The Wedding Affair (The Affair Series Book 2) (33 page)

“What does that mean?” she questioned. “My dad doesn’t have any guns.”

“You’re familiar with the expression, shotgun wedding, right?”

Yeah,
Sam thought as she pushed the memory to the back of her mind.
To be continued.
She sure had a lot to share with Andi.

“I like this whole setup you have going on here,” she told her friend. They were rambling about Andi’s project studio—a large open room with floor-to-ceiling built-ins, tons of storage, and a convenient tile floor resembling wood planks that were easy to clean.

“Check this out,” Andi said, waving her closer. “It’s a vinyl cutting machine. With this, I can fashion wall decals and make labels using any font, color, and size I need. Used it extensively at a remodel my company did for a children’s treatment center. Picture Spiderman coming from the ceiling and a simple-to-read tag on every toy bin. Love it.”

“Speaking of the business, what’s lined up? Is Tara taking off making waves?”

“
Pfft
,” she snorted. “Ya know what, Sam? Tara is one of those people that when she’s good, she’s really, really good. But off the reservation, she became a complete nightmare. Her ready-to-quit assistant was elated when she resigned and has been holding down the fort until you’re ready to come on board.”

Oh, lord. There it was again. The offer of the to-die-for job where she’d be in a position to put her organizational skills to good use. Before she even thought about accepting Andi’s generous offer, she needed to come clean about being pregnant.

“We need to talk about that, Andi.”

“Yeah, whatever, Sami. Cut the crap. I’m not taking no for an answer. I need you,” she whined. “Especially now.”

“Why especially now?”

“We’d better sit down.”

“Andi. Come on. What’s the deal?”

Her friend grabbed Sam’s hand and yanked her toward an overstuffed sofa that looked like a shabby décor window display. It was pink and white, had big, heavily padded arms, and cushions you sank into.

“I’ve got news,” Andi drawled. She was smiling but had a little smirk happening at the same time.

“Okay.”

“I’m having a baby.”

Sam blinked in slow motion. Did Andi just say she was having a baby? A scowl of concentration stuck on her face.

“What do you mean?”

Andi barked out a laugh. “Kyle and I. We’ve been having nonstop wild and crazy sex. For months. Stopped all birth control before the wedding. One of us must be incredibly fertile because boom! Pregnant.”

“You’re pregnant?”

“Earth to Sami. Yes. Pregnant. Knocked up. Bun in the oven. Baby on board. You knew we were going to try. Why the shocked surprise?”

“Uh. . .”

“Told Dolores, by the way. Right away, my loving parent started counting on her fingers and decided we’d been, and I quote, fornicating before the wedding. She was less than thrilled. Called me a breeder. Honest to god, Sami, her sleazy reaction didn’t bother me at all. Matter of fact, I laughed.”

“Bitch.”

“So you realize what this means, right? John and Judy are going to be honorary grandparents. I can’t wait to tell your mom.”

Sam’s spine snapped to attention at the mention of her parents.

She grabbed Andi and pulled her into a huge bear hug. “Congratulations. I’m so happy for you.”

“But oddly speechless,” Andi observed calmly. “What’s going on, Sami?”

Sam fanned herself with her hand and chuckled. “Oh, my. This is quite a pickle.”

Andi’s questioning gaze never wavered. She took her friend’s silence as a jumping off point and simply went for it. Head first.

“Me too,” Sam quipped with a sharp chuckle. “Pregnant. Knocked up. Bun in the oven. Baby on board.”

Andi’s expression of stunned shock was hilarious. And then the screams of delight and wails of laughter broke out.

“Holy shit, sweetie! Do you know what this means?”

With a dry snicker, Sam said, “Yeah. It means not all birth control is created equal.”

Andi shot up from the sofa and pulled Sam’s hands to join her. They laughed and danced in a circle, whooping and hollering as they shimmied and shook in the ways of the mighty goddess princesses who’d gone before them.

They were waving their hands in the air and shouting Ya Ya with complete, unabashed abandon when Kyle and Ryan appeared in the door.

Kyle, with his tongue-in-cheek wit, looked at them and said, “You two do know that yaya in Greek means grandmother.”

“Yes,” Andi told both men with straight-faced sincerity. “Well, be that as it may. We’re calling Ya Ya for every alpha bride and girlfriend who ever lived!”

“Yaya,” Sam snickered.

“I’m going to assume some secrets have been shared?” Ryan asked.

She and Andi started screeching like lunatics. “Oh, my god! We’re pregnant.”

Kyle looked at Ryan and shook his head. “Did you hear that? They’re pregnant. Not, we’re all pregnant,” he drawled with a swirling hand motion to indicate all of them.

Andi launched herself at Kyle and hugged the crap out of him. She went to Ryan and wrapped her arms around his waist as he flung an arm over her shoulders.

It was Andi who brought the house down and sent them all into a fit of laughter when she looked at Sam and quirked a goofy grin.

In her very best Yoda-infused voice, she declared, “The sperm is strong with these Sommerfield men.”

Yes, it was.

“Feel better?” Ryan asked Samantha as they waited in the drive-thru line for their Whataburgers.

“My parents know. Check. Andi and Kyle know. Check-check. I like their idea of telling yours and Kyle’s parents at the same time. Cut out the middleman.”

He laughed. “You mean the phone?”

It was lighthearted banter, and he was enjoying every second. This was the simple, juicy awesomeness of their relationship. They genuinely liked each other and established an instant rapport to prove it.

