Three Little Words (#dirtysexygeeks Book 4) Read online

  Table of Contents

  AT A GLANCE

  Dean + Sam

  Dark Willow + Faith

  Spock + Uhura

  Oliver + Felicity

  Spike + Buffy

  Bucky + Steve

  Snape + Lily

  Sherlock + Molly

  Dean + Castiel

  Damon + Elena

  Liv + Fitz

  Romeo + Juliet

  Jack Frost + Elsa

  Hawkeye + Black Widow

  River + Doctor

  Holmes + Watson

  Belle + Mr. Gold

  Elliot + Olivia

  Buffy + Angel

  Derek + Stiles

  Misty Knight + Her Arm

  Spike + Fred

  Zoe + Wash

  Myka + H.G. Wells

  Damon + Bonnie

  Jack Harkness + Missy

  Iris + Barry

  Rachel + Joey

  Weevil + Veronica

  Elizabeth + Mr. Darcy

  Mulder + Scully

  BIO

  CAST LIST

  Other Titles by Melissa Blue

  COPYRIGHT

  AT A GLANCE

  WEBSITE|FACEBOOK|NEWSLETTER

  Other Titles by Melissa Blue

  UNDER THE KILT SERIES

  Under His Kilt

  Her Insatiable Scot

  Kilted For Pleasure

  Kilt Tease

  Scot Appeal

  #DIRTYSEXYGEEKS SERIES

  To One Hundred

  Down To Ash

  Bluest of Blue

  Three Little Words

  BLURB

  “We need to talk.”

  There’s only one reason a woman says that three months after a one-night stand. She’s pregnant, and she plans on keeping the baby. Porter can handle that — he’s always planned on being a father, and doing better at the job than his own dad ever did. Sure, he's always envisioned the wife then kids, but he's used to fixing things that are broken.

  Unfortunately, this isn’t just any woman. She’s his sister’s best friend: Iris. And three months ago, she wasn’t looking for anything from him but his body, and it’s all she wants now.

  Porter has always wanted the real deal, and he’s starting to think he could have it with Iris, if she’d just bend enough to let him in.

  But Iris has learned one thing in her life: you can’t bend for anyone, because once you start, you won’t stop til you break.

  Dean + Sam

  FEBRUARY

  Live long enough and hell will freeze over.

  Fitting, as Porter Hicks sat in one of the church’s side rooms waiting for his best friend to marry his sister. So very fitting as chaos surrounded him. Chaos that started with a cummerbund.

  Porter knew better than to jump in when his friends were bickering. Sooner or later someone would mention this was Ashley’s day—her wedding day—and the fighting would stop. Until that happened, he scrambled the Rubik’s cube he’d brought to keep his mind on shit that no longer mattered. Like the fact his life was a fucking mess he didn’t recognize. Like the fact his sister had grown up on him. She didn’t need him to protect her anymore. If he was honest, she had probably never needed it.

  Even today, all she required of Porter was for him to sit in a corner and be dressed when their mother checked in. His mother had wrangled the Goon Squad into a semblance of well-behaved men more than once.

  Then he’d walk his sister down the aisle. Their father wouldn’t. He couldn’t make it. Sorry piece of shit.

  Porter rolled his neck, letting the thought go to concentrate on the cube. Lazily he solved the white side, because there were still thirty minutes before the wedding began.

  A knock sounded against the closed door. All the men fell silent. Since Victor, the groom, stood the closest, he cracked it open.

  “Don’t you look nice.” The woman’s voice raised the hairs on his nape.

  Porter stiffened, his senses zeroing on the way the woman sounded—sweet, yet somehow sarcastic and completely feminine. Iris stood at the door. His sister’s best friend, and she had his full attention.

  Victor shifted in the doorway, still blocking the view of her. “Is something wrong? Where’s Ashley?”

  “Ashley’s...Ashley’s summoned her brother. I’m here to get him.”

