by Beth Ciotta
Rae palmed her swimming head, trying to make sense of this unexpected turn. “Is this some sort of knee-jerk reaction to the media storm?”
“No.”
“Did your parents suggest—”
“No.” He gave her zipper a playful tug. “Take off your coat and stay awhile. I’ll give you the grand tour. If you hate something, we can change it. Except for my fitness room. That’s off-limits.”
While Luke took her scarf and gloves, Rae slipped off her coat and peeked into the living room. “I don’t know, Luke.”
“I know it’s rustic, but it’s comfortable. Rocky insisted on helping me furnish the place, so I know it’s not ugly. That said I’m not opposed to adding moderate frill. I’ll even let you crowd up the couch with a bunch of those useless little pillows.”
“Throw pillows,” Rae said with a small smile. “I’m not questioning the décor, Luke. I’m wary of the timing. Don’t you think we should let our relationship evolve more before moving in together?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Luke said as he guided her into the heart of the living room, “but between all your impending projects and my work schedule, when will we have a chance to evolve? Sharing a living space makes sense. What better way to get to know every wonderful and irritating detail about one other?”
Rae laughed. “True. Still—”
“Here’s the thing.” Luke stopped as they entered the living room and turned her into his arms. “I like sleeping with you. I like being with you. The thought of coming home to you every night is appealing. Plus … as you get further along in the pregnancy, I want to be close in case you need me.” He shrugged. “For anything.”
His words were so kind they took her breath away. Rather than cry she made a joke. “Such as running out for pickles and ice cream when I have a mad craving in the middle of the night?”
“Couldn’t you at least crave something good? Like cookies and ice cream? Then I could join you.”
Rae hugged Luke tight, desperately wanting what he offered. “You make it sound so tempting, but we’d be jumping out of the frying pan into the fire.”
“So? We may get singed, but we’ll survive. One way or the other.” He gave her a squeeze then took her by the hand. “Let me show you around.”
Rae felt as though she were floating through a dream as Luke toured her around his home. She loved the vaulted ceilings, the rich woodwork, the stone fireplace. The living room was spacious and sparsely furnished with an overstuffed couch, recliner, club chair, and ottoman. She adored the cushioned window seat with its view of nearby evergreens and distant mountains. Now there was a space crying for brightly colored throw pillows! She could sit in that picturesque cubby and read for hours.
She fell in love with the kitchen. The den—not so much. The dining room was nice, but she could make it nicer. Luke’s fitness room was what it was—a room crammed with weights, a treadmill, and various other torture devices.
He steered her upstairs and into the first room on the right. It was sparsely furnished—a futon and what looked to be one of Sam’s handcrafted, hand-painted bureaus. “I thought we could turn this spare room into a nursery. As you see it has a great view of the mountains and plenty of sunlight. I could paint the walls yellow or green—something neutral since we don’t know the sex of the baby and—”
“Okay.”
“Okay to yellow? Or okay to green?”
“Okay to living with you.” Her heart roared in her ears. Her blood sizzled with lust. Hearing Luke talking about their baby’s nursery was an electrifying turn-on!
Zap!
She turned and kissed him and he must have felt the same jolt because Luke swept her off her feet and carried her … somewhere. Rae was too lost in the kiss to take note of his path. Too aware of the way he was holding her, too absorbed in the heady feel of his lips, his tongue. Too crazy in love to think beyond, “Take me.”
Luke laid her down gently. Someplace soft.
Bed, she thought.
He said nothing as he pulled off her boots then slowly peeled off her jeans.
Sexy.
Said nothing as he shucked his own boots and pants. He just watched.
Her.
Hot.
By the time he was completely naked, Rae had stripped off her tunic and bra. Sprawled on the bed, she held out her arms, sighing when he covered her with his warm, hard body.
She was naked and ready. So ready, she exploded on Luke’s first thrust.
He froze, hard and deep inside of her, a bemused look on his face as she shuddered with a lingering orgasm.
“I’m sorry,” she rasped.
