by Taryn Quinn
Which reminded me of when Sage had dressed as Lola, the showgirl from the Manilow song for Halloween, and I’d made fun of her mercilessly.
Ah, the memories. I wondered if she still had that costume. I bet we could find some creative uses for it that didn’t involve trick-or-treating.
I gave her five more minutes to soak. Then I knocked on the door and stepped inside. She was standing in front of the mirror, drying her belly with the towel.
Without thinking, I dropped to my knees in front of her and pressed a kiss to her stomach, closing my eyes as the baby kicked against my cheek.
My heart kicked too, one rough, hard jolt.
“She knows her daddy’s touch,” Sage murmured, stroking my hair. Soothing me without words.
We didn’t need them.
I kissed her belly again in the same spot and fumbled for Sage’s hand, bringing it against my other cheek.
“Our entire life started in this hotel suite.”
“Nah,” she said after a moment, still running her fingers through my hair. “We started long before here. This was just the climax, so to speak.”
I didn’t laugh. “I want to marry you. Today. Not for propriety’s sake. Not for anyone’s sake but ours.” I tipped back my head and met her shocked eyes. “Every moment you’re not my wife feels wrong. As if a piece of me is missing.”
“But—” Then she stopped and shook her head. “Okay. Yes. Let’s. Where can we do it?”
I stood and gave her a quick, hard kiss, gripping her hand securely in mine. “Leave it all to me.”
I was dressed like the princess Oliver always called me.
He’d bought the dress I’d earmarked in a magazine, getting it in a pale pink that made my skin and eyes look vibrant—a minor feat this late in my pregnancy. The sweetheart neckline did wonders for my cleavage, the empire waist draped perfectly over my belly, and the soft material swished around my ankles as I walked. He’d even selected sparkly silver, chunky-heeled shoes to go with it. Regular heels would’ve been better, but neither of us wanted to take the chance of me falling. Grace was not my middle name.
It was Susie for my great-aunt, but who was keeping track?
I couldn’t believe all the trouble he’d gone to. Sure, some part of me was like, hey, you’re only getting one wedding, shouldn’t you have more agency? And um, hi, didn’t he do crap like this before?
No, and no. He chose the dress I loved, and he made my dream happen for me. He admitted he was more than a little concerned I would dump him in front of all our friends and family, but he’d done this because he wanted to be married to me now.
In front of our friends and family.
By Elvis. The guy he couldn’t stand.
Yeah, I had no complaints. As soon as he could walk without a limp, he was getting nailed again. Which was entirely for his benefit.
Ah, hell, I couldn’t lie on my wedding day.
Hi, my name is Sage, and I love sex. News at eleven.
“You’re sure I look okay?” I tugged at the side of the dress as we walked toward the Elvis chapel holding hands. So much different than the last time we’d visited it.
He kissed my knuckles. “You look magnificent.”
“I’m not fishing for compliments. I just feel very large. Not in a bad way, because baby girl needs room. But you know, when everyone is looking at me—”
He stopped us a few feet away from the entrance to Hunk O’ Burning Love. “Every single man who sees you is going to wish you were his. Every woman is going to envy your beauty.”
My throat grew tight and hot. “It’s like you’re trying to get me to marry you or something.”
He chuckled and dipped his forehead against mine. “Let’s just say I’m looking forward to the honeymoon.”
All at once, I realized how awkward this must be for him. He really hated stuff like this. Anything embarrassing or showy.
Then again, I had a tendency to be both of those things, often inadvertently. And he still loved me. I didn’t doubt that anymore. Every time he touched me, it was obvious. Just as it was clear he adored our little girl.
I was so very lucky.
“We can do this again at home. Have a nice, regular ceremony, very normal. In a church even if you want. Assuming they don’t cast me out with brimstone because I’m way pregnant.”
He laughed and gripped my hand that much harder. “Are you kidding me? I’ll skip that circus. This one suits me just fine.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want your wedding to be the stuff of nightmares for you. Since you’re not divorcing me ever or I will probably kill you.” He laughed, but I did not. “I’m not even joking, Hamilton. You’ll be dead as a doornail. Ally will help me bury your body. We already discussed it.”
“There’s a cheery thought. Remind me to scale back her Christmas gift this year.” He grinned. “We aren’t getting divorced. Ever. Okay?”
“Do you promise?”
Yes, I needed extra reassurance. I blamed that on pregnancy too. It would suck when I couldn’t use gestating a human as an excuse anymore.
Maybe Oliver’s idea of keeping me pregnant had a bright side. If one forgot about swelling, fatigue, morning sickness, weight gain, and hemorrhoids.
Yeah, not going there. There had been enough bathroom-related talk for one day already.
“Cross my heart. Now let’s go.” Oliver gave me a quick kiss and tugged on my hand. “Fake Elvis is waiting.”
Taking a deep breath, I nodded. And together, we walked into chaos.
Within a matter of moments, I’d been hugged and oohed and aahed over by my parents, Seth and Ally, Oliver’s father, Jean from the diner, Dare, Moose, Kelsey, and even Rob from the plane, who seemed unsurprised Oliver had knocked me up the very same weekend he’d met us. Probably because I’d crawled all over Oliver on the plane out of fear.
And smell lust. And just general lust, though that had taken at least a few hours.
Hey, a girl had her standards.
Laurie was zooming around like a kid on sugar, and baby Alexander was happily asleep where he was strapped to Ally’s chest. The only one who looked put out was fake Elvis, who was not pleased with all the delays, since they had a full slate of marriages on the docket.
On the other hand, the blue-haired receptionist seemed positively sunny. She’d taken one look at my belly and one look at Oliver and remarked that “the King doesn’t judge.”
Thank heavens for that.
