by Amy Daws
“You really think so?” The corners of her mouth lift as she reaches up to cup my cheek. “I just…don’t want anything to wreck what we have here.”
“Aye,” I reply, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to her lips. “Nothing is going to wreck this. It’s not much more than an hourlong flight, and you can come see me as well. I don’t want you to mess up this opportunity just because I’m a needy sod who wants to bed you every single day.”
Her lips pull back into a smile. “I’m a needy sod too then because I love that idea.”
“We’ll have it in January,” I state, reaching out and rubbing her cheek affectionately. “And you can still come to Scotland for the holidays. This isn’t much different than how my football travel schedule is, so as long as you answer my phone calls every night and send me dirty pictures of your tits, we will be fine. We can look at this as good practice for us until I retire in a year or two.”
“Retire?” Freya barks, sitting up on her elbows, her jaw dropped. “I’ve never heard you talk of retiring.”
“I’m not getting any younger,” I reply with a shrug and shoot her a crooked grin. “Plus, I never fancied anything more than football until you, so now I’m thinking there are new adventures in life I want to experience.”
Her face softens as she drops down onto her pillow and covers her face with her hands. “Crikey, is this ever going to get any easier to handle?”
I chuckle and pull her arms away from her face. “What?”
Her green eyes blink up at me. “Loving you.”
“I’m hoping not.” I lick my lips and kiss the hand that holds my engagement ring. “Now…let’s get back to our fight.”
She giggles and turns on her side. “Actually, I was thinking we could make up by doing one of those Never Have I Ever things we never got around to.”
“Aye, which one did you have in mind next? If we’ve only got two hours before this party, I want to make them count.”
She gets a cheeky look on her face. “What’s reverse cowgirl? Because I have to say, I’ve never heard that term on Heartland, and I’m starting to wonder if it’s not quite as wholesome as my beloved Canadian program.”
A salacious smile spreads across my face. “Oh, this is going to be the best night of my life.”
She hits me with a look. “I thought the night we got engaged was the best night of your life?”
I hold my hands up defensively. “It was…but…well, let’s get on with it, and I’ll let you know which one wins when we’re done.”
“Cheeky ox.”
It’s complete chaos when we walk into Allie and Roan’s new flat. The last party we went to with this lot was a No Bloody Kids Do that ended up in a dirty game of Never Have I Ever.
This one…is not.
Our arrival goes completely unnoticed as we stand in the foyer and watch everyone buzzing around like their heads are cut off. All of the Harris Brothers are in attendance, along with their wives and substantial, wild offspring. Leslie and Theo are here with their daughter Marisa, and of course, Vi Harris and Hayden are here, running around after their wee Rocky.
I haven’t been to many parties where children are in attendance, but I have to say, watching all the grown-ups chase after their wee ones looking stressed, but still strangely happy, actually gets me thinking even more about the future.
I’d fancy seeing Freya with a wee bairn on her hip. An image of playing football with my son in our garden while she watches from the sidelines looking bored is a sight I could get used to.
Suddenly, panic overwhelms me, and I grab Freya and yank her back outside before anybody sees us. “I just realised we’re engaged, and I never asked you if you want kids.”
“What?” she asks, a laugh playing on her lips.
“Do you want children, woman?” I ask again, anxiety gripping at my neck.
She shrugs coyly. “Do you?”
I level her with a glare. “You first.”
She narrows her eyes. “How about we both say yes or no on the count of three. One, two—”
“Fuck yes,” I growl over top of Freya’s own, “Yes.”
Relief washes over me, and we smile at each other for a long moment, absorbing the fact that this one part of our lives together didn’t result in an argument. I wrap my hands around Freya’s waist as she reaches up and clasps my face in her hands. Our lips connect in a slow, cherishing kiss. The kind of kiss that says, come what may.
Suddenly, the door opens, and Allie’s voice yells, “I thought that was you guys! They’re here, everybody!”
