Awkward.

by Kate, Lily

I shake my head, giggling as he sets the bag down and envelopes me in a hug. My hands cup his cheeks, pull his face close to mine as we sink into a kiss. “Romance Academy Rule number five hundred and seventy-three: never stop wooing your wife. I love you so much, Jack Darcy.”

  “I love you too, Mrs. Darcy.”

  My eyes flash open, partway through the kiss as Jack pauses for a breath. “Can I open it now?”

  He barks a laugh. “I hope you never lose your excitement for presents.”

  “I’ll try,” I say, digging into the tissue paper. Once I unearth the box and pull the top open, my suspicions are confirmed. “Jack! You shouldn’t have! I love them! I feel like—”

  “Cinderella?”

  “I was going to say the luckiest girl in the world,” I tell him, swooning as I clasp a brand-new pair of heels to my chest. “But yes, you make me feel like a princess.”

  “Why don’t you wear those tonight?” Jack says, his voice turning a bit hoarse as he whispers into my ear. “And that dress of yours I love so much. Clothing underneath is optional.”

  My blood begins to heat, my skin warm to the touch despite the goose bumps there. “Jack Darcy, what has gotten into you?”

  “I know what’s on your agenda tonight,” he murmurs. “It’s not as if you’ve been sly in your hints about it.”

  I blink at him, feigning innocence. “Agenda? What agenda?”

  He gestures around the apartment. “Jack’s new book about how to be a big brother? The new stroller you bookmarked on my internet browser that has two seats? The pink blanket you’ve stashed above my suits in the closet?”

  I bite my lip. “And?”

  “And...” Jack pauses and scoops me into his lap, the shoes falling to the floor. “I’d say that if we didn’t have plans tonight, we could set your agenda in motion right now.”

  “Oh, Jack.” I can feel him, hard underneath me, as I wrap my arms around his neck and move against him. “What if we tell the girls that I got sick, and they don’t need to show up—”

  His hand runs underneath me, teasing, a want so intense I forget my thoughts mid-sentence.

  “It’s too late,” he murmurs against my ear. “I guess we’ll just have to wait for later.”

  “Not too late,” I say, fumbling for my phone. “I’ll just say I’m throwing up, and—” At that moment, there’s a knock on the door and the sound of two girlish giggles coming from outside. My head snaps up to look at Jack. “Aw, shit.”

  “That’s no way to greet your friends,” he says, but he’s got a wide grin on his face. As he stands, he brushes a hand over my breast and whispers in my ear. “But I’m glad my plan is working. Why don’t you get dressed, and I’ll let them in?”

  I nod, still mute from the intensity of Jack’s touches, his promises for later, his adorable smile and the gleam in his eyes. As always, he’s dressed to perfection in a sharp suit, his features beautifully chiseled, his posture tall and lean and gorgeous.

  I’m still standing there looking confused when Jack pops the door open. Caroline and Aimee burst through, each waving bottles of champagne. Aimee has a cake in her other hand, and Caroline carries a purse large enough to store a full-grown dog inside.

  “Happy anniversary!” they shout together. “Yay!”

  “Thank you, ladies,” Jack says, reaching for the champagne bottle. “You shouldn’t have. We’re going out tonight.”

  “Oh, this is for me,” Caroline says, pulling it to her chest. “Technically it’s Aimee’s turn to babysit, but I wanted to peek at baby Jack’s cheeks and keep her company.”

  “I’m not drinking,” Aimee says, barely hiding back a sheepish grin. “But I am celebrating!”

  “Are you pregnant?” I say, my jaw dropping.

  “I’m engaged!” She flashes a ring toward me, a brilliant, beautiful diamond. “Matt proposed last night! I had to tell you guys in person, otherwise I would’ve called you.”

  “Aimee! I’m so happy for you!” I pull her into a hug. “About time, huh, Mr. Cooper?”

  “Our anniversary was yesterday,” she says, pulling her bling back to examine it. “No offense, but I’m really glad you never went out with him back in the day.”

  I grab Jack’s hand and squeeze, and he grins at me. “Yeah, that was never going to happen. I had my eye on a different stud.”

  “I’m still single,” Caroline says. “But I’ve got my champagne and the blog, and baby cheeks to squeeze, so I’m happy.”

  Caroline has been helping with my now-successful blog for the last couple of years. We meet once a week to put together posts, contests, interviews—and everything else under the sun that goes along with running a successful romance site. It’s intense, but it’s worth it.

  Aimee, meanwhile, has been going strong with the math teacher ever since he asked her out on that fateful day. Luckily, we’d gotten that straightened out. Then Jack and I had gotten together after his interview in Florida, resulting in a whirlwind three-month romance that ended in a proposal. We’d been married two years ago today.

  Baby Jack had come about a year after that, and hopefully next year, we’ll have another one. I love my baby boy more than anything, but I’m secretly hoping for a girl on number two. I mean, I have to pass down my shoe collection to someone.

