by Ann, Jewel
“He’s leaving for Milwaukee on Saturday. And he’s a liar. And …”
Sydney grins. “He’s your baby daddy.”
I roll over, putting Sydney at my back so she doesn’t see my tears. But my body shakes with emotion.
“Ave … no …” The bed dips again as she crawls in next to me and hugs my back. “A baby, Ave. You could be having the one thing you didn’t think you’d have. And I know you want this. I’ve seen you with Ocean and Asher. You are so good with them. You have so much love to give.”
The nausea. The fear. The feeling of complete failure.
“I’m not married … and I don’t even have my own place to live. And I don’t h-have a g-good job … The timing is all w-wrong.”
“No. Nope. No way … You cannot talk to me about bad timing. Hello? You’re talking to the queen of bad timing. But, in case you haven’t noticed, my life is perfection. All the bad timing, all the pain, all the missed opportunities … they led me to here.”
I stare at the gray-blue wall while my sister hugs me.
A baby.
“Give me those sticks.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Jake
She doesn’t call or text. Part of me feels like I should try harder to make things right with her, but a bigger part of me feels like she needs space. It’s what brought her to my place the other night. I have to believe it will bring her to me again.
Maybe not today.
Maybe not even in a few weeks.
But … eventually.
I will wait. I’ll wait forever.
“When should we expect you again?” Seth asks as I close the tailgate to my truck, relishing the last day of balmy salt air as the sun stretches over the horizon.
“Hard to say. Couple weeks? Couple months?”
He chuckles. “What’s that supposed to mean? Why would you be back in just weeks? To check up on Aspen. She’s definitely worth checking up on.” He winks.
I give him a lifted brow. “Behave.”
He salutes me. “Would your indecisiveness have anything to do with her?” He nods to something over my shoulder.
It’s Avery pulling in next to my truck.
“Safe trip, man.” Seth pats me on the shoulder before heading back around to the cafe.
She came to say goodbye. That’s something. I think …
Slipping my hands in my front pockets to keep them from grabbing her and kissing her into submission, I make my way to her car as she gets out. Of course she looks amazing in her fancy jeans, silver flats, and pink zipped hoodie. No makeup, maybe just some gloss on her lips.
I’m dying. How the hell do I leave her?
“Hi.” I smile.
She shuts the door and shoves her hands into the pockets of her hoodie, shoulders high, chin tipped down. “Hi.”
“I was just getting ready to pull out. Good timing. I’m surprised you’re out of bed.”
She glances up at me, wearing something between a smile and a cringe. This isn’t good. I don’t like that look. It’s the nice-knowing-ya look.
“I figured you’d leave early, and I didn’t want to miss you because …” She draws in a slow breath.
My chest aches. She’s telling me goodbye, but not a for-now goodbye. A forever goodbye.
“There are words to be said before you go.”
“Words …” I echo her, trying to mask my defeat, trying to pretend that I don’t know exactly what she’s going to say. I shouldn’t have lied about Mo. It was impulsive and risky. I just needed to know if I mattered to her anymore. I needed to see if there was even a twitch of jealousy.
“Just your words? Do my words no longer matter?” Tension bleeds into my voice. I can’t help it. I can’t hide my desperation.
“Nope.” She shakes her head, staring at her feet. “Your words don’t matter. My words are the only words that matter. They are the final words. And you can choose to accept them or not, but it changes nothing.”
“Jesus, Ave …” I step closer, unable to stop my hands from grabbing her face, forcing her to look at me as I rest my forehead on hers. “Don’t do this.”
“I have to,” she whispers, reaching for the zipper to her hoodie, pulling it down slowly.
What is she doing?
I pull away just enough to see her better.
Fuck me …
She keeps her gaze down as I read her white T-shirt with black lettering.
Congratulations, you knocked me up.
Baby feet are stamped on the belly of the shirt.
Teary blue eyes glance up at me. “I’m sorry.” Her bottom lip quivers. “I know what you’re going to say. We should have—”
“Shut up.”
She swallows hard, blinking once to release the tears. I hate the fear in her eyes.
“This …” Emotions strangle my words. “This day. This. Very. Moment …” I thread my fingers through her hair, forcing her to look at me with her tear-drenched face. “It’s the greatest moment of my life.”
“I’m scared,” she whispers.
I kiss the tears from her cheeks. I kiss her forehead. Then I kiss her lips. “I’m not, Ave. I’m not scared. I’m relieved. I’m tired of running from the demons. I’m tired of chasing something I can’t see. For the first time in so many years … I can breathe.”
Her arms slide around my neck, and her body melts into mine, her face in my neck. I lift her off the ground, her legs wrap around my waist.
“I love you,” she says on a long sigh.
Yeah, definitely the greatest moment of my life. She’s never said those exact words to me. I don’t think she probably realizes it. I’ve felt her love in a touch, an innocent smile, a tiny glance, but not until this moment has she said the actual words.
Avery Montgomery has finally given herself permission to love me. All of me. All of us.
