by J. S. Scott
Sam let out a whoop and grabbed her around the waist. Her feet left the ground as he twirled her in circle before gently dropping her back to her feet again. “I can’t believe it. Are you sure?” he asked, his voice vibrating with emotion.
Laughing softly, she answered, “Sam…I’m a doctor. When I missed my period, I tried not to get my hopes up. I’m irregular. But I took three different tests, and they were all positive. So yeah, I’m pretty sure.”
Sam speared a hand into her hair and lowered his head, resting his forehead against hers, “Are you happy?” he asked her nervously.
“You know I am. Sometimes I feel like this is all a dream. You. Us. A baby. I’m so happy it’s almost frightening,” she answered honestly.
“It’s no dream, sweetheart,” Sam said, stroking her hair lovingly, his hand trembling slightly. “Oh Christ!”
“What?” Maddie jerked her head back to look at his face. He was obviously upset. “What is it, Sam? You’re scaring me.”
“We had sex, Maddie. Rough, crazy sex. Over and over in the last few days. The baby—”
“It won’t hurt the baby, Sam. Sex is perfectly fine,” she answered with a soft laugh.
“I shouldn’t have been so rough. God, if I’d known you were pregnant—”
“If you would have known, we still would have had the same out-of-this-world sex. Sam…our baby will be fine. Trust me,” she replied, unable to wait a moment longer to kiss him. Jerking his lips to hers, she buried her hands in his hair and savored the taste of him, nipping softly at his bottom lip before soothing it with her tongue.
Sam’s control lasted about a second before he grasped the back of her head and slid his other arm completely around her waist, bringing her tightly against him as he ravished her mouth with his tongue, hot and hungry, just the way she liked it.
After he’d kissed her senseless, he groaned, pulling his mouth from hers and rested his forehead against her shoulder. “I hope it’s a girl. She’ll be a beautiful miracle just like her mother.”
“I honestly don’t care. I just want your baby. Our baby.” Maddie sighed, her whole body tingling from his kiss and begging for Sam’s possession. She pressed her body closer, rubbing against him sensually.
“Maddie, stop. You know I can’t control myself when you do that,” Sam told her sternly, but his voice was filled with longing.
“I’m hoping you won’t,” she told him sensually, sliding a hand down his chest and tracing the hard lines of his cock with her fingertips.
“If you don’t quit, I’ll have you naked and on your back in ten seconds,” Sam warned her, but his voice was almost hopeful now.
Her fingers continued to torment him, persistent, her touch becoming firmer as she smiled up at him. She started counting out loud:
“One.”
“Are you sure it’s okay,” Sam asked, his desperate eyes meeting hers, his desire and concern appearing to be in conflict.
“Yes. Positive. I would never do anything to harm our child.”
“Fuck. That feels so good, Sunshine.”
“Two.”
“Three.”
Her shirt hit the floor.
“Four.”
Her bra hit the ground.
“Five.”
“Six.”
“Seven.”
The shorts she was wearing and her panties fell to her feet at the same time.
Sam picked her up with growl, “Fuck it. I trust you, Sunshine.”
They never made it to the bedroom and Maddie never made it to the count of ten. Sam had her on her back and moaning in record time, right there in the kitchen.
Dinner burned.
They happily ordered out a few hours later.
~.~
HELEN’S SECRET ADMIRER
Helen’s Secret Admirer
“Who do you want it to be?” asked Helen’s daughter-in-law and friend, Kara Hudson, as they sat drinking coffee in one of the booths at Helen’s restaurant. Maddie Hudson, Helen’s other daughter-in-law, sat next to Kara wearing the same curious expression.
Today was the big day, the day that her secret admirer finally revealed himself. Helen had been waiting for a long time to find out who had been sending her mysterious deliveries of flowers, candy, and other whimsical gifts, all with romantic little notes that sent her heart fluttering with delight. Never having had a true romance in her entire life, it was exciting. But she really couldn’t think of any man in particular she wanted it to be. Well…she could, but it wasn’t realistic. It was a secret she kept close to her chest, and had never revealed to a single soul.
