Baby, What the Hell... (AU,M/L,ADULT) IMP A/N 12/09/04 [WIP]

[Deejonaise]

Title: Baby, What the Hell Are We Gonna Do Now?
Author: Team Dee-Licious
Category: AU M/L + Ca/Ch
Rating: Uh... no need for this, right? ADULT
Disclaimer: The characters of Roswell belong to The WB, Melinda Metz, and UPN. Cameron Evans and Channon Davis are the sole property of Lindsay and Dee.
Summary: Sequel to My Life as a Teenaged Superhero and You and Whose Army?.
Author’s note: If you haven't read the above-mentioned fics...this isn't gonna make sense. Do the smart thing people...just click. Thanks to babylisou for the mahvelous banner below. We lurve it, Ann!

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Baby, What the Hell Are We Gonna Do Now?


<center>Prologue</center>

~Liz~


I haven’t slept in three days.

Of course, this is what being a new mother means. And when I look down into Lindsay’s wizened little face it all seems worth it…er…or at least it would if I was operating on two hours of sleep. Right now I’m so tired I could cry.

Still, this moment, this very second is coveted like Tut’s finest treasures. Lindsay is curled so small and secure in her baby bed, her knees tucked beneath her belly while she gums her fist for all its worth.

She looks like her daddy but Max says he doesn’t see it. Of course, at a mere two months old, Lindsay has already got her father wrapped firmly around her tiny fist. I’m pretty sure I’m going to have some serious competition for her daddy’s affection, but I’m rather elated by the idea than threatened. Seeing Max interact with his daughter is, quite possibly, the most beautiful thing I’ve ever witnessed.

But she’s asleep now…thank God. Who knew that someone so small could create so much work? I creep away from her bassinet and eye the bed with a longing stare. Only two more weeks before Spring training ends for Max and then I can finally have a semi-break.

Right now he’s at practice from nearly sunup to sundown and when he returns home he’s beyond exhausted. I’m used to the hectic schedule now but when he was first drafted by the Saints the arrangement caused a bit of friction between us. I hated his schedule, I hated that he was on the road so much. I remember how I used to tell him that I passed up London so I could be with him, not see the back of his head. Those were some stressful days but I think we’re stronger because of them.

For the present, I continue in my Superhero travails and try not to become too frustrated with Max’s frequent absences. It could be worse, I guess. I could have one of those husbands that fall to the lure of road groupies. Fortunately for me, my dear hubby has eyes for only one woman. Well…er…two now that Lindsay’s here. Still I’ll be damn happy when my trusty sidekick is back at home and can assume the helm because…

…I’m in dire need of a break.

I’m drifting towards the bed on winged feet, daydreaming of at least a solid hour of sleep, when the telephone rings to life. I make a mad dive for it, my only goal to stop the sound before it wakes the baby. Unfortunately in my diligence I crash breast first into the mattress, which doesn’t feel too good at all. Sharp pain reverberates through my milk-laden breasts and I have to bite my tongue to keep from cursing. Stifling my groan of pain as well as offering up a silent prayer of thanks for breasts pads I grunt a mumbled hello into the receiver.

“There’s a problem with the dresses,” Channon informs me in a mild panic without the benefit of a hello. I forgive her because I know she’s just a pant away from a nervous breakdown.

“Huh…what’s going on now?” I yawn.

“Did I wake you?” she asks contritely, sensing the grogginess in my tone.

I almost laugh at that. “No, I’m good,” I reassure her on another yawn, “You know since Lindsay was born I never sleep. What’s wrong with the dresses?”

“They’ve apparently misplaced yours and Taylor’s,” she says, panicked, “What am I going to do? My wedding is in two weeks and the dressmaker’s lost two of my bridesmaids’ gowns. What if they’re not found by the time you and Max come down? I’m freaking out over here.”

I grin over her frazzled tone, well remembering the days of my own wedding plans and how convoluted things had gotten. If not for my sister-in-law, who happens to be a whiz when it comes to planned functions, I might have snapped. As it was I had to daily talk myself out of merely running away with Max to elope. The headaches were all worthwhile though. Max and I had a beautiful ceremony.

“The important thing is not to panic,” I tell her calmly, “Does the dressmaker have any idea what could have happened to them?”

“She says they sent them out with the wrong client,” Channon laments, “But if that’s so wouldn’t they have called by now? This is just crazy. First the jeweler got the ring sizes wrong, then the colors for the tuxedos got botched, then the caterers flaked out on us, and now this! Is somebody trying to tell me something?”

I let her have her little freak out, knowing she needs the opportunity to vent. In the years I’ve known her I’ve come to learn that Channon Davis is by nature an extreme pessimist. Growing up in the household she did, I’m not surprised. She expects things to go wrong. In a strange way the attitude serves as a defense mechanism for her. If she doesn’t expect the best then she won’t be disappointed when she doesn’t get it. Odd logic, to be sure, but somewhat endearing as well.

“Channon, you have to pull yourself together,” I advise, folding myself up against the headboard, “This wedding can’t happen if you have a nervous breakdown, okay?”

“Uh-huh. No nervous breakdowns.”

“Listen, why don’t you let me haggle with the dressmaker, okay,” I offer, even though in the back of my head I know I’m the one who’s going to have a nervous breakdown by taking on the task, “Give me the number. You just focus on your day. I’ll worry about the little details.”

“I really don’t feel right asking you to do that, Liz,” she whispers mournfully, “I feel like such a tater calling to you for help at all when I know you’ve got your hands full with the new baby and everything, plus you’re two states away…”

“Who else are you gonna ask?” I wonder, “I know that Julie, Isabel, Diane and Taylor must be up to their necks by now. Besides you’re not asking me…I’m volunteering.”

“I didn’t call to drag you into the middle of my wedding from hell,” she mutters, “I just…needed a sounding board. I didn’t want to talk to Taylor or Julie because I didn’t want to seem like an ingrate. They’re working so hard.”

“Chan, what you’re feeling is perfectly normal,” I reassure her, “You don’t have to feel ashamed or unworthy.”

I’m well aware of how leery Channon is of letting her guard down. Ever since the Evanses unofficially adopted her after her mother left Channon has been very careful of herself, almost as if she’s afraid that by doing or saying the wrong thing they would leave her as well. It’s taken quite a bit of patience, love and understanding to convince her that she’s part of the family but even still she has her moments. Consequently, I’ve appointed myself as a surrogate big sister that way she can come to me about the things she thinks she can’t discuss with the family.

“You and Cam should go out together,” I advise sagely, “Just forget about the wedding and do something fun.”

“Something fun?” she echoes inanely, “Fun?”

“Yeah, you know,” I laugh, “Ha-ha, carefree and no worries…fun, Channon. Maybe take in a movie, go out to dinner…something.”

“Yeah…fun…” she parrots in a dry, unenthusiastic tone.

“Go be with your man, woman!” I cry in laughing exasperation, “Hell, I know I’d jump at the chance if I were you.”

“But I’ve got to study for finals,” she hedges, “And I haven’t even begun to pack my things to move into the new apartment. And Julie has all this stuff she’s given us for our place so we’re going back and forth trying to organize all that on top of the wedding. I don’t have time for fun, Liz.”

“Make the time,” I advise sagely, “You’re only going to have this time in your life once, Channon. Cam is probably as ready for a break as you are.”

“And what about you?” she asks, “Are you getting any breaks lately?” I snort at that. These days I wouldn’t recognize a break if it walked up and slapped me silly. Channon clucks sympathetically. “Is Max still at practice then?”

“When is he not at practice?” I ask, struggling to keep the acrimony out of my tone, “It’s okay…these are the things you got through when you marry a hot shot football player. Besides I couldn’t possibly make room for fun even if Max were here…I’ve got my hands full with the baby.”

“You know Diane’s just chomping at the bit to keep her for a few days,” Channon says, “Maybe you should take her up on her offer and get some r and r.”

It’s a definitely possibility and I find, once I begin pondering on the idea, I like the sound of it. Of course there’s a part of me that balks over leaving my baby, which is actually quite reluctant to do so but the exciting chance at spending some alone time with my husband takes precedence.

“Maybe I’ll take her up on that,” I murmur in consideration, “There’s no reason Lindsay couldn’t stay with Diane and Philip for a few days after the wedding. I know my parents will be over the moon at the prospect and the timing is perfect because Max will be done with Spring training by then.”

“I think that’s exactly what you need,” Channon tells me.

“Then take your own advice, Channon,” I laugh shortly, “Go out and spend some time with your fiancé. Forget about the wedding; forget about the move and just concentrate on Cam. Nobody’s going to fault you, okay.”

Channon chokes out a snicker. “So I’m just supposed to go out and party while everybody slaves away to make my wedding day perfect?”

“Essentially,” is my unrepentant reply, “I say you should enjoy the alone time while you can.” My eyes drift over to Lindsay’s bassinet where she has begun to mewl softly. “Believe me…it won’t always be that way.”

[Applebylicious]

<center>Chapter 1</center>

~Max~


The sounds of gurgling and soft shushes rouse me from an exhausted slumber as I open my heavy lids and peer through the slit of my lashes. My sleepy gaze settles on Liz standing beside the cherry wood bassinet, cradling our daughter in her arms and cooing softly. As always, the sight hits me like a brick to the stomach. Er…that’s not quite right. It’s more like…a feather brushed across my chest, inciting a funny tickle right above my heart.

There’s nothing I like better than just watching them together, Mother and Daughter…Liz and Lindsay. My girls. The realization always succeeds in dragging forth every ounce of chest-pounding, ego-pumping male testosterone I posses. Unfortunately, all the testosterone in the world isn’t enough to surpass sheer fatigue. Which is why I’m staying right here…in bed while silently watching their interaction.

“My sweet baby,” Liz soothes, rocking her hips back and forth in an instinctively motherly fashion. She buries her nose into the blanketed bundle in her arms, letting out a sigh as Lindsay continues wailing. “Are you hungry again, sweetheart?”

As she moves to the rocking chair and starts to undo the flap in her shirt that allows her breast to spill forth for easy access, I find my interest spiking. Shifting onto my side, I prop my head on my hand and stare longingly at the ripe nipple that Lindsay immediately latches onto.

Between conflicting schedules, lack of sleep, and doctor’s orders I haven’t made love with my wife in the technical sense for longer than I care to think about. It’s gotten to the point where I experience sporadic hardon’s, often at inopportune times. I’ve become the butt of the entire team, good-natured ribbing taking its course as training ensued.

Now…it’s finally over. I have a good few weeks before regular training sessions begin, and I intend to spend this semi-vacation basking in the glow of my family. I covet this time with them, and having to miss out on even a second of watching Lindsay grow and develop every day nearly kills me.

She glances up, our eyes meeting in the softly lit bedroom. I offer her a sleepy smile, rolling onto my back and stretching as the sheets slip down to my waist. When her eyes immediately lock onto my bare chest, I have to bite back a grin at the fleeting expression of longing that crosses her features.

“Hi,” I rumble sensuously, not bothering to hide my own enjoyment of watching her nurse our daughter. “She’s hungry again?”

Her lips lift in a wry smile as she glances back down, running the back of her knuckles down Lindsay’s cheek. “Like clockwork,” she answers softly, and the utter adoration in her voice melts me. It shouldn’t be so surprising to know that Liz Evans would be a wonderful mother, but knowing and seeing are two completely different things.

She makes a face, wincing in discomfort as Lindsay’s lips suckle strongly, her tiny gums working furiously. “Does it still hurt?” I wonder softly, noting the tender swell of her breasts. An entirely sex-driven part of me can’t help but be aroused by the increase in size and I feel the beginning of one of those sporadic erections forming.

“Only until the milk lets down,” Liz answers with a grimace. “And towards the end…she never can seem to get enough and it feels like she’s sucking me dry.”

I open my mouth to respond, but due to the pints of blood currently flowing towards my groin, the words that come out are slightly different than I had expected. ““I’ve got something for you to suck.” Her eyes fly up in surprise, meeting my heavy-lidded gaze as I throw all shame out the window and curve my lips solicitously.

