When I'm with You (Hope Town #3)

by Harper Sloan

  “I’m not sorry that he died. I just wish I would have been the one to end his life.”

  I smile sadly. “Yeah, then he would have taken you away from me anyway.”

  “Never,” he says heatedly.

  “It could have been worse, Nate. I don’t want to downplay it, but I also don’t want to give what he did any more power by continuing to let it affect me—us. His death means we get instant closure, and as we start this new chapter in our lives, we do it without anyone being able to taint it.”

  “God, you’re one strong woman.”

  “Nate.” I smile with a sigh. “Don’t you see? When I’m with you, there isn’t anything I can’t overcome.”

  His eyes close at my words. When he opens them again, I feel a lump of emotion form in my throat. There is so much love hitting me from just that look alone.

  “Promise me, Ember, that if you start to feel the darkness of what happened ever touch you, you’ll tell me. I don’t care how big or small those shadows might be; I want you to know that I’m here to shield you and protect you from anything.”

  He brushes a tear from my cheek and I nod. “I promise, honey.”

  When he pulls me forward, I brace myself with my palms to his chest and open my mouth to deepen our kiss the second our lips touch. He doesn’t make any move to take things further than the intimacy of our kiss, but the second his tongue slides against mine, I know I need to feel all of him.

  Breaking away from him with a small shove, both of our chests rising rapidly, I quickly pull the shirt up and over my head. The desperation I feel to be filled by him hits a fever pitch, and I shift my hips until I can place my feet on the ground to stand before him. I rip my panties down my legs at the same time he lifts off the back of the couch and silently pulls his shirt off. I rock on my feet while he pulls at the waistband of his sweatpants. The second his erection springs out, I pounce, not even giving him a chance to get his sweats past mid-thigh.

  When I get back in his lap, his shaft hits my folds, and I moan deep in my chest. I thread my fingers into his hair and pull him to me as I restart our kiss. There is no slow speed for us right now. No need for a gentle buildup of seduction with our hands. We both need this, his hunger just as fierce as mine is.

  I push off the couch with my knees, and he helps me with one hand at his cock. When I sink down on his length, we both cry out. My body welcomes his thickness with a tight hug as our lips feast on each other.

  No words are needed. His normal control-fueled demands are silent. He lets my body set the pace only tightening his hold on my hips when my pleasure becomes too much to handle and I lose the ability to make love to him. He bottoms out with each thrust of his hips off the couch, hitting something so deep inside me that I swear I could pass out from the intensity of that alone.

  This is so much more than just making love to each other. I’ve never imagined that our already powerful bond could grow, but as my body clamps around him with a hoarse cry from my lips, he thunders out his release as his heat fills me.

  I know at that moment what we just shared was our souls colliding with the power of our love, solidifying our unbreakable and unshakable bond. A bond that guarantees we will only feel the beauty of it as long as we’re together.

  “I love you with everything I am, Ember.”

  “As do I, Nate. As do I.”

  SIX MONTHS AND SIXTEEN DAYS LATER

  I CAN’T HAVE AN ERECTION at the altar.

  I can’t have an erection at the altar.

  I can’t have an erection at the altar.

  “I can’t have an erection at the altar.”

  “Uh, I’m thinking you probably shouldn’t think about having one at the altar, either.”

  I turn my head from where Ember will be walking at any second and give Cohen confused look. Shane, my other groomsman, is having a hard time holding in his laughter. Cohen, the bastard, laughs softly as he looks around the church, and shifts a little closer to me.

  “You have been mumbling about not getting hard for the last five minutes. I figured you might want to shut up with all that before your bride-to-be makes her walk down the aisle or you’ll be saying ‘I’m hard’ instead of ‘I do.’”

  “Fuck,” I hiss.

  “Yeah, probably shouldn’t say that either.”

  Before I can think of a comeback, the soft music, which had been playing since I stepped out from some secret room on the side of the altar, changes.

