Beau bit his lip. Then he sent up a silent prayer, hoping that PJ’s Jennifer Lopez God was listening as he slipped the ring on her finger. “This is real,” he said, smiling at the perfect fit of it. “We are real. And I love your kind of crazy. I’m pretty sure I need it.” Joy swept through him as Beau remembered that little math lesson he’d had with his son months ago. “You even me out, Pru. I’d be the luckiest man alive if you would share your life with me. Will you marry me?”
If PJ had been blown away by the massive rock he’d just laid on her, it was nothing compared to her stunned expression when he finally popped the question. Her eyes pooled as she blew out a long, controlled, cinnamon-flavored breath. “I…”
Beau swallowed. He’d gone all-in with the grand gestures and extravagant gifts, and he was praying that it didn’t blow up in his face.
“I…” PJ began again.
“Say yes!”
The heckling cry seemed to snap PJ out of her stupor because suddenly her lips curved in a familiar smirk that had Beau breathing a heck of a lot easier. “I have a few demands,” she told him at last.
“Smart girl,” Needles Lady said.
“Oh, Lord,” her husband drawled, “you’re in for it now, son.”
Beau cocked his head, trying not to reveal just how excited he was by the prospect. “Let’s hear ‘em, Pru.”
“I want a long engagement.”
“Define long.”
“At least a year. I’m not getting hitched at eighteen. That’s flippin’ weird. Like, nobody does that anymore.”
Beau was pretty sure this wasn’t always the case, but he knew better than to argue with her. “No problem. Next summer work for you?”
“Yeah, I’m good with that.”
“What else you got?”
PJ sniffed as she mulled it over.
Beau shifted his weight a little, trying to ease some of the pressure on his knee as he waited her out. Tile floors were a bitch.
“I think my mom’s boyfriend might be allergic to her cat. When they move in together, we’re taking Dinah. That’s not negotiable.”
Beau smiled. He’d been thinking about adopting a fur baby anyways. All the cat memes had finally gotten to him. “I can handle that. Anything else?”
“Yep.” PJ’s eyes lit up with excitement. “I want a kick-ass wedding, Browning. I’m talking rock band, water features, and swans and shit.”
“That the concussion talking?”
“Only a little.”
“Do the river and pelicans count?”
“Sure do.” She grinned. “Look at us, we’re already compromising. We’re gonna be so damn good at marriage.”
“I know, Pretty Jane… I know.” Beau swallowed. He was suddenly finding it difficult to speak. He was about to bawl like a baby in front of a room full of strangers, and he didn’t give a fuck. Still, he was starting to lose sensation in his left knee, so he should probably wrap this up. He looked up into sparkling gemstone eyes, needing to hear her say the word. “Is that a yes?”
She yanked him to his feet and wrapped her arms around him. “That’s a hells, yes.”
Beau smiled through the tears. Then he found PJ’s lips with his own and kissed her with all the love in his heart as a few dozen strangers and a handful of ER nurses cheered.
Epilogue
Several months later, PJ closed the book she’d finally gotten around to reading in between work, college, co-parenting, and planning a kick-ass wedding to the man of her dreams. She was curled up on a plush cream sectional in the den facing the Colonel’s sprawling front yard. Through the windows overlooking it, she could see Beau tossing a football around out on the grass with his brothers and cousins — and a few extra friends who’d shown up for the Brownings’ Christmas Eve brunch.
There was Eli, of course. The guy didn’t pass up an opportunity to binge on Magda’s cooking. Very few people did. He also didn’t pass up an opportunity to hang out with his best friend’s cousin on the sly. PJ was on to his sexy, skinny-jean wearing, ass. Elias Park was crushing on her new BFF. There was a story brewing there. And PJ couldn’t wait to see how it played out.
Aaron Hayes was also in the mix of hot guys running around on the lawn. Janelle’s husband was new-daddy gorgeous. He’d shown up to the affair with baby drool all over his Baton Rouge Fire Department T-shirt, courtesy of his five-month-old daughter Evan, who already had the man wrapped around her chubby little finger.
