A Davenport Christmas: A Bad Boys Serial Novel (Always With You Book 1)

by Leighton, M.

  A Davenport Christmas:

  ALWAYS WITH YOU

  A Bad Boys Serial Novel

  Volume 1

  By

  M. Leighton

  Includes a first chapter preview of

  Pocketful of Sand

  Coming 3.15.15

  Copyright 2015, M. Leighton

  Cover photo by Curaphotography

  www.depositphotos.com

  http://www.mleightonbooks.com

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and storylines are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Other books by M. Leighton on Amazon

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  CHAPTER ONE- OLIVIA

  Dec 23

  I slump against the back of the toilet as I eye the plastic tube cradled in my palm.

  Negative.

  Again.

  I dread going out to tell Cash. He’ll be wonderful and loving and supportive, just like he’s been every time the test has been negative, but I know he’ll be disappointed. He hides it well, of course, but he’s so animated when he talks about us having a baby, I know it breaks his heart each time we aren’t successful.

  Each time I’m not successful.

  I take a deep, cleansing breath before I stand and walk to the door. I swing it open and a wedge of golden light pours out onto Cash where he’s propped up on a mountain of pillows waiting for me.

  His shoulders look like they’re a mile wide where they hover above his narrow waist. I follow the stair-step of his abs down to his equally trim hips. Only one is visible at the moment, as the other is hidden by the sheet draped diagonally across one leg. It gives him a mouthwateringly sexy, rumpled look. Under normal circumstances, I’d thoroughly explore all that is concealed by the soft, yellow cotton.

  But not tonight.

  Tonight I have bad news.

  I can see a bit of tension in his muscular chest and arms, like he’s holding himself at the ready to fly from the bed and take me in his arms to celebrate. But it’s his eyes that tell the story. The exotic black orbs are focused squarely on me and they’re still. Perfectly still. Like when a hush falls across a room in anticipation, anticipation of…something great.

  “Well?” he asks in his rich voice. His lips are starting to curve. He probably thinks I’m being dramatic so that I can surprise him.

  I feel my chin quiver as I hold up the tube for him to see. “Negative.”

  He doesn’t even glance at what’s in my hand. He simply crawls out of bed and takes me in his arms. “I’m sorry, baby,” he croons, petting my hair and raining kisses down the curve of my neck where his face is pressed.

  “I’m the one who’s sorry,” I tell him, a tremble in my voice. I’m trying so hard not to cry.

  Cash leans back, his brow furrowed. “Why are you sorry?”

  I have to wait for a few seconds to answer him. I have to collect myself so that I don’t start blubbering like a lunatic. “Because there must be something wrong with me.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re perfect. Maybe it’s me.”

  “It’s not you. It’s me. I…I can feel it,” I confess miserably. “A-and I know how much you want a b-baby.”

  Cash takes my face in his big hands and hunches down until he’s looking directly into my eyes. “Listen to me, Olivia Davenport. I love you. Whatever our future holds, I’ll only love you more every single day. Baby or no baby. And there’s always adoption if we can’t…if it doesn’t happen for us.”

  “But I know you want a child of our own.”

  He pauses. I know he wants to deny it, for my sake, but he won’t lie to me. “Yes, I do. Of course I do. To be able to hold a baby that we made together, a little girl who looks like her momma or a little boy who will grow up to protect you when I’m gone, I’d love that. But,” he says, his face going from soft as he spoke about our offspring to stern and determined as he tries to impress something upon me, “you will always be the love of my life. I don’t need anything else to be happy. I’m complete as long as I have you. You’re perfect. With or without a baby in your belly.”

  I can’t stop the tears this time. This–his understanding, his amazing love–just makes it even harder. It only makes me want to give him this one thing even more. “I want to give you a baby so bad,” I cry pitifully.

  “And you will,” he whispers, brushing my mouth with his. “You just have to stop stressing about it. It’ll happen. And don’t think for one second that I’m not enjoying the hell out of trying.”

  Cash deftly unfastens the single button of the shirt I’m wearing–his shirt–and pushes it from my shoulders. I’m not feeling very sexy, but I don’t have to tell him that. He’s so intuitive, he already knows. And it shows in the way he makes love to me, the way he kisses me with such tenderness, the way he holds me like I might break. Cash can be rough and wild in bed, nipping with his teeth and pushing me past the point of ecstasy, past what I think my body can take. But he knows it better than I do, and he plays it like an instrument he was made to master. I take him in willingly, all that he has to give. I revel in it, eating up every nuance of his attention. Every moment with him is pure bliss and wicked, wicked pleasure.

