Wingmen (Modern Love Story #2, 4, & bonus)

by Daisy Prescott

  “Diane!” Quinn embraced her and gave her a twirl. “My broken goddess. Look at you! You’re as poorly dressed as Maggie.” He peered at her face. “And as head over heels in love as she is. Who’s the lucky guy?” His head snapped to me standing by the stairs. “No! You snagged the lumberjack? You lucky bitch.”

  I gave Quinn a smile and wave. “Hi, Quinn.”

  He gaped at Diane and then whispered something in her ear, causing her to blush. She nodded and he gave her a high five.

  “Is this Lizzy?” Diane asked, moving toward Quinn’s husband and the baby dressed in pink and black stripes. “Oh, she’s beautiful. May I?” She gestured to the baby.

  Why did women have to hold strange babies? I didn’t get it.

  “Isn’t she perfect?” Maggie asked me when she appeared at my side.

  “Whose is she?”

  “Quinn and Ryan’s daughter Lizzy. They had a surrogate last summer.”

  “Huh.” I nodded. “Cool.”

  Next thing I knew, Diane stood in front of me. “Want to hold her?”

  “Not so much.”

  “Oh, come on.” She held the baby out to me.

  “She’s not that scary, John.” Gil reassured me.

  “Nah, I’m okay.” That didn’t work either.

  Diane ignored my protests and placed the baby in my arms. Lizzy immediately reached for my beard and tugged.

  Fuck. Who knew babies were so strong. That hurt. My eyes watered and I tried not to curse out loud. Even I knew to keep it clean in front of kids.

  “Lizzy has a thing for the beard, too.” Diane smiled at me while she gently pried the tiny fist away from my face.

  “Can’t blame her,” Quinn echoed. “She has the best taste in everything.”

  Relief filled me when Maggie took Lizzy out of my arms. Over Maggie’s shoulder Lizzy smiled at me. I smiled back. I couldn’t help myself.

  I caught Diane’s gaze. She had the expression women get around babies. Other than the strange talk we’d had months ago about babies and zombies, we’d never discussed children again.

  Up until this moment, I’d never thought about them. But seeing the love on everyone’s faces when they gazed at Lizzy it all clicked into place.

  Rings on fingers.

  Babies in arms.

  I wanted it all.

  It wasn’t until I fell in love with Diane I believed I could have everything.

  I kissed the top of her head when she leaned into me.

  Everything.

  Maggie insisted we join them for dinner. She didn’t have to twist my arm. The woman was an amazing cook.

  Diane’s excitement over seeing friends again was infectious and I found myself having a great time. Wine flowed and we devoured several pounds of clams and mussels cooked in broth and butter. The baby monitor on the table squawked occasionally to remind us of Lizzy’s presence upstairs.

  “Wasn’t it about this time last year you had a house full?” I asked Maggie.

  “Good memory.” Her gaze drifted over to Gil. “I guess it’s our one year anniversary.”

  He kissed the back of her hand. “One year, plus twenty something.”

  Diane asked about the story and Maggie gave her the short version.

  “That’s so romantic. There must be something in the water here.” Her hand reached for mine under the table.

  “Must be all the fresh air,” I said, squeezing her hand back. Her blush told me she knew exactly what I meant. “Where’s the rest of the gang?”

  “The rest of them are off on other adventures,” Maggie said. “The Ben and Jo’s are on the Cape. And Selah’s on sabbatical. In Ghana.”

  “Is that what we’re still calling it?” Quinn asked.

  “It’s the official answer,” Maggie answered.

  I glanced between them. A bigger story was there. There always was with Maggie’s larger than life best friend.

  Diane asked the question on my mind. “Is she traveling alone?”

  Quinn’s smile and wink explained it all. “Selah’s never alone for long. She’s living her own personal Out of Africa.” He and Gil chuckled.

  Maggie gave them stern looks. “We’ll have to wait for her to get back next year to see what happens.”

  “Or maybe she’ll put it into one of her books. First pirates, then lumberjacks, sorry John, now Love: Missionary Style.” Quinn cracked himself up.

