“That felt so freaking good,” I shout, then look around with a bashful grin.
Then it hits me... and all the happiness at finally telling off my ex fades. Ryan’s leaving, and he hasn’t told me a damn thing about it.
Just like Dean, he’s going to blindside me.
Chapter 22
Ryan
I pay for my purchases before walking the couple of blocks to my apartment building. Tonight, I’m going to ask Ashley to come with me to Boston. If she says yes, then I’m going to ask her to come with me as my wife—make an honest man out of me and whatnot.
In my opinion, it’s a win-win. She can bring Bluebelle and every design she has with her while I play for my dream team. Hell, Gunner will be down with this, too.
Larry, my doorman for the last five years, touches his cap. “Ms. Mitchell beat you home, sir.”
Damn it. I hand the flowers to Larry. “Thanks. Please take these to your wife and say they’re from you.”
“She’d like it better if I said they were from you,” Larry says with a big grin.
I clap him on the shoulder. “Whatever makes her happy.”
Double-checking to make sure the engagement ring I had made for Ashley is securely in my pocket, I set off in the direction of the elevators and take the first available one to my floor.
Victory, like the first time I won the Super Bowl, flows through me. I’m assured a victory tonight. There’s no way I can lose.
As soon as I explain all the reasons she should come to Boston with me, I’ll tell her that I’m in love with her and then ask her to marry me.
It’s foolproof.
The doors open and I step inside my apartment, but the lovely, happy woman I’m used to seeing stands there with determination in her eyes.
“I don’t want to date you anymore,” she says.
“Me either,” I reply, and her blue eyes widen.
“Good. I’ve had a really nice time getting to know you, but... but it’s over.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
“You knew from the start that I don’t date football players, but I made an exception for you and now it’s over.”
Gunner wanders in, then sits beside her. Automatically, she strokes his head.
“I realize that, and know how hard it was for you,” I say, choosing my words with care.
She nods, biting her bottom lip. There are tears in her eyes. I have no idea why... unless she’s already heard about Boston. “I hope you can understand why I can no longer see you. Being with you was—is—more than I can handle right now.”
“No, I can’t understand. I don’t understand a damn thing,” I growl, losing my composure. “Did someone tell you about the Patriots’ offer?”
“Is it true?”
“Yes, it’s true. The Patriots are my dream.” And so is she. All I have to do is recite the stupid speech I prepared. I reach into my pocket, but she brushes past me before I know what‘s happening.
I turn, reaching for her, but Gunner thinks it’s a game and gets all tangled up in my legs. I have to grab the nearest piece of furniture to keep from falling on my ass.
“Don’t call or text me. I told you I don’t date football players and you—you reminded me why I should never break my own rule.” The doors to the elevator doors close, but not before I see the tears running down her splotchy face. “I can’t be second to a career again. I just can’t.”
“What the hell just happened?” I ask Gunner.
I call is Ashley, but my call goes directly to voicemail. The second is to her brother, Rhett, to let him know what happened so maybe he can intervene in some way.
“What did you do to her?” Rhett practically bellows into the phone.
“I have no idea. I had the flowers, the ring, and the speech.”
“And?”
“The flowers went to Mrs. Larry, the ring stayed in my pocket, and I completely blanked on the speech,” I admit.
“That’s your problem, right there,” her younger brother says. “You gave our sister’s flowers to another woman.”
“Hey, Will,” I intone.
“What’s up, buddy? Rhett’s got you on speaker,” he says pleasantly. “Ready for us to kick your ass?”
I’d like to see them try. “I’d rather look my best when I ask your sister to marry me.”
“That’s really thoughtful of you, since our parents will take lots of pictures,” Will replies glibly.
“Still doesn’t get you out of an ass kicking,” Rhett points out.
I exhale. “Look, I just wanted to give you a head’s up. Maybe see if you can find out what went wrong. She was waiting for me, and she knew about Boston.” Oh, hell. “Did either one of you tell her? Or anyone else you can think of?”
“No,” Rhett says.
Silence from Will.
“Who did you tell, Will?” I press.
“No one important.”
“Oh, shit. You did not tell that asshole after I kicked him out,” Rhett shouts.
“Of course not.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“I told him before you kicked him out.”
“Dammit, Will,” I bite out. “It was supposed to be a secret.”
“I wanted to rub it into Dean’s face,” Will says, his voice all apologetic. “He’s always been this cocky son of a bitch and he dumped my sister, so it felt damn good to let him know you’re dating Ash. And that you’re serious about her, too. I had no idea about the trade. He said he was in town visiting his parents and thought he’d stop by—that was it. I didn’t know. Honestly.”
“Next time, if you think about saying it, don’t,” Rhett says.
Fuck. I drop my head into my palm. “That explains it.”
“Sorry, man,” Will says. “I swear I’ll make it up to y’all.”
“Don’t worry about. I’ll go talk to Ashley.” I end our call, then start for the parking garage.
“Turner.”
I blink at the blond-haired man with a grimace on his bloodied face as he limps toward me. “What the hell happened to you, Clark?”
“Crazy ex-girlfriend.” He smirks and I want to punch him, but it looks like someone has done enough damage. That someone, I suspect, is Ashley.
