Wrapped in Lace

by Lane, Prescott

  “Quick thinking.”

  “So, will you do it? Will you marry me again?”

  I giggled. “This has got to be a record or something. How many times can one guy propose in twenty-four hours?” I shook my head at him. “Of course, I’ll marry you again.”

  “At least you said yes quicker this time,” he teased me. My eyes looked out to the darkness surrounding us, hearing the waves crashing. “You need to know, don’t you?”

  “Don’t you?”

  “Piper, I Googled it. At most, we conceived seven days ago. It takes at least two weeks for those tests to work. It’s going to be negative now, even if you are pregnant. It’s too early.”

  “I just feel like we have so many decisions to make, and we can’t make them without knowing.”

  “Where to live?” he asked.

  “When we have kids, it would be nice to be close to family, but I know your life, your business is in Raleigh. I’m worried about Granddaddy and my job. I can’t just quit in the middle of the year, but you can’t move your life quickly, so either way, we are going to be apart and I hate that and. . . .”

  “Piper, I’m moving my business home to McAdenville. I’ll do it as quickly as I can. I don’t want to live apart, either.”

  “You make it sound so easy, and I know it’s not. You have employees and contacts and a workshop and your house and. . . .”

  He wrapped his arms around me. “And you. And you are in McAdenville.”

  “What about Rob and Ellie?” I asked. I didn’t want Ellie trying to interfere in our lives.

  “Rob and I are on better ground. Ellie is just Ellie.”

  “I don’t want to have to deal with her.”

  “I know. Believe me, I know. But we aren’t making this decision because of them. I’ve done that too long. We will live where we think it’s best for us and our family.” His finger grazed my belly.

  “Ok,” I said sweetly. “You want me to be pregnant, don’t you?”

  His smile warmed my heart. “Kinda.”

  I slapped him playfully. “You are insane.”

  “You don’t want to be? Even a little?” he asked.

  “I’m not as scared as I was, but. . . .” I paused for a minute. “Maybe a little.”

  “It’s nice to think about,” Drew said. “I’d like to have you all to myself for a few years, but the idea of you carrying my child. . . .” His eyes welled up. I couldn’t believe it. I’d never seen him cry, not even as kids. Not when he broke his arm riding bikes, or failed his algebra test. Never! “The idea just makes me happy.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  SPRING

  DREW

  Going at least twenty miles over the speed limit, I flew past the welcome sign to McAdenville. I grinned because I couldn’t seem to get home fast enough. As much as it sucked to be away from Piper, I’d been traveling back and forth between Raleigh and McAdenville every week for the past few months, but this was the last time. I wasn’t leaving her again anytime soon.

  I looked in my rearview mirror. Raleigh was a distant memory. It had been much easier than I thought to relocate my business to McAdenville. I would still have to do some traveling, but Piper would be coming with me as soon as school was out. The nursery collection had taken off, and Piper was leaving her teaching job to take over her namesake full-time. Thank God, I really needed her. She was way more patient with the indecision of pregnant females than I was, probably because, for a few weeks, she was convinced she was one.

  It turned out that Piper wasn’t pregnant. I’d held her while she cried, waiting for those results, and I held her while she cried after we found out she wasn’t pregnant. When I asked her why she was crying, she’d said she wasn’t ready to be a mother just yet, but she realized that she wanted to have my baby someday. Had to say, that brought a tear to my eye. I wanted her to have my babies someday, too.

  I pulled in front of the old Harlow place, now my place—my home with Piper. I hopped out of my truck and headed to the workshop in the back—our workshop, the new home to Landon Designs and The Piper Collection. I was hoping Piper was inside waiting for me, then my phone dinged.

  Piper: Don’t be late to our wedding!

  My mom and dad almost killed me when they found out we eloped, so they were throwing us a “proper” wedding this weekend. I figured why the hell not; it only meant I could take Piper on another honeymoon.

  Me: Where are you?

  Piper: Granddaddy’s. You aren’t supposed to see the bride on her wedding day.

  Me: We’re already married, plus I haven’t seen you all week.

  Piper: In that case, I believe we are both due for multiple screaming orgasms.

  God, I loved her so much. She was the perfect blend of sweet and sexy. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on her.

  Piper: I left my wedding gift to you in the office.

  Damn, I didn’t get her a wedding gift, and I didn’t have time now. I wanted to buy her a diamond this time around, but she refused to tell me what she even liked, insisting my grandparents’ bands meant more to her than any diamond ever could. I hate it when women do that—say they don’t want a gift then buy you one. Now, I felt like an asshole. I walked through the workshop to my little office in the back. There was an easel set up with a sheet over it. I flicked on the light, smiling. She must have made me a painting. I started for the sheet when my phone rang. “Hey, I’m just about to lift the sheet,” I answered the phone.

