Sex, Vows & Babies: One More Night (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Sarah O'Rourke

  Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Rochelle Paige Popovic and Elle Christensen. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Sex, Vows & Babies remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Rochelle Paige Popovic and Elle Christensen, or their affiliates or licensors.

  For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds

  One More Night

  By Sarah O’Rourke

  A Note from Fiona Davenport

  Dear Readers,

  Welcome to the Sex, Vows & Babies Kindle World! In this combination of my Sex & Vows and Yeah, Baby series, we’ll bring you new books by some truly amazing authors. From sexy stories of married couples fighting against outside forces to keep their happily ever after, to unexpected pregnancies that lead to forever afters… the Sex, Vows & Babies world is full of over the top alphas, sassy heroines, insta-love, wedding bells, and growing families. Although the wide cast of characters in both series have managed to find love, there’s plenty more out there who could use Sex, Vows & Babies in their lives—like the couple in this story!

  If you’re familiar with the Yeah, Baby and Sex & Vows series, you’ll see a familiar face (or more) in this story. I am so excited this author agreed to bring their storytelling talent to the Sex, Vows & Babies Kindle World! However, please keep in mind that this book is entirely the work of the author, and I didn’t have any part in the process of writing this book.

  For more about the world, stop by the Sex, Vow, & Babies website: http://www.fionadavenport.com/kindle-worlds/.

  Happy reading!

  Fiona Davenport

  (Elle Christensen & Rochelle Paige)

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to Rochelle Paige and Elle Christensen, the two fabulous authors that have come together to create Fiona Davenport. Thank you, ladies, for including us in this wonderful Kindle Worlds project. It’s truly been a blast!

  The Two Crazies that are Sarah O’Rourke

  Table of Contents

  A Note from Fiona Davenport

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Epilogue

  Sex, Vows & Babies Kindle World

  More by Sarah O’Rourke

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Waverlee

  “Don’t look now, sweet thing, but I do believe your shadow is back. Again. What’s this make? The seventh night in a row?”

  Waverlee Armstrong looked up from the iPad where she had just updated her customer’s bar tab. Flipping her long hair over her shoulder as she heard her favorite bartender share those slightly intimidating words, she felt her eyes widening. It was actually the ninth night in a row her so-called shadow had come into the bar to silently sit at a table and watch her work as he indulged in a couple of beers.

  That was, IF it was indeed who she only-sort-of-desperately hoped it was. Her pulse skyrocketed while her busy hands froze in place. She forced herself to move slowly and shoot a quick look over her shoulder to once again find the most beautiful man she’d ever seen in her life staring at her. Oh, my, he had the most intense cobalt blue eyes God had ever bestowed on a human being. And as much as Waverlee hated to admit it, the mere sight of him had her fighting the urge to do a little dance – which she definitely should not do in the presence of ANY witnesses since she possessed absolutely no rhythm whatsoever.

  Trying to act as natural as possible as she stood there aimlessly shuffling her order tickets and generally making a mess of the papers in her hands, she couldn’t help the sigh that escaped as she stole another glance in his direction. It honestly wasn’t fair how ridiculously hot the man was. With his thick black hair, a slightly crooked nose that must have been broken at least a time or two, and a sharp, angular jaw she longed to run her fingertips across, he probably wasn’t what most folks would call classically handsome. Instead, he had a rugged, almost brutally manly look about him. A look that virtually screamed he’d seen a lot in his life, but done a whole lot more. It was a look that never failed to make her wish she’d packed an extra pair of panties in her handbag every single time he trained those eyes of his on her.

  Shifting from foot to foot on the three-inch heels of her sexy black boots (a lucky yard sale find if she did say so herself), Waverlee tried to nonchalantly press her thighs together to relieve the throbbing ache she felt deep in her pussy. Sadly, however, her tactic failed, and she realized tonight wasn’t going to be any different from the night before. She was destined to be doomed to wear her desire-soaked undies for the rest of her shift.

  Because, for whatever reason, drop-dead gorgeous Crenshaw Jacobson had singled her out. He had been sitting in her station every night for over a week, and somehow, the sinfully sexy man just managed to crank her engine in a way that made her motor purr.

  The whole thing was actually kind of crazy since she’d never felt this kind of attraction to any other man before him. Oh, it wasn’t that she was gay. On the contrary, she loved admiring a good-looking piece of manmeat as much as the next hot-blooded woman did. It was simply that between working two jobs and taking classes at the local community college, she just didn’t have time to invest in a relationship with anyone -- not even one that was purely of a physical nature.

  Which explained why she was still a virgin at the ripe old age of twenty-one -- still in full possession of her cherry, thank you very much.

  Angling her body so she could dart another covert look in Shaw’s – as he’d demanded she call him on her second night of waiting on him - direction, Waverlee tried to plaster what she hoped could pass as a decidedly disinterested look on her face only to find the determined man grinning lazily back at her.

  Damn it! She was busted. He’d found her looking his way again and wasn’t a bit shy about letting her know she’d been caught. Heck, if his widening grin was any indication of his mood, he was enjoying every moment of her embarrassment, too.

