Why Not? (Love Riddles Book 3)

by Carey Heywood

  “No, this is good. I can help.”

  He looks back over at me. “How?”

  “Okay, yes or no answers from this point so neither of us will be scarred for life. Deal?”

  He nods so I ask, “Did you take care of yourself before your date?”

  “Take care of my . . . ohh.” He coughs, then says, “No.”

  “Okay, next time.” If there is a next time, I think to myself. “Do that before you see her. That way you won’t go as fast if things progress to the bedroom.”

  He nods, not looking at me.

  Next awkward and invasive question. “Okay, do you think she finished?”

  He grimaces and shakes his head. “No.”

  “Make sure she does first before your pants come off,” I coach.

  “Before my pants come off. How?”

  Oh God, Gavin. I send a silent thank you to heaven that Trip knows a multitude of ways to get me off.

  “Your hand or your mouth,” I answer.

  He doesn’t say anything, which can’t be a good sign. I seriously hope he doesn’t expect me to talk him through how to make a girl come. Geez, I’ll need a flow chart and a diagram of the female anatomy.

  “Please tell me you’ve watched porn,” I say.

  He scoffs. “I have.”

  Laughing, I reply, “Next time pay attention do what they’re doing.”

  “You make it sound easier than it is,” he grumbles.

  “Okay, you’re lucky I love you. For both hands and mouth usage, the trick is the focus your attention on her clit. If you’re not sure where that is, look it up online.”

  When I glance over at him, he’s back to looking embarrassed. I am a shitty friend for being so blunt with him. Sugar-coating it would have softened my delivery.

  “Listen to me, Gav. She came over which means she likes you, and I’m so excited that you guys took it to the next level. Women want a man who wants to take the time to make it good for them. Let her know that’s what you want, and I promise you she will help you. Being able to talk to each other about what feels good and what does and doesn’t work is normal in a relationship.”

  “Yeah right. Did Trip have to ask you for help?” he counters.

  “Don’t assume because we had good chemistry physically from the start that we don’t talk and aren’t still learning new ways to enjoy each other.”

  He slows and makes the turn onto my street. “You still talk about what does and doesn’t work?”

  “Of course we do,” I reply.

  What I don’t tell him is the bulk of our conversations are ‘harder, right there, yes, that feels amazing.’ Trip hasn’t needed any coaching on what not to do.

  Gavin parks in front of our house, and I see Trip waiting for me by his SUV.

  “Don’t worry too much about Claire. Everything is going to be fine,” I say as I unbuckle my belt.

  “See you back at the station and,” he gulps before finishing, “thanks.”

  I give him wave and mouth ‘Anytime,’ before heading to Trip. He meets me halfway, kissing me hello, his hands dropping to either side of my belly. There’s no hiding how much I’m showing now.

  It’s like I swallowed a balloon over New Years. I’m going to need to do some shopping soon. There’re only so many outfits I have that are stretchy enough to compensate for my expanding waistline.

  “How was your morning?” I ask once he lifts his head.

  “Better now,” he replies. “How’d your interview go?”

  I shrug. “It was fine until she told me the baby would be here in a flash.”

  Opening my door for me, he replies, “We still have almost five months.”

  Like that is supposed to calm me down. Time has flown by since we found out we were pregnant in the first place.

  “Yes, but with helping Kacey plan the wedding and all of the stuff we still need to do to get ready, it doesn’t seem like we’ll have time to do it all.”

  “Do I need to talk to Kacey?” he asks.

  I shake my head, “Don’t even joke about it. It would kill her if she knew I was stressing out.”

  “While we’re on the topic of stressing you out—“

  I grab his arm, my eyes widening. “What now?”

  “My mom and Sadie want to come down for the weekend.”

  Relaxing, I let go of his arm and slide my hand through the air like a sharp blade through butter, no problem. “Your mom and Sadie are both cool. Knowing them, I’ll get my tarot read and have to hang out barefoot in the backyard. That’s not stressful.”

