by Naima Simone
Because I want her in my life.
“We should head home,” Danielle says.
She’s going to be the hardest nut to crack. Again, I get it. I didn’t come into this expecting miracles. Just a chance. And, I’m grateful for it.
“Ready, sweetheart?”
“Ready, Mom.” Bethany smiles at her mother, then turns back to me, throwing her arms around my waist in an impromptu hug that has tears stinging my eyes.
I blink them back as I return the embrace.
“Thanks for coming, Z. I’ll text you later, okay?”
“Deal. Make sure you okay it with your parents first, though?”
“Got it.” She releases me and grabbing her mother’s hand, gives me one last wave, and heads off across the parking lot with them.
I remain at the zoo’s entrance for a few extra moments, watching them, gathering myself. This happened. I got to spend the day with my daughter. Blowing out a breath, I will my pulse to slow. At some point, I need to call my mom and let her know about the change of events. It’s funny how I shared everything about Bethany—seeing her again, setting up an arrangement to get to know her—with Axel first, but not my own mother. Not that she won’t be happy for me. At least I think she will. We haven’t spoken about Bethany since I returned from the hospital after giving birth.
Another thing I’ve decided to own up to since accepting my feelings for Axel. My resentment for my mother and grandparents. I can have lingering anger toward them for not supporting me and still adore them. And it’s okay. Because I’ve forgiven them. The good they’ve given me and shown me far outweighs a moment we faced when all of us were out of out our depth. I can’t hold that against them.
A smirk rides my lips as I walk toward my car. I’ve become a regular Dr. Phil since Axel dumped me. Of course, that might have something to do with me deciding to return to counseling. Since James’s betrayal and desertion, I haven’t been kind to myself. I’ve blamed myself for things that aren’t my sins, and some of that goes back to getting pregnant and the adoption. There’s nothing wrong with a refresher round of counseling, and I deserve to be the healthiest, best me I can be. For Bethany, the Mavises, and for myself.
I press the key fob and glance in the direction of the flashing lights. There I… am…
No.
It can’t be.
But as Axel pushes off the side of my car and stalks my way, I can’t deny that he’s a figment of my starved imagination.
Move. Walk past him.
My brain issues the order, but by the time my feet move, it’s too late. He’s in front of me, his clean cedar scent enveloping me. His beautiful, shockingly blue eyes roam my face as if he’s seeing me for the first time in four years instead of days. His blond hair frames those razor-sharp cheekbones, tempting me to trace the blades with my lips before touching them to his waiting mouth.
His long, elegant fingers flex next to his thick, denim-covered thighs as if he’s barely controlling himself from reaching for me…
It’s those hands that snap me out of my stupor.
Because he might not have used them to shove me out of that hospital room door, but he did it just the same.
“What’re you doing here, Axel?” Dammit. Why does my voice contain a hoarse rasp instead of a strong, what-the-fuck-do-you-want sneer?
“Bridget told me you would be here for the first meeting with Bethany and her parents. I wanted to be here just in case you—”
“What? Needed you?” I scoff. Stop that shit right now, I scold my traitorous heart as it simultaneously squeezes and sighs. He wants no part of you. Get your shit together. “Nope. All good here. If that’s it…”
I step forward, but he doesn’t move. His hands lift as if to grip my arms, but hell no.
“Don’t.” I jerk backward, my pulse thudding in my ears.
Jesus, he can’t touch me. I’m not fool enough to think that just I’ve developed an immunity to him. That’s not possible. And I can’t fold in front of him. I might love him, but I’ve already been in a relationship where I was more invested than the other person. That profit margin cost me too much.
And with Axel?
I would make the stock market crash of 1929 look like a banner day.
I won’t sell myself short like that ever again. I’m worth more than that.
“Fine. I won’t touch you. I promise.” He holds his hands up, palms out, that gruff voice so gentle I want to curl up around it even as I know it’s impossible for several reasons. “Just… Two minutes. I don’t deserve them, but please give me two minutes and then I won’t bother you again.”
I don’t reply.
But I don’t walk away either.
I’m a fool.
“Everything you said in hospital that night… You were right. I was running scared. If I’m honest, I’ve been running scared since I met you. You are so unlike any woman I’ve known, and being with you isn’t just a night watching TV. Or a night eating Chinese food. Or a night making love. It’s an epiphany. An awakening. But when you’ve been asleep and in self-preservation mode for most of your life, coming alive outside of the one thing that’s been your reason for breathing—and for me that’s always been art, sculpting—it’s terrifying. You terrified me. I don’t know how to explain it. But it’s like…”
He frowns, his throat working as he glances down, as if searching the ground for the answer. When he returns his gaze to mine, there’s a fierceness there that steals what little breath I maintained since he started talking.
“It’s like living underwater all your life and never having used your lungs before. And when you break the surface, that first gasp of breath is life fire to your lungs. It’s jarring, painful. Scary. But it’s also so beautiful that you can never return underwater again. No matter how much you want to return because the familiar is better than the unknown. That’s what you are for me, Zenobia. That first lungful of air. And I tried to go back to the world I knew. But it’s dark there without you. It’s cold. It’s lonely. Too quiet. I don’t want to be there anymore. I need you. More than you could possibly need me. I need you to be my noise. My color. My pain. My fire. My heartbeat.”
