Blake took Danica’s hand in his and faced their friends. Danica blinked away her dreamy state but could not quell her racing heart as Blake guided her down the aisle and rose petals flitted down upon them.
When they reached the end of the red carpet that Danica had somehow missed on her trip down the aisle, Blake looked into her eyes and said, “I meant every word I said. I will never hurt you, Danica Carter.”
Danica Carter.
Danica Carter.
Oh my God, I’m Danica Carter!
She jumped into his arms and kissed him.
“Sheesh, there they go again,” Kaylie teased. “Get a room already!”
Danica flashed a smile at her sister. “Excuse me, Mrs. Crew, but I’m Danica Carter now, and I’d like to enjoy that for a moment. In public.”
The fatigue of the day was lost on the excitement of the reception. Treat had arranged for a full-course meal, a band that played tropical music, and he’d even managed to have a wedding cake specially made, very similar to the one Max had originally ordered.
“Thank you, princess.”
Danica turned at the term of endearment that she hadn’t heard since her college graduation.
“Dad.”
“Thank you for letting me be a part of your ceremony. I can’t tell you how much that meant to me.” He looked down at his hands, then back up at her.
Danica still wasn’t used to her father’s new, less confident demeanor, though she realized that if he’d shown up with the same confidence he once held, she’d have thought less of him for it.
“I’m glad, Dad,” she said. She scanned the crowed for Kaylie, then asked, “Has Kaylie spoken to you yet?”
He shook his head.
She thought of her mother. The kiss. “Probably just as well. Baby steps,” she said.
“Thank you, for all those things you said about Lacy and Madeline. That was...they were...”
“Dad?”
He lifted his eyes.
“I meant them. I love Lacy, and I think I’m even finding a place for Madeline in my heart.” She watched Blake hovering nearby, and she knew he’d jump in and rescue her if she so much as turned in his direction. His presence gave her strength to continue on. “Dad, we do need to talk. About Mom.”
His eyes narrowed. His lips pressed into a tight, serious line.
“I know you two kissed,” she said. Why am I doing this now?
“Danica—”
“Don’t,” she said.
He took a step forward, and Danica stepped out of his grasp. “But—”
She cut him off again. “I don’t want to talk about it right now. I just want you to know that Kaylie doesn’t know, and I don’t want her to find out right now, tonight. Maybe not even on this trip.”
“Find what out?” Kaylie asked from over her shoulder.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Danica tried to dissuade Kaylie from pushing for an answer, but Kaylie would have no part of it.
“Tell me, Danica. He’s my father, too, and whatever you’re withholding can’t make me feel any more bad about who he is.”
Wanna bet?
Thankfully, her father had melted into the crowd when Danica asked him to, so she had Kaylie all to herself.
“Drop it, Kay. Please?”
“Why do I always feel like you keep me in the dark until you deem it’s time to bring me into the light? That’s so unfair, and it’s really kinda mean.”
Kaylie stuck her lower lip out, looking so pitifully cute that Danica pulled her into her arms without thinking. “Come on. Our husbands are waiting.”
With Kaylie safely smothered by Chaz, Weston, Camille, and Jeff, Danica went to do some recon with Max, who was sitting next to Sally.
“You’re amazing, Max. You pulled this off beautifully.”
“I forgot the rings,” Max said.
“Yes, but that’s so little. I mean, come on. You made two perfect weddings. Two!”
Max smiled. “Thanks, but it wasn’t really me.” She looked across the room at Treat, who stood with his arm around Blake.
“God, he’s cute,” Sally said.
“So handsome,” Danica agreed.
“I’m talking about Treat.” Sally laughed.
“Oh, yeah. He is too,” Danica teased.
“He’s arrogant and pushy,” Max added.
“He is not. He’s lovely.” Sally picked up a glass of champagne and took a sip.
“Not really,” Max mumbled.
Sally and Danica exchanged a curious glance.
“Did something happen, Max? Did he try something with you that we should know about? Because if he did—”
Max cut Danica off with a shake of her head. “No. Forget I said anything.”
“Max?” Danica pushed.
“I’m gonna go to the ladies’ room.”
Treat watched every step Max took. Danica made a mental note to ask Blake about them later.
They drank, danced, and ate, and danced some more. Weston made a beautiful speech, as did Blake’s father. When Danica’s mother stood to speak half an hour later, the room hushed.
“There are certain days that a mother always remembers. The birth of her babies, their first steps, their first words. For me, two of the most magical days were when my daughters first told me that they found the men they were going to marry. Neither one delivered the news in a well presented phone call or even a clear letter. Not my girls. They delivered the news in bits and pieces. I love him. He’s everything I could ever hope for. He’ll be a wonderful father.”
Danica felt the strange pang she had noticed recently when thinking of Blake and parenthood in the same thought, and she looked at Blake’s handsome face, allowing herself to wonder what their babies might look like. Would they have her springy hair and his strong jaw? Might their son be big and strong like him, athletically inclined, or might they have a daughter who was more academic minded, like her? She tucked away these new thoughts and focused on her mother, standing before them with tears welling in her eyes.