  “None taken,” I said.

  “Hush,” Maggie scolded, but couldn’t contain her laughter.

  I leaned back into my chair and extended my arm behind Diane. A year ago I’d been the odd man out when Maggie’s friends visited. With Diane by my side, all our lives were interwoven. Her friends and my friends had become our friends. It felt good to be part of the group. We were a family not by blood, but by choice.

  We made plans to visit the fair the next day. Discussions of which fried foods were our favorites and who would enter the pie eating contest followed.

  Pies, goats, 4H kids, and vomit inducing rides all had their charms, but something else at the fair appealed to me more.

  I had one last summer surprise for Diane.

  Loud beeping noises combined with a thrumming rattle underscored by the low hum of generators. The Island County Fair teemed with people while Diane and I strolled through rows of beeping, flashing, and blaring music of the midway. Behind us followed Maggie and gang.

  I teased Diane about the pie eating contest, waggling my eyebrows. Her cheeks pinked, but she ignored me, instead discussing the difference between funnel cakes and fried dough with Maggie.

  Our destination wasn’t the Tilt-a-Whirl or the Zipper. We were on a mission of a different sort. I asked Gil the time to make sure we weren’t late.

  The further we walked from the small midway the fair morphed back into its rural roots. Kids in neatly pressed 4H uniforms leaned against fences or led cows around rings. Hay and manure replaced the smell of fried everything. With Lizzy strapped to his chest, Quinn showed her the baby animals while Ryan snapped pictures of everything. I smiled at their enthusiasm.

  A pair of tall poles marked our arrival at the log show, a fair tradition. Donnely preened next to his latest eagle sculpture with spread wings. With a wave, he greeted us and went back to chatting up the women admiring his skills with a chainsaw.

  Diane stared up at me. Her eyes, wide with excitement, held a single question.

  I nodded.

  “You said you weren’t a real lumberjack.”

  “I did.”

  “You lied.”

  “I stretched the truth. The only lumberjacks who exist these days are in movies, books, and these sorts of competitions. I’m in logging, timber, forestry.”

  “But you eat pancakes and have Babe and … “

  I kissed her hard. “Don’t forget the boots and the beard.”

  She broke out into a grin and grazed her hand down my jaw. “And the beard.”

  I kissed her again and slowly dragged my cheek along her jaw. She moaned.

  “If you moan like that again, I won’t be able to concentrate. Not sure I can balance on a log with a hard-on.”

  “This is every fantasy I’ve ever had come true.”

  I ran my thumb over my bottom lip and quirked my eyebrow. “Every fantasy?”

  “Let me clarify, every lumberjack fantasy. Is it wrong I hope you fall and get all wet?”

  “You want me to fall into the water?”

  A devilish gleam lit up her eyes. She bit her lip and nodded her head.

  “You’re weird.”

  “But you love me.”

  “I do love you. And now I have some wood to saw, a pole to climb, and cold water to fall into for your amusement.”

  She gazed up at me with a swoony face I’d only seen in movies.

  I kissed her one last time, and dipped her back and low. I smiled at her surprise while I sauntered backwards toward the competition area where Donnely waited with my gear.

  “I love yo
u, lumberjack.” Her voice carried over the crowd. Unfortunately, I wasn’t the only lumberjack around. Several burly men shouted their love back at her, including Donnely.

  Her cheeks reddened and she ducked her head down before she and the others climbed the small set of bleachers.

  Between my laughter and my own wood, there was no way I would able to concentrate.

  After changing into my cork boots, jeans frayed above the ankle, a gray T-shirt, and red suspenders, I looked the part at least.

  I ended up doing a spectacular backward fall off the log into the shallow pool of water. Not on purpose. Of course not.

  I shook out my wet hair and took off my shirt to wring it out while I waited for the log rolling to finish.

  As I stood there shirtless, I heard Diane’s cheers. They were the loudest by far; I had no idea she could whistle like that. I stood up straighter with my shoulders rolled back, and grinned.

  “Whipped.” Donnely coughed next to me.

