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Raven

H endrix wraps his arms around me, pulling my body to his, and we groove to the strains of “Stars Like Confetti” by Dustin Lynch.

He sings in my ear about climbing in his jacket, and like my heart, you can have it, and warmth slides through my veins.

Leaning back, I smile up at him. “You have a really nice voice.”

Pulling in his chin, he grins down at me. “I’m not sure I’m pageant material.”

“Don’t worry. I never was either.”

His arm tightens around my waist, and he hugs me closer. “Don’t sell yourself short, Pink. You could be the queen of my double-wide trailer any day of the week.”

My head falls back with a laugh. The crowd around us sings the chorus, and Hendrix moves his hips in a way that fills my mind with dirty thoughts.

I’m right there with him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and letting him take the lead. “Is this our first dance?”

He looks around as if he’s thinking. “We didn’t dance at Dylan’s reception?”

Slanting my eyes, I smile. “We left early.”

“Yeah, we did.” His eyebrows waggle. “I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Dare Night is everything I imagined it would be, from the crazy food to the wild lights and dancing, to the Bradford family all around laughing and teasing. The music alternates between fiery dance tracks and country hits, but it all comes winding down when the clock strikes eleven.

“You’re glowing.” Hendrix holds my hand as we exit the dance floor again. I’ve lost track of how many times he’s dragged me out to sway in his arms tonight. “You seem really happy.”

“It’s like the family I never had.” I look around the room wistfully. “I’m happy for Haddy.”

A gentle pull of my hand has me snug at his side. “I’m pretty sure they think of you as family, too.”

Chewing my bottom lip, I think about his words and wish…

“Have we lost our daughter?” I deflect, looking around the room.

Zane and Rachel are behind us, and they’ve been inseparable all night, holding hands and dancing close like almost-newlyweds.

I spy our little girl at a table with Dylan and Miss Gina, the sweet old blind lady who owns the Italian-style villa on the bluffs where Dylan and Logan were married. She’s like the family’s honorary grandmother.

“Uncle Henny!” Kimmie Joy shouts, and I’ve been wondering where that little voice was all night.

Jack’s daughter marches up to where we’re standing like she’s ready to fuss, and Hendrix bends down to sweep her onto his hip. She’s in first grade, and she’s already a lot like her aunt Dylan.

“Uncle Grizz said you told me a fib. He said my American Girl doll won’t come alive at night when I sleep.” Her six-year-old arms cross, and she frowns hard. “He said you were trying to scare me.”

My hands cover my mouth to hide my laugh, and Hendrix presses his lips together, I’m sure to do the same.

“It’s true.” He nods, looking so contrite. “I was teasing you, but I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Her dark head tilts to the side as she considers his apology. Then all at once, her expression brightens, and she pats his shoulder. “That’s okay, Uncle Henny. I tell fibs sometimes too.”

“What?” He almost laughs again. “Like when?”

“Like one time I told Daddy a snake was under my bed because I didn’t want to sleep all by myself.”

“What happened?”

“He said I could sleep in his bed until I fell asleep, but I shouldn’t tell stories.”

He lifts his chin. “Your dad’s right. We should always be honest. I’m sorry I told a fib. If I promise not to do it again, will you?”

Her dark eyes slide to the side again as if she’s considering her answer, and he gives her a little shake. “Kimmie!”

“Well…” Her reply bursts into squealing laughter as he starts to tickle her, until she finally relents. “Okay! Okay !!!”

Then he puts her on her feet and she scampers away to where Dylan is holding our daughter.

Shaking his head, he looks over at me. “That girl is going to be trouble when she gets bigger.”

“I think she’s adorable.” Stepping closer, I hold his arm, rising onto my toes to kiss his cheek. “And I think Haddy has a great dad.”

Blue eyes darken when they meet mine, and lust sizzles in my veins. His low voice tickles my stomach as he asks, “When can we get out of here without hurting people’s feelings?”

“That didn’t stop us last time.” My tone is sassy, and the muscle in his square jaw flexes .

I heat right up when I see him struggling for control. “Everybody wants to see Haddy now.”

“You’re not trying to get out of here, are you, Hen?” Garrett walks up, slapping him on the back. “Logan wants us down at the station tomorrow to record a show.”

