“I don’t want Jack around you,” Tyler insisted, taking my ass in both hands.
“Neither do I,” I assured him. “Not right now anyway.”
“Easton,” he warned, not liking the sound of that.
I opened my heavy lids and pushed myself up, my dark hair tickling my breasts.
“He wouldn’t have hurt me,” I said, staring down at him and running my hands up his chest.
“You don’t know that,” he pointed out. “He needs help.”
“I know.” I nodded. “I won’t agree to even the possibility of being in touch with him unless he gets some help first.”
I looked down at Tyler, ready to cry because I loved him so much. I touched him everywhere, my hands running over his chest and down his arms and then coming up to graze his face with my fingertips.
I rolled my hips, feeling him grow hard under me.
“Can you take me to my apartment in the morning?” I asked. “I need to take care of something.”
He kneaded my hips and ass, his breathing growing labored. “Of course,” he answered. “But I want you to stay here for a while.”
I shook my head, giving him a gentle “no.”
“Easton,” he bit out, looking at me with less patience.
I fell forward, planting my hands on both sides of his head. “Yes, Mr. Marek,” I sang out.
I heard his sigh.
“It’s not that I don’t want to be here,” I rushed out, “but it’s my apartment, and I’ll come and go as I like.”
“Then I want Patrick taking you to and from —”
But I got in his face and scowled at him as he tried to tell me what to do.
“All right,” he bit out. “You’re right. It just doesn’t make it any easier.”
I grabbed his lips, nibbling and kissing softly.
“Really?” I cooed. “Could you say that again?”
He chuckled. “Say what?”
“The part about me being right,” I shot back.
“I didn’t say that,” he growled into my mouth as I began grinding on him.
I moaned, feeling his tongue flick my upper lip and then catch my bottom lip between his teeth.
“I love you, Mr. Marek,” I teased, closing my eyes and kissing him back.
The wet heat of his mouth as I plunged my tongue inside sent me reeling, and I ground myself against him faster.
He whipped off the sheet and reached between us, grabbing his cock.
“Do you feel safe?” he asked me again. “I just need to make sure you’re okay.”
I arched my neck back and lifted up, positioning his cock at my entrance and slowly sitting back down, sliding him inside of me.
Smirking, I started moving up and down his dick. “My OCD hasn’t kicked in, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
He gripped my hips, dragging his bottom lip between his teeth as he felt me from the inside. “I kind of miss it,” he breathed out. “It was cute.”
I smiled, rolling my hips faster and harder.
“I’m all for eight orgasms tonight if you want,” I told him. “Do you have Viagra?”
“Viagra?” He scowled and shot up, rolling me over onto my back and breathing against my lips as he ground between my hips. “You’re going to pay for that.”
After school the next day, Christian attended soccer practice, and Tyler took me to my apartment. The last time I had been there had been only a little more than a day ago, before the interview and before my brother’s confession.
Tyler hadn’t wanted me to deal with returning this morning before school for fresh clothes, so he had called a shop and had Patrick pick me up a new outfit.
But I needed to come back today. To rid myself of bad memories and move on.
Coming back downstairs, I met Tyler, who waited in the living room in front of the fireplace. Holding the ziplock bags in my hands, I stared at the letters, seeing my former coach’s writing peeking out from the mess of torn paper.
“They’re all the letters that Chase wrote me,” I told him. “His obsessions, threats…” I trailed off. “I had never seen them before my parents died, and it was only afterward that I realized the full extent of how he threatened me and my family.”
“Why did you keep them?” he questioned.
I looked up at him, his navy blue tie loosened against his white shirt and heather-gray suit.
“My parents, my sister, Avery…” I began. “They died because I put them on the road that night. I took a risk I shouldn’t have for my own selfish reasons, and I deserved to remember that.”
“Did you think you would forget what you lost?”
I paused and then dropped my head, sighing. No, I will never forget. I felt the pain of their deaths every day. But back then, taking any kind of a risk made me feel like there was no control. There was no “careful.”
For so long I had felt like I was in a stalemate with Chase, waiting for something to fucking happen, and when I finally chose to give up the control and say “Fuck it, let’s see what happens,” I liked it.
But I hadn’t realized that I wasn’t just risking myself. There were others I didn’t think about.
“I deserved to be punished,” I told him.
He touched my face, meeting my eyes. “You could never have known.”
No, I couldn’t. But carelessness brings consequences. I should’ve known that.
Which accounted for my behavior of making my life afterward as controlled as possible.
“Easton, there’s no line you can walk that’s safe enough,” Tyler implored. “You didn’t do anything out of malice. Crimes deserve to be punished. Mistakes deserve to be forgiven.”
I nodded, finally understanding the truth behind his words. And I was ready.
Opening the bags, I dumped the contents into the fireplace and lit a match from up on the mantel. Leaning down, I lit the scraps on fire and stood back upright, both of us watching them turn to ash.
