Countdown #2
Most days, she and Whiskey roamed the pasture together, but the veterinarian was worried my stallion might get aggressive when his girl went into labor.
No one knew how he’d react to seeing her in distress, so he instructed us to prepare a birthing stall for her as a safety precaution.
I still didn’t think it was necessary. Whiskey and Smoke were soul mates, like me and Noah.
He’d die before he ever did something to hurt her.
“Do you think he’ll give us a fit?”
“Nah. He’ll be fine,” I snickered. “I bought extra sugar cubes.”
“Of course you did. You’ll spoil them rotten.”
“They’re my babies. Would you expect anything less?”
“Speaking of babies…”
I turned in his arms, patting his muscled chest. “Nice segue, Cowboy. Are you getting baby fever?”
Please say yes. Please say yes.
“I’ve had it for a while. We need to catch up with Keaton and Henley, Little Lamb.”
“I’m an FBI agent, not an incubator. So unless you’ve sprouted a secret vagina, there is no we, Noah. I’ll be the one with the stretch marks and morning sickness. Lower your expectations a bit.”
“Okay, not four then. How many do you want then?”
“Two. A boy and a girl.”
“There’s no guarantee we’ll get one of each, but it’ll be a helluva lot of fun trying.” His grin widened.
“Great. Then it’s settled. Operation Knock Lanie Up can commence once my parents go back to Colorado.”
Noah frowned. “What do you mean go back? Are they here?”
“They called this morning. They’re six hours away.”
“I hope you reminded them West Virginia has laws against public nudity.”
I threw my head back and laughed. Poor Noah was still traumatized from his first encounter with my parents. I’d warned him my childhood was different than most, but I don’t think anything could have prepared him for Percy and Iris Biggs in all their glory.
“They packed an entire suitcase full of clothes.”
“I’m impressed they have that many.”
I rolled my eyes. “Smart-ass.”
“That’s one, Little Lamb.”
“Can we skip over two and three?”
Noah’s smile turned feral as he snagged my hand and pulled me into the barn.
“Is there something you want?”
“You know there is,” I panted.
“Then be my good girl and strip.”
Two days before “I do”
Waverly
“You work too hard.”
I stood in the doorway of Finn’s office.
He looked sexy as hell, sporting a pair of brand new wire-rimmed glasses.
They were a recent development thanks to the amount of time he spent staring at a computer screen.
You wouldn’t see me complaining. He looked like the hotter Irish version of Jude Law from The Holiday.
“Says the pot to the kettle,” he chuckled. “How many days last week were you home before seven, hmm?”
“Touché. We both need to cut back our hours.”
“Agreed. Although you do realize I’m a billionaire.”
“I’m aware. But if you try to tell me again that I don’t have to work, we’re gonna have issues, Mr. O’ Lachlan.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Special Agent Mitchell.” He closed the lid to his laptop. “You know, we haven’t christened my office yet.”
“And tonight will not be the night. Did you forget we have plans?”
“Feckin’ hell. Do we have to?”
“Jesus, don’t be such a baby. You’d think you were getting your teeth pulled rather than having dinner with Shannon and her new boyfriend.”
Shannon moved to Huntington about eighteen months after she first met Sloane and Finn. The siblings became so close, she couldn’t stand living halfway across the country from them. She fit right into our group of misfits perfectly.
“I already know I’m not going to like the arsehole, so why don’t we just save ourselves the trouble?”
“Finnian O’ Lachlan, get your fine ass moving before we’re late.”
“So damn bossy.” He stood, grabbing his suit jacket off the back of his chair.
“You love it.” I wound my arm through his.
“I love you.”
An hour later, I was cursing myself for not listening to Finn.
We should’ve gone home. Hell, a trip to the dentist would’ve been a more pleasant experience than dinner with Derek.
I had no idea where Shannon had met the guy, but I was two seconds away from arresting him for being a dick.
Not only did he talk down to the waitstaff, he hadn’t stopped staring at Shannon’s chest since she sat down.
“I’m going to kill him,” Finn muttered under his breath.
“I’ll help you hide the body.”
Derek tapped his fingers annoyingly on the table. “You know it’s not polite to whisper.”
“Oh, Derek.” I took a sip of my wine. “It would be less polite of us to share what we were talking about. Trust me, you’re better off not knowing.”
Poor Shannon. When I’d talked to her earlier this week, she sounded like she was really into this guy. Watching her now though, she looked ready to crawl under the table. I’d never let that happen. Neither would Finn.
