“Oh my goodness,” Sierra says, slowly walking into the living room. “Dad, did you lose Ethan again?”
“Here I am!” our son says, popping up from the pillows.
“Whoa!” I say and bring my hands to my face. “Where did you come from?”
“Again, Daddy, again!” the toddler giggles. He puts his face into the pillows and chants you can’t see me over and over.
I bury him in pillows again and sit on the couch. “I’m tired and need to lay down. This pile of pillows looks comfy.” I pretend to fluff up the pillows, and Ethan erupts in laughter. “Wait a minute. Why is my pillow laughing?”
“I’m not a pillow! I’m not a pillow!”
“Why are the pillows talking? What is going on? Hey!” I move the pillows and lift Ethan up in the air. “You’re not a pillow!” I kiss his cheeks and he tries to blow raspberries on my arm, which just leaves a trail of slobber. The second his feet hit the floor he takes off, running full-speed at Sierra.
“Mommy!”
“Careful, buddy!” I say. “You don’t want to hurt your sister!”
“Maybe you’ll make her come out,” Sierra says with a groan. She’s two days past her due date and is miserable. She kisses Ethan’s cheeks and hugs him tight. “Dinner’s ready, boys.”
I hold out a hand and help her to her feet. Not a second after she’s up, Sierra sits back down again.
“Ow.” Her hands fly to her large belly.
“Did you just have another contraction?”
“Yeah. We should probably eat. Now.”
“Maybe we should call your mom. You had a fast labor last time.”
“Not yet. They’re still too far apart.” She takes my hand and lets me help her to the table. She doesn’t make it to her chair before she pitches forward. “Okay. Call her.”
In somewhat of a panic, I rush around the house. We moved a few months ago into this house. It’s big and brand-new, built on the Belmont family property. The river runs through our backyard and it’s perfect.
I get Sierra’s hospital bag, Ethan’s overnight bag, and the bag packed for our daughter, Emma. I call Mrs. Belmont to let her know to meet us at the hospital. Then I pack up Ethan and help Sierra to the car. I’m more nervous than she is and am half convinced we waited too long and Sierra’s going to have this baby in the car.
She’s contracting every two minutes by the time we get to the hospital, and Ethan cried the last quarter of the drive, not understanding what’s going on or why Mommy is in pain.
Only three-and-a-half hours after getting checked into labor and delivery, our daughter is born. She’s nineteen inches and six-and-a-half pounds of perfection.
“I don’t remember Ethan being this little,” I say, taking my daughter in my arms.
“I was thinking the same thing,” Sierra agrees. “She’s so little and cute.” Sierra’s eyes fill with tears. “She’s so perfect.”
“She is.” I kiss her soft cheeks and put her back in Sierra’s arms, going into the waiting room to get Ethan. Holding his hand, we go back into the delivery room. He stops at the foot of the bed, staring at the little bundle in Sierra’s arms.
Then he smiles and climbs up, eager to meet his sister.
“Hi,” he says. Emma opens her mouth. “She said hi! Can I hold her?”
“Let me help you,” I say and pick Ethan up. We sit on the bed, and I put a pillow in his lap. Carefully, Sierra lays Emma on his lap, keeping a hold of her head. Ethan grins and bends down to kiss her.
“She tastes like a baby,” he says and we laugh. I lean in, putting my arm around Ethan and Sierra. I look down at my family. We’re an hour from our house, but sitting here together, I feel at home.
Acknowledgments
Chase and Sierra have been begging me to write their story for well over a year now, and once I finally set out to write it, I couldn’t stop. I love this story so much, and am so thankful for my amazing friends in the book world who share the love of One Call Away right along with me.
Christine Stanley, TL Smith, Kristin Mayer, Erin Hayes, and Crystal Gizzard Brunette: thank you for your abundance of support and optimism over this book. You never lost patience with me and my (many) moments of panic while getting this book ready for publication.
Felicia, Theresa, Michelle, Paige, Lisa, Debby, Paula, Colleen, and Franci: You ladies are the best beta team an author could ask for. There are no words to express how grateful I am to have you on my side.
To all the bloggers and bookstagrammers who took the time to read, review, and post about One Call Away: Thank you times a thousand. I’m blown away and humbled each and every time you decide to pick up my book.
And to my family and friends: thank you for helping me follow my dreams, for offering encouragement, and bringing me wine when it’s most needed.
About the Author
Emily Goodwin is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of over a dozen of romantic titles. Emily writes the kind of books she likes to read, and is a sucker for a swoon-worthy bad boy and happily ever afters.
