Page 185 of Baby Makes Three


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at there, debating on whether or not to actually do it.

I’d left my heifer behind for something I thought I was supposed to do, and it ended up killing her. I’d sent Chelsea off and stayed behind for something I thought I was supposed to do, and the idea of that having some sort of traumatic effect on her made my head spin.

So, I took out my phone and placed a phone call to Bradley.

Chapter 20: Chelsea

I sat on my couch in my Paris apartment and stared at a blank television screen. I’d ordered myself some food from up the road and was patiently waiting for it to arrive while procrastinating altering the styles in all the ways my boss wanted me to. I wanted to bring a little bit of country chic to the streets of Paris ever since I’d gone home, so I plotted some fantastic designs that I thought would be absolutely beautiful in the store and on the runway. He didn’t seem the least bit impressed, mumbling shit about where my other designs were, but when he got to take a look at a few of them, he ended up jotting down some notes. He told me to make some of these changes and change up the colors a bit, then come back and talk to him.

Then he told me that if I didn’t want to wear my own designs, to not create them. I told him I would wear all the shit I drew any day of the week, and I guess he sort of took that as a challenge. He told me to make the edits and come back in, and we would make a few of the outfits to put on me.

Great.

I stared at the television before taking in all the red ink on my paper, and I realized that by the time I made all these changes the entire purpose of the outfits would be gone. I sighed and leaned back into the couch. Why the fuck did I have to bring this shit back with me to Paris!? I should’ve just cut shit off with Flynn at the airport when he kissed me and fucking came back a rejuvenated and healed woman ready to get to work on my own fashion show.

Now, I looked like a bumbling idiot who’d lost the whole of her memory in a fucking horse accident.

The thunderous knock roared out into my apartment, and I thanked my stars that food was here. Food always helped me to become creative, and maybe eating from that wonderful place down the street would help to get my creative juices flowing.

After all, a little butter on a steaming hot croissant never hurt anyone anyway.

I threw the door open and started rummaging around in my pocket for the money for the delivery man, but when I looked up, I dropped all the money I had in my hand to the floor.

It wasn’t the fucking delivery man.

It was Flynn.

He was standing there with my food in his hand, and when he held up the bag, I slowly stepped off to the side. He walked into my apartment with a suitcase in one hand and my food in the other, but when I shut the door, I felt his hands on my hips. I whipped around and felt his lips crash onto mine, and the only thing I could do was run my fingers through his hair. Never in my life did I ever think Flynn would ever leave the state of Oklahoma, much less find himself in Paris, but the moment his lips descended onto mine I knew exactly why I’d kissed him in that airport and left with things in the air.

Because I loved him, and I wanted any part of him I could get.

“You are the only one for me, Chelsea,” he rumbled into my lips. I pulled back and set my feet back onto the ground, and when my eyes focused back onto his face, he continued.

“I don’t want anyone but you. Ever. And no matter what I have to do, where I have to go, or what I have to give up, I’ll do it. Chelsea, I’ll never keep you from your dream, but I can’t stay away from you any longer. I already lost you once because of that damn horse accident, and I’m not willing to lose you again.”

“Wh-... but-... I-... Flynn! You’re in Paris! I didn’t even know you had a passport!”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, woman,” he smirked. I wrapped my arms tightly around him, and he pulled me to his strong, broad chest, and the only thing I could do was smile and sigh deep into his body.

“What in the hell are you gonna do in Paris, Flynn?” I whispered.

“I’ll figure it out.”

“And what about your animals!?” I breathed.

“One call to my ranch hand, and it’s taken care of. Chelsea, don’t worry about me. I will find something to do. But, I can’t be apart from you. Not any longer. Not after this past month. Not after everything that happened. Everything we felt. Everything we admitted.”

I felt my body beginning to tremble into his, and he swooped me off my feet without a second thought. He panned me around and found my bedroom door hanging open, and before I could even suggest the thought of food, I was being lowered onto my bed. The darkness of my apartment played well upon his sharp features, and the moment Flynn began to unbutton his shirt I scrambled to my knees and planted my hands onto his rippling muscles.

His shirt dropped to the floor, and I leaned in to kiss his chest, and I could feel how hot his body was heating. He crawled onto the bed and knelt down in front of me, and his fingertips played at the hem of my shirt. I raised my arms and shivered in anticipation at what was to come, and when he reached around and freed my breasts from the confines of my bra, he latched his lips directly onto one of my swollen nipples as we both sunk into the bed.

His mouth felt so good against my body, and his skin melted perfectly into mine, and when his lips trailed further and further down, I knew I was about to meet my demise. His hands made quick work of getting me out of my jean shorts, and he groaned when he realized I wasn’t wearing any underwear.

“Such a naughty woman,” he murmured.

He dipped between my legs and flung them over his shoulders, and when his tongue jutted out, he lapped a thick stripe up my slit that shook my body to its core. My hands gripped the sheets beside me as my bare body shook for Flynn, and when his tongue dipped itself into my core, I couldn’t help but call out into the room.

“God, Flynn. Yes. Please. Like that. Right there.”

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