Must Be Doin' Somethin' Right [The Chisholms of Texas 3] (Siren Publishing Classic) (20 page)

“I forgot the condom, baby.”

It wasn’t fair for him to take the blame for something they had both forgotten. She hadn’t even thought about contraception once he’d started fondling her. She was so used to being on the Pill that trying to remember to use a condom was proving more difficult than she had thought it would be. This was the second time they had both forgotten. The same thing had happened last night in the shower when they had made love for a second time. Still, there was nothing to do about it now. They’d have to do a better job remembering in the future.

* * * *

Two weeks before Christmas, the Chisholms welcomed a new little Chisholm into the world. Taylor had waited around so long at home before telling Levi she was in labor that they barely made it to the hospital in time for the delivery. It was more than a week before her due date, and she’d thought she was just having a little more back pain than normal. She didn’t realize she’d been in labor all day. When Levi came in from work and she told him what had been going on, he had simply picked her up, put her in the truck, and driven like a bat out of hell to the hospital.

Taylor had called Cassie and told her what was going on and Cassie had called everyone else. By the time anybody from the family had gotten to the hospital, Taylor had already given birth to a seven-and-a-half-pound baby boy, and the nurses were settling the family into the room for the night. After everyone had seen the black-haired little cherub and his parents, they had left the family alone to bond. The baby’s name was Hunter Levi Chisholm. Levi had wanted the baby to have his own identity so he had nixed the idea of giving the baby his full name, but Taylor was insistent that the baby be named after him in some way.

Abby and Dillon spent Christmas Eve alone. Although they would join his family tomorrow for Christmas dinner, Dillon wanted to celebrate Abby’s birthday, which was on Christmas Day, with just the two of them. He was making her dinner and, when she got home, he told her to go change into something comfortable. Taking him at his word, she changed into a pair of bright-pink yoga pants and a comfortable white T-shirt. He hadn’t said “sexy,” he’d said “comfortable.”

Abby thoroughly enjoyed the lovely dinner Dillon prepared for her. While she was still doing her clinical internship, Abby discovered that Cassie Chisholm made sure each of her children knew their way around the kitchen. As a result, they were all good cooks. Dillon, she later found out, had been an excellent pupil—maybe this was part of the extra-close relationship he and his mom had—and was a wonderful and innovative chef in the kitchen. In fact, he had almost considered being trained as a chef rather than becoming a veterinarian. In the end, his love for animals won out and he did his chef thing on the side. Abby was more than willing to reap the benefits of that decision.

Although Abby knew how to cook, her father had been a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy, so she had never gotten very adventurous with her cooking. She enjoyed taking instruction from Dillon in this area and was becoming more bold in the kitchen every time she cooked. Not all of her offerings were completely edible, but Dillon never criticized her. He told her that the failed attempts were just as important as her successes. Her father would have yelled at her for ruining perfectly good food and then called for a pizza. Sometimes she wondered how she could have compared Dillon to her father. Then Dillon did something totally over the top and Abby remembered why she made the comparison. Thankfully, Dillon was making fewer and fewer of those mistakes lately.

Once dinner, with music and candlelight no less, was over, Dillon went into the kitchen to pour them another glass of wine and dish up dessert. He had bought a turtle cheesecake from Mancini’s Bakery. This thing had like a trillion calories. You had to order them days in advance. Mancini’s only made them to order.

As she sat at the table enjoying the flickering candlelight and the mix CD Dillon put on the stereo, he set down her wineglass in front of her then went back into the kitchen to get the dessert plates. After he set his dessert at his place, he set hers in front of her and lowered himself to one knee, taking her hand in his. Putting one hand in his pants pocket, he pulled something out and held it up to her. She was afraid to look.

“Abby. Baby. I’ve loved you for more than two years. I told you nearly five months ago that I wanted you to be my wife. Will you marry me and make me the happiest man on the face of the earth?” Dillon spoke quietly but his voice was strong.

He was totally serious about this, and he waited patiently for her response.