  It didn’t seem to matter to Shaw that he was blatantly ignoring the couple sitting across from him, animatedly chewing his ear off about something or other. Oh, no, his whole laser-like focus remained centered entirely on her. “Oh, crap patties on a cracked wheat cracker,” she whimpered under her breath as she watched him languidly drape a muscled arm across the back of his booth, pulling his worn navy blue tee-shirt tightly against his sculpted chest. She knew it was sculpted, too, because every single defined ridge of cut muscle was molded to the material of his shirt. Quite frankly, she’d be willing to wager an entire week’s pay that his whole chest would be classified as a work of art… one that had her aching to touch and explore it. Biting her lip, her breath caught as he continued to pin her in place with those amazing eyes of his. He was sitting in the same seat he’d filled every day for the past week, patiently waiting for her to approach his table and bring him his standard order of an icy mug of beer. Budweiser, preferably. And in about three seconds, she’d be willing to bet her whole night’s tips he’d begin imperiously crooking his index finger to call her over to him if she didn’t get her butt moving in his direction soon. Because Shaw Jacobson had taught her he was a man who made sure he always got the attention he wanted -- even if he had to take it.

 
She’d learned that lesson the tough way on the fifth night she’d seen him when, in an effort to guard her young heart during a particularly busy shift, she’d tried to hand off his table (and his interest) to another of the pretty, young waitresses who worked there. That change-up had lasted all of about thirty seconds before Waverlee had seen him shake his dark head at the girl who arrived at his table and tried to take his order and sent her on her way with a friendly smile. Instead, Shaw had bided his time, patiently watching her and waiting until Waverlee had been forced to pass his table on her way back to the bar to reach out with one of his long arms and curl it around her waist, effectively snagging her and pulling her back against his chest before bending his head to demand against her ear that she – and only she -- bring him his beer. In just a few moments with just a few words, he made it abundantly clear that night…and any other time he was in the bar… he wanted her and only her to see to all his needs.

  Since that not-so-distant evening in the past, Waverlee hadn’t bothered trying to avoid Shaw. It was evident he’d never allow it to happen anyway and since she’d never been a girl who liked to waste her time trying to accomplish fruitless tasks, she’d gone along with it, carefully keeping their interactions as brief and professional as possible. Although that was getting harder and harder to do since Shaw seemed hell-bent in drawing her out of her shell and getting to know her. With every night that passed, he seemed to ask more and more personal questions, charming the answers out of her with playful smiles and flirty winks.

  Yeah, she definitely had a problem. A six foot tall, incredibly handsome problem, she thought as she quickly turned back toward the bar to face her boss and friend. Praying her cheeks didn’t look quite as rosy as they felt, she shrugged her slim shoulders as she smiled at the bartender. “I’m sure Shaw is not here for me, Brad,” she lied, hoping like hell she sounded more convinced than she felt. “He’s probably just wants to grab a burger and a beer just like everybody else in here tonight,” she declared with a forced smile and a pointed look at the beer tap while hoping like the dickens that she’d injected her voice with just the right amount of breezy dismissiveness to get the well-meaning, but incredibly nosy bartender off her back.

  Brad scoffed as he shook his head. “Yeah, well, I’m equally certain you’re wrong, babe. This is the ninth or tenth night in a row that guy has come in and sat down at your station and last night, when you didn’t have any empty tables left, he paid a guy a hundred bucks to give up his seat. These are not things a guy does unless he’s hooked on a lot more than the booze and food. And while I agree he does look like he wants to sink his teeth into something, I’m pretty sure it’s not something on our menu that’s gonna satisfy his appetite, if you know what I mean,” Brad returned evenly as he wiped down the bar with a sweep of his beefy arm.

  Brad was a great guy and an even better boss. After her mom had split, he’d hired her when she’d been alone, broke, and terrified. The last thing she wanted to do was get in an argument with him about Shaw’s intentions so Waverlee decided playing stupid was definitely the easiest way to go at this juncture. “Listen, I have no clue what you’re talking about, Brad,” she returned blandly while she fished a hair scrunchy from the pocket of her apron and smoothly gathered her thick, naturally wavy reddish brown hair in one hand, pulling the strands into a neat ponytail.

  “But…”

  As much as she enjoyed the friendly, almost brotherly relationship she’d built with the older bartender, she didn’t want to encourage his current line of thought. Brad was like a dog with a bone, and lately, he’d been on a mission to get her to start dating, and it was obvious he’d like to see her give Crenshaw a chance. But even if she was interested in the idea of starting to date somebody, there was no way she could go down that road with a guy like Shaw. Mostly because there was absolutely no chance she was woman enough to keep a man like the one presently watching her interested for longer than the time it would take him to get his rocks off. Not even close. Her longest relationship to date was the one she had with her hamster, and he only stuck around because she kept his kibble dish filled and his hamster wheel well-oiled. Hell, even her one remaining parent had taken off as soon as she’d turned eighteen. Yep, her mom had given her a hundred bucks, a duffel bag filled with some of her clothes, and a quick kiss on the cheek at her high school graduation three years ago, and that had been the last she’d seen of the woman. Honestly, the fact her mom had stuck around even that long was almost a bona fide miracle. The truth was as much as Waverlee loved the older woman, Terri Armstrong had never been much of a mom. She’d liked to party way too much for that, and truthfully, Waverlee had always felt like the burden her mother had been forced to carry for eighteen years. Especially since her dad had made tracks on the same day Waverlee had been born. The truth was that Terri leaving had freed them both in a way – even if it was a lonely existence at times.

