She shrugs and smiles. “I have a good feeling.”
I grab her arm, desperate to know if she knows something. “Why? Did you take one last night?” I shoot her a stern stare. “You better not have found out before me. You will definitely get spanked then.”
“Again, not a punishment.” She wiggles her hips and juts out her breasts. “I just have a feeling. The girls are a little more . . . sensitive.”
I groan appreciatively then dart out my hands. “Let me check that sensitivity for you.”
“In a minute!” She shuts the bathroom door, pees, then opens it and holds the stick. The longest two minutes of my life pass . . . till two pink lines appear.
It’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen in my life, and my heart soars.
“In nine months, you’ll be a dad! Now kiss me because I don’t have morning breath.”
“And I don’t care if you do, Mama,” I say, lifting her up in my arms and crushing my lips to hers.
I’ve been kissing this woman for the last five years—through dating and engagement and marriage. But this kiss? This searing, fierce kiss that’s passionate and tender? It’s my new favorite kiss with my wife.
It goes to my head. It goes to my heart. It makes me fall in love with her all over again.
I have a feeling I’ll be doing this every damn day for the next nine months, and then long past that into our future, as baby makes three.
I get down on my knees and press a kiss to her belly. She sighs happily and runs her hands through my hair.
I lean my ear against her stomach and say, “Ah, he just kicked for me.”
Laughing, she playfully pushes me away, saying, “Maybe it’s a girl.”
I rise, drop a gentle kiss to her forehead, then whisper, “Want to go for twins?”
“I don’t think it works that way, baby. But yes, let’s celebrate.”
And we do, and it’s as good as the night we had home-field advantage a few weeks ago.
Wait. It’s even better.
Especially since we share the cupcake when we’re through.
35
Vaughn
A little later
Look, I’m all for ladies first, but that name was a mouthful. We changed it, and now we’re rocking hard as The Premiere Agency, landing marquee athletes left and right and bringing the old faithfuls over from our prior shops. All-star indeed.
We rep Jackson Pierce, who is killing it this summer on the court, so Alicia thinks we’re all the best, as she tells us nearly every day, especially since we inked Jackson a deal as a spokesperson for Caviar. Josh brought over Zane, half the Yankees, and a ton of other major leaguers, while Ford handles a bunch of top football players. Plus, most of my client list from hockey, football, basketball, baseball, and golf joined Premiere. And Haven already had her list of stars.
This gig is epic, and it’s so much better than the prior agency I worked for. I shudder thinking of the last year, when I made some choices I shouldn’t have. But hey, every man has a dark moment in his past.
I’ve put it behind me, and I’ve moved on.
But I’ve made one rule now that I’m on the other side of that bad decision: no romantic entanglements. After the way the last gal messed with my heart, I’m wary of dating and I’m suspicious of love.
And that’s fine, because I have a business to grow, and I have every intention of doing that and only that for the foreseeable future.
Like right now, as I finish a call with the forward for the Rangers. “Feel free to book that trip to Greece with the missus. The deal is done,” I say, then congratulate him once more before I end the call.
I look up to see Josh in my doorway. “Epic work on that deal. You ready for our dinner meeting?” he asks.
“Absolutely.”
We take off for a nearby restaurant to meet his sister. Quinn’s a party planner, and Josh and Haven want to host a holiday party for our clients, and we need to start planning since November is already here.
Josh claps me on the back as we reach the eatery. “Now listen, you shouldn’t believe a thing Quinn tells you about me.”
“Don’t worry. I have sisters. I know how they love to throw brothers under the bus.”
“I love them madly, but they’re also excellent at blaming me for literally everything.”
Inside the restaurant, a woman with flaming red hair waves from the table in the back.
I groan privately.
Why does she have to be a redhead?
Redheads are my weakness. Especially smart, fun, witty, and flirty redheads.
Maybe she’ll be dull, banal, and boring.
After a quick intro, Josh excuses himself for the restroom, and I extend a hand to the woman in question. “Good to finally meet you, Quinn. I hear your parties are the stuff of legend.”
“And I hear you’re the easygoing one in the group.”
I take the seat across from her. “Well, you know what they say—don’t believe everything you hear.”
“Ah, so you’re actually tightly wound, cross, and a total ogre,” she says with a playful glint in her green eyes.
“Absolutely. I’m the worst,” I say with a wink.
“I’ll do my best not to upset the dragon in you, then, when we practice ornament decorating and hot-cocoa tasting.”