  All eyes turned to him including Victor’s. That small move brought Iris into view. Had he known all the times his sister described the “Grecian gowns but with pockets” would turn Iris into a sexpot, he’d have paid more attention. One strap of material went over one shoulder while the rest of the top cut across her breast. Enough cleavage peeked out it took him a second to meet her gaze. Her brown eyes were hard as she glared at him.

  She was...beautiful. He’d known that on some level. For five years he’d seen her in passing, usually waving to Ashley as they went their separate ways after work, and when he’d dropped by to check in on his sister.

  Iris had seemed sexy and aloof, especially with the way her gaze would slide right over him after a perfunctory nod of acknowledgment.

  He hadn’t minded the brush off. He preferred no contact with any of Ashley’s friends. Fucking friends led to complications and sometimes broken families.

  Fucking irony given it was his sister and best friend’s wedding day.

  “Are you coming or what?” Iris asked, dragging his mind back to the moment.

  He pushed out of the chair, stuffing the cube into his pocket. He caught Victor’s stare. His friend’s reassuring smile deepened the sharp slope of his cheeks and eyes. His friend looked happy. The emotion should have been enough to ease the tension vibrating in Porter’s body, but this was the man his sister had chosen to spend the rest of her life with. Did they not know how wrong shit could go?

  He swallowed that down and focused on Iris. “I’m following your lead.”

  Iris took him down the hallway then stopped. “We have a problem.”

  “And that is?”

  “Your sister’s...MIA.”

  He couldn’t have heard her right. “Say that again?”

  “How do I put this?” She pressed her hands together and put her fingertips to her chin. “Ashley put on her wedding dress, told us she needed a moment to get some air, and now I can’t find her.”

  Porter did his best to process that, and he couldn’t. “You’re standing here, telling me you let her out of your sight?”

  Her face flushed. “I didn’t think I’d have to hunt her down.”

  He scrubbed a hand down his face. “For fuck’s sake.”

  “Where could she be?”

  “I’ll deal with it.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “I don’t think you’re the person for the job. Just give me ideas where I can find her, and I’ll bring her back.”

  Her answer wasn’t a surprise. Porter had been...a dick. An epic dick. Some would say an unforgivable dick. He’d taken every bit of anger he had and directed it at his sister after he found out about her relationship with his best friend. Ashley had forgiven him, eventually.

  Iris had not. A little more than a year since the….incident, and still she’d given him nothing but shit since the wedding rehearsal. Apparently the wedding day would be no different.

  Did he deserve her rancor? Most definitely. Would he do his best to fix their rapport? Yes, because Porter fixed things.

  “You know,” he said, “at some point today you’re going to forgive me.”

  She put up her hands. “Nope. Never. Not likely. Let’s not forget I just told you your sister has gone MIA and you’re thinking with your dick.”

  “Not solely.” he said, being honest. “I c
an multitask.”

  Her snort sounded more like a laugh, and he filed it away for later, turning the urgent problem over in his head. Anyone else might have flipped the fuck out, but Porter always tried to see five steps ahead. He did his best to keep his composure. He succeeded ninety percent of the time. It was the other ten percent that often gave him problems.

  But this problem? They were at his mother’s home church. After their parents’s divorce, him and his sister were forced to go every Sunday for services and every Wednesday for Bible study. He’d been eighteen, but he’d had lived under her roof for the next year before he got his own place. He was eighteen and living at home because their father had been fucking his mom’s best friend. That ripple had turned into a tsunami for their family, their life.

  The point being he knew his sister. No matter how much Porter hadn’t looked forward to Victor and Ashley getting married, his sister loved his best friend. “I’ll deal with it.”

  “I don’t trust you.”

  He didn’t bother to ask why. “Then why did you come and get me?”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Desperation.”

  For that answer, he wanted to kiss her. “Iris, before the day is done, you’re going to like me.”

  “Hold your breath while you wait for it.”

  “While I’m dealing with Ashley, I need a favor from you.”

  “Nope.”

  He laughed. “Victor’s family isn’t big on traditions, except for one.”

