She wasn’t sure if that was the truth or if Donovan was just telling her what she needed to hear, but for a brief moment, she allowed it to be true.
Their bodies moved together as he reached above her, gripping the headboard and pulling himself forward, going deeper inside her, never stopping, until she wasn’t sure she could handle the orgasm that was blossoming, ready to burst.
“Donovan … Donovan…” She wasn’t sure what she needed to say.
“Come for me, Kora. It’s okay to let go.”
As though she’d needed his permission, her body ignited, then detonated when he thrust inside her once more. And when he stilled, she knew he hadn’t come yet, but she wasn’t sure what he was waiting for.
“Not through with you yet,” he told her, rolling them both until she was sitting astride him. “It’s your turn, Kora. Love me.”
And suddenly, she knew that there was no way out; she was falling and falling fast, unable to stop, the velocity too intense. So intense she feared the fiery crash, but there was no way to stop it, so she quit trying.
Planting her hands on his chest, Kora rocked her hips, keeping her eyes locked with his as she brought him the same pleasure he’d brought her, making love to him as he’d instructed, her mind, body, and soul merging as one.
“That’s it, love.”
She could see the way the lines near his mouth tightened as he tried to hold back. But Kora didn’t want him to hold back. He’d asked for all of her, and now, suddenly, she wanted all of him, too.
“Don’t,” she whispered, catching his attention. “Don’t hold back.”
“Never, Kora. Not with you.”
Donovan gripped her hips and began controlling the motion of them, neither of them looking away, until she felt the tingle ignite in her core once more, radiating outward, growing stronger and stronger until, once again, an orgasm crashed through her. She rode the waves of pleasure as Donovan pulled her down to him, his lips finding hers as he bucked his hips, driving up into her, letting himself go.
I knew just how Donovan was feeling. Everything that Kora felt was exactly how I wished Presley felt. I needed her to break down those walls, to let me in. Donovan was on to something. While I pushed back, Donovan hadn’t allowed an emotional inch to get between them. He was taking what he wanted because, deep down, he knew Kora wanted it, too.
Donovan had known the moment he’d seen her that this woman was different than all the others. Even if at this point he didn’t know certain things about her, he knew who she was, understood her resolve, what drove her, where she wanted to go. Those things were probably the most important, as far as he was concerned.
And perhaps it was stupid, considering how little they knew one another, but he never wanted to let her go. Not now. Not tomorrow.
If he gave Kora an inch, she’d take it. She would find a way to push him out of her life, and he’d be back where he’d started. Not once in his thirty-two years had he felt like this. Not once had anything in his world come close to making him as happy as Kora did.
Sure, they had a long road ahead of them, but he was willing to put in the miles, to go the distance, to learn every nuance about this woman, because he knew in his gut that she was it for him.
He wouldn’t tell her he loved her, wasn’t sure he was at that point yet, and he knew she wouldn’t tell him, but what had happened between them had been a hell of a lot more than just passion or lust.
It had been everything, just as he’d wanted.
“That was…” Kora didn’t finish as she rolled onto her back.
“Incredible,” he finished for her.
Her head turned and their eyes met.
“Well, I was gonna say unexpected, but that works, too.”
“Unexpected, huh?” He’d have to agree with her there.
When it came to life, he welcomed the unexpected.
Especially when her name was Kora Madison.
The End
I knew what I needed to do. It had never been clearer to me than right this moment.
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Jake
Wednesday night
As I sat on my couch, content that I’d finally finished the book, I grabbed my cell phone and pulled up Presley’s number, then typed out a message.
Can you meet me for coffee tomorrow morning?
I waited patiently for her to respond, wondering if she would and trying to figure out what I would do if she didn’t.
My phone chimed.
Sure. What time?
Does seven work for you?
Yes. I’ll see you at seven.
Okay. That was the first part of it.
Have you finished reading my book?
I stared at my phone and waited for her to respond.
I did. But now I’m wondering how it ends.
I smiled. That gave me some hope.
You’ll find out tomorrow morning. I’ll bring the rest with me. See you then.
I was about to set my phone on the table when it chimed again. I glanced down.
Quick question.
Sure.
Presley’s question came a second later.
Will you reread through this story again?
Yes, why?
I couldn’t help but wonder where she was going with this.
I made some notes. Just wanted to make sure you saw them. See you at seven.
Chapter Seventy
Presley
I’d been pleasantly surprised by Jake’s text.
Actually, my heart had done some sort of break-dance as soon as my phone chimed and I saw it was coming from Chapter One.
For the past two days, I’d been trying to figure out what I needed to do to salvage this thing between us. Gavin was right. Jake wasn’t the one who should be fighting for this. I was. If I wanted to be happy, then I needed to go after what I wanted, to give it all that I had, because it was worth it. And Jake was definitely worth it.
I’d come up with a plan, but I’d been putting it off, trying to scrounge up my nerve.