Taking his hand, I breathed out a sigh of relief, finally feeling better than I had since before I could remember.
“Are you ever going to be careful with me?” I asked quietly, watching the flames burn bright.
“No.”
I looked up at him, my lips curling into a small smile. “Good.”
EPILOGUE
“
C
hin up,” the photographer instructed, smiling behind her camera.
I tilted my head up an inch, keeping it cocked slightly to the right, my relaxed smile still plastered on my face.
The shit I do for him.
I sat on the arm of a rich, brown leather chair, my legs crossed and my arm resting on Tyler’s shoulder as he sat in the chair, both of us posing for our engagement photos.
Correction: engagement-slash-campaign publicity photo representing our perfect American family’s high moral fiber. Riiiiight.
I dropped my eyes, feeling a blush heat my cheeks, remembering all the immoral things he’d done to me last night in our bed.
“Excellent,” the photographer cooed, snapping a few more shots as she leaned down again behind her tripod.
I kept my left hand on my thigh, the round black onyx stone set in a platinum band and surrounded by freshwater pearls visible in the pictures.
Tyler had pushed for a diamond ring, wanting the best, but Jay liked my idea of environmental awareness as good publicity. So many diamonds came from war-torn countries, so I decided to go with something different.
Hell, Kate Middleton, the Duchess of Cambridge, rocked a sapphire engagement ring. The times were changing.
Actually, I just liked the pearls. It was Jay who was selling the war-torn story.
“You look incredible,” Tyler commented, his white tie matching my cream-colored dress.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
Over the past few months, we’d dived deeper and deeper into the campaign, but elections were still six months away, and I knew he was concerned that his life took too much
of our time.
I looked down, running my thumb over the fff tattoo I’d gotten on the inside of my wrist when he’d proposed this past Mardi Gras at the very same annual ball where we first met the year before.
Family, fortune, and future.
He’d had the same letters tattooed, but his appeared on the outside of his wrist, right under where his watch sat.
To ensure that we never took our gifts for granted or lost track of what was truly important, we had promised each other to prioritize.
Family came first. Always first. We took care of each other and relied on each other. Without the family and without Christian, everything else would be worthless.
Fortune came next. It almost seemed shallow to have fortune before future, but we realized that fortune was more than wealth. It was health, goals, and maintaining what we had in the work we wanted to contribute to the world. Our fortune was the things for which we were thankful and the things we had to give.
Future came last. Private ambitions, plans for the years down the road, and other goals that could possibly take our attention away from each other and our jobs would be considered only if everything else was strong.
Christian had wanted to get the tattoo, too, but we’d told him that he had to wait until he turned eighteen.
And then Tyler took him to get the tattoo anyway.
That was fine. He could deal with Christian’s mother when she came home in July.
Tyler’s arm behind my back shifted, and I jerked, feeling his hand rub against my ass.
I cleared my throat, and I could feel his smile as he squeezed me.
Christian sat behind the camera, playing on his phone, while Jay stood off to my left, periodically instructing the photographer on what shots to take and what angles to shoot, as if she didn’t know already.
Walking up to me, he tried to pin something to my chest, and I knew right away that it was a flag.
I shot out my hand, shooing him away.
“Easton, really,” he chided.
“It’s tacky,” I burst out. “This is my engagement photo.”
I wasn’t turning it into a political statement. We’d already had that argument.
“Tyler.” Jay groaned. “A little help, please?”
Tyler simply shook his head, probably sick of Jay’s and my bickering.
“You’re handling the publicity,” I pointed out, glaring at Jay, “and I even let you pick the wedding date, because you whined about how good it would be for the campaign, but when you start to dress me, that’s when we have problems,” I snapped. “Capisce?”
“Everyone who’s anyone has a personal shopper, Easton,” he whined. “She can tell you which clothes are best for your coloring —”
But I yelped, cutting off Jay’s lecture, as my fiancé’s hands grabbed me and I fell into Tyler’s lap. His lips came down on mine, and I moaned, holding his face in my hands.
We pulled apart, laughing at each other, and I heard the camera click.
“Ah,” the photographer sang. “That’s the cover of New Orleans magazine.”
She looked at the screen of her digital camera, smiling.
“Now, Mr. Marek,” she instructed. “Would you stand, please, and move to your fiancée’s other side?”
Tyler rose from the chair and moved around to my left side, while I remained sitting.
She looked to me and asked, “Would you turn to him slightly and then cock your head a bit?”
I followed her directions, placing my arm around Tyler and leaning in to him as I tilted my head.
“Chin up,” she chirped, and disappeared behind her camera again.
Tyler’s scent invaded my head, and as much as I’d grown to love Christian, I was glad he was joining his friends in the country during spring break. Which started in a few days.
I still kept my apartment and would until the wedding in October, but it was getting harder and harder to stay there. Tyler and I found our time together when we could, and even though Christian wasn’t stupid – he’d caught me there early one morning, probably figuring out I had stayed the night – we did make a huge effort to not make it obvious or inappropriate.
