Brenda Jackson The Westmoreland Series Books 16-20

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Brenda Jackson The Westmoreland Series Books 16-20 Page 42

by Brenda Jackson


  “Oh, Callum. Even your mom knows?” She had to fight back tears as she continued to admire her ring.

  “Sweetheart, everybody knows,” he said, grinning. “I had sworn them to secrecy. It was important for me to court you the way you deserved. You hadn’t dated a whole lot, and I wanted to show you that not all guys were heartbreakers.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. “And you did court me. I just didn’t know that’s what you were doing. I just figured you were being nice, sending me those flowers, taking me to the movies and those picnic lunches on the beach. I just thought you were showing me how much you appreciated me…”

  “In bed?”

  “Yes.”

  “And that’s what I was afraid of,” he said, pulling her closer to him. “I didn’t want you to think it was all about sex, because it wasn’t. When I told you I would give you anything and everything you wanted, Gemma, I meant it. All you had to do was ask for it, even my love, which is something you already had.”

  She rested her head on his bare chest for a moment and then she lifted her head to look back at him. “Do you think you wasted three years living here, Callum?”

  He shook his head. “No. Being here gave me a chance to love you from afar while watching you grow and mature into the beautiful woman you are today. I saw you gain your independence and then wear it like a brand of accomplishment in everything you did. I was so proud of you when you landed that big contract with the city, because I knew exactly what you could do. That gave me the idea to buy that house for you to decorate. That will be our home and the condo will become our private retreat when we want to spend time at the beach.”

  He paused a moment. “I know you’ll miss your family and all, and—”

  Gemma reached up and placed a finger to his lips. “Yes, I will miss my family, but my home will be with you. We will come back and visit and that will be good enough for me. I want to be in Sydney with you.”

  Callum didn’t say anything for a moment and then asked. “What about your business here?”

  Gemma smiled. “I’m closing it. I’ve already opened another shop in Sydney, thanks to you. Same name but different location.”

  Her smile widened. “I love you, Callum. I want to be your wife and have your babies and I promise to always make you happy.”

  “Oh, Gemma.” He reached out and cupped her face with both hands, lightly brushing his lips against hers before taking it in a hard kiss, swallowing her breath in the process.

  He shifted to lie down on the bed and took her with him, placing her body on top of his while he continued to kiss her with a need that made every part of his body feel sensitive.

  He tore his mouth away from hers to pull in a much-needed breath, but she fisted her hands in his hair to bring his face closer, before nibbling on his lips and licking around the corners of his mouth. And when he released a deep moan, she slid her tongue into his mouth and begin kissing him the way she’d gotten used to him kissing her.

  Callum felt his control slipping and knew this kiss would be imprinted on his brain forever. He deepened the kiss, felt his engorged sex press against the apex of her thighs, knowing just what it wanted. Just what it needed.

  Just what it was going to get.

  He pulled his mouth away long enough to adjust her body over his. While staring into her eyes, he pushed upward and thrust into her, immediately feeling her heat as he buried himself deep in her warmth. He pulled out and thrust in again while the hard nipples of her breasts grazed his chest.

  And then she began riding him, moving her body on top of his in a way that had him catching his breath after every stroke. Together, they rode, they gave and took, mated in a way that touched everything inside of him; had him chanting her name over and over.

  Then everything seemed to explode and he felt her body when it detonated. He soon followed, but continued hammering home, getting all he could and making her come again.

  “Callum!”

  “That’s it, my love, feel the pleasure. Feel our love.”

  And then he leaned up and kissed her, took her mouth with a hunger that should already have been appeased. But he knew he would always want this. He would always want her, and he intended to never let her regret the day she’d given him her heart.

  * * *

  Totally sated, Gemma slowly opened her eyes and, like so many other times over the past weeks, Callum was in bed with her, and she was wrapped in his embrace. She snuggled closer and turned in his arms to find him watching her with satisfied passion in the depth of his green eyes.

