Perfect Love Story (Love Series Book 1)

by Natasha Madison

  I love her. I do, completely and utterly love her. I don’t know when it happened—fuck that, I know exactly when it happened. When I saw her sitting on the cold beach watching the water, day in and day out. I would take walks, see her, and turn around, then I would spot her sitting and watch her. Watching the same water she watched. Seeing the waves crash into shore, I would gaze ahead at the water, but my mind watched her. I let go of my hatred. I let go of my anger, and I let my guard down.

  The night I sat with her, I let go of Julia, and I let go of the future I thought we would have. I let go of the promises I made her … I let go of that part of me. Except with Hailey, that part turned over twice, and it made me see that sometimes no matter how you plan things, how you map it out, life has twists and turns. Sometimes what you think you want isn’t what you deserve.

  I deserve a woman who will love me and only me. I deserve a woman who wants a life with me, who craves a life with me. Who will put me before her. That is what I deserve. I deserve that perfect love story.

  “Ready.” I hear Hailey’s voice as she walks into the room from her bedroom. Her flowered skirt flows around her legs; her short sleeved white silk shirt tucked in. She is wearing another pair of high heels, but my eyes go to her face.

  Her hair pinned back at the side; her eyes shine. There is no sadness there, no emptiness like before. Gone is that girl who first sat on the beach watching the water with all the questions and no answers, and in its place is a woman who is so breathtakingly beautiful my heart skips a beat when she walks into the room. A woman who got her heart ripped out yet is still standing here.

  “What’s the matter?” she asks me, coming closer to me, her hands going to my waist. “You okay?”

  I push her hair from her shoulder to the back, so I can kiss her neck. “I’m fine,” I say, and it’s not a lie. “I used to watch you.”

  Her eyes look at me confused. “When you would sit outside, at night, during the day. I used to walk down the beach, see you, and stop.” My thumb rubs her pink cheek. “I used to sit and watch the water with you, watch you as you worked through your storm inside.”

  “I,” she says softly, my finger stopping her from talking.

  “The first time I saw you, I thought you were so beautiful. But you looked broken; your eyes looked dim, the light gone.”

  I can’t go on without kissing her, so I lean in and kiss her lightly. Her lip gloss stays on my lips. “But each time you left that beach, you got more beautiful, which, to be honest, I didn’t think could happen.”

  Her thumb comes up to wipe my lips. “I was broken.” She starts to talk. “I was empty; there was nothing left to me.”

  “I know, and the sad thing is so was I.” I shake my head. “I had the best kid you could ever hope for, I had a successful business, I had a family who loved and supported me, but I was empty.”

  I smile at her. “I was. I’m not anymore.”

  “What do you mean?” She looks at me.

  “You … you made me whole again. This thing with us, it started with me wanting to be your friend, it started with two broken people on the beach asking for answers we weren’t going to get.” I kiss her. “Or we were each other’s answers. We were the answers to each other’s questions.”

  “Jensen.” A tear rolls down her cheek.

  “I love you,” I finally tell her, causing her breath to hitch. “I love you.” Another tear falls from her eyes. “More than I thought I could love anyone else besides Mila.” I smile as the heaviness from before vanishes.

  “I don’t …” she starts saying.

  “You don’t have to say anything.” I lean in to kiss her lips. “I just wanted to tell you. Now, let’s go because we are going to be really, really late,” I joke.

  “You’d better call and tell them we will be by later.” She turns to walk away from me as I stare at her. “I love you.” I stand and am about to say something when she holds her hand up. “You had your time; this is mine.”

  I cross my arms over my chest, watching her look at me. “Okay.”

  “The worst day of my life was when my husband died because I thought I would die with him. It was a pain that seared through me to my soul. I collapsed in the middle of the hospital to my knees. I asked God to take me too. To take me so I could be with him.” She wipes a tear away as anger and fear fills me at the thought of her not being here. “Then the second worst day of my life was finding out that my life was a lie. That everything I thought was real wasn’t but a mirage of what life was supposed to be like.”

  “He was a fool.” The words come out.

  “For one month, I couldn’t sleep until I passed out drunk.” She wrings her hands together. “That is how weak I was. I got drunk so I could stop the thoughts, so the memories of us were too blurry for me to remember.” Her hand goes to her stomach. “Just thinking back, it makes me sick that I gave him that much more power over me.”

  “You did what you needed to do to survive,” I tell her as she blinks. The tears falling now, one after another.

  “My grandmother came to visit me, showing me a picture of this house. It was the day my life started again. The swings in the front and the back pulled me here.” She laughs. “The picture was a bit deceiving since the house was falling apart when I got here, but the minute I stepped out of the car, I started to breathe again. The weight that had crushed my chest for so long was lifting, slowly. I would sit on that swing in the back at night when I couldn’t sleep at the beginning, watching the ocean fight its own storm. Seeing the contrast of the calm water out on the horizon and then hearing the waves crash onto the shore. It was my life.”

  “You are stronger than you think you are,” I tell her, making sure she knows.

