by Quinn, Taryn
He didn’t seem to notice. I wasn’t sure he was even still conscious. Could someone faint while standing up?
Well, if he wasn’t going to say anything, neither was I. I was good at denial too.
“So, how was your day?”
He dragged a hand down his face. “I’m awake, right?”
“Far as I can tell. Though you do look like an extra from The Walking Dead at the moment.” I rose to greet him the right way, because again, he was super hot.
Besides, he’d already knocked me up. The barn door was wide open, so I might as well explore the pregnancy benefits.
I’d no sooner laid a hand on him that he grabbed my cheeks and searched my eyes as if I was holding back state secrets. “You’re not…she was kidding…you can’t be…that soon?”
I cleared my throat. “So, what about those Yankees?”
“Outta season, Mace. You’re serious right now?”
“As serious as the word pregnant on that little white stick.” I had to admit to a little sick glee at the way his jaw sagged. I patted his chest. “Congratulations, Daddy.”
I was prepared for him to reach for the nearest chair. Maybe even to flee from the room entirely while he processed the reality of having the fastest swimmers on the block.
So, maybe not the fastest on this block. This was Crescent Cove, after all. All sperm were in competition for the Olympics. But still, he’d done just fine.
However, I was not prepared for him to sweep me up into his arms and kiss me like he hadn’t seen me in five years or had just come back from the war or—well, something way huger than just a day at work.
“I fucking love you.” He tugged on my lower lip with his teeth. “You’re incredible.”
“I love you too. So are you, obviously. You clearly set some land and speed records, dude.” Laughing, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back. Eagerly. Hungrily. I may have rubbed against him like a needy kitten.
Maybe if we were really quiet, Dani would be none the wiser.
Welcome to enjoying sex while parenting 101, Macy. Hope you enjoy your eighteen-year-plus stay.
But Gideon wasn’t finished with his praise. “Your ovaries are like, commercial grade.”
I had to pause mid-kiss for that one. “Thanks? I grew them myself.”
He started to laugh as he tipped his forehead against mine. “Oh my God. It was supposed to take like a year so you didn’t flip out.”
“Surprise.”
“Yeah, the best surprise. The best one I’ve ever gotten after Dani. And now I have two.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he gazed at me, still holding me in his arms as if I was weightless. Not struggling at all. Just staring at me as if I’d created atoms with the power of my mind.
And I kind of had—although other parts of me had been involved, while my mind had definitely been absent—but he’d helped. This amazing thing was one we’d built together.
Kind of like The Haunt. And the renovations on this house. And even the café. He’d been there with me in one form or another since nearly the beginning of my journey here in Crescent Cove. All along the way, we’d been adding bricks and markers. Solidifying our foundation. Creating something real that would continue on beyond us.
A life. A legacy. A family.
“Now you’ve done it.” I waved my hand at my face and started doing times tables backward in my head. I had been doing so well. I hadn’t shed one tear so far today.
Other than when the vet had told me Trick was truly a trick, but c’mon, how many pregnancies could one woman hear about in a day and not go a little crazy?
“What? Oh, shit, did I hurt you? It’s new. Did I do something? Here, let me set you down.”
“I’m fine.” I had to laugh through my misty moment as he carefully set me in the nearest armchair. “We’re fine.”
He crouched in front of me and gripped my hands, bringing them to his mouth. I wasn’t one to get fanciful, but I’d never seen a more reverent look on someone’s face in all my life.
“We’re is such a good word.”
Smiling, I brushed the hair off his forehead and decided I wouldn’t kill him today. Maybe not even this week. Because right now? Being pregnant felt pretty damn good. “The best word.”
WANT A LITTLE EXTRA HEA? We have a little fast forward Slice-of-life scene that we wrote. ENJOY!
Halloween with the Gideons
* * *
Operation Dirty Dad
Macy & Gideon
“I need five minutes,” I snarled at my new chef—this would be chef number three, thank you.
