One More Step

by Colleen Hoover

  I shake my head. “I guess to appease my mom. I haven’t dated much in the past two years. I don’t know if she told you, but I was engaged and on the night of our engagement party, I caught my fiancé and my best friend having sex. I just didn’t trust my judgment anymore, so I kind of just gave up.”

  “Holy shit, that’s terrible. Was it a one-time thing?”

  I shake my head. “No, but I’m actually thankful I found out because he got her pregnant and last I heard, he’s been sleeping with everyone but her since. What about you?”

  Walker turns so we’re face to face. “Nothing like that. I’ve had a couple relationships, but they just never went anywhere. School was tough and I tried getting serious once, but it’s hard to do when you’re busy studying all the time. There just hasn’t really been anyone that has piqued my interest until now.” That last part he says quietly and I swear a shiver runs down my spine.

  My teeth press into my bottom lip and I don’t miss the way his eyes zero in on it. Fuck, I really want him to kiss me, but not in Starbucks. “Do you want to get out of here?” I can’t believe I just said that.

  He doesn’t say anything. He just stands up, grabs my hand, and practically pulls me out of the store. We’re both quiet as he leads me to his Explorer. We stop at my door and he leans in a little. “Can I kiss you right now?”

  I only nod once before his lips slam down on mine. I swear to God, stars appear behind my closed lids as he controls the kiss. My mouth opens just enough to brush my tongue against his lips. Walker’s fingers spear through my hair, holding me in place as his tongue duals with mine.

  All too soon he slows down our kiss and then pulls away. “Wow,” he whispers.

  I can’t even speak; all I know is I want to do more of that. I reach up, touching his lips ever so softly and then push up onto my tiptoes to kiss him again. This kiss is softer, sweeter, and I feel it all the way down to my toes.

  “Come home with me?” Walker reaches out, stroking my cheek with his thumb. “We don’t have to do anything, but I’m not ready to end this yet.”

  “Okay,” I say on a sigh because I’m not ready to leave him either.

  He helps me into the SUV and then walks around to his side. When he climbs in, he grabs my hand, lacing our fingers. I’m so glad I took an Uber to the restaurant, so I don’t have to worry about my car. The tension inside the SUV is thick and I swear my breasts haven’t stopped tingling since he kissed me.

  We pull into the driveway of a two-story red brick house with white shutters and a huge porch. There’s a light on and I see a little furry head pop up in the window and smile. That must be Chloe, waiting to greet her daddy.

  Walker comes around helping me down. “I’m gonna warn you that she gets really excited around new people.”

  “No worries. I love dogs.”

  I’m not sure what to expect when I walk inside, but I’m pleasantly surprised to see that it’s very homey. The entryway has a coat rack and a wooden bench covered in a dark tan cushion and hardwood floors as far as the eye can see. I hear the click, click, click of toenails on the floor.

  Chloe comes tearing around the corner and immediately barrels into me, her entire butt wagging as she greets me. I get down on my knees and scratch behind her ears. “Aren’t you a pretty girl.” She does a sneak attack and licks my face.

  “Chloe, get back, crazy. I’ll let her out really quick.” Walker grabs Chloe by her collar and leads her toward the back of the house.

  I step farther into his home and see that he’s got a huge flat screen above a beautiful red brick fireplace. A taupe colored couch with thick cushions and a thick navy blue fleece throw hangs over the back. On his bookshelf are photos, but before I can look too closely, I hear the fast click, click, click of dog nails. This time she just bumps into my legs.

  “Hi baby,” I coo and scratch behind Chloe ears again—she really likes that.

  Walker comes in and places his hand on the small of my back, tingles shoot up and down my spine. I try to focus on the pictures and not his hand, but it’s really, really hard. I pick up a photo of Walker and another guy.

  “Is this your brother?” Of course it is because they look so much alike.

  “Yep, that’s Weston.” He grabs another photo. “Here’s Heather and the kids.”

  I smile. She and the kids are beautiful.

  I grab a picture and grin. It’s Walker and his brother, covered in mud, wearing bandanas around their heads. “Did you do a Tough Mudder race?”

  “We did. A bunch of our buddies got together and created a team. I couldn’t walk for two days after. I was so fucking sore, but it was so much fun. How about I give you a tour?” He grabs my hand and then leads me to the kitchen, which looks like he’s in the middle of renovating. Two French doors lead to a large deck, and down the stairs is a fire pit and huge yard.

  Off the kitchen is a room with a treadmill and weights—I’m not surprised because look at him, he’s got a great body.

  Up the stairs are three bedrooms and a full-sized bathroom. The master bedroom has a king-sized bed in it and the standard bedroom furniture, all dark stained wood, with a master bath and a walk-in closet I’d kill for.

  I turn to smile up at him. “Your place is beautiful.”

  Walker brushes my hair back and leans down, kissing me. I immediately open my mouth to his seeking tongue. I moan into his mouth as it brushes against mine. He pulls back. “You’re beautiful.” He kisses me and then pulls back until our lips are barely touching. “Tell me to take you home or I’m not going to let you leave.”