I’m fifty-six years old. I’m about to become a grandmother twice over, and I’m acting like a teenager. I have no business fretting over a secret admirer at my age. Like any man is that crazy about me? More than likely, they want to get closer to my billionaire sons.
Helen sighed softly before answering. “I don’t know. It could be anyone.” She met single men her age or older every day, but most of them were just acquaintances, men she socialized with when she attended charity functions or who she chatted with here at her restaurant. Most of them were charming, a characteristic that she’d found came pretty naturally to the majority of wealthy men.
“But you must have some clue. Or someone you really hope it turns out to be,” Maddie said excitedly, her hazel eyes dancing with enthusiasm.
Helen looked across the table at Simon and Sam’s wives, two women who had become more like daughters than “in-laws” to her as she answered, “Maybe the mystery was better than the actual truth will be,” she admitted, knowing that she’d been flattered from the very beginning because of the romantic attention. She’d never had that kind of admiration before, and it was heady, even at her age. Sam and Simon’s father had been pure evil, a man who had forced himself on her when she’d been eighteen and naïve. She’d ended up pregnant and married to the devil, trying her best to raise her boys to grow up be different men—better men—than their father. And had they ever! Her sons had far exceeded even her wildest expectations, in both ambition and heart. Thank God!
A woman couldn’t ask for two better sons, and the two women sitting across from her had completed both her sons with their love, made them happy. What more could she want than that? She finally even had grandbabies on the way. Her boys were happy, settled, and her life should be complete, and yet…
“You have a right to find your own happiness, Helen. You’ve lived for your boys all of your adult life,” Kara told Helen softly, reaching out to squeeze the older woman’s hand. “You’re still young and beautiful. And you have enough energy to wear Maddie and I both out just by watching you.”
Helen squeezed Kara’s hand. “You’re both pregnant. I can’t say it would be difficult to outrun you right now,” she answered with a smile at both younger women, Kara’s huge belly hidden underneath the table. Maddie wasn’t showing yet, but she was experiencing symptoms of early pregnancy, including fatigue.
“You wear us out when we aren’t pregnant,” Maddie replied adamantly. “We just want you to get your chance to be happy.”
“I am happy,” Helen answered defensively. How could she not be happy? Her sons had made sure she wouldn’t want for anything. They hadn’t been pleased when she’d wanted to work for a living by owning her own restaurant, but they’d given her what she wanted. Honestly, much more than she even wanted. She made a very good living with her restaurant, but her boys always thought more was better. So they never stopped giving.
“I think it’s Michael,” Kara said, a dreamy look in her eyes. “He’s been coming around for years. He’s always had a thing for you.”
Helen blushed and pulled her hand away from Kara’s, raising her coffee cup to her face to hide her flushed complexion. The problem was, she did wish it was Michael, but it wasn’t possible. “He’s eight years younger than I am, handsome and very eligible. He just comes around for advice on raising his girls. We’re just friends,” Helen said abruptly, h
er red face hidden behind her mug, taking another slug of coffee, her hand trembling slightly.
Kara shot Helen an annoyed look. “He’s sweet on you. He always has been. And his daughters are grown up and married now. What does it matter if he’s a little younger? He doesn’t look younger than you. Tell me he still doesn’t come in at least twice a week.”
Helen squirmed in her chair, knowing she couldn’t actually look at Kara and tell her that. Kara had been a waitress in this restaurant for a long time. She knew Michael was a regular and probably still was. “He likes the food. He doesn’t like to cook,” Helen replied, wanting desperately to change the subject.
“Helen, do you want it to be Michael?” Kara asked softly, both her and Maddie leaning forward to hear her answer. “He’s wanted to be more than a friend for a long time.”
“He doesn’t,” Helen protested, wishing it were true, but knowing it wasn’t. Michael had never given her any indication that he saw her as anything more than a friend, and he was much too young. And handsome. And virile.
