by Zoe Dawson
A Perfect Wedding
A Hope Parish Novella
By Zoe Dawson
Published by Blue Moon Creative, LLC
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright by Karen Alarie. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your preferred vendor and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Author Note
I make every effort to research thoroughly all subject matter, but I’m not infallible. If you find anything in my novels that I have incorrect, please feel free to let me know.
ISBN: 978-0-9909075-6-5
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Cover Design by Zoe Dawson
Acknowledgments
I'd like to thank beta readers Sue Stewart and Leisha O’Quinn. Thank you, also, to Faith Freewoman for her excellent advice and editing skills and Jessica Allain for her skillful photoshop abilities.
Dedication
To Braxton Outlaw who knows a thing or two.
Chapter One
Booker
“Hello.”
“Book.”
“Boone. Do you know what time it is?” My voice was rusty from disuse and exhaustion.
“Yeah, and if you weren’t setting off my tripdar, I’d be asleep instead of on the phone.”
“I’m not—”
“Huckleberry…you are. Has to be you. Brax is drunk with happiness, Ma beams every time I see her. My kid is drooling and giggling all the time, and Verity…. Well, let’s just say she has no complaints. So it has to be you. Because I usually can’t sleep when it’s you. When it’s Brax, I lose my appetite. Go figure. Now, what the hell is up? Is Breebree okay?”
I didn’t know what to tell my brother. Aubree had been so caught up in everything she thought she needed to do, I scarcely saw her. It was just one month till our wedding, and I’d never seen her that stressed before. I ached with the need to do something to help her, but decided staying out of her way would be easiest on her.
Work was important. Of course it was. I had been getting stuff done right and left, even had a blast signing at a conference in downtown New Orleans the previous week.
Which Aubree had to miss because of school and her volunteer job. She’d been upset, visibly upset, and tired enough to just drop her head in her hand and give me the opportunity to hold her through it. I chafed at her constant and overwhelming commitments, but didn’t feel free to complain, because she was working her tail off for the common good. How could I argue with that?
She told me often this was the way it was going to be. That we had to suck it up and power forward. Before the phone rang, I was lying here at four in the morning trying to figure out how I was going to manage it for our married life. We’d been living in New Orleans going on eight months, and I’d spent most of that time getting only bits and pieces of my gorgeous redhead.
It didn’t help that I’d spent most of yesterday calling Aubree several times and texting her with no response. And then worrying about her silence. She was probably caught up in studying, but I couldn’t be sure, and as the night wore on, I got angry about it.
But it was an impotent sort of anger. Because I needed to be understanding. She was under a lot of pressure…with the wedding, her studies—her honking big stressor was organic chemistry—and her volunteer work. I spent more time worrying about Aubree than thinking about anything else. She pushed herself too hard, and I was stressed about her, about our relationship, and about our future.
And, dammit, I needed…something. Some concession, some options.
“Your Breebree is stressed out, but she isn’t here right now and hasn’t responded to my calls or texts all day, so I’m a little worried. She’s most likely studying.”
There was complete silence on the other line, then Boone sighed, “Booker, I know you love that girl, but you need to be honest with yourself and with her.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I know you. When times get tough and you get stressed, you tend to deny your feelings.”
“Really, Boone? How are you this articulate so early in the morning?”
“I don’t want to tell you.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want to rub it in your face.”
“Rub what?”
“I’m so incredibly happy…I…I sometimes pinch myself to make sure it’s real. Since River cleared our name, it’s still not perfect, but I feel and see a difference. Ever since Brax found out about Daddy, it’s been better. Sad, though. Ma is more than willing to talk about it, and I find that I want to listen now. She’s doing great, by the way and Mr. Sut…Win is good for her. Why don’t you come home for a bit? We’ll get drunk and leave Brax in the bayou. That’ll be good for a laugh.”
“You’ve got to come up with something better than that.”
“Oh, didn’t I mention he would be naked and in a tree?”
I chuckled in spite of myself.
Boone snickered softly and I heard a door close. “That would definitely be worth a laugh.”
“I don’t know.”
“We’ll pump iron, eat junk food, play video games, and do other manly things.”
I laughed again. “Isn’t that counterproductive? Eating junk and pumping iron? Don’t they cancel each other out?”
“Geez, you’re making me pull out the big guns. Okay, here it is. I’ve got juicy gossip and red Gummy Bears, too.”
“I admit defeat.”
“Sweet! I’ll see you when you get here. Now I’m going to see if my wife is awake.”
“You mean you’re going to wake her up.”
“She can’t resist me, even this early.” Boone chuckled and hung up.
And a surge of jealousy shredded me. I couldn’t remember the last time I had jumped Aubree’s bones, or she’d jumped mine. Hell, even touched, cuddled—anything. I was bored as hell, and ordinary wasn’t why I’d chosen to be with Aubree.
