Текст книги "Easy Melody"

Автор книги: Kristen Proby

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Chapter Eleven

~Declan~

She fucking blows me away. I’m sitting in The Odyssey two weeks later, watching as she sits for her interview with the Travel Channel crew. She’s already given them a tour of the roof, and now she’s giving them the history of the place. This is the part that I know is hardest for her, but you’d never know it. She’s cool as a cucumber in her black skirt and white button-down, and she’s wearing the grey heels I picked out for her. The blond hair that I can’t seem to stop touching is piled on top of her head in a lazy knot and her lips are red.

She’s pulled off the classy rocker-chick effortlessly. I know she was probably just going for classy, but she always has that edge to her, no matter what she wears.

And I fucking love it.

She’s speaking of her father without blinking an eye, but she does fist her hand once, which tells me that she’s not happy with this line of questions.

The fact that the freaking Travel Channel is filming in her place is amazing. Not that she hasn’t earned it. Everything about the place has changed, not just because of the renovations, but because of the woman who runs the show.

And the producer is a smart man for recognizing that. The segment on the show will only be a little over ten minutes, but they’ve shot at least an hour's worth of coverage to make sure that they have enough footage to pull from. I’ll be performing in about an hour, and they’ll get more filming in then.

“She’s doing great,” Adam murmurs as he walks up beside my table. I purposely sat where I can keep an eye on my girl. Just in case.

“That she is,” I agree with a nod. “Not that I thought she’d do otherwise.”

“She’s a pro,” Adam says. “She deserves this.”

“You both do.” He shrugs, but I don’t let it go. “You both worked your asses off, and continue to, Adam. She knows that, and so do you.”

“It’s her place,” he insists, then pats my shoulder and returns to the bar, where he winks at a redhead and asks what he can get her.

Finally, Callie stands and shakes hands with the camera crew, waits patiently to have the mics taken off her clothes, and walks straight to me.

Good girl.

“You did so great,” I say as I fold her into my arms and hug her tight. God, I love the way she fits just perfectly.

“I was so nervous,” she admits with a sigh. “But my part is done.”

“You were great,” I repeat and tip her head up, my finger under her chin, to see her eyes. “You nailed it.”

She smiles and squares her shoulders, claiming her power back, and I can’t help but smile.

“What?” she asks with a grin.

“I love the way you shrug into your badass,” I reply before kissing her forehead. “And I love that I’m the only one who gets to see you when you take it off.”

“I—” She bites her lip and looks down, then just shakes her head. “Have a great set tonight.”

“What were you going to say?”

“It’s not important,” she replies before leaning in and pressing a kiss to my collarbone. “Break a leg.”

“I’ve never understood that sentiment,” I reply as I turn toward the stage. The bar is filling up. I’ll have a packed audience tonight. “We’ll finish that conversation later.”

She waves me off and walks away, and my eyes are drawn to the long, lean lines of her back and legs. Her ass is just perfect, and fits just right in my hands.

I can’t wait to get my hands on her later.

But first, I have to put on a show for the bar patrons and the cameras. But this is what I do best, so I’m not worried in the least.

I’m just ready to have tonight finished so Callie and I can leave for Seattle tomorrow. Three whole days, with Callie all to myself without business to see to, sounds like my idea of heaven.

***

“I’m kind of in love with this hotel,” Callie says as she checks out our suite at the Four Seasons Seattle. “I mean, look at this view!” She stands, face pressed against the floor-to-ceiling windows, and stares out at the Puget Sound before us. We’re in the penthouse, and not only can we see the water, but we can see a good portion of the city as well. “I bet it’ll be beautiful when it gets dark.”

All I can do is stand and watch, my hands shoved in my pockets, as she looks at everything as quickly as she can, as if she can’t decide what she should look at first.

“The tub is a freaking swimming pool!” she calls from the bathroom, then kisses me as she passes into the other portion of the suite. “Oh my God! There’s a baby grand in here!” She pokes her head around the diving wall and smiles at me. “We like those.”