A sputtering laugh escapes her throat. “Max!”

“What?” I ask, nearly purring as I follow her gaze to the obvious tent in the sheets. “I miss you, baby…”

As she stares at me, her tongue comes out to swipe across her lower lip, nearly dragging forth a groan from my throat as she begins to nibble on her mouth. “You’re always so bad,” she scolds lightly, but I catch the hint of excitement behind her tone.

Feeding on this reaction, I sit up and incline my head towards Lindsay’s still body. “Looks like she’s done…why don’t you let her sleep and come over here and see me?”

My husky tone doesn’t go unnoticed and we exchange a heated stare before she suddenly stands up, turning to set Lindsay down in her bed. My heart begins pounding in fierce pleasure as she literally dives for the bed and I catch her against my chest as our lips meet in a passionate clash.

My hands slide up her silky back, pulling the shirt over her head as my fingers fall to the clasp of her bra. Her own hands slip inside my cotton boxers, eagerly closing around my fevered flesh. I pause in my task of freeing her swollen breasts, closing my eyes with a groan as she caresses my cock. “Oh, God baby…”

“Max…I missed you,” she purrs into my ear, straddling my lap and pushing me back as my hands come up to gently cup her bared breasts. The instant I do, she lets out a hiss and arches her back.

I stare at the engorged globes in a mixture of arousal and sympathy, lightly tracing a blunt fingertip across her stretched skin. Her nipples are a deeper, rosier shade than I remember…thick and supple. As I grasp one between my fingers, she tenses. “Is that okay?” I whisper, looking up and meeting her heavy-lidded gaze. The sheer desire emanating from her sleep-sexy eyes sends my own excitement skyrocketing, and I tug gently on the distended tip.

“Yes…” she gasps through a moan, and draws her lower lip between her teeth as she squeezes my length in response. Through a passionate fog I find myself lifting my hips as she drags my underwear down, haphazardly tossing it somewhere over her shoulder. I make quick work of her clothing and switch our positions so that I’m hovering above her, our lips and tongues tangled as naked flesh rubs together.

After a particularly long kiss, I pull back and stare through my lashes at her flushed features, the longing in her gaze. “Baby…” I murmur, running a hand down her hip as my eyes linger over her changing curves, the slight swell of her belly from where our daughter lay housed. “What do you want me to do?” I manage thickly, well aware of the fact that we haven’t been intimate since Lindsay’s birth and there have been many changes in her body since then.

I expect her to tell me to take it slow, to be gentle. Instead, the words that come out of her lush lips cause me to blink before releasing a hungry growl. “Kiss your mother with that mouth?” I tease huskily, nudging her lips with my own.

“No, but I’ll kiss something else with it,” she counters boldly, then repeats her earlier words. “Now, Max.”

She’s hot and slick as my fingers slide through soft folds, ready for me to slide inside of her the way I’ve dreamed for the last several weeks…dreams that have damn near tortured me knowing they wouldn’t come true.

But all of the frustration disappears as I position myself at her entrance, holding my breath as the head of my cock disappears inside her flesh. She closes around me like a hot, wet fist…and so damn tight I groan my surprised pleasure. “Liz…” I gasp, my had falling forward as I manage to hold myself upright with locked arms. “You’re so…freaking snug…”

She moans my name, eyes widening as I sink inside her, then going soft and heavy as she gazes up at me. I don’t know what I expected…for things to feel different, certainly, but I hadn’t expected them to be even better, if that was at all possible. Yet the length of my celibacy combined with the shocking feel of having her surround me once again, is almost too much for me to handle.

“Baby, I’m not gonna last long,” I admit gruffly, not bothering to feel embarrassed by my confession. I want this too damn much. “You just feel too damn good…Christ!” I inhale on a sharp breath when she does a subtle roll with her hips, driving me deeper. “I can’t believe how tight you are.”

“It’s been two months, Max,” she pants lightly. “It shrinks back down to its natural size…after awhile. Plus, you haven’t fucked me in so long…”

I groan again at her coarse words, my head falling against her forehead. “Liz…” Our mouths meet hungrily, and I start thrusting wildly as she rears up to meet me. My hands fall to her breasts, cupping them gently to keep from jarring the tender flesh.

“I love you…” The words spill from both of our lips at the same time an incredibly intense climax rips through me, my head jerking back as a guttural groan escapes my throat. I vaguely hear her sighing beneath me, the clasp of her flesh contracting in completion.

Afterwards, we both lie there like we’ve been through a war. Sweat slicks our bodies, arms and legs tangled as we stare at the ceiling fan whirring above. I hazard a glance in her direction, feeling slightly guilty about having taken her so roughly for the first time…but she meets my gaze and…laughs.

The sound is so carefree…so sated with sensual pleasure that I can’t help but laugh, too. The sound of Lindsay snuffling in the corner gives us pause, and pretty soon we’re snickering like a pair of lovestruck teenagers stealing a private moment behind closed doors.

Another snuffle, then outright wailing as Lindsay wakes up from her catnap. I let Liz stay in the bed, jumping up and pulling my shorts back up my legs before heading to the bathroom to wash my hands. As I pick my daughter up from the bassinet, I gaze into her large eyes and feel a familiar stinging behind my lids. And suddenly I’m taken back…

“Oh GOD!”

“Baby, you can’t push…the doctor said—” I’m cut off as a frightening sound escapes Liz’s throat, raising chills over my flesh.

“You and the doctor can go to hell!” she screeches. “Look what you’ve done to me, you bastard!”

Muffled laughter sounds to my right, and I glare at Maria as she offers me an innocent expression. Turning back to my wife, I brush her sweat-soaked hair back from her eyes, trying to stay calm despite the fact that my heart’s threatening to burst out of my chest. “Liz…look at me.”

“I can’t do this!” she moans sorrowfully. “She’s ripping me in two, Max. I need drugs, dope me up dammit! I changed my mind…” Her next words are lost in a pained howl as a particularly strong contraction ripples across her stomach. The actual sight of it, raising along her flesh makes me queasy.

“Um…Liz…oh God,” I swallow, tearing my eyes away from the spot where the doctor has now settled himself between my wife’s legs. All I see is blood, and lots of it. “Is she okay?” I manage thickly, my head feeling light.

I’ve seen grown men take such a beating that they’re black and blue for weeks, I’ve seen bones crunch and break through flesh, but nothing prepared me to see the woman I love in such intense agony. I think I might actually pass the fuck out.

“L-Liz…” I start.Crap, I’m such a bad coach. This is horrible.

“All right, Liz,” the doctor says in a calm, almost bored tone. “You can start pushing now. Deep breath, count to ten…”

The bones in my hand are nearly shattered as she clasps down and pushes. I manfully refrain from yelping as Maria takes her place on the other side of Liz’s body, murmuring quiet words into her ear as I hold my own breath, my ears ringing.

The second her grip softens, I open my mouth to speak and the first words out of my mouth are so inane, that I know I’m seconds away from losing it. “Baby, you should have played football.”

She mutters something so unrepeatable about where I can shove my football, even the unflappable doctor smirks. I click my jaw shut and decide to just be the silent support from here on out.

Minutes, hours later…I lose count of the passing time between screeching cries…another cry drifts through the air and a chorus of triumphant voices sound up as Liz begins crying. Maria’s in tears, too, speaking rapidly as she stares at the tiny figure in the doctors hands.

“It’s a girl,” he says with a smile, taking the time to place our daughter…oh Jesus God, our DAUGHTER…on Liz’s stomach. My wife is blubbering, her hair is a tangled mess, but the sight of the two of them together for the first time is so beautiful, I feel tears filling my own eyes.

When I walk into the waiting room in a complete daze minutes later, I’m met with a swarm of anxious and excited faces. I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out.

“Well?” Kyle prods, speaking up as the others surround me. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“It’s…” I pause, feeling the walls close around in on me. “It’s a…baby,” I manage before I fall facefirst into Cameron’s shoulder...

“What are you thinking about?” her quiet voice breaks me from my memories as I glance over to see her watching us from the bed. A questioning smile is on her face, her features still flushed and rosy from our bedplay.

“Just…remembering,” I answer softly. “That’s all.”

[Deejonaise]

<center>Chapter 2</center>

~Channon~


I forget the fact that everything in my life is chaos when Cameron opens the door and breaks into a wide, overjoyed smile when he sees me standing there. “Baby…” is all he breathes before pulling me into his arms and burying his face in my throat, “I thought you said you weren’t coming by tonight.” His question is laced with such happy, profound relief that I can’t keep myself from smiling.

I tangle my fingers in his hair and seek out his lips. “You act like you missed me or something, troll,” I tease into his mouth.

“Hell, no,” he grunts, “Like I’d miss a hag like you. I wouldn’t waste my time. I just missed having you next to me and hearing your voice and feeling your warmth…I could leave everything else though.”

I snort a laugh. “Asshole.”

“Bitch,” he throws back affectionately, gathering me closer and hauling me inside his dorm room, “Get in here so I can kiss your ass properly, woman.”

His hands have already found their way under my shirt by the time he kicks the door closed behind us. I moan in pleasure as his fingers begin plucking at my nipples but before we can fall onto the bed together I catch sight of his roommate sprawled across the adjacent bed and snoring loudly.

“Cameron!” I screech, shoving at his hands before he can unfasten the clasp to my bra, “We’re not alone.” I say this last part as if that fact isn’t completely obvious but he doesn’t even flinch.

“Chan, he’s passed out drunk,” he says mildly, making a grab for me, which I easily sidestep, “He’s not going to hear anything.”

“Damn right because I have no intention of having sex with your roommate in the next bed!” I cry in laughing exasperation.

“I’m not saying we have to have sex,” Cam returns smoothly, his eyes stroking my body in the most delicious way, “We can just fool around a little.” He pouts. “Come on, baby…please. Ever since finals started looming you’ve cut me off. I’m dying here.”

“I’m thinking about our grades,” I tell him evenly as he collapses onto his bed. I sit down beside him. “You know if we were…ah…together we’d just end up getting distracted,” I reason with him softly, “This way we get some actual studying accomplished.”

“Then why are you here now,” he sulks, “Just to tease me? That’s fucked up, Channon.”

“You’re such a whiny, little snot.”

“And you’re a bossy, cockteasing priss,” he snorts back. And then his forehead falls against my shoulder. “God, I want you so bad right now…” he groans against me, “I’ve missed you so much, baby…”

“Me, too,” I whisper, finding his lips for another kiss, “I love you, Cam.”

“I love you, too,” he murmurs, his arms snaking around my middle, “I just go crazy when you’re not here.”

“Cam, I’m across campus,” I reply wryly.

Cam lifts his head and levels me with a disgruntled scowl. “You know what I mean,” he pouts, “You’re always blowing me off to study. If not for the fact my mother calls me every fucking day with some new detail for our wedding I’d forget we were getting married at all. You treat me like your boy on the side.”

“You should be so lucky,” I huff with an eye roll. “Stop exaggerating.”

“It’s true,” he whines.

“It’s true,” I mimic mockingly, “Why do you think I’m here right now, pretty boy? I can’t get you off of my mind either.”

He slides his hand up my midriff, cupping my breast and drawing slow, sensuous circles around my stiffened nipple with his thumb. “Really?” he purrs into my ear, “You’ve had me on your mind, huh? Why don’t you show me how much?”

I flick a meaningful glance over towards his roommate. “We’ll go to your dorm room then,” he suggests a little desperately.

I really don’t blame him for his unbridled eagerness. I’m sure it’s pretty hard for a guy to go from getting it everyday to barely at all. But hey…I’m thinking of our grades here. Or…er…at least I was until after talking to Liz. She helped me get my priorities back on track and right now spending time with Cam, however I can, is the only thing I can think about.

“We can’t go back to my room,” I sigh in disappointment, “Taylor’s studying there.”

“We could tell her to take a hike,” Cam proposes unrepentantly, his thumb scrapping over my nipple provocatively.

