Calendar Girl: November: Book 11

by Carlan, Audrey

  He was right behind me, spurting hotly with each thrust, until we were both gone. Boneless and sated, still connected against a giant tree in the Texas woods.

  Chapter Eight

  When we’d cleaned ourselves up as best we could, Wes grabbed my hand and led me back toward Max’s house.

  “I’m going to buy this property from your brother. We’ll find that house, renovate it, or demolish it and build whatever you want brand new,” Wes said completely off topic.

  My mind was nowhere near land purchases and house renovation. It was still back in utter bliss, wedged up against a tree being pounded by the man I loved.

  Once the words finally reached the coherent part of my brain, I stopped dead in my tracks. We still had time before the Thanksgiving dinner. “I’m sorry. Excuse me if I don’t follow after you just fucked me up against a tree not more than ten minutes ago. Say what?”

  Wes licked his lips as if he still tasted me on them. He probably did. After he’d taken me with his mouth, he fucked me into oblivion against the tree, and I had the trunk rash to prove it. When I shifted my shoulders, I could feel my jacket and sweater grating along the sensitive spots. Maybe I’d get lucky and there wouldn’t be any physical marks, just the soreness to remind me of our tree romp.

  “I’m going to talk to Max about purchasing this section of land next to his. He’s got hundreds of acres, and he said this one was once a farm as well as the one even farther down. Said they were both vacant.”

  I tried to comprehend all that he was suggesting. “We haven’t even seen the house. We barely scratched the surface of the property. How do you really know you want it?”

  Wes turned around and looked at the massive copse of trees we’d just left along the second section of open land leading to Maxwell’s ranch. He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter what it looks like. We can build something that we want if we don’t like what’s on it. The point is, we’d have a family home. Away from the glitz and glamour of southern California.”

  I held up my hands. “Wait a minute. Are you saying you want to leave Malibu?” I was monumentally confused—and it wasn't just from the afterglow from mind-blowing sex. “You love the beach. I love the beach.” I pointed at my chest, my heart already tightening at the thought of our Malibu place not being ours anymore.

  “True. But we have money. Lots of it. More than we’re ever going to need. And with your career on the path it’s on, you’ll want a place that you can escape to when California becomes too much. Plus, you said yourself that Madison is going to move out here when she’s done with school.”

  “Actually, she mentioned she’s going to move out here after her undergrad. Max is going to set her up to go to school here for her master's and doctorate so she can start work at Cunningham Oil in the meantime. Matt’s and his family are going to come out, too.”

  Wes’s face lit up. Seemed the more he thought about the idea, the more animated he got. “It’s perfect. They can live on that other side. Matt said he and his family are into farming. They can farm both our land and theirs. Of course, we’ll partner in that, and we’ll have a home away from home. One we can visit monthly. Then you won’t miss out on Isabel and Jackson’s childhood and be away from your brother and sister for too long. It’s a win-win.”

  All that he was offering was more than I could have ever hoped for. The depths to which I loved this man were limitless. “You’d do that for me?” I asked, my voice clogged with love and happiness.

  He shook his head. “No. I’d do that for us. You don’t want to be without your sister, and I don’t want to be without my family. We’ll have a home in both places. Plan to fly out at least once a month. We’ll make it a regular thing so that every month we spend a few days at our Texas home. And when we’re not filming, we’ll come out for weeks at a time. Really, whenever we want. I’m sure we could set up Cyndi with the job of checking on things and airing it out now and again.”

  He didn’t see it coming, but he did catch me when I jumped up, wrapped my legs around his waist, and kissed him with all my might. “I love you.” I kissed his cheeks. “I love you.” I kissed his forehead. “I love you.” I kissed his chin. “I love you.” I kissed his eyes. “I love you so much and cannot wait to marry you!” I screamed out before laying my lips over his.

  Wes, to his credit, appreciated my brand of crazy and laughed through it all, until he couldn’t, because his lips were too busy kissing mine.

  * * *

  “Yes! I’m not kidding. No, Mom, I’m not. We want to have a small beach ceremony on our property in Malibu and then have the reception at your place.” Wes laughed and ran a hand through his hair. His smile was painted on the moment he called his mother to not only announce that we were getting married, but that we’d be doing it so quickly.