  “Get ready,” Cohen whispers, straightening himself up.

  I don’t turn to look at him. Instead, I watch as Molly and Owen start walking down the aisle. Owen, giving no fucks whatsoever, starts some weird run waddle thing. Hell, I don’t blame him. I don’t even want to be wearing this damn monkey suit, so I can’t imagine the little dude does either.

  My mom, laughing softly, stands from her front-row seat and kneels at the end of the aisle. Owen runs right to her while laughing his ass off.

  I look back at where Molly is still standing in the doorway to the sanctuary. Only this time, she looks annoyed that Owen doesn’t know how to do his ‘job.’ Finally realizing that the attention is back on her, she wipes the snotty look off her face and her beautiful smile takes over. Never one to miss a moment to shine, she starts tossing the flower petals from her basket all fancy-like, almost falling on her ass because she’s twirling with each toss. Hell, I’m shocked she didn’t demand to wear the tiara she’s been sporting since Ember showed her what her flower girl dress looked like.

  She looks like a mini-bride. The white dress is puffed out around her with some shiny beads or something all over the top, straps, and skirt. But that smile alone is worth the ridiculous price Ember paid for that thing.

  Molly’s had a hard time adjusting to my and Ember’s relationship. She’s always loved Ember, but when she realized what Ember was to me, there was some weird jealousy for a while. Ember took it in stride, but I hated it. Molly might not be my blood niece, but I love her like she was. Luckily, she realized real quick that just because she isn’t number one in my heart, she still has a big place.

  It didn’t hurt that I spent four hours letting her paint my face and nails with all that girly shit. And took her to the movies dressed like a goddamn princess.

  “Nate! I look like a princess,” she whisper-yells before standing next to Maddi and Dani on the other side of the little stage we’re all on.

  I give her a wink but look away the second I hear the music change again and the pastor asking everyone to stand.

  I can’t have an erection at the altar.

  I can’t have an erection at the altar.

  I can’t have an erection at the altar.

  Then I see her.

  The woman that, for almost a year, has shown me a love that almost brings me to my knees daily.

  All previous thoughts disappear from my mind when I get my first good look at her. The skintight white dress fits her mouthwatering curves like a glove. The tiny straps at her shoulders look like they would snap with one tug by me.

  Maybe with my teeth. I’ll have to try that later.

  The small flare that starts at her knees comes up slightly at the bottom when she takes her first step, and I can just see the tip of a sparkly shoe.

  My eyes roam back up the white fabric, following the intricate lace design until I’m looking at her chest. She takes another step, and they bounce. I have to look away before I embarrass myself.

  When I see her face, though, that’s when I feel like my heart might stop. She’s crying, and even though I know it’s because she’s over the moon happy right now, I hate seeing her tears. But it’s the look of pure fucking love, for me, that has my heart restarting and thumping wildly in my chest. Each step she takes makes the rhythm crank up until I feel like I can’t breathe.

  I swat at my cheeks when I feel my own emotion trickling from my eyes. I have no shame in my tears, not one fucking ounce. I want the world to see what this woman does to me.

&n
bsp; When she takes her next step, bringing her to my side, I have to swallow the huge lump in my throat. The pastor says something, I couldn’t tell you what, and she continues to smile through her tears at me.

  “Her mother and I do,” I hear.

  I lose her beautiful face when she turns, and for the first time since she walked through that doorway, I see her father. He kisses her temple and pulls her into a hug while looking over her shoulder at me. I’m not sure what I expected from him right now, but seeing his own eyes wet wasn’t even in the realm of possibilities. Hell, I was still anticipating him coming down the aisle guns blazing and refusing to give her away.

  Ember steps back and he straightens. Instead of turning to go sit next to his wife, he reaches his hand out. I close mine around his and almost fall on my face when he pulls me forward. His hand tightens as he pulls his other around me with a strong smack against my back.

