No Weddings (No Weddings #1)(47)

“Yeah.” A sexy moan filtered through the earpiece.

I chewed once more, then swallowed the lump down my throat. “Did you just stretch?”

“Mmm-hmm…”

I looked up from my plate to the sudden silence in the room and found the entire table gawking at me. I narrowed my eyes and shook my head, ignoring them.

“What are you wearing?”

I swear I could hear her smile.

“What I always wear.”

“Which is…?” I wondered if she was a flannel-pajama girl, or a T-shirt-and-boxer sleeper, or maybe naked…

Soft laughter. “What makes you think I’m going to tell you?”

For a second, I focused on the commotion at the table. There seemed to be a great debate over whose vehicle they would take on the ride up to New York: our Jeep or Ben’s Escalade.

No one paid any attention to me. “Better than me imagining the possibilities: cotton…silk…burlap…”

A long pause. “Nothing.”

“Fuck.” Sunday mornings just shot stratospheric. On a slow exhale, my plate finally came into focus again. “I can’t wait to share a lazy Sunday morning with you.” And it wouldn’t be here at my house, either.

She hummed, but it broke midway through into a purr. Damn. I wanted to hear that sound again. My life’s mission had suddenly become: make Hannah purr.

“Lazy Sunday mornings sound nice.” Another slow moan.

I lifted a piece of crispy bacon into my mouth.

Hannah’s stretching moans silenced. “What are you doing? Are you eating?”

“Yep. That was bacon.”

Soft laughter now replaced the breathy moans.

Purrs and laughter. My favorite sounds from Hannah. I began a new list. The only list I would ever have.

The thought of lists reminded me of my calendar. “Oh, I meant to call you later today anyway. Kristen sent me an email. They want to go over the plans for our next event. Want to do dinner at Kristen’s tonight?”

Ben dropped his fork onto his plate, clanking echoing out.

“What?” Ben and Mase both shouted in protest.

Blinking, I glanced up to both of them staring at me, looking slighted. Figures. Take away their gourmet food source, and they became all ears.

“Shut it.” I glared at them. “You can have her Monday and Wednesday.” The comment prompted an epic inquisition from their women over the secretive dinners they’d been told nothing about. Good. Serves those meddling f*ckers right.

Hannah laughed. “That the boys?”

“Yeah.” I rolled my eyes at them. “Babies.”

“Awww, I think it’s kinda cute. They’re addicted to my cooking. And yeah, I can make Kristen’s tonight after I close up the shop; I promised Chloe I’d close if she opened.”

“Good. And they are addicted. They’re also addicted to you. But not like how I am.”

She laughed. “God, I hope not.” A pause. “Because, if you recall, I don’t do foursomes.”

“Me either. I’m a twosome guy.”

“Yeah? Never a threesome? Not even once?”

I snorted. “Not even once. Not my thing.”

Had the opportunity presented itself? Sure. But I’d declined. I’m too dominant in bed for that shit. I take control, making certain every shudder and moan comes from what I’ve done to her, for her.

Two girls and a guy? Poor Y-chromosome sucker never stood a chance.

“Good. I like a guy whose full attention is on me.”

I sighed. Sainthood had its trials. My breakfast had suddenly lost its appeal in favor of the woman on the other end of the phone. With a scrape of my chair, I abandoned the table to take the conversation private.

“Whipped!” Mase shouted at my back.

Yep. Totally whipped, but they were only harassing, guessing. They truly had no idea.

I entered my bedroom, growling, “You have my full attention now,” to the pleased murmurs of a girl who I now needed to mainline daily.

With a wide grin on my face, I closed the door.





The dinner vibe at my place was like the best poker night and game day all rolled into one, with Hannah being one of the guys right along with us. Dinner with Hannah and my sisters at Kristen’s? The exact opposite.

It was hell.

The dynamic of one brother and three sisters had always been evened out by my level of antics, attitude, and absolutely no filter whatsoever. But the skill had been balanced and fine-tuned over a lifetime of noogies, swirlies, pink bellies, and drool-monster wrestling. I particularly prided myself on their teenage years, embarrassment taking on a whole new level when both popularity with other girls and attracting crush-of-the-month boys were at stake.

Tonight, I sat as a quiet observer at the table, realizing the scales had been tipped into the X chromosomes’ favor. Perhaps irrevocably.

Silence evolved from a need for self-preservation. But the way this group bonded together, I wondered if I’d finally met my match.

And yet, seeing the smile on Hannah’s face, how she thrived among a newfound sisterhood she’d never had, I couldn’t bring myself to ruin it for her with even one snarky remark. At my place, she’d found in my friends the brothers she’d never had. And now she had sisters too.