Simply Austin
Page 5
"You're full of it, MacDougall." She sighed and closed her eyes. "Luckily for you, I want children. But not a dozen. And not half a dozen, either. As you know full well. I'm too old for bearing that large a brood, anyway. If I remember right, we agreed on two or three."
I squeezed her hand. "We'll discuss the exact number later. For now, get some rest." I leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Because when I come to bed, you'll be needing your full energy, if you catch my meaning."
She returned the squeeze. "I'll hold you to that."
I changed into swim trunks, slid silently out of the room, and turned out the lights. On my way to join the guys, I got a text from my lawyer, Perry Burns.
Watch your backside. Randy Dixon has evaded arrest and given the authorities the slip. They believe he left the country.
A chill ran down my spine. Where would Randy have gone? Slipped across the border into Canada? That was easy enough to do.
Perry wasn't necessarily warning me about physical danger. But Randy was dangerous all the same—he was desperate and wanted revenge on me for imagined crimes I'd committed against him. I texted Perry my thanks and asked him to keep me informed.
The guys and I had strengthened our cyber-defenses surrounding all of our personal accounts and projects as a precaution. But I didn't like the thought of Randy slipping away. I'd hoped to see him arrested and tried for treason with the evidence we'd provided.
I found the guys relaxing in the hot tub on the sundeck, enjoying the promised ale, and pushed thoughts of Randy away for now.
"That was fast. Back so soon?" Cam said. "We didn't expect you to rejoin us."
I slipped into the hot tub with the guys.
"You're going to have to do better on your wedding night," Dylan said.
"Shut up," I said. "Blair was tired."
"Had a headache already, huh?" Cam said. The guys all knew about her head injury and tiptoed around the possible implications of it. "You're in serious trouble if the excuses are starting so soon."
Dylan shook his head and passed me a bottle of ale. "Seriously. Congrats, dude. You're the first of us to take the plunge."
"He hasn't plunged yet," Jeremy said. "I always thought Lazer would be first." He slid Lazer a sidelong glance. "Despite his player ways, he was the only one of us who seemed like he had a chance before Ashley got hold of us."
I raised my bottle. "To Ashley!"
"To Ashley," the men said in unison.
"And Lazer." I tipped my bottle to him. "Thank you for hiring her and getting us out of our rut."
"To Lazer."
He nodded, taking a sitting bow. "And thanks to you, I now owe Ashley a bonus for making a successful match. One down."
"She didn't exactly make this match," Dylan said, puffing up and looking even larger than usual. "If I remember right, I introduced them." He held his hand out and rubbed his palm, looking for cash.
Lazer rolled his eyes. "Ashley coached and facilitated. All you did was bring a doctor."
"Hey. Good doctors are hard to find, especially in the middle of Comicon," Dylan said.
Lazer ignored him and looked around the group. "What are the rest of you waiting for?"
"Seriously, Lazer," I said, "you should marry Ashley before she gets away. She's a beautiful single woman in a city desperate for ladies."
"Who says I won't?" he said.
"You'll have to do it in a hurry." I grinned at the guys. "I'll be a married man by the end of the trip."
"What?" the guys all said at once.
I told them what Blair and I wanted. They were eager to offer their services in planning.
"I guess this means we'll have to get our kilts pressed," Cam teased.
"Can non-Scots wear kilts to weddings?" Jeremy said. "We want this all to be legal. No wiggling out for you." He pointed at me. "What does the best man wear to an elopement in Scotland?"
"Best man!" Cam gave him narrowed eyes and knocked him on the shoulder. "What makes you think he'll pick you?"
"I'm more suited than you are," Dylan said. "I have more experience tagging cars."
"Lazer paid for the matchmaker. By all rights, he should be best man." Jeremy was always the one with a sense of justice. "If I remember right, that was his condition for paying for the matchmaking—he gets to be best man at all the weddings."
The other guys nodded and agreed.
And so my best man was voted in by his peers, making my decision easy. No one's feelings were hurt. I turned to Lazer. "Lazer? What say you, man? Best man?"
"I thought you'd never ask," he said.