I add witty and fun to the checklist. “Wait. Did you just say hot-cocoa tasting?”
“Does that tickle your fancy?”
“No. It sounds awful, horrible, terrible.” I lower my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “How’s that for ogreish?”
She leans a little closer. “You can’t fool me. I can see right through you, and I bet you love hot-cocoa tasting.”
I quirk a brow. “Is that so?”
She smiles like she has a secret. “It’s obvious.”
“And how is it obvious?”
She screws up the corner of her lips, studies me, then issues a verdict. “You look like a man who enjoys sweet things.”
Smart and flirty, check. And that’s it. I’m screwed.
I’m officially screwed, and I’m blaming Josh.
I’m throwing him under the bus for having a sister who’s funny, sexy, and clever, and who loves hot chocolate.
But I’ll just stay far, far away from her. I’m off the market, and even if I wasn’t, I know better than to tango with my new business partner’s sister.
Even though dinner with her is fantastic and we get along so well it should be illegal.
At the end of the meal, Josh turns to me. “I need to head out of town for a week. Any chance you can handle the party stuff? Besides, you’re way better at it than I am.”
“Sure,” I say, and when I look at Quinn, I’m not sure if the parties will be the stuff of legend.
But I already know I’ll need a legendary amount of willpower to resist her.
Epilogue
Josh
A little later
There’s a first time for everything.
Today, it’s for this brand-new T-shirt at Wimbledon.
I had the shirt custom-made on Zazzle. Haven picked the colors. She insisted.
And boy, did she ever go all out.
She picked pink.
Sparkly pink.
With glitter on top.
We enter the stadium and make our way to the best courtside seats, where Alicia practically tackles us. She’s vibrating with jitters.
“You’re here! I’m so nervous I’ve had ten Diet Cokes. But I can’t tell Jackson, so I’m telling you.” She flaps her hands like she’s going to shake out all those butterflies.
“Our boy is going to be great,” I reassure her.
“He’s the best,” Haven seconds. “And no more Diet Cokes for you.”
“You’re right. Cut me off. Don’t let me have any more. Also, you guys are the absolute best! Okay, I need to go take some pics.”
She darts off, and I take my seat courtside to watch Jackson play.
I sit up straight as a ruler next to my woman so the slogan on my shirt is completely visible.
Perhaps Haven thinks she got my goat. But the words are all true. “Haven Delilah is the top sports agent in the country.”
And I wear them proudly, making good on our bet.
“This is it. This is officially the hottest you’ve ever looked,” she says as she runs a hand down my arm.
“Hotter than the night I wore the suit you practically ripped off me?”
She shoots me a confused look. “Which do you mean? That sounds like every night.”
I laugh. “Hotter than the time I went snowboarding with you and you mauled me on the chairlift because you thought I looked hot in a winter jacket?”
“Snow babes are sexy to me. So sue me.”
“Yes, my snow queen.” I wiggle my eyebrows. “And hotter than the time I got down on my knee at Wimbledon and proposed to you?”
She gasps. Clasps a hand to her lips.
I’ve done it. I’ve shocked her. And I will cherish the look on her face right now—her wide eyes, the way they shimmer, the utter joy etched in her features.
I flip open the blue velvet box I’ve pulled from my pocket, and speak from the center of my heart, the core of my soul. “Once upon a time, there was a man and a woman who hated each other. They couldn’t stand each other whatsoever. Every time they ran into each other, they brandished their claws. But in the end, all they had to do was talk it out to realize hate was just another four-letter word for love.” I take a beat, swallow, and continue. “Haven, I want to find you in the dark every night. I want to find you in the light every day. You own my heart and my head, and you have since I met you. I never want to let you get away. Marry me.”
As a tear streaks down her cheek, she nods over and over, choking out her “Yes.” Then she pulls me up, tugs me close, and kisses the hell out of me before the tennis match begins.
When she breaks the kiss, I slide the ring on her finger.
She stares at the diamond solitaire, her smile stretching across the ocean. “It’s beautiful. I love it so much. I love you so much.”
“Good. Let’s keep it that way, partner.”
She smiles again. “Partner.”
We take our seats, and watch our client crush the competition.
* * *
“We brought him good luck with our shirts, don’t you think?” I ask when the match ends in a fantastic victory.
She plucks at hers. “I do look good in your college jersey.”
Number eighty-eight looks sexy as hell on her. She didn’t have to wear it, since technically she won the bet for the rising star. But she said she wanted to, that she’d gladly wear her man’s number.
