by Jessa York
Daddy. I don’t know where the tears came from but there was no stopping them once they started. The nurse handed me the baby after she bundled him. “Are you sure, is he—”
“He’s perfect.”
More tears fell now, right onto his receiving blanket. Relief flowed through me. He’s perfect. Not every parent gets to hear that.
I gazed down into my son’s face, taking in how absolutely amazing he was. Deep blue eyes, a bunch of dark, black hair sprouting out from under the baby cap. The cutest nose I’d ever seen. My finger gently touched it to make sure it was real.
“Are you seriously being a baby hog already?” my—wife said from across the room.
A smile spread on my face as I looked up at her. “I think so, yeah.”
Paige shot me an exhausted smile from the bed. “Bring him here, mister. I worked hard for that.” Her arms reached out into the air, urging me closer.
“Look at you,” Paige said, eyes watery as she gazed at her son for the first time. We managed an awkward handoff. “He’s beautiful,” she said, looking up at me.
I sat on the bed, watching as Paige cooed and loved up our baby. If I’d thought my heart burst open before, I’d been wrong. Right now, it exploded with so much love for the two most important people in my life, sitting in front of me that I could hardly see straight.
“You’re a champ, honey. I’ve never been so proud of anyone in my life,” I said, placing my hand on Paige’s arm.
Our matching wet eyes met. “I know this wasn’t exactly—planned,” she said, wiping her thumb under my eyes. “But it’s all so perfect, right?”
It was my turn to wipe the tears under her eyes with the pads of my thumbs, now. I leaned over to her, kissing her forehead. “Fire alarms, unicorns, calculus class, sprained ankles, attack mops, and a surprise pregnancy?” My wife let out a belly laugh, tossing her head back. “I can’t think of anything more perfect.”
43
Chapter Forty-Three or A Few Years-ish later…
Jake
I could tell just from looking that not all of the specified one hundred tiles were present and accounted for.
“Nothing, Son. Mommy’s just cheating again.”
Paige gasped, putting her hand on her heart as she shot me a fake look of astonishment. “Mommy doesn’t cheat, Jonas.”
“Mommy, thop cheatin’.” I had to laugh at his cute, little lispy speech.
“I never cheat. Rules are there for a reason,” she said in her best authoritative voice as Jonas ran off.
My answer to this was a big roll of my eyes. “More like, rules are meant to be broken,” I whispered to my wife.
She narrowed her eyes, giving me a hint of a grin. “Whatever. You go first, then.”
My eyebrows furrowed as my head tilted. Paige never let me go first without a protest. “Is this a trick?” I asked, looking over my shoulders.
Her giggle warmed my heart just like it always did. I never got tired of hearing her or our son laugh. “Just play, Professor,” she said with a cute little smirk on her face. I hadn’t been a professor in years but the sexy tone she used when saying it always got my attention.
We played like that for a while as I kept close watch on her cheating fingers as well as where Jonas was. When he finally called for help with something, I wasn’t surprised. “Go ahead, I’ll wait,” I said, plunking my feet on the coffee table.
“Can you go? Please?” Her hands clasped together like she was praying.
“You go. I’ll wait.” I nodded in the direction of Jonas’ bellowing.
“I’ll do that thing you like if you go,” she said waggling her eyebrows at me.
My cock twitched at the thought of Paige doing exactly what she promised. Thinking it over for a nano second, I rose carefully from the couch so as not to disturb the pieces. “I’m keeping an eye on you, Mrs. Richter,” I said, pointing two fingers at my eyes then at her before leaning down to kiss her. “You know one day that won’t work on me.”
A huge smile shone on her perfect face. “I doubt it.” Her hands pulled my head closer.
“You’re probably right,” I said, knowing my wife was indeed correct.
After changing the batteries on a remote-control truck, I headed back to the couch taking careful stock of the game board. Everything seemed to be in place. “You didn’t take your turn?” I asked, sitting back down.
