It seemed that, while he did still have his tendency to make peace whenever possible, his protective nature had increased the moment he’d found out he was going to be a father, so much so that he’d told his mother in no uncertain terms that he and Kendra would raise their children the way they saw fit.
I’d told Kendra that I’d wished she taken pictures of the expression on Claire’s face. She’d agreed that it would have been nice to have a memento.
Flynn and I's time away from the family had done us both a lot of good. We hadn’t even gone back to the city for the holidays, choosing instead to visit my family in Tennessee. Claire had been livid, even more so when Cody had decided to come down to see us for Thanksgiving instead of staying in New York. I was hoping that she’d calmed a bit since then, or at least that the new baby would distract her.
I wasn’t anxious though. Claire was still Claire, but I was different than before. I was more me. I liked who I was with Flynn. Paul had been right. We made each other better.
Flynn had done a whole series of photographs that focused on just that. He took people and let them find themselves in front of his camera. It had taken him almost a full year to put it together, but once he’d shown the work, the response had been overwhelming. We’d started touring the country in February, going to a new gallery every week. New York was the swan song...of our US tour. He’d gotten the call two days ago from his agent that London wanted him, and there was a good chance Venice and Paris would too.
I’d sold my screenplay at the first of the year and was waiting for the production company to finish casting. They were hoping to start filming in a couple weeks. While I was overjoyed at getting to see my work on screen, the connections I’d made over the last eighteen months were just as exciting. I had three major writers in LA and two in New York who’d told me to contact them when I was ready to start working on the small screen.
The past year and a half almost felt like a dream and I knew that coming back to New York would be like waking up. Especially since this would be the first time anyone in either of Flynn or I's families had seen his show. I was pretty sure I was more nervous than he was. I was just glad my family was waiting until tomorrow to fly up. I wasn’t sure how much my nerves could take.
“Tennessee, we’re here.” Flynn’s voice in my ear drew me out of my thoughts. “You ready for this?”
I looked up at him, my heart swelling at the love in his eyes. I hadn’t thought it was possible to love him more than I had when I’d finally confessed my feelings, but every day, I loved him more, and I knew he felt the same way.
“With you at my side, I’m ready for anything.” I kissed his cheek. “Now, let’s go see that nephew of yours.”
Kendra had gone into labor late last night and had forbidden anyone from calling us until late this morning since we’d just gotten in the day before. She’d also apologized for not being able to make the show that night. Leave it to her to feel bad for missing an art show because she’d just shoved a nine and a half pound human being out of her body.
“Gabs!”
I was completely engulfed in one of Cody’s massive hugs before I even saw him coming. It had taken his arm nearly a year to regain full use and he still occasionally got headaches, but he’d otherwise recovered from the accident. And better than that...
“So, where is he?” I asked as Cody turned from me to Flynn.
Cody grinned and stretched out a hand behind him. “Gabs, Flynn, I’d like you to meet Mason.”
He was smaller than Cody, but was still over six feet tall and solidly built. High cheekbones, dusky skin, black curls and near-black eyes, he could’ve been one of Bouvier’s models. He wasn’t one though. He’d been Cody’s physical therapist until they’d realized that they’d rather be more than that, and Cody had switched to a cranky Russian therapist for the last few months.
They’d gone official when Cody had brought Mason to the Bouvier family Christmas party and kissed Mason under the mistletoe in front of all of the high-society elite. Yet another time I’d wished someone had taken a picture of Claire’s face for me.
“Flynn.”
He stiffened next to me and I squeezed his hand as we turned to face Claire. Albert stood behind her, as always, but he did manage a half-smile for both Flynn and I.
“Mother.” He gave her a terse nod.
“We’ll see you at the show.” She looked over at me. “Gabriella.”
Her tone wasn’t warm, but when she walked by without insulting me, I counted it as a win. I wasn’t interested in Claire though. I just wanted to see my friends. Without another word to Flynn’s parents, we went into the room first, and I instantly forgot about the family issues.
All I could think about was how in the world Kendra Facet-Bouvier had gone through six and a half hours of labor just four hours ago and still looked like she should be featured on a billboard.
“Gabs.” She beamed at me and then returned her attention to the bundle in her arms.
“Edward.” Flynn walked around to the opposite side of the bed and shocked everyone by giving his brother a hug.
“Los Angeles agrees with you,” Edward said as Flynn stepped back. He looked over at me and smiled. “And you.”
It was a nice smile. The kind of smile a man gave a friend. A family member. I liked that smile.
“And fatherhood agrees with you,” I said. It did too. He looked more relaxed than I’d ever seen him. When he leaned over Kendra to kiss her forehead, his face shone with love and I couldn’t help but smile.
“Do you want to hold him?” Kendra asked Flynn.
