Wild, Crazy Hearts

by Melissa Foster

  “Fuck that,” he ground out, and spun around—only to find her door opening and Brindle running toward him. Their mouths crashed together as he lifted her off her feet.

  “Don’t go,” she pleaded. “I just want you to hold me tonight. We don’t have to do anything.”

  “That sounds a lot like ‘Come on, cowboy, we won’t put it all the way in,’ which got me into trouble once before.” That was the line she’d challenged him with the first time they’d had sex, which had come after several hours of rolling around naked on blankets in the back of his truck, doing everything to each other except the final act. The fire of desire in her eyes, and that wicked challenge, had done him in, the same way hearing her say she liked being his had done tonight.

  “Trouble is my middle name.” She laced her fingers with his, leading him into her apartment. “Did I mention we’re going to sleep naked?”

  Chapter Eleven

  BRINDLE AWOKE TUESDAY morning to the feel of Trace’s warm, loving lips and big, eager hands traveling down her body. He caressed and cherished, making masculine, appreciative noises that caused her insides to simmer with desire. Ever since their date, which had ended with much more than sleep, their lovemaking had changed. They couldn’t help but be wild with each other, but now Trace did things like framing her baby bump between his hands and talking to their baby between kisses, as he was now.

  “Close your eyes, little one. Daddy needs to make Mama squirm.” He tipped his handsome face up with a coy look in his eyes. “But Mama’s going to keep her eyes wide open.”

  He kissed his way south, his dark eyes locked on her as he trailed kisses along her inner thigh, slowing only long enough to drag his tongue tauntingly close to the place she needed it most. Every touch of his lips caused a shiver of anticipation. By the time he finally lowered his mouth between her legs, bringing his hands in to play, she was a trembling, needy mess.

  “Trace,” she pleaded, reaching for him. But he was intent on driving her crazy, and continued his relentless pursuit of her pleasure.

  She squirmed and begged, her heels digging into the sheets. He pushed his fingers inside her, expertly sending her soaring. He loved her through the very last pulse of her orgasm, and when she collapsed to the mattress, panting for air, he moved over her. The love staring back at her made her feel melty inside.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” he said as their bodies joined together. “Ah, darlin’, there’s no better feeling than loving you with all I have.”

  They made love slow and sweet, kissing so deeply she got lost in the rhythm of his tongue sweeping over hers in time to his hips thrusting and gyrating, taking her up to the clouds again and again. Just when she thought she’d used every ounce of energy she had, his kisses became more intense and possessive, awakening carnal desires she hadn’t known were lying in wait, and their bodies took over.

  She was a fool to have held back for so long. Being with Trace was always exciting, but being openly loved by him? Being able to give that love back without insecurities weighing her down?

  That was magical.

  THAT MAGICAL HIGH pulled her through the school day. Well, that and the fun, sexy texts she and Trace had shared throughout the afternoon. She’d never realized how giving herself over so completely to him could change their lives, but she finally felt like she was really living. They’d spent Saturday night at her place, but Sunday and Monday nights they’d slept at his house. She liked knowing they were there for each other and talking things out. She was more committed and tied down than she ever wanted to be and loving every second of it. How crazy was that? The things she’d feared most were the things that had set her free.

  She climbed from her car and looked up at Grace and Reed’s Victorian home. She was meeting Grace, Morgyn, and their mother for their meeting of the married minds. She felt a strange sense of pride and nervousness, as if being committed and pregnant had thrust her into a new realm of existence. Into a new type of sisterhood. Would she pass muster? Could she learn to be as effective a communicator in her relationship as she was in her professional life?

  She thought about her sisters, how easily Morgyn had fallen into her relationship with Graham and how seamlessly Grace and Reed had come together. They were definitely made for each other. As far as Brindle knew, they never even fought, and her parents practically finished each other’s sentences. She’d seen them argue, but it was never mean-spirited, and it always ended with a kind word or a kiss.