Loaded up with enough takeout for a block party, they headed for home and chatted about the newlywed’s happiness and how the universe truly did move in mysterious ways.

He didn’t intend to blurt out what he did, but worrying about holding it in as pee ran down his leg was kinda stupid. Weird comparison, but there you have it.

“Your dad wants an answer about the getting married thing.”

Her reply made him do a double take. “How nice for him.”

Hmm.
His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he considered her answer. She either was signaling a don’t-go-there warning or something else was going on in her head.

“Should I assume from your reaction that getting married isn’t on your bucket list?”

The look she threw his way elicited an actual, heavy gulp from him.

In a voice that sounded dangerously steady and quiet, she got in his face without moving a muscle. “I don’t know, Ryan. Should I assume that I’ve been asked?”

Was he that stupid? Holy shit. He was. That was when he got a healthy serving of shoe leather when he put his whole foot into his mouth.

“I just thought with the baby and everything, that. . .”

“Stop while you’re ahead,” she bit out.

Making a sharp right turn, he leaned slightly and caught the edge of his reflection in the rearview. His conscience screamed,
The expression you are searching for is dumb as fuck.

They made the rest of the trip in complete silence.

At the house, he pulled straight into the garage and told her to hang on so he could help her out of the car. As he came around the rear of the car and approached her door, he knew what needed to be done.

Helping her out with a firm hand, he gave her a second to find her footing, slammed the car door and then pinned her against the warm metal as he initiated an incendiary kiss.

Satisfied after a few minutes of taming her fire that it was no longer directed at him, and instead fueled the blaze their kissing started, he pulled away and smirked.

“News flash. Men are simple-minded Neanderthals who think with their dicks and sometimes forget not to fart in public.”

Her eyes flared, and he knew damn well she wasn’t going to let his faux pas pass all that easily.

“You’re assuming an awful lot,” she told him.

He deflected her jab with ease. “So it would seem. But don’t you worry, babe. I’ve got this.”

Did he? Have it? If he wanted to do things right, he’d damn well better get his shit together and start making plans.

They ate at the breakfast table while he kept up a running commentary about random bullshit meant to calm the waters. She was a hard-ass, though, when it came to letting him off the hook.

He felt like a major dick for forgetting one crucial point in all of this. Samantha, and not him, was the one dealing with a crap load of changes. Including but certainly not limited to losing control over a big chunk of her life for the next nine months.

“Wanna watch HGTV for a while? Let the burgers digest.”

She didn’t put up any objections, so he made them both a glass of ice water and joined her in the great room in front of the huge flat screen.

Samantha was a sucker for home improvement shows. She knew the names of all the channel’s stars and offered surprisingly savvy commentary as the shows unfolded. Andi would benefit greatly from having her best friend’s smart influence help her booming company.

During a commercial break, she asked when the cartons he’d arranged to be shipped from California would arrive. Her grandmother’s tea set was in one of the boxes, and she was worried about it surviving the cross-country trip. Yet another reminder of her total life shake-up.

Not long after, she lay down with her head on his lap and watched two back-to-back shows while he stroked her hip with his hand. When his phone vibrated, he managed to get quite a bit of work accomplished in a series of texts with Burke, who was in charge while Ryan was gone.

With every intention of sitting in that one spot all evening if he needed to, Ryan had settled in for the long haul when Samantha suddenly sat up, took the remote from his hand, and switched off the TV.

Before he could say a single word, she got up and headed for the steps. The part of his brain connected directly to thinking with his dick, enjoyed the view as her sexy-as-shit hips swayed and her magnificent long legs ate up the distance in a hurry.

Following her, he asked, “Where are you going?”

She started up the stairs, stopped, held onto the railing, and leaned back in a provocative pose. If Samantha wanted his attention, she certainly had it.

“Mmm, I’m bored,” she said with an indifferent shrug. “Thought I’d check out this belt collection you purport to have.”

Now, in his defense, his brain was in a constant state of deprivation from the loss of oxygen and blood that appeared to be permanently diverted to his cock. That had to be why it took him so long to read between the lines. By the time he did, she had cleared the stairs and was making for their bedroom.

Oh, man. Really? Belt time? Fuck, man. Bring on the boredom ‘cause he was ready to rock her world with enough badass alpha-ness to make her a lifelong lover of leather and a well-made belt.

S
am was on Andi’s screened-in porch, enjoying a beautiful sunset when her friend dropped out of nowhere and put an arm around her waist.

“You ready for the big reveal? Kyle’s parents have been reading the tea leaves and are being so sweet about not butting in, but it’s time to help them off the ledge.”

“God,” she murmured. “I’m so nervous.”

“Don’t be,” Andi said with stern assurance. “I have it on excellent authority that Hannah thinks you’re the shit. Ryan may or may not have confided in Ali on their flight out of Hawaii. Not about the baby thing,” she hastily added, “but about his feelings for you.”

“How do you know this?”

“Mom let it slip.”

Incredulous, Sam asked, “Mom?”

“I know, right?” Andi’s happy burble went a long way to settling Sam’s nerves. “They’re so great,” she enthusiastically exclaimed. “You don’t know how many times I’ve almost called Melanie Sommerfield, Reba. Can’t be helped.” She laughed.

Sam smiled. “She actually said ‘gosh, darn it’ earlier. Did you hear? Ryan looked like he was going to fall off his chair with laughter.”