Wrapped in Love

by Lexi Ryan

  “They have the room until eleven, but we should be mostly done by the time they clear out. I’ll be home by midnight.”

  “I can sneak away from the party early and come help you clean up if you want.”

  She shakes her head. “No. I’m pretty sure I’d end up locking us in my office so I could have my way with you.”

  “So that’s a yes?”

  Heat flares in her eyes. “I had no idea you had such a wild streak, Mr. Jackson.”

  I rub my thumb over her bottom lip. “I don’t. Only a weakness for you.”

  She touches my shoulder. There’s a small red mark on the spot where she bit me to quiet her moans. “Sorry.”

  I grin. “Worth it.”

  Brayden

  Ethan only had one request for his bachelor party, and it was simple: No strip clubs.

  Since strip clubs make me want to bathe in rubbing alcohol—no offense to the lovely ladies working in them—I was more than happy to oblige. My brothers and I took the groom-to-be to the family cabin, where we played paintball in the snow; then, after we all showered and changed, we went to a restaurant in Grand Rapids known for its bourbon selection.

  We finished dinner an hour ago and are lingering in our private room in the back of the restaurant. Everyone’s having fun, and they’re nice and loose from the bourbon samples—everyone but me, that is, since I’m taking it easy on the booze tonight. We have a driver taking us back to Jackson Harbor, but the last thing I want is to be too drunk to seduce my beautiful roommate.

  Of course, I’ve been thinking about her since she left for work, and all of my brothers have noticed how distracted I am. Despite my efforts to be fully present for them, my mind is at least eighty percent in the pantry, calling up the feel of her breathy moans against my ear.

  “Brayden?”

  I spin around at the sound of that familiar voice and see Sara, her eyes bright, her hand pressed against her chest.

  “It really is you. What are the chances?” She turns her head to take in each of my brothers at the table one at a time. “All of the Jackson boys are here.”

  I feel the irritation rolling off my brothers, but they all stay silent, letting me decide how this will go. “Bachelor party,” I say, hoisting my barely touched bourbon.

  She pales and stiffens. “Congratulations,” she says to . . . me. She thinks I mean my bachelor party. She must be thinking of the way Molly slung her arm around my waist at the tasting room—a deceit I didn’t like but didn’t correct.

  “Ethan’s,” I say gently.

  “Oh!” I’d be a fool to miss the way her posture loosens. She shifts her attention to Ethan, and her face goes soft. “I heard about Elena. I’m so sorry. She was a good woman.”

  “Thank you,” Ethan says. Once, he would have said more. Once, he would have shared his feelings with Sara as easily as he would with one of us, because once, Sara was as much a part of our family as Ava and Nic are today. But tonight, she gets two words and no more. I’m not the only one she hurt when she disappeared.

  “I’ll get out of your hair.” Sara shifts awkwardly, clearly not wanting to leave us yet, then meets my eyes. “I hope we can get that meal together. I’ve been waiting for your call.” With a tiny wave, she turns around and heads back to the restaurant’s main dining room.

  Ethan gives me a long, hard look, and I just shake my head, letting him know I don’t want to talk about it. Then I’m saved by the buzz of his phone. He pulls it from his pocket and laughs at whatever he sees. “Lilly and Nic made a giant pillow fort—pardon me, castle—in the basement, and Lilly begged to sleep in it.” He turns his phone to show us Lilly, her mouth hanging open in sleep. She’s surrounded by a toppled pillow fort and has a tiara on her little head. “She didn’t want to take off her crown because she’s a princess tonight.”

  “Excuse me.” Jake scoffs. “My niece is a princess every night, brother.”

  Ethan chuckles. “Of course she is. My mistake.”

  “Nic’s home? Isn’t the bachelorette party tonight?” Carter asks, his eyes a little glazed from the booze.

  “Not until Thursday,” Ethan says. “That’s the only day the girls’ schedules aligned.”

  Carter smirks. “I wonder what they’re doing.”

  Ethan squeezes the back of his neck, as if just thinking about it stresses him out. “Veronica’s planning it,” Ethan says, referring to his fiancée’s twin sister, “so Nic is preparing for the worst.”

