by J. L. Beck
Then came news of the baby.
And that’s when shit got crazy.
Luckily, he’d known the right people, and the process had started to move a lot quicker—to the point where Gage felt confident in proposing to her and planning their wedding for just before the baby arrived.
Speaking of…
“Have you managed to get ahold of them?”
By the disappointed look on her face, he was guessing no—until the corner of her lip kicked up into a half-grin.
“I did—and they’re coming for the wedding in three weeks, as well as the first week baby boy here makes an appearance. It’ll be the first time in almost four years that I’ve seen my mom and dad…”
Her voice trailed off, turning into a garbled mess as tears welled in her eyes.
“Oh, baby,” he said, holding back his laugh as he leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead.
“I hate these damn hormones, okay?”
“I’ll hate them with you.” He gave her another kiss on her forehead, then turned back to the fridge. “What are you feeling for breakfast, babe?”
“Scrambled eggs with chopped pickles and toaster strudels, please,” she said with a soft, innocent sniffle.
He sighed, nodding his head. “Not the weirdest thing I’ve made for you, at least…”
Gage heard the chair scrape back and he turned around. His gorgeous, beautiful fiancé came around the table with her arms outstretched, and he smiled despite the mess in the kitchen he was about to make for her.
“Thank you, Gage,” she whispered, leaning on her tiptoes for a kiss.
“For what?” He gave her a swift peck, putting his hands on her shoulders and rubbing.
“For being you. And making me scrambled eggs with pickles.”
“Anything for you, my love.” He smiled against her lips, then swatted her butt with his hand. “Now go sit down while I get you some breakfast.”
“You’re really the best guy a girl could ask for, and I love you for it,” she said, waddling back to her chair.
Hearing that made him pause. In all their time together, she had been loath to say the three words. Having been betrayed by her first husband so deeply and so recently, he had never pressured her into saying the words, and hadn’t said them to her in fear that she’d feel forced to. Not even when he had proposed to her had the words been said.
But now… Now that she had put them out there, his heart swelled to a damn near explosion.
Before she could sit in the chair, he strode back to her, slid his arms under her ass and back, and started carrying her toward the stairs.
“Gage! What are you doing?”
He looked down at her with a devilish grin and said, “I’ve been dying to hear those words out of your mouth, woman. Now? I’m going to spend all day making you say them over and over again.”
The End
About the Author
D.K. Combs is an author of erotica, historical, paranormal, and contemporary romance. She currently resides in the dessert heat of Nevada with her supportive husband, son, and of course, her German Shepherds.
Combs began writing long before the exposition of her most famous title to date, The Highlander's Touch. Writing has always been her passion and creating creatures with no true name and the women that fall for them is what she considers a great way to live. When not writing, Combs is reading. Her idea of heaven is a whole day of nothing and baby snuggles.
Read More from D.K. Combs
Dkcombs.wixsite.com/dkcombs
The Shape of Us
Alex Owens
The Shape of Us © copyright 2017 Alex Owens
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
The Shape of Us
In love with two men, she can’t have them both—or can she?
Karlyn loves two men and doesn’t know how she could ever choose between them.
Eli is everything she ever wanted; kind, supportive, thoughtful and romantic. She can picture the two of them walking down the aisle, raising a family and growing old together.
Asher is just the opposite. He’s cocky and abrasive, but something about him sets her soul on fire and brings out her inner vixen. When Karlyn is with him, she feels alive and invincible. Life without him would be colorless and stale.
Together, Eli and Asher would make up the perfect man. It’s too bad she can’t have them both… or can she?
1
The sight of not one, but two, naked men standing before me was enough to kick my heart into double-time. The fact that I was in love with both of them, well, that had me licking my lips and squirming on the bed. I blinked my eyes to make sure it wasn’t some elaborate hallucination.
Nope, they were real. And they were all mine. I had no idea how I’d gotten this lucky, but I didn’t want to question it. I just wanted to enjoy it.
“This is your show tiger. Tell us how you want it to go down.” Asher spoke first, which wasn’t a surprise. Confident, cocky even, he never seemed to be self-conscious or unsure of himself.
Eli was another matter. He seemed to be limiting his gaze to only me, like he was a little freaked out by another naked man in the room. My heart ached for him—he was only doing this for me, because I knew in my heart-of-hearts that I could never chose between them.
Either we were all together, or all apart.
I patted the bed on both sides of my legs. “We’ll just take it slow. Come.”
Eli took a step toward me, flinching when Asher bound past him and leapt into the bed with a playful war-cry. I giggled, but cut it off abruptly when I caught the terrified look on Eli’s face.
“It’s okay,” I said softly, extending my hand out to him.
He took it and relaxed at our connection. I waited until both men were on either side of me before leaning back onto a pile of pillows. Wanting the contact, I reached out to lay my hands on both of them. Asher leaned in as I rubbed the back of his neck, kneading his thick muscles expertly.
