by Lex Martin
“Oh, you look so beautiful,” my mother gushes, dabbing a tissue under her eyes. Ginny is sitting on her lap as James sleeps in his car seat next to her feet. She loves being a grandma, even if she refuses to be called one.
“You think so? It looks okay?” I ask, chewing on my lower lip. All I can think about is the stretch marks on my boobs and the dark circles under my eyes. “I feel like a whale,” I pout.
“Nothing a good facial and vagina steam can’t fix,” Courtney assures me, cheerfully. My face turns red as the stylist looks away, pretending she doesn’t exist right now.
“Court!” I scold, frowning. “Don’t make me laugh. I’ll pop a button.”
“There are no buttons,” she deadpans.
I flash her a pointed look, and she laughs.
“Do you want to try it on with your veil?” the stylist asks, and I nod with an eager smile. The veil is my favorite accessory— a gorgeous lace that reaches my ankles but also doubles as a headband. I plan to take it off after pictures and wear only the headband piece for the reception.
“Don’t forget the shoes,” Courtney says as she grabs them out of the box. My feet swelled up during my last trimester, so shoe shopping was a nightmare. I ended up finding a pair of lace, peep toe heels, and best of all, they’re super comfortable. However, I did size up, so I basically look like Big Foot.
Once I’m completely put together with jewelry, shoes, veil and all, I step on the pedestal and look at myself in the mirrors. I hardly recognize the woman who stares back at me. Showered, hair brushed, and even a little makeup on today, versus the sporty-spice look I’ve managed to nail.
Watching everyone’s reactions in the mirror, I see Courtney snapping pictures of me and smiling as her fingers fly over the screen. Except she’s not smiling about me. She’s smiling about something else.
“Who are you sending those pictures to?” I ask, knowing she’s up to something.
“Just Drew. I told him I’d give him a preview of your dress.”
“He’s not going to care what my dress looks like, Court.”
“Yes, he does! He told me so.”
Rolling my eyes, I mutter, “Doubt it.” But she’s too involved on her phone to notice. Ever since she and Drew became roommates, they text nonstop like a pair of teenage girls. She swears up and down that they’re only friends, which I actually believe, considering Drew isn’t one to sleep around, but Courtney is the one I’m most worried about. Her crush has only deepened over the years, and Drew has shown absolutely zero interest in anything more than a platonic friendship. In fact, sometimes I wonder if Drew even realizes she has a vagina. He treats her like one of the guys, or rather, as another sister. She claims to be over it, but I know better. I see the way she looks at him. I see how giddy she gets when he responds to her text messages, and I see the hope in her eyes, that one day he’ll stop seeing her as his little sister’s best friend.
Once the fitting is over, and I’ve managed to peel myself out of my Spanx, we meet up with Travis and Drew for a late lunch. My parents are over the moon about Travis and me finally getting married, and they love being grandparents but hate that we didn’t move closer to them. I’m more than fine with it, considering my mother is just as bad as Courtney on the wedding planning details. Sometimes I wonder whose wedding it actually is.
“There’s my gorgeous bride-to-be,” Travis says with a beaming smile. He engulfs Ginny and me in a hug and then grabs James’ car seat from my aching arm. “How’d everything go?”
I give him a wide-eyed look that tells him everything he needs to know.
“That good, huh?” He smirks. He takes my hand and leads us to the table he’s saved for us all. Once Ginny is settled in her highchair, I unbuckle James and swaddle him to my chest. My parents and Courtney find their seats, and when the waitress comes to ask for our drink order, I realize there’s still an empty chair.
“Hey, where’s Drew?” I ask Travis. He looks down at his menu, and I can tell by the way his lips twitch, something’s up.
“He’s on his way. He had to do something quick.”
Courtney leans over and speaks in my ear so no one else can hear her. “By the noises coming from his long shower this morning, I’d say he doesn’t do anything quick.” I shoot her a disgusted look as she flashes me a smile.
“And there goes my appetite.”
She laughs and winks at me. Sometimes, I wish they’d just fuck and get it over with. Whatever game they’re playing is getting a little out of hand.
“So, since carbs are out of the question, looks like I can have water and lettuce.”
I glance over at Courtney, wondering if she heard me, and her face is white as a ghost.
“Holy fucking shit,” she mutters, looking behind me.
“What?” I turn around to where she’s staring, and gasp when I see what she’s freaking out about. “What the hell is he doing here with her?” I mutter, getting Travis’ attention.
“Who?” he asks, turning his head. His eyes widen as the next words come from Courtney’s mouth.
“Mia fucking Montgomery.”