  “I am, and I know that now. I know that because I had to have the two worst days of my life to have the best days of my life to come.” Her body goes tall. “I sat on that beach every single day looking for answers, asking questions that no one would be able to answer, because the one person in the world who could answer them wasn’t here.” She looks down and then up. “Then the answer came to me, you.” She sobs. “You, you were the answer all along.”

  I rush to her, grabbing her face and crushing her lips with mine to swallow the sobs as I hold her. Her hand grips my shirt, holding me as much as I’m holding her. She starts unbuttoning my shirt, and my hands pull her shirt over her head. “I love you,” I tell her as I kiss the middle of her chest and feel her heart beating under my lips. “With everything that I am, I love you.”

  I look up as the tears dry, her eyes sparkling. “I love you more,” she whispers. “You, Jensen Walker, are my perfect love story.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Hailey

  Six months later

  It’s going to be a hot one today, I think to myself as I make my way out to the water. My feet sting from the burning sand as I walk closer to the water. It’s going to be a good day. I look at the sun, the heat hitting me right away.

  I watch the water wash up the shore, sitting right where the sand gets dark. The beach is still empty because it’s just after eight a.m. I look at my tanned legs, thinking about how fast the summer is going to be over. We spend all our time outside. In the pool, in the ocean, my uniform this summer was bikini after bikini. Jensen would groan each time I would buy a new one. He actually bought me twenty one-piece swimsuits. They are sitting in the boxes next to the door with the rest of the boxes of my things. My share of the lease expires today, and in twenty minutes, Jensen will be here to load up my stuff to move me in with him.

  We took our time. Well, I took my time. If it was up to Jensen, I would have moved in with him the day he told me he loved me. The day I told him I loved him. The day that turned out to be the best day of my life, but well, since then, there have been many best days, just not as special as that one. I was the one dragging my feet only because I didn’t want to just jump. I wanted to ease Mila into it also, but one day when I wasn’t there, an
d she set the table for the three of us, he called to let me know. I did what anyone would do; I hightailed it over there, and we ate dinner together.

  “I set the table for us. Silly families always eat together” Mila said as soon as I walked through the door, half out of breath from running down the beach through the sand.

  “Thank you for being so helpful,” I told her, leaning down to kiss her head. “Hi there.” I looked over at Jensen, who is taking something out of the oven. I walked into the kitchen; he placed the tray down and approached me.

  “Glad you could make it.” He kissed me, so naturally, with my hands around his waist.

  “I’m going to put some juice boxes on the table,” Mila said coming into the room, not even blinking at me hugging her father and us kissing. She didn’t bat an eye when she woke up in the middle of the night and climbed into bed with us before I snuck out in the morning.

  So now, I sit on the sand, the letter in my back pocket crinkling once I sit. I lean forward and take the letter out of my pocket, looking at the folded white envelope.

  I had forgotten about the letter, finding it only when I started packing my boxes. I look down at the envelope, still not sure I want to open it.

  I look at the water, seeing the calmness in it, the waves crashing softly today, nothing like when I got here.

  I turn the letter over in my hand, my finger sliding under the flap to open it. I pull out the folded white letter and open it up.

  Eric’s writing gets me right away. Messy, always messy, and printed.

  My dear, dear sweet Hailey,

  If you are reading this, it means that I didn’t have the courage to do this while I was still alive.

  I know what you’re thinking. Fuck, I don’t even know what I’m thinking half the time. But I would like to explain.

  The first time I saw you, it was like my world stopped or got knocked around. You are the most beautiful person I have ever met, inside and out.

  I know you are probably wondering why I did what I did, and I wish I had the answer, but I don’t. The only thing I know is that I couldn’t stay away from you.

  I fell in love with two women, and I couldn’t walk away from either of you. I was that selfish bastard you used to always bitch about. Every single time I came home, I told myself I would tell you the truth, but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t let you go. When I was with you, I felt alive so alive.

  I’m sorry for lying to you. I’m sorry for not having the balls to be man enough and deal with whatever it is that would have happened. I’m sorry that in the end you won’t remember me with the love and respect you gave me, but with hurt and sadness.

  I’m sorry I’m not there with the answers, and I’m even more sorry you have to find out with this letter. But I want you to know that I loved you. Fuck, I love you with everything I am.

  Eric

  I wipe the tear from my eye as I fold the letter and put it back in its envelope when I feel him behind me. My strength. “Hi,” I say softly as I feel his arms go around me. I lean back into him and move to the side. Laying my head on his shoulder, I feel him rest his chin on my shoulder.

  “You read it?” he asks, looking down at the letter in my hand.

  “I did,” I answer, looking at the water.

  “You okay?” The way he asks makes me love him even more. For not asking what it contained, but instead, if I was okay. Me.

  “More than okay.” Turning my head, I kiss his cheek. He turns his face, looking into my eyes, and leans forward to kiss my lips. “I love you,” I whisper, turning to look at the water for a couple of more minutes. I get up, putting my hand out to him. “Let’s get me moved out of here.” He takes my hand, getting up.

  “I think we should have a special sleepover party tonight.” He holds my hand as we walk up to the house.

  “Is that so, and what type of party is this?”

  “Well, I think it should be whip cream, chocolate sauce, and definitely naked.” He pulls me to him while I throw my head back and laugh.