“What are you doing?” She looks up as I open the passenger door to the truck.
“Getting you fastened in.” I set her in the seat.
“Where are we going?”
I latch her seat belt and bend down. Pulling up the front of her shirt, I press my lips to her flat belly. “Milwaukee.”
“What? No. I can’t go with you. I have a job. I live here. My sister is here. I need to—”
“Shh …” I grin, keeping my lips pressed to her stomach. “We’ll return later.”
“You’ll return. I need to stay here.” The panic in her voice escalates.
Lifting my head, I rest my hand on her leg, giving it a light squeeze as I nuzzle into her neck.
Her fingers slide into my hair. “Jake …”
“Ave … do you know what I need?”
“What?” she whispers with slight resignation in her reply.
“You. That’s it. So can you do me a tiny favor?” I kiss her neck one last time and lift my head to capture her gaze. “Can you just need me? Can you trust me to be everything you need?”
She blinks several times. “I don’t have anything packed.”
“We’ll stop along the way and shop.” I grin.
Avery tries to hide her delight by biting her lips together.
“Pregnant women shouldn’t sleep on the ground in tents.”
I chuckle. “We’ll stay at the finest hotels.”
“I don’t have that much money.”
“You should have the forty dollars you stole from me. But let’s let that go.” I wink at her. “I’ll cover our lodging.”
“I have nothing, Jake …”
“You have me.” I press my forehead to hers and whisper, “Am I enough, Ave? Because you sure as hell are my everything.”
She smiles, eyes filling with more tears. “Okay.”
EPILOGUE
I only needed Jake and our simple life, but he gave me more.
A big wedding.
A closetful of clothes.
Spa days.
Flowers.
Date nights.
Passion.
A
doration.
Love.
And babies.
If getting pregnant once was a miracle, then we’ve had three miracles in five years—a boy then two girls.
“Is it wrong of me to love the lines on your stomach and the new shape of your belly button even more than I loved the pre-mom version of it?” Jake stands behind me as I stare at my reflection in the full-length mirror.
I’m sure many women judge me when they see me wearing a bikini with my stomach stretched out and distorted from three babies, two of them just over nine pounds. I know this because, at one point in my life, I was that person judging others. I’m not anymore.
Jake snakes his hands around me, palms pressed to my not-so-perfectly-flat stomach just above my bikini bottoms. He kisses my shoulder.
I cover his hands with mine and smile at his reflection—at my reflection. “I love my body.” I don’t just say the words. I mean them to the depths of my soul. “It’s given us Tyler, Kylie, and Rylen. It’s taken me many places. It’s fed babies and held them. It’s given my husband pleasure.” I smirk.
Jake bites his bottom lip, but it doesn’t hide his grin or that look. I love that look. It usually ends with me being pregnant, but I love it just the same.
“There are a dozen or more packages at the door, Miss Blogger.” His right hand slips below the waist of my bikini. “I carried them inside, unpacked them, broke down the boxes, rinsed the sand and ocean off the kids, and packed their bags. Your dad and Deedy should be here soon to get them.”
“Packages.” I grin as my eyes grow heavy from his touch.
“Mommy? Grandpa and Grandma are here!” Tyler calls.
My eyes snap open.
Jake removes his hand from the inside of my bikini bottoms. “Go tell our kids goodbye. I’ll be in the shower. Join me when you get them out the door.”
I turn, sliding my arms around his neck. “A full week. We get a full week to ourselves. We haven’t had a road trip to ourselves since I was pregnant with Tyler. Whatever will we do, Mr. Matthews?” My eyebrows waggle at him.
“No computer, Mrs. Matthews. No The Princess and Her Peas blog. All those items I just unpacked will have to wait a week to be tested and reviewed. Because…” he grabs my ass and brings me as close as possible to his firm body “…we have a week without kids. A week in the RV. A week I will spend inside of you, beneath you, on top of you, all the fuck over you. Okay, Princess?”
I grin. “Mkay. I like all of those scenarios, specifically the one where I’ll be joining you in the shower soon. But count to five hundred before you turn on the water because I’m going to get the kids off first with Dad and Deedy. Then I’m going to look at my new stuff.”
Old habits don’t necessarily die hard. Some habits just never die. And my love of fashion is one of them. However, I changed my ways. My love for fashion shifted to eco-friendly fashion. I started a very successful blog about it, and companies send me all the things to test, try, and review on my blog—handbags, clothes, shoes, accessories, makeup. I make money doing my favorite thing.
We spend most of the year traveling in the RV with the kids to check up on Jake’s restaurants. He and Addy now own eleven Sage Leaf Cafe locations in the U.S., and they have plans to open one in London next spring.
Me, London, and fashion? Yes, please!
Jake closes his eyes, rubbing me against him with a little more intensity. “Four hundred and ninety-nine, four hundred and ninety-eight.”
I giggle, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before running out to the living room of our conservative house along the beach, a few miles from the cafe in L.A. Deedy and my dad took over the loft two years ago to be closer to family as we ran out of space when Rylen was born.
