“Wow. Thank you, honey. I didn’t know you loved me
that
much,” Will said snidely, snuggling against her breasts.
“You don’t even know the half of it. I was too lazy to price compare and run all over town looking, so finally I just bought the whole works at the coffee shop,” Jessica told him. “I went there after school today.”
He winced, but was kind of thrilled to know he’d have an awesome setup, and that she loved him enough to buy the best for him.
“Bet that wasn’t cheap,” Will said, laughing, “but I’m extremely grateful. I just can’t do tea.”
Jessica rolled on top of him. “I don’t expect us to always like the same things. And I don’t want gratitude, Mr. Larson. I want you to work off the cost in trade.”
Will snorted beneath her. “Got some specific work in mind.”
“Yes,” she said fiercely, “but I’m too tired to have it done tonight.”
Will put his finger in his mouth, wet it, and then used it to write across Jessica’s naked breasts while she laughed. “It’s an invisible IOU for the sexual favor of your choice,” he told her, grinning.
“
Just one?
Oh no, that was an expensive damn coffee pot. And those stupid coffee beans were fourteen dollars a pound. I figure they’re good for twenty favors at least,” she said.
“
Twenty?
Are you crazy? That’s sexual extortion. The coffee pot isn’t made of gold, is it?” Will asked.
She bent to kiss his smiling mouth. “No. It’s stainless steel. How about ten?”
Will pretended to contemplate the revised number. “Okay. Fine. Ten. Make a list so I can get mentally prepared for the kinky stuff. I’ll yell at you for free. Consider it a bonus for buying the grinder.”
Jessica burst into uncontrolled laughter remembering how much hearing him yell at Michael and Shane had turned her on.
Loving her laughter, Will rolled them until he balancing himself on her thighs. He had a deep appreciation for how physical she was with him.
“You’re so easy,” he teased.
“Yeah, you knew that when you met me. So?” she asked.
“No—
not that way
. I mean you suck at negotiating,” he told her.
“You haven’t been complaining about that up until now either,” Jessica said, sarcastically.
Will’s entire weight dropped between her legs and onto her hips as laughter overcame him. “Woman, I’d have given you fifty sexual favors of your choice for the damn coffee pot.”
“You’ll give them to me anyway,” Jessica told him, playing with his earring. “I just felt like extorting some.”
“If I do all the work, can I have the sexual favor of my choice tonight,” he asked, bending his mouth to suck at her neck. “You won’t have to do a thing but enjoy it.”
“Sure. What do you want?” Jessica said, her eyes closed as she enjoyed Will’s lips trailing over her.
“Well that’s the irony. I already have what I want,” Will said softly, lowering his mouth to Jessica’s and kissing her until she moaned. “Now all I have to do is talk you into marrying me so I can make it legal.”
Jessica’s husky laugh rang out in the room. “Great. I’ll call in sick tomorrow. Let’s drive to Tennessee. We’ll do it quick and dirty.”
“Oh hell no—I want witnesses, lots of them,” Will told her. “I don’t need a church, but I want the whole package. If you ask Susan to stand with you, I’ll ask Steve Lipton to be my best man. He’ll say he is, and I’ll say he isn’t. We’ll trade insults, but it’s really the right thing to do since he gave me great advice about you—not that I followed it.”
By the time Will wound down, Jessica was laughing so hard she was shaking both of them. “Will—I used to date Steve. Don’t you think people might wonder why he’s acting as your best man?”
“Honey—I’m not sure I can find a guy you haven’t dated unless I ask one of my sons, or worse, my ex-wife’s husband,” Will teased, grabbing her wrists when she would have pushed him off her. “Hell, Steve at least told me the truth and tried to help. Other men would just try to date you. I prefer one that is already done and moved on.”
Jessica twisted in his grasp, but Will was bigger, stronger, and aroused enough to not be thwarted by her efforts.