“I’m not.” He brushed a kiss over her mouth, smiled. “That was damn hot.”
“Yeah, well…”
“And now I get to work you up all over again.” He smoothed a hand over her face, over the curve of her neck, then down her body as he moved inside her—slow and deep.
Luke took his time and worked her up. Rae’s body responded in wondrous waves, but the most exciting and erotic bonus was the way he held her gaze. Luke looked into her eyes the entire time he made love to her. As if she was the most captivating woman in the world. As if she was the center of his universe. As if …
Rae cried out with an earth-moving orgasm and Luke climaxed right behind her.
Her brain fairly shut down as her body rode a wave of intense euphoria. “Holy—”
“—hell,” Luke finished as he collapsed beside her and pulled her into his arms.
Heart full, Rae struggled to find the right words to express what she was feeling. Description failed her, but words flowed all the same. “I love you, Luke.”
He smiled into her eyes. “I love you, Reagan. Good and true.”
THIRTY-ONE
No two ways about it. Rocky was irritated with the universe.
The relief she’d experienced after learning her dad’s cancer hadn’t progressed had morphed into anger that they’d been faced with that worry at all. Hadn’t her dad suffered enough without having to deal with the fallout of that previous glitchy test? And what about her mom and the rest of the family? Everyone’s nerves were stretched thin. Everyone was distracted. Not just with her dad’s illness but now this thing with Rae. The media thing. The baby thing.
On the plane ride home all her mom talked about was the fact that she now had two grandkids on the way. All her dad talked about was his youngest son and how he’d grown up overnight. Luke buying out Dev and taking over full responsibility of the Sugar Shack was huge. Luke settling down and committing to one woman was enormous. At the rate he was moving, no one would be surprised if Luke ended up marrying Rae before spring. Which brought up talk of Dev and Chloe and their reluctance to commit to a wedding date, although Dev pointed out that if it was up to him they’d elope tomorrow.
It’s not that Rocky didn’t care about her brothers’ lives. She adored them both, but it would have been nice if at least a portion of the family discussion would have centered on Rocky’s impending wedding. She could have brought it up herself, but she was feeling churlish. Not that anyone had noticed. Well, except for Jayce. He’d noticed, but instead of explaining—because it made her feel petty—she’d blamed her grumpy mood on exhaustion.
Now, instead relaxing at home with Jayce and Brewster and putting together the last of her wedding favors, Rocky was immersed in an emergency Cupcake Lover meeting at Harper’s house. A house Rocky had been struggling to redecorate and fully furnish because of Harper’s indecisiveness. A quick look around showed that Sam had made more progress in three days than Rocky had made in three and a half months. His work on the staircase, several doorframes, and the kitchen in general was unmistakable. Pure quality. Pure Sam.
There was, however, little evidence of Rocky’s influence. Not that she hadn’t presented Harper with hundreds of ideas. Another bone of contention.
Just now everyone was gathered in the main living room. Harper and Sam had pulled in chairs from ot
her rooms to create a circle of seating big enough to accommodate twelve people. She’d covered a couple of accent tables and a trunk with fabric samples, surfaces to accommodate paper plates and cups. No one cared that dinnerware was disposable. They were impressed that Harper had gone to the trouble of brewing tea and coffee as well as serving a batch of her own homemade cupcakes. Vanilla cupcakes with strawberry filling. Pretty damned tasty.
“I apologize for the cramped seating,” Harper said. “This house is a work in progress and I’m not set up for entertaining. Obviously. But if everyone’s comfortable—”
“We’re good,” Rocky said, speaking for everyone in order to get this ball rolling. Almost all of the members had arrived within minutes of one another, with the exception of Rae and Luke, who’d been five minutes late.
Considering this had once been the home of one of the original Cupcake Lovers, there’d been a lot of chatter about Mary Rothwell and the fact that she supposedly haunted this place. Not that Rocky had ever seen her ghost, but there was a definite vibe in the house even if only in her mind because of the legend.
