Hooked Page 18

  EPILOGUE

  Pacing the room, I think about all the choices that led us to this point. Riley hasn’t been feeling well, and two co-conspirators have convinced her that there can be more than one reason she’s been bent over a toilet the last few days.

  Both Gina and Cassie are out of town and out of my reach. Their meddling has fucked with my sex life, and Gina finds it hilarious.

  Still, I mentally calculate how my finances are going. Things are moving along with my business. In fact, with Ryder and Fletcher handing out my newly minted business cards, I might be in a position to hire a few associates.

  Riley’s been silent behind the door. I have no idea if I should knock or wait. The answer to that question is taken out of my hands when the door opens. I watch her like a hawk for her emotions. Happy or sad? I need to know how to play this.

  Downcast eyes give me a clue, but I continue to wait for her to look at me and say the words. When she does, it takes a second later before her eyes turn as bright as the smile she gives me.

  “We’re not pregnant?”

  She launches herself into my arms on bouncing feet. She buries her face against my chest, allowing me some time to feel slightly disappointed.

  For some of those long moments by myself, I’ve pictured a cherub-faced girl with dark hair who resembles her mother running into my arms calling me daddy. I can even see her holding a miniature golf club from practicing on the green. But my dreams haven’t ended there. There is a smaller boy, a mini version of myself, though outfitted in a button-up shirt including a pocket protector carrying a calculator. Okay, so my dream isn’t perfect. I’d never been a true nerd in that sense. But the family… And I’m beginning to see how ready I am for a family.

  She pulls back. “Aren’t you excited?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  Her eyes narrow. “Don’t hold back on me now, Mark James.”

  Her use of my full name is supposed to be a threat, but it’s just cute.

  “Fine. Like I said before, I wouldn’t mind seeing my baby grow inside of you.”

  I press my hand to her belly.

  “So, what are you saying?”

  Riley is in the prime of her career. She and I know that being pregnant will take her away from her game. And it’s selfish of me not to consider that.

  “I’m saying I’m a little disappointed, but I know we’re not ready for it yet.”

  She nods. “I’ll admit I might have been a little disappointed, too. Cassie has a kid. No doubt Ryder and Gina will be pregnant soon, if not already the way they go at it.”

  “Like us?”

  Grinning, she says, “Exactly.”

  “Can we at least go back to no condoms?”

  Having discovered the wonderful world of her pussy without them meant it had been seriously hard to go back.

  “You just admitted we weren’t ready to be parents. It would be irresponsible not to use them. It’s double protection, me on the pill, you wearing a condom. Is it all that bad?”

  “It sucks,” I say, sulking.

  Sliding her hand up my chest, she says, “So, if we go without and I happen to forget a pill or two, what would you do?”

  That is an easy answer. “Get down on my knees and beg you to marry me.”

  Her eyes crinkle at the corners.

  “That’s what I have to do to get you to ask me?”

  We haven’t really talked about marriage. Our relationship is only several months old. There is so much more we need to learn about each other.

  “Do you want me to ask?” Because in all honesty, why wait? What is it with people thinking that you can’t fall madly in love with someone enough to marry them unless you’ve been together a year or so?

  She bends to pick up her shoes and slide them on. When she stands up, her legs elongate, and I start to think we may not make it downstairs in time. Her eyes meet mine, and I’ve been caught staring at her as usual.

  “I shouldn’t have to tell you when to ask me,” she teases.

  “Yeah, thanks. A man needs a little help. No guy wants to be turned down.”

  “True, somehow I doubt many women have ever turned you down.”

  “There’s a first time for everything. What would you say if I asked you?”

  “I would say… I’m not telling you. But! I will tell you this. You’re the only guy I’ve ever considered being a potential husband.”

  Potential. We’ll work on that.

  But first, she shouldn’t have bothered to get dressed, because I have her naked and on her back in seconds.

  It’s a couple of weeks later, after Riley wins the mixed pairs tournament in New Zealand, that together, we fly back to Charlotte in time for a Valentine’s Day wedding.

