by Tess Summers
“Just looking at my ring.”
“Aw, you’re so adorable. I miss the honeymoon phase.”
“That is a beautiful ring. He has good taste,” Reagan chimed in.
Quinn was noticeably silent, which was like chum in the water for the Jones sisters, who’d imbibed a few too many mimosas.
“So, Quinn. Are you ever going to come clean about what’s happening between you and John?”
The dark haired woman, who was a few years their senior, just smiled and coyly remarked, “Come clean about what?”
“Ugh! One of these days, we’ll get it out of you,” Bella threatened.
Again, the woman only smiled.
“You really need to tell us,” Reagan moaned.
Quinn’s smile fell for a moment, then she finally said quietly, “There’s really nothing to tell. He’s been a good friend to me these past few years, that’s all.”
Bella’s twisted mouth indicated she wasn’t a believer.
“We’re getting you drunk. Then you’ll spill.”
Just then, Dante and John stepped onto the patio, deep in conversation until they noticed the women. Taren curiously watched John as he immediately surveyed the group until his eyes landed on Quinn. He tried to catch her attention, which she appeared to avoid giving him.
“Hey, mamacita!” Bella said as she stood up. “We need to go into town and get your dress.”
“What? A mumu?” Taren asked with a laugh.
“No. There’s a silk dress I’ve seen in a little shop’s window that will look perfect on you.”
“Oh, I know exactly which one you’re talking about!” Reagan added as they walked toward the house, past the men.
“Are you going, too, Quinn?” John asked as he touched her arm, his tone hopeful—like maybe she was staying behind.
Taren had gotten the impression when they talked about dress shopping that she hadn’t been planning on coming with them, but changed her mind once he asked.
“I am.”
“Oh, okay,” the dark haired man said. “If you have a moment when you get back, I’d like to talk to you about some things. Maybe we could talk after dinner.”
The beautiful woman’s forced a smile. “Oh, yeah, sure. Of course.”
Taren wanted to scream at John, “You idiot!” but chose to keep her mouth shut and looped her arm through Quinn’s instead.
“Let’s go into town!” she said cheerfully and grabbed the champagne bottle still in the ice bucket on their way inside. “I have a feeling you’re going to need this,” Taren whispered to her new friend as she handed it to her.
“I think you’re right.”
They all piled into the back of the black sedan, laughing and drinking from the bottle. Taren sighed and looked down at her water bottle.
“Aw, mommy, you’ll be drinking with us again before you know it,” Reagan laughed, wrapping her arm around her shoulder. “Now let’s go find you a dress!”
****
Jacob
He had to give props to the Jones sisters. Those girls were good. He’d had his doubts when Bella said to leave it to her, but she’d pulled it off—just like she said she would.
Looking around the big table in the Guzmans’ dining room on the eve of his wedding, he sat back with his arm around Taren’s chair, and watched their families interact as a wave of contentment washed over him.
There was laughter and smiles filling the room, with Bella and Reagan interjecting their own history into stories their parents were telling and Edward occasionally adding his own experiences with his brother.
Jacob hadn’t realized how far back John and Dante’s friendship went—the two were like brothers, having attended the same boarding school and then roomed together in New England while they attended different colleges in Boston.
Dante went to work in the family business after grad school, but it didn’t take long for him to recruit John as his right hand man in the cartel. Now, they were attempting to slowly phase out of the Mexican mafia business and become legitimate. It was taking longer than Bella would have liked, Jacob knew that, but the two men’s involvement with the cartel was becoming less and less. Dante had approached him again about becoming a partner in the near future, and he was seriously considering it.
Jake wanted to phase out of the mercenary business quickly and be done by the time the baby arrived.
It almost seemed like serendipity when Edward approached him later that evening on the patio about a job for his brother, Marcus.
“Funny you should mention that. Taren and I were just talking about me finding someone to take over my business. Have him call me in a few weeks after things have calmed down.”
“Yeah, I definitely will.”
Taren sidled up next to him and murmured in his ear. “I think something is going on with Jack and Rachel.”
He looked around the pool area and at the table and chairs where the parents were and noticed Ashley coloring contently while Chase sat on Jacob’s mom’s lap. His brother, Jack, was nowhere to be found.
“What? Where are they?”
Taren gave a crooked grin. “Exactly.”
“Don’t let Bella or Reagan know. Holy shit, they’ll be relentless with their ninja matchmaking.”
“I think they’re preoccupied with getting John and Quinn together, not to mention worrying about our wedding.”
“How are we supposed to feel about Rachel and Jack hooking up?”
She shrugged. “They’re adults. It’s probably none of our business, but I did notice Rachel seemed to enjoy hanging out with Jack’s kids today, so, maybe it’s not a bad thing? We actually had just talked about the universe bringing her a family—maybe this is the universe’s response.”
“They live in two different states, Tink.”
She answered with her usual woo-woo shit. “So? Let the universe deal with that.”
He pulled her in his arms. “What does the universe think about us moving back to New Orleans?”