  “I’m nervous,” Piper said softly. “I took it myself and well. . . . I’m. . . .”

  “I figured it was a painting.”

  “No, it’s a photograph. Maybe don’t look at it,” she said.

  There was no way I couldn’t look at it, especially now. I held the phone with one hand and slipped the sheet down with my other. “Holy shit!”

  “Drew, I told you not to look,” Piper scolded me.

  I stared at the image, a black and white photograph of Piper sitting on the edge of our bed. Her back was to the camera, her head to the side so I could just see her profile. The picture was lit from the front, creating beautiful shadows across her body—her naked body. She was only wearing a white lace thong with nothing else covering her, but a thin wedding veil trimmed in lace—exposing her beautiful back and the curve of her hips and waist. It was tastefully sexy, but I knew this was for my eyes only.

  “Drew, please say something,” Piper said quietly.

  I’d forgotten I was holding the phone. “I’m. . . . I don’t know. . . .” I couldn’t seem to catch my breath, to find any words. She always took my breath away. “It’s you. Wrapped in lace.”

  *

  I watched as her granddaddy took her hand, but I couldn’t quite see her yet. My mom was blocking my view as she fussed over Piper’s veil. Our second wedding was taking place under the old Magnolia tree in her granddad’s yard, where it all began over ten years ago—the site of our first kiss, and, ironically enough, also our second kiss. It couldn’t have been more perfect.

  My mom stepped away, and I got my first look at her. Piper was wearing the veil she photographed herself in. I saw her cheeks flush. She was a “bad girl,” and she was all mine. She loved to tease me like this. Our time apart each week was spent sending sexy messages, heightening our passion for each other.

  She walked towards me on a beautiful spring afternoon with only a handful of guests observing—her mom, my parents, Nana, Davis, Sabrina and Matt, and a few other friends. As a token of peace, we’d invited Rob, Ellie, Jack, and the twins, knowing that would mean a lot to my parents, but Rob had come alone with the kids. Piper and I didn’t care either way. This day, in fact, all our days, were focused on us.

  She walked down the aisle, and I could tell by the heat in her eyes that she knew exactly what she was doing to me wearing that veil at our ceremony. I had to remind myself to look at her dress. It was a simple, white lace slip dress, but it might as well have been a sack. I was only seeing her naked in the veil. M
y eyes finally landed on hers, and I smiled.

  I took her hand from her granddaddy and whispered, “My bad girl.”

  EPILOGUE

  CHRISTMAS DAY

  3 YEARS LATER

  DREW

  “One, two, three, four. Push, sweetheart, push. Five, six, seven, eight, nine, and ten.” I wiped her forehead as she tried to catch her breath.

  “I can’t do it, Drew. I can’t do it,” Piper cried out.

  I kissed her forehead, damp from sweat, then held her cheeks in my hands. She’d been pushing for almost two hours. I think everyone in the room was having their doubts about whether or not Piper could push our baby out, but I’d kill the first person who said so.

  “You’re doing great. Just a few more.”

  I didn’t bother to look at the nurse or doctor for confirmation. I didn’t really want to know if we had another two hours of this. I hated seeing my wife, my Piper, in pain. It was killing me. After twenty-two hours of labor, Piper informed me we were never doing this again, and at this point, that was totally fine with me. She was exhausted, emotional, hurting, and I was helpless to do a damn thing about it, except feed her ice chips and count her through the contractions.

  “A few more,” she said, nodding her head a little. “I can do a few more.”

  God, she was a trooper. I’d have demanded a C-section five minutes in. I looked over at her monitor. “Here comes another one. Ready?” The nurse got one leg, and I got the other, trying to help force the baby out. I started the damn counting again, watching Piper’s face turning red. Damn her for not taking the drugs.

  At this point, I just wanted my wife out of pain, but Piper had insisted we do everything natural. Little did she know, Nana hid a flask of bourbon in her purse. Every time I went to give the family an update, she’d sneak me a swig. I was a bartender’s son. What can you expect? And what Piper didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

  The doctor said something about the baby crowning, asking if I wanted to look. Hell, no hardly seemed appropriate, so I just shook my head. I kept my eyes on Piper’s face. She was watching the whole thing through some mirrors they had at the foot of the bed. I thought that was the craziest idea she’d ever come up with, but she managed to convince the hospital to let her do it.

