by J. Daniels
“Sweets, are you okay?”
Juls’ voice cuts into my thoughts. I twist the towel around my one hand, making it look like something a boxer might wrap his punching hand with. “Huh? Uh, yeah. I just—” I look up at her, “—are you going to tell Ian?”
She shakes her head. “Not until I take a test first. You know how he is. He’ll tell everyone on that damn plane he’s going to be a daddy if I say anything to him now. And I’d hate to get his hopes up.”
I chuckle. Ian would do something like that. That man is crazy when it comes to Juls. I smile at the idea of my very best friend driving a minivan full of little black-haired Ian lookalikes. She’ll have no trouble balancing her wedding planner business with soccer practice and PTA meetings. She’s amazing at everything and makes it look effortless. And then another image fills my mind: me, working in the kitchen of my bakery while tiny little feet run circles around my worktop. I can see the wild mess of brown hair just above the counter height and little grubby hands reaching for a taste of whatever it is I’m making. And that image makes my eyes suddenly misty.
Juls grabs my hand, squeezing it gently. “Hey, what’s wrong? No crying during your wedding week.”
I reach up and wipe underneath my eyes, turning my body toward her. “I want to take a test, too. Do you think we could do it together?”
Her eyes go wild with excitement and then instantly water over. She wraps her arms around me. “Oh, my God. Yes, of course. Have you talked to Reese about having kids yet?”
“No, not yet. But it’s weird. I got sick too.”
She leans away from me and frowns. “That is weird. Although, it could just be nerves. You have been stressed out to the max lately.” Her eyes glance over my shoulder and she immediately shakes off any trace of baby emotion on her face. “We’ll keep this between us until we know for sure,” she whispers.
I nod, spinning around and seeing Brooke pull her luggage down the stairs, followed by Joey and Billy who are arguing. Once they reach the bottom, Joey hands Billy his suitcase and makes his way over toward us with distinct annoyance. Billy and Brooke walk outside, leaving the three of us alone in the kitchen.
“Any chance your sister can ride with the luggage? I’m in no mood for another plane ride with her.”
Juls steps into him and pokes her finger at his chest. “Buck up, JoJo. And drop the attitude. Poor Billy doesn’t deserve to put up with your moodiness because you’re on your man period.” She stalks away from him like she’s just delivered an epic blow, swaying her hips and letting her heels click loudly on the marble floor.
Joey huffs dramatically. “My ‘man period’? What the hell has gotten into her?”
Hormones.
Reese walks through the front door, grabbing the last suitcase Brooke apparently left for whomever to pick up for her. My eyes narrow in on his perfectly-messed-up hair, and I can’t hide the smile that will most likely blind anyone who looks at it.
Mini-Reese’s running around my shop. How crazy cute would that be?
He raises his head and locks eyes with me, shifting the suitcase into his left hand and holding his right out for me to take. “Cabs are here. Are you two ready?”
I’m ready. To go back to Chicago. To take a test and find out if I’m simply losing my edge when it comes to my drinking ability. To be one day closer to marrying the only man I’ve ever pictured having tiny lookalikes with.
I could be pregnant right now. There could be a tiny peanut inside me, pissed the hell off that I chose to drag him to my bachelorette party. I flatten my hand against my stomach as I move toward Reese, holding out my other hand for him to take.
His brow furrows. “Is your stomach still upset? I can ask the driver to stop on the way to the airport to get you something for it.”
I shake my head, patting my stomach before dropping my hand down. “No. I’m okay.”
You hear that, peanut? If you’re in there, I’m definitely okay.
“You want the window seat, love? Is doesn’t matter to me.”
I glance up at Reese, bringing my attention away from my belly. He secures my carry-on in the overhead compartment above our row before turning his eyes to me. I smile and press a kiss to his stubbly jaw before I move between the seats, feeling his hand smack my ass. “Thanks, handsome. Juls hogged it on the way here,” I say with a teasing tone, loud enough for her to hear.
She scrunches her face at me in the row ahead of us.
“I’m going to use the bathroom before we take off,” Brooke says, getting out of her seat in front of me and proceeding toward the back of the plane.
