by Linda Kage
Oren glanced at him. Then he sniffed, “Yeah, as long as I give your sister up, though, right?”
Noel just kind of shrugged. “Meh. After you saved her life too, I figure you’re stuck with her now.”
“Saved her life too?” Oren said slowly, turning his gaze to me.
I wasn’t going to answer him, but Noel had to say, “After you started to fall in, she tried to pull you out.”
Oren whirled to me. “Christ, Caroline. You didn’t? You could’ve fallen in, too.”
“She almost did,” Noel seemed eager to blab. “She was slipping toward the edge, but you let go of her hand so she wouldn’t.”
“You’re fucking right I did.” Oren nodded as if there were no other logical step.
I shook my head. “I might’ve been able to save you, hold on long enough until Noel made it to us.”
But he shook his head too. “I don’t care. What you did sounds too risky. Never in a million years would I let anything bad happen to you. For that, I guess I can handle a couple scars. I was too damn handsome anyway.”
Though everyone else laughed, I stared at him, amazed over how lucky I was to be the woman he loved. I knew I didn’t deserve it, but I was going to cherish it with everything I had.
Noel grasped his shoulder. “Hey,” he murmured.
When Oren looked up at him, my brother gulped loudly. After swallowing away his pride, he said, “I’m sorry.”
My husband frowned and shook his head slightly. “For what?”
“Being a fucking ass these past few weeks.”
Oren shrugged. “You’re always an ass. So, what’s new?”
Noel let out a strangled laugh that sounded as if it might turn into a sob. Then he rasped. “You know what the hell I’m talking about.”
But Oren shook his head. “No. I really don’t. You thought Caroline was in danger, so you did everything within your power to protect her. I’m not going to forgive that shit. I’m glad you did it. I would’ve been pissed if you hadn’t done anything.”
With a shake of his head, Noel refuted him. “You’re glad I did all that shit against you?” He didn’t sound as if he believed it.
But Oren reached out slowly and grasped my brother’s arm. “I’m glad you did it against whoever you thought was a threat to her. But I’m also glad you finally fucking realized I’m not a threat.”
“Yeah.” Noel wiped his face as if to make sure it was still dry. “Me too.” Then he drew in a deep breath. “So...coffee? The next Saturday morning after you get out of this place? I might actually buy this time.”
Oren smiled at him before turning his gaze my way. “You got it, bud.” Then he snapped his fingers as he kept his gaze on me. “Hart,” he called. “Isn’t it tradition for you to start singing some bullshit song for us right about now?”
“Really?” Asher’s voice was dry. “You’re going to make me do that again?”
Oren merely kept grinning at me. “Fuck, yeah. I’m the one lying in the damn hospital bed. What I say goes.”
“Fine. But you owe me for this.” And so Asher began to sing. I laughed as the lyrics to “Sweet Caroline” filled the air.
But Oren didn’t laugh. He just gazed at me, his eyes bright with love and awe as he silently mouthed the words to the song. When Eva, Reese, and Pick joined in at the chorus, Oren tugged me closer.
“I love you,” he murmured. “Thank you for being here when I woke up and bringing me back to myself.”
“I love you, too,” I murmured back. “Thank you for coming back.”
“For you? Always.”
Five Years Later
In college, drinking games had rocked because they usually meant I could get some drunk chick to do me. Tonight, I wanted to roll my eyes and groan. Oh, wait. I had just rolled my eyes and groaned. But fuck, I was an old married fart now. Okay, maybe not old, but definitely aged to perfection. Still, I didn’t need alcohol to get laid tonight.
All the couples sitting on the floor in a circle around a hotel ottoman were just as old and married as I was, too. So why were we bothering? There would be no random hooking up after this or me waking up in some strange place with vital pieces of clothing missing.
We’d all just wander back to our respective rooms and curl into bed with our significant others, then wake up before the ass-crack of dawn to catch early flights back home. So why were we playing a stupid fucking drinking game?
“Oh, damn,” I grumbled, clutching my side. “I think I just popped my hip out of place from sitting on this fucking floor.”