“Where’s Trip’s stuff?” Dad asks as Deedy scoops up Rylen and takes Kylie’s hand.
“The mutt’s coming with us.” I wink.
“You’re taking a five-hundred-pound dog with you on a romantic getaway?”
I chuckle, giving kisses to each one of my beautiful children, all blond-haired, blue-eyed babes. “Trip is not five-hundred pounds.”
“Close enough.” Dad smirks.
We found Trip three years ago at a campsite. No one else was there. He had no collar, no chip and he was a nice, medium-sized dog. A mix of some sort. We took him home. I obsessed over his rapid growth the following months, so I ordered a DNA test for him. Yeah, Trip is mostly a Mastiff, aka a small horse.
“Jake and I fell in love on a road trip with a dog. After three kids, we want to reconnect on a road trip, and we want to take Trip with us. I already called Sydney and told her you wouldn’t be dropping Trip off on your way to Disney with the kiddos.”
“Well …” Dad gives Trip a twisted grin. “He does love to camp.”
Trip cocks his head to the side.
I hear the water turn on in the master bathroom.
“Okay then. Did you already put their bags in the car?” I do my best to funnel everyone toward the door because … Jake … shower … alone time.
“Tommy put them all in the back.” Deedy smiles.
“Love you, babies.” They all get one more round of hugs and kisses from me. “Thank you, both.”
Dad and Deedy nod.
“Where’s Jake?” Deedy asks.
“Um … the shower. I think.”
“Bye, guys. Thanks!” Jake peeks his head around the corner, wearing nothing but a white towel barely holding on to his waist.
Deedy waves at him then shoots me a sly grin.
I turn ten shades of red, returning a tightlipped smile.
Yeah, Deedy, as soon as you leave with our kids, I’m all over that.
Five years without one night of uninterrupted sleep.
Five years of sprinting through sex before someone calls Mommy or Daddy.
Five years of a child in the middle at some point, every single night.
Five years of dirty diapers, spit up, and leaky boobs.
I’m going to ride the Jake train for a solid week.
And if Trip enjoys time alone with his humping pillow, without one of the kids trying to take it from him … well, that’s just a bonus.
The door closes behind them.
I restrain myself from sprinting to the bathroom. When I pull open the glass door, Jake slicks back his wet, now longer, hair as rivulets of water venture down his perfectly inked body.
“Ave …” He grins.
I step inside, closing the door behind me, trapping the steam in with us.
“Tell me how you love me.” I press my lips to his chest as my hand slides lower, forcing his breath to catch.
His eyes drift shut for a few seconds before he kisses the top of my head. “I love you like an acoustic song. The words mean more. The emotions are magnified. It’s like the stars … during the day we don’t see them, but at night when the world around us feels stripped and bare, they shine so brightly.” He ghosts his hands up my hips and brushes his lips over my cheek to my mouth. “I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as you are in this very moment. Our love is … flawed but perfect.” His tongue drags along my top lip. “It’s honest and open. It’s naked, Ave … our love is a naked love.”
The End
Acknowledgments
Since I decided to publish this a month early—just for shits and giggles—these acknowledgments will be quick and dirty.
Thank you to my newsletter subscribers who followed along with this story while I wrote it and dished it out to you in small pieces over a year. It was fun sharing the creative journey with you.
The usual suspects deserve a huge thanks as well: Jennifer Beach, Leslie Skinner, Kambra Wylie, Maxann Dobson, Monique Tarver, Sian Lewis, Social Butterfly PR, BB ebooks, Sarah with Okay Creations, and anyone else that I’m forgetting. If you’re gasping at my lack of remembering your role in all of this, then give yourself a pat on the back. Job well done! Thank you, mystery forgotten ones. It sucks getting old. Yes, I’m playing the age card.
&
nbsp; Tim, Logan, Carter, Asher … I may write a million book boyfriends, but you will forever be my favorite guys. Love you!
Also by Jewel E. Ann
Jack & Jill Series
End of Day
Middle of Knight
Dawn of Forever
Holding You Series
Holding You
Releasing Me
Transcend Series
Transcend
Epoch
Standalone Novels
Idle Bloom
Only Trick
Undeniably You
One
Scarlet Stone
When Life Happened
Look the Part
A Place Without You
jeweleann.com
About the Author
Jewel is a free-spirited romance junkie with a quirky sense of humor.
With 10 years of flossing lectures under her belt, she took early retirement from her dental hygiene career to stay home with her three awesome boys and manage the family business.
After her best friend of nearly 30 years suggested a few books from the Contemporary Romance genre, Jewel was hooked. Devouring two and three books a week but still craving more, she decided to practice sustainable reading, AKA writing.
When she’s not donning her cape and saving the planet one tree at a time, she enjoys yoga with friends, good food with family, rock climbing with her kids, watching How I Met Your Mother reruns, and of course…heart-wrenching, tear-jerking, panty-scorching novels.