Vegas, Baby: Complete Series

by Fiona Davenport

  The door wasn’t locked, so I burst inside without knocking or announcing myself. There were three bedrooms in the suite, but only one door was closed, and I sprinted over to it.

  This time, I opened the door gently, not wanting to disturb Belle if she was asleep. But, damn, I needed to see her, touch her, and assure myself that she was okay.

  The room was dark other than a small sliver of light shining from between the drawn curtains. It lit a path to the bed and gave off just enough glow for me to see the woman lying under the covers. I toed off my shoes and padded over to the side of the bed. Carefully, I pulled back the blanket, then slipped in next to her. She didn’t wake when I pulled her into my arms, but she snuggled deeper into my embrace and sighed.

  Holding her close, I shut my eyes and listened to her cute little snores until I fell asleep. I was finally home.

  The sound of someone getting sick jerked me out of a deep sleep. I was groggy for a few seconds until my mind cleared the instant I realized Belle was no longer in bed with me.

  I jumped up and ran to the bathroom, skidding to a halt at the sight of Belle slumped over the toilet. I grabbed a hand towel and ran it under the tap before kneeling at her side. As I gathered her hair in one hand, she glanced up at me with bleary eyes.

  “Griff?” she asked hoarsely.

  I laid the damp towel on her neck before leaning in to kiss her forehead. Her skin was clammy, and I was happy there was no sign of fever.

  “Hey, baby.”

  “Of course, this is the moment you choose to show up,” she groaned.

  A smile tugged at my lips, and I kissed her head again. “You look beautiful, Belle.” She scoffed, then moaned and basically face-planted into my chest. “Are you done?”

  She nodded and mumbled a muffled, “I think so.”

  I scooped her into my arms and took her to the sink. After searching a couple of drawers, I found several spare toothbrushes in clear packaging and a few different tubes of toothpaste. Belle shot me a grateful look when I squeezed some paste on a brush and handed it to her. After brushing and rinsing with mouthwash, I picked her up again and returned her to the bed.

  “Are you here to break up with me?” she asked in a small voice. Her brown eyes were glistening and filled with sadness that broke my heart.

  “What?” I reared back in shock. “What the fuck would make you think that?”

  She shrugged and looked away. “You’ve been really distant, and you didn’t want to talk to me, and then I heard that woman—”

  I placed a finger on her lips to stop her rambling, then replaced it with my mouth for a long, sweet kiss. “Haven’t I made it clear that we’re forever?” I inquired softly when we parted.

  “I just thought maybe you’d changed your mind.”

  I climbed into bed next to her and scooted my back until it was supported by the headboard. Then I dragged her into my lap, so she was sitting sideways and leaning against my chest.

  “Never,” I reassured her with a tender kiss on her temple. My arms tightened around her.

  “If you weren’t sick, I would strip you down right now and remind you that you’re mine. Will always be mine.”

  “I’m not sick. I’m pregnant.”

  I froze, not sure I’d heard her correctly. “Pardon?” I croaked.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  “With a baby?” I don’t know what possessed me to ask that question.

  Belle sat up and observed me with a wry expression. “No, with a snapdragon. Yes, a baby!”

  “Holy shit!” I crowed suddenly, startling her into falling off my lap. “Sorry, baby,” I apologized with a grin as I lifted her back into place. “A baby! Hot damn. The woman I love is carrying my fucking baby!”

  Belle gasped, and my gaze whipped to hers. I didn’t understand her reaction. Was she upset about the baby?

  “The woman you love?”

  I frowned, confused at her tone. “Yeah.”

  “You’ve um”—she swallowed hard—“You’ve never told me you love me.”

  My eyebrows shot up, probably lost in my hairline. “What?” Son of a bitch. No wonder she hadn’t been convinced I was all in. I cradled her face in my hands and stared into her warm, chocolate eyes. “I love you more than anything, baby. More than my next breath.”

  Tears spilled down her cheeks, but she smiled radiantly. “I love you, too.”

  “Then why are you crying?”