  “Dammit.”

  Confused, he asked, “What?”

  “I’m going to say yes. I wanted to tell you to fuck off in about five different ways, but you’re being nice. I guess it had to happen at least once every hundred years. What’s the favor?”

  “Victor has been waiting for the right moment to give my mother a wooden goose.”

  She jerked her head left and right. “A wooden goose? I’m missing the significance.”

  “It’s a...gesture. Wild geese mate for life. He wanted to wait until the reception, but if you distract them with it now, no one will be the wiser Ashley has gone rogue.”

  Her mouth formed into an ‘o’. “That’s kind of smart.”

  “Is that a compliment, Iris?”

  “Backhanded one at best.”

  He turned to go and she grabbed his arm. He faced her. “Is this the part where you tell me I’m a piece of shit?”

  “I could, but I’m begging you to be gentle when you find her. I know her like the back of my hand. She wouldn’t have left like this if she wasn’t upset.” She breathed, sounding frustrated. “The only reason I’m not following you is that—I don’t see it—but you’re kind of her hero.”

  Ashley’s hero. Anyone else hearing that and pride would puff up their chest. Shame filled him. “I’ll bring her back. You distract everyone as best as you can. If Oliver wakes up, scatter. He’ll know you’re bullshitting. Keep an eye out for Wade, too.”

  “Got it.” She dug into a pocket on her dress, pulling out her phone. “You have twenty minutes to save the day.” She shook her head like she couldn’t believe what she was doing. “In case whatever you say doesn’t work...”

  He frowned at Iris. She lifted her dress up to her thigh. A garter flashed, and that made him dizzy for a moment until he recognized the metal container strapped to her leg. He was really starting to like Iris.

  “Seriously?” he said.

  Iris slapped the flask into his hand. “I’m going to want that back.”

  He popped the cap and took a quick swig. His breath got knocked out. “What is this?” he wheezed.

  “Moonshine.”

  “You just carry around moonshine, under your dress?”

  “I figured my friend might need it. She’s getting married, her brother is...” Iris curled her lips and forced a smile to her face. “Never mind. Pour it down her throat if you have to. She’ll regret it if she walks away.”

  “On that, we can agree.”

  He whirled on his heel and walked out of the church. The playground was a two minute stroll, a few blocks away. As he’d expected, Ashley was on the swings. Her pale gold wedding dress fluttered in the wind as she kicked her legs back and forth.

  She’d forgone a veil, which was probably a good thing. She leaned back to propel herself harder, and the updo almost touched the ground. Her smile was broad. Her laugh reached him even with the distance. He could see the tomboy he’d grown up beside under the makeup and gown.

  She was beautiful and grown and had never looked happier. She caught sight of him, her smile remaining. She dragged her heels in the bark to slow down. “Your face tells me I look wonderful and so damn ready to get married.”

  “Cute. You freaked your friend out.”

  “Iris?”

  “Yeah. Iris, your friend who wants to gut me.”

  Ashley snorted. “That’s on you. You shouldn’t have acted like an ass. She hasn’t forgotten that.”

  He waded into the bark that filled the playground. He’d find pieces attached to his dress socks later. He and his sister had gone here so many times over the years. So often when their mother had fallen into church to find salvation, a balm to the devastation their father had left behind when he’ cheated on her then left. Left them too.

  He bent down in front of her. “We can act like you coming here is no big deal or you can tell me.”

  Ashley turned her gaze to the street. It was quiet for a Saturday. No kids were on the playground, yet. She rested her chin on her hand. “I got fully dressed, had my make-up all ready and then I thought about how Dad isn’t here. I thought about all the times he hasn’t been. My mind listed all the times I reached out to him, full of forgiveness, hoping this time he’d give a shit.” Her bottom lip trembled. She bit it before saying, “Why can’t he love us?”

  This moment was why he took on the role of big brother seriously. Shit, it’s why he’d come to her wedding and agreed to walk her down the aisle. He never wanted her to feel unloveable again.

