His head raises and passion-glazed eyes meet mine. “I don’t want to do anything but kiss you tonight.”
“What are you talking about?” I yell with frustration.
He cups my cheek. “I don’t want you to think our relationship hinges on having sex.”
“I don’t think that. But how we move forward does hinge on having sex tonight. I’ve missed you so much.”
He grins. “Okay.”
Our clothes seem to melt away, and we both release a raw gasp as our bodies come together for the first time in weeks. I clutch on to his shoulders as he rocks slowly in and out of me, painting my neck with soft, sweeping kisses.
“I love you, Clover,” he husks, hovering over me.
Burying my fingers in his hair, I pull him down. “I love you, Marshall,” I whisper as our lips meet.
He continues making love to me long into the night, and just before I fall asleep, he gives me the kiss of a lifetime.
Two months later
“Happy Thanksgiving,” Marshall calls out as we enter his uncle Rex’s house.
A chorus of hellos goes up and we’re surrounded within seconds and exchanging hugs with everyone. I’ve always loved the Winters family. I practically feel like a member since I grew up spending so much time with them. Everyone is so warm and welcoming, I can see why Marshall and Maddie are such solid people.
“I can’t believe you haven’t strangled Marshall yet,” Ruby, his teenage cousin, tells me.
“He hasn’t given me a reason to yet. I think he’s been on his best behavior.” I wink at Marshall since he’s sitting with us and able to hear everything we say.
“Ruby, you wound me.” Marshall clutches his chest. “I thought I was your favorite cousin.”
“No way. My favorite is Maddie.”
I laugh and high five Ruby. “I agree, Maddie is pretty awesome.”
“I love you too, Ruby,” Maddie says, bouncing the leg she has slung over the arm of the leather chair.
“She’s so lucky. She gets to have Shaw as her boyfriend. He’s so hot,” Ruby whispers, fanning her face and pretending Maddie can’t hear
“I agree. He is damn hot,” Marshall deadpans.
Shaw appears next to the couch. “Did I hear you say I’m hot?” He looks at Marshall.
“You did.” Marshall nods.
“Thanks, man. I didn’t think you’d noticed.” He struts back and forth in front of the couch we’re sitting on. Maddie pinches his ass, and when he turns around, he’s smirking. She shakes her head and points at Marshall. He goes along with the charade, shrugging and pretending he couldn’t resist.
“Clover, don’t be jealous. He can’t help himself, and neither can Maddie. It’s the squat routine and my awesome genetics.”
I hold my hands. “How can I compete with that?” I gesture to his ass.
“That’s what I’m saying,” Shaw agrees.
Marshall grabs a pillow from the couch and slams it into Shaw’s face. “I think you’ve said enough.” He whacks him one more time. “Thought I better knock your big head down a size.” We all laugh.
One month later
Opening the door, I shout, “Merry Christmas,” at Marshall before slamming my lips against his. With both his arms full of gifts, he leans down and lets his tongue do all the work. One of the presents hits the front stoop and we part. Eyes meeting, we both smile.
“Merry Christmas, Lucky.”
Bending over, I grab the gift he dropped. “Do you need some help carrying those?”
“No, thanks. It’s like a game of Jenga. If you pull one off, they might all tumble down.”
“Let’s get out of the cold. Oh, and just a heads-up. My parents are always a little extra crazy on Christmas. They’re extremely excited to see you. I can’t be held responsible for what they say. Be warned, anything can come out of their mouths.”
“No worries, Lucky. I’m a big boy. I’ll handle whatever they throw at me.”
I aim a skeptical look at him before I open the door. He trudges inside balancing his Jenga tower of gifts and I’m amazed he only dropped one when we kissed.
He slowly follows me to the living room and I help him set the gifts beneath the tree.
“Is that our Marshall?” I hear my mom call out.
I roll my eyes and whisper, “Our Marshall?”
He shrugs his coat off, slinging it over a chair in the corner and walks toward me. Cupping my face in his palms, he presses a kiss to my lips and one side of his mouth hooks upward. “Now it’s officially Christmas.”
My parents rush in as if he might take off any moment. They take turns hugging him, and my mom does her usual amount of fawning over him. You’d think a celebrity just entered their house. I don’t understand this strange phenomenon that happens every time he steps foot in their home. It’s not like I’ve never had a boyfriend before. Maybe they’re simply two more victims to fall for the undeniable Winters charm.
Dinner is a fancy affair for my mom. Even though our family is tiny, she does everything big. Big tree, big wreaths, big pile of gifts, and a big turkey. I glance at my mom’s curled hair. Even that’s big today.
The meal is delicious for me. Poor Marshall, though. My parents keep peppering him with questions. He’s averaging about one or two bites of food between each question. At this rate, he’ll be the only one still eating at bedtime.
He catches my eye across the table, and I silently convey my apologies for the overload of questions. He winks, letting me know he’s got it handled. I love that about Marshall. I know my parents are a strange breed, and it makes me relieved that he doesn’t seem to mind.
After the longest dinner in history, we move on to opening presents. I never thought we’d get here at the rate we were going.
