by Marie Force
“Best thing ever, but only because I married you.”
“That’s a good answer.”
“What about you?”
“I’m actually relieved.”
Her brows knitted adorably. “How come?”
“I was afraid you might run away from me before we could make it official.”
“I thought about it.”
“I know you did. Why do you think I’ve spent every waking minute with you for the last two weeks?”
“It wasn’t because of the holidays?”
Adam shook his head. “I was afraid to give you too much time to yourself to think about how much better off I’d be without you when that couldn’t be further from the truth.”
“I still feel guilty about marrying you, knowing I might not be able to—”
He silenced her with a deep, passionate kiss that he hoped removed all doubt from her mind that he’d gotten exactly what—and who—he wanted most tonight. “No more of that. No more guilt or thoughts of running away or anything other than happily ever after. You hear me?”
She slipped her arms around his neck and went up on tiptoes to kiss him. “I hear you.”
“Do you really? Do you know I mean every word I said to you tonight? That I love you no matter what happens? That I love you even if we can never have children the old-fashioned way? Even if you gain weight or lose some of your gorgeous hair?”
Her big eyes were shiny with unshed tears. “I believe you, Adam. And I’m so very thankful that you feel that way about me. It makes me feel like the luckiest girl in the world.”
“We’re both lucky to have been on that ferry together last summer. That was fate bringing us together at our lowest point and showing us a whole new path forward together. I honestly believe that.” He kissed her neck and nibbled on her earlobe. “I don’t want you to spend one more second worrying about what might happen. I want you to stay completely focused on right here and right now.” He cupped her breasts and ran his thumbs over her nipples, which tightened into hard points under her dress. “Can you do that?”
“Mmm, if you keep that up, I certainly won’t be thinking about anything else but you.”
“I plan to keep this up forever,” he said, lightly pinching her nipples to make his point.
She gasped and leaned into him, pressing her body against his erection.
Adam reached around to her back, found the zipper and lowered it slowly, dragging his fingers over her heated skin as he went. Her face was flushed with excitement, her eyes bright with desire and her lips swollen from their kisses.
“Why are you staring at me?”
“Because I’ve never seen anyone look more beautiful than you do right now.”
“You don’t look too bad yourself, Mr. McCarthy, but then again, I’ve always thought you were hot, even when I was dating your brother.”
“We’ve agreed to never speak of that.”
“With him,” she said, giggling again. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides, he’s not too shabby to look at either.”
Adam scowled playfully as he helped her out of the dress, his eyes boggling at the sight of the sexy getup he found underneath. “Don’t remind me that you used to sleep with my brother.”
“That was a lifetime ago. It has no bearing on us.”
“I know, baby. I feel like my whole life began all over again that day I found you on the ferry when you were swearing off men, and I was prepared to never have sex again if it meant I had to get involved with another woman.”
“That vow didn’t last long,” she said, flashing the saucy smile he adored.
“Let’s talk about what you’re wearing.”
She took a step back from him so he could get the full impact. “This old thing?”
It was almost too much for his brain to process—a bustier that showcased her full breasts, trim waist and curvy hips, a garter belt, sheer thigh-high stockings and three-inch heels. She was a sexy vision in virginal white, and she was all his for the rest of his life. “Someone pinch me, please. I can’t possibly be married to the sexiest woman to ever draw a breath.”
“Stop,” she said, her chest and face flushing in embarrassment.
“Never.” He closed the small space between them and ran his hands down her back to cup her cheeks, which had been left bare by a thong. “Do I have Tiffany Taylor to thank for this heart-stopping moment?”
“Perhaps,” she said with a coy smile.
“She’s very, very good at what she does. So good, in fact, that all my plans for a slow, sexy seduction of my wife have gone right out the window in favor of a quick, hard, urgent fuck.”
“Yes, please.”
“Mmmm, such lovely manners from a woman wearing a getup intended to make her husband insane.”
She removed his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. “Are you insane?”
“Absolutely, positively, out of my mind crazy about you.”
“We can go slow the next time,” she said, going to work on his belt and the button to his pants, which dropped into a pile at his feet. Her hands inside the back of his boxers, squeezing his ass, was nearly the end of him.
Adam helped her along by removing the shorts himself and walking her backward to the bed. “What’s about to happen here is all your fault, Mrs. McCarthy.”
“I can live with that.”
He came down on top of her, devouring her mouth with deep, passionate kisses.
She wrapped her arms and legs around him, pressing her heat against his cock and making him crazy with need.
Adam moved her thong to the side and thrust into her, groaning at the tight fit, the heat and the squeeze of her internal muscles. Nothing in his life could compare to the singular experience of being inside her, wrapped up in her, in love with her.
Abby made it even more intense when she clutched his ass and pulled him deeper into her.
He looked down at her, his eyes meeting hers in a moment of perfect unity. “Love you forever, Mrs. McCarthy.”
