2. Tammy

CHAPTER 2

TAMMY

Nova is being extra fussy tonight. I rock her back and forth, humming her a tune as I try to get my overactive toddler to sleep. She’s eighteen months old now, and from the second she was born, I could tell she was the complete opposite of Kai. He was always so quiet and cuddly. He took his time to study people and decide if they were worthy of a smile. He’d watch and observe before acting. My little Supernova, on the other hand, is a ball of energy. She started smiling at only four weeks, which apparently is very young. She’ll babble at anyone she meets, and she didn’t learn to walk, she learned to run . From the second she wakes until the moment she crashes, she’s on the go, and it’s exhausting… and entertaining. She has definitely filled our house with sunshine. And fireworks. And rainstorms. And tornados.

“Come on, baby. It’s okay,” I murmur against her cheek. “Let yourself go and fall asleep.”

She whimpers and rubs her nose across my shirt. I cradle the back of her head and finish humming “Blackbird” by the Beatles. I don’t know why I picked that song and made it ours, but it just came to me one night, and it’s stuck. Beyonce did a beautiful version of the song, and it’s become a favorite of mine.

By the time I get to the end, Nova has gone limp in my arms.

Finally!

I don’t usually rock her to sleep, but on those days when she’s been hyper, she gets herself into this vortex of overactivity, and it makes it so hard for her to fall asleep. I creep to her crib and lay her down, lightly stroking her head before covering her with blankets and making sure Mr. Pickles is within easy reach.

I leave the door ajar in case she wakes in the night, then check on Kai, who’s starfishing in his bed, his limbs looking long and gangly. Puberty is only a year or so away for the little guy, but I can already see his body getting longer. He’s stretching out like a piece of gum, and I swear he’s going to be taller than me by the time he’s a teenager. Watching him grow and develop warms my heart to no end. He’s the sweetest boy and the most patient big brother. Nova adores him, and he’ll chase her around, trying to protect her from her wild antics all the livelong day. School is a nice reprieve for him, and he’s made a best friend—Tommy—who is the sweetest kid. I’m just so happy for my boy that he’s got a little buddy.

Just like I had with Baxter.

I grin, walking to the master bedroom and thinking how my little buddy became so much more. From the way Kai blushed at the girls at the fall dance this year, I don’t think Tommy and Kai’s relationship is going to shift the way Baxter’s and mine did.

My smile grows a little wider as I walk into my room and spot Baxter on our bed. He’s shirtless, and I admire his hard ridges. His handyman business keeps him strong and toned. He’s seriously the sexiest man on the planet, and when he sits on our bed, writing in his journal with that intent look on his face, my heart falls a little more in love with him.

I wonder what he’s writing but try not to ask too often. It’s his personal space to get out his thoughts and feelings. He lets me read it when I ask, but I try to respect his privacy.

Squirting some hand cream into my palm, I rub the moisturizer into my skin and watch my man. He really is the most beautiful sight—his long legs stretched out on the bed, those beautiful bare feet, those solid muscles I want to run my hands over. And his face, so sweet and kind and?—

“What?” He doesn’t look up from his journal, and I grin, loving the way he can sense my perusal.

“I want you to be my husband.”

He glances up and starts to laugh. “Not sure that’s ever gonna happen, TT.”

“But it must.” I slip off his big hoodie, letting it drop to the floor before I crawl across the bed and kneel beside him. “I want to make you mine.”

“I am yours.” He lays his journal aside, cinching me around the waist and lifting me onto his lap. I straddle his legs, loving the way his fingers draw lines up my thighs, creeping beneath his extra-large T-shirt and settling around my curvy ass. I’m not toned and sculpted like him. My curves are soft and squishy, but he always makes me feel so sexy.

His eyes gleam with a heat that makes my body tremble, but I try to stay on point and finish our conversation.

Cupping his face, I brush my thumb across his perfect lips and smile. “I want to make it official.”

“Okay.” He tips his head back to think. “So, we got engaged three years ago and have planned the wedding twice…”

I wince. “Third time’s the charm?”

“You sure you want to try again?” His face crumples to match mine. “We could just go to the courthouse.”