He shifts closer and his palm raises, hovers next to my cheek. But he doesn’t touch me, respecting my wishes. I note the fine tremble in that hand, and it echoes the one in my heart.
“I love you,” he whispers. “And I’m sorry I hurt you to save myself. You were right to call me a coward. But I’m not anymore. I’m still scared as fuck, but I’m willing to be frightened with you. For you. Because I can’t be without you. I love you.”
Part of me yells that I should let him sweat it out. I should make him suffer. Because he hurt me. And it’s true he did. But this man standing in front of me with his heart in his eyes and hands? Yes, he very well might hurt me in the future, but it won’t be in the way he did in that ER room, and it won’t be intentionally. Because I believe him when he says he loves me.
So, I shut that bitter bitch up and throw myself into his arms.
And he catches me.
Just like I knew he would.
Still… “If you pull that shit again, I’ll cut you to the white meat,” I snarl, pulling back and jabbing a finger at his nose.
His arms lock around me, frowning as he pulls me tight against him. “Is that an American thing I’m going to have to learn like grits?”
“That and Real Housewives of Atlanta.”
“Oh fuck.”
I grin. “I love you, too.”
And I kiss him.
Because that’s what you do when you have a happily ever after.
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Books by Naima Simone
SECRETS AND SINS SERIES
Gabriel
Malachim
Raphael
Chayot
GUARDING HER BODY SERIES
Witness to Passion
Killer Curves
BACHELOR AUCTION SERIES
Beauty and the Bachelor
The Millionaire Makeover
The Bachelor’s Promise
A Millionaire at Midnight
WAG SERIES
Scoring with the Wrong Twin
Scoring Off the Field
Scoring the Player’s Baby
LICK SERIES
Only for a Night
Only for Your Touch
Only for You
SWEETEST TABOO SERIES
Sin and Ink
Passion and Ink
BLACKOUT BILLIONAIRES SERIES
The Billionaire’s Bargain
Black Tie Billionaire
Blame It On the Billionaire
BILLIONAIRES OF BOSTON SERIES
Vows in Name Only
ROSE BEND SERIES
The Road to Rose Bend
OTHER BOOKS
Ruthless Pride
Trust Fund Fiance
Back in the Texan’s Bed
Grading Curves
Flirting with Sin
Sweet Surrender
Fairy Tales Unleashed
Acknowledgements
First and always, thank you to my heavenly Father who has made all of this possible. I’ve co-written every book with You, and not can I not do it without You, I don’t want to!
To Gary. Thank you for being the most amazing husband, partner, cheerleader, chef and rock. You are my real-life hero, and I love you now and forever.
To Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward. Thank you for creating this wonderful series and especially Broody Brit, which stirred the idea for Axel and Zenobia. I’ve been a long-time reader and fangirl. Thank you so much for choosing me to participate in this amazing world and allowing me to write in it. #Fangirlforlife
To Dan Piedade. A huge thank you for being so kind and endlessly patient. I can’t think of the number of times I stressed over sending an email, asking this question or sending in this file approval, and you never failed to ease my nerves or make me smile with your kind and enthusiastic replies. You are just awesome!
To Dahlia Rose or my writing partner-in-crime. Our writing challenges and your many ear worms have gotten me through many books, including this one. I am so blessed to call you friend.
To Kenya Goree-Bell. I don’t think you know how much I appreciate your friendship, your belief in me and your huge, beautiful, glittery rainbow spirit. If not for you, I might still be writing this book. Thank you for the kick in the pants and the advice. You’re my girl, and not only do I adore you, I love you. See? There. It’s in print. You can never deny that I’ve said it! LOL!
To Debra Glass for being my mentor, friend and critique partner after all these years. We’re still going strong! And I’m still asking, How does she KNOW THESE THINGS? LOL! You never cease to amaze me with your selflessness and knowledge.
A huge thank you to Talia Hibbert for helping me with shape Axel into the growly, proper—but not too proper—British hero I imagined. I so appreciate the time and patience you gave me in answering all of my questions and emails. You exemplify the kindness that is in this industry.
To Michel Prince. Thank you SO much for not having me out here in these publishing streets sounding like a Grey’s Anatomy reject! LOL! You went over and beyond answering all of my numerous medical questions, and you have no idea how grateful I am for your patience and generosity of knowledge. You rock, woman!
And finally, a ginormous thank you to the Saints and Sinners. Your enthusiasm for this book kept me going, and I just love all of you! Thank you for giving me a safe space to let my freak flag fly! LOL!
Author Bio
Published since 2009, USA Today Bestselling author Naima Simone loves writing sizzling romances with heart, a touch of humor and snark. Her books have been featured in The Washington Post and Entertainment Weekly, and described as balancing “crackling, electric love scenes with exquisitely rendered characters caught in emotional turmoil.” She is wife to Superman, or his non-Kryptonian, less bullet proof equivalent, and mother to the most awesome kids ever. They all live in perfect, sometimes domestically-challenged bliss in the southern United States.
Naima loves hearing from readers! Find her at www.naimasimone.com.