She lives in the midwest with her husband and two daughters. When she's not writing, you can find her riding her horses, hiking, reading, or drinking wine with friends.
Emily is represented by Julie Gwinn of the Seymour Agency.
www.emilygoodwinbooks.com
[email protected]
White Lies by Kristin Mayer
Copyright © 2016 by Kristin Mayer
Published by K. Mayer Enterprises, INC.
View my website at www.authorkristinmayer.com
Book cover JM Walker with Just write. Creations
Interior Designer:
Editor: Nichole Strauss with Perfectly Publishable
Editor: Jen Matera at Write Diva
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system without written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Visit my website at http://www.authorkristinmayer.com
ISBN-13:
White Lies by Kristin Mayer
Chapter One
The morning light kissed my skin as I stirred. The scent of his outdoorsy cologne brought a smile to my face as the memories of last night flashed through my mind.
Alex showed up after our fight—he came for me.
Me.
Through his kisses, I knew I still mattered. It was as if something awakened his need for me again… something that had been forgotten since we’d married.
I loved him.
He loved me.
We would figure everything out.
Last night was perfect; I treasured each memory. Each touch. Each murmured I love you. Through the night, he’d held me close. It felt like old times when we’d first met. My eyes fluttered open, and I turned over, ready to greet the love of my life.
The bed was empty.
Alex was gone.
Heart racing, I abruptly sat up. Had I imagined everything last night? Maybe he needed the bathroom. Impossible for last night to be a dream. No way. The connection I'd felt was too real, like our bodies connecting on a molecular level. From the moment I saw him, I was consumed. Nothing else mattered except Alex and me. I believed he felt the same way; I knew he came to talk, but our bodies demanded something else. From the instant our hands touched, the moment had enveloped us, all thoughts dissipating except for the need to have each other.
I stood still as I strained to listen for a sign of my husband in the room.
Nothing.
A defeated sigh left my lips. Why had he left? Last night had been incred
ible… the way it had been between us when we first fell in love, before Alex had been deployed. Alex had been in the military since he was eighteen until he was medically discharged seven months ago at twenty-seven.
I touched my lips, still swollen from our kisses. Last night, right before I touched him, Alex had begun to say something before he smashed his lips to mine. Had he changed his mind from what he was going to say?
I wasn’t sure.
The soreness between my legs confirmed my memories were real and not the dreams I normally had—wishing for what was lost between us. Last night Alex hadn’t been aloof or distant; he’d loved and wanted me. Me. I'd been enough.
The eerie silence served as a reminder that he’d left without a word.
“I’m such a fool.” The words echoed off the walls, mocking me.
This was probably payback for me leaving after our fight yesterday. Alex was cruel at times—playing emotional games, and I was done. Yesterday, I had finally reached that point and left the estate in the Hamptons to check into a hotel room in New York City.
On the way into the city, I'd made plans to meet with my lawyer midmorning to talk about a legal separation.
Our fight was the same it had been since shortly after getting married six months ago—Alex wanted me to talk to Nonno, my grandfather, about giving me control of my trust fund. I refused. Being my dad’s father, Nonno knew what Dad would have wanted. The trust set up by Dad gave Nonno the discretion to manage the funds and not hand over control until I turned thirty. At that time, the money automatically transferred to me.
That was still six years away.
The large inheritance totaled in the millions. Dad had made his money through good investments and his art. His side of the family had always been fairly wealthy, but he had taken it to a whole new level. His paintings were featured all over the world, including the Louvre in Paris. Money would never be an issue for me. I had plenty to live off. More than plenty. Nonno made sure, and I was thankful for the life I was blessed with.
I knew from when the trust was initially established that Dad simply wanted me to be ready to carry the burden of what large sums of money brought. It took a toll on people. I had seen it in high school with some of my friends. Sometimes it changed them… for the worst. The last thing I wanted was to be affected the same way. I never wanted to lose my morals.
Thank goodness Dad and I had discussed doing a prenup. Dad had it drawn up shortly after Alex and I met. We’d talked about it after he left. At first, I was hesitant about the whole prenup thing. When you married someone, it was supposed to be the merging of two lives into one. A prenup seemed to have the possibility to create a gulf between two people. In the end, Dad left the decision to me. I'd gone with my gut and asked Alex to sign it, which he did without any argument.
When he believed I was ready, Nonno would hand over my trust. I trusted him. My dad trusted him. I had faith Nonno had my best interests at heart and would know the right time.
My blood boiled remembering my fight with Alex yesterday. I was furious, thinking he only married me for the money. The thought had crossed my mind a couple of months after we married that he’d manipulated me in the beginning of our relationship.