“That we do,” I reply with a grin, picturing her spread before me the way she was on my piano a few weeks ago. I would not complain if she wanted to recreate that particular fantasy.

“This kitchen is ridiculous!”

I follow her and silently agree. The massive gourmet kitchen is a bit much for a hotel room, especially given that neither of us likes to cook and room service will be our source of nutrition, but it is a beautiful added touch to the space. Finally, she spins and leans on the breakfast bar, facing me. “I know I’m silly, like a little kid who’s never stayed at a hotel before, but I’ve never stayed in the penthouse before.”

“You’re not silly, you’re cute.”

She cocks a brow. “Cute?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I nod and circle around the island, and when she would turn to face me, I take her shoulders in my hands, keeping her still. “Do you know what else you are?”

She tries to look at me again, but I hold her still. “Stay.”

“You’re bossy.”

“I didn’t ask you what I am, I asked you what you are.” She’s in jeans and a big sweatshirt with the neck cut out so it falls over her left shoulder, showing me her bra strap and lots of soft, delicious skin. Before I begin, I unbutton and lower her jeans, nudging her to step out of them, but I leave the sweatshirt.

I’m going to have fun with that.

“I don’t know. What am I, bossy man?”

I grin and pull her loose blond hair back into a tail, tilt her head to the right, and lick, in one long motion, from her ear to the tip of her shoulder, then drag my lips back up the same path.

“You’re sexy,” I breathe. God, I love her neck. I scoop the hair that has escaped my hands out of my way and kiss and nibble the back of her neck, then over to the opposite side and pull the sweatshirt aside so I can taste her shoulder. “You’re delicious.”

She moans, and when she would tilt her head forward, I fist her hair and pull her head back, my grip firm, and kiss her cheek, then bite her earlobe.

“You’re every fantasy I’ve ever had.”

She fucking purrs as I push my hand into the neck of her sweatshirt and cup her firm breast in my palm. My cock pulses as her nipple puckers between my fingers.

I know she wants me to bend her over and fuck her here in the kitchen, but that’s not the plan. Not right now.

Instead, I continue to nibble and suck her shoulder, her neck, more forcefully now. Both of her breasts are tight with lust. Her left hand slips back to grab my ass, but I catch it and press it against the counter. “Hands off.”

“You’re doing all the work,” she whines, and only makes me smile against her shoulder where it meets her neck.

“Are you complaining?”

“No.”

I bite her now, hard, and gasp as she pushes her ass against my cock in surprise. She’s told me before that her neck is sensitive, and she wasn’t lying. She’s close to coming, and all I’ve done is touch her tits and ravage her shoulder and neck.

I drag my nose up her cheek, and then with my fist in her hair once again, I turn her head so my lips can reach hers and I kiss her like a starved man. Tongues tangle, bodies heave, breath is ragged, and finally I feel her whole body tense and she moans against my mouth as she comes.

I slow down, soften my touch as she comes down from the high, and when her breath has calmed, I right her sweatshirt and simply walk away.

“Oh hell no,” she says, her voice hoarse but determined. “You’re not going to give me neck sex, make me come, and then walk away.”

I turn to look at her and tilt my head. “I’m not?”

“No. You’re not.”

And there she is, the woman in control who knows exactly what she wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it. She turns me on every fucking time.

She marches to me, completely naked from the waist down because, God bless her, she doesn’t wear panties, and proceeds to push her hands against my chest and push me to a nearby chair, giving me no choice but to sit in it.

“I’ve been wanting to suck your cock for months,” she announces, making me almost swallow my tongue. “And you keep distracting me with your damn mouth and cock and your hands, and you’re not going to distract me today.”

“I think I just did a fairly decent job of distracting you,” I inform her and then hold my hands up in surrender when she simply glares daggers at me. “But I’m all yours. Do as you will.”

She licks her lips and unzips my jeans, frees my cock, and without any hesitation, takes me all the way into her mouth, sinking down until her nose hits my pubis.

