All I Know

by Tamara Lush

  “It’s been almost thirty-nine years.”

  Dad’s not one to reveal a lot of emotion, and I’m shocked into uncomfortable silence that he’s even talking about any of this with me.

  “What I’m trying to say, Damien, is that you should ignore anyone who tells you it’s too soon. You love Kate, right?”

  “I do.” Those two simple words, ones that I’ll utter for real in a few minutes, leave a lump in my throat. “But, Dad?”

  His eyebrows lift. “Yes?”

  “I asked her to marry me so she could have health insurance. She has a chronic illness and has nothing. I love her. I’ve loved her for years. And I wanted—” I take a huge inhale. “I wanted her to be taken care of in case something happens to me in Syria.”

  Why did I tell him that? Jesus. I’m going to ruin this whole day.

  Dad sets his scotch down on a table then stuffs his hands in his pockets.

  “I’m proud of you, Damien.”

  I blink at the floor. “I thought you’d be pissed.”

  He shakes his head. “I’m proud of you for wanting to take care of her. For making her life easier. For thinking of someone other than yourself.”

  “I’m fucking crazy about her, too.”

  Dad runs a hand through his shock of silver hair. “Then love her a thousand percent until you leave, and when you get back, never let her go. I can tell how much you care for her. I can see it in the way your eyes linger on her, the way you reach for her hand, the way you search for her in a room filled with people. And she’s a mirror of you. She loves you. Take all those feelings you have for each other and build on them.”

  It might be the most words I’ve ever heard come out of Dad’s mouth on the topic of emotions. Shocking. For the first time since I was a kid, I reach for my father. We embrace, and I’ll be damned if I’m not fighting back tears.

  “And nothing’s going to happen to you in Syria. You’ll be home before you know it,” he says in a rough voice. “Now let’s do this wedding.”

  Twenty-Four

  Kate

  “You look absolutely amazing.” Lauren’s eyes are watery as she pushes herself toward me on her scooter. She’s begrudgingly chosen that over the crutches.

  The scooter is black, and someone’s tied a white ribbon to the handlebars. She’s wearing the most beautiful blue chiffon dress with fluttery long sleeves, and I feel so bad that she has the air cast on her leg.

  “Don’t you move; it’s okay. Save your energy for the aisle.” I hold out my hand and walk to her.

  “Thank you for being here. And really, you didn’t have to walk down the aisle.”

  She grins and shrugs. “I’m not in any pain, and I kind of like the idea of rolling down the aisle with Max at my side. I’m here for you. You need someone to stand up there with you. Plus, I have Damien’s ring.” She pats a silver sparkly satchel that’s slung around her shoulder.

  I’ll have to have a conversation with her about Max, but not now. Not when my stomach feels like it’s filled with pop rocks, all fizzy and unsettled.

  “I hear the music. I think that’s my cue.” Lauren sweeps a tendril of my hair out of my face. “You’re a beautiful bride. Truly. I’m happy for you. Really.”

  Leaning toward my best friend, I embrace her gently. “Thank you. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Katie. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  Out the corner of my eye, I see Max in the doorway, looking handsome in his tuxedo. He clears his throat.

  “Coming!” Lauren trills, and she maneuvers the scooter around and zooms over to him.

  He grins at her. “Jesus, you’re sexy on that scooter,” he remarks, leaning down to kiss her cheek. She giggles, and they roll out of the room.

  I blow out a little laugh. What if Lauren and Max fall in love? Wouldn’t that be hilarious? And awesome?

  I hear the strains of the wedding music, played by a guitarist friend of Remy’s. This is my five minute warning. Five minutes to be alone. Five minutes to collect my thoughts. Five minutes left of being a single woman.

  Five minutes to…pee.

  Thank God I’m not in a huge wedding dress; I’d bought a simple, boho-inspired white gown that’s delicate and feminine. No train, no veil. Only tiered flounces of soft silk georgette and hand embroidered flower details around the bust.