"To Lazer," Cam said. "Always a best man, never a groom."
"And I expect to be best man at least three more times," he said.
"Do Scottish brides snap garters to the unmarried men?" Dylan pointed to the others. "If Lazer's going to get his wish, I know a few guys who need some help getting him there."
"Blair's an American/English bride," Lazer said.
"Fine, then." Cam took a swig of beer. "She can put the garter on a soccer ball for Austin to throw at us instead of a football."
"At you is exactly right," I said. "I'm going to bean you with it if the rest of you don't get with the program and start getting serious about the matchmaking Lazer paid for. We made a pact—we all find wives together."
Jeremy pursed his lips to the side. "We did, gents. We did."
Cam lifted his bottle. "To renewed pursuit of women."
"I'll drink to that." Dylan chugged the rest of his ale and grabbed another bottle from a cooler resting on the edge of the hot tub.
"Back to the wedding," I said. "I need the help of all of my groomsmen to pull this wedding off. Blair and I have already submitted our marriage application and put in a query to the Famous Blacksmiths Shop about booking a date. I'm not sure exactly what services the venue offers. We haven't checked that out yet. But I need flowers. I have to buy her a bouquet. And there's the reception after. A gift for Blair…"
"I'm willing to bet they have everything but Elvis. If you were wanting to be married by the king, you're out of luck." Jeremy hopped out of the hot tub, toweled off, and opened a laptop that was sitting on a table nearby. "Let's check it out."
He began reading the FAQs off the site. "Huh. Non-Scots are welcome to wear kilts. Even the groom. You don't even have to be of Scottish descent."
The guys gave him two thumbs up and hooted their approval.
"What plaid are we going to wear, boys?" Cam asked. "The MacDougall clan plaid? The Sinclair's?"
"I vote Sinclair." Dylan batted his eyes like a girl and pitched his voice high. "It's prettier."
"But I look better in the MacDougall colors," Cam said.
Haha. Haha.
I rolled my eyes. They were having fun at my expense, but I let them.
"The marriage ceremony only takes twenty minutes." Jeremy looked at me. "You can handle that."
More thumbs up.
"Do we get to kiss the bride?" Dylan asked.
"I think in Scotland you get to kiss her twice," Cam said.
"Let me look it up." Jeremy put on a serious expression and scrolled. "It doesn't say. We'll just have to take Dylan's word for it. However, they do say they have a resident piper to play for the ceremony."
"I take it they mean a bagpiper," Cam said.
"What other kind of piper could they mean?" Jeremy said. "A pied piper?"
"What is a pied piper, anyway?" Cam held his hands up.
Lazer watched, amused. "Personally, I was hoping the groom would do the piping." He nudged me.
Cam shuddered. "Anything but that. If you value our ears and hearing, you'll pay the piper extra. Ha! Time to pay the piper. Maybe that's where the saying came from, do you think?"
"You know, Blair's half English," Lazer said. "The traditional English wedding cake is fruitcake."
That elicited a bunch of shudders and fruitcake jokes.
"Suck it up, boys. Unless you want to offend Blair, you're going to have to
learn to like fruitcake in the next few weeks."
"I'm going to eat on the American side of the cake," Jeremy said. "Chocolate." He pointed at me. "That's my buddy's fave."
An alarm went off on his computer, shutting everyone up.
Jeremy squinted at his screen. His face clouded. "Damn, men. We're under cyberattack. Man your battle stations."
Cam, Dylan, Lazer, and I jumped out of the tub and grabbed our towels, ready to hit the deck running. Our laptops and gear were in the media room several decks below.
"Dixon escaped arrest. I got a text from Perry on my way up here. The authorities don't know where he is." I toweled my hair. "He could be behind this. He's getting desperate."
"That douche Dixon isn't going to penetrate our defenses and frame you again, Austin." Dylan slapped me on the back. "We're going to bring that fucker down."
I grabbed my phone and followed the guys down the spiral staircase to the media room. On my way, I got a text from Nigel. All hell was breaking loose at once.
I couldn't read the entire message before the screen went dark. I typed in my security code and hit the message icon. Nigel's message popped up.
