by Jewel E. Ann
I guess that means I don’t love you as much because I can’t set you free. And no matter how much I try to hate you—I will always love you more.
My tears blur the ink, so I swipe them away and move the box before I can’t read his final words.
It’s funny … I write on these postcards for you, but I never say a word about the places I’ve visited. I’m not sure I’ve taken a single picture. Nothing I’ve seen has come close to taking my breath away like you do. The world is a big place. You could get lost, forgetting where you came from, not caring where you go.
Not me. My travels have taught me only one thing … every place I’ve been has simply been a place without you.
SafetySuit, “Never Stop”
Love, Bodhi
“Where are you?” I yell, setting the box aside and jumping to my feet. I turn in circles, looking at the other yachts and the people on the pier.
When I don’t see him, I take off running toward the back of the yacht, pushing and shoving my way past Juni’s and Zach’s friends.
“Henna?” My mom tries to stop me. Her tears are gone, replaced with a wrinkle of confusion because I’m clenching my fists and gritting my teeth.
Am I mad? No. I’m livid.
I run off their yacht and down the way to Hell and High Water. Stopping, I let more tears fall as Bodhi comes into view on the back of my yacht. He’s dressed in a blue suit with a white and gray tie. I hate him for looking so incredible.
“No.” I shake my head. “You can’t be part of my life when it’s convenient for you. Christmas? My birthday? No. Not okay. You sent me a fraction of the postcards that I sent you.” I run my hands through my hair, releasing a painful laugh. “Hell, you didn’t even send them to me. You were too fucking chicken to say all the words that needed to be said, even if they hurt.”
“Henna …” He steps toward me. “I’m sorry.”
I continue to shake my head. “Nope. Not good enough. Your favorite line has always been I don’t deserve you. Well, guess what? You’re right. You don’t deserve me.” Turning, I stomp off. I have no clue where I’m going, just away from Bodhi Malone.
“Jesus, Henna …” He chases after me.
I speed up my walk, but my dress is tight, constricting my stride.
“Wait!” He grabs my arm.
I don’t turn.
He steps around me, positioning himself in front of me. “What will it take?”
This pisses me off more. I brush past him.
Again, he grabs my arm. “No!”
I clench my teeth, fighting back the emotions that have plagued me since the day I met Bodhi Malone. I fell so fucking hard for him; I’m certain it will be impossible to recover in this lifetime.
His hands grab my face. “Anything. I will do anything. Do you want me to swim after your yacht? Beg? Plead? Promise my life to you in blood? Lasso the moon and capture the stars?”
We remain statuesque and unblinking.
“Yes,” I whisper.
In spite of the emotions reddening his eyes, he narrows them a bit as if he can’t believe I just said yes. “Yes to which one?”
Tipping my chin up to let him know I’m no longer his secret, his forbidden, his undeserving indulgence, I draw in a shaky breath. “All. I want it all. I deserve it all. You said SafetySuit, ‘Never Stop.’ Do you know the lyrics? Because I do and they’re big. They’re begging and pleading; they’re lassoing the moon and capturing the stars. They’re endless.”
He nods slowly, blinking away his emotions as the corners of his mouth turn up a fraction.
“You’d better make this matter, Mr. Malone. You said you can do the right thing, or you can love me. I will always choose love. I will always choose you.”
Bodhi’s hint of a smile turns into the real deal, and he drops one knee and then the other. “Forever, Bodhi and Henna,” he whispers, bowing his head to my stomach as he rests his hands on my hips.
“Dave Matthews, ‘You and Me?’” I whisper, running my hands through his hair.
He eases his head side to side. “No … Train, ‘Marry Me.’”
My breath hitches as I shake my head. “Don’t say it unless you—”
“I mean it.” He looks up, those blue eyes shining like the sunset on the sea. His hand reaches into his suit coat pocket, pulling out a ring. “Henna Eve Lane—”
“Yes.”
He frowns. It’s adorable, especially when he’s on both knees. Looking over his shoulder toward the crowd gathered on The Juniper watching us, he sighs. “You’re killing me, babe. I had a whole big speech planned out. They’re over there waiting for the big proposal.”
“They’re waiting for you to slide that ring on my finger and kiss me. They’re waiting for you to carry me to that smaller yacht. They’re waiting to see us sail to the end of the world because that’s our happily ever after.”