“Love you, too, Mr. McCarthy.”
Smiling, he hammered into her until they were coming—loudly—together.
“Holy wow,” she whispered, running her fingers through the sweaty strands of his hair.
“Holy loud sex.”
She laughed. “At least our families will know this marriage has been well and truly consummated.”
“Indeed.” He raised his head to kiss her softly. “No escaping now.”
“You’re stuck with me.”
“Good, because you’re all I need.”
Chapter 24
Alone in his room on the third floor, Slim was unbearably lonely for Erin, especially after hearing signs of marital bliss from the room down the hall. He who had slept alone for most of his life was suddenly tossing and turning without her to hold on to.
He wondered if she was feeling the same way, so he texted her, hoping she was still awake.
Favorite ice cream?
The message immediately showed as read, and he could see that she was replying. That was all it took to make him feel less lonely and breathless with anticipation as he waited to see what she had to say.
Depends on the season. Sherbet in the summer, and cookie dough the rest of the year. What about you?
Rocky road all year long, baby.
What’re you doing awake?
Missing you. How did you ruin a successful career of sleeping alone for me in just one week?
The same way you ruined it for me. Does that mean you didn’t pick up a single girl to take home from the wedding?
Slim knew she was joking, but the idea of her thinking he would do that had him calling her. “None of the single girls at the wedding were you,” he said when she answered. “So no pickups for me.”
“That’s nice to hear.” Her voice sounded sexy and husky and way too far away.
“I hope you know I mean that. We’ve started something here, and I’m not going to run o
ut and get laid the second you’re somewhere else.”
“Also good to know.”
“What about you? Do I need to be worried?”
“Seeing as how I hadn’t gotten laid, as you put it, in two years before last week, I think you’re safe with me.”
“Two years? That’s a federal crime. A woman as hot and sexy as you needs regular care and servicing.”
“Servicing? Is that what they’re calling it these days?”
“I miss you.”
“So you said.”
“I mean I really miss you.”
“I really miss you, too.”
“I can’t wait months to see you again. You have to come with me to Evan’s wedding.”
“I hope you know I’d love to go. It’s just going to depend on how my dad is doing.”
“Of course. I don’t mean to pressure you.”
“Yes, you do,” she said, laughing.
“Maybe just a little. Can’t blame a guy for trying.” After a long pause, he said, “Tonight was incredible. I’ve never seen Adam so happy.”
“They’re a great couple.”
“So are we.”
“Are we a couple?”
“Why must you tease me? Didn’t we just say we aren’t planning to be with anyone else?”
“I think we did.”
“So doesn’t that make us a couple?”
“I suppose maybe it does.”
“Are you screwing with me, Erin?”
“Would I do that to you?”
“Yes, I believe you would,” he said, amused by her even if she was most definitely screwing with him.
“Who’s your favorite president?” she asked.
Though he realized she was steering the conversation away from serious stuff, he was okay with that. There’d be time to figure it all out later. “Ohh, that’s a tough one.” He took a long moment to consider his answer. “I’m going with Millard Fillmore.”
“Seriously?”
“Very seriously.”
“Why him?”
“I feel kind of bad for the guy. He was a lifelong public servant and the last of the Whigs to be president, but he never makes anyone’s top-ten presidents list.”
“So he’s your favorite because you feel sorry for him? That’s not a good reason.”
“Is he like the semicolons of presidents?”
Sputtering with laughter, she said, “Something like that.”
“Who’s your favorite?”
“Reagan.”
“So you’re a Reagan Republican, then?”
“Not really. I vote for people rather than parties, and I always thought he seemed like a nice guy. He was crazy about his wife, too. He wrote her the most amazing love letters.”
Note to self—look up the letters Reagan wrote to his wife. “They say she wore the pants in the White House.”
“I love that! Imagine all the West Wing suits back in the ’80s afraid of a ninety-pound woman. That’s the way it ought to be.”
So his girl was a card-carrying feminist, too. He liked that.
“Is Millard Fillmore really your favorite president?”
“Nah,” he said with a low chuckle. “I always liked to read about Kennedy.”
“I liked to read about his family. Imagine having nine kids!”
“Um, no, thank you very much.”
They talked for another hour about nothing in particular, but that was okay. He loved the sound of her voice and was interested in everything she had to say.
“You should get some sleep,” she said as the clock edged closer to two. “You’ve got a long day in the air tomorrow.”
“You’re right. I should get some Z’s, and so should you.”
“I’m glad you called.”
“I’m glad I called, too, but I still miss you.”
“Me, too.”
“Does this mean you’ll be my girlfriend?”
“Is that what you want?”
“I believe it is.”
“Okay.”
“Yes?”
“Okay generally means yes,” she said, laughing.
“And I’m your boyfriend?”
“Aren’t we kind of old for these titles?”
“Not at all. My eighty-six-year-old grandfather had ‘girlfriends’ until the day he died.”