  “Shut it.” I shoved him in the shoulder.

  My comeback in the chainsaw, axe, and speed climb rounds weren’t enough to recover from the dive I took in the pool. Didn’t matter. When it was all over and done, Diane jumped into my arms, wrapping her legs around my hips like I got crowned champion.

  She gave me a scorching kiss fit for a returning hero. In between kisses she said, “That. Was. The hottest. Thing. Ever. When the sawdust was flying around you? And your biceps bulged when you threw the axe? I thought I might pass out.”

  I kissed her again.

  “And the way your thighs looked so strong and manly climbing up the pole?”

  She kissed me and I lost myself in her. Standing there in the middle of the fair, wet jeans clinging to me, Diane wrapped around me, nothing else in the world mattered. I’d be a lumberjack if it made her happy. I’d do anything for this woman.

  One Day

  “CLOSE?” DIANE ASKED.

  “Yes.” I waited, controlling my breathing and focusing on coordinating my movements.

  “You said close five minutes ago.”

  “Closer now,” I grunted under the strain.

  Nearing the peak, I paused to meet her eyes. Diane's breathing labored from exertion.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  “I've been ready for the last half hour.”

  “Close your eyes.”

  “Are you serious, John?”

  I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from smiling at her annoyed tone.

  “Don't laugh at me when you're driving me crazy!”

  Not bothering to cover my laughter this time, I grinned at her. “Close your eyes or I'll cover them.” I reached out to place my hand over her eyes and she swatted it away.

  “They're closed. I'm ready.” After closing her eyes, she inhaled and held her breath, straightening her back in anticipation.

  I reached around her, grabbing her legs and lifting her ass. With her eyes closed, she didn't expect it and screamed.

  It was awkward and I stumbled, almost breaking our connection before finding my balance again and spinning us around.

  “Ready?”

  Exasperated, she answered, “Ready. You really know how to draw things out and torture a girl.”

  “Open.”

  Her gasp made it all worth it. Light brown eyes met my own, and I could see the tears trembling in the corners, ready to fall down her cheeks. “Really?” she asked as she released her legs, her skis sinking into the snow.

  “One-hundred percent.” I popped off my skis before kneeling down and removing my gloves to reach the small, scuffed blue velvet box inside the pocket of my parka. I fumbled and dropped the box into the snow. “Shit.”

  Diane grabbed my hands, steadying my heart with her touch. Staring into my eyes and deeper into my soul, her gaze never wavered. “Then, yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.” The tears broke free, cascading down until they were lost in her smile.

  “You'll marry me?” My own eyes stung.

  “I'll marry you, John Day.” She brushed snow from my beard and cupped my cheek before leaning over to kiss me.

  I looked down at the field below us where small logs, twigs, and branches spelled out the question I'd known for months I would ask her someday. Today was that day. And she said yes.

  Seven months, a few weeks, a couple of days and an unknown number of hours earlier...

  Rings on fingers. Babies in arms. I wanted it all. It wasn't until I fell in love with Diane I believed I could have everything. I kissed the top of her head when she leaned into me. Everything.

  Twenty-four hours earlier...

  Wet black roads wound through deep evergreen forest crested by snow and icy peaks as we drove north into the Cascades. Ahead lay the Methow Valley with its year-round cabins, cross-country skiing and isolated beauty- the perfect place to ask Diane to be my forever.

  I hadn't told Diane where we were going. One thing I had learned in the last year about the woman, she liked surprises and was always up for the unexpected.

  Another thing I learned, she didn't like Valentine's Day cliches any more than I did. What a relief. No stuffed animals or heart shaped boxes for her. But that didn't mean I wasn't a romantic. The thing I had planned for this weekend proved I was a romantic sap. Donnely called me whipped. Screw that. I openly admitted Diane owned me. In a year, she'd worked her way inside me. I did everything with her happiness in mind.

  Eighteen hours earlier...

  “Why are you squishing your grilled cheese like that?” I stared as she poked her sandwich before peeling back the top layer and prodding the bed of gooey cheese with her pickle.

