VEGAS follows you home (49 page)

"Yes," I respond, huskier than intended.

"And you'll stay the weekend?"

He gently squeezes my hand.

"Yes," I whisper.

"Thank you."

Lifting and twisting our joined hands, he kisses the inside of my wrist. My eyes are drawn to the action and I gasp when the tip of his tongue grazes my skin.

"Please consider sharing my bed with me." His warm breath caresses the sensitive skin.

I swallow, preparing to scream,
Yes!

"You don't have to answer me now."

Lifting his mouth, he brings our hands back to the seat between us. My eyes stay fixed on my wrist. I want to shout for him not to stop and press my wrist to his face.

"Just think about it, please."

His words bring my attention to his face again. All I can do is stare at his lips and nod.

The car pulls to stop.

"We've arrived," the driver announces.

"Thank you, William."

Damon opens the door and slips out. His hand darts back in and I take it. He helps me from the car, drawing me close to his chest.

Pressing his lips to my forehead, I melt into him. He pulls back and I'm about to protest.

"I'd like to take Alex for the afternoon tomorrow."

The chilled air swirls between us, waking me from my lusty reaction to him.

I nod. "Of course. Just give me a call and let me know what time you are coming. I'll have him ready."

A gust of cold wind blows pieces of my hair into my face.

"It will most likely be after his nap."

He uses both hands to gently capture my flailing strands and cups my head.

"Can you let me know when he goes down?"

"Yes," I breathe out.

"Until tomorrow."

He chastely kisses my mouth before taking a step back. My mouth stays slightly parted as he guides me to the door of the shop.

"Bye," I blurt, having finally shaken off the effect of his kiss.

With a half grin, he turns and climbs back into the car.

I stand in the cold, watching him pull away from the curb. My heart aches as I watch him go.

The next morning, I wake to a text from Damon.

19 weeks. Our daughter is developing senses and growing hair. Maybe it will match Alex's color.

I can't believe he's awake at four-thirty in the morning. With a large smile on my face, I get up and start my morning of baking. An hour later, Mercedes arrives, going straight to her office. The unusual behavior makes me pause in the middle of pouring blueberry muffins into the jumbo pans. Moving a couple steps to the office, I stop when she comes walking out with a smile on her face.

"You okay?" I tilt my head and furrow my brow.

"Sure am." She looks down at her cell phone and her smile widens. "I'm going to run out to the coffee shop real quick. I'll bring you back a decaf mocha hazelnut okay?"

"You just—"

She is out the back door before I can finish.

Frowning and unmoving, I wonder what is up with her. Breathing deeply, I exhale and go back to my abandoned muffins.

Slipping the pans into the large oven, I walk over to the speaker, holding an iPod. Touching the screen, I tap the music-streaming app and press play. Lipsyncing to Sia, I retrieve the pastry dough and premade cream cheese mixture from the cooler.

I coat the surface of my table with a flour and confection sugar mixture and then begin to roll out the pastry dough. Picking up the round pizza cutter, I separate the dough into squares. I collect the extra dough and ball it up, placing it to the side. I spoon a large tablespoon of cream cheese mixture onto one square and fold until it forms a sealed triangle.

Fingers trail the exposed skin on my neck. Jumping in surprise, I spin around and grab my chest.

"Damon," I gasp.

"I'm sorry for frightening you." His lips twitch.

"What are you—?"

His lips press to mine.

This isn't a chaste kiss. This is a hard, demanding, wanting kiss that has me parting my lips instantly.

His tongue takes dominance of my mouth. The kiss owns me. And I want it to. When he pulls back, I sway forward. Pressing my hands to his chest, I close my eyes, take a breath, and regain my composure.

"I wanted to see you and tell you good morning in person."

Opening my eyes, I focus on the grin he’s wearing.

Recovering, I say, "Good morning."

He chuckles.

"I'll see you this afternoon."

Leaning in, he kisses the side of my mouth. Instinctively, I turn toward his lips, but he has already pulled away, walking backwards toward the door.

"Until then." He gives a slight nod and disappears out the door.

On autopilot, I finish the cheese pastries and clean up my work area.

When Mercedes arrives, with a smile still on her face and a mischievous look in her eye, I realize she was in on the whole thing.

"Does this mean you’re team stalker now?" I ask, accepting the coffee she holds out to me.

