She nodded, tears spilling down her face. “Yes.”
He kissed her forehead. “Sam, I love you. Will you marry me?”
She laughed exasperatedly through her tears. “Yes, you ass.”
He kissed her again, mouth and forehead. “Is fiancé okay?”
She buried her face in his chest, shaking with laughter and tears. “Yes,” was the muffled reply.
“Good,” he said warmly. “I’m gonna work my ass off to give you the wedding you want.”
She snapped her head up, eyes wide. “Oh my god, how am I going to plan a wedding, Damon? You have to do those things like six months in advance! Anything I want today I’m going to hate in a month, you can’t plan around that!”
Damon grinned. “Sure you can,” he said comfortably. “We’ll do whatever you want, whenever you want to do it. Easy.”
She dissolved into chuckles and collapsed in his arms. Blayze pulled me close and kissed me, then whispered that we should give them some privacy. We slipped away, hand in hand, and walked across the easy, rolling pasture.
“School starts next week,” he said. “I’ve been looking into it and I can cut the years in half if I pick up one extra class every semester and work through summers.”
I sighed and looked around, taking in the wilderness. “This has been the best summer of my life,” I said, leaning against him. “I wouldn’t mind spending six lazy summers with you—but I know it would drive you crazy.”
“It would,” he said, wrapping his arms around me from behind. He kissed my hair and my ear and my neck and held me tight. “But I’d do it for you.”
I smiled and shook my head. “We’ll be together either way. We can be study buddies all year round and just knock these degrees out of the park. This summer was wonderful—but I’m impatient, too. We have a life to start, people to help. Let’s get it done.”
“You got it, baby.”
He kissed me under the summer sun as the breeze blew scents of horses and baked grass around us. We’ll be back here, I decided. All four of us, over and over again.
Epilogue
Six Years Later
“Xena, stop pulling the flowers out of your hair! Oh you silly girl, come to mommy.” Sam bundled her two-year-old onto her lap and tried to fix the wreath of flowers, but Xena was intent on eating every last petal. Sam sighed, rolled her eyes, and looked at me helplessly.
“Go ahead and take them out,” I told her. “I’m not sure rose petals are good for babies.”
Sam breathed a sigh of relief and took the flowers out of Xena’s hair. “How is she going to be a flower girl if she eats the petals?”
Xena gave her a firm look and grabbed a handful of petals off of the wreath, then dropped them on the floor.
“She’s definitely your kid,” I said.
“Right?!”
Snuggling into her mommy’s chest, Xena popped up and kissed her jaw. Sam grinned and rolled her eyes, then snuggled the baby. “With just enough of Damon in there to save you,” she said indulgently. “Silly baby.”
I turned back to the mirror in front of me and examined my own flower wreath. I smoothed my sweaty hands over the satin robe I wore to protect the dress underneath.
“Okay, so far, is your wedding everything you wanted it to be?” Sam asked as she pulled the last few flowers out of Xena’s hair.
“It hasn’t happened yet,” I said with a grin.
“I know, I know, I just mean you know—the flowers, the dress, the groom, all that. I used to plan weddings when I was a kid, but it only aggravated me. I sort of assumed you had a whole binder full of wedding plans ready to go.”
I laughed. “Well the groom is certainly perfect, but I never really planned my wedding when I was a kid. I’m glad I didn’t.”
She cocked her head. “Why?”
“Because I grew up with a lot of money,” I said. “I would have built a dream wedding in my head with no budget in mind. Trying to do anything like that on Blayze’s salary and mine would have been impossible.” I grinned and shot her a look. “But really, any wedding that ends with me and Blayze in bed afterward is the perfect wedding.”
There was something bothering me, though, and she could tell. She raised her eyebrows at me and waited. I sighed.
“It’s just—I know his mom has issues. He says she’s been working on them, but—” I shrugged and blew out a heavy breath. “She didn’t make it to either of his graduations. Those were so important to him, and this—”
“Is way more important,” she interrupted.
