Why is he harping on this? “Man, that was months ago. Since then, we had really made strides in forgiving each other. In getting to know one another again. In falling in love. Or so I thought.”
I slump into a cushioned desk chair, metaphorical storm clouds threatening to crack open over my head.
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit,” Patrick whispers under his breath.
“What? Do you need to be here? Can I have some peace?” I wish he would leave me in my depression already.
“I think I might have done something … something bad.”
I had to turn and face him now, because I’d never heard Patrick so freaked out. One look in his eyes, and my stomach dropped to the floor.
“What did you do, Patty?”
He held up his hands. “Dean … from all the conversations we’d had, I thought this was how you felt, so I approached Kara. I was only looking out for your best interests. I thought that after the trial was over and the charges were dropped, that you’d want to be able to get back to your life without her.”
My ears begin to ring, and although I see his mouth moving, I can’t make out the words. “What? What are you saying?”
He wipes his hand over his face, his usual iron-clad demeanor crumbling. “I thought you wanted her gone. So that’s what I told her. That you didn’t want to be engaged, that you wanted to pay her off and have her leave.”
The puzzle pieces that have been floating around my brain, trying to figure out what went wrong, all click into place. She left because she thought I wanted her to. She didn’t fight for us, because someone had told her that I’d already given up. Her face, the way she couldn’t look me in the eye at the meeting … it wasn’t because she didn’t love me, but because she did and thought I wanted nothing more to do with her.
I slam my beer down on the studio board, beer splashing over the expensive equipment. I could care less in this moment. “I’m going to deal with you later. I can’t even see through the fury blinding me when it comes to you. But right now, I’m going out into that parking lot and getting in the car. You better get on the Goddamn phone and have my plane ready on the tarmac by the time I get there, because I’m going to get my girl.”
I don’t give my agent a backward glance as I stride out of the studio, a new purpose filling my loins.
The only thing I can see as I race toward the airport is Kara’s beautiful face in my mind.
My plane touches down four hours later, and I’m speeding down the highways I used to call home toward the O’Connor family home. The minute my rental screeches into the driveway, I’m sprinting up the stairs to the front door.
Kara’s mother answers, her expression full of shock and worry. She probably reads the sheer panic on my face, which, I think, is the only reason that she tells me they haven’t seen Kara for hours, but that she said she was going to clear her head.
I know immediately where she is. Now, hopefully, she doesn’t slap me square across the face when I get there.
Chapter Forty-Five
Kara
Why I came out here, I’m not sure. Maybe it’s because Dean and I’s childhood spot gives me comfort, even after everything came crumbling down again.
It’s cool outside, not yet the nice part of spring where the weather stays mild into the evening. But the last rays of purple sunset are setting, and I’m alone on my bleachers, wrapped in a thick sweater, so I’m okay.
Hours have passed since I left the house, telling my parents I needed to clear my head. They’d looked worried, but hadn’t questioned me. I’d just needed fresh air and silence to think about what my next steps were.
I had enough money now to rent my own place and not starve, so besides getting my residency in New Jersey back, that was the next course of action. I could finish my residency here and then branch out, maybe pick up and move somewhere. I’d never considered that before, and a little flicker of hope lit in my chest. I could start over. Be someone else, somewhere else.
“Kara.”
That voice in the darkness … at first I thought I was hallucinating. But as he moved closer, I made out the tousled dirty blond hair, those electric eyes piercing through the night air. My heart flip-flopped in my chest and I cursed it for being such a traitor. Even after he’d destroyed me so thoroughly, every cell in me knows that he still owns me.
“Get away from me.” I stand to bolt as his first foot hits the bottom bleacher.
“Just let me explain …” He holds his hands up, as if I’m a deer in headlights that’s about to run the wrong way.
“There is nothing further to talk about. We both got what we wanted.” I would not let him see me hurt.
Dean takes two more steps up the bleachers, he’s almost to me, and I can’t move. “Kara, baby, it all got fucked up again. I never … I didn’t want you to leave. Not for one second. You have to believe me.”
I can’t believe my feet won’t move, that I’m standing here listening to this bullshit. “You’re a liar.”
“I love you. I’ve always loved you. Just listen to me. Patrick … I don’t know in God’s name why, but he thought he was protecting me. Thought I wanted you to leave after the charges were dropped. He told you, well I’m not sure exactly how he said it but you must know that he told you I wanted you gone. That I wanted to pay you off to leave and never talk about our contract relationship. Is that right?”
His words made me backtrack, finally hearing him instead of trying to plan an escape route, a way to preserve my heart. “Wait, what?”
“Kara, I didn’t tell him any of that. In fact, I was coming home from Seattle to tell you that I loved you so much, and I wouldn’t go another day without hearing you return those words. I’d planned to trap you in bed for all eternity if that’s what it took. I missed you so much during those four days, that I could barely think when I walked into that conference room. The entire meeting, you having already signed the papers, it completely blindsided me.”
I suck in a breath, my mind scrambling at a mile a minute. “You didn’t want me to leave?”