Joey stands from his seat across the aisle from us and claims Brooke’s, kneeling so he’s facing me. He motions for me to come closer, grabbing Juls’ attention in the process. “So, what happened with the dress? Did it survive the night?” he asks in a hushed whisper.
I glance over my shoulder at Reese, making sure he’s unaware of Joey’s questioning which apparently can’t wait ‘til we land in Chicago. His head is tilted down as he glances at his phone, completely focused. I scoot to the edge of my seat. “No, it was destroyed in a very Reese-like manner.”
“Hot.” Joey wiggles his brows playfully at me. “I bet you got laid hard, didn’t you?”
Juls slaps his arm. “Shouldn’t we be asking you that, Mister Threesome?”
“That did not happen. I’m gayer than gay, and so is Billy. We just snuggled.”
“Oh?” I ask, teasingly. “You snuggled with Brooke?”
He looks from me to Juls and then back to me. “Yes. In my drunken stupor, I snuggled with a girl. Now, if you both don’t mind, I’d like to hear about someone getting laid last night because I sure as shit didn’t.”
Juls rolls her eyes as I scoot closer to both of them. Frowning, I shake my head before I reply. “No one got laid in my bedroom. I wasn’t allowed any relief and was forced to watch Reese jerk himself off. It was hot and frustrating. And hot. Did I mention hot?”
Joey and Juls’ both stare at me, mouths gaped open. Ian turns his head and glares over the seat. “What did you just say?”
Oh, shit.
I sit back quickly, glaring at Juls and Joey with panicked eyes. Juls turns and plants her butt down in her seat while Joey stands and excuses himself across the aisle.
Reese places his hand on my leg. “Everything okay?”
“Hmm mmm.” I slide my hand underneath his, interlocking our fingers. “Do you want to have kids?” The words cascade out of my mouth like the scalding coffee did earlier, surprising us both in the process. Shit, Dylan. Way to just blurt it out. I drop my head against the seat, feeling my hand tighten against his and my breathing become slightly restricted.
He tilts his head, leaning closer to me. “With you? I’ve thought about it.”
“Yeah?”
He nods, his lip twitching in the corner. “Yeah.” Before I can pry anymore, he brings his free hand across his body and places it flat against my stomach. I stop breathing all together as I watch his eyes go to my belly. “I want to mark this, too.” I feel his palm slide across my shirt, applying the tiniest amount of pressure. He’s studying his hand on my belly like he always studies me, with pronounced focus. Like nothing could pull him out of his moment.
“Shit. He couldn’t stay here,” Juls grumbles in front of us.
My eyes lift and land on Bryce as he walks down the middle aisle. I immediately tense and Reese feels it. The hand on my belly is removed, and he brings our conjoined hands to his lap. I take my eyes off Bryce and watch as Reese sits back in his seat, his chest rising with a deep inhale. He’s radiating with an unspoken threat, and I know Bryce feels it. I can see the apprehension in his eyes as he approaches our row. He tries to hide it, but it’s there. And it should be; Reese could easily snap this asshole in half.
He doesn’t say anything to us, but I see the shift in his expression, the moment he grows balls as he walks up to our row. All uneasiness fades and I immediately recognize t
he Bryce who came into my shop that day. The one who stared at me as I kissed Reese goodbye outside the conference meeting. The one who bought me the drink last night.
The fucker who thinks he actually has a shot.
“I’m sorry,” Reese says to me as Bryce moves past our row to the back of the plane. I look at him with confusion and he shakes his head with a heavy sigh. “I didn’t know he was going to be on this flight. I thought he was staying here for a few more days.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not. I don’t like him around you.”
I place my free hand on his forearm. “Reese, it’s fine. Really.” My voice is full of conviction, and I see it working on his suddenly-geared-up state. He brings my hand to his lips and kisses it just as Brooke walks past him and stops in front of Ian.
“That guy is a total douche-canoe.” Her eyes meet mine as I hold my breath.
Don’t say it. Please, God, don’t say it.
“Seriously, Dylan. Good on you for throwing your drink in his face last night.”