Perhaps the most surprising of visitors to the White House that morning was Johnny Gable, of Gable Pool and Spas. PJ had been more than a little impressed with the maturity with which her stepfather had made peace with the dude, inviting both him and Francine to join them in the festivities.
PJ snuck a peek at the Colonel. The man stood on the sidelines with his Uncle Finn and his younger brother George, who appeared to be fully recovered from his gunshot wound in February as he was now lifting a giggling Max onto his shoulders. The Colonel wore a supremely satisfied grin as he chatted with him while simultaneously keeping an eye on the action on the field. That satisfied grin turned a little evil when George’s son, Lee, served up a hard tackle to Francine’s new husband.
Francine had come back from her Florida trip several months ago with more than just a tan and an engagement ring. She’d also come back with a bun in the oven. PJ had given her mother a whole lotta shit about this after all the safe-sex lectures. She’d also pulled maid of honor duty when her mom had married the pool guy in a gorgeous autumn wedding at Johnny’s ranch house in Denham Springs. Francine had moved into said house shortly thereafter, so she could prepare her nest for PJ’s baby brother.
PJ, meanwhile, had adopted the woman’s fur-baby. Dinah had acclimated to life at the condo like a champ. It had only taken a few cans of tuna before the feline was mewling Beau’s praises twenty-four seven.
PJ couldn’t blame the cat. The man had that effect on a girl. Every time she found him cuddling with Max, or curled up with Dinah after she got home from a long day of school and work, PJ’s ovaries did that exploding thing again. Which is why she was currently staying clear of the ladies on the porch. She didn’t need to be tempted by the baby brigade.
Janelle had her daughter wrapped up in a pink and green quilt as she rocked Evan to sleep in the patio swing. Next to her were Francine and Sarah Browning, both sporting baby bumps and ugly Christmas sweaters as they chattered away about weird baby-delivery shit. They’d been talking episiotomies when they’d walked out to join Janelle and Nadine on the porch.
PJ wanted no part of that discussion. Her ovaries might be exploding with more frequency lately, but her vagina was staying intact for at least another four years. She needed to get through college first. She and Beau had fist-bumped on this one. Then they’d fucked like bunnies. With hella birth control.
PJ sighed as her gaze swept back to the man of her dreams. Only now he was her reality. Her future. And so was this big wonderful group of people. And PJ had never been happier in her life.
PJ’s smile was as satisfied as the Colonel’s when it finally returned to the book in her hands. She’d been so caught up in her window-gazing that she’d forgotten all about it. Now, as she tossed the aged hardcover onto the coffee table in front of her, she couldn’t stifle an irritated snort.
“That good, huh?”
With a shrug for her new BFF, who was currently lounging in the chaise to her left, PJ sipped at her mug of cider. “Jane’s alright, I guess, but her man’s kind of a punk.”
Lily Browning peered over the top of her Liane Moriarty novel with an amused expression as she waited for PJ to dig a little deeper with the literary analysis.
She didn’t have to wait long.
Setting her drink down in a huff, PJ glared at the old copy of Jane Eyre lying on the table. “I mean, what in the ever-lovin’ fuck? I have been shipping the hell out of Rochester and Jane for like four hundred pages, and then it turns out he’s already married!”
“Well
, to be fair, the guy’s wife was kind of a lunatic.”
“Oh, please… so she set a few fires.” PJ stared sulkily into the flames rising over the bed of shimmering copper glass stones in the den’s fireplace. “Let’s just lock the crazy chick up in the attic and throw away the key. No way she could have been, I don’t know, rehabilitated or something.” PJ waved her hand flippantly, the bling on her finger causing her to smile for only a second before she was scowling again at the book. “I’m telling you, Bertha got the shaft, damn it! And not the good kind.”
Lily bit her lip.
The other member of their impromptu book club giggled. “Well, I’m almost done with The Siren’s Tail, and it’s got a whole lot of ‘the good kind.’ Want to borrow it when I’m done?”
PJ turned her attention to the girl sitting cross-legged in an armchair to her right. Kory Wilkes had her jet-black hair cropped short and wispy, and she was sporting skinny jeans, reindeer socks, and a festive red tank top that made the natural rosy hue of her lips even more vivid.
“Already read it,” PJ said with a wink. “Twice.”
