by B. Cranford
But Declan would lose that bet—not that Sebastian would be taking it in any way, shape, or form. Somehow, he’d always known what his girl needed.
Mostly.
“Again, what do you need?” Sebastian asked, glancing at his watch and seeing that lunchtime was nearly upon him.
“You’re working from home, right? Jade said you were.”
Shaking his head, he replied with a laugh. “That was two weeks ago. Do you two not talk at all?”
“Surprisingly, you aren’t our number one topic, no. But shit, I was hoping you could run by my place.”
“Brighton’s home, why don’t you ask her?”
“I didn’t want to bother her,” Declan replied, a tinge of worry coloring his words. “Is she—is she okay?”
Though they’d been friends for years, emotional chit-chats weren’t their norm. It wasn’t surprising to Sebastian that Declan sounded both worried and uncomfortable. “I assume Jay filled you in?”
“Not a lot. Just that she was worried about her.”
“She’s—she made an appointment with someone, but sometimes . . .” Another wave of the frustration he’d felt when he’d realized the extent of Brighton’s struggle hit Sebastian square in the chest. Yes, she was improving, but anyone who thought recovering from any kind of depression, anxiety, or stress was easy was a goddamn idiot.
Two days earlier, he’d come home and found her crying with Stella cradled close to her chest. And a few nights before that, he’d woken in the night to find her sitting outside on the porch, arms wrapped around her bent legs, forehead resting on her knees. When he’d asked her what she was doing, she said she was wishing she wasn’t there.
“Bright Star? Baby, what are you doing out here? It’s freezing.” Sebastian stepped out onto the porch, approaching his wife where she sat in nothing but a nightgown that he knew was designed to aid breast-feeding. “Hey,” he said louder, when she didn’t respond. “Brighton.”
“I was wishing.” Her head turned towards his, her cheek now resting on her knees where her forehead had previously lain. “Maybe I wasn’t here.”
A cold feeling gripped him—one that had nothing to do with the chilled air blowing around them and everything to do with the lost look in Brighton’s beautiful green eyes and the empty words spilling from her frowning mouth.
“Come inside, you don’t want to be out here. Don’t be out here.” He knew that wasn’t what she meant, but he was trying to convince her—and himself—that it was. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be here, as in their house, their life; she didn’t want to be here, on their porch, in the cold night air.
“I’m sorry.” She closed her eyes and Sebastian dropped to his knees beside her, giving her a gentle kiss on the tip of her icy nose. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, baby. Just come inside. We’ll figure it out.”
He’d helped her back into their bed and drawn her body as close to his as he was able, warming her as best he could with his body, praying to a God he’d never really communicated with to help him. To help her.
To help them.
And when she’d asked him to sit with her the next morning as she called someone for an appointment, to ask for help, he’d done exactly that. Sat silently holding her hand, just being there while she got started on the fight back.
Coming back to the conversation with Declan, Sebastian sighed. “She’s going to be okay, I think. I won’t accept anything else.”
Declan murmured his agreement, both of them quiet for a moment thereafter while they processed all that was happening.
“So, call her,” Sebastian eventually said, breaking the increasingly awkward silence. “She can do whatever you need. You know she loves to help.”
“Will do, thanks, man.”
“No problem.” Ending the call and dropping the phone on his desk, Sebastian leaned back in his chair, taking another minute to press back thoughts of his wife—the love of his life—feeling so lost that she was talking about not wanting to be around anymore.
It wouldn’t do. He couldn’t stand it. Lifting his phone again, he found the number he wanted and placed the call.
Sometimes a woman just needed reminding that she wasn’t just here.
Sometimes, she needed to know that she was exactly where she needed to be.
Brighton dropped the box she’d retrieved at Declan’s request on her kitchen counter, placing a soft kiss on the downy head of her baby girl. She’d strapped her into the baby carrier for the walk to and from Declan and Jade’s place, loving the warmth of Stella’s little body pressed against her.
“Looks like Aunty Jade is getting a surprise,” she said softly, not wanting to disturb the baby who’d fallen asleep during the short outing. “Lucky girl, she is.”
Walking into the nursery, Brighton carefully unstrapped the carrier and, supporting Stella’s limp body, laid her daughter down in her crib. She was so peaceful, her pink rosebud lips parted ever so slightly, her chubby cheeks a little ruddy from the cold Christmastime air. “I love you,” she whispered, not for Stella’s sake, she realized, but for her own.
There’d been so many doubts in her mind. So much resentment and second-guessing. So many regrets. And she hated that it made her feel like she was failing the one person she couldn’t afford to. She wouldn’t accept failing.
The sound of Lowe’s enthusiastic barking as she made her way back to the kitchen was followed by a gentle knock on the door. Wondering who it could be—someone who must know there was a baby in the house, given the soft signal they gave for their arrival—Brighton moved to answer it before they decided to knock again, more forcefully the second time.
She opened the door to a huge display of flowers. Sebastian, she thought, remembering the many times he’d done this in the past. Sent her gifts because he wanted her to remember she was special. “Hello?” she offered, wondering who was behind the bunch of blooms.