Now that he’d invited me for coffee, I knew exactly how this needed to play out, and I suddenly couldn’t wait until tomorrow.
Chapter Seventy-One
Jake
I arrived at the coffee shop at six thirty, wanting to get situated before Presley arrived. I greeted Kim and placed my usual order, including Presley’s coffee, as well, though I asked Kim not to make it until Presley arrived.
After paying for the order, I sat at the table at the front where I’d been sitting that first day I’d met Presley. I looked over at the table next to me, the one Presley had been hunched over, playing tic-tac-toe with herself. I set the legal pad where I’d written the last two chapters of the book on that table so that I could make sure no one took it before she arrived.
Then I sat there and stared at my hands, feeling my heart pound painfully in my chest.
I’d written numerous romance novels, lived in the fictional character’s worlds plenty of times, and nothing even remotely compared to this. This was real, not fiction. What I felt for her wasn’t a figment of my imagination, something I put on paper for the world to read. This was just between her and me, and I felt my anxiety grow with every passing second.
Right on time, Presley arrived and my heart stuttered in my chest. She was wearing the same white hoodie she’d been wearing the first day that I’d met her, and she was also carrying the pink sketchbook. Seeing her brought back a flurry of memories, everything that had happened between us over the course of the last month. It was hard to believe that much time had passed, though some would say it wasn’t nearly enough time, but I begged to differ. Thirty-four days since I’d laid eyes on this woman and I knew, regardless of the outcome, my world had been forever changed.
She approached slowly, removing her coat as she glanced down at the yellow legal pad sitting on the table where she had sat before. She offered me a small smile, then placed her sketchbook down and handed over my not
ebook.
Kim brought Presley’s coffee, giving us both a beaming grin before sauntering off.
“Thank you,” Presley said to me, easing into her chair.
I couldn’t stop staring at her. She looked like the woman I’d seen that day. So damn beautiful, looking at her made my heart hurt. I might not be sure of many things in my life, but I knew without a doubt that I loved this woman.
“I made some notes in the margins,” Presley said, tilting her head toward the notebook I was holding.
I nodded. “You said you wanted to see how it ended.” I glanced down at the legal pad in front of her.
“I do. Is this it?”
I offered another nod, my stomach tightening in knots.
“Well.” Presley set her cup on the table. “How about I read this and you check out my notes. Then we can go from there.”
Good idea.
I swallowed hard, then opened the journal and started skimming the pages from the beginning. I couldn’t help but smile when she added a smiley face in a few places, putting arrows that directed to parts she seemed to like. I had originally intended to let Josie type up the rest on the computer, but now I wasn’t sure I wanted her to see what Presley had added. There were a few questions regarding placement of body parts, which were to be expected from a beta reader, but mostly, she had pointed out the parts that she recognized—the parts that resembled all that she and I had been through together, although she wasn’t referring to the actual events.
As I continued skimming the pages, I realized she really had given the book her full attention, but I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been able to see that there was so much of me in this book, so much of what I was feeling for her. The whirlwind romance, the overwhelming emotions… It wasn’t about the baby shower or the cheating ex. It was about one single day and how everything could change.
I didn’t stop reading until I got to the very last page, which ended after chapter eight. That was when I saw there was a long note in her handwriting. I peered over to see that she was still reading, moving right along. I didn’t expect it would take her long to finish.
I planted my arms on the table and started reading what she’d written.
Never in my life have I believed in happily ever after. Not since I was a child and I realized that the world was not perfect, that not all mothers loved their children, that not all wives loved their husbands. But I’d never really thought about it, never even considered that other people hadn’t experienced what I had. I’ll be the first to admit—at least to myself—that I’m a pessimist. The glass isn’t half full; it is always half empty. I’ve come to expect the worst.
I have never met anyone who has found the perfect relationship with the perfect person and created the perfect family, so I figured it couldn’t possibly exist.
Only I was wrong.
I think I’ve idealized what perfect is supposed to be in my mind, come up with a definition that isn’t appropriate, or perhaps I was merely looking for something that didn’t really exist in the first place.
Then I met you in the perfect coffee shop on that perfect day. It probably hadn’t started out that way, but it had ended on that note. And every day since, every time I had the pleasure of being in your company, I realize now … those moments were perfect. Perfect for me.
I won’t lie and try to convince you that I’m the easiest person to get along with. I’m terribly flawed, but none of that matters when you look at me. Seeing myself through your eyes … in this book … has been something I never expected. At first, I was angry that you seemed to know so much about me, but then I realized you do know me. Maybe you don’t know all the details, but you know me.
And you like me anyway.
I swallowed hard. I didn’t just like Presley. I loved her. But instead of saying as much, I kept reading.
So, at this point, I don’t know how the story ends, but for the first time in my life, I’m hoping for a happy ever after.
For Kora and Donovan.
But mostly…
For you and me.
For a minute, I continued to stare at the paper, fighting the blurry vision. This woman undid me in so many ways. And this note, these heartfelt words … they were the single most incredible words I’d ever read in my entire life.
