“Hey husband.” It’s cheesy and I wonder how long we’ll go on calling each other by titles instead of names, but I’ll let it slide when it makes him this happy.
When we get back into our bed, my head resting on his beautifully tattooed chest again, we lay together watching the sun rise through the window. Light fills the room and my heart.
I’m not foolish enough to think that things will always be easy, that we’ll always be perfect. We’ve still got mountains to climb, college to graduate, jobs to work. But as we bask in the light of the rising sun together, I know that Reid will always be my perfectly imperfect happily ever after.
The End
Acknowledgements
There are so many people who helped make Let Love Stay possible. I would be no where without the love and support of my family. My husband, James, is my rock—and my soft place to fall. Thank you so much for every single motivating word, complimentary remark, and gentle nudge of encouragement.
I owe a huge thank you to an amazing group of Indie Authors—you all know who you are. Saoching, Michele, Ana, Chelle, Suzanne and Antoinette—you’re all amazing and I’m so proud to be a part of this little family we’ve got going on. To our fearless ninja leader, Jennifer Short, thank you so much for, well, for everything.
To my amazing beta readers—Kristy Bruno, Chelsea Camaron, Kim Rinaldi, Jennifer Mirabelli, Nicole LoCrichhio, Mollie Minard, Kimberly Shepherd, Katie Lock, Emily Hightower, Jennifer Diaz, Pam Schaeffer, Laurna Hamilton and Jennifer Benson—thank you so very much for becoming invested in my characters and my books. Your feedback is hugely invaluable and I can’t wait to work with you on future novels.
To my good friend and fellow author, Carey Heywood. I can’t say thank you enough for all of your support. I’m so lucky to have developed such an amazing friendship with you. Thank you for everything. I can’t wait to stalk our books for many more years to come.
I have a distinct feeling that no one would even know who I am without the tremendous support of the blogs that have promoted me and spread the word about my books. Debra from Book Enthusiast Promotions, Mindy, from Talkbooks, Dani from Just Booked, Katie from Bookaholics Blog, Emily from Rate my Romance, and so many more—thank you so much for everything you’ve done. You’re such a huge support system.
Lastly, thank you so much to all of my readers. Your comments, notes of encouragement (and yes, even the “are you kidding me” comments from the end of Let Love In) really do make my day. I absolutely love interacting with you and I am so thrilled that you are enjoying my work. Thank you for everything.
Future Projects:
Let Love Heal, Melanie’s story, will be the next book in The Love Series. I am hoping to have this out in the late fall of 2013. And yes, Lia, Logan, Cammie and Jack—and even Dylan- will all have their own books as well. I am also working on a standalone, From The Wreckage, which is a contemporary romance. This novel should hopefully be out in late 2013 / early 2014. Be sure to get all the updates by following me.
Let Love Heal Table of Contents
Master Table of Contents
Let Love In
Let Love Stay
Let Love Heal
Part One
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Part Two
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Part Three
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Let Love Shine
Let Love Be
Let Love Live
Other Works
Social Media Links
Dedication
For those who need a reminder, every now and then, that beautiful does not mean perfect.
Prologue
September 30, 1995
The I-beam swings haphazardly in the clouds. Teetering and tottering in the crystal-blue sky, it’s the perfect juxtaposition of artificial and natural—steel illuminated by the sun. Over a ton of metal effortlessly cascades through the air on the whim of a crane. It almost looks like a graceful ballet dancer as it swirls and twists, dips and dives. It’s mesmerizing, actually.
And then disaster strikes.
A deafening crack of a snapped chain sounds through the once peaceful air. The lively chatter of construction workers and architects instantly morphs into chaotic screams. Everyone runs, seeking cover from the impending doom.
As the massive beam plummets to the ground, people scramble, frantically grabbing others along the way to pull them to safety. It all happens so quickly. In the blink of an eye, it seems as if everyone will escape unscathed.
Until they don’t.
The beam changes direction, up-ending itself. Head architect, James Crane, exits the shell of the building. Hardhat on and earplugs in, he’s always one to follow procedure to make sure that his work site is safe. His eyes are pulled away from the clipboard of today’s itinerary as the shadow of a passing figure flashes before him.
His eyes are drawn skyward. The sun blinds him; his sunglasses are tucked into his front pocket rather than perched across his nose. He doesn’t have a second to process anything.
Crushed beneath the massive weight of the steel beam, the last thought that passes through the mind of Jimmy Crane, is of his wife, Lucy and his unborn daughter.
Lucy Crane is consumed with decorating the freshly painted nursery. If ever there was a woman more excited to meet her first child, well, Lucy’s jubilance would put her to shame. Purple frills and pink lace don every surface of the room. It’s a princess’ heaven and a mom-to-be’s dream come true.
Lucy sits on the floor, sorting through baby gifts from her shower last weekend. Holding a glittery onesie with an attached pink tutu up against her eight-and-a-half-month pregnant belly, she whispers quietly to her unborn daughter, “Maybe one day you’ll be a ballerina . . . Melody.” She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and taps a finger against her lip as she contemplates one of her husband’s, James’ top name choices. “Hmm, no that just doesn’t sound right.” Still going through baby names, Lucy and Jimmy haven’t been able to find one upon which they both agree.