I was still a teacher at his school, after all.
And I’d decided to stay there, even taking on tennis coaching responsibilities for the girls’ team for the next school year.
After the election, though, if Tyler won, we’d reevaluate whether or not we needed to relocate to Washington, D.C., for the length of his term.
For now, though, we simply worked on his campaign and planned the wedding, which we decided to have at Degas House to commemorate the paintings we discussed when we first met.
“I want my son in some photos as well,” Tyler said, and the photographer nodded.
I looked over at Christian, loving how close he and Tyler had become. They didn’t always have the same interests, but they’d found a lot of common ground and enjoyed doing things together.
Christian had even started tagging along with Tyler on some of his campaign trips around the state, touring factories and neighborhoods, and he was very interested in his father’s business. Not the office work part of it, but when Tyler had to take a trip to see equipment or check out a building site, Christian loved to join him as much as his school schedule allowed. Tyler was a good father, and he hardly went anywhere without Christian now.
Which got me thinking…
“We still haven’t talked about that,” I said under my breath just to him.
“What?” He glanced at me.
I licked my lips, not sure how I would answer the question I was about to ask. “Do you want children?” I questioned, and then corrected myself. “I mean, more children?”
Tyler blinked, looking surprised, and then I saw his gaze go to Christian before turning back to me.
“Yes,” he answered. “If it’s with you.”
My lips curled, and I felt strangely excited. A baby?
“You?” he hinted.
I inhaled a long, deep breath. “I think so.” And then I looked at him, nodding as realization hit. “Yeah. I’d love to have one or two.”
He leaned down and kissed me, his teasing lips making me promises for later that I couldn’t wait for.
“Do you think we can balance it all?” I spoke against his lips. “Our careers, the campaign, children…”
He let out a sigh and stood back upright. “All we can do is try,” he stated. “But we don’t break our commitment. Family, fortune, future,” he dictated. “None of it means anything without him or you.”
I tightened my arm around him, not giving a damn that I needed him so much. I’d gotten very good at being weak, and I wasn’t ashamed of it.
But in truth, I knew it wasn’t weak to need people. To need love and connection.
You’re only strong if you can stand on your own, right?
Nope.
The truth was, you’re happier when you’re needed and stronger when you’re loved.
I could survive without Tyler, but why would I want to? Ever?
Nothing could replace him or erase him.
Except…
I opened my mouth, narrowing my eyes. “I forgot to ask.” I looked at him with amused curiosity. “Which political party do you belong to?”
He broke out in a laugh, his chest shaking as he looked down at me.
“How is it that you don’t know that?” he exclaimed. “You researched me online.”
I shrugged. “I went to your website and social media, nosing around, but that was it.”
Although we’d had discussions about his platform, and I’d accompanied him here and there, I realized it was the one thing that never came up.
He shook his head and stared at the camera.
“So?” I hinted.
“So what?”
I instantly hooded my eyes, unamused. “Which political party are you a member of, Tyler?”
“Does it matter?” he played.
“It mi
ght,” I shot back.
But he just turned and wrapped me in his arms, bending me backward with the force of his kiss. I squealed under his lips and then let my eyes roll back, my head feeling dizzy, as his tongue entered my mouth.
“Ew.” I heard Christian’s complaint from across the room.
And then Jay. “All right,” he chastised. “I’m getting the child out of here.”
Tyler didn’t break the kiss as he shot out his hand, waving goodbye to them, while I tried not to giggle.
He definitely knew how to shut me up.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
First, to all of the teachers in the world – the days are endless, the workload only increases, and you’re not paid nearly what you’re worth. But you’re the greatest of all artists. Some paint with brushes, while others play guitars, carve wood, or perform onstage. But you work with living minds and diverse spirits and create dreams that cultivate futures. Thank you for everything you do!
Next, to the readers – this was the first book and the first characters I dived into after finishing the Fall Away series. So many of you have been there, sharing your excitement and showing your support, and I am continually grateful for your continued trust. I know my adventures aren’t always easy, but I love them, and I’m glad so many others do, too.
To my family – my husband and daughter put up with my crazy schedule, my candy wrappers, and my spacing off every time I think of a conversation, plot twist, or scene that just jumped into my head at the dinner table. You both really do put up with a lot, so thank you for loving me anyway.
To Kerry Donovan and the rest of the team at New American Library – you’ve all been a joy to work with, and you’ve helped make one of my dreams come true. Every time I see my book in a book store, I know I didn’t do that alone, and it makes me feel on top of the world. Thank you for helping me be the best I can be and for believing in me.
To Jane Dystel, my agent at Dystel and Goderich Literary Management – there is absolutely no way I could ever give you up, so you’re stuck with me. I mean, I would literally wrap my body around your leg and chain myself to your hip. I hope you like the way I smell, because I’m with you to stay.
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