“Oh, I don’t think he’s ever been drawn here by just the food,” Kara answered mysteriously. “Do you know that whenever he came by and you weren’t here, he’d leave without eating?”
“Hmm…doesn’t sound like a guy who just comes by for food,” Maddie agreed, crossing her arms in front of her with a smile.
“Nope. And I don’t think he’s here for the food today either,” Kara remarked drily as she scooted carefully to the edge of the booth. “I think it’s time to get your sons home and out of here. They’ve already eaten all the food from at least one side of the menu.”
Helen had her back to the door, but she knew Simon and Sam were seated in another booth close to the door, both of them waiting for her secret admirer to show. “Take them. It isn’t like I need a babysitter. I’m their mother. I’m in a public place. My place. And I don’t want Simon and Sam to make a scene.”
Helen knew exactly why Sam, Simon, Kara and Maddie were here. They all wanted to see her anonymous male admirer. Actually, she had no doubt that her protective sons wanted to do more than gawk at him.
What if it is Michael?
“It’s not Michael,” Helen said, mostly to reassure herself, keep herself from hoping. Michael Prescott would never think of her that way. He wasn’t a billionaire like her sons were, but he had a very successful law practice and made a very nice living. He’d lost his wife when his two daughters were little more than babies and raised them himself, doing a very fine job with them.
Kara winked at her. “Keep telling yourself that and you might start believing it until he comes over here.”
Kara stood awkwardly and Maddie hopped out beside her. Helen peered up at the two girls, her arms crossed in front of her. “Are you trying to say he’s here?” Okay…that was a little disconcerting, but a complete coincidence. “He just came to eat.”
“Uh huh,” Kara answered in a disbelieving voice. “And I supposed he brought that beautiful bouquet of red roses just to get your opinion on gardening?” Kara said facetiously, her brow cocked, and a questioning look on her face as she looked down at Helen in disbelief.
“He has flowers?” Helen asked anxiously, afraid to turn around and look, her heartbeat racing faster.
Michael is here. It could be Michael.
“Admit it,” Kara said insistently. “You always wanted it to be Michael. You care as much about him as he always has for you.”
Shocked, Helen stuttered, “I can’t. He can’t. We…we…aren’t like that.”
“Admit it and we’ll go stop your sons from killing him,” Maddie said with a laugh.
Helen sighed anxiously. “Yes. I admit it. But he’s so caring, so handsome, so… young. I can’t pursue anything but a friendship with him.”
“He’s exactly right for you. He always has been. Don’t scare him off, Helen. Michael’s exactly what you need and you deserve a nice guy like him. And you’re the one he’s always wanted. Please,” Kara asked in a concerned voice. “Tell me you’ll give him a chance so I can go keep Simon from killing him.”
Helen gasped and turned, seeing both of her sons rising to their feet, scowling at Michael.
Michael.
There hadn’t been a time when her heart hadn’t melted every time she saw his handsome face or wicked smile, and it was no different today.
She exited the booth, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles from her pastel skirt and top, and hurried over to where her sons had just finished eating their way through the menu, Kara and Maddie on her heels. “Take your wives home. They’re both tired,” Helen told her sons sternly, glaring up at one and then the other.
Her sons frowned at her and looked at their wives, who were both grinning from ear to ear. “We will. We just want to have a quick discussion with this guy,” Sam said gruffly.
“You are going home. Now. Don’t argue with me, Samuel. Take your brother and your wives home. Michael is a friend and I don’t want you harassing him.” She loved her sons, appreciated their protectiveness, but enough was enough. She was still their mother. Always would be.
Kara and Maddie claimed their husbands and started pulling Sam and Simon toward the door, both of her sons grumbling as they went and shooting warning looks at Michael as they exited.