The longer I lay there stewing the worse my frustration got. Even a nice guy like me had a breaking point.
I heard the key in the lock, and in spite of my impotent anger and my unmet needs, I was relieved. She was all right, and the love I had bottled up also surged to the surface. We so needed to have some fun together…even if it was just an evening of movies and popcorn—and bones-jumping, of course. It would help a lot.
I couldn’t go on like this, especially not since it would be years before she became the doctor of a small sleepy town and finally had time for me. Or would she have time for me even then?
When the door closed and I heard her making a concerted effort to stay quiet, I said. “I’m awake.” Damn, I loved that about her. She was so considerate.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?” She sounded tired, and I got a pang in my chest. Too much working too hard and not having enough leisure time. Time to be with me and unwind.
“I’ve been awake,” I said, sitting up in bed, the sheet dropping away from my bare chest. I draped m
y arms over my knees. And that is your fault, my beautiful.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Her sleepy eyes went over me, slowly and I had to take a breath. Those were definitely bones-jumping vibes I was getting. But, she looked so freaking tired. Who was I kidding? I wanted to jump her bones anyway, tired or not.
“No. Too many ideas running around in my monkey brain.” I was getting hard from the way she was looking at me. “Hey, I was thinking maybe you and I could plan to have dinner tonight.”
“Tonight?” Her voice was so eager, it warmed me all the way to my toes. She reached into her Einstein tote and dug out her phone. She turned it on and stared at it.
Her green eyes popped up to mine, and she made a face that told me she was upset all over again. “Ohmigod. I missed three calls and five texts! Shoot, babe. I’m sorry. I turned off my phone when I was meeting with my o-chem professor, and I forgot to turn it back on. I hope you weren’t worried…wait…oh damn…is that why you’re awake?”
“Partly,” I said.
She sighed. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks. The end of the semester sucks.”
“It definitely does,” I said. “Ah, so, tonight…dinner?”
“Right,” she gave me a depreciating smile. “What would I do without you?” She tapped her phone repeatedly, then her shoulders slumped. She dropped her head back and said, low and fierce. “Oh, fuuuccckkkk no!” she shouted.
I sat up straighter. Aubree never said that word. Well almost never. “Sugar, babe…”
“I have a sorority meeting tonight, which has already been rescheduled three times…ah…because of me. So I can’t tonight. Why didn’t you tie me down when I mused over the fact there were too few sororities for pre-med students and none on Tulane’s campus?”
“Because my sassy redhead has a mind of her own and I’m a little scared of you.”
She laughed. “No you’re not, even if I’ve been, in the past, labelled as a ballbuster.”
“That was not me.”
“I have three suspects, all their names begin with a B, and, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, they’re all Outlaws.”
“I will not be a snitch, and you can’t break me.”
“Oh, is that so? I can break you, Booker Thomas Outlaw, and don’t you forget it.”
I laughed, knowing that she could and very easily. “You got no proof, lady.”
She gave me a look and I raised my brows and we both laughed.
“Okay, tomorrow night?”
“No, got another intense study group session. O-chem is killing me. I wish you were a chemistry master instead of a word master.”
“Oh, babe,” I said, catching my bottom lip in my mouth, leaning back and letting her see how the sheet tented my erection. “I am a chemistry master.”
Her lips parted and her eyes riveted to what I like to call an impressive man moment. When a woman looks at your dick like that, yeah, punch-in-the-gut sexy. She took a soft breath, and my blood surged.
“Geezus,” I said, “What does it take to get some time with you? A time machine? A gadget that slows time?” Humor was always my fallback, but I was dying here. The pressures of her schedule suffocated me. I hid my disappointment behind my comedy.
“How about that impressive time-altering, time shattering gadget you got going there?”
I acted nonchalant as I pushed off the covers, my hard dick popping free, swung my feet to the floor and strode to my dresser. Pulling a drawer open, I grabbed a jock, a pair of socks and my running shorts, fighting a grin. “I’m going to take my nifty gadget running with me. Apparently you are much too busy for me.” I turned and gave her a serious look and sighed. “I’m sure you have a full day and need to get some sleep.” Guilt flooded her eyes and tugged at my heart. God, I wanted her, but she did need to sleep. She had class in three hours. Slipping on the jock, I reached for my shorts, but she grabbed my wrist.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” she said. “That, gadget isn’t going anywhere, and, since it’s attached to you, neither are you.”
I turned to face her, huffing a laugh. “Really?” I said, snatching up my shorts and pulling away from her. “I’m not sure I want to let an ‘alleged’ ballbuster anywhere near my junk.”
I nudged my drawer closed and opened another one, grabbing a T-shirt. I brushed past her, but she pressed her hand to my back and I stopped.
