Love Connection

by Crimson Romance

  A shoulder nudged against hers, and she whipped around, coming face to face with Richard Morgan.

  “Excuse me, Miss Sinclair. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Richard’s easy smile revealed a beautiful set of straight white teeth and a dimple in his cheek.

  “Oh, no, it’s fine. I’m fine. I mean, hello, Merry Christmas, sir.” She stammered, warmth flooding her cheeks. When she recovered from her flub, she realized that there was nothing, no jolt of excitement, no buzzing attraction. Nothing. Ben had taken up residence in her heart and there wasn’t room for anyone else.

  An indescribably beautiful woman approached and kissed Richard on the cheek. Rebecca dropped her gaze and sipped her drink. The woman laid an elegant hand on Richard’s lapel, and the sparkles from her engagement ring threatened to blind Rebecca. She was distracted only long enough to miss the woman’s equally elegant baby bump for a moment. Why had she wasted any time on this silly crush? It was so obvious now that it was embarrassing. Everything she could ever want in a man had been right in front of her all along, but instead of taking it, she distracted herself with stupid fantasies. She was finished with that, and it was time to take a leap of faith—if Ben would still have her, of course. She wished the couple happy holidays and left the bar in search of her best friend.

  As she wove between the rapidly filling dinner tables, her attention was caught by a figure in her peripheral vision, and without even focusing, she knew it was Ben. His brown hair was neat, probably freshly cut, and his silvery grey tie matched her dress nicely, as if they’d planned it. Her heart swelled when he turned his head and their eyes met.

  She missed him. She needed him.

  She didn’t deserve him, but hopefully that didn’t mean she couldn’t have him.

  Before she could chicken out, Rebecca was on her feet and walking to Ben’s table. He sat up straight in his chair while she approached, but he didn’t rise.

  “Hey.” His voice was husky, rough, and his eyes were wary.

  “Hey. I didn’t know if—” she paused, swallowing against the lump forming in her throat, “if you would be here tonight.” She choked the last part out and clasped her hands together to still the shaking.

  He took a sip from his wine glass. “Couldn’t resist those truffles,” he said dryly.

  Awkwardly, Rebecca shifted, suddenly consciously aware of the hush that had fallen over his table. Six legal eagles were staring at them with avid interest.

  “Can we talk? Somewhere private?”

  Ben looked at her for a long moment, and then finally stood up with a curt nod to Rebecca’s relief. He was obviously still angry, but at least, he was willing to listen. She led him through the ballroom, weaving in and out of the crowd, until they made it out to the lobby. Rebecca headed for a relatively quiet corner, sinking down on a plush velvet sofa and Ben sat down beside her, leaving several careful inches between them. A pianist played softly on the other side of the reception area, couples came in from the cold, shaking snow off of their coats, and party guests filtered in and out of the ballrooms. Laughter, music, and chatter filled the air, but all Rebecca could hear was her heartbeat. Ben’s serious face and stoic silence had Rebecca’s nerves jumping. He was waiting for an answer, and it was her turn to face her fears. He’d laid everything out to her and was still willing to hear her out after she’d been unable to take a chance on him. Ben deserved better, and she was finally ready to give it to him.

  Before, it was easy to ignore her feelings and tell herself that there would always be time and that he’d always be available. His refusal to be taken for granted forced her hand. It was time to either admit to herself that she wanted to be with him or be willing to lose him forever.

  She inhaled with a deep, shuddering sound, overwhelmed with emotion. “I can’t stand not seeing you. I’ve missed you so much.” Tears threatened to spill over her lashes, and she cleared her throat.

  “You’re the one who walked out.” Ben said softly, but not unkindly.

  “I was wrong, so wrong, and I’m sorry. I took you for granted, and I’ve never regretted anything more in my life. I want you back. I need you.” She pleaded with him, so afraid that he would get up and walk away. She put her hand on his leg and looked into his eyes. Her future, her home, was sitting right beside her, and he had been there all along. She’d just been too scared to admit it to herself. “I love you, Ben. I just got scared and ran away, but I won’t run again. I’m here now, and if you’ll have me, I’ll stay.”

  “So, are you saying that you’re ready to take a real chance on us?” Ben’s expression was cautiously optimistic, and it gave her courage to continue.

  “If it’s not too late, yes,” she paused, waiting for a reaction. “Besides, Richard Morgan is apparently taken.”

  He smiled at that, tentatively, but it was there and inwardly she sighed with relief. “I think I might have mentioned that.”

  “Yeah, well I was stupid,” she smile sheepishly, then grew more serious. “Ben, I was really stupid. When I think of all the time I wasted…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “I think that the reason I haven’t found “The One” yet is because he’s been in front of me all along. Nobody else could ever be better for me than you. I want to be with you, because I’m in love with you.”

  “Are you certain?”

  She had never been surer of anything in her life. “Yes. One hundred percent.”

