by Annie Dyer
He kissed me again. “Got the rest of our lives to say it.”
That felt good. That felt so damn good.
Three months later
“Just about made it.” I closed the taxi door and walked into my husband’s arms. My husband who was looking delicious in a tuxedo, the jacket of which would look even better on our bedroom floor later. Even better, it would look amazing if I picked it off the floor and found my engagement ring under it, which had been missing for two days, when I’d taken it off to have a shower.
He kissed me first, a kiss suitable for the entrance to a gala dinner, where the tables for the night cost more than my salary.
“You look beautiful. And we have three minutes to spare – plenty of time.” He ushered me inside. “How’s Catrin?”
I laughed. “As you’d expect.”
“That bad?”
I nodded. “Another two weeks with a man she can’t stand.” Although I was beginning to wonder how much of it was an act.
Noah was restless throughout the meal, his hand constantly touching me somewhere, my leg, arm, even shifting up the inside of my thigh to between my legs, where he found I wasn’t wearing underwear.
He’d done this before, fingered me while we were hidden in public, but tonight he just let out a growl and left me feeling slightly disappointed.
“What’s the matter? You seem nervous about something.” He wasn’t having to speak tonight, something he did get nervous about.
He nodded. “Can we step outside for a minute?”
“Sure.” I followed him out of the decorated room. It was a gala for a charity that supported the arts, one my sister Maven had an interest in, and a date that was non-negotiable on my schedule. Right now was a break before the entertainment started, so we had a few minutes to get whatever Noah needed out of his system.
He led me to an unlocked room, just off the main corridor, probably used for smaller functions than tonight.
And then he dropped to one knee.
I gasped. Everything froze.
“Do you know about the ring?”
He laughed, his shoulders relaxing. “Imogen, I took the bloody ring! I was wondering when you’d have the guts to tell me you’d lost it though. Anyway.”
I swallowed hard. I hadn’t been expecting this.
“I know we’re already married, but you never had the proposal you should. So this is it now.
“Imogen Green, as kids, I thought you were pretty and interesting; as adults I still think that but I think you’re now downright beautiful, intelligent and the most fascinating person I’ve ever met. I know I don’t want to spend any of my life without you, and even though we’re already married, I want to formally propose that we renew our vows, and marry each other all over again.”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!”
He caught me before I crashed into him on the floor.
“You said something similar last night…” His grin turned dirty. “I might make you say it again later.” He pushed my engagement ring back onto my finger.
I shook my head and kissed him because what else was there to do?
Epilogue
Noah
We were in a hammock, set up for two, in Antigua. Imogen was lying on my chest, her ass settled between my legs, both of us completely satisfied after a round of afternoon sex that had made the resident lizard want to smoke a cigar afterwards.
This was our second honeymoon, and our second wedding, just a month after I’d proposed properly to her. After the grandiose affair of the first one, we’d decided to keep this one to just us, a beach, and a celebrant, in front of whom we’d renewed our vows, this time with ones we’d written.
It was perfect. What was even more perfect was the knowledge that this time those vows were meant. We knew what we were in for with each other, we knew that a marriage wasn’t easy, yet we still wanted to do it.
“I think we should move out here.” I moved my hand lazily up to just below her bikini top, sliding a finger underneath, just to tease.
“We can’t.”
“Why’s that? I can’t think of any reason why we couldn’t.”
She laughed, relaxing back even more. My hand pushed completely under the cup of her bikini.
“Zeke.”
I froze. ‘I’m not sure I like you saying my best friend’s name when I’ve got my hand on your tits.” I paused the thought about whether we could have sex in a hammock.
“We have to go home. I want to see what happens with Zeke and Catrin.”
She sat up and undid her bikini top, which completely distracted me from what she’d just said. We were on a private part of the beach, allocated to just us, and the hammock was hung between two trees, which did give us a lot of privacy. To be sure though, I covered both her tits with my hands when she lay back down.
“You don’t think she’s interested in him.”
I sighed. “I don’t want to be talking about Zeke right now, but if it helps you move on, I think they’re complete opposites that would never be attracted.”
“Why? Because she’s crazy? So’s he.”
“True.”
“They both like art.”
“Also true.”
“They both like to argue.”
“Okay, you win. Can I get you off now?”
She laughed, almost shutting up. “I’m right. I bet they're together by Christmas.”
“I bet you’re wrong. I bet they’re together now, and they’re just keeping it a secret.”
“Hmmm,” was the only sound she made.
I decided to let the conversation drop and make good use of the hammock.
Just so you know, it was totally possible to have sex in one.
The End
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What to read next?
Catrin Green’s story, The Atelier Agreement, can be pre-ordered here! It’s an enemies-to-lovers, single dad romance with a grumpy AF Lord - I wonder if you’ve met him already!
Have you met the rest of the Callaghans? If not, start with Engagement Rate, which is where you meet Jackson Callaghan for the very first time. There’s a peak of the first chapter after this.
Or, do you fancy a change of scenery and want to take a trip to a small town? Visit Severton, in Sleighed; this friends-to-lovers romantic suspense will capture your heart as much as Sorrell Slater steals Zack Maynard’s.
