by James, Clare
That was probably one of the best days of my life, when I came here and delivered the check. It was the very first thing I did after I took over my trust.
I make my way out to the parking lot and see her again. This time I know it’s not my imagination. It’s Jules in the flesh, leaning up against my motorcycle.
“Hey,” I say, trying to keep my cool. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen her and I have to fight to stay put.
“Hey,” she answers with a tiny smile on her lips.
God, I’ve missed her.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“Tabby told me to come and check it out. I read Noah’s article about you and what you’re doing at the Center.”
“For the record, I did not want to do that article, but Noah needed filler for the paper.”
“Yeah, I know,” she says. “It was a great piece though. What you’re doing for these kids and their families, I don’t know what to say. I’m proud of you.”
“Let’s not get carried away. I’m still a mother fucker, remember?”
“I’m trying not to remember all of that,” she says.
“I don’t want you to forget it,” I say, wanting her to understand why it would never happen again. “I was in such a different place back then, Jules. I didn’t think I deserved you and I was weak and insecure. I regretted it the second it happened and I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I wanted to pretend it didn’t happen and I was too chicken shit to face you afterwards. I’m ashamed it happened in the first place, but even more ashamed that I didn’t have the guts to tell you. ”
“Yeah, you should’ve.” She nods. “But I understand why you didn’t. I can be pretty scary sometimes.”
“No,” I say, hating how she’s taking the responsibility off of me. “This is all my fault.”
She’s quiet for a minute, dragging her foot back and forth on the pavement.
“Tell me how you’re doing,” I demand, taking a step closer.
“Hanging in there,” she says. “Doing a lot of thinking actually.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“I think so. After I found out about Jenna, it brought up a lot of crap. So I’ve been working through that. I’ve been talking to my mom a lot—about what happened with Dad. I’ve discovered there was more to the story than I originally thought. I even wrote my dad a letter—if you can believe it.”
Looks like someone else has been getting her shit together.
“No offense, Jules. But I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Don’t get me wrong, he still fucked up.”
There’s my girl.
“But now I guess I understand why,” she says.
“And that matters to you?” I ask, hopeful.
“It does,” she says, her smile finally reaching her eyes.
“Do you have more room in your life for this type of charity? Because I know of someone who could really use it.”
“I just might,” she says.
***
Jules and I take my bike to the park and spend the next two hours talking. Slowly, her walls start to come down. So I decide to go for it and bring her to my new building.
“Can I open my eyes yet?” she asks.
“Yep, we’re here.”
We get off the bike and I walk her up to the brick building in an up-and-coming neighborhood in South Minneapolis. There are huge windows on the lower level and remains from a boutique business that didn’t make it.
“What is this, Foster?”
“My new building.”
“What?” Jules screams. “You bought a building?”
“In case you haven’t figured it out, I’ve dipped into my trust. The Center will be the focus of all my philanthropic efforts, my heart work. But this is where I’ll make the money. I’m opening a small restaurant down here, and the floor above is my apartment.
“You don’t live in ghettoville anymore?”
“Nope.”
“Can I have a tour?”
“Of course, come on.”
I take her through the space, explaining how it will look when it’s done. When I take her upstairs, the nerves kick in.
I have it all ready, because I was hoping I’d have an opportunity like this.
She gives me her best ooh and aah at my pad. When we walk out, I can feel her interest in the space across the hall.
“And what about that?” she asks.
“What?”
It’s almost time. The big reveal…
“That space.” She points. “Is that yours too?”
“Not really,” I say, preparing for the biggest moment in my life.
“What do you mean not really?” she asks.
“I own it, but there’s a little business, I’d like to invest in.”
That’s right. Ease her in.
“What kind of business?” She raises an eyebrow, pretending to be in complete control. Too bad her tapping foot gives her away.
“It depends on what she decides,” I say. “I was thinking it’d be great as a photography studio, or law office.”
Boom!
Fuck, who am I kidding? There’s no boom. There’s only me holding my breath, waiting for her to respond. Being Jules, she takes her time.
“Really now?” she asks, her eyes twinkling. “How did you foresee this coming? Until a few hours ago, we weren’t speaking to each other.”
“I do have American Indian blood in my veins, you know. Turns out, we are wise people.”
“Yeah, but how’d you know I’d forgive you?”
“I didn’t,” I admit. “I don’t. But I’m not going to give up. Someone once said I had to stop giving up and go after what I want.”
“Hmmm. Sounds like a wise woman.”
“The wisest,” I say, unable to handle any more of this beating around the bush shit. “So tell me, what do you think? You’re killing me here.”
She doesn’t wait another second before she launches into my arms and kisses me senseless.
Chapter 41
Jules
A week later, I’m at the coffee shop when I bump into Jenna.
It’s been such an incredible week with Foster—amazing dates, knock-the-walls-down sex, and soft pillow talk that goes on for most of the night. Not even Jenna can ruin my mood.
Still, I knew this day was going to come and I know what I have to do. I just wish it didn’t have to be so damn early in the morning.
“Jules,” Jenna says, stopping by my table with fake sympathy washed over her face. I’ve seen this look plenty of times before. “How are you hanging in there?”
“I’m good,” I tell her. “I’m with Foster actually.”
Straight to the point, that’s the only way to communicate with her.
“What?” she asks, the sympathy is now replaced with confusion…or disappointment.
“Yeah, we got back together last week.”
“Oh.” She rolls her eyes and lets out a dramatic sigh. “Well, Jules, I tried. I just hope you’re prepared for another girl to come forward like I did. Guys like Foster don’t change, you know.”
“I’m not sure Foster is the same guy you knew back then. But either way, I’ve forgiven him. I forgive you, too.”
