by BJ Harvey
“And Bryant,” she says, hugging me as long and as hard as she did with Faith. Pulling back, she looks me over from head to toe. Mrs. Baker is not a woman to mess with.
Mrs. Baker locks eyes with mine, staring at me for a long time, almost to the point where I feel uncomfortable.
“I always knew you’d be my son, Bryant Cook.” She glances sideways to Faith who has let go of my hand in order to greet her dad. “Thank you,” she whispers. When my brows furrow, she continues. “For being here when she finally came back to us. For giving her a reason to stay.”
My chest seizes. Of all the things she could’ve said, she had to say that.
I decide to lock her comment in a box—for now—and steer the conversation away from anything too deep by turning toward my wife and her father. He holds out his hand to me, shaking it vigorously when I take up his offer.
“Mr. Baker, nice to see you.”
His eyes dance with amusement. “No need to call me that now, Bryant. Bob will be fine.”
I nod, a smile tugging at my lips. “Okay, Bob.”
“Welcome to the family.” He winks at Faith as she moves away toward Delilah. “Son.”
God, can this get any more surreal? I chuckle, shaking my head. “I think I’ve been part of the furniture for a while now.”
“That is true. I’ll let you go. But Patricia and I would love to have you both over for dinner sometime.”
Dinner with the in-laws? Piece of cake. “That would be great. I’ll get Faith to organize it.”
Bob reaches up and cups my shoulder. “Smart man. I’ll give you my best marriage tip—the wife is always right, even when she’s wrong. Remember that.”
I chuckle when Patricia turns to her husband and glares at him. The Bakers remind me of my parents which is scary in itself.
“We’ll let you go,” Patricia says, looking over at her two daughters who are laughing and talking not far from us. “It’s nice to see her happy. I’ve missed her smile.” She locks eyes with me. “I look forward to seeing it more often.”
Her stare is intense, and I feel the meaning to the bottom of my gut. I swallow hard and nod. “You will. I’m going to make sure of that.”
“Good,” she says, placing her hand on my forearm and giving me a gentle squeeze. “I’m glad she came home to you, Bryant. Now you can finally start your life again.”
The Bakers move away as Faith returns to my side, tangling her fingers with mine. Then it’s like a chorus line of family members and friends moving forward to congratulate us.
A radiant April and a very relaxed Jamie saunter over.
“Hey, you’re back? Couldn’t have called or sent a text and let your brother know?” I ask. I look them both up and down. “The honeymooner look works for you.”
“I highly recommend it,” April says with a giggle, glancing up at Jamie.
Faith squeezes my hand. I look down, a corner of my mouth curving up. “One day. Definitely one day,” I murmur.
“Faith, as your sister-in-law, it’s my duty to save you from the house-flipping talk that’s about to ensue.” April hooks arms with her. “Let’s go sit with the rest of the girls and get you a drink.”
Just like that, I lose my wife in the crowd.
“How’s the house?” Jamie asks,
“Still standing,” I say.
“Smartass. Any problems? That house has potential, but it is pretty old,” Jamie says. Jax, Cohen, and my brother-in-law, Cade, join us. Ezra comes up from the rear, two beers in hand. He reaches out to give one to me.
“Is he talking shop again?” Ez asks with a grin. “Back in town for a few hours and he’s already slipping into work mode.”
Jamie laughs, and shoulder bumps Ez. “Haha, asshole. I was just asking.”
All the guys look at each other, Jax grinning, Cohen rolling his eyes, and Cade laughing.
“Maybe he needs me to kick his ass in golf again to burst his over-sexed, over-relaxed bubble,” Cohen says.
Jamie narrows his eyes at our baby brother. “Name the time and the place, and I’ll gladly kick your ass.”
“Oooh, sounds like the challenge has been laid down. I’ll definitely make sure I’m around for that fight,” Cade says.
Jamie looks over my shoulder where the women are all sitting around a large outdoor table, before coming back to me. “Everything else going okay? She seemed pretty upset?”
