by Kat Bastion
“Wow.” He glanced at me with wide eyes, pride in his expression. “Good for you. That’s huge.”
I nodded. “Yeah, it was. I made it clear that I had to remain out of it, though. They had to make that case all on their own, and I didn’t need to know the outcome.” I wanted no part of that mess. I’d already moved on. Why I’d had Kiki toss the backpack. Only way to live in the present is to let go of the past.
All of a sudden, my attention got drawn outside of the cab. He’d turned down Maple Lane.
We slowed to a coast and all of my beautiful houses paraded by us. I leaned out, whispering hello to the white storybook cottage with its whimsical flowers and curvy metal-capped chimney.
Toward the end, he eased around the lane’s gentle bend, pulled up to the curb, then cut the engine—right in front of our favorite house.
Only...the property no longer looked sad and decrepit.
Vibrant flowers and fresh sod gleamed under the warmth of the sun. A new brick pathway stretched forth like a red carpet, even and straight. Porch steps and roof eaves had been replaced and painted. It had a bright white railing, unblemished windows, and righted shutters.
The house looked glorious, shining there in a happy shade of yellow and trimmed in green.
His words from when we’d first walked by together echoed in my mind. It’s been neglected for too long. ’Bout time someone paid attention to it.
After he opened my truck door, then led me to the yard’s front walkway, I finally stared up at him. “Someone sold it to you?”
“Not exactly.”
He nodded toward the opening front door and waved for someone to come outside.
A little old woman took a few tentative steps but stopped at the threshold of the porch, remained in the shade.
Ben slipped his hand into mine and led me up the freshly bricked path until we stood at its end, right below the new porch steps.
He gave my hand a light squeeze. “This is Helen.”
A brightness sparkled in the elderly woman’s silvery blue eyes. Her slender white eyebrows raised, her expression growing hopeful. “I’m a decent cook. And I keep a tidy house.” She glanced back through the open front door, voice beginning to tremble. “Too many years it’s been just tired ol’ me breathin’ between those walls. Be nice to have youth and excitement in there again.”
“The place inside isn’t half bad either. Helen’s been letting me sneak upstairs, strengthen the floorboards a bit to handle the traffic of a couple of ‘young’uns’ trudging around up there. Well, we’re a couple, anyway.”
“A couple?”
He turned toward me, searched my eyes deeper than ever before, as if for some new answer he hadn’t yet found. “What if it isn’t just that one week for us. What if we had more?”
My brow furrowed, total confusion jumbling my brain with that last word. “More?”
“What if you didn’t have to be alone? Didn’t need one single week of memories to get you through the dark nights? What if we make new memories for all the nights?”
“More…traffic.” My brain tried to connect the floorboard-strengthening to the more.
Helen’s head dipped down a fraction, and her expression hardened into stone-cold serious. “More excitement too.”
I blinked, finally understanding their meaning—that tempting us he’d been talking about. An us with Ben was something I wanted, and could have, if I was brave enough to take the leap with my heart. My mind flashed to a young runaway in the woods, to a girl over the years who’d provided for others, to Wonder Woman who leapt first, offering her heart to countless others, without fear or concern for herself.
Then I straightened my shoulders. And got honest with myself. No more denial.
I love Ben.
And I wanted to make him happy. Which meant I needed to face my fear of betrayal.
So, I did what he’d suggested one night long ago...
Touch your electrical lines, Shay. You’re braver than you know.
I leapt.
Mind made up, I gave a brave heartfelt smile toward Ben, then glanced at our new friend. “Are you okay with that, Helen? Him shacking up with me...in your house?”
“Yeah, about that.” He tugged something out from inside of his T-shirt collar. A necklace? He reached behind his neck, unfastened it, then bent down on one knee. “What if we made this thing real? Made it legal?”
I stared down at a sparkling diamond ring held in his hand, a platinum chain hanging from it. “You want to marry me?”
“I do. No more running away to protect you, or me. Only holding on.”
I just stared at him in disbelief.
“Wear it around your neck for a week, if you want. I’ve been wearing it around mine for eighteen months.” He drew in a deep breath. “You and me, Shay. Your way, my way, there’s no difference to me anymore. It’s our way and the only life I can imagine living.”
Ben...for more than a week. Him being my family, my home...forever. All I’ve ever wanted.
Tears blurred my vision, then dripped down my cheeks as I nodded. “Yes,” I whispered as I tugged on his other hand, completely honest with both of us as I invited him into my arms, “I want all of that too.”
“Well, thank the sweet Lord for that!” Helen clapped her hands once. “I didn’t have to fake a livin’-in-sin conniption.” Helen walked up to us, put a gentle hand on each of our forearms, and focused her bright blue gaze on me. “And it’s our house now. Your man here bought half ownership, and with no heirs, I’m giving the rest to you as a wedding present” —she winked— “after I’m dead and gone, of course.”
“Well, it’s about time, James Bond!”
