Don't Let Go (18 page)

He leaned over and kissed the back of her neck. “I've been thinking about being inside of you every damn night. It keeps me awake at night. Hot, sweating, and hard all damn night long.”

“Yes,” she said. “I've wanted you, too. Every night.”

He reached for her hands, twining his fingers with hers. He plunged them into the dishwater in the sink, the two of them tangled together as he drove into her with hard, fast thrusts, spurred on by the sounds she made as he moved against her.

“I can't stop thinking about you.” He shifted, easing out, only to slide back in and still.

“Brady.”

“Yeah.”

“Move.”

His lips lifted. “Where to?”

She squeezed his fingers. “You know where to.”

He removed one hand and slipped it across her sex, finding her clit. “Here?”

She laid her head against his chest. “Oh, yes. Definitely there.”

He moved then, using his slippery wet hand along with his cock to take her right to the edge. And when she tightened around him, he went faster, giving her the friction she needed to come.

And then he went with her, unable to hold back as she cried out with her orgasm, rocking back against him as she lost control.

It was the best damn orgasm he'd ever had. Hell, he felt light-headed.

He withdrew and they went into her bathroom to clean up.

She leaned against the bathroom counter. “You know, I'm never going to be able to stand at my sink and do the dishes ever again without thinking of sex.”

He laughed. “That's not a bad thing, is it?”

“No. Not a bad thing at all.”

He pulled her against him. “As long as it's me you're thinking about having sex with, I'd say it's a very good thing.”

She hooked her leg around his hip. “Oh, trust me, it's all you.”

That's all he needed to hear. He kissed her, intending for a light, easy, after-sex kiss. But it turned more passionate, and suddenly they were on the bed getting hot and tangled together all over again.

It was an hour later before they had cheesecake.

IF THERE WAS
one thing Megan knew about Chelsea, it was that she loved being the center of attention. So when they held her wedding shower that Saturday afternoon at the McCormack ranch, Chelsea ate it all up.

She didn't even seem to mind that the wedding prep was being handled with such a rush. In fact, she seemed happy about it.

As she sat and drank juice in the dining room with the girls, she seemed more relaxed than Megan had seen her in a while. Megan had actually expected Chelsea to be panicked—and have one of her typical lists. But that wasn't the case. She almost seemed serene, which was definitely not the usual Chelsea.

“I've turned over a new leaf,” Chelsea said as they sat with Emma, Jane, Des, Sam, and Molly. “Now that I'm pregnant and we've decided to get the wedding over with, I'm actually kind of . . . relieved. Is that bad?”

Emma laughed. “It's not bad at all. Wedding planning
can be stressful. Getting the wedding out of the way means you can enjoy planning for the baby.”

Chelsea nodded. “It probably helps that Bash didn't mind at all that we weren't going to have a huge blowout of a wedding. Just immediate family and friends, and then it's on to normal life.” When everyone looked at her, she added, “Okay, fine, as normal as Bash and I get, anyway. Plus we were lucky to find an available church and a venue for the reception on such short notice.”

“Don't forget to tell them about the dress,” Jane said.

“Oh, that's right. I found a dress.”

Sam's eyes widened. “You did?”

“I did. Also, it fits me perfectly. I'm not showing yet, so I don't have the baby belly issue to worry about. Jane went with me to the store since she's my matron of honor, and we found a dress for her as well.”

Jane beamed a smile. “It's like fate has smiled down on you. Everything is as it should be. And in a week, you'll have your wedding and you can settle in and wait for your awesome baby to arrive.”

“This is true.”

“You've been to the doctor?” Des asked.

Chelsea nodded. “Got the pregnancy confirmed by the OB, all official-like. He gave me an exam and told me I was ridiculously healthy and everything should be fine. “

“When are you due?” Emma asked.

Chelsea gave them all a serene smile. “Mid-December.”

“Aww,” Molly said. “If you're late, you could have a Christmas baby.”

“Or, if you're early,” Jane said, “a Thanksgiving baby.”

Chelsea laughed. “Either way, I'm happy. Like, obscenely happy. So is Bash. We're kind of disgusting right now.”

“You are not disgusting,” Jane said. “You're happy.”

“And what about you, Jane?” Des asked. “Still having baby yearnings now that Chelsea is all pregnant and confirmed?”

Jane beamed a smile. “I've talked to Will. He's totally on board the baby-making train.”

Emma's eyes widened and she placed her glass of iced tea on the table. “So you're going to try to get pregnant?”