“She wanted to get back together, once she learned I was back in town, but...” Dean shrugs, then winces a little, “I turned her down. Word to the wise, bro... stay away from redheads named Ashley. They’re crazy as fuck.”
“Thanks for the advice.” I nod and start to walk by him without responding to his asinine taunting.
Fuck that. Guys like Dean are notorious for getting the last word, especially with sweet, forgiving women like Ashley.
“Hey Dean,” I call out, and the guy turns around. “Actually, I got something to say about your advice.”
Dean takes one look at my face before going pale. “Shit. Not again.”
Chapter 23
Ashley
I sit outside on the back porch, on the loveseat with Bluebelle curled up beside me. Her head is in my lap and she’s not as hyper as usual. Absently, I stroke her head. “You’re so good to me, sweet girl.”
My eyes feel puffy, and my throat is raw from crying for the past hour. There’s no one I can talk to about it, no one who will listen.
Over the past few years, I made Dean and then my business my world. Only Bluebelle and Ryan encouraged me to come out and fully embrace life again.
My phone buzzes and I glance at the screen, then sigh deeply. Maybe talking to my bestie will help. Who am I kidding? Talking with Laurie always helps. Plus, if I can distract her with questions about her trip the Biltmore, she can distract me with answers.
“Hey you,” I begin in my most cheerful voice. “How’s Boston? I can’t wait to visit you and Justin.”
“What’s wrong?”
I love how well she knows me, but my heart hurts too much for me to admit that it’s breaking. “Nothing.”
“You are such a liar.”
“Have your brothers kicked his ass yet? Better yet, I’ll kick Ryan’s ass for them.”
I laugh, but there’s no joy in it. “Thanks, but he’s not worth the effort.”
“I don’t know about that. Seriously, though, what happened?”
“I found out he’s going to Boston but not from him, so I ended things before he could.”
“Oh honey, I’m so sorry.” She pauses. “Are you sure he was going without you?”
“No,” I admit. “I didn’t want to know... in case I was right.”
“That’s not how love works.”
“Who said I was in love with him?” I’m so in love with him it hurts.
“Tell that to someone who isn’t your best friend.”
I laugh weakly. “It hurts so bad, Laurie. I have a Ryan-shaped hole in my heart.”
“Talk to him. Have an adult conversation about your future together. It might still hurt, but at least you’ll know for sure and won’t always wonder about what could have happened.”
“Is that your professional opinion?” I tease, even while tears start falling again.
“Doctor’s orders, honey.”
I sniff. “I wish you were here.”
“I know. I wish I were, too.”
Bluebelle raises her head, listens with a cocked ear to something I can’t hear, then takes off for the back gate. “I swear... if Dean is back, I’m gonna kick his tail all over again.”
“Oh my Lord. He had the nerve to come to your house?”
I stomp across the yard. “Yes.”
“I hope you told him off.”
“I punched him in the nose... and then accidentally on purpose shut the car door on his leg. Twice. Does that count?”
“Heck, yeah. Let the ginger loose, girl.” She giggles. “I am so proud of you.”
With a grin, I stop just shy of the gate. “Let me go. I need to see who’s here.”
“K. Love you. Call me. Bye.” We end our call as I lift up the latch.
“Did you really do all that to him, sweetness?”
My breath catches in my throat. “Ryan?”
“Open the gate and let’s talk.”
“I told you I don’t want to date you anymore.”
“And I agreed with you.” He reaches over my tall fence, fumbling for the lock at the top and unlatching it on the second try. The gate swings open, revealing his sexy face and body. “I want more.”
He steps into my yard, closing the gate behind him. I step back, searching for another exit. “This really isn’t a good time.”
“Please, Ashley, hear me out.”
“Why, so you can tell me all the reasons you’re going to Boston without me?” I cry as I turn away. So much for adult conversations. I’m such a coward.
“Talk to me, sweetness.” He catches me by the arm, tugging me to him, and this time I stand my ground. I refuse to be a coward any longer.
I face him and the possible hurt he’ll bring me. “I can’t be left out this time. I want to be part of the decisions you make, unless you don’t feel the same way about me. So, please, be honest with me.”
“Ashley, if you’ll let me explain, I promise to include you in everything.” He lifts my chin, his dark eyes tender and loving.
Wait, that can’t be right.
“I want to tell you all the reason you are going to Boston with me, but right now I can only think of two,” he admits with a sheepish grin.
“With?” I stutter. “Reasons?” Apparently, I’m only capable of speaking in one-word questions through the haze of confusion settling over me as my anger starts to ebb.
“Two of them... I love you, Ashley Margaret Mitchell, and I want you to be my wife.” He gets down on one knee, holding up a diamond ring.
“You love me?” Please say yes.
“Yes.”
“And you want to marry me?” This is the total opposite of what I expected, and I can barely wrap my head around it. My heart has already accepted it, though, and it feels full to bursting.
“Hell, yes.” He stands. “That’s why I don’t want to date you anymore. I want to make you mine. I want to take you off the playing field.”
“Ryan?”
“Yeah?”
I give him a tremulous smile. “I have two replies for you.”
