Dewey Belong Together

by Smartypants Romance

  His pronouncement was met with groans and laughs. Jonathan walked over to where I was seated and pulled out my chair, extending a hand. “Shall we, my lady?

  “I am no lady,” I replied, grinning. “But yes. Let’s make a quick escape before the peasants revolt.”

  We ducked out to some jeers and very quickly got on our shoes. Jonathan surprised me by leading me by the hand around the back of the cottage and up the path to the woods. It was the same way we’d headed on Medieval Day, and sure enough, at the crest of the small hill was the bright red tent suspended from a sturdy branch.

  “What in the … are we smashing watermelons again today?” I asked, curious.

  “No, no feats of strength. Maybe a feat or two of courage, though,” he said, and pulled me along until we were standing in front of the tent. Inside was a bed of quilts and cushions, and a cooler. There were also two items prominently displayed. A blue tabard, and beside it, a pink head cone—which I knew was actually called a hennin—with a translucent veil.

  Jonathan stared at the items, his mouth slightly agape. “There were supposed to be two matching tabards! What in the … freakin’ Norman.”

  I sat down on a cushion, laughing so hard my sides ached. “Not so fast,” I managed. “This has Lois stamped all over it. She plays the sweet and wise angle, but she’s a loose cannon.” I held the cone out, and declared, “Here’s your costume, my dear.”

  “I’m not wearing that!” he replied, putting his hands on his hips.

  “Well, I’m sure as hell not,” I said, gasping for air by this point. I forced myself to stop laughing long enough to get out, “Come on, whatever you’ve got planned, it can only be enhanced by you wearing an excellently taped together pink head cone.”

  “Fine,” Jonathan said, grabbing the cone from my hands. “You think I’m going to back away from a challenge just because I’ll look foolish? Ha!” He plunked the cone on his head, the train reaching to about his waist.

  Not to be outdone, I picked up the tabard and slipped it over my head, tying it around my middle. I glanced around for nerf weapons or any other indicator of what we were doing here.

  Jonathan sat down beside me, near the cooler, and asked me if I’d like a drink. He pulled out some sparkling cider and two champagne flutes from the container.

  “Now, a toast,” he said, that horrendous English accent having returned. I snorted as he poured the cider, and then raised my glass.

  “And what are we celebrating, Sir Wrath?” I asked, happily playing along.

  “Us,” he replied, clinking his flute with mine. “I am of the opinion that the joining of ourselves under one roof is a fortuitous time to declare the eventual joining of our Houses.” He then stuck his free hand into his pants pocket. He withdrew a small, blue velvet box. I gasped, and a huge grin broke out on my face as I reached for it.

  “Hey, not so fast,” he said, pulling his hand backward. “There is something I’ve got to tell you about this box.”

  “What?” I asked, laughing with joy this time, my heart thudding so loud in my chest that I was certain he could hear it.

  “Like telling you that what’s inside this box is bigger than it seems. One might say it has a bit of magic, like a book,” he said, trying to sound serious and failing because he kept smiling. I felt like I might faint as he opened the box, revealing an exquisite sapphire ring. He dropped the accent and said, “Maxine Peters, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  My hand shook as I extended my left arm so he could place the ring on my fourth finger. It sparkled in the afternoon sunlight, a gorgeous square blue stone on a white gold band. It looked like an antique and was exactly the type of ring I would pick out for myself. I never thought I would be one of those women who freaked out over a piece of jewelry, but Jonathan was right. This ring was so much bigger than its size. It represented a promise between us, a promise to always be there for each other; to love each other even in the hard times, and to laugh together in the good.

  Jonathan leaned in for a kiss, and I glomped onto him so hard that he almost tipped over. We embraced as if we only held on tightly enough, we’d become one person.

  “Is it okay that I did this?” Jonathan murmured, stroking my hair with one hand. “I know you believe in ‘cohabilation’ before marriage.”

  “Of course,” I replied, barely containing a giggle, I was so giddy. “We’ll have plenty of time to live together during the engagement. I’m just glad you didn’t do it at the dinner table.” I sat back and laid a kiss on his bearded cheek.

  “I had thought of that, to be honest,” he replied, looking sheepish. “But I wanted it to just be us, you know?” I nodded. “Of course, everyone back at the cottage is waiting to see if I’ve won your hand.”

  “Stick with me, and at the end of the day it’ll be Sir Wrath and Maximus_Damage for the win, always.” I teased.

  “Of that, I have no doubt.”

  Acknowledgments and a Note From the Author

  Just as it takes a village to raise a child, I discovered that it takes a village to produce a book. I am beyond lucky that my village was full of the kindest, most selfless, and helpful people anyone could ever hope to work with.

  First, I have to give my sincerest thanks to Penny Reid for this magical creation of Smartypants Romance, which has transformed a dream I had since I was a little girl into a reality. You are an excellent mentor and an amazing human being. For Fiona and Brooke, who have helped me in a myriad of ways, from answering frantic emails to teaching me new skills, to being a rock-solid beta, I have nothing but admiration and thanks for your time and work. Michelle and Iveta, my invaluable editors, this book is far better for your investment in the story, and meticulous attention to detail. Ashley, my beta and one of my biggest cheerleaders, thanks for the awesomesauce support. The other Smartypants Romance authors, you’ve been at various times my inspirations, my friends, my shoulders to lean on. Thank you.