She shrugs. "He needs a cheerleader."

With a wink, she spins on her heels and goes to her office.

I set the coffee on the table next to me, not ready to wash the taste of him from my mouth just yet.

Damon

"Hello."

"You ever thought about a career in private investigation?" Mitch taunts from the other end of my cell.

"You found something?" I place the client folder on the seat next to me.

"Oh yeah, and you ain't gonna like it." He snorts.

"My mother?" Nausea furls inside my stomach.

"Damon, are you sure you want to know this? I mean, this ain't some easy shit to tell you."

"Tell me."

"Damon—"

"Fucking tell me, Mitch," I growl, closing my eyes and waiting.

He sighs heavily into the phone and then launches into a cluster fuck of a primetime, award-winning show.

"Your wife, Rebecca, paid off a technician to get rid of the…uh, of the sample."

"Rebecca?" I choke.

"Yeah, man. She moved cash into the account of one of the techs. I got the tech to spill some information by promising not to share. Apparently, Rebecca wasn't too keen on the idea of having another child." He takes another deep breath. "But it doesn't stop there. Your mother is the source behind the doctor's involvement."

"Go on."

"Seems your mother paid the good doctor to switch up your supply. I’m afraid the reason why died with her, unless I can get a final location on Dr. Phillipson. Which, by the way, the money trail on him ran cold, so I'm trying some other angles."

I stay silent.

"Your mother offered him the money, he took it and handled the
mix up
. However, the tech wasn't aware of this, so the wrong samples were moved around. Turns out, there are at least three other mix up situations because of this."

I rub a hand over my face and roll my head on my neck. Each crack feels like my sanity snapping away.

"Do I have other children, Mitch?"

Panic seizes my chest.
This could be disastrous. Olivia would be lost to me forever. How could this be happening now?

"No, Damon, you don't understand. It's not just you. There are couples out there with children who most likely aren't from who the parents think. When I say there are others, I mean other people completely unrelated to you or Olivia. They just happen to be bystanders."

"Christ," I growl. "Find Dr. Phillipson, I have questions for him. I also want you to collect as much information, legally, as you can."

"You goin’ to the cops with this?" Mitch's voice deepens.

"If other couples or children are involved, I need to think about taking it to the authorities. They deserve to know."

"Think hard, Damon. A story like this will turn into a media frenzy," he warns.

"I know," I say on a sigh before disconnecting.

"Why am I so nervous? Should I be this nervous?" Hugh readjusts his tie for the fifth time.

"Stop messing with your tie." Setting my tumbler glass onto a small wooden table, I uncross my legs, stand, and walk to my brother.

"Everyone is nervous before getting married," our father offers from his leather seat across the room.

Stepping up behind him, I place both hands on his shoulders.

"You've been after Scarlett for years and now you have her. Hell, her mother made sure to plan the wedding quickly so you can get married sooner rather than later," I tease, drawing a small grin from him.

"Her parents love you and want grandchildren before Scarlett has the chance to wisen up and leave your ass. So, I'd say she's stuck with you now."

"Okay, enough teasing my baby." Heidi steps into the room, shooing me back to my chair.

Turning him away from the mirror, she adjusts his tie to perfection. Taking Hugh's head between her hands, she pulls his face close and whispers.

A part of me aches with a familiar jealousy.

Pressing a kiss to his forehead, she releases him. Turning to me, she scowls playfully.

"You leave him alone."

While pointing at myself, I mouth, “Me?”

"Yes, you."

With purpose, she walks over, leans down, and kisses the top of my head.

"Where's my favorite little man?"

"Dad is right here." Hugh pats our father on the shoulder.

My eyes widen before I choke out a laugh. Heidi joins Hugh and me by giggling. Our father looks ready to explode and I'm afraid Heidi will take the brunt of the anger.

She sways to him, sits on his lap, leans in close, and speaks too low for me to hear. Hugh, however, is close enough to hear. His face twists in horror.

"I don't want to hear those things." He steps away quickly.

Heidi sits up, smiling. Amused by Hugh's reaction, I’m sure, but also pleased with her ability to calm my father.

"Now, where is Alex?" Heidi asks, rising from my father's lap.

"He and Olivia are seated in the pew with you and Dad."

"Good." She smiles large and warm, the way a doting grandmother should. "Damon," she looks to my father, "let's get seated."

