by Megan Green
I’d never gone so slow with a woman. Don’t get me wrong; I wasn’t a selfish bastard. I made sure she got off before me. But I mean, the act itself. It had always been fast and frenzied, both of us chasing release and nothing more.
Making love to Liv was about more than just an orgasm. It was about…us.
After last night, there is no mistaking there is an us.
And I can’t fucking wait to see what us has in store.
Fuck, I’m becoming a chick. What would Tag say if he could hear me now?
My phone vibrates on the nightstand, and my head snaps over to it, wondering if the fucker somehow read my mind. I slide my arm out from under Liv as gently as possible before rolling over and grabbing the damn thing.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: I can make you happy, B. Just give me a chance.
Goddamn it. Jayne.
First chance I get, I’m changing my damn number. Apparently, this chick isn’t gonna get the hint any other way. And the last thing I want is her causing any sort of anxiety for Liv. She doesn’t need to see Jayne’s ridiculous, continued texts, especially when they aren’t welcome or wanted.
I’m debating my response to Jayne when I hear Liv rustle behind me. Locking the screen and dropping the phone back onto the nightstand, I decide I can deal with that later. Right now, I want to be right here with my girl and my baby as they both wake up for the day.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” I say with a smile, turning back to face her.
I lift a hand to brush the hair off her face, her eyes puffy from sleep and her face red from where it was smashed against the pillow.
She’s the most beautiful damn thing I’ve ever seen.
I drop my mouth to hers, pressing a kiss to her lips. She squeals in protest and pushes at my shoulders. I slightly pull back, raising a quizzical brow.
“Morning breath,” she says through clenched teeth.
I let out a hearty laugh, brushing the tip of her nose with mine. “Woman, I’ve been lying here, watching you sleep, for the past hour, desperate for you to wake up so that I can taste you. You think I give a damn about morning breath?”
I close my mouth over hers again, but she isn’t having it. She pushes at me again, and I roll over onto my back with a groan.
“You’re killing me, Tink.”
She giggles. “You might not care, but I do. Give me two seconds. I’ll be right back.”
She scampers off the bed and into the en suite bathroom, her pert little ass swaying as she moves. Groaning again, I push myself up off the bed and follow her. Might as well deal with my stank breath, too.
Once we’re both sufficiently brushed, she tugs on the robe I keep on the back of the bathroom door but never use. It’s at least three sizes too big for her, and the ends trail along the floor on her tiny frame, but she looks so damn adorable, I can’t even give her shit for it. I pull on a pair of shorts and a plain cotton tee, and the two of us head out to the living room and make ourselves comfortable on the couch.
The couch…where Liv completely turned my world on its axis the night before.
“I think I might hate this couch,” I say as I pull her into my chest, settling her in the crook of my arm.
She snuggles into me. “Oh, and why is that?”
“Because it got to see entirely too much of your naked ass last night. And that ass is mine.”
I feel her body shudder as she stifles a laugh.
“God, you are so cheesy. It’s a wonder you’ve ever managed to get laid. Do women really fall for those lines?”
“Don’t you ever doubt me, Tink. The Jeffers Playbook is ironclad. Not that it matters anymore.”
She lifts her face from my chest and gives me a questioning look.
“I meant what I said last night, Tink. I want this. Us. You and me and, in a few months, our baby. The Jeffers Playbook is officially retired.”
She beams at me. “We’re really going to do this, huh?”
I smile back. “You bet your cute ass we are. And we’re gonna rock it. Lexi and Tag had better watch out. There’s a new power couple in town. Biv is coming for you.”
“Biv?” she chokes out. “What in the hell is Biv?”
“Our couple name. Landon doesn’t work because that’s a real fucking name. If you don’t like Biv, then maybe…Bolivia?”
Her brows rise. “You realize that’s a country, right? And, like, a super-poor country at that. That seems slightly disrespectful.”
