by Sara Hazel
Max surprises the hell out of me by slapping my back just like old times. “Deac was my best friend since, what, second grade?”
“Third. That’s when my mom moved us here after she divorced my dad.”
“Right. Third grade. Mrs. Nielson.”
“She sat us next to each other and almost immediately had to move us to opposite sides of the class because we wouldn’t stop talking.”
“And then she had to move us back together because we still kept talking, just louder.”
We both laugh at the memory.
“But now you’re enemies.”
Max and I look at each other.
Eventually, I say, “I thought we were, but it doesn’t feel like we are.”
He nods. “Water under the bridge. But why did you go to UCLA?”
My eyes dart to Molly, and I feel the hint of a blush. “Girls, man. You wouldn’t believe the difference between a college visit to Michigan versus the warm beaches of LA. I wish we would have talked, but you were so pissed. You punched me, remember?”
“Oof. I forgot about that. I think I was drunk that night. Jesus, how stupid were we back then?”
Molly puts her hands on her hips just like Mrs. Nielson used to do when we were causing trouble. “Pretty damn stupid from what I’m hearing. You two need to make up because I’m not going to lose either of you over some stupid high school fight.”
Max offers me his hand.
I want to tell him to fuck off, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out why. Sure, we’d both been pissed at each other. Are we supposed to throw away a potential friendship because I feel like he should apologize for something that happened a lifetime ago? Thankfully, Molly is here to bring us back together. Yet another thing she’s making better about my life.
Without any further hesitation, I shake it and pull him in for a hug. “Glad to have you back, Max.”
“If you’re still interested in teaching some kids with poor technique how to tackle, I’d love to have you on the staff.”
“That’s better,” Molly says with a stiff nod of her head that reminds me of my mom. Molly is going to make a great mother someday. “Now, Dad. This is probably going to hurt a little bit, but you need to leave. Deacon and I have breakfast plans. What do you say we all meet up for lunch later?”
Max’s eyes widen. “Oh. Right. You two are a thing. Wow. That’s…okay. Lunch.” He pats my shoulder again. “We’re going to need to go out for a beer sometime very soon so I can tell you exactly what I’m going to do to you if you ever hurt my daughter.”
I laugh. It feels so good to have my old friend back in my life. “Anytime.”
He waves at us both before heading out the door.
Molly quickly locks it behind him. “Just in case any other old friends decide it’s time to try and chat. I’ve got plans for you. Now, go clean up while I make you some breakfast.”
Molly
Deacon drops his fork onto his empty plate. “I don’t know what you did to that box of pancake batter, but it never tastes that good when I make it.”
Trying to sound mysterious, I say, “I made it with love.”
The truth is I followed the directions exactly. Happiness just makes everything taste better.
He reaches toward my mouth. “You’ve got something here.”
At the last second, I grab his wrist and suck his finger into my mouth, teasing him with a light flick of my tongue. “Why don’t we clean up after dessert?”
Without releasing his finger, I move from my chair onto his lap.
“Don’t we have to wait thirty minutes to avoid cramping,” he jokes before kissing my neck and working his hands inside my t-shirt to pinch my nipples.
I’m still only wearing his t-shirt. He came to the table after his shower wrapped in a towel. It doesn’t take much work at all to free his erection and guide it to the edge of my entrance.
“You’re probably right.” I shift my hips, mixing our slick juices together and earning a groan from my man. “Safety first, right?”
His hands find their way down to my hips. “First one to give in has to do the dishes.”
Because of gravity, he has the advantage. It isn’t long before my thighs are quivering.
Just when I’m about to give in and lower myself onto him, he says, “Fuck it,” and roughly pulls me down onto him, filling me with his entire length all at once. “It wouldn’t be fair for you to cook and clean up, right?”
“Sure.” It’s more of a gasp than a word. I can’t think straight when he has me filled so completely. “It’s so big. Just…fuck me, Deacon. Enough talk. Give me dick.”
With me still speared by his cock, he carries me to his bed. Somehow, I end up on my hands and knees. His hands squeeze my hips. He starts fucking me exactly the way a good girl needs to be fucked every once in a while. The kind of fucking where most of the words are profanities and time doesn’t exist. The kind of fucking where I come twice and he’s still driving himself into me.
Good God, he’s so big and strong.
“Molly, I’m so close.”
“I’m ready for you. Come inside me, Deacon.”
He obeys orders well, too.
Minutes later as we’re cuddling afterward, I say, “This place has great ceilings, but we could probably use some more rooms before we start having kids.”
His silence terrifies me. Am I about to find out the man of my dreams doesn’t want children? I never expected to start until I’d explored the world, but I’d never expected to find my man this early in my life, either. Now, I want it all.
“I’ve got something to tell you.”
Oh no! This is it.
I don’t know what it is but it’s going to devastate me. I brace myself for the worst.
“I’ve…I’m already…my…our house will be finished in a few months.”
I straddle him. “Deacon, don’t you dare ever scare me like that again.”
“I just thought you’d be mad because of how much you talk about moving away.”
I cup his face with both of my hands and lean down for a kiss. “That was before I met you. I still want to travel, but that’s what vacations are for. Tell me about our house. How many kids is it big enough for?”
“Four. Unless some of them want to share a room.”
“Just how big is this house? How can you afford that?”
“I played pro football for several years before I decided I needed to do something more important with my life. Then I joined the Army. It’s hard to spend money while assigned overseas.”
I can’t process all that information at once.
