It’s simple and elegant.
It’s perfectly Sabrina.
Her long dark hair is falling down around her shoulders with a purple, tropical flower tucked behind her ear. Sabrina practically skips down the aisle to me. Once her father places her hand in mine, I gently kiss those lips I love before the minister ever gets the chance to say anything.
“I love you, Princess. You ready to marry me?”
“Since the day you told me you loved me, Aiden.” She touches her forehead to mine quickly, then pulls back, and we face the minister.
Much later, after the toasts are made and the dancing and celebrating have gone long into the night, I carry my wife away to the sound of laughter and clapping from our friends. I walk the long dock leading to our private hut over the ocean and don’t let her feet touch the ground until we’re locked inside. Those beautiful doe eyes lock with mine, and I lean down to kiss her but am stopped by a single finger pressed against my lips.
“I have a present for you.”
“I thought we exchanged presents yesterday, Princess.”
“We did, but this is a special one. I didn’t want to give it to you until tonight.”
She pushes me until I sit down on the bed, then she grabs a long, thin black box tied with a white satin ribbon from her bag and hands it to me. “This is for you.”
I shake it to see what it sounds like. There’s something clunky inside. The box reminds me of the one I gave her for her birthday. It had a diamond tennis bracelet in it, but I’m guessing that’s not what this is.
She smiles that smile I love so much as I untie the box and lift the lid.
There’s a white stick with a pink plus sign showing on a little screen. “What . . .” I lift my eyes to hers and see tears gathering at the corners. “Are you . . .?” My smile grows bigger by the second.
Sabrina nods her head, and I jump to my feet and lift her in my arms, swinging her around. “You’re giving me a baby?”
The tears are flowing down her face now. “Well, you definitely had something to do with it, Aiden.”
Taking her face in my hands, I stare into her eyes, whispering reverently, “You’re having my baby.”
“Are you happy? I know this is sooner than we were planning.”
Picking her up, I carry her to our bed. “You have made me so happy.”
“I love you, Aiden.”
“Forever, Princess.”
Forever.
The End
Acknowledgments
M~ You give me more love every single day, than some people get to experience in a lifetime. Thanks for picking up all the slack when I’m on a deadline.
To my sons ~ It’s never too late to follow your dreams!
Mom~ You are the reason I write strong women. You showed me what it looked like every day of my life. You and Daddy gave me hope for Happy Ever Afters long before Disney ever could. If you’re reading this, I hope you skipped over all the sexy scenes to get here. I don’t know anything about them. Your grandkids were all immaculately conceived.
Tammy ~ You amaze me. You work all day, run your kids around all night and every weekend, yet you still find the time to help me make each book better. You read each and every chapter a million times, fix my terrible grammar, tell me what works and what doesn’t, and I feel your smile come through every note and every email. Thank you for being my friend and the best damn Alpha reader I could ever ask for. If Covid ever ends, drinks are on me!
To my PA, Savannah at Peachy Keen Author Services ~ words are not enough. You are my Yoda. I think I would be rocking in a corner somewhere without you. Thank you for taking this crazy journey with me. You keep me organized, answer all of my questions, create the most beautiful graphics, keep me organized and on track, and so much more.
My Delta Sig Guys ~ Thanks for giving me endless inspiration.
Pat & Joe, you were both integral in my research for this book. Pat ~ You completely changed Murphy’s direction. Joe ~ You gave so much reality to the politics! Love you guys!
My Betas, Brianna, Brittany, and Vicki ~ I cannot thank you enough. Thank you for taking the time out of your own crazy schedules to read Murphy & Sabrina. Thank you for loving them and this world and helping to make it better. I love reading your notes.
My Street Team, Shawna, Nicole, Vicki, Ashley, Amy, Nichole, Kelly, Toonasa, Tash, Heather, Shannon & Oriana ~ Thank you, ladies, for loving this world and helping me to promote it. I am so grateful for each and every one of you!
Golden, you are so talented! The cover you created for Murphy & Sabrina is beautiful. Thank you for taking my idea and walking me through what we needed to do to make it a reality.
Shauna and Wildfire Marketing ~ Thank you for a great promo tour.
To all of the Indie authors out there who have helped me along the way – you are amazing! This community is so incredibly supportive, and I am so lucky to be a part of it!
Thank you to all of the bloggers who took the time to read, review, and promote More Than A Game.
And finally, the biggest thank you to all of the readers who took a chance on a newer author. I hope you enjoyed reading Murphy & Sabrina’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
About the Author
Bella Matthews is a Jersey girl at heart. She is married to her very own Alpha Male and raising three little ones. You can typically find her running from one sporting event to another. When she is home, she is usually hiding in her home office with the only other female in her house, her rescue dog Tinker Bell by her side. She likes to write swoon-worthy heroes and sassy, smart heroines with a healthy dose of laughter thrown and all the feels.
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What’s Next?
