Forever Wicked: Wicked #4 Read online

  I grin. “It’s almost as much as what we missed out on last time. Carter was able to use some of his university connections to get me an introduction I needed.”

  “I could introduce you wherever you want.”

  “Yes, but that would have ruined the surprise,” I point out, and Jax pulls me to him for a kiss that’s softer than I expect.

  “I didn’t think you could give me a better gift,” he murmurs when he pulls back, his gaze dropping to my stomach. “But that’s pretty damn good too. I guess I’ll be back at Big Leap once we return from our honeymoon.”

  “That’s good news. It’ll make a lot of kids ecstatic to be able to work with you.” I survey the crowd around us, table after table of beautiful people and famous faces. I lower my voice. “That show at Grenada, Jax… that was something else. You ever think of making a comeback? I hear babies are a lot of work, but there’re two of us. Eventually, you’ll have time again.”

  I expect him to say, “Hell no,” but he’s quiet, which in itself is telling.

  “I’m thinking about how you convinced me to return to the industry last time,” he murmurs at my raised eyebrow.

  The memory of dropping to my knees in front of the man I hadn’t seen in two years but couldn’t stop loving is one I’ll never forget.

  “I almost couldn’t stop,” I admit, and his eyes flash with hunger and smugness.

  “You don’t ever have to stop again.”

  God, I wish we were alone right now.

  I have to force myself to focus when Nina says it’s time to reveal the cake.

  I gape in astonishment at the white monstrosity. It’s five layers of ice-smooth fondant, buttercream flowers, and ribbons draped artfully around each tier. And on top…

  Jax lifts the cake topper to inspect it, a chuckle rocking his shoulders.

  There’s a tiny groom in a tux with a guitar slung over his back. A bride is kissing him, one foot popped in the air with a tiny Converse sneaker peeking out from under her dress.

  “You didn’t,” he says.

  I lift the hem of my dress, revealing a pair of white high-tops I dug out of one of the boxes from Philly. “I wore heels for the ceremony, but I figured this could be my something old. In honor of our beginnings.”

  Jax grins, shaking his head.

  “You didn’t do the whole rhyme thing, did you?” His brow furrows.

  “Well, the whole dress is new, and I borrowed this from Rena”—I point to a clip in my hair—“so I figured I was halfway there. And as for blue…”

  “You’re not wearing blue,” he says without breaking my gaze. “I would’ve noticed.”

  My lips brush his ear as I lower my voice. “You haven’t seen what’s under the dress.”

  His eyes darken. “Fuck, I love you.”

  I laugh as we cut the cake, then Jax tugs me out to the dance floor.

  Our friends join us. Wes and Serena, whom I definitely heard making up this morning in their room and who now look happier than ever. Nina and Brick. Kyle and… some woman from a reality TV series. I search for Annie and Tyler, but Annie’s talking to Lita.

  I gesture with my chin, and Tyler comes over. “You’re not going to dance?”

  “I don’t dance,” he says.

  “Of course not,” I agree, serious.

  Jax’s lips brush my jaw as we sway together.

  “We survived our wedding, and we’re six months from being parents. You trying to start trouble?”

  “I don’t cause trouble. I’m a happily married woman whose husband pledged to love, honor, and obey her.”

  “That’s not exactly what I said.”

  “Mmm, it’s what I heard.”

  Jax pulls back, his eyes twinkling. “I think I’m gonna like forever with you.”

  My heart swells until it’s threatening to escape my ribs. “Me too.”

  Epilogue

  One week later

  * * *

  “I swear you’re clean.”

  “But I can still feel it.” Haley spreads her toes wide, frowning.

  I laugh under my breath. “You know, the feeling of sand between your toes is supposed to be a good thing. Some people call it orgasmic.”

  “I call it itchy. Don’t get me wrong, I liked the snorkeling and lying on the beach this morning. It’s the leftover sand that’s a problem. Feels like little animals creeping over my skin.”

  “Little animals, huh?”