  “I know it’s only six weeks away. I’ll hire a planner to knock it out. No, Mom, you don’t… Mom, we didn’t call to tell you this so that you’d take on the burden.”

  Speak for yourself. There was no way I wanted to plan a wedding. If it were up to me, we’d say our I do’s on the beach and fuck like rabbits in our own bed immediately following. I didn’t need a cake and the whole rigmarole. Just Wes. That’s all I needed.

  Wes turned and looked at me. I was sitting on the bed, legs crossed, hunched forward so my elbows were on my knees and my hands steepled under my chin. I watched my guy pace the floor, that huge smile still in place.

  “I know it’s crazy, but Mom, I’m crazy in love. No, it’s not too much. I’m fine. Actually, this will make me better than ever. Marrying the woman I want to spend my life with will help the healing process even more.”

  Wes believed that I was the reason he was doing so well after his captivity. I believed it was his shrink, but there were still facets that he needed to work through. His newfound jealousy for one, and two, his absolute need to set his future up right now. The good news? He hadn’t had a nightmare in well over a week. Here in Texas, he was actually sleeping better than ever. Back home, he’d startle awake, walk out to our beach, and listen to the ocean until he was tired enough to go back to bed. Too many nights, I found him pacing the beach, watching the ocean instead of curled around me sleeping. Not in Texas. Here, under my brother’s roof, with the entire clan in the same house, he slept the sleep of the dead. Maybe there was something to getting away from the hubbub. Wes seemed to take solace in the quiet of the Texas nights.

  Wes stopped pacing. “Really? You’re going to take care of the reception part?” His eyes cut to mine. “Mia looks sensational in green,” he said, leering at me. “I know she won’t be wearing it. Let me ask her.”

  “Mia, what colors do you want the wedding?”

  I frowned. “I don’t know. There has to be a color?” Huh? It never dawned on me to worry about these things. I mean I’ve seen weddings in movies where there were a horde of bridesmaids. For me, I just wanted Maddy and Gin.

  “Mom says you have to pick two colors so she knows what type decorations to buy.”

  “Whatever she wants is fine,” I said, not really concerned.

  “Ma, no. Mia’s just not girly in that way. I mean…” His eyes ran up and down my body. “She is definitely all woman, but she doesn’t trip about these types of things. No really…seriously, you can pick whatever you want. No she doesn’t care. Mom…” He went back to pacing.

  Hearing him going back and forth with his mother on something that obviously should be my responsibility, I shouted. “Light green and cream.”

  Wes stopped. “Hold on. What colors, sweetheart?”

  Shyly, I twiddled my thumbs and tugged my fingers. “I think light green and cream would be pretty.”

  Wes grinned huge. God, he was easy to please. “Mia said light green and cream. Oh, yeah. Simple flowers. Whatever you want. Yes, whatever you want.” He rolled his eyes, pointed at the phone and made a crazy face. “Mia and I will take care of the ceremony. Yes, we’ll get chairs, an arbor, and all that. Mom, just focus on the recep
tion. How many people?”

  I did a quick count of the folks I wanted to invite: Maddy, Matt, Maxwell, Cyndi, the kids, Ginelle, Tai and Amy, Anthony and Hector, Mason and Rachel, Warren and Kathleen, Alec, Anton and Heather, Aunt Millie, my father if he wakes up, and maybe a handful more. “Twenty-five for me.”

  “Twenty-five. Hold on, Ma.” He pressed the cell phone to his chest. “That’s it? For the ceremony only, right?”

  I shook my head. “No, that’s it overall.”

  Wes blinked. “Ma, we’re having a small wedding. Mia is only inviting max twenty-five people. So you’re going to need to limit the ceremony at the beach to family only. Yes, I’m serious.”

  Internally, I groaned. I hadn’t even looked at wedding dresses, and my lack of family and extended relatives was making me look like a loser to my soon-to-be mother-in-law.

