by Piper Rayne
“Hey, what about me? Is my oven broken too?” Winnie eyed us up but I had to laugh because both Kristen and Taylor were standing behind her shaking their heads no. Carmen was much more diplomatic about her answer.
“No, darling. I think we have some work to do with you yet.”
“That’s not exactly the answer Chase was hoping for.” Winnie pouted with her hands on her hips. I was pretty sure Winnie wasn’t going to find her success in the kitchen.
“We’ll work on that.” Carmen winked and we all laughed.
11
Evan
It was a long day-shift of taking reports for a fender bender pulling out of the grocery store and then dealing with a shoplifter from the makeup store in town. My hand wanted to cramp from typing out the details, but I also wanted to get home to Remi as soon as my shift was over. I was still in the dog house for overreacting, as she put it, in her cooking class, but I liked to think we both got what we wanted out of it. She got lessons and I got the peace of mind that Carmen wasn’t hitting on my wife. Really, it was a win-win for everyone.
I was promised a grown-up night and dinner while she continued to hone her skills. Since this was something Remi herself was determined to master, who was I to say no to her? Impossible. Would never happen in this lifetime because she had me wrapped around her pinkie so tightly we were inseparable.
I typed up my report faster, changed out of my uniform, then grabbed my duffel bag to leave. Tossing it into the car, I drove over the speed limit as safely as possible and pulled into the driveway as Uncle Hunter was pulling out with Ethan strapped into a car seat. We waved and his smiling face told me he was going to have a fun time with Hunter and Taylor while I enjoyed my wife.
“Sweet girl, I’m home.”
“As if I couldn’t tell, my darling husband.”
Oh yeah, I was out of the dog house. I rounded the corner and found the table was set for two with candles and sweet smells coming from the kitchen chased by something with garlic and meat I had trouble identifying.
“What is that incredible smell?” I wrapped my arms around Remi and pulled her back against me as my hands roamed up and down her body, claiming her. I didn’t care if it was proprietary, she was my wife, I loved her, and whatever the heck she was cooking tonight, I would eat with a smile. It smelled good so that was a start. I laid kisses on her neck until she wiggled out of my grasp.
“It’s a roast. Taylor talked me through the recipe and Carmen stopped by to check out our oven.”
“Our oven? What’s wrong with the oven?” I had a nightmare of having to buy a new one, but if that’s what this called for, I would do it in a heartbeat.
“This sucker cooks the wrong temperature.” She gave the thing a light kick. “She said it’s like twenty-five degrees off and that’s been half my problem. All this time I was worried I was stupid or something, but the darn thing is a sour lemon.”
“Seriously? The oven?” This explained so much. I couldn’t wait to tell Chase, although I was sure his problem was a bit more complicated than a broken oven. I mean, what were the odds it could be two bad ovens? Highly unlikely.
“You don’t believe me?” Her bottom lip quivered and hell to no on that. There would be no tears tonight unless they were the overwhelming orgasm kind which I planned for later.
I cupped my hands around her pale cheeks, “Remington Rooney, if you say this oven is bad, I’ll go buy one right now.”
“Not right now. Maybe after dinner?” Her lips quivered and I delivered a quick kiss.
“You tell me what kind you want, and I’ll have them deliver it tomorrow.”
“I just want one that cooks the right temperature. Carmen showed me how to adjust a few recipes until we can get one. There’s no rush.” It’s cute that Remington thinks she can change my mind about this. My girl gets what she needs, no questions asked.
“My love, it’s happening. New oven first thing tomorrow, but for now, tell me about this amazing roast I’m smelling.”
Remi explained how she seasoned the roast with butter, garlic, onion, salt and pepper in the blender. She kind of lost me with icing the roast like a cake, but Carmen helped her adjust the temperature and showed her how to cook it in our jankety oven. She directed me to sit at the table, and I peeked into the kitchen, watching her pull the roast out and use her foot to pop the oven door closed. The dress she wore floated around her thighs, turning me on. I saw her pop something else into the oven, adjust the temperature again, and set the timer like a pro. Her newfound self-confidence was so hot I was popping a boner in my pants, shifting uncomfortably under the table. Watching her determination to master something was like constant foreplay.
“You gonna come in here and eat with me?”
“Coming, Evan.”
Damn right she would be. I was going to make sure she understood I worshipped her. I loved her for all the effort she put in to our relationship, how amazing a mother she was to Ethan, and the kind of mother she would be to our new baby. I loved her for the way she loved me and how much joy she brought into my life. This roast we were about to eat could taste like garbage and it would be the best thing I put into my mouth because she made it with the same kind of love she gave every day.
Remi plated our meal and put it out in front of me. She sat down and I watched her nervously wring her hands as I cut into my meat. I didn’t even prepare myself for the taste because I was so transfixed with the expression on her face.
“Baby,” I said and she hushed me, looking away.
“Just please don’t choke on it.”
I patted her hand and stuck the fork into my mouth. Flavor burst on my tongue. It was delicious. I moaned into bites two and three like a deep-throating porn star. My wife wiped a tear from her cheek that made me want to slay all her dragons over and over again.