  She shrugged and laughed. “Dumb hormones.” Her expression faltered, and she cocked her head to the side. “Wait, we haven’t figured out the whole living in two states thing,” she said warily.

  With a sheepish shake of my head, I admitted, “I wanted to surprise you but apparently, I suck at this shit.”

  I explained about rushing to get the album done and ironing out the details of the contract with The Lennox and The Artemis. Her eyes had grown wide and were filled with hope and love.

  “What about Rising Phoenix?”

  “Believe it or not, the guys are all ready to be settled down, at least for a while. Bex had a weird requirement to add to the contract, so it’s with our lawyer. Otherwise, we would have signed already. We might go on short tours from time to time, three-month stints at the very most. But I’ll only go if you’re able to get away and come with me.”

  Her pink lips formed a cute little O, and she stared at me in wonder. “You’d give up touring to be with me?”

  “I’d give up everything to be with you.”

  Epilogue

  Belle

  One year later

  I barely resisted the urge to swipe my finger through the frosting while I stared in awe at the four-tier cake Ariel had made for my first wedding anniversary. It was the perfect blend of Griffith and me, with lavender flowers, black musical notes etched into the sides, and a guitar-themed, Mr. and Mrs. cake topper. “You outdid yourself this time. I think this is the most gorgeous cake you’ve ever made.”

  “Yay! I’m so glad you like it.” Ariel clapped her hands together and grinned. “I was having a hard time coming up with the perfect gift since your hubby loves to spoil you. Then I thought about how I didn’t have the chance to make you the perfect cake when you got married since he rushed you to the altar. Your anniversary seemed like the perfect opportunity to rectify that travesty.”

  Coming from anyone else, calling the two-tier cake she’d whipped up for us a year ago a travesty would’ve been an exaggeration. But Ariel was serious about her pastries, which came in handy since she was in charge of all the wedding cakes for The Chapel of Dreams. She loved baking and it showed, which was one of the things that helped put our little chapel on the map.

  “It’s not my fault we got married the day after Griffith came back to Vegas.” I pointed toward Knox, who was holding my four-month-old baby girl. “You have your darling niece to thank for that. If I hadn’t been so exhausted when I told her daddy about being pregnant, he would’ve carried me down to the chapel and talked Aurora into bumping whoever else was getting married to another time so we could take their spot.”

  “You’re half right. I did wait a day because of how you were feeling, but Cyra wasn’t the reason I wanted to get married so quickly. That was all your doing,” Griffith murmured as he came up and wrapped his arms around me. “After hearing you say you loved me, I couldn’t wait to get my rings on your finger so every motherfucker around would know you’re taken.”

  I ran my thumb over the thick platinum band circling his finger. “It’s not like I can argue since part of the reason why I went along with you rushing me to the altar was that I was looking forward to marking you as my own, too.”

  His arms dropped, and he circled around me. “I hadn’t planned on showing you this particular gift until we were alone later, but you just gave me the perfect opening.” He lifted his shirt over his head and flashed me a wicked grin.

  My gaze dropped to his bare chest, and it took me a long moment before what I was seeing registered in my br
ain. “You tattooed my name on your chest?”

  “Fuck, yeah. I’ve been meaning to get it done for a while now, but I was waiting for the guy who does all my ink to come up with the perfect design.” He gestured at the red heart that had my name etched on it in black and music flowing through it. “Maddox came up with this last week, just in time for our anniversary.”

  I was blown away by the sight and could only say, “I love it.”

  “You’d better, ‘cause you’re going to be seeing it for the rest of your life.”

  I grinned but then it fell when I glanced around and noticed a few other people admiring his naked chest as well. “You can show me again later,” I told him while tugging on his shirt. Griffith laughed and pulled it back on before swaggering off to steal our daughter from Knox.

  As I watched him hold her, Ariel turned to me and said, “I dare you to get Griffith’s name tattooed on you.”

  I rolled my eyes and started to walk away when she put a hand on my arm. Her smile was wicked when she said, “I double dog dare you.”