“No.” I shake my head, stubbornly adamant about this. “I want a proper wedding. We had so many great ideas, and I want them to happen. Nova’s old enough now.” He gives me a skeptical frown, and I can’t help giggling. “There will be plenty of people there to keep an eye on her. Plenty of hands to grab her before she can destroy anything.”

He laughs along with me and shakes his head, an adoring smile creeping over his face. She is most definitely a daddy’s girl. Their bond is adorable. The way he is with her makes my heart melt every time; it’s basically become a permanent blob of putty in my chest.

I need this man to be my husband. I mean, he basically is, but there’s just something about making it all official that appeals to me so damn much. I want to be able to refer to him as my husband.

“We have to make this happen.” I kiss his lips, then spring back, trying to sell this some more. “The chances of you getting the flu again the day before our wedding have got to be slim to none, right? I mean, that would just be a freak of nature.”

He smiles up at me, giving my butt a little squeeze. “You’ll be able to fit into your dress again now.”

“Yes, I will.” I resist the urge to tell him it’ll be a tight squeeze, but I will be fitting into my wedding dress, dammit. And Baxter’s flu and my puke-filled pregnancy are not going to stop us this time. “It’s not like we’re starting from scratch. Let’s just do it.”

“When?”

“This summer, the way we originally planned. My coursework will be done for the year, and I’ve been saving up my vacation time at the center. I’ll take a few weeks off so we can honeymoon right after.”

His eyes glow at the mention of a honeymoon. I’m sure between our parents we could easily find care for the kids, so Baxter and I could get some alone time.

“Plus, my summer wedding dress will be perfect for the event.” I think about that stunning dress, specially designed for me, and feel a trill of excitement.

Baxter grabs his phone and checks the calendar app. “That’s seven months away.”

“I know, plenty of time to book and plan.”

“We won’t be able to get the same venue.”

“That’s okay. We’ll find something else. There’s bound to be something around.” I give him a hopeful smile. “I swear, nothing can stop it this time.” My eyes start to glint as I lean against him, our lips less than an inch apart. “I am going to will this wedding into existence. I am going to make you my husband, Baxter Brown.”

He presses his smile against mine, his tongue darting into my mouth and swiping mine before he pulls back and whispers, “I’m going to make it happen for you, TT. I promise.”

And I know he means it.

Yes! We’re getting married!

After all this time and all these setbacks, it’s finally going to happen.

“I love you,” I murmur, not even giving him a chance to reply before kissing his lips, his chin, his neck, and licking my way down his perfect torso.

He groans, rasping, “Are the kids asleep?”

“Uh-huh.” I curl my fingers into the waistband of his boxers, and he helps me yank them off. His cock—so hard and eager for me—springs out to greet me, and I smile, licking the tip as he grips my shirt and starts to pull it off.

We play a game of Tammy Says. It’s my favorite game in the world—a special one for just me and my best friend.

“Tammy says… let me suck this gorgeous cock.”

Baxter cups the back of my head as I go down on him, heating us both up for what comes next. I work him until he’s groaning, his legs squirming, on the cusp of an orgasm, before pulling away. I don’t want it to be over yet. Sitting up, I crawl back toward him. I’m usually full of way more instructions than this, ordering him around on this bed, but tonight, all I can rasp is “Tammy says… make love to your future wife.”

He grins as I perch myself over his tip, my wet folds weeping with anticipation. Grabbing my hips, he pulls me down onto him, and I let out a soft cry as he fills me all the way to my soul.

He’s the best thing that ever happened to me.

I want to tell him that, but words are impossible right now. Gazing into his gorgeous eyes, I try to tell him as we ride this erotic train together—our breaths mingling, our hands gliding, our fingers pinching, our chests heaving until he’s making me come with whimpers and groans and following right after, crying my name while squeezing my ass and pumping into me. I sink onto him, grinding my hips until I’ve taken as much of him as I can handle, cherishing this blissful moment.

He wraps his arms around me, kissing my shoulder while he catches his breath. I close my eyes, resting my chin against his neck and whispering over and over, “I love you, Baxter Brown. And I can’t wait to be your wife.”