There's Wild, Then There's You

by M. Leighton

  The interior light hits her face when I open the car door, illuminating the blush that’s coloring her cheeks. “Damn, I love you.”

  She grins and stretches up to kiss me. “I love you, too. Now get in,” she says as she plops down in the passenger side.

  I have to give her credit. For a shy girl who’s not a sex addict, she really knows how to make a short car ride something spectacular.

  EPILOGUE: Violet

  Eight months later

  “What are we doing here?” I ask when Jet pulls into the driveway of the gorgeous, single-story Spanish colonial house, complete with mission-style shingles and an arched front door.

  “I just need to run in here real quick,” he replies, cutting the engine.

  “Is that Fiona’s car?” I ask, nodding to the silver Cadillac parked in one side of the open garage bay. It looks like the one my dad’s girlfriend drives.

  “Yep,” he answers, sliding out from behind the wheel to round to my side.

  “What’s she doing here?”

  “You’ll see,” he says with a grin.

  I note the mischievous twinkle in Jet’s eyes. Whether it was because I was distracted and didn’t see it before, or because it simply wasn’t there, I don’t know, but it’s there now.

  “What are you up to?”

  “Why do I have to be up to something?”

  “I know that look.”

  “What look?”

  “That look,” I say, pointing to him when his grin widens.

  He just shrugs and winks at me, which makes me even more suspicious.

  I let Jet lead me up the front steps to a tall, heavy wooden door with a wrought iron grill over it. He opens it and steps back, sweeping his hand out in front of him. “After you.”

  The foyer is beautiful with its vaulted ceiling and Spanish tile floor that flows seamlessly into a huge, empty living room.

  Jet leads me between the dining room and living room to an amazing kitchen, and beyond it to a hall lined with doors. “Does no one live here?” I ask, surveying the blank walls and unfurnished bedrooms as we pass.

  “Not yet.”

  I tug his hand to a stop and I gasp with the realization, “Ohmigod, are Dad and Fiona moving in together?”

  “They just met a couple of months ago,” Jet reasons.

  “Yeah, but they get along so well and they have so much in common.” Dad and Fiona met at an AA meeting. Jet knows her better than I do, since he still takes Dad each Thursday. But I like her. And, more importantly, so does Dad.

  Thursdays must be popular nights for addicts, I think randomly, remembering that it was on a Thursday that I met Jet all those months ago.

  “Yes, they do, but they’re taking it slow. Which is smart. You know that.”

  “Yeah, I know that.”

  “But I wouldn’t be surprised if they end up together like that.”

  “Neither would I. And they have you to thank for it.”

  “Why is that?”

  “If you hadn’t started taking Dad to those meetings, or if you’d stopped after we got back together . . .”

  Jet shrugs again. “It’s best for you if he still goes, which means I’ll take him as long as he needs it. Or as long as he wants me to.”

  “I think he enjoys you going with him.”

  “Nobody should have to go through that alone.”

  “Now he has you and Fiona.”

  “One big happy family.”

  My heart swells at the way he says that. “Yes, one big happy family.”

  “What do you think of this room?” Jet asks as he drags me to the end of the hall into an enormous master suite.

  “It’s gorgeous!” I say, walking by the bank of windows to the right. I circle around to the bathroom and adjoining dual walk-in closets that are bigger than my current bedroom.

  “Could you live here?”

  “Of course! Who wouldn’t love to live here?”

  Jet takes my hand and pulls me back toward the windows overlooking a lush green backyard, replete with a brick patio and an outdoor fireplace. “Could you live here with me?” he asks, turning me to face him.

  My heart speeds up and my mouth goes dry. “Why do you ask?”

  “Fiona knows the contractor who built this house. It’s only been finished for about two weeks. She talked him into letting us look at it before he puts it on the market. It’s ours if we want it. If you want it.”

  I’m shaking as Jet turns me toward the windows again, coming around behind me to cross his arms over my waist. “Please say yes. I want to wake up beside you every day in this bedroom. I want to have breakfast with you every morning in that kitchen. I want to pick out paint and turn one of the spare rooms into a nursery. And, one day, I want to marry you right there,” he says, pointing past me to the beautiful backyard, where I can now see my father and Fiona waving up at us. “Say yes, Violet. Say you’ll live here. With me.”

  I feel Jet’s lips brush the curve of my neck, his arms tightening around me. I turn in them, clasping my hands together at his nape. “I can’t think of a more perfect life than the one you just described.”

  His smile is brilliant, and his eyes shine with a happiness that is mirrored in my heart. “Is that a yes?”

  I return his smile, my soul bursting with a joy I never even dreamed of, much less sought. “That’s a big yes!”

  “Then let’s go down there and welcome your Dad to our new house and get them the hell out of here so we can sneak back in and properly christen this room.”

  He ducks his head and his lips meet mine in a kiss that would steam up the windows if it were colder outside. I’m breathless and achy by the time he finishes exploring my mouth.

  “Does that mean you’re not tired of me yet?”

  “I could never get tired of you. I’m addicted. Hopelessly, shamelessly, undeniably addicted.”

  “Then I’m happy to be your enabler.”

  “Forever?”

  “Forever.”

  Addiction has never looked so promising.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  New York Times and USA Today bestselling author M. Leighton is a native of Ohio. She relocated to the warmer climates of the South, where she can be near the water all summer and miss the snow all winter. Possessed of an overactive imagination from early in her childhood, Michelle finally found an acceptable outlet for her fantastical visions: literary fiction. Having written more than a dozen novels, Michelle enjoys letting her mind wander to more romantic settings with sexy Southern guys, much like the one she married and the ones you’ll find in her latest books. When her thoughts aren’t roaming in that direction, she’ll be riding wild horses, skiing the slopes of Aspen, or scuba diving with a hot rock star, all without leaving the cozy comfort of her office. Visit her on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads and at mleightonbooks.blogspot.com.