Last night, as they laid in bed, they settled on a short list of names that they each liked. Lucy was leaning toward more trendy names—Jessica, Ashley or Emily. James, on the other hand, wanted his daughter to have a less popular name; she was one of a kind, after all. Well, how could Lucy argue with that? From the moment she’d told her husband of less than a year that she was pregnant, he had absolutely radiated with love and joy. Conceding on his name preference was a small way that she could repay him for how he’s taken care of her through the entire pregnancy.
They’d been high school sweethearts and in the seven years that they’d been together, they’d shared a lifetime’s worth of love. When James would place his lips up against Lucy’s swollen belly, and talk to their child, she could swear that her heart would burst at the overly full feeling of love.
On a mission to finish her sorting all of the baby clothes, Lucy snaps out of her happy musings of her husband and their baby. But when she comes across a purple sequined outfit, she can’t help put place it across her belly and talk to her daughter once more. “This is going to look absolutely perfect on you . . . Melanie.”
The name rolls off her tongue and sings to her heart. It was one of Jimmy’s first suggestions, liking “M” names more than any other. Lucy had originally dismissed it, but now, sitting quietly in her soon-to-be-born daughter’s room, the name seems to fit perfectly. Smiling broadly, she says the name once more, “Melanie.” Rubbing her belly, Lucy talks to the kicking baby who is rolling ar
ound inside of her. “Do you like that name, little Miss Melanie.” Another kick and roll. “Well then, we’ll just have to ask Daddy what he thinks when he gets home.” Another kick widens Lucy’s bright smile. “Okay now, Melly Belly.” Lucy chuckles softly at the ridiculous nickname she’s just given her daughter. A smile spreads across her face because she knows that James will be pleased with her sudden turn around on his top name choice.
With numb and wobbly legs, Lucy stands to put the piles of clothes away when she hears a knock at the door. Checking her watch, she realizes that it’s past four in the afternoon. She’s been so lost in her baby daydreams that she didn’t realize that she hadn’t heard from James all day. Knowing that he is extremely busy trying to manage this massive project, she immediately dismisses her concerns. No phone calls during the day means that he is guaranteed to chew her ear off at dinner. The man loves his building, that’s for sure.
Brushing her hands over her trendy and modern dark-blue maternity shirt, Lucy flattens out the wrinkles that set in as she was draping onesie after onesie across her belly.
As she peeks through the curtain that hangs across the top window of the door, she smiles cheerfully at her husband’s best friend and co-owner of Crane Building Associates, Ray Richards.
“Hey, Ray. What’s going on?” Lucy steps to the side allowing Ray to enter into the small foyer. Closing the door behind him, she continues talking. “Jimmy isn’t home from work yet, but come on in. Can I get you a beer?” Lucy’s bright voice does nothing to lighten the darkness that is cast over Ray’s face.
Ray shakes his head, declining the beer. He looks into Lucy’s bright blue eyes, and says, “We need to talk, Lucy.” His voice is even and curt. Ignoring her stunned reaction to his cold demeanor, Ray walks past Lucy into the sunken den of his best friend’s new home—a home to which he’ll never return.
Ray sinks into the old, beat-up couch and memories flood his head and heart. This is the couch that they had in their first apartment. It was a rat-hole of a place, but somehow Ray and Jimmy managed to make it work. The couch is a hand-me-down from Jimmy’s parents and has survived remarkably well through their college years.
Burying his head into his hands, Ray can no longer contain the sobs that have been threatening to swallow him whole since he pulled in the freshly-paved driveway.
Lucy waddles over to the couch and, not-so-gracefully, lowers herself onto the cushions. Tenderly wrapping her arm around his broad shoulders, she says, “What’s wrong, Ray? I’m getting a little worried here.”
It’s not unusual for Ray to stop over, but usually Jimmy is there getting ready for a golf outing or a ball game. There’s something about this particular visit that just feels . . . wrong.
Her concern only makes him cry more. He’s crying for the loss of his best friend. He’s crying for Lucy, who he’s come to love as his own best friend through the years. He’s crying for the baby that Jimmy will never get to meet—for the baby that Lucy will now have to raise on her own.
Twisting in his seat, he faces Lucy and wipes the tears from his eyes. Lucy’s face pales as all of the blood rushes from it. She can tell that this is not a routine visit on Ray’s part.
“Lucy . . .” Ray’s words catch in his throat, stuck behind the ball of emotion that’s been lodged there since he witnessed his best friend being crushed by tons of steel.
Lucy covers her mouth with her hands, but her gasp is still audible. “No, no, no, no . . .” It’s the only syllable her brain can manage. She’s shaking her head wildly as if it will keep away the horrific news that is so clearly etched across Ray’s tanned and youthful face.
Ray wraps his arm around her slumped shoulders and pulls Lucy into a tight squeeze. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. There was an accident and . . . it’s Jimmy. He’s gone, Lucy.”
With those words, her world changes instantly. No longer able to contain her anguish, her chest heaves in sobs as tears pour from her eyes.