  “I think we sort of had this party last month. Do you remember Mila asking why you had chocolate syrup in your room by the bed?”

  He laughs now. “That was your fault. You wore me out, and I couldn’t walk.”

  I push away from him. “I was sticky the whole day.”

  We open the back door to the porch, walking into the house. “Happy get out of my house day,” Crystal yells from the kitchen. We both laugh, walking through my room, or what will be her room as soon as we walk out.

  Crystal decided she isn’t leaving this house, so she renewed the lease. “Good morning.” I look into the kitchen, seeing her drinking coffee standing there. “Are you going to help us move?”

  “Will that make you get out of the house faster?” she asks while I nod my yes with a smile. “Then let’s get this shit in the car.”

  “What time is your roommate moving in?” I hide my smile as she turns and glares at me.

  “I can’t believe you sold him your share of the lease.” Her eyes narrow.

  “What did you expect me to do? His house just burned to the ground.”

  “If Gabe pissed off someone enough that they torched his house, explain to me why it’s safe for him to live with me?” she asks, and I shrug my shoulders.

  “I wanted to help a friend out.”

  “Well, next time you get that feeling, call me, and I’ll talk you out of it.” She points at me. “He gets under my skin,” she tells me.

  “He definitely is under something,” I murmur.

  Walking to the stack of boxes, she picks one up and follows Jensen out. I think of her and Gabe, and I hope at the end of all this, they haven’t killed each other.

  I look around the room, wandering to the fireplace when I notice Crystal put up new pictures. There is one of us two and another of the three of us.

  I grab the matches on the mantel, taking a match out and strike it. Grabbing the letter out of my back pocket, I light it on fire. I see the red flames start to eat up the white envelope, the flames burning orange. I set it down in the fireplace and watch the letter turn to ash.

  I turn around, walking to the pile of boxes. When I pick up a box and make my way out to my future, I have a spring in my step and a smile on my face.

  Epilogue One

  Jensen

  Six months later . . .

  “Dude, you need to chill the fuck out. You’re going to wear a hole in the rug,” Brody says.

  “What if she says no?” I look at him, my heart hammering in my chest.

  “She isn’t going to say no.” Brody gets up. “She’s put up with you for this long, so it’s safe to say she is in for the long haul. Plus, she looks at you like you hang the moon. She sighs when you kiss her, and she is genuinely happy to see you each time.” He walks out of my office.

  I walk to my desk, opening the drawer and taking out the brown leather ring case. “Here goes nothing.” I put it in my pocket and make my way home.

  I walk into the house, and the smell of dinner fills the air. Making my way into the room, I see something that still gets me every single time. Hailey and Mila together. The routine is that Hailey picks Mila up from school, then they do homework together till dinnertime. Then Mila fills Hailey in about everything, and we mean everything, about her day at school.

  So it’s no surprise that I find Hailey cutting bread while she listens to Mila’s story.

  “And then someone farted, and they threw up all over the mat.” She uses her hands to gesture the act of vomiting.

  “Maybe she was sick before?” Hailey looks up, making Mila shake her head. I look around the vast room, taking in the changes since Hailey moved in. The big dark room has light now. The pictures of us scattered around the house. The throw pillows on the big couch and the covers that go with them. Also, the fridge is covered with Mila’s schoolwork she brings home, piles and piles of paper. I shake my head. “Hey, girls.” I smile, walking to my daughter, and kiss her head, then
go around the island to my woman, mine.

  Hailey sets the knife down and turns around to greet me with a smile plastered on her face. Her hands go around my neck. “Hi, handsome.” My hands bring her close to me while her lips touch mine.

  “Dinner’s almost done.” She turns back around to finish cutting the bread. “I made a pasta bake.” She cooks every single night except Saturday; that is our pizza night.

  “Great, I’m going to go wash up.” I walk to our bedroom, taking in the changes there also. The brown cover is gone, replaced with a light gray one, and more throw pillows that always get tossed on the floor. Pictures of us are everywhere; my girl never misses a picture moment. But my favorite picture of us is the one that Mila took. It is the two of us on the beach, her sitting in front of me, both of us just looking at the water. It’s our thing. I take the ring out of my pocket, thinking about how am I going to do this. Putting it in the drawer by my bed, I take a shower before she starts calling for me.

  By the time I walk back out, the table is set for the three of us. Mila sits in her chair to my right, and Hailey sits on my left.

  “Hailey,” Mila shouts, “Poppa is clean.”

  We sit at the table, telling each other about our day. I hear the vomit story again. Bath time and bedtime go by at a snail’s pace. It feels like forever until Mila finally falls asleep. I find Hailey wrapping Christmas presents in our room.

  “You know that the gifts will cover most of the tree right?” I ask her.

  “I know, but it’s our first Christmas sharing a home, and my family is going to be here. So I want it perfect.” She smiles at me.

  “Come with me.” I grab her hand and walk to the back door leading to the ocean.

  “Where are we going?” she asks surprised when I start walking toward the beach. “Jensen, we won’t hear Mila.” She stops in her tracks, not moving another step.