Kristen Ashley - Games of the Heart

“Then use this golden opportunity to pick up a new hobby,” he shot back.

“Is this us? Are we going to become Bicky and Bickrum McBickerson?” I fumed and Mike burst out laughing.

Layla lifted her head and panted happily in his direction.

I glared at Mike’s dog. Then I glared at Mike.

“I wasn’t being funny,” I snapped.

“Yeah you were,” Mike said, still laughing.

I shut up again.

Then I bit out, “I forgot to tell you, I like the ring. It’s beautiful. Probably way too expensive but I’ll only mention that in passing so you won’t get pissed off. And Jerra oo’ed and ah’ed over it for fifteen whole minutes.”

“Pleased you like the ring, Angel. Best part is you rappin’ that information out to me like you just told me the Chinese invaded and their unforeseen attack is ruining our dinner plans.”

I glared at him again.

Then what he said penetrated and I felt the smile spread on my face.

Then I shared, “Bickering with you is fun.”

“That’s good because I’m sensing we got a lifetime of it.”

My body started shaking and Mike’s good humor fled as his eyes moved to my chest and he scowled.

I fought back the laughter and whispered, “Mike, I’m past the point where I can’t laugh. Trust me. I know.”

And I did. When Jerra and Hunter showed the day after I was shot and Jerra made me laugh in the hospital, it hurt like a bitch. They left their kids with Hunter’s parents and Hunter had to go back. But Jerra stayed after declaring she was in for the long haul and, as ever with Jerra, she did not lie.

His eyes came back to me and his scowl cleared.

I kept whispering when I assured him, “I’m gonna be okay.”

His eyes moved over my face then he reached out a hand and glided his fingers along my jaw.

That felt sweet.

Then he dropped his hand to the bed and whispered, “Yeah.”

“And soon, we’ll be able to have sex again.”

He grinned and repeated, “Yeah.”

“And after that, we’ll get married.”

Mike just kept grinning at me.

I kept talking.

“Then we’ll make babies.”

Mike’s grin got bigger.

My hand went from Layla to cover his on the bed, his twisted and his fingers curled around mine.

“I love you, Jonathan Michael Haines.”

His hand gave me a squeeze.

Then he whispered, “Yeah.”

He might just have said, “yeah”.

But his beautiful eyes, so close, staring deep into mine, told me a whole lot more.

Seven years later…

Fin slid his hand up the skin of Reesee’s side, in over her ribs, his eyes watching his hand’s movements.

“Baby,” she whispered in her soft voice and he looked to her face.

Then he couldn’t stop himself. He very rarely could but when they were like this, never.

He dropped his head and took her mouth.

She whimpered down his throat.

His body was pressed to her side. He rolled over her and his hand slid up to cup her breast, his thumb sliding over the hard peak.

She drew in a sharp breath, sucking his tongue deeper into his mouth.

God, she was hot. Hot and sweet, his Reesee.

Fuck, he loved her.

He broke the kiss and slid his lips down her cheek, her jaw to her neck.

“Like this bikini,” he muttered against her skin.

“I’m bein’ bad,” she whispered.

Yeah she was.

Thank God.

His thumb slid back over her nipple and she squirmed under him.

“How’s that?” He was still murmuring against her skin, his lips moving, his tongue darting out to taste.

“I bought this bikini for our honeymoon. You aren’t supposed to see it yet.”

He grinned against her neck.

He was about to hook his thumb in the material to tug it down when her hands that were moving over his back suddenly stopped moving and her arms wrapped tight around him.

Her sweet, soft voice was thick when she whispered, “I’m marrying the first boy I ever loved tomorrow.”

His head came up and he looked down at her, her long, dark blonde hair spread across the blanket, her gentle, dark brown eyes warm on him.

“The only boy you ever loved,” he corrected and her lips quirked in her cute smile.

Then they stopped quirking and she looked deep in his eyes, her hand gliding along his back, in, up his chest so it could cup his jaw.

“The only boy I ever loved,” she said quietly.

His eyes moved over her beautiful face.

Then he whispered, “Yeah.”

Then he dropped his head and kissed her on a blanket by the side of the creek at the watering hole, one of their horses, Dreamweaver chewing at the grass ten feet away, the hot, muggy Indiana sun beating down on their bodies.

A perfect day. Nothing could be more perfect. Nothing.

Until tomorrow.

Clarisse rode in front of Fin on Dreamweaver’s back, her mind on the fact she was late and also on the fact she didn’t give a flip.

All day at the watering hole with a picnic basket and Fin.

Nope, she didn’t give a flip.

She knew she was supposed to be doing other stuff. She was getting married tomorrow.

She also didn’t give a flip about that either. Fin asked her to spend the day with him and tomorrow would be crazed, she knew it. It was their day but she’d been to a lot of weddings. It might be their day but they wouldn’t be spending a lot of it together.

No way she was saying no.

Fin trotted the horse into the barn then stopped her close to her stall and threw a leg over, dismounting. Then his hands came to her hips and he pulled her off but he did this standing close so her body skimmed his the whole way down.

That was Fin. Three years ago, when she opened the floodgates, he took every opportunity to cop a feel.

She didn’t give a flip about that either.

When her feet were on the ground, instead of moving away, his arms circled her.

She put her hands on his chest and tipped her head back to look at him.

“I gotta get goin’, baby,” she said softly. “Get to Dad and Dusty’s, take a shower. The girls will be around in an hour and the guys are descending here soon. We have to hurry, put up Dream and get a move on.”

“Need you to come in the house,” he told her.

“Fin, we don’t have time.”

His arms gave her a squeeze.

“We’re makin’ time, beautiful. I need you to come in the house.”

She suddenly started thinking about all the things she needed to think about. Fin’s bachelor party tonight and how she hoped he didn’t get blitzed and his idiot friends didn’t do anything stupid. Her girls were coming over and the beauty technicians showing up to do manicures, pedicures, facials and shoulder massages. She had to rinse out her bikini so it could air dry overnight and she could pack it with her other stuff tomorrow.

“Fin –”

“Reesee, honey,” another arm squeeze, “ten minutes.”

She studied him and saw something in his face. She didn’t know what. But whatever it was, it made her nod.

“I’ll deal with Dream when you take off,” he muttered, grabbed Dream’s reins and led her to the stall where he clipped her to the long leather strap there.

Then Fin took Clarisse’s hand, led her into the house and up the stairs.

The house, now, was just Fin’s.

And, tomorrow, Clarisse’s.

Kirb was gone. Like Clarisse and No, he’d gone to college. He studied agriculture, graduated and now he worked the land with Fin but he and his girlfriend lived in an apartment in town, saving to buy a house in one of the developments close by.

Fin’s Mom was gone too but she’d only moved out three months ago. She did this so Fin and Clarisse could have the house just to themselves starting out. And she was able to because she’d been working the last six years, starting out as Tanner Layne’s receptionist part-time. Then Mimi needed her back so she worked part-time for Mr. Layne and part-time for Mimi. Then Mimi really needed her at the front and helping with baking so she went full-time for Mimi which was where she stayed. She didn’t make a mint but when her Dad died last year, he left her a little nest egg and Kirb and Fin gave her more. She wasn’t living the highlife, she had a small, one-bedroom apartment that was close enough she could walk to the Coffee House and it was cute. So she wasn’t complaining.