“Yeah. And she hasn’t RSVP’d. He invited her in person, we sent her an invitation—I wanted to call her on the phone, but he told me to leave it alone. I can tell that it’s upsetting him. I can see it all over his face every time we talk about the guests or seating or anything. He asked me to make a space for her just in case, but that seems so much sadder to me, to have her empty seat just sitting in the front row.”
She slid a sideways look at me while she wrestled Xena out from under my bed. “Did you do it?”
I smiled sadly. “Yes,” I said. “He’s always got so much hope and optimism.”
“You do too,” she pointed out. “That’s why you two work so well. Two pure souls, desperate to see the good in everybody.”
I chuckled at that. “Yeah, but I have the advantage. Everything really was okay in my world for so long, it gave me a foundation to fall back on when things get rocky. He seems to have that foundation just sort of—embedded.”
She grinned, then put the baby down and came over to help me with my hair. Her own wedding had been wild; in spite of Damon’s patient insistence, or maybe because of it, they had actually been engaged a year before finally tying the knot.
She’d ended up getting married in the field under the trees where Damon had first asked her. He’d asked her at least four more times since, and she said ‘yes’ every time; he explained to me later that he had to be sure that all of her was saying yes, even her stormier, more vindictive parts. It was a wise move, and I knew Sam loved him for it.
“Then he’ll be fine whether she shows or not,” she said reasonably. She paused for a moment, untangling a flower that had flipped over. “I can’t believe he’s a real lawyer now,” She said, smoothly changing the subject. “What’s it like?”
I grinned. “It’s a lot like living with my dad,” I said. “Just from the opposite perspective. He goes on rants after work too, mostly about overpaid prosecutors and inflexible laws—but also about idiot criminals and their pathetic attempts at manipulating him. He’s already making a name for himself.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” She asked, smiling, but there was concern in her eyes.
“It’s a good thing,” I said firmly. “It means his opinion holds more weight with the right people. And the people he defends all know where he comes from and what his motivations are. Only the stupidest would hold him accountable for an unavoidable sentence, and the stupid ones can’t get to him. He’s got too many friends.”
“In high and low places,” she mused. She paused for a moment, then asked, “will you be changing your professional last name? Will people make the connection?”
I nodded. “Yes. To both, I think. But that’s a good thing. The kids I work with have a lot of connections to people he defends—we work with the same families more often than I expected to—and a lot of them trust him. When they find out who he is to me, they tend to open up a little quicker. Blayze says it works the other way around too, sometimes.”
Sam was going to say something, but Mom burst in with a bouquet of flowers, already fussing. “What are you talking about work for, silly girls? There’s a wedding to put on!”
Epilogue
Every end is a new beginning—and vice versa. I was going to miss going head-to-head with Arlena’s dad in the courtroom. It was frowned upon now that we were family, unless there was no good alternative. Between the two of us and with Eddie out of the way, we’d restore
d some sense of sanity to the inner city.
Arlena’s work had helped too, in a subtler sort of way. Preferring to catch the problem before it had a chance to make it to us, she’d opened up a foundation right in the middle of town. It seemed frivolous to me, at first, especially with the YMCA and boys’ and girls’ club already in existence, but she was so passionate about the project that I supported her wholeheartedly.
It was already looking like she’d been right. The foundation was steadily growing and the crime rate in the immediate vicinity, especially among minors, was steadily dropping.
“It’s not just about having a safe place to go after school,” she’d told me. “It’s about having the opportunities to find out what you’re good at, and having someone show you what to do with those skills. Then there’s the therapy and the work-based learning and all the rest of it. It’s a living picture of what life could look like. They need that.”
I still wasn’t completely sure of everything that she did there—some days she’d come home covered in finger paint and talk about work like it was a daycare, other times she’d be telling me stories about musicians and budding actors, and still other times she spoke computer languages I barely understood—but whatever it was, it was working. The city was coming alive again, inch by inch.
