by Piper Rayne
She checks her watch and my phone vibrates in my bag with a text message. I’m not answering it. I don’t care who it is.
“How will ever learn to trust a man if you don’t ever try? You seem like a take-charge kind of gal. Similar to me. How can you allow yourself to just remain scared like that?” I open my mouth, but she continues. “Get this, I tell my husband, I don’t do kids. Because I had a mother who was a nightmare. She yelled, she hit, she verbally abused me my entire life. From birth to when I finally cut her out of my life. I don’t want that to trickle down to my kids, so I say I don’t do kids. And my husband humored me. Told me he was good with that decision. Then a couple years go by and my friends start having kids, my sister has one and I see that she’s not like my mom, but still I say I’m a career focused and don’t want them. I continue to lie to myself until my husband sits me down and says, he’s completely fine if we don’t have kids, but he thinks I’m missing out on a huge part of my life just because I’m scared. He promised to hold my hand and tell me if I’m turning into my mother. That he wouldn’t allow me to ever treat our child like that. But he kisses me on the cheek and tells me the decision is mine.”
She slides off the counter, looking at herself in the mirror. Her hands fall to her stomach. “When I stopped to really think about it I realized I wanted something different for myself than what my fear was telling me. Even with the constant sickness, I know I made the right decision. This is what I want. Even if it’s scary and the outcome is uncertain.”
I run my hand down my face. Damn her for making a point.
She squeezes my hand. “The decision is yours. But making a decision based on fear alone usually doesn’t end up being best.”
The bathroom door opens and shuts, and I hear a faint conversation on the other side.
I need to listen to myself. Trust my gut on this one and listen to what I want deep down.
I swivel around and come face to face with Trent. It’s now or never.
9
Sophie
“Are you ghosting me?” he asks with a frown.
I laugh. “We’re standing across from each other.”
His hands fall to my hips and he backs me up to the wall, caging me with his body. It feels way too good to be this near to him. Sara is so right, I have to see this through because I don’t remember ever feeling like this with any man before.
“I’m sorry about earlier. I just don’t like other people to be affected by the stupid shit I do. And if they—” I put my finger to his lips.
“What do you really want to happen between us?”
He’s quiet for longer than I’m comfortable with. Maybe he’s going to tell me he just wants another round in the sack and that’s all. Then I quiet that evil part of myself who never thinks she’s good enough.
“I want you. A chance to explore whatever this is. I like you. When I went home with you last night, I thought you were hot and I’m in LA temporarily, so it’d be easy to never see you again. But then you didn’t know who I was and treated me like I was any other guy. We watched the sunset, and something tugged on my heart that there might just be something here. This morning when I dragged myself out of the bed, and watched you sleeping, I found I didn’t want to leave. I don’t ever really feel that way.”
“Oh.”
His fingers dip up the hem of my blouse, gliding along the bare skin above my waistline causing shivers to scatter up my spine. “But I thought you didn’t do relationships?” His forehead creases.
“I’m reconsidering it.”
He laughs. “Deciding if I’m worth it?”
I bite my lip and nod. He leans forward, biting my lip and pulling it from my teeth. His tongue slides in my mouth and he tastes like mint. A long thumping pulse vibrates when our tongues tangle together in the dance we perfected last night. I moan when he closes the kiss and rests his forehead on mine.
“I’m not going to make this easy on you.” The man deserves fair warning.
“Good thing I like a challenge.”
“I’m serious, Trent. I don’t trust easily. You might find me sneaking into your phone or asking you twenty questions about your day.”
He draws back and cups my cheek, his thumb running along my lips. “If I’m your boyfriend it’s my job to make sure you feel like you can trust me. Make sure I’m reassuring you. I’ll hand over all my passwords and I love games, so twenty questions it is. But…”
Here we go, a stipulation.
“I don’t expect to be spending a lot of time away from you.”
I tilt my head. “How do you figure?”
His fingers glide up my blouse, dangerously close to my breasts. “You don’t like your job, right?”
“And?”
“Well, I’d love for you to go on the road with me.”
A chuckle escapes. “And I do what for money?”
“I just started a surfing magazine and I’m looking for an editor.”
I stare at him and shake my head. He laughs. “What?”
But he doesn’t get to answer because an “ahem” sounds from beside us and I turn my head to find Olive standing there with her arms crossed. “That’s it’s. You’re done.”
Without another word she turns around and stomps down the hall. My gut sinks like an asteroid just hit it.
“I think I’m about to be fired.”
“Great, then I can hire you.”
“Trent?” I ask, my head falling back.
His lips move up my neck and his tongue slides up until his hot breath hits my ear. “Come on. Let’s make love to the sound of the waves crashing all day, every day.”
