Cocky Soldier: A Military Romance (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 6)

by Faleena Hopkins

  He deflates. “Fine. Eat.”

  Jeremy takes my hand. “Join us?”

  Justin calls over with an amused smirk to the chefs. “I trust you won’t spit in our food.”

  Alberto’s eyes dance as he cocks an eyebrow. “That depends. Is Bryan sitting with you?”

  My jaw drops and I glance to Bryan, who’s also shocked.

  Alberto’s voice drops to a severe timber as he informs his boss, “We’re walking out as soon as this place closes tonight, Marchand. Find yourself a new kitchen. We’re done. Until then, guys, you ready to do your best work?”

  Mutual agreements all around.

  Alberto asks me, “Meagan, what can we make for you?”

  Smiling, I say, “Sea Bass please. Thank you.”

  “Any time. And I mean that. You go somewhere? I’ll come with you.”

  Blushing with gratitude I nod to Alberto and feel a tug on my hand. Jeremy leads me out to the dining room for the first time as a guest.

  The brothers let Lana walk out in front of them, ever the gentlemen, so I hear her mutter right behind me, “I have the worst luck with men.”

  Jake hears her and says, “I have some cousins I could introduce you to.”

  Jeremy gives my fingers a quick squeeze with a look that says he’s never gonna let that happen.

  Jeremy

  “Where do you want this crappy, flower painting?” I call to my wife.

  She pokes out her head from our kitchen and gives me an impatient look. “It’s a beautiful work of art, Jeremy.”

  Smirking at her I hold it up. “Where do you want the fluff piece, Boss?”

  “Stop calling me that! I’m not your boss anymore,” she sighs. “I’m your partner. We invested equally in this restaurant, so we are equals.”

  “I like you above me in status, baby. Makes getting you below me in bed all the more challenging.” I set the canvas down and pull her to my body. “Why must you argue with me when you know it makes me hard?”

  She laughs and kisses me, slipping her fingers into my hair. “You don’t like the new paintings?”

  “Meh.”

  “But it was your idea to feature local artists.”

  “Doesn’t mean I’m going to like them all.”

  Cecily’s voice echoes in from the back entrance of our six-month-young, surprisingly popular, gluten-free leaning, lounge-bar-restaurant fusion thingy that we named Crash. I thought it up after two weeks of us searching for the right name while we haggled with the previous owner to throw the liquor license in with the price.

  When Meagan asked, “Why Crash?”

  I told her, “It’s how we met.”

  Sold. We hired a designer to work with Meagan on how she wanted the place to look since I have no design skills what so ever.

  Then Jake and his men did the construction on it. Uncle Don was totally on board with him taking on the side project since we’re family. Besides, he was like everyone else, happy I found someone who made me happy and woke me back up.

  It’s nothing grand and inaccessible like Le Marchand was, which is no longer in business by the way. We heard Bryan went back to France where he could be appreciated.

  Crash has half the tables and half the ceiling height, and no fucking old-school chandeliers that could hurt anyone if they fell. It’s darkly lit, intimate and comfy with loads of throw pillows in the bar section’s booths, tea lights and succulent plants on all the dining tables, serving comfort food that Meagan has dreamed up with the help of Alberto, by people in black jeans and black halters and tank tops. Every time Jaxson, Rachel, Sylvia, and Ben come down from his ranch he calls it, hip.

  But hipsters have sullied that word a bit so I don’t like it. I like to call it…our first baby.

  “Guys? You here?” Cess calls again.

  “Keep walking!” Meagan shouts, right in my ear.

  I make a face and wiggle my finger in it. “Jeeeeezus.”

  She laughs and smacks my ass before turning to greet her sister who’s walking into the main room with Kevin holding her hand, his arm at full extension since he’s only three and a half. Meagan dips down and lifts him up. “Hi little buddy!”

  “Hiiiiiii Germy!” he waves at me.

  “He likes you more than me,” she grumbles.

  Ignoring her I smile at him, “Hey, Kev, you get a haircut, little man? Decide to wear carrots to spruce it up?”

