Tempt Me: A First Class Romance Collection

by Jessica Hawkins

  Ryan places his palm on Claire’s tiny, sleeping head against his chest and continues: “Tessa had the idea for us to have a little family-friendly gathering with our closest friends and family before tonight’s adults-only soiree.” He looks directly at me at the back of the crowd. “And I gotta say, babe, it was a great idea.” He winks at me and I wink back.

  Oh my God, I love my husband. There’s nothing like seeing him with our baby strapped to his broad chest while hearing him talk so passionately about the business he’s worked so hard to make successful. And that cute little wink he just gave me was the cherry on top of the sundae. Wooh! I’m suddenly feeling the distinct urge to give my sexy husband a highly enthusiastic blowjob at my first opportunity.

  “Honestly,” Ryan says, drawing me out my fellatio-themed reverie, “I never once imagined in my wildest dreams we’d be opening our fifth location at all, let alone this quickly—or that we’d be having this much fun along the way.” He shoots me a massive smile that melts my heart and makes my ovaries quake like rockets just before lift-off. “So I want to thank my partners, especially my wife, for...”

  “Mommy?” my son, three-year-old Zachary Hennessy Morgan, says, abruptly lifting his sleepy head off my chest.

  I smooth his tousled hair out of his dark eyes. “What’s up, bubba?”

  “I gotta go pee-pee, Mommy,” Zac says, his little voice edged with unmistakable urgency.

  I spring into action. “Good boy. Come on, buddy. Good boy!”

  I quickly lead my little potty-trainer through the crowd toward the restrooms, smiling and nodding at the friends and family we pass along our route: Keane and his fiancée, Maddy (a documentary filmmaker who happens to be Hannah Banana Montana Milliken’s little sister); Colby and his pregnant wife, and Henn and Hannah and their brand new daughter, Hazel (who looks so much like Henn, Hannah keeps accusing her husband of sneaking their combined genes into a centrifuge and somehow extracting every characteristic having to do with her).

  Finally, Zachary and I reach the bathroom door, just as my mother-in-law emerges with Kat’s four-year-old mini-me, Little Miss Gracie Louise Faraday (aka “Little G” aka “Mademoiselle Terrorist”).

  “Hi, Zacky,” Louise says. She looks at me. “Do you want me to take him?”

  “Oh, thanks, Momma Lou. I don’t wanna miss Ryan talking about Captain’s. You know how much I love hearing him gush.”

  Louise winks at me. “I know. Just do me a favor and take Little G back to Kitty. Come on, Zacky-baby. Show me what a big boy you are.”

  “Will you give me a candy like Mommy does, Gramma Lou?”

  Louise looks at me, a question on her face, and I nod.

  “Of course,” my mother-in-law replies. “Where do you think the mommies in this family got the brilliant idea to give their kiddos M&Ms for pee-pees in the toilet?” She winks at me and guides my baby through the bathroom door.

  I escort Gracie to her mommy and daddy and brother and then stand off to the side, listening with rapt attention to the tail end of my husband’s speech, my heart swelling with pride and joy and love of a magnitude I truly didn’t know existed before this gorgeous man came into my life.

  “...which is why I’m so thrilled to own Captain’s with the people I respect and love the most,” Ryan is saying, his face aglow. “So thanks again to my partners—Josh, Kat, Jonas, Sarah, and, most of all, my beautiful wife—for making this journey, and this crazy life, so much fun, and thanks to all of you for dropping by this afternoon to celebrate with cupcakes and lemonade before we ditch the kids and come back tonight to celebrate with lots and lots of booze. Hear, hear!”

  Everyone laughs and clinks glasses of lemonade.

  Josh assumes the microphone to say a few quick words about an upcoming fundraiser Captain’s will be hosting for a children’s charity we all support, and Ryan immediately strides across the bar to me.

  “Hey there, Mrs. Morgan,” he says. He wraps me in his strong arms and pulls me close, gently smooshing the tiny human we (brilliantly) made together (because we’re super smart like that) between our warm bodies.

  “Hey, Baby-Daddy,” I reply, looking down at the top of Claire’s fuzzy head between our chests. “Is C-Dog still sleeping down there?”

  “Like a baby,” Ryan says. “Where’s Z-Dog?”

  “With your momma in the bathroom. He woke up and told me he had to pee-pee.”

  “Awesome. The power of M&Ms. You’re so damned smart, woman.”

  “I can’t take credit for that little trick. Kat told me about it—although, I just found out she got the idea from the Grand Dame.”

  “Of course, she did. All good parenting tricks originate with my mother. I mean, yeesh, if changing two kids’ diapers at once is nuts, I can’t imagine how my mom simultaneously changed diapers for three.”

  I laugh. “You don’t get to complain about changing shitty diapers, babe. You’re the one who kept begging me for a second human. You don’t get to beg for ’em and then complain about having to change their diapers.”

  “Oh, I’m not complaining about a damned thing and you know it. I love it all, including changing shitty diapers.” He chuckles and kisses me and his stubble slides roughly across my chin, making my nipples harden at the memory of his stubble between my thighs last night. “I’m the last guy in the world who’s got anything to complain about,” he whispers, his lips skimming mine. “In fact, just puttin’ it out there: I’m ready to change a third human’s diapers any time.”