Annabelle’s book, Always Earned, Never Given will be releasing in June 2021.
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Prologue
Annabelle – Before
I still remember my very first ballet class. I couldn't believe how soft and shiny my pretty pink slippers were. I hated having to let my mom put my dirty blonde hair up in a tight bun. Daddy liked when I wore it in braids, so that’s what I wanted. But mom told me no. “Now, Annabelle, if you want to be a ballerina, you have to dress the part.”
My parents had taken me to see The Nutcracker for Christmas a month before. The dancers were so beautiful up on that stage. They looked like they were flying through the air. That night I decided that I wanted to be a ballerina more than anything. I was five years old and ready to conquer the world. It was that determination that had me sit back down on my mother's vanity stool and let her continue to stab me with bobby pins.
One class a week quickly turned to more. Eventually I was dancing five nights a week and all morning on Saturdays. Once I got a taste of ballet, there was no turning back. I had no way of knowing that I would be accepted into one of the most prestigious ballet schools in this country just five years later. What ten year old wants to leave everything they have ever known to move away to a school hours away from their family? This one.
I didn't know that nine years after that, I would be standing on the stage of Lincoln Center, taking my final bow of the night as a principal dancer, having just danced Giselle for a sneak preview for the ballet company's most prominent patrons. I had worked my entire life to achieve my dream of being a principal dancer, and tonight those dreams were coming true.
As Mikael wraps his fingers around my hand, he leads me to the front of the stage for our final bow, and I'm finding it hard to believe I'm really here. The spotlight is blinding me, making it nearly impossible to see anything further out than the orchestra pit. The sound of applause is deafening, and the theater isn't even full. The bouquet of ros
es I was given feels heavy in my hands, and the scent is overpowering my senses. I need to ground myself. I'm not sure why I feel an impending panic attack, but it's there, lurking just below the surface. I close my eyes as we bow one last time and breathe deeply. As we step back and the massive stage curtains close, I feel Mikael wrap his arms around me. I’ve known Mikael for years. He’s a good looking man. Blonde hair, blue eyes and a lean dancers build all help to create a beautiful package and a magnetic dancer. "You were incredible tonight, Annabelle." He lifts me off my feet and spins me around, which is the very last thing I need.
When my feet touch the ground again, I push back. "You were wonderful tonight, too. I can't believe tomorrow is opening night." I take another deep breath, holding it for a five-count before letting it out slowly for another five. When I turn to walk off stage, our dance master, Mr. Archer, is there waiting for me.
"Annabelle, I need to speak with you. Please come with me."
Shit. This isn't good. He must not be happy with our performance.
"Arch, if you're going to give her shit for the pas de deux, it's on me, not Belle. I was a beat off. She tried to compensate." Mikael can be sweet and caring when he wants to be, but he usually wants to get in my pants as a reward.
"This does not involve you, Mikael. Annabelle, I need to speak with you." He looks pointedly at Mikael, then back to me. "Alone."
When Mr. Archer walks toward my dressing room, I follow. I started out as part of the corps de ballet with him when I was seventeen. He saw something in me then and pushed me to give more than I knew possible that year. By the time I turned eighteen, I was a demi-soloist and was promoted to soloist only a few months later. Dancing Giselle is my first time as a principal, and I cannot wait for my parents to see me tomorrow night. I can't wait to show them that all of my work has paid off. That I did it. That it was all worth it.
When we enter my dressing room, I smile as I see my name listed on the door.
Holy shit.
I have my own dressing room.
I doubt that will ever get old.
Mr. Archer points to the chair in front of the brightly lit vanity. "Please, Annabelle, take a seat." His voice has taken on a tone I'm unfamiliar with. And, suddenly, I'm feeling the fluttering of the panic again.
When I hesitate to sit, he gives me the look. The one that says do not argue, just do as you’re told. I gently sit down. "What's going on, Arch? I know the pas de deux was a beat off, but…"
He interrupts me. "Annabelle, I got a call during the second act. Your parents were in a car accident in Pennsylvania."
"What? When? How?" A million questions fly through my head as the room begins to spin.
Arch walks over to me, placing an arm on my shoulder and squeezing. "Annabelle, I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this."
"Then don't." I shrug his arm off and stand up. The room seems to tilt on its axis, but I push through. I focus on the clock hung over the door, not on the feelings I feel suffocating me. "When… when did you get the call?"
"Annabelle, you need to sit back down. I wasn't done." He tries to grip my shoulders, but I turn away.
Refusing to look at him, I ask again, "I asked you when you got the call?"
"Right after the curtain went up on the second act. We didn't want to bother you with the information until the performance was over. It wouldn't have changed the outcome."
I'm a dancer. I have a pain threshold three times higher than the average person. I dance seven hours a day on my legs, and they just gave out beneath me.
Arch is unable to move fast enough to catch me as I fall to my knees.