OR… get ready to start a new series! Penalty Kiss is the first in the Manchester Athletic series, steamy sports romances that take place in soccer’s premier league. You can check out the first chapter here exclusively!
ENGAGEMENT RATE
CHAPTER ONE - JACKSON
I’d never considered that watching a woman do pull ups was a way to get rid of jet lag. This woman was wearing a sports bra that did nothing to hide the shape of perfect breasts and showed off a toned, smooth stomach; her yoga pants outlined long, long legs that would look fucking amazing around me as I thrust into her.
But sleep deprived, jet lagged and being travel-fresh wasn’t the best way to be caught staring at the dark-haired mystery working out in the gym. I was a lawyer and a businessman, and the way I was looking at her was not giving a professional first impression. Given I was in the gym in my company’s offices that was what I should be trying to do.
Deadlifts, bicep curls, tricep extensions, and a chest press too heavy to be doing without a spotter took my focus away from obsessing exactly how her long dark hair would look wrapped around my fist. I put the image of my head; it had been a while since I’d hooked up with anyone, but fantasising about someone who would be working here in a professional capacity was not on my to do list.
I had missed this space in the past three weeks; it was my retreat, my sanctuary. The place where I could be me and not the man who ran his family’s law firm. I focused on the music that was blaring out of the speakers and t
ried to stop looking at her. I should know who she was – I ran the place after all, and it was going to be embarrassing when I couldn’t place her. My brother, Maxwell, went through secretaries on a bi-weekly basis, so she could quite easily be a temp.
“Fuck me,” she said, as she half collapsed to the ground from the pull up bar, shaking her arms.
I managed to bite my tongue, stopping myself from offering to do just that. I watched her as she began another set of pull ups, hoping that she was aware of me being there. She was tall, a few inches shorter than my six two, with dark hair pulled into one of those messy bun things; all lean muscle and curves.
I turned my back to head for the showers, unsure if she was aware of me being there or not.
“Sorry,” I heard her say and I turned back, my neck twisting like an owl’s and my brain trying to conjure up images of Granny Callaghan without her teeth in. “I was oblivious to anyone else being in here. I apologise if you heard me swearing. Pull-ups aren’t my favourite thing to do.” She massaged her hands and I wasn’t sure whether it was a nervous reaction or they were hurting from the grip she had to use to do the exercise.
I shrugged, the images of Granny doing their job. “Not like I never use those words. I’m Jackson Callaghan. I don’t think we’ve met before.” I might as well get it out of the way
She stepped forward, beads of sweat glistening on her skin. “Vanessa Moore. I’m from Cole Henderson Marketing. Claire said it was okay to use the gym down here.”
I guessed she knew who I was, as our website had a profile of me on there. But right now, I hardly looked like I did on there. Shirts and suits went a long way to covering up most of my tattoos and I generally looked more presentable when my hair was not tied up in a shitty man bun and my scruff was tamed instead of looking as if garden birds were nesting there.
“It’s absolutely fine while you’re working with us. How’ve you found the first few days?” I hoped she’d enjoyed it so far. I was proud of the firm that I ran, and wanted people working for us to find it
She was close enough now for me to see that she wasn’t wearing a scrap of make-up, her cheeks red from the exercise and blue eyes bright.
“Good. There’s a lot to do to rebrand and get everything ready for your father’s retirement ball but the firm’s got a clear direction and ethos so it’s volume of tasks rather than having to come up with the creative.” She tightened the ponytail and I sensed she was trying to show that she knew what she was doing, as if she was trying to impress me.
I knew how she felt. At thirty-four I was young to have this sort of role, managing and directing an extremely profitable and noteworthy law firm, and I needed encouragement. Trying to make your way somewhere was difficult for everyone. I got that. The need to underline that you knew what you were doing.
“Sounds like you have a handle on things already. How about staff? I hope Kirsty’s been accommodating.”
Vanessa’s eyes dropped to my chest and I couldn’t resist the urge to very slightly flex my muscles. Her cheeks grew redder and I smirked. It was nice to be able to impress in other ways too.
“It’s different for her. She’s not used to someone else directing. But she’s got a decent skill set and it’s a case of trying to develop her a little more so once we’ve finished you’ve got a good employee.”
This confirmed some of my concerns about Kirsty. “Vanessa.” I didn’t even bother with the formality of calling her Ms Moore, partly because she could be married, partly because I had enough stuffy clients to be uber-polite to. “Here probably isn’t the best place for this conversation and I probably smell of planes as well as sweat. How about we get showers and I’ll spot us breakfast? We can discuss your ideas and how they align with the brief so far. And probably introduce ourselves.”
“I can do that,” she gave me a slight nod. “I’ll leave a note for Kirsty to let her know I might be running a few minutes late to meet her.” There was a smile that turned into a grin, with, God forbid, a dimple. “I have a huge appetite, by the way, and I don’t do prissy food.”