“Fine,” she said smartly. “I’m going to ask Ellen to be my maid of honor. If the tongues in this town are going to wag about me—by God, let’s give them something good.”
“I’ll tell you what’s good,” Will said, pushing into the wet lovely heat of her as she hissed at him. “Teasing you into becoming a hell cat in bed is good. You better lie still before I start liking this too much. I might provoke you just to get this reaction.”
Jessica screeched in fury as she tried to escape his hold, startling Will into stopping his movements, but instead of pulling completely out of her, he just laughed and drove home harder. After a few moments, he had to stop or it was going to be all over before it began.
“I’ll let go of your wrists as soon as you tell me you know I’m teasing,” Will said on a laugh while he rested inside her and drove them both crazy. “I don’t care about the other men. I’m glad you dated. And I like Steve. I seriously was thinking about asking him.”
“When you let go, I’m going to rip out your guts and feed them to you,” Jessica said dramatically.
“Oh—well in that case,” Will let go of her wrists and rolled them over until she was sitting astride him, still impaled. “Punish me. Make me pay.”
“Bastard,” Jessica said, rocking on him because he had her churned up for sex now.
“Make that
lucky bastard
,” he told her, closing his eyes at every roll of her hips against his. “I think I’ll have that embroidered on towels. You’re the hottest woman on earth, and I’m the one under you.”
“I don’t give a damn who you ask to stand with you,” Jessica said, freezing as her climax rolled over her. “Damn—too soon. I was trying to go with you.”
Snickering, Will rolled Jessica back over until she was under him again. “Well, let’s finish together. I bet you have a few orgasmic muscle contractions left.”
“You’ve been reading books again, haven’t you?” Jessica demanded. “Oh God—you’re right. Harder—Will—
please
.”
Will’s husky, proud laughter rumbled through her as she felt him give in to his own climax. Afterward, he gathered her up in his arms and kissed her face until she laughed. She was never going to figure him out, but maybe that was part of his appeal to her.
“I’ll marry you anywhere you say. I just want to be with you for the rest of my life,” Will said seriously. “I love you, Jessica. I’m sorry I teased you so much.”
“No you’re not,” Jessica told him. “You’re just being nice and hoping I don’t get even.”
“No,” Will denied, laughing more. “I’m just hoping you seriously don’t ask my ex-wife to be your maid of honor.”
“Don’t be silly,” Jessica said quietly, stroking his back. “Susan is going to be my maid of honor. I’m just going to ask Ellen to arrange the wedding. She did such a good job on Michael’s.”
Will groaned and laughed. “I said I was sorry for teasing you.”
“Not half as sorry as you’re going to be when you read the notice in the paper that former Mrs. Larson arranged the ceremony,” she said, laughing. “You’ll not be able to show your face anywhere without shame. That will teach you.”
“Teach me? Did you have a timeline in mind for the lesson?” Will asked, wondering if next weekend was too soon.
“How about a month? That should give people enough time to get used to it and you enough time to prepare. I’ll call Ellen tomorrow,” Jessica said. “I want to do the reception at the café. Melanie and Brent can cater. They need the business.”
“You’re serious as hell about letting Ellen arrange everything else though, aren’t you?” Will asked.
“Ellen is my new best friend. Blame Shane,” Jessica said, laughing. “She and I are going to become infamous when his book is published.”
“Yeah, that’s what you need—more infamy,” Will said dryly.
“I love you, William. You still owe me nine sexual favors,” Jessica said, curling into a ball and pulling his arm around her. The man made her feel secure without even trying.
Will smiled against Jessica’s back. “I’ll give you the other forty favors if you arrange the wedding yourself.”
“No way—I’m not doing all that work when Ellen so obviously enjoys it. She should be doing it for a living,” Jessica said sharply, laughing loudly as she felt Will swearing against her back.
***
“We need to make a rule about no phone calls before nine in the morning,” Michael said, grumpy that he had been interrupted from kissing the warm and willing woman in his bed. He tossed his cell phone on the nightstand, burrowing back into his wife, who was still completely naked under the covers.