He’s rich?
We have a house?
He wants to have children?
And he’s mine?
“You’re incredible. I love you.”
“I’ll never be as amazing as you, Molly. Let’s get dressed. I can drive you to the house so you can check it out before we go have lunch with Max.”
Epilogue
Deacon - Three years later
I wink at Molly and our two-year-old twins in the bleachers. One boy and one girl. A handful for either of us alone to wrangle on the best of days. Fortunately, my mom is sitting with them. She knows some kind of magic tricks that only seem to work when she does them. She likes to loudly tell people she learned it all while keeping Max and me under control during sleepovers when we were kids.
Molly points to the field, but I shake my head. I’m too nervous to watch.
She taps her watch, reminding me to live in the moment and points at the field.
She’s right. Our team is playing for the state championship. We are two seconds from winning the game, but the other team is on the two-yard line. All we need is one more stop from the defense.
The unit has made incredible improvements over the season, but I worry we’re going to fall one play short. If only I’d had time for one more drill or one more weight lifting session or…
I sigh. I did all I can do.
Win or lose, I’m going to be proud as hell of what my guys accomplished this year.
The quarterback on the other team fakes a handoff.
My guys are ready for it. Everybody maintains their position. The defensive line breaks into the backfield, sending the quarterback scrambling. As they close on him, he panics and lobs a throw into the end zone, right into the arms of the backup sophomore linebacker who is filling in for starter who got injured in the first half.
Max sprints up the sideline to chest bump me, nearly knocking us both to the ground.
“We finally brought the championship to our school!” I shout above the noise of the crowd.
“About damn time!”
Any more words are cut short when the team dumps Gatorade over our heads.
Everyone wants my attention, but I push my way through the crowd to where Molly is waiting on the sideline.
After giving me a kiss, she hands me Ricky and Jessica. “They have an important question for you.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“Go get ice cream now?” Jessica asks.
“Yeah, ice cream!” Ricky shouts, squirming so much I nearly drop them both.
“I don’t suppose your mom put you up to this, did she?”
“Ice cream! Ice cream!” they continue shouting.
Molly, my mom, and eventually even I join in with the chant.
I hand the kids to my mom and hug Molly. “Give me an hour to wrap up things here. God, my life can’t possibly get any better than this. ”
“Oh really?” she asks, rubbing her belly in the way I grew accustomed to seeing while she was pregnant with the twins.
“Are you kidding me?”
“Life can always get better, Deacon.”
“Three scoops for everyone,” I tell my family.
Molly - Five years later
“How do you spell mother’s?” Carla asks from the dining room floor.
She’s got three crayons in her tiny hand and two pieces of paper in front of her.
“I’ve got this,” Deacon says.
He scoops up our daughter and blows a raspberry on her belly. The two of them giggle until they reach the table in the living room.
Very gently, he tells Carla, “I told you to come to me with questions about the Mother’s Day present. And she’ll help you next month with Father’s Day.”
Carla asks her favorite question. “Why?”
“Oh no. We’re not going down that route again. The first letter is em.”
I turn up the radio in the kitchen and dance while waiting for the spaghetti noodles to finish boiling.
“Dinner almost ready?” Ricky screams from the back yard.
I hold up my hand where he can see it and spread my fingers wide to tell him five minutes. He nods an acknowledgment and starts putting away his collection of balls and bats and clubs and whatever other sports equipment he’s managed to find in the garage.
Jessica barges through the front door. “Patty wants to eat here. She says your spaghetti is better than the lasagna her moms’ are making.”
“It would be fine if just Mama Nicky was cooking,” Patty says, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. “But things always taste wrong when Mama Kat helps. She’s jinxed or something.”
I cover a laugh with my fist and pretend to cough. “It’s fine with me. Call and get their permission first, though.”
“Crap,” Patty says, heading back to the door. “Mama Nicky will never let me skip a meal if Kat’s cooking. I’ll come back over to watch that movie after I eat, Jessie.”
Jessica sits at the table.
I snap my fingers and point to the bathroom.
“Why? We didn’t even touch any worms today.”
I snap my fingers again.
She rolls her eyes—she does it a thousand times a day now—but she goes without further argument.
A few minutes later, my family surrounds the table. They wait patiently while I say grace, and then lunge at the food as soon as I reach, “Amen.”
“Deacon! You’re supposed to be a role model.”
He finishes slurping a noodle into his mouth. “Sorry. Your sauce is just so damn…” he glances at the kids, “I mean, so darn good.”
I refuse to tell them how many vegetables I’ve managed to hide in the sauce. What he doesn’t know will help him stay healthy.
Once everyone’s plate is ready, Deacon points at me. “You first today. Tell me the best thing that’s happened to you.”
“Ever? This one time, I dared to meet this big scary looking man at an old, smelly pickup truck.”
He leans over to kiss me. “That was a pretty great day. But somehow, you still keep making each one better.”
Visit Amazon to read Nixie Taylor’s Curves on a Cruise today to read the first book in the Flings to Rings series of Instalove vacation romances.
Also, check out Sara Hazel’s new series Mountain Man in the City by reading the first book, Rebel.
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Sara Hazel writes stories of curvy women who learn they can have it all — adventure, career, and love. There is always a hot Alpha Man who sees the brilliance in the heroine’s smile and wants to make her his wife. He can even be a little obsessive about it! Every story has a HAPPY EVER AFTER (HEA) and there’s absolutely NO CHEATING!
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