But… something held me back from believing it entirely as I knew deep down our love started out pure before something changed. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what to think at times.
None of it made sense.
Last night, I thought we were done for sure until, after crying in my hotel room for half an hour, Alex showed up. Came after me. Apologized for not protecting me. All he wanted was to focus on us at the moment. Nothing else mattered. He told me we would talk through it all today.
Confusion filled me.
Today was here… and he was gone.
Cradling my head in my hands, I moved the gold down blanket, revealing a piece of paper. I heaved a sigh of relief at the familiar script.
Sorry, I had to leave before you woke. There are a few things I need to take care of for us. I’ll see you tonight.
I love you, Willow. I never stopped.
Tracing my fingers over his words, I grinned. I felt bad for doubting him. It was easier to believe the bad over the good these days after all the events from the last six months. But maybe… just maybe, this time was different.
Things could have been different if it hadn’t been for his last mission overseas. When he came back, I sensed something was off, but he hid it well. It wasn’t until after we married that I realized how much he’d changed. War had that effect on people, which was understandable. We’d married so fast when he came back.
Too fast.
As I came to find out, Alex blamed himself for the death of someone in his unit. He told me his thoughts had been consumed with returning home… to me, versus keeping his men safe. Essentially, as per him, it was my fault. If only I’d known prior to marrying him. By nature, I refused to quit. That was why I stayed with him longer than any sane person would have.
Though I knew things would be tough, I hoped the love we shared would be enough to get us through. At first it was… then it wasn’t.
I glanced down at the note again. The words were like a beacon. A new hope blossomed in my chest. I chased away the negative thoughts that reared their ugly heads with the memories from our fight. I loved my husband. Finding what we had was worth one more shot. Clutching the note to my chest, I giggled. There was no stopping the sound as I thought about our whispered words when he made love to me.
I love you, Willow. I never stopped.
I love you, too. I never stopped. I never lost hope. I knew we would find our way back to each other.
As I thought back to last night, I held onto the belief we had broken through.
***
A hand trailed up my back as Alex held me. Goose bumps formed in the wake of his touch as I lay on his chest in the darkened hotel room. My fingers traced the military tattoo on his chest I couldn't see but knew was there. The two knives intercepting each other with the inscription I will not accept defeat were over his heart.
“I miss this. Being together tonight feels like when we first started dating. I’m sorry I called you Gabe earlier. I know how you hate that. Old habits.”
My husband’s full name was Gabriel Alexander Thompson. All of his friends called him Gabriel when we first met while I was in college. He was on leave from the military. It had been a chance meeting in a random town as I crossed a street. Fate happened, bringing two people who were meant for each other together. Though I'd tried to take things slow, something between us clicked, and I fell madly in love with him before I realized it. Honestly, it was insane how fast we fell in love. Maybe too fast. But I don’t believe I could have stopped it if I tried.
On our first date, I called him Gabe, and it stuck. At least until he asked me to call him Alex shortly after returning from his last military mission. All of his friends who died overseas called him Gabriel, and it was hard for him to hear a shortened version. I got needing to distance yourself completely from painful reminders. I hadn’t been to Italy since Dad died for that very reason.
The muscles in Alex’s body tightened and then released while he dragged his right hand through his dark hair. Even in the dark, I felt his emerald eyes watching me. His voice was strained when he finally spoke. “Sweetheart, we’re going to find our way back to each other. We’ll get back to the place when we were Gabe and Willow, not Alex and Willow. I’m working through it. I promise you, I’ll never upset you again like I did this afternoon when I found you.”
I kissed his chest and then sighed. “I’m not going to Nonno to try and get him to release my trust. It’s not what Dad would have wanted. We have plenty to live on. I don’t want to fight, but that point I’m not budging on.”
Fingers paused on my back before continuing. I braced myself for the anger to return. “It’s your decision. I’ll respect that.” A small victory—a step in the right direction.
After kissing h
im again, I laid my ear against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. “We might want to think about couple’s therapy. When you came back after leaving the military, something has been missing. It might help us get a new start. I want to make this work.”
“That’s what I want too—a fresh start. For us.”
I smiled at his words. “Thank you for coming back to me.”
“I promised I always would.”
***
The memory was beautiful. Magical. Through the night, Alex woke me up twice to make love to me. Love. It was the key to everything. For now, I would focus on the memories of last night in order to hold on to hope to save my marriage until I saw him again. I read his words again. I love you, Willow. I never stopped.
Inspiration struck.
I needed to get home.
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One Call Away Page 34