Just Say Yes (22 page)

“That's the plan.”

“Wasn't that the plan last time too?”

Quinn shot him a scolding look as she hit the button on her key fob to lock her car doors. “No. The plan was for me to get a piercing. Which I did,” she said, pointing to her nose.

“Oh, that's right. Because it wasn't permanent,” Tim said, rolling his eyes playfully before opening the door to the tattoo shop so Quinn could step inside.

“Exactly.”

“So what tattoo are you going to get?”

Quinn shrugged, a sly smile appearing on her face. Then she marched right up to the counter. “I'm here to get a tattoo,” she proclaimed so loudly that a few of the other customers who were waiting on a nearby couch looked up from their phones.

Tim bit back a laugh and shook his head.

A burly man who had been sitting with his back to them as he drew up a design spun in his seat to face them. “That's why most people come here, darlin'.” His sarcastic words didn't match his pleasant tone. “What'd you have in mind?”

“Uh . . . I have an idea. Sort of.” Her eyes darted to the floor and then around the room. “Is there a long wait?” she asked as she noticed the three other customers.

“Not if you don't care who does it. They're all waiting for specific artists,” the man said, pointing to the other people. “Depending on how long it would take, I could do it for you now. My next appointment's not for another two hours. I'm Gary, by the way.”

“Thanks, Gary,” Quinn said. “It's only going to be like this big.” She held up her thumb and index finger to show about two inches in length.

“Color?”

“Just black.”

The man nodded. “Why don't you come on back and we'll talk about the design.”

Gary began to walk down the narrow hallway, and Quinn and Tim followed behind him. But suddenly Quinn's head whipped around to face Tim. “You have to wait in the lobby.”

Tim gave her a confused look.

“I'm going to be a huge baby,” she said. “And I don't want to be tempted to back out when you tell me I don't have to do this.”

“You don't.”

Quinn's head tilted, and she gave her lips that pouty look he loved. “I know. I
want
to.” Then she grabbed his hand. “Just wait out there,” she said sweetly before releasing his hand and giving him a playful shove.

Tim hesitated. The thought of being rooms away when Quinn was in pain didn't sit well with him, but something told him he needed to let her do this. “Okay,” he finally said before giving her a small peck on the lips and returning to the lobby to wait.

Tim busied himself flipping through
Inked
magazine and reading an article about the Nationals on his phone. He looked up when Gary returned to make a copy of the design to put on Quinn's skin. But he couldn't see what it was from where he was sitting.

The next twenty minutes or so passed excruciatingly slowly. Tim shifted in his seat, paced the room, looked out the window at least three times. All he could think about was Quinn. Especially when a few minutes later he heard her call his name.

He turned to face her. “You okay? Did you do it?” he asked, his voice holding as much excitement as relief.

“Yeah,” she replied. “I did it.” She strolled toward the door casually, as if she hadn't just done something she'd never thought she could. Tim followed her out the door and around the corner of the building, where she stopped to lean against the brick. She paused, exhaling slowly. Then she turned over her right wrist to reveal the word “yes” tattooed in her own handwriting.

Tim furrowed his brows for a moment in confusion. He'd never pegged her as a person to get a word tattooed on her. Maybe a butterfly or a flower. “What does it—”

He didn't get time to finish his question before Quinn spoke again. “A few days ago you asked me if I still loved you. And I never answered you. I should have told you I loved you, Tim. Because I do. I'm not even sure when I
started
loving you. The only thing I'm sure of is that I'll never stop.”

It was at that moment that he realized the meaning of her tattoo. Tim's eyes widened as a wave of emotions washed over him. He'd waited forever to hear Quinn say those words.

“But this tattoo is more than that to me,” she continued. “For so long, I never wanted to do anything I couldn't take back. But when you asked me to marry you—for us to be with each other for the rest of our lives—at the time, I didn't know how to respond. It scared me that you might change your mind.”

“I won't.”

“I know,” she said quietly. “And neither will I. This . . . us,” she said, gesturing between them, “it's permanent.”

Tim felt the wide smile move up his face as he blinked back tears.

