Champagne & Forever Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  October 21

  Ben & Piper

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Jameson & Ashton

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Owen & Minnie

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Landon

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  The Wedding Day

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Preview of Spring Break

  About the Author

  Other books by Andrea Johnston

  Champagne & Forever

  (A Country Road Novella – Book 3.5)

  Copyright © 2017 by Andrea Johnston

  Cover design by Uplifting Designs

  Editing by Karen L. of The Proof Is in the Reading, LLC

  Interior design by Stacey Blake of Champagne Book Design

  Cover Photo: iStock

  Sale of the paperback edition of this book without its cover is unauthorized.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. No part of this publication may be stored or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form, or by any means.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, people – living or dead – is entirely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of various products, characters, businesses, artists, and the like which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  October 21

  Ben & Piper

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Jameson & Ashton

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Owen & Minnie

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Landon

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  The Wedding Day

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Preview of Spring Break

  About the Author

  Other books by Andrea Johnston

  For Kiersten

  Because life is better with good champagne and amazing friends.

  Wedding Day

  “Uhh . . . Ben?”

  I hear Landon calling me from the hallway bathroom. His voice is higher than usual and slightly panicked. I look over at my best man, Jameson, who slinks down in Piper’s reading chair, drinking straight from a bottle of Jägermeister while one of my groomsmen, Owen, looks at his phone, smiling. Neither of them seem interested in whatever Landon’s emergency is from the other room. I’ll be honest, going into the bathroom to see what Landon needs is low on my list of things to do today. I’m getting married in a little over an hour, and I’m more concerned with why this damn shirt is fucking twisted under my vest than anything else.

  “What’s up?” I ask, walking out of my bedroom toward Landon’s shouting. Damn this vest. I swear to God, if I didn’t love Piper and plan on making her Mrs. Sullivan in . . . fifty-eight minutes, I’d rip this damn vest off and burn it like some sort of sacrificial lamb. I stand in the doorway adjusting myself as Landon keeps his back to me, not moving, and looking toward his shoes.

  I follow Landon’s gaze to his feet and still don’t see the problem. No water on the floor, no trash spilled anywhere. Nothing out of the ordinary. Of course, we’re all dressed to the nines in these rented suits but otherwise, we’re just four buddies waiting for a party. I guess it’s a little more than a party, but still, other than the matching black suits and fancy ties—mine is silver, or shimmery gray as Piper called it, and theirs are a deep purple color to match the bridesmaids’ dresses. Yet, Landon continues to stand in front of me, like a damn statue.

  “Dude,” I say while finally giving up on this damn shirt.

  “Do you have something to say?” Landon asks as he turns to me with a six-inch piece of plastic hanging from his fingers. I notice he is using a piece of tissue to hold the thing between his fingers.

  It’s hours . . . okay, maybe seconds, between Landon asking me if I have something to say and me realizing what he’s holding in his hands.

  A pregnancy test.

  “Oh fuck!” My voice is not calm and it most definitely isn’t subdued. Nope. I fucking yelled that like we were in a large room and every person was hard of hearing.

  “What?” Jameson shouts from his perch.

  “Did you rip your shirt with all that tugging? Piper will kill you,” Owen warns. Don’t I know it.

  “Uh . . .” I’m not often at a loss for words, but right now? Yeah, I don’t have many. Before I can offer an explanation, I hear the gasps of horror behind me as both Jameson and Owen hover.

  “Not it!”

  “Not it!”

  Jameson and Owen shout in unison.

  “Fuck you guys!” Seems like a logical response from me to them on my wedding day.

  “Uh, guys? Who has an announcement to make?” Landon asks while completely calm, cool, and collected. Of course, he is. He’s fucking single and not possibly a dad.

  I could be a dad!

  I.

  Could.

  Be.

  A DAD!

  This isn’t the plan. Sure, it’s something we’ve talked about and the more I think about it, the less freaked out I am. Fuck it, I’m excited at the possibility. A million thoughts swarm my mind. What if the minute I make Piper my wife, I also find out she’s the mother of my child? The thought makes me smile like a goddamn cat that ate the canary. Fuck, this is it. This is everything I’ve wanted. To marry Piper Lawrence and make a family with her.

  “Shit,” Jameson says, rubbing a hand down his face. “I swear it was that one time. Goddammit.” I watch as he walks away and throws himself onto Piper’s reading chair in the corner. His dramatics indicate he’s been spending far too much time with my sister, Ashton, also his girlfriend.

  “I know I’ve wrapped it, plus Min is on the pill. We’re double covered. Like Madea would say, ‘Ain’t nobody got time for this shit,’” Owen declares like he’s calling out a new bill in Congress.