“Jesus, Callie!” My hips come up off the chair, but she holds me firmly, adds her hand to her mouth, and works my cock expertly, moving up and down, alternating between firm and soft. Just when I think I’m going to explode, she lightens her touch, both frustrating the hell out of me and making me want to yank her up and fuck the hell out of her.

She hums and cups my balls, licks me from root to tip, rubs her tongue in the slit in the head, and then sinks over me again, repeating the whole damn process over again.

“I’m not going to survive this.”

She chuckles, and I notice that her shoulder is moving. Before my eyes cross, I glance down and see that she’s not only getting me off, she’s getting herself off at the same time.

“Mother fucker,” I groan, unable to hold my orgasm back. Between her magic mouth and seeing her pleasure herself, I’m done for. “Callie, I’m gonna come.”

Rather than back away, she hums her approval, and when I come in her mouth, she swallows, then leans back, a satisfied and proud smile on her face.

She moves to stand, but I stop her. “Don’t quit touching yourself.”

She tilts her head to the side, and with that smile still in place, she simply sits on her ass, spreads her legs right here on the hardwood, and runs her perfectly manicured fingers through her lips, pushes two inside her, then drags them up to her clit. It’s a circle that she keeps following, slowly.

She’s magnificent. Her face is flushed and goosebumps cover her arms. Her fingers are soaking wet from her pussy.

To my surprise, I’m already hard again, and I’m stroking myself while she watches, teasing her pussy, her lips, her clit. She puts her wet fingers in her mouth, licks them clean, then bites her lip as she puts on the show of a lifetime, and suddenly, she’s coming again. Watching the way her muscles tighten is fascinating. Her body quivers. She cries out, and I’m coming with her, not even caring about the mess I’m making.

We’re not touching, but this might be the most intimate moment of our relationship so far. Her blue eyes are lazy now as she catches her breath, watching me, and a slow, Cheshire cat smile spreads over her lips.

It’s in this moment that I know I’m lost to her, forever. She doesn’t just own my heart, she is my heart.

I love her.

***

“It’s early,” Callie pouts beside me the next morning as we walk from the hotel to the waterfront and Pike’s Market. “We’re usually going to bed right about now.”

“That’s an exaggeration, but it is early.”

“So why are we out of bed? We had room service and sleep and sex back at the hotel.”

“Because you’ve never been to Seattle, and I want you to experience it.”

She frowns. “Okay. Can I experience it with coffee?”

“That’s the first thing on my list,” I assure her and take her hand, link our fingers, and squeeze reassuringly. Three squeezes, to be exact.

I love you.

Our first stop is the original Starbucks where we load up on probably way too much caffeine, then I lead her through the market. It’s a little early yet, but vendors are already setting up their tables full of seafood, flowers, jewelry, just about anything you can think of. Callie is happy to slowly browse, stopping to taste some local honey, or accept a slice of apple.

A pair of earrings catch her eye. “We’ll take them,” I tell the man behind the table, who smiles and reaches for a box.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” Callie shakes her head and the man pauses with the box in his hand.

“Do you like them?”

“Of course, they’re beautiful.”

“Perfect.” I nod to the man and he continues boxing her earrings. I pay him and she takes the bag with a thank you, and fifteen minutes later, when she still hasn’t said a word, I decide to break the silence. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Thank you for the earrings.”

“You’re welcome.” We walk further, tasting oils and vinegars with cut-up bread, and then finally stand and watch the guys who throw the fish put on a show. I wrap my arm around her shoulders, but she doesn’t lean into me the way she usually does. “Spill it, sweetheart,” I murmur into her ear.

“You’re just a very take-charge kind of person,” she says, her eyes pinned to the fish flying through the air. “And that’s something I have to get used to.”

“It’s not a big deal. You like the earrings, so I bought them.”

