Daisy Does It All (Clover Park, Book 2) Contemporary Romance (The Clover Park Series) (29 page)

He watched her, and she felt the moment he started to lose control. She pulled back and looked up at him. “Did I convince you yet?”

He grasped her arms and pulled her up. “This is gonna be over way too soon if you keep that up.” He led her into the bedroom. “And I still need a lot of convincing.”

She crawled onto the bed, stopped on all fours, and looked over her shoulder at him. “Take me, Trav,” she said huskily.

“Now I see what you’re doing there,” he said, setting a condom on the nightstand. “And I do appreciate the view, but this isn’t gonna be a wham, bam, thank you, ma’am.”

“I like the wham, bam,” she said, rolling to her back and opening her legs to him. She let her fingers trail down, touching herself. “Are you convinced yet?”

He closed his eyes. “Not yet,” he croaked.

Then he was on her, entering her in one swift stroke that had her breath catching. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, bucking her hips, urging him along. He stilled, slowly pulled out and thrust back inside. Again. And again. Forcing her to his rhythm. She stopped bucking and went with it, letting him take the lead, take his fill. She gave him everything she had in complete surrender. He must have felt the moment she was on the edge because he suddenly pumped hard and fast, giving her the release she needed. He went with her a moment later.

Trav rose up on his elbows and grinned down at her. She smiled back, filled with love for this man.

He kissed her again. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Does this mean you’ll be my husband?”

“I might need some more convincing,” he said with a grin.

“Well, we’ve got all night.”

He nibbled at her lower lip. “Yeah, we do.”

They spent the night wrapped in each other’s arms, their love burning bright and hot. By noon, they got up for lunch. He kept her in his lap as they ate grilled cheese, his hand playing with the side of her breast, her hand running through the hair at the nape of his neck.

She met his hazel eyes and saw love shining back at her. “I’ve got you now,” she told him.

“You always have,” he replied.

Epilogue

They married barefoot on the beach in July.

Daisy didn’t want to overshadow Liz’s special day in June—a grand event with most of the town in attendance in a huge mansion that was owned by the town and used for special events. Liz had looked like Scarlett O’Hara descending that grand staircase to her very own Rhett Butler. Their parents had catered, of course.

Daisy dug her toes into the sand across from Trav. Her tulle over chiffon gown was cut high in the front, ending mid calf so it didn’t get caught in the sand, while the back trailed full length behind her. Trav looked stunning in a tux with the pants rolled up at the cuffs. Ry stood next to Trav as one of three best men, holding Bryce in a baby tux. Her little guy was officially an O’Hare now. He’d turn one next month and was already walking. He was so much happier now that he was on the move and had settled right in with her at Trav’s place. The other two best men, Shane and Rico, stood nearby. Liz was her matron of honor, and her two closest friends, Amber and Zoe, her bridesmaids.

Justice Fleming approached the happy couple as the sun began to set over the Long Island Sound. Maggie had held out hope that her new certificate as a minister of love that she’d printed off the Internet would turn things in her favor, but they’d remained firm in their choice of the justice of the peace.

Daisy took a deep breath. Now that it was real, she was shaking. She’d never gotten married with so much riding on the outcome. Her son’s future happiness. She’d demanded so much from Trav. Could she give as much as he gave?

Trav gripped her hand tight, seeming to sense her nerves. “Relax. It’s us. We’re forever.”

And just like that, she felt better. It was the “us.” There truly was an us now, living together, raising Bryce together, sleeping together. Her body warmed at the memory.

Justice Fleming, an elderly woman with dyed black hair, looked to her for the go-ahead. She nodded.

“Friends and family, we are gathered here today to witness the marriage of Dorothy—”

“Daisy!” she corrected, her face flaming.

“
Daisy
Garner and Travis O’Hare. On this beautiful beach, we are privileged to witness the love of two young people close to our hearts.”

“I’ve written my own vows,” Trav whispered.