Our lips part, and then I hear Allie gasp. “What is that on your finger, Freya?”
With cheeky smiles, we pull away from each other, our eyes still locked for a deliciously private moment before turning to look at the hoard of people that have gathered in the doorway.
“Is that an engagement ring?” Vi squeals, pushing her way to the front of the pack.
“Freya!” Sloan exclaims, moving out onto the doorstep for a closer look. She grabs her hand and yanks her away from me. “Are you and Mac…”
Her voice trails off, and Freya looks to me before replying, “We’re engaged.”
The entire group cheers with excitement, and a wee bairn begins crying in the background. Everyone laughs and swarms us, offering up their congratulations, and it’s the most grown up I’ve ever felt in my life.
Before we head inside, Freya pulls me back and whisper, “Mac, touch my ears.”
I smile and reach out, rubbing both of them in the pads of my fingers.
She presses her forehead to mine. “I’m really happy.”
I inhale deeply, breathing in the scent of her. “You know I’m going to buy you a pony when we get married, right?”
“God, don’t joke!” Freya cries, throwing her head back dramatically.
My smile grows. God, I love this woman.
A Few Years Later
“Christ, I’m fat and happy,” Mac states as he pokes his tiny pouch of a stomach and turns away from the full-length mirror in our walk-in closet. He strides over to where I’m lying on our bed and sticks his belly out. “This right here…Pure dead brilliant happiness.”
I snort out a laugh as I prop my hands behind my head to inspect him. The man is hardly fat. He’s been retired from football for two years and is working as a developer for a video game company in London. His desk job may have softened his abs just a bit, but he’s still clearly a former athlete, even with his little pouch. The lucky bastard.
Although, I can’t truly complain. I’m the lightest weight I’ve been in years. Not skinny by any means, but certainly smaller than I was before. Breastfeeding is apparently a miraculous diet plan.
I sigh heavily. “I’ve been pondering how many years I can get away with breastfeeding Fergie because being able to eat whatever I want while the weight just keeps falling off is quite a treat.” I cross my legs and wiggle my toes, admiring that I can see them again. There was a spell during my pregnancy that I thought they were going to be gone forever. “If I had known breastfeeding worked this well, I would have let you knock me up ages ago. Breastfeeding Fergie through primary is probably not allowed, right?”
Mac’s face twists up in disgust. “I think if you like this breastfeeding diet plan so much, you should just decide to breastfeed me and leave the babe out of it.”
“You’re a disgusting pervert,” I snap. “Come to me.”
He hits me with a boyish smile and bounds over to the bed, wrapping his ink-stained arms around me, arms that are now peppered with my name and our six-month-old’s name, Jacob Fergus. He nuzzles his face in my bosom and murmurs, “Or maybe I’ll just keep you barefoot and pregnant until my balls fall off.”
I smile and squeeze Mac into me. “Mmm, that sounds nice.”
“We could start practicing now.” Mac slides his whiskered face across my chest. “I’m tired of Fergie being the only one who ever gets to see your tits.”
“God, we really n
eed to discuss boundaries before Fergie is old enough to understand the ridiculous things that come out of your mouth.” I groan while still relishing Mac’s wonderful weight on top of me.
Mac growls and begins peppering my neck with kisses, his lips wrapping around my earlobe before his teeth bite into the flesh. “Come on and bed me, woman. Your ears are on fire, and the lad is going to wake up from his nap soon.”
“I really should work,” I groan, wrapping my legs around his hips because my mind and my body are at war. “I need to look at the latest shipment that just came in from China. They finally sent my plus-size pet pyjama line.”
“Oh, good. Hercules and Jasper have been so embarrassed sleeping naked on the floor all these years,” Mac mocks.
I smile and run my fingers through his hair. We named my thirtieth birthday present Jasper in honour of the man who stepped aside from our date to let me get engaged to my best friend.
We really are sick in the head.
