by BJ Harvey
“Damn, girl,” I say, walking toward her with a huge smile, waving towards her very voluptuous boobage. “You might need to hold Cade back when he sees those beauties.”
She giggles and shoots me a wicked smirk, rubbing her hand over her round stomach. “How do you think I got into this position in the first place?”
“And twins. Your husband is potent.”
“Oh, you have no idea.”
Marcy clears her throat, her amused gaze switching between Abi and myself. “You two look beautiful. I love how the color complements both of you in different ways.”
Betty nods in agreement.
“Absolutely stunning. And if we can get ties in the same color for the guys, it’ll work so well,” she says, rubbing her hands together.
Then her eyes drift past us and fill with tears, a soft gasp escaping her. I turn around and bite my lip to quell my own emotions at the sight of a resplendent April in an absolutely stunning ivory bridal gown. It has thin spaghetti straps, which fan out across her décolletage and down into a deep V, the bodice tapering at the waist then falling down in a full skirt to the floor. It’s understated and elegant, and as she walks towards us on the small elevated runway, hands in two discreet pockets, it’s totally April. She’s pulled her hair out and the chocolate-brown strands spread over her shoulders.
“Jamie is gonna lose his shit at first sight,” Abi blurts out. She’s not wrong.
April’s gaze goes from Abi to me, her expression soft and mushy.
I point my finger at her. “Don’t you dare cry. Because if you cry, then I’ll start.” I wave my hand over my shoulder. “Then Abi will cry even more than she is now, and then the moms will get going, and we all know what that means.”
April snorts and shakes her head. “I’m getting my fairytale ending. He’s giving me that.”
I close the distance between us, putting my hands on her shoulders when I reach her. “Yes, he is, but you are also giving him the same thing. It’s you who stayed strong and worked your ass off to get to this point in your life, and all of us cannot wait,” I whisper, flexing my fingers gently, “to see you walk down the aisle to your prince.”
“Just saying,” Abi adds, “I can’t wait to see my big brooding brother cry because in that dress, I’m laying bets he’ll be blubbering at first sight.”
We all start quietly laughing. Abi is right though, Jamie is going to lose it, and it will be just one of the many anticipated highlights of their wedding.
“So do we pass inspection?” I say, giving April a slow-motion twirl. She looks me over then does the same to Abi—who turns around, just slowly and very carefully.
“It’s perfect. You both look beautiful,” she says softly, meeting my eyes. “I’m getting married,” she whispers.
“Yes, you are.”
“Mrs. Jamie Cook,” April whispers.
“It’s got a nice ring to it,” Betty says, joining with Marcy, Abi and I to make a semi-circle around April. Betty steps forward and lifts her hands to cup April’s face. “You’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”
April bites her lip, tears falling down her cheeks. “You, Jamie, and Axel are the best thing to ever happen to me. I wouldn’t have made it without you.”
Betty’s forced to wipe her own tears away, the rest of us doing the same. “My son was an idiot, and your parents should never have walked away from you either. But you have me for life, sweetheart. Whatever you need, whenever you need it, I’ll be there.”
“Thank you. For everything,” April whispers. She pulls Betty in for a hug before they pull apart, taking a few deep breaths to compose themselves. Betty is worth her weight in gold, and I’m so glad April has her.
“Who knows?” Marcy says, looking across at me and winking. “We might have another Mrs. Cook soon enough if my son doesn’t stuff it up.”
I choke and start coughing, a hand patting me on the back as I bend over and try to recover. With Betty and Marcy in my life, I don’t think I’m ever going to be short of loving mother figures, and I love that April and Jax have given that to me.
“Mom, don’t scare her off. Who knows if Jax will ever find another woman who’d put up with him?” Abi asks.
That makes me choke again, but this time it’s not the I’m-gonna-die kind; it’s more the laugh-my-ass-off kind.
“You guys are so mean,” I squeak as I straighten. Looking around the group, I’m met with four wide grins.