  “It's Valentine's Day. I want to make sure I don't swallow anything that's not digestible.”

  I froze mid-chew of my burger, my breath blocked. Inhaling, I choked.

  Diane burst into laughter. Other diners turned to look at us, me redfaced and coughing while Diane bent over and snorted. Not exactly the picture of a couple in love.

  “Your face!” she wheezed, patting me on the back as I slowly regained the ability to breathe.

  “Why the hell would I hide a ring in a grilled cheese sandwich?” I asked

  “Who said anything about a ring?” She winked.

  Wait.

  No one had said anything about a ring.

  Shit.

  Had I just blown it?

  A grin split her face and she bounced in her seat. “I love you John Day, but if you proposed to me on Valentine's Day by hiding a ring inside a cheese sandwich, I'd be forced to leave you forever.”

  After swallowing half my pint of beer, I settled my nerves and exhaled. From her expression, she had no idea of my racing pulse. “Then you'd better not order dessert.”

  Her mouth gaped open and I smirked.

  Sure, we'd talked about forever in that way couples do. She had spent more time at my cabin than hers over the summer that when her short lease ended, she moved in with me and Babe. It was only a matter of time.

  Twelve hours earlier...

  “Look up.” I lifted Diane's chin higher until her head tilted back and she broke our gaze. My breath mixed with the steam rising from the water before disappearing into the night. Diane wrapped her arms around my neck and leaned further back in the hot tub, causing her hips to grind into me. I groaned.

  “What is it about you and water outside?” She sat up and deliberately wiggled as she felt me grow.

  I smiled, then shifted her body closer and nipped at the swell of her breast above the water. Private hot tub meant no bathing suits.

  As my hands began to wander, she moaned. Loudly.

  I laughed when she looked around. “Don't worry, love, no one for miles out here.”

  Her eyes sparkled as she moved her hand between our bodies. “I love the great outdoors.”

  Six hours earlier...

  Starfished across the bed under the down comforter, Diane's dark hair was the only thing visible, a single point of focus in a blizzard of white bedding. Her beauty silen
ced me. It grounded me. She was mine.

  I closed the door without a sound and dressed in the living room to avoid waking her. The early morning light revealed clear skies as I stepped outside our cabin. My errand would take about an hour and I could return before she even woke. A white chocolate mocha would be my cover.

  An hour earlier...

  The black fur hat with the ear flaps crowning Diane's head made her look part Russian and part Newfoundland. A scarf was wrapped around her neck, its ends tied and tucked between her down vest and parka. Fleece lined ski pants covered her ass, buried somewhere beneath the layers of down and Gortex.

  “Are we skiing to the North Pole?” The layers muffled her voice until she pawed away the wool near her mouth with her gloved hand.

  “Ha ha. No.” I double-checked the bindings on her cross country skis.

  “I've skied before, you know. My whole life. Back East. Where you ski on more ice than snow. I'm fine.”

  “I believe you. But indulge me?” I met her eyes as I skimmed my hands over her curves. I had to keep my hands busy otherwise they would wander to my pocket to touch the square box that held my mother's ring. For the hundredth time. How many times did I need to reassure myself it was safe?

  “Ready?” I asked.

  Despite her grumblings, she smiled up at me before answering, “When it comes to you? Always.”

  I exhaled and pushed off on my skis towards the trail leading to the peak, leading to forever.

  Thank you to Melissa Ringsted at There for You Editing Services for tackling the edits on this project.

  Extra special thanks to my pre-readers Dianne, Heather, Kelly, Marla, and Suzie for reading, hand-holding, guidance, keeping me off the ledge, and swooning over John Day. Your input is invaluable.

  Thanks to Sarah Hansen at Okay Creations for another beautiful cover.

  Special gratitude for Heather Maven for the conversations that inspired me to write John Day's story. If you enjoyed this book, be sure to thank her. Outdoor showers will never be the same.

  To the Lost Girls and the Lost Boys, your friendship means the world to me. My sanity would have disappeared long ago without you.