“Yeah. There are a lot of things we still have to work out, but opening the door to a surprise wedding reception and being slapped in the face with what could’ve been was a bit of a shock. I’ve got it in hand.”
Jamie’s gaze turns to one of approval. “If there’s one thing I know, it’s that you’ve got this.”
Ez claps my shoulder, grabbing my attention. “Anything you need, Bry, anything at all, we’re all here. We’ve got both of you in this.”
I lift my beer to my mouth and look backward, catching Faith with a champagne glass in her hand, her head thrown back laughing along with Delilah, April, Ronnie, Mom, Mrs. Baker, and a very pregnant Abi.
When I turn back to the guys, they all have varied expressions of amusement and knowing looks on their face.
“Oh yeah, you’re totally fucked,” Jax says with a grin.
“Head over fucking heels,” Cade adds.
“He’s done for,” Ez says.
“I think I’m going to check on Faith. You guys joining me?”
“Yeah, it’s been at least five minutes since I grabbed Ronnie’s ass. She’ll be wondering what’s wrong,” Jax says, walking ahead and moving around to his wife. He bends over the back of her chair and kisses her like he has every right to do so. I’m jealous, in a way. Faith and I aren’t at that point yet. Will we get there? You bet we will. But her panic attack and that soft spot she showed me in my old bedroom have reiterated one thing I might have forgotten amongst the car shopping, the natural, carefree banter, and the married life I forced upon her like a hurricane she couldn’t hide from. I need to ease her into this—into us—again. We’re the same people we were ten years ago, just older and wiser and maybe a little warier.
I gently place my hand on her shoulder. She leans her soft cheek against my skin then lifts her arm to cover my fingers with her own. Holding me there. Telling me she likes it. She’s comfortable with it.
“So when’s the next night for the driving range, boys?” Ronnie says, looking up at Jax. “Because the girls and I have decided we’re coming along too.”
“Barbie, you know you can’t beat us,” Jax says with a smirk.
“I dunno, Ken. Faith was telling us all about how she used to tag along and try and distract you—and how she succeeded many times,” Ronnie replies.
Jax smirks at me. “I think that move was more effective on Bry than me. Remember when we caught you going at it in the supply shed? Balls were flying everywhere, and not just Bry’s.”
The entire table erupts in laughter at my brother’s trip down Memory Lane.
“Cohen can’t concentrate for shit anyway,” Jamie says.
April laughs and grins at her husband before pointing up at Jax. “Swear jar!”
We all laugh. April’s son, Axel, has a swear jar that started as a joke when Jamie was living next door to them. Now, the kid’s swear jar college fund is growing larger every day.
I look down at Faith just as she tilts her head up at me. “I can’t believe you guys still go to the same driving range. Is Gabe still there?”
I grin. “Yep. Still as grumpy and as snarky as he always was.”
“Gabe is a teddy bear.”
“You only say that ’cause he let you whack balls after hours for free so you could try and beat us.”
Her eyes are bright. She looks happy now. That flash of fear I saw earlier is nowhere to be seen. I drop my gaze to her lips as her pink tongue darts out to wet them. Fuck! If she only knew exactly what that does to me. I still remember just how hot it was to have her in my old bedroom, my body covering hers,
my tongue in her mouth, my…
My train of thought—as inappropriate as it might be, given our current location—is interrupted by the sweet sound of tinkling glass and my father standing on a makeshift dance floor in the middle of the backyard. My hand on Faith’s shoulder tenses. She drops her head back and looks up at me. “Ready for embarrassing stories?” she asks, her lips twitching.
I chuckle, smoothing my hand down her arm and back up again, enjoying the ease between us now. “Well, since we’ve already lived through them, at least we won’t be surprised.”
‘Never say never,” she muses. “But whatever happens, I’ve got your back.”
“And I’ll always have yours, babycakes.”
Her features soften and her lips part. “I know that now,” she says quietly before she laces our fingers together and turns back to listen.