  She smiled at him. “I think we broke the bed.”

  He returned her smile and tightened his arms around her. “Probably did. But it can be fixed.”

  “If not, we can stay at my place,” she offered.

  “That will work.”

  At that moment the phone rang and he shifted their bodies to reach and pick it up. “That’s probably Mom, calling to make sure things between us are all right.”

  He picked up the phone. “Hello.”

  He nodded a few times. “Okay, we’re on our way.”

  He glanced over at Gemma and smiled. “That was Dillon. Chloe’s water broke and Ramsey rushed her to the hospital. Looks like there’s going to be a new Westmoreland born tonight.”

  * * *

  It didn’t take long for Callum and Gemma to get to the hospital, and already it was crowded with Westmorelands. It was almost 3:00 a.m. If anyone was curious as to why they were all together at that time of the morning, no one mentioned it.

  “The baby is already here,” Bailey said, excited. “We have a girl, just like we wanted.”

  Callum couldn’t help throwing his head back and laughing. Good old Ram had a daughter.

  “How’s Chloe?” Gemma asked.

  “Ramsey came out a few moments ago and said she’s fine,” Megan said. “The baby is a surprise.”

  “Yes, we didn’t expect her for another week,” Dillon said grinning. He glanced over at his pregnant wife, Pam, and smiled as he pulled her closer to him. “That makes me nervous.”

  “Has anyone called and told Chloe’s father?”

  “Yes,” Chloe’s best friend, Lucia, said smiling. “He’s a happy grandpa and he’ll be here sometime tomorrow.”

  “What’s the baby’s name?” Callum asked.

  It was Derringer who spoke up. “They are naming her Susan after Mom. And they’re using Chloe’s mom’s name as her middle name.”

  Gemma smiled. She knew Chloe had lost her mother at an early age, too. “Oh, that’s nice. Our parents’ first grand. They would be proud.”

  “They are proud,” Dillon said, playfully tapping her nose.

  “Hey, is this an engagement ring?” Bailey asked loudly, grabbing Gemma’s hand.

  Gemma glanced up at Callum and smiled lovingly. “Yes, we’re getting married.”

  Cheers went up in the hospital waiting room. The Westmorelands had a lot to celebrate.

  Zane glanced over at Dillon and Pam. “I guess now we’re depending on you two to keep us male Westmorelands in the majority.”

  “Yeah,” Derringer agreed.

  “You know the two of you could find ladies to marry and start making your own babies,” Megan said sweetly to her brothers. Her suggestion did exactly what she’d expected it to do—zip their lips.

  Callum pulled Gemma closer into his arms. They shared a look. They didn’t care if they had boys or girls—they just wanted babies. There were not going to be any hassles getting a big family out of them.

  “Happy?” Callum asked.

  “Extremely,” she whispered.

  Callum looked forward to when they would be alone again and he bent and told her just what he intended to do when they got back to the cabin.

  Gemma blushed. Megan shot her sister a look. “You okay, Gem?”

  Gemma smiled, glanced up at Callum and then back at her sister. “Yes, I couldn’t be better.”

  Epilogue


  There is nothing like a Westmoreland wedding, and this one was extra special because guests came from as far away as Australia and the Middle East. Gemma glanced out at the single ladies, waiting to catch her bouquet. She turned her back to the crowd, closed her eyes and threw it high over her head.

  When she heard all the cheering, she turned around and smiled. It had been caught by Lucia Conyers, Chloe’s best friend. She glanced across the room and looked at the two new babies. As if Susan’s birth had started a trend, Dillon and Pam’s son, Denver, came early, too.

  “When can we sneak away?”

  “You’ve waited three years. Another three hours won’t kill you,” she jokingly replied to her husband of two hours.

  “Don’t be so sure about that,” was his quick response.

  Their bags were packed and he was going to take her to India, as they’d planned before. Then they would visit Korea and Japan. She wanted to get decorating ideas with a few Asian pieces.