“I thought I’d wait for you.”
“Hmm, I expected to come back to see xylophone or supercalifragilisticexpialidocious on there already.” I scratched at the two-day old stubble on my face.
“You’re so paranoid,” she said, placing her tiles down one by one on the board. I-M-P-R-E-G-N. After that my vision blurred for a breath or two. Sure enough, she continued with A-N-T.
My heart stuttered as I picked up the game board, tossing it onto the floor. My hands went under her armpits, hauling her over to straddle me. “Really?” I asked, feeling the same stinging behind my eyes as I did when she’d told me she was expecting Jonas.
“Yeah,” she replied as a few tears escaped.
“You are the absolute best wife, ever,” I said against her lips.
“True, but you may have helped a bit,” she said with a sniff.
“What’s goin’ on, guys?” Jonas asked as he ran back into the living room. “Who maded dis big mess?” he asked, his tiny arms up in the air as he looked down at the spilled game tiles on the floor.
When he spotted us kissing, he zoomed over just like always. “No kissin’,” he said, attempting to push us away from each other.
My arm went around him so he wouldn’t fall. “Buddy, we’ve got a great excuse.” I looked at Paige, silently asking if it was okay to tell our tiny son the good news. Knowing me too well, she nodded. “You’re going to be a big brother.”
“No, I’n not a bid brudder,” he said, shaking his head.
Pulling him in closer, I said, “You’re going to be a big brother. Mommy has a baby in her belly.”
“What?” he screamed, nearly popping my ear drum in the process. “Whoohoo,” he repeated on a loop as he jumped away from us, bounding from one couch cushion to the next.
“Que esta pasando aqui?” Maria stormed through the kitchen from her bedroom suite downstairs. “Jonas! Dios mio?”
“Mommy,” he screamed, not at all afraid of his grandmother who watched him during the day when I tried to get a few hours of work done. Some colleagues and I had gone into App development. The rest of my day was spent with our son. “Has,” he said, climbing to the back of the couch. “A baby in her tummy.” Then he flew down, landing on his behind.
Maria stood stock still. “Mija? Es verdad?”
Paige moved off me to stand. “It’s true, Mama. I’m pregnant.”
Her mother’s hands covered her mouth. “Oh, Mija, you’re certain?”
As Paige strode to Maria, she nodded. “Yes, positive.” Maria flung her arms around her daughter, swaying from side to side as she spoke to her in Spanish.
“Why thems cryin’?” Jonas asked, jumping into my lap, narrowly avoiding some very important parts.
“Because they’re happy.” I explained to him.
His little head leaned on his shoulder. “That why you’re cryin’, too, Daddy?” he asked, observing the wetness in the corners of my eyes.
“Yeah, bud. That’s why.”
“Hmm. Did you cry when I was in Mommy’s tummy?” he asked, beginning the trek into sibling rivalry at a startling rate.
“Yes, and when you came out.”
“Bid peoples are weird,” he said, smushing my face together with his hands, laying a big old slobbery kiss on me.
“That’s for sure,” I said, squeezing him to me for as long as he’d let me. These days he’d tolerate it less and less. Done with me, he slipped off my lap, running toward his favorite women in the world.
Maria scooped him up, swinging him around as she said something to him in Spanish that made him smile. Those
two were thick as thieves and I loved it.
Paige walked back to me, snuggling up to my side. “You ready for another one?”
“I knew we were good but I didn’t know we were this good,” I said, pulling her into me. “Honestly I’d expected it to take longer than one month of trying.”
“We are good,” she whispered, giving me a quick kiss. This was part of the plan. She’d just graduated and would soon head into a masters program.
She’d said we would maybe talk about having one more after she finished that degree. Little did she know I already had definitive plans to knock her up the second she took off her cap and gown.
Just like I’d done this time.
Grabbing her hand, I twisted her mood ring over. It was pink. “I love you, Paige. So much.”
