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Authors: Jaci Burton

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BOOK: Don't Let Go
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“So maybe . . . a short-notice, but incredibly elaborate, wedding?” Sam asked. “I can guarantee you that I'm an expert at that kind of thing, since Reid and I did that recently.”

“That's true,” Megan said. “And it was a lovely wedding. And don't forget you have me for your cake and Sam for your flowers.”

“That's right,” Sam said. “We're all here for you.”

Chelsea nodded. “I love all of you. So we can do this, right?”

“We absolutely can,” Des said.

“Okay,” Chelsea said. “I have to go tell Bash. And then we wedding plan—like really soon. Like tomorrow or something. Oh my God, I'm pregnant.”

She laughed again, got up and grabbed her purse, then turned around and looked at all of them. “I can't believe this. I'm pregnant.”

“We can't believe it either, Chelse,” Jane said with a wide grin. “But you're going to make an amazing mother.”

Chelsea practically wriggled with excitement. “Now that I know it's true, I can't wait. Okay, I'm off. I'll be talking to all of you very soon.”

She hugged all of them individually again, then dashed out the door.

“Well,” Emma said. “And here I thought we'd all be staring at a couple of sleeping babies. This was much more exciting.”

Megan laughed. “It was. Though never discount the sleeping-baby factor. They're both awfully cute, Emma.”

Emma smiled. “Okay, they are.”

“And now our group is having another baby,” Jane said.

“Which is really pushing your baby meter, isn't it, Jane?” Sam asked.

Jane's lips curved. “Maybe a little. Or a lot.”

“Time to order pizza and discuss that in depth,” Emma said, grabbing her phone.

It was turning out to be a much more eventful night than Megan had anticipated.

And it looked like she had more wedding and baby cakes coming up.

Awesome.

Chapter 17

BRADY HAD AN
early paint job that morning, so he was in the shop before anyone else. He'd left Roxie to run the halls of the offices, figuring Molly would grab her and take her out as soon as she came in.

By the time he finished, the office staff had come in and all the engine bays were filled. He slid out of his coveralls and brushed his fingers through his hair, checking in with Molly, who informed him she and Roxie were fine.

What he wanted was a good cup of coffee and maybe a cinnamon roll.

Or maybe he just wanted to see Megan, who he hadn't talked to since that night she'd made it clear she wanted him to leave.

He'd given her space, figuring whatever sudden mood she'd fallen into would dissipate and she'd call or text him.

She hadn't. She hadn't brought him coffee or anything from the bakery all week. In fact, since the night they'd had sex, he hadn't seen or heard from her.

What the hell?

He scrubbed his hands and washed the sweat from his face, then stared at his reflection in the mirror.

Maybe he'd failed to satisfy her.

Nah. That was utter bullshit. She'd responded. Hell, she'd more than responded. As he thought back to that night, his dick twitched.

Bad time to think about sex with Megan. But it couldn't be that she thought the sex was awful. He was great in the sack. That couldn't be the reason she'd avoided him.

She was probably busy, just like him. He decided he'd head over to the bakery and get a coffee and say hi.

He told the receptionist he was going to take a break, then headed up the street to Cups and Cupcakes.

When he pushed through the door of the bakery, he was surprised at how crowded it was. He got in line and waited his turn, inhaling the scent of fresh-brewed coffee.

He'd gotten to work so early this morning that even Megan's bakery hadn't been open yet. Not that he'd been going in there for coffee, though he didn't know why. Instead, he'd been brewing that awful sludge in his apartment and drinking the stuff at the garage. Megan's coffee was so much better.

As he walked into her shop it smelled like he was standing at the gates of heaven. Between the coffee and the buttery scent of pastry, his stomach was growling. It looked like Megan and her assistant were staying busy, too. He picked up his phone to check the time.

Seven fifteen. Yeah, everyone wanted their brew and breakfast treats as they headed off to work.

When he got to the counter, Megan looked up, her brows raising as she saw him. “Hey, Brady.”

