I'm In It (The Reed Brothers Book 18)

by Tammy Falkner

  “We could. If you want to.” She gives me a side eye.

  A grin tugs at the corners of my lips. “Or we could wait…to talk.”

  Her grin grows huge. “We could. If you want to.”

  “The last time didn’t last very long,” I admit. No man wants to be quick in the sack, but I felt like I’d been waiting for her my whole life.

  “We could go a little slower the next time.” She swings our clasped hands between us. “You know. To see what it’s like.” Suddenly she gasps, stops walking, and stares up at me. “What if it’s terrible?” Her eyes twinkle with merriment.

  “Not possible,” I say quickly.

  “But what if it is? What if it’s awkward?”

  “You mean more awkward than this conversation?”

  “There are a lot of things more awkward than this conversation.” She rolls her eyes. We stand outside of her apartment building. As we walk inside, Marcus looks toward the sofa in the seating area. His eyes dart back and forth. I see someone stand up from the sofa.

  “Wren,” he says as he stands up and jams his hands in his pockets.

  “Shane,” she says. This time, instead of pushing me away, she slides beneath my arm and wraps her arm around my waist. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was hoping we could talk.”

  “About what?” she asks, her voice innocent, but she’s stiff as a board pressed against me.

  “I saw the tabloids, and I thought…I thought maybe we should talk.”

  “About what?” she asks again. She holds the back of my shirt tightly in her fist.

  “Can we talk alone?” he asks. His eyes jump from me to her and back.

  She looks up at me. “What do you think?”

  I think, fuck no, he can’t talk to my girlfriend. “Do you want to talk to him?” I ask her.

  She shrugs. “I don’t really see a reason to. Do you?”

  I kiss her forehead, a warmth spreading through me that I didn’t expect.

  She turns back to Shane. “This is my boyfriend, Mick. Mick, this is Shane.”

  I extend my hand, even though it’s the last thing I want to do.

  “I made a mistake,” Shane suddenly blurts out.

  She clutches my shirt even tighter. “What do you mean?”

  “Kathy. She was a mistake.”

  “Then you should set her free,” Wren rushes to say. “Does she know you’re here?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Set her free, Shane.” She heaves a sigh. “She deserves better than this.”

  I agree. Even if she did cheat with Wren’s boyfriend, the mystery woman deserves better than this.

  “She deserves someone who loves her,” Wren says. She looks up at me. “Everyone deserves someone who can love them.”

  He snorts. “So, you think you’re in love?” he asks. “With him?”

  She shakes her head, and it startles me. “No, Shane. I know I’m in love with him. I don’t think it. I know it. And you know the best part about it? I don’t have to worry about where he’s sticking his dick when he’s not with me.” She looks up at me, a grin tugging at the corners of her lips. “Mick, when you’re not with me, do I have to worry about where you’re sticking your dick?”

  “I’m not sticking my dick anywhere.” I lean down and whisper in her ear. “Honestly, I’d be happy to stick it wherever you tell me, as long as it’s in you.”

  She laughs and presses her face against my chest. “You’re such a sweetie.”

  “Hell, if I’d known reserving my dick for you was all it would take…” I shrug and try to look innocent.

  “You’re a fucking bitch,” Shane suddenly snarls. He takes a step toward Wren, so I shove her behind me.

  “It’s okay,” Wren says, holding on to my arm.

  It’s not okay. “Say something else about her, and you’ll be picking the pavement from outside out of your teeth for the rest of the night.”

  Shane holds up his hands in supplication. “Can you at least get Emilio to put me back on the tour?” he says to Wren.

  So that’s what this is about.

  “He fired you?” Wren asks.

  “Yeah.” He clenches his fists. “He fired me.”

  She narrows her eyes at him. “What did you do?”

  “What makes you think I did anything?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Because I know you.”

  “I failed a drug test. And there was…a little incident with a roadie. But she dropped the charges.”

  Wren freezes. “How old was she?”