Setting down his drink, my father unfolds from the leather chair, gives Hugh a half hug, and escorts Heidi out of the groom's room.

I smile, knowing I get an evening of my wife and son among my extended family and having my wife in my home for the weekend.

When I approach the altar, I'm still plotting ways to get her in bed with me. Seeing Olivia talk animatedly with Heidi as we line up for the ceremony, warms my chest.

She looks beautiful. Her bright red hair, loosely braided over her right shoulder, compliments the blue dress. Her skin reminds me of moonlight. With its iridescent glow, her eyes are brighter and the smattering of freckles more prominent. She glances up, our eyes meet, and her cheeks redden. My desire to kiss each freckle — visible and hidden — must be obvious.

The ceremony is somewhat traditional, though short and to the point, just as Scarlett desired.

Now, with toasts, dinner courses, and first dances behind us, the reception cannot end soon enough. I'm happy for my brother and his new bride, but I have my own wife on my mind.

Scanning the dance area, I find her with Hugh. They sway to a slow melody and share a smile between them.

"A hundred dollars for your thoughts," Scarlett says close to my ear before sitting down next to me.

She had changed from the large traditional gown her mother wanted into a sleek, silky, white dress. This dressed hugged her body in a very Scarlett-desired, untraditional fashion.

"Isn't it a penny?" I raise my left brow.

She shakes her head.

"With the way you are looking at Olivia, I guarantee your thoughts are worth the extra pennies."

With a waggle of her brows, she grins. Chuckling, I shake my head.

"You look beautiful, Scarlett."

Her grin widens into a large smile.

"Thank you."

Leaning forward, she kisses my cheek. Then, she is back on her stiletto clad feet.

She pats my shoulder and walks away, saying, "I'm going to go reclaim my legally bound man servant before he tries to leave me for a hot, pregnant woman who knows how to bake some good shit."

Pushing out of the lavender silk covered chair, I follow her.

"I don't want to have to hurt my brother on his wedding day, so I better come with you."

Slowing, Scarlett waits for me to step next to her and places her arm in mine. Her head drops to my shoulder.

"You love her, don't you?" she asks.

"Yes," I reply, no hesitation in my response.

She squeezes my arm and sighs.

"Good."

"It could be better." I snort.

"What do you mean?" She lifts her head, looking up at my profile.

"Well, if she loved me in return, it would be ideal." One side of my mouth curls.

She stops, tugging on my arm. I turn to face Scarlett.

"Look closer, Damon. I can't tell you whether she loves you, but there's something."

I pull Scarlett into my arms and embrace her.

"Thank you." I kiss the side of her head. Her words are like a balm to my heart.

"Hey now, you have your own wife," Hugh calls out.

We both step back from each other and turn. Hugh is still dancing with Olivia, both of them laughing.

"But, yours does make some pretty amazing food," he teases.

"I told you." Scarlett smacks my chest before taking purposeful steps.

Hugh releases Olivia and puts his hands up.

"I'm all yours."

Scarlet presses to his chest and whispers in his ear. Hugh's eyes darken. His arms wrap around her and he claims her mouth.

Olivia walks toward me. Before she can step off the dance floor, I wrap my arm around her waist. It's time to dance with my wife.

The music is slow and sensual. Our eyes lock. With my right hand at the small of her back, I pull her closer, pressing her swollen belly against me. My left hand intertwines with her right and I curl our arms close between us. We move rhythmically to the beat and I mouth the next line in song.

“Now you know. Everywhere on Earth you go, you're going to have me as your man.”

Her eyes widen and the parting of her lips draws my attention. Dipping my head, my mouth barely touches hers when the sound of her cell phone breaks the moment.

I growl.

She blushes, pulling away to take the phone out of a pocket hidden in the dress.

"Hello," she answers.

Pressing a finger to her other ear, she begins to nod and look around the room.

"I'll get him ready." She pauses. "Okay. Bye."

Slipping the phone back into her pocket, she looks up at me.

"That was Ced. She's almost here to get Alex."

She fidgets. I'm not sure whether it's from our moment on the dance floor or thinking about us being alone this weekend. Maybe it's both.

"I need to get him and his things together."

Olivia starts walking away.

"I'll help."

"You don't have—"

"I want to."

Taking her hand, we walk through the crowd, looking for Heidi, knowing she has Alex. She's had him most of the evening.