  “I’m not sure that’s what Madea says. But regardless, someone is pregnant, and the last people in this room were the girls.” I know this to be true because Piper and the girls were here Thursday night but stayed at Jameson and Ashton’s last nigh
t to make sure I didn’t see her before the wedding. And to keep Piper from going to full-blown bridezilla.

  That means either my fiancée, my sister, or one of my best friends’ girlfriend is pregnant. Really, if my sister is pregnant, it also means my best friend’s girlfriend is pregnant. Shit. This day just got a lot more complicated than any of us planned.

  A very Biper wedding this is—chaos, confusion, and a whole lot of love.

  A baby is coming, and we’re all going to change because of it.

  I love watching Piper sleep. Sometimes I wonder if I border on the line of creeper status instead of undying love. She is a sound sleeper, often waking in the same position she falls asleep in. Lying on her side, her hands are tucked under her chin, pulling her pillow into herself like she’s cuddling, and her knee lifted so, if she wanted to, she could knee me in the balls. Her face is void of makeup, and her freckles dance across her skin. I love watching her eyelids dance as she dreams, but it’s the way she smiles at me as she wakes that takes my breath away. Her expression is full of love and happiness. Well, and confirmation I am one hundred percent entering creeper status.

  “You are such a weirdo.” Her voice is raspy and unfiltered. I love it. My hand slides across her belly to her side. Slowly making my way up her sides to her breasts, I smile as I lower my lips to her neck. A nibble here and a lick there sends visible shivers across Piper’s skin.

  “I’m your weirdo, though.” My voice is equally raspy. I love this, how raw we are in the morning. Piper is uninhibited and unfiltered. Her thoughts are natural and without the worry or stress of our upcoming wedding clouding them. These moments, when it’s only us, they are what we’re about. The rest is just window dressing to the life we’re building. I’m grateful for our quiet mornings before the chaos begins. As elementary school teachers, we’re pulled in so many different directions each day, it’s a wonder we’ve managed to plan this wedding. In seven days this amazing woman will be my wife. Sure, it was a tough sell in the beginning, but I knew the minute I saw her: Piper Lawrence was going to change my life.

  Okay, so maybe not the first time I saw her.

  Or, for the next eighteen . . . or twenty years. Okay fine, I didn’t notice. Not because she wasn’t amazing or beautiful then. No, because I was a fucking jackass and completely blinded by things I didn’t know I needed. But here we are. Together and happy. Engaged.

  Piper turned my life upside down, and for that I’m eternally grateful. Her smile, her giggle, and her love of the ugliest leggings made me stop and evaluate my life over the past year. The night I saw her waving her arms like a maniac at Country Road, I knew I had to get to know her. The moment my lips met hers, that zing or zang, whatever people say you feel, was immediate. I had no way of knowing how much the feisty and animated beauty talking to my sister would change me and the course of my life.

  All for the better.

  Piper Lawrence is kind, smart, and beautiful, but above it all . . . she’s mine. I move my hand to her breast, thumbing her nipple as it hardens. I watch as she smiles ever so slightly as I rub light circles over the hardening peak. Before she can release the little whimper she grants me most mornings, I capture the nipple between my lips, flicking it with my tongue. Piper’s hands go to my hair and run through the too long locks before tugging. It’s why I keep it a little long—the tug.

  This is type of morning sex that doesn’t require me to play with her. I don’t need to slip my finger under her panties. I don’t need to flick her clit, and I don’t need to lick my way down to her sweet spot. No, this morning Piper is ready for me. Like so many others in the last ten months we’ve lived together, I’m able to simply tug her panties down and push into her. I feel her walls tighten as she captures me, her hands pull me closer as I grip her hips and pull her to me, thrust by thrust.

  “Oh . . . my . . . gawd . . . Ben . . .”

  I love hearing her struggle for words. It fuels me as I quickly, too quickly, bring her with me to the edge. Swiftly, and with the precision of a man who knows how to make his woman explode, I pump once then twice before Piper arches her back and I feel her grip me like a vice. I immediately follow, my moans loud and animalistic.

  “Mmm, good morning,” Piper coos as she kisses me gently on the lips and smiles, her eyes still closed.

  “Morning, baby.”

  I pull from Piper and plant a quick kiss to her lips before smacking her on the ass as she rolls to her side, pacified. I tread into the master bathroom and turn on the shower. While the water warms, I toss a towel toward Piper; it lands on the bed in front of her. She smiles, never opening her eyes, and pulls the towel under the covers and between her legs. I’m stepping in the shower when I hear her shout something about coffee and breakfast. Her words are muffled as I lean my head under the water.