A poster of Logan and Zane hangs on the wall near the pool tables. It’s an image of them both in headphones with broadcast mics in front of them and the words Lightning & Thunder splashed across the bottom.

Dylan walks up to where we’re standing, bouncing Haddy on her hip. “She is the sweetest little baby, Rave. Just look at that smile!”

As if on cue, Haddy pulls her pacifier out of her mouth and makes her Zzz sound, showing off her four teeth.

“I think it’s time we added a little boy to the team.” Logan walks up, wrapping his arms around his petite wife, then he nods in my direction. “Hey, Rave, I’ve got an idea for a meteorologist position if you’re interested.”

My ears perk up, and I do a little bounce. “I’m interested!”

His eyes drift to Hendrix and back to me again. “We’ll talk later. It’s a school night. You guys coming to the station tomorrow so we can record the show?”

“We’ll be there.” Hendrix’s low voice is at my side, and his arm is around me, like it’s so natural.

“Bachelorette tomorrow night!” Allie skips up to where we’re standing, scooping Haddy out of my sister’s arms. “I’ll bring the purple drink.”

“Oh…” I look from Haddy to her. “Who’ll watch the babies?”

“Austin already offered to help. He’ll have Edward and Kimmie and Benji Maxwell on hand.”

“Sounds like a full house,” Hendrix laughs. “What are we doing?”

“Crashing, of course.” Logan dips his face to nip at Dylan’s neck .

“You are not!” she cries, batting his arm. “You boys need to find something to do on your own. Give Zane a lap dance.”

“On it,” Garrett answers fast. “Craig has our outfits in his car.”

“Now I want to crash their party,” Allie laughs, looking from Grizz to me.

Hendrix stands straighter, reaching for our daughter. “We’d better get Haddy to bed before she starts fussing.”

“Damn, keep it in your pants, horndog,” Garrett quips.

“Uncle Henny’s not a corn dog!” Kimmie skips into the circle, holding up her hands to jump on Garrett’s back.

“Ha!” Hendrix punches his brother’s shoulder. “Busted.”

“Don’t teach my daughter new words.” Jack’s weary complaint joins the group, and I can’t help a laugh.

“You’ve got your work cut out for you with those two,” I say, and he smiles, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

“You and Rachel are the only ones with my back.”

“That’s not true!” Allie cries, but she’s laughing along with Dylan and Liv.

He just shakes his head, lifting his chin at me. “Good to have you here, Raven. Welcome to the family.”

My chest squeezes, and my silly eyes burn. Blinking quickly, I look away, inhaling slowly. I didn’t expect that from Big Brother Jack, and it’s like I’m really a Bradford now.

I whisper a thanks as I reach for Hendrix’s hand. He smiles at me like he’s feeling the same way as me—happy, loved, and so conflicted.

With hugs and plans for tomorrow, we tell everyone goodbye. Garrett says we can use his truck while we’re in town, since it already has our things and Haddy’s car seat in it.

The staff at the hotel greets us like old friends, and Hendrix leads us to his usual, gorgeous suite overlooking the bay. It’s just like before, only this time a portable crib is in the corner.

Haddy fell asleep on the ride here, and as I look down at her sleeping peacefully, her daddy steps up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist.

“What are you thinking?” His voice is quiet.

My reply is equally quiet. “How I’d like to stay in this moment.”

We both watch our sleeping daughter in the pale light of the full moon.

“It’s a pretty good moment, Pink.” Sliding his lips along the side of my neck, I feel him smile against my skin.

I rest my head against his, thinking how right now, even with the silvery moonlight around us, this place is golden.

“Ahhhnd we’re back, hoes and hookers, for the notorious, the infamous, the potentially dangerous, third-annual round of Marry, Fuck, Kill!” Rachel cups her hands beside her mouth, making whispery cheer noises.

“We’ve created a monster.” Allie leans into my side as she pours five glasses of her infamous purple drink. “Tell me, Rach, what’s the difference between a ho and hooker?”

Rachel waves her away, and I inspect the cup of grape Kool-Aid mixed with what I’m pretty sure is jet fuel. “It’s only the second time for me. And the first round was two years ago.”