  Lifting my skirt, I sweep into the bathroom. I carefully settle onto the toilet, do my business, wipe and…

  There’s a tiny red stain on the tissue.

  My period.

  “Shit,” I whisper. On my wedding day?

  But I’m also grinning from relief.

  It’s not that I don’t want Damien’s baby—I do, I think. Just not now.

  While trying not to drag my gown in the toilet, I reach for my makeup bag on the counter and grab a tampon. There.

  I wash up, check my makeup one last time, and practically flutter out of the suite and down the hotel corridor to the garden. When I get to the beginning of the red carpet that’s covered in white rose petals, I pause.

  Damien’s at the far end of the carpet, underneath a rose-covered trellis.

  As I walk toward him, I grin. Not only does he look incredibly handsome in his tux, but his face is soft and smooth.

  He reaches his hand out, and I take it.

  “You shaved,” I murmur. He looks so young. And gorgeous. I fight the urge to run my fingers through his short dark hair.

  I glance into the first row of seats, where my mom is in a hot pink dress and matching turban with Beau at her side. We blow each other kisses, and my eyes well with tears.

  Blinking them back, I look at Damien’s brother Remy, standing next to him and looking uncomfortable in his tux. And then down to Chunky, who is sitting near the minister’s sandal-clad foot, wearing a black bow tie around his beefy neck.

  This is really happening.

  Laurie, the minister, beams at us both. As she speaks and as we recite our simple vows, I can hear the blood rushing in my ears. Lauren hands me his ring, and I almost drop it as I put it on his big finger.

  I’m so nervous that I feel a little unsteady, and I’m thankful that Damien’s sliding the ring on my finger and not letting go of my hand.

  “I do,” I say.

  “I do,” he says.

  We’re both shaking.

  “I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride,” Laurie says.

  Damien cups my face and dips his head, his smooth face warm next to mine. The kiss is unhurried, sensual. Perfect. I shut my eyes, and he kisses me a little harder. It’s such a captivating kiss that I almost forget there’s several dozen people watching.

  I am kissing my husband.

  There’s cheering and clapping. A tear streams out of the corner of my eye.

  We break apart and my eyelids flip open.

  “I…” I smile.

  His lips part. “Love,” he murmurs.

  “I love you,” we both say at the same time.

  We we kiss again, this time while laughing. Then we walk down the aisle.

  Together.

  THE END

  Thank you for reading ALL I KNOW! Damien and Kate will appear in future books in the series. Why not check out Book Two, and find out if Lauren and Max get their HEA? Read on for a sneak preview…

  All I Want — Sneak Preview

  Paradise Beach #2

  LAUREN

  The photo of me stretched out on the edge of the pool with the Italy’s stunning Amalfi Coast as a backdrop is pretty damned good, if I do say so myself.

  Especially with the bikini that matches the color of the sky, and that custom filter a hot new app created for me. For my brand, more accurately.

  With a swipe and a tap, I post the photo to my one-point-five million Instagram followers. Supposedly I'm a travel influencer, but I get more clicks if I post photos of myself in pretty places like this. Tens of thousands more likes when I’m in a bikini.

  Tiresome, but
necessary, if I want to make money.

  This week I flew to Italy (squee!) to pop champagne on the Amalfi Coast and visit friends who have an INCREDIBLE Air BnB villa with an even more amazing view. I’m chilling by the pool today but last night, designer @prada held an intimate fashion show right in the town square. I hope you all saw the Insta story, but if you didn’t, it’s in my Amalfi highlight. Also check the blog, where I have more behind-the-scenes photos, who wore what, and which fab singer I sat next to! A huge thank you to @chasebank and @alitalia for making this happen! #jetset

  The comments come almost immediately.

  ohhh I’d love to know the filter you used for this shot

  How fun! Love your bikini. Is that from the Chanel resort collection?

  Damnnnn girl

  Such a magical place! How do I get on the guest list?