I wasn’t sure who was more surprised, Edward or me, when Flynn held out his arms. I’d seen how amazing Flynn was with kids, but the foster kids he’d photographed both here and in LA had all been older. I’d never seen him holding a baby, but as he straightened, my heart clenched. It just looked right. We hadn’t really talked about kids.
“Mom wanted us to name him after my dad,” Edward said. “Or after myself.”
Flynn and I both looked at him. Kendra and Edward had been so secretive about the name that no one knew what it was going to be. I didn’t blame them. I had no doubt Claire would’ve argued about whatever name they chose that wasn’t what she wanted.
“We agreed that we wanted to name him after his godparents,” Kendra said. She reached over and took Edward’s hand, then smiled up at me. “Gabriel Flynn.”
“You named your son...” My voice trailed off.
“If it hadn’t been for the two of you, Edward and I never would’ve found each other.” Kendra’s free hand slipped into mine.
“Gabriel Flynn Bouvier,” Flynn said slowly. He had a strange expression on his face. “I never thought I’d hear that last name with mine.”
I’d never thought about it before, Flynn having a different last name. Half-siblings, step-siblings, having different last names than parents or brothers wasn’t that strange. In Flynn’s case, however, the fact that his mother didn’t share his last name had been her choice. She’d kept the Bouvier name even after she’d married Albert McCreary and she’s made it perfectly clear why. It didn’t matter who she’d married. She was a Bouvier. Flynn was not.
I let go of Kendra’s hand and crossed over to where Flynn stood. I looked down at the baby as I slid my arm around his waist. Like pretty much all newborns, his face was red and scrunched up. A fine layer of golden curls covered his head and I assumed his eyes would be blue like most babies. Between siblings, nieces and nephews, I’d seen a lot, but I’d never been a godmother to any of them.
“You’ll do it, right?” Kendra asked.
I looked up. I’d almost forgotten she and Edward were in the room.
“You’ll be his godparents?”
“Of course.” I tightened my fingers on Flynn’s side briefly, then went back to Kendra for a hug.
“Can we come in too?” Cody’s voice came from the doorway. “I think the Nazi nurse left for the day.”
&nb
sp; Laughing, Edward motioned for the pair to join us. As Cody engulfed his brother in a hug, this, I thought, was what family was supposed to be.
***
“May I speak with you for a moment?” Edward’s voice was low in my ear.
Startled, I looked up at him, but his expression was blank. “Is something wrong with Kendra or Gabriel?”
He shook his head and gestured for me to follow him. I glanced over to where Flynn was discussing one of his photographs with a silver-haired man I dimly recognized as being one of Claire’s acquaintances. He caught my eye and nodded as I smiled.
As I walked after Edward, my stomach tightened. I knew which photographs were in this part of the gallery. When he stopped in front of one particularly evocative one, my heart thumped painfully in my chest.
His back was to me, but he must’ve known I was there because he started talking, his voice quiet enough that no one else could hear him.
“This was one of the pictures he threatened to show me, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” I stepped up next to him and looked at the photograph. It wasn’t the exact same one that had hung in his bedroom, but it was close. My face was hidden, but my body was bare...except for the paint. It was only one of several of my shots from that day that were now part of Flynn’s show, but it was the most revealing. None of them showed my face, so no one in any of the galleries we’d been to had recognized me as the model, but it still made me flush when I saw someone looking. I hadn’t even considered that Edward would guess it was me.
“Does Kendra know?” he asked.
“She knows,” I said.
“Good.” He gave me a sideways glance, his eyes sparkling with humor. “It would’ve been awkward to explain to my wife how I was able to recognize the faceless model who posed for my brother nude.”
I laughed, the tension in my chest easing. A moment of silence fell, and I broke it when I asked the question that had been at the back of my mind for almost two years.
“What would you have done?”
Edward turned towards me. “You mean if Flynn had showed me these?”
I nodded.
He glanced at the photo, a thoughtful look on his face. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “He took them before we’d met, but it would’ve bothered me.” He looked back at me. “But I don’t think it would’ve been for the reasons you might think. It would’ve bothered me because I’d have seen how alive Flynn made you and I would’ve wondered why you didn’t look that way with me.”
After a moment, he reached out and gave my arm a brotherly squeeze before walking away. I stayed where I was, studying the photograph. I hadn’t modeled for Flynn since we’d left New York and a part of me missed it. I was happy with who I was as a person, but there was still something freeing about posing for him that spoke to a place deep inside me.
“She’s one of my favorite models.”
I smiled as Flynn’s arms slid around my waist. I loved that he didn’t feel the need to put on a cool, collected front for anyone. There were none of those chaste kisses to the top of my head or anything like that. If he wanted to hold my hand, he did. If he felt like standing behind me, holding me, he did.
“Is she?” I asked as I leaned back against his firm chest.