  “Well, crap. Did you really have to pull out the big guns right off the bat?” I muttered. Double dog dares were taken seriously by the Dawson sisters. It was almost impossible for the recipient to get out of the challenge.

  Ariel’s grin was smug as she answered, “Yup, otherwise you’d never do it.”

  “Fine, but I can’t bring Griffith with me, so you’re up,” I huffed.

  My sister shrugged and agreed, “Sure, why not? It might be fun to see you get a tattoo.”

  Epilogue

  Griffith

  5 years later

  “Happy birthday, Daddy!”

  Cyra jumped up and down on the bed, clapping her little hands with barely contained excitement. Her two-year-old brother, Brand, copied her movements with a toothy grin.

  “It’s my birthday?” I gasped dramatically, making them both giggle and fall over on the mattress. Belle stood to the side of the bed, smiling and holding a tray of breakfast. “Alright kids, let’s give Daddy his special breakfast.”

  Cyra scrambled to her feet and started jumping again. “Presents first! Presents!”

  “Yeah! Pwezence!” yelled Brand.

  I shrugged at Belle with mock helplessness. “I guess we better do presents fast, before I starve.” I swept my eyes over her and smirked. “Besides, waking up alone on my birthday made me hungry for an entirely different breakfast.” Her cheeks dusted with pink, and she shook her head in a failed attempt at being exasperated.

  She set the tray on the bedside table and walked to our closet. I snatched a piece of bacon, breaking it in half and giving one to each kid before grabbing another piece for me.

  When she reemerged, she had a large, rectangular package, a small square box, and a matching one that was slightly larger.

  Cyra and Brand were jumping up and down again, making me laugh. I made a grab for both of them and pulled them down, one on each side of me. “You guys want to help?”

  They shouted yes, and as soon as Belle put the largest present in my lap, they tore into the wrapping paper. Once the plain box was revealed, I opened it and grinned at the contents. “Is this the 1960 Gibson Les Paul Standard I was looking at?”

  Belle had climbed onto the bed and pulled Brand into her lap so she could sit next to me as well. She nodded, her smile brilliant and happy.

  I leaned over and gave her a sweet kiss before murmuring, “Thank you, baby.” Then I looked it over almost reverently. I’d been salivating over this particular vintage guitar for years. “How the fu—” I paused when she tilted her head towards Brand and glared—"heck did you convince the owner to sell?” I’d made at least a dozen offers and been turned down each time.

  Belle smirked. “I have my ways.”

  I quirked an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.

  “Auntie Lia beat his pants off!” Cyra announced, referring to our friend Becket’s wife, who was a Poker World Champion.

  Belle chuckled and nodded. “Turned out the guy was big into poker. Lia offered to play him, and he jumped at the chance to prove he was worthy of the pros.” Belle proceeded to tell me the story of how Lia took a few easy ones, then let him win a few, basically pumping his ego. Eventually, when he was overconfident, she talked him into betting the guitar. Then she wiped the table with him. By the time Belle was done with the story, I was laughing my ass off.

  “I still paid him fair market value,” she admitted.

  “Next present, Daddy,” Cyra exclaimed as she shoved the smallest box in my lap. I carefully handed Belle the instrument, and she set it far enough away to avoid child catastrophes.

  “From See-wra an’ me!” Brand insisted with a tap on my leg.

  I ruffled his blond fauxhawk—he insisted on the same haircut as his daddy and who could blame him for wanting to look like a stud? “I’ll bet it’s crazy awesome, dude.” He puffed up his little chest and nodded matter of factly.

  Once I’d removed the paper, I opened the white cardboard container to find a pile of guitar picks. I lifted one, and a wide grin split my face when I saw it had a picture of Cyra and Brand smiling sweetly back at me. The next one was of Belle and I on our wedding day. Another was the four of us when Brand was born. Cyra narrated, telling me what was in each picture. Every new pick had a photo that documented moments, basically telling the story of our life together. With each one, my lips turned up even more until I thought my face might break.

