ALSO BY AUDREY CARLAN
International Guy Series
Paris: International Guy Book 1
New York: International Guy Book 2
Copenhagen: International Guy Book 3
Milan: International Guy Book 4
San Francisco: International Guy Book 5
Montreal: International Guy Book 6
London: International Guy Book 7
Berlin: International Guy Book 8
Washington, DC: International Guy Book 9
Madrid: International Guy Book 10
Rio: International Guy Book 11
Calendar Girl Series
January
February
March
April
May
June
July
August
September
October
November
December
Trinity Series
Body
Mind
Soul
Life
Fate
Falling Series
Angel Falling
London Falling
Justice Falling
Lotus House Series
Resisting Roots
Sacred Serenity
Divine Desire
Limitless Love
Silent Sins
Intimate Intuition
Enlightened End
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2019 by Audrey Carlan
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Montlake Romance, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake Romance are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
eISBN-13: 9781503957763
Cover design by Letitia Hasser
Cover photography by Wander Aguiar Photography
To Jeananna Goodall.
A year. We made it a full year on this project.
You are my biggest cheerleader, my strongest support,
the person I can lean on when I fear it’s not enough.
You remind me every day why we work so hard.
It’s all about the story.
It’s all about friendship.
It’s all about love, light,
and living our best lives.
Together, we continue to live our truth.
CONTENTS
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
EPILOGUE
Though this is...
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
1
SKYLER
Wendy flutters around her master bathroom, adjusting her boobs in her strapless, corset-style wedding gown, touching up her hair, and prodding at her unmovable hairdo. I made sure that hairstyle will not so much as shift in a harsh breeze by hiring the best celebrity hairdresser in the business. Those fiery short locks are not moving from the superbadass bouffant look she’s sporting. The longer hair on top is raised in what can only be described as a stylized pouf, sleek on the sides, looking like nothing but hair magic, the kind my girl wanted on her wedding day. It’s a little punk rock, a little fashion model chic, and a whole lot Wendy Bannerman, now Wendy Pritchard.
“So, when are you and Bossman getting hitched?” Wendy asks while touching up her bright cherry-red lipstick.
I mull over her question while checking out my sexy-as-sin strappy Valentino Garavani Rockstud heels. They’re gold with studs all over the T-strap style and a full four-and-a-quarter-inch spike. Parker told me this morning that these shoes were staying on while he fucked me tonight. I cannot wait.
Wendy’s question is deep, though, and since my ex-best friend has been confined to a mental facility to await her final sentencing, I’ve had two months of nothing but loving, recovering, and spending time making a happy home and building a life with my man.
I know without a doubt Parker is my forever. I go to sleep cuddling against his warm chest and wake up to smiles and “I love yous” every day. More than that, he shows me in all the little things and special ways of his. He makes my coffee every morning and serves it to me. He kisses me the moment he sees me and before he leaves my side each day. Even if it’s to go throw the ball for our dogs, he always gives me a moment of affection, which lets me know that he’s committed to me. For the long haul. Forever.
“Hello! Earth to Sky. I said . . . When are you and Parker gonna make playing house more like prepping for a family than sharing space?”
I frown and tip my head, taking in all that is Wendy in her beautiful wedding gown, hand on her hip, sassy expression plastered on her features.
“You’re one to talk. You’ve been with Mick what, four years, and are finally tying the knot.”
She waves her hand. “Technicality. He collared my ass in six months. In our world . . .” She tugs on the new, one-inch platinum choker at her neck. The new one has a black diamond heart dangling from a ringed loop at the center. Mick privately presented her with this piece last night. Once it’s put on, the lock disappears into the design, and it can’t be removed. The only way to remove it will be to cut it off. Wendy was beside herself with glee when she showed it to me this morning prior to the ceremony outside on their estate. Apparently Mick got a tattoo that matched the design of her collar but on one of his wrists. I couldn’t see it under his dress shirt, nor did I ask to see it, because it’s not mine to see. If he wants to share that piece of his commitment to his wife, he will. Though the concept of her man branding himself to only her is not lost on me. It definitely makes the ultimate statement.
“In our lifestyle, the collar is the highest form of commitment. We didn’t initially need the rings or the public statement. We committed to one another in the way that means the most to us. However, once we decided to have children, it made sense to seal the deal legally.” She winks.
I nod and pluck at my lip, thinking about Parker and me walking down the path of marriage and children. He knows I want to cut back on the number of acting jobs I take on after the A-Lister Trilogy is filmed. We’ve talked at length about me opening up an acting studio for kids, especially children who are less fortunate and wouldn’t otherwise be able to afford professional classes. First, though, we’d need to commit to one another completely.
“Honestly, Wen, we haven’t talked about it. Our future is always just there. When we have a family, when we get married . . . it’s not like he’s made any overtures that he plans on us tying the knot any time soon.”
Wendy pouts. “Hmm. Well, then, you’re just going to have to do it yourself.”