  Then his head turns slightly. “I couldn’t be more proud that my girl found a man worthy of her. You’re a great man, Nate. Enjoy this blessed life.”

  He steps away, and I watch his back until he sits next to Emmy. She hands him a tissue and he wipes at his eyes, eyes that I notice are now letting those tears fall freely.

  I give him a nod and then … then I turn.

  “Hey,” she whispers.

  My mouth twitches, and I whisper back, “You look hot.”

  Her eyes widen, and I notice my mistake instantly when I hear the pastor clear his throat into the mic. I just shrug, not ashamed at all because she does look hot.

  With her hand in mine, not even hearing a damn thing that is said, I follow the cues and speak when I’m told. The whole time my heart grows a little bigger, filling my chest until I’m convinced it will burst.

  “And I now pronounce you man and wife. Nate, you may kiss your bride.”

  She’s in my arms before he finishes. I get an ear full of flowers when she wraps her arms around my neck, and I tighten my hold around her waist to bring her up off her feet.

  And I kiss my wife deeply and thoroughly.

  I would have kept kissing her, had I not gotten a nudge on my back. I make a mental note to kill Cohen later, then place her gently back down on the ground. Her lipstick is slightly smudged, and when her free hand comes up to wipe at my lips, I’m sure I’m wearing some now too.

  Her eyes dance, and she smiles up at me before crooking a finger at me.

  She turns obviously wiser than I am when it comes to the damn mic and I feel her breath against my ear. “You said not a day over six months and I should have believed you … Daddy.”

  I can’t move.

  I’m not even sure I’m breathing.

  Nope, I’m lightheaded, definitely not breathing.

  “It’s my pleasure to now introduce to you, Mr. and Mrs. Nathaniel Gregory Reid.”

  I hear the pastor talk, but fuck if I’m not dumbstruck.

  Her giggles bring me back to my senses, and I have to choke back a sob as I stand to my full height to look down at her. She’s smiling through her tears as she wipes my own away with her finger.

  “Come on, husband.”

  “I didn’t think I could ever love you more, but you proved me wrong, wife.”

  I turn, the tears still falling, and after her arm loops through the crook of my waiting elbow, we walk down the aisle. This isn’t the first time I’ve felt the intoxicating power that loving her brings me, and it damn well won’t be the last.

  EIGHT MONTHS AND SEVEN DAYS LATER

  “I’M NEVER LETTING YOU PUT a baby in me again!”

  I bite my tongue when her hand clamps down on mine with the strength of ten men. Fucking hell, I think she might actually break my hand before she gives birth.

  “Okay, firecracker. No more babies.”

  Hell, I would agree with her if she told me the sky was purple and the grass was black at this point. Anything to get her to stop looking at me like the devil has possessed her body.

  Her eyes tear, and her face changes. Instead of anger, she looks like I just told her that all the puppies in the world are dead. “You don’t want more babies with me?”

  I look over at the doctor between her legs when he snickers, and I try to figure out how to answer that without pissing her off more. Her hand tightens as another contraction hits, and the doctor tells her to push. I welcome the pain of my crushing bones since they just saved me from potentially saying something to make her head start spinning.

  “That’s great, Ember. One more just like that.”

  “Good job, baby,” I soothingly say. “Just a few more.”

  I hope.

  Almost thirty minutes later, Ember is worn out and still pushing like a champ. I know everyone warned us that this takes time, but seeing her in so much pain is killing me.

  “One more, Ember. One more strong push.”

  I tighten the hold I have on one of her legs. She takes a deep breath and lifts her back off the hospital bed, curling into her round stomach. Her face reddens and she clamps her eyes tight as she pushes with every ounce of strength she has left. I count like I was told to and push her sweat-dampened hair out of her face with my free hand.

  She falls back the second a loud cry starts to fill the room. She looks up, a tired smile on her face, and I bend to kiss her lips.

  “It’s a girl!” the doctor announces and then places our baby on Ember’s chest.