  But there are also times like these, when he speaks to me through his contact. When he tells me he loves me through every lick of his tongue. When he tells me that he needs me through every thrust of his body. And when it’s all said and done, and I’m lying in his arms, too limp to move, he tells me that it’s all going to be okay with every precious kiss that he sprinkles on my face.

  And it will. It will all be okay. I just have to trust in that.

  CHAPTER TWO- CASH

  Dec 24

  “Glad you could make it home for the holidays, man,” I tell Nash when he shows up in the door to my office at Dual. He thought maybe the winds would slow them down and they wouldn’t make Christmas, but evidently that didn’t happen.

  “
I am, too. Marissa was determined to get here in time. We, uh, we’ve got more to celebrate than baby Jesus.” He’s wearing a half-smile that reminds me again of how much he’s changed.

  “What’s the good news?” I ask, getting up and rounding my desk.

  “Marissa’s pregnant,” he announces, the half-smile turning into a full, thousand watt one.

  “Oh shit,” I blurt in dread. I drop my head into my hand as I lean against the edge of the desk. But then, when I realize how that must’ve sounded, I straighten and give my brother the smile he deserves. “I mean, congratulations, man. That’s great news!”

  I hug my brother, thumping him on the back a few times before I pull away. He’s still smiling, but now a frown is pulling his brows together. Obviously my initial reaction didn’t go unnoticed.

  “You sure? ‘Cause it doesn’t sound like you really mean that.”

  He’s not being a dick about it, which he probably has every right to be. Who wants good news to be received with an Oh shit of doom?

  “Yeah, I’m sure. Sorry about that. I just…Eh, it’s nothing.”

  Nothing except it’ll break Olivia’s heart and make her feel even worse about our situation.

  “Dude, we’re twins. I can read you better than you think. But seriously, a complete stranger wouldn’t believe a damn word you’re saying right now. What’s up?”

  “I don’t wanna rain on your parade, Nash. It’s nothing that we need to talk about when you’ve got this going on.”

  Rather than arguing, my brother just sits down in the chair by the door, reaches over to pull it shut and then crosses his arms over his chest as he stares at me.

  “Does this mean you’re not leaving until you get an answer?” He just smiles. I roll my eyes. “Fine,” I say as I walk back to sit back down behind my desk. I pick up the pen I was using, clicking and unclicking the button in agitation. This is touchy shit to be sharing with somebody else, even if he is my brother.

  “Ah hell, is it that bad?”

  I shrug. Maybe not to him, but it’s crushing Olivia a little more every month. And watching her go through this is damn near killing me.

  “We’ve been trying to pregnant for a while now. It’s just not happening.”

  “Oh,” Nash replies flatly. Yeah, now he gets it. “Well, if you need some pointers, I’d be glad to tell you how to get the job done.”

  I glance up at his smug face and go with my gut, which is to flip him the bird. “Asshole.”

  “Seriously, man, have you been checked out? You sure your swimmers are…swimmin’?”

  “Not yet. I’m afraid they will be.”

  “What? That doesn’t make a damn bit of sense.”

  I sigh. “Olivia thinks it’s her and she’s beating herself up about it. I keep telling her it’s probably me, but neither one of us has been checked. I’m afraid if I’m good and everything’s working right, it’ll make her feel even worse. She’s not taking this well.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, bro.” He sounds sincere and when I look up, he’s not smiling anymore.

  “I think she’s doing it to herself. I think she’s so uptight about it now, it won’t happen until she can relax.”

  “If you need some pointers on how to–”

  “You’re pushing your luck, douchebag. I’m not kidding.” I know he’s teasing, but I’m a little sensitive about it. I take anything involving Olivia very seriously. I’m supposed to be able to take care of her, to make her happy, to protect her. I feel like I’m failing her because I can’t fix this.

  “Look,” Nash says, leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees. “Why don’t you tell her to just put it out of her mind for the holidays? Marissa and I will keep the news about the baby to ourselves until the first of the year. Maybe Olivia will chill out not having to worry about it and it’ll just happen.”

  I nod, clicking and unclicking the button again. “Yeah. Sounds good. Thanks, man.” If only it will work.

  “No problem.” He takes a short pause. “But can I tell you something honestly? You gotta stop clicking that pen. I’m about to stab you in the jugular with it in about ten more seconds.”

  I jerk my head up. He’s half smiling again, but his teeth are gritted. I laugh. He laughs. It’s good to have someone I can be honest with, someone I can trust completely. Even if he does threaten to kill me with an office supply occasionally.

  “Maybe wait until after I can get her pregnant. Then if you can get it away from me, you can have at it.”

  “You think I can’t take you, little brother?”

  “I’m not sure who you’re calling little brother. Maybe we should ask your wife.”