I pinch him for his insensitivity. “That’s just mean. You know how broken up she’s been since she and Steven split. I don’t want to rub our relationship in her face.”

“Um…babe?” Cam whispers quite thoughtfully, “She’s your maid of honor, remember? I think it’s a little late for that.”

I shove him backwards with a playfully disgusted growl. “The last thing Tay needs is to turn around every ten seconds and find her brother and best friend sucking face,” I reason with a sigh, “It’s cruel.”

“We’ve hardly been sucking face every ten seconds,” he deadpans dryly, “Believe me…I know…”

“Cameron, be serious,” I giggle, “I actually came by to see if you’d be interested in going out to dinner with me. I bet you haven’t left the room all day except for classes.”

“Just as you ordered, mistress,” he quips in his best Igor impression but he sounds more like Yoda. I try not to laugh as he nuzzles my throat. “Your wish is my command.”

“Har, har,” I growl, “Keep that up and you’ll go hungry.”

Cameron groans, rolls his eyes and flops back against the bed. “Don’t tell me that you’re trying to pay again? Lord, you’re stubborn.”

“It’s the least I can do,” I insist and that’s no understatement either.

Since my mom split the Evanses have assumed full care for me. If ever I’ve needed clothes or money they’ve provided it. Whenever we’ve had a break they have provided a place for me to come home to. Julie and Paul Evans have treated me as their surrogate daughter in nearly every sense. I’m sure Cam’s parents would have probably even paid for my school tuition if I hadn’t insisted on taking out a loan. They do too much as it is. Even our wedding is coming solely out of their pockets…with loads of help from cousin Max, of course.

Well, there have also been the recent checks from my dad but I’ve got too much pride for that…

In the meantime, I’ve entered into a work-study program here on campus and taken a part-time job just so I won’t become too much of a burden to them. If taking my fiancé out for a meal every now and again helps to pay back their many kindnesses then I’ll do it. He hates it though. Cam would have preferred it the other way around. He likes to take care of me…always.

I swivel around to regard him, where he lays spread across the bed like a drama queen, his forearm thrown across his eyes. With a laughing snort, I pinch his thigh.

“Ow!” He frowns at me. “That’s gonna leave a mark, wench!”

“Get up, you pussy!” I order, my smile contrasting with my insulting words, “Come on, Ca-Moron. I’ll even buy you some of that masticated cow flesh you’re so fond of.”

He scrunches his face in a disgusted grimace. “Well, when you put it like that… Maybe I’ll just have a salad.”

That visual is so ludicrous that I collapse down against him with choking fits of laughter. It’s a long, long time before we’re able to unglue our lips and hands from each other to move from the bed and, by then, neither of us are hungry for food.

“This fucking bites,” Cam declares as he grabs up his jacket and escorts me toward the door, “At this rate, my cock will explode before the honeymoon.”

I’m about to make a decidedly flippant comeback to that statement when Cam swings the door wide and we come face to face with his ex-girlfriend, Michelle Varner. She’s tall and leggy and of course a gorgeous blue-eyed blond. No reason to be intimidated, right? Oh, and she’s looking my man up and down like he’s a choice piece of Godiva. I could drop kick her ass on principle.

“Hey, Cam,” she fairly breathes in greeting and I swear her obvious flirtation just makes me want to hurl. But when she looks at me her eyes become positively frosty. “Hey, Channon.” I can tell she was seriously thinking of mispronouncing my name on purpose but I’m sure the look on my face says I would have knocked her flat before she had even finished. Actually, I want to knock her flat…period.

“Michelle, what are you doing here?” Cam asks her while squeezing my fingers to reassure me that I have nothing to worry about. “I…I thought we said all that we had to each other from before.”

“I thought so, too,” she says with another uneasy look in my direction, “But I heard a rumor around campus and I just needed to hear from you if it was true.”

“If what was true?”

“Are you…” She trails off into silence with another baleful look in my direction. “Do we have to do this with an audience?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I declare before Cam can even open his mouth. The grin he flashes in my direction lets me know he’s pleased with my actions.

When he looks back at Michelle his expression is firm. “Whatever you have to say you can say it in front of Channon. We don’t keep secrets from each other.”

“Look, I know you two are together…everybody knows that…,” she huffs in annoyance, “…but… Is it true that you’re engaged now, too?”

Instead of giving her a verbal answer, Cam lifts up my hand so that Michelle can see the engagement ring for herself. She goes completely white. Surprisingly, I find myself feeling sorry for the girl I wanted to punch only moments earlier. “We’re getting married in two weeks,” he tells her.

She stares up at him in unconcealed pain, her blue eyes shimmering with tears. I feel awful to see them so I can’t imagine how Cameron feels right now. He looks pretty sick, his skin pale and pasty as he regards her.

“Okay,” she chokes, stumbling back a few steps, “I…uh…I guess I know what you were waiting for now, huh?”

When she walks off crying I half expect Cameron to go after her but he merely stares after her with forlorn eyes. “Damn…that was bad,” he mutters. He pulls me closer, wraps himself around me. “I’m sorry.”

“Do you…do you want to check to make sure she’s alright?” I ask reluctantly.

He shakes his head. “No, it would probably just makes things worse,” he reasons, “Besides there’s nothing I can tell her that would make things better.” He favors me with a tender smile. “I’m in love with another woman and she knows that.”

God knows I have to wonder why sometimes. Why does this man love me so damn much? I’ve tried his patience at every turn and hurt him more times than I care to recall, yet he still looks at me like I’m the most perfect thing he knows. Hell, I couldn’t even accept his marriage proposal the first time he asked…or even the second. I look at him now and I can’t believe I ever said no at all.

I can remember the day he first proposed. Even though I turned him down flat that day is emblazoned in my mind, crystal and brilliant, because I think it’s then that I began to understand just how much Cameron Evans loves me. We were in the student lounge at the time, watching the DVD of A Night at the Roxbury with half a dozen other students when he said, without warning or fanfare, “Marry me.”

At first I thought he was kidding because…well, Cam’s an asshole like that, but then I twisted around to see his face. He was staring at me with soft, luminous eyes, his expression perfectly serious. I remember the last time he looked at me that way…it had been right after the first time we made love.

And, though I’d been moved nearly beyond words by his actions, I shrugged out of his arms in dubious shock. “What?”

“I think we should get married,” he said again, “I mean…I’m asking you. I’m asking you to marry me, Chan.”

I couldn’t help it. I totally freaked out and said the first thing that sprang into my fear-saturated mind. “No.” And then I ran away.

The fallout was pretty bad. While I recognized the reason I said no to him, my never-ending fear that any marriage attempt I make will end up in divorce, I also knew I was being unfair to Cam and that I had trampled on his heart…again. Unfortunately, when I tried to make things right, he was hearing none of it. He wouldn’t see me or even take my calls for days. I was pretty sure we were over and fast sinking into the dark abyss of depression when he showed up at my dorm room one day without warning.

“Okay, I know that last time I hardly did it right,” he said, dropping down to one knee as he pulled a small velvet box from his pocket. “I fucked that up, I know it. So I’m going to try this again.” When he flipped back the lid to the ring I actually started bawling. I didn’t even want to contemplate how much money he’d drained from his savings account to buy it. “Okay, so here I am, officially on one knee and asking you, Channon Davis, to be my wife. What do you say?”

And, once again, I kicked him in the teeth. “I’m sorry, Cameron,” I sobbed, backing back into my dorm room, somehow feeling worse than I did before when he wasn’t talking to me, “I just…can’t…”

So in those even darker days that followed I had to face some facts about myself. I was a seriously fucked up person and that’s why I didn’t want to marry Cam. I was afraid to be happy, afraid to truly commit. I was, indeed, the product of my parents in every sense. If they couldn’t make a success of it then how can I, even if half of the partnership is wonderfully, lovingly magnificently normal? Wouldn’t I just end up bringing Cam down? But then I had to wonder if continually throwing his proposals back in his face was the way to go either. Honestly, I was tired of hurting him. I was tired of hurting myself.

After much soul searching I decided it was time for me to stop being afraid. Cameron had taken a leap of faith with me. He had proven his love for me over and over and now it was time for me to prove to him that his efforts hadn’t been in vain….that being with me didn’t mean continual heartbreak.

I had to beg, literally beg him to go out with me. He was beyond pissed off and hardly in a conversing mood, but it was my very determination and remorse that swayed him. I took him out to the most expensive and crowded restaurant I knew. I was going to let Cameron David Evans know how I felt about him and I was going to do it with plenty of witnesses.

We were midway through our dinner salads and altogether nonexistent conversation when I fell down onto my knee beside his chair and did it. In the center of a bustling restaurant full of people, I asked Cameron Evans to marry me. Needless to say, his eyes bugged out of his head. We definitely had the whole restaurants’ attention at that point. Even the busy waiters had stopped to stare. And the whole time I could feel my cheeks growing hot with mortification, but excitement, too, as I waited for Cam’s answer.

“Well?” I prodded when he continued silent.

“Can I think about it for a minute?” he asked blandly, “I don’t like to make big decisions on an empty stomach.”

Dumbfounded, I blinked at him several times before his lips finally split in a laughing grin. “Of course, I’ll marry you! I love you, you idiot!” I don’t think I’ve ever laughed and cried so much at the same time. It was definitely one of the happiest days of my life and, I’m quickly learning, the majority of those always center around Cameron. Hell, we even got a free dessert out of it.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks me now as we start from his building hand in hand after his confrontation with Michelle, “You’re smiling to yourself.”

I nudge his shoulder with my own, walking closer than necessary just because I love the way he smells. I love being near to him. “I’m happy,” I tell him.

“Oh…” he says with visible relief, “I thought you might have been pissed off about that whole Michelle deal.”

My smile broadens as I realize, for the first time in a long time, I’m actually content, worry free. I’m not carrying that weight with me that I usually do and it feels good. It feels so good to breathe.

“I’m in love with you, Cameron,” I whisper softly. “Nothing is going to piss me off ever again.”

We end up sharing a garden salad at a café across campus. Cam only agrees to this after I give him my solemn vow that I will reveal to no one that he had a healthy meal. We laugh and tease each other like the old days, like we don’t have a ton of wedding plans hanging over our heads and a move to coordinate. When the evening starts to draw to a close we feel it really heavy in our stomachs, reluctance stamped all over us. It’s been a while since we were carefree like this.

The usually twenty minute walk back to my dorm takes nearly an hour because we bullshit the entire way. We chase each other about the campus like idiots, playing hide and seek in the early morning hours. We even have a torrid make out session under the tree where I read my novels under the guise of study. By the time we reach my door it’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him to stay the night but I know Taylor will flip.

“So…uh…”

He nuzzles my cheek, my mouth, his breath stirring against my skin. “Yeah…?”

“My Sociology final’s coming up…”

“Uh-huh…” He nibbles at lower lip, running his tongue along the edge.

“And I still haven’t studied like I should…”

“Okay…” he says, but if anything he steps closer rather than away, pinning me between his body and the door. His hands slide up to cup my breasts, bold caresses not impeded by the fact we’re standing in an open hallway. “God, you’re soft…”

“Cam…” I groan into his mouth, “You’re making this so hard…”

“I’ll say…” he grunts, pressing closer so I can feel his erection. I moan, half in desire, half in frustration. “Okay, okay,” he relents, reading the torn expression on my face, “I’ll back off. Just let me come in and say goodnight to Tay-zilla. I don’t want her to feel excluded or anything.”

But Taylor’s not there. I drift into our empty room and pick up a note from her desk, reading aloud. It says that she’s gone to pull an all-nighter at the library and I shouldn’t be worried. A slow smile spreads across my face at the unexpected opportunity. As I turn to make my naughty suggestion to Cam, however, I stop short. I should have known that words were unnecessary. He’s already removed his shirt and jeans and stands there clad in only his boxers and socks, a feline smile stretching across his lips as he tugs me into his arms.

