by Fiona Starr
We look at each other and it’s like understanding dawns over us both.
Her smile lights her face.
I brace my shoulders. “All right, if it’s truth time, then I’ll start.” I take her hands and pull her to me. “Olivia, I have loved you since the moment I first met you. We have a connection that I don’t want to lose. I—I want you to stay, maybe just a few extra days, so we can talk about this, and maybe see what we both want.”
She gets up on her toes and kisses me. “I’d love to stay a few extra days. Thank you for asking me.”
The ferry horn sounds and it’s time to get on board. We hold hands and walk toward the line.
Olivia stops walking. “Oh. My suitcase is on its way to St. Louis. I don’t have anything to wear.”
I lean down and smile and nip her earlobe. “Oh, I don’t think you’re going to need to wear much at all.”
First Epilogue
ONE YEAR LATER
OLIVIA
Luke comes through the door of the bride’s lounge carrying a tray loaded with a carafe of mimosas and a bunch of glasses. “Your order, madame.” He’s got a wide-eyed super grin plastered to his face as he hands it to me, bows, and hurries out of the room.
“Thanks,” I say, with an equally fake smile.
“Is that the servant with my cocktail? It’s about time.” The bride for this weekend’s wedding has a voice that can peel paint off the walls all by itself.
I take a deep breath and grip the tray and force a smile on my face. “Yes. Here you go. There are enough glasses for everyone.” I place the tray on the counter and prepare to pour mimosas for the bridal party.
She swats my hand away. “They don’t need anything to drink. I am the one getting married and my nerves are shot!”
“All right. Then if we’re all set here, I will go check on the flowers.” I turn to the other women in the room and smile as I depart. They all seem so used to this abuse by their friend. I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours with this woman and I want to throw her off the pier. I can’t imagine being friends with someone who treats people so poorly, and god help the groom.
Ginny hurries into the room as I open the door, a needle and thread in her hands. “All right, I’m back! Let’s get this dress sewn up for you, dear.”
“It’s about time. I swear, you people are going to have to work harder if you think I am going to write a good review online after this.”
I close the door behind me and stand against the wall, pressing my hands into my temples.
“Has the cocktail calmed Bridezilla?” Luke hands me a couple of aspirin and a bottle of water. “I may have added a little more champagne than the recipe calls for.”
“I don’t think we’re dealing with a Bridezilla. This one must be a different species.” I toss the aspirins into my mouth and swallow a swig of water. “Bride-a-saurus Rex, maybe. She’s an apex predator for sure.”
Luke laughs and wraps an arm around me and we walk to the veranda. “It’s going to be a gorgeous wedding, even if she can’t appreciate it.”
“I hope you’re right.”
He was right.
The wedding goes off without a hitch, but also with the expected level of drama and theatrics on the part of Bride-a-saurus Rex. The vows are exchanged, pictures are taken, and dancing is enjoyed by everyone.
The following morning, Maurice sees everyone safely to the shuttle to catch the ferry to the mainland and the airport home. Now I sit on the balcony of our little house, sipping tea and basking in the quiet.
Luke steps through the sliding door and drops into the seat next to me. He kisses me on the forehead and slips his hand in mine and we let them dangle between the chairs.
I smile. “That was quite a weekend. It’s nice to ship everyone off when everything is done.”
He laughs. “Yeah, we’ve got quite the setup here. That’s the main benefit of the private island.”
The breeze coming off the ocean is strong today and the palm trees bend and sway in front of us in a dreamy slow dance.
“Today’s Heather and Steve’s anniversary,” he says.
I smile, remembering their wedding and their gorgeous vows. “That’s right.” I lift my mug and toast them. “Happy Anniversary, lovebirds!”
Luke turns to me, his face serious. “It’s also a year for us.” His voice is low.
“It is.” I smile and squeeze his hand.
“When you decided to move here, I thought I couldn’t be happier. I still feel like the luckiest guy on the planet. What we have is special. I just want you to know that.” He smiles his boyish smile that makes me melt.
I feel tears well in my eyes. I know how hard it is for him to share his feelings so openly. It’s something we’ve been working on actively—the two of us, for the last five months since I moved here permanently. It’s still not easy for either of us.
I put my mug down on the table and slide over to sit in his lap. “Thank you for asking me to stay. Thank you for telling me what you want. Thank you for helping me feel safe and loved.” I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him gently, making sure to look in his eyes as I do.
He moves his hand around my waist and places a little velvet box in my lap. I stare at it, and feel my mouth go dry.
