Ten Thousand Lies (44 page)

“I thought so at one point, but…”

This was good. I had a front-row seat to this, and I was doing my damnedest not to be noticed.

“But?” Oliver prompted.

“But then I met you, and I realized I had never truly been in love before, okay? Shit with Deo was…what it was. Do I love him? Yes. He’s a dear friend, and it doesn’t matter that we used to have sex because we ended it for good months before I met you. And, since the day I met you, I haven’t given him a second thought in
that
way.”

I spared a glance at Ollie, who seemed to be thinking quite hard, as he stared at his pint glass. His gaze traveled up and over to the dance floor, and his eyebrows rose in mild surprise. I looked over to witness my husband doing The Salmon, a move that should get a dancer arrested for performing it. He jumped in the air, his body straight, arms glued to his sides, while he wriggled like a fish out of water.

“Do you ever wish it
had
worked out between you two?” Oliver half-whispered to Xanthe.

I almost hadn’t heard it.

“If I had, I would have done whatever it took to do so while I’d had the chance.”

Oliver dug into the pocket of his jeans, and I wasn’t even trying to hide my curiosity at this point. He pulled something out and held it clenched in his fist.

“Is there anything else I should know about, Xanthe?” he asked his pint glass.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Like…do you have a love child somewhere?”

“No. Do
you
?”

Oliver flinched. “You know I don’t.”

“Look, I’m sure I’ve forgotten about some shit. If you find out about it one day, you can let me know, and I’ll happily tell you all about it. But, for God’s sake, Oliver, don’t go fucking spastic again. I can’t change the shit in my past. What I have with you is the only thing I want out of life.”

Oliver nodded and then scooted out of the booth where he got down on his knees.

“What are you doing?” asked Xanthe.

“Come here,” said Oliver, holding out his hand.

Xanthe took it and scooted closer to him.

Damn it, I’m going to cry.

In his hand was a black velvet box, which he pulled open. “You told me a few months ago that you’d say yes if I asked.”

“Oh…” breathed Xanthe.

I wished I could see her face. She wasn’t wearing her glasses, so her expression would be blazing. I leaned over her shoulder to get a better look at the ring.

Holy shit, that’s huge!

“Even though I went a little spastic today—”

“A
little
?”

Through his beard, Ollie grinned. “Yeah. A little.”

“Harrumph.”

“Will you still say yes, love?”

Xanthe sniffed, and I saw the back of her head nod. “Yes.”

Oliver took the ring from the box and slid it onto her finger. Xanthe didn’t even look at it, but she launched herself into his arms. Oliver crushed her to him, one hand tangling into her bushy hair. He whispered something to her, but the sound of “Thrift Shop” by Macklemore made it impossible for me to catch the words.

All was right with the world again. I could see it shining in Oliver’s eyes as he looked up at me. I smiled and gave him a thumbs-up. He closed his eyes and buried his face in Xanthe’s hair.

Ricki

“So, am I forgiven then?” I asked Jaime as she came out of the bathroom and into our bedroom.

“There was nothing to forgive,” she replied.

The evening had turned festive once news of Oliver and Xanthe’s engagement spread through the group.

Jaime was pink-cheeked with the amount of alcohol coursing through her. I was pleasantly buzzing meself.

Greedily, I watched her pull her T-shirt over her head and toss it somewhere on the floor. Just the sight of her perky tits had me hardening, and before I really knew what I was doing, I was shimmying out of my boxers and pouncing on her.

Jaime giggled, driving me mad for her. “Oh, good. I’ve been seriously horny all damn day,” she stated.

“Well, I’m about to scratch your itch, Dollface. Any requests?”

“Ooh! I think I’d like it hard and rough. Can you manage that?”

I let out a slight belch. “Yeah, I got you covered.”

She busted out laughing, and I flipped her over onto her belly. She liked it like this the best because I’d hit her so deep. While I liked it best for that reason, too, I still loved boring-ass missionary, so I could watch her face when she came.

Hefting her up by her hips, I slipped my hand between her legs, finding her ridiculously wet. “Damn, woman,” I grunted.

“I know. Like I said—” She moaned beautifully as I pushed into her, making her lose her train of thought. “Fuck yes.”

“Christ, you’re wet. Was the proposal that fucking hot?”

“No…it was you on the dance floor, getting jiggy with Ellen.”

Grabbing a handful of her dreads, I pulled her up onto her hands. She pushed back against me, taking me to the end.

“Oh,
fuuuck
, Ricki,” she groaned.

She snuck a hand between her legs, and I felt her working her clit. I fucking loved that. Reaching further, she caressed my sac until the whole of it rested in her hand.

“Spank me, babe.”

I whacked the shit out of her left arse cheek.

She squeezed my nuts, making my hips punch.

“Fuck, Jaime,” I panted.

“Pound me hard. You can make love to me after.”

“How hard?”

“Fucking brutal, babe.”