“No.” Now he’s in front of me, his hands cautiously reaching out, gently forcing me to sit.
“I thought …”
“I know what you thought. And Patrick … I’m going to fucking kill him for it. But it was dead ass wrong.”
Tears clog my throat, but I’m still skeptical and broken, fragile in my heartbreak. “But you signed the papers.”
Dean’s eyes plead with me to believe him as he sits down next to me in our spot. “You did, too. But it doesn’t matter. Fuck the negotiations, the signatures, all of it. It was a stupid move in the first place, when all I really wanted was you. For years, all I’ve thought about is you.”
“How can … I trust this? Dean, we’ve hurt each other so many times.” Finally, I crack, all of the emotions I’ve held inside for the past week clawing their way out of my chest.
“This is me, Kara. You know me. You know us. And you know that everything here is real. We didn’t do this, it was all a big misunderstanding, your leaving.” He points between us, and then tucks the lock of hair that blew in the wind behind my ear.
“Anyways, it doesn’t matter what Patrick thought he was doing, I shouldn’t have let you go in the first place. I thought that by giving you a choice, by begging you not to stay or trying not to influence your decision, that I was being a bigger man. But that was my mistake last time, staying silent. I should have told you all of the ways in which I am completely enamored by you. How you make my soul come alive. Why my life is absolutely nothing without you. I should have said those things, and instead I let you walk out because I was, again, a coward. But I’m done with that. I’m here for you, and I’m not going anywhere.”
Dean pulls out a small velvet box from inside his leather bomber jacket. I grip the metal bleacher, my fingers trying to ground me as my heart lifted as if it were attached to a million colorful balloons.
He didn’t want me to leave. In fact, here he
was, fighting for me like he should have done all those years ago. I was a fool for not speaking up, for allowing myself to believe the worst in him yet again, without letting him explain. We’d both made the same mistakes we had seven years ago, but here Dean was, saying it wasn’t too late.
“You left something back in Los Angeles, besides me. And I couldn’t think of a better place to return it, if you still want it.” He laces his fingers through mine, setting the box down in the space between us.
“Kara, my life had become so complicated that I didn’t even know who I was anymore. The last time I remember being sane, being in my own skin, was sitting on these bleachers with you in my arms. After everything happened … my star rose but my heart was broken. I was living a half-life, and it wasn’t whole again until I manipulated you into being with me. When you were under my roof, because a contract had put you there, my heart was finally on fire again. I felt like I could breathe again for the first time in seven years. I know I hurt you, far too many times to count, but Kara … I love you. You’re the only person in my life I’ve ever truly loved, and if I don’t tell you, I’ll regret it for the rest of my days. I know I’ve given you a million reasons not to … but take me back anyway. Because we’re it for each other, and you know it too. Be my fiancée, in the realest way possible. Marry me, complete me?”
Words escape me, and I teeter on the edge of raw bliss and sheer doubt. He’s fighting for us, enough for the both of us. And if he can take the leap over that edge, so can I.
“I love you.” Those three words that have sat in my heart for so long are finally set free, flying over our heads like the most beautiful of birds.
Dean sighs, a noise of relief, as he sinks to one knee on the structure that has held the most important moments of our lives. “That’s not an answer.”
I have to laugh, because as usual his slick charm has won me over. “Yes. The answer is yes.”
Epilogue
Kara
Six Months Later
I guess it wouldn’t be called irony or fate if things didn’t come full circle.
Our second chapter had begun at a wedding, and now Dean and I had ended up back in New Jersey on a sunny Saturday in the fall, about to walk down another aisle and make some more grand entrances into a ballroom.
After he’d slipped that diamond ring back onto my finger, we’d both decided that we wanted nothing to do with a long engagement. In true Dean and Kara fashion, we’d planned a wedding in six whirlwind months, with the help of Mom, of course. Seeing vendors, picking favors, ordering dresses, and tasting food all while bicoastal had been a circus, but it had been ridiculously fun because we’d done it together.
Los Angeles called, and I’d come running. Only two weeks after I’d left, I was back, with no one the wiser about where I’d gone or what had happened. And the best part? There was no contract hanging over our heads.
I returned to work at both Dr. Ottoman’s and the hospital, my programs becoming more intensive as I neared the end of my residency program. But it was okay, since Dean flew in and out of the area, playing legs of the tour and then coming home whenever he could.
We’d sat down and had a nice long talk with Patrick, who had apologized to me profusely, numerous times. He’d even bought me a Bentley, and I can’t say it didn’t go a long way because damn, the car was smoking. Dean and I put a policy in place with Patrick when it came to our relationship from now on; we were in control of any media or appearance we made, and he left it to us to work out any business that concerned our love and commitment. It wasn’t perfect between he and I yet, but we were making an effort to get to know each other for Dean’s sake.
“Okay, time to get your veil on. And please, Mama O’Connor, do not ruin my masterpiece!” Heidi flits about me, spraying every lose hair and perfecting my lip gloss as Mom prepares the clip to run through the back of my updo.