[Applebylicious]

<center>Chapter 3</center>

~Cameron~


“Oh, God Cameron!”

The sensual cry drags forth another groan from my throat as I grasp Channon’s thighs and press them further apart, pounding inside of her as her nails score the length of my back. “Shit!”

She arches up, her mouth falling open on a silent scream as her eyes go soft and she begins contracting violently around me. It sets off a chain reaction as I curse loudly and freeze myself above her, staring down into her face as my own climax erupts.

I collapse on top of her, my face in her neck as I breathe harshly. Her fingers trail down my sweat-slicked back, an erotic purring sound of satisfaction escaping her throat. I lift my head minutes later to gaze into her sated eyes. “You’re beautiful.”

Her lips curve, and I expect to hear words of love spill from them. Instead…”I need a cigarette.”

I snort, falling next to her and throwing an arm over my eyes. “You don’t smoke, baby. In fact, you lobbied to have the smoke pit taken out of the Student Union last month. I believe it was you who called tobacco companies the last true evil…?”

She punches me on the arm for my efforts. “Well, right now I can see the point of them. I need something…a kick.” She grunts when I deliver. “Not literally, Ca-Moron.”

“I’m a literal kind of guy,” I purr cheekily. “I don’t do metaphors, baby.”

“You wouldn’t know a metaphor if it crawled up and bit you on the ass like Max’s crab,” she returns. I’m sputtering, wondering how the hell she knows about that, when she continues on with, “but you sure are a good lay, troll boy.”

I sit up on my elbows, leaning over her to brush a kiss across her lips. “And you…are one sexay hag…” I murmur, flicking my tongue against the corner of her mouth, a spot I’ve learned drives her wild through hours of arduous research. Right.

Then her legs are wrapping around me, her body sinking into the bed in blatant invitation as her fingers drift southward to wrap around my cock…when a hesitant knock sounds on the door. We both freeze as a soft voice calls, “Taylor?”

Channon’s eyes widen and she explodes into motion, nearly blackening one of my eyes with the arch of her heel as she fumbles around the bed for clothes. When she catches me staring at her, she hisses, “Get dressed!”

“Why?” I ask inanely, wanting nothing more than to ignore whoever’s on the other side of that door and continue in getting reaquainted with my fiancee. My fiancee…god it still feels incredible to say the word, even in my head.

Of course, the road wasn’t easy. After the emotional battle of admitting our feelings to each other, I thought it would be smooth sailing there on out for Channon and I. In retrospect, I realize I should have known better.

Thanks to her mother’s abandonment and her father’s negligence, Channon looks at everything and everyone as a temporary fix. Even after we were together, I sensed at times that she was simply waiting for the other shoe to drop. We’d have an asinine fight and she’d take the defense, offering to walk away first. Needing to walk away first, because the idea of being left is unacceptable to her.

I think deep down she knows I’m here to stay…but it’s hard to fight against long-suffered insecurities. Every day she becomes more firmly entrenched in our family, one step closer to believing she truly belongs with us. We rarely have the same fight anymore, save for the times her father attempts to contact her. And of course, over getting married.

She thinks it was something random, spur of the moment that made me ask her to marry me that day. But it’s something I’ve dreamed and planned for since the moment those three little words passed her lips. Truly, I hadn’t planned on doing it so soon…but patience is a virtue I don’t possess. Especially after talking it over with Max and hearing his opinion, which was a terse, “You love her, asshole. What are you waiting for?”

I can always count on Max to put things in perspective. And what the hell was I waiting for, anyway? We were old enough, stable enough…my parents aren’t exactly light-weights in the moolah department, and my cousin is a freaking millionaire.

So, I took a chance. And I crashed and burned. Twice. And it hurt, and I thought maybe this time was really it. Maybe there really wasn’t anything I could do to make Channon realize that I loved her and would never dream of leaving her.

And then she knocked my world out from under me, proposing to me in a crowded restaurant. I never told her how close I came to actually breaking the fuck down when she got down on one knee, that all that kept me from bawling in my gravy was the fact that she looked so damn vulnerable. So unsure…as if I’d ever say no.

“Cameron! You have to get dressed!”

I shake my head and chase the hazy thoughts away as a pair of jeans come flying at my face. Standing up and lazily pulling on one leg, I mutter, “What’s the damn emergency? It’s someone for Tay…she isn’t even here. Let them leave a note.”

She glares at me, making weird eye gestures as the knock occurs again, this time more insistant. “It’s Steven,” she mouths.

Suddenly, I’m not so lazy anymore as I recognize the voice of my sister’s ex-boyfriend. I tug the jeans up my legs, a dark scowl on my face. “Oh, is it now? Well, I have a little something to say to that bastard.”

“Cameron!” she hisses, “come back here and let me deal with this!”

But I already have one hand on the doorknob, jerking it wide open as I come face to face with the morose expression of Steven Kade. His brown eyes widen in surprise, then his brows lower as he realizes his crucial mistake. I cross my arms, leaning against the doorjamb as he runs a hand through his dark blonde hair. “Uh…hey Cameron,” he says, offering me a sickly smile.

“What the hell is it, Attack of the Ex’s Day?” I call over my shoulder to Channon without removing my gaze from Steven’s. Then, “What the hell are you doing here, Kade? Don’t you have school?” I put a heavy emphasis on the word, letting the age gap between us to rear its head.

Not that it’s really much of a difference. Steven Kade is eighteen, and he’s the same age as my sister…but he’s still a high school senior. One of those kids who didn’t start kindergarten until they were six, or some such shit. But his age isn’t what bothers me…it’s the fact that he apparently can’t keep his eighteen-year-old dick in his pants.

Memories of the night Taylor drove all the way back from her surprise trip to Roswell, her surprise trip to see Steven, and ended up in my room in tears will forever be imprinted on my brain. I’ve never seen my levelheaded sister look so ravaged, I’ve never seen her so damn vulnerable. It took Channon to keep me from driving back to Roswell myself and ripping the guy a new asshole.

Just thinking about it makes me angry all over again, and I send him a dark glare as a warning growl escapes my throat. “Well?” I bark when he just blinks at me. I search for any signs of smugness, cockiness shining in his eyes. But I only see a strange sort of desperation that I refuse to ponder.

He straightens to his full six-feet, every muscle in his athletic body tensing before he softly mumbles, “I’m here to see Taylor.”

“Why?” I demand bluntly. “So you can make her cry some more? I don’t fucking think so, you limp dick—” My next words are muffled as Channon walks up and shoves me away.

“Ignore the troll,” she says, sending me a look that promises retribution.

“Hag,” I grumble, rubbing the spot where my elbow bumped against the wall while struggling not to pout in front of Steven the Plaster Saint.

He glances back and forth between us, a look of complete confusion on his face. Sure enough, “You guys confuse the hell out of me.”

“Anyway, Taylor’s not here, Steven,” Channon adds as if he’d never spoken. “She went out with some…friends…” The second the words are out, she makes a face and quietly moans under her breath. Steven goes stock still.

“Friends?” he asks in a strained voice, obviously understanding the situation as his eyes momentarily darken in jealous pain. “Um…okay. Any particular reason why she has her phone turned off?”

I smirk. “Maybe she blocked your number, pretty boy.”

I half expect him to come back with some smart-ass remark, after all Steven Kade has a mouth on him that rivals my own at times. When he and Taylor were together, we hung out a few times…and I was sorry to admit I had a good time. Then he had to go and fuck it all up by cheating on my sister.

But instead of a comeback, he flinches as an expression of stark anguish flits across his face. His shoulders droop and he nods before turning around and walking away stiffly.

I’m silent, torn between satisfaction at having seen him taken down a notch to surprise at his easy acceptance. I don’t have time to ponder his reaction, however, because as I glance back at Channon I find her glaring daggers at me. “What?”

“Was that really necessary?” she bites off, turning and stalking back inside. “All he wanted was to talk to Taylor.”

“Taylor doesn’t want to talk to him,” I feel inclined to point out, following her across the small room. “In fact, she said she never wanted to see him again. Remember?”

When she only snorts, I begin to feel irritated…and slightly guilty. “Well, she did!” I snap. “And dammit, he hurt her, Channon. I can’t just let him do it again.”

That softens her expression and she sighs before walking up and closing her arms around me. “I know, you’re such a good brother. Taylor…she’s lucky to have you.”

“I’m lucky to have you,” I return, pulling her closer and catching her lips. “Give us a kiss.” Our lips meet and cling, my hands sliding up her back as I use my foot to kick the door shut. “Now where were we?”

She giggles as I scoop her up and toss her on the bed, crawling up and over her before she bounces twice. When I move to take her mouth again, she raises a hand to my chest to hold me off, and shakes her head as an impish gleam shines in her eyes. “I don’t think so…you really should be getting back. I have my hands full with laundry and studying…”

“What?” I groan, “Channon…no.” When she just shakes her head woefully at me, I drop my forehead and mumble something.

“What did you say?”

I look up, my lower lip sticking out as I growl, “You had your hands full of something else a second ago…” I arch my hips into hers pointedly, “and he’s feeling neglected.”

She lets out a snort. “Oh please! I just made him a very, very happy little Cam-Moron a minute ago.”

“Little?” I sputter, “little?” When she bursts out in giggles, I decide the time for talking is over as I prepare to show her just how not little I am.

An hour later I’m walking back towards my own dorm, hands in my pockets and a huge grin of satisfaction coloring my features. As I pass by the quad, I happen to glance over and freeze.

I watch in shock as my sister and Steven Kade continue making out against the trunk of an old oak tree, his hands clasped firmly around her cheeks as she writhes against him. My mouth falls open, until I realize she’s not thrashing about in passion, but rather squirming to get away.

My vision darkening, I start towards them with thoughts of ramming my fist straight into his face, when he lets her go and backs up. I can hear them both panting, glaring at each other.

From my vantagepoint, I hear him say, “Don’t tell me you didn’t feel anything, dammit!”

The sound of a palm laying flat against a cheek echoes through the night and I wince in shared pain as Steven jerks from the impact. Even in the moonlight I can see the flush rising over Taylor’s face. “How dare you!” she shrieks. “You bastard, don’t put your goddamned hands on me ever again!”

She moves to stalk away, but he reaches out and catches her arm, pulling her to a stop. She spins around, her fist curled in the way I’ve taught her to fight. He immediately steps back, hands held up as he says, “Taylor…please…just give me a chance—”

“Fuck you!” she hisses, backing away. “Go home, Steven. I don’t want you here.”

“If you’d just listen to me!” he shouts back in angered desperation. “What you saw…baby, it wasn’t…”

“I’m not your baby,” she snaps back, tears spilling out of her eyes. “And I know what I saw. I saw that you’re a lying sack of shit, and we’re over. So get away from me!” She emphasizes this with a solid shove against his chest, but he doesn’t budge. Not surprising, seeing as how he’s got a good amount of muscle over my petite sister. “I hate you!” she sobs, punching his chest as he tries to catch hold of her hands.

“No you don’t,” he answers in a heartbroken tone. “Taylor…”

I’m about to step forward when a group of laughing students call out Taylor’s name in drunken voices. “Pretty Taylor Evaaans…come party with us!”

Steven’s entire face goes rigid and he stares at her with accusing eyes before she pulls back and wipes a hand down her face. “I’ll be right there!” she manages in a steady voice. Then, “Go home and don’t come back here again.”

As she turns and walks away, I watch as Steven’s plants a fist in the trunk of the tree. Then he sinks to the ground, his head in his hands as he rips at his hair. The misery and anger emanating from him is so powerful that I can’t help but walk over.

He doesn’t look up when I stand in front of him. I kick his shoe with my own, and he lifts his head to stare at me through red-rimmed eyes. “What the fuck do you want now?” he manages gruffly. “If you’re here to finish the job your sister did, get it over with quick. I need to get back on the road.”

I study his expression, the tight lips and locked jaw. The faint glimmer of tears shine in his eyes and I start to feel slightly uncomfortable. “If I was going to kick your ass, I would have done it before now,” I point out sarcastically. “Get up and come with me. It’s too late to drive and you’re messed up. You can crash in my room for the night.”

