by T. K. Leigh
“You must be looking forward to the big day.”
I give her a trite smile. “Of course.” I try to keep my responses as short and sweet as possible.
She studies me with a furrowed brow, then opens her mouth, about to press further when Drew interrupts.
“Okay, munchkins…”
I blow out a breath, grateful he came to my rescue.
“Time for bed.”
The girls groan, just like they do every Sunday. And just like every week, they ask to stay up a little longer with promises to help clean, to which Drew says no. It gives me hope things won’t change.
The instant they get up from their chairs, Drew scoops each under an arm, then brings them around the table so we can all say our goodnights. Today, the hugs last a bit longer, the kisses a little more meaningful.
Just as Drew’s about to carry the two girls upstairs, he leans down toward me. “Stay,” he whispers.
One word, and I’m ravenous with an insatiable hunger. One word, and I’m putty in his hands. One word, and I want to drown in him and never come back up for air.
I subtly nod, struggling to look away as I watch him disappear out of the living area and up the stairs. When I return my gaze to the table, four sets of eyes are on me.
“What?” I push back and busy myself with clearing the plates from the pasta feast we consumed.
“What?” Molly mimics, standing from the table and attempting to help clean, as well, but Noah is up in an instant, ripping the dishes from her. It’s sweet to see how much he dotes on her, especially now that she’s pregnant. He doesn’t like her lifting a finger. I often envied them, wondering if I’d ever have that kind of devotion and affection. Now I do, but I can’t tell anyone about it yet, and it’s killing me. “If you think we’re all oblivious to the sexual tension between you and Drew, think again. You all but have a giant ‘fuck me’ sign on your forehead whenever he looks at you.”
I straighten my spine as I continue cleaning, not wanting to look directly at any of them. “What are you talking about?”
“You and Drew. Three weeks ago, you were running from him.” She approaches, lowering her voice to a whisper so only I can hear. “Now it seems you’re running toward him, jumping on him, letting him ride you until your legs are sore from being spread that long.”
I shake my head, still avoiding her eyes. “That’s absurd. I’m engaged to Wes.”
“Are you?” She crosses her arms, resting them on her baby bump, which is more like a baby watermelon at this point. “I haven’t seen you wearing that gargantuan rock in over a week.”
I still, fidgeting with my ring finger. While I don’t normally wear jewelry to work, I’m usually diligent about putting my ring back on, at least on nights I know I’ll be seeing Wes. Since he left for Dubai, I haven’t worn it. At first, I felt naked whenever I took it off. Now, though, it’s freeing.
“I must have forgotten to put it back on.” A heat washes over me as I rewind to Friday, how I spent the morning with Mrs. Bradford. She never brought up my lack of a ring. Based on what I know, she’s probably storing that nugget of information to use against me later. It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t matter.
“Whatever you say.”
“Molly...” I lift my eyes to hers, giving her a look she knows all too well, the one that allows her to read my inner thoughts. When I grin deviously, understanding washes over her.
“Got it.” With a wink, she inches toward me, her voice turning into a whisper. “Just tell me one thing and I’ll drop it. It’s good news, right?”
I hesitate, glancing around the room to make sure no one’s listening in. Unfortunately, all eyes are glued to me. I zero in on Aunt Gigi to see so much optimism in her gaze as she awaits my response. As much as I want to avoid answering, I also want to give these people hope after the night they had.
“It’s really good news.”
Gigi clasps her hands together and stares up at the ceiling. I see her lips moving, as if she’s praying. After performing the sign of the cross, she heads toward me, clutching my face in her hands.
“I knew it would all work out, my sweet, sweet girl. God had a plan for you two. I noticed it the second you walked into our house when you were barely five years old.”
She brings my head toward her and kisses my forehead, then pulls back, moving her hands to my biceps. The enthusiasm in this woman’s face is unmatched by anything I’ve seen from her in quite a while, probably since Molly announced she was pregnant.
“You’ve brought absolute joy to my heart, my dear. Bless you.”