  “Dude. I just popped Claire out three months ago. Gimme a minute to catch my damned breath. We’ve got plenty of time. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “No pressure. I’m just letting you know, I’m totally on board, whenever you’re ready. Let’s make a soccer team. Viva La Banda Morgana!”

  I giggle and he nuzzles his nose into mine.

  “I’ve heard you loud and clear, Romeo,” I whisper. “But let’s just slow it down a tad, shall we?”

  “I can’t help it, baby. You’re just so damned sexy when you’re pregnant. And when you’re not pregnant. And when you’re sleeping. And awake. And talking. And not talking. And when you’re reading. Or cooking. Or breathing. Oh my God, and don’t get me started on what a turn-on it is when you hold our babies—oh my God—I’m seriously getting hard right now, just thinking about it.”

  I laugh. “You’re not normal, Captain Morgan.”

  “I’m pretty sure that particular cat leaped out of its bag a long time ago.” He lets out a loaded sigh. “Holy shit.”

  “What?”

  “I knew we’d have a great life—I really did. I saw it. But I had no idea it’d be this great. Thank you for saying yes.”

  “It was the Power Point. I couldn’t resist the effing Power Point.”

  He laughs. “Dogs and wives. I’m telling ya.”

  “And school dances. But just to be clear, I made a huge sacrifice saying yes to you. Huge.”

  Ryan chuckles. “How about I work off my debt again tonight?”

  “You better. Right I after I have my way with you, Captain.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “You know how much it turns me on when you’ve got one of our babies strapped to your chest.”

  “Why do you think I do it all the time?”

  I laugh. “Because you love having a baby strapped to your chest.”

  Ryan smiles. “True. But I also do it because I know it turns you on.”

  “Well, it’s working.” I lower my voice. “I’m thinking Samantha and Ulysses should come out to play tonight.”

  Ryan skims his lips across mine. “Oh my God, woman, you turn me on.”

  “Captain, My Captain,” I whisper.

  “Are you trying to torture me?”

  “Daddy, I made pee-pee in the toilet!” Zachary says, appearing out of nowhere with Louise.

  Ryan smiles wistfully at me and bends down to pick up his beloved son with one of his muscular arms, taking care not to smash Claire’s lit
tle body against his chest as he does.

  As my husband learns the exciting details of Zachary’s hard-earned M&M, I stand, frozen, watching him, my heart bursting.

  I don’t know why Ryan loves me so passionately. I don’t know why he thinks I “hung the moon” and regularly brings home little “moon” gifts to remind me of that fact (like the cow-jumping-over-the-moon salt-and-pepper shakers he got at a flea market not too long ago and a charm bracelet featuring a dangling diamond moon he gave me for Mother’s Day this year). I don’t know why this beautiful man’s attraction to me never seems to wane but, instead, only seems to grow and strengthen with each new day.

  I don’t know why Ryan seems convinced I’m perfect, when, in fact, I’m so obviously flawed in a thousand annoying ways.

  I truly don’t know how I managed to stumble into this wonderful life, whether it was just dumb luck or fate; but, either way, the end result is the same: I’m married to the man of my dreams.

  And that’s why, after much thought on the topic, I’ve finally decided to stop trying to analyze his unflagging devotion and instead focus my energies on deserving it, to the best of my abilities—trying, on a daily basis, to do whatever I can to make sure my beloved husband feels as worshipped and adored in this marriage as I do.

  As Ryan continues chatting with Zac, Claire stirs against his chest and makes a little yelping sound, signaling she’s hungry.

  “Hang on a minute, buddy,” Ryan says calmly to Zac. He puts our son down, deftly pulls Claire’s tiny body out of her carrier, and gently hands her to me, no words necessary.

  “Are you hungry?” I coo to Claire, sticking my fingertip into her mouth and heading toward a quiet corner.

  “Sorry, buddy,” Ryan says behind my back to Zachary. “Finish your story. I’m listening. And then what happened?”

  I turn back around. “Babe?”

  Ryan looks at me, his eyebrows raised.

  “I love you so much,” I say. I swallow hard, suddenly feeling overcome with emotion. Those words are so paltry. So insufficient. But they’re all I have. “I love you more than words can say.”

  Ryan shoots me a beaming smile. “And I love you—the absolute most.”

  We smile at each other for a beat, until Claire jerks free of my fingertip and lets out a screeching noise that tells me I’m playing with fire if I make her wait any longer.

  But I still haven’t managed to convey everything I’m feeling. “I just wanna thank you...” I choke out. “For...” I don’t even know what the hell I’m trying to say to this beautiful man. “For loving me the way you do.”

  The look that overtakes Ryan’s features is pure love and patience. “Baby, I have no choice but to love you—you’re my ‘kick.’” He flashes me a beautiful smile. “Don’t ever thank me for loving you.” He kisses Zachary on the cheek and winks at me. “Loving you is what I was born to do.”

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