“I love you, too, Professor.”
The End
44
Chapter Forty-Three or What’s Next?
Harrison
Another Goddamn wedding.
When will people learn?
Not today, apparently. Sighing, I checked out my slightly graying beard in the rear-view mirror. Not because I worried how it looked—more so to delay the inevitable. The hot, stifling church. The even more stifling vows.
Christ, if I could talk to the two idiots—whoever they were—perhaps I could convince them to call the whole thing off. If anyone knew how this scene ended, it was me.
Shaking my head, I thought of how damn hard marriage was. My stomach sank at the thought of their relationship’s inevitable demise.
Technically, I didn’t know the poor sap or the blushing bride. But weren’t they all the same? He’d be in his custom tux, some awful flower pinned to him. She’d be dressed in layers of white with an obscene ring on her perfectly manicured finger that could feed a small island of people for a decade.
Or fund a damn good dig.
He’d give up his freedom. She’d gladly take it.
Same old story.
A flash of white in the mirror caught my attention. What the fuck? Spinning my head around, I saw the longest, most shapely of legs sticking out a window of the church.
This by itself would have been surprising enough. But the maniacally kicking legs—sporting the sexiest of white stockings, topped with thick lace—led to a dangerously small, cock-hardening thong.
Christ.
It had been a number of years since anyone had made that kind of effort for me. Squinting, I tilted my head, pondering if anyone had ever made such an effort. Other than in my imagination, that is.
During my deliberation, I observed the delicious legs flying down, down and down. A puff of white fluff landed rather unceremoniously on the lush, green lawn.
Apparently, the legs had been attached to a very attractive redhead. She shook her long, red locks before ripping the veil straight off her head.
Hmm. This indeed was an odd turn of events.
Keeping an eye on her, I watched as the bride stood, turning her head in each direction several times. So did I. Nobody else was out here. A second later, she was off, tearing across the grass. Nearly tripping on the multiple layers of fabric, she bent down, taking an armful of the massive flounce before continuing her sprint.
Only a few meters away from my vehicle now, I hit the button on my door to lower the passenger window. She must’ve seen it as she approached.
Completely out of breath, she slammed her hands on the top of the door. “Oh my gosh,” she said, chest heaving, cleavage in imminent danger of spilling out completely from the tight, beaded bodice. “Can you, please help me?”
Even though her face currently resembled a cooked beet, she was undeniably the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid my eyes on. “You are stunning,” I said before my brain caught up with my mouth. What in the hell did I just say? Christ.
A blinding smile spread across her face. “Aww, sugar, you are too kind. But can you give me a lift? I’m in a bit of a bind here.”
Her accent held more than a hint of southern in it. I quite liked it. The way she’d said, ‘Aww, sugar’ traveled directly to my cock, pulsing at her words.
Shaking myself out of whatever reverie I was in, I answered back. “I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to be in there, my love,” I said, eyebrows lifted, nodding toward the church.
The smile dropped off her face as though drawing a shade. “See? You made that mistake as well. That,” she said, hooking her thumb behind her, “is the last place I should be right now.”
“Do you want me to go find someone for you to talk to?”
If looks could kill, I’d have a trowel stuck in my chest right now. Luckily, aside from her eyes, she seemed otherwise unarmed.
“Ahh,” she shouted, tossing her head back. This had two side effects. Firstly, her cleavage strained even more, dangerously on the brink of escaping altogether—making my semi-hard cock graduate to full-on hard in the blink of an eye. Actually, I tried my best not to blink for fear I’d miss part of the show.
Secondly, her mini-tantrum made me chuckle. The women I dealt with on a daily basis were terribly dull. Predictable.
This woman was anything but and it sparked something deep inside of me. I wanted to see what other surprises she hid under that expensive gown. Stomping her foot, she stared directly at me. “Gosh darn it,” she said, steam nearly shooting out of her ears. “I need to get the heck out of here. Can you help me or what?”
