  “I love that.” Nila smiled. “You get to nurture something that desperately needs it.”

  Eleanor nodded. “Give me any kind of creature, and I have an unbearable need to care and snuggle and protect. But give me a child, and I don’t know what to do with it.” She laughed gently. “I’m not maternal for my own kind.”

  Nila returned Eleanor’s laugh. “I completely understand, especially now that I’m a mother, I can safely say that sometimes I look at wild animals and think they’re so much better behaved than my own offspring. Even though they drive me loopy, I love them with everything that I am.”

  My mind turned inward, recalling the conversation Eleanor and I had shared two years or so into our marriage. I’d never once, in all my years, ever wanted a kid of my own. Why the hell would I want to add to the already overpopulated human race when I couldn’t stand us as a species? My legacy and fortune had already been bequeathed to shelters and my own personal rescue charities, so I didn’t need an heir to inherit.

  It never occurred to me to have the conversation about children with my wife.

  Our world was perfect. Nothing was missing.

  But it’d been Cal who told me I should at least ask Eleanor. That it wasn’t normal for a couple not to discuss the choice to breed or not.

  It’d taken a few nights to get up the courage. What if Eleanor did want kids? Where did that leave us? The thought of putting her at risk with impregnation? Of watching her be in pain? I despised the thought of it. But I’d forced myself to ask on a particularly romantic evening on our deck overlooking Nirvana. A pair of macaws got frisky in a palm tree above our heads, giving me a sign to ask a troubling question.

  I’d turned to Jinx, swallowed back my fear, and asked, “Do you want children, Eleanor?”

  She’d frozen.

  Our ease and drowsiness from a delicious dinner vanished as she bolted off her lounger and paced in front of me. Raking hands through her hair, she’d licked her lips and made me wait for an agonising few minutes.

  I’d tried to read her.

  Tried to figure out what the panic on her face meant. Did she desperately want them and didn’t have the courage to tell me? Did she hate me for not asking sooner—

  “Do you want kids?” she’d fired back, wringing her hands, her grey eyes dark with worry.

  “I asked you first.” I sat up, clasping my hands between my legs as I swung my feet to the deck. “Yes or no?”

  She swallowed hard, forcing herself to be truthful. Her shoulders braced as she blurted, “It goes without saying that I want you to be happy, and if you want kids, then...I suppose we can discuss options like adoption or...I don’t know.” She sucked in a shaky breath. “But if I’m being honest about what I want, I have no interest in children of my own. None. Zip. Never.” She stood trembling, waiting for me to stand and pad barefoot toward her.

  Cupping her cheek, I nuzzled her nose with mine. “Well, thank fuck for that.”

  She almost puddled at my feet in relief. “You’re saying you don’t want them either?”

  “Never in a million years.”

  “So you’re fine, just us?”

  “I’m fine with you.” I kissed her hard. “I’m fine with our rescues and our animals and our family as it stands with Pika, Skittles, Cal, and Jess.” I kissed her deeper. “I’m more than fine. I’m so fucking happy and it’s all because of you. You’re perfect, and I don’t need or want anything else.”

  She kissed me back, shaking as she threw her arms around my shoulders. “I love you, Sully. I love that we’re the same in all the ways that matter. Our animals are our children. Feathered, furred, scaled, and everything in between.”

  That night, we’d had sex that lasted until dawn. Reaffirming our vows. Acknowledging that we had no holes that needed to be filled or regrets we hadn’t discussed.

  We chose to stay committed to us. To our creatures. To our wonderful, idyllic life together.

  If that was selfish, so fucking what? I believed by not having kids, we were helping the world with one less human to house.

  Jethro interrupted my musing with his knowing stare. I sipped from my water glass, glowering back. “Quit reading me.”

  “But you’re so interesting.” He smirked as he chewed on a piece of cooked tomato. “Fascinating really. You’re so unapologetically steadfast.” He put his fork down. “When we first met, you were equally steadfast, just...in a much darker way.”

  “How so?” Eleanor piped up.

  I threw her a look. “He means because of what I used to do.”

  “Before that. Before you started your side business unrelated to pharmaceuticals.”

  I froze. “You knew about that?”

