Connection (Temptation Series Standalones Book 2)
Page 22
I laugh. “You’ll see.”
With Dad’s assistance, I hobble down the mahogany spiral staircase and out into the garden, hundreds of white, plump roses in bloom, their sweet perfume filling the air. The sun beams high in the sky, a gentle breeze providing the perfect temperature.
An ivory carpet is rolled between two sections of wooden chairs, each with a powder-blue bow tied to the back, and ahead is an archway into the garden where Izzy, Charlotte, and Brayden cast handfuls of rose petals into the air as they slowly make their way toward Will, Bryce, Derek, and Matt.
One by one, my bridesmaids follow as “Inevitable”, the Live Trepidation marriage song—played at both Alexis and Bryce’s and Carly and Derek’s weddings—sounds through the speakers.
My eyes lock on Will, and I draw in a deep breath, holding it for as long as I can. He stands at the end of the aisle, ruggedly handsome in his tuxedo, my missing glass slipper presented in the palms of his hands.
Choking back tears, I thank my lucky stars he pushed himself into my life. I don’t know how, but he knew me better than I knew myself and persisted when most wouldn’t. He knew we were a pair, and he knew he could give me my happily ever after. This day. This enchanted moment and beyond.
“Ready?” Dad asks.
I nod. “Yes.”
Hobbling down the aisle, I giggle with each awkward step, my cheeks burning and no doubt redder than my hair. I want to kill my husband-to-be but kiss him endlessly at the same time. Not only has he thought to present me with my very own glass slipper, but he also got me an authentic dinglehopper for my birthday, which is also currently wedged into the back of my hair.
He thinks of everything I don’t and says everything I won’t.
My missing part, my entire heart.
I stop before him, and he lowers to one knee, lifts the hem of my dress, and secures the glass slipper to my foot. Our guests clap, and I let out a delighted sob, feeling very much the princess he promised I’d be.
“Perfect fit,” he says and stands up, his misty eyes alight with pride as he holds out his hand.
Dad lays mine on top of it and says, “Yes, you are both the perfect fit.” He kisses my cheek then claps Will on the back. “Look after her.”
“I will, sir. Every moment of every day.”
Will brings my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles, and I know he’ll do exactly what he just said he’ll do. I know, because we’re connected, mind, body, and soul, and a connection like that isn’t easily broken.
It’s forever.
Eternal.
A fairy tale.
Because fairy tales are real. We just have to believe in them.
Extended Epilogue
“Will!” I yell. “Wake up. I think it’s time.”
I hear him groan from our bedroom, and given it’s nearly midnight, I don’t blame him.
“I’m coming,” he grumbles.
“It’s okay, Snow. Mummy’s here. You’re doing so good, girl.” I kneel by the whelping box and pat her head.
Will stumbles into our living room, stretching his gigantic frame as he yawns. “She punch ’em out yet?”
I glare at him. “I’ll punch you out in a minute.”
He chuckles and combs his hand along Prince’s back. “I’m kidding, sweetheart. What’s happening?”
“I think her waters just broke, because she been licking a wet patch on the sheet underneath her. She’s been panting pretty hard, too, and shaking.” I flick my hands, a little panicked. “Okay, so I’ve got towels, sterile scissors, rubber gloves, antiseptic, dental floss—”
“Dental floss?” Will gives me his unexplained phenomenon expression.
“Yes. To tie the umbilical cords if we need to.” I huff. “I’ve told you this already.”
He scrubs his hand down the back of his neck and yawns again.
“So I’ve got the floss, a heating pad, the heat lamp is on, the vet is on call… what else?” I look around the room, and that dreaded feeling you get when you know you’re forgetting something settles in my stomach. “Ice cream!”
“What the hell do you need ice cream for? You hungry?”
“No, it’s not for me; it’s for her. It’s to keep her blood sugar levels up. Plus, she’s about to ‘punch’ out many babies. Bitch deserves ice cream. Don’t even argue with me on this.”
He holds up his hands. “I’m not arguing, sweetheart. Whatever you say goes. You got this.”
Prince tries to climb onto his lap, and he lets him. The two of them are best mates, inseparable, especially after Molly passed away last year. Prince has filled a void only a loyal dog can.
“Who’s gonna be a dad soon?” he coos, scruffing Prince’s ears. “You are.” Prince licks his face. “Yes, you are, big boy. Are you ready?”
Prince barks.
“Will! Keep him calm. Snow doesn’t need you two goofing off right now. She needs serenity, tranquillity. Shit! I forgot to put on my playlist.”
He stops scruffing Prince’s ears. “Your what?”
“My birthing playlist for Snow.”
Will cracks up laughing and crawls onto the floor next to me. “What’s on it… ‘Who Let the Dogs Out’?”