“And I like the Seahawks so you brought me to Seattle,” she says with a nod. “You just—”

“I’m sorry if I crossed a line,” I say and drop my arm. Am I coming on too strong? I don’t see it that way. I love her, so I do nice things for her. It’s really that simple.

“I’ve never been taken care of,” she says softly and finally turns to look up at me. She takes my hand in hers and holds on tightly. “This is just new for me, and I’m not complaining, I’m just—”

“You’re adjusting your sails,” I finish for her, thinking of my father.

“What?”

“My dad used to say we can’t control the wind, but we can adjust our sails.” I lead her around the corner and sigh in bliss when I smell the tiny donuts being made. “So, you’re adjusting your sails a bit, and that’s okay.”

“That’s actually a really good way to put it,” she agrees with a nod. “But nothing is wrong. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Okay. Just tell me if I do, because I probably will, and I won’t even know that I’m doing it.”

“Fair enough. Please tell me we’re getting some of these donuts.”

I grin and nod, already salivating. “This is the only reason I come to Seattle.”

“You’re kidding.” She frowns as she watches the little pastries float in the cooking oil, then flop into the three-tiered cooking rack. “They’re just donuts.”

“You wound me,” I reply, my hand over my heart. “These are not just donuts. These are Pike’s Place Market donuts, and believe me when I say after you’ve eaten these, you’ll never be the same.”

“If you say so,” she says. I order enough for two large brown paper bags full, take one out, still piping hot from the fryer, and pop it in my mouth, then offer her one. She chooses a cinnamon sugar one, takes a bite, and stops in her tracks. “Oh my God.”

“I know.”

“I mean, it’s just… so good.”

“You’re welcome.”

“More.” She takes the bag out of my hands and digs in, bites into another and sighs, moaning as if she’s having really, really good sex.

“It’s a good thing I bought two bags,” I say with a laugh and open my own bag, but she reaches in and steals one. “Hey!”

“You took one of mine,” she says primly, licking sugar off her lips. “It’s only fair.”

I lean in and lick the sugar off her lips myself, then kiss her long and hard, right here for all of Seattle to see. “You can have all the donuts you want, sweetheart.”

“Good, because we might have to make a trip back there before we leave.”

“I was already planning on it.”

“This is why I keep you around.”

“Donuts?” I laugh and shake my head, leading her back toward the hotel where I plan to get her naked and in the enormous pool-size bathtub before we explore more of the city. “And here I thought you kept me around for my good looks.”

“Well, before this it was for your oral skills, but now it’s donuts.”

I stop on the sidewalk and stare at her in surprise, then I bust up laughing and pick up the pace to the hotel.

“Are you in a hurry?” she asks.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I want to hone my oral skills.”

“Oh!” She speeds up, passing me. “Good idea.”

Chapter Twelve

~Callie~

“Come on! Are you fucking kidding me? Learn to throw the damn ball, Montgomery!” I scream down to the field. “I can throw better than that!”

“Easy, tiger,” Declan says, pulling me back down in the seat.

“Did you see that?” I roar and glare down at Seattle’s quarterback. “I mean, what the hell?”

“This is fun,” Declan says calmly and finishes the last bite of his hot dog. We’re almost at the end of the fourth quarter of the game, and Seattle is up, but only by three.

“What’s fun? Watching the damn quarterback try to sabotage this game?”

He shakes his head and chuckles. “No, watching you lose your shit. I hope you never get mad at me. Actually, I take that back. You’re sexy when you’re on fire.”

“If he doesn’t start throwing like a damn professional, you’ll see an inferno.”

He just continues to smile, running his hand over my ponytail and down my back.

“I like your outfit,” he says as we wait for the commercial break to pass so the game can continue. “The team emblem on your cheek is especially hot.”

I look down at my 12th man jersey, with my favorite player’s name on the back, and grin. “I love this jersey. Thanks for buying it for me yesterday.”

“I admit, I had ulterior motives,” he says while he leans in and presses his lips to my ear. “I’m hoping you’ll wear it and nothing else later when I continue to practice my oral skills.”