“Stop it, you beast.” Remi blushed, but I couldn’t help myself. I groaned the next few bites, and she ignored me, taking small bites of her own.
“Remi, if this wasn’t so good I would throw you down on the table and eat your pussy right now.” I was serious. I didn’t know what voodoo magic occurred this afternoon, but it hadn’t come from Freaky-Federico.
“Evan,” she whispered-yelled in that cute way that told me I better stop embarrassing her now if I wanted to fuck my pretty wife later. She only had so much patience for my dirty mouth. I went back to stuffing my face with the roast, taking a second helping. By the time we finished, I was full and my stomach ached, satisfied. I heard the timer beep, and Remi got up and took something out of the oven.
I joined her in the kitchen to watch her sprinkle rock sugar on the cookies.
“Are those what I think they are?” Sugar filled my nose and I would have melted into a puddle of wife-worshipping goo if I hadn’t been so determined to have my way with Remi.
“Well, they’re not teeth-killing chocolate chip. I was nervous the roast wouldn’t come out, so I went with something lighter, sweeter.”
“I want to eat one now,” I said, pretending to pout.
“You need to wait until they cool.” She pointed her finger at me, pressing it into my chest.
“I’m impatient.” I shrugged.
“Of course you are, but since you plan on doing dirty things to me later, I’d prefer you didn’t have a burnt tongue.”
My brilliant, beautiful wife had a point.
“Fine.” I huffed, feeling a bit childish at being told to wait. “Can I ask why half are kinda pink and half are kinda blue?”
Remi turned around and coyly ran her hands up my chest, locking her hands around my neck to pull me down to her level. Her mouth hovered close to mine as she licked her lips, teasing, so close I felt the heat of her little tongue touch mine. I wanted to haul her off and drag her into the bedroom to pound her into our soft mattress like the beast she called me before. Instead, I waited for her to speak.
“Because, husband”—her lips turned up in a sweet secret smile—“I’m pretty sure I�
��m pregnant, and I don’t know if it’s a girl or boy.”
My heart dropped into my stomach, and overwhelming feelings assaulted my brain and body. I put a baby inside her and I found myself speechless with wonder. This baby was planned clearly, and already loved, but holy shit, I fathered another human being.
My forehead touched hers as I pulled myself together.
“Really?”
“Yeah. I’ve had a few requests for a little girl, though.” She chuckled softly.
“Sweet girl, I don’t think it works like that,” I explained, laughing.
“Well duh, but you know how the aunties are.” Her giggle lit up the room and filled my chest. I didn’t care if I was cave-manning. This woman owned me balls and soul.
“Aunties.” I grimaced and hauled Remi into my arms, wrapping her legs around me. I used my free hand to grab two cookies, uncaring if I scorched my mouth or not. I was going to eat these sugar-laden treats, and then I was going to town eating out my pretty wife.
I totally deserved two desserts.
12
Remi
It was Christmas morning and I was throwing up. Not the hung over kind, but the hard-core, let me double check and make sure my will is written up kind. I’ve only ever felt this awful once before and that was when I was pregnant with Ethan. This is different, though, and I was worried I might have that flu going around with an upset stomach. Of all the times for this to happen it had to be Christmas morning.
I groaned, thinking about the stupid turkey I wanted to cook and all the fixings now that I’d somewhat found my way around the kitchen with my pretty new oven.
“Sweet girl!” Evan called me from the living room, and I resumed my safe space over the toilet, groaning pitifully. I didn’t want him to see me like this and yet there was no way around it when I heard the pitter-patter of tiny feet shuffle into the master bathroom. A small hand patted my back followed by a larger one that rubbed big warm circles without a word.
He sat down on the floor next to me and lifted my sleep-messed hair off my neck. Our son followed and helped hold up my hair. I never really wanted all of us in the bathroom simultaneously like this but here we were hosting our first few memories of Christmas morning.
“Tell me what you need me to do,” he asked in a gentle voice.
Ethan shouted, “We help mommy feel better.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and let a few tears leak out before gathering my breath and finding my voice. I loved these guys more than anything, and now we would welcome another little darling into our family by late summer.
“Maybe some water. A hot washcloth, please.” I braced myself against the toilet and slowly with help pushed myself up off the cool floor.
“Let’s get you sitting.” Evan walked me into the living room, helping me to the couch, and then got me the water and something to wash my face with. “Feel a little better?” He kneeled down in front of me, eye to eye.
Ethan grabbed his animal crackers, the plain kind that he loved, and handed them to me. My sweet boy was on his way to being a good man for some lucky girl many, many years from now.
“Mommy, eat,” he said, pushing them under my nose.
“Okay, baby.” I picked him up to sit in my lap and snuggled his warm body. The nausea was quick to pass and Evan sat next to me. He kept up his big warm circles on my back. I leaned into him and whispered, “I think we’re having a girl.”
“Oh yeah?” he said in a voice that meant he believed it if I did.
