Rising from the Ashes (17 page)

“How do you feel about having a baby?”

She lifted her head and looked at me. “Like right now?”

I knew the nervousness was setting in when she started biting her bottom lip. I needed to ease the tension.

“No, not right now. I might be a stud, but I don’t think I could pull it off right this second. Gimme a few minutes.”

She punched me in the gut and laughed when I let out an
oomph
. Once I got my breath back, I looked at her expectantly. She took a deep breath, and I held mine in anticipation.

“Yeah…” she finally answered although I could see something lingering in her eyes. I just wasn’t able to tell what it was. I had told myself over and over that her hesitancy wasn’t a big deal, that she’d eventually let her guard down, but I wasn’t completely confident that it was true.

I didn’t like the way she would start to shut down whenever we got on the topic of our future. I knew she loved me, but it seemed like she was always waiting for something bad to happen, for the other shoe to drop. I just couldn’t figure out what she was waiting for.

“I’d like to have a baby one day.” A playful grin slowly spread across her face. “Maybe after I’m done slumming it with you and settle down with the right guy, you know? Have the white picket fence, a golden retriever named Scout, and two point five kids.”

There’s my sarcastic girl.

I slid my hands to her waist and started tickling. There wasn’t a woman in the world more ticklish than Savannah.

“Take that back,” I demanded. I refused to stop even as she flopped all over the bed, laughing and trying to get away.

“All right, all right!” she squealed. “I take it back, I swear!”

I stopped tickling and quickly flipped her over to pin her beneath me. “Who are you having kids with?” I tried my hardest to sound casual, but a large part of me needed her to acknowledge what we were to each other. I couldn’t give a shit if I was acting like a vagina. I needed her to say it.

She stared up at me, and I thought I saw something flicker across those beautiful eyes, only for it to disappear before I could tell what it was.

“Who are you having kids with, Savannah?” I asked again with a little more conviction. I knew I should try not to freak her out, but I needed an answer.

Finally, after a few heart-stopping seconds, she whispered, “You.”

With just that one little word, I was able to breathe again. “That’s right, sugar, no one else. It’s just me and you from here on out.” I leaned down and kissed her like my life depended on it—because in some ways, it did. After just a few short moments, I started getting hard, and I needed her again.

I trailed my lips down her neck and nipped at her collarbone as I moved my hand between her legs. She was already dripping wet, ready for me. I loved how her body instantly responded to my touch.

I gently brushed over her clit, intentionally trying to make her beg. I had to hear how desperate she was for me. I ran a finger through the wetness and slowly pushed it in before pulling it out at the same pace. Her hips jerked in an attempt to get my finger back, but I wasn’t done playing.

“Tell me what you need, baby,” I whispered before teasingly flicking my tongue over her nipple.

“Please…Jeremy,” she moaned.

A light sheen of sweat covered her flawless skin, and I knew she was getting desperate.

“Please what, sugar? Tell me what you want.”

She grabbed my wrist and held it tightly. “Quit playing around and fuck me already,” she demanded.

There’s my Savannah.

I loved it when she got fiery in bed. Never one to play the timid little thing, she knew what she wanted and accepted nothing less.

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied with a smile as I drove myself balls-deep into that perfect, tight warmth of hers.

Christ, I wanted to stay there for the rest of my life, but when she started writhing and moaning underneath me, I couldn’t help but move with her.

Savannah’s hips lifted, meeting me thrust for thrust. “You feel so good.”

“Tell me you love me,” I demanded.

She opened her eyes and locked in on mine, so I could see how serious she was.

“I love you so much, Jeremy,” she whispered.

And I could hear the conviction in her words.

“Only ever you, sugar.”

I tried to roll out of bed for the third time, but was yanked back into Jeremy’s rock-hard chest…for the third time.

“Jer, I gotta go. You’ve already made me late.”

“Mmm,” he mumbled into my neck as he brushed my hair aside.

I loved it when he did that. It was like he was trying to commit my scent to memory.

“Blow ’em off, Savvy. I’m not ready to let you go yet.”

I started laughing hysterically. “I’m so telling the girls you just said that.”

That got him to let me go. He flopped onto his back and looked at me, wide-eyed. “You wouldn’t dare.”

I looked at the clock and gave him a cheeky grin. “Well, I don’t know. I’m already ten minutes late, and I’m gonna have to deal with the wrath of Stacia. You’d have to come up with something pretty amazing to keep me from ratting you out.”