  “They want to take us furniture shopping and buy the nursery set as their gift for the baby.”

  My back, neck, and hell even my ass stiffens. “They want to what?”

  He lifts his hand from the steering wheel and pushes his fingers through his hair. “I told Mom she didn’t have to, but she’s got a crazy hard-on to do this for us.”

  The idea is both thoughtful and generous. The issue is her design esthetic isn’t ours.

  “Is she going to let us pick the set out?” I ask, visions of a crib crafted to look like it was carved out of a giant walnut shell popping into my mind.

  He doesn’t reply.

  “Trip,” I whine.

  His shoulders sag slightly. “She’ll say we’re the ones who will pick it out, but if she sees something she likes more, there may be an issue.”

  “I don’t want a walnut shell crib,” I say with a frown.

  “A what?” he asks, confused.

  “Nothing,” I mumble, now not so sure I want his mom and her wife to visit.

  “I do have good news about something else,” he replies.

  Turning to gaze at his profile, I say, “I like good news.”

  He smiles at the road ahead. “Trial date has been set for the guy who trashed your grandparent’s house.”

  “Oh, that is good news. What’s the date?” I ask, reaching for my cell.

  If I can clear it with Stan, I’d like to do a follow-up segment on the vandals. It’s beyond satisfying to be able to tell the complete story. Our viewers already know that these break-ins were happening from my original segment. Hopefully this jerk will get the book thrown at him in court, and I’ll be able to report he’s going to jail for a long time.

  “It’s not until next month,” he replies.

  “It better not be on my birthday,” I say.

  He pulls into the parking lot of my doctor. “Nope, it was earlier in the month and, speaking of birthdays, what do you want to do for yours?”

  It’s been years since I made a big deal about my birthday, but since I’ll be turning thirty this year everyone wants to make it into some production.

  It’s not like a can drink, so I’m not sure if I want to sit around and watch all my friends do it.

  “I wouldn’t mind going away, just the two of us,” I admit.

  He parks but doesn’t say anything so I quietly mutter to myself, “Well you asked,” as I slide out of his SUV.

  He’s at my door in a flash, his hands on my hips, his lips at my ear. “Where do you want to go?”

  My head turns so I can meet his eyes. “Someplace pretty, maybe overlooking the ocean.”

  He kisses my neck. “A nice private room where we can stay in bed the whole weekend with the balcony doors open so we can listen to the waves while I have my way with you.”

  I suck in a breath. “That sounds perfect.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” he promises.

  His lips move from my neck to kiss me hard. I’m getting the impression that Trip likes my idea.

  He lifts his head, and grins down at me before taking my hand. Together we walk into the doctor’s office.

  After our first appointment, I was positive the whole town would be gossiping about my being pregnant. It’s weird how scared I was about people finding out.

  That all seems silly now. Nothing bad happened. There were no angry rioters storming the station demanding my resignation.


  Now, with Trip by my side, I can proudly sit in this waiting room, excited by our future instead of fearing it.

  “Reilly,” Krista, the nurse who works with my doctor, calls my name.

  Trip and I both stand. Other than gaining a few pounds since my last appointment, this check up was more of the same.

  Before long, we’re walking out together.

  When we’re back in his SUV, I say, “Gavin and Claire finally got it on last night.”

  He flinches. “I don’t want to know that shit.”

  “It didn’t go well,” I reply, ignoring him.

  “Reilly,” he grumbles.

  “If you were to give him advice—“ I start but don’t get far.

  “No fucking way.”

  “But Trip,” I argue.

  He shakes his head.

  I fold my arms over my chest and stare out my window. Why does he have to be so annoying? He parks at the door of the station. Before I can get out, he reaches across the center console and pulls me halfway, meeting me in the middle.

  I’ve forgiven him by the time he finishes kissing me.

  With a wide smile, I walk back into work. Remembering what Trip told me about the court date, I set right off to find Stan.