  “Seventeen,” he mutters. And all over again, I fucking hate him, even more than I did before.

  “Rot in hell, Shane,” she says, and then she takes my hand and gives me a tug toward the elevator. I turn back to give him a warning, but she yanks harder. “He’s not worth it.”

  She’s right, he’s not, but I really want to punch him right in the face.

  “I’ll see him out, Miss Vasquez,” Marcus says.

  “Thank you, Marcus!” she calls as the elevator doors close. She sinks back against the mirrored wall.

  “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She smiles at me. “It doesn’t do me any good to hate him. None at all. I feel kind of bad for Kathy, though.”

  “He wants you back. Can’t say I blame him.”

  “No, he wants his job back, he wants me to pay his bills, and he wants to fuck everyone with a vagina.”

  In her apartment, she goes to the fridge and takes out a bucket of ice cream. I can’t help but remember that first night. Taking a ladle from the drawer, she dips it into the ice cream and brings it to her lips. Then she gives it a slow lick.

  A slow lick that shoots straight to my dick.

  “Something wrong?” she asks with a sly grin.

  Did I groan out loud? I must have. “I’m really proud of the way you handled him.”

  “I can do anything with you by my side.”

  I reach out and take a bite off her ladle. “Ditto.”

  “I love you.”

  “Ditto.”

  “I can’t think of anything I want to do more than spend my life with you.”

  “Ditto.”

  “Is that all you can say?” She alternates between licking her spoon and talking to me.

  I take the ladle from her. “I think you should take your clothes off.”

  “Right now?” she asks, her eyebrows shooting up toward her hairline.

  “I can’t think of a better time.”

  To my surprise, she pulls her shirt over her head, toes off her shoes, and shoves her pants down right there in the kitchen. “Now you,” she says. She takes the ladle back and licks it slowly.

  Three seconds later, I’m naked in front of her, my dick standing out in front of me like it’s reaching for her. She licks her lips. Then she drops to her knees and takes me into her mouth.

  I gasp and lean so that my hands are braced against the counter, and she tongues the crown. Then she takes it deep, and I know I can’t do this for very long. “Wren,” I protest, but it’s half-hearted, because what she’s doing feels really good. “You have to stop.”

  She shakes her head, her cheeks pulled in tight as she holds my thighs with her hands, pulling me in deeper.

  “Enough,” I say. She doesn’t listen. I pull back, breaking her suction, and she rocks back on her heels.

  I pick her up quickly and set her on the kitchen counter, then I yank her panties down her legs. I want to see her tits, so I yank her bra cups below them, and suck one into my mouth. Her hand holds the back of my head, her fingers threading into my hair.

  “One of these days, we’re going to have to do this slow. Is it okay if that day is not today?” I ask against her nipple. Then I nibble and bite as she spreads her thighs and pulls me closer with her ankles.

  “Fuck me fast and hard,” she whispers right next to my ear.

  I pull her forward so her ass rests on the edge of the counter. “Do you want
me to get a condom?” I ask as I get ready to sink inside her. I wait. I’ll wait forever.

  She shakes her head. “I’m in this. If you’re in this, and we want the same things, then no.”

  “I’m in it,” I say as I sink home. Her tight walls close around me, and I know I’m close. Too close. I pull back out, amid her protests, and kiss my way down her stomach, over the bush that I love so much, and down to her slit. She spreads her legs wide to accommodate my shoulders. “I love this pussy,” I say, just as I lick up her slit and suck her clit.

  “I love your mouth,” she says. With slow licks and quick pulls, I bring her to the brink, until she’s clutching my hair and writhing against my face. “Mick,” she cries. “I think I’m going to—” Her eyes close tightly as pleasure washes over her face.

  Her walls clench tightly around my fingers as she hovers there in the space just before coming.

  “Come on,” I growl. “I want to fuck you. Come for me.”

  I tip my fingers, and suddenly she comes apart. She holds my face against her heat, and I let her ride it out with slow licks, softening as she comes down, until she’s warm and pliant instead of rigid on the counter.

