A Little Bit Wicked - Melissa Foster Page 0,149

cake smile to shame. And when he’d brought Sampson in and told her about adopting him and Shadow, she’d stepped up her elation once again. But nothing—nothing—could top the look of overwhelming love and happiness in her eyes when he’d asked her to marry him. He knew he’d remember every look she’d ever given him, but that one was wrapped up for safekeeping and tucked away next to his heart.

“I take full credit for this engagement.” Gavin nudged Justin and said, “Right, dude? I made marriage look good, didn’t I.”

“You sure did.” Gavin and Harper’s love was admirable. But it was Preacher and Reba, and Conroy and Ginger, who deserved the credit for Justin’s ability to love and be loved and for his desire to nurture a relationship that could not only survive the worst of times, but one in which he and Chloe would continually help each other become the best people they could be. And it was Mike’s sharing of his story and how much he’d overcome with the woman he adored that had underscored the importance of being a good man above all else, because after that, everything else had fallen into line.

Justin looked at Preacher and Mike and said, “These guys deserve a little credit, too.”

“Hear, hear,” Blaine cheered, lifting his beer.

Mike eyed Tank and Blaine and said, “One Wicked man down. Who’s next?”

“Next?” Blaine looked at Tank, who shrugged.

Preacher put a hand on Blaine’s shoulder and said, “If your Whiskey cousins are any indication, once one good man falls, the rest follow like dominoes.”

“Sorry, Preach. I’m not into dominoes.” Blaine looked across the way at Marly and said, “But I’d like to get into a certain exotic brunette. I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

As Blaine walked away, Mike said, “How about you, Tank? You’re getting a little long in the tooth.”

Tank scoffed. “Don’t hold your breath on my account, old man. All that white-picket-fence shit isn’t in the cards for me.”

“Maybe if you’d stop scaring the ladies away,” Justin teased.

Tank’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know what’s up with that waitress at the Hog, but the only thing chicks are afraid of is the size of my dick.”

They all laughed.

Mike smirked. “He gets that from his grandpa.”

“On that note, when are you boys going to start using those appendages for making grandchildren?” Preacher looked at Tank and Justin expectantly. “You too, Gavin.”

“Don’t look at me, Preach. We don’t even have a wedding date yet,” Justin reminded them.

“Man, my parents are asking us the same thing,” Gavin said. “Nothing like a little pressure.”

Mike motioned in the direction of Chloe and Reba and said, “Maverick, I bet your mama’s already lodging her vote for procreation with Chloe.”

“I’d better go nix that. We need time to be a couple before we’re parents,” Justin said.

“I’ll sidetrack them,” Mike offered. “I’m heading over to grab another cookie anyway.”

Preacher touched Mike’s arm and said, “Pops, you’ve had a lot of sugar tonight.”

“These next six weeks can’t pass fast enough,” Mike grumbled. His application had been approved at LOCAL, and he was moving in the week before the suicide-awareness rally. He looked at Justin and said, “Your girl is a godsend for getting me into that facility. Think I can pay extra to get the deal expedited?”

Justin shook his head. “Doubt it, Gramps.”

“Worth a try,” Mike mumbled; then he headed for the dessert table.

“I’ll get him,” Justin said.

“Nah. You get your girl.” Tank clapped a hand on Justin’s back and said, “This is your night. I’ll get Gramps.”

“I think I’ll go lock lips with my wife.” Gavin headed up the beach with Tank, leaving Preacher and Justin alone.

“Preach, want to take a walk with me to go see our beautiful ladies?”

“You betcha.” Preacher put an arm over Justin’s shoulders and said, “I’m proud of you, son.”

“I still remember the first time you said that to me, my first night at your place. It was after Madigan had fallen asleep on my shoulder.”

Preacher’s lips curved up and he said, “You hadn’t moved an inch for almost two hours.”

“I know. My arm went numb.” When Madigan had woken up, she’d run off to play, and Justin had pushed to his feet and shaken out his arm, wincing as pins and needles prickled his limb. Preacher had moved his arm this way and that until the feeling came back, and as he was moving it around, he’d told Justin he was proud of him for putting Madigan’s well-being above his own. It was the first

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