Page 54 of Boss Me Around

With one smooth motion, I roll on top of her and pin her wrists to the rug above her head. “No way. You’re stuck with me, woman. That getting you knocked up fantasy was way too hot not to give it a try in real life someday.”

Her eyes widen. “Really?”

“Really.” I kiss her, slowly, thoroughly, before pulling back to gaze down at her again. “With you.”

She grins. “I kind of figured. Since you’re naked and on top of me.” She swallows, emotion creeping into her voice as she adds, “Me, too. I want that with you. I want all the things with you. But maybe we should give it a year or two, then think about getting hitched before the baby part? That would probably make my mom happy. Barrett and Wren, too. They’ve been so cool about us dating and the sex tape fallout and everything, we really shouldn’t push our luck.”

“All right,” I say with a put-upon scowl. “I guess I can get on board with that plan. As long as I can pretend to knock you up a few times between now and then.”

“You can pretend to knock me up anytime, sexy,” she says, wrapping her legs around my hips. She wiggles against my rapidly swelling cock with a wicked grin. “In fact, you might want to try again right now. We still have two hours before we have to be at your mom’s house.”

“More like three hours,” I say, brushing my lips over hers as I release her wrists. I skim my hands down her arms to cradle her ribs beside her breasts. “The turkey always needs an extra hour to cook, and Barrett is the only one who ever shows up on time.”

“Three hours?” She loops her arms around my neck. “I could do some beastly barbarian things to you in three hours. I have some leather rope in the bedroom. I didn’t want to get too intense my first time out as Ravager the Horny Warlordess, but if you’re game…”

“When it comes to you, baby,” I say, pulling back to gaze down into her face, “I’m always game.”

Her expression softens. “I love you, Chris. I’m so glad you stayed.”

“Me, too. Best decision I ever made.”

And it is. No doubt in my mind.

Nora

All morning and into the early afternoon, as I prepare an ice-cream feast fit for a queen and her loyal lady in waiting, I remind myself that I don’t do jerks.

They say nice guys always finish last, but not with me.

I love a nice guy!

I have, in fact, dated exclusively nice guys, and have never had my heart broken. Not even once. Sure, I’ve been sad when things didn’t work out, but my boyfriends were so kind during the “breaking it off” process that I never lost my faith in love, men, or my eventual happily ever after.

And thanks to Gram, I have a loving home where I can retreat to lick my wounds when looking for Mr. Right starts to feel like too much.

I’m basically the luckiest woman in the world.

So…why do I feel so shitty?

And why can’t I stop thinking about Matty McGuire, no matter how hard I try?

“Are you going to eat that last scoop of passion fruit sorbet?” Gram asks, eying my last egg cup full of ice cream across our fancifully decorated dining room table. I went with a “Feast in the Fairy Forest” theme this year, decorating the chairs with gauzy wings, hanging birds and fairies from the ceiling, and weaving tiny sparkly lights through the flower vases.

I sit back in my chair with a huff, laying a hand on my stomach. “No, I’m stuffed. It’s all yours.”

“This is why you’re my favorite granddaughter,” she says, snatching the cup and diving in with one of the little espresso spoons we use for the ice cream feast to make the feasting last longer.

“I’m your only granddaughter,” I remind her with a smile.

Her blue eyes, nearly the exact color of mine, dance above her spoon. “True. But you’d still be my favorite, even if I had a dozen. Still going on your date with Sam this afternoon? He’s a cute one.”

“Yeah, I am.” I glance at the clock above the doorway leading into the kitchen. “I should probably go change, actually. I don’t want to walk the muddy path around the lake in white jeans.”

“You should change for sure,” Gram says, scooping a bite of sorbet between her lips before adding, “and pack an overnight bag while you’re at it.”

I frown. “What? Why?”

“So you can get some, honey,” she says, shocking me to my core.

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