He clears his throat. “So, we’ve talked a lot about being honest and asking for what we want. But I think we work best when we decide together. So, I’ll tell you what I’m thinking and then you can open this and tell me what direction you’d like to go.”
He drapes his arms around my waist. “Olivia Blaze, I want you to be my wife, forever. I want to hold you like this until we’re a hundred and five. If you’ll have me, I will work every day to make you happy.”
I wipe the tears from my cheeks and kiss him. “Luke Morgan, you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, too. I don’t need to open this box to know what I want. I want you. I choose you. This life we’re making here couldn’t be more perfect.”
He opens the box and the diamond sparkles in the morning light as he slips it on my finger. “Olivia, will you marry me?”
I smile and look in his eyes and I see love and adoration and respect and trust. I can’t believe he’s mine. “Yes, Luke. I will.”
I kiss him again, this time with my eyes closed because I know that when I open them he will always be there.
Second Epilogue
ANOTHER YEAR LATER
LUKE
I stand at the altar, wondering how I got so lucky. It’s like something out of a dream—my dream. I have imagined this moment so many times, though in my mind it was always more of a vague and shapeless idea. Not like this. This is real. This is happening, right here, right now.
I really am the luckiest man in the world. All because Olivia chose me. We found each other against any odds I would have placed, and then we chose each other. I don’t think I’ll ever stop appreciating how fantastic and special that really is.
She walks down the aisle toward me, her arm draped over her dad’s, and I feel like my whole world is contained right here in this square of beach. The breeze off the ocean is gentle as the sun sets, and every time she looks at me her smile widens a tiny bit, as if she is surprised that I am still here every time.
She’s got the sweetest smile. Seeing her in her white dress, her hair done up and all of it just so… she’s perfect.
I’ve been waiting for this day since the moment she said yes, and not just because we’ll be married. I mean, there’s no doubt that I can’t wait for her to be my wife, but more importantly, I want this day for her. I want everything to be absolutely perfect, so perfect that it quashes any lingering shadow of the last time she did this. Olivia deserves everything I can give her; my body, my soul, and all of my love, but today, she deserves a beautiful wedding.
I glance over at Ginny, who did all the planning for this weekend’s celebration, and I just smile. Between Ginny and Katie, Guy, Michael and Thomas, our wedding is already making everyone
feel like they stepped off the ferry into a magical storybook event. Every inch of the island is decked out for the occasion, and between the brunches, the walks, the pool party, and dinners, and all the other events we’ve enjoyed, every moment has been on point and absolutely perfect.
I nod thanks at Ginny and she touches her hand to her chest. I really couldn’t be more proud of my team and this beautiful place and what it means for all of us who live and make our life here.
The rest of the world feels so far away right now and that’s just fine with me. All that matters is right here, walking toward me with her smile, holding my heart in her eyes.
OLIVIA
Butterflies flitter through me as my father walks me down the aisle. I can’t believe I am here, after all these years, actually getting married. After everything I’ve been through with my own wedding past, I truly never thought I’d do this again.
My heart is racing and it feels like there’s something squeezing my chest. Every one of our family and friends has made it here to our little island for a weekend of celebration. I smile and steal quick glances at people as we pass, but my gaze keeps going right back to Luke. His face makes me feel calm and steady. Looking at him, I can breathe. I take in a deep breath and blow it out slowly, trying to calm my rabbit pulse.
Luke stands up at the front near the altar and watches me, his smile sweet and loving.
He catches my gaze and as our eyes lock he bites his lower lip, turning his smile into a wolfish grin that’s at once possessive and intimate, and one-hundred-percent only for me. Heat courses through my body and I have to concentrate on the fact that we’re here in front of everyone so I don’t get lost in the mental montage of all the things he’s going to do to me later with that glorious mouth of his.
Every time I look for him at the altar, a small part of me is surprised that he’s still there. He’s waiting for me to join him so he can pledge himself to me forever. All the memories from my past feel like ancient history most days, but there is still a small part of my mind that’s unable to really believe that he’s still standing there every time I peek. But then the rest of me remembers that this is Luke.
Luke, who loves me without condition. Luke, whose respect for me and what I want and need goes so deep he almost let go of his dream of us entirely. Luke, who knows me more deeply than any other person on this earth. Luke, who has shared himself with me as completely as a person can.
I have never known anyone as well as I do him, and the bond this creates between us feels magnetic and real and steady.
Before we turn to face the altar, my father touches my cheek and kisses me. “I’m so happy for you, sweetheart. We all are. Luke is one lucky guy,” he whispers.
