Just One Night

by Charity Ferrell

  “Oh, that was just the shock. You didn’t see the bright-ass smile on her face after you left. She’s not pissed. She’s fucking elated.” She laughs. “The only people who weren’t over the moon were the women who wanted to be the one Dallas had knocked up. You got knocked up by Blue Beech’s finest bachelor. You go, girl.”

  “So, the news is out,” Dallas says.

  “The news is out,” I repeat slowly.

  Maven is passed out in the backseat, snoring like a man in a nursing home, and it’s almost eight o’clock. She apologized to me countless times for her outburst, but I couldn’t be upset at a girl sporting a Birthday Girl tiara and sash.

  “You want to come over?” he asks. “Hang out for a bit? I have leftover cake.”

  Jesus, does everyone think all I eat is cake?

  The thought of spending more time with him excites me, but the problem is, going to his house doesn’t. It terrifies me. The memories from our night together might slash a hole in the connection we’ve been making. We’ve already been through enough today. Reliving those memories isn’t something I want either one of us to do.

  “Not tonight,” I answer. “I’m exhausted.”

  “You sure?”

  I nod at the same time he pulls up to my apartment building, and I stop him from unbuckling his seat belt. “Don’t wake her up. I can walk myself in.”

  “Okay. I’ll wait out here until I see your light come on, and you call me to let me know you made it in okay.”

  And that’s what he does.

  It’s seven in the morning, and someone is banging on my door.

  “What is up with your family knocking people’s doors down at the butt crack of dawn?” I ask when Lauren walks in.

  “Good morning, my future sister-in-law,” she sings out while walking into my apartment. “I brought doughnuts and green tea.”

  Seriously?

  “What do you want?” I mutter in my best cranky voice.

  “You didn’t believe it’d be that easy to dodge me, did you, neighbor?” She plops down on a barstool at the island. “I was upset enough that I got called into work and missed my niece’s birthday party, and then I find out you’re having twins, and you didn’t tell me.” She crosses her arms. “As the girl who lives above you, I am extremely offended.”

  I take a gulp of the green tea. Yummy. “We were waiting. No one knew.”

  “Except the six-year-old.”

  “Except the six-year-old,” I mutter. “Your brother apparently can’t lie to his daughter.”

  “Yeah, he sucks at saying no to her. She’s got him wrapped around her finger. Now, if it’s a girl, I’d like her name to be Lauren.”

  I side-eye her. “It’s too early to argue about baby names.”

  “It’s never too early to hash it out over baby names. Trust me. I’ve heard stories from the maternity ward nurses about the kind of drama and chaos families have over baby names.”

  “I’m naming them after my pet goldfish—Goldie and Nemo.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Now that we’ve got Lauren Junior covered, what’s going on with you and my big bro?”

  My brows lift. “Other than the fact that we’re having twins together, nothing.”

  “His truck was here the other night when I got home at four in the morning. It seems to be here pretty frequently, if you ask me. Since we know you weren’t discussing baby names at four in the morning, what were y’all doing?”

  “Discussing nursery decor.”

  “You suck,” she grumbles.

  I perk up. “You love me.”

  “I do. But can I say something serious?”

  “I don’t think I can stop you.”

  “Don’t hurt him.”

  This really catches my attention. “Huh?”

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about. Don’t hurt my brother. He’s been through too much to lose someone else he loves.”

  Deflection time. “I’ve made it clear, I won’t ever keep the babies from him.”

  “I’m talking about you, girlfriend.” She annoyingly shakes her shoulders while drinking her smoothie through the straw.

  “Your brother most certainly does not love me.”

  She grins. “Not yet. From what my mother tells me, it’s getting pretty damn close, and my mama knows everything.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Dallas

  The excavator I bought from the auction is kicking my ass. Even though I do my due diligence the best I can, you never know what you’re going to get when you buy an item as is.

