by Jay McLean
When she was done, she stood in the middle of the store and turned a full circle. "I can't believe it," she said. "This is all mine."
Tom rubbed his hand across his beard. "Well, not all of it," he mumbled. "Follow me."
Luce held my hand as we followed him up the creaky stairs in the back office of the store. It led to an empty, open room. In the middle were a table, three chairs, and a lamp.
"Are we being interrogated?" she joked. I'm glad she found it funny, because even though I've known Tom seven years, he still scares the shit out of me.
"What do you think?" he asked, ignoring her question.
"Think of what?" she said.
He nodded his head at the two chairs opposite where he was now seated. "I figure this can be the new office space for Preston and Sons."
"So you'll be working here, too?" she asked.
I pulled out her chair before sitting down next to her.
Tom smiled and waited until I was seated. "I tried to think of some names," he started, ignoring her again. "Preston and Sons and Gordon, or Preston, Gordon and Sons, but that seemed—"
"What?" I finally managed to ask. "Gordon? Me?"
"Us!" Lucy snapped. "I'm a Gordon too!"
"I know, babe." I cleared my thoughts and looked back at Tom. "I don't understand."
He didn't reply. He just pushed over more papers until they were under my nose. It was a partnership agreement to his business. "What?"
"If you want to change the name we can speak—"
I shook my head. "The name's fine, I guess, I'm just confused."
"I'd like to make you partner," he deadpanned. "You take the design part, I'll take the construction. We can work together. Though, this will be your office space, I'll be on site most of the time. Plus, I love you like a son, don't get me wrong, but you and my daughter can't keep your hands off each other; I don't want to be surrounded by that all day."
Lucy laughed.
I couldn't find it in me to do anything but stare at him.
"So?" he asked, waiting for my response.
"No."
"What?" Lucy whined.
I turned to her. "I haven't earned it, Luce."
She scoffed and rolled her eyes.
Tom chuckled. "I'll give you a minute."
Lucy watched him walk down the stairs and when we were alone, she turned to me. "Cameron..." she started. Her shoulders dropped with her sigh. "I hate bringing this up, but this attitude of yours, this pride thing you have going, it almost ruined us once. I know that you feel like you haven't earned it, but you have, and my dad wouldn't be doing this if he didn't trust you. If he didn't believe in you like he has from day one. And this way... it means we get to be together every day, we'll never have to be apart. Isn't that what we've always wanted?"
Tom and I shook hands when I handed him back the signed papers.
The next day, we got to work.
That was a few months ago.
Yesterday, we finally completed it exactly the way she wanted.
*
"Your girlfriend’s here," I tell Logan, who's sitting next to me in the dugout.
He nudges me with his elbow. "Your wife's here."
We watch as they both get out of Lucy's car and sit on the hood, watching our baseball game.
"We suck," I say, picking up my gear bag and walking out. Someone shouts at us about the game not being over, but we don't care.
"We can't all be Jake Andrews," he muses.
"That punk deleted me on Facebook."
"That punk deleted his entire Facebook. He's too famous now. He was getting all these random requests and posts on his wall. Amanda said that Micky made him delete it after the fifth nude selfie he got."
I laugh. "Poor bastard."
Lucy's squeal gets my attention, and then I watch as her head throws back, her laughter loud and carefree. Amanda snorts next to her, making Lucy laugh even harder.
"What the hell are you two up to?" Logan says as we stop in front of them.
I wait until Lucy settles before pulling on her legs so I'm standing between them.
Amanda shoves my shoulder. "Waddup, Deskfucker?"
-LUCY-
Cameron stops in his tracks, shirtless, with the towel half lifted to his hair. He drops his hands and eyes me curiously. "You're cooking?"
I nod, trying to hide my smile. "How was your shower, husband?"
He ignores my question and stands next to me, sniffing the bowl of salad I just made. "Are you okay?"
"Yup! I made a pasta bake, it's all I can really do for now, but I'm learning."
He opens the oven and sniffs again. "I don't expect you to cook, babe."
"I know." I shrug. "But I wanted to."
"Huh." He stands on the opposite side of the counter and leans on his elbows. "Did you cheat on me?"
"WHAT!"
He doesn't flinch. "I don't know, Luce. It just seems weird. You're cooking, and the bathroom's all clean, and you've packed away the pile of books at the foot of the bed. I figure you've done something wrong and you think that cleaning and cooking might make it easier for me to forgive you. That, or your e-reader's broken. You want me to go out and buy you a new one?"
I scoff. "I sell e-readers at my store, and no I didn't cheat, or do anything wrong." I shrug. "I just wanted to be wifey today."
He laughs. "You were wifey enough last night when you let me blow—"
"CAM!"
"Seriously, Luce, what's going on?"
I pull out plates from the cupboard and start loading on the salad. "Put a shirt on, let's eat out on the dock."
*
"Is it nice?" I ask, trying to supress my laugh.
He finishes chewing, eyeing me sideways the way he has been since he got out of the shower. He nods slowly, and then sniffs his plate.
"I'm not trying to poison you!" I chuckle.
"You're confusing me, Luce! I don't know what's happening."
I don't respond.
"And you're being evasive!"
"The sun's about to set."
He grunts in frustration, but doesn't respond. I pull out a beer from the cooler and hand it to him.