The real kicker was when Derek sent his steak back three times because he said it wasn’t cooked properly. He’d asked for medium rare and got medium rare each time. For him, it was about exerting power. Problem was, I was done with his bullshit.
“Excuse me.” Finn said to the waiter as he walked toward the kitchen with Derek’s perfectly cooked steak. “Don’t bother remaking that. We’re leaving.”
“Yes. Exactly,” Derek cut in. “We’re going to go to a restaurant where the chef knows how to cook a perfect steak.”
Oh, no he fucking didn’t. I almost felt sorry for the idiot. He was trying to play a game of poker with a deck of UNO cards.
“I’m sorry. You misunderstand, Derek. We—meaning Shannon, Finn, and myself—are leaving. You aren’t invited.”
“You can’t be serious?” He turned to Shannon. “You’re just going to let them treat me like this?”
“Absolutely.” She stood up, dropping her cloth napkin on the table. “Oh, and I blocked your number when you wouldn’t stop staring at my tits. Don’t bother calling or texting.”
Damn, I wanted to give her a high five. That was a brilliant comeback. She’d come a long way from the shy girl she used to be. Now we just needed to work on her taste in men.
“You two go on without me,” Shannon said once we got outside. “I’ve lost my appetite.”
“Text when you get home.” Finn pulled her into a hug, then I did the same.
“Home or another restaurant?” He took my hand, leading me to his car.
“Home. We’ve got a lot to do before the wedding. I can’t believe it’s only two days away.”
“Believe it, baby. It’s been a long time coming.”
“It’s going to be beautiful.”
“The wedding of the century.”
One day until “I do”
Sloane
“I can’t believe she said no to our little bachelorette party idea.”
“She said she didn’t want one. You know how stubborn she is, Sloane.”
I was on the phone with Henley, while simultaneously helping Reagan get ready to go to the movies with a group of friends from school.
She was thirteen going on thirty. Even though they would have adult supervision, I couldn’t be held accountable for Duncan’s reaction if he found out there would be boys attending this little outing.
Lord save us all, he’d blow a gasket right after he got his gun.
“Mom, what about this?”
She walked out of my bathroom wearing a pair of jeans that looked like they’d been mauled by a lion and a teal-colored shirt I was pretty sure belonged to her little sister. It was tight across her chest and sat high on her belly, exposing way too much skin. Was she trying to get grounded?
“No way.” I pointed to her to room, indicating for her to try again. “Sorry, Henley. Can I call you back? You should see what this child just put on.”
“Absolutely. Talk later.”
“Okay, Reagan,” I hollered out. “You have my full attention.”
And she did for about three minutes. I heard their thundering footsteps long before they barged into their sister’s room.
It sounded like a herd of elephants had been set loose, but it was just Anya and Ayden, our five-year-old twins, who were being chased by Ralph.
It was never a dull moment in our house.
“Home base.” Ayden wrapped his arms around my leg.
“No fair,” Anya pouted, then nuzzled into my side. “Momma, I feld.”
“You fell?” I combed my fingers through her thick brown hair. “Did you get hurt?”
“My fumb.” She stuck her thumb up in the air above her head.
I kissed the tip. “There, does that feel better?”
Anya didn’t even get a chance to respond before the alarm beeped on the front door. Duncan was home, which meant her sore thumb would be a thing of the past. Right on cue, the twins squealed, “Daddy,” then bolted to go greet their father.
“I thought they’d never leave.” Reagan strolled back into my room, this time wearing a more appropriate outfit. Black jeans––with no holes––and a lavender scoop-neck top. “Is this better, Mom?”
“Much. Now how do you want your hair?”
“Can you do a double French braid?”
“We’ll have to be quick though. I still have to get ready for the rehearsal dinner tonight.”
Reagan knelt between my feet while I sat on the edge of our king-sized bed. We’d done this countless times over the years, but soon she wouldn’t need me anymore. My little girl was growing up fast, too fast.
Duncan found us a short while later.
“Sunshine.” He bent over to kiss the top of my head, then did the same to his daughter. “Baby girl. What are you all dressed up for?”
“I’m going to the movies with my friends, Daddy.” She smiled at her father, then threw me under the bus. “Mom said it was fine.”
While I’d become Mom, Duncan was still her Daddy, especially when she thought she could use it to her advantage. Most of the time it worked.
“She did, did she?”
My behind was gonna be sore later, but it was worth it. Reagan didn’t come out of her shell often so when she did, I encouraged it.
“Do I look pretty? Marcy and her mom are gonna be here to pick me up soon.”
His eyes softened. “You look beautiful, Reagan. Now run downstairs so Mommy and I can get ready.”