  It’s an easy fix but fucking time-consuming, and Hudson ran off for a staycation with Stella for the day—whatever the fuck that is—at the local bed-and-breakfast. I tried to fight him on it, telling him they could eat Cheerios at their kitchen table, and then he could come into work, but he agreed to give me as much time as I needed off when Willow had the babies.

  Almost a week has passed since Maven’s birthday party, and I’ve talked to Willow on the phone a couple times a day but not in person.

  The machine loses my attention when the music is cut off.

  I look down and grin. “This is a nice surprise.”

  Willow holds up the cooler in her hand. “Thought I’d bring you some lunch.”

  Good. I’m fucking starving, and I was planning on skipping lunch, so I wouldn’t have to spend time driving into town and then back today.

  I carefully move down the ladder and wipe my forehead with the back of my arm while coming her way. I laugh when she licks her lips while brazenly eye-fucking me at the same time I’m eye-fucking her.

  She’s not wearing her usual baggy clothes today. I’m not sure where she got the maternity clothes, but she’s breathtaking in her jean shorts and T-shirt that says Tacos for Two, Please.

  Her and her tacos.

  I run my hand down my sweaty chest. I have the air on high, but I get hot, no matter what, when I’m working on machine engines. “You like what you see?”

  She lifts her gaze back up my body and grins playfully. “Oh, I love what I see.”

  “You know, I’m more than just a hot, lean body.”

  I curl my arm around her shoulders to pull her into me and plant a kiss on her lips. She doesn’t even flinch. Us touching has become so natural. Not only does it feel good, having her here, but she also showed up without my asking. She took the time to make lunch and came to surprise me. She can deny it all she wants, but she’s falling for me.

  “I’m starving. What did you whip up for us?”

  She glances around the room. “It’s a surprise.”

  I gesture toward the other side of the garage. “We have a table and shit in the office, if you want to eat in there, or we can go outside?”

  “Outside. I’ve been quite the hermit lately. I could use some sun.”

  “You know the remedy to that problem?”

  She wrinkles her cute nose in annoyance. “Funny. I’ll start venturing out of my apartment when the time is right.”

  “I hope it’s before our kids turn sixteen.”

  She shoves my side and pulls away when we reach the picnic table underneath two weeping willows. My grandfather built the table decades ago for when my grandmother would bring him lunch.

  I rub my hands together when we sit down. “So, what have we got?”

  Her eyes widen in reluctance. “They say it’s the gesture, not the gift, right?”

  Did she bring cheese and crackers? A Snickers bar and Sunny Delight?

  “I’ll enjoy whatever you brought.”

  She draws in a breath when I open the cooler and start dragging out its contents. There are plastic bags with sandwiches in them.

  “I love me some peanut butter and jelly,” I say upon further inspection. The next item is a bag of tortilla chips large enough to feed Maven’s entire preschool and then a covered bowl. I open it and can’t stop the cheesy smile from hitting my lips. “And guacamole.”

  “I’m giving you a run f
or your money on the best guac in Blue Beech.”

  “Let’s taste-test it, shall we?” I open the bag of chips and dip one into the guacamole.

  It’s good, definitely not as good as mine, but I can tell she worked hard on it. She analyzes me chewing it likes she’s a contestant on Top Chef.

  “You killed it. I’ll bring over my trophy for you later this evening.”

  She raises a brow. “You’re just saying that because we’re having sex.”

  “There are better things I could say to you to get laid than”—I stop to fake a smoldering gaze I saw on The Bachelor once—“Hey, girl, you make excellent guacamole. Let’s fuck in a bed of guacamole, have it served at our wedding, and name our children Guac and Mole.”

  She throws a chip at me while trying to contain her laughter and then slides the sandwich in front of me. “Now, eat your PB and J and shut up. I slaved all day, making this.”

  I scarf down the two sandwiches she made me and make sure I moan with every bite of her guacamole.

  She looks from side to side. “So … is there anyone else here?”