Her fingers went back to rub her clit while I lost my shit all up inside her, battering into her, until she screamed and shivered around my cock, milking me dry.

Collapsing on top of her, I crushed her flat beneath me, breathing harshly into her ear. I could still feel the pulse of her orgasm around me.

“Fuck,” she grunted, pushing her bum back. “You feel so good inside me. Can you keep going?”

“Damn, woman,” I panted. Shifting my legs over her thighs, I pushed myself up, thrusting my pelvis to get in deeper. My cock tingled and thickened inside her. “I guess I can.”

She moaned incoherently.

When I rotated my hips, we both groaned with the movement.

“
That
. Do that again.”

In lazy circles, I pumped into her, my cock growing harder. Our bed creaked and slapped the wall. My wife began making those noises that drove me insane. Primal, needy, desperate mewling that just fucking sent my arse over the edge.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chanted.

She’d come twice already, and she was once more diddling herself as I began pummeling her cunt with my cock.

“
Now
, Jaime. I can’t hold on anymore.”

With a sob, she clamped down on me, wetly imploding, as I threw my head back and screamed her name.

Jaime

Six Weeks Later…

“I think Oliver wants to get married in England,” Xanthe was saying.

Lilla and I had joined her for lunch at Vinkle’s. Lilla was happily chowing down on her French dip sandwich while I poked at my grilled chicken sandwich and fries.

“But I’ve already told him, if Ricki won’t go because of it, then we’re having it here, and people can fly their asses to us. I said we could just do it like you and Ricki did, but I think he would have blown a gasket if I insisted. He wants the whole shebang—dude, are you all right?”

I raised my eyes to Xanthe’s, finding her question directed at me.

“Hmm? Oh, I’ve been feeling kind of off lately,” I said. “Like, I have a hangover. We went out drinking days ago though, and I didn’t drink much that night.”

Lilla turned shrewd eyes on me. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Like, you get nauseous and shit?”

I nodded and reached for my cola, which was weird because I hardly ever drank the shit, but I had been craving it for days. It was the only thing that settled my gut.

“And tired. I fell asleep at the shop a couple of days ago, man. In the piercing chair. Maybe I’ve caught something I can’t shake. Ricki comes into contact with all sorts of people. Maybe there was some foreign flu going around with the unfortunates on their last mission.”

Lilla snorted. “I don’t think so, but it sounds like it’s Ricki’s fault you feel like shit.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re knocked up.”

“Shut the fuck up.” I laughed. “Ricki’s sterile. There’s no way.”

“Aren’t you on birth control?” asked Xanthe, shoving one of my fries in her mouth.

“No. I stopped taking it after we got married. There’s no need for it. He shoots blanks.”

“When was your last period?”

Thinking back, I realized it had been quite some time. “About eight weeks. Holy shit…”

Lilla looked smug while Xanthe looked shocked.

“How do you forget your period, Jaime?”

“I don’t know. It just didn’t happen, and I didn’t…but it’s impossible, you guys. Ricki’s nuts got mangled when he was a kid.”

Lilla shook her head. “Denial.”

“What?”

“Woman, you’re pregnant. When was the last time he had his junk checked anyway? Because, even if he had shot blanks before, he’s certainly not now.”

I sat back, stunned with this revelation. I’d never thought it would happen. Hell, I wasn’t too sure I wanted it to happen. I’d gotten used to the idea that I would never have to worry about getting pregnant.

Suddenly, Lilla’s assessment of denial cleared, and I was more than certain I
was
pregnant. It made complete and utter sense to me in that moment.

“Oh my God…” I whispered.

The three of us hauled ass to the closest pharmacy after lunch—which I’d ended up taking mine to go—and bought several pregnancy tests.

“Where should we go?” asked Xanthe. “Not my place. If Oliver sees a shit-ton of positive pregnancy tests, he’ll be over the moon, and then I’ll have to devastate him with the truth.”

“Ronen would have a heart attack,” drawled Lilla. “He can barely handle Maddison.”

“My place, it is,” I said. “Ricki and Ronen are doing paperwork at headquarters.”

Lilla nodded. “Ronen was grumpy as fuck. He can barely handle paperwork, too.”

Once back at my and Ricki’s, I drank a few pints of water, and the three of us waited for about an hour until my bladder was full to bursting.

After I peed on the first stick, the three of us hovered outside the bathroom door, giving the test some privacy, I supposed.

“Three minutes,” said Xanthe cheerfully.

I tore into the bathroom, already feeling the urge to pee again, and snatched up the stick.

“Two pink lines!” I exclaimed.

“Woohoo!” cried Lilla.

Xanthe and I stared at her.

“What? Isn’t this what we want? No?”

I took a shaky breath. “Yeah, it is. I guess I just never realized it.”

Xanthe beamed.

To be on the safe side, I took two more tests and ended up with the same results.

Pregnant.

Pregnant.

Holy shit. I’m fucking pregnant.