Chatter of Mary had naturally segued into the history of the Cupcake Lovers, which segued into talk of the memoir/recipe book, which segued into whether to self-publish, which is when Rae and Luke had arrived, hand in hand, looking ridiculously happy. Since Luke was still a member of the club, he had every right to be here and even more so, Rocky supposed, given his personal relationship with Rae. But Rocky sort of wished her brother would’ve stayed away. Everyone, including Rocky, was keenly aware of Sam’s crush or former crush on Rae. The tension was just plain awkward.
Regardless, everyone settled in and listened intently as Harper relayed what had been said in the media thus far regarding Rae and her humanitarian efforts, followed by Olivia Deveraux’s attempt to sully Rae’s reputation.
All eyes had turned to Rae as she explained in pained detail why she’d lied to her mother about her whereabouts last year and why she’d pretended to be someone else. She shared a little about her childhood and background—which garnered everyone’s sympathy—and then her hopes and plans for the future regarding running Sugar Tots (to be renamed) as well as establishing a foundation that supported select charities.
Rae was composed throughout her explanation, but when she started talking about promoting education and helping people in need, she got all fired up. It was that passion that won over Rocky and everyone else in the room.
Luke looked plain smitten.
“Okay, this is great,” Harper said as she paced around the exterior of the circle. “I mean I know certain aspects are uncomfortable for you, Rae, but I can spin this in your favor and I can do it with grace.”
“Do you always text other people when you’re in the middle of a meeting?” Daisy asked Harper.
Rocky knew everyone had noticed and it was pretty rude—shades of Tasha Burke—but leave it to Daisy to ask outright.
“Busy week,” Harper said without offering an apology. “Don’t worry. I’m a master at multitasking. Just so I’m straight,” she said, still texting whomever. “The Cupcake Lovers have officially and unanimously decided to allow Rae to finance the self-publishing of your memoir/ recipe book. Correct?”
Everyone nodded.
“Based on reasons we’ve discussed to death,” Rocky said as the president of the club, “yes.”
“And based on Rae’s defense, regarding her mother’s attack, everyone believes and supports Rae.”
Another round of nods and murmurs.
“Damn straight,” Casey said.
“We know our Rae’s heart,” Ethel said.
Harper stopped texting and zeroed in on Rae. “Anything else I, we, should know? Any other incident that your mother could twist? Any secret she could possibly use against you if unearthed? Any—”
“I’m pregnant,” Rae blurted.
The ensuing silence was deafening. Rocky, of course, knew. But clearly it was news to everyone else.
Harper looked a little blindsided by the overall tension in the room. Apparently she was unaware of Sam’s famous year-long crush on Rae. Because they’d been holding hands and sitting so closely, the publicist naturally assumed the baby was Luke’s. “And this is, was, a secret because?”
“I’m not even at eight weeks,” Rae explained, cheeks flushing. “The first trimester is unpredictable. I wanted to wait until I was further along before sharing.”
“I felt the same way,” Chloe said in Rae’s defense.
“I would have felt that way,” Monica said. “But you all know my history. When it finally happened I couldn’t wait to shout it to the world.”
“Hold on,” Daisy said and Rocky instantly knew her grandma was doing the math like most of the other CLs. She pushed her glasses up her nose then squinted suspiciously at Rae. “You were living in California eight weeks ago.”
“I went out for a visit,” Luke said.
Daisy reached over and whacked her grandson hard in the back of the head.
Luke grimaced but didn’t comment.
Harper sighed. “So are we happy about this news?”
“Yes,” Luke answered for them both, his gaze firm on Sam.
Everyone was looking at Sam.
Rocky swallowed a huge lump of emotion when her cousin calmly stood and approached Luke.
Luke rose as well. “Be happy for me, Sam.”
Sam pulled Luke into a bear hug, said something in his ear, then broke away, and pulled Rae into a warm hug.
Tension broken, the room erupted into a gabfest of congratulations and baby talk as well Harper’s idea on a spin on Rae’s problem that would also afford free promo for Moose-a-lotta as well as the Cupcake Lovers.