  Within three minutes, I have a hundred likes. My sponsors will be thrilled. And hopefully this trip will give me a boost, too. I need to convince the social media marketing team at the world’s only seven star resort in Dubai that I deserve one of their coveted junkets. So far I’ve applied three times and was turned down twice. It’s a trip reserved for only the top-tier social media influencers, a group I’ve been trying to break into for months.

  I look up from the sleek, white leather sofa to see the villa’s owner coming in from the terrace.

  “Amazing party, wasn’t it, Lynn? I mean, Lauren?”

  I fight the urge to scream in frustration. Giovanni’s a well-known party promoter on the Mediterranean social circuit, and he can never remember my name. I’ve been to his sprawling villa three times in recent months for various weekend-long parties sponsored by different fashion and liquor brands. I’ve given him all sorts of tags and shout outs on social media, which in turn boosts his profile and makes him appear Insta-famous. That’s a thing, sad to say.

  He still can’t remember my goddamned name, and yet, he keeps inviting me to events.

  It’s superficial and I hate it, but this is my job now.

  “Fab. The party was just fab,” I drain the rest of my sparkling water.

  “Going somewhere?” He points at my hard-shelled black suitcase. A willowy, bronze model who can’t be over twenty saunters down the marble stairs as if they’re a catwalk, and folds herself against Giovanni’s chest. This must be his girl of the month.

  I’ve never been that girl, thank God. This is all business for me and for him, and I’m grateful that Gio understands I never wanted to sleep with him. On social media, I’m a partygoer, quick with a smile and a pithy Insta caption.

  In reality, I’m hired help, like a PR person. I’m selling others’ brands — swank hotels, swag bags on transcontinental flights, Gio’s parties that are sponsored by luxury brands. Of course, all this promotes my own brand, which in turn, puts money in my bank account.

  Cardi B’s “Money” has become my persona theme song. Being an Instagram influencer is exhausting and lonely at times, but it beats being an assistant to a portrait photographer in frigid Chicago.

  “Headed to Rome.” I press my lips together in a tight smile. “A hotel’s putting me up for a few nights and I’m going to tour the Porta Portese Market...” my voice trails off because he and the model are kissing, cooing and obviously paying zero attention to me and my plans to tour a bustling flea market. (A tour I was actually looking forward to).

  Giovanni looks up, flushed.

  “Sounds great, Lynn. Have a good trip, thanks for all of your help and photos. I’m getting so much traffic on Instagram,” he says in his thick Italian accent. “We’re off to the pool.”

  He breaks away from the model and strides over to me, his white linen pants moving effortlessly with his body. I stand up and we kiss each other goodbye on both cheeks.

  “Until next time, Gio,” I say warmly. Even if he can’t remember my name, he’s an okay guy. More importantly, he’s got a killer villa and hosts cool parties.

  “Ciao ciao, maybe catch up with you in Berlin,” he trills, gliding back to the model. She gives a beauty pageant wave and they walk out another door, the one leading to the pool with the stunning view of the coast.

  Berlin? I wonder what’s happening there, and when.

  I sink back onto the white leather sofa, straightening my sky blue flowy caftan that I’d bought at a boutique in Mykonos. It’s my favorite travel dress, classy and elegant, yet a little sexy with the slit up the side.

  My phone pings, notifying me of an email.

  I pick up my iPhone. “Oooh, Kate,” I whisper out loud. I love hearing from my best friend. Of all the people back in the United States, Kate’s the one I miss the most. Even more than my own blood relatives.

  Hey L. Where are you? I tried Skyping you the other day but couldn’t get through. I really need to talk with you. Can you call me when you get this? ASAP. Any time of the day or night. Love you. K.

  I frown, wondering if something's wrong. Then a sinking feeling takes over. It’s probably her mother. Instead of staying in our old loft in Chicago, or joining me on my world Insta-travels like we’d planned, she moved home to Florida to be with her mother, who is battling breast cancer. It was only supposed to be for a few months, though, because the cancer was manageable. Stage Two.

  Ah, crap. A lump of dreads settles in my stomach because I know how much Kate loves her mom. Their relationship has made me envious on more than one occasion. My mother has her problems, too. But all of her own making.