“As we speak. I mean, not at this very moment or anything, but yes, we'd like to have a baby, so we're having sex all the time. Which, I have to tell you, is a lot of fun. And not easy to do when you have a husband who works strange hours and two kids who want a lot of attention when he's home.”

Molly laughed. “Try showering together. Or make a rule about the kids not interrupting you when you're in the bedroom together with the door closed.”

“We already have that rule. Unless someone is throwing up or bleeding, no one is allowed to come into the bedroom.”

Des's lips curved. “I'm going to have to remember that rule for when Benjamin is older.”

“But nightmares can totally usurp that rule, right?” Emma asked. “I can't imagine little ones having nightmares wouldn't trump the closed-door rule.”

“And thunderstorms,” Molly added. “I always hated those and would crawl into my parents' bed.”

“Or mine,” Emma said.

Molly laughed. “That's true.”

Jane nodded. “Of course. Frightened children can always come into the bedroom.”

“I should have brought my notebook,” Chelsea said. “I'm going to have to start making lists.”

Megan laughed. “You and your lists. Your little one is still cooking in your belly and you need lists already?”

Chelsea gave Megan a look of surprise. “It's like you don't even know me.”

Megan laughed. “Okay, fine. List away. But you're not stressed right now, are you? I mean about the wedding?”

“Shockingly, not at all. With all of you helping out, and the incredible help that Des's Hollywood crew has
provided, it's been amazingly stress-free. Thank you all so much. I couldn't have done this all so quickly without you.”

Megan smiled at her. “Hey, that's what friends are for. And I'm going to make you a killer cake.”

“And I'll give you the most beautiful flowers you could ever imagine,” Sam said.

“Which is why I'm not stressed at all.”

They ate wonderful food that Martha cooked, and Megan had made a sheet cake, along with a triple-decker chocolate and caramel cake that everyone pronounced delicious.

“How am I supposed to fit into my wedding dress if I keep eating stuff like this?” Chelsea asked as she slipped her fork into another slice. “I'm lucky that I haven't suffered any nausea with this pregnancy so far. All I want to do is eat.”

Megan laughed. “Enjoy the cake, Chelsea.”

“I intend to. But only one skinny slice. I mentioned my wedding dress fit perfectly, didn't I?”

“You did.”

“I have to make sure it stays that way.”

“I don't think one small slice of cake will make a difference.”

She slid a bite between her lips, then moaned. “You never know. This baby could decide to make my belly pop out at any moment.”

Megan laughed.

Chelsea had insisted on no gifts, since she and Bash already had their house and it was fully stocked, but all the girls got together and bought her a gift certificate for one of the spas in Tulsa so she could have a nice relaxing day before the wedding.

She teared up when she opened the envelope. “Oh, this is perfect. Thank you all so much. I'm really going to enjoy it. I'm going to have a massage and a facial and a mani-pedi and I'm going to knock Bash on his ass when he sees me.”

Megan laughed. “I think you already do that every day.”

“This is true. But I'll be even more alluring on my wedding day.”

“You know we're all just as excited about the wedding as you are,” Des said, cuddling baby Ben to her chest. “And I've got a babysitter, so Logan and I will get a night out.”

“Same here,” Emma said, looking over at the vibrating rocker where baby Michael lay sleeping. “It'll be a fun night.”

“Of course it will,” Chelsea said. “We're going to party that night. I won't be drinking, but we're all going to party.”

Megan went into the kitchen to refresh her glass of sangria. Sam followed.

“Will you and Brady be going to the wedding together?” Sam asked.

Megan turned and leaned against the counter. “I actually hadn't given it much thought.”

“In other words, you haven't talked to him about the wedding.”

She took a sip of her sangria, which was delicious. “No, I haven't.”

“So ask him. The two of you have been spending a lot of time together, right?”

“We have.” She smiled just thinking about the other night.

“I'm sure he'd love to come to the wedding.”

“I don't know about that. Big parties aren't really his thing.”

Sam shot her a look. “And you know this how?”

Megan shrugged. “Okay, I don't know that it's not his thing. I'm totally guessing.”

“Even if that's true,
you
are his thing. So ask him to be your date for the wedding.”

“You're a very pushy friend, you know.”

Sam laughed. “That's why you love me.”

“True. Fine, I'll ask him.”

It was Saturday, so she had no idea where Brady was. After the party she texted him but got no answer, so she took care of some housecleaning business that usually got left undone because she was typically busy doing other things—like baking.

It was an hour later by the time she realized Brady had texted her back and told her he was at the shop painting, but she should stop by.

