It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time

by Kylie Scott

  “You ready to go?” asked Pete.

  I nodded, letting him slide his fingers between mine, holding on tight.

  “Don’t wait up,” I said. “And thank you!”

  Dad grumbled something, but Pete just raised his free hand to wave goodbye, keeping us moving. Down the front steps, and out to the driveway where his truck waited. The night was perfect and full of promise. Carefully, he lifted me into the passenger seat.

  “I can manage,” I said.

  “You shouldn’t have to.” He leaned in, licking his lips. Something about his gaze seemed off. Whatever lay beyond intense, that’s what was in his eyes. “We’re doing this right, yeah?”

  I nodded somewhat hesitantly.

  “So instead of the local pub, we’re going to go have a nice dinner. I booked us into a fancy restaurant with beach views,” he said. “Best steak you’ve ever eaten, I promise.”

  “Sounds great.”

  “Okay. How are you feeling?”

  “Fine.”

  “Good.”

  He carefully closed the door, walking around the front of the vehicle. The engine rumbled to life, his hands gripping the steering wheel tight. Seemed the man was even more nervous about this than I was. Which was nice. His taking it all so seriously, thinking it was as important as I did. Yay for slow and steady winning the race. My hopes were sky-high.

  “Your father said you went to check out an apartment at Woombye today?”

  “Yes. It was nice.”

  His chin jerked.

  “I think I’m going to take it.”

  “Great. That’s great,” he said, pulling out onto the road and driving at a sedate pace down the street. “You found a place fast.”

  “Yeah.”

  His fingers flexed around the steering wheel, knuckles showing white. Next a muscle jumped in his jaw.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Yep. Great.”

  At the corner, he stopped, checking traffic both ways. It was clear. Not another headlight in sight. Yet for some reason, we still weren’t moving.

  “Pete?”

  No response.

  “Hey…”

  “This is fucked.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”

  My stomach dropped. “What? What do you mean?”

  “No,” was all he said.

  Without further ado, he shifted the car into reverse, turning us around. Back toward home we went at a much faster rate than we’d left. The sharp angles of his cheekbones stood out in his face, lips a flat line. This couldn’t be happening.

  “I don’t, I don’t understand.” My throat ached, eyes blinking back tears. As if it would help.

  We pulled into the driveway and he jumped out of the vehicle. Leaving the engine running for a quick getaway no doubt. I’d been so stupid. Again. When would I learn? I didn’t even bother fighting him when he came around to my door, undid my seat belt, and lifted me out. Evicted me from his fucking vehicle. Fingers wrapped around my wrist, he dragged me back into the house. Bright lights dazzled my eyes, blurred in my watery vision. Dad and Shanti had moved into the kitchen, preparing dinner. Shanti froze and Dad frowned as Pete hauled me into the room. It was like something out of a nightmare. Everything inside of me was breaking. Shattering.

  “I’m not dating your daughter,” he said, hand like a manacle around my wrist. Not tight, but not moving either. I tried to shake him off, but he wouldn’t let go.

  No one said anything.

  “I’m sorry, Adele,” he continued. “I know that’s what you wanted, but it’s bullshit.”

  Dad just sort of growled.

  “Explain yourself, Peter,” said Shanti, holding a very large chopping knife.

  Pete, however, missed the clear threat on account of being busy flicking a tear off my cheek. His brows lowered, lips thinning. “Don’t do that, beautiful.”

  I stared at him, dumbfounded.

  “I’m not dating the woman I love who’s carrying my baby, because that’s messed up,” he said. “We’re getting married.”

  “W-we’re what?” I asked.

  He nodded, all enthused. “Yeah. We’re getting married. You’re living with me. No more of this nonsense, okay?”

  I blinked.

  “I just don’t think it’s good for either of us.” He gently wiped another tear off my face. “Seriously, beautiful, you’ve got to stop crying. You’re supposed to be staying calm. It’s not okay for you to get all upset.”

  I swallowed. “Why is this all happening now?”

  “Because it can’t wait. Don’t you see?” His eyes looked at me pleadingly. “Because if we wait long enough, then you’ll have the baby. And I’m good with kids. I open up around them. You know that. Either by your side, or in the house down the road, I will be the best dad for our child.”

  “I know.”

  “And that terrifies me.”

  I blinked. “What? Why?”

  “Because it would be so easy for both of us to settle for that.” He shook his head in determination. “But I don’t think that either of us deserves to settle. Not for one moment of the rest of our lives.”

  Shanti cleared her throat. “Am I to understand, Peter, that you’re asking Adele to marry you now?”

  “That’s right,” said Pete. “Well, I’m not asking. She might say no and want to try the going-slow thing again. Honest to God, I tried it—doesn’t work.”

  “You’re asking her to marry you because you love her?”

  “Yes.”

  “I see,” said Shanti. “I’m not entirely certain she’s aware of that fact.”

  Pete turned back to me, licked his lips. “I love you.”

  “You do?”

  He nodded just once. “Like crazy. You wanted me to see you. But, Adele, you’re all I see.”