“So, yes, Tim. Yes, I'll marry you.” Then she hesitated a moment. “I mean, if the offer's still on the table. Tim Jacobs,” she said, inhaling a long breath, “will you still marry me?”

There was no way she couldn't know his answer to that, but he responded anyway. “You're goddamn right I will.” Then he pulled her in to him, his hands holding the sides of her face as he kissed her, tasted her lips, felt her soft skin on his thumbs as they stroked her cheeks.

Finally he pulled away, holding on to only her hands, and he turned one over to admire the script on her wrist once more. “Looks unbalanced with nothing on the other side,” he said.

Quinn cocked her head in that cute way he knew he'd never get enough of. “Are you insane? This hurt like hell. There's no way I'm getting another one.”

Tim let out a loud laugh as he turned her hand over. “I was thinking more like a diamond ring,” he said, rubbing her left ring finger. “Let's go pick one out.” Tim slipped his hands down to her waist and pulled Quinn against him. “Unless, of course, you just want to get one tattooed on your finger instead.”

“Not a chance.”

He wanted to disagree. To tell her that he was living proof that anything could happen. You just had to have the balls to go after it. But rather than spoil the moment, he wrapped his arms around her, leaned down, and whispered, “There's always a chance,” against her lips. Then he kissed her deeply, the way he planned to do every day for the rest of his life.

Acknowledgments

We want to start with Sarah Younger, who is always quick to support us in every way possible. Your ability to calm us down, focus us on what's important, and invigorate us to keep at it shows that you're the perfect agent for us. Thank you to everyone at the Nancy Yost Literary Agency for supporting us. And to Mama Younger, thank you for helping us kill our first character. You're the best.

To our editor, Laura Fazio, we never thought we'd have anyone tell us to add more sex scenes. But we think you got it right. Your ability to tactfully tell us we need to redo parts of our book without hurting our feelings is truly a unique talent. Thank you for your continued belief in us. Your guidance and input have made us better writers, and we are eternally grateful for that.

Thank you to everyone at Penguin Random House who had a part in
Just Say Yes
. We are happy to have you on our team.

Alison Bliss, you're a terrific critique partner. You always find the little things (and sometimes big) that we need to work on. Your insight always helps us improve our work, which we appreciate greatly.

Amanda—words can't even capture it—Petal. You've been there for us from the start, and we love you for it. This journey wouldn't be nearly as fun if you weren't a part of it. Thank you for being a reader, a critique partner, an assistant, and a great friend.

We want to thank our Padded Room Street Team for being the battiest mix of broads to grace the romance scene. The excitement and support you offer us is mind-blowing. You make us want to be the best writers we can be because you ladies deserve it. We also want to thank our expert pimpers who spend time every day making sure people know who we are. Becky Anderson, Megan Cooke, Dawn Stanton, and Kris Umile: Thank you so so much for all that you do for us. A special thanks to Megan for creating the band name Waiting for Someday. It's absolutely perfect.

Erik, thank you for being a terrific husband and father. Without your support, both in my writing and in my everyday life, I wouldn't be pursuing this dream. You, Mya, and soon-to-be Baby #2 are who drive me to do better, be better, and strive for better. I love you guys. ~Elizabeth

Hayley, this hasn't been a long journey, but it's been deep with memories, good times, rough patches, opportunities, and hindrances. But we've endured, and we've done that because we have each other. Thank you for doing all the tedious crap I suck at, thank you for making me dream a little bigger, and thank you for allowing me to be the Elizabeth to your Hayley. Love you. ~Elizabeth

Nick, I'm going to keep this short and hopefully sweet (two things I'm not really known for). I wouldn't be where I am today without you. Thank you for helping me live the life I've always wanted. Nolan, maybe one day you'll read the acknowledgments of Mommy's books (though hopefully not the books themselves). Always know that I believe you can do anything, and always know how much I love you. ~Hayley/Mommy

Elizabeth, there isn't really anyone who can put up with me like you do. I'm married to the only other person who can. Thank you for always motivating me when I need someone to give me a kick in the ass. Without you by my side, I would have given up a long time ago. I know I can get carried away, so thanks for bringing me down to earth when I'm up in the stars somewhere. And thanks for joining me up there every once in a while. Love you. #Lemons4lyf ~Hayley

Curious as to whether a career woman can ever settle down?