The head that peeked around the side and into view was familiar. “He in the doghouse again?”
Brighton laughed, reaching out to take the vase from the hands of the man who’d been delivering her flowers since Sebastian had come back into her life. “Not this time,” she replied. “How’s your wife?” She breathed deeply of the bouquet, enjoying the colors and shapes as well as the scent of the flowers. “Clearly still the best florist in three states.”
“That she is. And a grandmother for the seventh time, too,” he added, his chest puffing out in pride.
“Oh, congratulations.” Brighton felt the tears starting to form, her joy and hormones both coming on strong.
“Your man told me to knock quietly, because you had a baby here.” His smile was infectious as Brighton nodded her affirmation. “I should be congratulating you.”
“Stella, her name is Stella.”
“Beautiful name for a beautiful little girl, no doubt.”
Brighton nodded again. “She’s perfect.”
“I bet she is. Now you tell that husband of yours he should be sending more flowers. It’s been too long if you’ve had a baby in the time that’s passed.”
Laughter mixed with the tears that had begun to slip from her eyes. Not wanting to confess that she’d received flowers—wondering if Sebastian had bought them elsewhere or if they didn’t know his face when he came into the store to buy them instead of ordering them over the phone—she told him she’d let him know he needed to get his act together.
He left her with some advice Brighton knew was going to stick with her.
“Enjoy these years, sweet girl. They go so fast.”
Bright Star: I got the flowers. They’re beautiful.
Sebastian: Who’s sending you flowers?
Bright Star: Not falling for that again.
Sebastian: Damn, I need new material.
Bright Star: No, you need to get home so I can thank you properly.
Sebastian: OMW!
Bright Star: LOL.
Sebastian: I’m not kiddi
ng. I’ll be home soon to see my girls.
Bright Star: I love you, you know that, right?
Sebastian: Of course. But you can keep telling me anytime you want.
Bright Star: I love you.
Bright Star: I love you.
Bright Star: I love you.
Christmas Eve—Jade and Declan’s Wedding Day
“Good morning, Jackass,” Jade murmured against Declan’s bare chest, between kisses and licks and bites.
Just one little bite.
“Mmm, yes.” His hand came up to cup the back of her head, applying just a small amount of pressure to keep her mouth on him. They’d slept in the guest room of Brighton and Declan’s house the previous night, leaving their friends and family to get their house ready for the day’s events. “Freckles.”
His voice held a note of warning, but Jade didn’t care to abide it. She was determined to enjoy her fiancé one more time before he became her husband—something she never would have guessed the last time they were in this bed together.
She’d been pet-sitting for Brighton and Sebastian. He’d finally managed to convince her to give him a second chance at a first date. And even though they’d had an amazing, if slightly bumpy, night, she would never have imagined—not even in her wildest dreams—that marriage was where they’d end up.
She’d been too afraid of him leaving to think about keeping him forever.
And yet, that’s what today was all about.
“Sweetheart”—Declan began, his voice getting rougher as Jade’s mouth moved lower—“what are yo—oh, fuck.” His back bowed as she engulfed his cock with her mouth, taking him all the way to the back of her throat and swallowing.
Her inner voice, so often the source of all her most hurtful thoughts, was blissfully silent but for one word: yes.
Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.
“Jay, I’m not going to be able to hold out. You . . . ah, you need to stop. Shit. Fuck, yes.” His words became even more garbled as Jade increased her suction, moving her lips up and down in an erratic rhythm designed to make him lose control.
He was close. She knew it.
Shaking her head, and with watering, hooded eyes and a mouth full of him, she kept going, up and down, up and down. She raised a hand to grip the base of his cock, adding more friction, giving him more reason to curse.
Loudly.
“Is everything al—righty then, looks like we should—no, no, do not come in here, Seb.” Brighton’s voice registered, as did the widening of Declan’s eyes, but Jade was too focused to worry in that moment.
Her bare ass was bent over and sticking up—though thankfully covered by the quilt—her mouth hard at work, her man on the edge. So her best friend knew she wanted to start her wedding day with a little oral adventure, who cared?
You would, if you had any dignity.
Mentally rolling her eyes at the voice trying to piss her off—or upset her, more likely—Jade doubled down on going down, loving the feel of Declan’s palm, still on the back of her head, but now pressing her lower.
Making her take him deeper.
Pulling ever so slightly on her hair as he fisted his hand and groaned as he coated her tongue and the back of her throat with his pleasure.
“God-fucking-damn, Jade. I love you.”
She sat up, dislodging his hand, and made sure he was watching as she carefully wiped the sides of her mouth. In her mind, it was sexy; a move designed to make him feel like he was too much of a good thing for her. And, judging by the way his dick jerked and his eyes flamed, it worked.
It always did.
“My turn?” she asked saucily, crawling up his body to settle in a straddle across his thighs.
“Sorry to interrupt,” came Brighton’s voice, this time thankfully on the other side of the door. “But ah, there’s things to do today. Aside from each other, I mean.”
Jade snorted out a laugh as Declan did the same, then waited for Brighton’s footsteps to retreat down the hallway before she spoke in a whisper. “Do you think it turned her on? Like, maybe she’s going to jump Seb right now.”