He rolled back over me and started kissing down my neck. “Anything you want, baby. Just name it.”

I planted a kiss on his lips and pushed him off of me. “I’ll take you up on that…later. Now, I really have to go.”

I laughed as Jeremy smacked my ass before I headed to the bathroom.

I rushed in to the diner twenty minutes late and fully prepared to have Stacia lay into me. For such a soft-spoken, sweet, sometimes ditzy woman, she took Bridezilla to a whole new level. I knew I could be a bitch, but she had even me scared to death.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” I tried explaining quickly. “It’s just that Jeremy—”

“It’s okay,” Stacia interrupted, immediately making me question her cheerful demeanor when she should have been tearing my head off. “Jeremy already called and explained.”

Ah, he’s so damn sweet.

“He told us you couldn’t keep your hands off of him this morning and that you were running late because you said you couldn’t function without a quickie.”

That son of a bitch!

“That son of a bitch!”

Stacia looked at me with a less than genuine smile. “It’s okay, really. I’m just so happy you guys are back together that I can’t even be mad you were late on such an important day.”

And cue the guilt trip.

Emmy’s head dropped down on the counter and Lizzy started cursing under her breath. It had been weeks of Stacia’s bipolar attitude. One minute, she would be sweet as pie, and the next, I wanted to strangle her with the ribbon she’d picked for the bouquets. Enough was enough already.

I placed my hands on Stacia’s shoulders and looked her directly in the eye. “Sweetie, you know I love you, but if you don’t knock off this crazy, bitch-ass, bride-to-be routine, I’m gonna take those dyed-to-match heels you forced me to buy and shove them into something that God created strictly to be an out hole.”

Emmy and Lizzy busted up laughing while Stacia crossed her arms and began to pout.

“I haven’t been that bad,” she whined.

“Uh…yeah, you have, honey. You told the cake lady that you’d burn her store to the ground if she put so much as one fondant flower on your cake.”

“And Gavin told Luke you threatened to neuter him,” Emmy piped up. “I believe he said, and I quote, ‘If you order that white tux, I swear to Christ, I will cut your balls off and shove them down your throat.’ Does that sound about right?”

Stacia jumped off her stool and stomped her foot. She actually stomped her damn foot. “It wasn’t that it was
just
white. It had fucking tails, for Christ’s sake! And one of those ugly ass ruffled shirts. He said it made him look like Prince! Who the hell wants to look like Prince? All three of you would have done the exact same thing!”

She had a valid point on that one. None of us could argue with her logic when it came to Gavin’s tuxedo choice. It sounded almost as bad as the disastrous ring he’d originally picked out for her. That reminded me—he still owed us a
massive
thank you for that save.

We gave her a few more seconds to simmer down before I asked, “Feeling better now?”

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Then smiled like she hadn’t just gone postal in the middle of Virgie May’s. “Yeah, I feel much better.” She grabbed her purse off the bar and headed for the door.

The only thing the rest of us could do was follow in stunned silence.

“What’s up, bitches?”

As soon as we walked through the door of the bridal shop, Mickey was standing there with a bottle of champagne in one hand and a glass filled to the top in the other. We all let out a collective squeal of excitement. She got more and more beautiful every time I saw her with all her glossy, dark long hair and bright hazel eyes. Dressed in low-rise jeans, black Chucks that had seen better days, and a Rolling Stones T-shirt that was cut off at the midriff, her gorgeous tattoos and curves were on display for the world to see. I always envied that she could make so much ink look good. The piercings in her nose and lip added even more flair.

Mickey was Stacia’s cousin and her maid of honor. Emmy, Lizzy, and I had gotten to know Mickey when her parents had shipped her off to Cloverleaf to stay with Stacia’s family during the summers when we were younger. She’d been living in Austin with her boyfriend for a couple of years, so we didn’t get to see her as often as we wanted, but it was always a blast when she came to visit. She was one of the most outspoken and loud people we’d ever met, and we all adored her for it.

“Drinking already?” I asked.

She wrapped me in a hug and replied, “It’s happy hour somewhere. Don’t be jealous. There are glasses over there for all of you.”

I headed straight for the table she was pointing at. “Oh, score!”

Lizzy and Emmy booked it over right behind me, each grabbed a glass and promptly filled up. Since the three of us had already been subjected to the torture that was bridesmaid dress shopping, we got to relax. We were mainly there to be supportive of Stacia as she tried to pick out her wedding dress, and since Mickey hadn’t been able to come into town when we all got fitted, it was the perfect chance.