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Kiss Me Slow
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Featuring: Kate Stewart, A. Zavarelli, Kennedy Ryan & BB Reid
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Don’t Break This Kiss
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Never Let Go (Free with Kindle Unlimited)
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This concludes Travis & Viola’s story, but there is so much more coming!
Continue the Checkmate Duet Series with Drew & Courtney’s duet.
Available now!
Find the Checkmate bonus scenes on our website here!
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Want more of the Checkmate crew?
Will Drew finally realize who’s been in front of him all this time?
Find out in the Drew & Courtney duet!
ONE CLICK
Drew Fisher is the type of guy every girl wants.
Noble police officer by day, charming prince by night.
He has no idea the effect he has on women, especially Courtney—his little sister’s best friend. She’s the blonde Southern belle who lives up to the cliché, except she has her own quirks. She’s smart as a whip, can change her own oil, and recite The Pledge of Allegiance backward, but no matter what, he doesn’t see that girl. It’d be easier to forget him if he wasn’t Courtney’s roommate and if the first thing she saw in the morning wasn't his shirtless body covered in tattoos. She’s crushed on him since the day they met, but he’s made it perfectly clear where they stand.
Just friends.
Courtney Bishop is as sugary sweet as her famous blueberry muffins.
Southern belle at heart, Cali girl by choice.
She barged into Drew’s life and they easily became best friends.
All was great as roommates and just friends, but then he started to fall for the girl who could chop firewood, deliver baby calves, and bail hay without breaking a sweat.
She’s the perfect mixture of sugar and spice, and he wants her.
One drunken hookup leaves them with much more than a platonic friendship. Preten
ding it never happened proves to be more difficult than either of them anticipated. A crazy ex-girlfriend, a dangerous war of stolen glances, and passionate kisses leads to the most reckless battle yet.
Loving each other comes easy, but losing their friendship will break them. Burning passion combined with an undeniable chemistry constantly pushes and pulls them together. In the end, Drew strives to prove they’re worth the fight, even when the game is far from over.
Checkmate
Available now!
Brooke Cumberland and Lyra Parish are a duo of romance authors who teamed up under the USA Today pseudonym, Kennedy Fox. They share a love of Hallmark movies & overpriced coffee. When they aren’t bonding over romantic comedies, they like to brainstorm new book ideas. One day, they decided to collaborate under a pseudonym and have some fun creating new characters that’ll make you blush and your heart melt. If you enjoy romance stories with sexy, tattooed alpha males and smart, quirky, independent women, then a Kennedy Fox book is for you!
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kennedyfoxbooks.com
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Books by Kennedy Fox
CHECKMATE DUET SERIES
BISHOP BROTHERS SERIES
BEDTIME READS SERIES
ROOMMATE DUET SERIES
CIRCLE B RANCH SERIES
EX-CON DUET SERIES
LOVE IN ISOLATION SERIES
Click here for the full Kennedy Fox reading order
Knocking Boots
By W Winters
Prologue
Charlie
“Charlie...”
Grace’s soft voice beckons me from across the hotel room as I shut the door. I pull at the knot in my necktie, loosening it before tossing it on the floor. Through the dim light the night provides I can barely see as she scissors her legs under the stark white hotel comforter.
It’s unreal to me still that she wants me so much and what’s more, they all think she’s mine. Every one of those guests at my sister’s wedding thinks Grace belongs to me. Then again, the whole damn town is convinced she’s the next one to get hitched.
They’re right about one thing. She’ll be screaming my name tonight. But the rest is all a lie.
“Don’t make me wait anymore...” she pleads.
Grace’s slender neck arches as she grips the comforter in her hands and groans out her words with a little pout on her lush lips.
I’ve got her so worked up, my little sweetheart, but that wasn’t hard to do. I knew she wanted me. She doesn’t want to keep me though; she just wants me for the night. Tonight, she’s all mine. I’m not the kind of guy who’s good enough for her. Even though my throat gets tight at the thought, and my steps pause on the way to her, I blame myself. She was too tempting to resist and all of this is my fault.
Grace isn’t the kind of girl who winds up with a man like me. She’s got her life planned out. She wants the whole nine yards, and in less than a year.
She wants a picture-perfect family and a white picket fence, but that’s not a life I’m ready for nor one I can provide. Not right now. Maybe not ever.
I can see Grace wearing a white dress. A wedding dress. I bet she’d wear one of those big ass gowns with a train that fills the aisle. It’s not hard to imagine how the dress would move around her long, shapely legs.