  Cecily starts picking the orange pieces out. “He always throws his food around. I’m hoping he grows out of it. Oh, that’s beautiful!” she says as her eyes land on the flower painting. “I love that! How much?”

  “One dollar,” I mutter.

  Meagan rolls her eyes. “Jeremy hates it.”

  “What? Why?” Cecily stares at the piece. “It’s so pretty!”

  “He’s a guy,” Meagan mutters, setting Kevin down. “With horrible taste.” She picks up the canvas and carries it to the wall opposite my bar. “And it’s only here for two weeks before we switch it out for someone’s else work. How about here?”

  I wave my hand back and forth. “Oh no, you don’t!”

  Her eyebrows fly up with fake innocence. “What? This is great! You can admire it every night while you’re working. See?”

  “Ha ha and no. How ‘bout we put it in the bathroom. That way when I take a shit I’ll have inspiration.”

  You know what I love about my wife? She hung the damn thing in the men’s room.

  Meagan

  Cathy waves goodbye to us as Jeremy locks up. He calls over his shoulder to her while turning the key, “You kicked ass tonight!”

  She laughs, “Did you see that guy begging for my number?”

  “Which one?” I smile.

  “Very funny. You know that hasn’t happened since this.” She points to her eight-months-pregnant belly. “Although my boobs sure are bigger now. Guess that’s why you guys keep me around now that I’m moving slower, huh? Hey, are we having brunch at your house tomorrow, or are you guys coming to our house?”

  “You’re coming over!” I lace my fingers with my husband’s as we head to our Jeep. “Eleven o’clock. Just you guys. We can’t fit anyone else.”

  Jeremy squeezes my hand. “Hey.”

  “Well, we can’t.”

  Climbing in her Nissan, Cathy puts in her earbuds to listen Steve Martin’s audio book on the way home. She’s a huge fan of his, too. If he ever comes to Atlanta again, she and I will go see him. I missed him last time he was at the Fox Theater and have been kicking myself ever since.

  Jeremy helps me up into the Jeep as he always does. “Thank you, handsome.”

  “You think my house is too small.”

  I knew there would be a discussion. Biting my lip I tell him, “Climb in. We’ll talk about it on the way.”

  “We’ve already talked about it.”

  I tilt my head. Mr. Stubborn exhales through his nose and shuts my door, trudging around the hood and locking eyes with me through the windshield from under his pronounced brow. God, he can be so dramatic. As he starts the engine and slams the door I try very hard not to smile, and succeed. Leaning my elbow on my window I wait for us to leave the parking lot before starting.

  I know he wants me to be the first to speak. He’s too busy stewing in defensive juices.

  As soon as we’re on Piedmont, I steady myself and begin, “You know it was painful for me to sell my condo.” I hold up my hand before he interrupts. “But I sold it because you already had the money saved up to invest in Crash, and I needed to put in my half.”

  “I never asked you to. I could have paid for it.”

  Locking eyes with him I gently remind him, “And like I’ve said before, then it would have been in essence your restaurant.”

  “We’re married. Everything is ours.”

  “But it was my dream and I wanted to pay half. And if everything is ours, then why did you just say, you think my house is too small, not our house?”

  His lips tighten.

&nbs
p; I reach over and take his hand, which is not as malleable as usual. Time to employ a trick Rachel taught me.

  This is the first healthy relationship I’ve ever been in, so I needed all the help I could get because when Jeremy and I got married less than a year after meeting, I was in over my head, crazy in love with him, but I had no tools.

  So I called my sister-in-laws and gathered enough advice to write a book on marriage counseling. Since they have strong marriages with stubborn men, and they’re all pretty strong-willed themselves, I knew I was asking in the right places.

  Drew told me in her sweet drawl, “Only ask someone in a bad marriage what not to do. And if you do, do it discreetly. Most people can’t tell you the truth anyway, because they don’t want to know the reason things are going badly. They’d have to do something about it.”

