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His eyebrows shot up. “Kids?”
“Well, we gotta have at least two. Don’t want her to be lonely.”
The corner of his mouth kicked up. “What if it’s a he?”
“Maybe, but I’m pretty sure it’s a girl, big guy. Just a feeling.”
“You sure you’re going to want to do this a second time?”
“What? Can’t take another super horny pregnant wife?”
Warmth flooded his chest. “Oh, I can take it.”
He’d grown up devoid of this kind of love. And he vowed that his child would never know what it felt like to wonder if they were wanted.
He and Harper wanted this family. The proof of it was beating between them, as tiny as a peanut right now. But soon she’d fill their world with even more love. And knowing that his daughter was just the beginning should have scared the shit out of him. Instead, he finally felt that last click of rightness.
They would do better because they had each other.
If you missed the origin story of Deacon and Harper please check out Rocked, and Rattled (previously published asRock, Rattle and Roll).
Read the complete Lost in Oblivion series or visit quinnandelliott.com for more details about our Oblivion World!
RIPPED: JAZZ AND GRAY
A LOST IN OBLIVION EXTRA
This bonus extra takes place after Rattled (previously published asRock, Rattle and Roll), Lost in Oblivion Book 2.
Jazz stepped into a winter wonderland.
“Wow, look at this place.” She tugged on the half-finished scarf she’d started knitting to pass the long hours on the tour bus and pivoted on her ankle boots to survey Longview Country Club’s main dining room. She tipped back her head to study the understated pine-and-acorn garland draped from the eaves of the vaulted ceilings then took in the festive displays of poinsettias on the long tables covered in snow-white linen. “Pretty freaking awesome.”
“A waste on some of these guys.”
Jazz blinked at the muttered response from Lila Shawcross, Ripper Record’s PR person and all-around right hand woman. The coolly professional blonde never complained about anything in Jazz’s presence, but Lila looked positively peeved right now. “True enough,” Jazz agreed cheerfully. “But I love it.”
Lila blinked and the little wrinkle between her cornflower blue eyes vanished. “You have exceptional taste.” She linked arms with Jazz and motioned to the spread of food being set out by Harper, Deacon’s wife and her band of merry food-making men and women. “Speaking of taste, Harper made these jingle bell deviled eggs that are just to die for. Want?”
“Oooh, yes, I do. But I have something else to add to the festivities first.” Jazz waved the roll of silver-and-gold streamers she’d brought along with a sheepish smile. Lila was the type of woman who seemed flawlessly perfect from head-to-toe and probably wouldn’t think much of Jazz’s decorative help. “I saw this at the pet store and had to get it.”
“The pet store?” Lila’s forehead wrinkle returned as she seized the roll of streamers. Her grin transformed her face from merely pretty to flat-out gorgeous, mainly because it was so unexpected. “Ah, I see now. There are little animals on here. A cat, a dog, a ferret—”
“Any rodents?” Simon strutted up and threw his arms around them. He looked like he’d been rode hard—or done plenty of riding of his own. Long dark hair mussed around his head, blue eyes sleepy and satisfied. “Can’t leave out our favorite rat.”
“He’s not a rat.”
Simon scratched the happy trail on his bare belly. That belly happened to have an serious six-pack going on, but since he was the closest thing to Jazz’s brother—or had been before a few months ago—she only noticed with a flicker of lashes before focusing on his face. “So why’d you name him one?” he asked, the question a low, lazy drawl.
“Ratt is for the band, not because he’s a rodent. For the fiftieth time, he’s a guinea pig, Slutmaster.”
“Instead of worrying about rodents, perhaps you should re-consider your wardrobe choice for tonight, Mr. Kagan.” Lila arched one perfect brow in Simon’s direction before striding away, her full hips swaying in a way Marilyn Monroe would’ve envied.
“I love dirty librarian types.” Simon stared after Lila. “I bet she’d fuck you without taking off those little round glasses.”
“I don’t think she’d fuck me like that,” Jazz said drily, dragging Simon’s gaze back to hers with obvious reluctance.
“Don’t put that picture in my head, Purple Princess.” Simon snatched the roll of streamers and started wrapping the sparkly thin paper around his torso like a sash. Considering all he wore beneath the streamers were a pair of jeans that could’ve doubled as two-sided tape, she considered it a major upgrade.