  My fingers find the sole of her foot, and her hazel gaze locks on mine. “Don’t you dare.”

  I stroke my thumb along the bottom of her foot, and she shrieks. My grip on her ankle keeps her from scrambling away.

  “No one’s gonna hear you, Hales.” I glance around the green-blue water surrounding our private hut at the end of the pier.

  We’ve been here for three days, and I’m already feeling the most right I have in years. More than when I left tour or got custody of my kid. Haley is too—the shadows under her eyes are gone, and she’s more playful, more present. This honeymoon cost a small fortune since we wanted an entire expanse of the island to ourselves with no one else in sight, but I’d pay twice that to know Haley’s happy.

  “Housekeeping won’t come until tomorrow. So, you’re at my mercy,” I say.

  “Mercy is not something you’re known for.”

  “Lucky for you, I’m less interested in your feet and more interested in the rest of you.” My gaze runs down her body, clothed in a black bikini top that fastens at the center with a gold clasp and matching sarong I picked out. I shift over her, my loose short-sleeved button-down fluttering in the sea breeze.

  “I want to see it.”

  “Yeah?” Pleasure floods me.

  I rock back on my knees, trying for patience as she unbuttons my shirt. Her breath catches as she takes in the expanse of ink on my chest, gaze lingering on the words over my heart where I had my talented tattoo artist expand the tattoo to include a T for “Telfer,” which she decided to hyphenate.

  I’m good with it now. I know she’s mine in every way that counts.

  “Good luck getting rid of me now.” The teasing in her voice has me hardening in my printed shorts.

  “I tried to forget you once. It didn’t go so well.”

  Her smile broadens. “Now who’s at whose mercy?”

  “Maybe you need a reminder you’re mine.”

  I reach for the mango left over from lunch and lick the chocolate dip on the end. My other hand flicks the clasp at the center of her bathing suit, and the fabric falls away, revealing her breasts.

  Her mouth forms an O. “What are you doing?”

  “Staking my claim.”

  The half-melted chocolate makes a perfect crayon as I draw on her breast. Haley laughs until I run the fruit over her pebbled nipple. Arousal clouds the humor on her face until she’s arching her neck.

  I get a J and an A before the chocolate’s mostly gone. It takes hard work to get the third letter, both on account of the fruit and the fact that I’m so fucking turned on by having her breasts bared to me and the sun, her hips pinned between my legs, her stomach that I swear is starting to curve in a way that’s so fascinating it’s hard to look away from.

  Haley glances at her chest, lip caught between her teeth. “It looks like a T. Who’s Jat? Is he cute?”

  I stare at my wife.

  There’s no woman I could possibly adore more.

  I kiss her, sink into her. With my body, I show her what she means to me in a way no marks on flesh ever could. What we have is sweeter than words, deeper than ink, more solemn than vows.

  I touch her everywhere except where I wrote my name. That will stay pristine for as long as I can manage it.

  And when I sink inside her, pin her hands over her head and thrust long and slow in that way that makes her eyes change color, I know I must have done something right.

  Because this is it. This is everything.

  We’re everything.

  And no matter what
happens at home, with our family, with work, we’ve got this covered.

  It’s hours later when I sit up in bed—a heavenly mattress on the floor of the hut. The sun’s already setting when Haley’s phone rings.

  She groans. “I swear I turned that off.”

  “I’ll do it,” I say, reaching past her to the nightstand and opening the drawer. I look at the number and laugh.

  Haley’s eyes widen when she can tell I’m going to answer her phone. “What are you doing? We said no phones this week.”

  “I know, but give me this one.” I hit Accept and shift back against the wall. “Connor.”

  “Jax.” Irritation and surprise come down the line from continents away, the beauty of modern technology. “I need to talk to Haley.”

  My wife shakes her head, which gives me immense satisfaction.

  I grin. “Yeah, I don’t think so. We’re on our honeymoon. You know what that means?”