I let out a sigh. “Well, way to ruin a man’s good mood. Okay, Bolivia is out, and Biv is back on. And, just for good measure, I’ll track down the best charitable organization I can find for the area and make a hefty donation. That should hopefully clear any bad juju I just caused with the relationship gods.”
She chuckles as she lays her head back on my chest. “Sounds good to me. Though I’m still not feeling the whole Biv thing.”
I shift us so that she’s lying back on the sofa, pulling open her robe and gently laying my head on her belly. Drawing small circles with the tip of my finger right in front of my nose, I open my mouth, and for the first time, I speak to my baby, “You hear that, little tyke? Your mama doesn’t like the name I just gave us. What do you think she’ll say when I tell her we’re gonna name you George Herman if you’re a boy or Babe Ruth if you’re a girl?”
Liv swats at my arm. “Over my dead body. Those are awful names for a kid.”
I wince, pressing my lips against her stomach. “Oh, man, now, she’s bad-mouthing the big man. I don’t know about this, kid. What am I gonna do with her?”
Liv’s eyes soften as she watches my lips move against her skin. “I like watching you do that. Hearing you talk to our baby.”
I press a kiss next to her navel. “Good, because I plan on doing it every chance I get. You be good for your mama in there, okay, little tyke? Don’t cause her too much grief. And I know you’ve still got a while to cook, and I want you to come out nice and strong, but could you hurry your tiny butt up a little? I love you so much already, and I can’t wait to meet you.”
Liv’s eyes are filled with tears when I close her robe and look back up at her.
“What do you say we take a little field trip today?”
“Tell me about her,” Liv says, her fingers entwined with mine as I navigate the car along the busy streets of Seattle.
I flash her a quick smile before turning my attention back to the road. “Who? Mama?”
I don’t have to look at her to know she’s rolling her eyes.
“No, the Queen of England.”
“Oh. Well, in that case…”
She reaches over with her free hand to swat at me again, and I secretly love that she didn’t break our hold in order to do so.
“Of course your mother, you dolt.”
“Does dolt mean handsome motherfucker? Because, if so, I absolutely concur.”
She lets out an exasperated sigh. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Does that mean handsome motherfucker because—”
“Tell me about your mom, Brandon,” she interrupts.
She tries to act irritated, but I know, deep down, she loves my ridiculous personality.
I mean, who wouldn’t? I’m fucking irresistible.
But I decide to drop the act and answer her, knowing she’ll feel much more comfortable when we reach my mom’s place if she knows a little bit about her.
Liv was pretty damn surprised when I suggested our field trip to my mom’s. No doubt she thought I’d take her to the Space Needle or the Sound or maybe even on a private tour of Rampage Stadium, after which I’d fuck her on home plate. And I have every intention of doing all of those things before she leaves. But first things first.
I want my mama to meet my baby mama.
No, I want the only woman I’ve ever been able to count on over the years to meet the new important woman in my life. And I need to do it now, so word doesn’t get back to Mama before I have a chance to tell her.
Mom is going to be thril
led about Liv and the baby. She’s been hounding me about wanting grandkids since I could legally drink. Unfortunately for her, neither my sister nor I have ever expressed any interest in becoming parents, a fact that deeply upset my mother. I can’t really say I blame her. She’d be a kick-ass grandma.
So, I know she won’t be upset about the baby even if Liv and I aren’t married and this came about in…less than ideal circumstances.
But what she would be upset about is…
Finding out she’s going to be a grandma on the cover of the latest gossip rag.
I love my mom way too damn much to do that to her, and after I explained that to Liv, she quickly agreed to the visit. There is just something about a guy who loves his mom. It’s been scoring me chicks my entire life.
But that doesn’t make it any less true. I am a mama’s boy through and through.
“What do you wanna know?” I ask Liv as I change lanes, knowing my exit is coming up in a few miles.
“What’s she like?”
I blow out a breath. How do I explain the woman that is Mari Ann Jeffers?