  “Daddy, yo face wet,” Brand said with a deep frown. “Men don’t cry.” I laughed and wiped at the tear that had slid down my cheek.

  “Maybe one tear when we’re super happy, dude.”

  He eyed me skeptically, then shrugged and played with the guitar picks.

  “These are amazing, guys. Thank you.” I kissed and hugged both kids, then gave Belle a quick peck and a look that told her she’d get her appreciation later.

  There was still a gift to be opened, but Belle held it back when I reached for it. “This is from me.” She winked. “You can open it later.” Her sly smile told me it was something that couldn’t be opened in front of the kids and she’d pulled it out just to torture me since we had friends and family coming over for a barbeque.

  “Angling for another spanking, baby?” I murmured.

  Her brown eyes turned molten, and her cheeks bloomed with pink. Later couldn’t come fast enough.

  “Kids are with your sister, and everyone is gone,” I declared when I walked into the kitchen later that night. “Let’s go.”

  Belle looked up from the large center island where she was packing away what was left of the cake. “Patience, Griff. I need to—” she broke off with a yelp when I ignored her protest and threw her over my shoulder in a fireman’s hold.

  “What you need is to get naked and let the birthday boy play with his favorite toys.”

  Belle giggled and slapped my ass. “I don’t want the cake to dry out!”

  I halted and twirled around, keeping her steady with a hand on her butt. “No problem,” I assured her. I grabbed the plate of sugary goodness and pivoted once more, heading straight to our bedroom. “I’ll make sure it’s all gone by the time I’ve finished licking it off of you.”

  Once we reached the master suite, I made a beeline for the bed and tossed her onto it. She laughed as she bounced, and I had to stop for a second and admire the view before me. Belle was wearing shorts and a white tank that had a purple stain from Brand dripping grape juice on it. There was frosting on her cheek, and her hair was falling out of the ponytail she’d thrown it in when it got really hot that afternoon.

  “I don’t know how you do it,” I breathed. “You get even more gorgeous every fucking day.”

  Belle’s expression softened, but she chuckled ruefully. “I’m a mess!”

  “Gorgeous,” I disagreed with a tone that indicated I couldn’t be swayed to believe otherwise. “Now, where’s that present?”

  I looked around and spotted it on the dresser acro
ss the room. Glancing back at her as I walked over to it, I demanded, “Strip, baby. Time for your birthday spanking.”

  “How come I’m always the one getting birthday spankings, no matter whose birthday it is?” she grumbled.

  I retrieved the gift and headed back to her, grinning wolfishly. “Because I enjoy putting my mark on your pretty white ass.”

  Belle huffed and gestured to the box in my hand. “Open your present, caveman.”

  By the time I was back at the bed and sitting beside her, I’d already torn off the paper and opened the box. Inside was a small, plain, cream-colored card on top of black tissue paper. On the backside of the card was a simple, “Happy Birthday. I love you. Belle.” Then I noticed the small script at the bottom. “I suggest you hide this present where no one else will find it so I don’t have to help you hide any dead bodies.” Hard laughter burst from my chest, making me gasp for air. Adorable.

  “I’m glad you think so, but I was being completely serious,” Belle quipped, making me realize I’d said it out loud.

  Setting the card aside, I continued to chuckle as I lifted the black paper away, revealing a leather album. My curiosity was definitely piqued. I pushed all of the other stuff off of the bed and set the book in my lap before opening it to the first page.

  My breath whooshed from my lungs, and I nearly came right then and there.

  The first page was a picture of my wife wearing nothing. Well, almost nothing. She was sitting on the ground with my new guitar strategically placed in her lap. The next page was a similar photo in another pose.

  “Aurora hired a new photographer for the chapel, and she also does boudoir shoots.”

  I could barely tare my eyes away from the photos to glance up at her. “Baby, these are amazing.” I gave her a lopsided grin. “That guitar looks a fuck of a lot better in your hands than it ever will in mine. And you’re right, if anyone besides me ever sees these, they won’t live to tell about it.” I went back to flipping the pages as I teased, “But I’ll get Knox to help so I’m not implicated.”