  I stand up and in one thrust, I’m inside her. “I’m really sensitive right now,” she says.

  “I’ll be careful.”

  “Don’t,” she says with a grin. “Fuck me hard.”

  I step onto my tiptoes and fuck her hard and fast against the counter, her ass in my hands as she comes apart again, and only then do I follow her.

  “We didn’t use a condom,” she says with a smile as I go soft inside her. My calves are aching from standing on my tiptoes, but I want to stay inside her as long as I can. Finally, my legs and my dick go soft. I lift her from the countertop and she stands in front of me, naked aside from a bra her tits are falling out of.

  I brush her hair back from her face. “Come what may?” I say.

  She grins. “I don’t know. I might be able to come again,” she says.

  “Give me five minutes and we’ll test that theory.” I kiss her quickly and then grab the ladle. The ice cream is now soft, but I don’t care. Neither does she.

  “Has it been five minutes yet?” I ask, thirty seconds later.

  She lifts her mouth from the ladle. “I don’t know. Has it?” She grins.

  “Definitely,” I say as I carry her to the bedroom, and then I show her how good it can be when we make it last a little longer.

  She rolls over and tucks herself against me, naked and sweaty and perfect. “Will you marry me?” she asks.

  I thread my fingers through hers. “I’ll think about it.”

  She slaps my chest and makes a move like she’s about to get up. But I grab her and roll her under me, kissing her until she’s senseless.

  “I think I’m supposed to ask that question,” I say. I kiss the tip of her nose. “Not you.”

  “You want to get on with that, then?” she asks, smiling at me.

  “I need to ask your father first.” I drag my nose down the side of hers.

  “Okay,” she whispers. A tear leaks down her face and slides into her hair. I catch it with my fingertip.

  “Why the tears?”

  “I’m just so happy.”

  Me too. I never realized just how happy being happy could be.

  Wren

  Nine months later

  Marta has been sitting with me and Mick for the past hour, since active labor began. She’s been a godsend. While Mick is terrified, she is stoic. While he’s emotional, she’s clear-headed. While Mick is anxious, she’s calm.

  “Should be any time now,” the nurse says. “We’ll have you start pushing soon.” She goes to work, moving around, getting the room ready.

  “I need to tell you something, mija,” Marta says, her face close to mine as she clutches my hand.

  “What?” I ask, as she looks into my eyes.

  “If your mother were here, she would be so proud of you,” she says, and her voice cracks. “I just wanted to tell you that. If she were here, she’d be so damn happy.” She wipes her eyes.

  “My mother is here,” I say.

  “Your mother is always with you,” she says. She smiles. “I just hope I’ve done her memory justice.” She pats my hand. “I’m going to the waiting room, to keep Emilio from pacing a hole in the floor.”

  Another contraction hits, and I have a crazy urge to push. “Marta!”

  She looks back at me from the doorway. “What, mija?”

  “I need my mother,” I say, as a frustrated sob leaves me body.

  “I know, sweetheart,” she says. “I’d do just about anything if I could give her to you right now.”

  “No,” I clarify. “I need you, Marta. I need my mother. Please stay.” I need my mother to hold my hand. I need my mother to push me through this, because Mick is too worried, too excited. Too…not my mother.

  She blinks back tears. “I’ll stay.” She takes my hand again. “I’ve never tried to take her place,” she says. Her hand shakes.

  “She had her own place, and you have yours. And your place is as my mother, holding my hand, Marta.”

  Mick smiles at me. He nods. He knows. He knows Marta is my mother, and I don’t want to dishonor my birth mother’s memory, but Marta has taken over that place in my life. She’s given me everything I’ve needed since the moment she met me. And I want to give her this.

  “Stay with me,” I say again.

  “All the way through,” she says.

  “Are we ready to have a baby?” the nurse asks, as the doctor comes into the room.

  Thirty minutes later, I’m holding a bundle wrapped in pink in my arms. Marta wipes sweat from my forehead. “Let’s get you cleaned up a little. Then your sisters will want to come in.”

