Make Me a Match Read online

Page 8


  There’s a second of silence. I toss the letter opener up in the air and catch it. Abbott clears his throat. “R-r-right.”

  Paislee looks unconvinced. I let the golden dagger drop to the floor and cross the room to tuck Paislee under my arm. “Marguerite, I’m stealing your granddaughter away. We’ll be back for the wedding.”

  “What do you mean?” she squawks in protest.

  I hustle Paislee toward the door. “I’m putting the cart before the horse, and I’m sorry for it, but I can’t spend another night without her. We’ll be by for breakfast tomorrow,” I tell Paislee’s grandmother. “I like French toast.”

  At the door, Huntington gives us a stiff bow. “All the things are in your car,” he says.

  “You’re a good man, H. If you have trouble here, let me know. I suspect we’ll be moving to a new house once Paislee starts having kids.”

  “I’m having kids now?” Paislee asks, amused.

  “It’s a natural byproduct of sex, baby, and since we’re going to have a lot of it, I foresee a house full of kids. One plus one.”

  I guide her down the stairs.

  “If we have too many kids, there might not be time for sex,” Paislee informs me. What a wicked tease.

  “My vision is changing. Seems like we’re having only one.” I give the minx a wink before handing her into the car.

  Paislee’s laughing as we drive away from Belle Époque, and the sound of her happiness is the best thing in the world.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Paislee

  I keep stealing small glances over at Gant. After my father's words last night, I went to my room, took a shower, and then climbed into bed. I had been mentally exhausted from dealing with my dad. Once I was settled, I let all of my emotions go, eventually crying myself to sleep. Any hope I ever had of my father having a change of heart left me last night. He would never change. And at this point I could care less. I don’t need him or his approval. I never did.

  I let his words mess with my head at first. They tried to poison my mind against my grandma and Gant, but the more I thought about them the more I realized how full of shit he is. Gant isn’t with me for money or power. He could have his own under his family name.

  The man is a history teacher because he wants to be. He’s wealthy but still humble. He lives in a home that suits his needs. I’ve also seen how he treats his sister and mom. He isn't going to use a woman. It’s not in his nature. I may have only known him a short time, but my gut tells me he’s a good man. I have no doubt about that. My dad underestimated my faith in Gant and the amount of love I already have for him.

  “How did you know he said something to me?” I ask.

  “You didn't call me last night.”

  “I’m sorry. I let him get in my head for a minute.”

  “You believed him?” He flicks his eyes my way for a moment before going back to the road.

  “No, I don’t think I really ever believed him, but I had to come to terms with the fact that my father truly is a horrible person that will never care about me. That he will never look at me as if I belong here.”

  He reaches over and grabs my hand. “Your grandma cares about you. Hell, my mom and sister already love you. Fuck him if he doesn't know what he’s losing out on. If your mom was half the woman you are and he walked away from her, that only proves my point further of how stupid the man really is.” Wow. I didn’t think that I could fall more in love with Gant, but with those words he proves me wrong.

  “Can you drive faster please?” I lick my lips. He steals another glance my way before he noticeably picks up speed. He slips his hand from mine to place it on my leg. I thank my lucky stars that I wore a dress today as his fingers slowly drift back and forth on my bare thigh. I swear my legs part on their own, wanting him to inch up higher. “Gant.” His name comes out in a moan.

  “I know,” he growls, pulling into his driveway. The car is barely in park and we both are getting out as fast as possible. He snags me by the hand, pulling me toward the front door. He unlocks it quickly. Before I know what’s happening, I’m in his arms. He carries me over the threshold.

  “I’m guessing we’re not going to wait until we’re married,” I tease.

  He stops walking. “We can if you want.” His hold on me tightens, making me laugh.

  “No waiting.” He begins moving again, going straight for his bedroom. He drops me down on his bed and starts pulling at his clothes, revealing himself to me. I can’t pull my eyes from him. He’s big all over.

  “Babe. Clothes or I’m ripping them off you.”

  “Right.” I kick my shoes off before grabbing my dress and pulling it over my head, leaving me only in a bra and panties.

  “Fuck.” Gant’s breathing grows heavy as he stumbles to get the rest of his clothes off. I’d laugh if I wasn't so turned on. I go for my bra next and then my panties until I’m left naked in the center of his bed. “You’re so damn beautiful. I knew I was waiting for something special all this time, and now you’re all mine. Worth every second.”

  My eyes fill with tears. “I think I’ve been waiting for you too.” Never in my life have I felt a pull to another person as I do with Gant. Since losing my mom I’ve felt so lost. With him, that feeling slips away, and I’m just me. I feel safe with him. My heart knows that he’s my home. I hold my hand out, and he takes it. I pull him onto the bed as I fall backward, making him come down over me. “Make love to me,” I say against his mouth, loving the feel of his body so close to mine with nothing between us.

  “I plan on it. Today, tomorrow and for the rest of our lives.” He takes my mouth in a kiss that is both possessive and full of love.