He stares at me, then snorts. “And what? I stay away from your sister since you’re doing something nice for me? Fuck that, Cameron. And fuck you.” He stands up, wiping his hands down the length of his shorts and moves to turn away.

As he searches his pockets for his keys, I feel guilt begin to coalesce as I study the defeated slump of his shoulders. Somehow I just know that if I let him leave without finding out if he’s really as big an asshole as it appears to be, I’ll be making a big mistake.

I also know Channon would tear me apart if I let him drive when he’s under the influence. He might not be drunk, but emotion is a powerful intoxicant, as well. So I blurt out the only thing I can think of, as inane as it might be. “I have PS2 and digital cable.”

When he pauses and glances over his shoulder, I have to bite back a smirk.

[Deejonaise]

<center>Chapter 4</center>

~Liz~


“Well, that’s just ridiculous,” I haggle with the airline attendant over the phone, “Why should I pay for an entire seat? She’s only two months old! …I don’t care that it’s your freaking policy I am not paying full price for a third seat! You’re out of your mind! What a fucking rip off!”

I take a moment to glare at the phone as the attendant makes her terse reply and then I mutter one of my own, utilizing all the many colorful words I’ve learned from my husband and his teammates. Suffice it to say that does not go over well and she makes another comeback, this one not even hidden behind the veneer of politeness.

“Yeah, well,” I enunciate when she’s done, “You can go fuck yourself.”

After hanging up the phone I emit a frustrated growl. It’s completely ironic…somehow my life was less chaotic when I had a full-time job. Now that I’m a stay at home mommy…I can’t tell my head from my ass anymore. There’s always some errand to run, some person to call, something to clean, cook or polish. I can never catch up with myself. Where did Liz Parker, queen of organization and mistress of the plan go?

I look towards my bedroom, where my husband and daughter are nestled quietly in bed napping and I know the answer to that question. Yet another frustrated growl gurgles from my throat. Lindsay would fall asleep for her daddy, but me…she gives me hell at every turn. No wonder Max is always saying he doesn’t understand why I have so much trouble with her. Lindsay is a completely different baby around her father.

That’s one of the reasons I wish he were home more. He’s so incredible with the baby, so effortless. It’s like he and Linds communicate on a plane I just don’t understand. And while their easy connection does sometimes make me jealous I’m grateful for it as well. I want her to have the close relationship with her father that I have with mine. I’d hate to see that closeness dwindle down into nothing because Max is always on the road.

It’s a long standing worry of mine and it’s taken root in my gut, something I have yet to discuss with Max because I know what it will entail. I can see it in his eyes. He loves the game. Max is nowhere near ready to give up football and I love him too much to ask. There’s also the fact that my motives aren’t as altruistic as I would have them seem either. I selfishly want Max home as much for myself as I do for the baby. I can’t see a workable solution no matter what the outcome.

However, I’m saved from further mental self-torment when the phone rings. I gratefully clink the on button, looking forward to the distraction. The moment I say hello the flippant reply comes back, “Hey gorgeous. Are you alone? I wanna get you all hot and bothered.”

I purse my lips to keep from smiling but it’s nearly impossible. “I thought I told you never to call here again,” I tease.

“Your husband doesn’t have to know about us,” Cam jokes, “I’m happy just to be your piece on the side.”

“Oh, and what does your wife say about that?” I giggle.

“She’s not my wife…yet,” Cam says and I can just imagine him bobbing his eyebrows for effect. The boy has serious issues and I tell him so. “You know you love me,” he tosses back, “So where’s the old man? Can I talk to him for a sec?”

“He’s down for the count, Cam,” I tell him, “I think practice and the baby just has him totally worn out.”

“Damn.”

“Why? What’s the matter?” I ask, a bit alarmed by the thin thread of urgency I hear in his tone, “Did something happen with Channon?”

“No…it’s nothing like that,” he reassures me.

“Then what is it?”

He becomes dead silent at my question, but I can practically hear him vacillating over the phone. “Uh…it’s probably something I should talk to Max about,” he hedges finally.

“In other words it’s a man thing,” I counter in a dry tone and then I spring my trap. “I think I’m hurt. I thought we closer than that, Cameron.”

“Aww…Liz… You know it’s not like that…honest.”

“Then tell me,” I prod, trying to keep the laughter out of my voice because he fell into my trap so easily, “We’re practically siblings.” He makes a small sound of agreement and I swallow back yet another giggle. Cam doesn’t even realize he’s just been played. “You know you can talk to me about anything,” I tack on meaningfully.

Cam sighs, as if he’s preparing to share something profound. “It’s about my bachelor party, okay,” he confesses.

Hmm…interesting. “What about it?”

“Well, I…uh…talked to Kyle last night…” he stammers, “… and…he sorta mentioned something about a…a stripper. God, that was hard to say.” Once more I struggle not to laugh at his uncomfortable tone. It’s hard to imagine the unflappable Cameron Evans blushing but I imagine that’s what he’s doing right now.

“Anyway, he’s already hired her and everything,” Cam goes on, “…but…but I’m just not feeling it.”

I’m not completely surprised by the revelation about the stripper, which therefore curbs my otherwise indignant response. With Kyle Valenti in the wedding party anything goes. Even with his full-time gig as a federal agent and the live-in relationship he’s had with Tess for the past six years the man hasn’t settled down one bit. I can’t believe someone actually licensed him to carry a gun. That’s a sobering thought.

“Well, did you tell him how you feel?” I ask Cam.

“You know Kyle,” he sighs in exasperation, “In one ear and out the other. I was hoping Max could get his head on straight.”

“Cam, if you don’t mind me asking,” I begin with a tentative laugh, “Why don’t you want a stripper? Most guys your age would be all a twitter.”

“A twitter?” Cam echoes in amusement, “Baby, I don’t go a twitter over nothing. But no…I’m not into that whole stripper deal. I mean, Kyle’s talking lap dances and shit like that and…well…it’s too…too intimate for me. I only share that type of thing with Chan, you know.”

“Aww, Cameron,” I gush, “That’s probably the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he gripes, “Just don’t go spreading it all around, okay? Will you have Max call me when he wakes up?”

“I’ll go you one better. I’ll talk to him myself,” I offer sweetly, “I’ve got a lot of clout where he’s concerned. And, if that doesn’t work, I’ll put Kyle in his place personally and with the greatest of pleasure.”

“Thanks, doll,” he says, “Well, I gotta go take my last exam if I plan on Tay, Channon and I being on the road by this afternoon. It’s going to be one long, frosty trip.”

“Why?” I ask, “What’s wrong now?”

“Just Taylor…” he answers vaguely, “We sorta had a fight because I let Steven crash in my room and…”

“What?”

“…the point is that she doesn’t have the whole story,” he continues on, “And I do, but she’s too fucking stubborn to listen to me. She told Channon if I even looked at her sideways she’d blacken both my eyes.”

“Um…okay then,” I say with a light laugh, “Maybe you should try and steer clear of her for a few days…”

“Yeah, that’ll happen,” Cam grumbles, “She’s in my fucking wedding party for god’s sake! She’s acting like a retard. I mean…does she really think I’d give Saint Steven the time of day without a good reason?”

“Well, maybe that will teach you about sticking your nose in business that has nothing to do with you,” I remark pointedly.

“Whose side are you on anyway?” he grouses, “You sound just like Channon.”

“I’ll talk that as a compliment.”

“Yeah…well…when are you and Max going to get to Roswell?” he demands grouchily, “I need somebody on my side for a change.”

“We’ll be on the first plane tomorrow morning,” I tell him with a chuckle, “So you’ll have your reinforcements around ten o’clock.”

“Thank God for that,” Cam teases, “After all, I can’t get married without my best man present, now can I? Talk to ya later.”

Quite in contrast with my earlier conversation with the airline attendant, hanging up with Cameron leaves me with warm fuzzies. I love that kid. Who would have thought when Max introduced us at his little league game some many years ago he would have become an integral part of my life? Furthermore, who would have guessed that I’d actually marry Max Evans so that it could happen?

I’m still smiling over the wonderful irony when I enter my bedroom a few seconds later. Max flops over onto his back the moment I do and begins rubbing the grains of sleep from his eyes. “Ugh…” he croaks groggily, “How long have I been asleep?”

“About two hours,” I tell him as I return the phone to its cradle, “You and Linds looked so peaceful lying there I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Max frowns and I can’t help but smirk over how adorable he looks with his flattened bed hair. “Wasn’t I supposed to be helping you pack?” he yawns.

I flop down beside him on the bed. “Yeah, but you’re a slack ass,” I shrug, “Always have been, always will be.”

He yanks me into his arms with a playful growl and nibbles at my neck. “You know how that dirty talk turns me on, woman.”

“Max, get off!” I laugh, but if anything I loop my arms around his neck to bring him closer. We share a few lingering kisses, highly aware of our daughter sleeping just a few inches away.

“So who was on the phone?” Max asks when we’ve settled against each other a few moments later. He strokes his fingers through my hair languidly and I smile into his chest, unable to remember the last time we had a peaceful moment like this.

“Cameron,” I inform him briskly, tipping my head up to see his face, “He wanted to talk to you about his bachelor party.”

A wide grin of anticipation spreads across Max’s lips. “Bachelor party…yah, baby…”

I arch one speculative brow. “You never said anything about a stripper.”

The answering expression on his face is priceless. He looks like he just got caught with his pants down. I’d laugh if I didn’t have to remind myself that I’m supposed to be ticked off at this second.

“He…he told you about that?”

“Yep,” I say with a click of my teeth, leveling him with a meaningful glower, “I’m kinda wondering why you didn’t.”

“Well…um…see…it’s not a stripper…per se…”

“This isn’t saving your ass, Max,” I deadpan in grim threat.

Max must recognize the need to save his own ass because he explodes without warning, “It’s a joke, okay!”

“A joke?” I parrot.

Max sighs and rolls his shoulders in a shrug. “Me and the guys agreed not to say anything to the womenfolk because we didn’t want the word to get around to Cam by accident and thereby ruin the joke,” he explains in a conspiratorial whisper, “But the truth is…there’s no stripper at all.”

My brows draw together in a confused frown. “I’m not following you.”

“Okay, it’s like this…” Max tells me, “Channon has been giving Cam grief all week about this party just to get him on edge. She told him that she could take anything except a stripper. He absolutely must not have a stripper. So now…” he pauses to snicker at his own genius, “…Cameron’s so scared of pissing her off he’s a near basket case.”

“Okay…”

“But it’s a set up,” Max laughs, “We never hired a stripper at all. It’s just Channon. We’re going to have her jump out of a cake and everything.”

“Wait a second…you guys are going to watch Channon strip,” I hiss, no more pleased with this scenario than I was with the other.

“No, we’re not going to watch her,” Max expounds with a roll of his eyes, “We’re going to send Cameron into a room alone with her and let him think he’s going to get a private lap dance.”

“Well, I’ll tell you right now that your plan is full of holes. Cameron is never going to agree to that,” I say flatly, remembering Cam’s heartfelt words to me earlier. I expect my reply will take all the wind out of Max’s sails but he merely shrugs.

“Of course he’s not going to agree,” Max retorts with relative unconcern, “That’s why we outnumber him. He’s going in that room whether he wants to or not.”

My mouth falls open at his impenitent admission. “You guys are so cruel,” I scold him, “I can’t believe Channon would go along with something like this.”

“Are you kidding me?” Max chortles incredulously, “Cam has had this payback coming for a while now. Besides I think after he realizes his stripper is none other than his wife to be he’ll get over it pretty quick.”

I narrow my eyes and shake my head at him in chagrin. “You truly are an evil man.”

“And I like it!” he smiles without a hint of remorse, “I can’t wait to put this plan into action. The look on his face… Mwahahahaha! I can’t wait until we get to Roswell. This is going to be so hilarious. I’ll have to thank Kyle when I see him next because, of course, it was his idea.”

