Doing it for Love
All About Love # 1
By: Cassie Mae
Releasing September 29, 2015
Elizabeth Fanning’s life looks pretty perfect, judging by the diamond ring on her finger. Her fiancé, Landon, is sweet, handsome, and hilarious. The trouble is, before they’ve even tied the knot, their sex life has gone from mind-blowing to “meh”—and Liz isn’t ready to be part of an old married couple. After a cathartic call to her best friend, Liz comes up with a brilliant idea. She and Landon may never be able to re-create the magic of their first time, but how amazing would their wedding night be if everything below the neck was off-limits until then?
Liz thinks it’ll bring them closer together. Landon’s convinced she’ll cave first. So they raise the stakes: Whoever lasts longer gets to pick their honeymoon destination. With her heart set on the Bahamas and Landon fighting for snowbound Utah, Liz simply has to win. But pretty soon, her body is screaming for attention, and Landon’s never seemed so far away. Has Liz’s experiment backfired? Losing their little competition would be frustrating—but the one thing she can’t afford to lose is him
“Did you want a baby?” he asks, and my jaw drops.
“It’s okay if you did. I . . . I mean, I want to have kids with you someday.”
Someday . . . yes. But not today. I grin at the scared-as-hell look on his face. That’s the great thing about the longtime relationship. I know his looks. I know his smiles, his frowns, his laughs. I reach to him, and his hand slips through my wet blond hair, hugs the back of my head, and pulls me into his shoulder. I lock my arms around his torso, ignore the sweet buzzing all over my stomach and heart and sides. His fingers massage my scalp as he rocks me.
“I like the idea of having a permanent piece of you,” I admit into his wet skin.
“You already have a permanent piece of me.” One of his hands slides down the length of my back. “Hell, you have the whole thing.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Okay . . . if you really want . . . I’ll impregnate you. Open up.” He pushes at my thighs, and I smack his shoulders.
“Pretty sure I want us to be married first. And I don’t know . . . older.” Like years ahead of us. We can barely afford to feed ourselves.
“You . . . you said married.”
I push back on his chest, and he scratches his dark hair. “Just letting you know I’m not freaking out about it.”
“This is not freaking out about it?” I say, circling my finger at his face. It could be the steam from the shower making it smoke red, but it sure doesn’t seem that way.
“I let it slide like it was nothing.”
“You did not.”
He growls, playfully nipping at my neck. “Well, I’m not freaking out,” he muffles against my skin, creating goose bumps up and down my spine. “Because, you know, we’re in the spot.”
“You know, the spot.”
“In the shower?” I laugh when his red face darkens a shade.
“No, I mean . . . I love you. And it’s not like I’m going to break up with you. And I’m pretty sure you want to be stuck with me.”
“You think we’re stuck? That’s ‘the spot’?”
“No. Shit, it’s coming out wrong.”
“I don’t even know what you’re trying to say.” I laugh, bending down to adjust the heat on the water.
“I’m saying there’s no reason for me to freak out because I want to marry you. I think, you know, we should get married.”
My hand stops dead on the tap, and I crick my neck to catch his expression. He’s gone from red wine to white in the blink of an eye, water dripping from his dark hair down his forehead, and he frantically wipes it away. Then he reaches for me, pulls me up against him, hiding his face.
“Um . . . what did you just say?” I croak, my heart suddenly beating out of my skull. A tidal wave rushes through my stomach, and my nails dig into his shoulders to make sure I’m not dreaming or something.
He slowly backs away from my neck, eyes wide as grapefruits. “I didn’t mean . . . oh shit . . . it wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”
He falls forward, pushing me against the cold tile and hitting his forehead on the wall near my cheek.
“What wasn’t supposed to happen?” I ask through a small laugh. Seconds ago, he was boasting about not freaking out, and now he’s gone bat crazy.
“I had it all planned,” he grumbles into the tile. The echoes bounce off my shoulder. “I even bought a suit. Outside patio dinner, clear night for stars . . . I was going to pull out all the romantic stops, and it just falls out when we’re in the shower.”
“Landon, are you being serious? I can never tell.”
“Because I’m never serious?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
He lifts his head, eyes meeting mine, and a nervous twitch pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Will you marry me?”
My heart’s still thumping through my brain.
“The test was negative, Landon,” I try to joke, but it comes out wobbly. “You don’t have to—”
“I know.” His palms cradle my face, drops of water falling from his eyelashes. “Will you marry me?”
His misty lips make contact with my nose. I’m still trying to process if he’s serious or not.
“Really? This isn’t because of that pregnancy test, is it?”
“I was planning on asking a few weeks ago. Cross my heart, the ring’s been in this apartment for at least a month.”
My eyes flick back and forth between his, searching, searching, searching for a lie, a joke, a tease, something. But it’s all honesty and nerves and love. So much love I find myself slipping on the wall, losing strength in my knees.
“You are serious.”
“I love you, Liz. Marry me? Please?”
I feel a smile tug on my mouth. The water’s getting too cold to stay underneath, but my body temperature rises, my skin boiling under his touch. I grip his forearms, holding myself steady while he continues to cup my cheeks.
I love every bit of this man, every piece of his heart and soul and mind and body. So even though I wasn’t expecting it this way, even though I was just internally moaning about not getting any spontaneous loving, I practically shout my answer at him.
“Yes?” He pulls back, the stream of water hitting him square in the face. I laugh and bat it away from him. “Yes . . . you said yes?”
“Yes, I said yes.”
A large relieved breath leaves his mouth before he presses it to mine. Landon’s arms circle my torso, pull me up against his now hot and slick body, and every ounce of disappointment I was feeling evaporates with the shower steam.
“I thought I royally botched that.” He laughs, and a wave of minty breath travels from his mouth to mine.
“You did,” I tease before closing the gap between our lips again. “But I love you.”
Cassie Mae (who dons the name Becca Ann on occasion) is the author of a few hundred—okay, maybe not that many—books. Since writing her bestselling debut, Reasons I Fell for the Funny Fat Friend, she has published books with Random House, Swoon Romance, and Tulip Romance. She has a favorite of all her babies, but no, she won’t tell you what it is (mainly because it changes depending on the day). Along with writing, Cassie likes to binge-watch Teen Wolf and The Big Bang Theory. She can quote Harry Potter lines quick as a whip. And she likes kissing her hubby, but only if his facial hair is trimmed. She also likes cheesecake to a very obsessive degree.
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