How? Why? What? All of these questions swarm her brain, but the bottom line is that none of it matters. Bits of Ray’s strained explanation filter into her consciousness, but she can’t make any sense of it. Something about a beam, about being in the wrong place at the wrong time, about wanting to come here to tell her himself, about not wanting her to have to drive to the coroner’s office alone, it’s all a garbled mess, because none of it is important. The only meaningful piece of information is that Jimmy, her Jimmy, the love of her life, is gone.
Visions that she will never be able to erase start filling her mind. In a vain attempt to escape them, Lucy shoots up from the couch and begins frantically pacing the room. But she’s too weak to stand for long. As pain, anguish and loss eat her alive, she crumples to the floor and wraps her arms around her round belly. Again, the only words she can form are, “No, no, no . . .”
Unable to let her suffer alone, Ray moves next to her on the floor and pulls her into his arms. Cooing softly to her, he tries to calm her. It’s a vain attempt at peace that will never come.
It’s always been Jimmy. He was her first friend, her first love, and now he’s her first true loss.
Calling on an inner strength that she doesn’t truly feel, Lucy tries to stand, but her body rejects the attempt. All she can do is let the sadness swallow her whole, and hope that when it spits her back out, she’ll be alive and whole enough to take care of Melanie.
Chapter 1
Thursday, January 24, 2013
A vast empire of evergreens flashes past my window. A light dusting of snow coats the road, leaving only two clearly defined, black tire tracks in the wake of the passing cars. The sunlight barely breaks through the hazy greyness of the clouds. There’s a dull, lifelessness pervading not only the scenery, but my mood as well, and I know it’s because so much has changed in my life in the last few months.
Chipper as ever, Mom’s voice breaks my silent sadness. “Hey, sweetie pie. Are you awake over there?” She playfully nudges my shoulder to try and rouse me from my feigned sleep. I’ve been turned away from her, staring blankly out of the window for most of the short trip back to Ithaca.
Twisting in my seat to face her, I respond, much more dully than her happy tone. “Yeah, I’m awake, just tired, I guess.” My flat voice and lame shoulder shrug mirror the oppressive feel of the grey sky hanging above us.
She doesn’t say anything more; she just offers up a half smile and then returns her attention to the road. Mom knows I’m in a funk. There’s no way she can’t know. It’s creepy sometimes how she’s so attuned to what I’m feeling or thinking. It’s like she’s in my brain or something. Kind of freaks me out a bit, but she’s my mom and it’s always been just us, so I guess it’s understandable.
My dad died before I was born—some freak accident. I try not to think of it and most days I succeed on that front. I won’t lie, though. The stress of being the only person of real importance in my mom’s life has taken its toll on me. I hide it well, or at least I think I do.
Seeking more distraction from an inevitable line of questioning from Mom, I fidget with the radio and leave it on some current top 40 hit. Mom taps away on the steering wheel while she sings, off-key, to the music playing through the speakers. I just let it drown out the thoughts racing through my mind. Turning away from her again, I return to my post at the window and watch the world pass me by.
Alone. Empty. Sad. That’s how I’m feeling. Knowing that Maddy’s not here and she’s not going to be coming back, makes my eyes burn with unshed tears. Maddy and I have been best friends since middle school; I met her a few years after her parents died. Hell, we even ended up living together for a few months in our senior year when her aunt passed away suddenly. For the last five years, Maddy and I were inseparable. We even had to beg the housing department to let us dorm together when we started college last semester.
Her world shifted when she met Reid and they both fell head over heels in love with each other. After she found out she was pregnant, yeah, that was a
shocker for everyone, she decided to withdraw from Ithaca and go to a school closer to home. I can’t blame her for choosing to move in with Reid. She’s got her own life now—one of which I’m no longer a part. Even though I’m happy for her, my heart still hurts that she’s not going to be with me every day.
Cammie and Lia, my other two roommates, aren’t here either. They won’t be here until at least Saturday morning—great grandma’s birthday party or something like that. Honestly, with everything that’s been going on, I haven’t paid much attention to everyone else’s life. I mean, I couldn’t be happier that Maddy and Reid are back together and that things worked out for them, but I can’t help but focus, almost to the point of making myself sick, on what’s going to happen with me and Bryan.
Our relationship, or lack thereof for the last month, has been a huge source of distress and emptiness. I have this feeling in the pit of my stomach that when he gets back to school, Bryan is going to break up with me. He’s seeing Courtney again; I know it. Well, okay, I don’t know it, but I have my suspicions. He barely called me over the entire winter break. Come to think of it, he hardly ever texted or emailed me either.
Except for that one text.
I mean, come on, Bryan is always on the computer. Being a computer science major should mean that you’re permanently attached to the thing, right? Or that you’re at least part robot or something like that. He couldn’t get in touch with me once? We talked, don’t get me wrong, but I was always the one who initiated it.
I was supposed to go visit him for New Year’s Eve, but when I told him about my plans, he said it wouldn’t be a good idea for me to come. Then I got the text. Bryan and Courtney lip-locked at some party. It was pretty clear at that point that he had moved on.
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