Daisy turned to him in shock. “You did?” She’d planned to recite whatever the judge said. Trav was always surprising her. Like when he’d told her he wanted to put an addition on to the house and then showed her an amazing plan he’d designed. She’d have to try to keep up. She looked forward to the challenge.

Trav smiled. “Yeah, I’ll go first.”

“The groom has prepared his own vows and would like to go first,” Justice Fleming announced.

“Awww…” the crowd sighed.

Trav cleared his throat. “Daisy, I promise to be my whole genuine self with you. You’ll have to put up with my jokes, and my bed head, and my toothpaste cap problem.”

Daisy smiled as the crowd tittered.

He went on. “And in return, I promise to leave the seat down and never, ever, say you look fat in those jeans.” His eyes sparkled merrily. “Through thick and thin, good and bad, for the rest of our lives.”

She gazed at him, a surge of affection running through her. She just wanted to kiss him right now. “You goof.”

He grinned. “Your turn, sweetheart.”

“Travis, I promise to be my genuine self with you and give to you as much as you’ve always freely given to me. I won’t be the perfect wife or the perfect mother, but I will always work hard to be my best. You’ll have to put up with…” She tried to think of some bad habits that she wouldn’t mind sharing with the world.

Trav shook his head. “Really? Can’t think of a single thing?”

Everyone laughed.

Just stick with the truth.

“With my messiness!” she said. “I really don’t care about cleaning. And I don’t cook. And…in return, I promise not to leave feminine hygiene products lying around”—the crowd roared, and she raised her voice—“and to be sweet to you, except when I have PMS, and to never say I have a headache.” She grinned. “Through thick and thin, good and bad, for the rest of our lives.”

He cradled her cheek and kissed her in that slow and tender way of his that always made her crazy for more. The kiss quickly turned hot, and she threw her arms around him as the rest of the world fell away.

Justice Fleming cleared her throat. “I didn’t say you were man and wife.”

They kept kissing.

The judge sighed. “I now pronounce you man and wife.”

Everyone cheered. Trav pulled away, and they smiled at each other. She liked that when she looked at him now, she saw a man and not just a dad.

“Do I look like Bryce’s mom to you or just Daisy?” she asked.

He cradled her cheek. “You look like my woman, who’s going to get ravished tonight.”

She beamed. It was what she’d wanted all along. Well, not the ravishing part, but…well, yeah, that too.

~ ~ ~

Daisy’s Private Journal—No Peeking

Trav wants me to follow my dreams, so it’s on to the next adventure. Before all the excitement over my blog, I’d been really excited about the infant massage that worked wonders on Bryce’s colic. It absolutely saved my sanity to have a way to soothe him that really worked (except for his nightly pre-bed scream session), so I’m going to an infant massage training workshop in the fall to become an instructor!

I might write a little fiction on the side. About a single mom who demanded more from a guy who gave and gave and gave, until she finally realized it was her turn to give.

I think it will have a happy ending.

Daisy Garner O’Hare

~THE END~

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Daisy Does It All
. I hope you enjoyed it! If you did…

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You’ve just read book #2 in the Clover Park series. The books in the series are
The Opposite of Wild
(Ryan and Liz),
Daisy Does It All
(Trav and Daisy),
Bad Taste in Men
(Shane and Rachel), and
Kissing Santa
(out Christmas 2014). I hope you enjoy them all!

If you’d like to read an excerpt from
Bad Taste in Men
, Shane and Rachel’s story, please turn the page.

Bad Taste in Men
: Excerpt

Clover Park series, Book #3

Something's Brewing Between Friends…

Rachel Miller knows opening a café with coffee and pastries will make her struggling bookstore
the
place to hang out. But when the bank turns her down and her best friend Shane steps in, she vows business will never ruin their friendship.

Gourmet ice-cream maker Shane O’Hare knows food, not women. To sweep Rachel off her feet, he secretly sells his beloved ’67 Shelby Mustang and becomes a partner in her café. And then she sets him up with a friend.

As they build the café together and Rachel learns what Shane has sacrificed for her, she finds herself falling for him. Now way too much is riding on the success of this business venture—her career, her best friend, and her heart.

