by Liz Crowe
She opened her mouth, but the sound of a knock on the door forced her to her feet. He rose and helped reassemble her dress.
“Time to head to the church, Paige,” her father boomed. “You too, Joey.”
He winced. “Yes, sir,” he responded swiftly, holding off her wildly flailing hands. “We were just, ah, playing cards, you know, to pass the time.”
“Yes, son, I’m sure. Now, let’s get to Leslie and Robert’s wedding. Time for more card playing later.”
Joey groaned and ran a hand down his face. Paige had her knuckles stuffed in her mouth to keep from laughing. He frowned at her but then chuckled. “I mean it,” he said before he opened the door, once they’d confirmed they had on all their clothes and weren’t sporting any random, giveaway stains or damp spots. “We’re going to tell everyone the truth.”
“Fine, fine,” she said, letting her fingers trail along his jaw. “Anything for you, handsome.” He grinned and kissed her knuckles. “And you should know, you’re the only reason I feel like I can stay here with these crazy people and not go completely insane. So, thanks for that.”
“Anytime, my love,” he said, feeling as if he was meant to say words like that to her forever. “Anytime.”
Chapter Ten
Paige had never been the sort of little girl who dreamed of a handsome prince or a knight in shining armor who would find her, discover how awesome she was, and make her happy the rest of her life. Her own parents had had their fair share of marital bumps, including this most recent, super bizarre one. And she had more friends whose parents were divorced than not growing up.
Her early forays into dating had been inauspicious. She’d never once felt the way she thought she should feel about a guy, not even the one she dated the longest during the last year and a half of college. It’s not that she didn’t have great sex. She made a point to do that, feeling it was her right.
In short, she honestly believed herself to be enough of a cynic about men and relationships, in general, to remain above it all, to sneer at her little sister’s dream wedding and her equally dreamy fiancé. When she’d run into Joey Preston, literally, at the airport a mere twenty-four hours prior, he’d been interesting, and cute as hell, and ultimately intriguing with his weird, old-fashioned resistance to her.
Of course, he’d made the first move, sneaking into her teenaged bedroom and having his way with her. She smiled at him now as he held a little girl’s hands and let him dance with her tiny feet on top of his shoes.
“Dear Jesus, did he, like, drop out of the sky or something?”
Paige turned to see Angelique, her face flushed from booze, in the seat next to her. “Actually, he sort of did.”
“I heard from one of my idiot brothers it was a dating site,” Angelique said, grabbing a sweating, plastic water bottle from an ice bucket next to the table.
“No. We just met yesterday, at the airport. During the fog.”
Angelique paused with the bottle halfway to her mouth. She grinned and sipped, then set the bottle down. “No shit,” she commented, turning to look at Joey again. He’d lost his mini partner and was now dancing with Caroline DiFerrari, making her giggle and blush like a school girl.
“No shit,” Paige said, following Angelique’s gaze to him—her very own prince charming and knight in shining armor, all rolled up into a hot, cute, polite package.
“Well, then, I am officially jealous of you, Paige DiFerrari.”
“Yeah, be jelly, sister. I’m never letting that man go.”
At that moment, he glanced over at them and winked. Angelique pretended to swoon, then swatted Paige’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s find a dance partner. I’m bored.”
Paige rose and located Aiden, Angelique’s youngest, boyishly handsome brother. They boogie-woogied a while, and then when the music changed one last time to something sappy and slow, she turned and found Joey with his arms out for her. She grinned and went to him, loving his warm skin and the taste of salt when she touched her tongue to his neck.
“Every single woman, plus many of the married ones, are out of their minds jealous of me right now,” she muttered into his chest. Her body responded to his proximity in ways that she wanted very much to do something about. As if sensing this, he held her closer, pressing his obvious erection against her. “Nice,” she said, a little breathless. “Let’s get out of here. I know a place.”
“Oh, no. I’m not getting caught playing cards in that guest room again. Thanks.”
She drew back, disappointed. His wide, white, familiar smile made tears prickle the backs of her eyes.
Was this love? This strange compulsion to cry and laugh and jump the guy’s bones every time he got close to her? Would it wear off? Did it matter that he was borderline OCD on the cleanliness scale and would likely want to toss her out a window once he grasped the extent of her sloppiness?
She tensed, but he pulled her close again, kissing her in that way he had, that way that made everything but him fade from her consciousness. And at that moment, she knew none of that mattered. Not even the fact of his Republicanism.
“I think I love you,” she whispered. “And that’s the weirdest thing ever, you know?”
“I know,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers. “I got a hotel room for tonight. I have to be at the airport at four a.m., so I thought we’d do a little private celebrating.” He ground his hard, trouser-covered dick against her, his grin taking on a wicked edge.
“Well, only if you promise to make it worth me risking my reputation.”
“Oh, it’s gonna be all kinds of worth it, baby.” He bit her earlobe.
She shivered and grabbed his hand. “Good. Fine. Let’s go. Now.”