“Mornin', Megan.”

“What can I do for you?”

“I'll take an extralarge coffee and . . .” He perused the inventory. “How about a cinnamon roll?”

“Sure. I'll have those at the end of the counter for you shortly.”

She was all business, but he supposed that, considering the crunch of people in here, she didn't have time for personal talk.

He walked to the end of the counter, where he got out his wallet. She had bagged his cinnamon roll and put a lid on the coffee.

“Anything else?”

He smiled at her. “Well, yeah, but I guess you don't have time to talk right now.”

She looked at the line of customers behind him. “Not really.”

“Okay.” He paid her and she gave him change.

“Have a good day, Brady.”

“You, too, Megan.”

He walked out, feeling decidedly unsatisfied. At least until he made his way back to the shop and to the break room. Roxie ran in, and he scooped her up and put her on his lap. She sniffed the bag on the edge of the table.

“Sorry, Rox. Not for you.”

He pulled the lid off the coffee and unpacked the cinnamon roll from the bag, taking a giant bite. It melted in his mouth, and he couldn't resist a groan.

“That good, huh?” Carter asked as he came in the room to pour himself a refill of coffee.

Brady swallowed before answering. “That good.” He followed it up with a sip of the perfect coffee.

“How's Megan this morning?” Carter asked.

“Busy.”

“Like always around this time. I usually wait until after the morning rush before I go in. That way I can stare at all the baked goods without being hustled out of there by the starving hordes.”

Brady was busy stuffing the cinnamon roll in his mouth, so he nodded. “Good advice. I'll remember that for the future.”

Carter leaned against the doorway. “What's on tap for you today?”

“I did a final coat on Wendell Wood's Dodge early this
morning. I'm sanding Larry Hohman's Jeep next. Then I'll start on prepping Cathy Patterson's Mustang this afternoon.”

Carter nodded. “Sounds good. I'm really happy you're staying busy.”

“I'm pretty surprised to be this busy. But I'm not complaining. Happy to have the work.”

“And I'm happy to have someone of your caliber here.”

“Thanks, man. And thanks for letting me stay above the shop.”

Carter shrugged. “The apartment's there for as long as you want.”

“Appreciate it. It helps keep my monthly costs down so I can save money.”

Carter arched a brow. “That's right. You want to open your own custom paint shop. Maybe I should raise your rent so you stay here longer.”

Brady laughed. “You wouldn't do that.”

“No, I wouldn't. But I don't think I'll be able to find someone who does bodywork like you do, so letting you stay above the shop might be like shooting myself in the foot. You'll end up as my competition.”

Brady polished off the last of his cinnamon roll, then took a big gulp of his coffee. “Only if I stay in Hope.”

Carter frowned. “I didn't know you were thinking of leaving town.”

“Haven't decided yet. And anyway, that's not gonna happen anytime soon.”

“Well, if I get a vote, which I know I don't, I'd like you to stay. Even if you do end up as competition for the shop.”

It wasn't often he heard from someone who cared whether he left or stayed. “Hey, thanks. That means a lot.”

Carter's lips lifted. “Yeah well, before you want a hug or something, get your ass back to work.”

Brady laughed. “Okay, boss.”

He tossed the empty bag in the trash and went back into the painting bay, holding his coffee cup in his hand as he walked around the Dodge he'd painted earlier. He surveyed
every inch of the vehicle, looking for pits, flaws or imperfections, making sure the paint looked perfect.

It was, so he moved the vehicle out and brought the next one in to begin sanding.

Before he got started, though, he pulled out his phone and sent a text message to Megan.

Cinnamon roll and coffee hit the spot this morning. Thanks. How about dinner tonight?

He knew she was busy and wouldn't have time to answer right away, so he tucked his phone back into his pocket and got back to work. It was hours later before he had a chance to check his phone for messages.

There was one from Megan.

Dinner sounds good.

He texted her that he'd pick her up after he got off work.

He cracked a smile as he slid his phone back in his pocket.