His jaw flexed and I was fairly sure he wanted to shove my head in the sink, but he sauntered out the back door and slammed the door behind him. Decker Morris was a damn good chef, but he was still on probation. I never thought I’d miss Mason, but hiring him had only been a stopgap measure while his own place, the Mason Jar, was being remodeled for his grand opening.
Since then, I’d been in hell. Decker was promising, but he would need to learn who was the alpha bitch, and it was definitely not him. But his talent allowed for some asshole ingredients. And I wasn’t one to curb that. We just had to figure out how to live together.
I already lived with one grumpy pants and we’d taken a few years to even out. Decker had only been here for two weeks.
Patience.
I really sucked at that, but I was learning. However, today wasn’t a good day for it. It had been an exceedingly long day. Hell, a long month.
Get married, they’d said.
Have kids, they’d said.
It’ll be fun, they’d said.
Be an entrepreneur, no one had said—well, okay, it was supposed to be the great American dream. And don’t get me wrong, I loved owning two of the most successful businesses in Crescent Cove. The problem?
I have many balls in the air. And I’m pretty sure some of those balls have pointy knives spinning for my face.
I was butchering all the metaphors, but seriously, life’s crazy. What makes it crazier?
When I can’t get near my very growly and very adept husband to find a little stress relief.
So, the only plan I could come up with is an honest to God date night.
I procured a babysitter for our demon hellspawn child. Michael was two, and literally, a demon. Our preteen daughter ain’t much better. If she makes it to thirteen, I’ll end up with a full head of gray hair. Gideon may be bald.
Okay, he won’t be bald. My husband is going to be a silver fox and I’m here for it.
I’d managed to convince Sage Hamilton to let me try out a suite at the new add-on to The Hummingbird’s Nest. She’d been working on it for quite awhile and wanted it perfect before she opened the doors to the public. I totally understood her perfectionist side, but I was desperate.
D-E-S-P-E-R-A-T-E.
Our naked time—I’d even settle for half naked—has been interrupted no less than eight times in the last four weeks.
The Terrible Twos were to blame for half of them. Michael has decided our king-sized bed was way more sleep-worthy than his own custom-made bed. Hello, his father was a master carpenter. His imitation red truck bed was beyond amazing. I was practically ready to sleep in it, for God’s sake.
Anyway, the point was we’d been doing so well with not letting him sleep with us. I’d made it through the first eighteen months of his life. Okay, sure, we had his crib in our room for a bit there in the beginning, but that was the new norm for doing the baby thing.
But actually physically sharing space with us for more than a nap?
Nope.
We had held strong.
Until now. Did I mention hellspawn?
But that meant middle of the night nookie sessions have been a no-go. The kid has even interrupted us in the damn bathroom. The child was a level-ten clinger right now. Also, sleeping with a two-year-old’s foot in your face was not cool or restful. Before Gideon, I’d been a complete insomniac. Who knew that a hulking male presence
in my bed—and a plethora of orgasms—was just what I’d needed to cure me?
Well, Gideon had known, but we don’t speak of such things.
Between lack of sleep, lack of me time, and lack of us time—let’s just say things are getting dire in our household.
And while Valentine’s Day was coming at us like a freight train, there was no way I could escape the café or the restaurant for that big budget day. So, here I was, planning to kidnap my husband for O-Day.
A new holiday.
Our holiday of orgasms.
I lifted my phone to my ear and did something I rarely do—I used it to make a phone call.
“The Hummingbird’s Nest, this is Sage.”
“Hey, it’s Macy. Is the room ready?”
“No ‘hi, how’s your day’ first?” Sage chirped at me.
“Nope. I’m sneaking into my damn kitchen to make this call.”
Sage’s voice lowered. “Why are we sneaking around? This is for Gideon, right?”
“Of course it’s for Gideon. Jeez.”