  “The worst being mostly naked, oiled-up men rubbing on your fiancée and her friends?” Carter asks.

  Levi laughs. “You volunteering to do the honors, Carter? I hear women love the firefighter fantasy.”

  “Screw you,” Carter says, but there’s no venom in his tone.

  Ethan shrugs. “I don’t know what the plans are, but I’m not worried about it. I just want her to have fun.”

  “Ellie said Veronica has been very tight-lipped about it,” Levi says.

  “Poor Nic,” Ethan mutters.

  “Speaking of Ellie,” Jake says, swishing his bourbon in the bottom of his glass. “That all worked out? You two are good?”

  Levi drags a hand through his hair and nods. “We’re great. The last month . . .” He takes a sip of his drink, then studies the glass as if looking for the words. “It was hard, waiting for her to be ready, but it was good, you know? I jumped in too fast when she and Colton split, and then I was there again before Ellie could even remember everything. I think we both needed to know that we could wait and be okay. That this feeling between us isn’t something we have to rush to hold on to. It’s not going anywhere, and neither are we.”

  Ethan grins. “Did my little brother just drop a wisdom bomb on my bachelor party?”

  “Shut the fuck up,” Levi says. “I voted for the strip club.”

  “Of course you did,” Jake mutters.

  “Fuck, I think this means I’m about to be the last single Jackson brother,” Carter says. “Lord help me.”

  Jake and Ethan laugh, but Levi frowns and points a thumb at me. “Are you forgetting about perpetually single Brayden here?” His gaze darts to the doorway where my ex just disappeared, and his eyes go wide. “Fuck, you didn’t get back together with Sara, did you?”

  Ethan coughs on his bourbon.

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “He’s still avoiding her,” Carter says.

  Jake grunts. “Can’t blame him there.”

  “I’m not talking about Sara tonight.” But, fuck, I do need to call her and set up a meeting. Maybe coffee or something. I’ve thought about it some, weighed the pros and cons of letting her say her piece, and then got distracted. Tonight was a rude reminder.

  “So it’s safe to say that wasn’t Sara’s robe on your kitchen floor this morning?” Carter asks.

  Jake jabs an elbow in his side. “Hush. If he wanted us to know what he was doing, he wouldn’t have been hiding in the pantry.”

  I scowl at my brothers. “You all need to learn to knock.”

  Jake puts his drink down and holds up both hands. “I promise, after what I think I almost walked in on, I’ll be knocking in the future.”

  Levi frowns, and I could laugh at the confusion on his face if I found my situation with Molly remotely amusing. He’s been so busy with the opening of the tasting room and his new Jackson Brews marketing responsibilities—never mind the distraction of getting back together with his girlfriend—that he seems to be the only one who’s oblivious to my unrequited love for my roommate. “Molly?” he asks softly, almost as if he’s afraid I’ll be offended if he’s wrong. “Shit. You and Molly? I thought that was a one-time thing. When did this happen?”

  “It didn’t,” I say. “Don’t listen to these idiots. Molly and I are roommates. That’s it.”

  “Roommates who fuck in the pantry?” Carter asks.

  I shoot him a glare, and he ducks his head and holds one hand up in surrender. He knows better than to say more, though I can tell he�
��s tempted.

  “Your secret is safe with us, brother,” Jake says.

  I fold my arms and lean back in my chair. “Meaning you’ve already told Ava?”

  He shrugs. “There was a woman’s robe and one of your T-shirts in the middle of the kitchen floor and sounds coming from the pantry. Was I supposed to keep that to myself?”

  I just glare at him, and this time it’s Carter who elbows Jake. “I think that’s a yes,” he mutters.

  Jake narrows his eyes. “Do you understand how easily heartbroken my pregnant wife is? I can’t risk hurting her feelings by keeping secrets.”

  “Try,” I mutter. “And don’t make assumptions about what you saw.”

  “What about what we heard?” Carter says to Jake under his breath.

  I glare.

  “I’m empty,” Levi says, pushing out of his chair.