“Er…well…there might be just a little, itty bitty problem,” I hedge, sitting up slightly and avoiding his worried stare, “I kinda…sorta…pissed the airline attendant off and I didn’t get to buy the tickets.”

Max favors me with a befuddled frown. “Pissed off the… Liz, how did you piss off the airline attendant?” Blushing furiously, I repeat what I said to her, wincing a bit when Max chokes, sputters and the rims of his ears burn a glowing red. “God, baby…why the hell did you do that?” he demands in stunned disbelief.

“She wanted us to pay full price for Lindsay’s seat, Max!” I whine petulantly, “I mean…it was highway robbery or something.”

“Babe…” he replies slowly, “…we’ve got millions. We can afford it.”

“That’s not the point,” I pout, “It’s the principal.”

“Liz…my beautiful, stubborn sometimes erratic wife,” he croons, framing my face between his hands, “You have got to learn to stop sweating the small stuff. You’re going to give yourself an ulcer before you turn thirty. Buying a third ticket at full price is not such a bad thing.”

“It’s not just the ticket, okay. I’ve just got all this fucking crap to do,” I moan tiredly, “I’m under so much pressure because I want everything to be done just right and…”

“Let me take care of it for you,” Max offers before I can finish, “I’ll finish packing, buy the plane tickets and anything else you need me to do.”

“Max, I’m supposed to double check the caterer’s menu and make sure there’s a veggie table plus make sure they’ve got enough food to feed nearly two hundred people,” I tell him, “And that’s not to mention a dozen other little piddling details I have to take care of. You don’t want to do that.”

“I’m going to do that,” he insists, rolling from the bed and simultaneously pushing my shoulders back into the mattress as he does. He then proceeds to pull the sheets up to my chin and tuck them around me, kissing the tip of my nose as he would a child’s. “You’re going to sleep,” he commands firmly, “And I’m going to handle everything else from this point forward.”

“But Max--,”

“No buts,” he insists, pressing a silencing finger to my lips, “You will rest and that is that. Luggage is not something you should be carrying under your eyes, sweetheart.”

I pinch his nipple hard for that comment and he yelps in reaction before dancing out of my reach. “Watch it with the wisecracks,” I warn direly, “Or I’ll tweak the other one.”

“Just get some sleep, okay,” he grouses, rubbing at his wounded nipple as he straightens fully, “I can tell you’re exhausted…it’s really important to me that you get some rest.”

“What if the baby wakes up?” I ask, flicking a look over to where Lindsay sucks furiously on her tiny fist, dead to the world.

“What?” he challenges, “You think you’re the only one who knows how to take care of her? Gimme a break. I’ve got it under control, Liz.”

“Okay…okay,” I relent, no longer able to deny my drooping lids or exhausted muscles. “But only for an hour,” I say on a yawn, “I’ll sleep just an hour.”

Max leans down to brush my lips in a gentle kiss. “Sure, baby…whatever you say.”

When he starts to turn away, however, I snag hold of the waistband of his jeans and haul him back against the side of the bed. “Thank you for doing this, Max,” I whisper in a voice trembling with emotion, “It’s really good to have you home again. I’ve missed you.”

He grins at me. “I’ve missed you, too,” he whispers, “It’s good to be home, Liz.”

Normally, his avowal would make me smile but this time I just get a funny ache in my chest as I watch him walk away because I just have to wonder just how long this homecoming will last.

[Applebylicious]

<center>Chapter 5</center>

~Max~


“Home, sweet home,” I mutter wryly as I watch Cameron run forward and scoop Liz off of her feet, arms wrapping tightly around her as he twirls her around in a laughing circle. “You can put my wife down anytime,” I call out, unable to hold back the grin as I lean against the hood of the rental Mazda RX8, Lindsay cradled in my arms. “You’ve got one of your own, Cam.”

“He’s not nearly as interesting…as you are,” a breathy voice sounds to my left and I look over to see Channon batting her lashes at me. “What do you say, Stud? Can I join the Max Evans Hall of Fame?”

“Very funny,” I mutter, shifting Lindsay to one arm in a familiar football hold and hugging her giggling form. Pulling back, I stare into her glowing face and notice the changes. There’s still a slight hesitancy that surrounds Channon Davis, but for the most part it’s been replaced with laughter and a sense of gaiety I’d never expected to see in her eyes.

“Hey, hey!” Cam’s voice causes us to look over. “What’s going on over there? Watch your hands, cuz.” The dark scowl on his face is almost comical as he releases Liz and comes barrelling towards Channon and I.

“Cameron—” Channon starts laughing, but he cuts her off by grabbing both of her shoulders and crashing his mouth against hers. Sliding his hands down her lower back, he dips her low to the ground before letting her back up and pulling away with a cheeky grin.

“Great to see you, Max,” he chuckles while Channon sputters at his side and sends him a glance that’s half-dazed and partly furious. He ignores her arch expression and wraps an arm around her, pulling her up to his side.

I can only shake my head and laugh as he turns and sticks his tongue out and she makes a grab for it. “Good to be home,” I think out loud, feeling Liz’s presence as she comes up beside me. I mirror Cam’s previous actions, and pretty soon we’re all laughing.

“Max!” the sound of my mother’s excited tone draws my attention to the now open front door, where she’s racing across the lawn with a teary smile on her face.

No matter that I’m twenty-six years old and have lived on my own for quiet a while, there’s still a part of that Mama’s Boy inside of me that lights up at the sight of her. I hold my arms out, expecting her to rush into them.

She walks right past me, nearly knocking me over as she grabs for Lindsay. “Let me see that darling girl!” she exclaims, sniffling lightly as Liz hands our daughter over to her beaming grandmother.

I play it off, scratching behind my ear. I catch Cam’s eye and he snickers while I covertly give him the finger. He coughs into his hand, his middle finger springing up discreetly in return.

At a safe distance from the cooing going on between the three women over Lindsay’s wobbly smile, Cam and I stand there hip-shot, hands in our pockets as we watch with self-satisfied smiles. Almost in unison, we shift and fold our arms across our chests, then pause and glance at each other.

“Boys,” my father’s gruff voice sounds as he joins us, taking up a similar posture as we turn to glance at him. There was a time when I wasn’t sure how the sight of him would make me feel. Angry, disillusioned…but over the years, and with Liz’s help, my father and I have been able to form a tenuous bond that has only managed to strengthen over time.

He inclines his head towards me. “How’s training coming?”

“Good,” I answer easily. “Got some fresh recruits in…so we’re running the same plays over and over. Necessary evils.”

“Did you guys get that lineman from Ole Miss?” Cam asks with interest, and the three of us fall into a conversation about sports in general and football in particular until the women all clear their throats.

“My goodness, I can’t believe we’re all standing out here in the driveway like a bunch of…of…” my mother stammers.

Cameron grins and finishes with, “Exhibitionists?”

“Cameron Evans!” she flushes while we all snicker. “I can’t believe you even know what that means. And no, I didn’t mean…that.” The look on her face is so comical that we all start laughing outright. Even my father chuckles, wrapping his arm around my mom while leading the way to the door.

Once inside, Aunt Julie looks up from where she’s basting a delicious looking roast and squeals at the sight of us. Dropping the baster, she practically dives across the bar and grabs Lindsay out of my mother’s arms. “Let me see that gorgeous girl!”

“I’m doing fine, Aunt Jules,” I call out sarcastically. “No need to gush over little old me.”

“Aw…not feeling the love?” Cam tsks, and I elbow him discreetly in the ribs for his efforts. He manages to mask the pained grunt, but to my satisfaction his face turns a little green around the edges. “Um…never mind,” he wheezes.

“Oh…I’ve seen you nearly everyday for eighteen years,” Aunt Julie waves her arms dismissively. “I haven’t seen this little sweetheart but one time. Just look at her! She has your eyes, Max.”

“And Liz’s nose,” my mother puts in, and the two sisters begin rambling about Lindsay’s characteristics, dragging Liz over as they gush over our daughter.

“Where’s Izzy?” I ask, glancing around. “I figured she and Alex would be here already. Didn’t their flight come in yesterday?”

“They’re around here…somewhere,” Taylor answers as she walks in the room. Shooting Cameron an evil glare as she passes by, she walks up and kisses Liz on the cheek then hugs me. “Glad you’re home,” she smiles, although there’s something lacking in her expression.

I have a pretty good idea why when the next person walks into the kitchen and she freezes in my arms. Her entire expression drains of color, then an angry flush creeps up her cheeks as she glares first at her brother then the newcomer.

“Um…hi,” Steven Kade lifts a hand slightly, his lips quirking into a sad excuse of a smile before his eyes return to Taylor. “Cam…invited me over.” His words are slow and precise, but whatever reaction he was hoping for he doesn’t receive, as Taylor pulls herself out of my embrace and storms off. She purposefully shoves Cameron as she passes by, the sound of a slamming door echoing behind her.

Steven’s shoulders slump as he stares after her. “Maybe I better just leave,” he mumbles tightly, and turns around.

“No, it’s cool,” Cam says, while the rest of us stand in awkward silence. “Come on upstairs, and we’ll finalize those plans. Max…you coming?”

“What’s going on?” Liz asks sweetly, somehow managing not to sound like she’s really just probing out of curiosity.

“Steven’s filling in for Greg,” Cam says. “He won’t be able to be in the service, and we can’t let a perfectly good tux go to waste? Right, Mom?” he adds impishly.

“Well…of course not,” Aunt Julie answers, offering Steven a small smile. “How have you been, sweetheart? I haven’t seen you around lately?”

He shifts on his feet, looking slightly uncomfortable but meeting her gaze straight on. “That’s probably because I’m not exactly…welcome anymore.”

I quirk a brow, interested in where this is all going, but Julie makes a face and shakes her head, saying, “Don’t be silly. Any friend of Cameron’s is welcome here.”

The fact that she leaves out the obvious connection he has with the family…otherwise known as Taylor…is pretty damn apparent as we all stand there. The sound of the front door slamming and loud talking disrupts the interesting conversation, and I glance over to see Kyle Valenti walking in.

“I’m gonna need to see the license and registration for that vehicle out front. It looks better than the one I’m driving, and that’s illegal in my book,” he says solemnly.

“Oh, you moron,” another voice sounds behind him, and he gets slapped on the head before Tess Harding steps out from behind him. “Hey guys!”

I can’t help but grin at the sight of her, and Liz squeals and runs to throw her arms around the other girl as Kyle rubs his head with a pouty expression.

“We’re heeereee!” another voice sounds, and Maria Guerin, formally DeLuca, pops her head in and waddles inside looking like a pixie who swallowed a watermelon. “Dammit, Guerin…come here and hold this door open! You knocked me up, you’ll damn well deal with the consequences.”

“Language! Please, think about the children, Maria,” Cameron tsks, eyeing me and Kyle pointedly. Before I can make a rebuttal, Michael walks in and scoops Maria off her feet as she squeals and bats at his hands.

“Put me down, you…you…baboon with a mohawk!” she sputters inanely.

“And still so in love,” I answer, tongue firmly in cheek.

“Good to have you back, buddy,” Kyle slaps my back, grinning devilishly. “Let the games begin.”

[Deejonaise]

<center>Chapter 6</center>

~Channon~


I’m getting into the kiss, rather enjoying the way Cam’s tongue slides into my mouth again and again when Taylor grabs a handful of my shirt and yanks me back. “Enough with the PDA’s,” she announces, planting her hand squarely in her brother’s chest and shoving him from her bedroom and out into the hall, “Have a nice day.” She punctuates that artificially sweet statement by slamming the door in his face.

“Did you have to do that?” I ask dryly as I fall onto her bed, “That’s my groom you just kicked out.”

Taylor rolls her eyes in unconcern. “Is it really necessary that I have to see you two trying to suck each other’s faces off every time I turn around,” she returns just as dryly as she slips on her sandals.

“You were in the bathroom!” I cry by way of defense.