  The weather is unusually warm that day for winter, and the hotel has switched the indoor evening wedding to outdoors.

  “That was so nice of them to suggest it,” she says.

  “Will you be cold?”

  Because as usual, my girl wears something that seems too revealing for the amount of cloth used to design it.

  “I’m fine. You would prefer I wear a muumuu.”

  I have no idea what that is, but it sounds like it would cover her from head to toe. “Damn right.”

  Unfortunately for me, she doesn’t change. So as I stand across from her with a crowd beyond us, I want to bare my teeth like I have fangs for all the men who are no doubt checking her out. Her back is exposed and even on the sides, too. She insists she has some kind of tape that will keep everything hidden that should be.

  Where I stand, I feel a slight breeze. I might have a little Scottish blood in me, but Gina has gone too far by making me wear a kilt. Fletcher nor Ryder is wearing one, and everyone had a good laugh at my expense when I had been informed it was no longer a joke but my reality. Something about a kilt is almost like a dress. When I balked, they all said, bride’s choice. And Riley still snickers across from me, but I have a surprise for her.

  At some point, I focus and listen as Ryder and Gina exchange vows. I think again about my future. There’s no doubt in my mind Riley will be my wife. In fact, I want to blurt it right now. I grit my teeth to hold it back. I don’t yet have a ring, and that will take some investigation to get her size.

  Plus, Riley deserves me bending on one knee in grand fashion. It has to be done at some picturesque place, like on a mountain or on a beach. I want to steal her breath when I confess my deepest feelings and hopes for the future. So for now, I button up. Our time will come. This I know for sure.

  As the crowd applauds for the new married pair, Fletcher and Cassie follow, and hand in hand, Riley and I take up the rear. As we parade back inside, I tug Riley off to the left as well-wishers envelop Gina and Ryder.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asks.

  I pull her down a short hall where I spotted a bathroom earlier. Inside, I turn the lock.

  “What are you doing?” She laughs, since I haven’t answered her first question.

  “That damn dress,” I growl while pulling up her skirt.

  According to her, it’s a tuxedo dress. The top resembles a vest/tuxedo, but it’s cut so that if any gap appears, her breasts will be exposed to the world. That’s where the tape comes in.

  “See, you are the one with the sex in public thing,” she says, giggling.

  “It’s you. You make me this way.”

  What I find under her skirt has me narrowing my eyes. “No panties, Eagle?”

  She bites at the corner of her mouth. “Sorry, I guess I forgot.”

  “Forgot my ass. And you’re about to find out what real Scots wear under kilts.”

  Holding her skirt and managing to lift the kilt, I fist the combined fabric in one hand and hike her up with the other. “Sorry, I guess I forgot the condom. No pockets and all.”

  She doesn’t protest, so I slide home, groaning deep and guttural.

  Before desire can override us both, she says, “It’s okay. I know we can get through
anything together.”

  “You’re damn right,” I say, as we forget words and lose ourselves in touch and feel.

  It’s a good thing I’d chosen a bathroom to have my way with her in. It makes cleanup after I come like a motherfucker a lot easier.

  “We should get back. They are probably taking pictures by now,” she says, still grinning at how she makes me lose my mind every time I’m with her. Especially when she dresses the way she does for these formal things.

  Ryder and Gina look pissed off when we join them, but it’s not us they’re throwing hostile glares at, but Fletcher. He looks like he snuck a cookie from the cookie jar. No doubt we’ll find out later what happened.

  Riley and the rest of the Wildes, including Chase, Kaycee, and her brother Landon, are taking a photo. Their dads are also in the picture. I use my phone to snap a couple. It isn’t often Kaycee and Landon, Fletcher, Ryder, and Riley’s cousins, come around. They grew up in Chicago and weren’t always around for family get-togethers. But not everyone is here.

  My sister, Andi, interrupts my thoughts. She’s shocked everyone, including my parents, with her secret.