Fuuccckkkkkk.
“Sit your ass down,” Juls growls, reaching out for her sister and yanking her into the row. Brooke yelps as she tumbles over Ian, claiming her seat next to Juls.
I clamp my eyes shut, preparing myself for what could quite possibly ground this airplane. I don’t need to look at Reese to know that he is fuming right now. I can sense it in the air.
“Dylan, what the fuck is she talking about?”
Maybe if I jump out the emergency exit, he won’t follow me. That might be my best option here. Or I could punch myself in the face and pray for unconsciousness.
“Dylan, answer me.”
His voice is so commanding, my body submits without a fight. I’m immediately turned toward him and grabbing both his hands, pulling them into my lap. “He was at the club we went to last night. We didn’t know he was there until he bought me a drink and when that happened, I threw it in his face. He ran his mouth a little and then we left. That’s all that happened, I swear.”
His chest rises several times, heaving with fury. “He saw you in that dress.” He pulls his hands out of mine and settles back into his seat. He’s rigid, every muscle flexed as he struggles to keep himself seated. I know he wants to run to the back of the plane. I know he wants to beat the shit out of Bryce. And I know, by the way he isn’t touching me, that I’m in deep shit for keeping this information from him.
Goddamn that dress. It’s really screwing me left and right.
The two-and-a-half-hour plane ride home was the longest of my life. I’m not sure why I complained about the one to New Orleans. I would much rather listen to Joey and Brooke banter endlessly as opposed to complete silence from my fiancé, the man who is never quiet with me. Juls kept giving me sympathetic looks over the seat, while Brooke kept mouthing ‘I’m sorry’ throughout the eerily quiet flight. But even though he was pissed, even though he was angrier than he’s ever been with me, he was still my Reese.
He got me a ginger ale from the flight attendant without me asking for it. He carried my luggage with his as we walked from the terminal to his Range Rover. And he opened every door for me. I knew he wasn’t purposely trying to make me feel even worse about keeping information from him, but that’s definitely what ended up happening.
I hear the TV turn on in the living room as I plop myself down on the edge of his bed. I feel drained, mentally and emotionally. We’ve been home for nineteen minutes, not that I’m counting, and he still hasn’t said one word to me.
I hate this.
Reese’s words mean more to me than a lot of things. It was what I missed the most when we were apart for eighty-five days, and I could give him space right now and let him talk to me when he’s ready, but I don’t want space from Reese. I never will. If he doesn’t want to talk to me in the traditional sense, maybe I can coax a few written words from him. I grab my phone out of the suitcase I haven’t bothered unpacking yet and sit back down on the bed, folding my legs underneath me.
Me: Do you know the exact moment I knew I loved you?
I press send and hear the alert on his phone go off in the distance. I can’t see if he’s reading it and typing a response, reading it and deciding I don’t deserve a response, or ignoring me completely. I go with option two. I’m not sure I deserve much of anything right now.
Me: It was on your birthday. Do you remember what we did?
I’m typing the answer for him when my phone beeps.
Reese: How could I forget? I never thought I’d get you in my bed.
I blink and send the tears down my cheeks, sniffing loudly. Loud enough to possibly alert him of my crying. But it’s hard not to cry when he’s given me his words. I’ve only been deprived of them for a little over three hours, but it felt like longer. Much longer. As I type my response, movement in the doorway catches my attention.
I’m in his arms before I can speak, before I can tell him I’m sorry, before I can wipe the tears from my face. I’m so drawn to him that even if I wanted to remain on the bed, there’s not a chance in Hell I could. Not when I’ve fucked up and I need him to feel how sorry I am. My body trembles as he lifts me off the ground and holds me against him. He moans into my hair, and I cling to him like I’m desperate. Like I’ve been deprived for years of his contact. Like it could be taken away from me at any minute. And that’s exactly how he holds me.
It kills me.
I cry harder, grip him tighter, bury my face so far into his neck it becomes borderline painful. I don’t register that he’s carried me throughout his condo until he crouches down and sits on the couch with me in his arms. I scoot closer until I’m practically in his skin. Until it’s hard to determine where he ends and I begin. He keeps one arm on my legs while the other stays wrapped around my upper body.