Yeah, he was looking forward to seeing Megan later.

Chapter 18

MEGAN HAD HAD
an extremely busy day, so she had to spend a lot of time cleaning up the bakery, working on the next morning's inventory list and doing some advance baking before she headed home.

She felt like she was covered in flour, sugar, and icing. Which then reminded her of what Brady had said to her the night they'd had sex, about how she smelled and tasted sweet.

She wondered if he wanted to come over right now and lick some of this icing off of her?

She shivered as she recalled exactly where his mouth had been on her body, and was ever so grateful they had a date tonight.

She went home and took a shower, which felt magnificent and very rejuvenating. She dried her hair and put on makeup.

Before she got dressed, she sent Brady a text message.

Are we going out on your bike tonight? I'm trying to decide what to wear.

He texted back within a few minutes.

Yeah. The bike. Is that okay?

She texted him back,
It's perfect. See you soon.

She chose a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved cotton T-shirt, then put on her boots and headed into the kitchen to tidy up in there and see what she had in the way of sweets just in case Brady wanted to come in after.

When the doorbell rang, she hung up the dish towel and went to the door.

As was typical for Brady, he looked delectable in dark jeans, a navy blue T-shirt, and his boots.

She smiled at him. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself. You look gorgeous.”

“Really? Thanks.” She was surprised at how much his compliments pleased her.

“Are you ready to go? I have Roxie on the bike already.”

She loved that he'd made Roxie a part of his life and that the dog went everywhere with him. It showed how much he cared about animals. You had to like a guy who cared about little furry creatures. “Let me just grab my jacket.”

He nodded. “Okay. I'll be outside.”

She grabbed her jacket and her purse and went out to the driveway.

Roxie was all set in her basket with her goggles and her stuffed chicken. Megan ruffled her fur and bent down to give her a kiss.

“Well, hello there, cutie,” she said to Roxie.

Brady took her purse and handed her a helmet.

“I'll stash this for you,” he said, tucking her purse into the saddlebag while she put her helmet on.

He got on, and she climbed on behind him, inhaling the scent of his worn leather jacket as he fired up the bike.

It was always a thrill to hear the engine roar.

He backed down the driveway, and they were off. She'd forgotten to ask him where they were going. Not that it mattered to her. It was warm out since the sun hadn't gone down yet. The weather was warming, though the nights were still a little cool.

She intended to enjoy every minute of their ride as Brady headed them out of Hope.

They rode for about an hour, and she had fun looking at all the scenery. He took a lot of back roads, so she sat back and enjoyed not only the view of the houses and trees and ranches they rode past, but also the extremely attractive eye candy in front of her. Once in a while he'd look over his shoulder at a stop sign and ask her if she was okay.

Oh, she was most definitely okay.

He finally backtracked toward Hope, stopping just outside of town at one of the parks. Woodsy, yet utterly beautiful, with thick trees and a lovely lake. He'd parked at one of the picnic benches.

Megan stretched her legs when she got off, then laid her jacket over one of the handlebars and retrieved Roxie from her basket. Brady handed her Roxie's leash, which she attached to the dog's harness. Roxie sniffed around on the grass, her little stuffed chicken a seemingly permanent fixture in her mouth.

When Brady pulled a cooler out of the saddlebag, she was surprised, and even more pleasantly surprised when he pulled out a blanket.

“Thought we might have a picnic for dinner.”

She arched a brow. “You made dinner?”

His lips curved. “Don't get too excited. I picked up turkey sandwiches from Louie's sandwich shop.”

“That works for me. Did you get their homemade salt and vinegar chips, too?”

“Do I look stupid? Of course I did.”

“See? I knew I liked you for a good reason, Brady.”

He walked over to a grassy area by the lake, one that was bathed in sunshine. “And it's for my awesome chip selection?”

“Of course.”

He grinned, then set the bag down. She helped him spread out the blanket, and they sat.

