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Chapter 2
Tag Crane
Those two neededto get a room. Or hell, anotherroom.
Tag smiled all the same as his older brother pulled his wife into his arms and laid one on her. Seeing Eli happy was a hell of a lot better than seeing him grouchy. He’d always been grouchy, but this grouchy was more of a fun old-man grouchy. Like Dad.
Wherever the hell he was.
Tag’s stomach did a somersault and he shot a longing glance at Eli’s warehouse entrance.
“You okay, Tarzan?” Rachel teased as she slinked toward him, hips and ass swaying. His sex kitten. She knew exactly what she was doing to him in that dress—just like she’d known when she’d put it on way too early for them to leave. She knew he’d strip her out of it, lay her on the sofa and drop his head between her thighs.
They’d had sex twice before they arrived and damned if he didn’t want her again. Now would be good. The distraction would stave off his nerves, which were starting to make him jumpy, and he sure as shit didn’t do “jumpy.”
“Dimples, when have you known me not to be okay?” he asked, affecting a half-lidded, relaxed expression for both their sakes.
She winked and didn’t answer. Probably because she’d seen him very not okay. Like the shaky moment he’d taken the mic at her cousin’s wedding and announced in front of God and her entire extended family that he loved her.
“They’re so happy together.” Rachel’s eyes held a hint of wistfulness as she watched Eli and Isa play-bicker. “Marriage has done them good.”
Tag swallowed thickly, knowing he’d been putting off what Rachel wanted. Knowing she’d put up with him being hesitant to make them an official “us.”
He cleared his throat and she looped her arms around his waist and rested her chin on his chest.
“I love you.” Her bright eyes shone and he lowered his lips for a kiss.
“Love you, too.” He did. More than anything in this life. In his defense, he’d made huge leaps from the man he used to be to the man he was now. Always chasing a good time, he never could’ve imagined settling down until he’d met a certain adorable blonde. Rachel in his life and in his penthouse morning and night had become not only a habit he loved, but also a life he’d embraced.
Her smile faded as she turned the engagement ring on her third finger. Rachel needed more. Deserved more.
Tag frowned at the door.
Where the hell were Alex and Rhona?
Rachel Foster
Tag was acting more squirrellythan usual.
Almost like… the old him. He was still the same cocky, confident, sexy man she’d fallen for, but over the last month his smile had seemed more tentative and he’d been quiet. Truth be told, it was scaring her half to death.
She accepted the wine offered from Isabella and took a hearty gulp, watching her fiancé across the room. She hadn’t meant to wake up on Christmas Day and wonder about the state of her relationship, but she’d been in long relationships before and had watched them incinerate before her eyes.
Tag and Rachel had overcome great obstacles to arrive at this point. And other than a niggling sense that something was different, there were no signs on the outside that he was any less than one-hundred percent into her. But the holidays served as an excuse to look both back and forward, and when she looked at those two timelines stretching in opposite directions she couldn’t help noticing that, of the two of them, Tag was the one who wanted things to stay the same. She wanted a big, budding, promising future. Their future.
Watching Tag’s happily married brothers love on their wives hadn’t quelled the want thrumming in her veins, either. A helping of envy added itself to the mix, which was unfair to Merina and Isa who Rachel loved as sisters. Even that hadn’t stopped her from asking When is it my turn?
“How’ve you been, Rach?” Isa leaned a hip on the countertop next to her and pegged her with a sharp gaze suggesting she wasn’t asking that question casually.
“Good,” Rachel tried anyway.
Isa said nothing, simply tilted her head.
Rachel huffed a sigh and answered her future (she hoped) sister-in-law’s question. “It’s Christmas. A time for miracles and magic. And when you don’t get exactly what you want, some of the shine dulls.”
“I assume you’re not talking about a present under the tree.”
“I’m being impatient.” Rachel sent a longing look at her left hand. A gorgeous diamond band sat at home on her finger, where it’d sat since Tag had asked her to marry him. A prospect she thought would’ve scared her half to death, but instead had taken firm root in her heart.