Bodhi slides the ring on my finger, twists my hand, and presses his lips to the inside of my wrist. “I think they’re finally one and the same.”
“What is?”
He stands.
The crowd cheers. We grin.
“Loving you is the right thing to do. It’s the only thing to do.”
I slide my arms around his neck and pull him down to me so we’re a breath away from kissing. “You smell like lemon.”
Bodhi grins. “This girl told me I needed to come to Italy for the best lemon drops.”
I ghost my lips over his. “Take me to the end of the world, Bodhi. Let’s make little rock stars. Let’s be limitless.”
“Bodhi and Henna,” he whispers. “Sounds like my favorite kind of Hell.” Blue eyes come to life, and his white teeth peek through his grin two seconds before he kisses me, sweeps me up into his arms, and takes me to our forever.
The world is big, but our time here is small and precious. Life is meant to be lived, not solved. And love … well, it’s like a white T-shirt with french fries and ketchup. It’s messy, but worth the risk.
EPILOGUE
Bodhi
“PUT ME ON your shoulders so I can see!” Henna tugs at my hand as everything goes dark for the band to take the stage.
“If you wanted a better view, then we should have stayed backstage.” I smirk, knowing there’s no way Henna wants to watch this performance from anywhere but immersed in the middle of the sold-out venue. “Baby, I’m getting too old to carry you around on my shoulders.” I lift her up, and she ignores my comment.
A single spotlight shines on a beautiful, seventeen-year-old girl from India. The crowd goes insane screaming “Zoya” as she remains statuesque with perfect posture, left hand high on the cello neck, bow in her poised right hand. When the bow hits the strings, it silences the crowd, except for my wife.
“Oh my god, Bodhi … that’s our baby.” I don’t have to see her face to know that it’s marked with streams of happy tears.
After a classical solo, the rest of the stage lights up, and the other three band members join in, bringing the rest of the venue to their feet. It feels like the most incredible Bach and Mozart mashup with edgy rock undertones of Metallica and The Rolling Stones.
The world of Bodhi and Henna has been filled with tragedy, obstacles, and a whole lot of life. After years of failing to conceive a child, we decided to adopt a three-year-old girl from India, who we met on our travels when she was two. Her name was Zoya which means shining or life. She instantly took a liking to Henna. She even cried when we had to leave—so did Henna.
It was a long year of jumping through all the adoption hoops, but a week before Zoya’s third birthday, we brought her home to California. Yeah, we live in California now, just outside of L.A. so we’re close to my VP job at ZIP Tunes, close to Zoya’s grandparents, and close to her other band members.
Henna’s bracelet-adorned arms shoot up in the air. “That’s our rock star!”
Zoya has no interest in singing, but from an early age, she’s had sick talent at playing any instrument we put in her little
hands. And her music-loving family has given her the opportunity to play all the instruments. Cello is simply her favorite.
So, Zach and I set out to find some up-and-coming talent who would complement her gift, and that’s how the band A World Away was born.
Four members from four different countries on their first U.S. tour, and their debut album has already gone platinum.
“Yeah,” I say, knowing no one can hear me over the music, “that’s our girl.” It’s not just my sappy wife—tears burn my eyes too as goose bumps shoot up along my arms.
How is this my life?
I steady Henna’s legs with one arm while taking some video of our daughter then turn the camera to take video of her mother on my shoulders. I send the short clip to Henna with a single song message.
Me: OneRepublic “I Lived”
A few seconds later, her fingers lovingly run through my hair.
*
Henna
WE GET LESS than ten minutes to congratulate Zoya and her band members after the concert before they’re swept onto the tour bus.
“You’re my idol, baby girl. We’ll see you in Seattle tomorrow.” I give her a big hug.
“Thanks. Love you, Mom.”
Bodhi pulls her into his arms, lifting her off the ground and swinging her around. It makes my heart do funny flips because they are so close. He’s devoted his life to her. I remind him every day that he’s a wonderful father just like his father.
“Dad, I was so nervous.”
He kisses Zoya’s cheek and sets her back on her feet. “That’s how you know you’re living. If your heart’s not racing, if your teeth aren’t chattering, then you’re not doing it right.”
She curls her long, black hair behind her ears and grins. “Then I was doing it so right.” She raises both of her arms to him for high fives.
When he lifts his arms, his T-shirt rides up enough for me to see the bottom part of his two tattoos—his world connected on his torso.