  “Wow. Okay. This is, um, it’s kind of new.” I swallowed hard, trying to pull myself together. “Are you sure about this? When did you decide exactly?”

  “After you went back to Sydney.”

  “That was months ago.”

  “Yeah. Sorry about that,” he said. “Just took me a while to get it straight in my head.”

  I had nothing.

  Dad crossed his arms. “Are you asking for my daughter’s hand in marriage?”

  “No,” said Pete. “I’m telling you that I love her and we’re getting married. She’s everything to me. Took me a while to figure out, but I know it now.”

  “And you’re definitely sure about that?”

  “Yes. Positive. So we’re good?” he asked, turning back to me. “Don’t get me wrong, beautiful. More than happy to take you out to dinner or the movies or whatever whenever you want. But I’m not dating you, because this isn’t casual or temporary or whatever. This is you and me together forever now, okay?”

  “Huh,” I said, still catching up. “This isn’t just a reaction to me finding an apartment, is it?”

  “No, though I fucking hate that idea too.”

  I just stared.

  “I need a yes, Adele.”

  “You love me and you’re mine?”

  “Completely,” he answered without a moment’s hesitation.

  I bit back a smile. Suddenly, I could breathe again. All of the angst and heartache were falling away. “You really do need to ask me to marry you, not tell me. That’s not cool.”

  “Yeah.” He scratched his head. “Sorry about that. I got a bit freaked out that maybe I’d waited too long and messed things up.”

  “No, you haven’t.”

  He smiled. And it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. “Good to hear.”

  “Say it again.”

  He leaned in, pressing his lips against the corner of my mouth, my cheek, my earlobe. “I love you, Adele. I’ll buy you a big-ass ring and get down on one knee. Do whatever you want . . . I just need a yes from you.”

  “You do, huh?” I relaxed against the hard length of his body, grinning. How completely in
sane this all was. No way could I get my mind around it. But my heart was hammering, my head spinning, and all I could see was me and him together. Me and him having a family. Amazing. There was so much goodness laid out in front of me for years to come. “Yes. I-I’ll marry you. I will.”

  “Thank you,” was all he said.

  Epilogue

  “What are you doing creeping in here?”

  “Like a ninja,” I added. “Creeping in here like a total ninja. That’s what you meant to say, right?”

  Pete laughed. Light dazzled my eyes, my man strolling toward me with a smile on his face. “What are you doing creeping in here like a totally pregnant ninja with a key to the front door?”

  “Don’t diminish my accomplishment,” I huffed. “And we ninjas are always well prepared.”

  “Sorry,” he said, hands sliding around my waist. “Decided against the not-seeing-each-other-the-night-before thing, huh?”

  I shrugged. “I got bored and then I got nervous, so then I just decided I may as well come home.”

  Despite Shanti’s protests, we’d organized our wedding on the fly. Only a little over a month after he’d proposed, we were going to tie the knot. Shanti had been keen on organizing a marital extravaganza, possibly after the baby was born. But Pete and I just wanted a simple ceremony on the beach. I wanted to take things easy and just enjoy where we were at.

  “Good idea,” he said. “I missed you.”

  “You did, huh?”

  Instead of answering, he showed me, kissing me sweet and soft. Seducing me with his lips. Of course, as nice as it was, it wasn’t remotely enough. Nothing was ever enough when it came to him. Next his tongue was in my mouth and oh God . . . the taste of him. I fisted my fingers in his sleep shirt while his hands slid into my hair, holding me fast. Before I knew it, he had me cornered, backed against the front door. Not that I was trying to escape. Hell no. I was actively trying to climb him like a tree, wanting to wrap my legs around him and never let go. He grabbed hold of my ass, lifting me into position.

  “Bedroom?” he asked, breathing heavy. Every bit as excited as I was.

  “Here. Against the door.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah. Hurry.”

  He clucked his tongue. “Always in such a rush . . . We have to go easy—precious cargo.”

  “Neville’s fast asleep.” I moaned. “We’re good to go. Last chance ever for sex outside of wedlock. And besides, there’s every chance the entirety of tomorrow night will be taken up with you patiently extricating a thousand bobby pins from my hair while I sit there exhausted. I recommend you get some while the getting’s good.”

  He just laughed some more. God, I loved that sound.

  Very soon the baby belly would be too big for this position. Best to make the most of it while we still could. And I was situated in the perfect place so his hardness rubbed against me. Our mouths fused together the whole while, he shoved his pants down, getting his dick in hand. There was no time or need to take off my baggy sleeping shorts. He pushed the fabric aside, lined himself up with my core, and plunged his cock in deep.

  “Pete,” I whispered, holding onto him for all I was worth.

  Face buried in my neck, he fucked me slow and easy. The rolling motion of his pelvis, burying his hard length inside me—it was perfect. The way his body cradled mine, holding me against the door, made for a maddeningly delicious climb to orgasm. My clit pounded with my own heartbeat, all of my insides awakening and aching with need. When he rubbed his pelvis against mine, I swear my blood turned to lava, hotter than the sun. Gradually he gathered speed, increasing his momentum. The door started rattling with each thrust, grunts sounding deep in his throat. We were like soon-to-be-married animals in some sort of mating frenzy rutting on each other. My fingernails dug into his neck and back, urging him on as he pounded into me. Sensation built and built, my lungs burning and heart thrashing.