Then it was time for the last few preparations. Ally offered me a pair of pearl earrings as my something borrowed, Oliver’s father presented to me the prettiest rose gold bracelet as my something new, my mom offered me Dad’s handkerchief to tuck in my bra as my something old—because c’mon, I was so going to cry—and Kelsey came through with something blue.
“I found the perfect thing!” she exclaimed, whipping out a royal-blue belt-slash-sash that proclaimed, “made in Vegas,” which she wrapped around my basketball-sized belly.
Everyone laughed at that, even Oliver.
“Look at nuts lady, coming through in the clutch,” Dare said with a smirk.
Kelsey turned a few shades of pink. “Offer a guy nuts one time and he never lets you forget it,” she whispered as she adjusted my sash.
“Probably because he wants you to play with his nuts.”
“You think? He is super-hot.”
“He is. And single.”
Oliver cleared his throat. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you say another man was super-hot right before you’re about to marry me, princess.”
Seth adjusted his bowtie. “It’s okay, Sage. Everyone knows I’m the better-looking twin. The truth shall set you free.”
“Shut up and get into position,” Oliver said to Seth. “The ceremony is about to start.”
“Ah, the rudeness of a nervous husband-to-be. A flustered Oliver is the most entertaining kind of Oliver.” Seth was positively gloating. “This may be the best day ever.”
Ally elbowed him. “Um, excuse me?”
“After our wedding and the births of our babies, of course, Ally Cat.”
“Uh-huh.”
Oliver stroked a hand down my hair, settling my nerves as he always did with that single gesture. “See you in, oh, two minutes. Love you.”
I leaned up for a quick kiss. “Love you more. Also, you’re totally the hotter twin.”
“There was never any doubt.” He gave me a light shove up the red-carpeted aisle to where I was supposed to wait with my parents for the wedding march to begin.
Unconventional? Yeah, that was us. And I couldn’t have been happier.
I swallowed hard and fumbled for my mother’s and father’s hands as the telltale strains of “The Wonder of You” played in the background, our requested wedding song.
“This is it,” I mumbled to no one in particular.
My mom dashed away a tear. “You ready, sweet pea?”
Tears, who me? Nah, this was the most wonderful day of my life.
“I sure am.” I grinned at Oliver waiting for me at the other end of the aisle. “Let the shenanigans begin.”
Thanks for reading To Have and To Claim. Dare is good with his hands, but he’ll have them full with sassy schoolteachers, Kelsey. Especially when a pizza delivery results in…a baby?!? One-click WHO’s THE DADDY now.
When Dare delivered a sausage pizza, I never knew I’d get such…personal service.
As for the sausage, let’s just say our night was extra spicy.
With Dare though, it’s complicated.
Number one reason why? I’m his young son’s teacher.
A fact neither of us knows until I practically toss my cookies at Dare’s absurdly large feet.
I must have the stomach flu. Right?
Oh so wrong.
Naturally, my being knocked up without a husband is kind of an issue since I teach at a Catholic school.
Whoops.
Then Dare announces that we should get married.
As soon as possible.
And he wants me to be his wife in all ways…
Author’s note: Who’s The Daddy is a romantic comedy with no cheating, no cliffhanger, and a HEA ending.
One-click WHO’s THE DADDY now!
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Now…turn the page for a special sneak peek of
WHO’s THE DADDY!
Who’s The Daddy
I faced the chaos in front of me and propped my hands on my hips.
What had I done?
Oh, right. I had declared to the universe that I deserved the perfect new home. And somehow I’d gotten one.
Well, I’d gotten this.
I’d driven up Main Street in Crescent Cove with Oblivion playing on satellite radio and my hair blowing in the breeze, determination oozing from my pores. Every building with a “for rent” sign was out of my price range. I didn’t have a roommate, and a lot of the places had views of Crescent Lake, which drove up their asking prices.
Also, I was still paying the last month’s rent on my other apartment. Because, sure, a kindergarten teacher could totally pay rent on two places at once. That was completely feasible.
I could’ve asked my parents for help. A short-term loan. Money for a lobotomy. Whichever. But I wasn’t going to do that, because I’d rather be tight for a bit than lean on my already plenty generous parents.
My little sister, Rylee, was the one who needed loans and emotional support and all that jazz. I was the responsible older daughter who tried to hide her moments of irresponsibility and didn’t have that many to start with.
Socially awkward might have been the title of my theme song. But the reality of my world wasn’t nearly so zany.
Would you like to read more?
One-click WHO’s THE DADDY.
Taryn Quinn
Dirty Dilfs
Have My Baby
Claim My Baby
Who’s The Daddy
Pit Stop: Baby
Baby Daddy Wanted
Rockstar Baby
Afternoon Delight Series
Deuces Wild Series
Filthy Series
More The Merrier Series
Wilder Rock Series
Quinn and Elliott
Lost in Oblivion Series
Winchester Falls Trilogy
Found in Oblivion Series
Hammered Series
Rock Revenge Trilogy
Made in Oblivion Series
The Boss
Tapped Out
Boys of Fall
Love Required
About Taryn Quinn
USA Today bestselling author, Taryn Quinn, is the redheaded stepchild of bestselling authors Taryn Elliott & Cari Quinn. We've been writing together for a lifetime—wait, no it's really been only a handful of years, but we have a lot of fun. Sometimes we write stories that don't quite fit into our regular catalog.
Do you like shorter and dirtier reads?
* Ultra sexy—check.
* Quirky characters—check.
* Sweet–usually mixed in with the sexy...so, yeah—check.
* RomCom—check.
* Dark and twisted—check.
A little something for everyone.
So, c'mon in. Light some candles, pour a glass of wine...maybe even put on some sexy music.
For more information about us…
tarynquinn.com
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