“I know, right?” Kory’s holly-green eyes shifted back to her e-reader. “Howling is some kind of freaky genius. I’m on the yacht scene right now.”
“That was hot,” PJ said fondly.
“Yeah, Gray’s already building me this gorgeous wood bed frame for my room at Andy’s, but after reading this, I’m thinking I might want to have him modify the design to include spindles. Spindles are hot.”
“So hot,” PJ agreed.
“Especially with all the sexy little stars on the top.” Kory sighed dreamily. “I love stars.”
“They were starfish,” PJ and Lily said in unison.
PJ’s gaze swung to the chick on the chaise.
Lily’s gaze swung back to her chick lit.
“Wow. Well… kudos to Howling for making starfish spindles hot. Who would have thought?” Kory knocked back a hit of cider and went back to her reading.
“Yeah, who would have thought?” PJ murmured, her brain rapidly connecting the dots.
She’d slept in a bed with starfish spindles. More accurately, she’d had freaky sex in a bed with starfish spindles… a bed that was currently in the Browning family’s boathouse… a bed with a frame that was described in near-perfect detail in Britni Howling’s debut novel. What were the odds of that being a coincidence?
PJ stared at the Colonel’s daughter as she puzzled it out.
Lily ignored her.
PJ thought back to what Lily had told her before her birthday, about running into Howling at her book signing. How likely would that have been given the low profile the woman had been keeping so far? And for her to be a local gal and a CSA alum to boot? PJ shook her head. There were way too many coincidences piling up. Something was fishy as hell. But before she was able to finish sleuthing it all out, Grayson Browning V was striding into the den.
Little Gray, as he was sometimes called by the fam, was by no means little. He’d packed on some serious muscle weight since PJ had last seen him.
The dude had just started working at a freight company in Sacramento over the summer, but in between all the heavy lifting, he’d managed to slip off to San Diego for a couple days when PJ and Beau had gone to visit Andy and Kory in August. They’d all gone out to lunch together at some place called In-N-Out, which was significantly better than Eataburger, and there PJ had teased Gray that he looked like he was about to outgun his younger brother Lee, who was the brawniest of George’s three sons.
Now, as PJ watched Gray slipping an arm about his girlfriend’s shoulder, she couldn’t help thinking he’d probably actually done it, ‘cause the biceps were filling out the nerdy math T-shirt rather nicely.
“Hey, babe,” he said, straddling the arm of her chair as he leaned down to meet Kory’s kiss. “I’m kinda sweaty from the football. I think I’ll go take a shower before brunch.”
“You don’t smell sweaty.” Kory sniffed at his neck a little longer than appropriate. “You smell really good, actually.”
“It’s a light sweat.” Gray stared at her pointedly. “And I could really use a shower.”
“You sure do like your showers,” Lily drawled.
“Damn straight, cuz.” Gray’s sights never shifted from the girl staring up at him with lusty green eyes. “And I’ve only got a couple more days to enjoy as many as possible.”
PJ snorted. Kory was scheduled to fly back to San Diego the day after Christmas, and Gray would be returning to Sacramento a couple days after that. It wasn’t hard to figure out the subtext on this one. Gray turned to her, his chin lifting as he glanced at PJ’s hand.
“Nice rock,” he said, the smooth brown skin of his cheeks lifting as he smirked.
PJ rolled her eyes. He’d said the same thing to her in August. PJ suspected this was because she’d once told him that hell would freeze over before she was ever made a Browning.
“Brrrr…” he said now, his eyes teasing as they lifted to PJ’s. “It’s getting cold in here.”
PJ held up her ring finger. Then she held up her middle one. “Then you’d best go get that shower, cuz.”
Gray chuckled as he rose from the chair.
Kory was quick to follow suit, tossing her e-reader on the table as she hopped up. “You know, I’m feeling kinda sweaty too all of a sudden.”
“Oh, yeah?” Gray said, “you don’t look sweaty. You look really good, actually.”
“It’s a light sweat,” Kory said as she sauntered from the room.
“Have fun, kids!” PJ called after them.
Gray shot her the deuces.
Lily giggled. PJ did too. They looked at each other and smiled.