  Jethro shrugged. “I was aware you were doing something illegal, and you didn’t feel bad about it. I don’t know exactly what you were doing, because our talks were always by phone, and I don’t pick up nearly as much just by someone’s voice, but I was aware—almost to the day, in fact, when your thoughts weren’t so...angry. You’d found an outlet toward the hate you felt toward people.”

  Eleanor tensed as I nodded slowly. “You’re right. I did find an outlet by using the rules humans set for animal welfare against them. And you’re also right that it did help the injustice in my mind. But it wasn’t morally acceptable, and Eleanor helped me realise I couldn’t keep exploiting any living creature.”

  Jethro raised his glass in a toast. “To our mutual personal growth thanks to our women.”

  “Here, here.” I clinked my glass with his.

  A companionable silence fell, a welcome reprieve to fill plates with delicious home-cooked fare and to indulge in a nutritious breakfast.

  The Hawk children came dashing back in halfway through our meal. Emma had a dead mouse in her hand, and Kes had a falcon balancing on his forearm with its plumage ruffled and wings spread against the chaos of being tethered to a kid.

  Jethro immediately put his knife and fork down, signalling Kes to bring him the falcon. “Did you go up to the mews without permission, Kes?”

  The boy cringed as he passed his father the bird of prey. “They haven’t flown today. I figured—”

  “You know to wait for me.”

  “I know.” He kicked the carpet. “But you guys are taking so long.”

  Nila patted her mouth with her napkin, standing elegantly from the table. “Seeing as breakfast is interrupted, would you like to see an aerial dance?”

  I pushed aside my plate and stood. I did my best not to focus on the string around the bird’s foot or the fact that it was captive. It might have a good life with the Hawks. It might be fed and kept safe, but at the end of the day, it wasn’t free to fly wherever it wanted.

  It made me want to snatch the bird and cut the tether, but I balled my hands and kept my opinions about animal ownership to myself. I would never consider tying Pika or Skittles down. They spent time with us on their own accord, not because they were forced to.

  “Sounds interesting,” Eleanor said, her eyes also locked on the string around the bird’s leg. “Lead the way.”

  Jethro brushed past me, his eyes on mine, know
ing full well my disapproval as he held the falcon aloft.

  In a neat file, all adults and children followed Jethro from the ancient looming hall into the watery English sunshine. There was no heat in the light. No humidity in the sky.

  My skin prickled for both, and the urge to leave amplified, especially when Eleanor crushed against my side, and murmured, “Is it just me, or is that leash on the raptor driving you nuts?”

  I sucked in a breath. “And that is why I fucking love you, Eleanor Sinclair.” I couldn’t help myself. I had to kiss her, so I did.

  I kissed her in full view of Jethro and Nila Hawk while their two kids squabbled over who would throw the dead mouse.

  At least the mouse was dead.

  I wouldn’t have been able to control myself if it’d been alive and facing torture by being thrown into the talons of a hunter.

  With another guarded look my way, Jethro ordered Emma to throw the mouse as high as she could. At the same time, he swooped his arm up, boosting the falcon with its tawny feathers into the sky.

  The bird screeched and shot after the mouse missile, snatching it from the sky in a blink.

  Nila gathered Emma close, ducking on her haunches to watch the bird sail high and circle the estate. It would’ve been an impressive display if a leash wasn’t trailing after the bird, its shackle ready to bind him back to earth always present.

  “Goddammit.” Jethro huffed beside me. “You’re a real pain in my ass.”

  I stiffened, glancing at my friend. “What? Why am I a—”

  “You know why.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he stomped away. “Nila, I’ll be back. Ten minutes.” Before she agreed, Jethro broke into a run, chewing up the manicured lawn in a hurry, heading toward the stone stables in the distance.

  “What was that about?” Nila asked, leaving Emma to watch the falcon and coming to my side.

  “No idea.” I wrapped my arm around Eleanor. “All I can say is you married a strange man.”

  “Stop.” Eleanor dug her elbow into my side. “Isn’t it obvious?” She huffed as if I was stupid. “You’ve put feelings in his heart...about the bird. I can only guess how much it’s driving you mad...which, in turn, has driven him mad.” She looked at the swirling bird above our heads.