  Nash’s lips thin. “You’ll stop right there if you’ve got even a little bit of brain left in that big-ass head of yours.”

  That will forever be a sore spot between us–Marissa. The fact that I was with his wife before he was (well, except for New Orleans) eats him up. I can see why, too. If the situation were reversed and he’d had a taste of Olivia…

  My blood boils just thinking about it. I guess being protective and possessive of our women is a Davenport thing. And we both got a healthy dose.

  CHAPTER THREE- OLIVIA

  “I figured a boy like that would have the most potent sperm known to man. Like the kind where he can just walk by your panties and get you pregnant,” Ginger says in her blunt, Ginger way.

  “That’s what worries me,” I admit, meeting her twinkling eyes with my own. “He probably does.”

  “Oh, honey,” she says, curling her fingers around mine where they rest on the little round table at the café where we’re having brunch. “You think it’s you?”

  “Of course I think it’s me. Like you said, Cash is so virile, so damn manly and alpha male, I can’t imagine this being his problem.”

  My best friend considers me. “What does he say about all this?”

  I exhale, but I don’t feel relieved. It’s like I’m holding a breath that I can never quite let out all the way. So much tension lately. I feel like I’m about to crack at any moment.

  It seems I can’t shake this feeling of dread, this feeling that I’m going to give Cash the biggest disappointment of his life. That I’ll be the biggest disappointment of his life.

  “He says it’s probably him. He tries to act like it’s no big deal, but I know it is. Ginger, he wants a baby so bad. It’s precious the way he gets so excited talking about it.” I have to pause when my eyes start to water and my chin starts to tremble. “He keeps telling me he’ll be fine either way, like he’s so casual about it, but he’s not. Not really. I know him better than that. He’s as disappointed as I am every time that stupid test comes back negative.”

  “Have either of you been to the doctor?”

  “Not yet. I think we’re both hesitant to make it real. At least I know I am. If they tell me I can’t have kids…”

  This time I can’t hold back the tears. They come out on a choked sob. When I bury my face in my hands, I wonder if they’ll ever stop at all.

  “Hey, hey, hey,” Ginger says, scooting her chair around to my side of the table where she can put one arm around me to give my shoulder a comforting pat. “It’s not the end of the world. There are options.”

  “I-I-I know. I j-just wanted to give h-him our baby.”

  “Maybe you still can. Don’t give up so easily.” She leans her head against mine and we sit like this for several long minutes, until the worst is past. When my quiet sobs have died down to wet sniffles, I raise my head. Before I can say anything, Ginger surprises me with an offer. “You’re like family to me, you know that right?” I nod and give her a watery smile. “I’d carry a baby for you if you needed me to.”

  My mouth drops open. “What?”

  She eyes me for a moment before she sits up straighter, as though she’s warming to the idea the more she thinks about it. “Hell yeah. I’d do that for you. You just might have to provide me with a tasty manwhore to use and abuse until I
deliver. I hear pregnant chicks are wicked horny.”

  I can’t help laughing. “Like you need any help in that area.”

  “Right? I’ve got the hormones of an eighteen-year-old boy. It’s one of my strengths.” She gives me her most devilish grin.

  “I appreciate that, Ginger, but you know I could never ask you to do that.”

  “Lucky for you, you don’t have to. I just offered.”

  “But-but, I don’t even know if Cash would agree to it.”

  “If it meant having a baby with you, he’d agree to it. Trust me.”

  My mind is spinning. I don’t really even want to think about having to get someone else to carry my child. I’m not ready to give up just yet.

  “I guess we can cross that bridge if we ever get to it.”

  “And just so you know, if I had to sleep with him to get this done, I’d make a point to be terrible in bed. I wouldn’t want to make you look bad.”

  The gleam in her eye is Ginger. All. Ginger. “I’m so glad you’re willing to sacrifice so much for me,” I tell her dryly.

  “What are friends for?” she asks, deadpan. But then her nose wrinkles and she laughs outright. “You know I’d never do that to you. But the other one? The twin? I’d do that in a split second.”

  “I thought you liked Marissa.”

  “She’s okay, but he’s…I mean damn! I’d do it, enjoy the hell out of it and then move to a different country. I have a feeling that woman would hunt me down and sew up my girly bits for sleeping with her man.”

  “You’re probably right. I think she’s pretty fond of him.”

  Ginger sighs loudly. “Yeah, seems like those Davenport boys are happy and very much taken. Dammit.”

  I eye her knowingly. “But Gavin’s not.” I see Ginger fidget, which she never does. She’s about as cool and confident as a woman is likely to get. “Oh my God, you like him!”