  Checking the time - I still have a good fifteen minutes, maybe a half hour until my hired car comes, possibly longer if the driver’s caught in Amalfi Coast tourist traffic - I tap over to Skype and dial Kate’s number.

  She answers on the second ring. “Lauren,” she squeals.

  I scream when I see her sun-kissed face. “Oh my God, you look so good! So tan! You’re glowing, my God. Have you been going to the beach every day? Have you lost weight? Or did you get a facial?”

  She laughs. “Shut up. I look like hell. I have been running every day, though. And working in the bar, on my feet for hours. Mom’s not able to do anything, so...”

  Kate’s mom owns a bar on Paradise Beach, a little island off the Gulf Coast. It’s an actual tiki hut, with a thatch palm frond roof and everything, like in the movies. She’d showed me all sorts of photos when we lived together. I’d always meant to visit, but international locations beckoned.

  “Running? Wow! That’s new. What’s going on? Are you okay? How’s your mom? Something about your tone in that email worried me.”

  Kate unties and then ties her long brown hair, which means something is, indeed, wrong. She’s nervous. Four years of living with her in a dorm in Ohio and then years with her in our Chicago loft means I know every mannerism and gesture, and what it means.

  “Okay, ah, well...”

  “What is it?” I bring the phone closer to my face. Now I’m really concerned because she’s stammering. Kate’s usually blunt as a sledgehammer.

  “I’m getting married,” she blurts.

  I stop breathing for a second.

  “What?” I yell, my voice echoing through the villa’s tastefully decorated living room. My heart hammers against my ribs.

  Kate, married?

  I hope you enjoyed this sneak peek of Max and Lauren’s story! Click here to read ALL I WANT, Book Two in the series. It’s is exclusively on Amazon and free with Kindle Unlimited!

  Want More of Damien and Kate?

  Dear Reader:

  Thanks for reading ALL I KNOW! I hope you enjoyed this book and loved Damien and Kate.

  Do you want more of their story? Click the link below, sign up for my newsletter, and you’ll receive a free bonus epilogue of Damien and Kate’s steamy vacation in Rome, which takes place a few months later, when he gets a week of R&R while on assignment in Syria.

  As a newsletter subscriber, you’ll also find out first about future Paradise Beach book releases!

  Sign up and get your free epilogue by clickin
g here: BookHip.com/NMTJAS

  xoxo,

  Tamara

  Booklist

  PARADISE BEACH SERIES

  All I Know — Book One

  All I Want — Book Two (July 12, 2019)

  All I Ask — Book Three (September 2019)

  All I Do — Book Four (November 2019)

  All I Desire — Book Five (January 2019)

  All I Am — Book Six (March 2020)

  All I Need — Book Seven (May 2020)

  CONSTANT CRAVING SERIES (Exclusively on Amazon)

  Constant Craving — Book One

  Constant Craving — Book Two

  Constant Craving — Book Three

  Constant Craving — The Complete Novel + a bonus novella

  THE STORY SERIES (Exclusively on Amazon)

  Tell Me a Story — Season One

  Tell Me a Story — Season Two

  Tell Me a Story — Season Three

  Tell Me a Story — The Complete Novel + a companion novella

  LOVE IS THE DRUG (Radish Fiction)

  Season One

  Season Two

  THE PRETENDERS SERIES (Wattpad)

  Drive

  Crash

  BURNING SECRETS SERIES (Wattpad)

  Dirty Lies

  Dirty Secrets

  Dirty Games

  Acknowledgments

  I owe a huge thank you to the following readers: Clare Alvarez, Bel McQuillan, Tima Ar-rt, and Mary Otremba, and Joanne Gruskin.

  These amazing women live on four different continents, and yet the universe has managed to throw us together through a love of books. They were invaluable early readers of this series, and I want the world to know how much I appreciate them for their effort and help.

  About the Author

  Tamara Lush lives with her Italian husband and two dogs on Florida’s Gulf Coast.