“You owe me twenty bucks, Mom,” Abi says.
“Dammit,” she mutters, all the while I’m switching my attention between Jax’s Mom and sister.
“You bet on me liking your son?” I ask incredulously. Granted, it would be shocking if it was Sheila and my sister, but not so much the two female members of the Cook family.
“I bet you would hold out for a while longer,” April says with a shrug. I look toward Betty who just snickers and shakes her head.
“Let’s get back to the dresses, shall we?” I suggest, redirecting the conversation.
April looks between Abi and me, then smooths her hands over the sides of her own dress, lifting her head as a radiant smile curves her lips. “What was it again? I say yes to the dress!” she says, lifting her arms in the air dramatically and ushering us all in for a rather complicated group hug.
“Can we go eat now?” Abi asks when we finally pull apart. “Because I have two mini Cook-Carsens inside me who are ravenous. And we all know what happens when a Cook gets hungry.”
“Oh yes we do,” April and Marcy say in unison.
“Right. Then before I go all crazy, pregnant lady, let’s go do that.”
I grin at Abi and shake my head. “The mama-to-be has spoken. Undress, then food.”
“Well, preferably get dressed again before the food, but each to their own. Rick and I often go nak—”
“Mom!” Abi groans.
“Marcy!” Betty giggles.
April and I just look at each other and burst out laughing again.
With females like this in my life, with family like this in my life, it brings home how much I’ve missed out on growing up as a Nelson—Gilly being the exception.
The good news is, with the way I feel about Jax, the future is looking a hell of a lot brighter.
17
Jax
I get up early and make Ronnie breakfast before bringing it up to the bedroom and sitting beside her, gently waking her with my arm on her shoulder.
“Hmm,” she says, slowly opening her eyes and looking up at me. “Why are you not in here with me?”
“Because waking up with you wearing a tank and underwear that I can’t strip you out of is torture for a man like me.”
Her lips quirk up. “And what kind of man are you?”
“One who can’t think straight when you press your hips back into mine all night.”
“Oh.”
“Mmm hmm,” I say, leaning down and brushing my lips against hers. She hooks her hand around my neck and deepens the kiss.
I’ve got my eyes on the prize though so I pull back when her other hand starts heading south.
“Uh-uh-uh,” I say, standing out of arm’s reach. “None of that, otherwise you know exactly what’ll happen.”
“I’ll win, then hopefully you’ll win?” she says, waggling her brows.
I chuckle, meeting her hopeful gaze. “Not yet. Soon,” I murmur promisingly. “I don’t quite think I’m ready to win. Not until I know I’ve well and truly earned it.”
She licks her lips and makes everything harder when she slowly looks me up and down. “Oh, I’ll make you earn it.”
“I don’t doubt that for a second. Now, drink your coffee and eat your toast. We’ve got plans.”
She slowly sits and leans her back up against the headboard. Grabbing the mug, she cradles it in her hands and takes a slow sip, closing her eyes and moaning, deep and low and torturous. A growl rumbles in my chest and her eyes snap open.
“Plans?” she says,
sounding very happy for herself.
“We’re going to the hardware store, then we’re going to the house.”
She frowns, looking adorably confused. “Okay…”
“You’ll need your camera, old clothes, and an open mind,” I say with a slow-growing grin.
She arches a brow. “I’m now suitably intrigued.”
“Good.” I lean a hand into the headboard and place open-mouthed pecks on her cheek, her jaw, and then her neck. “Now drink up, get up, suit up, and we can begin our day,” I whisper.
“I can think of more fun ways to begin the day.”
Cupping her jaw, I tilt her face to meet mine. I press my lips to hers for a soft, achingly slow kiss, caressing her tongue with teasing strokes until every atom in my body is begging me to jump back on to the mattress and join her.
Definitely need to get out of the room with the bed.