“One thing before we go,” he said, stopping her from pulling him off the dance floor toward the door. He tilted his head to the table where her parents were sitting with a bunch of friends and family, looking relaxed and, thank the Lord, happy together. Her father had his arm draped around the back of her mother’s chair in a familiar, comforting pose.
Paige swallowed hard. Lying to her parents had come so naturally for so long. She wasn’t quite sure she could handle anything else. But Joey was frowning at her.
“No celebrating. No private party. No nothing. Not until we come clean.”
She nodded her head and let him pull her toward the table. “Mama, Daddy, uh, we need to tell you something.”
The conversation and laughter stopped. Her parents’ friends dispersed. She stood, gripping Joey’s hand tight, letting him give her the strength she required. Like he would always do, she knew now. Her prince. Her knight in shining armor.
“I met Joey yesterday, at the airport. He was stranded there with me. He was on his way to . . .” She glanced over at him, not sure how much he wanted to reveal.
“I’m a member of a…uh…non-military special force,” he said, looking her father in the eye. “It’s a special ops agency. We get called in when the local cops, military or government can’t handle whatever’s going on in their quadrant. It’s dangerous. Very dangerous. I am ex-military, Army Ranger for five years, Special Forces for six. But this is better. This way we make our own rules and get things done the way they need to be done. With less collateral damage. But don’t tell my former Operators I said that.” He smiled.
She waited, tense, watching her parents’ faces. “Are you . . .” her mother began, fanning her flushed face with a napkin embellished with the monogram of the happy new couple.
Joey sighed. “Yes, ma’am. I am a registered Republican.”
“Oh, my Lord.” The napkin flapped faster. Al DiFerrari put his hand on her arm to calm her.
“Now, honey, we can’t get everything we want in a second son-in-law, now can we? I, for one, think I can overlook that small flaw in this fine young man’s character.”
“We aren’t engaged,” Paige blurted out. “I mean, that was just . . . part of the—”
“The lie,” Joey said, his voice calm. “The
lie Paige made up so you wouldn’t bug her about her lack of a boyfriend.” He brought her knuckles slowly to his lips, then lowered their hands, still clasped between them. “I was game. But somewhere in the middle of all this, I fell in love with your daughter. Not sure how or why, but there it is.”
Caroline and Alfonso DiFerrari exchanged a look, then they both smiled and turned back to Paige and Joey. “Honey, if you let this one get away, I will be sorely disappointed in you.” Caroline’s voice was soft and teasing. Paige tensed up anyway, the concept of disappointing her mother never far from her consciousness.
Joey let go of her hand and pulled her close so he could drape an arm around her shoulders. “I’m not going anywhere, at least in theory. The fact is, however, I have a new assignment and have to report to HQ at oh-seven-hundred tomorrow morning.”
Paige sucked in a breath, hearing the words “it’s very dangerous” bounce around inside her skull.
“I’ll be fine,” Joey said in her ear. “I’ll be fine,” he repeated to her parents. “But she and I are going to stay tonight at the Hilton near the airport. I hope you won’t have a problem with that, because if you do, then you’re probably just going to have to live with it.”
Paige smiled at her mother and was shocked when the woman winked at her. Al seemed to stiffen in his seat. “More card playing, young man?”
Joey smiled. “Yes, sir. I need to work on my game a little.”
Paige rolled her eyes and groaned. “Oh, God, I can’t take it. Let’s just go already.” She pulled at him, eager to get away and never more grateful that he’d made her come clean to her parents.
**
“Joey,” she said, with her cheek pressed against his bare chest, listening as his heartbeat slowed from its wild racing to a normal rhythm.
“Hmm,” he murmured, stroking her arms with his fingertips, giving her little shivery jolts of pleasure.
“That was pretty damn impressive,” she said, turning so her chin rested on his sternum. The empty champagne bottle, the half empty bowl of fresh strawberries, the silky blindfold he’d made her wear until she couldn’t stand it anymore, and their discarded clothes were scattered around the room. She lifted herself up and stared down at his Photoshop-worthy torso and abs, the cut marble lines of his arms, the sweet tilt of his chin, and that grin.
Dear God, that grin.
She slid off him and the bed, wobbling some as she made her way to the bathroom. Their tub full of hot water had gone cold, and there were plenty of puddles on the ceramic tile, thanks to all the sloshing they’d done. When she noted the time, two a.m., the slight tickle of fear she’d been harboring started to bloom and take root in her gut, making her gasp and lean over the sink.
“What’s wrong, honey?” He came into the bathroom, turned her around and held her close. She sniffled, loving the sweaty, sexy smell of his skin.
“I’m scared,” she admitted, looking up into his eyes. “I’m terrified, actually. Now that I’ve found you, you’re gonna hurl yourself headlong into some . . . some kind of super dangerous thing that I probably can’t even know about, and I have to sit around and wait for you to get home.”
“Yeah, that’s about the sum of it.” He kissed her swollen lips. “What happened to thinking it was sexy as fuck?”
She sighed and wrapped her arms around his slim waist. “It is. You are. It’s just . . . I don’t know. Shit.”
