Let's Do It

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Let's Do It Page 18

by Ann Christopher


  Ah. So she’d found it already.

  He watched her, wishing he’d turned the porch light on after all. He was desperate to gauge her reaction and equally desperate not to pressure her because this whole thing was on her timetable. If she said she wanted to marry him on top of the Space Needle ten years from now, he’d be there with a tux on. He’d be unhappy and impatient, but he’d be there.

  Sliding his hands into his pockets, he shrugged. “Didn’t you say every woman in the world knows what a box like that means?”

  She stared down at it, retracting her hand. “Yeah, but it’s red.”

  “Come again?”

  “The one you had before was black.”

  Oh, he got it. “You don’t actually think I’d give you a ring I’d bought for someone else?”

  Her brows contracted with confusion. “But—”

  “I went back to return the other ring yesterday, I turned around to leave the store, and your ring caught my eye. I knew it was for you. Just like I knew—I know—that you’re for me. And I’m not trying to pressure you. We need to get to know each other, and you need to get to know Ella, and there’s no timetable. I’m fine with that. But you have to know—”

  He broke off, his emotions getting the best of him.

  “Know what?” she asked quietly.

  He stepped closer, pressing his lips together while he worked on dialing back some of his intensity. “That I’m crazy in love with you and you’re the only woman—the only woman—I could ever marry.”

  “Edward,” she whispered, tears shimmering in her eyes.

  No pressure, man. Do. Not. Pressure. Her.

  “So,” he said, clearing his throat again. “When you’re ready to open that box and see what’s inside, it’ll be there. And I’ll be here with you. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

  Laughing and crying, all at the same time, she swiped her eyes and slid the box back into her pocket. “This has been a busy week here in Journey’s End, hasn’t it?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Is your offer still open? To warm me up?”

  “Oh, yeah. Come here.”

  He took her hand. Quickly led her inside the house and up to his dark bedroom in silence. Almost made it to the bed before his runaway hormones and emotions took the wheel.

  “Reeve.”

  She was right there with him, in his arms before he could pull her to him, thrusting her hips against his growing erection as though she could possibly need him the way he needed her. He rubbed all up and down her wet body, filling his hands with her thighs, ass and breasts while his mouth gorged on her beautiful face. Her lips. Her tongue.

  Their first time together, he’d cursed himself for being so greedy with her, so impatient. He’d sworn, in the lonely few nights since then, that he’d do it better the next time. Slower. Gentler. More thorough. Because there were parts of her body he still hadn’t really seen, much less touched or explored, and, above all else, he wanted to get this precious thing with Reeve right. Her pleasure was important, not his. Her timetable. Her needs.

  He could wait.

  That’s what he’d told himself, anyway.

  But her body was hot beneath the slick wetness of her clothes, plump and curvy where it needed to be, toned and muscular everywhere else. And the feel of her flesh, so vibrant against his, undid him every time he put a finger on her. The scent of roses on her skin and whatever fruity shampoo she used on her hair surrounded his brain in a delicious fog. Her breathy sighs and cries—her coos and mewls and the way she whispered his name—absolutely blew his mind.

  How was he supposed to go slow when the sexiest woman he’d ever known unraveled when he touched her? When she stared at him, in between kisses, with passion-glazed eyes? When he knew—he knew—she loved him as much as he loved her?

  He wanted to go slow, but it was Reeve who untied her own dress, squirmed out of it and let it drop to the floor. It was Reeve who swept his shirt off over his head, pressed her face to the hard thump of his heart inside his chest and raked her nails up his back. It was Reeve who kicked off her sandals, shimmied out of her panties and reached for his belt with frantic hands.

  “Yeah,” he said, panting, when she pulled his zipper down and took him firmly in hand, stroking him up and down. “Shit, yeah,” he said, his lungs straining for air.

  Her gaze flicked up to his and lingered long enough for him to see the wicked intent in her hot eyes, and he wanted her to go down on him. Wanted her to suck him deep into her slick mouth. Wanted her to lick him all over.