“Must be all the smutty romances.” Lily buried her nose back in her book.
PJ cocked her head at the girl’s tone. It was both waspish and strangely pleased. And the novel she was reading? Big Little Lies. PJ’s eyes narrowed on the title. Was it trying to tell her something? Was Lily capable of the kind of big little lies PJ was starting to suspect her of?
PJ’s gaze shifted to the abandoned e-reader, and suddenly she had the strongest sense that Kory’s book might be able to tell her something too. Snagging the device from the table, PJ swiped the screen to unlock it. The Siren’s Tail was still up. PJ flipped back several pages, skimming through the scene on the yacht until she got to the bit about the spindles.
Sirena dug her knobby knees into the mattress and grasped the thin metal bars in front of her, bracing herself as Elliot spread her open from behind. She wasn’t used to this feeling of being split in two. She’d only just grown used to her legs. She’d only just learned to stand, to walk, to run along the coarse dry sand she’d swam past so many times as a child of the ocean. Perhaps, this was why Elliot had brought her here for the mating, why he’d chosen this floating home over the huge dark monolith rising above the craggy rocks beyond the shore. Perhaps, this was why he’d chosen a bed adorned with gilded versions of the living stars she’d used to play with amongst her friends. He did not want her afraid.
“Are you okay,” he whispered to her now, the hairs on his chest tickling at her back, the warmth of his fingers slipping to the strange flesh between her legs.
Sirena cried out at the contact, not because it scared her, but because it felt good. Overwhelmingly good. Better than anything she’d ever felt before. And suddenly, after so many moons had passed since she’d lost her tail in her father’s devil’s bargain with Elliot’s people, she was more than a little bit happy that she had—
PJ jabbed at the e-reader’s screen, bringing up the book’s table of contents before she got sucked into the rest of the scene. She wasn’t going to glean anything else from it but starfish spindles anyways. Well, starfish spindles and the fact that Elliot was way flipping hotter than Rochester.
Britni Howling’s “About the Author” page was of no help either because the only thing personal she’d revealed about herself was that she loved reading
romance novels, and she enjoyed a good game of Bananagrams.
Pulling up the book’s cover, PJ smiled at the image of Sirena all tangled up with her man. Her mermaid’s tail swept about his legs gracefully, the tip of a fin dipping between the bold blue typeface of the author’s first and last name at the bottom of the graphic.
And that’s when PJ saw it.
Within the fin, there was a tiny stylized character she’d never noticed before. PJ zoomed in, lifting the tablet closer to her face.
“It’s an L.”
PJ looked up to find Lily had put her book down, and her bold blue eyes were locked right on her.
“I like word games,” she said quietly. “I always have. But I didn’t want to make it too easy to figure out, so I’ve always hidden the second L on the covers.”
PJ glanced back at the book. “Britni L. Howling,” she read aloud, her brain finally unscrambling the letters. “Lilith Browning.”
Lily nodded.
“Holy shit.” PJ’s eyes rounded. “You wrote this?”
Lily nodded again.
“And Debauched in Davy’s Hall?”
“Yep.”
“And the Lyken Lust trilogy?”
“They’re all mine, PJ.”
“Holy shit,” PJ said again. She was having a hard time coming up with anything else. Her mind was completely blown. Lilith-the Princess-Browning wrote smutty books. Smutty books PJ had been devouring for the past two years. PJ chucked the e-reader back on the table like it was on fire.
“I did try to warn you,” Lily said quickly. “I told you it might be a good idea to lay off the Britni Howling stuff, but then you got all butt-hurt and sabotaged my shampoo—”
“That’s ‘cause I thought you were trying to sex-shame me!” PJ hissed.
“I would never sex-shame you!” Lily cried. “I fucking hate sex-shamers.”
“Me too!” PJ hollered back.
For a moment, they just stared at each other, both trying to reign in their emotions. Then Lily bit her lip. “This is weirding you out, huh?”
“Only a little.” PJ side-eyed the chick sitting next to her. “I mean, dang girl, I burned through a battery with those books, and I’m not talking about the one in my Kindle.”
Pretty Jane (The Browning Series Book 3) Page 38