Read on for a sneak peek at Cass' story in Elizabeth Hayley's

THE WEDDING AGREEMENT

Available from Signet Eclipse in May 2016.

Cass grabbed hold of the bowling ball and strutted confidently up to the line, unfazed by the fact she was sliding a bit as she pulled her arm back and threw it forward, releasing the twelve-pound burden from her hand. Then she spun around quickly toward her group of friends, who were craning their necks to peer around her.

“I thought you said you bowled a couple of months ago?” Lauren asked as Cass heard the ball land in the gutter with a loud thud. Quinn's eyebrows rose, and Simone bit her bottom lip.

“I did,” Cass shot back quickly, surprised by the question even though she'd only knocked down a total of six pins in the last three frames. “I just forgot to mention it was on a Wii.” She let her eyes dart quickly to where Alex was seated toward the end of the group. His eyes twinkled with amusement, but he didn't open his mouth. “Fine, the Wii game wasn't my best performance either.”

This time Alex clearly couldn't resist. “‘Best performance'? My seven-year-old daughter's got more game than you.”

“First of all, I'm pretty sure Nina's got more game than
you
too,” Cass snapped back with a smirk. “You couldn't pick up a chick in a henhouse.” Her comment elicited a roar of laughter from Scott, Xavier, and Tim and a soft chuckle from Alex, who'd become used to Cass teasing him. “And speaking of games,” Cass said, her eyes darting to Lauren and Scott, “when are you two going to stop playing musical wedding dates? You two have been engaged for months. Have you guys decided on a day yet or what?”

Lauren shrugged her shoulders. “We're between a couple places. Both venues have Saturdays in April open, so it'll probably be then.”

“April? That's like over a year away,” Cass protested. “You guys drag your feet doing everything. Scott had the ring for like five months before he even proposed, and you didn't have the engagement party until two months later.”

“Whoa, wait a second,” Scott cut in. “I was all set to ask Lauren to marry me, but then my impulsive older brother had to go and propose to someone he wasn't even dating at the time.”

“Well, when you say it like that—” Tim started.

“How else can I say it?” Scott joked. “See what I get for being the polite sibling and not stealing your thunder?” Scott settled back into his seat and slid his arm around Lauren. “Not everyone can make life decisions as easily as picking what to order at a drive-through,” he added on a laugh.

“You act like I proposed and we rushed off to have Elvis marry us in some Vegas chapel or something. I knew what I wanted,” Tim said, giving Quinn a seductive glance that he didn't try to hide. “Besides, we put a lot of thought into the actual wedding. So much thought that we even managed to convince Mom to come. And we all know she couldn't stand the sight of me for the better part of the last decade.” Tim's smile had a way of adding a bit of humor to an otherwise sensitive subject. His struggles with addiction had caused a rift between Tim and his mother that no one thought could be fixed. Not even him.

“Tim's right, Laur,” Cass insisted. “Quinn somehow managed to help repair a severely damaged relationship,
and
they planned an entire wedding . . . all in like seven months. It can't be that difficult.”

Tim rose to take his turn, pushing up the sleeves of his shirt first. He released the ball with ease and turned back toward the group as the ball sped toward its targets. “In all fairness,
I
didn't plan much of anything.” Cass rolled her eyes as every pin fell. Tim trotted over to take a seat between Quinn and Scott, who shifted slightly to make room for his brother on the row of beige plastic seats. “Quinn took care of all the logistics and I just gave my two cents when it came to all of the fun stuff like food tasting and picking the band.”

Cass had a feeling that Tim had had more of a hand in the wedding planning than he'd let on, but she didn't question him. “Well, as a bridesmaid, I think I should have a say in some things, Laur.”

Xavier stood, holding two empty pitchers. “Enough wedding talk for me. I'm going up to get us a refill.”

“Well, as the bride, I think you shouldn't,” Lauren said, ignoring Xavier's departure completely. She kept her expression even, but Cass could tell she was holding back a laugh. “We're just taking our time to make sure we're both okay with everything. Planning a wedding's a big undertaking. You'll find out if you ever get married.”