  But there was something else he wanted a million times more, and despite all his promises to her about taking it slow, and all his admonitions to himself about being patient, he found he couldn’t wait another second.

  Not when it felt like his soul depended on it.

  Not when he’d already handed her every part of himself on a silver platter, but she was holding out on him for no good reason.

  Taking a deep breath to cool himself down a little, he gripped her hands and brought them to his mouth for a kiss. Gentled his touch as best he could.

  “Wait,” he said, resting his forehead against hers.

  Reeve kept coming, thrusting her hips against his and chasing his mouth so she could take another kiss.

  “Wait,” he said again, gripping her wrists tight enough to catch her attention.

  “What?” Shuddering with the effort of getting her body under control, she slowed down a little and gasped for air. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. It’s perfect. I just need—”

  He broke off because it sounded too needy to say aloud. Too overblown.

  “What, baby?”

  For one second his fears got the best of him and he couldn’t answer.

  But then he remembered that her fears were enough of a barrier between them; they didn’t need any more. After tonight, nothing would come between him and Reeve. Not if he could help it.

  “Tell me,” he murmured in her ear, nipping the tender lobe as he did.

  She cried out with pleasure.

  And then she played dumb.

  “What?”

  “Tell me,” he said again.

  “I don’t—” she began, lowering her gaze when he pulled back enough to see into her face. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Yeah, no. That wasn’t going to work. Not tonight.

  “Look at me,” he said, tapping her chin with his finger.

  She glanced up, her eyes gleaming and wary.

  “It’s okay, baby.” He kissed her nose. Both corners of her mouth. Her forehead. “It’s just you and me in the dark. It’s okay. You know what I want to hear. I need you to tell me.”

  “I’m not ready,” she said, and now he could see the sheen of her tears, but they needed to get over this hurdle, so he wasn’t going to let that stop him.

  “That’s your fear talking.” He zeroed in on her mouth again, fitting his lips to hers for a kiss as exquisite as it was tender. “I want to hear from this.”

  He pointed to her heart.

  She stilled, staring up at his face, and her beautiful brown eyes took up his entire field of vision.

  “It’s okay,” he said again. “Just tell me. Get it over with.”

  Something in his expression convinced her, because she took a deep breath and leapt with him.

  “I love you,” she said. “You know I do.”

  A powerful wave of relief made him lightheaded. “I thought it was too soon?” he teased.

  “No, it’s not.” Smiling, she pulled her hands free and cupped his face. “It’s not too soon.”

  “Then tell me again,” he said, ditching his shoes and socks, shoving his pants and boxers to the floor and backing her up to the bed. Once there, he reached behind her and ripped the linens back.

  “I love you, Edward.”

  “Damn straight, you do.”

  She laughed huskily, and the last of his patience snapped in two.

  He to
ppled her to the bed and laid her beneath him, using his knee to nudge her thighs apart. She sighed and stretched out, arranging herself for him. By the time he reached for a condom in the nightstand drawer and slid it on, she had her bent legs hooked around his waist and her hips angled for his entry.

  Staring down at her, wrapped in her eager arms and legs, he wondered how he’d ever gotten so lucky. So blessed.

  The emotion of it caught in his throat, making his voice hoarse.

  “One more thing,” he said, clearing the rasp out of his vocal cords. “You’re going to be here in the morning when I wake up, aren’t you?”

  “Oh, Edward,” she said in her mellow siren’s voice as she tightened her thighs, bringing him closer. “I’m going to be in this bed with you all weekend.”

  Nodding with immense satisfaction, he thrust deep inside her, savoring the wet heat of her body as much as her choked cry of pleasure.

  “That’s more like it,” he said as he began to circle his hips.

  * * *

  Chapter 20

  Reeve tapped on Edward’s front door at around three that Sunday afternoon, her heart thudding in her throat. Funny to remember how nervous she’d been to meet Mrs. B for the first time all those years ago. That anxiety was nothing compared to the bat-sized butterflies flapping around her stomach at the moment. Mrs. B was no longer looking so bad to her.