I play with the hem of the football jersey. “This is the sexiest you’ve ever looked.”
She pretends to be aghast. “Hotter than the night you slipped into my room in the Hamptons?”
“You were beautiful then.”
“And what about the night I showed up at your place to tell you I loved you?”
“You were a stunning vision that time.”
“And even so, this is your favorite?”
“Yes, Mrs. Summers. This is now my favorite, since you said yes to me.”
She leans her shoulder against mine, grinning. “Once upon a time, a guy thought he hated a girl, but the girl knew better. She knew he’d eventually become her husband.”
“There you go. You’re always right.”
“I am.”
* * *
We make our way out of the arena, bumping into Lily, the sports reporter, on the way. She’s walking next to a guy who has his hand on the small of her back. “Hey, Lily!” Haven says. “Long time no see.”
The reporter whips her head around and flashes a smile. “Hey! Good to see you again. This is my husband, Finn Nichols.”
She introduces us to the guy, and we all shake hands.
“Pleasure to meet you all. I heard you were in our hometown earlier this year, and you set the conference on fire.”
“Sparks were indeed flying,” Haven says, then whispers, “Onstage and off.” She waggles her ring. “And look what happened.”
“Congratulations,” Finn says. “Glad to see the sparks turned into the good kind of fire.”
“Let me see that beauty,” Lily says, then oohs and ahhs over Haven’s ring before she meets my fiancée’s eyes. “And now you should ask him to give you an extra special engagement gift.’”
“Oh, should I?” Haven’s eyebrows rise, her tone playful.
“Yes. Just ask him for your deepest fantasy,” Lily says with a wink.
Finn chuckles. “And I’m sure he’ll give it to you.”
I lift my chin. “Is that what you did for your woman?”
“Hell, yeah,” he says, then drapes a possessive arm around Lily.
I flash back to Haven’s comments to Lily after the panel— You go, girl.
When Finn and Lily leave, I ask Haven what the gift was all about.
“Oh, just a little present her guy gave her.”
“Yeah, I figured that much. Her fantasy and all that. What’s the story?”
“I can’t tell you her secrets. But suffice to say, she wanted a particular thing, and he gave it to her.”
I wrap an arm around my fiancée. “As a good fiancé should do.”
Another Epilogue
Haven
A few months later
Time for another show of hands. Is sleeping with the enemy who you’re really, truly, completely, madly in love with a bad idea?
I had no idea if Josh felt the same way about me as I did about him back when we were competing for the next big thing. Part of me was sure it was just sex and only sex, and that I was risking my whole damn heart when we fell into bed again and again.
But it turned out sleeping with the enemy was the very thing that helped me let down my guard. Only then was I able to see how he really felt, and to share at last how I felt too.
And that’s a damn good thing.
Because the man who was my sworn foe has come all the way around to the other side. He’s my colleague, my life partner, and my big love.
But hate sex is indeed awesome.
And we still have it.
Because we like to role-play.
Sometimes we pretend we’re still competitors.
Now and then, we make believe we’re enemies.
And other times, we act like we can’t stand each other. Mostly when he deliberately messes up a French twist or a braid.
That’s when I fume.
And that’s when he narrows his eyes at me.
Then we lunge at each other.
Those games don’t just turn us on. They bring us closer. And even though we’re playing games, we can only do it because we both completely trust each other.
And I do trust him. I trust him with my whole damn heart.
Because he’s earned it, because he cherishes it, and because he laid his on the line for me.
With him, I’d say I’ve won gold, and it’s better this time around.
THE END
Read Lily’s story in the red-hot erotic novella THE ENGAGEMENT GIFT, available now! Vaughn and Quinn’s romance unfolds in the romantic comedy novella SPECIAL DELIVERY. And you don’t want to miss Amy’s romance in ASKING FOR A FRIEND — that’s a yummy office romance with a You’ve Got Mail vibe and you can find this fun, sexy romantic comedy available on all retailers!Be sure to sign up for my newsletter to receive an alert when sexy new books release!
Acknowledgments
Big thanks to Lauren Clarke, Jen McCoy, Helen Williams, Kim Bias, Virginia, Lynn, Karen, Tiffany, Janice, Stephanie and more for their eyes. Goddess love to Helen for the beautiful cover. Thank you to Kelley and Candi and KP. Massive smooches to Laurelin Paige for access to her brain and heart. As always, my readers make everything possible.
Also by Lauren Blakely
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