Exasperated by the whole scene, Helen looked around the restaurant, glad that there were only a few customers who were looking at them curiously. “Come to my office,” she told Michael briskly, walking toward the back of the restaurant. He followed closely behind her. Not only could she smell his masculine scent, but she could feel his presence. She’d always been acutely aware of him whenever he was in the restaurant, and today it was even worse.
Could the man who had been sending her such ardent and romantic notes with his gifts truly be Michael? It didn’t seem possible, but her gut said it was, and her instinct was rarely wrong.
Why? Why would he do it?
She let him enter her office before closing the door behind her, and slumped against the door, looking up at a grinning, masculine face that nearly made her melt into a puddle at his feet. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly, embarrassed by Sam and Simon’s behavior, her face still rosy pink with mortification.
Michael Prescott was beyond handsome, his dark hair cut neatly and showing just a touch of gray at his temples. He was tall and fit, dressed neatly in casual slacks and a polo shirt that stretched across a broad chest. “No need to be sorry. You’re their mother. Single and alone. They should be protective. I was more than ready to answer all of their questions. They wanted to know if I was worthy of you. Honestly, I’m not. But I want to be,” he said in a husky baritone that vibrated through her body, causing her to shiver.
Straightening, Helen walked to her desk, her face aflame. “So you really are my secret admirer,” she asked, astonished, sitting on desk, letting her sandaled feet dangle as she stared at him.
“Not so secret anymore. And I’ve always admired you,” he replied, walking to her and handing her the huge bouquet of red roses in his hand.
“But we’re friends,” she said desperately, his masculine scent starting to surround her as he moved closer.
“I’ve always wanted to be more than friends with you, Helen. But your sons are way out of my league. You’re way out of my league. Problem is, I don’t care anymore. I don’t want to have to search you out, hoping to find you here. I want you to be mine, in my home, close to me. I want to come home to you every night and wake up to you every morning.” He put his palms flat on each side of her body on the desk, trapping her. “I want you, and I can’t wait any longer to have you. Tell me you’ll give us a chance.”
Oh, God. It was him. It always has been him. Michael Prescott was indeed her secret admirer, and the one man she had actually wanted it to be. Never had she had any real hope that her mystery man would turn out to be Michael…but a woman could dream. “I’m older. You’re younger. We can’t possibly—“
“We can,” Michael ru
mbled. “The only thing stopping us is ourselves. I figured that out a while ago. I’ve spent years trying to get close to you. Please don’t shut me out now.”
Helen glanced up into his emerald green eyes, her heart racing as she became intoxicated by his masculinity and male scent. Michael had always been her friend, his lips readily smiling, his voice reassuring. But he wasn’t looking at her like he was her friend now. In fact, he looked downright dangerous, but in a sexy way that was nearly irresistible.
“Why the mystery?” she asked curiously, looking up a very dear, familiar face that she’d come to count on seeing often, the face of a man she knew she’d been in love with for years. “Why didn’t you just say something?”
“Maybe I was afraid you didn’t feel the same way. Maybe I’m still afraid you don’t. But I had to do something to get your attention, get you to at least think about the possibility of getting romantically involved with a man. I hope you’re not disappointed,” he said hoarsely, his eyes boring into hers with an intensity that Helen had never seen before.
He looked so vulnerable at that moment that she blurted out the truth. “I wanted it to be you. You’re the only one I was hoping it would turn out to be. But I didn’t think you felt the same way.”
Michael’s lips turned up into a delighted grin. “How could you not know? I thought I was pretty transparent. I’ve never been able to go less than a day or two without seeing you.”
Helen sighed. “You’re young. Probably too young for me.”
“You’re beautiful and have the energy of a woman half your age. Try again,” he said in a low, sexy baritone. “Tell me you don’t feel the same way I do. It’s the only way you’re getting rid of me. I’ve been telling myself you’re too good for me for years, but excuses don’t make the ache go away, Helen.”
“You’re the best man I’ve ever known,” she replied, jumping to his defense. Michael Prescott would be a man any woman would want to date. But he chose her, had apparently chosen her a long time ago.