  “He’ll leave you,” a voice snickers from behind me.

  Whirling, I turn to find Tad there, too close. Even though I initially worried what people in this town would think of my pregnancy, I was secretly hoping it would for once and for all get Tad to leave me alone.

  At first, when people at work found out I was having a baby, it had. It was short-lived apparently.

  “Go away, Tad,” I reply.

  His gaze moves over me, lingering on my stomach. “Ask him about his brother.”

  “When are you coming to the courthouse?” I ask, wrapping my arms around her as I stand behind her.

  She sets down her hairbrush and hugs my arms to her.

  Meeting my eyes in the mirror’s reflection, she replies, “I have an interview at the station this morning. As soon as I’m done with that I’m coming. Want me to text when we’re on the way?”

  Resting my chin on her shoulder, I say, “Yeah.”

  She holds my gaze for a beat before she smiles. “Are you going to let me finish getting ready, or what?”

  If anyone ever told me I’d look forward to sharing a bathroom with a woman, I’d tell them they were crazy. Funny thing is, I do. I can be brushing my teeth and look over to see Reilly doing the same, and I love it.

  She’s not only having our baby, but we’re building a life together here.

  Each night when I go to sleep, she’s beside me, and every morning when I wake up, it’s with her in my arms. When I’m at work, I think about her and wonder how her day is going. Even when I’m not at work, if we’re apart, she’s always on my mind.

  The time we spend together, my love for her does nothing but grows. We have fun together. She’s hilarious and watching her interact with the people she cares about is inspiring.

  We babysit Dylan so Julie and Jimmy can go out on dates. We go over to her co-worker Gavin’s house to hang out with him and his girlfriend. She also goes nuts over his dog, Beast.

  Seeing her with him, I’m sure once the baby is here we’ll be getting a dog too. She’s good with anyone, a natural diplomat. My mom absolutely loves her though, knowing Reilly, it’d be impossible for anyone not to.

  That’s why it’s driving me crazy that she’s made no mention of us getting married.

  “You look ready,” I reply.

  She scrunches her nose, her eyes going squinty. She’s under the impression that when she does this she looks intimidating. She is wrong. Whenever she makes this face she looks nothing but adorable.

  “I haven’t even started putting on my makeup.”

  Turning my head, I kiss the side of her neck. “You look gorgeous.”

  Her face softens. “Thank you. I love that you think that but—“

  I finish her sentence since I already know what she’s going to say. “High Definition.”

  “Exactly,” she replies, shaking her shoulders to give the hint to let go.

  I do the opposite; I hold her tighter and turn her face towards mine to kiss her, hard.

  She’s breathless by the time I’m done. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, in high def and not.”

  Her mouth settles in a sweet smile. “You say the nicest things, Trip Lowell.”

  “I speak the truth,” I murmur.

  Then, so she doesn’t kick my ass for making her late, I let her go. “Text me when you’re on the way.”

  “My interview should be live. If they let you change the channel, you can watch.”

  “I’ll do that babe.”

  Leaving her is easier today since I’ll see her soon. Walking out of our room, I pause by the room we’re starting to set up for the baby. The plan is to buy a place before she delivers, so we haven’t put anything together yet or have decorated it.

  For now, it’s a baby storage room. The crib, dresser, and rocker set my mom got us is still in the boxes. I like to look at the pictures on them.

  When my mom and Sadie came down to take us shopping, Reilly was scared of what my mom might pick out for us. Luckily, my mom left the deciding completely up to us.

  We went with a light warm-toned solid wood set. Since we don’t know if we’re having a boy or a girl yet, we thought this would be gender neutral enough to work for either.

  “You’re going to be late,” Reilly calls from our bedroom.

  Glancing at my watch, I frown when I see she’s right. “Alright babe. See you later.”

  “Love you,” she shouts.

  “Love you too, Reils,” I call back.