  Of course my sister offered up her pearls, too, and I took notes, but asking Drew, Rachel, Jaimie, Sarah, and even Luna when I can get her on the phone, brought me closer into the family. Which I wanted so badly. Cecily is a big fan of them, too. She, Mike and Kevin come to all the family functions. As do my parents. It’s become a real zoo.

  So what Rachel taught me is not so much a trick but a way to get through to a man when he’s heading into his man-cave. We love that they’re so masculine, so it’s mandatory to keep them that way. I don’t want to cut his balls off, figuratively speaking. I like them too much. Non-figuratively speaking, too. And yes, I mean I want us to keep having sex. A lot.

  I need to make him feel loved.

  Let him know I’m not attacking him.

  I am on his side.

  Always.

  That’s what love is.

  “I want you to know while we talk about this, that I love you. I want to discuss this sensitive topic so we can move on and be happy.”

  Jeremy glances to me, the sharp edges around his eyes softening. He shakes out his shoulders a little to release the building steam and mutters, “I love you, too. Okay, go.”

  “You’ve let me decorate your home and it’s much cozier and I’m so happy with it.” He meets my eyes like he doesn’t believe me. “I am! I just have my heart on something bigger.”

  He huffs through his nose, struggling not to get defensive as he says, “We’ve been very happy in that house, baby. The dogs are happy. They love it there.”

  “Yes, but will the baby?”

  Jeremy blinks away from the windshield. “Did you just say baby?”

  Acting very casual I lean on my hand and stare off. “Because I was just wondering if we have enough space? I mean, sure, when it’s a newborn we’ll want it in our room. But what about when we start having sex again? Baby’s gotta go!” I twist in my seat and very seriously say, “Do you understand my dilemma?”

  Jeremy’s frowning. He pulls the Jeep over and puts it in park, even hitting the emergency brake. “Meagan Cocker, are you telling me that you’re pregnant?”

  “Why else would I say our home is small?”

  He blinks at me and starts shaking his head. “Oh man, I don’t like you sometimes.” Bursting into laughter he hits the dashboard and shouts, “Why’d I have to teach you how to fuck with me? You’re better at it than I am now!”

  “You’re going to be a daddy, Jeremy.”

  His jaw clenches and his Adam’s apple quivers. “When did you find out?”

  “Before the shift today. It’s why Cecily popped by. She brought the tests. We did three!”

  His voice is hoarse with emotion as he asks, “Why didn’t you tell me?” He’s trying not to cry.

  “I wanted to tell you when it was just us, when we could go home and celebrate alone. I didn’t want everyone at Crash congratulating us until we had some time to be together and soak in it. And I had Cess do the tests with me because I always promised her I’d do that. Plus I didn’t want to disappoint you if it was negative. It’s very complicated, all this fertility stuff.”

  Jeremy bends over the gearshift to kiss me. He starts laughing with happiness mid-kiss and pulls away to shout, “We’re gonna have a baby!”

  I laugh and clap my hands, grinning, before he leans over and grabs my face. “God, I love you, Meagan. I love you so damn much I can hardly stand it sometimes.”

  With tears in my eyes I whisper, “You should have seen how mad you were getting.”

  He smiles, his eyes reddening. “I’m going to get you back.”

  “I think delivering the baby without meds will be payback enough.”

  He chuckles and kisses me, pulling back to murmur against my lips, “Fair enough.”

  Jeremy

  Meagan waits for me to unlock the door, readying herself for the onslaught of love we’re about to receive. Aslan and Noosh come bounding out of our house—Aslan to me and the small, tan and white, fluffy girl-dog I bought for Meagan, to her.

  “Hello Noosh! How are you little love? Did you miss me? You did? Awwww!” She carries her into a home that, had you walked in a year ago, you wouldn’t have recognized it.

  It’s like Better Homes & Gardens threw up in here.

  I give her a hard time, but I secretly like all the homey improvements. Except for one picture that hangs above the espresso machine. It’s supposed to be abstract but just looks like a blob to me. But whatever. As long as my wife is happy, I’m happy.

  She sets down Noosh, pets Aslan and glances up to me from where she’s scratching behind his ears. “Are you thinking about the baby?”