  When Brindle’s fights with Trace didn’t end with them storming off, there was always hot makeup sex. Was that just as good?

  Better, she mused as she climbed the porch steps.

  Brindle had been floored when she’d learned that Grace and Reed had carried on a secret love affair when they were younger. It seemed Brindle and Sable weren’t the only sneaky sisters in the family. Knowing Grace’s secret had brought her a notch toward normal in Brindle’s mind. Grace was an overachiever, and Brindle had thought she’d always done the right thing. But her confession had also left Brindle wondering what she might find out about Amber and Pepper. Neither of them enjoyed parties, and Brindle had few memories of them dating when they were teenagers. Pepper was always busy with one science project or another, and Amber had always preferred books to boys. Brindle thought they were missing out when they’d stay home from creek parties or refused to sneak out to watch the guys ride horses before dawn. She hoped there were some secrets in their lives, because naughtiness was so fun, but she had a feeling it might take the right men to pry them out of their conservative shells.

  She knocked once and then she pushed the door open. “Hello? Is this the place where girls come to learn how to communicate with men?”

  “Honey, you’ve known how to communicate with men since you crawled into Poppi’s lap when you were just a tiny thing,” Lindsay’s grandmother, Nina, whom everyone called Nana, said as she came through the living room. Nana and Poppi lived down the street from Reed and Grace. “You fluttered those long dark lashes, gazed at him with your big blue eyes, and wrapped that man around your little finger.”

  Brindle laughed and hugged the woman who had always treated her like a granddaughter. “Hi, Nana. I didn’t know you were coming.”

  Nana looked stylish in a pair of dark slacks and a smart gray top. Her hair was short and layered, mostly white with hints of blond, giving her the appearance of a sweet grandmother. But the things that came out of Nana’s mouth often rivaled Sable’s unfiltered statements.

  “Well, then, that makes two of us.” Nana put her arm around Brindle, guiding her toward the kitchen. She lowered her voice and said, “Between you and me, when I heard Grace and Sophie talking about this meeting of the married minds, I thought I might be able to learn something.” Sophie Roberts-Bad was Lindsay’s older sister and Grace’s best friend. She and her husband, Brett, had a little girl and they split their time between New York City and Meadowside.

  “But, Nana, you’ve been married forever.”

  “Exactly.” Her eyes glimmered with mischief. “You think I’d pass up a chance to hear all your sexy communication secrets?” She used air quotes around communication. “Honey, there might be snow on the roof, but there’s fire down below.”

  “I want to be you when I grow up,” Brindle said as they entered the kitchen.

  Grace and Morgyn were sitting at the table, which was covered with plates of different types of cookies. Their mother stood at the counter transferring more cookies from a cooling rack to a plate.

  “We all want to be Nana when we grow up,” her mother said. “Hello, sweetheart. How are you?”

  “It should be illegal to feel as good as I do.” Brindle snagged a cookie and said, “But your grandbaby is hungry all the time.”

  “Well, we can’t have that,” her mother said with a wink.

  “Hey, Brin.” Morgyn patted the seat beside her. “Sit with us.”

  Brindle sat down and said, “What’s with all the cookies?”
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  “You’ll see. How are things at work?” Grace asked.

  “Weirdly good,” Brindle said. “Now that everyone knows the baby is Trace’s, the staff is rallying around me, showering me with congratulatory hugs and well wishes. My students are so happy, you’d think they were graded on their enthusiasm.”

  “I’m glad. I bet you never thought about how your relationship with Trace affected everyone around you,” Grace pointed out.

  “Why would it affect my students?”

  “Because kids hear and see everything,” their mother said.

  “I know. I’m careful about how I act around them.”

  “That’s true,” Grace said. “I’ve seen you with them, and you’re a different person around your students than you are with adults. You talk to them on a level they can relate to. You guide them and show them that an adult can be professional and still be a normal person outside of work. But they have eyes and ears outside the classroom, Brin.”