  “I call bullshit.” Brad snorted and shook his head. “You need to face it, darlin. That man sittin’ over there,” he continued with a chin lift toward Shaw, “He wants to take a great big ole bite outta you,’” he went on in a voice that carried over the low din of the restaurant as he finally reached for a frosty beer mug and held it under the tap as he drew forth the foamy beverage.

  “Will you please hush before he hears you?” Waverlee begged, her high voice almost cracking as she tossed a desperate look over her shoulder to see if the man in question was listening to the same nonsense she was being subjected to. Groaning when she saw the slow, confident smirk spreading across his full lips, she whirled back around to face the bar just knowing Shaw had been listening to every single word Brad had said. “I swear, wonderful boss or not, I’m going to kill you if you keep talking, Brad. Seriously!”

  “Now, Waverlee…”

  Eyes flashing, she made herself silently count to ten before she asked, “Would you rather be impaled on a beer bottle or locked in the cooler to freeze to death? I’m a good sport. I’m so generous, I’ll let you choose your demise.”

  “We both know you love me too much to harm a hair on my head, LeeLee,” the slightly overweight bartender returned with a playful smile as he called her by the pet name he’d dubbed her with on her very first night of work at the bar.

  “You’re bald, Brad,” Waverlee returned flatly, pursing her lips.

  “Oh, yeah,” Brad mumbled self-consciously, lifting a hand to pat his hairless scalp.

  Waverlee’s lips twitched. “It’s okay, Brad. A stud like you can really rock the bald look.”

  Brad’s face beamed at her compliment. “I do, don’t I?” he grinned. “Anyway, you’re distracting me. As I was saying before, what’s the harm in you having a little fun? Crenshaw Jacobson has got the hots for you, and I gotta say, the guy’s a catch. I’ve known him for years. Not well, but well enough. He runs his own construction business. Works real close with Wyatt Kinkaid’s architecture firm. He’s steady and dependable. Old enough to know what he wants, but still young enough to get it without much trouble. And right now, it’s pretty obvious what he seems to want is you. You’re a grown gal, sweets. I know you’re shy around new folks, especially the ones with a dick, but Crenshaw is a grown-ass man. He’s not like those pansy-assed fuckers who are always sniffin’ around you. Besides, you’ve got let somebody get close sometime. Live a little.” Looking down the counter at Jumpin’ Jacks only other bartender, Wendy, Brad lifted his chin at the woman. “Wendy, get in on this, sweetheart! Tell our girl that Crenshaw is good people.”

  Wendy looked up from drying a stack of glasses with a dish towel and grinned at Waverlee. “I’ve known Shaw since I started workin’ here, too, and if he ever extended me an invitation to scale Man Candy Mountain and plant my flag, I’d be all over that in a New York minute. Between Wyatt marrying Bailey, their buddy Jack hooking up with Ellison, and now Shaw looking like he’s a heartbeat away from jumping you on the nearest flat surface, all the good men in this town are disappearing entirely too fas
t. If I were you, I’d grab on to him and hang on as tight as I could for the ride, girl, because that man is fine.”

  Waverlee shook her head quickly and offered Wendy a nervous smile. While she worked with the woman every other night, she wasn’t nearly as close to her as she was to Brad - mostly because Wendy often saw her as competition for the attention of their male customers. The other woman needn’t have worried, though. Wendy was a lot more confident and outgoing than she would ever be, well versed in the art of flirting and flouncing whereas Waverlee was more of a wallflower, pleasant enough to look at, but quiet and bashful around others. So, while both women got along well enough to work together, both knew they’d never be besties. “Guys, as much as I appreciate your enthusiasm, it’s all I can do to keep a semi-decent roof over my head and pay my tuition. I work practically all the time, and during the rare time I’m not working, I’m studying. I barely have time to sleep. Forget about dating anybody.”

  “That’s why you need to find a good man who can take some of the pressure off you,” Wendy asserted as Brad nodded in agreement.

  “No thank you” Waverlee denied instantly, unwilling to use any man as a gravy train. “I’m doing just fine on my own, Wen.” Besides, she reminded herself, there was no way she’d ever be able to trust anyone enough to depend on them – no matter how sexy they were or how much they made her body ache. Hell, she hadn’t even been able to rely on her own parents – the two people who should have been her biggest supporters. She’d learned at a very young age the only person a girl could really depend on was herself. Placing the large ewer of beer that Brad prepared for Shaw’s table on her tray, she shot the older man a kind smile. “Thanks for worrying about me, Brad, but the only relationship I want with Crenshaw Jacobson is the kind that ends with a fair tip on the table at the end of the night.”