  I nod and pull her into the bedroom. The dogs try to follow but I bend and tell them, “We’ll be back. You can’t come in yet. Deal with it.”

  Their happy, panting mouths shut, and their heads tilt before I close the door.

  I press Meagan against the nearest wall and she reacts with surprise. “Right here?”

  “I wanted to fuck you in the living room but they stare at us and it’s weird,” I murmur, working hungry kisses down her neck. “I can’t believe you’re carrying our child. That’s so fucking sexy.”

  “It excites me, too,” she whispers, pulling my black tank top off over my head. “Every free chance I had to peek out into the bar tonight I was thinking how much I wanted to tell you…and how much I wanted to fuck you.”

  I devour her in a frenzied kiss, clawing my way down her legs and fumbling with urgency to unzip her black jeans. “Going to have to buy preggy-jeans for work.”

  She locks eyes with me. “I. Can’t. Wait.”

  My cock reaches for her, painfully confined, and I groan and drop to my knees, hurrying to get her naked from the waist down. I throw her left thigh over my shoulder and separate her swelling folds with my fingers, diving my tongue in there and licking her while she rubs against it.

  “Just like that, Jeremy,” she moans, grabbing my head. “That’s a good bartender.”

  I chuckle low and deep into her pussy and shove my tongue as far as I can get it inside her. Her moan heightens and her fingers claw at my head. “Yes!” She rubs her cunt against my mouth and my eyes roll back for how hot that is. She cries out and presses down. “Not deep enough,” she whimpers. “More. I need your cock. I neeeeeeed you. Don’t make me wait.”

  “Oh yeah?” I jump up and strip, taking a few steps back so she can watch. With hooded eyes my wife stares at my body like she’s ravenous for it. I shove my jeans off and strip everything, even my watch.

  “You’re taking too long!” she moans.

  Palming myself I rasp, “What do you want?”

  “You!”

  “Take off your shirt. Nice and slow. Good. That’s right. Bra next. Slower. Yeah. That’s it. Everything off. Even your necklace. Slide it to the ground there. Perfect. No, keep the wedding ring!”

  Her eyes go wide as she leans against the wall, nude and wet. She reaches down between her legs and plays with herself. “You said everything.”

  “That rings stays. And keep touching yourself because wow, that’s fucking hot.”

  She begins to remove the ring, and I start for the ba
throom. “Fine. We’re done here.”

  Laughing she calls over, “Okay! The ring’s on! Come back! I’m still married to you.”

  I eyeball her from the side and see her looking at my cock because from profile it’s intimidating. “You like this?”

  “I wish it were bigger.”

  I crack up and mutter, “Yeah right. Come here.”

  She releases her pussy and pads over to me, nice and slow while slipping her fingers in her mouth and sucking. My mouth slackens because she’s never done that before.

  I need to get her pregnant more often.

  “What do you want me to do, Boss?” she smirks, turning the tables.

  “Ooh, I like that,” I rasp, stroking myself. “Hang on.” I pick her up and throw her on the bed, standing in front of her. “I want to watch you make yourself cum.”

  Meagan’s eyes flicker. “I can’t do that. I’ve never done that before!” Off my look she corrects herself, “With someone watching! It’s too scary.”

  “Too vulnerable, you mean.”

  “Yeah,” she sighs, covering her face and crossing her legs.

  My voice is thick with lust as I tell her, “Do it anyway.”

  She locks eyes with me, nervous, but her legs open a little. Then a little more. And a little more. She watches me staring at her moist pussy like I want to lick it. Her hand slides down and hovers over the mound.

  “You throbbing, baby?”

  She breathes, “Yes.”

  “You want to touch yourself, don’t you?”

  She smiles, “Yes,” shyly biting her lip.

  “Give your cunt a little touch for me, see how it feels.”

  Her fingers shiver downward and she touches the cleft just above and then dips down to inside her folds to tickle her clit with her finger. Her breath hitches. So does mine. I want to stroke myself but this is so fucking hot I know I’ll cum before I want to.