  “No. Just me today. I’m sure you know, Hudson is feeding Stella strawberries in bed.”

  She laughs. “I booked the room for them. Stella’s been coddling me since our secret came out. I couldn’t handle it any longer.”

  “What secret?”

  She leans forward. “You know.”

  “Which one? I believe we have a few.”

  She narrows her eyes my way. “You know exactly which one I’m referring to.”

  “The one where we’re having twins?” I give her a shit-eating grin. “Or the one where I’ve been eating your pussy?”

  She blushes. “You’ve been doing that? I think I’m in need of a reminder.”

  I smirk. “Oh, I see what’s going on here. You thought you could come here and butter me up with PB and Js to get laid?”

  She shrugs. “Just a little.”

  I point to my chest. “You do know I’m sweaty as fuck?”

  “Let me make you even sweatier,” she whispers with a wink.

  I surge to my feet. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

  Willow slips off her seat and speed-walks to the garage. Her mouth crushes to mine as soon as I lock the shop door behind us. Adrenaline speeds through my blood as she demands more of me, pressing her tongue into my mouth. I’ll never be disappointed to come to work again. This memory will hit me every time I walk in.

  I grunt when I’m pushed back against the wall, and she kisses me harder, owning me, as our tongues slide together. She consumes me. The need of wanting her takes over every thought in my mind. I seethe at the loss of our connection when she runs her lips over the line of my jaw.

  She’s running the show.

  She needs this.

  And I’m a willing participant—anytime, any-fucking-where, any way.

  My hands trail down her body to cup her perfect ass and lift her off the floor. I spin us around, so I have her against the wall now. She wastes no time in grinding against my cock. I do the same against her pussy.

  “God,” she whispers. “Please fuck me. I need it.”

  “Where do you want it?” I grit out.

  She jerks her chin toward the parked car on the other side of the garage. “There.”

  We don’t usually work on cars here, but I’m doing it as a favor for a buddy.

  He’s the one doing the fucking favor now.

  “You want me to fuck you on that car, baby?”

  Her breathing is labored, and she has to speak between breaths. “Yes”—inhale—“right”—exhale—“there.”

  “You want it hard or soft?”

  “Hard. Really hard,” she says against my mouth.

  Heat radiates through my chest when her teeth graze my tongue, and she bites it.

  Oh, yeah. She wants it hard. Rough. Dirty.

  We fumble around until we’re both naked, and I race across the garage and lower her bare ass on the ’67 Chevelle.

  I brush her hair back from her face and don’t make another move until her eyes meet mine. “Willow, you’re beautiful.”

  A bright grin spreads across her mouth when she hears her name, and I tense when her soft hand wraps around my aching cock. My heart hammers against my chest when she guides me into her. My head throws back as a roar rips through me.

  The first move is made by her tilting her waist up, slowly taking in the length of me, and I’m close to losing it when my gaze drifts down to our connection.

  Her pussy juices cover my cock. Her legs are open wide as she takes me in again and rolls her hips in the process. Nothing describes the feeling of watching the girl of your dreams lying on the hood of a car and taking your cock like she owns it.

  “Fuck, you feel good,” I grind out.

  No more taking it slow. I grab her ankles, pull her down the car until she’s on the edge, and slam inside her. She clings to my shoulders and rests her weight on me.

  “I’m there,” she says, her body going weak. “Oh God, I’m there.”

  I keep my focus on her to watch her face. Her mouth opens, a loud moan escaping her, and she clenches around my dick.

  The view of her getting off sets me off.

  My body shakes when I bury my face between her breasts and release inside her.

  We stare at each other, breathing heavily, and she cracks up laughing.

  “Not the best reaction after someone gets you off,” I say, unable to hold back my smile.

  “I so buttered you up with my guacamole.”

  I join her laughter.

  Willow Andrews isn’t just working her way inside me. I’m also falling in love with her.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Willow

  Two paint samples are in my hand as I hold them against a wall in the nursery.

