Edges of Gone (The Gone Series Book 2)

by Jessica Gouin

“Babe?” I call out for Sloane just as she appears in the kitchen doorway.

  “You’re home early. How was work today? Better since the fans were fixed, I bet.” She takes a few strides in my direction and wraps her arms around my neck, bringing me into her, surrounding me with her scent. I bury my nose in the crook of her neck and inhale.

  “Work was pretty fucking great today.”

  She pulls back, eyebrows arched. “Wow, I know you love your job and all but that was quite the response.”

  I lean forward and kiss her soft, pouty red lips. “What if I told you that you were married to the new Assistant Service Manager at the garage?”

  Her mouth opens wide, eyes lighting up like fireworks. “No way! Really, a promotion? O, that’s amazing!”

  “I know. Adam pulled me in this afternoon to tell me, jerk made me think I did something wrong then he sprang the news on me. It’s going to be a little bit more work during the day, but it’s more money, and I get to keep the same hours, so I can still walk with Noah to school every morning and be home for dinners every night with my sexy-ass wife.”

  She pulls me in tightly again. “I’m so proud of you, love.”

  Her words burrow their way inside of me and settle. There’s no greater feeling than the love of an incredible woman who’s proud of the man you are.

  “Thank you,” I whisper into her neck.

  “For what?”

  “For bringing me off the edge.”

  When her eyes meet mine, they glisten with happiness. “I’ll always save you. No matter what.”

  “I love you.”

  “I know,” she says with a wink. “Dinner’s going to be a little while if you want to wash up first.”

  After my shower, we sit at our small kitchen table about to start the meal Sloane made for us. Her cooking lately is getting seriously good. I started to set our places at the dining room table where we normally ate with the entire family, but Sloane insisted we sit here instead as it’s cozier, her word, not mine. I’d eat my dinner in a closet if it was with her.

  “So, how was your day? Business still rocking at Revamped?” I open the wine I bought earlier and pour her a glass.

  “You shouldn’t have stopped and bought wine. It’s your celebration, and you don’t even like drinking this stuff.”

  “No, but I like to make you happy. So drink.”

  She stares at the glass then pushes it away from her. “I can’t.”

  I stand from the table and go to the fridge to grab a beer, returning to my seat across from her. “Here, this will be my celebratory drink. Feel better? Now you can have a glass.” I smile, but she doesn’t return the expression. Instead, her face pales.

  “I can’t drink that.”

  “Why not? Did I get the wrong kind? Are you still feeling sick from the other day?”

  “You know you’re a great husband, right? We’ve had some bumps along the way, sure, but we’ve worked through them, and I want you to know I’m lucky to have you. You were a great son, too. Despite the terrible parents you were given.”

  “Sloane…what are you doing?”

  “You’re a great uncle. One that Noah really admires. And you were a great brother. Sawyer was strong, and smart, and honest. She was a good person because of your influence.”

  My eyes sting with her words as the hairs on the back of neck rise.

  “That’s how I know you’re going to be a great dad.”

  “What?”

  She moves her napkin, revealing a white stick that she places beside my plate. I shift my gaze to the stick where two pink lines are painted next to the word pregnant.

  Pregnant?

  I glance at her, then the test, then back to her. Tears stream from in the corners of her eyes then trickle onto her face.

  “I know we used to want children together, and a lot has changed. I’m just hoping you still—”

  Before she has a chance to say another word, I’m out of my chair, pulling her up into my arms. She collapses into my embrace and sobs.

  “I can’t believe this.” I drop to my knees in front of her and press my cheek to her stomach. “There’s a baby inside of you. Our baby is in there.”

  Her fingers glide through my hair, how I missed that feeling. “So, you’re happy we’re having a baby?”

  I stand and hold her face in my hands. “Did you seriously say that? Why would you think I wouldn’t be happy? Babe, I fucking love you.”

  Her chin trembles as she lets out a quick breath. Another round of fresh tears pours down her beautiful face. “I love you so much, Owen. I was so scared… I wasn’t sure what else had changed between us. I know it’s going to be okay now. Our family is going to be okay.”