I suppose Blair's told you about the baby she lost. The baby she thought was mine, mate. She was so sorry, in tears, really, when she apologized for miscarrying. Well, it was the fault of the damn car that sent her flying, wasn't it? You'll know I was very comforting.
What lies did you tell her to get her to run away with you like that? Congrats on stealing her away from beneath my nose. Score one for you.
I'm not going to lie down and take this. Prepare to do battle. I hope you have a good solicitor. I have informed the authorities that you kidnapped her.
Chapter 5
Blair
There was something wrong. I felt it immediately. Austin sat too heavily on the bed, as if he intended to wake me. I came awake, slowly, groggily, and reached for him. I expected him to tumble into bed naked and ready for action, as he'd promised. But he sat mute and slumped on the edge of the bed, head bent, hands clasped in his lap, still dressed in his swim trunks and T-shirt.
"Austin? What's wrong?" I sat up.
His back was to me. He shook his head. "Was there a baby, Blair?"
Oh, damn. There was no pointing in denying it.
"Yes." I sighed and moved up close behind him, resting my hands on his shoulders and my head against his back, hoping he'd understand. Honesty seemed like the best course of action. "So they tell me. I don't remember it. I don't remember being pregnant. I don't remember knowing I was pregnant. Or taking a pregnancy test. Not even suspecting I was. And I'm a physician. I should have suspected." I still wondered why I hadn't. "I miscarried on the way to the hospital after the accident. There was nothing anyone could do." I paused. "Who told you?" I had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn't Beth.
"Nigel."
"Nigel?" I silently cursed him. "How?"
"He texted." Austin turned around suddenly. "Damn it, Blair. You know what it feels like to hear about your baby from another guy? To hear you thought the baby was his?" His voice broke. His heart, battered now, was clearly on his T-shirt sleeve.
"No," I said. "I don't know. I don't imagine it's much more pleasant than having your doctor tell you that you lost a pregnancy you can't remember." I lowered my voice. "I'm sorry. That sucks. I could kill Nigel for it." I paused. "But I shouldn't be surprised. It's not something the Nigel I thought I knew would do. But it's what the Nigel I'm glad I escaped from is perfectly capable of."
I wrapped my arms around Austin. "I was going to tell you. There just hadn't been a good time yet. I didn't want to break any of the beautiful moments you created for me. How could I dampen them with sadness?"
I hesitated. "I suppose I should have told you before I accepted your proposal. But in front of the guys?" I swallowed hard. "Would it have made a difference?"
He didn't look at me. "Did you want it? Are you sad you lost it?"
"I didn't know about it until it was gone," I said as gently as I could. "I don't remember it at all. I don't remember the point of impact of the accident. I don't remember the ambulance. Or lying in the street. I don't remember Nigel coming to my rescue. And I don't remember miscarrying."
I hugged him tighter. "If I'd known I was pregnant, I would have told you. How could I keep it from you? Of course I want your babies. Why wouldn't I? And we'll have them. This miscarriage did nothing to prevent them. It caused no permanent damage. The doctor assured me of that. At least we know we can get pregnant."
I kissed the back of his neck. "You have to understand how confusing everything was until you showed up again on the beach and rescued me. The only reason I ever thought Nigel was the father was because I had a nasty bang to the head that sent me back in time to a time before I knew you." I tried to sound light.
"Did Beth know?" Austin said. "Does Beth know?"
"She didn't until the doctor told her I'd miscarried."
He seemed to take that in. He turned and looked at me over his shoulder. "I feel like I've been punched in the gut."
I nodded. "By me? I'm sorry." My heart pounded so loudly in the quiet room that I was sure he could hear it. But he didn't ask for his ring back.
"By fate. By that bastard Nigel. If he gets anywhere near you again—"
"He won't." I stroked his hair reassuringly. "Not if I can help it."
"Nor I. I'm sorry," Austin said. "About the baby. That you lost it. About not being there for you. Next time—"
"I hope there won't be a next time. Not for a miscarriage. Next time I'm pregnant, I hope we both know." I gently lifted his shirt to expose his back. "I hope we're happily trying and giving the effort everything we've got." I massaged his shoulders and slid my arms around him to play with his nipples and playfully bite his shoulder. To suck on it, and tease it with my tongue, licking his salty bare skin.