“How about you put off the pyjamas until tomorrow and you play a game with me instead,” Mac says, his voice taking on a mischievous tone.
“What kind of game?” I ask cautiously.
Mac waggles his brows. “I was thinking strip poker.”
I shake my head, and then an idea comes to mind. “How about Never Have I Ever?”
Mac looks around our bedroom. “We don’t have any alcohol.”
“Obviously,” I state, sitting up, so I’m seated like a pretzel on my side of the bed facing him. “That’s bad for the breast milk anyway. How about instead of drinking, we kiss if we’ve done it?”
“Kiss where?” Mac asks, a lewd smirk spreading across his face.
I roll my eyes. “Our lips.”
Mac ponders this for a second, then asks, “Upper lips or lower lips?”
“God, you are the worst!” I yell, reaching over to slap him on the chest. “Upper…for now.” I giggle excitedly.
Mac groans. “God, I love my wife.”
He mirrors my position, sitting across from me and looking highly uncomfortable in the crisscross pose, but bless him for trying.
“Okay, I’ll start.” I narrow my eyes at him. “Never have I ever kissed a redhead.”
Mac smirks and leans over to press his lush lips against mine. God, I’ll never get sick of that.
He pulls back and eyes me seriously. “Never have I ever given a blowjob on a long road trip and swallowed like a prized pony.”
“Crikey!” I exclaim, pulling away from him. “I thought this was going to be a fun, sweet game between husband and wife. You skipped a couple of steps there.”
Mac shakes with shameless laughter while bopping me on the nose. “I don’t make the rules, my wee treasure. Now kiss me, you saucy minx.”
I bite my lip shamelessly as I think back to our road trip to Cornwall shortly after we got engaged. Mac was so nervous that he’d never asked my parents for permission, he was certain my father would give him the third degree. I could only think of one way to calm him down.
I pucker up and give him a big kiss. “Never have I ever climaxed in less than two minutes.”
“That was one time, Freya!” Mac yells, his Scottish accent thickening up with his anger. “And it was the first time we’d shagged since having Fergie. Going six weeks without sex is ages! You can’t hold that against me for the rest of our lives.”
I giggle openly. “I can, and I will.”
He glowers at me and adds, “You need a kiss for that one too then because I know damn well I’ve made you come in under two minutes before.”
“No complaints here,” I reply and point to my lips, and he kindly obliges me with two kisses.
“Okay. Never have I ever had a threesome.”
Neither of us goes for a kiss. I’m very okay with that.
Mac’s next. “Never have I ever masturbated in public.” I go to open my mouth, but Mac cuts me off. “And yes, that thing you did in my car outside Tower Park counts as public.”
I jut out my chin and shake my head, murmuring, “You dared me to do it, and you were watching me the whole time!” I smack a kiss on Mac’s lips.
His body shakes with quiet laughter as he points at his temple. “No regrets. It’s on constant replay in my highlight reel.”
The smile on my face feels permanent at this point when I change course a bit. “Never have I ever wept like a baby during childbirth.”
Mac points at his lips. “Lay one on me, Red. I have no shame over my emotions as I watched you bring life into this world.”
I grab his face and kiss him proudly, my eyes tearing as I think back to Mac’s awed face as he held our son in his hands for the first time. Becoming a mother was an incredible experience, but watching Mac lose it over his son was beyond anything. The photo of him holding Fergie when he was born and the one of him holding Jasper as a kitten are on constant replay in my highlight reel.
Mac eyes me seriously. “Never have I ever wanted another babe.”
“Kiss me,” I whisper, offering up my lips.
“Finally, something we don’t have to argue about,” Mac murmurs sexily as he presses his lips to mine and lingers for a while. His hand reaches up and combs through my hair as he deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping in and teasing mine.
Before I know it, I’m on my back, arching into him as he presses himself against me, both of our bodies rolling into each other like a couple of teenagers who can’t stop dry humping.