“Mmhm.” He bent his head so that his lips were against my ear. “But she doesn’t pose for me anymore.”
“Really?” I shivered as his hot breath brushed against my skin.
“But I’m hoping I can convince her to do another series,” he continued.
“More nudity and paint?” I asked. Things low inside me clenched at the memory of that day.
“No.” His hand twisted and something between his fingers sparkled. “I’m thinking maybe this...and nothing else.”
My breath caught in my throat. It was nothing like the giant emerald and diamond ring Edward had given me. This one was simple...and perfect. A white gold or platinum band with three diamonds, the largest in the center. Not too flashy, but definitely not cheap either.
“Flynn...” I could barely manage his name.
“I wanted you from the moment you flipped me off.” His arm tightened around my waist. “And even though I couldn’t admit it to myself at the time, I fell in love with you when I took those pictures. Fell in love with how you were determined not to let me get the best of you. The way you challenged me. The light in your eyes...”
I turned in his arms so that I was facing him. I’d wore high enough heels that I barely had to tilt my head back to look at him.
“I’ve never loved anyone else.” His eyes were practically glowing. “And I never want to. Will you marry me?”
“That depends,” I said, a mischievous smile dancing on my lips. “Do I have to let your mother help plan the wedding?”
He laughed and shook his head. “No. Whenever, wherever, you want. As long as you’re mine.”
I slid my arms around his neck and brushed my lips against his. “I’m yours,” I whispered. “Now and forever.”
He kissed me then, a hard, bruising kiss full of promise for the night ahead. My body thrummed with desire and I could feel the same radiating off of him. If we’d been alone, there would have been no way either of us would have still been clothed after a kiss like that.
I reluctantly pulled back and then held up my hand. “Let’s see what that looks like on.”
He smiled and slid the ring onto my finger. I felt like Cinderella as it settled into place. The fit was perfect and it looked natural there, as if I’d always worn it. He rubbed his thumb across it, then raised my hand to press his lips against the band.
“How does September sound?” I asked.
“September?”
“September in Tennessee,” I said. “Family and close friends only.”
“It sounds perfect.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me tight against him. “I was thinking of starting work on a new project and this fall would be a great time to start it.”
“A new project?” I raised an eyebrow. “I thought you wanted me to pose for you again.”
“I do.” His gaze was heated. “And I plan on that being the prequel to the main event.”
“And what would that be?” I asked, my body responding to his. I suddenly wanted this show to be over.
He grinned at me; that same cocky grin that had always gotten me. “I’m calling it ‘Giving Gabriel a Cousin’.”
I pressed my thighs together, suddenly wet. “Oh, really?”
He nodded. “It’s going to be a lot of hard work, but I’m willing to put in the hours.”
“Hours?” I said, raising my eyebrow. “A little sure of yourself, are you?”
“Tennessee, you know there’s nothing little about me.” He winked at me.
I made a frustrated sound.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
I frowned. “We still have two hours left before everyone leaves.”
He released me and reached down to thread his fingers between mine. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?” I asked as we started to walk towards the back of the building.
“We’re going to find a nice, quiet spot where I can give you a preview of what’s going to happen when we get back to the hotel.”
Fuck.
I wanted him, but I still protested. “But what about all of the people here to see you? What about your family?”
He stopped suddenly and cupped my chin. His eyes were dark. “They can wait.” His voice was low, rough. “I need you, Tennessee. Now.”
“I need you too.”
And it was true. We needed each other. We’d taken a round-about way to get here and things had happened that I regretted, but if that had been the only way for me to be here, now, with him, I would’ve done it all over again. He was mine and I was his.
Now and forever.
– The End –
Coming next from Cassie Wild & M. S. Parker: Craving HIM, the follow-up to the best-selling series, Serving
HIM. Craving HIM is a 300 page stand-alone novel to be released August 18th. Click here to get an email as soon as it’s available.
All series from M. S. Parker
Casual Encounter Box Set
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Club Prive Vol. 1 to 5
French Connection (Club Prive) Vol. 1 to 3
Chasing Perfection Vol. 1 to 4
Pleasures Series
Exotic Desires Series
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Acknowledgement
First, we would like to thank all of our readers. Without you, our books would not exist. We truly appreciate each and every one of you.
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About The Authors
MS Parker
M. S. Parker is a USA Today Bestselling author and the author of the Erotic Romance series, Club Privè and Chasing Perfection.
Living in Southern California, she enjoys sitting by the pool with her laptop writing on her next spicy romance.
Growing up all she wanted to be was a dancer, actor or author. So far only the latter has come true but M. S. Parker hasn’t retired her dancing shoes just yet. She is still waiting for the call for her to appear on Dancing With The Stars.
When M. S. isn't writing, she can usually be found reading– oops, scratch that! She is always writing.