While I didn’t want to say anything until I spoke to Wes, I haven’t technically admitted to anything. They could take my response many different ways. I have no control over how it’s interpreted…or misinterpreted.
“What’s going on?” Drew’s booming voice fills the space. I tear my eyes to his, unsure how he’ll react to everyone being aware of what’s going on between us. When he sees the uncertainty on my face, he shakes his head, laughing. “She figured it out, didn’t she?”
I shrug, biting my lower lip. “You know how she can be.”
“That I do.” He approaches and slings an arm over my shoulders, pulling me against him.
Gigi smiles wide at the sight of us together, clasping her hands over her heart. Then her eyes darken, her mouth forming a tight line. “Don’t you dare mess it up this time, Andrew.”
“What?” he shoots back, laughing.
“Yeah,” I say in agreement, elbowing him in the stomach. “Don’t mess it up this time.”
He gazes down on me with all the sincerity he possesses. The next words that come out of his mouth make my heart soar higher than it ever has before. “I don’t plan to. Everything I do is for you. Always has been. Always will be.”
If I didn’t have Drew supporting me, I’m pretty sure I’d turn into a puddle on the floor.
“Well, shit,” Molly chokes out.
We whip our eyes to hers as she fans herself, trying to fight off her tears. I should have known this might happen. A few days ago, I walked into her house and found her bawling because of an animal cruelty prevention commercial. It took over an hour to finally get her to stop crying.
“That may be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to anyone.”
Noah shakes his head as he pulls her against him, laughing at his overly emotional fiancée. To anyone else, this entire scenario would seem odd, but we’ve always been an odd group. It’s what makes our bond so strong. We all came from less than optimal beginnings, but we persevered and survived. All our friendships have, too.
I allow the moment to linger for a while before I straighten my expression, becoming serious. “But I don’t want one word of this getting out.” I smile at Drew, who gives me a reassuring nod, telling me he’s in agreement. “Not yet anyway,” I add, addressing everyone once more. “Wes is still in Dubai for a few more days. He deserves to learn the truth face to face, not over the phone. So while Drew and I have finally discussed a future between us, we haven’t…” I trail off, cringing, unsure how to say this.
“Fucked?” Molly suggests.
Gigi shoots her a pointed glare.
“What? I’m just trying to help her out a little.” She returns her eyes to me. “Right? You guys haven’t screwed yet?”
I swallow hard, wondering how we went from telling Charlotte the truth about her parentage to discussing my sex life in just a few hours. “That’s correct.” I lift my eyes back to Drew’s momentarily. “We don’t want to start this until we both have a clean slate. Until I do…”
“And you will on Friday, correct?” Molly presses.
“That’s the plan.” I fidget with my hands, nerves settling in my stomach at the prospect of welcoming Wes home, then breaking his heart.
She immediately shifts her attention to Drew. “I’ll take the girls Friday night. That way, you two can be as loud as you want. Hell, you can ride him so hard you break the bed frame. Trust me. I
t’s easier than you think.”
“Molly…” I lower my head, embarrassed.
“Never a dull moment with you.” Noah laughs. At this point, he’s probably used to her lack of brain-to-mouth filter.
She tilts back her head, meeting his eyes. “And you love that about me.”
“Yes. Yes, I do.” He leans down, treating her to a sweet kiss. I sigh, longing for the day when I’ll finally be able to do that with Drew for everyone to see.
As if he’s thinking the same thing, he pulls me even closer to him. “Soon,” he murmurs, the promise in that one word causing me to sigh again.
“Well, we shouldn’t intrude any longer,” Gigi says, her voice strong. She heads toward Drew and clasps his face in her hands. “I’m happy for you, my darling boy.”
I watch their interaction, my heart full. I adore how close this family is, how close they’ve always been, even through all their difficulties. I’ve never gotten that feeling from Wes. The few family dinners I attended when Wes and I visited Atlanta seemed more like a board meeting than a gathering of loved ones. It’s not Wes’ fault his family is the way they are, but for a girl who grew up with barely any relatives, I’ve always imagined marrying into a large, rambunctious family. As I beam at Drew, I wonder if I’ll finally get my wish.