When the buses pull out of the parking lot, Bodhi reaches for my hand, and we interlace our fingers like we’ve done for the last twenty-three years together. He lifts our joined hands and kisses the inside of my wrist over my permanent tattoos.
Yeah, some things in life are permanent, like the love I have for my husband and our daughter.
“I love you more, baby,” he whispers over my skin.
I grin. The hate, the immaturity, the fear, the pain … it’s no longer part of us. Henna and Bodhi are simply more. More love. More days of living. More nights of passion. Just so much more …
“I love you always.” I turn into his body and press my lips to his sternum.
It’s been twenty years since Barrett died. Twenty years since we realized we were more than us. We are the people and the circumstances that surround us. We broke more than once, but love and time put us back together—and family.
Bodhi lived his own nomad life after his dad died, and he did it because Barrett swallowed his pride and asked for a huge favor from Juni.
“Bodhi will not understand why Henna helped me die. He will need time and distance. But … he will come back to her. I know it in my heart. So, I guess I’m asking you to make an investment in our children’s future.”
And she did. Juni made sure Bodhi got on a plane. She made sure he didn’t know it was her paying for his travels. She took him away from me, trusting that it was the only way he’d truly come back to me. Then magic happened. Fate? Maybe. Bodhi contacted my mom with an idea to do something special for my birthday … and the rest is history.
It wasn’t until after we were married that Juni told us about her conversation with Barrett, and how he had a hand in putting Henna and Bodhi back together. She did it because it bothered Bodhi that his dad watched them struggle with money, yet apparently had a greenback-stuffed coffee can hidden somewhere.
I tip my chin up. He looks down at me. We share a few moments of silence where so many things are said without saying anything at all.
He grins.
I grin.
“Hi. Remember me?”
Bodhi rubs his lips together and nods slowly. “I’m pretty sure you’re still my greatest memory.”
The End
Acknowledgments
Thank you to my readers. If you’re reading this, I assume you didn’t DNF. My family gives my words meaning, you give them purpose. It’s an honor to share my imagination with you.
Kambra, thank you for taking my forbidden romance idea and adding legalized marijuana. If I ever get high, I want it to be with you—and Mom, of course.
A special thank you to Dustin for making my office/home a beautiful and inspirational place to write—and for encouraging me to keep writing since I went so far over budget.
Thank you to the usual suspects and a few new ones. Leslie, Kambra, Monique, Shauna, Sherri, Sian, Bethany, and Amy, my words would not shine without your sharp eyes. And a special thank you to my editor, Max, I started this sentence with “and” just to piss you off. I love working with you.
Thank you to Cleida for keeping my stories alive on Facebook. You are a dearly treasured friend.
Jenn, Sarah, and Brooke with Social Butterfly PR, thank you putting my books in front of so many bloggers and readers.
Sarah with Okay Creations, you did it again. Beautiful cover.
My Jonesies, you are my people, and I have THE BEST people. Thank you for your encouraging words and sharing your love of my stories.
AND THEN … there is Jenn Beach aka The World’s Best Assistant—I’m out of words to accurately show proper gratitude for everything you do. So I’m going to keep it simple and just say thank you for giving me boobs, abs, and bad-ass biceps in 2018!
Tim, Logan, Carter, and Asher, you give every breath true meaning. I love you beyond words, which says a lot because words are my thing.
Also by Jewel E. Ann
Jack & Jill Series
End of Day
Middle of Knight
Dawn of Forever
Holding You Series
Holding You
Releasing Me
Transcend Series
Transcend
Epoch
Standalone Novels
Idle Bloom
Only Trick
Undeniably You
One
Scarlet Stone
When Life Happened
Look the Part
jeweleann.com
About the Author
Jewel is a free-spirited romance junkie with a quirky sense of humor.
With 10 years of flossing lectures under her belt, she took early retirement from her dental hygiene career to stay home with her three awesome boys and manage the family business.
After her best friend of nearly 30 years suggested a few books from the Contemporary Romance genre, Jewel was hooked. Devouring two and three books a week but still craving more, she decided to practice sustainable reading, AKA writing.
When she’s not donning her cape and saving the planet one tree at a time, she enjoys yoga with friends, good food with family, rock climbing with her kids, watching How I Met Your Mother reruns, and of course…heart-wrenching, tear-jerking, panty-scorching novels.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Also by Jewel E. Ann
About the Author