  “I don’t need—”

  “It means we’re enjoying ourselves. Being married isn’t the same as dating. It takes a lot of compromise. Making sure everyone gets what they want. Which means lots and lots of practice.”

  Haley digs a toe into my side, and I grab for her foot. This time she’s too fast and yanks it away.

  “Listen. I wanted to tell her that the bid I finished? Well, we got the project.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be delighted to hear it,” I say.

  Silence hangs over the line, the only sounds coming from the ocean licking at the moorings outside the hut.

  Haley’s sitting up now, but she seems content to let me have my fun. My gaze roams her skin, flushed from hours of sex, the smudges of chocolate illegible across her breasts.

  “She tell you we got matching tattoos?” I ask.

  Haley rolls her eyes, dropping back against the bed as she mutters something that sounds like, “How old are you?”

  “Uh. No. She didn’t.” He clears his throat. “Just tell her I called.”

  “I won’t,” I say. “Bye, Connor.”

  “It’s—”

  I click off, toss the phone back into the drawer, and stretch.

  My wife looks at me with amusement. “You ever going to stop giving him a hard time?”

  “Never. You might work with him, but he needs to be reminded I won the prize.”

  “I’m not a prize.” But her tone is light as she shifts out of bed, motioning me with a finger to follow.

  I do, straightening next to her. “Yeah, you are. You’re what I fought for every day. I just didn’t know it.”

  Her eyes shine. “I love you, you know that?”

  “I love you too, Hales.” I follow her out of the hut to the outdoor shower.

  She steps under the spray, and I take a minute to admire her before joining her.

  “I’m starting to think we should never go home,” I say.

  The cool water doesn’t do much for my hot skin when I rub body wash over her ass, tugging her against me. She starts to wash the chocolate off her breasts, and I remove her hands, doing it instead with a hint of regret as the last traces wash away.

  “We have some exciting things on the horizon. A new home in Dallas. Big Leap expanding. New projects for me to work on, whenever I have time for them because…” She rubs a hand over her stomach, and my face splits into a grin.

  I soap up her stomach even more carefully than her breasts.

  “Annie thinks it’s a girl.”

  “It’s definitely a boy.”

  Haley’s brows shoot up. “Don’t tell me you’ll be disappointed if it’s a girl.”

  I kneel and press my mouth to her navel. “Never.” I peer up at her. “But girls take more protecting.”

  She shoves at my shoulder, and I get hit in the face with water. “Bullshit. That’s sexist. Women are as independent as guys.”

  “That’s even worse. Independent women? Yeah, guys fall hard for independent women.”

  She rolls her eyes.

  “The future is bright, Hales. And it’s all you and me.”

  Annie

  Night of the wedding

  * * *

  “What are you doing here?”

  My head snaps up at the voice emerging from the darkness, carrying over the music from the tent across the lawn. Once I recognize the silhouette approaching the gazebo, my shoulders unknot.

  “Everyone’s back there getting drunk,” Tyler continues, taking the steps one at a time.

  I lift my chin. “Most guys I know would’ve snuck off with a bottle of champagne and a bridesmaid by now.”

  The fairy lights tucked into the rafters of the gazebo cast the strong planes of my friend’s nose and cheeks in a warm glow, the hazel eyes I know as well as my own receding into shadow. His shoulders appear broader than normal in the suit, his hair tame compared to its usual wild mess.

  “Maybe that’s my plan.” Tyler grins at me.

  I roll my eyes, nodding to his empty hands. “You forgot the champagne, genius.”

  “Have you tried champagne? It’s disgusting. I had to give it to Mace to finish because apparently it’s two thousand dollars a bottle and I refused to let them throw it out.”

  Strains of music drift from the tent, an entire glowing world lit from the inside. Today was warm, but the breeze plays with the hairs on the back of my neck under my pinned-up hair.

  I’ve never been in a wedding before, and between the dress and the hair, I kind of feel like a fairy princess.

  Tyler could pass for a prince. He leans against the pillar, hands in the pockets of the suit that should be awkward on the boy I’ve seen win a hot dog eating contest.