After we all say our goodbyes and Drew and I are alone, he turns to me. The caring, easy-going man he was moments ago is a distant memory. In its place is another Drew, one who’s wanton, lustful…wild. Butterflies dance in my stomach at the heat in his eyes as they rake over every inch of me. I swallow hard, instinct taking over as I step back. But with each retreat, he advances toward me until I hit the wall, unable to escape. I don’t want to. I never want to walk away from him. I’ve made peace with the past hurt he’s caused me, the past hurt I’ve caused him. We’re exactly where we’re meant to be.
He places his hands on the wall behind me, leaning on them. With each inch he erases between us, my heart rate increases, drumming a thunderous rhythm. There’s so much need, so much want, so much passion. I want to pinch myself, this reminiscent of a dream I’ve had for too long now. It reminds me of the way he looked at me all those years ago at Brody Carmichael’s party.
After what seems like a torturously long time, his lips land on mine. I exhale into him, the sensation of his mouth moving with mine the only thing that seems to make sense these days. He pushes his hard body against mine, his hunger for me unmistakable in the way he holds me, cradles me, devours me. I’ve never felt so coveted, so desired, so craved as I do when I’m with him.
“Stay,” he whispers in almost the same tone he used before. This time, it’s even more sinful and wicked.
“I’m here.”
He pulls back, shaking his head. “No. The night. Don’t go.”
I swallow hard at the intensity in his gaze. “We agreed we’d wait until—”
He erases my protest with a kiss, then tears away. “No. Not that. I just…” He briefly closes his eyes. I see so much pain and vulnerability, a stark juxtaposition to the hunger he wore mere seconds ago. It’s similar to the expression he had the night I found him drunk and brought him into my bedroom. “I need you. I want to fall asleep with you in my arms. That’s all. We won’t do anything. I respect you too much to put you in any position that will make you uncomfortable.”
I search his eyes, opening and closing my mouth. The idea of falling asleep surrounded by Drew’s embrace is incredibly inviting. I couldn’t deny him that night all those years ago. I can’t deny him now, either, even if we are pushing the boundaries too much. After what Drew’s been through the past few weeks, especially tonight, he needs to feel loved. He needs to feel my love.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” he repeats, surprised.
“Yes.” I bring my hand to his face, running my fingers along his stubble. “I’ll spend the night with you.”
His shoulders visibly relax as he leans his forehead against mine. “Thank you.”
Before I utter another word, he grabs my hand, leading me up the stairs and into his bedroom. A bout of nerves rushes over me when I cross the threshold and lay my eyes on his bed, so much promise and fear in that one piece of furniture. My adolescent anxiety comes rushing back, doubt filling me, my body becoming taut.
“Brooklyn?” Drew’s voice is sweet as he senses my unease. “What is it?”
Staring at the floor, I ask the same question I did the night we first kissed. “What if I’m not enough for you?”
It’s stupid, but after a lifetime of being constantly disappointed, I’ve learned if something seems too good to be true, it usually is. I’ve struggled my entire life to live up to everyone’s expectations of me. What if I don’t measure up to the fantasy in Drew’s head?
He grasps my chin, forcing my gaze back to his. “What makes you think you’re not?”
I push out a laugh. “I’ve seen the women you’ve dated, Drew.” I gesture to my body. “I’m not it. I’m, like, a complete one-eighty from your type. I’m not petite, blonde, and shaped like a toothpick. I mean, I’m in good shape, but—”
In an instant, his hand is on my lower back and he tugs me against him. “Did you ever stop to consider there was a reason I dated the women I did?”
Words escape me in response to his powerful tone.
“I thought being with someone who was your polar opposite would help me forget.” His voice is soft as he runs the pad of his thumb along my lower lip.
“But you couldn’t.”
His mouth turns into a small smile. “Never. And for the record…” He brings his lips to my neck, peppering soft kisses along my skin. “You’ve always been more than enough. All those other women… They’ve never been able to hold a candle to you, my beautiful Brooklyn Rose. And in just a few more days, you will be mine. Forever.”