I whack his arm. “Very funny.”
He hugs me to him. “Just breathe. She knows what to do by instinct; she’ll do most of the work.”
Sighing, I slump against him. “I know. I’m just nervous.”
I run my hand ever so softly down the back of Snow’s head. It might sound silly, but I’ll never experience giving birth, and this will be the closest I’ll ever come. I don’t want to let her down.
“Not long now, girl.”
She shuffles and licks herself again, and this time her tail lifts, and a balloon-like membrane sac appears.
I gasp. “Look, it’s the first puppy.”
Excitement rolls over me, and I quickly put on my gloves. “Grab a towel and the scissors, quick!”
Will does as I tell him, and we both wait with bated breath as Snow pushes out her first puppy and starts licking the sac to break it open.
“Should we help her?” I ask.
“Just give her a second.”
She bites the sac, and I almost shriek, fearing she’s going to bite the puppy. But she doesn’t. She just keeps licking and licking until we hear a tiny cry.
Both Will and I exhale.
“Oh my God!” I say, tears spilling from my eyes. “We’re grandparents.”
Snow chews into the umbilical cord, and it’s both gross and amazing. Once she’s chewed through, releasing her pup, I quick scoop the tiny thing up and rub it down with a towel, gently rolling it over in my hand.
“It’s a boy!”
Prince hangs his head over the box as if to approve of his son. He licks Snow’s head, and she licks him back, and my heart near explodes.
“All right, you two, that’s enough.” Will guides Prince back a little, and I place the puppy down near Snow’s teats.
She licks herself again, and another sac appears.
“Whoa! There’s another one already,” I say, bouncing on my knees. “This is so exciting.”
Will squeezes my shoulder as Snow pushes out her second puppy before licking, chewing, and freeing it from the sac. Once again, I clean it up and check for the sex.
“It’s another boy!”
I pat her head and encourage her. “You’re such a good mumma, girl. Yes, you are.” I offer her some water, and she takes a small sip, nowhere near enough to keep her hydrated. “Quick! Grab one of the small organic ice cream tubs from the freezer,” I say to Will.
He jumps to his feet and is back in seconds, two tubs in his hands. He passes one to me then rips off the lid of the one he’s still holding before offering it to Prince.
I frown. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t you think he deserves one too?”
“No! Not really. I don’t see him lying here, ‘punching out’ seven puppies. I mean, why don’t you both just kick back a
nd smoke a friggin’ cigar?”
He looks at Prince, who’s happily licking the ice cream out of the tub. “That’s not a bad idea, hey, mate.”
I bite back my smile; there’s no way I can be mad—I love both of my babies equally.
Tearing off the lid, I offer my tub to Snow, relieved when she starts licking enthusiastically.
“Good girl!” I pat her head. “You need your energy, Mumma.”
Roughly four hours later, Snow gives birth to her sixth puppy.
“Surely this one is a girl?” Will says, waiting as I turn it over.
“Nope. Another boy.”
“That’s six boys. How many did the vet say she could see on the scan?”
I scrunch my nose. “Seven.”
“Come on, girl.” Will pats her head while helping me keep the puppies suckling on her teats. “One more. You can do this.”
She licks his nose, and he cringes. “Did she just put birth juices on my face?”
I laugh. “Yes.”
“That’s fucking gross.”
“It’s not.” I giggle. “It’s lovely. It’s natural. It’s—”
“Fucking gross.”
Wiping his face with his sleeve, he then moves Prince closer. “Lick him. That’s what he’s here for.”
Snow licks herself again, and moments later, the seventh puppy plops out onto the sheet. Like the others, Snow breaks the membrane and licks her pup. But unlike the others, this one doesn’t cry.
My chest tightens. “Somethings wrong. It’s… it’s not crying.”
I pick it up and gently rub it the same way I did the other six, but it feels different. Too still. Too quiet.
Tears pool in my eyes and trickle down my cheeks. I wasn’t prepared to lose any. I mean, I knew we could, but I never believed we would.
“It’s okay, baby girl,” I say to Snow. “You’ve done so good. I’m so proud of you.”
Will takes the puppy from me. “Not on my watch.”
Holding my breath, I watch in awe and horror as he sticks his little finger inside the puppy’s mouth then gently pushes on its tummy. It doesn’t respond, so he makes a cone with his hand, covers the puppy’s nose, and blows a puff of air while still pushing on its tummy.
My heart skips a beat, and I freeze, my chest constricted, my hands shaking.
A loud cry pierces the air, the loudest yet, and I finally let out the breath I’ve been holding.
“Oh my God!” I cover my mouth with my hands. “It’s alive.”
Will places the puppy next to Snow then kneels back, sits on his heels, and wipes his brow with the back of his hand. I could kiss him. Forever and ever.
