Combust (The Wellingtons #1) (39 page)

Apparently wedding planning isn’t any more exciting for her than it would be for Knox, and the thought helps me relax, knowing that she’s not getting wedding fever. Because even though I love her and I can see myself with her for the rest of my life, wedding bells aren’t in my future any time soon. And thankfully, it seems like she’s on the same page.

 

 

 

AFTER HAVING looked through hundreds of photos of wedding favor ideas, I was more than happy when Cohen came to say it was time to head home. Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s fantastic that Charlie and Knox are getting married, but you can only see so many different personalized candies, coasters, and candles before your eyes start to cross. It was nice to be included though, and every time we go to Belle Meade for brunch, I feel more accepted and comfortable with his family. I kind of feel guilty for not having taken him home to Bethel yet, but there’s just never been a good time between both of our classes. At least that’s what I tell myself. Mom knows I’m dating someone, but she’s used to my being tight-lipped about my dating life. I’ve never been the girl to bring a guy home, and I’m not sure I’m ready to unleash Mayor Kane on my relationship, especially since Dad’s ideas for my future don’t exactly jive with mine.

Now that Cohen and I have laid our feelings out on the table, I’ve allowed myself to think beyond graduation, and I won’t lie and say that the wedding planning didn’t get my brain working just a little bit. Not that I’m expecting Cohen to propose marriage or anything. Hell no. We both have school and careers to establish, so any white gowns or wedding bells are at least a few years off. That being said, I love the idea of Charlie being my sister-in-law, and I know I could do a hell of a lot worse than Amelia when it comes to mothers-in-law. Not to mention, the rest of the Wellington men would make for some pretty good eye candy in family photos.

“Hey, did Mom talk to you about the engagement party?”

Glancing over, I see that Cohen’s looking at me. “The beginning of June, right? Charlie’s trying to talk Amelia into dropping the jazz band and hiring Chris’s band for the night. She said something about wanting to get Knox back on stage.”

When Charlie made that comment, I became curious about what she meant. Knox Wellington is not the type of guy I can imagine singing on stage in public. Charlie filled me in on what had happened, and it sounded so romantic. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for Knox to do that, but even I can see how much he loves her. It’s written all over his face, and sometimes when I catch him staring at her, I wonder if Cohen looks at me that way, too.

Cohen chuckles and just shakes his head. “I’m not holding my breath on that one, but if anyone can get Knox to do something, it’s Charlie. It’s supposed to go late into the night, so we can make a weekend of it if you want and stay at the house so we don’t have to worry about driving back that night. That is, if you think you can go one night without jumping my bones. You’re not exactly the quiet type. The rest of the family would know exactly what we’re doing.”

Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Babe, you’re forgetting yourself. I’ve been in your old room. It still looks like a seventeen-year-old science nerd lives there. I think I can hold off for one night.”

He gives me a fake pout, and I lean over to place a kiss on his cheek before my lips move up to hover over his ear.

“Okay, a hot science nerd. I’m sure it’ll be hard to resist, but I’ll just stare at your poster of the periodic table on the wall to calm my raging hormones.”

“Or I could just gag you,” he deadpans.

Instead of being offended, my panties dampen at the thought. “Now there’s a possibility. Just make sure you’re wearing a tie that night, and we’ll see what happens. Too bad it’s two months away,” I whisper as I bring my finger up to trace along the hard ridges of his ab muscles.

He inhales sharply as my hand wanders down to his belt buckle. His fingers grip the steering wheel, but he doesn’t look at me. Instead, he stares straight ahead, dutifully keeping his eyes on the road. My hand palms his now rock-hard erection, and he shifts underneath me.

With my lips still near his ear, I tease him just a little bit more. “We might have to practice. You know, just to make sure you can keep me quiet.”

With that, I pull away and lean back against the door, watching him. He swallows hard and removes one hand from the steering wheel to adjust himself, an act that causes me to laugh.

When he looks over at me, I can see desire flashing in his eyes, and he doesn’t look amused. “You’re going to pay for that one, Ruby,” he warns, and I cock a brow up at him. “Oh, we’ll practice all right. But first, I’ll pay you back for this one until you’re screaming my name so loud the whole apartment complex will hear you.”

“Seems like you’re going to have your work cut out for you,” I challenge.

His gaze meets mine, and I’m about two seconds away from telling him to pull over so we can have a quickie in the backseat.

“Baby, you have no idea.”

“Well, then I guess it’s a good thing we have nothing to do but each other this week.”

