DOTTY (The Naughty Ones Book 3) Page 12

  Her words are a mashup of her own and all those corny movies Jack gave me with instructions to watch them all, no matter how crazy it may seem.

  This moment right here? It’s possibly the most romantic, corniest thing I’ve ever heard and yet I get it.

  I get what she’s saying and not saying. To Dot, I am her safety net, her every romantic dream. I beat out that sonofabitch from the movies and that poster she keeps hidden in her room.

  I get that she’s laying herself bare for me and that the ball is in my court.

  “Is that right? You got over your aversion to being the wife of a rancher who tracks shit into the house and works with dumb animals all day long?” I goad her, watching her little mouth purse as she clenches her lips.

  “I didn’t mean what I said.”

  “No? Then why say it, Dotty? See, I went after you because as your man and the one who messed it all up, I wanted to fix it and explain—”

  “You don’t have to! I get it now, Paul. You started out thinking that you and I were just a means to an end and then you fell for me,” she yells, making my lips twitch at the anger she can’t control.

  “You think so?”

  That gives her pause and I want to kick myself for being this harsh but I have an agenda here too, you know. Before we take one more step and seal our life together I want her to be her, not the shy girl who doesn’t even talk unless she has to. Not the girl who strove to be so successful but felt empty, and sure as shit not the woman who tries to please everyone around her.

  I want the Dot who was happy and had a voice.

  This life we’re going to build and live together is not ever going to be perfect. It’s a hard, punishing life with work and fighting against nature and I need my woman to be strong enough to live it as my equal, not some fucking doormat that will let me walk all over her like people have been doing most of her life.

  “Paul.”

  “No really, Dot, if you’re so Goddamn sure I love you so much, then why walk away without even fighting for me? Why leave me alone and swallowing words that you deserved to hear but were too afraid to let me give you? You think I should just stand here and believe every word you have to say just because you say it? I trusted you once to be more than a coward who runs and you proved me wrong. You think I love that?”

  Her blue eyes, well one of them, at any rate, narrows and I see her temper go hot just before she stalks over and starts drilling her finger into my chest.

  “You ass! You think you have the monopoly on hurt feelings? You lied to me. You didn’t tell me anything about that slut you were going to marry, and you didn’t even let me meet your mom and grammy. You had every opportunity to come clean with me but you never did. Like what? Like I’m just some little fool you can keep in the dark because I’m not important enough to deserve honesty? I do love you, but I swear to God, sometimes I don’t even know why!”

  My smile is huge when she finally stops trying to drill a hole in me and I can’t resist sweeping her up and laying a fat one on her as she gasps and struggles, slapping at my chest.

  “Hush, Dot. Stop.” I laugh when she goes for my nuts with her knee.

  “You hush, idiot! You freaking pig-headed ass. I went to all this trouble and even got a wax to show off my new tattoo and you’re giving me hell? Loser!”

  That fucking does it.

  I throw her over my shoulder to the sounds of hooting and stalk into our home, not stopping till she’s out of breath and beneath me in our bed, where I need her scent again.

  “I love you, woman. I have loved you since the first moment I looked up and saw you staring at the wall and mumbling to yourself. You were so freaking cute that when I found out you were supposed to marry my ass of a cousin, I got downright furious at myself for even looking at you in the first place.”

  Dot stops slapping at my face and goes still, her blue eyes staring up at me with hope and a little smile that’s all embarrassment for that first meeting.

  “I was never going to marry him.”

  “I know that now,” I growl, adjusting my hips to lie between her legs. “But I didn’t then and I was mad as hell thinking he was getting such a gem while I was never going to have any of this. I never wanted to risk loving again, and that meant I would be alone and never have a family or any of the things I’d wanted before.”

  “Paul—”

  “Shut up, woman, I’m not finished. I’m an ex-tycoon with dreams of living this hard life and having a wife and ten kids to drive me nuts when I come in from the ranch every evening. I let go of it all after Sarah and I never wanted to think about it again. Then I saw you and I should have known that I wanted it all. With you.

  “But I’m stubborn. I kept telling myself to stay away and then when I couldn’t anymore I made all these excuses to justify what I was going to do. Marrying you would never have been a tool to use against Alex, because honestly, I would never have let you go anyway. I realized when we got here that you were mine and I knew for damn sure that I was just bullshitting myself the day you let me teach you to swim.”

  “Why then?”

  “Because you were giving me all that trust and I realized what a gift that was. I wanted everything else you had to give me then and I just…I knew that I wanted to keep you, and fuck whatever vendetta I had going against Alex. That part of my life didn’t matter anymore. All I needed to do was get rid of the baggage so that we could be together, here.”

  “I believe you.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yup. By the way, I still have three gifts to give you. You kind of ruined my moment a little with your bullcrap, but no worries.”

  “Gifts? Baby, all I need is you. You’re every gift I could ever want and more,” I croon, leaning in to kiss her.

  She stops me, though, and scowls.

