Deeper Water_Once and Forever 3

  "Got it. Looks great. I'll inform my brother." Shit, I’d forgotten to take the video I'd promised Hayden I would shoot. I checked the clock on my phone and saw a message from Lane:

  ‘Where are you??? We leave in thirty minutes!’

  Oh shit. "I gotta go, Sean. Like, ten minutes ago. But I need you to take a quick video tour of the place and email it to me so I can show Hayden when I see him."

  "If you'd told me earlier, I could've taught you how to use the house monitoring app."

  "Sean, the last thing I want on my phone is a way to see what’s happening in my brother's bedroom." Thankfully Andi was a computer genius. She would set up additional, unhackable security as soon as the surprise was unveiled to her. "Just a short video of the place will do. Thanks." I ran for the door, wondering if I would be able to get out of here without the remote. "And, Sean? Seriously, you do awesome work, man. It's amazing."

  Huh. Guess I was wrong. He did know how to smile. Then he looked down at the remote, pressed a button, and the front door opened all by itself.

  "I bow to your skills, man."

  As I sped home, I thought about how lucky my brother was. Or maybe it wasn't luck. That asshat had worked his hat off to get what he had, and every day since, he put in the effort to keep it. Finding a woman who'd taught him it was okay to want things he’d never dreamed he’d have was his due for putting up with everybody else’s family shit for so long.

  I adored Andi. She accepted my brother as he was and, just by being herself, had made him even better. No two people were more deserving. And this surprise he'd planned for her—turning the home she already loved into something they'd love even more—couldn't have been a more perfect symbol of their relationship.

  Fuck. Was that what I should do for Lane? Give her the proposal, wedding, and future that symbolized our relationship? Not sure if that made me more or less nervous.

  What we had was perfect most of the time because it was easy, intense, and full of laughs. Actually, I could use the same description for our sex life.

  Nah, proposing during sex was probably a big no-no. And, sadly, she'd never go for having sex during our wedding. At least our future would be filled with a lot of it.

  A future that was easy, intense, full of laughs, and almost as much sex. Yep, that sounded perfect.

  8

  Laney

  I laid my light green bridesmaid dress down on the bed next to Carson’s best man outfit. I planned to pack them at the very last minute. I didn’t think they’d wrinkle in a garment bag, but I wasn’t sure. Ironing wasn’t a skill in my tool box, so to speak. So not putting them into something where they’d be bunched up until it was absolutely necessary seemed like a reasonable thing to do.

  “Cutting it a little close there, aren’t you?” I said as Carson threw the door open and ran straight into the bedroom to get ready. Because he had exactly nothing packed, despite my frequent reminders over the past two weeks.

  “Plenty of time.” He grabbed the suitcase I’d put out for him eons ago and headed into the walk-in closet.

  “Yeah, like five extra minutes.”

  He flinched and spun around when he realized I’d followed him. I wish I knew why he’d been so distracted or anxious lately.

  That’s when I saw the white plastic bag he was shoving into his suitcase. When did he have time to go shopping?

  “Yep, plenty of time.” He reached out to grab my hand and pull me into him, sliding his hand onto my ass and squeezing. “Thanks for this morning, by the way. I needed that.”

  “Me too.”

  It’s funny how sex can bring people closer. Not that I missed the literal meaning of the idea, but the emotional component still came as a surprise to me, even after the countless times Carson and I had done it. But being with someone I truly loved and was 110 percent sure loved me just as much was still kind of new to me. Having a guy on top of you, or inside you, didn't automatically provide that experience. But with Carson, I knew he wasn’t holding anything back. Every movement he made, every word he groaned, gave him away.

  This morning wasn’t just sex for either of us. It was a moment of shared vulnerability, openness, and acceptance I’d never had with anyone before him. And since I knew he’d never had it before, it was as if we were both experiencing the same thing, feeling the same emotional component.