He let her go, dropped to one knee, butt naked as a jaybird and said, “Marry me, Paige?”
She shook her head and yanked her hand away, but her pulse was racing at the thought of never seeing this man again, not waking up in his arms every single morning of her life going forward. It made her slightly ill and dizzy at the same time.
“You don’t even have a ring,” she said, sulkily. “How can I know you’re serious?”
He stood and unclasped the thin gold chain she wore, slid something onto it and refastened it around her neck. Then he cradled her face between his large hands and kissed her, soundly and surely and in a way that called for little in the way of argument. When he broke from her, she looked down at the thing hanging heavy between her collarbones, expecting some kind of costume jewelry with a promise of more, later, if—when—he survived this next assignment.
“Come with me to Florida. I want you to meet Grey and Athena. They’re my bosses, the ones who founded Omega Team. It’s important to me. Please, Paige? I already bought you a round trip ticket.”
She couldn’t stop staring at the ring on her chain. It was the Greek letter Omega, cast in gold like a signet, attached to a thick band. She let it drop back to her chest. When she pressed her hand over it, a massive sense of rightness surged through her.
This was it.
He was it.
He was hers, forever.
“Yes,” she answered in a hoarse whisper. “Yes. But promise me one thing.”
He gathered her close, kissing her eyes, her nose, her cheeks. “Anything, Paige.”
“Promise me you won’t freak out when you find out I’m an unmitigated slob.”
He chuckled, scooped her up in his arms and carried her back to the messy, tumbled nest of sheets and blankets. “Anything else?” he inquired as he tossed her down and started kissing and licking his way down her breasts and torso.
She draped her legs over his broad shoulders. “And promise me you will come home to me every single time. You will not, I repeat not, get killed or otherwise die on these dangerous assignments.”
He looked up from between her legs, his dark eyes serious. She propped on her elbows and glared at him. “Promise me right now, Joey Preston or this whole deal is off . . . holy shit, yes . . .” She fell back, her whole body trembling at the touch of his lips and fingers to her tender pussy.
After he’d stroked and sucked her to yet another breathtaking orgasm, he crawled up between her legs and entered her body with a long, firm stroke. She wrapped her legs around his waist as their hips rolled together and their lips met.
“Oh, God,” she gasped. “Joey,” she whispered into his neck, repeating his name like a mantra, as his thrusts got faster until she felt him filling her with a loud groan and a full body shudder.
“I promise,” he said. “I promise to do everything in my power to make sure I always make it home to you, Paige.”
He kissed the tears running down her cheeks. “I love you,” he said. “But I can’t make any promises about sloppiness. That sounds like our next fight.”
“As long as we can make up like this,” she said, still holding him close with her arms and legs.
“Deal,” he sighed into her neck. “I’m so glad you’re a klutz.”
“Hey, that was partly your fault. You weren’t watching where you were going either.”
“No,” he countered, pulling out of her and dropping onto his back before gathering her close. “It was your fault. But it’s something we can argue about later. Now, I gotta sleep a little.”
She waited until his breathing evened out, then slipped out from his arms and sat in the chair, her body sated, and her mind calm as she stared down at the symbol of his love he’d placed around her neck.
The End.
Met the Love family in LOVE: CLASSIFED, now want to know more?
Read Angelique and Lindsay Love’s stories in FAMILY LOVE.
Listen to LOVE GARAGE, COACH LOVE, and LOVE BREWING on audible!
Check out the rest of the series on Amazon here.
About the Author
Amazon best-selling author, mom of three, Realtor, beer blogger, brewery marketing expert, and soccer fan, Liz Crowe is a Kentucky native and graduate of the University of Louisville currently living in Ann Arbor. She has decades of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as a three-continent, ex-pat trailing spouse.
With stories set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch, in successful real estate offices and at times in exotic locales like Istanbul, Turkey, her boo
ks are unique and told with a fresh voice. The Liz Crowe backlist has something for any reader seeking complex storylines with humor and complete casts of characters that will delight, frustrate and linger in the imagination long after the book is finished.
Don’t ever ask her for anything “like a Budweiser” or risk bodily injury.
Website
Blog
Facebook Fan Page
Facebook Profile
Twitter Feed
Amazon Author Page
Goodreads Page
Sign Up for Liz Newz and get free books!
Read 3 Free Novels on WATTPAD!
Recommendations/endorsements:
“If you want a story that will grip your heart and bring all your emotions into play, then do not miss a Liz Crowe story.
---USA Today Best Selling Author Desiree Holt
"Liz Crowe is my drug of choice for unconventional romance that pushes the envelope of my comfort zone."
--Best Selling Author of the Enigma Series, Ditter Kellan
Liz Crowe writes intense true-to-life stories that make you feel. Whether it's anxiety, love, fear, hate, bliss, or loss woven into her plot lines, you will feel it deep down to your very soul.
--Audrey Carlan, #1 New York Times Bestselling Author
“I’ve learned to expect the unexpected with any Liz Crowe novel—along with 3-dimensional characters and well-written, realistic plots.”
--USA Today best selling author AM Hargrove