  “I don’t understand.” Brindle looked at her mother. “I told you I haven’t been with any other guys. I mean, I’ve flirted and had drinks with guys, but never…I’ve always been careful not to flirt with other guys around my students. Have I been a bad influence on them?”

  “No, honey.” Her mother put her hand on Brindle’s and said, “But everyone in this town knows how much you and Trace love each other. They hear gossip, and they know when you’re hurting. Your students pull for you, and pulling for you means rooting for you and Trace as a couple. They’re invested, as is most everyone else around here.”

  Brindle looked at Morgyn, who was nodding in confirmation. “You think they were upset because they thought I was pregnant by someone else and that meant the end of the couple they were pulling for? That makes us sound like a soap opera.”

  “We were all pulling for you and Trace. If I weren’t your sister, I’d have given you snide looks, too,” Morgyn admitted.

  “Great,” Brindle said sarcastically.

  Morgyn blew her a kiss.

  “It’s not because you’re the town soap opera,” Nana clarified. “Although there is the whole hashtag Team Trindle thing on Instagram.”

  Brindle’s eyes widened. “What is that?” She picked up her phone and searched #TeamTrindle on Instagram. “Oh my God. There are more than three thousand posts about us?”

  “You were gone a long time.” Nana took Brindle’s phone and turned it upside down on the table. “It started as a Facebook poll when you went to Paris. A will-they, won’t-they thing. Then it moved to Pinterest on the Trindle boards, and now it’s all over Insta. There are pictures of you two lovebirds all over the place. You’ve really got to get your nose out of Trace’s sheets long enough to explore social media—but not this second.”

  “Holy cow,” Brindle said under her breath. “Okay, seriously? Team Trindle? Nobody thought to tell me? I’m on social media. Why have I never noticed it?”

  Grace said, “You have to know the hashtags to look for them.”

  “Graham said your Instagram followers grew by forty-five percent while you were overseas. Didn’t you notice?” Morgyn asked.

  “No, I didn’t notice. I was a little busy figuring out my life.” Brindle wondered if Trace knew about #TeamTrindle. She made a mental note to ask about it.

  Nana sat up a little straighter and said, “Can we circle back to your students, please? You’re not the Oak Falls soap opera, honey, but your love for Trace, and his love for you, gave everyone hope that true love really can last through anything.”

  “But we fought all the time,” Brindle said. “I had to go to Paris to realize my love for him was everything I wanted and more. How could anyone else possibly know it was real?”

  Their mother chuckled softly and said, “Because that’s what true love is, sweetheart.”

  “Not according to Grace and Reed or Morgyn and Graham. Or you and Dad, for that matter. Nobody fights like us.”

  “No two loves are alike,” Nana said. “Poppi and I fought like cats and dogs when we were your age, but it was because we loved each other so much, we were afraid of losing one another. But look at us now. We’ve trained each other to communicate more effectively.” She smirked and said, “I’ve trained him to agree with me.”

  “Well, let’s get down to business, because if the whole town is rooting for us, they can get in line behind me. I want nothing more than to be able to talk to my man without either of us storming out, and I’m not easy, so hopefully you can fix me right up.” Brindle bit into her cookie. “Mm. This is amazing. What is it, molasses?”

  “It’s my grandmother’s recipe,” Nana said as she set the plate of cookies in the middle of the table. “Do you want some hot chocolate before we get started?”

  “Actually, I’d love some milk,” Brindle said, surprising herself.

  Her mother looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “Milk?”

  “You hate milk,” Grace reminded her. “You always said if we were meant to drink it, we’d be born as cows, which makes no sense since cows don’t drink milk.”

  “I know, but I really—” Brindle gasped as realization dawned on her. Her hand fell to her belly and she said, “Oh my gosh! I think I’m having a craving!”

  “Here we go!” Nana waggled her brows and got up to pour Brindle a cup of milk. “First it’s cravings, and then it’s an amped-up sex drive.”