  I blink a few times to clear the emotion out of my eyes and give her another kiss before looking down at our child.

  For the second time in my life, I gave my heart away. When I looked down at the cone-headed, blood-and-white-goo-covered, scrunched-in-anger face … I fell head over heels in love with our daughter.

  I’m not sure who was crying more by the time the nurses took her off Ember’s chest to clean her up—Ember, me, or the baby. When I looked down, torn with staying at her side or going with the baby, Ember just reached out and gave me a shove.

  One more kiss to my wife’s lips, and I stumbled like I was drunk over to where the nurses were working on my still very angry daughter. I stood by, my heart in my chest, and watched them. I feel powerless as she continues to cry, getting more pissed as they wipe her skin, and I have to clench my fists so I don’t knock them all to the ground and steal my child back.

  Then, finally, I hear the words I’ve been waiting to hear since Ember told me she was pregnant.

  “Would you like to hold your daughter?”

  I nod, I think, and hold my arms up as she places her into the safety of her daddy’s arms. Her cries stop almost instantly as I make my way over to Ember. I got one glance at the doctor still working between her legs, and I quickly covered my shock at what I saw coming out of my wife before Ember noticed.

  “Hey, Mommy,” I say softly to Ember, bending down to place the baby in her arms.

  “Oh, Nate,” she coos. “She’s so beautiful.”

  I run my fingertip over her satiny-smooth cheek. “Yeah,” I weakly respond.

  “So tiny,” she muses.

  I pull my eyes from our daughter and look at Ember. She’s smiling down at her with pure wonderment. Once again, my chest swells with love as I see my woman holding our girl. The two most important ladies in my world are right in front of me.

  “Thank you, Emberlyn.” My voice wavers and she stops kissing our baby to look up at me. “You’ve once again made me the happiest man in the world. Thank you for providing me this kind of love and for giving us the most beautiful little girl.”

  “Oh, honey.”

  I bend over the bedrail and give her a deep kiss. When I pull away, I bend to bring my lips to our daughter’s forehead.

  “Quinnly Grace,” I softly mummer. “We’re going to love you so much, baby. Mommy and Daddy are so happy you’re here.”

  SIX MONTHS AND TWO WEEKS LATER

  “WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT me like that?” I drop my brush and turn to look where Nate is standing in the doorway of our bathroom.

  “Wh
at way?”

  I roll my eyes. “Like you’re starving.”

  He pushes off the door jam and starts to stalk toward where I’m standing in front of the vanity. “Quinnie is sleeping,” he rasps. “I miss your belly round with my baby, Em. My little queen is growing too fast and she told me she wants a sister.” The gravelly tone to his voice is working its magic on my body even though I’m determined not to give in.

  I hold the brush between us like a weapon. “Oh, she did, huh?”

  He nods.

  “Our daughter, the one who can only babble and drool, told you she wants a sister?”

  He nods, his smile turning wicked.

  “She’s just now crawling, Nate. We agreed, two years between children.”

  He takes another step, frowning now.

  “I’m going to give her what she wants.”

  “You mean what you want.” I laugh, dropping the brush when he pulls me into his arms.

  “I don’t see a difference here.”

  His mouth drops to mine in one hell of a toe-curling kiss. I find my protests falling on deaf ears when he pulls my sundress over my head and cups my naked breasts; the feel of his hands on me never fails to render me incapable of speech.

  “Are you going to give us what we want?” he whispers against my neck, trailing his tongue down to my shoulder to give me a light nip of his teeth.

  “Usually, it’s the woman with the ticking biological clock, you know?”

  His soft chuckles tickle my skin. “You knew I wanted a house full of babies, Em. The way you look when you’re pregnant, I can’t even put it into words. Just knowing that you’re growing our love in there unmans me. Straight to my knees, baby.”

  “Quinnly is so little, Nate,” I weakly add, and judging by the ear-splitting grin on his face, he knows I’m going to give him what he wants.