Never Over You
Copyright © 2015 by Ryleigh Andrews
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design by
Najla Qamber Designs
Cover Photos by
Lauren Perry, Perrywinkle Photography
Interior Design and Formatting by
Christine Borgford, Perfectly Publishable
Editing by Lisa Christman of Adept Edits
Never Over You
PART ONE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
PART TWO
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
CHAPTER 49
CHAPTER 50
CHAPTER 51
CHAPTER 52
CHAPTER 53
EPILOGUE
Cast of Characters
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Don’t pray for an easy life, pray for the strength to endure a hard one. ~ Bruce Lee
Mia
April 2011
“I’ve got you, suga,” Ethan soothed as he sat her down on the bench in front of the bed. He knelt in front of her, his eyes kind and full of love, his demeanor calm while her mind focused on what her father’s assistant, Vivienne, had just said on the phone. Her papa had collapsed, unconscious, and was now in the hospital. He had to be all right. He just had to. “I need you to tell me where we need to go and I’ll take care of it. I promise. I’ll get you to your father as fast as I can, but I need you to help me out a little, okay? Can you do that for me?” he said, kissing one cheek then the other.
With a wooden nod, Mia just barely got the info out to Ethan and then second by second began to shut down. He took her phone from her and stood. She locked her eyes on him as he started making calls. The first to Allie. From what made it to her ears, it took a bit of cash, but Ethan secured a private jet to Michigan. Allie was taking care of their car arrangements to the airfield and onward.
Ethan quickly got their bags packed and put them by the door, then took her by the hand and led her to the closet.
“Suga, I need you to get dressed, okay?”
Glancing up at him, Mia noticed that he was now dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Without letting go of Ethan’s hand, she walked over to her long skirts, not even paying attention to what she grabbed. She robotically took out a T-shirt and a cardigan, then headed to get some underwear and a bra.
She sat down at the bench and stared at the bookcase of pictures she had, her eyes focused on the small frame up high, slightly hidden from view. But she knew exactly where and what it was—a picture of her and her father from when she was younger—before her mother left. They were happy then … and her whole life had been spent unsuccessfully trying to regain that happiness.
“Let me help you, Mia,” Ethan murmured as he slipped her panties up her legs. “Stand up for me,” he said, his voice full of patience. She did as he asked and he pulled the silky fabric the rest of the way up, then he did the same thing with her skirt.
“Allie said the limo should be here in about fifteen minutes. I need you to finish getting your clothes on.”
She nodded blankly at him. Glancing around, she took inventory of what else she needed to put on and did so—clumsily, she realized when Ethan adjusted her sweater. She was so thankful to have this man by her side, taking charge and making sure she was all right. His strength and that support. He didn’t care what it took, he would get her to her father no matter the cost or trouble. And for that, she was grateful … and loved him even more, if that was even possible.
A few minutes later, he returned. “Limo is here. Where’s your purse?”
“My office,” she answered quietly. With a swift nod, Ethan took her hand and led her down the stairs to her office where she’d thrown it.
Once in the limo, Mia stared out at the passing scenery, letting her mind empty, though the hand linked with Ethan kept her anchored to the present. Once they were in the air and told they could take off their seatbelts, Ethan turned on the TV across from them, found a movie, and then released her from her seatbelt. Mia hadn’t said a word since they’d boarded the plane and was happy that she could let the movie have her focus. Ethan gently guided her head to his lap. She sought comfort in those strong thighs of his. He’d been so patient with her, taking care of everything to get them on their way to her father. He brushed his hand over her hair as her head rested in his lap. The sense of urgency to see her father plus the fear of losing him without fixing their relationship overwhelmed her.
Her papa could not die.
She kept repeating that to herself. No matter what had happened between them, she didn’t want her father to die. She’d missed him for twenty-four years. That was enough.
She missed playing in their big backyard, running around and laughing. She missed when he sat by her side as she practiced the piano, a proud smile on his face. She missed all the times she camped out on his office floor, engrossed in a book, while he worked. Or the times being silly and doing goofy dances while listening to music. Mia knew she got her sense of humor from him, as well as her love of music. His influence on her young life, hell, her whole life, had been immense. Even if the influence on the latter half of her childhood had been in a negative light.
But as she lay on Ethan’s lap flying to her dad, those negative thoughts were nowhere to be found. Instead, happy times with her father flooded her mind—when things had been good, when he’d loved her—all those moments she’d craved all her life. Mia knew what he could be like. She remembered his love. Her whole life had been spent trying to feel it again. She needed to mend this with her father. Or at least try. Because if she’d learned anything the past few years, it was that life was too short.