  What the hell would Reeve do if things went badly today?

  Smoothing her dress and hair, she glared down at Muffin, who was sitting politely at her feet and had, of course, followed her over here.

  “Don’t you blow this for me,” she said, pointing at the cat’s face. “I was invited. You weren’t. So you need to go on back home. Got it, buster?”

  Indifferent to her plight, Muffin raised a paw and began to wash his face.

  “Who’s that at the door, Ella?” came Edward’s voice from inside. “Who’s that?”

  With that, the door swung open.

  Whereupon Muffin streaked inside, brushing past Edward’s ankles.

  “Muffin!” Reeve called. “We talked about this! I told you not to—”

  Realizing Edward was staring at her with raised brows, Reeve stopped bellowing after her disappeared cat and focused.

  “Hi, Edward,” she said, trying to sound casual. “How are you?”

  “I’m good.” Edward turned to Ella, who was perched on his hip. “Look, Ella. Reeve came to visit us. Can you say hi? Can you say hi?”

  Ella hit Reeve with a look as steady as it was dubious.

  Reeve held her breath.

  The child really had the face of an angel, especially now that she’d recovered from her ear infection. Plump brown cheeks with rosy apples. A pouty berry mouth. A button nose, sleekly arched little brows, the wide brown eyes of a doe.

  Adorable.

  Today she wore a cute blue top with blue plaid shorts, tiny white sandals (oh, look at her cute little toes!), and her hair in Mickey Mouse Afro puffs.

  Afraid to speak lest the child decide she hated her and throw a tantrum, thereby forcing Edward to rethink his budding relationship with Reeve, which would be especially tragic after the magical couple of days they’d just passed in bed together, Reeve decided to suck it up and act like the adult here.

  “Hi, Ella,” she said, holding out her hand to shake. “Remember me? I’m Reeve.”

  And Ella, to her gratified astonishment, did remember.

  For the second time, she stuck out her hand for a handshake with Reeve.

  Then, apparently lapsing into a sudden attack of shyness, she turned her head away and pressed her face to Edward’s shoulder.

  This gave Reeve the opportunity to exchange an ecstatic and silent high-five with Edward.

  “Come on in,” he said aloud, swinging the door shut behind her. “We were just about to play with blocks.”

  “Blocks?” Reeve cried. “I love blocks!”

  That snagged Ella’s attention again. Raising her head, she looked around with keen interest just as Edward lowered her to the floor in front of the sofa, where a plastic bin full of blocks was waiting.

  Reeve and Edward sat cross-legged on the floor.

  Ella levered herself up via the sofa cushions, cruised over to the bin, dumped all the blocks out and picked up a red one.

  “Can I play, Ella?” Reeve asked, pointing to the blocks. “Can I play?”

  Ella frowned down at the block in her hand, thought it over and handed the block to Reeve.

  Reeve nearly expired with delight on the spot. “Thank you, Ella!”

  Ella grinned at her, displaying dimples and the beginnings of four tiny white teeth.

  “Oh, my God, Edward,” Reeve said in a stage whisper, breathless with gratitude for this tiny overture at friendship. “I love this child.”

  “I love you,” he told her, eyes gleaming with quiet satisfaction. “I love you.”

  Ella thrust another block at her before she could respond.

  And that was the moment Muffin decided to make his untimely reappearance.

  Trotting back into the room from parts unknown, he plopped his furry orange butt in the center of things, which was right on top of Ella’s blocks, and stretched out, getting comfortable.

  Gaping at him, Ella reached out to touch Muffin.

  “Be gentle, Ella,” Edward said, watching the proceedings with an eagle eye.

  Ella’s little hand patted Muffin’s head.

  Muffin raised a paw and swatted her hand away.

  Ella reflexively jerked back.

  Reeve exchanged a worried glance with Edward and held her breath.