  Actually he probably wasn’t thinking anything in the moment. If he were, it had probably been something like, “Ahhh…oooh…goooood.”

  “I’m coming,” I whispered.

  “Huh?”

  Shit. I’d said that last part out loud. I shook my head. “I mean the car we ordered is coming. Soon. It’s coming soon.” Meh cover. Thankfully, he didn’t question it.

  I raised onto my tiptoes and kissed him, planning it to be quick so he could finish packing. But Carson lived in the moment. And at this moment, he wasn’t thinking about what to pack or how long it would take us to get through airport security. He matched my quick kiss and raised me a scorching connection of tongues and heat until I’d forgotten everything else too.

  “Knock it off!” I pushed away from him. “We don’t have time for any of that, mister.”

  “Fine,” he grumbled. “I can wait until after the captain has turned off the fasten seatbelt sign.”

  * * *

  While I threw together a quick breakfast for us, Carson shoved stuff into a bag and got ready to go.

  When my phone buzzed, letting us know our ride was downstairs waiting, Carson was dressed and I was running around trying to figure out what I’d forgotten to pack. Because, obviously, I’d forgotten something.

  “Was the wedding switched to a clothing-optional event?” Carson said, stuffing the last bite of the breakfast burrito into his mouth.

  “What are you talking about?” I followed his gaze to the bedroom, toward the wedding attire I’d laid out about three minutes ago and then had promptly forgotten about. “See? I knew I’d forget something.”

  “So we aren’t doing it naked?” he asked, frowning melodramatically. “Bummer. Hopes dashed. Disappointment overwhelming.”

  “Disaster averted.” I took one last look at my dress and his outfit before zipping up the garment bag, willing them not to wrinkle. The dress was gorgeous and would flow beautifully with the island breeze, but I would’ve gone with a more formal look for the men. Especially because Carson looks painfully gorgeous in a tux.

  Carson grabbed our luggage, I locked the apartment door, and we ran to get the elevator. It was a short ride down, but it gave me enough time to obsess a little more.

  Specifically, I thought about how weird it was that it had taken me this long to start daydreaming about what I would want at my wedding. Until I’d met Carson, it was my favorite fantasy. Well, that’s not fair to Carson. He hadn’t been the reason I’d stopped daydreaming about it. The asshole before Carson could have all the blame for that one.

  I really hadn’t thought about getting married in a long time. I wished I could say it was because Carson gave me all kinds of new, better, and naughtier fantasies—which was entirely true—but I worked alone all day long. Plenty of time to imagine the really dirty stuff and the traditionally girlie stuff. But I hadn’t. Why not?

  Fear. Wasn’t that always the reason people avoided something? In my case, it was probably fear of falling into the same trap I’d fallen into before…a bunch of times. Stuck in the trap until I got dumped. Way past the moment I’d realized the guy was a jerk. But I’d already committed to the idea. It was too late to back out.

  Yes, eventually I realized how stupid that was. It just took a lot longer than I wish it had.

  Before Carson, I was fantasizing about being Mrs. Whoever by the third date. Everything was different this time around, better, smarter, healthier. I needed it to work. I think I’d been so busy trying to make sure I wasn’t the same stupid person I used to be, that I’d never really allowed myself to think of anything beyond that.

  I was moment
arily blinded by sunlight when we stepped out of the building. By the time I could see again, Carson was already shaking hands with the driver of our car.

  I walked toward the door Carson must have opened for me. As soon as I felt leather under my ass, I closed my eyes and waited. Once Carson had put all our bags into the trunk and slid into the seat beside me, I scooted into the center seat so I could rest my head on his shoulder.

  * * *

  We made it through airport security and to the gate with about two minutes to spare. Carson was dragging all the bags and wouldn’t accept my help with them, so I ran ahead to make sure they didn’t shut the door.

  “See?” he said as we took our seats in first class. “Plenty of time.”