  “Look, Drew. The baby is bald,” Piper said through ragged breaths.

  “I’ll see later,” I said.

  “Wimp,” she said, managing a little smile. “Can somebody go tell our family it’s getting close?” One of the nurses quickly excused herself. They’d all been great about keeping our friends and family updated, no doubt because Nana and my mom brought home-baked sweets to bribe them. They really were great, though. Our families had been there waiting so long, the nurses were now on our Christmas card list.

  My dad, mom, Nana, Rob, and the kids had all camped out. Even Piper’s mom was here for the event. I know that meant a lot to Piper, especially since her granddad passed away shortly after our second wedding. Neither Piper nor I could imagine having this baby anywhere else, or without our family. Ellie had chosen to stay away, which was how she handled most family events these days. That was difficult on Rob, but that was her choice.

  Sabrina and Matt were also spending their Christmas in the waiting room, along with their newborn son. I think Sabrina and Piper might have planned this whole thing, our babies being born within six weeks of each other. Our new mayor came, too. Davis wouldn’t have missed this moment for the world, dubbing himself our baby’s “gay uncle,” which always made Piper laugh. He and I actually became pretty good friends.

  They may not have been the family I thought I’d have growing up in McAdenville, but Piper and I had made up our own family. It was a crazy bunch, but they were ours and soon we’d be adding another member.

  “I need to push,” she groaned.

  “Again.” I pushed on her leg, watching her teeth gnash together as she pushed with everything she had left. Then I heard it, our baby’s first cry.

  *

  PIPER

  His face was priceless as he stared at our baby. I don’t think he was even aware that tears were rolling down his cheeks. I watched him cut the cord, his hand trembling. He’d been building things his whole life with a steady hand, but not this time. What he made this time rocked his soul. The nurse went to hand me the baby, but I motioned for her to give Drew his daughter.

  “I’ve held her for nine months. It’s Daddy’s turn,” I said, watching a few more tears fall down his face. His daughter had him wrapped around her pinky already. I could only hope it took her a few years to figure out what a wimp he was when it came to her.

  Drew’s blue eyes caught mine as he held our daughter like a pro. Laying her down in my arms, he kept a hand on her as he leaned over and kissed my forehead. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I can’t believe she was born on Christmas.”

  “You can never accuse me of having boring holidays,” I teased him, remembering the first time we made love on Christmas Day, our New Year’s Eve pregnancy scare, our New Year’s Day wedding—and now our Christmas baby.

  “Nothing is ever boring with you,” he said, staring down at us. “But this one better be a ‘good girl.’”

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I owe every book to some beverage. Sometimes it’s wine; other times it’s the hard stuff. I owe this book to Coke Icees. I’m not sure if the ice helped me with the winter theme or the caffeine just revved me up enough to get through it. More importantly, many thanks to my dear husband and children listening to me drone on and on about Piper and Drew (whom they now call Aunt and Uncle). A huge shout out to my sister, Kathy, and childhood friend, Dani Lee, for their helpful feedback and encouraging words. I don’t know how I’d survive without those girls. A big thank you to Tania Marinaro at Libros Evolution for the wonderful teasers, and to Rachel Lockwood for proofreading for me. And I can’t thank my editor, Nikki Rushbrook, enough for putting up with my allergy to commas and straight up fear of semi-colons. Thank you to Sarah Hansen at Okay Creations for my wonderful cover, which I just love. Much gratitude to Neda Amini at Ardent Prose for calmly handling my creative quirks at all hours of the day and night. And to all the bloggers (too many to name) who have ever done a post for me, a little shout out, a review, thank you for taking the time to help a relatively unknown author like me. Finally, and most importantly, thank you to everyone who read my first three books: First Position, Perfectly Broken, and Quiet Angel. I am very grateful and moved by the response they received. Your kinds words and beautiful messages mean the world. You are the reason why I write the stories in my head. Love you all.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  PRESCOTT LANE is originally from Little Rock, Arkansas, and graduated from Centenary College in 1997 with a degree in sociology. She went on to Tulane University to receive her MSW in 1998, after which she worked with developmentally delayed and disabled children. She currently lives in New Orleans with her husband, two children, and two dogs. She is also the author of First Position, Perfectly Broken, and Quiet Angel. Contact her at any of the following:

  www.authorprescottlane.com

  facebook.com/PrescottLane1

  twitter.com/prescottlane1

  instagram.com/prescottlane1

  pinterest.com/PrescottLane1