Gam kicked me, in the very hip that I was cradling. The fucker. “Stop being a baby. You sound like an eighty year old instead of twenty-seven.”
“Feeling closer to eighty,” I complained, glaring at him as I rubbed the spot he’d kicked. “Asswipe.”
Next to him, his wife slapped a hand over her mouth and started giggling. The game had her completely lit. I still didn’t want to play, but okay, it was funny as hell to see Shakespeare drunk. It was her first weekend away from their new kid, and you could tell. The poor woman seemed starved for a little bit of adult freedom.
“Let me hold that for you, babe.” Gamble reached for her bottle of chick liquor, but she held it out away from him and leaned the rest of her body his way as she puckered her mouth for a kiss.
“I’d rather you hold me instead.”
“Ack! God.” Wincing, I lifted my hand to shield my eyes from the lip-lock that followed. “Really? You’re going to make me watch your porn after I’m already being forced to suffer through this stupid-ass game where Shakespeare’s cheating by sneaking drinks between each turn and these two can’t even participate?”
I hooked my thumb toward Milk Tits and Buttercup, who were both big and swollen with pregnancy, and therefore banned from drinking any spirits.
Buttercup rolled her eyes as she took a sip from her sparkling grape juice—another cheat, sneaking drinks. “Getting drunk isn’t the point.”
Frowning, I lifted an eyebrow. “Then what’s the goddamn point of a drinking game?”
“Reconnecting,” Milk Tits answered. “It’s been forever since we’ve all been together. We’re just trying to have a little fun, Ten. Gah. Don’t be such a fun hater.”
I sighed. Stupid games were not my idea of reconnecting or having fun. I thought we’d done a damn fine job of catching up at dinner before the concert, and I’m sure all the guys would’ve backed me on that...if they’d been willing to go against their wives’ opinions.
Whipped pussies.
Appreciating Caroline to hell and back for never making me feel as if I couldn’t voice my own fucking outlook, I slung my arm over her knee and stroked the length of her soft calf. She sat on the chair next to me, and I was already leaning against her leg for support.
When her fingers burrowed into my hair in response, I almost purred contentedly. God, I loved this woman. I would honestly do anything for her, even leave our perfect nest in Lake Tahoe—where I’d eventually gotten another opportunity to apply for that job and accepted it this time, and Caroline had transferred colleges to graduate with a filmmaking degree—to travel all the way back to Chicago and watch Asher Hart and his band Non-Castrato in their first big performance at the Metro.
Okay, so maybe I was proud of the guy, too, and I’d also wanted to watch his concert, which fine, had been pretty kick-ass, and the backstage passes he’d sent us had been even sweeter—but I never would’ve admitted all that aloud. Instead, I had to piss and moan about it because that’s just the way I rolled.
But getting together with the rest of the crew in Pick and Milk Tits’s hotel room afterward to play “reconnecting” drinking games really did suck ass.
“Ooh, it’s my turn.” Buttercup was a little too giddy as she snatched a folded sheet of paper from the pile in the center of our circle and opened it. After clearing her throat, she read the message aloud. “I think this game fucking sucks.” Tipping her face to the side, she sent me a dry
look. “Ten.”
“Wow,” I said, unimpressed, “You figured out that one was mine.” Setting my hand over my heart, I fluttered my lashes her way. “You know me so well.”
She sniffed. “No, unlike some people here, I actually have a good memory. You said that very phrase aloud not thirty seconds ago.”
“Oh, you’re going to go with the memory bash, huh? That’s low, Mrs. Lowe. Just low.”
Every once in a while, I still had blanks in my memory. I remembered absolutely nothing from the picnic on the day of my accident, and sometimes Caroline had to remind me of things we’d done when we were dating, but I never forgot how much she meant to me, which was all that mattered. “Next time, just go after my fucked-up face, why don’t you?”
Actually, everyone had gotten so used to my scars they usually didn’t even see them.
“But they’re kind of cute.” Buttercup reached out to trace the deepest one down my jawline. “So that would defeat the purpose of trying to make fun of you.”