  Red or yellow?

  I want to go with a neutral theme since we don’t know the sex of our babies yet. I drop them onto the floor when my phone rings.

  “Hello?” I answer.

  “Hey,” Dallas says on the other line. “You busy?”

  “Nope, just unpacking the rest of the stuff we bought for the babies and trying to decide what look I’m going for in the nursery.” I balance the phone between my shoulder and ear. “What’s up?”

  “Maven’s preschool called. She’s sick. I’m swamped at the shop, and my parents aren’t available until this evening. Any way you can pick her up and hang out until I get a break from here?”

  “Sure, that’s no problem.”

  He lets out a relieved sigh. “Thank you. I shouldn’t be any later than five. There’s a spare key under the planter on the porch. Make yourself comfortable. There’s plenty of food in the house. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  I throw my hair up in a ponytail, change into shorts and a T-shirt, and hop into my SUV. I don’t realize what I’m about to do until I pull into the parking lot of Maven’s preschool.

  I’m going to his house.

  Holy shit. I should’ve told him I’d bring her back to my place.

  Stepping foot in his house again is something I’ve been putting off even though he’s invited me countless times.

  I take in a breath. I have to get over this fear, right?

  There’s no way I would’ve gotten away with it for too much longer. At least it won’t be in front of Dallas in case I have a panic attack.

  “Hello. You must be Willow,” the older woman behind the desk greets me when I walk through the front door and into the lobby. “Dallas said you’d be picking up Maven.” She picks up the phone and tells the teacher I’m here.

  I look up at the sound of heels coming down the hallway. I recognize the woman from Maven’s birthday party but don’t recall seeing her again after the pregnancy outburst.

  She stops in front of us and rests her hands on Maven’s shoulders. “Hi, Willow.” She gives me a red-lipped smile and holds out her hand. “I’m
Mrs. Lawrence, Maven’s teacher.”

  “She’s my aunt Beth,” Maven corrects.

  I freeze up and blink a few times, noticing the similarities between her and Maven … and Lucy. Mrs. Lawrence—Beth—squeezes Maven’s shoulders.

  She nods. “That I am.” Her voice turns soothing. “I’m Lucy’s sister.”

  I shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  Damn, Dallas has thrown me so many curveballs today, I’m dizzy. I’m meeting the sister of his dead wife and going to the house he shared with said wife.

  “She’s had a fever for the past hour. Thank you for picking her up. It seems everyone is busy or out of town today, and I couldn’t find a sub to come in for me.”

  “It’s fine. I was, uh …” Getting a nursery together for my babies with Dallas. “Off work today.”

  “I feel no good, and I’m sleepy,” Maven whines, rubbing her eyes.

  Beth kisses her cheek before releasing her. “Get some rest, sweetie.” Her attention moves to me. “Please ask Dallas to keep me updated, and don’t hesitate to call if she needs anything.”

  I nod, pressing the back of my hand against Maven’s forehead. She’s warm.

  “Of course.”

  I help Maven into the backseat of my car, and she falls asleep the first few minutes into the short drive to Dallas’s house. Even though I haven’t been back inside of the house since that night, I know where it is. We’ve driven by it dozens of times, and Maven has pointed it out to me.

  I admire the large white farmhouse he restored years ago. There are large gray shutters on each side of the windows and planters under the ones next to the front door. It’s perfectly landscaped with bright pink roses and daisies. It’s a beautiful home.

  The key is under the planter, like he said, and I follow Maven through the front door.

  “Mommy and Daddy always let me sleep in their big bed when I no feel good,” she says, stomping down the hallway. “It’s right down here.”

  Oh, honey, I know where it is.

  I gulp when she opens the door. This is the moment of truth where I find out if I can go forward with Dallas or if I can’t get over him loving another woman. This is where I find out if I’m a quick screw because he’s horny. You don’t have to love someone. Hell, you don’t even have to like them to fuck them.