“We have a correction, ho-ho-hoes…” Rachel says in her fake-announcer voice, digging in her bag and taking out pens, slips of paper, and the little hourglass. “It’s the second, biennial, notorious, potentially dangerous…”

“Speaking of danger,” Dylan sing-songs as she dances out with a tray of gorgeous finger foods. “Who’s ready for ghost pepper toast points with goat cheese and honey?”

“Me!” I cry, holding up a hand.

“And the non-spicy option is…?” Liv takes a Solo cup of purple drink, scooting onto the stool beside me .

“Pizza rolls.” Dylan plops a basket filled with little rectangles on the table between us.

“Yum, I’ll have some of those, too.” I lean into Liv’s side, and we both laugh.

“They’re Garrett’s fave,” Liv informs me.

“I brought hummus and pita.” Allie digs out a plastic bag holding a tub of store-bought hummus and a package of pita. “Don’t judge—I was working in the library all day.”

“No judgment here.” I walk around to help her arrange the items on the table. “You brought the purple drink.”

“That part’s easy,” Allie whispers. “Two parts Kool-Aid, one part Everclear.”

“Oh, shit.” We snort a laugh, and Dylan holds up her plastic cup for all of us to cheer.

Then we slam it back, and I don’t even wince. This drink is dangerous.

“Okay, ladies, get those pens ready.” Rachel takes out her phone. “First round is coming in hot!”

“Why am I suddenly nervous?” I giggle, and Dylan grips my hand.

“It’s the battle of the Elvises.” Rachel’s voice turns ominous. “Jacob Elordi, Austin Butler, Bruno Mars… GO!”

“Bruno Mars?” I frown. “When did he…”

“He was an Elvis impersonator as a little kid.” Allie explains. “He was so cute. He was this little bitty?—”

“The clock’s ticking, Bookish Spice,” Rachel fusses.

“I’m not entirely sold on that nickname.” Allie frowns. “It sounds kind of boring.”

“You’re the sexy librarian.” Dylan waggles her eyebrows as she quickly writes her answers. “Take off your glasses, let down your hair, and… Done!”

“I should start wearing glasses,” Allie muses, quickly folding her sheet of paper.

Rachel isn’t far behind, and she and Liv put down their pens and finish their cups .

“Dang, y’all are fast!” I’m still staring at my blank sheet.

“Just write anything.” Allie gives me a hip-check as she refills everyone’s red Solo cups. “There are no wrong answers.”

My lips twist, and I quickly scribble down the names as Rachel yells time.

“Me first!” Dylan bounces on her toes.

“Shouldn’t it be Rachel first, since she’s the bride-to-be?” Liv catches her sister-in-law around the waist.

“Let’s read them all together,” Rachel suggests, and I wait as they all read them out.

“Fuck Jacob, Marry Bruno, Kill Austin.” Dylan cries, which starts the debate.

“I’m having a hard time with the name Austin,” Allie complains. “I can’t do any of these things without thinking of my son.”

“It’s a game , Allie,” Dylan leans into her. “You’re not really doing it.”

“Okay, I have to know…” Leaning forward, I grab a handful of pizza rolls. Purple drink is sneaky, and I’d better eat something before I’m drunk. “Did you name your son after that old TV show?”

“I was eighteen!” Allie cries, her face turning bright red. “It was my favorite show!”

“Oh, my God, you did?” Liv collapses into laughter against Rachel’s back.

“I knew it!” I hold up my glass for a cheer.

“My turn, my turn…” Dylan leans against the bar, grabbing a toast point. “Vin Diesel, Paul Walker, The Rock.”

“Ooo, Fast & Furious edition.” My eyes widen, and I quickly write my answer.

“See, you’re getting the hang of it.” She elbows me, folding her sheet in half.

The final grains slip through the plastic hourglass, and Rachel calls time .

Holding up my hand, I announce the correct answer. “Fuck The Rock, marry Paul Walker, kill Vin Diesel.”

More screams break out, and Allie says I’ve got it all backwards. Liv is on my side, but Rachel and Dylan both marry The Rock.

“It’s a valid choice,” I concede. “But I’m a sucker for blue eyes.”

“I know you are.” Dylan pokes my side, and we fall against each other.

The party continues with the purple drink flowing. We eat all the finger foods and argue over whether to marry or fuck Jensen Ackles or Milo Ventimiglia. We’re all united in killing Zac Efron. Poor Zac.