“You never know. If you knew all the things I saw at the B&B… Though I’m sure the Sherman gets more action of the sly variety. Most cheaters don’t want to drop my kind of money.”
“You’re telling me.” That didn’t come out right. Whatever. “It’s definitely for my husband, so you can rest your overactive brain. I don’t want anyone to find me for one night and one morning.”
Please God, one full night.
“We have children—well, you have two. I have one who is trying to put me in an early grave. And we’re trying to get pregnant again. You’d think with the level of water I’ve been ingesting, I should have been pregnant twelve times over at this point.”
“You know the water doesn’t actually have magical properties, right?” I was pretty sure. Though I never missed a birth control pill. Like same time every day. I had an alarm. I didn’t need to test fate in this town.
“Well, it sure as heck worked for me once.”
“I thought you got knocked up in Vegas.”
“There’s no proof that it happened there.”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, I have like three minutes before my chef comes in here to rage about me fucking up the timing on something.”
“Timing is important, Macy. Restaurants are very precarious.”
So was my temper. “All I want to know is if everything is set up for us. Simple.”
“Yes. The tower room has been turned into a fantasy-land for prime sexy times.”
I winced. I didn’t really want to think about Sage Hamilton fluffing pillows with my intimate schedule in mind. “Okay, great. And the menu is set?”
“Yes. Everything you requested has been prepared.”
“Perfect. I really appreciate this, Sage.” It galled me to use someone else to get this done, but it wasn’t going to happen any other way.
“I’m sorry. The line filled with static. Can you say that again?”
“Nope. See you later.” I hung up.
Decker knocked on the back door. “Are you done?”
So done.
I went and opened the door. “Thanks. If you need anything tonight, figure it out. I’m leaving you completely in control.”
Decker’s eyebrow spiked. “Completely?”
I tipped my head. “Don’t make me regret it.”
He held up his hands. “All good.” He tucked his fists under his arms. “So, that means the menu and everything?”
I forced myself not to wince in reaction. Instead I let it literally roll off my shoulders. I don’t have to control everything. The world will not catch fire if I take a night off. “Everything. If it works out, probation is over.”
I hadn’t intended for that to come out of my mouth, but the relief was immediate. Ever since I’d taken on this place, I’d shouldered every single responsibility. From menu to receipts—I’d kept it all gripped in my proverbial fist.
Decker’s hands fell to his sides. “Really?”
I pressed my lips together against the instinctive no that wanted to come flying out of my mouth. I nodded.
He squinted at me.
“Yes. I’m not kidding. You’ve proven that you’re an adept chef.” Food wasn’t my passion. The look of the restaurant and the atmosphere was all I really cared about. But if I wanted this place to be more than just a novelty, I needed a powerful menu. “I won’t hold you back anymore, Deck.” Before he could open his mouth, I rushed on. “But you have a budget.” His jaw flexed. “It’ll be a generous one, and if you bring in more people then it will increase. Deal?”
“Fair.”
“Excellent.”
“Can I start right away?”
I folded my arms. “Dinner rush starts in three hours.”
“I’ve got a guy in Turnbull who can get me what I need.”
“If you can keep to the budget, do what you want.”
He rubbed his hands together. “Fuckin’ A.”
I shook my head. “Remember I am persona non grata tonight.” I headed for the back door. If I went back to the café, someone would find me. Rylee had promised me she could deal with everything tonight.
“Got it. Enjoy your bang,” he called after me.
I let the door slam. It wasn’t worth the breath to lie. I so was getting laid.
Now I just had to get ready to rock my husband’s world.
* * *
“Boss, the lumber delivery got delayed in Tug Hill.” Lucky Roberts came out of the back room, his shirt covered in sawdust.
“Fuck.” I dropped my chin to my chest.
Why I’d decided to use a guy in the snow capital of the world, I had no idea. Was the cost worth it? Then I remembered the aces numbers TH Lumber had given me, and I resisted the urge to growl at Lucky. Doing renovations in the winter in the northeast was always a gamble. And in a town with a lake like Crescent Lake close by?