Declan looked aghast and, enjoying his discomfort a little too much, she continued, “I bet if we went to their room right now, we’d get a tutorial on how Stella came to be.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him, laying it on thick, so he really took on what she was saying. “Maybe she’s even showing him how bright her st—”
“Nope. Nope. No. Nooooo, stop right there. I know where you’re going with that, I do not want to join you.” His head was swishing back and forth on the pillow, his emphatic head shake making the entire bed move.
Jade’s laughter kicked up a notch and she soon found herself giggling uncontrollably. She tried several times to gasp out an apology, but gave it up for a lost cause after the fourth or fifth attempt.
The words weren’t coming.
But maybe Brighton is. The errant thought set her laughter off all over again.
When she finally calmed down enough to catch her breath, Declan rolled them so she was below him, her back pressed firmly into the mattress. He leaned in not to kiss her, but to run his nose along hers. And then, pressing their foreheads together, he told her what he was feeling—which happened to be what she was feeling, also. “I can’t wait for this, for today. I don’t want to rush it, but I want it to happen already. Make sense?”
She peered at him, his eyes closed, his face relaxed, his lips giving her the exact words she never realized she wanted to hear. Until him. “Going to make you mine today, Freckles. Forever.”
“I’m good with that,” she offered in reply, four words that would never, ever be able to convey all that she was feeling, all the excitement and nerves that left her skin feeling electric. But then, what words would be enough? None that she could think of.
“Mrs. Young.”
“Actually, I think I’ll go by Mrs. Jackass. Sounds good, doesn’t it?”
He leveled his eyes at her, then raised his head so he could give her a wink before sliding down her body and settling between her legs, his face flush with her pussy. “Know what else sounds good?” he asked, mouth hovering close to her center, the point to where all her blood was currently rushing. “The noises you make when you come.”
Brighton’s face was bright red when she made it back to the kitchen. Sebastian, cradling their sleeping daughter in his arms and looking hot as hell doing it, was shaking with silent laughter.
“It’s not funny. You didn’t have to see it.” She closed her eyes, rubbing them as if doing so would rub away the visual of Jade . . . “Oh my God, I just saw my best friend giving your best friend a blow job!”
The ridiculousness of the situation hit her then, and hit her hard. Sebastian, on the other hand, seemed to have appreciated it from the moment Brighton had warned him away. “You should have knocked,” was all he said as her own silent laughter created a quake that ran the length of her body.
“That bedroom needs a sign on the door. Or, like, one of those vacancy/no vacancy locks that public restrooms have.”
“Honestly, Bright, what did you expect? They’re getting married today.”
“I expected them to wait until they were married and spend the morning, you know, getting ready.”
He frowned at her. “Really?”
“Well, okay, no, but still . . .” She tried to find an explanation, but none was forthcoming. Probably because she didn’t have one. It was pretty stupid of her to walk into their room, without knocking, on their wedding day.
On any day, come to think of it.
Deciding to move on, because really, there was nothing else to be done about it, Brighton set about making some breakfast.
She didn’t get far before Sebastian came to take over. Her cooking was notoriously bad and though she’d improved somewhat—and had mastered making simple baby food—pancakes were still a little out of her reach.
“I’ll take care of this,” her husband said, taking the mixing bowl she had in her hands and
placing it on the counter. Then, he did something unexpected, but so Sebastian, she practically swooned. Wrapping one arm around her waist, the other still cradling Stella, he started to spin them slowly around the kitchen, her little family of three dancing to imaginary music.
“I’ll take care of you,” he added, his baby blues capturing her gaze and looking down deep, so deep. “No matter what.”
Brighton didn’t say anything in return, instead giving him a small, shallow nod and focusing on the moment.
She was happy. Her heart, which had been cloaked in an ache she couldn’t rid herself of for so long, felt light. Her head, which had thrown out doubt after regret after rebuke since she’d become a mother, was blissfully silent. And her feet, which occasionally failed her but that allowed her to walk back to the man she loved beyond measure, moved softly around her kitchen.
Her dream kitchen, in her dream house, with her dream man.
And her perfect little lady.
Yeah, right in this moment, she was happy.
Declan watched his soon-to-be wife slip a pair of lacy panties on, following them with a ratty, tatty T-shirt that he recognized as one of his own. Her faced was flushed, her eyes sparkling and her blonde hair a mess.
In a few hours, she’d have his last name as well as his heart. Unbelievable.
“Do you need anything today?” he asked, suddenly wondering how he was going to pass the hours until I do.
Jade shook her head as she slid a pair of yoga pants over her perfect ass, “No, Brighton and I are going to get ready here, and I think my sisters are coming by a little later. But”—she shrugged, looking like she, too, had no idea how else she was going to fill her day—“other than that, there aren’t any plans.”
“Is that weird?” He wasn’t sure. After all, it wasn’t like he’d ever been married before. “That we’re standing around half the day with nothing to do?”
Of course, he could do some work. He was sure he’d manage to find something that needed his attention, despite the fact it was both his wedding day and Christmas Eve. Actually, he knew for certain there were things waiting on his attention.