  I brush back the hairs clinging to her damp cheeks. “Our family is great.”

  “I could get used to the sound of that.”

  Her smile reaches her eyes, and I thumb away the rest of her tears. Bringing her mouth to mine, I kiss her slow and hard, wanting her to not only hear my words, but to feel them deep inside of her.

  Her mouth opens, and I don’t hesitate to sweep my tongue across hers. A moan vibrates my body, and I don’t know if she whimpered or I did. Either way, I’m not hungry for dinner anymore. I have a new hunger coming over me.

  I swing her around, pick her up, and gently place her on the counter. “Is this okay?” I whisper against her neck as I trail kisses along her skin.

  In response, her legs tighten around me, pulling me in so my thickness presses against her most sensitive area.

  Chuckling, I return my mouth to hers. Her fingers reach between us to undo my button and lower the zipper of my jeans. Allowing my pants to drop to the floor, she pushes my briefs down with them.

  She pants and moans in my ear as I bunch her dress around her waist. “Are you fond of these panties?” I ask, rubbing circles on the outside of them.

  “Not particularly,” she breathes, staring at me with lustful eyes.

  In a quick motion, I rip the thin fabric from her skin, thrusting myself into her. Her head dips back as she cries out.

  I still myself, savoring the way she feels around me. Pulling out achingly slow, I push back inside even slower. When she can’t take anymore torture, she wiggles on the counter, and I hold her hips in place.

  Her head tips forward again, and I cup the back of her neck, claiming her mouth again as I move inside of her at the same pace. Sloane claws at my shirt, I reach around back and pull up, removing it. Then I find the zipper on the back of her dress and pull it down, pushing the straps off her shoulders. I’m pleasantly surprised to find she’s not wearing a bra. In an instant I set my mouth on her, causing louder moans and faster thrusting.

  Her legs tighten around me, and I know she’s close to her release.

  “Come with me,” I tell her as she rests her forehead on mine.

  We reach bliss at the same time.

  Slowing down, I attempt to catch my breath. My head drops onto her shoulder.

  She giggles. “Your dinner’s probably cold.”

  “Fuck dinner. That was the best dessert I’ve ever had.”

  Later that night, we’re lying in bed after making love two more times. Both of us know we should be asleep because we have to work in the morning, but neither of us want today to end—the day we found out we’re going to be parents.

  I lazily twist her hair around my finger. “Do you think it’s gonna be a boy or girl?”

  Sloane cuddles into my side, warmth radiating from her, and I wonder if it’s actually coming from my wife or my child. “Honestly, I don’t even care. It would be nice to have our son first so, when our daughter comes along, she’ll have an older brother to watch out for her the way you did with Sawyer. But as long as the baby’s healthy and our home is full of love, the gender is irrelevant.”

  My gaze finds her. “How many babies are you plan on having?”

  “Tons.” She peeks at me, smiling as blush creeps onto her cheeks and crawls to her neck.
/>
  “Tons of babies it is. Will you do something for me in exchange for all these babies?”

  She sits up, holding the sheet across her chest. “There’s pretty much nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for you, Owen.”

  Bringing her hand to my mouth, I grace her palm with a kiss. “Will you marry me again?”

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Sloane

  The last time I stood before a mirror in a wedding dress was thirteen months ago. The first time Owen and I exchanged vows was the night that changed the course of our lives in more ways than we anticipated. It took a long time to find our way back to one another, but, somehow, amidst the chaos, we managed to resuscitate the love we found all those years ago. It was always there I suppose, buried deep inside.

  On the night we found out we were expecting a child, Owen proposed to me again. A new date, new dress, new venue, smaller guest list. He believed our love deserved to have a day of itself, a date not tainted with cruel memories.

  So, we chose a new date.