  Everything in me centered on him, on what he did to me. Nothing else mattered.

  When it came, it tore through me, sending my mind floating free. My body was a useless, trembling thing. Pete shouted, hips shoving his cock deeper and deeper until he finally slowed. My floaty mind was free.

  Carefully, he set me back on my feet, pushing my mussed hair out of my face. His chest rose and fell furiously as he tried to regain his breath. “You okay, beautiful?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Coming over here and using me for sex the night before our wedding.” He tutted. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

  And I totes would have been, had I not been busy yawning.

  “Come on. Bedtime for you, my blushing bride.”

  He picked me up, carrying me into the bedroom in full romance mode. Our bedroom. My clothes hung in half the armoire; my makeup cluttered up part of the bathroom. And Pete didn’t mind at all. He’d moved his office to the other end of the house so the room closest to ours could be turned into a nursery. Everything was as it should be. Because this was where we were at our best, together.

  “I love you,” he whispered, placing me in the middle of the bed before climbing on after me.

  “I love you too.”

  “Thank goodness for that,” he said. “Could have been awkward otherwise.”

  I snorted.

  “Want to get married tomorrow?” he asked, a smile in his voice.

  “Hmm, why not?” I grinned, overflowing with happiness, overwhelmed with that feeling you have when everything in the universe seems to be exactly how it should be. That feeling was as rare as it was beautiful.

  “Alright then,” he said. “Sounds like a plan.”

  Purchase Kylie Scott’s Other Books

  Trust

  It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time

  The Stage Dive Series

  Lick

  Play

  Lead

  Deep

  The Dive Bar Series

  Dirty

  Twist

  Chaser

  The Flesh Series

  Flesh

  Skin

  Flesh Series: Shorts

  Novellas

  Heart’s A Mess

  Colonist’s Wife

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  Keep reading for a free sample of

  TRUST

  Chapter One

  “Don’t forget the corn chips!” yelled Georgia, hanging out of her car window.

  “Got it.”

  “And hot salsa, Edie. None of that mild crap, you coward.”

  I flipped her off and kept walking, watching the ground.

  Rain had turned every pothole in the Drop Stop’s parking lot into a mini-swamp. We were finally out of a drought, so yay for rain. Bottle caps and cigarette stubs were floating like tiny boats on murky waters. The Northern California wind made waves, blurring the yellow light reflecting off the Open sign. Everything else was dark. Things were quiet in Auburn around midnight. Georgia and I were forced to drive across town to meet our movie marathon snacking needs. Watching all eight Harry Potter films in a row being our contribution as citizens of the Endurance Capital of the world.

  “Oh, Oreos!”

  As if I’d forget the Oreos, I said to myself, entering the shitty little store.

  What you’re most likely to drop at the Drop Stop are your standards. And I had. It had been my black yoga pants, a sports bra, and a baggy old blue T-shirt versus Georgia’s satin unicorn-print slip. In the jammies most likely to be mistaken for normal clothing competition, I was the clear winner. I don’t think it occu
rred to either of us to actually bother getting dressed. Too much effort for summer break.

  Inside, the fluorescent lights were dazzling, the air-conditioning cold enough to give me goose bumps. But there it was. An aisle’s worth of every bad food choice you could possibly make and as my ass could testify, I’d made them all. Happily and repeatedly.

  I grabbed a plastic shopping basket and got busy.

  There were only a couple of other customers. A tall guy in a black hoodie and some other kid, talking in low voices, over by the beer fridge. I highly doubted either one of them was of legal age to be drinking. One of the local college students manned the shop counter, identifiable by the textbook he’d chosen to hide behind. Note to self: Study like crazy all through senior year if you want an offer from Berkeley.

  Hershey bars, Reese’s Pieces, Oreos, Gummy Bears, Milk Duds, Skittles, Twinkies, Doritos, and a jar of salsa. The bottle proclaimed it to be hotter than hell; there was even a demon dancing on the side. It all went into the basket, each and every major processed food group represented. Still, there was a little room left and it’d be silly not to go all in since we’d driven to the other side of town. Why, it’d take a good ten to fifteen minutes at least just to get back to Georgia’s parents’ place. Sustenance for the journey alone would be required.

  A tube of Pringles for good luck and prosperity, and we were done.

  I dumped my basket on the counter, making college boy jump. Guess he’d been seriously engrossed in his studies. Startled brown eyes gawked at me from behind wire-rimmed glasses.

  Shit, he was cute.

  Immediately, I turned away, only to be facing an entire stand of titty magazines. Wow. I sincerely hoped a percentage of sales went toward helping women with lower-back problems. Some of those breasts were scarily big. Nothing much could be seen through the filthy window, but it might have started raining again. So wearing flip-flops had probably been a mistake.