“This one’s my favorite.” Caroline touched the one that bisected the corner of my left eyebrow. I grinned up at her.
“I kind of like the swirly one on his chin.” Blondie grinned over at me as she wrapped her arm around Ham’s bicep and rested her cheek on his shoulder.
When I winked at her, Gamble groaned. “What the hell? The asshole gets mutilated, and chicks still dig him?”
“Hey, I’m just a loveable guy.” Resting my cheek on Caroline’s thigh, I grinned up at her, and she grinned back, letting me know she agreed.
“Yeah, a loveable guy who hasn’t stopped bitching and complaining since he entered my room,” Pick muttered. He flicked a finger to the pile of paper pieces on the floor. “And whose turn it happens to be.”
I groaned. “You all are really going to make me keep playing, aren’t you?”
“Just pick a damn piece of paper already,” Lowe growled.
With a scowl his way, I pulled away from the warmth and comfort of my woman to lean forward and snag a scrap.
Grumbling under my breath, I undid every annoying fold and then widened my eyes before focusing on the words. “I’m pregnant and don’t know how to tell my husband,” I read aloud, before immediately guessing, “Milk Tits.”
Milk Tits frowned at me as she set her hand on her huge belly. “Um...I think it’s safe to say Pick knows by this point.”
“Fine.” I rolled my eyes, took a drink, because that meant I’d lost my turn. But then I still had to guess until I got the right answer. “Buttercup, then.”
She snorted and rubbed her belly as well. “If you don’t think I let Mason know every chance I get that I’m five months pregnant with his twins, then you’re insane.”
“And she really does let me know...every chance she gets,” Mason added. When his wife shot him a dark look, he quickly added, “And I love it every time she does.” Then he broke off a piece of the chocolate bar he was holding and hand-fed her the chunk. She immediately sighed and closed her eyes, appeased.
Damn, Lowe was good. I’d have to remember that trick for when Caroline—shit. She couldn’t get pregnant. I’d been a douche and forgetting that a lot lately. I blamed Gamble completely. Ever since he’d knocked up Shakespeare, I’d been...antsy.
Speaking of Shakespeare, I shot her a curious glance after I took my second slug of beer.
She immediately shook her finger at me. “Don’t you even look my way, buddy. I just finished breastfeeding Beau. I am so not ready for a second one yet.”
So, I transferred my glance across the room to the couch where Parker’s wife cradled a sleeping infant in her arms and Parker cradled her in his arms. Freaking newlyweds. As the newest couple to our group, they fit in fine, but ever since they’d become parents, they liked to tuck themselves off to the side in their little family bubble. I had to admit, it was kind of cute to watch them together. If Caroline and I had a kid—shit. I had to stop thinking about us and kids.
“I’m not either,” Parker’s woman, who I’d dubbed Three, spoke up. “So, yeah, stop looking at me like that.”
“Damn.” I took two more drinks, and everyone in the room swerved their attention to Blondie.
Even Ham blinked at her with a shocked awe. “Zoey?” he asked quietly.
But she shook her head and waved his hands. “Oh, no. No, sorry, it’s not me. I think J.B. and Luke are it for us.”
She’d had enough trouble getting J.B. here. He’d ended up being born more premature than Milk Tit’s first kid had been. When Luke had come along two years later, Hamilton had been a freaking emotional mess, worried about her the entire nine months. But she hadn’t even had morning sickness with him. Incredibly, both her boys were healthy and hearty now, currently being watched by college-boy Brandt, who was also stuck back at home babysitting Gamble’s little boy with Colton—who, Jesus, was now in high school.
“Well, fuck,” I muttered after another sip. “I don’t know.” There were no more ladies left in the room to guess from. “Hart’s woman, then.”
“How could Remy toss in a turn if she and Asher aren’t even here yet?” Pick asked.
Hart had called about half an hour ago, saying he and his wife were on their way, but they still hadn’t showed up yet.
I shrugged. “Fuck if I know. There’s no other woman to choose from, unless one of you guys miraculously got yourselves knocked up.”
When silence answered me, I paused from taking a drink and scowled at them. “What?”