I stand up rather suddenly, earning a shocked gasp and wide eyes from Ronnie until her gaze looks straight ahead—crotch level—and her expression turns knowing and amused.
“If you want me to get up then you need to get out.” She lifts off the blankets to reveal her long, bare legs and her pair of skimpy black underwear that I’d almost forgotten about. Definitely need to leave.
Without another word, I spin on my heels and walk out of the room and make myself at home in her living room. I grip the armrest of the recliner when I hear her shower turn on. I turn the volume up when I hear her start humming “I Wanna Sex You Up,” and I near-on leave the condo when I swear I hear her moan.
It’s not surprising that by the time she walks out of her bedroom, she’s looking radiant and very happy for herself, and I’m grumpy, frustrated, and ready to knock a wall out with my erection.
Ninety minutes later, my truck is parked in the driveway of the no-longer-pink Dream House, and I’m helping Ronnie as she exits the vehicle.
“So, what are we painting then?” she asks, her camera bag slung over one shoulder, her golden hair slightly curled and running wild. Watching her stand there, the sunlight cascading over her face, I wish I had my camera in hand. Since I stopped ignoring the beautiful woman standing beside me, I haven’t needed to take covert photos in order to enjoy the sight of her. I can do it whenever I like now, but sometimes, I have to figuratively slap myself out of a daze just from looking at her. A definite first for me.
I lead her ’round to the back of the truck and drop down the tailgate. Once we have the supplies from the hardware store, I quickly lock everything up. I seek out Ronnie’s hand, then walk down the side of the house and around the back towards the former second garage, soon-to-be renovated studio.
I lead her inside the paint-ready room, letting go of her hand to close the door behind us.
“Wow, this is awesome. It would make an amazing darkroom and office,” she says, bending down to place her bags on the ground as I do the same with my own supplies. She turns around to face me. “Maybe this was Barbie’s secret hideaway from all the mini Kens?”
I snort and shake my head. “What about the mini divas? The boys would be heathens, but the girls would be killer on a man’s sanity and his wallet.”
Her pink lips quirk. “Heathens and divas, huh? Are you saying you wanna have babies with me, Jaxon Cook?”
My mouth gapes, my heart stops dead, and my entire body is frozen in place. Her smile widens as her amused gaze takes in my stunned reaction, which is obviously written all over me.
“I knew I’d get you with that one,” she says with a giggle.
I narrow my eyes at her. “One day, I’ll know when you’re fucking with me.”
Her smile turns sexy as she traces the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip. “Soon, Jax… very soon.”
“We better change the subject otherwise we’ll both be in trouble. Are we doing some painting?” she asks, looking at the bags at my feet.
I close the distance between us and rest my hands on her hips as she puts her palms flat on my chest. I hook a loose curl behind her ear, rubbing my fingertip down her cheek and over her jaw. “We aren’t painting, but we do need paint.”
“Okay. That makes no sense because I’d be all up for a naked paint party, but there are certain parts of my body where paint does not need to go. Paint is like sand; there’s such a thing as too much,” she says with a grin.
“I’ve got water-based paint and this room can be cleaned up easy enough afterward…”
She beams. “Is this a big effort to win the chase? ’Cause you might be on to something.”
I drop my head back and bark out a laugh. “I probably am but I swear this time, my intentions are far too honorable for my own good. You’ve been working on the human form for your portfolio, and I figure, I’m a man, and my form isn’t too bad…”
“Not too bad is a big understatement,” she says. “Massive,” she leans in and whispers.
I smirk because I doubt there’s a man on the planet who doesn’t like to hear the word massive in relation to his male form.
“You’re going to be my model?” She runs her hands over my shoulders and presses her breasts against me.
“Yeah,” I reply, sounding far too affected. At this rate, this arty portrait shoot might be more pornographic than I intended. Fighting my instinct to pull her closer, I brush my mouth against hers before moving out of reach.
Her lips part and her eyes widen before recognition dawns, and amusement prevails.