  “Stop, Casanova, this is serious. The first gift is…well, it’s a video that I should tell you about before—”

  “Babe, I’ve seen the thing a million times already, and anyway, I got the live show.” I laugh, loving the way she rolls her eyes.

  “Those men are freaking busybodies, the lot of them.”

  “Can’t deny it.”

  “You were there?”

  There comes the blush I love so much and I laugh as I lean down to smooch her, shaking my head at her look of embarrassment.

  “I was. You thought I’d let you marry that ass without at least trying to get you back? Have to admit, though, the show was spectacular. No more Barney panties, woman, those shits are indecent and should be illegal what with that ass of yours being so hot.”

  She giggles and settles, running her hands through my hair where my hat pushed it all flat with sweat.

  “Indie already sold them online.”

  “What are the other gifts? No offense, babe, but if you don’t get this over with I’m going to lose my dick to my zipper and those rug rats will be impossible.”

  Her gasp when I lift her skirt and free my shaft is a huge turn-on, as is the fact that my flesh encounters wet heat and a tightness that makes me tremble down to my toes.

  The feel of her as I push home and pause is so perfect I could cry like a bitch. She’s here with me, forever, and I feel so lucky it’s overwhelming.

  “Oh, uh, um. Maybe we should talk after. Oh, right there,” she groans when I angle my hips and hit her so deep I swear I feel her womb kiss me.

  The sex is not sex. No, I make love to her slowly, pushing her clothes aside as I reaffirm our bond and make her sing and sigh beneath me.

  I feel her everywhere, sucking at me, loving me, and when we finally come together it’s a slow but breathtaking explosion that binds us together.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Th-th-th-that’s All Folks

  Dot

  I never got to give Paul my last surprise after he undressed me and got a load of my tattoo, spelling out his name and the words wife of just above my mound.

  Something about it seemed to drive him completely
wild and he fell on me like a madman, making love to me all through the day and into the night to slake the lust and need that we’d been denying ourselves for weeks since I walked out on him.

  It’s early morning, yet as I open my eyes and read 4 a.m. on the bedside clock I bolt up and spring for the bathroom.

  I puke so hard I think I tear something just before I feel a cool washcloth scrape over my nape and feel his hands on my back.

  My groan is heartfelt as I lay in the toilet waiting for this to end.

  I already apologized to the crab cakes and just bit the bullet on this one. Seems Mr. Super Sperm managed to get a swimmer past my contraceptive and he knocked me up.

  I’m not complaining or anything, but I am not exactly impressed that I’m going to be a mom before I had some alone time with my guy.

  I’m selfish that way. I wanted just a year or two with him before we had kids, but what can I say? I like sex with him more than anything, so I’m as much to blame as he is.

  “Baby? You okay? Was it the ice cream?”

  His innocent question makes me heave again and I turn to glare at him before spitting and flushing the loo, getting to my feet to brush the taste of death from my mouth and tongue.

  “No. It was not. It was you.”

  “Me? What…shit,” he says, going deathly pale as the realization hits.

  That’s my Paul, quick on the uptake.

  When he’s feeling less likely to faint and seems to snap out of the shock he just drops to his knees in front of me and clutches me to him, muttering something I can’t make out beneath his breath.

  “You okay there? Should I go find some smelling salts?” I laugh when he just surges up with me in his arms and runs for the bed.

  “You should be resting. Oh hell, are you still sick? Should I call the doctor?”

  He’s not really asking at this point and I laugh myself green again when he starts pacing in circles before giving me the widest grin and pouncing for me.

  “Dot.”

  “Oh hush before I start bawling. I’m happy so don’t start having a meltdown on me, drama queen. The doctor says your little guys completely ignored the no-impregnation sign my uterus was flashing. You knocked me up probably right from the start.”

  That smug grin gets wider and I find myself grinning right back when he kisses me and groans his joy into my neck.

  “I love you, Dot. I never thought I could have everything I wanted but you just gave it to me. Marry me?”

  “As if you even have a choice,” I purr, yanking at his hair to get his undivided attention. “This is the end of the road, buddy. No more hiding things to spare my little feelings, and you are definitely finishing the sale of your company. I don’t want to leave here, and you are no longer a suit. Got me?”

  He smiles wide in response.

  I guess that damned psychic was right after all. I really was going to marry a man with the name of the seasons.

  Chapter Nineteen

  He is Coming

  Percy

  The sound of crying kids and laughing penetrates my fog and I look up at my family as they keep going nuts around me. We’ve all been here on Paul and Dot’s ranch for the last week as we geared up for their wedding and took a load off.

  Jack, as Callie’s man and the leader of our motley band, hired two temporary chefs to help the one currently on the payroll to manage what we had on the books.

  So here I am, up to my neck on nature and the smell of cow crap while my people all dance around and make general tools of themselves.

  I’m happy that they’re all happy. It just turns out I’m miserable and plotting a murder as they all dance around me and don’t even see that I’m not into this.

  The problem is that fucking psychic and her predictions.

  I’ve been dodging life lately, trying to stay away from anything that could doom me to that prediction, and it’s driving me nuts.