Rocky wondered if anyone realized Harper’s plan fell on the same day the CLs had planned to make Rocky’s wedding cake.
Oh, yeah. She was irritated with the universe big-time.
* * *
NEED 2 TALK 2 U
Sam looked down at his phone then over his shoulder at Harper. For Christ’s sake he was standing in the same room. Still, the senior CLs had her cornered near the front door so she wasn’t exactly free to speak her mind. Sam had lingered, relocating chairs back to various rooms, but now he was itching to leave.
CAN IT WAIT?
NO
Damn.
Sam hung back while Helen, Judy, Ethel, and Daisy finally said their good-byes. He glanced at his watch. Six thirty. Not knowing how long the meeting would take or how things would play out, Sam had hired a sitter to watch Ben and Mina until nine. He wasn’t under the gun, but he was restless.
“That was interesting. Why didn’t you tell me you had a thing for Rae?”
“Maybe you haven’t noticed, but we don’t talk a lot.”
“What did you say to your cousin?”
“None of your business.”
“Chill, Rambo. On another note…” Harper walked past Sam and into the kitchen.
He hated that he watched her ass as she went. What the hell was with her walk anyhow? She didn’t slink or sashay exactly. It wasn’t overt. Just a gentle sway of the hips, just enough to mesmerize him. Cursing his randy reaction, Sam followed. “On another note, what?” he asked, almost tripping on a puddle of red dress near the threshold.
Wearing nothing but a matching silky bra and thong, Harper lounged against the counter in her funky heels, holding a white cupcake in a red foiled baking cup. “Why won’t you try my cupcakes?”
“What?”
“I sent you home with almost a dozen the other day. You didn’t try one. I baked these fresh for tonight. Everyone in the club had one. Everyone but you.”
“I wasn’t hungry.” Sam’s heart rammed against his chest, his cock throbbed. He wasn’t sure why he’d avoided Harper’s cupcakes. Something psychological. He hadn’t given it thought. He would now.
Harper’s blue eyes twinkled with an ornery gleam.
Sam knew that gleam. She was about to torture him with some se
xy deed.
Sure enough she stuck her thumb in the center of the strawberry filled cupcake. Gaze locked on Sam’s, she licked then sensuously sucked the red goo from her thumb. One brow raised, she taunted, “Hungry now?”
Sam was randy and moody and not up for games. He moved in—swift and sure. He took Harper in his arms and ravished that luscious mouth. Sin and strawberries. Hell, yeah.
Her hands worked his belt and buttoned fly while he unclasped her bra. He had her naked and writhing in his arms, kissing her, touching her, just rough enough to rev her senses.
Her damn phone rang. Incessantly.
Sam broke the wild kiss long enough to toss the cell on the top shelf of the fridge. Slamming shut the door, he spun Harper around, bending her over the counter. He splayed his hands down her back, over her ass, her thighs. He kissed the back of her neck, made her sigh, then entered her from behind, and made her squeal.
It was hot.
It was fast.
And it left them both limp and gasping for air.
In the aftermath, Sam was shocked that he’d been so urgent, so selfishly dominant. But when Harper smiled over her shoulder at him, the guilt slid away. He started to speak, but she shushed him.
Right. No talking after.
Screw that.
“What was that for?” he asked as she stepped back into her dress, no undies.
“I was wound up. Also I sensed you could use a distraction.”
With that she shoved her tousled hair out of that beautiful face, grabbed her phone from the fridge, and cast him a parting, enigmatic glance. “See you tomorrow, Sam.”
THIRTY-TWO
Luke had never asked a girl to sleep over in his house. Let alone sleep over every night for, well, hopefully the rest of their lives.
After putting in a full night bartending and hosting at the Shack, he’d returned home around two in the morning to find Rae fast asleep in his bed. She was bathed in a soft wash of moonlight and he could see just enough of her face to know she was sleeping peacefully. She looked content. He liked that a lot. Sam’s words had been ringing in Luke’s ears all night.