Authors: Hayden Braeburn
Dance With Me (17 page)
~*~
Kat marveled at the transformation of the Everett's home. The living room was decorated with garlands of cream roses and greenery down the banisters, along the windows, and at the end of each chair row, lit with standing candelabras, and filled with the music of a string quartet. She clutched the spectacular bouquet of roses, stephanotis and ivy in her hands, the long stems wrapped in the same lace as her dress. The details were perfect, every piece tying to the other in ways she may not have thought about herself. Very briefly she wondered how much he had spent before Cassidy squeezed her elbow. “Welcome to the family, Kat,” she whispered before making her way down the aisle, Cam on her heels. When the music changed, Kat glided down the aisle toward Mason, a smile on her face.
“
The moment I drenched you with my mocha, I knew you were special. The day I first watched you dance, I knew you were talented. The day you made me pull over to save that stray dog, I knew you would be a wonderful mother, but the day you told me you loved me was the best day of my life." He paused, smiling down at the beautiful woman he would soon call his wife. “Until today. You are my rock, my touchstone, my heart.” He swallowed then. He hadn't expected to get choked up, and looking at Kat while tears clung to her lashes wasn't helping. “I am proud to call you my love, my salvation, my match, my wife.”
Although she didn't have the benefit of planning, Kat blinked away her tears and gave Mason vows from her heart. “If you had told me five years ago I would be standing here now, in the yard behind the Everett Estate, marrying the oldest son, I would have laughed.” She giggled. “I adore you, Mason Everett. You are everything a man should be. You are tough when you need to be tough, thoughtful when you need to be thoughtful, patient when you need to be patient—and lord knows you need to be patient with me—and kick-ass when you need to be kick-ass.” She paused as a laugh rolled through the guests. “I am honored to be your wife, and proud to call you husband.”
~*~
“
So, Mrs. Everett,” Mason started before dropping a kiss on Kat's upturned lips, “are you going to kill me for springing this on you?”
Kat laughed at her husband's hopeful expression. “Why would I do that?” She hugged him closer. “This was perfect.”
He grinned. “At first, it was going to just be a party. Then it was a black-tie party—I have no idea how that happened—and when Cassidy found out, she suggested we just turn it into a wedding.”
She gasped. “Wait. The sister that went to your father to stop our wedding helped plan this?”
“
Sure did,” he affirmed with a nod. “She wanted to do something to make up for jumping to conclusions.” He paused, lowering his voice to a barely audible whisper, “She doesn't like when she's wrong.”
“
Who does?” She dropped her gaze to her dress. “Where did you find this gorgeous thing?”
“
Michaela made it.”
Her friend and costumer had been making her dresses for so many years, she could probably rattle off Kat's measurements in her sleep. She pulled from the standard hold they were in to wrap her arms around his neck. “I can't believe this. It's like a dream.”
“
Believe me, babe, it's real.”
“
Good thing,” she said, a smile on her lips. “Otherwise, I'd never, ever wake up.”
COMING SOON!
Fight For Me
The Everetts of Tyler, Book 2
No fucking way he was calling Cassidy in to help him pee, he thought as he struggled with his shorts. After a less than restful night, he was fighting more than he had the night before. Finally conceding defeat, he limped out of the bathroom without wasting time trying to tie the drawstring, letting his shorts hang on his hips. He wasn't going far, and she had promised to take him home for clothes today. He still couldn't believe she had taken him in when he was discharged from the hospital, promising to help in whatever way she could and chauffeur him around while he couldn't drive. Or use the right side of his body. Or tie his own damn basketball shorts.
Cassidy rounded the corner just as Dylan came down the hall and sucked in a breath. Dammit, she had to get him into some clothes—she was getting entirely too used to a half-dressed man in her house. She had the fleeting thought of licking him all over before she pushed it aside and chose a more suitable greeting. She was supposed to be taking care of him, helping him heal, getting him back on his feet, not waking up in sweaty sheets after hot and heavy dreams about those in her care. She shook her head, sending her ponytail swishing behind her. “Morning. How are you feeling today?” There, that sounded like a reasonable greeting.