  “I can be,” Carter says. He drains his glass, and Jake follows suit.

  “Need anything?” Levi asks Ethan and me.

  We shake our heads and watch our brothers head to the bar for more bourbon.

  Next to me, Ethan clears his throat. “So, how is the roommate situation going?”

  “The house is plenty big enough,” I say. Not really an answer.

  “You and Molly . . . get along okay?” He grimaces. “Alleged pantry encounter aside?”

  I just stare at him. “Why don’t you ask what you want to ask?”

  “You haven’t told her how you feel. The whole of it.”

  It’s not a question, so I don’t bother to respond.

  Ethan’s quiet for a long time, and I think he’s going to drop the subject completely until he says, “I remember when Nic moved in after we’d, eh, been together.” He smiles, though he certainly didn’t find the situation amusing at the time. Ethan and Nic had met at Jackson Brews and ended up going back to her hotel room. The next day, he found out she was his new nanny. “I had no interest in a relationship, especially with someone Lilly might grow attached to. But I couldn’t stay away from her.”

  “It worked out all right.” Next weekend, three days before Christmas, Nic and Ethan will say their vows in front of the Jackson Harbor lighthouse, and Nic will officially be part of our family. Unofficially, she’s been part of it since the first family dinner she attended. She just clicked into place. Not so different than Molly and Noah.

  Ethan shakes his head. “I’m lucky I didn’t lose her. I thought I needed to protect Lilly and almost screwed everything up in the process.”

  “If Molly ever gave me a chance—and trust me, despite what those assholes made it sound like, that’s a big if—I won’t screw it up. You don’t have to worry about that.”

  “Maybe you won’t. But she’s the one with the kid. She’s the one who has the most to lose. The most to protect.”

  I stare at him. “I would never hurt Noah.”

  “I know that. Hell, she probably knows that too, but parenthood makes us irrational.” He takes a breath, as if weighing whether to say more.

  “Say it.”

  “Whatever you do, you need to talk to Sara before you start something with Molly. You never got to close that door. Don’t muddy your chances with Molly by missing an opportunity for closure.”

  I nod. “I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

  Standing from his chair, he stretches, then smacks me on the shoulder. “Why don’t you come with me and see if we can talk our brothers into cutting out early tonight? My fiancée’s at home, and if we leave now, I can have a drink with her before I sweet-talk her into getting naked.”

  “Careful. You two already act like an old married couple.”

  Ethan shrugs. “Bachelor parties are for celebrating your last night as a free man. I can’t think of a better way to celebrate than with that hot chick I picked up in a bar once.”

  “Fair enough.” I follow him to find our brothers. Truth be told, I’m as anxious to get home as Ethan is.

  Molly

  By the time I park my car in Brayden’s garage, my feet are aching and every muscle in my body is crying.

  Tonight went pretty well, but one of my servers got a stomach bug and had to leave in the middle of her shift, meaning the other servers and I had to run ourselves ragged to pick up the slack.

  But when I open the door and see tealight candles and rose petals leading a path down the hall, all that exhaustion hanging on me floats away like fluffy snow on a winter breeze. Down the hall, music plays softly beyond Brayden’s bedroom door, and every one of my aching muscles quiets as another part of me wakes up.

  I hook my purse and coat on the rack in the hall and follow the candlelit path to the bedroom, my heart hammering.

  Brayden meets me in the doorway and hands me a cold glass of champagne. Our fingers brush as I take it from him. “The bath is hot and ready for you.”

  I smile over the rim of my glass. “Are you suggesting I might stink?”

  His eyes roam over me. “I’m suggesting you might have had a long day and enjoy a soak. I didn’t think you’d appreciate me ripping off your clothes the second you walk in the door.”

  I step closer. “Are you sure about that?”

  His grin is unlike any smile he’s ever given me before—mischievous and a little goofy. I might even say boyish. “I’m trying to be a considerate lover.”

  “That might be overrated,” I murmur, but I do have the film of food service on my skin and know I’ll feel a thousand percent sexier after a bath.