  “This is crazy! I have to tell Trace!” Brindle grabbed her phone, suddenly realizing what Nana had said. “Wait. Amped-up sex drive?”

  “They already hump like rabbits,” Morgyn pointed out, and bit into a cookie.

  “Morgyn.” Their mother shook her head. “They’re having a baby. I think you can say make love rather than hump.”

  Morgyn and Brindle looked at each other and burst into laughter.

  Nana gave Brindle a cup of milk and sat down, while Brindle thumbed out a text. I have my first craving! For milk! And apparently my sex drive is going to get even bigger. Think you can handle that? She added a kissing emoji and hearts and sent it to him.

  “Okay, let’s do this. How can I communicate more effectively with my man?” Brindle’s phone vibrated with a text from Trace. She read it, grinning like a fool—Does this mean I should come to the school on your lunch break to make sure you’re well taken care of? I’m game if you are!

  Morgyn snagged Brindle’s phone and read Trace’s text. “Seems to me you know how to communicate quite effectively with him.”

  “Give me that.” Brindle took her phone.

  Their mother put her hands flat on the table and said, “Okay, girls. We’re here to help Brindle break some old habits. Let’s focus on doing that.” She waved to the cookies in the middle of the table. “I know how we tend to get off track when we’re together, so I thought using cookies might help us focus.”

  “Or fatten us up,” Grace said as she grabbed a cookie.

  “Some pounds are worth it,” Nana interjected.

  Brindle put her hand on her belly and said, “Speaking of pounds, I’m using rubber bands to keep my jeans closed. Who wants to go maternity clothes shopping with me?”

  “Me!” Morgyn and Grace said.

  “You girls have fun with that,” their mother said. “I’ve got Thanksgiving plans to make.”

  They made a date to go shopping the following weekend, and then Brindle said, “I can’t believe Thanksgiving is only two weeks away. I need to talk to Trace and see where he wants to spend it. I don’t really want to celebrate separately.”

  “You might consider dinner at one house and dessert at the other,” her mother suggested. “Maybe next year we can do Thanksgiving as one big family with the Jerichos. It’s something to think about.”

  “I was going to suggest we do that with Graham’s family next year,” Morgyn said.

  “That sounds fun,” Brindle agreed. “We can always do another holiday with Trace’s family. We’ll figure it out. There’s so much to think about before the baby comes.”


  “Your life is changing so fast,” her mother said. “Don’t let the little things overwhelm you. Just take it as it comes, one thing at a time.”

  “No more Tuesday nights at JJ’s,” Grace said.

  Brindle cringed. “What drugs are you on? Tuesdays are our dance nights. We’re going tonight. Why would we give that up?”

  “You may not want to leave your baby to go dancing,” Grace said. “At least for a while.”

  “Oh, I thought you meant now.” Brindle’s mind sprinted into a future filled with cuddling their baby and snuggling as they watched television, and her heart warmed. But there was a longing just beneath all those warm feelings. She loved dancing with Trace, and she didn’t want to give that up altogether.

  “You know I’ll babysit anytime,” their mother said.

  “Thanks, Mom, but Grace is right. I don’t think I’ll want to leave our baby to go dancing, at least not while it’s little. We’ll just have to get creative and have our own three-person dance party at home. Oh my gosh, can you imagine Trace dancing with our little baby boy or girl on his shoulder?” She sighed dreamily, imagining Trace holding their baby, and her insides turned to mush. “Oh, you guys, I haven’t thought of that before. I have a feeling I’m going to be swooning over him even more once our baby is born.”

  “Seeing your man with your baby will do all sorts of wonderful things to you, honey,” her mother said.

  “We need to fix our fights for good,” Brindle said, though she was really telling it to herself.

  “You will, but remember, honey, no relationship is perfect,” her mother reminded her. “You and Trace are going to have ups and downs. It’s just the way life is. Let’s talk about communication, because that’s where it all starts.” She looked at Brindle and said, “When you were little, if I wanted to hold your attention, I had to relate things to food or fun.”