“Holy shit!” he says. “I really do need a cigar now.”
Tears streaming down my face, I throw my arms around him and ply his head and face with kisses. “You’re my hero, William Butler.”
“Anything for my girls,” he mumbles into the crook of my neck.
“Speaking of girls, should we check?”
He nods.
“You do it. This one is your miracle.”
Gently lifting the final puppy, he turns it over, and I wait while he inspects.
“It’s a—”
“A what?” I blurt.
“A…”
“Will! For shit’s sake, tell me.”
“It’s a girl, sweetheart.”
I clap like a seal. “Six boys and one girl. Oh my God! I’m gonna call her Happy.”
His eyebrows pinch, curiously. “Happy?”
“Yes. And I’m gonna call the others Doppy, Doc, Grumpy, Sleepy, Sneezy, and Bashful.” I remove my gloves and wipe my hands on a towel. “Snow White and her Seven Dwarfs.”
Taking a seat in Will’s lap, I snuggle against his chest as his python arms hold me tight.
“Thank you,” I say, sleep beckoning as exhaustion takes over.
He nuzzles my cheek. “For what?”
“For giving me my fairy tale.”
The End
Turn over for a sneak peek at Discovering Stella: a contemporary, small-town romance.
Discovering Stella Prologue
Pain. Physical or psychological, which of the two hurts the most? Is it possible for one to hurt more than the other, or are both just as debilitating? Physical pain is instant, brutal, uncamouflaged. It is bold and undeniable, often leaving a visible scar of the damage caused. Psychological pain festers within, unseen but just as potent. It is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and it slowly chips away at a person’s soul. Both forms of pain have the capacity to bring a person to their knees, destroy their faith, and leave them incapacitated. But when the two collide, merge, unite in a common cause, the effects can be catastrophic.
My body was currently experiencing both forms of pain as I took slow, tedious steps across the lawn in the direction of what I had been evading for the past couple of years.
I knew this moment would come eventually, for some things are inevitable no matter how hard you try to avoid them. No matter the lies you tell yourself and others, what you try to bury will always resurface.
It is just a matter of time.
The wind lashed my skin with each step I took, the leaves under my feet crying out as I pressed them into the earth. I couldn’t look up, instead focussing on the black leather of my boots together with the grass and gravel that filled my vision below.
I balled my fists by my sides, my nails digging into the palms of my hands as nerves and apprehension blanketed me, the pain of my clawing fingertips welcome as it provided a microscopic distraction from what was to come in mere seconds. But it was microscopic—the pounding of my heart overpowering it and reminding me why I’d run, why I fled my previous life, and why it was so difficult to return. Returning meant facing what happened, what I’d done … what I suffered. Returning meant closure, which, up until six months ago, I never thought possible. Six months ago, I escaped and reinvented myself. I left my previous life and started a new one—one that, unintentionally, included Lawson Drake.
That man, that infuriating man, not only fixed my stupid car; he fixed my broken and tormented heart. He discovered my almost extinguished light.
He discovered Stella.
Also by K.M. Golland
TEMPTATION SERIES
Temptation
Satisfaction
Fulfillment
Attainment
TEMPTATION SERIES STANDALONES
Attraction
Commitment
Connection
WILD NIGHTS
Revue
Reveal
Resist
PLIGHT
DISCOVERING STELLA
UNSPOKEN WORDS
About the Author
Born and raised in Melbourne, K.M. Golland is a best-selling author with HarperCollins, and a two-time Romance Book of the Year award nominee.
A lover of rabbits, doughnuts, bridges, and cars, she’s also quite happy to support a very healthy high heel obsession.
Connect with K.M. Golland
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Acknowledgments
I’d like to first and foremost thank those vocal readers who begged politely asked me to write Will and Libby’s story because they weren’t yet finished with the Temptation Series characters. At first, I was of two minds whether to write this book, but thanks to the overwhelming encouragement over the years, I finally sat down and let this story unfold. And I’m so glad I did. Will and Libby are one of my favourite couples. So thank you from the bottom of my heart. I hope you enjoyed them as much I did.
To my copy editor, Kayla Robichaux—I loved working with you on this book. A perfect fit. And, funnily enough—and as we quickly discovered—your brother is kinda Will, lol. Also, I promise will try to stop shouting in caps moving forward, *winks.
To my content editor, Sali Benbow-Powers—We didn’t “Sandra” on this book, thank goodnes
s, but it was still a fun journey all the same. Also, I promise will try to never write a stinky-feet scene again, *winks.
To my mum—You’re always so keen to read my work, and I love you very much for that. Your enthusiasm towards my writing has, at times, been the only reason I kept writing through some off the toughest moments in my life. You pull me out of dark clouds and gently push shove me where I need to go. I love you endlessly x