He lowers himself down in front of me. "Annabelle, they're gone. Your parents are gone."
"Where's my brother?" I can’t bring myself to look at this man yet. This man that let me dance the last hour and half without telling me my parents were gone. Who allowed my brother to stay alone?
Who’s with him? Is he scared?
I refuse to let my tears flow freely.
Not yet. No, I have things to do. I need to find Tommy.
Archer shakes his head. "They didn't mention anyone else. The hospital was looking for you. That was all I was told. Tell me what you need, and we will get it for you."
"I need a flight to Philly."
I didn't even go back to my apartment. Just changed into sweatpants, a long-sleeved Guns ‘N Roses t-shirt, and my Ugg's and walked out the door. Ginny, the admin for the ballet company, meets me in the hall. She wraps her seventy-five-year-old arms around me and gives me her best squeeze. "Annabelle, I've emailed you your flight information and have a town car waiting out front for you. I've also called the hospital and given them your contact information. I asked them to call as soon as they could to update you on your brother. But I warned them you would be on a plane in an hour. Now, stay strong and let us know if there is anything we can do for you, honey."
Going through the motions, I limply hug Ginny back and tap her arms to get her to let go of me. "Thank you, Ginny. I'll call when I can."
Then I'm out the front door of Lincoln Center, completely unaware that this would be the last time I ever danced on this stage.
Two hours later, I'm running through Kroydon Hills hospital's front doors in my hometown of Kroydon Hills, Pennsylvania. The hospital called and left a voice mail while I was in the air that I didn't get until I landed. I called them back as soon as I could but couldn't speak to anyone who could tell me what was happening.
Running across the old, yellowing linoleum floor, I get to the security desk and ask them where I need to go.
Oh, God.
He's in the Pediatric ICU.
This hospital is like a maze. Go down the hall, make a left, take the elevator to the third floor, make another left. The steel double doors I'm greeted by are locked. I have to press the intercom and ask to be buzzed in.
Once inside, I'm met by a kind nurse in Mickey Mouse scrubs, who escorts me to Tommy's room, and for the second time tonight, I feel like my knees are going to give out on me. He looks so small in this bed, wrapped tightly in a white blanket that I have no doubt will be too itchy for him when he wakes up. He has a tube coming out of his nose and more tubes attached to his arms. His beautiful green eyes are closed, and his head is shaved and bandaged up on the right side of his body. "Is he… Is he going to be okay?" The tears are there, behind my eyes, pushing to be let free, but I absolutely refuse to allow myself to lose control now.
The nurse, who barely looks older than I am, steps closer to me. "He is. It looks worse than it is. We had to sedate him to calm him down, but he should be waking up soon."
I slowly move to the side of the hospital bed and tentatively run my fingers over his hair. "He has Autism. Did you know that?" He’ll hate this. He’ll hate this room and having so many things touching him.
"We had an idea but couldn't be sure. Ms. Hart, do you have anyone I can call for you? Any family that we can have come to stay with you?"
I shake my head no, never looking away from Tommy. I didn’t realize that I lost my battle with my tears until I see one hit his bruised cheek. "No. We don't have any extended family. It's just us." Dad used to say it didn't matter that we didn't have a big family, as long as we had four Harts, we had more than everyone else. I look back to the nurse. "Was his dinosaur brought in with him?"
"Let me check for you. I'll be right back."
Dropping my big purse on the floor, I pull the vinyl lounge chair next to Tommy's bed and sink down into the squeaky fabric. I've spent more time with my little brother on skype chats than any other way during his short little life. Mom found out she was pregnant right after I left for school. I thought about not going, about skipping that year and trying out again the following year, but she wouldn't let me do it. She told me we'd have holidays and summers, and that New York was only an hour-long flight away. She was right, and we made the best of it and offset the rest with a ton of skype.
My little brother marched to the beat
of his own drummer, and that drummer was a dinosaur. When the nurse re-entered the room with a plastic bag with Tommy's sneakers, clothes, and his stuffed Toy Story Rex, I breathed a sigh of relief.
I knew this stuffed animal would help Tommy deal with the trauma of the day.
What I didn't know was how I was going to deal with it.
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Nothing prepared me for meeting Brady Ryan.
I’ve been called football royalty my entire life.
Born into a family that has experienced the highs and lows of the game.
Constantly surrounded by football players and coaches.
Now I’m following my father across the country for yet another team.
I’m supposed to be spending this year finding myself, but can I do that with Brady by my side, or is he just another player?
Natalie Sinclair came into my world and changed my life.
Her father was the new professional coach in town, and her twin brother played on my team.
This tiny dancer fit into our circle of friends like she was the missing piece.
Neither of us might have been looking for something serious, but that changed the day we met.
Now nothing can keep her from me. Not her twin brother. Not the threats of a jealous ex. Not even myself. Now I just need to convince her.
More Than A Game (The Kings of Kroydon Hills Book 2) Page 26