  He smiled then, a real, genuine, deep smile. The kind that crinkled the corners of his eyes and lit up his face. “I love you too. I always have, and I always will.”

  Ben took Rebecca’s face in his hands and she stared into his gorgeous blue eyes. She should have seen it years ago, but maybe it was best this way. Maybe she hadn’t been ready until right now. A few years ago she would’ve found a reason to push him away, would’ve sabotaged a good thing. She nearly had now. It was years in the making, but it was right. She knew it for sure.

  She lifted her face to his and pressed a kiss to his mouth. Ben pulled her into his arms, embracing her tightly as he deepened the kiss. Rebecca’s heart sang out with pleasure. This is where she belonged, in the arms of the man she loved. Ben pulled back and took a small, beautifully wrapped gift from his jacket pocket. The telltale gold wrapping paper was the same as each holiday gift she’d received.

  Rebecca read the tag aloud. “'Love, Your Secret Santa.' I knew it was you.”

  Ben pressed another kiss to her lips. “It was me all along.”

  About the Author

  Monica Tillery has been a social worker and a massage therapist, but is now living her dream as a romance novelist. She loves nothing more than to get lost in a beautiful love story, holding her breath as the hero and heroine fight their way through obstacles to get to their happily ever after. Monica lives in Texas with her own real-life romance hero, her husband of over a dozen years, and two wonderful sons. When she’s not reading and writing romance, Monica loves playing bunco and bingo, hanging out with friends, and wasting time online. She loves hearing from and connecting with readers. Follow her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/monicatilleryauthor, on Twitter @monicatillery, or visit her website: www.monicatillery.com.

  The Election Connection

  Monica Tillery

  Avon, Massachusetts

  Copyright © 2015 by Monica Tillery.

  All rights reserved.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher; exceptions are made for brief excerpts used in published reviews.

  Published by

  Crimson Romance

  an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.

  10151 Carver Road, Suite 200

  Blue Ash, OH 45242. U.S.A.

  www.crimsonromance.com

  ISBN 10: 1-4405-9066-4

  ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-9066-5

  eISBN 10: 1-4405-9067-2

  eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-9067-2

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institu
tions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author's imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.

  Cover art © istockphoto/steinphoto and emarto; 123RF: Andriy Popov

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  For our beautiful cousin, Ashley Tillery Weeks,

  in honor of your sacrifice, and in loving memory of

  Army Specialist Ari Daniel Brown-Weeks

  1984-2007

  Forever in our hearts

  Acknowledgments

  No matter what I write, it’s always better after my wonderful editor, Jess Verdi, gets her hands on it. Thank you for another amazing job! It was fun and gratifying to work with you, as always, and I can’t wait to do it again.

  Thank you also to Tara Gelsomino for believing in me and my book. I truly love working with you and look forward to a bright future together.

  As always, thank you to my wonderful husband, Dave, for your unwavering support and enthusiasm. You are awesome.

  Chapter One

  Lily Ashton took Congressman Ford Richardson’s offered hand and pulled herself out of the Town Car, careful not to scuff her Louboutins on the pavement or flash her panties to the paparazzi. Ford kissed her temple before waving to the crowd and flashing his best campaign smile. As usual, she played it up, gazing at him in adoration for the cameras, though to be honest, it wasn’t much of a chore. His thick, dark hair, strong jaw, and polished good looks were easy on the eyes. He wore a suit like nobody’s business, but they hadn’t been dating quite long enough for her to know what was beneath those expensive fabrics. She had a good idea, though, and the warm, muscled skin she felt beneath her hands when she slipped her arm around his waist during fundraisers and cocktail parties told her she was in for quite a treat if things ever went that far.

  They hurried past the onlookers, tossing out smiles and waves, but no comments, until they reached the hotel where her best friend’s wedding reception would be held. Once they were safely inside the posh lobby, Ford slowed his stride and took her hand. Her heels clicked against the mirror-smooth marble floors, and the rush of guests traveling through the space moved the hotel’s signature lemon-coconut scent over them in a fragrant breeze.

  “Thank you for that.” He always softened when they were alone, turning off the public persona and becoming more human and less politician.

  “For what?” She smoothed her hair and took in the details of the gorgeous hotel lobby. From the impeccably dressed hotel employees to the sophisticated décor, every aspect of the space screamed elegant decadence.

  “For the pictures out there. This is Carly’s day, not mine. I wish we could just go out sometimes and not have photographers waiting outside.” He’d leaned close enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath on her neck and catch a hint of his sophisticated scent.

  If he thought any of the paparazzi outside had come to catch a glimpse of him, then the campaign had scrambled his brain. Carly and her new husband, Michael, were both amazing bakers who met as rival contestants on a reality baking show but ended up falling in love last year when they teamed up to work on a celebrity wedding. Their popularity exploded when they joined forces to create a show on the Cuisine Network where they traveled the world, putting their own spin on popular tourist attractions with inventive themed cakes. Viewers were rewarded with a romantic proposal on the last episode of the season, and the big day had finally come. They had made a slew of famous friends through the show and in working on high-profile weddings. Their reception was going to be teeming with A-listers from every facet of entertainment.