  “Gant. I need you.” I break the kiss, lifting my hips up to try to get the friction I need. My body is begging for him to make me his. I feel him smile against my lips before he begins to trail kisses down my neck. “Please,” I beg, wanting him to go quicker.

  “Need to get you ready.” He licks the tip of my puckered nipple before gently blowing on it. It’s the sweetest torture. I’m about to beg him again, but he takes my nipple into his mouth. My body arches off the bed as my fingers grab ahold of his hair. I swear I feel as though I could orgasm from this alone.

  He slips more down my body, spreading my thighs to make room for him. “You really are beautiful everywhere.” His tongue circles my clit before he wraps his mouth around it, sucking it into his mouth.

  My hips try to rise off the bed, the pleasure being too much, but he presses me back down, making me take it. That is one of the things I love about Gant. I can try and run because I’m scared of my feelings or of what is to come, but he keeps on pushing me to where I need to go.

  “Come for me, love.” Between that tongue of his and him calling me love, it sends me over. I close my eyes, calling out his name as pleasure rushes through my whole body. Gant comes over me, my body still humming with pleasure as he pushes the head of his cock into me. “I should wait until we’re married, but I’ve already waited my whole life for you. I can’t bear not being inside of you another second.”

  I open my eyes to look up at him. “I don’t want to wait. I want to be close to you in every way.”

  “I love you,” he says before thrusting all the way inside of me. I let out a gasp. The mix of pleasure and pain hits me. His words of love have me wrapping myself around him tightly. “Baby, please tell me you’re okay.” I can tell he’s straining not to move, not wanting to hurt me any more than he already had to.

  “I love you too.”

  He closes his eyes, savoring my words.

  “Again,” he orders. His tone is firm. My sex clenches around him. His eyes fly open, a smirk pulling at his lips when he realizes how my body responds to him bossing me around.

  “I love you.” He pulls out and thrusts back in. A moan leaves my lips as I tighten my legs around him.

  “That’s right, love. Cling to me. I’m all yours.” He moves faster, thrusting in and out of me.

/>   “Gant.” A flood of emotions hits me. I pull him down to kiss me as we make love. I know without a doubt this man is my soul mate. He will not only heal the broken pieces inside of me but give me all the things I’ve ever dreamed about and more.

  I’ve been so lost. I’m still not sure what I want to do with my life, but for the first time since I lost my mom I feel like I’ve found my way again. Whatever the future holds, it’s less scary knowing I’ll have Gant by my side.

  “Let go, love. Come for me. I’ve got you.” I do. I let go knowing he’ll catch me as the pleasure takes me. He comes with me, spilling deep inside of me, claiming all of me. He holds me close as we get lost in each other.

  That night at the charity event I thought I was bidding on a date, but what I got was my happily ever after.

  Epilogue

  Gant

  “Given that the founders’ intention was to create rights for property owners, how do you feel that influenced the way the original Constitution and subsequent Bill of Rights were drafted?” David Choi has his head down in the last row, so naturally I call on him. “David?”

  “Locke says that the individual effort should be rewarded rather than the collective good,” he mumbles into his desk.

  “And what would Locke say about automation? If an individual’s effort is replaced by a robot, should the robot be rewarded?”

  “I think—”

  “Mr. Fréres! Mr. Fréres!”

  David’s answer is cut off by a commotion at the door. Alison Holland skids to a stop, holding on to the door frame and panting heavily as if she’s run a lap around the building. “Mr. Fréres, your wife—Paislee—she’s having her baby!”

  I blink, frozen for a second, trying to process what the student has just said. The book on modern Locke theory falls out of my hand to the floor.

  “Mr. Fréres?” Someone calls my name.

  “Oh holy fuck,” I breathe. “Class dismissed.”

  I bolt for the door. Behind me, there are a flurry of voices and a stampede of feet. Halfway down the hall, I realize I’ve forgotten my bag and keys. I spin around and find a wall of students. Choi shoves my shit in my gut. “You forgot this, Fréres.”

  “Yes, thank you,” I say rotely, not really registering much other than I need to find my wife and my car, in that order. My heart is pounding fast enough I wonder if I might have a heart attack.

  “He’s lost. Josh, go and get his car. Alison, where’s Mrs. Fréres?” Choi pushes me forward.

  “She’s in the bathroom.”

  “The bathroom?” I turn around again in panic. “She’s having our baby in the bathroom?”

  “No. No. She just wanted to change,” Alison tries to explain. “She said she’d meet you at the car.”

  “Go and get her,” Choi repeats. “Fréres can’t think right now. Either of them.” He shakes his head and pushes me along. My feet start moving on their own, but he’s right. I’m not putting two and two together. My brain is overloaded. We’re having a baby. We. Are. Having. A. Baby! Finally my synapses start clicking, and the urgency to find Paislee puts me in high gear. I start running. The bathroom. Why is she in the bathroom? Is she having her baby in the bathroom? I race inside, ignoring the signs that tell me to keep out.