“It’s gonna be hard enough to keep this G-rated when I’ve got your hands on me without giving my cock ideas before we’ve even started.”
She pouts. “But I like giving it ideas,” she says, her voice saccharine-sweet.
I arch my brow. “Saying things like that does not help, beautiful.”
Her eyes go soft like they do whenever I call her beautiful, and fuck, if I don’t like that a whole damn lot too.
She holds her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’ll behave.”
The gleam in her eyes says otherwise. She takes a few steps back and peruses me, tapping an index finger against her lips as she looks me up and down. “Hmm, I can definitely work with this. No faces though.”
I nod. “That goes without saying. Joey and I may be close, but he doesn’t need to see that much of me.”
“No one gets to see that but me,” she says, sounding possessive. Fuck, I like that.
“Okay, so treat this as your first official studio shoot. I’m your model to do with what you will.”
“And the paint?”
I shrug. “You don’t have to use it, but there’s plastic sheeting to cover the ground, and this room is due to be painted by me anyway.”
“So, a naked paint party,” she says, waggling her brows with a satisfied grin, making me chuckle.
“Yep. It just won’t have the kind of happy ending I’d really appreciate.”
She walks over and crushes her lips to mine, wrapping her arms around my neck and giving me everything. My hands go to her daisy duke-covered ass, holding her in place and giving her as good as I’m getting.
Needing distance—again—I slowly ease back until I’m staring into her eyes. “No direction, no suggestions. This is all you, beautiful. Do with me what you will.”
She smacks my lips with a kiss one more time before untangling her arms and moving back. “This may be one of the coolest things anyone has ever done for me,” she says, her voice breaking.
“And just knowing that makes me over the fucking moon that I’m the one giving it to you.”
Her eyes mist over. “Thank you, Jax.”
“Anytime, Ronnie.”
“Now,” she says, clapping her hands. “Chop, chop. Get your clothes off while I decide where the best light might be.”
I point to the back wall of the room. “You’ll find any gear you may need over there. What’s mine is yours: lights, backdrops, tripods, my cameras, lenses, you name it. I know you can do amazing work; I’m just giving you added tools to take it to the nex
t level, and since I’m not grading you, I don’t see it as a conflict of interest. This is all you.”
Her gaze softens, and she opens her mouth as if to say something but seems to stop herself. “This is amazing.” She jumps up and lets out an excited squeal. “My mind is racing with all the things.”
I laugh at her infectious enthusiasm. “Lucky for us, we’ve got all day.”
She nods, her expression morphing from fun to all business. “Right. Let’s get to work then.”
Three hours, two battery packs, and five different light and lens combinations later, and my body is sore from pulling and holding poses for longer than I thought I was capable of. Ronnie bends and carefully places her camera on top of her bag.
“I think we’re done,” she says, walking over toward me. “How are you doing down there?” she asks.
Lying on my side, I’m fully stretched out with one leg bent forward onto the plastic-covered floor, and I have splashes of blue, green, and yellow paint everywhere.
I roll to my back and look up at a radiant Ronnie. Her eyes are tired but bright, her smile huge. She holds out her hand and I lift my arm to lace my fingers with hers.
“Do you like those clothes?” I ask, just as I tighten my grip and tug her down on top of me. She shrieks, my body cushioning her fall. Her messy bun of hair on top of her head protects her blonde locks from the paint, but her hands, chest, and legs don’t fare as well.
“Now we’re both dirty,” she says on a giggle. I lift a blue and green hand to her cheek, pressing my palm to her skin and pulling her down for a long deep kiss. Just as she’s melting into me, I bend my leg and roll us over, my naked paint-covered front draped all over her now. But still I don’t break the kiss. Her arms wrap around my back, her hands roaming my skin as my hips grind against hers.
Then her body goes stock still and her nails bite into my shoulders. I freeze, lifting my head to check on her, but find her eyes glued toward the door… the unlocked door. Dammit!