I turned to see Trin standing at the curb behind us, hands megaphoning her mouth.
Kiki hooked an arm around her neck. “I knew my fairy godmothering would land you the prince.”
Ben gazed down at me, then gave me a tender kiss. “And we’ll live happily ever after.”
I arched a brow, easing back a bit. “Even if the prince is bright, boring, a total rule-follower and she’s dark, edgy, will probably break at least one law a day?”
“Even if. Because a wise and generous-hearted woman once told the prince he needed a little more danger to rough up his edges—make his seriousness less fatal.”
“A very wise woman. Life is meant to be lived,” I repeated, remembering.
“And your prince is looking forward to spending every wild, crazy, and sometimes lawbreaking moment of it...with you.”
Six months later...
Shay…
From the shade of a maple tree at the far edge of the lawn, I took a breather from my dream world to soak it all in.
Balloons in rainbow colors bobbed from ribbons tied to the wraparound railing.
Spiraled crepe paper, draped from post to post, rippled in a slight breeze.
Presents hidden under boisterous wrapping with shiny bows sat in a pile on a side table.
Absolutely no clowns or balloon animals were in attendance: orders from Cade.
All the decorations were for little Oliver’s second birthday, the first party at our house.
A warm presence edged into my awareness.
Ben.
His hands slid over my hips from behind. A gentle kiss pressed to my temple before the soft scruff of his beard trailed down my cheek. Warm breath feathered over the shell of my ear.
“What’re you doing all the way out here, alone?”
I let out a contented sigh and smiled. “Just stealing a moment for myself.”
And as I slid my hands over his, my fingers brushed over both of our wedding rings: his basic gold band, my original platinum-mounted diamond, all we needed.
We’d gotten married on the seventh day of our very first entire week together, in our secret forest clearing. Only three other people had been there with us. The pastor of our local church, and fierce supporter of the homeless, had expressed heartfelt honor to make us legal in the eyes of
God. Trin had scoffed when I asked if she’d be a witness, had insisted on being both flower girl and maid of honor. Kiki had taken her role as fairy godmother to heart, adorning me in a gauzy white dress “perfect for a forest bride marrying her prince.” Trin had worn a similar lilac dress with green ribbons hanging from dazzling crystals. We’d both worn botanical woodland crowns in our hair, mine simple baby’s breath, Trin’s made of sprigs of lavender and tiny white roses.
Everyone else understood that we’d eloped, had gone to our own private world to make things official, our way.
Weeks later, Ben had sold the condo, and we’d moved into the upper floor of Helen’s house. But together with Helen, we’d dusted every corner of our dream home with laughter and love.
And an entire half year later, each day was filled with both adventure and generosity. Every night, I pinched myself, unable to believe I got to fall asleep safe and protected in Ben’s arms.
Surrounding us both? A bigger close-knit family than I’d ever imagined.
I’m no longer the girl standing on the fringes, only the observer.
I’ve finally become a part of it all.
“Come on. Let’s dive back into the fray.” I took Ben’s hand and led him across the lawn.
Helen stood beside her latest friends, Chloe and Daniel. When my adoptive grandma had discovered there were bakers in our midst, she’d insisted on weekly visits to Sweet Dreams, the bakery Hannah had founded and Chloe and Daniel now owned. Unfazed by Daniel’s Mohawk, piercings, and dry commentary, she’d become best buds with rockabilly Chloe, and Helen even wore one of her own original dresses from the 50s to the party.
Mase’s girlfriend, Leilani, was able to fly out with him from Hawaii. Darren and his sister, Logan, came with Kiki.
Trin chased around Oliver while Oliver chased Ava, and he squealed with joy every time he captured the German shepherd’s tail. Ava patiently held it still, but kept walking forward, dragging him along.
“It’s how he learned to walk.” Cade folded his arms, overseeing his firstborn from a bench on the porch. “Our ingenious son just grabbed onto her tail and let her do most of the work.”
Ben shot up a raised fist, then pointed at our boy latched on to the dog’s tail. “Uncle Ben taught ’em that. Go Ava ’n Ollie!”
Beside Cade, Hannah rolled her eyes. “His baby sister will be able to take bold steps all on her own.”
Cade startled straight up. “Baby sister?” He dropped a wide-eyed gaze at her very flat stomach.
She shrugged. “Someday.”
He shot her a warning glare, lips pursed. She kissed him soundly.
Victoria and Garrett watched over all of the activity from a shady corner of the porch, proud grandparents. I’d been over to their house dozens of times in the last six months, and they were everything Ben had described and more. They brought me into their fold as true family, becoming the loving parents I had always wanted.
Kristen’s husband Jason leaned back against the happy yellow house, his wife nestled within his arms as they watched the kids play.
I’d invited Rafe to come, but he’d declined. I didn’t ask why, but understood. It was hard for people from my world to handle too much goodness from the other side.