  “Paislee?” I slam each metal door open. There are a couple screams of surprise. “Sorry,” I mutter when I encounter two girls in a clinch.

  “Mr. Fréres, your wife is at the front waiting for you,” one of them tells me.

  I nod my head. “No making out in the bathroom,” I call over my shoulder as I run out.

  “I can’t believe Mr. Fréres is a DILF now,” I hear one sigh.

  “He’s your teacher, Ceci.”

  “So? I can’t have fantasies about teachers?”

  “Yes, but maybe wait until he has the kid so he’s actually got the D in the DILF.”

  “He can put the D in me any time.”

  “Can you guys shut up about boning Mr. Fréres while he’s trying to get to the hospital?” Choi barks. He shoves the girls aside. “Mr. Fréres, Josh has your car at the front.”

  “Where’s Paislee?” At the front step, all I can see are students and my Land Rover idling in the front.

  “I’m here,” comes her voice.

  I turn around to see Choi muscling his way through the crowd of students with Paislee under his arm. I make a mental note to allow him to sleep his way through the rest of the semester. Seeing Paislee calms me down. “Baby,” I murmur, taking her arm. “How many minutes apart?”

  “Um, five?” she says weakly.

  “Five?” I shout.

  “I didn’t know that they were contractions,” she wails. “I’ve never had a baby before!”

  “It’s okay. It’s all good,” I say, but inside, I’m panicking. I need to get her to the hospital. I reach down and pick her up.

  “What are you doing? I’m too heavy for you.” She bats at my hands. “Put me down.”

  “Get the door, Choi!” I yell.

  A body rushes by and pops the door open. I slide Paislee into the seat and then hurry around to the driver’s door.

  “Should I drive?” Josh asks.

  “Maybe we follow them?” suggests Choi.

  It’s how Paislee and I end up with a twenty-plus car entourage. I don’t even try to explain it to the hospital staff when we arrive. Mom and Caro and Marguerite are already in the birthing room.

  “One of your students called us.”

  “Of course they did.” I help Paislee out of the bathroom where she’s changed into a gown. There’s sweat on her forehead.

  “Did you have a contraction?” I say as she climbs into the bed.

  She bites her lower lip and nods. I put an ice chip to her lips, which she accepts gratefully. “How close?”

  “Three minutes,” I tell her.

  “Our baby is coming soon,” she says. Her grip is tight. Her face is luminous.

  “We are.” Emotion overwhelms me. Five years ago when I first laid eyes on Paislee, I knew I wanted her forever, and now the forever includes a child.

  “Are you excited?”

  “So excited I almost left school without you, my keys, or my car.”

  She giggles until her laughter is cut off by pain. Her tight grip turns into a vise that threatens to break my fingers. I remind her to breathe. She tells me to fuck off.

  “I love you.” I kiss the white tips of her fingers.

  “If you touch me again, I’m killing you,” she pants.

  “It’s only what I deserve.” I wipe the sweat off her forehead with a towel.

  “How can you be so calm? I’m having a baby!” she yells.

  “I know.” I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. It’s not that I’m happy about her pain, but I’m so full of joy over this miracle. We’re at the hospital. Our family is here. The doctors are just outside the door. The nurse has arrived and is bustling around the room. It’s all going to be good. I don’t need to panic anymore. My heart is still pounding. There’s sweat running down my spine, but I am weirdly calm. How could I not be? The love of my life is having my baby. I don’t deserve such a blessing, but I have them and I’ll treasure them forever.

  The contractions subside, and Paislee grows teary. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

  “You should be yelling at me. You are passing a watermelon between your legs.”

  She laughs again. “Stop making jokes,” she says. “It hurts my tummy.”

  “I don’t think my bad jokes are what is hurting you,” I demur.

  She starts to chuckle, but the pain takes her over. The cursing comes back, as does the iron vise around my fingers. The process occurs again and again until there’s no blood in my fingers and she’s drenched in sweat.

  There’s one final push, and then the air is filled with nothing but panting and the singular cry of a newborn. My heart rises into my throat. Paislee starts sobbing. I hear a distant yell. “It’s a girl!” followed by w
hat sounds like a football team cheering in the hallway.

  “It’s a girl,” I whisper to my wife. “You did so well.”

  The nurse raises the head of the bed and places our baby girl in Paislee’s arms. Tears stream down my wife’s face as she peers down at the little bundle. With the help of the nurse, Paislee feeds the baby for the first time and then collapses from exhaustion.

  I take the child and settle into the chair next to the bed. “Welcome, baby Fréres.”

  As my precious wife slumbers, I whisper to my daughter about the plans we have, the picnics we’ll take, the places we’ll visit, the books we’ll read—all together. Paislee entered my life an orphan but she’s now surrounded by the people she loves and who love her, which is how it should be. Perfect.

  Also by Ella Goode

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