Her mother continued. “Now I’m forced to try to remember all those little messages at once. In time, I may forget each of those moments, and they’ll likely become one general feeling. In fact, maybe they already have. But two things I’ll never forget are the moments when I realized that you, Chaz and Blake, were the men my daughters had chosen to spend their lives with. I’ve loved each of you ever since that first realization occurred. They say that when your daughter marries, you don’t lose her; you gain a son. I’ve gained two. I’m honored to have the two of you in our family.”
Blake squeezed Danica’s hand.
Perfect. Just perfect.
As they sipped champagne, Danica caught sight of Max at the next table with Abby. Max kept glancing at Treat, and when she wasn’t looking at him, Treat was looking at her.
“What’s up with Treat and Max?” she asked Blake.
“Nothing that I know of. Why?”
Danica shrugged. “You said things were contentious between them. She said he’s arrogant, but he doesn’t seem it.”
Blake smiled, nodded.
“What?” She recognized the mischief in his eyes.
“I never would have put those two together, but if she says he’s arrogant, she’s probably right.”
“Blake, what are you talking about?”
He lifted his eyebrows.
“Oh my God. You mean you think they slept together and...maybe he blew her off or something?” She looked at Max again. “No way, not Max. She’s not that kind of girl.”
“If Treat Braden sets his sights on you, even those girls that aren’t turn into that kind of girl.”
“No way. I mean, he’s really handsome, but...”
“And rich, and a smooth talker, and very generous, you have to admit,” Blake said.
“Yeah, but...” Danica felt like an idiot. It was all coming together. No girl would ignore advances by someone like Treat. She’d been viewing him as Blake’s cousin, but if
she removed that relationship, she saw Treat with entirely new eyes. That gleaming smile was suddenly smoldering. Those clear, direct eyes were hungry and lascivious. His masculine physique became ripped and thunderous.
Danica shook the thoughts away. “Oh my God. You might be right,” she admitted.
“Might be? What did I tell you about the Braden boys?”
Danica remembered Dane’s words. We Braden boys are known for being ladies’ men. She tried not to think about his ten-inch comment.
An hour later, having shared their last congratulatory hugs, Danica and Blake made their way upstairs with Chaz and Kaylie.
“Where are you guys sleeping tonight?” Danica asked.
Kaylie bit her lower lip and looked up at Chaz with heat in her eyes.
“Your mom said she’d stay with the kids. We’re staying in another room, thanks to Treat.” He pulled Kaylie close and kissed her more passionately than Danica had ever witnessed.
“Yes!” Kaylie said with a playful fist pump.
“Go. Get in your room,” Danica teased.
The two couples headed in different directions. Blake opened the hotel room door and swooped Danica up into his arms.
“I’m way too heavy for this.” She laughed.
“You’re just perfect.” He kissed her as he carried her across the threshold.
Danica was sure that somewhere between saying good night to Kaylie and Blake sweeping her into his arms and carrying her into their room, which smelled like roses, she’d died and gone to heaven.
Blake set her down and flicked on the light. Danica gasped. The bedspread had been changed to a thick, white, velvety comforter. Red rose petals were strewn across it in the shape of a heart, and vases full of fresh red roses covered every surface, bringing the sweet aroma to every breath they took.
“Did you do this?” Danica asked.
Blake shook his head. “It must have been Treat.”
“If Max and Treat did hook up, and she’s avoiding him because of it, then he must have done something awful. I mean, the man obviously knows about romance.” She took Blake’s face in her hands, feeling the beginnings of prickly whiskers against her palms, and she kissed him with all the feelings she’d been holding back during the ceremony, then pulled away with a nip at his tongue.
“Whoa,” Blake whispered.
“I want to take a bath,” she said.
“A bath?” Blake cocked his head.
“With you.” She trailed her finger along his chin, then motioned for him to follow her into the bathroom. Danica had been playing the evening over in her mind the whole way up the elevator. Everyone talked about their wedding night, the sex they did or didn’t have. Camille and Jeff had been too drunk to do anything. He’d passed out on their wedding night, and Camille always joked that she was thankful that he had. But Danica imagined that the joke was to spare Camille’s true feelings. Didn’t every woman want something special to remember about their wedding night?
Danica definitely wanted a wedding night to remember—and one that would erase the discontent of the afternoon. She didn’t have a plan, and she wasn’t sure what a wedding night to remember really even meant, but when she saw what Treat had done, she realized that she wanted romance, and the one thing—no, more accurately, one of the things—she and Blake hadn’t yet done together was to take a bubble bath. That was a start.
She started the bath and poured half of the bottle of bubbles into the water. She was suddenly nervous, unsure of how to make a perfect romantic night. Maybe expectations aren’t a good thing after all. Maybe Camille hadn’t been joking. Maybe—
Blake unzipped her dress and slipped his hands around from behind before it had even fallen to the ground. Danica shivered beneath his touch, her worries forgotten. He kissed the back of her neck, trailing kisses down her spine, while he caressed her stomach, her hips, her—oh yes—
She closed her eyes, listening to the water pouring from the faucet, breathing in the thick floral scent and trembling beneath Blake’s hand as his hand slid between her legs.