“
Besides the fact that I can barely take care of myself, I'm fine,” he said, sweeping his left arm down towards shorts that chose that moment to slip.
Oh lord. His shorts were hanging on by a thread and she was torn between helping him by pulling them up or helping herself by pulling them down. She gave herself a mental kick.
Get a hold of yourself, Everett.
She hoped her blatant hunger wasn't telegraphed on her face.
Dylan caught the runaway shorts with his left hand, but not before revealing enough for Cassidy's heart to speed, thumping loudly in her ears.
His golden eyes heated as he held on the waistband. “Can you help?”
She bit her lip. He knew exactly what he was doing. With trembling fingers, Cassidy tied his shorts, yet couldn't bring herself to tear her hands away from his body.
Cassidy was touching him, and even in his broken and battered state, his body responded. There really was nothing he could do. “Uh, Cassidy...”
She watched him harden and lengthen beneath the red fabric and barely resisted the urge to run her hands over his hardness. Wow.
She should step away. Run away. Anything. Instead of heeding the warning bells in her head, she skimmed her hands up his washboard abs to his hard chest. How could he look so amazing in a sling and gauze? She scooted closer until her hard nipples were against his bandaged torso, separated by only the thin cotton of her shirt. Aching to be closer to him, she shifted to encircle his neck with her arms. He was so tall, she still had to tilt her head to look into his molten gold eyes, the heat of his body burning her through her clothes. She shouldn't be here like this, but she didn't care. She could worry and feel guilty tomorrow.
Ah, hell. He had a warm willing woman wrapped around him, and he had to kiss her. He bent his head to brush his mouth over hers, tasting her morning coffee and a hint of peanut butter. She opened beneath his lips, her tongue sliding against his, and it drove him out of his mind. He changed the angle to deepen the kiss, crushing her closer to him with his left arm. His body protested with a sharp pain, but he didn't care. Cassidy was the best kind of painkiller.
She didn't know how long they kissed, but she had to stop before she mounted a battered man. Reluctantly, she pulled away. “Um... Wow.” Understatement of the year.
“
I could kiss you all day,” he told her truthfully, his breath ragged.
“
I had to stop.” She blushed, running her tongue over her bottom lip. “Otherwise, I'd hurt you.”
“
I'm a big boy,” he said with a smirk.
She couldn't resist. She ran her hand over the bulge in his shorts. “Yes, yes you are.” She pulled her hand away, clenching her fingers into a fist. She shouldn't touch him. Quickly, she turned to face the wall. Maybe if she couldn't see him, she could calm her hormones. She took a deep breath, held it for a moment before letting it out slowly. “I really, really want to do all kinds of things to you I shouldn't.” She sighed. “For so many reasons.”
He turned her around with his left hand to silence her with another kiss, shorter but no less passionate. “I'm sure we can find a way.” He kissed her again then, stroking her with his tongue. “If you want.”
Oh, did she want. She was practically dripping on the floor, but wanting a man with such intensity was foreign to her. Coupled with the circumstances, she couldn't risk it. This was a man unafraid to die in the defense of others, a hero many times over. This was a man who could break down her walls, and as tempting as he was, she refused to open herself up for that. He was only here until he was able to take care of himself, and then he would disappear. She straightened. “I just don't want to hurt you.” She stepped from his embrace, wrapped her arms around her midsection. “I don't do casual sex.”
He crossed to her, tipped her chin up with his left hand. “What made you think I was lookin' for casual?”
About the Author
A Virginia native, Hayden Braeburn now finds herself among the bluegrass and rolling hills of Kentucky. Married to her own (former) Marine, and mother to two incredible children, she toils at a day job she actually loves, writing whenever she has a free minute. Admittedly, that makes for a long time between chapters of her serial, SPEEDING (and she really hates to admit how long it takes to write a book) but she sincerely hopes her pieces are worth the wait. Visit her website,
http://haydenbraeburn.weebly.com
.
Twitter: @HaydenBraeburn
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