God, the visual in my mind is tempting as hell. Me and him in some hut with a big canopy bed and white fabric blowing in on the wind as his lips skate along my bare flesh.
Jump I tell myself.
Jump.
My phone vibrates again. It’s probably Henry. “Give me a second.” I search through my bag and I pull it out. Sure enough it’s Henry.
Trent pulls back and looks at me as I click the button to accept the call.
“I quit, Henry.”
Trent smiles and my stomach goes crazy with flutters. I’m definitely making the right decision. For however long I get to live in this dream, I’m going to take it.
I end the call and Trent’s lips smash against mine. Our kiss grows more heated. He closes the kiss, taking my hand. “Let’s get out of here,” he says.
“You have to finish the show,” I say.
“I don’t care.”
“This is the kind of reckless behavior media thrives off of.”
He pulls me into him, and we stumble out of the studio entwined in one another’s arms. “Haven’t you figured it out yet?”
“What’s that?”
“Some things are worth being reckless for.”
I know now that there’s no possibility I’m not going to fall madly in love with this man.
Epilogue
Two years later
The warm breeze lifts the edge of my dress as I sit on the sand watching the sunset. It’s still early and I’m surprised when a big body comes up behind me, sliding my hair over my shoulder for his lips to kiss mine.
“She’s asleep,” he whispers, putting the monitor on the towel next to us.
I lean into him and his arms reach around my middle.
“Tomorrow’s the big day,” I say, my eyes glued to the orange glow of the Hawaiian sky.
Turns out I prefer to live here as well. The people don’t bother us and the few times we were in LA, especially when Trent was on a press circuit after he won the Big Wave Competition last year, we realized how much better we are without the paparazzi in our life.
“I’m ready.”
I turn and he kisses me. “Last one was for you, this one is for us, our family.”
My pregnancy wasn’t exactly planned, and we went through a few hiccups if Trent was ready. But I think I was projecting my own insecurity on him.
When Camari was born nine months ago, it changed our entire dynamic. She’s got my dark hair but Trent’s bright blue eyes. And of course he thinks she’s going to surf before she’s three. Maybe she will. God knows, she loves the water right now. She’s beautiful and already has an amazing personality.
Tomorrow, she’ll watch her daddy surf a competition for the first time. This one is local. For the other ones we stayed behind because she was too young to be outside all day even if we were in the shade.
“I’m so happy you’ll be there,” he says, his mouth continuing to move up my neck, his hands raising my dress up to my waist. “And I’m happy that not a lot of people come down to this part of the beach.” His hand dips between my legs.
“You’re not trying for baby number two are you?”
His chuckle vibrates into my shoulder. “Would that be so bad?”
“Not if you got to carry the next one.”
His fingers slide my wet panties over and dip into my folds. “I would if I could.”
I moan and sink back into his strong body. “Sure you would.”
As for the surfer magazine Trent started and wanted me to be the editor for, it’s doing well, and I enjoy being my own boss. Although I haven’t made it to the New Yorker yet, I’m okay with it because I wouldn’t trade this life we’ve built for a column in the New Yorker anyway.
He manages to get me on my back and situates himself between my legs. “You’re missing the sunset,” I say, pointing behind him.
He scoots up to his knees and I rise up on my elbows. “I found something else to admire at night. Or someone.” He kisses me. “I love you, Sophie. I love our life. I love our daughter. I love the fact that two years ago you trusted me enough to jump into this world you knew nothing about. For that I’ll always be grateful. But I really want you to be Sophie Calder.” He pulls a ring out of the pocket of his shorts and holds it out between us. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” I answer without a moment of hesitation, tears in my eyes. “We’ll discuss the name thing another time.”
He tackles me to the ground, laughing as his lips fall to mine.
Man, I hit the jackpot the night I met my prince charming disguised as a surf bum.
A note from Piper Rayne
Want to read the happily every afters for all of Sophie’s friends? Check out the first book in the Hollywood Hearts series, Mister Mom and get to know Vance and Layla.
