“You’re really back.”
“And I’m not going anywhere ever again. I promise,” he groaned. “I want so badly to slip inside you right now. But it was poor planning on my part. We need to leave.”
“Now? Why?”
“Our ride is going to be here in a few minutes.”
“Our ride? Are we going somewhere?”
“Yes.”
“Why aren’t we taking your car?”
“I think we need a change of pace for tonight.”
I smiled. “Okay.”
When we stepped outside, I was shocked to find a horse and carriage right out front. He remembered what I’d told him about my fantasy date.
“I promised you a ride in one of these a long time ago, before I botched that date night. I’m making up for it now. I’m making up for a lot of things.”
Hollis took my hand and helped me in.
I leaned my head against him, and we enjoyed the ride while the sun began to set. The smell of the horses was quite…robust. But that didn’t stop my bliss. Things were quiet aside from the sounds of traffic and hooves clicking against the concrete.
Hollis turned to me at one point and asked, “Elodie, can I have your attention?”
“Of course.”
He swallowed, seeming nervous. “I don’t want you to believe for a second that my being distant had anything to do with doubts about you. The love I had for Anna is different than the love I have for you. And the knowledge that she still loved me when she ended things all those years ago doesn’t take away from how very much I love you.”
“Thank you for clarifying that. Although I never felt like it was a competition.”
He placed his hand on my chin and directed my eyes toward his. “My feelings for you are unprecedented, Elodie. I do love Anna, and I always will, but most of all, I love her for bringing me you. I don’t want to waste a single day more contemplating the meaning of anything. I just want to be the man you deserve and show you every day how much you mean to me.”
Those words would have been enough to last a lifetime, but then he stunned me by reaching into his pocket and taking out a ring box.
“What is that?” I covered my mouth. My heartbeat accelerated. “What are you doing?”
He opened it, displaying a massive diamond set between two smaller stones.
“I know this seems crazy—to go from being so withdrawn to this—but hear me out,” he said.
Truly shocked, I placed my hand on my chest. “Oh my God, Hollis.”
Is this really happening?
“Today when I was leaving the hospital, on my way home to you, I saw a rainbow. I believe it was Anna, her presence. I kept walking toward it until it finally disappeared. And the moment I couldn’t see it anymore, I realized I was in front of a jewelry store. Was it a sign? I don’t know. But here’s the thing: I didn’t care if it was a sign. I was looking for any excuse at that point to do what I’ve wanted to do from the moment we first got together. I don’t want to waste any more time. I want to start a life with you, Elodie. I want to rub your feet while you watch Turkish soap operas I don’t understand. I want to sleep next to you every night. I want to go all-in. This ring isn’t about rushing out and getting married tomorrow. This is about my commitment to you, a reminder when you look down at it that my heart belongs to you, fully and wholly, and not to anyone else. I don’t want you to ever question that again.”
His hand trembled a bit. “So…will you marry me...someday…when you’re ready?”
Tears sprang to my eyes as I nodded with great enthusiasm. “Yes! I will marry you…someday…tomorrow…or today. Whenever you want me.”
Our lips smashed together, but the moment was interrupted when the carriage stopped short. The horses had nearly crashed into the back of a cab.
The driver shouted back at us, “Everything is okay! Near miss, but we’re fine!”
“We’re used to accidents,” Hollis cracked. “In fact, that’s how we met. She crashed into me.”
“Actually…” I corrected. “He backed into me.”
Epilogue
* * *
Hollis – 2 years later
There was a knock at the door. As Elodie went to answer it, I admired the jiggle of her ass.
“Are we expecting someone?” I asked.
“Not that I know of.”
When she opened the door, a man stood there with a huge bouquet of flowers.
“Delivery for you, ma’am.”
“Oh wow. Thank you.”
After the door closed, she placed the flowers on the kitchen counter and read the note to herself. She laughed before handing me the card.
Elodie, you’ve come a long way. You went from trapping bad men to creating future good ones. Belated congratulations on your son.
–Soren
P.S. If you ever want to come back to work for me, I’d make a great babysitter.
“Fat chance of that ever happening, you dick.” I laughed and tossed the note.
I could never imagine letting my wife go back to that line of work. I’d end up in jail.
“Well, that was very nice of him, anyway,” she said.
Our three-month-old baby son lay on his stomach atop my chest. He stretched his little neck to see all around him. Ben—short for Benson, Anna’s last name—had my brown hair and nose but Elodie’s eyes. He was a true mix of us. I’d taken two weeks off to be with them, and today was the last day of my vacation. I wouldn’t have minded spending every day with these two and not ever going back to work again. Gone were my workaholic days. Now I ran out of the office when the clock struck five most nights to get home to my family.