Both Hemsworths go in the fuck category, since there’s not a third hot one, and halfway through the night, Dylan, Rachel, and Allie’s phones all go off at the same time.

“Are you kidding me?” Liv turns wide eyes on me. “We’re still not in the family group chat?”

“I have an iPhone!” I hold up my device. “It’s easy to add me.”

“It’s Jack,” Allie explains. “He always pulls up the old thread by mistake.”

We crowd around Dylan’s iPad, watching as Logan drags Zane to a chair in the middle of the dance floor at the bar where they’re having the bachelor party.

Zane tries to object, but we hear Logan say if he had to do it, Zane does, too.

Then the lights change to disco, and “Pony” by Ginuwine starts playing. We all scream as Garrett and Craig dance out in their blond wigs. They’re both in sequined halter tops, and they move their hips in time like exotic dancers.

Zane drops his head forward like he’s about to be killed by firing squad, and his brother gives him a lap dance while Craig runs his fingers through his long, dark hair.

Rachel wipes tears from her eyes as she laughs, but Dylan and I both scream when Hendrix saunters out. He’s not wearing a wig, but his shirt is off and his jeans hug his ass and legs so well, I have to fan myself.

He turns his back to his brother and bends forward, shaking his ass in his face. Naturally, Zane pushes his brother’s butt with his foot, but Hendrix is prepared, catching himself in a push-up and doing a smooth, arching lift off the floor like a real exotic dancer.

“That was hot as those toast points,” I say, still waving my hand in front of my face.

“My brother’s got moves!” Dylan does a little hip shake, and I can’t argue.

He turns around, dancing off the stage, and while Garrett and Craig are hilarious, Hendrix is pure sex. Or maybe that’s just me speaking as the person sleeping with him.

“Oh, my gosh.” Rachel collapses on the chair. “We’d better get some rest if we’re going to be at the stables at ten.”

“I’ll bring hair of the dog!” Allie picks up the empty platters, and I help collect the cups and napkins, tossing them in the trash.

“You’re going to die when you see what Clint did with the place,” Rachel gushes. “It is absolutely gorgeous. I cried.”

“He really is talented,” Dylan adds. “He’s getting more confident now, too.”

The restaurant is cleaned, and we follow a weaving path together up the hill to the Bradford house.

“The ceremony will be in the alley between the stalls. The big doors will be open, and we’ll face the green pasture. Everything is decorated with pine boughs and twinkle lights, and my bouquet is camellias and winter jasmine. He got those scented pine cones, so it smells amazing.”

“It’s almost Christmas,” I wistfully note, thinking of the holiday just around the corner.

“I wish y’all would stay with us.” Dylan rests her head on my shoulder. “Haddy needs to know her aunt Deedee. ”

“Hendrix has a game.” My voice is quiet, and I think about how I’d like to spend Christmas with him.

It’s so close. Even though it’s past our three-month limit, I wonder if he’d be okay with that. I think he would.

Dylan and Rachel are settled at the house. Austin picks up Allie and me, driving me to the hotel before taking his mom home.

When I get to our room, Haddy is asleep in her crib, and her daddy is breathing heavily from the bed. I quickly wash my face and slip between the sheets beside him. Thinking about his sexy moves on the dance floor, I press my lips against his warm skin.

Without hesitation, he turns, cupping my cheeks and pulling my mouth to his for a hungry kiss.

We don’t speak. We don’t question the way my legs part, the way he moves above me, the way our bodies come together like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

His hands are on each side of me on the mattress, and as he rocks his hips, sending his cock deeper into my slippery core, I slide my hands up his muscled arms.

I remember the way he moved on the dance floor, rolling like a wave on the ocean, and a moan slips from my parted lips. I grip his shoulders, lifting my back so I can trace my lips along the lines of his chest.

My tongue slides over his salty skin. I press my teeth against his hard muscles, causing him to groan deeply. Arching my back, I meet his movements, taking him even deeper.

He stretches me, caresses me, sends me straight to the edge. It’s a primal dance, so basic between a man and a woman, a husband and a wife.

He’s mine. I’m his.

We get closer to the end and our movements become feverish. We moan and kiss, chasing our release, and when it happens, I’m more sure than ever this is how it’s meant to be.