  To my family for being there through all of the joys and jenga of my writing a first novel, thank you for your constant encouragement and belief in me. Pat, I love you with all my heart, and thank you for keeping my spirits up during the difficult times, and cheering me on during the good.

  Carian Cole, for providing me with mentorship as a newbie writer before Smartypants Romance was in the picture, I am extremely grateful. Your guidance on writing in general is part of how I landed this gig and I am your humble fan for life. Becky, thanks for helping me in my research about Florida. Laura, thank you for your cosplay insights; any mistakes are completely my own. Jan, the brilliant mind behind the real Medieval Day, I can only say, thank you for letting our epic day in Point Pleasant inspire my story. And to all of my guildies, past and present, thank you for the memories. Particularly Pat and Chris—I don’t know how we’ve put up with each other for sixteen years, but here we are. Thanks for the lolz, ya newbs.

  Korrie, it was your Facebook group that brought me around to a love of romance, particularly romantic comedy, and I would never have discovered this passion I have for the genre without you. Your kind spirit and support have mattered deeply to me. Cassandra, thank you for recommending the heck out of Penny Reid, which started me on this strange and wonderful journey to a place called Green Valley.

  * * *

  A note about bipolar disorder and generalized anxiety disorder

  In writing this book, Jonathan’s experience with bipolar disorder closely mirrors my own decades-long journey living with this condition. I also informed Jonathan’s experience through discussion with others with this disorder, whose names I will keep for the sake of their privacy. I also learned much from my own various mental health teams. At one point, Maxine calls bipolar a “complex disorder.” She’s right; it has various types and manifestations, and if you are living with this condition and reading this book, it is very possible that you might not recognize yourself in Jonathan’s experience at all. My explanations in the book are hardly meant to be an exhaustive o
verview of the disorder, but it was my hope to show one person’s journey of living with this condition, and how he is worthy and capable of loving and being loved in return.

  I also wrote multiple characters with anxiety disorders, because again, I live with generalized anxiety disorder, and know many others who struggle with it daily.

  I believe that the more we normalize having these types of mental health conditions, the further we work to de-stigmatize them. The more we show that these characters are people with wants, goals, dreams, with people who love them or who they love, then the closer we get to removing the veil of silence that embraces these conditions.

  About the Author

  Ann Whynot has been writing books since she was a kid, and has always dreamed of becoming a published author. She is a voracious reader and book collector, and used book stores are her kryptonite. She also has a passion for video games, and met her partner in one. She loves crafting, baking, laughing, and travel. She lives with her family, dog, and two cats near a little village by the ocean on the Canadian east coast, and is inspired by both the forest and sea.

  Find Ann online:

  Website: www.annwhynot.com

  Email: ann@annwhynot.com

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/AnnWhynotWrites

  Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/annwhynot

  Twitter: @AnnWhynotWrites

  Instagram: @ann.whynot

  Find Smartypants Romance online:

  Website: www.smartypantsromance.com

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/smartypantsromance

  Twitter: @smartypantsrom

  Instagram: @smartypantsromance

  Newsletter: https://smartypantsromance.com/newsletter/

  Read on for:

  1. Sneak Peek: Eye Candy by Jiffy Kate, Book #3 in the Fighting For Love Series

  2. Smartypants Romance’s Booklist

  Sneak Peek: Eye Candy by Jiffy Kate, Fighting For Love Book #3

  Vali

  “Hear, ye! Hear, ye!” Cage bangs his fist on the breakfast table, startling everyone in the room. “The Erickson Family Meeting is now starting. Are all members present?”

  Gunnar groans, rolling his eyes. “Dude, it’s too early for all this formality. You can see we’re all here.”

  I raise my coffee mug to silently announce my presence, but also in agreement with Gunnar.

  Cage has always let the fact he’s the second oldest go to his head. Now that three out of five of us are in Green Valley, he’s assumed the role as oldest in Viggo’s absence. Fortunately, Gunnar and I are used to it and we’re both pretty easygoing, so we usually roll with it, except for when he calls these family meetings at absurd hours, like seven in the morning.

  “Where’s Frankie?” Cage asks, glancing around the table.

  About that time, Frankie steps into the room and gives us all a wave. “I’m here. I just wasn’t sure if I was supposed to attend or not.” Even though she and Gunnar have been together for a while now, she still seems fairly reserved around us.

  I get it. After learning about her backstory with her estranged father and all she’s been through since learning the truth about her past, it’s easy to understand where her reservations come from. However, she has started to come out of her shell a bit in the last month or so, which is good. She’s going to need to learn how to hold her own if she’s going to survive the Ericksons. At some point, all of us will be together and we’re a lot to handle.

  “Of course you’re supposed to be here,” Tempest says, smiling at Frankie as she serves her up one of her famous muffins she brought over from Donner Bakery. “You’re family.”

  “Told you,” Gunnar says as he pulls his girlfriend onto his lap. “You’re one of us, so you have to put up with these bullshit meetings too.”