“Is the game over yet?” I ask and glance at the scoreboard as Declan laughs and pulls his phone out of his pocket to check a text.

“I need to make a call,” he says and stands. “I’ll be right back. Are you okay?”

I’m soaking wet in the middle of a football game. What could be wrong?

“I’m great,” I say, my attention returning to the field as the players assume their position for the next play. “Come on, guys,” I mumble. “You got this. I came a very long way for this game. You can do it.”

I cross my fingers and hold my breath during the next play. They’re at the fifty yard line, directly in front of me. I don’t know how he did it, given that the home games are sold out for the season, but Declan got us some kickass seats.

Montgomery calls the play, the ball snaps, and he throws to my favorite player, Sanders, who catches it perfectly and runs it in for a touchdown.

“That’s right!” I scream and jump up, clapping. “Woohoo!”

Declan returns, also clapping and smiling.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

“Yep, nothing to worry about.”

I nod and grin at the field. There are only thirty seconds left on the clock, and unless there’s some miraculous act of God, Seattle is gonna win this game. With just a few plays, and Seattle’s defense killing Pittsburgh, Seattle is victorious.

Declan and I stay in our seats, waiting for the majority of the stadium to empty.

“Traffic is going to be a bitch as it is. We might as well just wait,” Declan says and fidgets with the neckline of my jersey. “Did you have fun?”

“It was great,” I reply and lean in, intending to give him a quick kiss, but it swiftly turns into a long, hot kiss, the way it always does where Declan is concerned. We don’t seem to do anything softly or gently. It’s always passionate. Eager. Hungry.

And I love it. I love that I can just be me with him. My sexual requests don’t seem to startle or repulse him. And when we’re together, just hanging out, we can talk about anything, or simply sit and enjoy the quiet.

We’re comfortable, in the best way.

He reaches down and takes my hand, giving it three squeezes. Finally, when most of the place is empty, we stand and he leads me up and out of the stadium and into the parking garage, where we can catch a cab back to the hotel.

But when we get inside, Declan rattles off an address I don’t recognize.

“Where are we going?” I scoot as close to him as I can and rest my head on his wide shoulder.

“You’ll see.”

In control, as usual.

“I’m not a huge fan of surprises, you know.”

“Actually, I don’t know that,” he replies and kisses my forehead, then turns to look out the window and into the already dark evening. We’re quiet as the cab maneuvers through the game traffic. My ears are still rushing from the noise, my throat raw from screaming. When the cab passes the exit to our hotel, I tip my head back and kiss Declan’s cheek.

“Where did you say we’re going?”

He smirks. “I didn’t. Don’t worry, you’ll like it.”

“I hope it’s not fancy,” I say before yawning widely. “I’m not dressed for it.”

“Not fancy,” he assures me and tips my head back, his finger under my chin, and kisses me sweetly at first, and then more deeply, as if he hasn’t touched me in weeks.

We drive outside of the city, where lights are fewer and fewer, making the dark settle in. We seem to be following the coast. The cab pulls off the freeway, and then turns onto a smaller two-lane road that meanders for a few miles before ending at a huge iron gate.

“Stop here,” Declan says and disentangles himself from me. “I’ll be right back.”

Before I can say anything, he jumps out of the car, walks to the speaker box and talks into it. The gate begins to roll away as he joins me.

“This is all very 007 of you,” I say, my curiosity piqued.

“It’s not that dramatic,” he says with a laugh as the cab pulls through and stops at the entrance of a beautiful two-story stone house. It’s craftsman in style, spread out and simply breathtaking.

I wish I could see it in the daylight.

I can hear the ocean not far away. “Are we near the beach?”

“Yes,” Declan says with a smile after he pays the cab and leads me to the door. “This house is on cliffs that sit above the Sound.”

“Wow.”

The door swings open and a pretty, small blonde woman smiles widely. A tall, slender, tattooed man is standing right behind her. He has a sleeve that runs down over his hand and to his fingers, and I’d recognize that face anywhere.