I frown. “You mean, ask him to marry me?” The idea forms and lights up like a freakin’ halogen bulb over the top of my head.
Wendy smiles huge. “Whoa. Now that’s an idea. I was thinking maybe you need to push him toward the concept by leaving wedding magazines around, dropping hints and stuff. But I like your idea way more! It’s perfect. Who says the woman can’t ask the man?” She rubs her hands together and nods. “Yeah, me like this idea a lot. It’s not as though he’d turn you down. The man is over-the-moon in love with you. I just imagine with all that’s happened, the fact that you’re dealing with a lot and just coming over the top of that hill, it might make hi
m leery to make any new life changes.”
“True,” I murmur, knowing Parker worries about me more than anything.
“Which means it’s up to you to do it!” She claps. “Woo-hoo! Operation SkyPark Proposal commences now!”
I groan. “Wen, let’s not forget that we’re at your wedding right now. Your husband is probably pacing the floor wondering why you’re taking so long. My guy is probably getting smashed with his brethren, and you need to prep for your honeymoon! And the whole reason we came in here was because you had to pee!”
She crosses her legs and wiggles her hips. “Yikes! Yeah, still gotta go. Wanna hold up this end of my dress so I can take care of that?”
I chuckle, grabbing for the hem of her shockingly poufy-as-all-get-out dress. The top is totally kick-ass rocker girl with a lace-up corset, but the bottom is straight-up princess, over-the-top, and all Wendy.
Once she’s done her business and washed up, we walk out, arms linked at the elbows.
“Your wedding was perfect.” I nudge her shoulder and smile.
“Yeah, it was. Now it’s time to get rowdy and start Operation SkyPark Proposal.” Her bright-blue eyes seem to sparkle with white-hot fire at the mere idea.
I shake my head. “One-track mind.”
She shrugs. “When something is good, it’s good. When it’s right, it’s right. Why not move on it? There’s no reason to weigh all the pros and cons. Don’t even allow the negative in. That’s what Mick has taught me. Just roll with life as it comes. Stop letting fear drive your decisions. It’s time to let love take the driver’s seat.”
Her words sink in, and I nod. “Girl, you are wise.”
She grins wickedly. “A wiseass most of the time, but I have my moments.”
“Like now.” A growly voice breaks into our chatter. “You better get your perky ass to your husband’s side right this instant, or that ass will no longer be wise, but red.”
Wendy smirks, winks at me, and then sashays over to Mick. He watches her movements like a hawk scouting his prey. When she stands right in front of him, she lowers her eyes. “Sir . . .”
A throaty growl leaves his mouth as he loops a finger through the ring on her collar and tugs. She gasps, her blue eyes darkening at nothing but that simple touch. Damn, Mick has some mad skills when it comes to his woman. Then again, all Parker has to do is skim my neck with his nose and inhale my scent, and I’m a puddle at his feet.
Wendy has an excellent point. When it’s right, it’s right.
“I’ll leave you two alone.” I grin and move around the two locked in a stare-down.
“That’s probably a good idea,” Mick says to me, but his gaze never leaves Wendy’s.
I skedaddle along the hallway, down the long staircase, and past several more rooms before finally making it to the backyard where the fun is happening under massive white tents, each column dripping in flowers and twinkle lights.
When I enter the main area, I catch Parker’s gaze. He’s talking to his dad and mom but waves them off to come to me. His dad is in a wheelchair but smiling jovially today. I love seeing a smile on his face. With his therapy bringing him down, we don’t see a lot of that grin, and it’s definitely a sight to behold.
“Everything okay, Peaches?”
I nod and take him in as if it’s the first time I’m seeing him. He’s wearing a brilliant pitch-black bespoke suit, a yellow satin tie, and a golden paisley pocket square. The dress shirt under his jacket is a crisp white and paired with a gray vest that goes perfectly with my pale-yellow slip dress. The smile adorning his ruggedly handsome, clean-shaven face is wide and heartfelt as he approaches. It’s like I’m watching the other half of my soul lock into place right before my eyes. It all seems so very clear to me.
It’s him.
Parker.
It’s always been him.
It will always be him.
It’s up to me to make it forever.
“How’s my dream girl?” He grins, looping a hand around my waist, bringing our bodies together and dipping his head to plant his nose at the crux of where my shoulder and neck meet. He inhales deeply, and I close my eyes, memorizing the very moment when I decided I would make this man, the other half of my soul, my husband.
As Wendy said, Operation SkyPark Proposal commences now.
2
PARKER
“Damn, baby, you smell so good,” I murmur against her skin, then place a few sloppy kisses there. She giggles, and it’s music to my ears. Hearing her laugh has been rare these past few months. Her doing it more and more eases the vise of worry squeezing my heart. Every day she seems to smile more, and along with that comes a little more pep to her step. This wedding has gone a long way in helping her heal, by spending gobs of time with Wendy. Sky’s focus on something beautiful has been a godsend.