“Whatever,” she tosses back, obviously unconcerned with her unprovoked rudeness. I watch as she flitters over to her full-length mirror to check her reflection. “So what time do we need to be at the dress shop for our fitting?”

“Not for another hour and a half,” I say, folding myself into the middle of her bed, “Which gives us plenty of time to talk about Steven.”

She pins me with a glower that could shatter marble. I gulp. Taylor Evans is quite scary when she’s pissed off. This is a new observation for me because I don’t think I’ve ever seen her pissed off, not really anyway and definitely not at me.

“I don’t want to talk about Steven,” she enunciates through clenched teeth, “Isn’t it enough that he’s downstairs, sitting on my sofa, eating my food? I hope he chokes on a finger sandwich!”

I stare at her wide-eyed. Usually, I am the one wishing death on my enemies. However, it sounds strange coming from Taylor. “Oh…um…alrighty then.”

She levels me with a sour look. “Leave it alone, Channon.”

I recognize the signs. She’s about to shut down on me and I know I have to respond quickly if I’m ever going to coax her into conversation. Consequently, I blurt out the first thing that comes to my head. “Cam says you misunderstood the whole thi--,”

“I swear if you finish that sentence I’m going to scream and then I’m going to dive across this room and choke you to death!” she bursts out furiously. “God!” She rakes all ten fingers through her hair, pacing the length of her bedroom floor like an enraged tigress. “I told you what happened,” she cries tearfully, “He was practically naked, Chan! I don’t care what he told Cameron…I know what I saw! There’s no explaining it away because it was pretty obvious.”

I know it’s fruitless to argue with her. I’ve heard the story a dozen times already. She had let herself in through Steven’s bedroom window to surprise him but had gotten a surprise of her own. Instead of finding him alone, as she expected, she discovered him locked in the arms of another girl…and dressed only in his boxer shorts. I had spent most of the night comforting her while she sobbed her heart out over him.

Now, six months ago, I probably wouldn’t have hesitated to think the worst of Steven Kade. I would have written him off as a faithless dog and encouraged my friend to do the same. However, being with Cameron has taught me much about looking beneath what’s presented on the surface. I discovered that my childhood tormentor was much more than the jerk pretty boy he’d presented himself to be and amazingly, by tomorrow evening, I’ll be his wife.

So I’m looking at this Steven situation from an entirely different angle. Perhaps it makes me naïve wanting to believe him but…I’ve seen the way Steven looks at Taylor. That sort of blind adoration cannot be faked. I can still recall how he stood forlorn on the curb, waving goodbye to her when she left him behind for college last semester as well as his almost irrepressible eagerness when she came home to visit. I can’t believe he’d just fuck that up for no good reason so, yeah, I’m rather inclined to believe him when he says Caren Hardaway snuck into his bedroom and threw herself at him when he was half asleep. It just sucked that Taylor had the worst timing in the world to walk in at the precise moment he was trying to make the girl leave.

“I know what you’re thinking.” I jerk upright at her sharp observation, my cheeks heating when I meet her narrowed gaze. “You weren’t there,” she enunciates through clenched teeth, “And neither was Cam. I know what I saw.”

“Is it possible you misunderstood what was happening?” I query gently.

Her features darken with livid rage. “You wanna know what bites donkey butt?” she retorts angrily, “It’s how my family is so quick to jump on his side in this. First Mom, then Cam and now you! You guys act like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth! Hello, people! Steven cheated on me! He cheated and yet he doesn’t even have the balls to admit it even though I caught him red-handed. Maybe I…I could find a way to get past the whole Caren Hardaway thing if he, at least, owned up to it and apologized but he won’t even give me that satisfaction!

“And I can’t stand to listen to you and Cam and my mother take his side one more second,” she blazes, “So you wanna believe he’s a good guy…I can’t influence your opinion about that. But as for my opinion…it will be a cold day in hell before I ever give Steven Kade the time of day again!” She sucks in a great, dramatic breath, her eyes brightened with unshed tears. “Now can we please just drop it?”

“Um…well…technically you were the one to bring it up…” I point out tentatively. She fairly howls my name in annoyance. “Okay, okay,” I give, throwing up my hands in surrender, “There will be no more talk of he ‘who should have his balls sliced off and served to him for breakfast’.”

“Thank you,” she huffs.

“I aim to please,” is my cheeky reply, “So now what?”

“Everyone’s already downstairs,” Taylor says, “Why don’t we just go for the fitting? I doubt they will care if we’re a little early.”

“You mean right now?” I bleat, “But they’re not expecting us for another hour!”

She tosses me a pleading look. “Chan, I have to get out of here,” she whimpers desperately, “I can’t be in this house with him one more second. Please can we just go?” Her pleading look is too much for me and I answer her with a glum nod.

When we descend downstairs it’s to find the “boys” rough housing in the living room. Max, Michael, Kyle, and several cousins wrestle about on the floor while the womenfolk cluck around them and admonish their childish behavior. Alex cheers them on from the outskirts, obviously enjoying the rough play even as he doesn’t join in. Only Steven and Cam seem sedated. They sit together on the sofa, conversing together in low tones. Normally such tranquil behavior would be a pleasing thing but when I look at Taylor and note her waxy complexion as well as the betrayed glare she shoots in Cameron’s direction I know it’s not so good.

As if each of them senses our presence, Steven and Cam jerk their gazes in our direction, their eyes lighting with identical joy at seeing us. In that second I’m more convicted than before. Nope, whatever is going on with Steven and Taylor right now I know for a fact he definitely didn’t cheat on her. His look clearly states that he doesn’t want any other woman but her. I should know. I see the look often enough in Cameron’s eyes.

“Okay…um…we’re going to leave,” I announce shakily, hoping to alleviate the tension building in the room before it gets out of hand. The raucous thumping in the room gradually dies down and more than a dozen pairs of eyes swing around to regard me. I try not to laugh as Max attempts to give me his full attention while holding Michael in a headlock. “It’s time for the fitting,” I say finally.

Julie does a reflexive glance at her watch and frowns. “I didn’t think that was for another hour,” she comments.

While casting what I hope are surreptitious glances in Taylor’s vicinity I say and not dishonestly, “I thought we could all grab some lunch before hand.”

As the women spring into activity, gathering together their purses, kissing their husbands and leaving last minute instructions for care of the smaller ones, Cameron and I drift off together into a quiet corner.

“Why are you leaving so early?” he asks anxiously.

“It’s either stay and watch Taylor rip Steven and you a new asshole,” we both pause to study the aforementioned malevolently fingering a letter opener as she regards Steven with a narrowed stare, “…or I can prevent some bloodshed and take her out of the house,” I finish inanely.

Cameron shudders. “Yeah, do that,” he agrees, pulling me closer for a kiss. “I’m going to miss you.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh whatever,” I snort, “Are you putting on this cutesy sweet show for your mother’s benefit, is that it?”

He grins into my mouth. “Gotta keep up appearances, babe.”

“You’re such a pussy,” I tell him.

“But I’m your pussy,” he emphasizes with a chuckle, “And since we’re speaking of pussy…” But before we can kiss and nibble as planned Max’s laughing voice sounds from behind us.

“Can’t you two save it for tomorrow? You got people waiting.”

Sure enough all the ladies are gathered around us their expressions ranging from patiently expectant to sappy and nostalgic. Matching blushes color both our faces even as we roll our eyes.

“You two look so sweet together,” Julie sniffles, snagging hold of Isabel who stands off to her left, “Isabel, go find a camera so I can take a picture.” We don’t leave for another fifteen minutes because Cam’s mother is determined to “capture the moment.”

During the fitting Taylor is unusually quiet but her taciturn demeanor is hardly noticed among the dozen or so chattering women that have accompanied us. They ooh and ahh over the bridesmaids gowns while Maria laments the loss of her waistline and everyone admires the new fullness of Liz’s bust.

“I hope I never lose them,” she tells the group, admiring her cleavage in the full length mirror as we all snicker, “It’s one of the best things about breastfeeding.”

Isabel glances down at her own ample cleavage. “Um…I think I’ve got more than enough already,” she laughs, “Or at least Alex seems to think so…”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Maria chuckles, “Michael can’t get enough of my tits now. I walk into the room and all activity just stops.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Tess snickers.

“Girls!” Diane admonishes them; with a pointed look in my, Taylor’s and her sixteen year old niece’s direction, “Not in front of the children, please.”

Taylor and I exchange a laughing look. What are we…six? “Um…you don’t have to worry about us, Aunt Diane,” Taylor jokes, “I think Channon and I are way beyond the corrupting stage. We know all about the ins and outs of sex.”

“Taylor Evans!” her mother cries out in horror.

“I mean…we’ve read about it,” she stammers in quick correction before bestowing her mother with a dazzling smile of innocence.

“Yeah…read about it,” I grunt in agreement.

Her mother’s mollified look is stifled when Georgia, the sixteen-year-old cousin, giggles beside us. Both Julie and Diane level her with a quelling glance and she darkens to a bright red.

“I don’t know anything about it either except for what I watch on tv!” she blurts and when they don’t appear satisfied with that answer she adds on desperately, “And I quickly change the channel whenever that happens!”

“Very good,” Diane commends, patting her head, “That’s a good girl.” Behind us Liz, Isabel, Maria and Tess laugh it up.

I’m the last to be fitted and the moment is somewhat sacred because this is the first time I see myself in full wedding garb, dress, veil and shoes. As I stand before the full-length mirror and take in my appearance I hardly recognize the girl staring back at me. She is smiling, confident…barely resembling the scared, mistrustful girl I had been. Oh, I know she’s still lurking about somewhere but her voice is faint now. I can hardly hear her.

When I walk from the spacious fitting room, my sequined train dragging behind me I can feel tears prick the backs of my eyes. It’s almost surreal. I’m getting married. Me. Channon Davis. Who was pretty certain she was unloved and would be unlovable for the rest of her life. However, tomorrow I will become Mrs. Cameron Evans and officially become apart of the family I’ve been an unofficial member of since as long as I can remember.

There is a part of me that laments and hurts at the fact that none of my blood family is here to share this day with me. Of course, my father probably would have leapt at the chance given the fact he’s been recently overtaken with the need to atone. Too bad I’m having none of that. You snooze, you lose, pal. Yup, I’m still bitter over that one.

Yet, strangely, I don’t have the same apathy for my mother. Probably because I can, at least, understand where she was coming from. After all, she was the scorned spouse. It was little wonder she turned to the bottle, little wonder that she became so neglectful after Dad left us. Even before the divorce it was painfully obvious how miserable she was so I excuse her to an extent. There’s an undeniable part of me that certainly wishes she was here even as I’m angry with myself for feeling that way at all.

The thoughts are still beating around in my head when I enter the main room where the ladies are waiting. A collective gasp goes up once they see me. The tears blurring my vision spill over, however, when I look over to my future mother-in-law and see the beaming pride stamped all over her face. She drifts over to where I stand, her lower lip trembling.

“Oh, sweetheart…” she whispers reverently, framing my face with her hands, “Cameron is not going to know what hit him.” We engage in a tender hug as the others surround us.

“He’s going to cry when he sees you,” Liz whispers quietly, “I know Max did.”

“You really think I look okay?” I wonder self-consciously, smoothing my hands down the front of my bodice, “The fit is just a little big cuz I’ve lost some weight.”

“Little wonder with all the worrying you’ve been doing,” Isabel laughs.

“Sweetie, you look beautiful,” Tess pipes, “It almost makes me want to marry that idiot Valenti.” Everyone chortles a laugh over this and she shrugs sheepishly. “Well, just to see what I’d look like in the dress at least.”

We linger at the dress shop for half an hour more so the seamstress can make the final alterations to my gown. Afterwards we go out for dinner and drinks together for my unofficial bachelorette party. I can’t stay long because I know that Kyle is expecting me back at the house for Cameron’s “surprise.” I make my lame excuse about having to meet up with Cameron before he leaves and bid my bridesmaids and family goodnight. So while the ladies continue the party without me Liz drives me back home so I can “suit up” for my gig.