  Callum took his wife’s hand in his as they moved around the ballroom. He had been introduced to all the Atlanta Westmorelands before when he was invited to the Westmoreland family reunion as a guest. Now he would attend the next one as a bona fide member of the Westmoreland clan.

  “How soon do you want to start making a baby?”

  Gemma almost choked on her punch. He gave her a few pats on the back and grinned. “Didn’t mean for you to gag.”

  “Can we at least wait until we’re alone?”

  “To talk about it or to get things started?”

  Gemma chuckled as she shook her head. “Why do I get the feeling there will never be a dull moment with you?”

  He pulled her closer to him. “Because there won’t be. Remember I’m the one who knows what a Westmoreland wants. At least I know what my Westmoreland wants.”

  Gemma wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m an Austell now,” she said proudly.

  “Oh, yes, I know. And trust me—I will never let you forget it.”

  Callum then pulled her into his arms and in front of all their wedding guests, he kissed her with all the love flowing in his heart. He had in his arms everything he’d ever wanted.

  A WIFE FOR A WESTMORELAND

  BRENDA JACKSON

  One

  Lucia Conyers’s heart was beating like crazy as she made a sharp turn around the curve while the wheels of her SUV barely gripped the road. She knew she should slow down, but couldn’t. The moment she’d heard that Derringer Westmoreland had been taken to the emergency room due to an injury he sustained after being thrown from a horse, a part of her had nearly died inside.

  It didn’t matter that most of the time Derringer acted as though he didn’t know she existed or that he had a reputation in Denver as a ladies’ man—although she doubted the women he messed around with could really be classified as ladies. Derringer was one of Denver’s heartthrobs, a hottie if ever there was one.

  But what did matter, although she wished otherwise, was that she loved him and would probably always love him. She’d tried falling out of love with him several times and just couldn’t do it.

  Not even four years of attending a college in Florida had changed her feelings for him. The moment she had returned to Denver and he had walked into her father’s paint store to make a purchase, she’d almost passed out from a mixture of lust and love.

  Surprisingly, he had remembered her. He’d welcomed her back to town and asked her about school. But he hadn’t asked her out, or offered to share a drink somewhere for old time’s sake. Instead, he had gathered up the merchandise he’d come to the store to buy and left.

  Her obsession with him had started back in high school when she and his sister Megan had worked on a science project together. Lucia would never forget the day that Megan’s brother had come to pick them up from the library. She’d almost passed out when she first laid eyes on the handsome Derringer Westmoreland.

  She thought she’d died and gone to heaven, and when they were introduced, he smiled at her, showing a pair of dimples that should be outlawed on anyone, especially a man. Her heart had melted then and there and hadn’t solidified since. That introduction had taken place a few months after her sixteenth birthday. Now she was twenty-nine and she still got goose bumps whenever she thought about that first meeting.

  Ever since her best friend, Chloe, had married Derringer’s brother Ramsey, she saw more of Derringer, but nothing had changed. Whenever he saw her he was always nice to her. But she knew he really didn’t see her as a woman he would be interested in.

  So why wasn’t she getting on with her life? Why was she risking it now by taking the roads to his place like a madwoman, needing to see for herself that he was still in one piece? When she’d gotten the news, she’d rushed to the hospital only to receive word from Chloe that he’d been released and was now recuperating at home.

  He would probably wonder why she, of all people, was showing up at his place to check on him. She wouldn’t be surprised if some woman was already there waiting on him hand and foot. But at the moment it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but to make sure for herself that Derringer was okay. Even the threat of possible thunderstorms this evening hadn’t kept her away. She hated thunderstorms, and yet she had left her home to check on a man who barely knew she was alive.

  It was a really stupid move, but she continued to speed down the road, deciding she would consider the foolishness of her actions later.