I brush my lips against his neck, fisting his shirt in my hands. “I’m so sorry, Reese. Please talk to me. Yell, scream, I don’t care. Just give me something. I can’t stand not hearing your voice.”
His breath warms the side of my face as he tilts his head down. “I wanted you on that trip with me because I can’t stand being away from you. I’m selfish when it comes to you, Dylan. I always will be. I knew there was a possibility you would have to see Bryce. I knew he made you uncomfortable, but I took that risk and asked you to come with me anyway.” He shifts me in his lap so we’re face to face. “And then when I saw how you reacted to him on the plane, it killed me. I put you there. I made you feel that way. He saw you in that dress because of me. He stared at you, thinking the same thing I thought when I saw you in it. Because. Of. Me. I didn’t put you first, and I should have. I don’t deserve to know when you fell in love with me. I don’t deserve to hear your voice.”
My heart thunders in my chest as I absorb his words, words I wasn’t expecting to hear. I had prepared myself for a Reese-style flip-out, but not this. How can this man think I wouldn’t follow him anywhere? That any of this is his fault?
“No.” I grab his face with my hands, brushing along the stubble on his jaw. “I wanted to be with you just as much as you wanted me there. Even if you wouldn’t have asked me to go, I would’ve snuck in your suitcase or booked a flight without you knowing. I can’t stand to be away from you either, so don’t you dare act like this addiction is one-sided. I’m just as obsessed and selfish as you are.”
Did I mention how much I hate to lose at anything? The competitive streak in me is fully engaged right now and if Reese thinks he’s got me beat on this, he’s dead wrong. In a battle of who loves who more, I’m taking the prize on this one.
I turn my body completely, straddling his lap and dropping my hands to his shoulders. “Now you listen to me, Carroll. I’m the one who should be feeling like shit here. Me. Not you. I’m the one who’s constantly challenging you with outfits and my incessant need to push your buttons. And I’ll always be like that. You’re marrying someone who will most likely drive you crazy for the rest of your life. Why?”
; Why? Shit. Why the hell did I ask that? Good job, Dylan. Let’s make the man you love question the biggest decision of his life.
He opens his mouth to speak but I quickly slap my hand over it. “Ignore that. We’re getting off topic.” I feel his laugh against my hand before dropping it to my lap, allowing the slightest smile to touch my lips. “I should’ve told you I saw Bryce at the club last night. I didn’t because I was afraid of what you would do to him. And I also didn’t want anything to mess up that account.”
“What happened?” The sorrowed look he had moments ago has completely vanished, replaced with a look I’d never want to go up against. He seems to grow in size as he waits for me to recount my evening; that, or I’m suddenly cowering down. Could be a bit of both. “Dylan, do I need to call Brooke and ask her to tell me?”
I narrow my eyes at him and pout. “No. You don’t.” I exhale loudly, grabbing his hands and moving them to my breasts.
He frowns, looking at his hands. “What are you doing?”
“I’m using what I have to my advantage. You need to stay calm, and keeping your hands on my body is like a mild sedative for you.”
“Not for my cock,” he grunts. “And don’t try to distract me. I want to know right now what happened last night. Every fucking detail.”
I slide my hands to his wrists, lightly holding him. He doesn’t make an attempt to move, so I decide to continue. “None of us knew Bryce was at that club until we went to the bar. The bartender gave me a drink and told me Bryce had bought it for me, which really pissed me the hell off. I mean, really. The nerve of that asshole. Like I would ever accept a drink from him.”
“Dylan… focus.”
“Right. Sorry.” I clear my throat and think back to last night. “I went over to him with it and he opened his big stupid mouth, saying it’s been too long since he’s seen me and my dress belonged on his floor.” Reese clenches his teeth and tries to drop his hands but I keep them on me. “I threw my drink in his face and he acted like he liked it, which pissed me off even more. Then he said something about me having a temper and asked if I fuck you angry. Joey tried to step in but I told him to drop it. Juls cussed him out. Brooke did, too. We left right after that.”