Eli responded to my hand upon on his thigh by running his fingertips up my arm and over my shoulder. His touch was light and tentative, though the love behind it was anything but. I looked into his eyes and saw just how hard he was trying. I loved him even more for that.
Asher pulled my attention away, crushing my lips to his. He inhaled my breath, probed my mouth with his tongue, and left me panting when he pulled away. He grinned easily, but the dazed look in his eyes betrayed his nonchalance. He was a goner as far as I was concerned and I’d fallen for him just as hard.
I could feel Eli sitting immobile on the other side of me. Not wanting him to feel left out, I turned to kiss him, tenderly, really taking my time with him. His body relax into mine. His hands roamed over my bare stomach, circling higher as he pressed the flesh under my breast.
Eli suckled my left breast into his mouth. Delicate, slow pressure built as his tongue circled my nipple. Asher took over control of my other breast, drawing it into his mouth. Quick, hard and with just enough teeth-action that my body clenched down low. I tossed my head back and moaned.
I could tell the moment that it all went wrong. One minute, desire was building in me like a shaken soda can. The next, both men froze and pulled away.
&nbs
p; “Wait, stop.” Eli’s gaze flicked from me to Asher. “I don’t think…”
I felt bare, exposed without their body heat cloaking me. I looked down to my breasts, now slick with their kisses. I looked to Asher, who seemed carefully blank-faced until I figured out what to do. Lastly, I looked at Eli and did my best to offer him a patient, loving expression.
“I’m sorry,” he said, standing up and pacing the side of the room. He ran his hands though his mussed-up hair. “This is insane. I don’t think I can.”
Pause. Now rewind back a few weeks. To understand how I’d found myself in this fabulously fine predicament, we must first go back to how this all began.
2
Three Weeks Earlier
I gave up on finding love long ago, so I certainly didn’t expect to stumble over it twice on the same night. Nor did I expect to decide the rest of my life based on the random message tucked inside of a stale fortune cookie. Funny how life works sometimes.
“Are you gonna finish that?” Delayne poked her chopsticks into my shrimp fried rice. I resisted the urge to point out how gross that was, but I’d never hear the end of it if I did. What I called cleanliness she called compulsion, but not in such polite words.
I shook my head and stood, dropping my napkin on the coffee table. “Nope, help yourself. I’ve got to go get ready.”
“Wait, you forgot your fortune… maybe it will give you a clue about your date.” She tossed the plastic-wrapped confection my way, smiling. At least one of us was excited.
I caught the stupid thing, unwrapped the cookie and dropped the paper on the table. Rolling my eyes at the message inside, I handed it to Delayne and stalked off to get ready. She squealed and her footsteps sounded behind me. Clearly she wasn’t going to let me get ready in peace.
“Oh, this is perfect!” She caught up with me half-way down the hall and tugged on my arm. “Did you even read it? Step out of your comfort zone and you will find it, that which you did not know you desired.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. I’ve been on how many blind dates in the last year? Twelve. And not one of them was worth the first date, let alone a second one.” I tugged my arm free from my well-meaning friend and went to the bedroom to gather up my clothes for the night.
She followed me into the room, undeterred. “Do I need to pull up the motivational email I sent you earlier? You’re vibe attracts your tribe. So lose the negativity or all you’ll ever find are slimy toads. Tonight you’re going to get your prince, I just know it.”
I had to hand it to Delayne, her positivity was infectious. She chattered on all the way to the bathroom, sat on the window ledge while I showered and shaved, and didn’t let up until I was coiffed, dressed and actually smiling. I won’t go as far as to say that I was excited about my mystery date, but it did feel good to get dressed up for a change.
Thinking about my safety and the weirdoes I’d been set up with in the past, I chose to meet my date in a public place. I knew his first name—Eli—and the name of the coffee shop, but that was all I knew. For a slight control freak like myself, that didn’t sit well and the next five minutes found me fidgeting and glancing around the funky little cafe like I was a paranoid schizophrenic and off my medication.
From the outside, Perk You looked like a dive bar, or a seedy sex club, and I almost turned around right then and went home. But the fortune cookie stopped me. I had to get outside of my comfort zone, right. So I’d gone inside and settled myself at a little table by the front window. From there, I had a perfect view of the entrance, which just might give me enough time to bolt if Eli was hideous or something. At least, that was the plan.
“I can always tell the poor guy to hit the bricks if you want.” A voice said from the table right next to mine.
Glancing over, I was surprised to see a rather attractive guy looking back at me. He was roughly my age, a foot taller than my five-and-a-half feet, and trim in the Olympic swimmer kind of way. Lush, dirty blond hair, casual yet expensive clothes. And a smile that could melt the polar icecaps.
“What gives you the impression that I need help getting rid of someone?” I asked.