  I don’t answer him. Instead, I take a step back and untie the ribbon that is keeping the soft material of my dress together and let the fabric slip from my body, pooling at my feet.

  “Wow,” is all he says before I’m in his arms with his lips on mine.

  • • •

  “…and we lived happily ever after.” My babies all smile up at me when I finish telling them the story of how I met their dad. Of course, it’s the G-Rated version.

  I, of course, don’t tell them that Walker and I spent the whole weekend in bed—only getting up to eat and to play with Chloe.

  They do know, even though I don’t think they totally understand, that our relationship was a whirlwind. We moved in together three months after our first date, engaged after six months, and then we got married on the year anniversary of the day we met.

  Our first date was seven years ago, and is still one of the best days of my life. Our daughter Bella was born nine months after we got married; we were not expecting it, but thrilled nonetheless. Our daughter Amelia was born two years later, and our youngest, Alex, named after my dad, was born a year and a half after her.

  “Mommy?” Bella asks from her bed.

  “Yes, baby?” I move and sit next to her, brushing her hair back—the way their daddy always does to me.

  “Is Daddy your prince?”

  I smile and shake my head. “Nope, he’s my king and I’m his queen. You and your sister are our little princesses and that little stinker”—I point to Alex who is lying with Amelia and Chloe, who loves her sisters and brother—“is our prince. Give me a smooch.” I bend down and kiss my daughter before going to my other girl and kissing her.

  I pick Alex up, who is fading fast in my arms and turn to leave the room, finding my gorgeous husband leaning against the doorframe. I stop next to him. “They wanted to hear the story again.”

  Walker leans down and kisses me. “Of course they did. It’s a great story. I’ll tuck the girls in and meet you in bed.”

  I smile. “It’s a deal.” He bends down and kisses Alex’s chubby little face and then disappears into the girls’ room.

  I get our boy all tucked in. He likes his sleep, so it takes no time at all before his breathing deepens and I know he’s out.

  When I step into our bedroom, I find my sexy beast lying on top of the covers in his boxer briefs. I shut our door and strut over to him, trying to be sex
y, but failing—I start to giggle as I climb into bed with him.

  Walker wraps his arms around me, hugging me to his side. “They eat that story up, don’t they?”

  “Yeah, but it’s a good story, it’s our story.” I smile at him.

  “You’re damn right, baby. I love you, you know that, right?” He bends down, kissing me sweetly on the lips.

  I nod and he rolls us so he’s on top of me between my thighs. Walker then goes about showing me with his body how much he loves me.

  This is our story, and each time a chapter ends, I can’t wait to see what the next chapter brings.

  THE END

  Check out more titles by Evan Grace

  http://www.authorevangrace.com

  ABOUT EVAN GRACE

  A Midwesterner and a readaholic most of her life until one day an idea came into Evan’s head and a writing career was born. She's a sucker for happily ever afters and loves creating fictional worlds that others can get lost in. She loves putting her characters through the ringer, but loves when they get to that satisfying, swoony ending.

  When the voices in her head give it a rest, which isn’t often, she can always be found with her e-reader in her hand. Some of her favorites include, Aurora Rose Reynolds, (the queen) Kristen Ashley, Kaylee Ryan, Natasha Madison, and Harper Sloan. Evan finds a lot of her inspiration in music, movies, TV shows and life.

  She's a wife to Jim and a mom to Ethan and (the real)Evan, a weightlifter, a home healthcare scheduler, and a full-time author. How does she do it? She'll never tell.

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  HAIL MARY

  * * *

  JB SALSBURY

  ONE

  Spider

  ONE MORE STEP would mean certain death.

  Naked, with my dick and balls held protectively in my hands, I stand eye-to-eye with the man who could end my life as I know it. I sway on my feet, dizzy from the combination of last night’s tequila and middle of the night confusion.

  “Coach?” My nuts retreat further into my body as I mutter the word. To some, it’s just a title. To those of us on the Bear State University football team a more accurate translation would be “God.”

  “What the fuck are you doing in my house at two o’clock in the morning with your dick in your hands?” He’s in a t-shirt and his shorts standing at the edge of his bed.

  I left the warm cocoon of a woman’s bed to take a piss. Stumbling down the dark hallway, I must’ve been turned around and walked into the wrong bedroom.

  “I…” I swallow hard and feel the burn of last night’s booze crawl up my throat.

  “Never heard you struggle for words before, Spider. You have a stroke?” His voice shakes like it does when I throw an interception with thirty seconds left in a game.

  “I think maybe I have, Coach.” God’s honest truth. Everything above the neck feels like I’m in a dream while everything below is reacting in a violent flight response.

  He takes a calculated step forward making me flinch. “Emery.”

  “What?”

  His glare widens and even in the dim light I see fire in his eyes. His jaw clenches and unclenches.

  I grip my junk a little tighter once I realize what I’ve done. I never did get her name. “Emily, yeah—”

  “Emery you fucking scumbag!” He’s on me before I can blink, his big-ass hand wraps around the back of my neck as he pushes me out of his room, down the hallway and into his daughter’s bedroom. With a flip of a light switch the foggy details from last night are exposed under one-hundred-volt wattage.