  “Look at me,” he said.

  She sniffed, lifted her chin and met his gaze. “I know what you want to say.”

  “Fuck him.”

  She smiled though her eyes still glistened. “Not what I was expecting.” She rested her chin on her hand again. “Doesn’t make me feel better, and that’s not the sole reason why I’m out here. It was time for me to put away childish things. I’m getting married in a few minutes.”

  “And this seemed like a good time to go for a swing?”

  “Mom was getting her make-up done and not paying attention to me.”

  That was one hundred percent Ashley. She did what she wanted. Over the past year she’d been more mindful of her choices, but she’d always be impulsive, a little sneaky and full of love.

  He rose and sat in the swing next to her. “Bet I can go higher than you.”

  “If I mess up my dress mom is going to sigh. If you mess up your suit, I’m going to throttle you. We have pictures after this.”

  “She’ll blame me either way.”

  She grabbed hold the chain on his swing. “She shouldn’t.”

  “But she will.” He shrugged. “We can see who can get higher the fastest and head back.”

  Ashley’s sigh sounded long-suffering, but he ignored it. She said, “Don’t you ever want to misbehave, Porter?”

  “I think you’ve got that covered for the both of us.”

  “Or do you ever get an inkling to say screw the rules? I mean, jaywalk. It won’t kill you.”

  Rules were why his world had collapsed in on itself. His sister had a point. He leaned back, forcing the swing in motion. “Fuck it. Let’s swing.”

  “It’s a first step,” she said, “but you’re going to lose.”

  “Hell if I will.”

  It didn’t take her long to catch up. Took even a shorter amount of time for her to beat him. He dragged his feet in the bark. A light layer of dust covered the shiny black leather. His socks were also a mess. �
��Mom’s going to be so pissed.”

  “I haven’t killed her with my antics yet. She’ll live.”

  He faced Ashley. “Are you ready now? If not, I can always help you escape.”

  She rose from the swing, her dress rustling with the movement. She took his face in her hands. “I love him, Porter.”

  Yeah. That he knew. If the past year had taught him nothing else, it was Victor and Ashley were in it for the long haul. “I know.”

  “And I love you, Porter. So be a good brother and give me away.”

  He could still see the sadness in her eyes. “Dad’s a dick.”

  “You assume even if he was here, I’d want anyone else to give me away.”

  “Shit.” His throat tightened.

  She grinned. “Thought that would gut punch you right in the feels. Come on. I’m ready.”

  He bent down and brushed his lips across her forehead. “You’re a pain in my ass.”

  She threw her arms around his shoulders and hugged him like she used to, back when their world had been simple. Before his father walked, and Porter had to be the man of the house. A man who lived by the rules, and raged out on anyone who broke them.

  He held onto her for as long as she let him.

  Dark Willow + Faith

  With a long sigh, Iris placed her hand in Porter's and stepped into his embrace as the music filled the hotel’s banquet room. Only a handful of people were on the floor—all from the wedding party. Ashley and Victor were perched at the head table watching their friends and family play nice.

  Play nice, she emphasized as a reminder.

  Porter’s hand slid down her back and stopped at her tailbone. She shook off the shiver and glared up at him. He smiled. Either he was the most well-adjusted man who ever lived, or he knew his flirtatious smile pissed her off.

  Play nice, dammit.

  Iris dug into her reserves and tried. Really hard. “I swear, if I see one rendition of that messed up running man, I'm clocking people with my purse.”

  “Nice to finally meet the real you, Iris.” His laugh slid into her, warm and smooth, as he set them off to a slow rock.

  A flash came from her left—the photographer had caught the laugh on film. It would be a good picture. Porter was handsome, she guessed, if she had to give him any kind of credit. If she didn't kind of hate him, she might even say Porter was fine as fuck. He had thick lips, brown skin, sloped cheekbones. A barber must have cleaned up the scruff along his jaw since it hadn't morphed into a beard, but everyone knew scruff was better anyway.