Cass stuck her tongue out at her friend. Though Lauren's comment would have offended most twenty-eight-year-old women, Cass understood Lauren's intended meaning. She wasn't saying that Cass couldn't find anyone to marry her. It was
Cass
who had chosen the bachelorette life years ago, opting to put her career in public relations above having a family. And she didn't keep her intentions a secret. She'd had boyfriends in the past, and every one of them was more than comfortable with her choice. After all, how hard is it to convince a twenty-something-year-old guy that you're not looking for anything serious? “Fine, fine,” Cass finally said. “But just for the record, I haven't seen this much thought go into planning a wedding since Kim and Kanye tied the knot.”

Scott shook his head. “Would it make you feel better if we promise not to name any of our future children after one of the cardinal directions?”

“Yes,” Cass said simply.

“That's a shame,” Simone chimed in, “because I always thought South Jacobs had a nice ring to it.”

Alex sat up a little straighter. “If you ask me, marriage isn't worth the hassle. I've done it once, and I don't plan to do it again.”

Cass had been wondering when, if ever, Alex would give his opinion. The tense relationship between him and his ex-wife, Tessa, was no secret to anyone in the group. For that reason alone, she couldn't blame him for never wanting to walk down that road again . . . or in this case, that aisle. That's why, even though Alex was thirty-three, Cass had no reservations about the casual sex the two of them would have every so often. She knew it would remain just that.

“Too many people focus on the trivial details like dresses and flowers and cake,” Alex continued. “None of that shit matters—”

“Cake always matters,” Cass interrupted as an attempt to bring more lightness back to the conversation.

Alex leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs as he averted his gaze from the group and focused his attention on the beer he held between his hands. “None of it matters in the long run,” he repeated, this time more to himself than to everyone else listening. “The marriage is what matters and when you don't give a shit about
that
, who cares if you have roses or”—he gestured with his hand wildly as he looked to everyone for help—“or . . . What's another type of flower?”

Scott answered immediately. “Tulip, gardenia, calla lily, peony, lily of the—”

Tim shook his head and grabbed Scott's arm. “You're not helping.”

“Right, sorry,” Scott said.

•   •   •

The rest of the group had already erupted in laughter, including Alex, who needed it more than anyone. He wasn't sure why he'd gotten onto his soapbox, but he knew he needed to get the fuck off it. “It's fine,” Alex assured Scott before draining the last of his beer. “Now let's just focus on the game. For Christ's sake, the girls are only seventy-four points behind us and there are only three frames left. I'm worried we might not cover the hundred point spread.” That earned him a hard punch to the arm, courtesy of Cass. “Ouch. That actually hurt a little,” he said, surprised. “You know, you'd make a much better professional boxer than you would a bowler.”

“Clearly,” Cass replied, tossing her blond hair over her shoulder with a smirk. “Someone better tell Laila Ali I'm coming for her.”

“She's retired,” everyone said almost in unison.

Cass glanced around at the group in disbelief. “How did you
all
know that?”

There were some shrugs and some “I don't know”s in reply.

“Well, okay then. I guess Laila's safe from the wrath of Cassidy Mullen.”

“I bet she's thankful for that,” Alex joked as he stood to take his turn.

The guys ended up covering the spread, which caused the girls to demand a rematch. And that was how most of the night continued, with the group of friends doing what they did best: joking, drinking, and talking about nonsense until they were laughing so hard Alex could feel tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Finally, after one more game, the night started to wrap up.

“We should probably get going,” Scott said. “I have some patients I need to check on at the hospital tomorrow morning before I head over to the satellite office, and Lauren has an early appointment coming in too.”

“God, you guys are so old,” Tim joked. He was actually six years Scott's senior, but as a chef, Tim rarely had to get up early, so he seemed to take every opportunity to poke fun at his little brother when he'd skip out before the rest of the group. “Anyone want to go to that place up the street that lets you cook s'mores at your table? They're open until midnight,” Tim asked the rest of the crew after Scott and Lauren had left.

Quinn didn't give anyone a chance to respond before she grabbed Tim by the arm. “We're going to take off too. And don't worry,” she added. “Someday I'll fill you in on what it's like to be married to a fourteen-year-old.”