Rachel complained to Shane about her lack of time for all this sprained-ankle business on the drive back from the hospital.

“The doctor said six weeks and you'll be good as new,” Shane said.

“In the meantime my business will go bankrupt and the street fair will never get off the ground.”

He glanced over. “I'll help you with work. And Barry's running the street fair this year. Don't worry.”

Shane was so sweet. Rachel was not.

“Barry's only been in the chamber of commerce for a few months,” she said. “He's going to need help. And you have your own business to run.” She stared out the window at the passing scenery. “I'll figure something out.”

Shane ran Shane's Scoops, an ice cream/coffee/candy shop across the street from hers. It was one of the things they had in common, both owning their own shop in town. The other thing they had in common, what had moved them from passing acquaintances to friends, was the Liz-Ryan connection. Rachel and Shane were thrown together often because of them-parties, family barbecues, town celebrations. Liz included Rachel in her new social life revolving around the O'Hares, and Ryan, her husband, always included his brothers, Trav and Shane. She knew Shane from as far back as middle school, but had paid him little attention then. He'd been a tall, quiet boy and not nearly as interesting as the books she loved to lose herself in.

“You don't have to figure anything out because I'm helping you,” Shane said. “That's just how it's gonna be.”

She scowled, not liking this new bossy side of Shane. Still, she did need help, and no one would understand better how to make both the business run smoothly and get the street fair going than him.

“I'll pay you,” she said.

He snorted. “You don't have to pay me. I'm helping out a friend.”

She didn't know why she said that. Pride, maybe. She barely had enough money to pay the part-time cashier she had. That was why her plan to add a café in the space next door just had to work. She needed to make Book It more of a destination to draw people not just from Clover Park, but all the neighboring towns. When she'd brought up the idea of a café to Shane, he'd agreed to be her food and drink supplier. He'd wanted to expand his offerings, but didn't have the room in his ice-cream shop, so the café was a good idea for both of them.

“Okay,” she finally said. “Thank you.”

Shane stopped at a light and gave her a smile. Two adorable dimples appeared. “You're welcome.”

Rachel faced front. Why was she noticing his dimples all of a sudden? He always had a dimpled smile. She was getting punchy. It was late, and she was exhausted from a long and painful day.

A short while later, they pulled into the small parking lot behind her store. Her apartment was on the second floor. Shane fetched her crutches from the back seat and walked around to open her car door. She tucked the crutches under her arms and made her way awkwardly to the rear entrance.

“Thanks again,” she told him. “I got it from here.”

He exhaled sharply. “Gimme the keys. I'm not leaving you.”

She pulled her keys from her purse. “I'm fine. You've done your part. Thank you. Good night.”

He snatched the keys from her, unlocked the door, and slipped a crutch out from under her arm, replacing it with his body. His voice rumbled low in her ear. “Relax.”

She suppressed a shiver. That would've happened with anyone speaking so close to her. Sound waves and physics and neurological stuff. She glanced at him, so close. His eyes were blue with flecks of gold. She'd never noticed the gold flecks before. Her eyes widened as he leaned the other crutch against the building and scooped her up in his arms.

“Careful of my ankle!” she screeched.

He grunted, pushed open the door, and carried her upstairs to her apartment. If her pulse was racing, it was only because of the risk of falling down an entire flight of stairs. He carried her in and set her down gently on the bed.

“Really, Shane, there are easier ways to get me into bed.”

His voice went low and husky. “When I want to get you into bed, you'll know it.”

Her face flushed. She opened her mouth for a snappy retort, but nothing came out. Was he coming on to her or insulting her?

He chuckled. “I'll bring your crutches.”

He left, and she propped up the pillows behind her so she could sit up in bed. He returned and placed the crutches next to her bed.

“I'll take the sofa,” Shane said, “so I can carry you downstairs again in the morning.”

“That's ridiculous. I've got crutches. I can do it.”

“If you don't want me to stay, then call me when you wake up and I'll come over. I'm not letting you tumble down those stairs.”