Mia
Michigan
While in the air, Allie had sent them more information about Mia’s father so that when they arrived at the hospital, they’d know where to go. That woman was gold in a crisis.
The second they arrived, Mia was on a mission to get to her f
ather.
“Room number, Ethan?” she asked a bit impatiently as they entered the hospital.
“Three thirty-six,” he said, taking her hand and leading her towards the elevators.
In the elevator, Mia was a bundle of nervous energy. She rhythmically bounced as the elevator chimed at each floor. When the doors opened on the third floor, she bolted, not waiting for Ethan. She needed to get to her father.
She hadn’t been out of the elevator for more than five seconds when a code blared over the PA system. Her ears perked up and her gait automatically quickened.
“Code Blue, Room three thirty-six.”
Papa.
Oh fuck! Mia broke into a run. As she hurried down the hall, her eyes flicked from side to side, reading the room numbers, counting them down as she flew by. She skidded to a stop as a doctor came out of a room, angrily chucking his gloves across the hall. Glancing up at the room he’d just stormed out of, she saw the number and her heart stopped—336.
NO! Papa! Noooo!
Oh God, she thought as the doctor kicked the cart in his way. He’s gone.
Her legs gave out and she collapsed under the weight of her own body and all the guilt she carried. The moment her knees hit the hard floor, the tears were knocked out of her.
She was too late.
“Sweetie,” came a kind, female voice. Mia looked up through her tears. She appeared to be in her late forties and had the greenest eyes she’d ever seen. “Who are you here to see?”
A hand grabbing her bicep pulled her attention away from the lady.
Ethan.
Silently, he helped her stand and wrapped his arm around her waist, his grip tight as he basically held her up. Swallowing her tears, she replied to the nurse, her eyes fixated on the closed door to the room that had her father on the other side of it. “My father … in room three thirty-six.”
“His name?”
“Matthieu Devereux.”
With a relieved sigh, the nurse gave them a small smile. “That wasn’t your daddy, sweetie. He’s okay. He’s getting some tests done …”
Mia didn’t hear the rest of what the nurse had to say. It wasn’t her father …
“Did you hear me? Your daddy’s going to be okay.”
Mia turned out of Ethan’s arms to regard the nurse. “He’s really okay?”
“Yes. He’s just up in radiology.”
Thank God!
She swallowed loudly in an attempt to stem the reinvigorated tears. Nodding her head repeatedly, Mia let the fact that her father was alive wash over her. The chance to reconnect wasn’t lost.
“When …” she tried to ask the nurse, her words befuddled in her tired mind, unable to make it out.
“Why don’t you go sit in the family waiting room and I’ll come get you when he’s finished, okay? Um, what’s your name, sweetie?”
“Mia,” she replied quietly. There was a flash of recognition as the nurse put the pieces together. With widened eyes, she glanced at Ethan, and Mia couldn’t help the smile when they grew even wider.
“Thank you, Nurse …” Ethan said, letting the lack of her name hang in the air.
“Melody.”
“Thanks, Melody,” Mia said, latching onto Ethan’s hand again and let him lead her away.
Following the signs for the waiting room, they made their way to the quiet space. It was barely six in the morning and the room was pretty much empty, save an older couple on the opposite side of the room. Ethan directed her towards a sofa against the wall so they could easily spot Melody when she returned.
Sitting down on the sofa, Ethan offered up a smile and an inviting arm and she went straight to him. Mia snuggled right up to him, holding on so tight. This man was her strength. She never wanted to let him go ever again. He was stuck with her forever.
He slipped his phone from his pocket and checked the time. She saw it was later than she originally thought. She hadn’t slept since the flight to LA and she was exhausted. And he knew it.
“Suga, you need to rest,” he ordered, gently pushing her head to his lap.
“I’m not tired,” she protested. The need to see her father was strong but then Ethan played his trump card.
“Mia … you’re pregnant with our baby. Please rest.”
Our baby.
She hadn’t even had time to really think about what that all meant. She and Ethan were going to have a baby—a little human that the two of them made out of love. This had definitely not been a part of her plan to get Ethan back. When she had been coming up with her plan, Mia may have forgotten to add birth control to her list. She had stopped taking it after she broke up with Josh. Just a tiny oversight. Mia should have known sex would happen—and plenty of it.