“Well, she’s…she’s a lot like you actually. Strong, independent. Once my dad split, she took care of me and Mandy all by herself. Never once made us feel like a burden, never once let us feel like we were missing out on having two parents even though I’m sure it wasn’t easy raising us, alone. Especially me. I was a little shit.”
“Was?” she interjects, a sardonic smile playing over her lips.
“Don’t make me pull over and kiss that smirk off your face. I’ll do it.”
She chuckles. “How old were you when your dad left?”
I cringe, not at all enjoying the subject change. But, if she’s going to meet my mom, she’s also going to need to know about my dad. Might as well just get it over with. At least this way, she won’t end up bringing him up to Ma.
“Twelve.”
She shakes her head. “So young.”
I shake mine right back. “No. If anything, the bastard didn’t leave soon enough.”
I can feel her questioning gaze burning into me, so I continue, not taking my eyes from the road before me, “Typical story really. Dad was a drunk—a mean drunk. And his punching bag of choice? My mama.”
Liv gasps, and out of the corner of my eye, I see her hand lift to her mouth.
“He’d come home piss drunk every single night. We never knew when he’d finally come stumbling through the door, but it always ended the same way. It could be two in the morning, and he’d drag Mama out of bed by her hair, screaming at her about not having his dinner ready and waiting for him on the table. Didn’t matter that dinner had been done hours before, and his plate was warming in the oven. That wasn’t good enough. Or, if she did manage to stay up, he’d get pissed that she waited up and accuse her of not trusting him, which would set him off in a whole different way. There was no winning with that man.”
“Why did she stay?” Liv’s voice comes out as barely more than a whisper.
“At the time, I thought it was because she was scared to leave. Scared she wouldn’t be able to provide for us. Scared he’d find her and hurt her again…or worse.”
“I’m sensing there’s a but here.”
I nod. “But, when I got older, when I was finally mature enough to actually understand the workings of a marriage, I asked her. Told her she could’ve escaped years before he finally left, that there were ways and people who would have helped her.”
“And what did she say?”
I swallow down the lump building in my throat. “Despite the fact that my father was a lowlife piece of shit, he was wealthy. Something to do with his parents and their parents and yada, yada, yada. It’s why he was able to skate by with no job, instead drinking himself into oblivion, but still keep a roof over our heads. He was the black sheep of his family, and instead of dealing with him, his parents paid him to just stay out of the way. But that didn’t mean they were prepared to let his wife run off with his kids.”
“You mean…”
I nod again. “Yep. He knew what a bastard he was. Knew that my mother was way too beautiful, too smart, and too damn strong to be with someone like him. So, he used the only leverage he had. Me and my sister. One phone call to his dad would be all it took to get the best custody lawyers on his side. And my mom would never leave me and Mandy in that monster’s hands.”
“He never hurt you?”
“No. Not physically at least. He reserved that solely for my mother. But watching that every day, having to witness your father hitting your mother until her skin bruised and her bones broke, it sure didn’t leave me unmarked.”
“Is he why you’re so intent on being a part of the baby’s life?” she asks, placing a hand over her belly.
I nod. “Part of it. I never want my child to resent their father. Not like I did.”
“And the other part?”
I turn my blinker on, taking the exit for my mother’s house and slowing as I come down the off ramp. When I reach the light at the end, I stop. Turning to face Liv, I pull her hand to my lips and press a gentle kiss against her knuckles.
“You. There’s nothing I want more in this life than to raise my baby with you.”
Chapter 21
Liv
I lean forward, setting my coffee mug on a coaster on the table before me, covering my mouth with the back of my hand in an attempt to prevent the spray of coffee that’s threatening to squeeze past my lips as I laugh.
I swallow hard, choking back a cough and looking between Brandon and his mother.
“He didn’t,” I deadpan, the shock evident in my tone.
Mari Ann Jeffers raises her right hand toward the ceiling, placing her left over her heart. “I swear to the big man upstairs. I’m pretty sure I have a video of it around here somewhere. I’ll have to track it down and show it to you next time you come out.”