“Something tells me you’re going to be just like him.”
“My gramps was a bit of a hound dog with the ladies at his nursing home, whereas I’m more of a one-girl-at-a-time kind of guy.”
“That’s good to know.”
“So that’s a yes on the boyfriend thing?”
“I haven’t had a boyfriend in a long, long time. I might need a refresher course on what’s involved.”
“You’re in luck. I’m a certified instructor.”
“Certified in what exactly?”
“Well, technically pilot training, but a lot of the skills are transferable to this situation.”
She laughed so hard, she couldn’t talk, which put a huge smile on his face.
“I’ll be calling my new girlfriend tomorrow. Will she take my call?”
“Yes, Slim,” she said with a sigh of what sounded like pleasure. God, he hoped so. “She’ll take your call.”
The next afternoon, Erin rolled her dad in his wheelchair to physical therapy, giving her mother a much-needed break from the hospital. They’d insisted she keep an annual New Year’s lunch date with friends and enjoy the time away. As they went, she was careful to step on each new floor tile with her left foot first. God only knew what would happen if she didn’t do that, and she certainly didn’t want to find out.
“Sorry to drag you away from your island,” Tom said, his speech halting but improving every day. In an ironic twist of OCD fate, his left side had been impaired by the aneurism, but the physical and occupational therapists had assured them he’d regain functionality eventually.
“Where else would I be when you’re in here? It’s no bother at all.”
“When will you see your pilot friend again?”
“I’m not sure yet. Maybe in a couple of weeks.” She wanted to go to the wedding in Anguilla more than she’d wanted anything in a very long time. The thought of a week in paradise with Slim was almost enough to make her drool.
“You should go be with him. I’m fine. The doctors said so.”
“I know, Dad, but I’m not going anywhere just yet.”
“I like him.”
Erin smiled. “I’m glad you do.”
“I like the way he looks at you.”
“I do, too.”
“You might want to think about keeping this one, Er Bear.”
The childhood nickname, which he hadn’t used in years, brought tears to her eyes. “You think so?” she asked, her voice hushed.
“Yeah.” When they arrived at the physical therapy department, Tom raised his right arm slowly, waggling his fingers in her direction.
Curious, Erin stepped around to the front of the chair and squatted down so she could see him, noting the slight sag on the left side of his mouth.
“Don’t do what you do with this guy.”
“What do I do?” Erin asked, genuinely baffled.
“Sabotage.” He held out his hand to her. “Remember that nice guy Dave? We liked him. You liked him. He liked you—a lot. But what did you do when it started getting serious? Took a job two hours away, which put a damper on the relationship. Then there was Miles. He was a good guy, too, until he invited you to meet his family. Remember what happened then?”
Astounded by his recall and the point he was trying to make, Erin nodded. She remembered all too well. For a guy who was recovering from brain surgery, he was awfully sharp.
“You broke up with him because you weren’t looking for anything serious—and meeting his family smacked of serious. Don’t do that this time, Er Bear. Mom and I aren’t going to live forever. I don’t want you to be alone in this world when we’re gone.”
�
��Don’t say that. You’re not going anywhere.”
“Not any time soon, but eventually we are. You’ve got a wonderful guy who’s crazy about you. Take a chance. Your brother wouldn’t want you hiding out in fear of losing someone else. He’d want you to live as fully as you possibly can.”
“I’m not doing that. I’m not hiding out.”
He raised a brow. “No? Sure seems that way to me sometimes.”
“How long have you been wanting to say these things?”
“Long time. Something about having your head nearly explode puts things into perspective. No time like the present to see my little girl happy. No one deserves it more than she does.”
Erin laughed and wiped away tears. “I’m so glad you didn’t die, Dad.”
“Me, too. I still want to walk my daughter down the aisle someday. It’s on my bucket list.”
She stood to hug him, holding on tight to one of her anchors. They’d been through the hell of losing Toby together and had survived, somehow.
The door to PT swung open. “Mr. Barton? We’re ready whenever you are.”
“Two hours of torture,” Tom whispered to Erin.
“Do what they tell you so we can get you out of here.” He was making such great progress that they were now thinking he’d be able to go right home rather than to rehab, which had been huge news earlier in the day.
“Don’t wait around,” Tom said. “Go take a walk or have something to eat. They’ll get me back to my room, and I’ll need a nap after they wear me out.”
“Okay. I’ll check on you later.” She kissed his cheek and watched the therapist roll him through the double doors. For a long time after he went in, she stood outside the doors, watching through the windows as the therapist transferred him from the chair to a table, where she put him through a series of exercises, focusing on his left side.
Erin thought about what he’d said, and couldn’t hide from the truth he’d exposed. Though it hadn’t been intentional, she was guilty of running away from relationships that got too serious for her to handle. Life was easier on the surface. No one got hurt. No one’s existence was shattered if they lost the one they loved.