He throws it in the lake.
I laugh.
"Who is he?" he asks.
"Who's who?"
"This guy you're cheating with?"
I laugh so hard my sides hurt. He starts to stand but I pull on his arm to sit him back down. "You're being an idiot."
He crosses his arms and looks away. "I don't care."
"Babe," I get on my hands and knees and kiss him softly. After a minute, he begins to relax. "I heard from the doctor today," I say against his lips.
He pulls back, the color of his normally dark eyes matching the orange of the sunset. "And?"
"And they said we could start the IVF treatment as soon as possible. They want us to come in on Monday so they can go through the steps with us."
He looks away and blows out a shaky breath.
"Cam?"
He sniffs once, his eyes glazed when they focus back on me. "So we're really going to do it? Are you sure, Luce, because I don't want you to do this for me. I want to make sure that you want it, too."
"Of course I want it." My words are strained but I continue, "I could live a thousand years with just you and me, and it wouldn't be enough. But what we have, the love we share, it's more than enough to go around. If IVF doesn't work, we can adopt, we have options." I sit across his lap and look out to the lake.
He leans his head on my shoulder.
My fingers reach up and twist his hair.
"Are you sure?" he whispers.
"It’s not fair to the world to limit your love to me alone. Your heart's too big, Cameron."
He looks past me, and to the sun, now half hidden by the water.
"I love you, Luce," he whispers. And it doesn't matter how many times he says it, the words have never lost their meaning. And they never will. Because it's more than just words spoken, it
's his arms around me when I feel like I'm falling. It's his lips on mine, kissing away the pain. It's our hands holding as he leads me into the water to let me break. It's us—chest to chest—helping each other heal. It's us—giving each other Hope.
I turn to him now, letting the sun set behind me. "Forever, Cameron. I love you, forever."
THE END
MORE THAN ENOUGH
COMING MID. 2015
If I told you to jump, would you ask how high? Or would you just jump? If there were no reason behind it, would you still take the leap? What if I told you that at the end, there would be nothing? What if you made a splash on the world and lived in an eternal state of floating? Would you make waves? What if you couldn't float? What if air lost the battle, and you lost the war? Would you want to know what was on the other side? Would you care? Or would you just jump... because I was the one that asked you?
COMBATIVE
COMING SOON
I flex my fingers, watching the dried blood shift around my knuckles. Right now, I should be at home icing the shit out of them. But I'm not. Instead, I'm in a tiny room with nothing but a table and two chairs. I don't know how the fuck I got into this mess. Actually, I do, but the asshole was talking shit and I had no choice.
That's a lie.
There was a choice.
I made mine, and I ended up here.
I should have destroyed him.
The door swings open and a suit walks in. His back is turned, talking heatedly with someone on the other side of the door. "I'll handle it," he says, before shutting the door and then... nothing. He just stands there staring at the closed door. His shoulders heave once, his head moving from side to side. And then slowly, he turns.
The corner of my lips lift, but they drop when I see him jerk his head. The action's so slight that if I weren't focused on him, I would've missed it. His gaze shifts to the security camera in the corner of the room. It's a split second movement, but one I understand. He rolls up the sleeves on his crisp, white shirt and takes the only seat available on the opposite side of the table. Resting on his forearms, he leans forward. "Parker."
I smirk. "Detective."
His features falter for a moment, but only a moment before his mask is back in place. He looks down at the open folder in front of him, his eyes scanning the page from side to side, then he lifts his gaze. "Ky Parker?" It comes out a question, but he already knows who I am.
THE ROAD
COMING JANUARY 2015
You know how sometimes you can tell that something is about to happen, even though there are no physical signs? Like when the hair on the back of your neck stands up, or your palms begin to sweat, or butterflies form in your stomach? Like the beating of your heart thumps faster, harder—and even though you're looking down at the floor of the familiar hallways of high school—you know that when you lift your gaze, something's going to change. And then you look up—and the beating of your heart stops for a split second. The boy with the messy dark hair and the piercing blue eyes is watching you—a hint of a smile on his beautiful face that's enough to kick your heart back into gear. But then he turns around and walks away—not for him—but for you. Because he knows that is what you want, and you know that he only wants you to be happy.
Blake Hunter—he was my change.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jay McLean is the author of the More Series, including More Than This, More Than Her, More Than Him and soon to be released, More Than Forever. She also has two standalones coming soon titled The Road, and Combative.
Jay is an avid reader, writer, and most of all, procrastinator. When she's not doing any of those things, she can be found running after her two little boys, or devouring some tacky reality TV show.
She writes what she loves to read, which are books that can make her laugh, make her smile, make her hurt, and make her feel.
You can follow Jay on Instagram and twitter @jaymcleanauthor. You can also find her on her blog at www.jaymcleanauthor.com where you can subscribe to her newsletter and get teasers and updates first hand, her Facebook page at www.facebook.com/jaymcleanauthor or her fan group on Facebook at www.facebook.com/groups/moreserieslovers, or you can contact Jay directly at [email protected]
All her other social media links can be found below.
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/jaymcleanauthor/
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Goodreads:https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4724550.Jay_McLean
For publishing rights (Foreign & Domestic) Film, or television, please contact her agent, Erica Spellman-Silverman, at Trident Media Group.