I didn't give myself another second to overthink. I bowed my head, brought my tongue to her clit, and pushed two fingers inside her. The resulting sound was not one of pain but I still went easy on her. No biting, no hard thrusting, no teasing at her backside. None of that until specifically requested. But fuck me, did her body feel good. My god, I loved the pulse of her clit against my tongue. And the taste of her, Jesus Christ. Nothing better.
"Oh my god," she whispered, her hand curling around my collar. "I'm—you were right about this being the fastest route because I'm—oh my god, I've missed this so much and don't stop and don't stop and don't stop—and ahhhh."
As if I could forget.
I licked her through the last tremors of her orgasm, kissing and sucking until she pressed her legs together and said, "No more. Please. I won't want to leave if you keep going and I really need us to leave."
I kissed her leg down to her knee before helping her step into her panties. "I don't know what's going on here," I said as I straightened her dress, "but I like it. More, please."
I tugged my shirt over my head, wiped the fabric over my damp lips. But I didn't stand up. Couldn't. Not with this view.
She pinched the dress between her fingers. "Yeah? It looks good?"
"You know that's not what I'm talking about." I batted her hand away from the fabric. "I love it when you're bossy. When you're dirrrrty. When you don't give a fuck whether your mother is in our bedroom while you're sucking my cock. When you remind me to get my head out of my ass and put it between your legs."
She glanced away, a smile tugging at her lips. "It's nice to hear you say it."
I pushed to my feet. "I'll say it any time you need to hear it." I traced her deep-cut neckline. "But I was serious about needing a scarf and jacket if you think the Commodore is letting you out of the house like this."
* * *
~~
* * *
Lauren surveyed the hip farm-to-table restaurant, nodding to herself. "This is a big improvement over The Red Hat." She glanced back at me with a sweet smirk. "You've stepped up your game."
I held my arms out wide. "How could I not? In the eternal words of my brother, I was shambles back then."
She pushed her hair over her shoulder, tucked it behind her ear. "You were not shambles." She stared at the water goblets between us, her gaze unfocused. "God. We were so young. So young." With a laugh, she shook her head. "And eager. As if we had to conquer the world then and there, before it got away from us."
"I was concerned you were going to get away from me," I replied.
She traced the base of her goblet, her finger traveling the circumferences once, twice. "That was never an option. Not really."
"Finally. The truth comes out," I muttered.
"I just…I just didn't know how to manage all the big things in my life," she admitted, her words turning a bit wistful. "It felt like all or nothing."
"But I love that about you," I said. "I love that you dive in head first. I love that you don't do anything halfway because you just don't know how." I reached for her goblet, moved it to the side so I could lace my fingers with hers. "I love that you made me work for it."
"Let's not get carried away." She smiled down at our joined hands. "I barely recognize that version of us anymore."
"Do you miss it?" I asked.
"Parts of it, yeah. I miss being self-involved, you know? Focusing only on my interests and goals, and negotiating with myself about buying fancy underwear and eating chocolate for breakfast. Being the center of my universe and worrying only about myself. You can't be self-involved when you get married, when you have a baby. You stop being the center of your universe. You have other universes." She gave me a shy smile. "But I don't miss the sense I didn't know what I was doing. It's not like I know what I'm doing now," she said, laughing. "But it's different. Somehow."
"It is different," I agreed. "I know you'll be there every night when I come home." I jerked a shoulder up. "Unless you're out drinking with Shannon."
"There's not too much of that happening now that she's pregnant. Again." Lauren gave a tiny, bewildered headshake. "I don't understand how she does it. We have one and we're shambles."
"I know," I replied, more emphatic than strictly necessary. "She's fielding a basketball team like it's nothing and we're falling apart with one little insomniac on our hands."
"Maybe that's all we need," she said, squeezing my fingers. "One little insomniac."
"What about five kids and two dogs like we discussed?"
"Say that again and I will stab you with this spoon," Lauren replied, her free hand curling around the cutlery.
I reached across the table, prying the silverware from her grip. "I was joking," I said. "It was a terrible joke. Awful timing. Wrong tone. Forgive me."
Her lips twisted with doubt. "Really?"
"Yes," I replied, patting the tabletop as if that gesture would add credence to my words. "I'll do anything you want. Sweetness, you know that. But god help me, my world fell apart the day Maddie arrived. Watching you—not being able to do anything to help you—my world collapsed. And then they put our little girl in my arms." I shook my head to ward off the wave of emotion accompanying that memory. "I held her and my world came back together."
"And you don't want to do that again." She stared at me, her gaze intent, as if she was digging through everything I'd said to unearth the truth.
"I'll do anything you want," I repeated. I meant that. Even if I wanted Lauren all to myself, I'd sooner die than deny her anything.
The waiter arrived to take our drink orders and discuss the evening's featured dishes but Lauren never stopped staring at me.