Our eyes met and we smiled at each other knowingly.
“Aren’t you going to ask me how I know?”
Evan chuckled. “Sweet girl, if you want a girl baby, you know I’m going to give you one.”
And that, ladies, is my husband. He’s all mine and no, you can’t have him, though to be fair he has to put up with my cooking, so I guess we’re even.
Also by M.C. Cerny
DESIGNED BY LOVES SERIES
First Love - Prequel
Love Under Construction
Unlovely Things
Heartburn
Tailwind
Love Actually
Mission For Love
Mine To Keep
Love On Tap
REVENGE & LEGACY SERIES
Rival
Hunter
Prey
Conqueror
Oath
THE MATCHMAKER SERIES
Under The Mistletoe
The Naughty List
Own The Night
The Matchmakers - Boxset
THE CLUB SERIES
An Eye For An Eye
Branded
Blinded Love - Boxset
STANDALONE NOVELS
Summer Ever After
Deviation
Night Owl
Dream Catcher
The Warden
Rescue Me
Angel
Hollywood Lover
Declan’s Demand
Royal Disaster
Secret Obsession
Never Been Kissed
* * *
FOR A COMPLETE LISTING OF M.C. CERNY BOOKS, VISIT:
www.authormccerny.com
About M.C. Cerny
M.C. Cerny is a USA Today Bestselling author of fresh sexy books. She experienced her first real ugly cry reading, Where The Red Fern Grows, and never looked back. She lives with a menagerie of human and feline fur-babies in rural NJ. When M.C. is not writing, you’ll find her lurking in Starbucks, running stupid marathons, and eating all the tacos.
‘Tis The Season To Be Jelly
Kyra Fox
Synopsis - ‘Tis The Season To Be Jelly
Cute work boy is officially off-limits… what happened to make him off-limits, you ask? He's getting promoted and he's going to be my boss.
Not that I mind but the walking, talking statue of David I've been crushing on for the past year, aka Declan Moretti, has "rules".
What's a girl to do? Well, a girl like Eloise Bloom (that's me) anger bakes Jelly Donuts, pulls on her sexiest dress and a pair of reindeer antlers, and gets drunk on tequila shots with her best friend at a pre-pre Christmas party.
It's just my luck that I stumble upon my crush/boss, sporting a Santa hat and making out with one of his little helpers under a papercut mistletoe.
I've officially given up on a chance with Declan.
Only, now we're working together, closely, late into the night, and it seems a kiss was just a kiss, and maybe Santa isn't into elves as much as I thought he was.
And when I let him sample my new donut filling? Oh my...
copyright @ 2020 by Kyra Fox
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission except in the case of brief quotations included in critical articles and reviews.
For information, please contact the author.
This a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Created with Vellum
1
Eloise
“TGIF!” I do a little happy dance in the seat of my car, smiling when my best friend Connor responds with a loud whoop.
“Yass, girl, we are going hunk-hunting tonight,” he announces, and I can imagine him doing his own happy dance in the middle of his workshop.
“Have you thought of a better pick up line yet?” I thank my lucky stars as I pull into one of the last available spots near the office. Five more minutes and I would have been forced to walk an extra half-mile in the unusual chill that descended upon LA this November morning.
“What’s wrong with, ‘My name is Con, and I’m a pro’?” Connor huffs. “I never go home alone, unlike a certain someone who prefers to crush on her coworkers from afar, Eloise.”
r /> “I’ll have you know that I’ve decided to ask Declan to lunch today.” I pull my go-to natural peach lipstick out of my purse in defiance and flip the sun visor down.
“Lunch? How brazen,” Con teases and I can just see that infuriating white toothed grin that’s probably decorating his handsome face.
“Hanging up now,” I announce with annoyance.
“See you at 8 PM, and you better wear something sexy, bitch.”
“I’ll give it my best effort.”
I check myself out in the small mirror, tucking a sandy blonde curl back into my bun, though I know it’ll just fall out again. One must at least pretend to care, I suppose.
I’ve never been low on confidence when it comes to my looks, not since I grew out of that awkward teen phase. Still, Declan Moretti is the flesh and blood equivalent of the Statue of David, with espresso-colored hair that slightly curls at the ends and those piercing latte colored eyes.
I may also have a thing for coffee, as well as for Declan.
At least one of those is currently satisfying me.
Bracing myself, I step out of the car with renewed confidence. Today is the day I get Declan to see me as more than a coworker with whom he occasionally exchanges two minutes of small talk in the office lounge.
“Elle!” a chipper female voice calls from the entrance to the building.
I squint against the sun, barely making out Patty, who works in the cubicle next to mine. A mother of three in her late thirties, Patty somehow always looks picture perfect with her manicured nails and wavy hair dyed golden blonde.
She makes an impatient gesture with her hands as I approach. “They just called an emergency meeting in the lounge. Hurry up,” she rushes me, and I pick up my pace, cursing Connor under my breath for keeping me in the car for so long. I’m usually one of the first employees in, and I don’t like being late or feeling rushed.