  Until Ella shrieked with sudden laughter.

  “Cat!” she cried, pointing at Muffin. “Cat!”

  Edward gasped. “I didn’t know you could say cat,” he told Ella. “Good girl! Cat. Cat.”

  “Cat!”

  And then, to Reeve’s complete astonishment, Edward’s eyes teared up.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, alarmed.

  Edward laughed, shaking his head at himself. “This is my family,” he said simply. “It just hit me.”

  “Cat! Cat!”

  Grinning, Reeve reached across the baby, the cat and the blocks to take his hand. “Yeah,” she said. “This is our family.”

  * * *

  Epilogue

  Five Years Later

  Edward and Reeve ducked out of the hotel ballroom, where the black-tie fiftieth anniversary party for Edward's parents was in full effect, and around the corner to a smaller meeting room. Reeve raised a hand to knock, but Edward stopped her by swinging her around, into his embrace.

  The better to nuzzle her neck, which still smelled like roses after all these years, and still drove him wild.

  “Hey!” With a throaty laugh, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, tipped her head to the side and gave him all the access he wanted. “Watch the hair!”

  He ran his lips across her cheek to her ear and scraped the fragile shell with his teeth. She shivered with delight. He held her closer. “Have I told you how gorgeous you look tonight?”

  “Hmm.” Pulling his head down a little, she whispered in his ear. “Have I told you how I can’t wait to have you inside me later on tonight?”

  Groaning, he gave in to temptation and cupped her delicious ass in both hands. She was wearing a slinky little black dress with a pair of negligible panties, and little else, as far as he could tell. Getting to the bottom of this mystery was becoming a pressing issue.

  “Later on?” he complained.

  Without warning, the conference room door swung open. James and Miranda emerged, laughing, and checked at the sight of them.

  “You two need to get a room,” James said dryly. “I’m told they have them upstairs.”

  “Good idea. What say you, Wife?” Edward asked.

  Smacking his arm, Reeve wriggled free. “Don’t even try it,” she warned before turning to James. “How'd it go?”

  “Fine,” James sa
id. “It's a little weird with the lights right in your face, but just look into the camera and talk about how you met and what you've learned about marriage and whatnot. Keep it simple.”

  “Did the folks see you slip out?” Miranda asked anxiously.

  “No,” Reeve assured her. “They were still trying to make it to all the tables and thank everyone for coming.”

  “I'm so excited.” Miranda clapped her hands. “They're going to die when they see the video. All their sons and their wives! What a great present! They're going to love it. I just hope no one lets the cat out of the bag tonight.”

  “I've already threatened instant death to anyone who slips up, so I wouldn't worry about it,” James said.

  They were all still laughing when Sean Baldwin, the executive chef at Harper Rose Bistro, the family restaurant on DeGroot Street, strode up looking harried.

  “What’s up, Chef?” Edward asked, shaking his hand.

  “Trying to track down my wife.” Sean flashed a rueful smile. “I feel like I’ve been looking for her half my life.”

  “Oh, she was over by the cake a minute ago, Sean,” Reeve told him, pointing back toward the ballroom. “She was looking for you, too.”

  “I need to put a bell on that woman,” Sean said, grinning as he headed off again with a wave.

  Just then, the videographer poked his head out of the room. “How’re y’all doing? I’m Marvin. You ready?”

  “As we'll ever be,” Edward said, taking Reeve's hand and leading her inside. “We'll catch you two later,” he told James and Miranda, who waved and headed back to the ballroom.

  “Get yourselves comfortable.” Marvin pointed to a bench sitting under a white umbrella, went to stand behind his camera and turned it on with a sudden blaze of lights. “You know the deal, right? We want to hear how you met, when you knew you were in love, what you've learned about marriage—that sort of thing. Who wants to go first?”

  “I do.” Edward sat, pulled Reeve down beside him and slung his arm around her shoulders. “I want to talk about love at first sight. Never believed in it.”

  Reeve, knowing where this story was going, grinned.

 

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