Once we were alone again, she said, "We don't have to decide anything right now. Regardless of my mother's suggestions, we can wait. Revisit this topic in a few months. Maybe a few years." She lifted a shoulder. "Maybe…not at all." She glanced away. "But please don't tell me you'll do whatever I want. Tell me what you want."
I leaned closer to her, moving everything out of my way. Plates, napkins, goblets, everything. I didn't want anything between us right now. "I want you," I said. "I want you. Nothing else matters to me."
"Says the man with blowjob brain."
"Yeah, that's accurate," I replied. "But I knew that before you dragged me into the closet."
"There was no dragging. You went there willingly," she remarked.
"Because I want you." I took both her hands in mine, squeezed as if I could send my words through skin and into her heart because that was where I needed them. "There was a time when we talked about five kids. The house, the kids, the dogs. We were doing it, nothing was going to slow us down. And it made sense too. I'm one of six, you're one of three. Siblings are a way of life for us."
"I know," she said softly, her brow crinkling. "That's why—that's why this is difficult."
I shook my head. "How many cousins does Maddie have now? Three? Another on the way?"
"As far as I know, yes," she agreed. "Andy was drunk this afternoon so I don't think she's on the list. Erin's holding off another year or so. Tiel says she's out of the game."
"And how many weddings do we have coming up?"
She stared at the reclaimed wood table for a second. "Riley is up first. The Walshes take over Tahoe. That's going to be a time. Then Magnolia. After everything she's been through, that girl deserves the biggest party. I can't wait for that wedding. After that, there's Jordan and April's wedding which will be crawling with Navy SEALs. I wonder if she's decorating her own cake." A squeak sounded in her throat. "And Wes. I'm sure he'll make it official sooner or later. I'm not rushing him. I'm just happy he's alive and fully recovered."
"That's a lot of weddings."
"It is," Lauren agreed. "I'm excited. I'm excited for the things to come."
I nodded. "And the babies. Maddie has plenty of cousins and more on the way. She doesn't need a load of siblings to have a big, loud family. We don't have to make more babies just b
ecause we thought it sounded like a good idea at one point. We can love the one we have, and love each other." I rubbed my thumb over the backside of her rings. "I've missed you so much. I can't lose you again."
"You won't lose me," she replied. "But I'm afraid you'll forget how to love me like you're in love with me. That was how I felt, Matthew. Like you didn't see me, didn't want me, didn't need me the way I needed you."
I studied her as if I hadn't seen her in years. I saw the same green eyes flecked with gold, the same blonde hair she shared with our daughter, the same sweet smile with a dash of sin. It reminded me of the first time I'd set eyes on her. A crisp autumn day, a dilapidated church, a pair of leopard-print heels. I'd loved her right from the start. I'd loved her and chased her and kept her but this woman right here—the one who held my world in the palm of hand—she was the one who kept me.
"I'll never let you feel that way again, sweetness," I said, lifting her hands to my lips. "Never."
5
Lauren
The drive home from dinner was quiet. Matthew kept his hand on my thigh while he drove and I kept my hand wrapped around his forearm. This was good. This was everything I needed.
Our life was different now and we were different too but when all the layers of adulting and marriage and parenthood slipped away, we were the same people we'd always been. All the things swirling around me—the new house, the new kid, the new roles—didn't change anything. Nothing that truly mattered.
And nothing beat the power of giving a good blowjob.
Matthew pulled into the driveway, squeezing my thigh when the car stopped. "How was that for an evening out, Mrs. Walsh?"
I glanced up at our suburban house, the one Matthew tore apart and rebuilt just in time for Madeleine's arrival. "It was perfect, Mr. Walsh. Thank you for indulging me."
"I look forward to indulging in you soon." He pointed at the dashboard clock. "By my estimation, we're looking at one more feeding tonight before Maddie will fight her way to sleep. I'll take this shift if you promise to wear nothing but those little panties to bed. And listen"—he brought his hand to my face, running his thumb over my lips—"if I do ruin them, you'll just have to replace them."
I lifted a shoulder. Let it fall. I hadn't shopped for fancy undies in ages. Not since functionality became my primary goal. "I guess I could do that."
"Yes, you can," he replied, his thumb on my bottom lip. "Now, let's get to work. I will do whatever it takes to get inside you within the next hour."
"You have a high level plan," I said. "But we need to talk logistics before we go anywhere. We can't have sex with the baby in the bedroom and we haven't transitioned her into her room yet."
"Lauren," he started, exasperation thick in his voice, "she's not going to…notice. She doesn't understand object permanence. She won't understand what we're doing and it's not like she's going to remember either."
"Matthew. Seriously. Assuming she sleeps through it, I don't want her first word to be cocksucker."
"That's reasonable," he said with a shrug. "Where does that leave us? The shower? The closet?" He rapped his fist against the steering wheel. "Better yet, we'll put the bassinet in the bathroom."
"This sounds like the beginning of a blog post recounting the awful ways couples made time for each other after the baby arrived."