“Booker,” she said softly. “Sleep is overrated. When I become a doctor, I’m going to publish an article about it. But right now, since I’m still working on that…maybe you can help me with some research.”
Ah, fuck. It didn’t matter how mad I got, or how charged the situation, or how much I missed her. That girl still got to me.
She curled her arm around my waist, and I took a breath when she pressed her body against my back.
Her fingers trailed across my abs and I sucked in an involuntary breath. “You know I can’t resist you in a jock. You and your gadget look so…sexy and it’s been too…long.” She breathed in deep as if she was trying to take me into her body.
She teased me some more, but I didn’t want to think with my dick. Sleep wasn’t overrated. It was essential. Maybe a run would let me release some of the pressure in my chest and keep my brothers’ tripdar from going off.
Then she delved beneath the waistband and ran her hand over the length of me. I groaned and turned, dislodging her hand, panting.
Two things I wasn’t going to do. Kiss her or put my hands on her. She needed to…my brain kinda froze…ah…to…sleep.
“Booker,” she said. Her face was turned up toward mine, her hand going back to the waistband of my jock. She looked down and sighed. “Sometimes I forget how beautiful you are.”
“Aubree…I…” I began, but she leaned forward and kissed my chest. The T-shirt fell out of my hand. Then she ran her tongue over the curve of muscle just below my nipple, at the same time she pushed back into my jock and wrapped her hand around me, moving it gently up and down while her thumb circled the tip. I only realized I was clutching her head when the softness of her hair slipped through my fingers.
She moved lower and bit me on my ribs, and a soft sound burst out of me as tingles glided all the way down to the base of my spine and my dick.
I gave up and simply lifted her face to mine and kissed her. There was nothing to say, not right now, not when all I wanted, all I needed was to touch her, to slide my tongue into her mouth and taste her, to fill myself up with her.
Our lips met, hers parted, and a hundred emotions flooded through me. I expected pleasure, electrifying pleasure—but I also experienced relief, bone deep.
This was home. Being with Aubree, our bodies touching. She came up on tiptoe, her mouth on mine, her arms going around my neck, and I slid my hand down her back.
Then further.
Two good intentions clobbered in under thirty seconds. I was kissing her and had my hand on her ass—and it was incredible.
This was going to get crazy, fast. Real fast. I could tell. The kiss had gone from “home sweet home” to hot and deep instantly. I tried not to stick my tongue halfway down her throat, tried not to devour her, but she was already there, and I was drowning in the love I felt—on the edge of desperation, reveling in the heat of her skin, in the all-consuming soft wetness of her mouth.
I pulled away and took a couple of quick breaths. “Are you sure about sleeping…”
“To hell with sleep. I want you, Booker, now. And, afterwards, we’re going to breakfast at Café Du Monde so I can work on my love handles with many beignets.”
“Why don’t you get into bed?” I said, “And I’ll close the curtains and light the candles.
She pulled her shirt over her head and was unzipping her skirt while I headed toward the window, since I’d forgotten to close the curtains last night while distracted with worry. My dick straining against the jock, I closed the curtains, accompanied by the rustle of sheets. I lit the candles and double-checked to be sure they weren’t too clos
e to the fabric.
As it turned out, we didn’t make it to Café Du Monde, but after she fell asleep, I realized that I needed some time to think about what was gnawing at me. My brothers would say I overthought everything, but I was struggling with this…something…that was bothering me. It had to be dealt with. Boone might have the right idea. Maybe distance, being completely away from her would do it.
I went to Café Du Monde and got her some beignets and set them beside the bed. I gently pulled up the blanket over her shoulder, made sure the alarm was set so she would have time to get to class. I set my bag on the bed and packed my stuff while I watched her sleep. Before I left, I kissed her softly on her slack mouth, my heart heavy.
#
Aubree
I jerked awake as the alarm shrieked in my ears. Bolting up in bed, still feeling like I was dealing with a party bash hangover, I cleared my eyes and saw the beignets beside the bed. Dammit, the surge of regret was only eclipsed by the wash of tenderness snaking through me when I realized I had fallen asleep and hadn’t been able to talk to Booker over breakfast. He was so good to me and I…was totally neglecting him. Hated it, but it was our reality.
I could tell from the quiet that Booker wasn’t here. He was probably out running. I sighed, thinking about how good it had felt to touch him, make love to him, hold him. God, I missed him. I was counting the days to the end of the semester.
I got out of bed, working on punching my brain into working order. I was so groggy, had been so out of it.
When I saw the time, I grumbled. I had to be in class in an hour. I dropped my face into my hands and swallowed back tears and regrets. Bam! The emotion hit me like a ton of bricks. My ability to cope was at an all-time low, and I wanted to deal with all this stuff that was piling up, but was totally overwhelmed.