His tongue moved slowly up the center of her spine and she gasped, grabbing for the wall as he touched the heated folds of her flesh. One hand disappeared and she felt him unbuttoning his shirt, then shaking his chest free, never pausing in his rubbing, caressing the bundle of nerves between her legs. Fast, then agonizingly slowly, as she arched against his hand.
His pants fell to the floor, and she felt him step out of them; then his chest was against her, prickly against her back. His hardness pressed against the flesh of her bottom while his fingers worked their magic. His other hand came around and pinched her nipple. She sucked in a breath, and he quickly released her, dropped his hand to her hip, thrusting her back against him. A sexy little moan escaped her lips.
Everything fell away—the sound of the water, the light in the room. There was only her and Blake and the incredible heights he was drawing her toward. He took the muscle between her neck and shoulder in his teeth, biting just hard and fast enough to send searing streaks of lightning through her body. He did it again, and at the same time, his fingers slid inside of her, taking her up and over the edge as he lapped at the nip he’d taken, then took her in his teeth again.
“Blake,” she cried out, curling her toes under and reaching behind her and grasping his hips as her muscles squeezed and contracted around his thrusting fingers.
“That’s it, baby. Come for me,” he said.
No one had ever spoken to her like that before. In all her years of dating—not that she’d slept with many men, but she’d had enough—and none, not one, had made her feel so wanted, so sexy.
“You’re so beautiful when you let me love you,” he said.
Danica couldn’t catch her breath as her body rode out the convulsions like mini aftershocks. She gasped when he slid his fingers out of her and turned her slowly toward him, covered her mouth with his. Her senses were on fire. Each thrust of his tongue sent new shocks through her loins.
“Better turn off that bathtub,” he whispered.
Danica reached for the tub, not wanting to leave his arms, his lips, his God-like hands. She felt drunk, though she hadn’t had enough to drink to send her mind into the sexual haze that possessed it.
With his hands gently placed upon her hips, he guided her into the oversized bathtub and helped her down, until her body was submerged in warm bubbles.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he said as he climbed into the tub, facing her. “I just want to look at you.”
Danica felt her face flush again. She hadn’t blushed this much since she was a teenager. Blake made her feel beautiful and sexy, shy and incredibly desirous. Naughty. He definitely made her feel naughty. He continually awakened new parts of her that she didn’t know existed, and the more he did, the more she allowed herself to enjoy it.
He touched her cheek, and she closed her eyes, pressing her cheek against his palm. If they did nothing else the entire night, she wouldn’t care. The closeness they’d already experienced was more romantic than anything she’d ever dreamed of.
He slid his hand from her cheek, and she relaxed her head back against the tub. He ran his hands down her calves, and she moaned. She’d never experienced anything as luxurious as her husband’s—husband’s—tender touch. He squeezed each calf until her sore muscles relaxed; then he moved to her foot. Why did it feel so erotic to have his hands massaging her feet? Danica had never experienced a man touching her foot with so much love that it was as if he were making love to her.
He moved to the other foot, both of his thumbs pushing on the tender pressure points in her arch, caressing the pads of her feet with his strong thumbs. Tension drained from her—tension she didn’t even realize had taken hold of her.
He set her feet on either side of his hips and inched himself closer, then went to work loving, massaging, the muscles in her thighs. His strength pushed and squeezed in all the right places, stealing the stress from all the way up her torso and drawin
g it out through the release in the tight muscles of her thighs.
She was being spoiled, she realized, and lifted her head. She should be giving him just as much love as he was giving her.
“Uh-uh. I want to take care of you. Every inch of you,” he said.
Danica didn’t have the energy to argue. She gave in to his desire and relaxed back into the decadent role of her willing and able body.
He took her hips in his hands and squeezed the tension out. His hands moved inch by inch along her body, gently massaging his way across the taut skin of her stomach and up her rib cage.
Danica’s body tingled in anticipation of his touch to turn more desirous, but he continued loving every inch of her with his hands, not taking her, not doing anything overly sexual, just bringing all those muscles that had clenched around him, and for him, to a relaxed state.
He slid his hands up to her breasts, stroking them. She felt the prickling of her nipples hardening. He worked around their hard peaks until Danica’s breathing became shallow, and she craved more. His hands slid to the flat area above her breasts. She felt the prickling of his pubic hair against the flesh of her bottom as he moved in closer to reach every possible piece of her. He slid his hands up and down her arm, squeezing each muscle. His sensual touch had her so close to the edge that she debated slipping down, making him take her. No, she didn’t dare break the erotic feel of his hands on her flesh.
“I want to love every bit of you. Forever,” he whispered.
“Love me,” she responded. He moved to her other arm, then took each finger between the knuckles of his index and second fingers and drew the tension from them, too. Danica had never imagined such a feeling of sheer pleasure, such heightened erotica from the sensation in one little finger.
He cradled her hand in his, using his thumbs to drive the tension up and out of her palm. She bit her lower lip to keep from calling out his name.
“What?” he whispered.
She shook her head, afraid to break the delicious arousal that he had built. She felt his hard shaft against her, making her insides pull down toward him, against the warm and bubbly water.
“Tell me,” he said.
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