She smirks at me across the darkened interior of the car, shaking her head slightly. “I can’t believe you’re going through with this,” she giggles.

“And I can’t wait to see the look on his face,” I laugh in return.

For a moment I think she might admonish me but then her expression turns naughty. She bites her lip in contemplation before asking, “What are you going to wear?”

“Just a pair of tassels and a smile,” I toss back with a ribald grin.

“Girl, you are so bad!”

Kyle is chomping at the bit when we arrive at the house, pacing the carpet in frantic circles. “Where have you been?” he demands anxiously, “Max left with Cam half an hour ago. We’ve been stalling him so you have time to get into the cake.”

“No problem,” I say, breezing past him, “Just give me five minutes to change and we can head on over to the hotel.”

Kyle perks after me. “Change?” he teases, bobbing his eyebrows, “Mind if I watch? I mean…since we’re not going to have a real stripper and all…if you wanna give us a little show…” If it were anyone other than Kyle I might be offended but since I know he’s harmless I simply roll my eyes.

However, Liz isn’t so amused. After ordering him to “shaddup” she thwacks him in the back of the head. The last sounds I hear as I head downstairs to change are his echoing “ows” of pain and pleas for Liz to grant him mercy.

[Applebylicious]

Here is la update! Okay, I promise it won't be this long between them from now on, lol. Enjoy...


<center>Chapter 7</center>

~Cameron~


“You know…this isn’t really necessary,” I say over the loud roar of rock music and laughing. No one even looks my way. Clearing my throat, I try again. “I’m actually feeling kind of tired…”

“No way, nuh uh,” Kyle slurs, catching sight of me as I attempt to move away. He slings an arm over my shoulder and pulls me up against his side while shouting, “Another round for the groom-to-be ladies!”

“Kyle…I’m nineteen,” I manage as a top-heavy waitress snapping on a piece of gum walks by with a platter of beers, winking a set of flirty lashes at me before the guys all clammer for a glass.

“Oh…I’m sorry,” Kyle clucks, shaking his head back and forth as Michael snickers. “I forgot you’ve never had alcohol before. What the hell was I thinking, Cam? I feel like such a bad influence, such a peer-pressurer…”

I catch Steven’s eyes and we both mouth peer pressurer? I make a face and grab for the next passing glass of beer as we all settle in for Kyle’s tirade.

“…should be tied to that pole over there and flogged for my sins!” he finishes in a loud voice as everyone rolls their eyes and the waitresses giggle. He takes a deep breath, downs his beer and hoots.

“Someone’s going to be flogged all right,” Max grumbles good-naturedly as he tugs Kyle away from a playful overture to a busty blonde woman. “That isn’t Tess, pal,” my cousin sighs his familiar line over the night’s events.

“It’s not?” Kyle asks in drunken confusion. “Are you sure? Tess…why you running?”

“Good God, Valenti. Shut the hell up,” Michael thwacks him upside the head as he stands up. “Listen, Cam. We all know what a rush you’re in to get back to the old ball-and-chain.”

“Hey!” Max and I state at the same time with mutual looks of distaste. “There’s nothing wrong with marriage,” Max says at the same time I add, “There’s no chains, all right?”

Steven erupts into a coughing fit, which Kyle responds to by shoving a glass of beer under his nose. Steven gratefully takes the mug and gulps as I frown. “Aren’t you a cop?” I wonder. “You sure are trying hard to get a bunch of minors drunk.” I look meaningfully between Steve and me.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Kyle answers. “This is a private party, okay? P-r-i-v…ah hell, you know how it’s spelled.” He stops and lets out a loud burp before continuing, “Anyway…what was I talking about?”

“Oh God,” Max groans, covering his eyes and shaking his head woefully. “Kyle…you never could hold your alcohol.”

“Hey, I resent that!”

“Wow,” Steven says slowly, blinking rapidly as he watches Kyle in action. “This is some scary shit.”

“Tomorrow…he won’t feel a thing. That’s what’s scary,” I remark wryly.

“It’s your bachelor party,” Kyle pouts, crossing his arms and dropping into his seat with a humph of indignation. “Can’t a guy break a few rules for a friend’s wedding?”

A chorus of “aww”s sound from Steven, Michael and Max. I glare at them all but can’t keep from laughing. “Yeah, whatever. I just don’t look forward to having a hangover tomorrow morning. I think I’ll stop here, all right? And it is getting pretty late…”

It’s only around eleven o’clock. The bar is only starting to get packed and we’ve only been out for a few hours. The truth is…I miss Channon. I miss her smile, her laugh, her sexy lips as they travel over my…

“Good God, what the fuck are you thinking about?” Kyle’s obnoxious tone bellows out and I wince as I look down to see the definite bulge in my faded jeans.

“Looks like it might be time for your surprise,” Max grins, exchanging a glance with Michael. “Whaddaya say, boys?”

“Oh, definitely,” Michael agrees with a wicked expression on his face. He rubs his hands together and inclines his head towards Kyle. “Wouldn’t you agree…Kyle?!”

“That’s not Tess, dude!” Max catches Kyle’s arm as he attempts to walk past the table.

“You know, after this…it’s kind of hard to take him seriously,” Steven mumbles as the rest of us suppress chuckles.

“Who the hell ever took Valenti seriously?” Michael wonders.

“Fuck you, all of you,” Kyle states succinctly and takes a low bow. As he stands back up, he reels and presses a hand to his head while mumbling, “Shit.”

“I’m outta here,” I laugh, pushing back my chair and chewing on the end of a toothpick. “Someone call an escort for our dear officer of the law.”

“Not so fast,” Michael and Max say at the same time, standing up to block me in as Steven takes up the back.

“What the hell…” is all I can get out before I find myself being dragged across the room where a perky brunette waitress is holding open a door. “Hey!”

“Have fun, cuz!” Max chuckles as he heaves me inside. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That’s so cliché,” I hear Kyle exclaim. “Do it all, Cameron! Do it all for the nookie, man!”

“Guys!” I bellow, slamming a fist against the door as my eyes attempt to adjust to the dim lighting. “This isn’t funny, let me the fuck out! Guys! Max, Michael…Steve? I’m gonna beat the shit out of all of you!”

No answer, only the suppressed sound of music through the heavy door. I jiggle the knob again, but it’s securely locked. I’m securely locked in.

“Fuck!” I mumble, kicking the door before turning around with a pained sigh to take in my surroundings. It looks like a normal enough room…muted walls, scattered boxes, a high-backed chair…a giant birthday cake sitting in the middle of the floor.

“Oh Christ!” I let out a guffaw, rubbing my eyes in disbelief as I walk hesitantly towards the huge pastry. “They didn’t…they couldn’t have…I said no strippers.”

As if in slow motion, the top of the cake is thrown off as a figure pops out. “Surprise!”

I stare in shock as Channon smiles back at me, completely naked save for two swinging tassels adorning each breast. “Holy fucking shit!” I manage, blinking as she starts swaying her hips back and forth and doing some sexy little dance that has the lap of my jeans tightening and my tongue falling out to roll across the floor. “Channon?”

“Happy birthday, Mr. Evans,” she whispers in a provocative Marilyn voice. “Come closer…”

In my state of shock, I decide to state the obvious. “What the fuck are you doing in a cake?”

Her hands drop from where she’s beckoning me and she rolls her eyes. “What does it look like? I’m being a stripper, now c’mere!”

“You’re being a stripper?” I echo.

“Yes,” she hisses, blowing a chunk of silky hair from her face. “Dammit, Cameron…you aren’t supposed to ask twenty questions!”

I stare at the sight of her, dark and sultry and…naked. Her eyes flashing as she pouts her glossy lips and tosses her head. Drool begins to gather in my mouth. “Baby…you just popped out of a cake…” I try to point out. “Give me just…a second,” I add hoarsely as she starts to get out, grumbling as one long leg slides over the side of the cake.

Okaay…so not entirely naked. My eyes glue on the tiny black thong covering her ass as she shimmies out of the cake. “Damn woman!” I reach down to adjust myself as I stare at her through heated eyes.

“What?” She turns around, leaning on one hip while eyeing me back. Her lips curve in understanding and she runs her hands through her hair, tumbling the curls down her shoulders as she lets out a little purring sound. “Like what you see?” she teases playfully.

“Uh huh,” I answer truthfully, licking my lips hungrily. And my hunger has nothing to do with the cake sitting a few feet away. “C’mere,” I add huskily, then my brows snap together. “Wait a minute…the guys were in on this?”

“Yes,” she answers slowly, wrapping her arms around me and nibbling on my ear. “Come sit down.”

“They saw you like this?” I hiss, snatching away and glaring as she teeters. “Channon Davis!”

“Cameron Evans!” she retorts, scowling in frustration. “No…they didn’t see me like this, you goob! Now are you gonna shut up and sit in that chair so I can give you a lap dance, or are you gonna keep talking until all our time is up?” She points over to the lone chair and cocks a brow.

“Lap dance?” my voice cracks. “In…in that?” I nod towards the tassels and thong.

“Yes!”

“Okay,” I state meekly, turning around and walking towards the chair like a reprimanded little boy. When I glance over my shoulder, she’s rolling her eyes and mumbling under her breath. I sit down, patting my lap and grinning. “So what are you waiting for, baby?”

“Now you get demanding?” she asks. “I pop out of a cake, naked, and all you can do is ask me why I’m popping out of a cake naked? You know, any other guy would have had his hands all over me by now and there wouldn’t be any questioning—”

I growl and yank her into my lap, covering her mouth hotly. Her fingers bury into my hair, a soft moan escaping her throat as I lift a hand to mold her breast. “What other guys?” I whisper meaningfully as I nip her lower lip.

“What?” she asks in a dazed voice, her eyes heavy and glazed. “Cameron…”

Duly satisfied, I lower my mouth again and the kiss explodes as she straddles my lap and starts playing with the button on my jeans. Pulling away to help, I manage in a hoarse rasp, “I thought you were gonna dance for me?”

“I am,” she answers just as thickly. “You just need to be naked first.”

Within seconds, I am. She throws her head back as my lips close around one ripe nipple, her hips undulating along the ridge of my erection as soft sighs and groans fill the air. I lick a trail to her other breast, tugging on the fringed bobble before tossing it over my shoulder.

“Those are ridiculous,” I chuckle, glancing up from beneath my lashes to meet her flushed expression. “God, I can’t wait till you’re mine…for real.”

She looks surprised by my words. “I am yours,” she answers, and sinks down on my erection. “I’m yours, Cam…I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I groan, dropping my head back as she rides me. “Oh God…”

We both shout as orgasms rip through us, and thanks to the absence of arms on the chair, we go toppling over onto the floor. As I land on top of her, she giggles and moans as I push my hips against hers.

“Wow…”

“Yeah,” I nuzzle her nose and chuckle huskily. “Wow.”

[Deejonaise]

<center>::IMPORTANT ANNOUCEMENT::</center>

Attention all readers:

Due to recent personal events, I will no longer be able to continue writing this, or any other Roswell fanfiction. I won't go into the details here, but if you need to know you can PM my good friend and co-writer Lindsay (Applebylicious) and she'll explain further. I expressly apologize to everyone who has read and enjoyed this fic, but it just isn't possible for me to continue in the Rosfic fandom, or any other fandom for that matter.

Lindsay and I want you all to know that we truly are touched by the response this series has garnered, and that everything would have worked out in the end. Remember that, and hopefully it will provide a moment of satisfaction.

I've encouraged Lindsay to continue this if she feels like she wants to, but in all honestly I doubt it will happen seeing as how she is extremely busy herself with her own fics and a new pregnancy.

So, this is the end of the line. Once again, thank you all and I'll miss each and every one of you.

- Dee

[Eccentric One]

Due to the above author's note, this story has been moved to the Dead and Buried forum. If Applebylicious does decide ton continue this story, a mod will need to be contacted and the story will be unlocked and returned to the AU forum for updates.

Kara