Looking in the mirror, butterflies flap through my stomach as I glance down at my wedding dress, an A-line lace number with three-quarter sleeves and an illusion neckline. My wedding dress. I can’t believe I was about to marry my high school sweetheart. The boy I’d had all my firsts with. The man who was going to own all of my lasts.
A flutter of talking, last minute touchups, and then the harp began to play and I was standing at the end of the aisle, my father’s arm holding mine tight. Dean and I had agreed on a secluded resort in the mountains just before the Pennsylvania border, where the leaves were orange and red, and the makeshift aisle sprinkled with hundreds of white rose petals. The sun gleamed down on our small audience of fifty or so.
But all I could see was the love of my life, standing in front of the wooden chuppah in a tuxedo that made my mind fill with dirty, dirty thoughts. Dean’s expression is full of emotion, and when I see his eyes fill with tears, I can no longer hold mine at bay.
Throughout the ceremony, which is officiated by Neil, we cry, laugh, and take each moment to bask in the reality of what is happening.
And when Dean finally reaches up to cup my cheek, our union being announced for the whole world to hear, and kisses me, I know that everything we’ve been through had to happen to get us to this moment.
The day turns to night, and a dance floor appears under hundreds of string lights that make a roof between our guests and the stars.
As we take the dance floor for our first dance, I get lost in those blue eyes that I now get to stare into forever.
A familiar voice fills the air, the guitar I’d heard so many times before backing it. But the song was new, and my heart swooned as Dean’s lyrics about our love flutters over the dance floor.
He’d written us a wedding song. And it was more perfect than any I could have ever imagined.
“Dean Jacobs, will you always love me?” I press my cheek to his, as one of the oldest songs he ever wrote was now playing over the dance floor.
“Kara Jacobs, I will love you until the end of time.” My husband presses his lips to my temple.
“Good. Now write me a new song. I mean, another one.”
Blue, misty eyes meet mine. “They’re only ever about you.”
About the Author
Author of romance novels such as Red Card and Privileged, Carrie Aarons writes sexy, swoony and sarcastic characters who won't get out of her head until she puts them down on a page.
Carrie has wanted to be an author since the first time she opened a book, and still can’t fathom that she gets to live her dream each and every day.
When she isn't in a writing coma, Carrie spends time Netflix-binging with her husband, snuggling her newborn daughter, and chasing her Black Lab through the dog parks of New Jersey.
For more information:
www.carrieaarons.com
[email protected]
Also by Carrie Aarons
Privileged
In a world of wealth and power, the rules of love and war are nothing as they seem.
Nora Randolph never wanted a life of luxury. But when her mother falls in love with the heir to the British throne, their small-town lives are uprooted and every little girl’s fantasy becomes her reality. All too quickly, she learns the dangers of running in circles with the world’s elite, especially when she attracts the attention of Winston Academy’s resident golden boy.
Asher Frederick has known nothing but favor and fortune. The son of London’s most influential family, his future has been written in stone since infancy. But a tragic childhood loss redirects his course, and revenge has been boiling in his blood for years. When innocent and unaware Nora lands in his path, it’s as if the universe hands him the ammunition to finally drag his enemy through the mud.
But as his plan for vengeance gets more twisted, so do his feelings for Nora. And as her immersion into the upper crust dives deeper, she struggles to keep the secret she’s been guarding for eighteen years.
Heavy lies the crown, and when the ultimate betrayal blindsides her, will either of them survive the consequences that come cras
hing down on their heads?
Ghost in His Eyes
He was as magnetic as a deadly hurricane to the shore.
Carson Cole was my first love. The boy I'd shared my whole self with.
He was the man who'd taken the other part of my soul and drowned it in the sea we'd grown up in.
And now he's back. Ten years later, and the demons of our past are still haunting every breath trapped between us.
She was as wild as the horses who owned the beach highways we drove down.
Blake Sayer was the beautiful daredevil who had me wrapped around her finger from the time we were seven.
Until a horrible accident stole every piece of joy from her life.
Ten years later, she's a shell of the girl she once was, and it's all my fault. The whispers of our history shackle her to the island I left behind.
Just like lost years and unspoken words, love had slipped from our fingers like grains of sand. We’d barely made it out alive last time, was it even possible to reconstruct the shattered pieces of us?
All the Frogs in Manhattan
You know how Cinderella had the whole glass slipper, pumpkin carriage, fairy godmother thing?
Yeah…with foot-destroying stilettos, Uber, and a Twitter horoscope, my life is far from a happily ever after.
In fact, instead of Prince Charming, I end up dating every slimy, scaly, brainless frog in the kingdom of Manhattan. And by frog, I mean all of the stereotypical bad guys that Mom and Lifetime movies warned you about.
The meathead player.
The mommy's boy.
The namedropper.
The cheapskate.
If they suck at relationships, I’ve probably kissed those cold, clammy lips in the hopes of finding love. Until one day, when one man with commitment issues offers to help me find the Romeo to my Juliet.
As Long As You Hate Me Page 18