“I really don’t want to start a new job knowing I’m going to be going on maternity leave in less than eight months.”
“So, don’t start one.”
“I like working, Jake. It gives me purpose.”
“What if you cut your hours to two days a week? At least until the baby comes; then you can decide if you want to work or not, and we can figure out where we want to live.”
“So, does that mean you’ll stay in Houston? With me?”
“Does it have to be at your apartment?” he teased. “Can we get somewhere bigger where I can have my own office?”
She let out a dramatic sigh, trying not to grin. “I guess, if we have to, but what do you need an office for if you’re quitting? What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know yet. Maybe nothing.”
She snorted out loud, making him grin.
“What? I could do nothing. Being a dad will be my job.”
“Just in all the time I’ve known you, you’ve always been working, spending countless hours in front of that computer. I have a hard time believing you could just be idle.”
“Well, I have a few irons in the fire, should I decide I want to work. That’s the beauty of it—if I want to. I don’t need to work ever again. And neither do you.”
“I want to work.”
He shrugged. “Maybe you’ll feel differently once the baby comes. Or when your ankles are so swollen that it hurts to be on your feet.”
“You might have a point. I’ve seen pregnancy ankles in the ER—they weren’t pretty. We’ll see what happens.”
“If you’re only working a few days a week, maybe we can spend some more time in New Orleans?”
“Sure. You know I love New Orleans. Besides, I want to see your home.”
“Our home,” he corrected. “If you hate it, we can buy something else.”
“I’m sure I’ll love it.” She paused. “Unless…”
“I have never brought a woman there, if that’s what you
were going to say.”
“That’s not what I was going to say.”
That was totally what she was thinking.
He cocked his head. “No? What were you going to ask then?”
“Unless, um, it doesn’t have enough bedrooms.”
He smirked, “There’s seven, not including my office.”
“Seven! Why do you need seven bedrooms?”
“I don’t—yet. But maybe we will.”
“I’m not having seven kids, Jake.”
“No, but if we have four they can each have their own room, then there’s an office for you, leaving us with one guest bedroom.”
“You mean you don’t have a guest house on the property?” she teased.
He tried to school his expression when he answered, “I’d really consider it more of a pool house than a guest house…”
She shook her head and grumbled, “Rich people.”
“You’re one of us now!” he whispered in her ear.
“What if we go to New Orleans next weekend?”
He shook his head. “Next weekend we’re going to be in Bora Bora on our honeymoon.” He was looking forward to French Polynesia and a little alone beach time with his bride.
She stifled a yawn, and he stood up, not caring that it was only seven thirty. She needed to go to bed early after he’d kept her up so late last night, and he still wanted some playtime before bedtime.
“We need to get you to bed, beautiful.” In a lower voice, he added, “You have a punishment coming.”
Her smile made his cock hard, and they started making the rounds of saying goodnight to everyone, citing the excitement had taken too much out of her, and she had a big day tomorrow—all true. When they reached Bella and Dante, the redhead wagged her finger at him.
“Uh uh. You’re not welcome here tonight, Jacob. Sorry, you have to sleep at your villa—alone. It’s bad luck to be together the night before the ceremony. The next time you see her will be when she’s walking down the aisle.”
“Nope.” They’d been apart too long since the cruise—not to mention the goddamn seven years before the cruise, he wasn’t spending another night away from her.
Taren turned to him and stroked his arm. “It’s only one night, babe. We’ll have the rest of our lives to sleep in the same bed. I don’t want to tempt fate.”
He stared down at her pleading eyes and felt his resolve dissipating. Glancing at Bella with a scowl, he snarled, “Fine,” through gritted teeth.
“I will be checking the cameras. I’ll know if you try to sneak in her room again, and I’m not above dragging you out by your ear.”
He narrowed his eyes at her, but she only laughed.
“My house, my rules.”
“Then we’ll stay at my place.”
“No, you won’t,” the redhead replied confidently.
His shoulders sagged because he knew she was right; no, they wouldn’t. There was no use fighting her.
Glaring at Bella, he grabbed Taren’s hand. “Come on, baby. Let’s go make out in the corner, then. Away from the cameras.”
Bella cackled as she called after them, “Keep your hands where I can see them!”
He would—Tink was right, they had the rest of their lives.
As he held her close to him, he put his hand on her belly and sighed. He’d have to be sure to include a thank you to the universe in his wedding vows tomorrow.
Epilogue
Taren
“How soon after the baby gets here can you fly again?” Jacob asked her as they got off the plane in Houston and she waddled to the car waiting for them on the tarmac. They’d been in San Diego visiting Bella and Dante so Jacob could finalize the paperwork for his interest in the dispensary business. That was going to be her last trip—her doctor said she couldn’t fly after thirty-six weeks.
Their driver pulled up to the high rise they’d finally moved into. The private security guard in the front got out first then opened their door. The Sinaloans still hadn’t caught the leader behind Madi’s kidnapping, and with Taren’s due date fast approaching, Jacob had become extra vigilant. There were two more guards in a car behind them who’d stand watch in the lobby and outside their front door.