Buttercup jabbed her finger in the direction of the woman I was leaning against. “There’s still one woman you haven’t guessed yet.”
My arm tightened reflexively around Caroline’s leg, wanting to protect her. “Don’t be cruel.” I narrowed my eyes at Buttercup for even suggesting the idea. “Caroline can’t...”
But her leg tensed under my touch, and I looked up at her, concerned. When I met her blue eyes, they looked bright and anxious. Her lips tightened into a nervous smile as if she wasn’t sure whether to apologize or congratulate me.
“Oh my God,” Buttercup ranted. “I cannot believe you, Ten. We came up with this stupid-ass drinking game as a cutesy way to tell you you’re going to be a daddy, and you still don’t get it, even though Caroline is the very last woman in the room to guess. Gah!” She looked up at Lowe as if she might start crying, or commit murder. I wasn’t sure which. “Sometimes he just...irritates the hell out of me.”
“I know, baby. I know.” Lowe fed her another piece of chocolate and kissed her cheek. “He irritates the hell out of me, too.”
I gawked at them for another moment while my dazed brain tried to catch up. Then I whirled back to Caroline.
My shock pitched into the bottom of my stomach as my jaw dropped open. “Holy shit. You’re pregnant?”
She slowly bobbed her head up and down as her cheeks flooded with color.
I shook my head, unable to believe it, afraid to even attempt to believe it. “But the doctor said—”
“He said it was unlikely, highly unlikely,” she was quick to interrupt, “not that it was completely impossible.”
I let out a hard breath. It’d been years since we’d bothered to use any kind of contraceptive. I’d just assumed babies were impossible. Finding out I was wrong made my ears ring and my vision blur.
But Caroline was pregnant. My wife and the love of my life was going to have my baby.
“Holy fuck.” My hands went to my hair to clutch my swimming head.
“Wow, Ten,” Pick murmured, sounding impressed. “You must have some kind of super sperm to overcome odds like that.”
“You’re damn right I do,” I said, still dazed.
A hard hand clasped my shoulder. “Hey,” Gamble said seriously. “You okay, bud?”
I looked up at him and blinked him into focus. “Yeah. Why?”
His blue eyes crinkled with worry. “You look like you’re trying to check out on us. You ready to be a dad, or what?”
Dad.
Dear God, just thinking of that word being applied to me made me break out in a cold sweat. Fuck no, I wasn’t ready to be a dad. I wanted to be a good dad, like my own dad was, but how could I possibly do that when I had no clue what being a dad truly entailed? I wanted my kid to have everything amazing. The best life ever.
But then I realized it would; it’d have Caroline as a mother.
With a snort, I rolled my eyes at Gam. “You ready to be an uncle?” I challenged right back.
Genuine pleasure gleamed in his face as he smiled. “Oh, I am so ready to be your kid’s uncle. I’m going to spoil your kid more than you spoil my Beau.”
“Bring it,” I said, ready to take him on, confident I could out-spoil his kid, no problem.
“Hey, Ten,” Blondie murmured softly, jerking my attention away from Gam. When she caught my eye, she zipped her gaze to Caroline.
I looked up at my wife and straightened, instantly alarmed. Instead of full of energy and eagerness as she’d been moments ago, her face had drained of all color.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” I tugged her out of her chair and down into my lap, where I pressed my hand to her abdomen.
She covered the back of my palm with cold fingers and looked up into my eyes, worry and fear creasing her face. “Are you okay with becoming a dad?”
“Are you kidding me?” I blurted out a surprised laugh and pressed my forehead to hers. “I’m...I’m so far and gone past okay, I’m fucking trembling with it.” I cupped her face in my hands. “We’re going to have a baby, Caroline. A little piece of you, a little piece of me. I can’t...I can’t even process this it’s so fucking awesome. We’re finally getting our Inez Dumaine.”
Immediate tears filled her eyes. “Oh my God. You remember.”
“Of course I remember. Why would I forget the name you want to give our daughter?”
“I love you,” she sobbed. “I love you so much, Oren Tenning, it almost scares me.”