Leah & Tristan’s bonus HEA

A Tropical “Babymoon” Getaway…

I wake to the faint sound of roosters crowing mixed with the gentle sound of the surf. I nuzzle closer to T.J., who stirs and pulls me closer. Even though we’re so far from home, I have everything I need right here.

“Maybe we should make it out of bed today,” he says, and kisses the top of my head.

“Why when we have room service?” I reply, and brush my fingertips down his arm. We arrived at our oceanside bungalow two days ago but have yet to leave the property. It was hard enough keeping our hands off each other during the long travel, and now that we’re here we’re making up for it. I thought I was insatiable before, but being pregnant has turned me into a sex machine. Or maybe T.J. and I are just getting really good at it.

He laughs. “What about our surf lesson?”

“That’s hours from now,” I say, and brush over his hip, where he’s warm and solid.

His cock stiffens against my thigh. “Hours, huh?” He shifts and kisses me, his lips so soft. He kisses down my neck, gently, each press of his mouth lighting up my skin.

He feathers between my breasts which have become so sensitive and ripe that they ache for him almost constantly. “I never knew you could look any more gorgeous,” he says, his eyes drinking me in.

I caress the pink, Y-shaped scar that runs down his chest. It’s slightly raised and uneven, but it just reminds me how brave he is. I pull him to me for a kiss, my tongue dancing with his.

He survived, and now we get to live our big, bold life together, following our passion while surrounded by the love of my family and the mountains we love so much.

When I found out I was pregnant four months ago, I wasn’t really surprised. Almost like I had already known. Maybe it’s a little soon, but T.J. and are ready to have all of our dreams come true. Why wait?

Vonnie cried she was so happy for us. She was the one who suggested this “babymoon,” and I’m so glad we’re here. Since gaining the conservation easement extension for Yankee Fork, we’ve been working nonstop to bring our dream of a ski hut trekking business to life. There’s a ton of red tape with the Forest Service, plus we’re planning the routes and where we’ll put the huts. When we return, we’ll be building four of them, which is a lot to do before winter hits.

T.J. takes one of my nipples into his mouth, his slippery, warm lips like silk. I’m so sensitive that I gasp and rock closer to him. He swirls and sucks, then does the same to the other one. I wrap my thigh over the back of his, tugging him closer. His hips give a little grind, pressing his hard, hot shaft into my belly. He could torture me like this for ages, and I would never get enough.

He brushes down my stomach, caressing the place where it seems like every day I’m showing just a tiny bit more. He loves to rub and kiss me here talk to our baby, and says he can’t wait for my belly to swell even more.

From outside our window, a bird calls from the trees and a gust of the sea breeze sifts the gauzy curtains, creating a dancing shadow in the low-lit room. It makes me feel dreamy and peaceful, yet T.J.’s touch is igniting that fire inside me that he knows how to stoke so well.

With one smooth caress, he feathers down and strokes my folds, his touch tender. I’m still sore from everything we’ve done since he carried me over the threshold, but in the best possible way. Gently, he parts my thighs and delves deeper, caressing and stroking while his mouth licks and swirls around my nipples. It takes me only minutes of these sweet pleasures together for me to give into him completely, coming softly, my cries blending with the sound of the waves. He kisses me, our mouths crashing together while I soar, feeling so free, and loved.

While my body is still buzzing, T.J. climbs between my thighs and slides inside me, slow and firm. I cry out because it’s exactly what I need. He withdraws enough that I give an anguished groan, and on his next thrust I wrap my legs around him, drawing him deeper.

T.J. kisses my neck as he arches in and out, his body moving with grace and strength. It’s easy to surrender to him and what feels so right. His thrusts get faster and harder. He nibbles my ear and whispers “I love you” over and over until his breath and his body are like one, melding with mine, and I come again, my body so alive that everything buzzes—my lips, my belly, my center, my breasts, my skin, my toes. There is no end to us and the love that we share.