When our lips part, I’m breathless, and happy, and head over heels in love when I say, “Never have I ever fallen in love with my best friend and got everything I ever wanted out of life.”
Kiss.
Kiss.
Kiss.
Kiss.
Kiss.
The End
Did you know that Roan and Allie plus all the Harris Brothers have books? Binge all their stories in Kindle Unlimited now!
The London Lovers Series:
Becoming Us: Finley’s Story Part 1
A Broken Us: Finley’s Story Part 2
London Bound: Leslie’s Story
Not the One: Reyna’s Story
A London Lovers/Harris Brothers Crossover Novel:
Strength: Vi Harris & Hayden’s Story
The Harris Brothers Series:
Challenge: Camden’s Story
Endurance: Tanner’s Story
Keeper: Booker’s Story
Surrender & Dominate: Gareth’s Duet
Payback: A Harris Brother Spin-off Standalone
Blindsided: A Harris Brother Spin-off Standalone
The Wait With Me Series:
Wait With Me: A Tire Shop Rom-Com
Next in Line: A Bait Shop Rom-Com
Pointe of Breaking: A College Dance Standalone by Amy Daws &
Sarah J. Pepper
Chasing Hope: A Mother’s True Story of Loss, Heartbreak,
and the Miracle of Hope
For all retailer purchase links, visit:
www.amydawsauthor.com
Book sweet sixteen complete and the crowd goes wild!
It’s so amazing that I still get to do this book writing gig, but, as always, I can’t release a book without thanking the people who’ve helped me tremendously along the way.
Jennifer, thank you so much for being my favourite hot, bicycle-riding, book cheerleader. I love when we brainstorm and jinx each other because we both care about my characters so much that we see the same future for them!
Thanks to my PA, Julia, for reading this book bit by painful bit! And thank you for your massive football assistance and helping me with the logistics, even when I do take massive creative freedom.
Thanks to my sister-in-law, Megan, for drinking vodka with me and brainstorming these two characters!
Massive appreciation goes to Jane Ashley Converse, who somehow, someway always gets roped into helping me at the end. Your notes are extremely valued, man, and I look forward to having celebratory drinks with you!
My love to
Beth, my Canadian beta who I am constantly striving to impress. Thank you for pushing me and being such a wonderful friend.
And I have to give big props to my Scottish and Britsh friends who helped me get as damn close to authentic as I could for a Scottish hero and a Cornish heroine. Jade, Chanah, Lynsey, and Teresa! You four are aces!
Thanks to my editor, Stephanie, for helping with the voice work in this book and to my second editor, Nancy at Evident Ink for coming in right when you were needed and for Jenny at Editing 4 Indies giving me a fast extra look. Editing is so important and you’re all appreciated!
And thanks to Lydia Rella, my proofer and friend who got me giddy and excited about writing this Scottish hero. I loved our late night chats about this book! And thanks to Peggy for another proof job. You can never have too many proofers.
And readers. Dear lovely, awesome, seriously loyal readers…Thank you! Thank you for being patient for my words and for squealing your excitement to me on social media. Thanks for sharing this book with your friends and for being the best part of this job.
And, of course, thank you to my husband, who just deals with it when I get weirdly in the zone and don’t communicate with him anymore.
To my kid, Lolo, for being patient with me when I’m on a deadline. I’m so glad we got to celebrate me typing “The End” with you wearing a Harry Potter costume.
Lastly, my six angel babies who are always looking down on me from up above and whose six rings I still wear around my neck. I love you all and I thank you for giving me the courage to tell your true stories so that I could go on and tell these fictional stories. It truly is the gift that keeps on giving.
Amy Daws is an Amazon Top 25 bestselling author of sexy, contemporary romance novels. She enjoys writing love stories that take place in America, as well as across the pond in London. When Amy is not writing in a tire shop waiting room, she’s watching Gilmore Girls, Instagramming, or singing karaoke in the living room with her daughter while Daddy smiles awkwardly from a distance.