Intimate Strangers (The Lisa Millar Series Book 1)
Page 24
“Any time, but now. Plus, you owe me a dance, and then have presents to open,” she told him, in an attempt to distract him.
“Oh! I forgot I had presents!” He turned to face the table and the five boxes. As he did, Jeremy slipped her an envelope which she handed straight to Chelsea to hold for a few moments – indicating not to open it, or tell anyone, or show anyone. Brad hurried back to the DJ station and put some Jason Mraz on while Jeremy set up the cake.
Taking AJ’s hand, Lisa led him to the dance floor. The song made them smile. The night she first heard it was the night after their first phone call. He’d said, “I sent you a song. It makes me smile and think of you.” She had opened her inbox where she had found what had quickly become one of her favorite songs. I’m yours.
The lyrics had made her cry. The fact that he had thought of her when he had heard it. She didn’t tell him at the time that she’d cried. She was way too embarrassed. She was an emotional girl. She had warned him that things like this had a huge effect on her.
When the song was over, they found their way back to the table. She gave Brad the thumbs up from across the room. The lights went dark. Everyone sang “Happy Birthday,” and she made him make a wish as he blew out the candles on the cake she’d picked out for him.
The cake was designed like a hockey rink, and said, “Happy birthday, Hockey Boy! All my love.” There was a little sweetie bunny stuck next to it. AJ smiled and kissed her. Then started to cut the cake. Before he’d gotten too far, Jeremy hollered, “Time for presents, Pim!”
Chapter 46
“Number one?” AJ asked, turning to Lisa for confirmation that it was ok to open them. She nodded. This was embarrassing. She hadn’t planned on doing this in the bar, and she hadn’t run it past anyone. It was impulsive. Her original plan had been to just give him the envelope, but she figured this would be more fun. She was now sort-of regretting it. It was supposed to be a guessing game. Something to spice things up a bit for his birthday. As he turned to face the boxes, she quickly reclaimed the envelope from Chelsea who was still closely guarding it.
He shook the box, then paused.
“Is it ok to shake?” he asked her with a concerned look.
“Yup,” she answered grinning. “They all are.”
He opened the lid and inside she had shredded tons of tissue paper, so he’d have to look for what was inside. It was a little model plane.
“You’re going back to Ireland, dude!” Jeremy shouted. “I bet she got you a ticket to Ireland, man.” He was drunk. This amused her. She giggled and told him to shut up.
Looking bemused, AJ closed the lid on the box. He sat it on the table with the model airplane on top of it.
“Can I go on?” he asked tentatively.
“Sure, work away,” she told him as the confusion returned to his face, and color to hers.
Box number two. He shook it and opened the lid. More tissue paper. This box held a tree, a maple tree to be precise. She knew not many people would be able to easily identify a maple tree, but she was sure AJ would know what it was.
“It’s a tree. Ireland has trees. It’s pretty green. I think you’re going to Ireland,” Mike chimed in. “Jeremy’s right.”
More confusion, as he placed the tree on top of the box and regarded the airplane, and then the tree, and then the airplane again – as if searching for a connection.
Crap. He hasn’t figured it’s a maple tree, she thought worriedly.
He opened box number three to find a puck. Realization began to dawn on him, as he smiled a half smile, though still looking a little confused.
Box four contained a tin of oil.
As he stared at the four objects sitting on top of their respective boxes, he turned to her and grinned.
“You know what it is?” she asked him.
“I have an idea,” he replied.
Realizing her hands had remained behind her back the whole time the box spectacle was going on, AJ drew Lisa close, kissed her and pinched the envelope from between her fingers. She giggled at his excitement as he opened it. The contents of the envelope were two plane tickets to Toronto, together with two tickets to the Maple Leafs versus the Edmonton Oilers game that coming weekend. He laughed and kissed her again.
“Could be a fun game,” he said to her, his eyes sparkling.
“Especially if we bet on it.”
“I like that idea, but you know your Oilers are gonna lose anyway, so you may as well just admit defeat now.”
She thumped him playfully, “I don’t know if I want to sit with a smelly Leafs fan,” she told him folding her arms across her chest.
“Well, that’s a good thing, since they’re my tickets and I get to choose who comes with me!” he joked.
“My name is on the plane ticket,” she retorted as he stopped her with a kiss.