Brady poured water into a bowl for Roxie, who went over, took a sip, wandering as far as her leash would allow.
Then she laid down in the sun and nuzzled her chicken, obviously content with her chosen spot.

Brady handed Megan her sandwich, and they split the oversized order of chips. He'd brought bottled water for them, so they sipped on that as they ate and enjoyed the view of the water.

“It's beautiful here,” Megan said. “I can imagine with all the trees it's a great spot to hit when it gets really hot in the summer.”

“Yeah, a nice spot for a picnic. I ride my bike here in the summer. You see a lot of families out here doing birthday parties and things. And if you get here early in the morning, there's good fishing.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Fishing is not exactly my thing.”

He took a bite of his sandwich, then followed it up with a drink from the water bottle. “Don't knock fishing unless you've tried it.”

“Okay, I admit I haven't tried it. It doesn't sound like it's my thing. Icky worm things on the end of a hook and then slimy fish things that you have to clean? No, thanks.”

“Describing it that way makes it sound awful. It's actually peaceful. Gives you time to think. It's quiet out here early in the morning before the sun comes up. Just you and nature and your own thoughts.”

She listened to him while she was eating, and she wondered what thoughts occupied his mind.

“So you come out and fish often?”

“Sometimes. Not as often as I used to. Kurt and I used to ride out here all the time and fish when we were younger. We'd bring our bikes out around four a.m. and just sit and fish and drink coffee and talk nonstop about stuff.”

She could envision that. “I'll bet that was fun.”

His lips curved as he stared out over the water. “It was. Though we'd argue, too. Kurt had a loud voice, and then I'd jump all over him about scaring the fish away, which would make him yell even louder.”

She laughed. “I can picture that.”

“It probably makes you want to take up fishing now.”

“No, it really doesn't.”

“Damn. And here I thought we could make it a regular thing.”

“Sorry. You're going to have to paint a better picture for me. Something that doesn't involve worms and fish guts.”

They finished their sandwiches and then got up to take Roxie for a walk around the lake.

“So, you've been busy this past week?” he asked as Roxie dropped her chicken to attack a random stick.

She tilted her head. “About normal for me. How about you?”

“Pretty busy. Which is why I didn't call you. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. Though I need to apologize for kind of rushing you out of my house the other night. It was rude.”

“I didn't notice. I just figured you didn't want me to stay the night.”

“It wasn't that at all. I would have loved for you to stay. I was just in a weird mood.”

His lips curved. “Which means you didn't want me to stay the night.”

“No, it's not like that. I was actually sorry as soon as you left. I wanted you to stay.” She shook her head. “Don't ask me to explain it. I couldn't even if I wanted to.”

He laughed. “It's okay, Megan. I wasn't offended.”

“I'm glad.”

They made the circle back to the blanket. Roxie had obviously worked up a thirst, because she attacked her water bowl with a vengeance, then plopped down on the edge of the blanket, laid her head on her chicken and promptly went to sleep.

Megan and Brady sat as well. She took a long swallow of her water.

“But I do have a question about the other night,” Brady said.

“Oh. Okay, sure.” She was fiddling with the paper on her bottle of water as she listened to him.

“Was the sex bad?”

Megan's eyes widened and she snapped her head up to look at Brady. “What?”

“Sex. The other night. You and me. Was it bad?”

He looked so concerned she bit back the urge to laugh. “Brady. No. Sex with you was . . . amazing.” She screwed the top on her bottle of water, then climbed onto his lap. “Like, the best sex I've had in a really long time.”

His response was immediate. He grasped her hips and drew her closer.

“Okay.”

“Why would you even ask me that question?”

He shrugged. “I don't know. I guess because you threw me out of your house right after.”

“Oh my God. I did not. I knew you were offended.”

He laughed. “No I wasn't. But I was a little concerned that maybe you thought the sex was awful, and that's why you threw me out.”

She rolled her eyes. “I did not throw you out. Okay, it might have seemed like I did. But I really didn't. Or at least I didn't mean to. And it certainly had nothing to do with your sexual prowess, which, I'll be happy to repeat, was exceptional.”