Yeah, snow was just a thing we had to deal with. Period. Didn’t mean it fucked with my schedule any less.
I made a note on my clipboard and flipped to the Browns’ finished basement project. I’d have to juggle that one or call in one of my guys to relieve me for a few hours.
I’d finally broken down and rented a small storefront at the end of Main Street for Gideon Gets It Done. My business had blown up in the past year, and working out of my house didn’t work with two kids and a wife. Especially when my wife was just as much of a workaholic as I was.
I shifted a few things in my head for the rest of the week. “Just tell Brent to get it to us when he can. I’ll call the client.”
The bell over the door jangled, but I was too engrossed in untangling my schedule.
When Lucky didn’t answer, I looked up. “Lucky?” I snapped my fingers in front of his face. It had gone slack. “Did you hear me?”
“Not at all.”
I turned to see what the problem was. Lucky’s attention span rivaled a squirrel’s most days. Usually because a pair of tits was on display. Winter usually curbed that problem, dammit.
My clipboard fell out of my hand.
Endless legs encased in jet black denim ending in ice-pick heeled boots were the first thing I noticed. A long black duster fluttered around her as a cold wind blew in after her. The coat was open, showing off a high-necked black shirt with extreme cutouts at her golden shoulders. Some sort of silver earrings glinted in the waning winter light filtering in behind her, the sharp ends teasing her jawline. Her short inky hair had grown out a bit and was an explosion of angular curls around her face.
She stalked through the vestibule in that long-legged stride she had, but there was a bit more of a roll in her hips than usual. On purpose. Her eyes were darkly lined and resembled a cat. And I was the prey.
My dick went hard as rebar.
Jesus.
“Holy shit.”
I punched Lucky in the shoulder. “Stop staring at my wife, Roberts.”
Lucky straightened up. “Right. Sorry, boss. I don�
�t think I’ve ever seen her looking like that.”
I had. It was a rarity. The last time she’d dressed like this, she’d killed me. I didn’t much care what she wore most days. Her usual wardrobe of rude T-shirts and ancient jeans or yoga pants were just fine by me.
But fuck me. I was a damn lucky man.
She flicked her gaze toward Lucky. “Scram.”
“Right.” Lucky shook his crazy mane of hair back and puffed up his chest. “Lookin’—”
“Finish that sentence, and I’ll put diesel oil in your coffee next time I see you.”
Lucky nodded. “Got it.” He saluted me. “See ya tomorrow, boss.”
“Maybe.”
Macy gave me a slow smile as she got closer. “Correct answer.”
“Did we have plans?” I waited for the door to bang behind Lucky and curled my hand around the back of her waist. The sharp scent of cinnamon and cloves hit me in the chest like a hammer.
She lowered her eyes to my mouth and lifted a finger to my lower lip. “Nope.”
“Do I have plans now?”
Her smile went sly. “Yep.”
I lowered my mouth to hers, then stopped. “Don’t we—”
“Handled.” Her nail bit into my lip. “Babysitter is at the house, gymnastics was cancelled, and I bribed Dani with five extra hours of screen time not to call us or text us tonight.”
“Fuck, I love you.” I dragged her against me and slanted my lips across hers. She tasted of chocolate and coffee with a bit of mint.
She wrapped her arm around my neck and slipped her knee between my legs to brush her thigh along my balls with a low moan. “I’m going to destroy you tonight,” she said against my mouth.
“Too late. Already done.” I palmed her firm ass. “Goddamn, you look incredible.”
“I have plans for you, sir.”
I dragged my nose along her jaw to her neck. “Is that so?”
Her other hand cupped the front of my jeans. “Especially lengthy plans for this.”
I groaned and nipped the spot just behind her ear. The little silver knives of her earrings made me grin against her skin. My girl’s version of fashion was as entertaining as ever. “It’s a bit cold for the truck. Back room?”