She didn’t know how things were going to turn out; she didn’t know if they’d have their happily ever after ending that she wanted so very badly. She didn’t know if the Leafs would, in fact, beat her beloved Oilers. Nor did she know for certain that they’d make it to her next birthday as a couple. No matter how much she wanted things to be normal, AJ was still married and that challenge lay ahead of them. But, right then and there, in that instant, as they stood entwined in each other’s arms, she knew she wanted to marry him, that she wanted to spend the rest of her life making him as happy as he made her. A wave of pure happiness overwhelmed her. As if he felt it too, AJ pulled her tighter and kissed her.
“What about box number five?”
Jeremy. Again.
“Oh, Wait.” AJ said, startled by Jeremy’s interruption, “what about box number five?”
“Sure,” she told him. Her cheeks were hot. This was it. The moment he would realize he was in love with a complete nut job.
He opened box number five. Sitting on top of the tissue paper, lay a book. The cover of the book was a collage of pictures of the two of them from her first trip to see him and from their time together in Ireland. He smiled widely as he lifted the book out of the box.
“What is it?” he asked her with a puzzled look.
“Well, it’s a book.” She began. “It started off with me just writing a dream I once had about you, and it grew. I tried to stop writing it, but it just kept coming and plaguing me. I just kept writing until I couldn’t write anymore.”
“What’s it about, babe?” he asked her as he traced his fingers over the cover of the book.
“It’s our story, AJ. You write songs. I wrote a book. It’s about us,” she told him. His eyes met hers and she realized she was worried for no reason. He opened the back cover and said, “Hey – why the blank pages?”
“Because the ending hasn’t been written yet!” she told him matter-of-factly, as he came across the last page, which read: “To be continued…”
As AJ flicked through the book, he was way too overwhelmed to speak.
“This has been the best birthday ever,” he managed as he struggled with the words. His eyes were filling with tears, and she could tell that she had touched a part of him that no one else had, or ever would. She smiled at him.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you too,” he told her softly as he turned to the start of the book.
The dedication page read:
To my darling AJ,
I want to be the first person you talk to every single day for the rest of your life and the last person you talk to at night before you sleep. I want you to play with my hair, rub my shoulders, argue hockey with me, and kiss me – just because.
Our journey won’t be easy, but the best things aren’t supposed to be.
I’m game if you are.
I hope this makes you smile to read, as much as I smiled while writing it.
For all the times you made me smile without trying, for all that’s behind us and all that’s yet to come.
Your puck-bunny,
Lisa.
AJ smiled at her, not bother
ing to fight the tears. In that moment, as their eyes met, Lisa had never been surer that she really had found her soulmate.
Lisa Millar will return in:
The Good in Goodbye
Enjoy an exclusive excerpt now
Three minutes.
You can wait three minutes, Lisa. It’s just three minutes. One Mississippi… two Mississippi…three Mississippi…timer on your phone, Lisa…five Mississippi…
She drummed her fingers on her thighs.
Christ woman, you wait longer for your toast to pop. Calm down.
She sat, fully clothed, on the toilet. She was sitting as far away from the “The Sticks”, which she was handling as one would radioactive material, as her small bathroom permitted. Beads of sweat trickled down the back of her neck and fear gripped at her stomach. Deep down, she already knew the answer. Her boobs were bigger, she was bloated and achy, and her usually, set-your-watch-by-it period was late. Two weeks late. While many of the symptoms felt like her period was on the way, she had a feeling in the pit of her stomach that it wouldn’t show.
Flights mess with my cycle. I’m stressed out. Lisa tried making a mental list of the reasons her period could be two weeks late.
Crap. I’m totally pr-
“Shit!”
Her thought was interrupted by an urgent need to vomit.
And let’s not forget the nausea, she thought as she quickly stood up, spun around, opened the lid and spewed the contents of her breakfast into the toilet.
Why do I even bother eating?
Since when do pregnancy symptoms appear so early and so strongly?
The three-minute timer on her phone sounded as she vomited a second time.
“Ugh.” She groaned as she kneeled on the floor hugging the toilet bowl with both arms, her head resting on the seat.
Aaaaand once more for luck. A hat-trick of vomit and it’s not even 8 o’clock. Good job, Lis.
Pulling herself up off the floor, she turned on the faucet, splashed water over her face and grabbed blindly at a towel before straightening up. She breathed deeply.
Ok, this is it, this is when your period arrives and you realize you’re being an absolute fool.
She picked up the stick and slowly turned it over.
“Pregnant,” the screen read.
“Are you sure?” she asked out loud. Stunned.
She grabbed the second stick. On this one, two lines were displayed. Two lines is pregnant.
“I can’t be-”
She frantically swiped up the third stick and was met with a plus sign on the tiny screen.
“Fuck.”