  “We can, but maybe not to the wedding of two television stars who have a ton of famous friends. I’m sure half the paparazzi don’t even know who they’re waiting for, and you just got some free publicity, Congressman. You’re welcome.” Cameras did follow Ford much of the time they went out, but sometimes she wondered if he didn’t enjoy the attention a little more than he let on.

  With a gentle hand at her elbow, he led her into the reception, and she stood in awe of her friend’s glamorous dream made reality. Lily had worked closely with Carly during every step of the wedding and reception planning, but seeing it all come together was breathtaking. The hotel was spectacular, but the decorated ballroom was almost unbelievable. Soft pinks, creamy ivories, and stark blacks mingled in the fabrics, their wedding cake, the china, and linens. It was gorgeous, but weddings were always bittersweet for her.

  She felt mentally healthy enough to be genuinely happy for her friend, though, and watching the pair say their vows earlier was magical. Lily was ready to celebrate them now. The newly married couple bustled into the lobby and stood outside the ballroom doors, waiting for the emcee to announce their arrival, so there was no time for self-pity. She exchanged elated grins with Carly and watched as they drifted in, the crowd parting for them, and walked to the dance floor.

  “Please welcome, for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Michael Welch!” the DJ’s voice boomed through the speakers. Wild applause and cheers drowned out the first strains of Stevie Wonder’s “For Once in my Life” as they moved to the center of the dance floor to share their first dance as husband and wife. Michael gazed down at Carly as he held her in his arms, his expression one of a man completely and utterly consumed by love. Lily couldn’t hear what they murmured to one another, but she knew it was sweet. It was amazing to see her friend find someone so perfect for her.

  Ford pulled Lily close, and she laid her head on his shoulder as they watched Carly dance with her new husband. A lump formed in her throat, and she swiped a single tear from under her lashes, determined not to make a mess of her makeup tonight. How many first dances would she watch before her first thought wasn’t of Nathan? Ford kissed the top of her head, and they parted to clap for the couple as the song ended. Carly had planned an elaborate sit-down dinner, so Lily and Ford wound through the crowd to the head table to take their seats. Ever the gentleman, he pulled her chair out for her and helped her push it under the table before chatting with the other wedding party members.

  Carly and Michael arrived at the table, flushed with happiness, and took their seats in the middle, with Carly sitting beside Lily.

  Lily leaned over and gave her friend a hug. “Everything looks absolutely perfect, Mrs. Welch.” Carly’s huge grin was proof that she was over the moon. “Be sure to eat at least a little of every course before you get back out there and circulate. You won’t get another chance once you leave this table.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem. I’m starving.” Carly sat back and accepted her salad from the uniformed waiter. Laughing the whole time, she let Michael feed her a forkful of leafy greens.

  Courses came and went on exquisite china: there was a green salad, creamy tomato bisque, filet mignon paired with asparagus tips and herbed potatoes, and finally an elegant scoop of perfectly smooth lemon sorbet. Lily indulged herself in the decadent meal, just this once. She’d been blessed with the fast metabolism that made it possible for her to eat like a normal person while building a career in modeling, but she knew better than to push her luck. At twenty-seven, a slower metabolism could be lurking around the corner, waiting to knock her out of modeling and into something that would make her glad she’d gone ahead and finished college. Transitioning to full-time work at Soldier On was something she wanted to do on her own timeline rather than be forced into it because she needed a job.

  A waiter swept by the table, giving every guest a cut
crystal flute of bubbly, and Lily reviewed her maid of honor toast in her head. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t say anything stupid, and wouldn’t embarrass the congressman. She wasn’t technically his girlfriend, but when they were on dates she responded to an unspoken pressure to present herself a certain way.

  She looked out into the sea of faces, seeing familiar friends and family interspersed with celebrities from music and television and plenty of industry professionals from Michael and Carly’s life she had never met. Lily didn’t care about connections one way or the other, but Ford was likely drooling from the possibilities. Celebrity endorsements would be like gold for his re-election campaign.

  She stood to give her speech, eyes already welling up before she’d uttered a single word. So much for not getting too emotional. Carly was the best person she knew, and no words could do their friendship justice, but she’d try. Dozens of hours spent at her laptop had finally resulted in a speech that conveyed at least some of the immense love and gratitude she had for her best friend.

  “Carly and Michael, my heart is so full for you today. America watched you fall in love on television, and the real thing is just as beautiful as what they saw on screen.” She took a deep breath to steady her nerves before continuing, and Carly took her hand.

  “Carly, I’ll never forget the day we met, in ninth grade biology class. You were already great with a knife, and I was well on my way to relying on you to catch me when I fall. I know you weren’t expecting your lab partner to faint beside you, but I was so glad you were there. And you’ve been there for me ever since.