We still lived in the same apartment but had converted the guest room into a nursery. Not only were we adjusting to life with a newborn, we were now dealing with a teenager. Hailey still lived with us, and hopefully that would be the case forever. After my brother was released from prison, he disappeared. He’d written us a letter, though, shortly before his release, asking if we’d be willing to take Hailey indefinitely. I was totally relieved. I didn’t want to have to fight him. And although she worried about her dad, Hailey was thrilled to live with us permanently.
Speaking of the devil, Hailey waltzed into the living room. My eyes widened when I got a look at what she was wearing—a cutoff shirt.
“Where do you think you’re going dressed like that?”
“To the movies.”
“With whom?”
“Kelsie.”
Somehow, I was skeptical. “That’s it?”
“And Evan.”
“Evan?”
“Elodie knows.”
I looked at my wife. “Care to explain?”
“I’ve met Evan and his mom. He’s a nice kid.” Elodie shrugged. “I told her she couldn’t go alone with him, though. She had to bring Kelsie along.”
This can’t be starting already. “How old is he?”
“Fourteen,” Hailey answered.
I thought back to the chronic masturbator I had been at that age and cringed.
“Go put on a different shirt,” I ordered.
She huffed, but she returned to her room. It was a rarity that she didn’t argue with me.
After Hailey left for the movies, Elodie and I continued hanging out with our son on the floor. He had one of those playmats with toys hanging from it, and he was now kicking his legs around. Both of us were concerned because the poor little guy hadn’t pooped in days. We were on what we’d dubbed “poop watch.” If he didn’t go tonight, we planned to take him first thing in the morning to the pediatrician.
After about an hour of floor time, we noticed baby Ben got the look on his face that usually meant he was about to push something out.
“Oh my gosh! This might be it!” Elodie beamed.
Ben’s face turned beet red, and it looked like his eyes were bugging out of his head. He grunted.
“It’s happening,” I said.
And then came the sound o
f the explosion.
Elodie picked him up off the floor and ran to the nursery to assess the situation.
Several seconds later, I heard her yell from down the hall. “Ben made the motherlode! The motherlode!”
I ran to the room and said, “Let me do the honors.”
“No, I’m just so relieved he did it that I don’t even mind changing it.”
She handed me the dirty diaper, and I disposed of it in the pail.
Elodie got him changed and dressed in a clean sleeper. She handed him to me, and I lifted him up in the air as we danced around with him. This was what my life had come to—dancing in celebration of a bowel movement. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
We returned to the living room with our freshly changed son, who surely must have felt lighter after that.
Baaa. “Ben made the motherlode!”
“Did you hear that?”
Elodie walked over to the bird’s cage. “Huey, what did you just say?”
He was silent.
Just when she’d given up and turned away, he squawked. Baaa. “Ben made the motherlode!”
“Oh, man.” I laughed. “Are you serious?”
“You think it will stick?” she asked.
“Well, his last saying only lasted an entire decade.”
I hoped Anna was looking down right now and laughing her ass off.
Free for Our Readers!
* * *
Dear Readers,
We hope you’ve enjoyed reading Park Avenue Player. As a thank you to our readers, we have TWO free stories for you, both available exclusively to our mailing list subscribers.
Dry Spell is a short story—a fun, twenty-minute beach, bath or bedtime read.
and
Jaded and Tyed is a novelette—meant to be read in an hour or two. It’s perfect for anytime!
Click to sign up now, and you’ll receive back these exclusive stories.
Acknowledgements
* * *
We are eternally grateful to all of the bloggers who enthusiastically spread the news about our books and persist even as it becomes harder and harder to be seen on social media. Thank you for all of your continued hard work and for helping to introduce us to readers who may otherwise never have heard of us.
To Julie – Thank you for always being one click away. We are so lucky to have your friendship, daily support, and encouragement.
To Luna – Our right hand woman. We know we can count on you for anything and appreciate your friendship and help so much.
To our agent, Kimberly Brower – We’re so excited for the year ahead and are grateful that you will be there with us every step of the way. We are so lucky to call you a friend as well as an agent.
To Jessica – It’s always a pleasure working with you as our editor. Thank you for cleaning up our manuscripts so nicely.
To Eda & Julie – Your eagle eyes and attention to detail is so appreciated. Thank you for helping make Hollis and Elodie the best that they could be.