“Hi! I’m Samantha. You must be Callie. Declan has told us a lot about you. This is my husband—”

“Leo Nash,” I reply for her and feel myself blush. “Sorry. I’m a fan.”

“And I’m flattered,” Leo replies and shakes my hand. “Hey, Dec.”

“Hey,” Declan says and the two do the man-hug thing that I don’t understand in the least, as Samantha leads us all into the heart of the home: the kitchen.

“Your home is beautiful, Samantha.” I’m trying to absorb it all at once, and it’s impossible. The style is contemporary, with little pops of rustic and shabby chic thrown in here and there. The combination is both homey and eye-catching.

“Thanks. You can call me Sam,” she says with a grin. “We just finished building it about a year ago. I think we just about have it the way we want it.”

I nod, just as the doorbell rings, and rather than waiting for someone to answer it, the door is opened. “Hey guys! We’re here.”

“Oh good,” Sam says and all I can do is pray to God that I don’t have the stupid dog look on my face. Because Will Montgomery just walked through that door.

“Will, this is the friend I told you about, Declan Boudreaux,” Leo says. “And his girlfriend, Callie.”

“It’s good to meet you both,” Will says, shaking our hands. “This is my wife, Meg.”

I shake myself out of my stupor to see a beautiful redhead standing next to him. She’s rocking a boho chic style of clothing that I wish with all my might I could pull off. She also has tats on her arm, and she’s smiling kindly.

“I’m not a cook,” Sam warns us all as we congregate in the kitchen. “I didn’t want to risk killing any of you, so I ordered in from Palomino downtown.”

“And I picked up some cupcakes from Nic’s bakery,” Leo adds. “I helped.”

“Yes, you were an integral part of the process,” Sam says and rolls her eyes.

“Nic is our sister in law,” Will-mother-fucking-Montgomery informs me. “She owns a bakery in Seattle. And I hope you got a lot of them because I’m hungry as hell.”

“You’re always hungry,” Meg says and shakes her head. “Feeding him is the same as feeding a third-world country.”

“Best cupcakes in the world,” Sam says as she pulls warming dishes out of the oven and sets everything out in her gourmet kitchen buffet-style.

“I like your jersey,” Will says to me with a smile. “Except the wrong name is on the back.”

I’m beginning to relax now, not exactly sure how I feel about having dinner with a rock star and a football hero, but at least I can breathe.

Kind of.

“No, it’s not,” I reply and link my fingers with Declan’s as I lean against the kitchen island.

“It doesn’t say Montgomery,” Will says, as if I’m slow.

“No. It doesn’t. Sanders is my favorite player,” I reply with a laugh.

“What?” He covers his heart, as though he’s been stabbed and is dying a slow death. “This hurts.”

“Sanders is an excellent running back, and when you managed to throw the ball at someone on your own team today, he’s the one that ran it in for a touchdown.”

Silence descends on the room for several long seconds, and then everyone, including Will, busts up laughing.

“I like her,” Sam says, wiping tears from the corner of her eye. “She can stay.”

“Well, despite the abuse you’re slinging at me, I had the team sign the game ball for you today.” He jogs over to the entryway and returns with the ball, then passes it to me.

“Wow, thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Declan said you’re a big fan, so I thought I’d send you back to New Orleans with something special.”

“Thank you.” I grin, turning the ball in my hands, looking at all the signatures. Then I surprise even myself when I throw it over to Will, who catches it easily and throws it right back.

“Good arm. Looking for a job?”

“No.” I laugh and set the ball aside. “So how do you and Declan know each other?” I ask Leo. “I’m assuming it’s through music.”

“You’re right,” Leo says with a nod. “Declan helped write and produce several songs on a few of our albums.”

“Wow.” Stop saying wow. My gaze turns to Declan, who’s watching me with happy hazel eyes. “Impressive.”