“Over my dead body,” Brandon spits out through gritted teeth.
He’s trying to act put out, but I can tell he’s enjoying the conversation just as much as I am. Even if it is at his expense.
“Oh, sweetie, you were so cute, up there on the kitchen table in your Ghostbusters undies, belting the theme song at the top of your lungs.”
“If there’s something strange—” I tease, cutting myself off when Brandon shoots me an evil grin.
I know I’m going to pay for that later.
Hopefully in the form of his face buried between my legs.
A shiver of desire runs up my spine, but I quickly tamp it down. I’m sitting on his mother’s couch, for God’s sake.
Mari Ann is everything I could’ve hoped for and more. I didn’t know much about the woman before we arrived, but considering how important she was to Brandon, I felt like I needed to make a good impression. And I was nervous as all hell.
It was all for nothing though because, as soon as Mari Ann opened the door, she took one look at me before shifting her eyes to Brandon.
“It’s about damn time,” she said to him as she pulled me in for a hug.
I had no clue what she meant, but it didn’t take long for me to find out. I am the first girl Brandon has ever brought home. And, apparently, just knowing that I mean enough to her son to bring me here is enough for her to decide she likes me.
We’ve all spent the last hour on her couch. Brandon and I told her about how we’d met. We left out the less than savory details though. Given her son’s reputation, I’m sure she could probably figure it out.
When Brandon just blurted out that I was pregnant, I wanted to sink into the couch and disappear. I hadn’t been expecting that at all. I thought this was just a getting to know you type of thing. But I should’ve known better. Brandon never does anything halfway.
I’d expected his mother to think poorly of me, considering we hadn’t known each other long. I’d expected some sort of accusation about me being after his money. But, instead, I was met only with silence. When I finally took a chance and looked up to
her face, I found only sheer happiness. Well, sheer happiness and a shit-ton of tears.
After hugging us both and telling us at least a thousand times how happy she was, she immediately launched into the questions.
“When are you due?”
“How big is the baby?”
“Have you thought about names?”
“Is there anything you need?”
And, most importantly…
“Do you have any pictures?”
Lucky for her, I’d taken to carrying my ultrasound photos around with me everywhere. She gushed over the black-and-white images, which in turn led to her telling me about Brandon as a baby. Then, as a toddler, and now…
“You were the cutest little Ghostbuster I’d ever seen,” Mari Ann coos at him, reaching over and squeezing his cheek like he’s a chubby toddler instead of a nearly thirty-year-old man.
Brandon takes it in stride, however, smiling at his mom and taking her hand in his. “What can I say? That movie was the shit. Plus, Sigourney Weaver was a babe back then.”
Mari Ann rolls her eyes. “Yes, I know. You have no idea how many years I worried I might actually end up with Dana Barrett as my daughter-in-law. Your obsession with that woman knew no bounds.”
Brandon shrugs innocently. “I’d be her keymaster any day. Well, eighties Sigourney. Not 2018 Siggy. Eh, who am I kidding? I’d still take her.”
I shove at him, pushing him over onto the throw pillows on the side of the couch.
He chuckles. “Jeez, babe, only joking. You’re much cooler than Zuul. Too cool for Zuul—that’s what you are.”
He laughs at his own joke, and even though it was lame as hell, I can’t help but smile with him.
“You’re hopeless. I don’t know what I’m going to do with you,” I tell him, shaking my head.
Mari Ann reaches over and squeezes my knee. “Oh, honey, I’ve been trying to figure that out for twenty-eight years. It’s best just not to think about it.”
My phone vibrates in my back pocket, and I lean forward as I laugh, pulling it out so that I can glance at it.
I don’t recognize the number, so I silence it and set it on the couch beside me, turning back to ask Mari Ann another question about Brandon. But, before I can get more than two words out, the ringing starts again.