Surprisingly, I mean it.
“For what?” she snaps.
“For what you did with Foster when you were supposed to be a friend. For the way you treated me when Ben died. For everything, really.”
“I didn’t ask you for forgiveness.” She smoothes out the imaginary wrinkles in her skirt.
“I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for me. And Foster.”
“Well, isn’t that big of you,” she says.
“I know there’s still something good in there, Jenna. The girl I used to know. The girl Ben loved so much. And I want you to know, if she’s ever interested in talking. I’m here.”
Then I walk away, feeling better than I’ve felt in so long. And I know, it’s just going to make e
verything with Foster all the more sweet.
Epilogue
Three Months Later
Foster
“Is it time? Is it time?” Charlie asks, peering out the window. He’s jumping out of his skin waiting for Jules to arrive. She’s won him over big time—and I think the feeling is mutual. Who knew she had such a soft spot for kids.
“Almost,” I tell him. “Are you ready?”
Charlie nods like a bobble head.
“Good,” I say. “You are the man in charge. You are my wingman, buddy. I need you more than ever today.”
“I won’t let you down,” Charlie says with the most serious expression he can muster. He’s had to keep this secret for five days. They all have. It hasn’t been easy. Jules volunteers here two days a week and all the kids adore her.
After I introduced her to everyone at the Center in June, she was hooked. She loves spending time here playing games and hanging out. She even started holding photography lessons for the kids. I’ve never seen her happier.
That’s the thing about being around these kids and their families. It makes you realize everything you have and how important it is not to take one second for granted. That’s what today is all about.
Tabby and Noah know what I have planned. Frankly, I wanted their support. Tab gave me hers immediately. Noah is another story—he thinks it’s too soon. It’s never easy with him. But at least now he treats me like a human being most days and even like a friend on occasion.
I reach in my pocket one last time and take a deep breath.
“Okay, guys,” I call out to the kids. “This is it.” I nod to Charlie and he gets everyone set up in their places.
A few minutes later, Jules bounces in. She stops when she sees all the kids lined up in a row.
“Hey, little dudes and dudettes,” she says making her way in. “What’s going on here?”
I sneak up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist. “The kids have a little something special to share with you, today,” I tell her.
“They do?” Her voice is so warm, it makes me forget all about my nerves. “Let’s have it then, guys.”
Charlie steps forward. “We’ve been working on a picture project like you taught us,” he says. “Using pictures to help say what we feel.”
That’s the way, little man.
Jules puts a hand to her chest.
“Yep,” Charlie continues, “we’ve all brought in our favorite pictures about good things, like love. Are you ready to see them?”
“Yes!” Jules can’t contain her excitement. “I can’t wait.”
Charlie takes his place in line. “Okay, Lilly,” he says. “Hit it.”
Lilly is five years old. She has long red hair and is missing a few teeth. She’s wearing a bright green dress for the occasion and is the cutest thing. She takes a step toward Jules and holds up a picture of the rattiest-looking dog you’ve ever seen.
“This picture of my dog, Rex, makes me think about love,” Lilly says. “I took it of him after he snuck a big chunk of my brother’s birthday cake. He loves sweets and was so happy after he ate it.”
We all laugh as she moves back into her spot.
“Nice, Lilly,” I tell her.
Each kid steps forward with their pictures of their parents and friends, sport shots, favorite foods and toys. Then we land on Charlie.
He holds up his picture and I swallow the lump in my throat. He’s shown it to me before.
“This is a picture of my family before the accident,” he says. “It used to make me sad, but it doesn’t anymore. Now it makes me think of love, because it was the best family ever.”
Jules eyes are watery, but she doesn’t let any tears fall. She hugs Charlie and kisses the top of his head. “That is the best picture ever, Charlie. I love it. Come on in everyone, let’s hug it out. This was the best gift ever. Thank you so much.”
After the group hug, the kids all look to me.
“My turn,” I tell Jules, holding up her school picture from the year we met—which happens to be exactly six years ago today.
“Oh my God,” she says covering her mouth. “Where did you find that?”
“Shh,” I say. “Let me tell you about my picture.”
“Okay.” She holds up her hands. “Go on.”
“This picture makes me feel love because this was the first girl I met when I moved to the Cities, and she was my first real friend. She was also my first love, my first heartbreak—”
Now her tears are falling.
“I’ve held on to this picture for six years. I look at it when I wake up and before I go to bed. But I don’t want this picture anymore. I want the real thing.”
I reach in my pocket and get down on one knee. Yes, it’s cheesy and dramatic, but damn, my girl deserves all the cheesy drama a guy can deliver. She deserves the grand gesture and the long engagement and the white wedding. I want her to have every bit of it.
I hold out the ring. “Will you marry me?” I ask, with the kids squealing behind. “Or is all of this too ridiculous to take?”
She smiles. “I like ridiculous,” she says. “And I love you.” She sits on my knee and holds out her hand. “Make an honest woman out of me, Sutton.”
“Is that a yes?”
“It’s a hell yes!”
More squeals erupt from our little peanut gallery.
“Look away, kids,” I say.
Then I plant the grandest of all kisses on my girl.
The End
About the Author
Clare James is the author of steamy contemporary romance and new adult novels: BEFORE YOU GO, MORE, and DIRTY LITTLE LIES. A former dancer, Clare still loves to get her groove on—mostly to work off her beloved cupcakes and red wine.
A fan of spunky women, gorgeous guys, and super-hot romance, Clare spends most of her time lost in books. She lives in Minneapolis with her two leading men—her husband and young son—and loves to hear from her fans.
Find her at:
www.clarejamesbooks.com
@clarejamesbooks
http://www.facebook.com/clarejamesauthor