“Thinkin’ too hard,” Damon said, straightening his bowtie. “Getting cold feet?”
“He better not be,” Tristan growled from behind me. Tristan had become like a parent to me, or at least a role model like I’d never had before. Even Damon had grown to like him, mostly because he knew that Tristan had my back.
I turned and grinned. “Not in a million years,” I said. “Just thinking about what happens next.”
Damon whooped and Tristan’s ears turned red at the tips. I groaned. “Not like that. What time is it?”
“Time for you to get out there,” Tristan said. “I was on my way to go get Arlena.”
“Okay,” I breathed, tugging at the hem of my tux. “Let’s do this.”
I stepped out of the small second bedroom and into the narrow hallway. Arlena and I had found ourselves with a choice; to put a down payment on a nice, clean little double-wide in a relatively quiet area of town, or to have a grand venue for our wedding. I was happy to learn that we both preferred to have a place to come home to after the honeymoon.
I stepped out the side door and into the little side yard just in time to hear a tentative tap on the worn, whitewashed gate. I expected one of our new neighbors had come by to ask about the collection of cars in the street, but when I opened the gate my heart leapt. She looked beautiful. Her dark eyes were big and frightened, but her strong jaw was set at a determined angle. Relief loosened her mouth when she saw me—not quite a smile, but it was close.
“Blayze,” she said breathlessly. “You look—like a groom.” She tugged her thin cover-up a little farther over the low-cut pink dress she wore. The dress came almost to her knees, more conservative than any dress I’d seen her wear, and her bright-orange heels were only three inches tall. Even with those heels, she barely reached my shoulder—impossibly high ponytail and all.
“And you look like a groom’s mother,” I told her warmly.
A little of the fear ran out of her eyes and she gave me a shy smile. “Really?”
“Really.” I held out my elbow for her and she took it, her rainbow-colored fingernails popping like fireworks against the deep black of my tuxedo. When we rounded the corner to the backyard where dozens of folding chairs had been set up to face the lattice archway where the ceremony would take place, she sucked in a sharp breath and stopped walking.
I tried to see the picture through her eyes. As usual, she was smack dab in the middle of the attending age groups. My friends and Arlena’s were all sixteen years her junior, while Arlena’s parents, other relatives, and their friends were all at least fifteen years older. Everyone was dressed up; the older members in pastels and neutral tones, the younger in slightly brighter colors. Nobody wore neon pink or orange, a clear indication that she was the only one there who had spent her formative teen years worshipping the Spice Girls.
She touched her plastic turquoise hoop earrings self-consciously and rattled the plastic rainbow of bangles on her wrist in that nervous way I remembered from a lot of parent-teacher meetings. I put my hand over hers and pressed down reassuringly.
“Keep your head up high,” I whispered.
She grinned up at me and tossed her hair, making it whip down her back, and took a confident step forward. “I am the superfly,” she breathed.
I took her to her seat, right next to Arlena’s mother who was already dabbing her eyes. I introduced them briefly. Arlena’s mother instantly complimented my mom’s dress and shoes with so much authentic enthusiasm that the last of my mother’s tension flowed away. Grinning at them both, I took my place under the arch. Damon’s eyes were misty.
“She came,” he said warmly. “Good.”
I eyed him for a moment. “You wish she’d come to yours?”
He shook his head. “Nah, she wasn’t even close to ready. She would have freaked out and spooked the horses. No, man, there’s nothing in here but happiness.” He thumped his chest twice, then smiled and waved at Mom, who grinned happily back.
I breathed deeply, letting contentment settle over my soul. All of the pieces of my life were coming together. I wanted to take a moment to bask in the feeling—then the music started.
Sam’s outfit made me grin. Arlena had allowed her to choose her own outfit, as the maid of honor, and had dressed her bridesmaids in matching colors. It couldn’t have been easy. Knowing Sam, she probably hadn’t chosen a purple and electric lime mini-dress until the week before. She’d even dyed a few streaks of her hair to match. Mom lit up like a kid at Christmas when she saw her.
