by Sienna Parks
“Okay, girls. Time for the surprise! You ready? Just like we practiced…”
“Yes, Momma.” Rae takes hold of Ruby’s hand.
“On the count of three. One… two… three…” I’m captivated by my girls. Their love for each other shining through.
“Momma is making us a baby brother!” I obviously didn’t hear them properly. A.B. and I tried to have a baby for three years. We saw every specialist in the state and did two rounds of IVF. They assured us that we would never conceive. I look to A.B. in disbelief.
“What are they talking about? Did you hear back from the adoption agency about a little boy?” I pull her into my arms. “This is so exciting. I want to know everything.”
“No, Daddy! Momma is making him, in her tummy.” A.B.’s eyes well with tears. “Tell him, Momma.”
“They’re right, Mad. I’m pregnant!”
“But… we can’t.”
“I didn’t want to say anything until I got through the first trimester. I went to my OB yesterday and she said I’m doing great. Baby is healthy, and I should be able to carry him to term.”
“Him?”
“It’s a boy, Mad. You’re going to have a son.” I have never felt such a rush of emotion in all my life. I drop to my knees in front of her, my hands resting gently on her stomach.
“We’re going to have a baby.” The girls jump on my back, wrapping their arms around my neck.
“We’re getting a baby brother!” I gaze at the imperceptible bump of my wife’s stomach.
“You’re not showing. How did you keep this a secret?”
“I was so scared I would lose him. I think I didn’t want to say it out loud in case it stopped being real.” My heart lurches into my throat, the realization that this could be dangerous for her health, filling me with fear.
“Are you okay? What about you? Your health? Is this safe? I can’t risk losing you, A.B.” She drops to her knees beside me, clasping my face in her hands. I can’t hold back the silent tears that spill over her fingers.
“I’m better than okay. Our daughters are going to have a brother.”
“Why are you crying, Daddy?” I pull Ruby Jo and Rae into the middle of our embrace, squeezing them tight.
“They’re happy tears. You have the most amazing momma in the world, and I feel like the luckiest man alive right now. I have two beautiful daughters, and our little family is getting bigger.”
“Momma has a name picked out and everything.”
“Lay it on me.” I don’t care what we call this baby, I’m just so thrilled that A.B. is getting to experience pregnancy. It’s the one dream of hers that I’ve been unable to fulfil… until now. And let’s face it, my contribution was minimal. She’s the amazing one.
“Robert Clark Hale. Bobby for short.”
“You serious?” I look to her with love and adoration, her selfless heart more beautiful than ever.
“Of course. I can’t think of a better way to honor your dad.”
“No matter how well I think I know you, you always find ways to surprise me. I love you so much I can hardly breathe, Annabeth Hale.”
As the sun sets over Mustang, A.B. and I sit together on the porch, watching as our girls run wild and free in the fields that raised us. I take a moment to sit back and thank my lucky stars for this amazing life, my wife, and for the courage to take a second chance on love.
On January 2nd at 12:56 P.M., Robert Clark Hale was born weighing 8 lbs. 3 ozs. - looking just like his granddaddy.
About The Author
“I'm happiest when wandering through the unchartered territory of my imagination. You'll find me curled up with my laptop, browsing the books at the local library, or enjoying the smell of a new book, taking great delight in cracking the spine and writing in the margins!”
Sienna is a native Scot, but lives in Texas with her husband, two kids, and a whizzy little fur baby with the most ridiculous ears. She first fell in love with British Literature while majoring in Linguistics, 17th Century Poetry, and Shakespeare at University. She is an avid reader and lifelong notebook hoarder. In 2014, she finally put her extensive collection to good use and started writing her first novel. Sienna is now a writer with Prism Heart Press, and is currently working on some exciting new projects.
All The Thanks
The biggest thanks goes to my husband. You’ve taught me what true love and romance really is. Your belief in me is more than I could ever wish for. You are an amazing daddy, husband, and friend. I love you with all of my heart. Thank you so much for the wonderful gift of our life together.
Jaye – My #SDS. Your understanding of my ‘quirks’ is such a breath of fresh air. You get it. Without you, this book would never have been written. Our friendship means more to me than I could ever express. You’re my Wonder Woman! I love you, friend.
Maria – To see my characters through your eyes is a gift. You’ve been there through the good, the bad, and the ugly of my writing. Your faith in me never wavered. There are no words to tell you how grateful I am to have met you. I love you more.
Patty – Thank you for understanding the fine line of sanity I tightrope walk on a daily basis. Your belief in my writing inspires me to work hard and let my imagination run wild.
To my Goldilocks girls – You know who you are. I could not have gotten through the past year without your love and support. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I love you all.
To my Betas – Diana, Gail, Gemma, Lisa, and Mandy – Y’all are rock stars! What a wonderful group of women to work with. I feel so blessed to have you all in my life. Your love for Maddox made me strive to write from the heart. Thank you so much!