Dad goes first. “So let me tell you about the time Faith and Bryant borrowed Jamie’s car to go to a rock concert.” Faith and I just look at each other and burst out laughing. Dad can tell whatever stories he wants in this moment, as long as my wife is smiling.
Because as she said, we’ve already lived through these stories. The dads could never know that these are probably the exact memories we need to hear.
12
Bryant
When we finally get home, I can’t sense any nervousness from Faith. Maybe our talk earlier has put her at ease—I hope it has, anyway—and no longer is she worried that this is anything but real. I’ve always been playing the long game with Faith Baker—now Cook—and although she’s not ready to know about it, that doesn’t mean I can’t continue to show her that this is not temporary for me. I never start anything I don’t intend to finish and right now, walking toward her as she puts our leftover wedding cake into the refrigerator, there’s one tradition we didn’t get to do at the BBQ that I definitely want to rectify.
She’s relaxed and happy—a lot more so than she was at the start of the night—and I’m remembering the sweet, sometimes cheeky, definitely sexy-as-hell girl who’s turned into a woman. From her smooth legs, her curvy hips and rounded ass, to her strong shoulders, and a sleek neck that has my mouth salivating at the thought of devouring it.
When she turns around, her eyes widen before a soft smile transforms her expression.
I slowly rake my gaze down her body before dragging them back to her face. “Hey.” One world has never been filled with so much meaning.
“Hey,” she replies, blindly reaching out to grab hold of the refrigerator door.
I shake my head, licking my lips. “There’s one wedding tradition I’ve always looked forward to,” I say, pushing off the counter and closing the distance between us. Her breathing quickens, her teeth digging in as her pupils dilate.
“What’s… what’s that?” she stammers.
I cover her hand on the door with mine. My other hand slides over her hip and gently presses her around, easing her sideways and back until our positions are reversed.
I reach in and pull out the smallest covered plate, closing the refrigerator door behind me and turning toward her now puzzled expression.
“Cake?” she asks, her voice a rough whisper.
A slow-growing smile curves my mouth as I step closer, reaching over to place the plate on the counter. Leaning in, I brush my lips against her mouth, my smile widening when her hands shoot out to grab hold of my hips and slide around my back, pulling me in tight.
“Uh-uh, babycakes,” I murmur huskily, meeting her eyes. “We have a tradition to experience first.”
There’s a flash of heat in her hooded stare.
I kiss her again, starting as a barely-there touch and deepening as I plaster my body to hers.
Sliding my tongue into her mouth, I reach over, pull the Saran Wrap off the plate, and run my finger over the top of the cake. I end our kiss and pull back just an inch to lock eyes with hers. Her gaze widens when I place the tip of my icing-covered thumb against the corner of her bottom lip and slide sideways, painting her mouth with delicious ganache icing.
Her tongue darts out to lick it off but I growl, stopping her in her tracks. I pop my finger into my mouth and suck it clean, loving the way her eyes flash with unmissable heat and a whimper escapes her throat.
“You missed tasting icing off my lips?” she asks with a wry smirk.
I wrap one hand around the side of her head, and I reach out to the cake again. Her eyes are locked with mine, and our breath intermingles as I stand there and take in her flushed skin.
Then my fingers are between us, and I’m gently smearing the red velvet cake and cream cheese icing over her chin, lips, and even the tip of her nose.
I swallow her gasp and dive deep, my tongue laving hers, my grip on her head tensing as her hands grab hold of my back and tugs me in as close as I can get. Then the kiss turns feral in the best possible way. It’s all lips and tongues, nails biting into skin, hands clawing to get closer. The passionate wildcat I always knew is unleashed, and we can’t seem to get enough. I roll my hips against hers, earning a moan so deep and low I feel it like the throbbing pulse in my cock I thrust against her.
She pulls back, tearing her mouth from mine and heaving in a heavy breath. A devilish grin appears, her eyes dancing with amusement as her hand moves between us. Now I’m the one with cake on my face, her entire palm covering my cheeks, nose, chin, and lips. We stand there, breathing heavily, our eyes locked, my whole body vibrating with a need so great I swear it’s going to consume me.