  Cage started having these weekly meetings last month before Christmas. And he intentionally scheduled them on Wednesdays at seven in the morning so Frankie could come before she leaves to volunteer in Maryville at the women’s shelter and Tempest can be here after she finishes her shift at Donner Bakery.

  Even though we’re missing Ozzi and Viggo, our family here in Green Valley is growing.

  “Watch it,” Cage warns Gunnar, shoving his head and almost making him spill his smoothie. If that had happened, the fight would probably be on.

  “Fucker,” Gunnar mumbles under his breath, bringing his smoothie up to his mouth to cover his smartass remark. Frankie rolls her eyes as he pulls her closer, using her for more of a decoy.

  Cage’s hand goes for one of the muffins on the plate in front of him, but Tempest grabs his wrist.

  “Don’t even think of using my muffins as weapons, Leif Cage Erickson.”

  He looks at her incredulously, acting affronted by her admonishing. “Damn, woman. I was going to eat it, not throw it,” he argues. Tempest doesn’t look convinced and I’m calling bullshit too.

  This little display is just one example of how perfect Tempest is for my big brother. I love how she’s not afraid to call him out.

  Looking around the table, my heart warms at seeing my brothers so happy and in love, but I can’t help the sting I feel at their displays of affection. I had that once—happiness, love, someone I wanted to spend forever with.

  But not anymore.

  “So, what’s on our agenda this morning?” I ask, clearing my throat. I’m ready to get this show on the road and I’d like to have something else to think about other than how fucked up my love life is… was.

  “You got some hot date we don’t know about or something?” Cage asks.

  “The only date Vali has is checking out today’s local gossip column in the paper,” Gunnar says, giving me a shit-eating grin. “Any time his name is mentioned, he cuts the article out and adds it to his spank bank.”

  “Spank bank? You mean, like, porn?” Tempest turns to me, looking intrigued.

  Pointing to Gunnar, I say, “You, shut the fuck up.” When I look back at Tempest, my tone is a bit softer. “No, I don’t have porn here. That’s what computers are for, anyway. Now, can we move on from my masturbatory details, please? I’m bored.”

  When you’re in a small town like Green Valley, Tennessee, you have to find unique ways to keep yourself entertained. So, excuse the fuck out of me if I’ve found a new interest in the local gossip column. But they’re not part of my spank bank.

  I have a perfectly good imagination for that, thank you very much.

  Cage clears his throat, getting the attention back on him before he begins. “First, I’d like to start by congratulating Gunnar again on his victory against Mikey O’Malley, the Muscle of Memphis, last weekend!” Pointing to Gunnar, he adds, “You keep it up and we’ll be headed for that title belt sooner than you think, my brother.”

  The entire table erupts in applause and Gunnar accepts the praise humbly. Well, as humbly as an Erickson prodigy can. At least he isn’t taking a bow and blowing kisses. Instead, he dips his chin in appreciation before burying his face in the crook of Frankie’s neck.

  “Also,” Cage continues, pride washing over his features, “it’s time for the grand opening of our brand-new, state-of-the-art ring in the gym expansion downstairs. And we need to decide how we want to celebrate. Do we have an exhibition, something to raise money, or do we just want to host a party and let the public come check it out?”

  “State of the art,” I snigger. “It’s a fucking boxing ring, bro. Does it have some special powers I’m not aware of?”

  “Yeah, it has a force field around it to keep wannabe fighters, like you, out. No posers allowed.” I swear, Gunnar is gonna get his mouth busted if he keeps this up.

  “Listen here, asshole—”

  “Enough!” Cage booms. “Both of you are on my last nerve. We’re not kids back in Dallas anymore, so nut up and start acting like adults. Which leads me to the last topic on my agenda…” My older brother turns and looks directly at me before asking, “Vali, why the hell are you still in Green Valley?”

  His
question catches me off guard, so I just stare him down, casually bringing my coffee cup up to my mouth and taking a drink, buying me time to formulate an answer.

  “Cage,” Tempest mutters, rolling her eyes. “Vali, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you want.” Reaching across the table, she places her small hand over mine and squeezes, giving off a motherly vibe. “That goes for you too, Gunnar. And if Ozzi and Viggo want to join in, I’m sure we could find room for them too.”

  When she smiles up at Cage, his tough facade finally crumbles a little and he gives her a softer stare, brushing his thumb over her cheek as he cups her face. This more affectionate side of Cage is something I never got the chance to witness until coming to Green Valley.

  I know he had a serious relationship when he was at Harvard, but he never brought that girl home. When he left Harvard and came back to Erickson MMA, we all lived the bachelor lifestyle, our doors revolving with the latest flavor of the month… or week… shit, sometimes, night.

  But monogamy looks good on him.

  “We’ll have to buy another fucking storefront,” Cage grumbles, turning his attention back to the rest of us. “If we keep this up, we’ll own the whole damn block.”

  “Think we could get Mr. Jones to sell his appliance store?” I ask. “That building he’s in has a sweet balcony on the backside. I’ve always wondered what was up there.”

  Cage just huffs his annoyance and walks over to the coffee pot for a refill.