at it. “It’s beautiful.”
“Come,” he says, winding his arm through mine. “There’s a party at Mom’s house.”
I freeze. “But I’m wearing shorts!”
“I’ll be the only one wearing a tux at the party, I promise.” A full-body shiver runs through me as he bends his neck, whispering in my ear. “You better take your fill of me tonight, because I don’t wear these often.”
“I told you I liked you better in your mechanic costume.”
“Costume? That’s a work uniform.” He slides his hand around my waist. “Not some sex costume.”
Gage teases me about it the whole way to his mother’s house, where I can see bodies shifting in the windows. Wow, looks like a lot of people.
“How many did you invite?”
He lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “A few people.”
The second we reach the door, it swings open. Revealing an enthusiastic Jennifer and dozens of people. Gage tugs me to his side, and everyone claps. Oh my God. Everyone in town is here, even Pierce. There’s a balloon attached to his wheelchair. And he's smiling at me. At the top, there’s a bright yellow banner: WELCOME, OLIVIA!
“We wanted to welcome you to our town,” Gage murmurs in my ear before kissing me.
The crowd awws as I break into happy tears, my cheeks burning as Gage strokes my hair. He turns my face toward his, ear-splitting whistles bursting through the crowd when we kiss.
Seventeen
Olivia
My fingers scurry across the keyboard, my wrist sticking to the aluminum as I write. Words spill onto a blank white screen, my senses fully invested in the pages. Descriptions of a bustling medieval town pour out of me, the words coming to me effortlessly as though they’d been waiting all along.
A distant gurgle pulls me out of the story, into the crib where my son sleeps. Luke. What a marvel he is. The days after he was born, I couldn’t stop staring at his fingers and toes. The tiny little digits—all of them perfect. Luke’s head is covered in wavy dark hair, the deep chestnut-brown of his father’s. If there was any doubt he was Gage’s son, the bright blue eyes erased it completely. He’s a miniature Gage. Perfect.
I stick my hand into Luke’s crib and my baby wraps his hand around my finger. I tickle his sides, and then turn back to the laptop. A slow wail lifts from the crib, and Luke shakes his little fists.
“Oh, baby. Don’t cry.” I pick him up, marveling at how much he loves to be held. Sometimes I strap him to my chest and write.
Heavy footsteps approach the nursery. “Do you want me to hold him?”
Gage stands at the doorway, his hair still wet and his torso gleaming from the shower. There’s a towel wrapped around his waist. A tug of desire nags at me as I stare at his landscape of muscles.
“Give me him. You’ve got to write.”
“Only if you stay here.”
He tips my head back with a single push of his index finger, his breath heating my lips. I lean forward to kiss him, my heart pounding with desire.
“You need your eye candy for those steamy scenes, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I admit, handing Luke over to him.
Gage melts the moment Luke is tucked in his arms. He settles into the rocking chair, happily cradling his son against his bare chest. It gets me worked up sometimes to see him so protective over our baby. At the grocery store, he slapped away a stranger’s hand that tried to touch Luke’s cheek. He’s constantly singing to Luke, jumping to change his diaper, basically being the most attentive father in the world.
My writing gets more feverish, the words sprawling over the page. I stretch my fingers over the black keyboard, stopping for inspiration. I gaze at my wedding band, rolling my hand to make it wink in the light. I couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful marriage, even if it was only a formality. I return to the screen, writing until I’m so tightly wound that I have to set the laptop aside. All I can think about is my shirtless husband, his skin still damp from the shower.
“Is he sleeping?”
Gage glances at me, smirking. “Yeah. Are you hot and bothered after writing one of your dirty scenes?”
Yes.
Six months ago, I finished my first novel and went shopping for an agent. Most said no, until I contacted an imprint from a small publisher. The book was a success, and I’m signed for three more books.
“My fans thought there wasn’t enough sex in