To my Readers – Your support of my work means everything to me. I’m living the dream… in my PJs, with my fur baby by my side. Thank you for taking the time to read and review my books. You make me a very happy author girl!
Facebook:
www.facebook.com/authorsiennaparks
Like Prism Heart Press on Facebook
Click here to join the Prism Heart Press Newsletter to be notified of sales and upcoming new releases from all of our Prism Heart Press authors!
Page ahead to read Bonus Book One
COPYRIGHT 2017 PRISM HEART PRESS
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
COVER DESIGN: Pink Ink Designs
EDITING: Rebelle Editing
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or, if an actual place, are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control and does not assume and responsibility for author or third-party websites or their contents.
E-books are not transferrable. They cannot be sold, given away, or shared. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to or downloaded from file sharing sites, or distributed in any other way via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in Federal prison and a fine of $250,000 (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr).
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
To Brandon Redgrave:
You inspired me to write.
I met my soulmate on an average Monday, on my way to the library at Columbia University, just after picking up a coffee with my best friend and roommate Addi. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that your life can change in the blink of an eye, when you least expect
it…
I grew up on a ranch in Texas, spending most of my childhood riding horses with my sisters, and following my dad around as he worked the ranch. He and I were thick as molasses, inseparable, the best of friends. He was my hero, but unfortunately, he wasn’t invincible. Two weeks after my fifteenth birthday, my father died, and my life imploded. Everything I knew - gone. My dad came to pick me up from the movies, and never made it home. I will never forget that night as long as I live. Even if I tried… my nightmares wouldn’t let me.
A year later, my mom sold the ranch and moved us to New York to be closer to her family. That move altered my path in so many ways; I thought my life was ending, but it was just the beginning of the journey that would lead me to him.
I’m not really a morning person, but when the aroma of coffee and fresh baking fills my room in the mornings, Addi manages to convince me of life before noon! I pad barefoot down the hallway of our New York apartment, trying to tame my bed-hair into a messy bun, which is almost impossible. Her voice sings out in the morning silence, full of excitement.
“Of course we’ll be there, we wouldn’t miss it… can’t wait… see you Friday.”
As I round the corner, I’m happy to see her alone, throwing her phone onto the couch. I ask a question I know I’ll regret. “Who’s WE, and what wouldn’t WE miss?” The irritation is clear in my voice.
“Morning, grumpy, that was Jason. Remember him… opening his own restaurant, devastatingly gorgeous, loves men more than I do?” Okay, so she’s going for snide this morning.
“Hilarious. What’s going on?”
“I was just checking. You seem to have your nose so deep in the books lately that I thought there might not be any space left in that brain of yours to remember life in the outside world.” She starts jumping up and down when she remembers she has news. Talking at lightning speed, her voice becomes incomprehensible. “Well… you know the restaurant will be opening officially next week – but - everything is fitted out and Jason is throwing a party on Friday night for some friends and the NY elite! He wants us to come. Maybe I’ll find myself a dashing CEO to party with this weekend!”
Typical Addi. When it comes to guys, she has a one-track mind - $$$$$$. Maybe a two-track mind - she also has a tendency to think with ‘little Addi’ a lot of the time, too.
“I told him that we would totally be there, Friday at 8 p.m.”
“Thanks for asking, I’ve got no plans, and I’d love to go.”
“Wow you’re moody today, what crawled up your ass last night?”
“Sorry, you know I’m a mean girl before coffee. Prep for finals is getting to me, and I’m still trying to get this damn thesis finished. Of course we’ll go. I wouldn’t miss it. Anyway… what’s cooking? Smells amazing.”
“Your favorite - Banana nut muffins. There’s a fresh pot of coffee waiting for you, too. Don’t say I’m not good to you.” I grab a muffin, still warm from the oven, a giant mug of coffee, and head back to my room.
I team my favorite skinny jeans, grey needle cord, soft, stretchy, and complementary to my curves, with my faded tight Superman T-shirt. I’m ready for a day locked in the campus library with William. I’m sure today will be the day I get my thesis finished – Sexuality in Shakespeare. I’ve been working on it all year, becoming an almost permanent resident in the library.
Addi is running around like a headless chicken, zigzagging from room to room. “Hey, Lil, wait up! I’ll tag along - got some stuff to do on campus.”
“Professors won’t flirt with themselves!” I shout down the hallway.
“Very funny, just sit your skinny ass down and wait two minutes.” Ten minutes and a makeover later, we’re out the door.
The sun is splitting the skies as we enjoy an unusually pleasant and leisurely walk to campus, stopping for coffee-to-go at our favorite café, before heading our separate ways for the day with a plan to hook up for dinner. It’s Addi’s way of making sure I leave the library and interact with the outside world. She’s a firm believer in the saying – all work and no play makes Lil a buzzkill.