She started reminiscing about her weekend with Bella.
“Dante and Jacob have banned me from interfering with John and Quinn, so I’m worried I’m going to lose my touch,” Bella lamented one afternoon as they sat on the beach watching Madison play in the sand.
“You lose your touch? I find that hard to believe.”
“Maybe I just read John and Quinn wrong,” Bella said as she dug her toes in the sand. “I’ve been known to do that before—I didn’t think Reagan and Edward should be together, and look at them. Those two are ridiculously in love. Maybe John and Quinn are really just supposed to be the best of friends and nothing more.”
“That might be one that just has to happen on its own,” Taren offered as she let the sand run through her fingers.
“You might be right,” the redhead said with a shrug. “Anyway, if anything is going to happen, they’ll need to figure it out on their own. I’m officially minding my own business—at least as far as those two are concerned. For now. Dante wants to try and have another baby—I need to concentrate on distracting him from that.”
“You don’t want another one?”
“I’m thirty-eight. No, I don’t want to get pregnant again. They’re going to make me do all kinds of tests because I’d be considered high risk. Have you seen the size of the needle they use for an amniocentesis?” She shuddered. “No. Thank. You.”
Taren laughed at her badass friend’s fear of needles.
“Have you thought about adopting?”
“Yeah, but I’m not sure I want someone digging into my background too closely, you know? Since I’m supposed to be dead and all.”
“Like mother, like daughter,” Taren teased, then immediately clapped her hand over her mouth. “Was that in bad taste? It’s not really something to joke about—I’m sorry.”
Bella laughed. “I hadn’t thought about it like that, but, that’s pretty funny, actually. I hope Marcus gets that figured out soon. It’s just going to get harder to disguise the fact that she’s alive, the older she gets.”
“You could always say you adopted her.”
“We might have to. Are you going to go back to work once James is born?”
Running her hand over her stomach at the mention of their son’s name, Taren couldn’t help but smile. After some negotiation, they’d finally decided to call him James. “Maybe when he’s three or four—and I’m sure it’d only be part-time. We travel too much for anything else.”
“I understand that. I wish we could spend more time in Mexico, but Dante hasn’t let Madi go back since Jacob found her in that warehouse. And he and I have only been back a handful of times since your wedding.”
Taren smiled at the memory of that weekend. It truly had been magical. Bella and Reagan had done an amazing job, especially considering it had been so last minute—although not as last-minute as she’d originally thought. Jacob came clean on their honeymoon that in addition to working with the women on getting her to Mexico and talking to him, he’d planted that he wanted to marry her as soon as possible. The matchmaking ninjas’ wheels started spinning in overdrive and were delighted when their plan came together, and they got to throw her not only an amazing baby shower, but an awesome wedding as well.
And she’d certainly enjoyed married life. Jake seemed to relish his role as husband and future-father and had spent every day making her feel loved and protected. However, the nights that she called him Sir had become nonexistent once she started her third trimester, and she’d been particularly bratty because of it.
“I’m keeping track, Tinkerbell,” he’d warned in her ear. “Once James gets here, and the doctor gives you the okay, you’re not going to be sitting down for a week. Maybe a month if you keep it up.”
“Promises, promises,
” she snarked back.
“So brave,” he’d murmured. “We’ll see how brave you are in about five months.”
Turns out, she regretted being so sassy.
****
Jacob
Being semi-retired at forty-one was pretty damn nice. It helped that his baby boy and wife kept him busy.
When Marcus had first come on board, Jacob made sure to play a role in any active case. Now, he was only doing that if it was a past client who had yet to work with Marcus. But Edward’s little brother had been raring to go from the start and worked nonstop. Jacob didn’t ask him what he was avoiding—he remembered those days seven years ago, when working was the only thing that kept him sane after breaking up with Taren.
The pot dispensaries were well-oiled machines. Dante, Bella, and John had perfected their business model, so opening a new shop was smooth sailing. They’d done a good job about divvying up each of the owner’s involvement, so it didn’t require much effort on any of their parts.
It also helped that Quinn was a master at making sure everyone did what they were supposed to. If Jacob were being honest, she was really the one running the show. They were lucky to have her. John better not fuck it up by getting involved with her and breaking her heart.
He and Dante had both voiced their concerns to John and were met with reassurances that, ‘they were just really good friends’. Which, didn’t seem to make Bella very happy, but she was overruled.
Tinkerbell was going to the doctor today. If Dr. Bonet gave the all-clear for them to be intimate again, he was whisking her away this weekend while leaving his parents in charge of James. They were in dire need of some sleep and sex—not necessarily in that order. And Taren had a red ass coming to her after all the sass she’d been dishing out these last few months. It’d only been in the last few weeks, as her ‘all-clear’ date loomed on the horizon, that she’d toned it down a notch.
It wasn’t going to help her.
“I told you, baby. I’m keeping track,” he’d said gruffly in her ear last weekend when she’d been impertinent, then tried to back-pedal—even calling him Sir when he’d simply smirked in return. He was counting the days.