  “What do you mean who? Jeananna and her family, my immediate family, Ma. We’ll hash this out later. Get our list to thirty or less for the beach. Invite whoever the hell you want to the reception, but we’re keeping it simple. Mia and I are not into the fluff. A good meal, some booze, a little dancing, and we’ll be set. Right, Mia?”

  I grinned. My guy knew me well. “You got it!” I blew him a kiss, and he waggled his brows.

  “Okay, I gotta go. Happy Thanksgiving to you and Dad and the family. Tell everyone I love them, and we’ll be home soon. Yes, we’ll be home for Christmas. Love you, too.”

  Wes hung up the phone and threw it on the bed before body tackling me. “You are so lucky I love you as much as I do. That was brutal.”

  “Talking to your mom was brutal?” I teased.

  “No. Talking to my mom about planning a wedding when neither one of us really cares about anything other than the I do part. You owe me.” He thrust his hips against me, and I wrapped my legs around him, bringing his body closer.

  “Mmm. And how shall I pay up?” I curled a lock of his hair around a finger.

  “Be my sex slave for the rest of your natural life,” he quipped instantly.

  I grinned. “Dirty boy. I think we can work out a solid compromise.”

  “Nuh-uh. I want you for life.”

  Lacing my fingers through his hair, I kissed him. “I think that’s doable.”

  “No, you’re doable.”

  I laughed. “That joke again!”

  He snickered and spread a bunch of kisses up my neck. “It’s an oldie but goodie.”

  “You mean like a hand job?”

  His face came up from where he was nuzzling. “What a perfect analogy. A hand job is also an oldie but goodie. Can I have an old goodie now?”

  On that note, I moved my hand between us. The second I got my fingers wrapped around the button on his jeans, pounding on the door startled us. We both jumped back as if someone had tossed a bucket of ice water on us.

  “Cyndi says it’s chow time! Come on down,” Max said through the door. At least he had the good grace not to walk in. I couldn’t remember if I’d locked the door or not.

  Then farther down the hall we heard Max banging again and repeating the dinner call except that time he said, “Soup’s on.”

  Wes helped me up. “Oh, and Ma said Thanksgiving is at their place next year.” He sucked in a breath through his teeth.

  I shook my head. “Then you’re telling Max. Preferably when I’m nowhere in sight.”

  “Scaredy-cat!” He grinned, looped his fingers with mine, and led me out of the room and down the hall to our first Thanksgiving dinner together. The first real Thanksgiving that I could ever remember.

  Only problem, I missed Pops. He’d love sitting at a big table filled with family. It wasn't something we ever had growing up, though he’d tried, in his own way. I recalled many a Thanksgiving where he’d make fried chicken or he’d pick it up from Kentucky Fried Chicken on one of the days that he wasn’t completely drunk and missed the holiday all together.

  Still, I missed him.

  * * *

  Cyndi and Max had outdone themselves. For a couple with a newborn, they blew the top of the Thanksgiving festivities. In a large room off the kitchen, the sixteen-seat dining room table was set and prepped for the six adults and one child. Jackson was sleeping cozily in a bassinet off to the side of the head of the table. Soft music played—some Chopin piece. I only knew that pianist because he was my favorite, although Wes was exposing me to more of the classics. He liked to listen to classical music when we were driving in the car or sitting on the deck looking out over the ocean.

  The table had a gold runner down the center. The settings were closer to one end of the table than the other which actually left room for all the food, which had already been put on the table. Max and Cyndi had prepared a feast and then some. The plates, crystal, and utensils sparkled in the candlelight. The effect was unbelievably beautiful. I’d never sat at a table like this. Never even dreamed I would ever have the opportunity.

  Everyone shuffled in and stood behind their chairs. Max held out his hands. “Let’s all say grace.”

  Max took us through a prayer and ended with a moment of silence to send out thanks and love to those who were not with us today. Again, my thoughts turned to my father lying comatose in a hospital bed in Las Vegas. Alone. On Thanksgiving. Even though we often didn’t celebrate the holiday for one drunken reason or another, we’d still been together. Who was with him now? Nobody. I felt my chest constrict, and I rubbed at the spot.

  “You okay?” Wes whispered, holding out my chair for me to sit. Ever the gentleman.