Mister Mom
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Also by Piper Rayne
Modern Love Series
Charmed by the Bartender
Hooked by the Boxer
Mad About the Banker
Single Dads Club
Real Deal
Dirty Talker
Sexy Beast
Hollywood Hearts
Mister Mom
Animal Attraction
Domestic Bliss
Bedroom Games
Cold as Ice
On Thin Ice
Break the Ice
Charity Case
Manic Monday
Afternoon Delight
Happy Hour
Blue Collar Brothers
Flirting with Fire
Crushing on the Cop
Engaged to the EMT
The Baileys
Lessons from a One-Night Stand
Advice from a Jilted Bride
Birth of a Baby Daddy
Operation Bailey Wedding
Falling for My Brother’s Best Friend
Demise of a Self-Centered Playboy
Confessions of a Naughty Nanny
Operation Bailey Babies
Secrets of the World’s Worst Matchmaker
Winning my Best Friend’s Girl
Rules for Dating Your Ex
Operation Bailey Birthday
White Collar Brothers
Sexy Filthy Boss
Dirty Flirty Enemy
Wild Steamy Hook-Up
The Rooftop Crew
My Bestie’s Ex
A Royal Mistake
The Rival Roomies
Our Star-Crossed Kiss
The Do-Over
A Co-Worker’s Crush
About Piper Rayne
Piper Rayne is a USA Today Bestselling Author duo who write heartwarming humor with a side of sizzle. We both have Kindles full of one-clickable books. We're both married to husbands who drive us to drink. We're both chauffeurs to our kids. Most of all, we love hot heroes and quirky heroines that make us laugh, and we hope you do, too. You can find out more information and download free bonus scenes at www.PiperRayne.com.
Sweet Girl
M.C. Cerny
Synopsis - Sweet Girl
Evan loves his wife, but she might need a stronger alibi if he accidentally dies from her cooking. He’s decided with the help of his friends to send her to cooking classes, except he didn’t account for the overly friendly chef trying to make a pass at her. What’s a husband to do? Join the class with her? Beat the apprentice chef with a cast iron pan?
Remi is excited to take a cooking class and prepare her first real holiday meal. She can’t wait to learn about cooking from a professional and not have to worry about sending her husband to the ER for food poisoning or the dentist…
The cooking class ends up being a bust, but Evan’s sweet girl has another surprise for him to make the holiday extra special.
copyright @ 2020 by M.C. Cerny
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission except in the case of brief quotations included in critical articles and reviews.
For information, please contact the author.
This a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
1
Evan
“Remi, I’m home!” I pushed the front door open, dropping my duffel bag as I looked for my gorgeous wife. My son, Ethan, wobbled on his chubby legs around the corner. He held tightly to a stuffed police car, giving me a toothy smile. “Where is your momma, little man?” I picked him up, bouncing the happy boy on my hip.
“In the kitchen,” Remi called out and I smelled the air, suspiciously. We were still working on her cooking skills that advanced farther than a hot plate and canned beans. There was a time she’d buy takeout and put it on plates, but I got savvy to the extra-heavy garbage bags and asked our friend Taylor to help her out.
My tongue traced over the repaired cracked molar in the back of my mouth from a disastrous batch of chocolate chip cookies. I did not love that trip to the dentist, but I loved my wife, and for some reason that memory made me grin like an idiot.
Cozying up to my wife, I kissed the back of her head before I nuzzled her neck, letting my free hand roam over her hip and then the flat of her stomach. “What’s cooking?” I asked, doing my best to mask my trepidation of eating. Ethan gurgled in my ear, reminding me I was squishing him between us.
“Don’t sound so worried. I got the recipe from Taylor, and she FaceTimed me during the important stuff.”
The important stuff being not burning the house down.
“Uh huh. So most of it, then.” I smiled from behind.
“Evan Rooney!” she chided.
Backing away, I put Ethan on the floor to play and said diplomatically, “I’m kidding.” I moved in close to embrace her.
“You
are not.” She gently elbowed me in the stomach, and I grunted, stepping back before parrying forward to rub myself against her in a familiar dance between us.
“Mostly.” I snickered.
She pushed me away, waving her large kitchen spoon while her lips twitched in a half smile.
I teased her in the kitchen, which isn’t fair, but I worked a twelve-hour shift and I missed her. I contemplated setting my alarm earlier so I could wake her up and follow up this teasing with some morning shenanigans.
“I’m making beef and broccoli with some rice.”
I reached around Remi, gently snagging the slotted spoon from her fingers to mix up the beef and broccoli. Admittedly, it smelled good, but my dinner anxiety was high from past experience.
“How long until dinner?” I put the spoon down and twirled her away from the stove. We swayed in the kitchen in a slow dance as she rested her head against my chest.
“Maybe fifteen minutes.”
“Ugh, not enough time.”
“Time for? Oh, you naughty man.” She playfully slapped my chest, and I laughed loudly.
“Dadda. Dadda.” My boy was back, trying to mimic our moves unsuccessfully, but it was adorable.
“Yup, definitely not enough time.” I leaned down and picked up Ethan so he could dance with us. “Hey, buddy.” I kissed his head and Remi squeezed us both in a hug.
“My boys.” Remi sighed, an unusual frown on her face.
“What’s up, sweet girl?”