Alex chuckled. “You might not want to say that too loudly in a public place.”

“Oh, right,” she said, her face reddening.

After a few minutes, the rest of the group headed out to the parking lot.

“So how about you?” Cass asked Alex once Simone and Xavier were in their cars. “You have an early morning too?”

Alex didn't have to try hard to interpret Cass' meaning. They'd gone home together enough times over the last year or so for him to know exactly what she was asking. “Not early enough that I can't have a late night.”

“Good answer,” Cass said as she climbed in her car.

Alex grinned as he unlocked his door and hopped in to follow her. Cass' apartment was closer so that's where they headed. And within fifteen minutes of leaving the bowling alley, they were fumbling up the stairs to her apartment. Though her door was only steps away, Alex couldn't stop himself from backing her up against the wall when they reached the landing outside her apartment. He used his hips to pin her to the hard surface as his lips found hers, moving slowly but with a need he knew Cass would recognize immediately. His hands roamed her body, his fingertips lightly grazing her soft skin under her shirt. Already he ached for her, so he finally released her long enough to let her move toward the door. But Alex couldn't break contact for long. He nestled his cock against her denim-clad ass as she searched for her keys. Just as she found them and slid the correct one into the lock, Alex abruptly stopped trailing his lips up the back of her neck, and his body tensed.

“What's wrong?” she asked.

“Are your neighbors always that loud?”

Cass acted like she hadn't even registered the heavy metal music and raucous laughing rumbling from next door. “Sometimes.”

“That's bullshit. Want me to say something?”

“Now? Are you kidding me? Right now I want to be making our own noise.”

That was all Alex needed to hear. About a minute later, after removing his jacket and unstrapping his service weapon, he was rocking his hips against her as he tasted the cool mint of her gum that still lingered on her mouth. He stayed there, letting his tongue move softly over hers for a bit longer while he ground against her. He allowed himself to enjoy the taste of her before his tongue left her mouth and worked its way down her neck with quick nibbles.

She laughed, the vibration of her throat humming against his lips.

“Suddenly ticklish?”

She squirmed below him. “A little.”

Alex slid his hand under Cass' shirt and toward her back to undo her bra. She arched in response. “Mmm, sexy
and
helpful,” he said, popping the clasp and moving his hand back toward her chest so his fingers could toy with her nipples.

Cass let out a breathy sigh. He stayed there for a few moments, letting her enjoy his touch. He loved how hard her nipples got between his fingers and how her soft moans increased in intensity as his hands moved over her skin. Cass gripped his back through his T-shirt, which she then pulled over his head in one quick jerk and tossed to the floor beside them. “Pants off. Now,” Cass said, catching Alex by surprise.

He gave her an amused grin as he stood up, his cock noticeably tenting the fabric of his pants. “You're bossy when you're horny.” She didn't answer, though he could tell she was biting back an insult. Slowly, he kicked off his shoes and socks before moving his hands to the button of his jeans and letting them hover there, unmoving. He was curious as to how Cass would respond.

She squirmed on the couch for a moment or two as Alex brushed a hand over himself to grip his cock through his jeans. “Let me show you how this works,” she finally said, sitting up to pull her shirt over her head and let her bra fall down her arms to the floor. Then she leaned back onto the couch, popped the button of her jeans, and shimmied them down her legs until she could kick them off completely. “You show me yours, and I'll show you mine,” she said, letting her hand skate down her torso until her fingers slid under the sheer fabric of her thong just far enough to give the elastic a sharp tug until it snapped back into place.

But Alex had gotten a glimpse of what was beneath. And what he saw made him grow even harder. It's not like he hadn't seen it before—her smooth skin just begging to be stroked—but it made him ache to be inside her, feel her stretch around him. This time when his finger touched the button of his jeans he didn't hesitate, removing them immediately and standing over Cass, his cock pushing out the fabric of his black boxer briefs. He knelt down to get a condom from his wallet and ripped the foil with his teeth. Then he reached down to remove his boxers and slide the latex over himself. He was so fucking ready. “Your turn,” he said, gesturing to the small piece of material covering the area on Cass that Alex wanted most.