The thought of her walking down the aisle to someone else, a man other than myself, pisses me off. The anger rises, heating my blood just thinking about it and that tightness in my throat comes back with a vengeance. But there’s no way in hell I’ll be the man she’s walking toward. We both know that. I have Grace for tonight, and that’s all that matters. It’s what I wanted in our deal.
It was a drunken deal we made when our flirtatious natures got out of hand. She promised to come to the wedding and pretend to be my girlfriend, to keep my family off my back.
I slip off my shirt, and start undoing my belt just as she turns onto her side and looks at me through her long lashes, her eyes shining with lust.
“I want you, Charlie.” She whispers the words I’ve been dreaming of since she first stepped into my life.
Fuck. I can’t take my name sounding like lust on her lips. As if the taste of my name is all she needs to get off.
Or maybe I’m just imagining it. Maybe all this is in my head, because I want to think that hooking up somehow means more to her now.
It wasn’t supposed to be anything serious.
It was just a date. Just a release. All of this was only for fun.
And I know after tonight, she’ll be long gone.
The bed groans as I climb on top of it and I bend down to kiss the soft skin on the tender side of her neck, I can’t help thinking she feels so right. So perfect in my arms.
I pull back the comforter, revealing the lacy negligee she's wearing, and watch a beautiful pink blush travel up her chest and into her cheeks.
“What’s this?” I ask her with a cocked brow. My already hard dick twitches with the need to get that lingerie off of her and onto the floor. I want what’s underneath.
She bites down on her bottom lip and attempts to throw back one of those smart ass responses she’s always got for me, but my lips are on hers before she gets a single word out. Nipping and sucking and reveling in what’s to come.
Her fingers spear into my hair and she deepens the kiss, wrapping her legs around my hips. My hands roam up the curve of her waist and back down as she moans into my mouth.
This is dangerous. I’m fucking addicted. I swear, it wasn’t supposed to happen like this.
As I stare down at her beautiful face, her lips parted and her gorgeous baby blues half-lidded, I know this isn’t just a good time anymore. Not for me.
I’m not the type of man she wants. We both know that. I don’t have what it takes to keep her.
But damn… I want to.
Grace
Rewinding to the beginning of this story….
“It’s not the worst news, but I know it’s not what you wanted to hear. Honestly though, Grace, there are a number of options,” Dr. Abrahams tells me but all I can hear is the last option she gave me. The best option according to her: freezing my eggs. She smiles at me, brushing a strand of gray hair behind her ear. My own simper falters and I hate that I can’t hide the disappointment better.
Looking past her at the wall I note that it’s plastered with what must be hundreds of pictures of newborns who Dr. Abrahams has helped other women conceive. Their little smiles and bows and cute little fingers and toes stare back at me. The photos are framed with pink and blue paper and give the room a hopeful atmosphere. I should be more thankful; the doctor just told me my eggs are still viable, after all. But she’s given me news that a woman at my age shouldn’t be getting. ‘Premenopausal’ isn’t a word I ever thought I’d hear. Let alone this soon.
My parents always said, career first. “Figure out your life and make sure you’re stable before settling down. You have plenty of time for marriage and babies.” I suppose my father didn’t think I’d be premenopausal either.
Barely keeping the smile on my face, I nod at whatever Dr. Abrahams said although I have no idea what came out of her mouth.
All isn’t lost yet, but if I don’t act soon my chances of having a child will be gone. Even now, without IVF, the odds are slim. My hormones have just given up apparently.
I’m only thirty. So… I’ve got to meet someone, and get him to propose. That’s a year and a half, optimistically. Hopefully it’s someone who wants to have kids, with extensive and expensive medical help more than likely. My mind drifts back to my health insurance and I wonder what’s covered and what’s not.
They say that people who wait at least three years before tying the knot stay married longer, so that’s three years longer I’d have to wait. Then there's conception and gestation… and the birth, of course. My fingers run circles around each ot
her, twiddling as I think of how this is possible. It has to be possible though, because I’ve always wanted a child. The thought of a bundled up newborn with a little button nose and sweet yawn takes over for a moment and my throat goes dry as my eyes prick. I can’t not have a child. I nearly say the words out loud but somehow I keep them down. Swallowing them and reminding myself that freezing my eggs will work. The doctor said so.
The little plan in my head means it will be more than five years and thousands of dollars before any baby could be a reality, assuming everything goes perfectly. If the IVF works on the first try. My gaze drifts to the wall of babies, which seems to be mocking me.
“Grace,” Dr. Abrahams says gently, reaching across her desk to touch my hand. The sudden touch is jolting, bringing me back to the present. My very single, very baby-less present. “Did you hear me? I have some pamphlets here for the fertility preservation clinics I recommend.”