Marshall offers to pass out presents, probably to avoid having to sit with my parents. He divides the gifts up into piles according to who they’re for and then he begins to hand them out.
The first one I get is a sweater from my parents. The second one I get is from him. It’s a Good Luck Care Bear Chia Pet Four Leaf Clover Planter. That’s a mouthful. I laugh. “This is awesome. I used to love the Care Bear stuff when I was a kid.”
“Now you can love it as an adult,” he tells me.
“I will. How can I not love this adorable guy?” I hold up the box.
We continue opening gifts until the final present is from Marshall to me. I have a feeling he planned it that way. I’m pretty sure I’m in an alternate Clover reality right now because my parents left the room to give us privacy.
What?
They don’t know the meaning of that word. At least they haven’t until this moment. It’s a Christmas miracle, I guess.
Marshall sits down next to me on the couch with a long thin box in his hand. It looks like jewelry. “I saw this, and as cliche as it might seem, I couldn’t resist.” He hands me the box. “I hope you like it.”
“It’s from you, of course I will.” Carefully, I tear the paper free, leaving me with a slim black box. My hands feel unsteady as I open the cover. Nestled on a bed of velvet is a solid gold disc with a four leaf clover on a chain. When I turn it over, my nickname, Lucky, is engraved on the back. “Marshall, it’s beautiful. I love it so much.”
He takes the chain in his hands and hooks it around my neck. It rests on my chest in the perfect spot.
“Thank you. I can’t believe you got this for me.”
“Why are you so surprised?”
“I didn’t take you for the jewelry type,” I explain.
“I’ll tackle purchasing jewelry for you. After all, I plan on you wearing my ring someday.”
“Will you wear a wedding ring when you’re married?” I ask.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Some guys just won’t.”
“I’m not some guy. And when you marry me, I want the biggest, most noticeable wedding band we can find.”
“Why?” I ask.
“So everyone knows I b
elong to you.”
“I know you belong to me and that’s all that matters. Oh, that reminds me. I forgot to give you one of your presents.”
“The cologne and clothes are enough,” he protests.
“It’s something small.” I find the square box tucked between two branches on the Christmas tree. “Here.” I place the box on his outstretched palm.
He rips the paper off and removes the cover, chuckling when he notices what’s inside. He hooks the loop of the keychain on his finger and laughs at the black rectangle with a cutout capital A and a cutout hole. “Asshole.” He smirks.
I shrug, my lips parting in a wide smile. “What can I say, it’s true.”
“I’ll take it.” He cups my chin, leaning in for a kiss. “As long as I’m your only asshole—favorite asshole.” He tips his head to the side, gazing upward thoughtfully. “How about we just keep the asshole where it belongs.” I slap his ass and he raises an eyebrow. “I was thinking on the keychain, but this works too.” He swallows my reply with our next kiss of a lifetime.
* * *
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* * *
Want to start the Boston Terrier Hockey Series from the beginning?
Read on for the first chapter of CHECKED, a surprise pregnancy romance.
They call him ‘Wilde Man’. Rumor has it he’s an animal on the ice and between the sheets.
Like the rest of the female population, I’ve been crushing on Clancy Wilde, the captain of Boston University’s hockey team, since the first time I saw him. Big, blond, and charming, he ticks all the boxes.
When we find ourselves at a wedding, drunk and flirting, I know I can finally check this tattooed, bad boy, hockey player off my wish list.
One night is all it was meant to be, until I see two pink lines on the pregnancy test.
How did the notch on my belt turn into a ball and chain?
* * *
Read on for the first chapter of CHECKED
Available on AMAZON and FREE with Kindle Unlimited
Chapter One
Tenley
August
Leaning back against the bar, I sip my wine and glance around the poolside wedding reception. My friend just married the man of her dreams and I can’t even land a date with a decent guy. Smiling faces surround me while couples dance closely and contentedly in each other’s arms. Romance fills the air and I’m standing here drowning my sorrows, contemplating my love life. Or should I say lack thereof?
I haven’t gone on a date in three months. That’s quite a dry spell for a twenty-one-year-old woman. The guy who took me out must have had a change of heart. He was completely into me for weeks, and in the span of two hours his behavior did a sudden one-eighty. He went from flirting madly to thrusting me in the friend zone so fast I got whiplash. To this day, I still wonder what happened.
Was it something I said? Or something I did?
Fuck me. My thoughts are beginning to sound like a cheesy eighties rock ballad.
Turning around, I set my wine glass down and lean my forearms on the bar while I stare out at the beautiful northern Virginia sunset. Painting the sky with vivid slashes of orange, pink, and gold, it’s breathtaking, making it difficult to feel down when there’s so much beauty surrounding me. And the gentle whisper of the evening breeze wafting over my bare shoulders feels like a reassuring caress.
Relax. Loosen up. That’s what I imagine it’s saying to me.