“Noted.” I shot back a smile back. “I don’t do prissy anything. See you in reception in – thirty minutes?” I wondered how much time she needed to shower and dress. My experience of women was that they took an age to get ready, especially my sisters.
“Sure,” she nodded, her eyes drifting down to my chest again and I struggled not to preen. She headed to the changing rooms and I tried to casually walk away, my mind conjuring up images of her naked in the shower with water pouring over those tits and all the ways I could help get her clean.
And then dirty again.
I showered quickly, turning the temperature onto Baltic cold to get rid of any lingering hardness in my cock. I needed to focus on work and getting involved with a contractor was not good business practice. Yes, she was beautiful and probably intelligent given she ran her own business but she was off-limits. So why the fuck was I taking her to breakfast?
Carry on reading Engagement Rate
SLEIGHED
Take a trip to Severton, with this small town, romantic suspense - you’ll never want to leave!
Zack Maynard rubbed at the thick stubble that had accumulated since that morning and debated which incompetence he should yell about first. He was spoilt for choice given that one of his staff had failed to lock a door that should be kept locked and bolted at all times, and a resident had gone exploring. His cousin, Jake, had delivered a truck full of alpacas to the field next to Severton Sunlight Care and Nursing Home and had neglected to tell his farmhand to ensure the gate was shut. And the world’s slowest builders had seemingly been employed to take as much time as possible to erect the extension to the dementia care unit and entertainment hall, and the words coming out of the site manager’s mouth were not the ones he wanted to hear.
“We’re looking at mid-January.”
Zack stuffed his hands in his coat pockets. “I’m sorry. Can you repeat that?”
“It’s unlikely to be finished before mid-Jan. I realise that’s a bit of a pain…”
His accent was broad, thickly Northern and Zack knew he needed to be careful not to mimic it.
“You realise there’s a clause in the contract if the building wasn’t fit for purpose on December twentieth so we can use it for Christmas dinner?” He managed to ignore an alpaca that was lingering nearby. He was going to kill his fucking cousin.
Jez Hammond, site manager non-extraordinaire, nodded and made a noise that could be interpreted as an agreement. “I realise that, as does the company. However, there was some issues with laying the foundations that’s slowed us down and we’ve encountered a problem with labour.”
Zack looked at the site, the half-finished shell of a building and the surrounding rubble. “What’s the issue with labour?” He could see maybe four men at work and even though he wasn’t an expert on construction, even he knew that this wasn’t enough.
“The usual shortage. Contractors, you know?”
The alpaca made an odd snorting noise and edged closer, its mouth slightly hung open, displaying large teeth.
Jake was going to die.
And then possibly be used as alpaca food.
“I don’t know. I manage a care home for the elderly. Working with builders, electricians, plasterers, plumbers—that isn’t my speciality. It’s what I’m paying you for. And right now, I can count the number of people working on this project on one hand.”
The alpaca came closer. It nudged Jez’s arm and made a strange sound again. A rather excited sound. One Zack was wary of. He was going to fucking kill Jake, even if it would upset his aunt.
“I’m doing what I can, son. We were running behind, but we should’ve been done in time for Christmas so you could use the hall for your do, but the lass at the hotel on the hill has paid over the odds for labourers so we’re down. If these bloody schools would stop encouraging kids to go to university to study bleeding Harry Potter and get them in proper work instead, we
wouldn’t be so far behind.” Jez patted his shapely beer belly.
Zack’s words froze in his mouth. Not because the temperature was skating lower than normal for this time of year, but because the alpaca’s expression had turned to one of sheer delight as it started to sink its teeth into the thick fleece of the site manager’s coat. It was an action Zack could only attribute to fate.
“Holy fuck!” Jez yelled, yanking his arm away. But the alpaca’s teeth were firmly sunk into the material. “Get this bastard animal off my bleeding arm? I thought this was a care home, not a freaking petting zoo with sadistic fucking beasts.” He carried on pulling his arm away from the set jaws of the alpaca.
“I’m going to feed Jake limb by limb to his new fucking pets,” Zack muttered under his breath, trying to entice the alpaca away.
He saw Lee Barnes, Jake’s farmhand trying to round up the rest of the escaped animals and shouted him over. Lee strode over, taking his own sweet time. He was dressed in just a T-shirt and ripped jeans, oblivious to the cold.
“We have a situation.” Zack pointed at the animal. “Please let my cousin know he’s going to be in a situation later. Where the hell have these creatures come from? And why?”
Lee shrugged. He was a man of few words at the best of times, preferring to communicate through the set of drums he hit most weekends. He leaned over to the creature and blew at its nose. The alpaca gave a gentle snort and released its death chomp.
“Sorry about that.” Lee didn’t look that sorry. “I’ll get rounding them up.”
“Make sure you do.” Zack turned back towards Jez. “Why can’t you stop your contractors from working on the hotel and get them back down here?”
Jez rubbed at his arm. “We don’t have the budget to pay them what the lass up there has agreed to. And they’ll only be a couple of weeks, then they’ll come back down here and finish off. I’m sorry, Zack, but there ain’t much more I can do.”