I looked up to see Presley still reading, tears sliding down her cheeks. There was so much I wanted to say to her, but I needed her to keep reading.
So I settled for watching her.
Chapter Seventy-Two
Presley
As I read the final piece of Kora and Donovan’s love story, I couldn’t hold back the tears. Not only because the story gripped me and I was happy with the way things worked out, but also because I saw so much of me in this book, so much of Jake.
I’d never considered the fact that when an author wrote a book, he relied on experiences that had shaped his world to do so. For the most part, I understood that it was fiction, but for the first time in my life, I realized just how much of Jake’s heart went into his writing.
As I turned the page, I saw that there was something written after The End, so I kept reading.
I saw you in this coffee shop a month ago, and since that moment, I’ve been inspired. Not necessarily to write, although you definitely were the inspiration behind that, as well. I once told you that I started writing when I was a teenager, coming up with stories that depicted my life with an alternate ending. I never could’ve come up with a story such as this. Not even fiction could be this incredible.
Hopefully when you read Kora and Donovan, you saw what I’d envisioned. Two people who meet and know from that very first moment that this … was different, that the world wasn’t as cold and dreary as they’d once thought, that they could find themselves when the other was present, be who they were meant to be. You did that for me, Presley. You made me want to be someone different, someone worthy of you.
Unlike Donovan, though, I do know the true depth of my feelings at this very moment. I know what I want, where I want my life to go. I told you that when I’m with you, I feel as though I can do anything. That’s still true. And you asked me where we were to go from there.
“Anywhere we want,” I mumbled, remembering that conversation in the kitchen of my dad’s cabin.
Anywhere we want. And I still believe that.
Do you?
I looked up at Jake to find him staring at me, watching me intently. I glanced down at the notebook and saw that he’d read my note as well.
“Looks like we were on the same page,” I said, unable to keep the tears from sliding down my cheeks.
He didn’t respond, but I could see a wealth of emotion in his eyes.
“So where do we go from here?” I asked, moving my sketchbook toward him.
“Don’t know,” he said softly. “That all depends on you.”
I glanced down at my sketchbook, then opened it. I smiled over at him. “I wrote one more thing that I want to show you.”
I turned the book around so that it was open to the page I’d intended.
Jake leaned over.
My heart pounded hard in my chest as I watched him, hoping he understood me as well as I thought he did.
On the page, I had the words once upon a time … along with a snapshot taped over the original drawing I’d started of him. Below that, three words I’d never said to a man before.
I love you.
Jake’s eyes snapped up to meet mine, but before I could ask him what he thought, he reached for me, pulling me right out of my chair and into his lap. His hands cupped my face, his fingers dipping underneath the hood, his thumbs sliding over my lips.
At that point, words weren’t necessary. I could see everything he was feeling right there in those exquisite emerald-green eyes, and I knew he could see the same in mine.
“Anywhere we want,” I told him. “That’s where I want us to go. You and me.”
Jake nodded and I saw his throat work slowly as he swallowed
. I was pretty sure he was as choked up as I was.
When he didn’t move, I whispered, “I love you.”
His lips curled up at the corners. “I love you, too, Presley.”
We stared at one another for a minute before I finally said, “Are you gonna kiss me?”
“Oh, yeah. For a long, long time.”
And that kiss … right there in the coffee shop where we’d met … was the greatest moment of my life.
At least up to that point.
Chapter Seventy-Three
Jake
Friday afternoon
“You can’t move,” Presley insisted, taking my hand and shifting it so that it was where she wanted it to be.
I nodded, but then my phone rang. She lifted her eyes to meet mine and quirked an eyebrow.
“Sorry,” I muttered, then hit the talk button and put the phone to my ear, keeping as still as I could. “Hey, Liz,” I said into the phone.
The sound of Presley’s tattoo gun came to life, and I stared down at my hand while trying to focus on not moving.
“Jacob Wild! Have I told you how much I love you?”
“Not lately you haven’t, no,” I said, watching as Presley started working on my tattoo.
“Well, it’s official. I do. And thank you, by the way, for finishing the book. It’s fantastic.”
“You think so?”
“Of course. And I think people are gonna love it. It’s a little shorter than I’d hoped it would be, but maybe I can get you to write an epilogue.”
I sighed. “Seriously?”
“Well, that or we’ll make it into a serial and you can do two more books.”
“Nope, an epilogue works,” I said quickly. “People don’t like cliffhangers.”
“That’s what I thought.” She paused for a moment. “What’s that noise?”
“Tattoo gun,” I explained. “The woman I plan to make my wife one day is tattooing me. Hot, right?”
Liz laughed at the same time Presley pulled the needle back from my skin, her head lifting and her eyes meeting mine. I smiled. Couldn’t help it.
“So when do you think you can get me that epilogue? I need to get this over to the copyeditor.”
Inked on Paper Page 34