At that, he laughs, readjusts his jeans, and then peers back out the windshield. Knowing it’ll be a while before we get home, I decide to let him off the hook and stop this line of conversation. Sure, I could take care of him with road head, but that concept’s always been a little…off to me. Not that there’s anything wrong with it. I’m just not sure I trust myself not to accidently bite down if we hit a pothole or something, and I’d prefer Cohen’s penis to remain intact. It has been pretty damn good to me.

I reach into my purse to pull out my phone and connect it to Cohen’s stereo system. Ever since our first drive to Belle Meade, we’ve started taking turns making playlists for the road trip. After all, three hours is a pretty damn long time to flip through stations on the radio. Spotify has become just another one of our communication tools, and I love it.

We don’t always agree on songs though. No matter how many times he tries to tell me that Rick Astley was a genius before his time, I will never agree. I tell myself that he’s just trying to Rick Roll me, but I’m beginning to believe he actually means it. All I know is that if I hear him singing Never Gonna Give You Up in the shower one more time, I’m dousing him with cold water. Then again, he’s threatened to take away the spatula from me multiple times when I’m belting out Journey’s When You Love a Woman, but I think he’s just jealous of my undying affection for Steve Perry.

I feel a little hesitant as my thumb hovers over the play button. It was Cohen’s playlist turn on the way to Belle Meade, and ever the romantic, it began, naturally, with I Knew I Loved You by Savage Garden. By the time we got to his parents’ house, I was feeling all sorts of loved up. Three hours’ worth of loves songs will do that to a girl newly in love, and dammit if I didn’t have to fix my mascara. Fortunately, as we were pulling into the neighborhood, Relient K’s Must Have Done Something Right came on, causing me to laugh. It was adorable and just what I needed to lighten the mood. Now that it’s time for my playlist, I feel a little silly, but what the hell?

Shuffle does me no favors as soon as the R&B crooning of Avant blasts over the speakers. So much for changing the subject. As he starts singing about making good love all night, Cohen looks over at me and just shakes his head, an amused smile on his face. Quickly hitting next, I nearly groan when LMFAO’s All Night Long comes on, but it’s a bit more upbeat and less sexual, so I let it play.

“I’m beginning to sense a theme here, Ruby,” Cohen says, a grin widening on his face.

“So I might not be the most romantic girl in the world.” I wince, and his grin just deepens. “But you finally rocked my world and I figured it was time to put Missy and One Minute Man to rest, don’t you think?”

His shoulders rumble as laughter escapes him. He takes hold of my hand and brings up it to his lips for a kiss. “Ruby, that’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me. And I love you for it.”

It’s normal for your boyfriend to make you swoon, right? Because this girl is swooning hardcore. “You know I love you, too.”

He squeezes my hand, and when he turns to look at me, his expression causes my heart to tighten. His eyes soften and his smile turns playful. “I know, baby. And you better never stop.”

We settle into comfortable silence as the playlist continues, but his comment keeps replaying over and over in my mind. Stop? That’s crazy talk. This train’s speeding down the tracks, full speed ahead, and this conductor never plans on using the brakes.

 

 

AFTER THREE hours of listening to Andi’s sex playlist, I’m more than ready to throw her into bed, have my way with her, and continue to show her that One Minute Man is definitely in retirement. As we get back into Knoxville, Andi requests that we stop by her place so she can pack some stuff for the week. She also mentions needing to christen her bed, and when I mention the couch, she looks horrified and says that all communal furniture is off-limits. I guess I don’t blame her, and then I shudder at the thought that Cy and/or Teddy have done anything on it.

As we walk up to her door, I can’t keep my hands to myself. She digs through her purse for her keys, and I’m not helpful as I place my hands on her waist and nuzzle her neck. Her scent is intoxicating, and the man-girl in me wants to swipe one of her bottles of body spray to keep at my place for when she’s not around—which, let’s be honest, isn’t often.

Just as she unlocks the door, I spin her around and press her back against it. Pushing into her, I see her eyes widen when she feels my erection resting up against her. Her eyelids lower, and a small, “Oh,” escapes her lips. It’s an instant turn-on, and before she can say a word, my lips crash down on hers to ravage her mouth. My hand travels down to caress her in between her legs, wishing like hell that her jeans weren’t acting like a barrier for my fingers.

I reach behind her and twist the knob, my lips still on hers. As the door opens, Andi jumps up and wraps her legs around my waist, my hands sliding under her ass so I can hold her upright. I kick the door closed, and without taking her mouth off mine, she begins to unbutton my shirt. Her fingers then come down to unbuckle my belt, her small hand slipping into my jeans when she undoes the fly.

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