  “You and Riley? I always thought it would be Gina the way you two are so close,” she says.

  “Gina’s like another sister, you know that. And what about you? Are you seeing anyone?” When she doesn’t answer, I jokingly say, “Chase and Landon aren’t dating anyone.”

  Her smile turns into a frown, and she’s ready to bolt as usual.

  “No way am I dating a Wilde,” she says. As she walks away, she mutters, “Never again.”

  Riley smiles at me from across the room, and Andi’s puzzling words take a back seat to Riley’s gorgeous grin.

  It isn’t until after Gina tosses the bouquet that I get serious time with Riley alone. I urge her to follow me outside. When we get there, it’s noticeably cooler. I slip off my jacket and place it around her shoulders.

  “We could have gone to the room,” she pouts.

  “Yeah, and we wouldn’t come out again all night.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

  I lick my lips because it doesn’t. Still, there’s something I need to say. “You know what I’ve been thinking all night?”

  “How you’re going to get me off again.”

  Sliding my finger down her nose, I say, “That’s a given. But there.”

  I point to the small platform where Gina and Ryder stood. It’s done up with flowers and lights strung above.

  “What about it?”

  “I thought about how gorgeous you’re going to be on our wedding day.”

  God, her smile makes her one in a million. Her father got a kick out of me thanking him for basically having sex with his wife that eventually created his daughter. I think I got away with it because I grew up with their family. I’ve always been around. And when we were younger, all of us boys would say all kinds of things to their dads.

  Riley gains my attention back with her reply, “Is that so?”

  “It is. I’ve told you before you’re my forever girl, and I mean it. Though we aren’t ready for that step tonight, mainly because I don’t have a ring yet, forever starts somewhere. What I do have is this.”

  I may not have had a pocket or a condom, but I did have a sporran, the equivalent of a man purse that went with the kilt getup. From it, I remove a long loop of ribbon. Attached to it is a key.

  “I don’t want to spend another night or another morning without you in my arms. This is a key to my place, but I don’t care where we live as long as we live together.”

  “What’s the ribbon for?”

  “The better to tie you up later,” I say, giving her a little wink. “But you haven’t answered me. Will you move in with me?”

  Her eyes grow and fill. “If you mean it, yes.”

  “I do, and I promise you that you will be my wife one day.”

  Her hand reaches up and pulls my face to hers. The kiss is so damn powerful everything goes dark.

  She giggles. “Someone turned off the lights.”

  “We can go back inside,” I say, holding her in my arms under the glow of moonlight.

  “It doesn’t matter as long as I’m with you. Today has been perfect, the best Valentine’s ever.” She presses her lips to mine in a quick kiss. “I love you, Mark James.”

  “I love you, Riley James.” I lick my lips, testing out the name.

  “I like the sound of that.”

  “So do I,” I say.

  Under the moonlit sky, our next kiss feels like forever. Tonight, we take the first steps into a lifetime together.

  Her eyes linger on mine as she struggles to speak.

  “You have to know I didn’t think a relationship was ever in my future.” A tear spills from her eye. I wipe it away with my thumb. She smiles, composing herself. “I’d written off men so long ago. But you made me a believer again.”

  I dip my head and nip at her lip, which gains me another giggle from her. Too soon, I’ll be looking for another hidey-hole to find my way inside her again.

  “You obliterated my world when you walked into it. I’d be a broken man without you.”

  Her eyes are full of mirth. “Just admit it. You got shanked!”

  She winked at me.

  And I’m man enough to say it. “I most certainly did.”

  Sneak Peek from Sidelined: A Wilde Players Dirty Romance

  Fletcher

  Gray skies and snow flurries greet me as I reach for the handle to exit my old truck. “Boomer, Brady, you fellas stay. You hear me?” Two sets of sad eyes and two wet black noses crowd me by the door. It’s a miracle we all fit in the front seat. I can’t figure out how my dad does it. When I was getting ready to drive into town, no sooner had I opened the truck door and they jumped inside. No amount of coaxing would get them out.