Addi Warner has been my best friend since sophomore year in high school, when I moved to New York with my family. We sat next to each other in first period English, and have been inseparable ever since, coaching each other through it all - first kisses, dates, and broken hearts. The woman is ridiculous; tall with model proportions, black sleek hair that hangs down her back like a waterfall, and the deepest blue eyes. Not enough of a winning hand to be dealt - she’s also intelligent, funny, and caring. If not for the fact that she’s hands down the best person I’ve ever met, I’d hate her guts! She’s the only reason I had any kind of social life at high school, and why I remotely registered on the cool crowd’s radar.
Me on the other hand… how would I describe myself? I’m tall, but not in a model kind of way, more of an ‘I feel like a lumberjack’ way. My mom would always say I have a classic hourglass figure, however, standing in front of the mirror in my underwear, I would say my butt and hips are disproportional to my waist. My chest is... ample, and my legs are long but kinda gangly. I don't paint a great picture, do I? When I'm dressed up for a night out, I can work what I have, so I'm fine with it. My hair is long, blonde, and wild, but a styling wand can make it killer! My forest green eyes are my best feature – something I’ve always been complimented on.
Anyway, back to the reason you're reading...
The doors of Butler Library are in sight. Juggling my books, bag, and coffee, I’m lost in thought. As usual, I’m so caught up in my own head, oblivious to my surroundings. I don’t even know what hits me. The concrete beneath my feet disappears, the world turning upside down as my vision blurs, and the sky is all I see. Coffee soaks into my pants, a burning sensation spreading down my leg. As I watch in slow motion, bracing myself for impact, my papers flutter down around me like butterflies in spring… but the pain of my body smacking to the ground doesn’t come. It takes a moment to register the man looming over me, holding me just shy of the ground with one arm, the other hitting the harsh sidewalk. I stare in disbelief as a trickle of red runs from beneath his palm, dripping onto the vast expanse of gray.
“Oh shit! Are you okay?”
I must have hit my head, because the voice speaking to me right now is smooth like silk, almost angelic – with a rich breathy tone of sin itself. I struggle to focus as I’m lifted, and set down on my feet. He holds me firm against his chest until I’m steady enough to hold my own. Luckily, he didn’t let go. When my eyes glance from a firm chest… up to his face, my knees buckle at the sight before me. Six inches away from my lips is the most attractive face I have ever seen; and I’m not talking in ‘real life,’ I mean EVER.
Chiseled cheekbones, a perfect nose, full lips that look capable of wicked, wonderful things… and his eyes - I feel like I’ve been punched in the chest with the force of feeling his eyes stir inside me. They are the lightest blue, almost sparkling silver, made even more spectacular by gorgeous dark hair, with a slight curl to it. My fingers itch to touch it, but I return from my blatant daydreaming by his voice – sultry, yet commanding.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt? I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention… stupid phone never stops ringing.” Oh. My. God. My brain is broken. I can’t speak. I just stand here looking like an idiot, begging my mouth to comply with my mind. I want to say that I’m fine and it was my fault for being completely oblivious - as usual, but what comes out, is something else entirely.
“You’re perfect.” Shit! Did I just say that? Please, tell me I did not just say that. What the actual fuck?
He begins to chuckle, and it’s the sweetest sound to ever grace my ears, it makes me tingle in ways that I couldn’t describe even if I wanted to. Then I realize he’s laughing at my ridiculous outburst. I tear my gaze from him and drop to my knees to grab my stuff.
“Let me help you with that, Miss…?”
“Lily… my name is Lily Tate.” My cheeks are on fire. He drops dow
n next to me and starts gathering my thesis. “You don’t have to help, I’m fine.” Lifting the loose pages, he scans the text, before stopping dead.
“Sexuality in Shakespeare. You don’t strike me as the type…”
What did he just say to me? I’m not the type to what? Be interested in sexuality? I know I’m a walking disaster, and he’s way out of my league, but where does he get off saying something like that to a stranger? “Well, as you know nothing about me, and we’ll never see each other again, I guess it doesn’t matter worth a damn what I strike you as.” I grab my papers from his hand and run toward my building.
I can hear his footsteps behind me, trying to catch up without running. I’m sure he wouldn’t want to ruin his perfect hair and expensive suit by running after the likes of me. He’s probably never had to run after a woman in his life - not with that face. I refuse to look back; I’ve endured enough embarrassment for one day.
“Miss Tate, please stop for a moment.” He grabs my shoulder, sending a jolt of electricity straight through my body.
“Don’t touch me.”
I disappear through the double doors and into a sea of students - hidden from the stranger doing unfamiliar things to my insides. I can still hear his voice shouting for me to come back, but I can’t let myself turn round, so I just keep walking, relieved to be away from his intense stare and judgment - choosing to ignore the churning in my stomach at the realization that I’ll never see his stunning face again. It’s for the best; someone like me does not live in the same world as someone like him.
My day is a complete washout. I won’t get my thesis finished. I can’t concentrate enough to study, and every time I try to get my head together, I’m assaulted by visions of sparkling ice-blue eyes.