Faith’s eyes drift down my face then slowly back up again. “I definitely like your way of eating cake, Mr. Cook.”
I stare at her mouth, painted with red and cream. As messy and as mussed as she is, I’ve never seen her look more alive or more beautiful than in this moment. She looks like the woman I’ve dreamed about in the years we’ve been apart.
When she quirks her brow and thrusts her hips against my cock, our truce is decimated. I tighten my grip on her hair, tug her head back, press my body hard into hers and flatten my tongue against her chin. I slowly lick a line up to her mouth. I’ve never tasted anything as sweet as Faith and our wedding cake. An unexpected surge of possessiveness courses through me and I smash my lips to hers, filled with the need to devour her whole. When she moans into my mouth, her hand pulls my hair as she meets me stroke for stroke.
I tear my mouth away and nip her jaw before burying my face in her neck, my tongue tracing rousing circles all over her skin. Her whimpers and my groans fill the air, the roll of my hips against hers amping me up, the pressure inside of me building into a raging inferno that’s definitely going to need a cold shower and a whole lot of jerking off to douse.
My phone rings on the counter beside us, but there’s no way I’m answering it.
Faith’s hand moves to my ass, her nails digging into my jeans and holding me against her as she sucks my tongue between her lips.
No fucking way I’m answering it.
My phone stops and starts again. I tear my mouth from hers. We press our foreheads together and heave in deep breaths. I try to calm myself down, but all I can see is her. All I can feel is her. All I want right now is anything she’s willing to give me. Just her.
Again, the phone rings, and with a frustrated groan, I reach over and pick it up. Jax’s name lit up on the screen. Keeping Faith pinned with my hips, her grip on my ass still holding us together, I answer the call.
“This better be good,” I say by way of hello, my rough voice a dead giveaway. I glide my hand down Faith’s back, and she burrows her face into my chest, resting her cheek against my shoulder.
Jax chuckles in my ear. “Did I interrupt? My bad.”
“What do you need?” I ask, tampering my frustration.
“Oh, nothing much. Just thought you’d wanna know Abi’s waters broke, and she’s going to the hospital.”
“Shit. Okay. Are you heading in?”
“Yeah. But Cade says it may still be a little while so he’ll activate the phon
e tree once the girls are on their way.”
“Okay.”
“Want to come with us?”
I dip my chin and rest it on the top of Faith’s head. “Yeah. Faith’s got work tomorrow so it would be easier just to go with you. Let me know when it’s time to go.”
“Sounds good. I’ll let you get back to… whatever it is you were doing.”
Faith lifts her head, her swollen, cake-stained lips quirking up. Yeah, Faith and red velvet is a really good look.
“We’re just enjoying the wedding cake,” I say into the phone, smirking down at the woman in my arms.
“Riiiight. And you forget we’re two halves of the same egg. So you eat that cake like a starving man, brother. God knows we all need more cake in our lives.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Goodbye, Jax.”
“I might eat some cake of my own.”
“That’s too much information, even for you. Talk soon, brother.”
“Bye, Bry. Go get ’em, Faith,” he calls out before ending the call.
She smiles up at me, her eyes now soft and lax. The moment has passed, and although we’re still touching, it’s more familiar and gentle.
“Well that was fun,” she says.
I study her face with a grin. “And messy.”
“Abi’s having her babies? She did say at the party she was feeling really out of sorts.”
“It seems the Carsen girls were getting ready to make their appearance.” I lift my hand and sweep a loose piece of hair behind Faith’s ear. “Jax is gonna call me when we hear from Cade, and he’ll take me to hospital.”
“Okay. Well, I might just clean all of this up.” She waves her hand around to the annihilated cake on the counter and the remnants of said baked goods spread over us.
I chuckle. “How about I take care of this, and you go get tidied up?” I look down to her mouth and fight the urge to start up where we left off again. Damn resistance. I lean down and brush my lips against hers. “Go get cleaned up before I do it myself.”
A gratifying shudder runs through her body as she nods and straightens.