“Tristan,” I gasp, and grip him tight as he comes, pulsing deep inside me.

We hold each other there, panting, the sounds of our breaths blending with the music of the surf.

Our shower is outside, and Tristan carries me there, kissing me softly as I nuzzle against him. The water is the same temperature as the tropical air and silky, and we hold and caress each other. I wash his body, and he lathers my hair and rinses it with such tenderness that I can’t help but want to kiss him all over. So I do, starting with the place behind his neck, then down his chest, making sure to kiss the place over his heart, sending it a message of gratitude.

Thank you, I say with my lips, for giving us this gift.

I keep going until I’m at the plane of his abs. Against my swollen breasts, his cock is stirring. I give it a soft stroke of encouragement. Tristan shudders. Hardens.

“Leah,” he says on an exhale.

I settle on my knees and kiss the smooth, round head, tasting his arousal. Water runs down his chest and over my shoulders, down my back, keeping me warm. I stroke him and kiss his thigh, his hip, until he threads his fingers into my hair.

“I need your mouth, wildcat,” he says, his voice edged with need.

I wrap my lips around his thickness, sucking just the head while stroking the underside of him. He shudders.

“Fuck,” he utters when I glide lower. He’s so firm and warm. I love making him feel good like this, of being able to focus completely on him.

Tristan’s core tightens and his legs tense as I glide up and down, his fingers locked in my hair. I stroke him and glide in tandem with my hand. He gets bigger, harder. I groan and he sucks in a breath.

“You ready for me to come, baby?” he says, his voice strained. His hips give little pulses in tune with my rhythm. I hum my reply. He thrusts harder but he’s careful, like he knows just how much I can take. I stroke and slurp, completely committed to giving him what he needs.

With a needy groan he slides firmly in and holds me there while he comes, filling my mouth. It’s salty and thick, and swallowing it makes me feel like a sex goddess. Tristan pulls me into his arms and holds me tight, his breaths fast in my ear and his heart hammering against my chest. I wrap my arms around him and savor this moment.

That afternoon, after our surf lesson with a guide at an empty beach, we rinse off with the hose outside the surf shack and walk back to our bungalow along the beach. Birds call from the trees and the surf pounds against the distant reef. We hold hands, our fingers entwined.

“You’re definitely a natural,” T.J. says. “How many waves did you catch?”

I laugh. “Ten? Twenty?”

He grins. “I think it was more than that.”

“You caught a few,” I say, swinging our hands.

“Too bad I kept falling off the dang board,” he says, stopping to examine a shell. It’s a small white one with cinnamon-colored polka dots. He tries to blow through the center like it’s a tiny trumpet, then tosses it into a tidepool. It makes a soft plunk and disappears.

“I think you have an advantage with junior there keeping your center of gravity lower,” he says, giving me a grin.

“Hear that, junior?” I say, rubbing my belly. “Together, we’re invincible.”

He comes behind me so my back is pressed into his chest, and places his hands over mine. The warmth from his touch spreads through me. I’m certain our little one can feel it too.

“Remember when you told me that everyone needs a tribe?” he asks.

A breeze from the ocean tickles my cheek. To our right, the sun is lowering toward the horizon, sending up pink daggers of cloud.

“Of course,” I say, and lean into him.

“I think it’ll be like that for us, with our family.”

“Yeah,” I say, as tears prick the corners of my eyes. “And we’ll have my brothers and sisters too, and their families.”

“We’re so lucky,” he says, kissing the crook of my neck.

Shivers race down my chest and pool in my belly. “The luckiest.”

We barely make it inside our bungalow before we’re touching and kissing again, an insatiable hunger driving us. Tristan makes love to me tenderly in the big bed with the sound of the crashing surf and the last of the sunset washing the room with candy-colored hues.

By the time our trip ends, I’m caught in a war of wanting to stay and feeling ready to go. Five whole days of complete togetherness and rest, with nothing on the agenda, has left me feeling sated and calm in a way I haven’t in a long time. Yet there’s exciting work to be done. And my surfing career was always intended to be short lived—thanks to my growing belly.