His lips curved. “Good to know.”

She laid her hands on his shoulders, letting her nails dig into him. Her physical response to being this close to him was fairly immediate as well. A rush of desire heated her, making her breasts feel heavy and swollen, and all the parts south took notice.

“In fact, if you'd like to come back to my place tonight, I'd be happy to show my appreciation for your amazing skills in the sack.”

He arched a brow. “Is that right?”

“Indeed.” Unable to resist, she slid her fingers into the soft thickness of his hair, tilting his head back so she could lean in and kiss him.

He cupped her butt, making her moan against his lips.

In an instant her world tilted and she was on her back on the blanket with Brady's hard body covering hers. She wrapped a leg around his, drawing him closer. His erection brushed the most sensitive part of her, and if it wasn't for the fact they were in a very public place, she'd beg him to shed some clothes so he could be inside of her in a matter of seconds.

He lifted his head, and she was more than happy to see him breathing as hard as she was.

“Dammit,” he whispered, before taking a nibble of her lower lip. “Now I'm going to have to ride all the way back to your place with a hard-on.”

She brushed his hair away from his forehead. “You won't be the only one suffering.”

He let out a short groan, surging against her one last time, which made her moan.

“That's not helping,” he said.

“You started it.”

His lips curved, and if a smile could make a woman come, he should have that wickedly sexy half grin bottled and sold on the open market. He could make millions.

He hopped up, then held out his hand and hauled her up as well.

Brady folded the blanket while Megan scooped up Roxie and got her situated with her goggles and her chicken into the basket on the bike. Then she put on her helmet and glasses and she climbed onto the bike behind Brady.

She wouldn't say he exactly broke speed records, but she knew for a fact he wasn't going the speed limit as they made their way back to her house.

She had no complaints about that, since she was in as much of a hurry as Brady was to get back home. So when he pulled into the driveway, she hopped off, removed her helmet and grabbed Roxie, while Brady pulled her purse from the saddlebag. Since she had the dog in her arms, she handed over the keys to her house to Brady, who unlocked the door.

She put Roxie on the floor and went to the kitchen and put water in a bowl for the dog. She set it down, but Roxie obviously wasn't thirsty, so she got out Roxie's blanket and the dog settled in.

Megan looked over at Brady. “Do you want something to drink?”

He came over and slipped his arms around her waist. “No, the only thing I want is you.”

She tilted her head back. “I'm all yours for tonight. I promise I won't even kick you out of my house.”

His lips curved as he leaned down, his lips brushing across hers. “Or your bed?”

“Definitely not my bed. Or anywhere else you decide to have me.”

He groaned against her mouth. “Let's start with the couch, and see where we go from there.”

He lifted her shirt off as he backed her into the living room, his lips blazing a scorching trail along her throat. Her pulse instantly reacted, thrumming up a frantic rhythm that went along with the wildly out-of-control beating of her heart when Brady pulled off his shirt.

Her legs were draped over the sofa, so he jerked off her boots, then went to work on unbuttoning and unzipping her jeans. He drew the denim over her hips and down her legs, appreciating her skin with his mouth by kissing her hip bone, her thighs, and her knees as he removed her jeans.

She swallowed past the dry lump in her throat when he stood in front of her and toed off his boots, pulled off his socks, then made seriously sexy eye contact with her while he unzipped his jeans and dropped them—along with his boxer briefs—to the floor.

Nothing like a gloriously hot naked man to raise the temperature in the room about forty degrees. Her skin felt raw and tingly as he climbed over the edge of the sofa and pressed on top of her.

He threaded his fingers in her hair, his mouth coming
down on hers in a kiss raging with raw animal passion. She wrapped her legs around his hips and lifted against him, a feeling of needy desperation tunneling through her nerve endings.

He surged forward, rubbing his cock against her panty-clad sex.

BOOK: Don't Let Go
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