  After I park and open the door, Boomer tries to nudge his way out. “Boomer, stay. I’m running across the street to buy you some food, you doofus. You eat like a horse.” Brady, Boomer’s best friend, doesn’t like that, so he lets out a yap, and then both of them are making such a ruckus, everyone on the street stares at us.

  “Would you guys keep it down? I’ll be right back.” Pushing Boomer’s large furry face back inside, I close the door and lean on the truck for a second. You’d have thought my dad would have stocked the house with at least more than one day’s worth of food for his ravenous pups. But no. Here I am, six thirty at night, running out to buy them more chow.

  I navigate the slippery streets while taking a glance or two back at the yipping dogs in my truck. This should be a quick trip, I think to myself.

  Twenty-five seconds. That’s all it should’ve taken me to cross the street and get inside. Maybe not even that. In the time it takes to huddle, get set up, and snap a ball, squealing tires and the roar of an engine change everything. Glancing in the direction of the sound, I see headlights barreling down on me a second too late. I feel like I’m stuck in the mud, my feet cemented to concrete slabs, as I’m blinded by the beams.

  Pain explodes in my leg before gravity is no longer a factor, and I’m flying like fucking Superman. Instead of being straight, I’m flipping end over end, before I slam back down to earth—or rather a car—as my shoulder, or as my agent would say, my million-dollar-throwing arm, connects with the windshield. Something cracks. And then for seconds, minutes, hours—there’s nothing. I have no idea until I blink because the sound of people yelling from somewhere off in the distance pulls me back. Apparently, after that last hit, I tumbled off the car and slammed into the street.

  No one has to tell me this is bad or that my right arm is completely fucked. In twenty-five seconds, my entire life is altered, ripped away, and reconstructed into something I’d never expected, didn’t plan for, and certainly didn’t want. And worse, the shouts increase as the motherfucker that hit me reverses with spinning tires before he peels off like Dale Earnhardt, Jr. And how I remain conscious and can recall this with brutal
clarity, I have no damn idea.

  Lightning strikes every nerve ending in my body, igniting it with fire. I know pain more than I care to admit. As the starting quarterback for the Oklahoma Rockets, I deal with it nearly every day. But this is an entirely new level. I can’t begin to pinpoint its origination because it’s coming from every-fucking-where. I feel like the guy at the bottom of the pile holding the ball everyone’s scrambling to get.

  In the distance, there are shouts to call 911. Not much later, I can hear sirens in the distance. But not for long. Everything dims, and the next thing I recall is waking up in the hospital with my Aunt Shelly staring at me.

  “What’s …?” I try to say, but my throat scratches like sandpaper.

  “Fletcher, honey, you’re awake. Do you know what happened?” When I only groan, she adds, “You got hit by a car and are in the hospital. But you’re going to be fine. The doctor will be here shortly.”

  Fine. That’s easy for her to say because I don’t feel fine at all.

  “Did you drive here all the way from Raleigh?” Which was a dumb question because, of course, she did.

  “Yes, and I should call your parents.”

  “Don’t,” I grumble.

  “They should know,” she protests.

  “I’m not a child. I’m here to watch their house while they’re on a much needed long vacation. Besides, they need to spend time with my brother, which they rarely have the opportunity to do. No need to worry them.”

  She sighs and opens her mouth to gripe at me some more. But as if she’s conjured him, the doctor strides in, and then I wish he hadn’t. He’s not exactly smiling when he enters.

  “Mr. Wilde, I’m Dr. Logan, and I have good news and bad. The best is that you are alive.” I huff because I don’t exactly believe him, not if he says what I’m expecting to hear. “And you’re lucky that your head, neck, and spine were spared. You’ll have no lasting effects from the accident. You’re going to feel pretty sore for a while, though, because you took a definite beating. However …”

  And I know the shit ain’t good, like the view of a three hundred fifty pound lineman barreling down on me just as I’m about to throw the ball. The way the doctor’s eyes pull down tells me more than what I’m prepared to hear.