  I saunter into the bedroom and turn to watch him while I drain my champagne. Placing my glass on the dresser, I meet his eyes. I slowly strip out of my dress then peel off my bra and panties. He watches every move and doesn’t so much as blink. “Join me in the bath?”

  His neck bobs as he swallows. “If you want.”

  I head toward the bathroom, swinging my hips and tossing him my most suggestive smile over my shoulder. “What do you think?”

  The bathroom is more of the same—rose petals sprinkled around the tub, candles flickering on every surface—and the oversized, jetted tub is full of steaming, bubbling water that calls to me.

  I pile my hair into a knot on top of my head and climb in. When Brayden walks into the bathroom, he’s gloriously naked and hard. Lust sears through me. I reach out my hand, and he steps into the tub. He sinks into the water and leads me into his lap, wrapping his arms around me.

  The bath is hot, and when Brayden kicks on the jets, it pulls the tension from my muscles. I moan and melt into him, aware of the strength of him behind me, the length of his cock against my ass.

  “How was the bachelor party?” I ask, trying to hide how much I just want to turn in his arms and slide onto him.

  “It went well.” He presses his open mouth to my neck, and I tilt my head to the side, sighing into his kiss. “I think Ethan was happy, so that’s all that matters.”

  “All of your brothers made it?”

  His hands still their roaming across my stomach. “Do you really want to talk about my brothers right now?”

  Chuckling, I turn in his embrace, wrapping my arms around his neck. “You’re always thoughtful enough to ask me about my day.” I straddle him, positioning my knees on either side of his hips. “I was just trying to return the courtesy.”

  He groans and buries his face in my neck, scraping the tender skin with his beard as he nips, sucks, kisses. I rock against him. Harder. Faster.

  He slides his hands down my soapy back and grips my hips, stilling me. “You keep doing that, and I’m going to end up inside you without a condom.”

  My breath catches at the husky baritone of his voice and at the thought of feeling him like that. What would it be like, to be that close to him? To give myself to him without any barrier between us? I circle my hips despite his grip. “Would you mind? I’m on the pill.”

  Cursing under his breath, he pulls back to meet my eyes. “Molly . . .”

  I shift my hips slightly, changing the angle where our bodies tou
ch, and he’s there—positioned against my entrance. I’m so ready. I have been all day long. Ready for him. For this. “Is it okay?”

  His throat bobs as he swallows. “Yeah.” The word is breathless—more plea than permission—and I sink down onto him. My breath leaves me in a rush, because he feels amazing. Hard and strong, and I’m so full.

  I tuck my face into the crook of his neck, hiding my face as emotion I don’t understand surges through me. This is Brayden, and he’s kind and tender and amazing. He’s the kind of guy who thinks to buy rose petals and to light candles. To pour champagne. The kind of guy who wants to get me off more than himself.

  His hands are all over me, sliding up and down my back and gripping my hips as he whispers in my ear. So good. God, you’re beautiful. I’ve thought about you all day.

  I keep my face buried in his neck, trying to hide, because I feel too exposed. Too vulnerable.

  But when I’m close from his filling me so completely and pressing so impossibly deep, he slides his hands into my hair and draws me back to look into my eyes. “I want to see your face when you come,” he murmurs, and the words are my undoing, making my whole body coil tighter and tighter before I shatter around him. I’m a thousand broken pieces somehow held together by the stroke of his hands on my back and the intensity of his eyes on my face. He’s studying me like I’m a piece of fine art he wants imprinted on his memory.

  I kiss him as I start moving again. I rub my tongue over his and tangle my hands in his hair, and I move faster as he swells inside me. When his orgasm hits, he rocks deeper and deeper until his climax barrels through him and he throws his head back and closes his eyes.

  After, he gets a washcloth and washes every inch of me, smiling a bit as he takes extra care with my breasts and between my legs. When we finally climb out of the tub, my fingers are shriveled like raisins and the air is frigid. He wraps me in a blanket and leads me to the living room, where the lights of the Christmas tree twinkle in the dark room. When he flicks on the gas fireplace, I see he has another blanket spread out in front of the hearth.