  Instead, he looks elegant.

  The moment I spotted him after I finished dressing myself, staring in the mirror while a stylist braided my hair and applied more makeup than I usually wore, my chest seemed to tighten. But it was only the first surprise today, not the last.

  I lift the hem of my gauzy dress and step into one of the dark squares at the edge of the chess board.

  “White queen.” I look up, and Tyler nods at my feet. “That’s the starting position for the white queen.”

  “Or the black king.”

  “No.”

  “You don’t think I could be a king?” I challenge him, jutting my jaw.

  “Chess mimics life. The king hides in his castle. The queen goes everywhere. Does everything. She’s the one who’s powerful.”

  His casual observation might have startled the average person, but that’s Tyler. He notices things others don’t. The wheels behind his hazel eyes never stop turning.

  “I saw you cry when Jax and Haley exchanged vows,” he says, and I cock my head. “Most girls try to hide their emotions or put on what they think others expect.”

  I close my eyes as the music changes to a waltz. “Whoever decided tears make us weak doesn’t cry enough.”

  “Spoken like someone who’s strong to begin with.”

  I step forward one square. My skirt whispers against the wood, grazing the boundaries between light and dark.

  I think of the woman in the catering tent with urgent eyes and skin and hair like mine who tugged me aside when I went to investigate the desserts in between speeches. The letter she pressed into my hand before I could think to stop her. The one that’s now tucked into my dress.

  When I look up, Tyler’s prowling the opposite row of squares.

  “We must be rivals, then,” I tell him.

  “Impossible.” He cocks his head. “We’ll never be on opposite sides, you and me.”

  I close my eyes, fall into the banter that’s always been as easy as breathing with him. “Because I know all your secrets?”

  I start to take another step forward but hit a hard wall. My breath catches as I blink, tilting my chin up as I’m confronted with his handsome face.

  Somehow, he’s crossed the floor without making a sound.

  “Not all of them.”

  As his dark eyes warm on mine, I rea
lize that if I stretched onto my toes, I could smell his shampoo.

  I wonder if he can smell mine.

  It’s a weird thought but makes perfect sense given that for all the time we’ve spent together, I can count on one hand the number of times we’ve been this close.

  I’ve tried to place exactly what attracted me to him two years ago and decided it was our shared love of music.

  But that answer satisfied me.

  I think it’s something bigger. Some part of us that doesn’t quite fit with the world. A lock to some dark box inside us both that no key can open.

  “What are you thinking?” he asks.

  “That I don’t like secrets.” I take one step back.

  He follows me, and I suck in a startled breath as his feet move soundlessly in step with mine. “Answers aren’t what they’re cracked up to be. Sometimes the truth has teeth.”

  “It’s always better to know.” I take in his profile, edged by the soft fairy lights draped around the gazebo.

  “Fine. You want the truth?”

  The solemn expression on his face almost fools me into believing he has the truth. My truth, the one that lies somewhere between the letter in my dress and the man I’ve called my father for years.

  I nod.

  “The truth is that cake wasn’t nearly as good as your Rice Krispies squares, grape smoke be damned.”

  “It was lavender chiffon,” I retort, and he grins.

  The smile transforms his face, the seriousness falling away in favor a boyish charm that’s even more irresistible.

  Still, it’s the way my heart kicks in my chest in response that’s most unnerving.

  I remember my dad’s mistake this week, thinking Tyler and I were having sex.

  It’s ridiculous.

  Not the idea that I could be sleeping with someone, because I know lots of girls who are.

  But that me and Tyler…

  I swallow.

  It’s not like the guy’s hard on the eyes. But in two years, Tyler and I haven’t so much as kissed.

  Not only has he never flirted with me, he’s never checked me out. Not when we’re trying to one-up each other with the latest bands or on the mission he insisted on accompanying me on to find the best veggie burger in Philly last summer. Not when we take turns doing impressions of Kyle on the drums at Big Leap or when we complain about the preppy kids at our school.