“Hasn’t he told you who he’s worked with?” Meg asks, while loading up a plate. “I used to play with Leo, before Nash went nuts. He’s my brother. Well,” she clarifies with a shrug, “the closest thing I have to a brother anyway.”

“Who have you worked with?” I ask Declan, who just shakes his head.

“Lots of people.”

“Okay, he’s being modest,” Leo says with a grin. “I’ll tell you. He works with us, but he’s also worked with Bruce Springsteen, Adele, Coldplay, just to name a few.”

My eyes are trained on Declan, who won’t meet my gaze. If I’m not mistaken, he’s blushing.

He’s embarrassed.

“That’s something to be proud of,” I murmur and kiss his shoulder. “What do you do, Meg?”

Taking the focus off of Declan makes him relax, and I learn that Meg is a nurse at the children’s hospital and Sam is a magazine editor.

I love, love, that these women are married to important, wealthy men, but have maintained their own careers, their own identities. I have a lot of respect for Sam and Meg.

Dinner is delicious, but I can’t eat much. I’m too nervous and excited to eat. After dinner, Meg, Leo and Declan wander into the sunroom/music room off the kitchen to play songs and talk music.

Sam, Will and I are cleaning up from dinner, which is easy given that dishes go in the dishwasher and the food just needs to be recovered and put in the fridge. We take our cupcakes, Will grabs four of them—grumbling when Meg yells out that he can’t have six because other people want to eat them too—some coffee, and sit in the living room. We can hear the music and murmurs from the next room, but we can still talk.

“How did you meet him?” Sam asks right away and bites into a lemon cupcake.

“I own the bar that he plays in a few nights a week,” I reply and take a bite of my own chocolate cupcake, and just about die in ecstasy. “Oh my God, these are so good.”

“Best ever,” Sam agrees. “Nic is a genius when it comes to cake.”

“Nic is my new favorite person,” I say as I stuff the rest in my mouth, not even caring that I’m not by myself.

Will smiles proudly. “Atta girl.”

“I was just teasing earlier,” I say to him and shift in my seat. “You played a good game today. I really am a Seattle fan.”

“It’s okay, Callie. I played like shit today. I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

“Oh?” Sam asks with a raised brow. I’m still not sure how Sam and Will are connected, except through Leo and Meg, but something tells me that it goes deeper than that.

“Everything is perfect, and I’ll fill you in in just a bit.”

“Okay.” Sam nods and sips her coffee.

“Okay, I have to ask, and forgive me for being rude, but I am dying to know how all of you know each other. I mean, I know Meg said that she and Leo grew up together, but you’ve also mentioned a sister-in-law Nic.”

“Oh God, this is going to be confusing,” Sam says with a laugh and looks at Will. “You tell her.”

“I got this,” Will says confidently. “Sam’s brother is Luke Williams.”

“The movie guy?” I ask with surprise.

“That’s him,” Sam says with a nod. “And he is married to Will’s sister’s best friend, Natalie.”

“But like Leo and Meg,” Will continues, “Nat and Jules are more like sisters. I sure see her as a sister.”

“I also have another brother, Mark,” Sam says, “and he’s married to his high school sweetheart, Meredith.”

“Where does Nic fit in?” I ask, already confused, my head swimming.

“Nic is married to my brother, Matt,” Will says with a smile.

“Do you have other siblings?” I ask.

“Luke and Mark are it for me,” Sam replies and sits back into the deep couch, grinning at Will.

“Jules is the baby of the family, and she’s married to Nate,” Will says. “My oldest brother, Isaac, is married to Stacy. My brother, Caleb, is married to Stacy’s cousin, Brynna.”

“I’m so confused,” I cry out, but Sam laughs and shakes her head.

“He’s not done yet.”

“I also have a half-brother, Dominic, who is married to our event planner, Alecia.”

“This is a huge family.” I sit back and stare at them both, glassy eyed. “I thought Declan’s family was big, but that’s nothing compared to yours.”

“We are big,” Will agrees with a nod, then smiles and stands. “Follow me.”