Abby wanted more than anything to say yes. She loved Dillon Chisholm with her whole heart. She wasn’t worried about his dominant nature anymore. He had proven to her that he wasn’t like her father and that they could work things out without either resorting to either emotional or physical abuse. She knew he loved her. He had proven that to her over and over again by staying and fighting things out with her as equals instead of blowing off her feelings or taking over when they didn’t agree with each other. Sometimes, before things got too tense between them, Abby would leave for a while so that they could both gain a little perspective. She knew Dillon didn’t like it when she took off like that but he let her go, understanding her need for a little space. They were usually able to compromise at these times so that they both ended up satisfied with the outcome. The makeup sex was off the charts.

There was just one little thing keeping her from saying yes and throwing herself in his arms. The stalker. With things so unsure, she was loathe to make him even more of a target than he was already. She had done some research up on stalkers and found out that, when the person being stalked was involved romantically with someone else, the other person often became another fixation for the stalker and, in those cases in which there was violence, was often hurt as much if not more than the individual being stalked. Dillon was already in danger from the stalker, though he brushed off any danger the stalker might pose to him when she brought it up. Would the stalker make another move if they got engaged or married?

Standing up and pulling her into his embrace, he held the ring up for her to see. It was a deep-blue stone with purple overtones. It was her favorite gemstone and also her birthstone. It had to be at least three carats of round tanzanite surrounded by white diamonds down either side of the ring. It was absolutely gorgeous and totally impractical, as she wouldn’t be able to wear it most of the time she was working. God, she loved this man!

“I can see your gears grinding from here, baby. Don’t worry about the pervert. Look at me and tell me you don’t want to marry me. That’s the only way I’ll let you get away from me tonight without putting this ring on your finger.” When he saw she was about to argue, he told her, “We’re already living together in a committed relationship. I don’t think becoming engaged, or even getting married, will make this guy do anything he wasn’t already planning on doing anyway. Don’t let him control us this way. Marry me.”

Knowing it was what she wanted, and needing to thumb her nose at the man who was affecting so many areas of her life, her eyes filled with tears and she nodded in response to his question. “Yes, Dillon. I’ll marry you. But this means you have to be extra careful now, too. My stalker may decide attacking you will get to me, and he’d be right. I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you because of me.”

“I promise to be extra careful. Now give me a kiss, birthday girl, to tide me over while we eat our cheesecake. I have a candle for you to blow out.” She lifted her arms around his neck as she sifted through the thick, black hair at the back of his neck then pulled his mouth down for a deep, rich kiss. His tongue gently explored her mouth as he licked and sucked at her lips. Breaking away from her kiss, he skimmed his mouth down her cheek and down to the hollow beneath her ear, breathing her scent in deeply. “God, I love you, Abby. When do you want to get married?”

“Let’s eat our cheesecake and get used to being engaged before we set a wedding date, all right? Besides, I’d like to be in the new house and have all that taken care of before I have to plan a wedding.”

“You’re right. Let’s enjoy where we’re at right now.” He let her go and got the birthday candle from the kitchen, placed it in the piece of cheesecake, and lit it for her to blow out. After she finally blew it out—it was one of those that kept relighting on its own—they sat back down at the candlelit table to eat their cheesecake and enjoy their wine. She admired her ring in the candlelight.

Abby woke up first the next morning and lay in her fiancé’s arms remembering the night before—both their engagement and Dillon’s seemingly insatiable need for her. Looking at the clock, she realized they had just enough time to shower and dress before they needed to head over to the big house to join in the Chisholm Christmas celebration. Dillon was sleeping so peacefully that she carefully left the bed and decided to shower first and let him sleep a little longer.

Once in the bathroom, she put her hair up in a ponytail to keep it dry while she showered. There wouldn’t be time to dry it properly before they needed to get going. Turning on the water, she adjusted it the way she wanted and stepped into the shower stall. She was just reaching for her shower gel when she heard the shower door open and felt a burst of cool air on her naked skin. She bit back a smile. This was getting to be a habit. Not that she was complaining, but Dillon’s presence in the shower didn’t bode well for them getting to the big house on time. Closing her eyes when she heard the shower door close behind him, she started a little when he pressed up close behind her and began to massage her breasts with his big, rough hands.