T.J. is so cute—insisting on carrying my bags and making sure I always have water so I can stay hydrated.

The travel home is an overnight flight, something I’ve done many times, but this one feels so strange because I can’t cuddle with T.J., something I’ve become accustomed to.

We land in L.A. at six a.m. and from there we fly to Boise, then Penny Creek. I’m still a little bit groggy when I step into the tiny airport, but seeing my whole family waiting for us is like a shot of adrenaline. Everyone’s cheering and smiling and I’m hugged a hundred times. Grady’s hug nearly makes me black out it’s so firm and my high five to Taylor gets me a million-watt grin. I get to nuzzle and kiss little Riley, snug in her front pack worn by Wyatt, and squeeze Vonnie so tightly she squeaks.

Sasha steps from the crowd to hug T.J, then folds me into his arms, rocking me back and forth for a long moment.

“You missed me, didn’t you?” he says, stepping back, his eyes glossy.

T.J. grins. “The trip was certainly quieter.”

“As it should be,” Sash says, lifting an eyebrow. “Though I hope not everything was quiet.”

I cover my laugh and shake my head at him. Same old Sash.

Vonnie glances toward the doorway to the parking lot, looking strangely flushed. “We should probably get out of here. We’re taking up the entire baggage claim.”

I glance around and though it’s true, I see something else that’s likely the cause of Vonnie’s sudden desire to flee: Noah Tucker, the sheriff’s deputy that she’s crushed on since he pulled her over when she was sixteen, is standing in the doorway of the airport, the afternoon light outlining his tall frame. I’ve tried to get her to just talk to him already, but she gets so tongue tied that she just avoids him. And never drives faster than the speed limit.

There’s also the little complication of his dad and our dad having some old rivalry. And even though our dad is gone, Sheriff Bill Tucker has made it clear that he’ll make life hard for our family whenever possible. He was especially hard on Caleb, back when he was a wild teenager. Now they have to work together professionally, but it’s not amicable.

T.J. frowns, but he’s quick to wipe it away. “Yeah, let’s go home.”

Our group files toward the exit. Grady and Caleb carry our bags like they weigh nothing, bantering about While Sasha and T.J. talk about the latest marketing ideas he’s working on part time for Rogue Valley Nomads, I link arms with Vonnie and lead her toward the exit.

“Are you still going to nanny for that family again this summer?” I ask.

She shakes her head sadly. “The kids are getting older, and the parents aren’t sure they need a full-time nanny anymore. I’ll babysit though.”

“What are you going to do?”

At this moment, we pass through the doorway. Noah is talking to the parking lot attendant, but turns, his clean-shaven face lit by the soft sunlight.

“Maybe work at the hospital. It would look good on my nursing school application. Or I could work with Annika at the Bear. It’s always fun.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Noah tracking us. Or maybe he’s tracking Vonnie. Vonnie seems to be working hard not to look at him as we pass.

“Maybe there’s another family you could nanny for,” I say, then remember something. Noah’s got a kid. I lower my voice and lean closer to Vonnie’s ear. “Or maybe a certain sexy single dad needs help.”

Vonnie’s face turns crimson. “Ohmigawd, Lee, don’t you dare.”

I laugh. “You know how I get.”

She gives me a rueful smile. “Unfortunately, I do.”

I turn back as we step from the sidewalk and cross to the row of cars. Sure enough, Noah’s still watching, though he’s trying to make it look like he’s not. He’s Wyatt’s age, or eight years older, but I’ve always seen Vonnie ending up with someone solid and dependable, either in age or life experience, and I’m betting Noah has both. Vonnie needs someone strong, who can make her feel safe and protected.

Excitement trills in my belly. Could that someone be Deputy Noah Tucker?

Will Leah get to play matchmaker with her twin and the sexiest single dad in Penny Creek? Find out in Falling for My Crush.