  Actually, each man held out his woman's chair. Max even made a point to pull out Isabel’s chair for her before he took his own.

  “I’m fine. Just sad that my father isn’t here to spend the holiday with us. I think he’d like this.”

  “He would.” Maddy gave a soft smile and took her seat.

  Once all of us were seated, we started passing the food. There was turkey, homemade stuffing, mashed potatoes, corn, gravy, green bean casserole, cranberry sauce, fresh baked rolls and more. Honest to God, there wasn’t enough room on my plate.

  “Does everyone eat like this on Thanksgiving?” I asked, contemplating my loaded plate.

  “Right!” Maddy snorted and lifted up her plate. “I can’t even fit everything!” She laughed.

  Max, Cyndi, Matt, and Wes all stopped and looked at both Maddy and me. “What?" I questioned. "I mean, this is a lot of food for one dinner.”

  Wes’s jaw clenched, and Max lifted his hand to his mouth. “When was the last time you and Maddy had a Thanksgiving dinner, bird and all?”

  I looked around at the insane amount of food. There would be no way we could eat all of this. Though with the way my mouth was watering at the smell alone, I’d definitely make a wholehearted effort.

  “Um, I don’t know. Mads?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “We’ve not had a turkey dinner before now. I mean, we’ve had turkey at the casino, and I’ve attempted turkey breast before, but nothing like this. Reminds me of the buffets in Caesar’s. Now they did Thanksgiving. Remember that year we sneaked in!” She giggled, and I smirked, remembering how we’d decided we were going to have a Thanksgiving dinner if it killed us. So we left the house, walked the two miles to the strip, and sneaked in to Caesar’s Palace.

  There were so many people hanging around they didn’t even notice the two little girls that loaded up plates and walked right out. Or maybe they didn’t care as long as we ate. It sounded very much like one of those sad After School Specials, but we had a blast.

  I laughed. “Best thanksgiving dinner we had…well, until now,” I said while shoving in a mouthful of turkey slathered in gravy. “Oh, man, this is so good!”

  Max crossed his hands over his chest. “You mean to tell me that you’ve never had a Thanksgiving dinner sitting around the table until now? When you’re twenty-five and twenty-one?”

  I thought about it. Honestly, it had never dawned on either of us that we were missing out. You couldn’t r
eally miss something you’d never had. Instead of responding, I just shook my head and tasted the homemade stuffing. “To-die-for stuffing, Cyndi!” I complimented.

  Her face lit up, and she preened under the praise. “Thank you. Wait until you try Max’s green bean casserole. He doesn’t cook much, but he can make a mean casserole!” She laughed.

  I was thankful that she helped steer the conversation away from the past. When she looked up, I mouthed my thanks to her. She nodded and went back to eating.

  Silence hit the table after that, the atmosphere feeling a bit tense. I had to fix it. This was our first Thanksgiving, and I wanted everyone to be happy. “Oh! Wes and I have an announcement.”

  Maddy’s eyes widened. “You’re pregnant!”

  I made a gagging sour face. “God, no! Yikes, Maddy.”

  Wes laughed at my response and held me around the waist while I stood next to his chair. “Don’t worry. We’re planning for a couple mini Channings in the future, but we’d like to get married first.”

  I shook my head. “Yeah, Mads. Jeez. What I was going to say though is we’ve set a date.” The entire table waited for me to finish. “January first, New Year’s Day.”

  “This year?” Maddy gasped.

  The biggest, cheesiest smile crossed my face. I couldn’t help it. I was getting married in… “Five weeks!”

  “Oh my god. That’s so soon. Are you sure you’re not pregnant?” Her brow furrowed as did Matt’s, but for very different reasons. Maddy’s because it was unheard of for me to have committed to a guy enough that I’d be getting married in the first place, let along doing so in five weeks. Matt’s was more because I told him to wait two years before marrying my sister. I could imagine this revelation was not making him happy, but he pasted a smile on his face anyway. Yep, good guy.

  “Well, I’ll be darned! Where?” Max asked his eyes alight with joy. To him, marriage meant family. And he was all about family.