Author Note
This book has been in the making for well over a decade. I first started it back in 2005, when I ‘met’ the real-life AJ, fell in love with him and was inspired to write this work of fiction about him, his friend ‘Jeremy’, my best, friend and myself.
AJ encouraged my creativity, loved my writing, and it really wasn’t long before I was pulling all-nighters, just to get the words out of me and on the screen. I couldn’t sleep. I was totally inspired. AJ was definitely my muse, and I couldn’t stop writing until the book was finished.
Fast forward to November 2018. I repatriated from India to my home country of Northern Ireland and began a purge-and-clean process around the house – it was there that I found a hard copy, the only copy of this work left in existence. I honestly thought the manuscript had been lost forever. Wondering if this old manuscript was a lost cause, or whether my story actually had something to it, I sat on it for a while before sending it to my (very famous author) friend Liz and said, “Hey girl, watchu think of this?” Liz told me to push through the editing phase, bring it into the ‘now’ (cause who wears gypsy skirts or uses iPods anymore?) and show it a little love, because she believed in this story – and, she said, she was sucked in, despite not being a fan of the lovey-dovey stuff.
Without her, this book truly wouldn’t exist – so thanks, bitch face.
Anyone who knows my best friend and me, will know right away who the character of Chelsea is loosely based on. Amber and I have been best friends since December 2004. That’s fifteen (and counting) years of sharing just about every detail of our lives with each other – and she’s only tried to kill me once – that’s really not bad going!
Without her, I wouldn’t be here – I realize that sounds a little extreme, but in real life AJ never showed up to meet me. I got stood up, ghosted, and I truly thought I might die of a broken heart. Amber held me together (literally, as she was visiting me in Ireland when this happened and I cried on her lap for hours) until I was strong enough to stand by myself. And she’s still that person, keeping me together when I fall apart.
I can’t ever thank you enough for making me realize I was stronger than I ever believed I could be. Love ewe.
Acknowledgements
To Col, thanks for building me this little work-space haven, and to Lewis for (kinda) giving me the peace to use it.
To my boss, friend and the best chiropractor I’ve ever known, Dr. Jo, thanks for keeping my spine aligned so I can spend hours at my laptop creating my masterpieces.
To my editor, Cassie – thanks for all your hard work, for the instantaneous replies to messages, the constructive criticism, pushing me to be the best writer I can be, but mostly for being a sarky mare and making me LOL at your very professional editor-y comments.
To AJ and Jeremy, thanks for the memories, and the inspiration. I remember not being able to sleep for days until this story was written, and the editing and re-write process was just as intense.
To my rad team of Beta readers from ASJ’s ‘Top of the Tops’ group. Do you have a favorite jeweler? I sure do. She’s an entrepreneurial kick-ass amazing sparkly hero, Alyssa Smith, and she created a secret group for all of their Top Fans on Facebook. I didn’t realize I’d meet such an amazing bunch of women on a random Facebook group. Thank y’all for advance-reading my story and putting my neurotic mind at ease that you didn’t all hate it, for wanting more, and for encouraging and supporting me daily, in everything, not just my writing.
Lastly, to my friends, readers, reviewers and supporters, if it wasn’t for you, these books I write would be gathering dust on my bookshelf. Thank you all.
Keeping in touch with the Author
If you want to read more about me, you can sign up to my newsletter here on my Facebook page, @QueenofFireLas.
I send out the occasional new release updates, super-exclusive tidbits and sneak-peeks, questions on what you like and dislike about my books and occasionally even ask for feedback on things I need help with for my books (like what to name a character in an upcoming book or what your favorite romance novel is - other than my own, OF COURSE!).
As an indie author, I live for the good reviews – if you loved the book and feel so inclined, drop me a wee review on Amazon or Goodreads. If you hated it, however, your review function is probably broken and you shouldn’t even bother going to check.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lasairiona McMaster grew up dreaming of an exciting life abroad, and, after graduating from Queens University, Belfast, that is exactly what she did - with her then-boyfriend, now husband of almost ten years. Having recently repatriated to Northern Ireland after a decade abroad spanned over two countries (seven and a half years in America and eighteen months in India), she now finds herself 'home', with itchy feet and dreams of her next expatriation. With a penchant for both travelling, and writing, she started a blog during her first relocation to Houston, Texas and, since repatriating to Northern Ireland, has decided to do as everyone has been telling her to do for years, and finally pen a book (or two) and get published while she tries to adjust to the people and place she left ten years ago, where nothing looks the same as it did when she left.
Connect with her on social media Facebook, Instagram and Twitter: @QueenofFireLas
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