  Jack is busy congratulating Aimee and politely examining her ring while Caroline pushes me out of the room to get dressed.

  “What’s on the agenda tonight?” she asks once we’re alone in my room. “Does Jack have secret plans prepared?”

  I nod, slipping into a nude-colored dress that reaches my knees, then easing into the new heels. They’re pure magic.

  “Never mind,” Caroline says, surveying my outfit. “Judging by your clothes, the two of you are hitting the nearest motel and getting to work on the size of your family.”

  I tilt my head to the side. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Have a great time tonight,” she says with a wink. “Come home, don’t come home, whatever—Aimee and I will hold down the fort. I need baby Jack snuggles, anyway.”

  I kiss her on the cheek, then return to the living room and congratulate Aimee some more, sigh and gasp over her ring, and then give her an air-kiss as well. Jack has disappeared somewhere, and by the time he returns, I’m standing at the door ready to go.

  Jack lays eyes on me as he re-enters the living room and stops dead in his tracks. “How do you get more beautiful every day?”

  Aimee fans herself and Caroline pops the champagne bottle open, watching the scene like it’s part of a movie.

  “You should go now,” Caroline says. “Before Aimee starts drooling.”

  Jack rests his hand on my back, but I pause him there and run back to the nursery. I check on baby Jack once more, real quick, until my husband and the girls pull me from the room and drag me into the hallway.

  “He’ll be fine for a few hours,” Jack says as we step into the elevator. “Relax, Allie.”

  I exhale a breath. “We haven’t left him alone for this long.”

  “He’s almost a year old. Caroline is responsible,” he says. “She can watch Aimee and Jack just fine.”

  I grin, leaning against him. “So, where are we going tonight?”

  Jack hooks a finger into the v-neck of my dress and peers inside. “I’m not sure we’ll make it out of the parking garage.”

  I give him a light smack to the arm, teasing, before I melt against him and rest my head against his chest. “Fine with me, but I’m not as flexible in my old age as I used to be.”

  “Believe it or not,” Jack says, as the doors to the elevator open. “I have made us reservations somewhere.”

  “But what about—”

  “Dinner first, and then I have reservations at this particular hotel where we spent our wedding night...”

  I can feel my eyes grow wide. “You what?!”

  “And a spa package for the morning,” he says.

  “Jack, that’s too much. We can’t stay away�
��”

  His hands come up and reach for my shoulders as we pause our stroll into the parking garage. He rubs my back, brushes a kiss against my neck, and leans in dangerously close to my ear.

  “Watch it,” I tell him, shivering underneath his touch. “This is how I got pregnant the first time.”

  He gives a soft laugh. “And you’re the most incredible wife, and mother, and friend. I think you deserve a night to relax, a little pampering tomorrow and a massage. What do you think?”

  “And dinner?” I ask, my stomach growling.

  “I have reservations at this little place you happen to love,” Jack says. “A little Chinese place that kept us together for years and years.”

  “Our Sunday night Chinese food place?!”

  “It’s not fancy,” he says. “But I figured—”

  “Come on, sir,” I tell him, grasping his hand and dragging him to the car. “We have an agenda to keep.”

  We manage to make it to the restaurant while keeping our hands somewhat-off each other, and finish dinner in record time. As we return to the car and head toward the hotel, Jack rests a hand on my leg, peering at me with unanswered questions in his eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “I’ve always meant to ask you. Romance Academy...” he says, trailing off. “Did I pass?”

  “Jack,” I tell him, serious. “You’re happily married. You have a beautiful son. We’re on the way to a hotel to have fantastic sex and hopefully make another baby. What do you think?”

  Jack eases back into his seat, a smile creeping over his lips. “I’d say you’re an excellent teacher, Mrs. Darcy.”

  “And I’d say you’re a fabulous student.” I squeeze his hand and press a kiss to his cheek. “You’ve passed with flying colors, Mr. Darcy.”

  The End

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  I sold my soul for a hamburger.

  And I have no regrets. When a girl is trapped indefinitely in an elevator with a smoking hot burger and an empty stomach, even the strongest of women will crumble.

  The story goes like this: Bradley Hamilton, former professional hockey player and the most frustrating human alive, offered me half of his hamburger in exchange for a date. I took him up on the offer—while under duress—and now I’m stuck with the consequences. Specifically, the scorching kiss at the end of our date that has me drooling for more.

  However, there’s one whopper of a problem. This man has been a thorn in my side for the last twenty years—ever since he moved next door and became my older brother’s best friend. We’ve gone head to head for years, and now, he’s trying to buy out my restaurant in order to plop one of his big fat gyms there instead.

  I refuse to let him ruin my business. Unfortunately, Bradley Hamilton is like an order of fries: you just can’t have one. It appears our lips are addicted to kissing. He’s alarmingly handsome. Deliciously confident. And worst of all? Underneath that salty exterior he’s starting to show signs of sweet.

  Brad Hamilton is my guilty pleasure, my cheat meal, my greatest craving.

  Which is why he’ll be one habit that’s hard to kick.