  Walt is already at his desk when I walk in. He smirks at me and I laugh. He’s mister ten minutes early, and I’m on time by the skin of my teeth. It drives him crazy. He’s fun to mess with.

  Yesterday I was early so I waited in my car until I could come in right on time.

  “You’re going to be late one day brother,” he mutters.

  I shake my head. “My internal clock has never let me down.” I don’t tell him if Reilly hadn’t told me to get going, my internal clock would have failed today.

  “Are you ready to testify?” he asks.

  “Not my first rodeo,” I reply.

  He tilts his head toward a file on his desk. “We got an interesting call this morning.”

  I slide into my seat and get to work.

  “Are they still interviewing jurors?” I ask, glancing at my watch.

  Walt nods. “It’s taking longer than normal. I’m not sure if it’s his lawyer or the DA who is to blame.”

  Standing, I walk over to an officer working the metal detector. “Hey man, you have a remote to that TV?”

  He nods and passes it to me.

  I turn it on and tune it to Reilly’s channel.

  “Thanks,” I say, handing it back to him.

  “That’s your girlfriend, right?” he asks, motioning to the screen.

  I smile. “Yeah, I told her I’d try and watch her interview today.”

  This officer is older, gray liberally coloring his hair and mustache. “I remember when her parents passed away. I was the first officer at the scene.”

  I nod, not sure how to reply.

  He keeps talking “It was a tragedy.” It’s good to see that both Reilly and her brother are doing good now.”

  “Thank you,” I murmur, nodding.

  He gives me a tight-lipped smile and goes back to his work.

  It shouldn’t surprise me anymore how much this town loves her. Without fail, at least once a week or more, people stop me to ask after her.

  Returning to my seat, I focus my attention on her interview. She’s not doing the interview on the main set. No, she’s sitting in a small garden they have set up behind her station. It’s a more informal setting and works for the subject matter of her interview.

&n
bsp; Today she’s interviewing a local florist.

  They are sitting at a bistro-style table, surrounded by bouquets of flowers.

  “Thank you so much for joining us today Leah. I know a lot of our viewers would love to learn what’s trending for this Valentine’s Day,” she says.

  “Thank you for having me. I’m so excited to have this opportunity,” her guest replies.

  “You are so welcome.” She gestures to the flowers surrounding them. “I can’t wait to learn more about your gorgeous arrangements. Which one would you say has been the most popular for preorders this year?”

  Leah lifts her hand and motions toward a large bouquet of roses with baby’s breath. “Our two dozen rose bouquet is by far our most popular bouquet for Valentine’s Day.”

  Reilly grins wide. “I’m not surprised. Your roses are not only gorgeous but a classic. Are your suppliers ready to meet the demand?”

  Leah nods. “We are proud to partner with local greenhouses and nurseries for our flowers.”

  “Reports have shown the gift giving is down in favor of gift cards. Has that impacted your business in any way?” Reilly asks.

  Her interviewee shakes her head. “We seem to have avoided those concerns. Luckily, there are few things that can replace the feeling of receiving a beautiful bouquet of fresh flowers.”

  Reilly nods. “You’re right. It’s so much fun to get flowers.”

  Mentally, I cringe, trying to remember the last time I surprised her with flowers.

  “Now, if roses are the most popular, what bouquet is currently in second place?” Reilly asks, again motioning to the colorful plants all around her.

  Before the flower lady can reply, both she and Reilly look off camera and to the right. Having been to her work more than once, I know they’re looking toward the side entrance from the back parking lot.

  Leah presses her hand to her chest, her eyes wide as they move from the right to Reilly, and then back again,

  Reilly looks right to the camera and shrieks. “Gav, no.”

  I stand, my pulse pounding in my ears.

  She’s scared.

  Why the fuck does she sound scared?

  The camera falls, and as it crashes to the ground, I hear two things at the same time, a gunshot and Reilly’s scream. When it lands, I see Reilly’s feet. She’s out of her chair and backing away, stumbling around flowers.