"Sweetness, I designed every inch of this house. That bathroom is fully insulated and ventilated. It's as secure as any other room under this roof. There's not a single reason why she'd be anything but safe in there."
"It just sounds bad," I said. "Locking our kid in the bathroom to have sex is not a precedent I want to set."
"I never said a word about locking her in there," he muttered. "Just wheel her in and close the door halfway. Not even fully shut. Just enough for—for her to have a normal vocabulary."
"Sure, sure," I agreed. "But this is the sort of thing one of us will accidentally mention and then we'll be the people who lock the baby in the bathroom. I don't want to be those people."
"Would you rather be the people who drive out to one of my vacant properties and have sex in the backseat until the local police roll up with sirens and flashlights? Because we don't give Sam enough shit for that."
"No, thank you." I gazed at his hand on my thigh, the tiny circles his thumb drew on my skin. "So, assuming we slide her bassinet into the bathroom and leave the door unlocked, are we prepared for that? Do we have any"—I peeked up at him—"condoms?"
He rubbed a hand over his forehead, laughing. "As a matter of fact, we have a fresh supply as of this afternoon," he said. "Even better, Patrick was kind enough to explain the mechanics of pulling out."
I held up a finger. "That doesn't always work."
"Go ahead and tell him that," Matthew replied. "I won't be revisiting the conversation."
"I'll save that action item for tomorrow," I said. "All right. We're going inside, feeding the baby, and then—"
"We know what we're doing, Lauren." He unlatched my seatbelt. "Come on. Let's go do it."
* * *
~~
* * *
Thank you. Thank you for reading. Thank you for loving this family enough to want one more look into their lives. Thank you for four years with the Walshes.
And now, the important questions…
Will there be more Walsh books? I can't answer that for sure. Maybe? I don't know. I'm not saying no but I am saying there are a lot of new characters I'd like you to meet too.
Will there be more extended epilogues from the Walshes? Anything is possible. I don't have another one planned right now but anything is possible.
Magnolia is getting married?!? Will she get her own book? Yes. Look for it in early 2019. Better yet, take a peek at the first chapters by visiting Book+Main.
And Wes?!? Wes is the wild card, y'all. His story has never pulled me out of a deep sleep or yelled at me while I was writing a different book. But anything is possible.
Just One More Thing…
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Visit my private reader group, Kate Canterbary’s Tales, for exclusive giveaways, sneak previews of upcoming releases, and book talk.
Before Girl
A sexy new standalone arriving November 2018
Join my newsletter to receive an alert when this title is available.
She's the girl next door.
He's the guy who's loved her from afar.
They're in for an unexpected tumble into love.
She'll juggle your balls.
For Stella Allesandro, chaos is good. She's a rising star at a leading sports publicity firm. She's known throughout the industry as the jock whisperer—the one who can tame the baddest of the bad boys in professional sports without losing her signature smile.
* * *
But Cal Hartshorn is an entirely different kind of chaos.
* * *
He'll fix your broken heart.
This ex-Army Ranger and now-famous cardiothoracic surgeon fails at nothing…except talking to a woman he's adored from afar. Whether on the battlefield or operating room, he's exacting, precise, and efficient, but all of that crumbles when Stella is in sight.
* * *
Cal always knows—and gets—what he wants, and now he wants all of her.
* * *
His forever girl.
* * *
But Stella isn't convinced she's anyone's forever.
Also By Kate Canterbary
Standalone Novels
Coastal Elite
Fresh Catch
Hard Pressed
Before Girl — coming in 2018
The Walsh Series
Underneath It All – Matt and Lauren
The Space Between – Patrick and Andy
Necessary Restorations – Sam and Tiel
The Cornerstone – Shannon and Will
Restored — Sam and Tiel
The Spire — Erin and Nick
Preservation — Riley and Alexandra
Thresholds — The Walsh Family
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Get exclusive sneak previews of upcoming releases through Kate's newsletter and private reader group, The Canterbary Tales, on Facebook.
Acknowledgments
I want to thank Jessica Fletcher for making me believe in small towns and craggy lobstermen, and my grandmother for introducing me to Mrs. Fletcher.
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I’d also like to thank Lynn Faust, the leading expert on fireflies in the Smoky Mountain region.
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Finally, my husband’s support (and patience and tolerance for me typing in bed at two in the morning) is the most important ingredient in all of my books.
About Kate
Kate Canterbary doesn't have it all figured out, but this is what she knows for sure: spicy-ass salsa and tequila solve most problems, living on the ocean—Pacific or Atlantic—is the closest place to perfection, and writing smart, smutty stories is a better than any amount of chocolate. She started out reporting for an indie arts and entertainment newspaper back when people still read newspapers, and she has been writing and surreptitiously interviewing people—be careful sitting down next to her on an airplane—ever since. Kate lives on the water in New England with Mr. Canterbary and the Little Baby Canterbary, and when she isn't writing sexy architects, she's scheduling her days around the region's best food trucks.
The Walsh Brothers Page 89