Skyler snuggles closer as I run my hand up and down her exposed back. “Have I told you today that I fuckin’ love this dress?”
She laughs out loud and tips her head back, which gives me the opportunity to layer a line of kisses up the delicate column of her neck, landing at her mouth. Once I’ve kissed her softly, she pulls back, her forearms looped around my shoulders.
“You may have mentioned your appreciation for this dress a time or two, yes.”
I grin like a devil who’s just been granted another soul for eternity. “And the shoes . . . You remember what I have planned for those fuckhot spikes?”
Skyler flushes a pretty pink at the cheeks. “Mm-hmm . . . something about having them digging into the back of your thighs while you fucked me into next week, if I remember the conversation correctly.”
I run my hand down to the exposed skin above her ass and flutter my fingers there, knowing it’s a sensitive location for her. Usually when I have her belly and tits to the mattress, and I put my mouth on that spot, she goes wild. It’s not exactly the same when I use my hand, but the intention is to remind her of what’s to come.
She shivers in my arms, and her brown eyes dazzle and darken to a rich espresso color as lust invades her senses.
Message received.
Sky rests her head against my chest as I hold her close, soaking in her essence and warmth. “I’m so glad Wendy and Mick pushed their wedding a couple of months,” I murmur into her hair.
“Me too. Everyone is happier now that things have settled down.”
I inhale fully, letting out what feels like a ton of emotional weight filling my heart. “Exactly. Having the IG team back in full force, being in our home, having you to wake up to every morning . . .”
My girl lifts her head and smiles beautifully.
“That part is awesome,” she agrees. “And I’m thrilled that Bo got Annie to come back and that we had the opportunity to mend fences over some beers and food at Lucky’s.”
“Definitely. She seems to be coming out of her shell and truly becoming part of the team. I’m glad to have her back too.”
I stare down at the woman who owns my soul. “You are so damn beautiful, Sky. I’ll never tire of looking at this face.” I cup her chin and run my thumb over her cheek before dipping down to take her mouth. Right when our lips graze, I hear Royce’s voice roar above the music and the other partygoers.
“Woman! You make me chase that sweet ass one more yard and I’m going to lose my damn mind! Shee-it. Give a man a break, why don’cha!”
Both Sky and I turn to the side and watch Roy grab Kendra’s hand and spin her around until she’s in his arms. Her mouth opens to say something, and based on her twisted facial expression, that something is not going to be pleasant, when he cups the back of her head and smashes his lips to hers. He kisses her hard, taking a long drink from the well that is her mouth. She gives as good as she gets, rubbing her lean body against his. He slants his head one direction; she mimics the move, tilting to the other side, both going full blast on the kiss.
I swear I’ve seen men come back from war and not be able to match this level of intensity, and those men ha
ve waited months to see their women.
This kiss, however, is one for the books.
I watch Sky as she pulls my phone out of my jacket pocket and takes a handful of photos of the kissing duo.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“Honey, we need proof of this. If I didn’t see it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it!”
I shake my head. “This is not going to be an easy road . . . for either of them.”
She frowns. “Why would you say that?”
I don’t have the chance to answer because Kendra pulls back, her eyes looking wild and frightened, before she whips her hand out and lays a wallop of a smack on Royce’s stunned face.
I cringe. “Ouch. That had to hurt.” I suck in a sharp breath.
“I told you to keep your hands off me!” Kendra growls low in her throat.
Roy doesn’t so much as move to cover the cheek that has to be burning like fire. His mouth twists into a snarl. “Stop running, goddamn it! You have to talk to me. This is not over.”
Kendra glances around and notes that pretty much everyone is watching their passion come to life. “It was a handful of really bad decisions. We agreed!” she insists, practically stomping her foot in her small tirade.
“Well, I reserve the right to”—he gets into her face—“change. My. Mind.”
Her features contort into an expression of frustration and anger. “Let it go. I mean it, Royce. This time around, what we had was over before it ever even started.” On that note, she twists in her unbelievably tall stilettos and races off, leaving Roy breathing heavily, his gaze seemingly lost, eyes locked on her retreating form.
He hangs his head and runs a hand over his bald dome.
“Not again,” I groan. My spidey sense is working overtime; this is going to be a shit show of epic proportions.
“Maybe we should, um . . .” Skyler lifts her head toward Roy.
“Yeah.” I sigh and lead my girl over to my brother.
“Roy . . .”
Royce’s head snaps up, his dark eyes filled with nothing but heartache. I shake my head. “Brother, let’s see a man about a bottle of whiskey. You look like you could use a drink.”
“Damn straight.” He half groans while adjusting his wide shoulders. The guy played college football back in the day and hasn’t lost any of that bulk even at thirty. He’s big. He’s black. He’s badass. Until now, he didn’t take any shit from anyone. Then again, not everyone is a tall African American beauty with light-hazel eyes, long dark hair, and naturally full hips on a body that won’t quit.
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