by Aimee Laine
She tucked the note behind her, steeled herself for his response. “Tripp—”
He opened his eyes wide. “That’s not on there.”
She held up a hand. If he could give up his gift to blend with her, the least she could do was let him know she’d do the same for him—if she could have. “Tripp,” she started again. He remained quiet, so she pressed on. “You’ve offered me more than yourself. You’ve shown me the type of man you are. You’ve loved me, romanced me—” She held her hands up to the lights and stars above. “—in a way no one else has. You said you fell in love with me on the beach, but I found you long before.”
His eyes opened wide. “What?”
“Shh!” Ian said. “We’re trying to listen.”
Laughter abounded.
“You were the man I found, the only time I ever looked … for … anyone. I’ve known about you since I was eight, but feared what we would bring to each other, vowed not to find you again and expected we’d never meet. The fates thought otherwise, and to them … I am thankful.” She sniffled. “If you give to me, then I give, too. Accept me in return, and I’ll accept your … offer.” She leaned in to him. “And if it’s use it or lose it, we’ll lose it together.”
Their hands entwined, the minister laid his over both of theirs. As he moved in closer, a smooth object slid against Lexi’s palm. “Do you both give to each other?”
“I do,” they said at the same time.
Their man of the cloth beckoned them forward with his fingertips. “No longer will your lives be two, but one, made for each other, with each other and together will you remain.”
He let go and in Lexi’s hand, she found the magnets—both of them.
“You get one shot at this,” the minister said. “Make it count. This ain’t no damn unity candle where you snuff it out. You give it your all, and if you do it right, then well … you’ll see.” He leaned back. “I now pronounce you … joined.” He clapped his hands, and the guests stood, applauding amidst their own tears. “You may now kiss, and I do mean really kiss … your bride.”
Tripp stepped to Lexi. Their lips touched, and the lights flickered. He pushed as she pulled him in, and sparks flew from every electrical element. They tilted against each other, the stars themselves flashing at their motion. Tripp’s arms tightened as Lexi’s did the same. Their lips remained connected as those in the chairs shielded their eyes from the brightness and all light ceased and came back one pinpoint at a time.
“Now, that was a kiss,” the minister said as they separated a little. “As two, you would not be connected, but as one, you are.”
Lexi opened her hand again. The magnets from the kitchen table had stuck together. She lifted up to Tripp, and he smiled, inclining his head toward the minister.
George, or so Lexi called him in her head, motioned with the crook of his finger.
They leaned toward him.
“You still have your gifts, but you can only use them together, never apart. In this way, you’ll never be able to use them against each other. And that … will never go away.”
EPILOGUE
Lexi and Tripp woke the next morning, in her bed from the home she and Emma shared, but in a house for which her name had been added to the deed. She snuggled against Tripp’s naked chest, drew circles with her fingertip along his skin as the sun streamed through the three overhead skylights.
The night had continued with hors d’oeuvres by Dulces, dinner by Dulces and of course dessert by Dulces. Most family and friends dispersed to hotels in a series of limousines Tripp hired for the evening, but each vowed to stop back by after their hangovers ebbed. Emma and Ian opted to stay in the two other farmhouse bedrooms.
Everywhere smelled of fresh paint and new floors, yet the first and fifth stair still squeaked.
Lexi smiled at how wonderful it had been—how perfect the renovations had made the house and how much being connected to Tripp suited her.
“Good morning, Mrs. Fox.” Tripp caressed her cheek with his fingertip.
“Good morning.” She laid her lips against his. “I guess we’re the same people we were a few hours ago and yet completely new ones, too.”
“I’d agree with that assessment. You know, the house was our connection, right? Like George and Marge’s Mara for them. The journal said saving her brought them together. I think they meant their gifts converged, so they knew.”
She nodded against him. “Sounds exactly like us. So, what comes next for us?”
“Knock, knock, newlyweds. Here’s the Times. Thought you both might like to see the front page article.” Emma dropped the newspaper between them before she scurried out of the room.
Tripp shifted to a seated position while Lexi did the same against him. He shook out the front page.
HEIRESS MARRIES IN STUNNING CEREMONY SURPRISE
Heiress to the Sloan family fortune married a widower from Middletown, New York, in a lavish ceremony Saturday night. A surprise to her father, family and all friends, Jill Sloan, now Jill Sellers, proceeded with what friends termed long-time plans to marry the eligible widower.
“I knew they were together the whole time,” said a friend and former college classmate under anonymity “She just wanted to keep it a secret because people are so nosey.”
Tripp laughed as Lexi did. “This is too funny.”
“I agree,” she said. “Keep reading.”
Jacob Sellers, the owner of a children’s non-profit organization, beamed as he stood at the front of the church and waited for his bride to be, who reflected his own excitement. Sellers’ daughter acted as flower girl, complete with orchids in her hair and basket.
Ten attendants stood on both sides, none of whom would admit the couple hadn’t been together for less than the two speculated weeks.
Said her father: “We Sloans like to keep our secrets, and sometimes that’s necessary in a world where paparazzi and journalists barrage even our weddings.” He excused himself to a private reception, where Mrs. Sellers made note to mention the desserts came from a little-known restaurant in Rune, North Carolina, called Dulces.
“Oh my—we’ve got to get this to Janine.” Lexi started to get out of bed when she heard her sister call up the steps they’d already gotten her a copy, and she leaned back against Tripp. “So, where are we going on our honeymoon?”
“Ever searched for lost treasure?”
“Can’t really say I have, with the exception of this pendant.”
“No, I mean real treasure. There are dozens of wrecks in the reefs around Bermuda and in the Caribbean. I’m thinking it might be a whole lot of fun.” He held out his hand. “You. Me. Think of what we could find.”
She laid her palm on his and, with a smile, entwined their fingers. “I’m in if you are.”
Acknowledgements
My second novel. I’m totally and completely blessed to be able to have written and had a second story published. Better yet … this one! I can’t say enough about or to the folks who’ve been involved, but need to give a few shout-outs to a few, including my early, early readers who took chapter one and fell in love with Tripp Fox from the moment his name showed up. Thank you for the encouragement. To J.A. Belfield, the best friend I’ve never met, thank you for reading this not once but at least three times so far. I know you think Tripp is yours, but I’m pretty darn sure Lexi will fight you for him. To Claire Gillian, thank you, as always, for the encouragement and enthusiasm. To Kris Fullbrook, who has critiqued just about everything I’ve written—humongous thanks. To Babs Griswold, all the way in Mexico, thank you for my big box of commas. I think I used them up. To Holly Almond, thank you for taking the reader’s perspective and going through this baby with a fine-toothed comb. And to the man, the boy, the girl and the other girl, what else is there to say? Thank you. Some say raising a child takes a village. Creating a compelling story more than just the author will love takes a team. Thank you to my team at J. Taylor Publishing for going the extra mile and really making this sto
ry shine.
Aimee Laine
Aimee is a romantic at heart and a southern transplant with a bit of the accent (but not a whole bunch). She’s married to her high school sweetheart, and with him, she’s produced three native North Carolinians, two of whom share the same DNA.
With an MBA and a degree in Applied Mathematics, there’s absolutely no reason she should be writing romance novels. Then again, she shouldn’t need a calculator to add two numbers, either … but she does.
Photo by Brian Mullins Photography
Available Now
September 2012
Table of Contents
Reviews
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Author
Coming Soon