“That was just Dad,” he said.
“Is anything wrong?” Carrie asked.
“No. No—nothing is wrong. They set a date for the wedding. It’s going to be in a month,” Michael said, running his hands over her breasts, really liking the way Carrie’s nipples beaded against his palms.
“That’s great,” Carrie said, sighing at the bliss Michael brought her. “Brooke will be happy.”
“I’m happy,” Michael said, moving his face to her throat as his hair slid down between them.
Carrie pulled his hair across the front of her, feeling her skin through the silky strands. “I’m happy too.”
“You’re not talking about Dad’s wedding—are you?” Michael asked, watching her play with his hair.
Her turquoise gaze met his. “I’m the most happily married woman I know,” she said softly. “You’re turning out to be a great husband, Michael Larson.”
Michael thought his heart would beat its way out of his body trying to handle all the joy he felt. “God, I hope Dad is as contented with Jessica as I am with you,” he said, laying his head next to Carrie’s on the pillow.
This was the “more than sex” moment he’d known, or at least hoped, they would get to eventually. This was the moment of being on the same page about life.
Carrie smiled. “I hope Shane and Reesa work things out too. He’s so gone on her,” she said.
“You’re turning into such a romantic. Are you going to fix Brooke up next?” Michael asked, touching the laugh lines creasing her eyes as she thought about it. He was going to make it his personal mission to deepen them more with every passing year.
“There’s an older guy already interested in Brooke,” Carrie said. “You’d like him. He looks a lot like you—long hair and all.”
“What’s his name?” Michael asked, laughing.
“Drake Barrymore,” Carrie told him. “He’s the current chair of the art department at UK.”
Michael frowned and pulled away. “I know him,” he said, scanning his memory banks and pulling the files forward for perusing.
“Is there something wrong with him?” Carrie asked.
“No. No—Barrymore’s a great painter,” Michael said carefully. “You should look up his work. He has a tragic story behind his art, reminds me a little of Jessica. He lost his wife to cancer. He paints nudes, but his original work was all her—hundreds of paintings of her. Then he painted her with cancer and it was not received as well, but those portraits are wrenching. I went to a showing of his work. He’s very talented.”
Carrie nodded. “I think I’m going to show his work. I heard him tell Brooke he wanted to paint her.”
“Show his work? Like in
your gallery
?” Michael asked, grinning. “Does that mean you’ve made a decision?”
“Michael—it’s going to take most of the money you mortgaged against the house just to get into the place. What if this doesn’t work? I’m scared of that, and then the budget for renovations is going to be so small that I won’t even be able to buy a real business sign to hang out front,” Carrie said, listening to Michael laugh beside her. “What’s so funny?”
“You,” Michael said, rising up on his elbow. “You’re going to be great. The gallery is going to be great. And you’re going to make enough money the first six months to buy your sign without even impacting everything else.”
“I’m glad one of us has such faith in me,” Carrie said. “I feel excited about it, but I feel scared too.”
Michael put his hand over her stomach, letting himself dream for a moment of when a child of his would rest there again.
“Anything you create with that fire burning so bright inside you is going to be strong and successful,” he said with no doubt at all. “This is your creativity, Carrie Larson. This is your art. Be a business owner. Operate the best gallery in Kentucky. You have a whole family behind you in this effort. You are not alone.”
Carrie’s eyes got teary at the thought. She felt Michael just laugh and hug her.
“You don’t have to cry over a little moral support,” he teased.
Carrie sniffed. “You have no idea what it’s like to finally have someone in my life who believes in me.”
“Just keep in mind my work needs to get the most attention. We have to pay the mortgage off on the house again,” Michael teased. “No pressure—just make us rich when you can.”
“We’re a family of artists, Michael,” Carrie said, laughing and wiping the last of her tears away. “I doubt we will ever see rich.”