Sam’s kid toddled up the aisle after the bridesmaids. She dropped a few handfuls of petals very carefully from her chubby fingers before stopping to chew on one, making laughter ripple through the audience. Sam snapped her fingers and Xena instantly dropped the petal, then flashed her mother a wicked grin and finished the trek.
I was so caught up in smiling at the baby that I almost missed it when the music changed. I looked up when the crowd stood, then thought my heart would stop. Arlena was a dream in cream and lavender, her skin shining like gold in the afternoon sun. Her thin veil couldn’t hide her brilliant smile or the sun glittering off of the tears sparkling in the corners of her eyes.
Tristan met my eyes and nodded respectfully as he passed her from his arm to mine. I could have sworn there were tears in his eyes, too. As I held her soft little hands in mine and gazed into her gorgeous eyes, I knew that no matter where we lived, I would never be away from home as long as I was with her.
When she spoke her vows, they rang true in my chest. When I answered with my own, I had never meant any words more fervently. The ring was a wonderful weight on my hand, as strong and eternal as my conviction when I kissed her. I was hers, now and forever.
“Presenting, for the first time: Mr. and Mrs. Blayze and Arlena Arrow!” The officiant finished with a flourish. Arlena laughed through tears. I was grinning so hard I thought my face would split in two. We marched back down the aisle as a million rainbow bubbles floated through the air and all of our friends and family cheered. I’d never felt more loved in my life.
Epilogue
Turquoise waves crashed over white sand, sending scattered reflections of early morning light into our little beachside cabin. I sighed happily, snuggling deeper into Blayze’s solid, warm embrace. The last few days had been a dream—dream wedding, dream trip, dream destination. Dad had insisted on paying our way—I think he felt bad for not putting up for the house or wedding, even though we’d made that deal long ago.
The first-class treatment had left me more relaxed than I’d ever been—not to mention Blayze’s treatment of my body. As if he’d read my mind, I felt his arousal grow against me, filling the space between us with a
n almost unbearable heat. I wriggled my hips against him, giggling as he groaned into my neck.
“Gotta give me a second, babe,” he growled. He launched out of bed to the bathroom, leaving me to revel in the feel of satin against my bare skin. He came back and took a flying leap onto the bed, making me shriek and giggle as the force of his impact made me bounce.
“Safety first?” I asked, giving him a sly look.
He was thoughtful for a long moment, searching my face. “Reckless abandon?” He replied.
My heart fluttered hard as I gazed into his eyes. A deep swell of emotion filled me up, a wanting I hadn’t even realized was there. It was so strong it nearly brought tears to my eyes, so I fought it with flippancy.
“Xena could use a friend,” I said with a little grin. “If only so she stops driving Sam crazy.”
“She does do that,” he said thoughtfully. “As our oldest friend, I think we owe it to Sam to save her from my brother’s spawn.”
“I agree,” I said, my chest hitching, belying my cavalier attitude.
His eyes softened and darkened and he grew very, very still. “But first, princess—are you certain? Are you absolutely certain you want to make a baby?”
I pretended to think it over for a second. Then, before resignation could settle over his features, I pulled him close and kissed him.
“Yes,” I breathed. “Yes, please Blayze.”
VILE INTENTIONS TEASER
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“God I love hockey players, don’t you?” Jeanne gazes at the boisterous jumble of muscle-bound seniors as they shove past us. One of them elbows me, making me drop my binder. He doesn’t even turn around to acknowledge me, just keeps horsing around with his jock buddies.
“Ugh. You can have them all.” I stand to pick up my things, tucking a strand of long brown hair behind my ear as I do so. Jeanne sighs as the boys thunder around a corner and out of sight, before finally rearranging her priorities and moving to help me.
Manic: A Dark Bully Romance Page 25