  After breakfast, Piper and I handled a few house chores before packing our bags for the night. With our wedding taking place on our property, there is a little chaos around the house. My man cave, originally a formal dining room, has been transformed into a staging area for all things wedding. I’ve seen more of my mom and Piper’s mom in the last three weeks than the last six months combined.

  When we decided to keep the wedding small and intimate and more of a party than anything else, I didn’t realize how much work would go into it. Some days I think I should have convinced Piper to elope to a tropical island somewhere. We’d already be married and lying in the sun if I had my say. But, I don’t. I’m the groom, and I live to make my bride happy. She wants a wedding, and a wedding we will have.

  My dad has been working on the arbor we’ll stand under for the ceremony for a few months. He hasn’t let either of us see it, but my mom promises it’s beautiful and when the wedding is over, we will be able to put it in the garden where Piper has a little table and chairs set up. A table and chairs nobody sits on. I don’t ask. Again, whatever my bride wants.

  “Babe, do you know where my anti-frizz serum is?”

  “Piper, why would I know where that is? I don’t use hair products.”

  “Ben.” She sighs. It’s a sweet sigh with a smile as she approaches me. Once her hands wrap around my waist, I mimic her move, tug her to me, and lower my lips to hers. After a few dozen kisses that leave her panting, I pull away and allow her to continue speaking. Instead, Piper stands before me, her eyes closed and her lips lifted to a smirk.

  “You had something to say, babe?”

  “Huh? Oh, yeah. How do you do that?”

  “What’s that?” I ask as I walk to the refrigerator and pull out a bottle of water, opening it and quickly finishing half of it off in one gulp.

  “Kiss me stupid. I know I had a question, but you do that and I forget my own name.”

  “Piper Sullivan.”

  “Gosh, I love when you say that.” Piper walks up to me and steals the bottle of water from my hands, taking her own sip before handing it back to me.

  “Only seven days. Anyway, you were asking about hair products. I don’t know where any of that is, but if it’s a serum, my sister probably has it. Witchy powers and all that,” I tease.

  Piper smacks my arm, which causes me to fake a flinch and turn my back toward her as though I’m protecting myself. “Be nice; that’s my best friend you’re making fun of.”

  “Oh, come on. If I can’t make fun of my own sister, what’s the point of having her? Besides, you know she’s been a little on edge lately. More so than usual. Are you sure we should’ve asked her to sing at the wedding?”

  “We didn’t ask; she offered. It’s her gift to us, and I can’t think of anything better than hearing Ashton sing our wedding song to us. Even thinking about it makes me misty-eyed,” she says, waving her hands in front of her face. “Dammit. I don’t know why I keep crying.”

  “It’s okay,” I say, pulling her into a hug. I rest my chin on top of her head as she sniffles. “I love your hormones. As long as they’re more like this than the crazy lunatic Ashton has been the last few we
eks. And, don’t get me started on Minnie. I saw her and Owen at the grocery store the other day and he looked scared to death. The entire cart was chocolate and chips. Poor guy.”

  “Hey, those are my friends you’re mocking. Be kind, Bentley Sullivan.” Piper mock smacks me on the chest as I chuckle and tug her back into my chest, wrapping my arms around her.

  “I’m sorry, baby. You’re right. But I thought that whole, chicks syncing up was a myth. I guess it’s not. Speaking of, when are J and Ash supposed to be here? I’m ready to go up to the lake.”

  “Sounds like they just pulled in. I need to finish packing. Will you send Ash upstairs?” She asks pulling away from me.

  “Sure thing, baby. Go on.”

  Piper takes my water from my hands again, but this time doesn’t hand it back. Instead, she takes it with her up the stairs to our room leaving me standing here alone. This is our bachelor and bachelorette weekend. The guys are taking me to Jameson’s property to fish, have a bonfire, and drink too much whiskey. The girls have planned an afternoon at a spa and a night of sushi and cocktails before they go back to Jameson and Ashton’s house for a sleepover. Knowing the three of them, the sleepover is only an excuse for gossip and more cocktails.

  Two quick knocks at the door signal Jameson and Ashton have arrived before I hear the screen creak open. Let the fun begin.

  Where is my damn anti-frizz serum? I swear I’m losing my mind. The other day, I called one of my students Tommy three times. There is no Tommy in my class. I’d blame it on lack of sleep, but I’ve been doing nothing but sleeping lately. I’m so freaking tired. This wedding is killing me. I thought I had it all figured out three months ago, but in the last few weeks it’s all come to a head, and I realized there’s a lot of work that goes into even a small gathering of friends and family.

  I hear footsteps on the stairs while I’m on all fours on the floor, looking under our bed for my missing hair product. Sure, a sane person wouldn’t think to look here for something that should be in the bathroom. But I found the remote control in the fridge the other day, so I’m not assuming anything at this point.