  * * *

  The loud sound of thunder blasting across the sky practically shook the house and awakened Derringer. He immediately felt a sharp pain slice through his body, the first since he’d taken his pain medication, which meant it was time to take more.

  Wrenching at the pain, he slowly pulled himself up in bed, reached across the nightstand and grabbed the pills his sister Megan had laid out for him. She’d said not to take more before six, but a quick glance at his clock said that it was only four and he needed the relief now. He was aching all over and his head felt as if it had split in two. He felt sixty-three instead of a mere thirty-three.

  He had been on Sugar Foot’s back less than three minutes when the mean-spirited animal had sent him flying. More than his ego had gotten bruised, and each and every time he breathed against what felt like broken ribs he was reminded of it.

  Derringer eased back down onto the bed and laid flat on his back. He stared at the ceiling, waiting for the pain pills to kick in.

  * * *

  Derringer’s Dungeon.

  Lucia slowed her truck when she came to the huge wooden marker in the road. Any other time she would have found it amusing that each of the Westmorelands had marked their property with such fanciful names. Already she had passed Jason’s Place, Zane’s Hideout, Canyon’s Bluff, Stern’s Stronghold, Riley’s Station and Ramsey’s Web. She’d heard when each Westmoreland reached the age of twenty-five they inherited a one-hundred-acre tract of land in this part of the state. That was why all the Westmorelands lived in proximity to each other.

  She nervously gnawed on her bottom lip, finally thinking she might have made a mistake in coming here when she pulled into the yard and saw the huge two-story structure. This was her first time at Derringer’s Dungeon and from what she’d heard, most women only came by way of an invite.

  So what was she doing here?

  She brought her car to a stop and cut off the engine and just sat there a moment as reality set in. She had acted on impulse and of course on love, but the truth of the matter was that she had no business being here. Derringer was probably in bed resting. He might even be on medication. Would he be able to come to the door? If he did, he would probably look at her as if she had two heads for wanting to check on him. In his book they were acquaintances, not even friends.

  She was about to back out and leave, when she noticed the rain had started to come down harder and a huge box that had been left on the steps of the porch was getting wet. The least she could do was to move it to an area on the porch where the rain coul
dn’t touch it.

  Grabbing her umbrella out the backseat, she hurriedly got out of the truck and ran toward the porch to move the box closer to the door. She jumped at the sound of thunder and drew in a sharp breath when a bolt of lightning barely missed the top of her head.

  Remembering what Chloe had once told her about how the Westmoreland men were notorious for not locking their doors, she tried the doorknob and saw what her best friend had said was true. The door was not locked.

  Slowly opening the door, she stuck her head in and called out in a whisper in case he was downstairs sleeping on the sofa instead of upstairs. “Derringer?”

  When he didn’t answer, she decided she might as well bring the box inside. The moment she entered the house, she glanced around, admiring his sister Gemma’s decorating skills. Derringer’s home was beautiful, and the floor-to-ceiling windows took full advantage of the mountain view. She was about to ease back out the door and lock it behind her when she heard a crash followed by a bump and then a loud curse.

  Acting on instinct, she took the stairs two at a time and stumbled into several guest bedrooms before entering what had to be the master bedroom. It was decorated in a more masculine theme than all the others. She glanced around and then she saw him lying on the floor as if he’d fallen out of bed.

  “Derringer!”

  She raced over to him and knelt down beside him, trying to ignore the fact that the only clothing he had on was a pair of black briefs. “Derringer? Are you all right?” she asked, a degree of panic clearly in her voice. “Derringer?”

  He slowly opened his eyes and she couldn’t stop the fluttering of her heart when she gazed down into the gorgeous dark depths. The first thing she noticed was they were glassy, as if he’d taken one drink too many…or probably one pill too many. She then took a deep breath when a slow smile touched the corners of his lips and those knock-a-girl-off-her-feet dimples appeared in his cheeks.

  “Well, now, aren’t you a pretty thing,” he said in slurred speech. “What’s your name?”

 

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