“I like the sound of forever,” I murmur as I lose myself in him once more, a slave to his touch.
“Me, too.”
Chapter Sixteen
Drew
I inhale a deep breath as the light of dawn filters into my bedroom, rousing me from the first night of restful sleep I’ve had in a long time. Everything’s right in the world, despite the obstacles facing me with Alyssa and Charlotte. As I nuzzle my face in Brooklyn’s tousled hair while she sleeps peacefully in my arms, I’m certain we’ll make it through this. How could we not when I have this amazing woman by my side?
“Morning,” Brooklyn murmurs.
“Morning,” I respond in a raspy voice, pulling her into me, my front to her back. There’s no denying how much I want her right now. This waiting is agonizing. How am I going to survive another five days?
“Down boy,” she jokes as I rub against her.
Groaning, I push her onto her back, hovering over her. “I can’t control myself around you.” I bring my lips to hers, kissing her tenderly.
“You won’t have to for much longer.” She runs her fingers up and down my back, her nails digging into my flesh. Her touch jumpstarts my heart, causing an electric current to flow from my head to my toes, no place on my body unaffected. Our kiss becomes more intense, and she wraps her long legs around me, a rhythmic pulsing, the heat of her more addicting than any drug.
“Just a few more days,” I remind myself before pressing my lips back to hers.
“Just a few more days.” Her breathy voice is evidence she’s struggling with control as much as I am. “And I have a feeling they’ll be the longest few days in the history of time.”
I pulse against her, burying my head in her neck. “That may be the understatement of the century.”
When my teeth scrape against her skin, she moans, needy, wanton, husky. Her fingers dig deeper into my back, increasing my craving to taste, to possess, to consume every part of her.
“Have I told you how much I’ve fantasized about this?” My voice is low, seductive, tongue trailing along her jawline. My scruffy chin grazes her flesh, her hold on me tightening. I would have t
hought she’d prefer me without a beard. I’ve seen the men she’s dated, every one of them clean cut, not a single strand of hair out of place. Then again, I dated women who were the polar opposite of Brooklyn. I suppose she did the same.
“Tell me again,” she whimpers as my teeth tug on her earlobe.
“I’ve fantasized about this for years, about making you come harder and faster than you thought possible.”
I move to her lips, my mouth poised on hers, about to kiss her in a way that leaves no question as to how deep my need for her runs, when her alarm rips through the space, breaking the moment. She pushes against me, reaching for her phone.
“Don’t,” I beg.
“I have to. Your girls will be getting up soon. I can’t be here when that happens. Not yet.” She arches a brow and I sigh, reluctantly rolling off her.
She grabs her cell and silences it, about to stand when I wrap an arm around her waist, forcing her back against me.
“Drew,” she scolds, but her tone’s playful.
“Five more minutes,” I plead, my voice bordering on whining.
“And how will you explain to your young, impressionable daughters why a woman they consider their aunt is sharing a bed with their father?”
I trace a finger down the curvature of her body, my touch sending a shiver through her. Still, she doesn’t attempt to shrug me off or get out of bed. “That their auntie Brook cast her spell on me years ago and I’m done fighting it. You devil woman, you.” I clamp my teeth on her neck, squeezing her nipple through the oversized t-shirt I gave her to sleep in, which causes her to yelp.
“Am I going to have to spend the next five days rejecting your advances?” Her words come out as a needy moan.
My hand disappears under her shirt, roaming her stomach, grazing her chest before landing on her throat. Applying minimal pressure, I force her head against me, a tiny whimper escaping her.
“You’re doing a horrible job of that right now.”
“I didn’t say it would be easy. In fact, I have a feeling it’ll be extremely hard.” She grinds against me, my grip on her tightening, raw need making me throb. “And with every day, it will most likely get harder…” Reaching behind her, she sensually runs her fingers through my hair. “And harder.” Her nails dig into my scalp. The mixture of pleasure and pain blinds me to everything but feeling every inch of her.