“Gosh darn it?” I replied back, frowning. Who in God’s name said that?
Reaching her hand inside the door, she clicked the unlock button before it registered in my brain what had happened. As she ripped the door open, frustration again getting the better of her. “Shoot, shoot, shoot,” she muttered, fighting with the satiny material of her skirts.
Finally finding her feet, she plunked her thong-clad arse in the seat beside me. “Honestly, do there have to be thirty layers? What even is the point?” she muttered, stuffing the dress around her legs. There was simply too much dress and not enough space. It exploded over the console, onto my arm.
Using my thumb and forefinger, I plucked at the fabric. Silky smooth. So soft it nearly melted as I worried it between the rough pads of my fingers. Even so, I’d bet it was not nearly as soft as the creamy curve of her neck I couldn’t tear my eyes off of.
The desire to lean over and trail my tongue down her neck—who was I kidding? I’d lick and suck that neck until I reached the swell of her magnificent breasts. Then I’d—
“If it’s not too much trouble, do you think you could get us the heck out of here?”
Once again, she shook me out of a rather fabulous daydream regarding her, me and those fantastic breasts of hers. My eyes shot to hers, a tad embarrassed knowing she was able to tell exactly where I’d been looking.
“Are you sure, love?”
“Lickety-split like, darlin’. Okay?” Her eyes grew even wider as her hand darted out to push the ignition button.
Nobody could say I hadn’t tried to get the bride back to the wedding. Right? Backing up, then pulling out of my spot, I said, “Any particular place in mind you’d like to go—umm, I didn’t catch your name.”
“Georgia.” She huffed, collapsing back into the seat, body sagging in what looked like relief. Her eyes began to water as she gazed out the window. “And three years ago would be great.”
***
Wondering WHY THE HECK George was climbing out a church window on her wedding day?
Also, who’s the HAWT, older man she’s currently driving away with?
Hmm, I smell the ADVENTURE of a lifetime, folks!!
I can’t WAIT for you to read, Dating Doctor Deveraux!!
PRE-ORDER NOW!!
Want to know how Jake, Paige and the baby are doing? Eager to catch up with Evan and Holly?
DON’T MISS getting the low-down on WHAT’S NEXT!!
I have a feeling Doctor Deveraux likes to get down and dirty. Especially with a certain Southern redhead who insists he whisk her away…<
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Make sure to GRAB, Dating Doctor Deveraux!!
Acknowledgments
Where do I start???
Thank you soooooooo much, Carla Kay VanZandt. I’m so incredibly blessed to have you and your fantastic advice and guidance in my life.
Alexis Krobatch, Pat Labrie, Lynn Poplawski Miller, Shelley Charlton, Jennifer Shiflett, Amanda Rutledge, Jennifer Christy. THANK YOU soooooo much for dropping everything to read for me.
Again.
Thank you to Tina Snider, Rene Webb and AJ Alexander for your friendship and encouragement.
Another HUGE thank you to my incredible ARC team. You guys seriously ROCK.
Thank you to my kiddos. You girls constantly amaze me by the intelligent, beautiful, confident, wonderful human beings you’re both turning into. My heart just about bursts every time I look at you.
Lastly, to my husband. You taught me how to love and have fun doing it. All these years later, I still can’t believe you chose me.
And to you, dear reader. I hope you enjoyed this book and that it was a welcome break from reality. Even if just for a short time.
About the Author
Jessa lives in a very nondescript, unassuming town filled with the best kind of people. Most days, she can be found in the stands of various soccer fields, cheering on her Youngest, or discussing books with her Oldest (who is an English Honors student).
At night, if she’s not up burning the midnight oil, Jessa enjoys snuggling up to her real-life-chef hubby and watching his latest cheesy romance movie pick. He always chooses the best ones (after he cooks supper, of course).
Visit her BLOG or drop in and say “hi” on any of the social media links below.