And now she was knocked up by this wonderful man by her side. He had been so happy when she’d told him, but they hadn’t had a chance to discuss what it meant for them. They needed to figure that out—sooner rather than later. But first, she’d do as he’d told her—she’d sleep.
And as his fingers rhythmically smoothed her hair, she did just that.
Ethan
Eventually the fingers that had been kneading his thigh slowed to a stop. His suga was finally asleep. His now pregnant suga. That thought had a grin breaking out on his face. That dream—that goal they’d first spoken of before things had gone to hell—was finally coming true.
When she’d told him about the baby, the first thing he’d thought about was getting her engagement ring from his bag and asking her to marry him. And that’s what he’d been doing when the phone call about her father put a stop to him actually asking her. The ring that he’d given her four years ago was now tucked safely in his jeans pocket, but it wanted out and back on her finger.
He knew right now wasn’t the right time, but he’d keep this ring with him until he found the perfect opportunity to ask her to be his wife. And it better be soon. He needed to make her his wife!
Staring mindlessly at the television while Mia slept, Ethan waited for the nurse to return. And about thirty minutes of watching mid-morning television later, Melody knelt down beside him, a kind smile on her face.
“Hi. Her father has been moved to a different room—a private room …”
He nodded his thanks, grateful for this nurse’s foresight and doing what she could to keep the news that they were at the hospital under wraps. Mia didn’t need the added stress of the press knowing she was at the hospital for her father. Ethan needed her calm. Safe.
“I’m going to let her rest a little more and then I’ll tell her.”
“Okay,” Melody said, standing up, giving him the new room number before leaving.
Resting his head back against the wall, he closed his eyes. A short nap would do him good too. He’d give them both twenty minutes and then he’d wake her up.
When he opened his eyes again, he immediately knew it had been longer than twenty minutes. Hopefully not too much longer. Glancing at his phone, he found close to two hours had passed.
“Shit,” he said under his breath. Gently shaking Mia’s shoulder, he spoke her name. When she didn’t budge, he spoke again. “Suga, wake up.”
“No, sleep is good,” she mumbled, her breath hot against his thigh. He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his mouth.
“I’m glad you feel that way. I’ll make sure to get you some more later, but right now, you need to wake up. Your father—”
With those two last words, she sprung off his lap into a seated position. Mia smoothed her hair and he helped by tucking a few errant strands behind her ear. This woman was absolutely perfect.
Placing a quick kiss on her forehead, he stood up and extended his hand to her.
“Let’s go see your father.”
As Ethan guided them to her father’s room, they saw Nurse Melody again and she gifted them with another smile. “The doctor is with him, but go on in.”
Stopping outside of his room, Mia closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and on her exhale, pulled he
r bottom lip between her teeth. Normally Ethan would find that look sexy as hell, but at this moment, all he wanted to do was hold her and make all her worries go away.
“Okay, I’m ready,” she said, giving him a quick but thankful smile and latching on to his hand. With her other hand, she knocked on the door before slowly opening it.
When Ethan walked into the hospital room, he expected her father to be in the bed, not standing up talking to the doctor, dressed in normal clothes. Well, not exactly normal. He wore a suit jacket over a collared shirt opened at the neck.
“Classy” was the first word to come to Ethan’s mind as he studied the older man. Mia’s father had a very Old Hollywood look, a lot like Cary Grant with his dark brown hair, heavily grayed on the sides. His height kind of surprised him, looking eye to eye with him, considering how short Mia was. Their skin tone was the exact same, just like the color of their eyes, though the skin around her father’s were much more wrinkled.
And those eyes widened in shock as her father realized who was at the door.
“Mia?” her father spoke, his accent slight, his hand gripping the railing of the bed so hard Ethan could see his skin turning white.
“Hi, Papa,” his suga spoke, her accent matching her father’s. Her voice had a slight waver to it which caused Ethan to regard her. Her eyes shone with emotion and indecision.
“What are you doing here?”
“Vivienne called me and told me you’d collapsed and had been brought to the hospital … are we interrupting? Should we leave?” she asked, her words hesitant. So unlike her.
Her father’s eyes didn’t leave his daughter. He was taking her in like a man who had been deprived for far too long. Love shone in those eyes.
Mr. Devereux nodded then cleared his throat. “No. We were just finishing up, right?” he said, looking at the doctor next to him.
“Of course, Professor. I’ll see you in a week,” he said, shaking her father’s hand before exiting the room.
Mia and her father had their brown eyes trained on one another—one set starved for the sight of his daughter, the other starved for the affection of her father.
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