  We wanted a summer day, and as we’re having an outside ceremony, our chances of having more cooperative weather increase. Of course, the time had to be after our baby was born. Also, we both agreed we needed to wait until Drew’s trial was behind us. Neither of us wanted to enter a marriage with that nightmare still pending. Our marriage needs to be fresh and cleansed from our history.

  A few months after the judge declared Drew fit for a trial, the District Attorney offered him a deal. If he pleaded guilty to first-degree murder, the case wouldn’t go to trial and he would be sentenced to twenty-five years in a state penitentiary. His only other option was letting the case go to trial and chance being convicted of the charge and risk receiving a harsher sentence.

  Owen, Lachlan, and I had countless discussions about the offer presented to Drew. The prosecutor assured all of us this would save the emotional toll a lengthy trial could have on our family. He also informed us there could be a minor possibility Drew could get off entirely at the end of the trial.

  If it were up to me, I would have chosen to see that bastard receive the death penalty for what he did to Sawyer. What he did to all of us. Unfortunately, I’m not the judge, jury, or executioner, so I’ll settle on knowing he won’t see the outside of prison walls until he’s nearly sixty.

  The day Drew accepted the plea deal and was hauled off to rot in a prison cell, we celebrated having a small part of our life back. It was a relief to know he would be suffering long days behind bars. With any luck, someone inside will learn he murdered a mother in front of her child and that someone won’t like it very much. He’d make a great girlfriend for a large man.

  With that fragment of our lives concluded, we focused on our future and haven’t looked back since.

  But we always remember.

  Especially when June 18th arrives.

  It’s supposed to be our one year wedding anniversary. Instead, it’s the day we remember Sawyer Matthews. Owen, Lachlan, Noah, and I spend a little bit of time at the cemetery, putting fresh flowers on the ground just below her name. Afterward, the boys plant a tree in Lachlan and Noah’s new backyard in remembrance of the woman that made them a family. Although Sawyer never set foot inside the house, she’s very much present. The quilt I made for Noah from all his baby clothes and gave to him last Christmas hangs over the back of the couch. Pictures of Sawyer at our wedding and the one from her funeral grace the mantel. Lachlan even kept a few décor pieces from the old house so Noah would feel more at home when they first moved in nearly one year ago.

  Sawyer’s day was beautiful. Then my water breaks after dinner.

  We rush to the hospital, and a few short, but very painful, hours later just before midnight, we’re blessed with a perfectly healthy, gorgeous baby girl.

  Sawyer Chloe Matthews.

  Exactly one year after her death, Sawyer’s namesake is born, just as she was a namesake to her grandmother.

  For the last four weeks, baby Yuri—a nickname given by Noah—has had everyone wrapped around her chubby, tiny, pink finger. I read in one of the dozen baby books Owen bought when a baby is held all the time, he or she tends to have more difficulty sleeping on their own. Since we brought Yuri home from the hospital, I don’t think she’s been placed down once. Despite that, she’s a wonderful sleeper. We are so blessed to have such a great baby. I might be biased because I’m her momma, but Yuri is quite possibly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on. Her aunt is most definitely a huge part of her. Yuri even has Sawyer’s big blue eyes, coupled with my red hair on her head. She’s going to grow into a stunning young woman.

  One day soon, it will be her day to stand in front of a full-length mirror, admiring herself in an extravagant white dress. Too soon that day will come—that is if Daddy ever lets her date, which I highly doubt. I actually feel a little bad for any boy wishing to take our daughter out.

  “Put the veil on. Then you’ll really get a feel for the dress.” My mom holds up what resembles a big ball of tulle.

  “Mom, I told you I don’t want to wear a veil. It’s not going to be like it was last time. Owen and I don’t want anything too flashy. Just the two of us surrounded by the people we love.”

  Chloe joins us, Yuri swaddled tightly in her arms. “Sloane, that dress is stunning. It’s perfect, really.”

  I rotate slightly and glance at my reflection over my shoulder to look at the back of the dress. The cut is low, down the middle to my lower back. Aside from the sexy scoop, the rest of the dress is somewhat plain. I love that about it.