"I hope you see the signs and suspect. I hope you tell me you think I'm with child before I even realize myself. That you see my nipples growing larger, rounder, and darker." I stripped out of my nightgown and pressed my bare breasts and budded nipples against the firm muscles of his back. "That you feel the new heft of my breasts and notice how large and enticing they've gotten. That you notice the glow expectant mothers are supposed to have."
I ran my hands over his biceps and whispered in a low, suggestive voice as I slipped out of my panties. "I promise to tell you first." I slid my legs around him and locked them around his waist. "You're tired," I whispered in his ear. "You've only had a few hours' sleep in the last forty-eight hours. Come to bed."
He grabbed the hem of his T-shirt, which was pushed up under his arms, preparing to take it off, impeded only by me as I pressed tightly against him. I helped him pull the shirt over his head, kissing his back and shoulder, scratching his chest from behind. I relaxed my grip around his waist and slid my legs next to his, sitting behind him, cradling him, straddling him from behind, rubbing against him, about ready to purr as the tips of my breasts met the hard muscles of his back. If he didn't take me there, I was going to take him. What a wonder a few hours of sleep can be for a person's energy level.
His back was tense and taut, his breathing shallow and excited. He slid out of his swim trunks, having only a bit of trouble getting them over his erect dick, and sat naked on the edge of the bed, silhouetted against the half-circle of windows behind him.
I wrapped my arms around him, letting my breasts meet his bare back, and took his dick in my hand, stroking it slowly from behind as I trailed kisses over his back.
"How tired are you, Blair?"
"How tired do you think?" I said, my breathing shallow now, my voice deep with desire. "If I had a dick, I'd be inside you by now."
In one sudden, fluid move, he pried himself from my grip, spun around, and laid me on my back. "But since you don't…"
I spread my legs for him and laughed softly, eyeing his magnificent throbbing member, as I liked to teasingly call it, hungrily. "At this
moment, I'm only too happy that one of us does. And that one is you. That's a fine display of manhood. Now stop teasing and show me what you can do with it." I reached for him. But it was really unnecessary.
He grabbed my hips, slid me to the edge of the bed so that my legs dangled over, and pleasured me with his fingers. He grinned as he felt my wetness. "You don't need any warmup."
"That I don't."
He entered me quickly and forcefully. Hungrily. Damn, we were both hungry. I gasped at the instant, intense pleasure. The angle he was at stroked all the right spots. I pulled my knees up, wrapped my legs around his waist, and locked my heels into the small of his back, urging him in. Not that he needed urging. He thrust forcefully and rapidly. Like a rutting bull.
But I was no better. I wanted him that badly. Urgently. I arched up, letting my breasts point to the skylight and stars shining through above us, watching his face fill with passion, backlit by the moon and stars in the skylight above him and the night sky behind him. This man, this big, beautiful, rutting man, was mine. All mine.
Last night our lovemaking had been gentle and tame. This time we were rough and passionate. Unbridled. Letting our joy and our hurts out.
My climax came before I was ready for it. The build was so exquisite that I wanted it to last forever. To be suspended in this moment with him. But when I came, I came as hard as our lovemaking and with the same urgent intensity. I cried out.
"Damn it, Blair," he said. "Wait for me." He thrust hard again, holding my hips tightly to keep me in place. He grunted suddenly, every muscle taut. He threw his head back and held me, rocking into me, the veins showing in his neck. Holding his breath. Finally, he sucked in a long breath. "You make me weak in the knees, Blair," he said on a ragged breath.
I released my grip on his back and rested my heels on the bed, scooting my butt backward toward the center of the bed. "Move with me. We can't have you collapsing onto the floor. I'll never get you up."
"I'm not ready to pull out yet," he said, keeping a firm grip on my hips.
"Then you'll just have to stay in while we scoot."
"You think I'm a contortionist?"
"I have great faith in your abilities, let's say." I slid back.