To Elaine – An amazing editor, proofer, formatter, and friend. We so appreciate you!
To Letitia – Thank you for your patience with this one!
To Brooke – Thank you for organizing this release and for taking some of the load off of our endless to-do lists each day.
Last but not least, to our readers – We keep writing because of your hunger for our stories. We love surprising you and hope you enjoyed this book as much as we did writing it. Thank you as always for your enthusiasm, love and loyalty. We cherish you!
Much love,
Penelope and Vi
Other Books by Penelope Ward & Vi Keeland
* * *
COCKY BASTARD
New York Times and USA TODAY Bestseller
STUCK-UP SUIT
New York Times, USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller
PLAYBOY PILOT
New York Times and USA TODAY Bestseller
MISTER MONEYBAGS
New York Times, USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller
BRITISH BEDMATE
USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller
REBEL HEIR
New York Times, USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller
REBEL HEART
New York Times, USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller
HATE NOTES
#1 Amazon Bestseller and Wall Street Journal Bestseller
DIRTY LETTERS
(Coming November 5, 2019)
Other Books by Penelope Ward
* * *
THE DAY HE CAME BACK
USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller
WHEN AUGUST ENDS
New York Times, USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller
LOVE ONLINE
USA TODAY Bestseller
GENTLEMAN NINE
New York Times, USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller
DRUNK DIAL
New York Times, USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller
MACK DADDY
USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller
ROOMHATE
New York Times, USA TODAY and #1 Wall Street Journal Bestseller
STEPBROTHER DEAREST
New York Times, USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller
NEIGHBOR DEAREST
New York Times, USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller
JADED AND TYED (A NOVELETTE)
SINS OF SEVIN
USA TODAY Bestseller
JAKE UNDONE (JAKE #1)
JAKE UNDERSTOOD (JAKE #2)
MY SKYLAR
USA TODAY Bestseller
GEMINI
Other Books by Vi Keeland
* * *
Standalone novels
ALL GROWN UP
USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller
WE SHOULDN’T
New York Times, USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller
THE NAKED TRUTH
New York Times, USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller
SEX, NOT LOVE
New York Times, USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller
BEAUTIFUL MISTAKE
New York Times, USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller
EGOMANIAC
New York Times, USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller
BOSSMAN
#1 New York Times, #1 Wall Street Journal and USA TODAY Bestseller
THE BALLER
New York Times, USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller
Life on Stage series (2 standalone books)
BEAT
USA TODAY Bestseller
THROB
USA TODAY Bestseller
MMA Fighter series (3 standalone books)
WORTH THE FIGHT
New York Times and USA TODAY Bestseller
WORTH THE CHANCE
USA TODAY Bestseller
WORTH FORGIVING
USA TODAY Bestseller
The Cole Series (2 book serial)
BELONG TO YOU
USA TODAY Bestseller
MADE FOR YOU
USA TODAY Bestseller
YA/NA novel
LEFT BEHIND
Connect with the Authors
* * *
Enjoy, Park Avenue Player? Then connect with the authors!
Join Penelope Ward’s reading group
Join Vi Keeland’s reading group
Follow Penelope Ward on Instagram
Follow Vi Keeland on Instagram
Check out Penelope Ward’s website
Check out Vi Keeland’s website
Before you go, we invite you to read the first chapter of Stuck-Up Suit, a blockbuster standalone that spent four weeks on the New York Times!
Chapter 1
* * *
Soraya
My right foot stepped onto the train, and I froze mid-step spotting him already in the car. Shit! He was sitting across from my usual seat. I backed
up.
“Hey, watch where you’re going!” A suit bobbled his coffee, barely keeping it upright as I reversed out of the third car without looking and smashed into him. “What the hell?”
“Sorry!” I offered a fleeting apology and kept going, ducking down below the train’s window as I ran down the platform a few cars. The small lights next to each door began to flash red, and a loud buzzer sounded signaling the train was about to depart. I jumped into car seven just as the doors started to slide closed.
It took a full minute to catch my breath from running the length of four train cars. My ass definitely needed to get back to the gym. I found a block of four seats, two rows facing each other, and sat in one of the empty three seats. The man lowered his paper as I settled in next to him. “Sorry,” I offered. “I can’t ride backward.” The two empty seats across from him were empty. Proper train etiquette would have been to take one of those, but I figured he preferred cozy seating to vomit.
Park Avenue Player Page 32