Hook Up: A Fake Dating, Brother’s Best Friend Romance
Hook Up: Epilogue

“Where is she?” I question Jillian, a permanent grin on my face.

Hey, I earned this smile. After returning from my injury, I won six of ten races. Not too shabby.

But that’s nothing compared to the real prize. Greer and our babies.

My wife was a trooper on the grueling race schedule, never once complaining, although I did often send her back to the suite to rest.

When the season ended, she flopped onto our bed and announced she wasn’t moving for a week.

I fully supported that plan.

Now, we’re making good on the promise to the parents—a wedding with all the trimmings, along with a bride who’s five months pregnant.

With twins.

Like I said, total trooper.

Although, judging by the exasperated look on Jillian’s face, Greer may be done playing nice. To be fair, Jillian is a week ahead of my wife, but Gigi claims it doesn’t count because she’s building two babies.

She wins.

In my book, she always does.

“She won’t come out of the bedroom without speaking to you.”

“On it.” Chuckling, I duck into the guest quarters at my mother’s house on Lake George, uncertain what to expect. Hopefully, I don’t walk out with a shoe lodged in my head. “Beautiful, you okay?”

“I will be.”

Turning, I let my gaze wander over Gigi’s curves. If I thought she was gorgeous before, she’s exponentially more so now. My wife stands before me, hands on hips, clothed in nothing but lace underwear and a sexy grin. “Look at you. Can you just stay like that?”

“I can, but we have to do something about you.”

Glancing down at my suit, I shoot her a smirk. “I think I look pretty damn good.”

“You do,” she responds, her fingers undoing the buttons on my shirt, “but you’ll look so much better naked.”

See why I love my wife?

“Do we have time?”

“Seriously?” Greer pouts, intent on the task at hand. “They can’t have a wedding without a bride and groom. And this bride needs servicing. Please.” She whispers the last word in my ear, her tongue gliding along the rim. Just like that, I’m rock hard.

The tux that took me an hour to put on is draped over a chair in less than a minute, and I’m bending my wife over the dresser, her gorgeous ass on full display as I sink balls deep into her heat.

Greer is desperate, arching her hips and grinding against me. But I maintain an easy rhythm, loving how her body quivers beneath my hands.

“You feel so good.”

“Not nearly as good as you,” I huff, as the spasms reverberating through her body trigger my own release. I press open-mouthed kisses to her nape, twitching as she squeezes around me, driving me, once again, to the brink. “That was the greatest wedding gift ever.”

With a giggle, Greer turns, claiming my lips in a fierce kiss. “Took the words right out of my mouth.” Glancing at the time, she sends me a wink. “Will you send Jillian back in? About time I put on my wedding gown.”

Ten minutes later, I slip from the guest quarters, sending my sister-in-law back in to dress my now sexually sated wife.

Like I said, life couldn’t get any sweeter.

All brides are beautiful. It’s true. They glow, the thrill of a life next to the person they love shimmering through every pore. But Greer? She’s next level as she walks toward me, escorted by her father.

Yep, her father. I forced my wife to sit down and hash things out with her old man because I know the feeling of not having that option. Turns out, they have a ton in common and although the scars remain, they’re forging ahead on a new path.

Mr. Hammond hands off his daughter, and I steal a kiss from Greer, even though I know I’m now wearing some of her lip gloss. Totally worth it. It also gives me another opportunity to nip her neck, catching that amber scent I love so much. If it wouldn’t be frowned upon for years to come, I’d strip Gigi down and have a replay of our earlier tryst. What can I say? Orgasms look good as hell on my woman.

After the ceremony, where we proclaim once again that forever really means forever, the festivities begin. I spared no expense on the party because you only get married once, or in our case, twice.

“Tell me again why you were late for your own ceremony?” Jillian asks, as Greer’s cheeks flame.

“I… I…” Poor Greer, the woman can’t lie to save her life.

“Don’t tell me you two were having sex before the ceremony.” Thank you, Jillian, for announcing that so loud the neighbors heard you—in the next county.

“What? He’s my husband. It’s pretty apparent”—Greer motions to her stomach—“that we’ve had sex.”

“Too much information,” Greg interjects, his face curled in a fake grimace. “I can’t believe you married my sister. What are the odds?”

I chuckle, toasting my brother-in-law. Soda, of course. “Hey, I told you when I was ten that my dream was to make Gigi my wife. I’m just damn lucky it came true.”

Greer wraps her hands around my neck, offering up a sweet kiss. “You are my dream come true.”

“Why can’t you say things like that?” Jillian demands of Greg, eliciting peals of laughter from the group.

“I know why,” Greer whispers in my ear. “Because there’s only one Ryder Gray, and he’s mine.”

Talk about perfect timing. As if on cue, the strains of our Otis Redding song fill the air, and tears mist in Greer’s eyes.

“May I have this dance?”

“You can have every one of them,” she replies, taking my hand as I lead her to the floor.

“How are you feeling?” Yes, I worry. Constantly. But it’s a perfect balance to my wife, the medical professional, who is more laid back about this pregnancy than any woman I’ve ever known.

“Perfect. I—” her voice cuts off, her hands flying to her belly.

See? This is why I worry. “What is it, Gigi? What’s wrong?”

A smile stretches across her face as she grabs my hands and places them against her stomach. “Looks like someone else is a fan of our song.”

There, by the shores of Lake George, I feel the tiny tap from inside her belly, and I sink to my knees, pressing kisses to her skin. “My babies.” Glancing up at Greer, I know the brightness in her eyes matches my own. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Waiting for me. Believing in me. Loving me. Giving me the greatest gift in the world. Take your pick.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Gray.”

Popping back to my feet, I claim that gorgeous mouth in a kiss. “Gigi, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”