“Well,” he took a sip of his latte. “You’ve glanced at the door a dozen times in the last two minutes. And you look like a runner. It would be a shame for a man to watch you bolt out the back door. So I thought I’d offer my assistance to help you let him down easy.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. A charmer, he was.
“That’s very kind of you. But I’m not going to bolt. I’m just a little anxious meeting someone for the first time. Too many unknowns, I guess.” I glanced back towards the door, then at the clock on my phone. In another minute, my date would be late and chalking up a strike against himself.
“Ah, I see. You’re not a runner, you’re a list-maker, a cupboard organizer, a detail miner.” He smiled easily, even if his words could be taken as an insult.
“I suppose I am. You say that like it’s a bad thing though,” I countered, standing up and fishing around for my wallet, which appeared to be lost somewhere in the recesses of my purse. I found it and walked to the edge of the counter nearby and signaled to the barista. If I was going to have to wait, I wanted a mocha to nurse while passing the time.
He spun in his chair and quirked an eyebrow my way. “Not at all. I’m a marketing guy… those descriptions could very well be on my resume.”
I placed my order and turned back to face him. I’m pretty sure his eyes had lingered on my ass while I’d been turned around. But that wasn’t necessarily bad. If it was, I wouldn’t have chosen that pencil skirt for its form-fitting design.
Once I had my drink in hand, I returned to my seat and glanced at the doorway one last time. It seemed as if I’d been stood up. Fabulous, I thought as I blew across the top of the steaming cup. If I’d waited another few minutes, I wouldn’t have an eight-dollar cup of coffee to finish and would have been half-way home by then.
I glanced up to find the stranger looking at me oddly. Right, we’d been in the middle of a conversation. I tried to figure out where we’d left off.
“So, you’re a suit then?” I tucked my hair behind my ear and leaned forward to sip my latte gingerly.
He laughed—one of those half-way between a chuckle and a giggle—and pushed his fingers back through his hair. “That’s right. You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Not at all.” I shook my head and sighed, smiling. “I’m a bean counter myself. Bet you didn’t see that one coming, did you?”
“Sure didn’t,” he said with mock seriousness. “I pegged you for an artist or a hippie. Maybe a creative writing teacher.”
If I knew the man better, I would have told him about my secret obsession with writing cheesy romance stories. Instead, I changed the subject. “So are you being stood-up as well, or do you frequent coffee shops hoping to rescue damsels in distress? In your spare time, while you’re not marketing little blue pills to geriatrics, of course.”
He clutched his chest, grinning. “Ouch. I’ll have you know that I only push respectable products these days. And I’m not being stood up. Neither are you, if I’m being honest.”
It took me a second to make the leap. “Eli?”
“And you must be Karlyn.” He stood and held out his hand.
I took it and we’d been officially introduced, albeit a half hour after the date had begun. I wasn’t sure if I should be irritated or amused. There was something about his easy demeanor, the way he carried himself and the conversation, that I found refreshing.
With the ice already broken, we lapsed into the obligatory getting-to-know-you conversation. We had a lot in common—both only children, earned a living on the basis of concrete facts and numbers, even our sense of humor was the same. Witty and slightly snarky.
I picked up my coffee cup, only to set it down again when I realized it was empty. I don’t remember drinking it—we’d talked for longer than I’d thought. I looked up at Eli and bit my lip.
> He sucked in a deep breath and his eyes went wide. I licked my lips before I even realized it. The tension in the air was becoming palpable.
“Do you want to get some fresh air?” He asked, flashing his dimples. He stood and pushed his empty chair under the table.
I nodded, lifting my purse from the back of the chair. “I’d like that.”
Eli waited for me to stand, then took me by the hand and led me outside. The night was warm and a little muggy from a brief rain a few hours earlier. The street was awash in colors; blue, red, and green lights flickered and danced in the puddles. It was the perfect night for a walk and Eli seemed to think so too.
We lapsed into a comfortable silence, taking in the sights and the people parting around us in a rush, while we ambled down the sidewalk in the general direction of my apartment building. The contact of his hand on mine made me think about how much it sucked to have a roommate sometimes, not that I was seriously considering asking Eli into my home.
Oh, it’s not like I’d never had a one-night stand—the few men I’d recognized right away as Mr. Right Now’s. There was no harm in a little short-lived fun. Eli was definitely not one of those men though. He might very well be more than that, judging by the way I felt just walking down the street, my hand in his.
As we approached the outside of Sin & City, a club I’d been to a few times, the latest Ed Sheeran song drifted out into the street through the club’s open doors. I felt a slight tug on my hand and I looked up to find Eli had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.
He stood with his arms extended and a grin on his face. “May I have this dance?”
“Here? Now? In the middle of the sidewalk?” I blushed and glanced at the people milling around. I hated being the center of attention, but that stupid fortune cookie popped into my head once again. Well, hell.