Kendall rushed out the door, jogged down the steps, then waved at everyone. “Gotta go. Meeting a new client.”
Just then, a tan vintage FJ40 Land Cruiser with a white roof nudged up to the curb, nose in.
Mase stood from his lawn chair, whistling low. “Cherry ride!” he called out to the driver who was obscured by shadow and the reflection of the flat windshield.
The only response was a subtle hand wave out the driver’s window.
“Client?” Kiki narrowed her eyes at the rumbling engine. “Can’t he get out of the vehicle?”
Kendall shrugged. “Jax ‘doesn’t do social.’”
Then she stopped in front of Ben and me and gave us both one huge hug. “Awesome party. Love the house.” She eased back and gave me a warm look that glittered with affection. “Welcome to the family.”
“Get you guys drinks?” Mase crossed to the nearby cooler as Kendall disappeared and the FJ drove off.
I nodded. “Cream soda.”
Ben held up a couple of fingers. “Two.”
Mase furrowed his brows. “No beer?”
“No alcohol. Two years sober, and counting.”
I gave Ben’s hand a gentle squeeze. Being sober by choice was something he was proud of, we both were. He’d admitted to me that he had drowned in several bottles of scotch in the days after I’d left him.
But then he saw the truth, realized what was most important in his world, and went after it. Part of that involved never touching alcohol again...except for responsibly serving at his bar, of course.
Something that had kept him going was the hope that he and I weren’t done yet. That we hadn’t broken up; we’d simply taken a pause.
Another mission he’d undertaken? Helping my crew, my people...our people.
“Here ya go, felon.” Mase extended a cream soda bottle toward me.
I arched a brow at him.
“What?” His expression went all innocent. “Too soon?”
I shook my head with a smile and swiped the chilled bottle from him.
Then I casually scoped out his personal-security situation.
Ben gave me a pointed look after he accepted his soda, then chuckled. “Better watch yourself, Mase. Mess with my wife, something’s bound to go missing.”
“I’m not worried. I’ve got my pockets locked down.”
Trin brushed by him. “You sure about that?” She turned and proudly held up a turquoise-and-green wallet like she’d stolen the Olympic torch.
Cade popped up from his bench and jogged down the steps. “Is that Velcro?”
“His crazy vintage surfer wallet,” Leilani explained while shaking her head.
Ben blinked. “Old-man surfer wallet? You stuck in the 80s?”
I shot Trin a chin-up. “What kind of greenbacks does he have to donate? Anything good?”
Mase let out a defeated sigh. “Two Benjamins and a Jefferson. Go on” —he waved whatever hands through the air— “empty me out. It’s yours for the cause. Just gimme back my wallet.”
Trin grinned, plucked the money out as instructed, then tossed him back his Velcro time capsule.
Our girl slapped the money onto Ben’s open palm.
“How are things going, by the way?” Ben asked as he glanced at me.
He meant the new foundation. In the weeks immediately following the spotlight article, one hundred and sixty-five people, all victims of Ben’s father, had called or emailed the reporter, expressing their appreciation to her and their Robin Hood heroine. When the reporter had done a follow-up article to share that those victims wanted to help others, eighteen hundred more stepped up with their support.
The reporter had contacted me in prison, I’d asked Kiki for help, and together with the guidance of Victoria Michaelson, and under the umbrella of The Unity Foundation, we’d formed a separate foundation with my dream in mind, the one I’d shared with Ben on Heart’s couch.
Once I’d gotten out, and after a few months of getting everything legally set up, I’d approached Heart yesterday to see if she wanted to partner up with me. “Awesome. Heart enthusiastically agreed.”
That’s where all the newest donations were being funneled: The Robin Hood Initiative.
Ben folded the confiscated bills with precision, then slipped them under the collar of my T-shirt, down into my bra.
I glanced at the slight bulge, then shot him a deadpan expression. “I’m not a stripper.”
“Couldn’t you be? Just for me?” he murmured into my ear. “Make my dream come true.”
“Yeah,” I whispered, then gave him a soft kiss. “Just for you.”
Because of you.
Because you believed in us—even when I wasn’t brave enough to trust...
All of our d
reams are coming true.
Thank you for experiencing Ben and Shay’s romantic adventure with us in Lawbreaker.
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Want to read more of your favorite characters from Lawbreaker?
In the Unbreakable series...
Kiki & Darren’s romance ignites in…
Heartbreaker
Mase & Leilani’s passion flares in…
Rule Breaker
Cade and Hannah fall in love in the No Weddings series…
No Weddings
One Funeral
Two Bar Mitzvahs
Three Christmases
For Valentine’s
(a steamy nightcap novella)
Coming soon in the Highland Legends series…
Born of Mist and Legend
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Kat Bastion won several awards for her bestselling debut novel Forged in Dreams and Magick.
Kat and Stone Bastion’s bestselling first novel No Weddings and the No Weddings series were named Best of 2014 by multiple romance review blogs.