Play for Keeps (The Devil's Share #6)(8)



We were all silent, all thinking the same thing. I looked over at Dylan, asking for help. She narrowed her eyes, clearly annoyed at what I’d started.

“Well, Lex. The thing is, you don’t seem to be super into planning your wedding. Or, um, anything that goes along with it.” She held her hands up before Lexi could protest. “We get that you’re busy, but there are seven other people who help run Riffraff in Austin, not to mention our actual employees who would be more than happy to help lighten your workload so that you can focus on wedding stuff.”

My thoughts exactly. Only every time someone offered, Lexi refused.

She looked around the room, at all of us. “I’m a terrible bride. I know.” She looked down at her lap. “It’s not because I hate weddings, and it’s not because I don’t want to get married.” She picked her head back up. “I love Dash, I want nothing more than to be his wife. I want to spend the rest of my life with him, popping out as many babies as he asks me to.” She shrugged. “But this art director job at Riffraff? This is literally my dream job. And I was lucky enough to have it fall in my lap. I want to do it well, I want to earn it. And this wedding? It doesn’t matter to me as much as everything that comes afterward does. I want to be a wife, not a bride. I want to be Diane Keaton, not Kimberly Williams-Paisley.”

Dylan, Bryan, and I all just looked at each other. Trying to figure out what the hell Lexi was talking about.

She sighed. “Really? And I’m the one who hates wedding? Diane Keaton? In Father of the Bride? I want to be the couple with twenty-five years under our belt, the couple with memories and stories. I want to dance with Dash at Halen’s wedding. That’s what matters to me.”

I sat down in the glider with Halen, who was now fast sleep. “I can appreciate that, Lex. It’s really sweet.” I think we were all on the same page when it came to our guys. We’d chosen them already, we were already set in stone. Our weddings would just be a formality, just paperwork and a party. We’d already chosen our families, chosen how we were spending the rest of our lives.

Dylan put her hand on her belly, rubbing her bump. “I have a secret.” We all looked in her direction. “I got out that portable sonogram machine that Dash never returned so he sort of accidentally bought, and I peeked. I know what we’re having.”

I patted Halen’s back when she started to stir. “Weren’t you the one who wanted to be surprised? Everything I’ve bought you is green or white.”

“Tell us. Right now. I have to know.” Lexi was on her knees now, almost salivating.

Bryan was still in the bathroom, so she had to basically shout. “Wait. Does Smith know? You can’t tell us and not Smith.”

Lexi waved her objection away. “Of course she can. Fair is fair. She peeked with Halen too, and then told Smith when he won a sex bet.”

I looked into the bathroom. Bryan wrinkled her nose. “Please don’t give us details of the bet. You might be my sister, but I have to look Smith in the eye on the daily.”

“It’s a girl.” Dylan’s smile was so big, and so contagious. It wasn’t a shock that they were having a baby girl. Lexi said she told the guys a long time ago that they would all be blessed with at least one daughter. It was karma. And payback.

I told Luke that he was always a nice guy, so we’d end up with sons.





Chapter Seven





Smith

“I really don’t want to go to this event tonight, cher.”

“I know you don’t. But it’s for charity, and Daisy asked us to represent the label.” Dylan came up and straightened my skinny black tie. “So we’re going.”

She kissed me on the cheek and then walked to Dash and Lexi’s bar and poured me a drink. I didn’t like dressing up, and I didn’t like being in the spotlight. I would have much rather written a large check to whatever charity we were supporting tonight and stayed at home rubbing my pregnant girlfriend’s back. Dylan was eight months along but she’d been having back problems from the beginning. Not to mention morning sickness and horrible heartburn.

I guessed if she could rally after a long week at the studio, so could I. “Okay. But we’re not staying past nine, cher. You were up and at the office by eight yesterday morning. I want you to relax at some point this weekend.”

“Pregnancy Police.” She winked as she handed me a whiskey on the rocks. We were waiting for our limo to get here with the rest of the crew. I’d mostly forgotten about this event until she reminded me last night when we were lying in bed.

My girl was wearing a short black dress that was tight against her body, showing off her bump. I wanted to rip the damn thing off, she looked edible. She looked fucking hot. “How about we get our own driver and meet the rest of the band there?” I leaned down and placed a kiss where her shoulder met her neck. “That sound good, cher?”

She let her head fall to the side, giving me a little more room to work. I trailed my kisses over to her shoulder and then slid her zipper down a few inches. “Sorry, babe.” She wiggled out of my grasp. “You’ll just have to wait until we get home, the car should be here in ten minutes.”

I stuck my lip out like a child, like Jacks. “Fine.” Dylan had felt like crap for the first six months of her pregnancy, but lately she’d been feeling good. Like real good. If you know what I mean. “But we’re leaving at exactly nine and then you are coming home and getting straight into bed. Deal?”

L. P. Maxa's Books