She took a chance and decided to drive by the auto shop. When she saw the front was locked up tight, she drove around to the back of the shop. The garage door was open, so she figured Brady must still be working. She parked alongside the back wall and got out.

Brady was inside, painting a bike. Fascinated, she stayed quiet as she approached since she'd never watched him paint before. This wasn't like body paint. He was working a design on the tank of a beautiful cherry red bike. It looked like he was painting barbed wire onto the fender. He was leaning close, and the design was meticulous and oh-so-detailed.

She didn't want to disturb him and cause him to make a mistake.

“I know you're back there.”

Obviously he was more aware than she knew. “I'm sorry. I didn't want to cause you to flinch.”

“Roxie gave you away.”

She hadn't even noticed Roxie on her pile of blankets in the corner of the shop. She was standing and wagging her tail.

“Oh, I see her now. Hey, Roxie.”

He stopped, leaned back, and set down the paint he was using. He stood and stretched his back, then grabbed a rag to wipe his hands. “It's okay. I needed a break anyway.”

When he stepped away, she got a full look at the work he'd been doing. It was more than barbed wire. It had a purple demon encased within it, and the details were breathtaking.

“Wow,” she said. “You painted that?”

He looked down at it. “Yeah.”

“That's . . .” She dragged her gaze away from the bike's tank and onto Brady. “It's amazing.”

“Thanks.”

“How do you do it? I mean, I don't see a stencil. You freehand that?”

He nodded.

She shook her head. “It's incredible, Brady. I don't know how people aren't lined up down the block to have you paint their bikes.”

He laughed. “Well, thanks for that compliment. Maybe you should do my PR for me.”

“I'm serious. This is kind of mind-blowing.”

“It's okay. It's not done yet.”

She couldn't believe he was being so matter-of-fact about it. “It's more than okay. It's a work of art.”

He gave her a short laugh. “Hardly. It's just paint, Megan.”

“How can you downplay something like this? I think it's magnificent. The level of detail, even down to the eyes.” She leaned over to get a closer look, and suddenly Brady was behind her, his hand scooping up her hair.

“I don't think you want your hair in the wet paint.”

She straightened immediately. “Oh. I'm so sorry. The last thing I want is to mess up that awesome paint job.”

“I was more worried about you getting paint in your hair.”

He
would
be more concerned about her. “Well, thank you for that. I'm sure whoever is getting this bike is going to love it. I would, if I rode one.”

“You could, you know.”

“Ride a bike? I don't think so.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Why not?”

“I . . . I don't know. I guess it's never something I considered.”

“Anyone can ride a bike, Megan. All it takes is desire.”

“I suppose you're right. Maybe if I had a gorgeously
painted bike like that, I'd want to take it out and show it off.”

He laughed. “There you go. If you ever decide you want a bike, I'll paint it for you.”

She pulled her gaze away from the bike and onto him. “You will, huh? What if I want cakes and muffins on it?”

“If that's what you want, I'll do it.”

“Really? I can't see you painting cakes and muffins on a Harley.”

He shrugged. “You'd be surprised what I've painted on motorcycles before.”

He headed to the back of the garage to release Roxie's leash from where he had her tethered.

“She needs a break, too. Wanna walk with us?”

“Sure.”

He shut the garage door, and she followed him as he led the dog.

As they walked, she thought about what he'd said. “Okay, now I'm curious. What kinds of things have you painted on bikes?”

“One guy wanted a casket on the gas tank, flowers inside of it. Another asked me to do pink flowers all over the tank and fenders. One woman wanted all makeup thingies on hers—like lipstick and makeup cases. A guy wanted a picture of his mom. Oh yeah, and there was the one I did with worms.”

She grimaced. “Worms?”

He laughed. “Yeah. Bloody worms. Some cut up, some whole. It was pretty gruesome, but it actually turned out awesome. I have photos of all the bikes I've done. Some are on my phone, but others are in photo books.”

“I definitely want to see.”

After they walked Roxie to the park and back, he took her upstairs, where Roxie got a drink of water and settled in on her dog bed with her chicken.

“You want something to drink?” Brady asked.

“I'd take a glass of water.”

He filled two glasses with ice water and brought them
over to the sofa, where Megan had kicked off her shoes and pulled her legs under her.

Brady sat and handed Megan a glass.

“Thanks.” She took a sip, then set the glass on the coffee table.

“What did you do today?” he asked.

“I went to Chelsea's wedding shower out at the McCormack ranch.”

He nodded. “I heard about the shotgun wedding.”

She laughed and nudged him. “It is not a shotgun wedding.”