I don’t want to be a killjoy on this happy occasion. It’s not that I’m jealous when people find their happily ever after, like my friend Jane did. She and her new husband are perfect for each other. The two of them belong together and I want her to have nothing but the best. I just wish I had some viable dating options on the horizon, so I could feel better about my own romantic future. I’d even be satisfied if something would happen to give me hope that I won’t be alone forever.
Send me a sign, universe. I’m ready.
A tan, masculine forearm lands on the bar next to mine.
Damn that was quick. Is this my sign?
My eyes wander along the muscular, veined length, stopping when they reach the neatly rolled up shirtsleeves. Turning my head, my gaze continues the trek up his crisp, white, fitted shirt. Snug around his flexed bicep, I wonder if he has any tattoos under that material?
A broad shoulder caps it off so nicely, I’m afraid to look any higher. Whoever this is standing next to me, there’s no way his face can possibly measure up to the rest of him. Why ruin perfection?
Curiosity wins out, though.
Oh well, here goes nothing.
His thick neck is tanned a golden brown and his sculpted lips are twisted into a derisive smirk telling me he’s aware of my thorough perusal. The higher my eyes climb, the faster my heart gallops.
Oh shit.
I know those lips.
I recognize that sexy smirk.
Please be wrong.
Sweeping my gaze up, I connect with roguish hazel orbs. Fuck me. Of all times for me to be right.
Clancy Wilde, my best friend’s cousin, is next to me in the flesh… in his very sexy, two percent body fat flesh.
I let out a gasp before I can hold the sound in.
He chuckles deeply, making my stomach toss turbulently, like rough water on the high seas.
“Something wrong, Tenley?” he questions knowingly. Fuck me. Unfortunately, he’s aware I’ve always harbored a huge crush on him.
Licking my dry lips, I pray my voice still works. “Not a thing.” I aim a tight, close-lipped smile his way and pluck my wine glass from the bar. Tipping it back, I drink down the remainder in one long gulp. One hand raises signaling for the bartender before the other can place the empty glass down.
He sniggers, as if he knows the reason for my discomfort, and my need for more wine. But is it really a secret? He makes me feel off balance and flushed, unlike my usual confident self.
What girl wouldn’t be uncomfortable in this situation?
It feels so grade school that he knows I think he’s ridiculously hot. But I’m pretty sure every girl in the free world feels that way about him.
“Wine?” he arches a dark blond brow and tips his head toward my glass.
“What about it?”
“I just never imagined you as a wine drinker.”
Turning to face him, I lean my arm on the bar and prop my chin on my palm. “What have you imagined me drinking then?” I can’t wait to hear this one.
“Something with a little more kick, a little more fire. It needs to have a hint of sour and plenty of sweet. Something that mimics your personality.”
He thinks I’m fiery and sweet?
“I’m your cousin’s best friend. You live in Boston and I’m in Washington D.C. We’ve probably seen each other a total of ten times over the years. How strange is it that you think of me at all?”
“Ten times? You’ve been counting, Tenley?”
Fucker.
“You wish,” I sass back. I take another sip of my wine, cooling down the heat that being in his company always brings.
Clancy Wilde is my most-embarrassing secret. A frequent topic in my high school journal, I recorded all the cringe worthy facts about him with my favorite purple pen in looping handwriting and i’s dotted with hearts.
Thank God he’s never read the entries or knows of their existence. I’ve no doubt he’d love to see his name at the top of my ‘wish list’ of guys I’d like to be with. It’s a short list, but he’s still in the top spot.
“Say I’m going to go along with your theory about my drink, what would you suggest?” Gripping the stem, I hold out my empty glass.
His fingers close around the rim, sliding it across the bar while his eyes study me carefully. Raking his teeth over his bottom lip, the action calls my attention to their ful
l shape. He probably did that on purpose.
Returning my focus upward, I catch his amused expression. Yep. He did. The bastard.
“Devil’s Advocate.”
“Is that the name of the drink, or are you playing one?”
He smiles. “That’s the name of the drink. Although, that’s also one of my favorite parts to play.”
Okay, I’ll go along with your game. “What’s in it?”
“Fireball whiskey, spiced rum, apple schnapps, and lemon-lime soda.”
I wrinkle my nose. “That sounds horrible.”
“I figured you wouldn’t try it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” He shrugs. “It’s just that this drink is probably too much for you to handle.”
I rise to my full height and narrow my eyes at him. “I can handle more than you could imagine, buddy.”
He grins and looks at me appraisingly. “Can you now? I’d like to see exactly how much you can handle.”
Wait a minute.
Is he still talking about this drink? Or is he flirting with me?
My stomach tumbles madly at the thought of him being interested in me.
Turning, I raise my hand signaling the bartender once more. He ambles over, but before I can order, Clancy beats me to it.
“Can I get a Devil’s Advocate for her and a Jameson neat for me?”
“Sure thing,” he replies, before moving toward the clean glasses.
“Have you ever tried this drink?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.
“I have, actually. One of my cousins went to bartending school and I helped him out by trying all the drinks he made.”
“I’m sure that was a real hardship for you.” I roll my eyes. What young guy wouldn’t jump at the opportunity for free booze?
HOOKED: Boston Terries Hockey #4 Page 16