  Immy takes my hair in her hands, twisting and pulling in various directions. “You should gather it all to the side, bunch it here, then have pieces pulled out to frame your face. Like this only a bit neater, but not too stiff, it’s more romantic with the wisps.”

  “It’s a real good thing you’re doing my hair and makeup that day. Sounds like you know what you want.”

  Immy shrugs, taking a sip of her complimentary champagne. “It’s kinda my thing. I’m always watching YouTube tutorials about different hairstyles.”

  Why does that not surprise me?

  “I sincerely hope you’re not watching those videos while you’re at your places of work.” Chloe teases her.

  “No, ma’am, of course, I’m not.”

  Chloe bumps her shoulders gently against Immy’s, and we giggle.

  The front door of the store opens, and a blonde tornado enters. “Oh goodness, I’m so sorry. I’m running late. You wouldn’t believe the traffic getting here.” Lachlan’s Aunt Claire rushes through the boutique and stops just shy of me standing on the platform. “Sloane…wow. You’re simply stunning. A true classic beauty.”

  I open my arms, and she doesn’t hesitate to embrace me in a hug. “Thanks for coming, Claire.”

  She’s been coming to visit at least twice a month since she surprised me at Revamped. She was right after all. In the end, all we have is family. No matter how big or small, where you acquire them from, or if the share your DNA. Family is family.

  I shift my gaze from Claire to my mother, who holds her only grandbaby, to Immy and Chloe. These women are my family, through thick and thin, hell or high water, and whatever other cliché phrases I can think of, they’re it.

  Claire wiggles her fingers as my mom passes Yuri over and excuses herself from the room.

  The middle-aged consultant approaches with a grin on her face, removing her eyeglasses from her face and placing them in her auburn hair. “Well, I’ve been in this business long enough to know a winner when I see one. That dress was simply made for you.”

  With one more glance in the mirror, I return the smile. “I think you might just be right about that. Ring me up, please.” My words set off squeals, their enthusiasm is contagious.

  “All right, well, it looks like I now have my something new.”

  I turn at the sound of a throat clearing. My mom and Claire wheel a lacey, white bassinet toward me.

  “What’s this
?”

  “This”—my mom runs her fingers over the fabric—“is your something old and something blue.”

  Gathering the bottoms of the dress in my hands so I can step off the platform, I walk toward them. I immediately recognize the pattern of the fabric, and my hand flies to my mouth, covering a sob. “My old wedding dress… How did you even…?”

  My mom squeezes my shoulders, Claire passes me a tissue. “It was Owen’s idea. He came across this when he’d been storing some of the baby’s things in the basement. About a week or so before this little angel was born.”

  I release the rest of the bottom of my dress to touch the material. “I remember that day. He told me he didn’t want this dress in the house anymore. Thought it was bad juju since I’d be getting a new one. It was all burnt and stained. I don’t understand how, though…”

  “It wasn’t all destroyed. Parts of it were salvageable, and we were able to work with what we had to make it beautiful again. Just as you and Owen did for your marriage.”

  Tears flow freely now.

  Claire dabs her eyes. “I know a few highly skilled seamstresses from the Country Club. Your mom had them weaved in a bit of blue ribbon to commemorate your day, though.”

  “This is your wedding gift, my dear. From your family. To always remember that what seems like it might be destroyed, might still turn into beauty. It’s all in the way you look at it and the way you handle the tough times.”

  The only sounds heard are sniffles as I’m rendered speechless. Even other brides and consultants are watching, dabbing tears. If only they knew the entire story behind this dress and the meaning of what a gift I’d just been given.

  “Oh my god, you guys seriously know how to make a girl cry,” Immy remarks as she tosses back the rest of her champagne.

  Taking Yuri from Claire, I place her in her new bassinet that will reside in my bedroom until she outgrows it. Watching her innocence, surrounded by memories of that night, I shake with mixed emotions.

  “I can’t thank you all enough. You have no idea what this means to me. Owen is going to be so thrilled. Has he seen it yet?”