I wrap my arms around him and hold him close. “Thanks, Daddy. I feel pretty lucky myself.”
He shakes Luke’s hand and pulls him into a hug before leaving me with my fiancé. Then he takes his seat next to my mom, who dabs a tissue at her tears.
“Hey handsome,” I whisper as I take Luke’s hand.
He squeezes my fingers and looks into my eyes. “Hey, you look beautiful, Liv.”
We turn to the minister and my eyes are drawn to the orange and pink sunset shimmering on the water. A pair of dolphins breach, appearing like two dark silhouettes on the otherwise glittering sea.
Luke leans in, his mouth near my ear. “They’re celebrating too. I can’t believe I get to spend the rest of my life loving you, Olivia.”
His words touch something deep inside me and raise a wave of love that spills out of my eyes. I blink and smile back at him. “You ever feel like we’re the luckiest people alive?”
He wipes my tears and when I meet his gaze, he’s serious and thoughtful. “Every single day, my love. Every single day.”
Sigh… did you love reading that as much as I did writing it?
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July: Her Roman Candle
Her Roman Candle: The Fireworks Series
Copyright © 2019 by Fiona Starr
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
Happy 4th of July!
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
First Epilogue
Second Epilogue
The Fireworks Series
Happy 4th of July!
Welcome to Milltown, Colorado, population 15,000, where the only things hotter than the annual fireworks show are the men in uniform and the women who want to light their fuses.
Join the authors of Flirt Club in The Fireworks Series of stories that celebrate small-town summers, bbqs, and all things that end with a bang!
Where will you be when the fireworks start?
He's too hot to handle... almost.
After discovering my almost-fiancé had not one, but two "other women" with engagement rings on their ring fingers, I have decided to give the whole romance thing a break and spend the summer with my granny. Getting back in touch with my childhood summers full of small-town memories—bonfires at the lake, ice cream on Main Street, and of course, the biggest fireworks show in the state—sounds like the perfect way to disconnect and reset. That is, until I meet Roman Chandler, one of the newest residents of this tiny town who is about as hot in his uniform as his name suggests. Too bad I've sworn off anything with a wick, right?
Looking for more sexy fun times? Subscribe to my Newsletter and you’ll never miss a throb, a beat, or a single lick!
Chapter One
POPPY
The smell of freshly baked Irish soda bread reaches me upstairs as I unpack the last of my things from my suitcase. The scent conjures memories of lazy summers at the lake with my family, wandering the shops on Milltown’s Main Street in the evenings with my cousins, and sitting on the park swings while we devour ice cream cones from Dottie’s Ice Cream Parlor. It’s the scent of Grandma Lynn’s house, which is the only place I want to be right now.
I take a deep breath and sigh. “Smells wonderful, Grandma Lynn.” I raise my voice so she can hear me in the kitchen.
“I added extra raisins, just the way you like it. Tea will be ready in a minute.” I can tell by the soft tone of her voice that she’s already talked to my mom and knows at least a little about what happened between me and Matt. As if my call last week asking if she wanted a guest for the summer wasn’t clue enough that my life has gone completely off the rails.
A couple of weeks ago, everything seemed fine. Matt and I had just signed the lease and we were getting ready to move into our first apartment together in the city. He’d just been promoted at his law firm, which was based in Chicago but had an office locally. They were e
xpanding their presence in Denver and Matt was on track to make partner one day.
My marketing consulting business was finally taking off, too. I just got back from a trip where I signed two new clients—one of which was a referral from an existing account. We were both on our way and looking ahead to a bright future together.
Then everything fell apart last week while I was in Chicago on business. I had wrapped up my last meeting and made plans to have dinner in the city with Gwen, an old college friend I hadn’t seen in years. We were waiting for our table on the restaurant’s rooftop bar when Gwen spotted a group of her friends nearby. We joined them for a drink. One of the women—Leah—took a picture of the group of us and tagged us all on social media. She had to ask for my username to tag and follow me.
A few minutes later Leah says, “Poppy, how do you know Matthew Standen?” She turns her phone to show me one of the pictures I’d added of Matt and me from a recent trip to Aspen.
Her question seemed innocent enough. I didn’t think anything of it. “He’s my boyfriend. Do you know him?” It didn’t seem beyond the realm of possibility, given that his law firm had their headquarters here in Chicago.
It was like the air in the bar stopped moving. Suddenly, all of Leah’s friends got quiet and looked at each other, as if waiting for someone else to say something. Gwen was at a loss as well. They were all obviously uncomfortable.