  9

  Laney

  As soon as the plane took off and I’d had two glasses of complimentary Champagne—seriously, I’d never get used to how rich people live—Carson drained his glass, pressed both our seats into the reclining position, and pulled me in close, resting his chin on my head.

  A few minutes later, his breath slowed and his hand relaxed in mine. I guess he’d gotten even less sleep than I had last night and he needed it now.

  I hated to say it, but I was kind of glad Carson had crashed so quickly and stayed asleep most of the trip. I just wasn’t ready to talk about anything too serious—I needed a chance to figure out some stuff for myself.

  I dozed a little, wiggled out of his grip, and read the in-flight magazine, glancing over at him after every few pages to make sure he was okay. He twitched a lot, his brows came together, and he mouthed things I couldn’t make out.

  By the time I’d figured out what overpriced and useless things I wanted to buy from the catalogue very generously offered by the airline, the flight attendant announced they’d be around for one last round of drinks before we landed.

  Hmm… I really wanted another glass of Champagne, especially considering how much Carson must have paid for these seats. But if I did, I’d pee my pants. With my luck, the flight attendant would announce over the speaker system that more warm towels were needed in first class because someone had a bit too much bubbly.

  I unclipped my seatbelt and tried to get past Carson without waking him up. With whatever kind of sixth sense he had wherever my ass was concerned, he woke up right when it was in front of his face and grabbed it. I squealed and looked around at the other passengers, hoping no one had seen him grope me and yank me into his lap.

  “Let go, Carson. I really don’t want to pee on you.”

  He wiped his eyes and looked at me, confused. I think he’d forgotten where we were. I used the seat back in front of me to pull myself off him and walked down the aisle as quickly as I could. My legs were stiff from sitting so long. I must have looked really first-classy teetering down the aisle with my thighs squeezed together and my feet apart so I didn’t accidentally fall into someone else’s lap.

  Once I’d avoided an international embarrassment, I went back to my seat. The flight attendant was bent over, talking to Carson. Or maybe she wasn’t talking. Maybe she was just showing him her tits—I couldn’t be sure. That was one thing I hated about being with him—women seemed to not understand or not care that he was taken.

  It had occurred to me on numerous occasions they must think I was his sister or something, because they hit on him either right in front of me or as soon as my back was turned. And it really kind of pissed me off. Whatever happened to the girl code? Wasn’t it international?

  “Excuse me.” I tapped the woman on the shoulder and rolled my eyes, my other hand bracing on the back of the seat next to me. “That’s my seat”—I pointed past her—“and that’s my man.” I pointed to Carson. “You’d know better than me, but don’t property rights go beyond international boundaries?”

  “I…um…” Huh. Evidently embarrassed stuttering is universal.

  I looked at Carson. “Sorry for calling you my property.”

  He shrugged. “I thought it was hot. Although it would’ve been hotter if you’d claimed me first and then your seat.” He reached around the attendant to take my hand. “Do you want anything else to drink?”

  The woman’s smile tightened but she backed off, and I wasn’t ashamed to admit feeling a large amount of superiority when he pulled me into his lap.

  “I’d love some coffee.”

  “Good idea. I’ll have some, too.”

  “Then I’ll go get you some,” she snapped and wandered off.

  I was definitely going to make Carson share his coffee with me. At least his wouldn’t have spit in it.

  “I can’t believe she hit on you!” I crawled off him and into my own seat, straightening my top. “I was already using the damn bathroom. Where did she plan on fucking you?”

  “She wasn’t hitting on me.”

  “Liar.”

  He smirked. “Actually, my love, we were talking about how long you and I have been together. She thought we looked great together. So if she really was hitting on me, she wanted something a lot hotter than just her and I. But if there’s a way all three of us could fit in one of those bathrooms…” He raised his hand as if to wave her back over.

  “Pervert.” I smacked him as he laughed. “So I owe her an apology for being a bitch to her.”

  “Maybe a little one.”

  I smacked him again, and he laughed again.