  Mick’s eyes meet mine. “Actually, Marta,” he says, “do you think you could send Henry back first? We’d like to talk to him.”

  “I’ll go get him.” She kisses my forehead, lingering there longer than she normally would. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispers. Then she goes and hugs Mick. “And you too,” she says.

  He hugs her back, laughing.

  When she goes out the door, he comes to sit next to me. “I didn’t think it could get any better,” he says. “But then it did.” He grins.

  The door opens and Henry steps into the room. He looks at the three of us and starts to laugh. “Marta told me to come back. I was hoping you wouldn’t expect me to catch it as it slipped into the world.”

  “Nope,” I say. “She’s all here. Clean and swaddled.”

  “Thank God for small miracles.”

  He walks over and stares down at our daughter. She has jet-black hair like Mick, and her skin is pink and wrinkly. Her eyes are shiny from the ointment they used.

  “You two make pretty babies,” Henry says.

  “Do you want to hold her?” I ask.

  “I’d like nothing more,” he says. He goes and sits in the nearby rocking chair and holds out his arms, as Mick sets her gently in his waiting grasp. “Damn, she’s something,” Henry says. “I can’t wait to tell her all about life. I got a million stories about my Nan that I can share with her.” He stares down at her. “That was a love story if there ever was one.”

  “Speaking of Nan,” Mick says.

  Henry finally looks up.

  “We were trying to come up with a name…” Mick lets the sentence trail off.

  “And we were hoping you wouldn’t mind if we name her after your wife,” I blurt out.

  He stares down at the baby, as tears fill his eyes. He doesn’t even try to wipe them away. “I think that would be just fine,” he says when he can finally collect himself. “My Nan would love that.”

  I take Mick’s hand and give it a squeeze. “Then it’s settled,” I say.

  He smiles down at me. “It’s settled.”

  “It’s settled,” Henry says, as he rocks our baby girl.

  Soon, my sisters and Emilio, along with
Mick’s parents, can’t stand it anymore and they come into the room as a group, and little Nan gets passed around from person to person, with Henry hovering like an old mother hen the whole while. The Reeds visit the next morning, and watching those big, tattooed guys fawn over a baby…that’s like nothing you’ve ever seen.

  Even Patsy comes to visit, and she brings the children with her very briefly. She’s doing really well, and she just moved back to the city a month ago. Her mother moved with her, and she lives just down the street, so Patsy has the support she needs. The kids are beautiful and well-adjusted and happy, and I couldn’t be happier for them.

  When they’re all gone, and Mick looks at me the way he does, like I hung the stars and moon, I can’t help but ask myself what I did to deserve this much good fortune. I’ll probably never know, but I certainly have been lucky.

  “She’s pretty damn fabulous, isn’t she?” Mick asks as we both stare at our daughter.

  “Yeah,” I say. “She is. She definitely is.” She’s my lemon drops, my laughter, and all my hopes and dreams. And so is Mick.

  I start to hum the bars of the song, and her eyes open wide. She stares up at me, and my heart is absolutely flooded with hope. And love. And possibilities.

  “I sure am glad you wanted to be my BFF,” Mick says softly.

  “Me, too.”

  Keep reading for a sneak peek at an upcoming book!

  “I thought what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her… until it did.”

  Chapter 1

  The buzzer on my phone went off, and I ignored it, preferring to push papers around on my desk, pretending to look busy. I had patient charts to review, medications to approve, and a plethora of patients who were waiting for me to make rounds. But first… first I had to find her. I had to at least try, although, in my heart of hearts, I knew she wouldn’t be found until she was good and ready.

  The phone buzzed again, and I hit the button, marking me busy so no one could buzz me anymore. I had too much on my mind. I knew I might even have to take a few days off so I could get my shit together.

  I checked her bank accounts. I checked her credit cards. I checked her social media profile. I checked her phone. I checked everything, and I still had no idea where she was.