  There is only one man that I have ever loved that’s said to be headed my way, and just the thought of Marks coming back has my heart palpitating with fear.

  I am a Naughty One. One of Gruffy’s adopted waifs and a member of the “kick life’s ass” crew. I take this all very seriously and I love the position I have in our little club because it’s given me an escape, given my life meaning since I was five and my mom made me aware of the facts of life. Mainly that it’s not fair and I shouldn’t ever expect it to be.

  When I got with my girls and they pulled me into their love with Gruffy, I dug in and did anything and everything to stay.

  Me and Indie, we’re the muscle. The mouths. The bad chicks who live fast and party faster. And harder. I have a man for every day of the week, except weekends, cause a girl’s gotta rest, ya know.

  I’ve been me for the last eight years since college and that one fateful year that hardened me, ruined me for anything and anyone else.

  See, I went and fell in love. With the football jock. The hot guy. The popular asshole who was so not my speed but I couldn’t resist.

  I took one look at Markus Marks and my soft bits went molten. My brain went mush. My heart went boom.

  It was hard and fast and when he turned my way, saw me with all my bad attitude and multicolored hair, well that was it for me.

  Percival Reginald Leighton, the loud-mouthed rebel, was in love with a clean-cut jock with no piercings, tattoos, or swag. It’s so freaking trite when I think of it now, but as it stood I was the bad girl who went for the good, wholesome boy.

  And man, did that good wholesome boy make me believe that we were destined to be.

  After my first stammered hello and a blush that should not have happened but did, he smiled back at me we were inseparable after that.

  I spent all my free time with Marks, as I have always called him. I lied to my friends, letting them down time and time again because he was it for me and I wanted to be with him whenever I could.

  I was pure up till Marks. He took my heart and my innocence and he made me so happy in that year that I was in love. I started believing in fairy tales and all that stupid shit females believe because Hallmark tells them to.

  We were together just shy of a solid year when one day I went over to his dorm and he wasn’t there. I don’t mean he was out and I missed him or something that simple.

  I mean he was gone. All his stuff, everything I’d given him as little gifts—all gone.

  His roommate, this dorky kid I liked but avoided because he had a love of garlic, told me he’d left and that was that.

  Marks just disappeared on me without a word, without a thought, and I was left heartbroken, crying alone in a dorm room smelling of garlic.

  It hurt so much I was in a daze for weeks before my friends finally lost patience and threatened to call in the Gruffinator with her cane and dirty mouth.

  I shaped up quick after that, not wanting to even breathe a word of how I’d been secretly dating a guy for a year and lying to them.

  Plus, I just felt like a moron for ever believing that a guy like Marks could see me and think long term.

  I shook myself and got back to life but I kept remembering Mom’s words that life’s not fair and the thoughts I couldn’t ignore when I thought of him.

  All the time.

  I closed off then and became harder, something that I never thought possible because I was already jaded at that point.

  Marks and his bullshit only softened me a little. Now I was stone cold. I swore never ever to feel that way again and made up my mind never to give of myself to another man.

  That’s been easier than you would think and I’ve spent the last few years being a total bitch. I have a man for every night. They know the score with me and never expect more than a quick roll in the hay or, more often than not, we just watch TV and chill together.

  Because I choose the ones like me, you see. They’re just as jaded and in need of an escape every now and then. Monday, I like him a lot. He likes Animal Planet and beef potato chips.

 
Tuesday is a napper. If we have sex he goes home immediately after. If we don’t he spends a few hours sleeping with me wrapped around him and then leaves in the morning with what he came for.

  Wednesday is a closet gay man. He gives me makeovers and experiments with me to see if he can stay in that closet or if he needs to come out one of these days. Love that guy, he’s magic with a nail buffer.

  Thursday is my crier. We do have sex but it’s not like I’m that into it since he weeps all the way through it and goes mental when he comes. Poor lamb. I keep him because if not me, who else?

  Friday is my end of the week buddy. Most Fridays we just hang out and pet each other a little, except for those days he’s had a really bad week. Then I give him stress relief he can’t get anywhere else.

  They’re my therapy and my “fuck you” to the world at large, because I just know they’re judging me anyway so why not go big?

  My weekends are all me. I spend that time pretending I don’t care and smoke and drink with Indie while she laments a love she won’t tell me about.

  I get that, too. I mean, we’re two peas in a pod.

  If not for Gruff and Callie we’d have ended up in juvie a long time ago, and my color would be orange as we speak.

  That’s my life. That’s me in a nutshell.

  All I know is that a part of me got lost all those years ago and the only thing short of running out to find Marks that I can do is just ignore it and keep going.

  So why then am I sitting here worrying about something I absolutely cannot control?

  “What a fucking ass,” I mutter, shaking it all off and rising to go steal a kiss from Dot.

  I kiss her every chance I can now because Paul goes nuts and all caveman when I do. What? You haven’t kissed Dot. It was an epiphany for me, and while I am not into chicks, that woman has the softest lips I’ve ever smooched.