  “Hey!” He rubbed where I’d hit him, as if it had actually hurt him. “I meant a little apology, not a little bitch.”

  “Sure you did. Just for that, you’re not getting your threesome.”

  “I’ll live.” His lips brushed the top of my head when I leaned in close to kiss the horrible injury I’d caused him. “I have to work my ass off to keep you happy. No way I’m up to adding anyone else in. Plus, fair’s fair. If I wanted to invite another woman into our bed, you’d be allowed to invite another guy. And that’ll never be up for negotiation.”

  “Even for my birthday?” I teased.

  “Hell, no.” One eyebrow bounced while he spoke. With Carson, that was like seeing a neon billboard that said “DANGER” in all caps. “I have something much better planned for your birthday.”

  “An orgy?”

  He grimaced. “Fuck no! I can’t even stomach that in porn. Do you have any idea how sticky you’d get at one of those things? And what fluids would make you sticky?” He shivered dramatically. “Quick, talk about something else.”

  “Okay, let’s talk about your brother.”

  “Agh!” He clenched his eyes shut. “You can’t go from an orgy discussion straight to my brother, Lane. Have you no pity on a man’s overactive imagination? It takes at least three steps to get a man to stop thinking about sex—you know that!”

  “I do now. Okay, orgy…stickiness…um…” I guess it really was hard being a man. “Tape…video…”

  “Not helping—video and sex go hand in hand.”

  “Everything and sex goes hand in hand with you.”

  “Not anymore. I haven’t needed to use my hand on myself in eons. Although they get plenty of action on your beautiful body, and— Damn it. That’s not helping. Say something totally unsexy.”

  “You have a superhuman ability to connect every word in the English language to sex.” But I tried again, because he was so cute when he squirmed. “Okay, where were we? Um…video…wedding video…are Andi and Hayden having anyone tape the ceremony?” I smiled, my hands up, hoping it was enough.

  “Not your best work. But I think I’m over it. And no, Eric is taking pictures but I don’t think they’re doing a video. Is that important?”

  “To have a record of their wedding? I would think so. Wouldn’t you want to…?” And then I regretted changing the topic—the last thing I wanted to discuss was what he wanted at his wedding. At least not until we’d discussed it. And…

  Huh…

  Yeah, I guess that was how conversations actually happened, wasn’t it? And it would be been a lot more natural than having the pressure of a sit-
down-stare-at-each-other-and-have-the-big-talk conversation.

  Maybe the moment could still be salvaged. “We could talk about the future until we land.”

  He nodded, but before he had a chance to say anything, the plane jerked, and a flight attendant’s voice came over the intercom system.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we have just been cleared to land in Fa’a’ā International Airport. Please make sure your seatbelts are securely fastened…” And then more about coming around to pick up trash and make sure we were properly stowed or something.

  So much for our coffee and spit. Well, at least I didn’t feel as bad for being rude to her.

  Then three different voices speaking the three different languages used on the island came on: “Mesdames et Messieurs, mau Vahine e Homa, Ladies and Gentlemen. Bienvenue à Tahiti. Maeva i te Tahiti. Welcome to Tahiti.”

  “By the time we get a chance to talk about the future,” he said, “it won’t be the future anymore.”

  “And we’ll actually be living it, not talking about it.”

  He turned his body toward me. “This isn’t anything official, but I need to know—yes or no.” He swallowed. “Do you believe we have a future together?”

  “Yes,” I said without thinking. “I can’t imagine my life without you. But we still have a lot of stuff to work on before—”

  “Sorry,” he said, his smile stopping my heart for a second. “I quit listening after you said yes. We’ll deal with the rest of it later.” He faced forward again and let out a long breath, ignoring the fuss of the passengers around us as they gathered their stuff and crowded the aisle. People were pushing up against the curtain dividing first class from coach, as if it were a magical barrier no regular person could cross.

  I didn’t know what Carson was thinking, but he seemed satisfied to hold my hand in both of his until everyone had filed out of the plane.