“You’re going to make us late, Dillon. We don’t have time to fool around.” Molten liquid pooled in her groin even as she said the words.

“I’ll make it quick,” he responded in his gravelly morning voice.

He continued to palm her breasts, tweaking her nipples between his fingers. While one hand continued to play with her breasts, the other traveled down her body and delved between her hidden folds, stoking her desire.

“I love how fast I can get you hot, baby. You’re already dripping with your sweet cream.”

“Shit, Dillon. All you have to do is look at me and I cream myself.” She bit back a groan of frustration when he moved his hands away from her body. She could feel his hard cock against her ass cheeks.

“Must be doin’ somethin’ right, huh? Turn around, Abby. Put your back against the wall.” As he hooked his hand under one of her knees and brought it up around his hip, her hands clutched his shoulders to keep her balance. With his other hand, he guided his cock to her weeping gate. She reveled at the slight sting she always felt when his cock first breached her opening. As he slid deep, Abby stifled a moan of pleasure. Hips pistoning, he began to thrust his cock into her pussy, pulling it back until only the tip remained then repeating the process. Thrust. Pull. Thrust. Pull.

Her fingers tightened on his shoulders as she felt the edge of her orgasm approaching. He reached between their bodies and flicked his fingers against her swollen clit. Pleasure coiled tightly within her. One more flick and the coil sprang open, the pleasure pouring throughout her body, making her come so hard she had to make a conscious effort to unclench her teeth. Her inner muscles tightening around his thick cock caused him to tumble into his own orgasm as his cock emptied its load deep in her heat. Shouting her name in pleasure, he ground his body against hers until his cock stopped twitching. With a groan, he leaned away from her, letting her leg down, as his spent cock slipped out of her pussy. She wrapped her arms around his waist as he gathered her in his arms and they leaned against the shower wall, catching their breath.

“Fuck! I forgot the damn condom again.” Abby started as she realized she hadn’t even thought about getting her birth-control pill prescription filled since she’d stopped taking the antibiotic.

“It’s not your fault, Dillon. I should have remembered, too. We’ll just have to hope nothing happens and be better prepared for the next time. Maybe we should keep some condoms here in the shower since that seems to be the place we forget to use them. I suppose I should wait to go back on the Pill until after we’re sure I’m not pregnant. We’re going to have to get better at remembering the condoms.” She leaned into him to give him a quick kiss on his chin then reached down to shut off the water as it was turning cold.

They both stepped out of the shower and each grabbed a towel to dry themselves off with. Abby watched Dillon closely as he seemed distracted since they realized they had forgotten to use protection again. Was he that worried about her getting pregnant? Sure, the timing would sort of suck. Although they were engaged, they hadn’t even thought about setting a date for the wedding.

“What’s wrong, Dillon? You’re being very quiet.”

“Nothing, baby. Everything is fine.”

Giving him “the look” that told him she thought that was a bullshit answer, he grimaced. “Okay. Okay. Don’t hit me or anything. I was just wondering if it would really be a bad thing if you got pregnant. I mean, we
are
engaged, and we’ve already talked about having kids. Would it really be so bad?” He looked so earnest as he stood there with only a towel wrapped around his lean hips that she had to bite back a smile.

“I’m not saying it would be a bad thing. It’s just the timing that would be off. I’d like to be married
before
I get pregnant and have any babies.”

“So let’s get married. We can be in Vegas by tomorrow.”

“Like your mom is going to let us elope in Vegas. From what she told me, she already has the guest list ready, and I don’t think the list is a small one. Remember, I was here for Ryan and Samantha’s wedding.”

“So, you’d like a big wedding, too?”

“God, no. Shit! That’s the last thing I want, but I don’t want your mom to be mad at me, either. She’d probably be upset with us if we eloped.” She watched his expressions as they flitted across his face. She could tell that, like her, Dillon would be perfectly happy to elope in Las Vegas even if it would be just the two of them with strangers as witnesses.