“And those are?”
“I love you, Ryan Shea Turner, and I would be honored to be your wife in Boston, in Raleigh... wherever life takes us.”
Ryan picks me up, grinning, and spins me around. “My wife.”
Laughing, I kiss him and he stops spinning us. “Thank you.”
“For what?” he asks, kissing my forehead.
“For making me a part of your dreams.”
Epilogue
Ryan
Three years later
March in Boston is as cold as hell, but I have a firecracker keeping me warm at night. Ashley scoots closer to me, her pregnant belly hitting me before the rest of her does. My daughter kicks me in the back and Ashley lets out an oof.
Make that two firecrackers keeping me warm.
“She’s getting stronger,” she says.
“Future punter,” I say, then turn to face my wife and pull her close.
Gunner and Bluebelle are sleeping on the end of the bed, used to the constant tossing and turning that Ashley’s been doing the closer she gets to the end of her pregnancy.
I’m excited as hell to be a dad, and even more excited to surprise her with a last minute trip to Raleigh to see her family.
“Need anything?”
She smiles at me, dimples flashing. “A foot rub.”
“I can do that. Want to do it the bath?” I wriggle my brows at her. “I promise to keep my hands where you can see them.”
Her response is to kiss my nose. “I love you Ryan Turner.”
“I love you Ashley Turner.” I reach around her, kneading the small of her back. “What do you think about the name Elizabeth?”
“It’s pretty.” Her brow wrinkles. “Where did you get it?”
“You said Little Women was your favorite book, so I’m hoping I can give you an Amy, a Jo, a Meg, and—”
She kisses me. “Elizabeth is perfect.”
“You’re perfect.” Then I get out of bed and scoop my wife up in my arms. “Let’s get you in that bath and then I’m going to share some news with you.”
“Is it about my surprise trip to Raleigh?” she asks, her eyes twinkling.
“Who told?”
She grins. “Doesn’t matter. I just love that you planned it for me.”
“Sometimes, the best decisions are the one that are made with the one you love in mind.”
“As long as your decisions include me.”
“Always,” I assure her.
Ready for more romance? I have a sexy series about a family of siblings living on the coast of North Carolina. PICTURE PERFECT LIE is a slow burn romance that you don’t want to miss. Be sure to sign up for my newsletter to receive an alert when my next books are available.
All Campbell Faircloth wanted was a safe place to call home.
All Knight King wanted was to leave his hometown behind.
I never expected to end up in Castle Beach, surrounded by a family who believes that I’m not only their brother’s wife, but the mother of his infant daughter.
I can’t tell them the truth—Knight and I met only three days earlier, during a layover in Atlanta.
He was headed out to fight in a war that hardly anyone talked about anymore, and I was headed back home to a family who pretended that I didn’t exist.
He helped me with my baby.
He kept us safe while we slept.
We shared lunch and dinner... and I spilled all my secrets to him.
Then he gave me an address, along with an offer I couldn’t refuse.
Six months later he’s back to bury his brother, and my lie is about to be exposed.
Only
Knight doesn’t say a word.
He goes along with the charade, and each day we spend together, pretending to be husband and wife, it’s getting harder and harder not to believe in our lie.
Could our picture perfect lie turn into a picture perfect forever?
Get Picture Perfect Lie
Keep scrolling to read Take a Chance on Me, a super sexy and fun read about a hot cop on vacation who saves the life of a woman who doesn’t have time for tourists like him.
BONUS READ: TAKE A CHANCE ON ME
All Detective Bryce Miller wants is two weeks away from it all, and his grandparents’ cottage on the Pamlico Sound fits the bill. A fridge full of beer and soft shell crab is all he needs. He’s not looking for forever, just a good time.
Kayla Ambrose doesn’t have time for tourists who try to buy her time instead of her award-winning crab cakes. She’s too busy trying to start over after her ex stole her heart...and cleaned out her bank account. But when a sexy, smooth-talking stranger saves her from a potential robber, will she take a chance on him?
Chapter One
Bryce Fitzpatrick sat up in bed. Taking one look at the waves gently washing up on the seashore and a blue sky full of white, puffy clouds, he gave it all the finger. He punched his pillow for the hundredth time and buried his nose in it, trying to breathe in enough carbon dioxide to force his body to relax.
Or die.
Right now, he’d be fine with either.
When he’d left New York City for two weeks of paid vacation, he hadn’t expected to spend his first night tossing and turning, unable to get more than thirty minutes of shut-eye at a time.
Especially after what looked like an open-and-shut homicide turned into the biggest scandal Long Island had seen in twenty years, involving the mob, a sex-slavery ring, and a former candidate for governor of the great state of New York. The former candidate had been found dead at an underground club that catered to men like him. It had been a bitch to ferret out who’d put the hit on Representative Kline.
Most times, he loved his job. He truly enjoyed helping to bring the bad guys to justice and giving closure to victims’ families. But for this one...he honestly didn’t give a damn about solving the case for some asshole who used his power and money to hurt others. He was more interested in helping those women and men—barely legal adults—who’d been living like animals for months. Until he found the kids.
Catching Her Heart Page 8