  Emery jerks upright in bed and the sheet falls to expose her breasts. I groan at the bright purple hickeys that mar her pale skin. “Oops.” She makes no effort to cover herself and I wince as Coach’s grip crushes my cervical vertebrae.

  My jacket is on the floor, jeans in a heap at the foot of her bed, and my t-shirt hangs off her headboard. If I thought I could lie and say it was a team prank that sent me into Coach’s bedroom naked in the middle of the night, the evidence blows my chances of escaping the truth out of the water.

  “What did I say when I agreed to let you live with me?” He punctuates the question spoken to his daughter with a sharp squeeze to my neck. I never knew he had a daughter. I always assumed the guy was a life-long celibate because the pent-up sexual frustration made him more of an angry asshole and it’s a fact that angry assholes win games. “I said no fuckin’ around!”

  Emery’s glare tightens. “You don’t get to dictate what I do with my body!”

  “I sure as fuck can when that body is livin’ under my roof!”

  “No, you can’t,” I chime in. “It’s still her body.”

  “Shut up, Theodore.”

  My muscles tense at the sound of his anger wrapped around every syllable of my full name, bringing me back to when I was a scrawny, helpless kid.

  He gives me a shake. “You manipulated your way into my innocent daughter’s bed?”

  Innocent? Didn’t seem so innocent when she had her tongue down my throat and her hand in my pants jacking me off on the dance floor.

  I was at Henley’s bar with my team doing shots to celebrate a winning game. I thought she was just another jersey chaser. I stare at her now, all that blonde hair, pale blue eyes and creamy skin flushed from a night of sin. She’s like a fallen angel, a corrupted soul wrapped in an armor of virtue.

  “Put your clothes on and get the fuck out of my house.” Coach shoves me forward and the forceful blow is so familiar it would usually trigger a violent response.

  Instead, I smile at the conniving snake in the Barbie mask. “Touché.”

  Her gaze darts to mine and a flicker of a smile touches her lips.

  “Don’t fucking talk to her!” Coach is seething at the door watching my every move as I snag my clothes from around the room.

  I don’t bother covering up as I slide my jeans up my thighs, commando, just as I was last night. I figure I’m already dead why not give the woman one last look at—

  Coach’s left hook comes from nowhere and I stumble back holding my jaw. Emery is out of bed, her sheet wrapped around her as she rushes to my aid. “Are you okay?” She whirls around to her dad before I can answer. “Get out!”

  “You’ll have to drag my dead body out of here to get me to leave before he does!”

  Emery drops her sheet giving her dad a full-frontal he’ll never forget.

  “Dammit, Em,” he says scrambling to pick up the sheet and cover her with it.

  She leaves her arms to her sides so the bed sheet falls again to her feet. “I’m naked and need privacy,” she says with no inflection in her voice. “Leave right now or I’ll call Uncle Steve and tell him how you insisted on watching me dress.”

  All six-foot-three, two-hundred and eighty-five pounds of Coach Brawley turns on a dime, storms from the room, and slams the door so hard I hear wood crack. I stare in awe at the fiery little blonde. I’ve never seen Coach bow to anyone. I think she could be the devil.

  In one quick move she ties the sheet back around her and turns to me. “Are you hurt?” There’s no tenderness in her voice, and for the first time, I see a little of her dad in her.

  “No.” I rub my jaw feeling only a mild ache and grin. “I can take a punch.”

  She snags my t-shirt and tosses it to me. “Sorry about my dad.” Again, not a lot of feeling in those four words.

  “Are you?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  I shrug and shove my phone and wallet into my back pockets. “That I’m
not stupid.” My gaze tightens on her. “You used me.”

  “You used me too.”

  I can’t argue that. One-night stands have their perks—no attachments, a hell of a lot of fun, and plenty of orgasms. “Why didn’t you tell me you were Coach Brawley’s daughter?”

  She lifts a brow. “I thought you said you weren’t stupid.”

  “Why me? There were twenty other football players in the bar last night.”

  She eyes the colorful tattoos on my arms, the inked skull on my throat, and the piercing in my lip.

  “Clean cut dude wouldn’t cause a big enough stink, huh?” I chuckle. “Smart. But you didn’t know I’d stumble into his bedroom by accident.”

  “He wakes up at four-thirty every morning. I’d planned to seduce you at four-thirty-five and make sure he heard.”

  “That’s some sick ass shit.” I’m strangely attracted to the idea of it. But then, I’ve always been attracted to the deranged.

  With my hand on the doorknob, knowing Coach is standing on the other side like a bull ready to charge, I say, “For what it’s worth, that thing you do with your tongue—”

  The door swings open and Coach roars, “Out!”

  Emery bites her lips, but I catch the way the corners tip up on the ends.

  This chick is a fucking psycho.

  I kind of like it.

  TWO

  Spider

  “HOW DID YOU do on the topology exam?” Rowan, my teammate Carey’s girlfriend, is a spunky little redhead with an insane IQ.

  After getting bored of last year’s computer science major I switched to civil engineering and found myself in the same class as Rowan. Little did I know she’s as competitive in the classroom as her boyfriend is on the field.