by A. J. Pine
“Hearing you say those three words is pretty magical,” she said. “But I should have trusted you anyway.”
He leaned toward her. “I thought you’d be dressed as Dorothy,” he said, his voice a low rumble in her ear.
“It’s a metaphor, you know,” she said. “Because I was an ass for not believing in you, and—”
He laughed, holding up his Cyrano nose. “And I’m the writer who can’t seem to find the right words when they’re not on the page.”
She bit her lip. “The Dorothy costume, though? That one’s at home,” she teased, and he couldn’t hold out any longer.
Jeremy pushed his way up to the front of the room and thrust the folded-up piece of paper at his sister—the one Wes had given him.
“What’s this?” she asked.
Jeremy narrowed his eyes. “Maybe this whole commitment thing isn’t for me, but hell if I’m going to watch you two put it off any longer. It’s a list of people Hartley knows who’ve already committed to signings at Two Stories.”
Annie sucked in a breath and stared at Wes. “How did you?” But her eyes roved around the room until she found Brynn and Jamie, and Brynn offered a guilty grin.
“You’ve got a lot of people who love you and who are looking out for you, Annie,” he said.
“And you were gonna—” Her breathing hitched. “You were going to be one of those people even after I messed it all up?”
He nodded. “That’s what happens when the heroine makes the hero fall in love, even when he doesn’t believe in it.”
Her hand flew to her mouth. “You read my blog?”
He raised a brow. “Kinda hard not to when there’s a draft post left open on my laptop.”
She made a move to put her mask back on, but he was done hiding—done letting her hide. Everything would be out in the open from here on out.
“For fuck’s sake, kiss her already, Hartley!”
He couldn’t help but laugh. Those were the last words he ever expected to leave Jeremy’s lips. But who was he to argue? They were out in the open after all.
And then he took her in his arms, his beautiful, amazing, forgiving, and forgiven donkey, and lowered her into a dip, much to the delight of their audience.
“I’m gonna kiss you now,” he said.
She smiled, that one small gesture obliterating him and building him back up all at once.
“I’m gonna let you,” she said.
He pulled her to him, and she threw her arms around his neck. He kissed her with wild, grateful abandon, in front of a room full of people.
Applause and whistles broke out, and she smiled against his lips. Maybe Jeremy’s lack of impulse control was infectious. Because when Annie was nearby, Wes couldn’t imagine doing anything other than what he was doing right now.
He brought her back upright but wasn’t ready to let go. So he kissed her once more and then laughed softly as he pulled away.
“What?” she asked.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the stairs while Beth tried to redirect the crowd back to the remaining bachelors.
“I just didn’t realize our first public kiss would be so—public. And that you’d be dressed as a donkey.”
Annie was laughing, too, but she stopped him before they reached Brynn and Jamie.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded. “But before we officially have our date, I need you to know one thing.”
He waited and worried as her face grew serious. But then her hand, or paw, or hoof—whatever it was—rested on his cheek, and that was all he needed. Wes knew that whatever came next, he’d get through it if it was with Annie.
“I want the happily ever after,” she said. “But I want everything else that comes with it—the fear, the uncertainty, the work—too.”
He grinned and reached for her hand, pulling off the glove so her skin was on his. Then he turned his head so his lips were on her palm, brushing her skin with a soft kiss.
“Happily ever after, huh?” He raised a brow. “Those things are for real?”
She smacked him on the shoulder. Then she lowered her hand and held it out between them.
“Shake on it,” she said. “Admit it’s real, and that you want a happy ending with me.”
He smiled but didn’t extend his hand. “I think we can come up with something better than a handshake.”
She raised her brows and pulled him to the stairs, past a smiling Brynn and Jamie, and down to the first floor.
“What did you have in mind?” she asked.
He leaned close and whispered in her ear.
“Show me what you want,” he said.
But he had a feeling he already knew.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Somebody should have warned her how freaking hot it would be inside a donkey suit. The damp tendrils at the nape of her neck were cold on her skin, and the T-shirt and shorts she wore beneath the costume were plastered to her body.
“Are you sure you don’t need any help in there?” Wes called from outside her bathroom door.
She reached behind her neck and found the zipper, letting out a relieved breath. This wasn’t their first time, but it was going to be the first time with the whole I love you thing out there, and the last thing Annie wanted was for him to see her as a sweaty mess on what was turning into the most romantic night of her life.
“I’m good,” she called back to him. “Out in a few. Just—uh, make yourself comfortable.”
“Okay,” he said, and she detected a hint of disappointment in his voice.
She looked at herself in the mirror, her red waves in various asymmetrical angles surrounding her face, some of them matted to her forehead. From neck to toe she was a complete and utter ass, and she couldn’t help but remember Oksana from the wedding—or the pages she inhabited in Wes’s first book. It wasn’t that Annie wasn’t a confident girl. He loved her. She knew it, believed it, and felt it in every vein as her heartbeat pulsed through her.
But what the hell was she thinking dressing up as a donkey to win him back? She wasn’t exactly thinking about what came after the grand gesture when she’d set this plan in motion. You didn’t just come home and sexily tear off an Eeyore costume.
But she wanted out of it now, so she tugged at the zipper and got it down a couple of inches before it stopped.
She groaned.
“Annie?”
She jumped, Wes’s voice startling her so that her hand jerked the zipper back up to the top. And now it wouldn’t budge at all.
“I thought you were making yourself comfortable,” she accused, immediately regretting the annoyance in her tone.
She heard him laugh softly.
“Kind of hard to do if I’m not wrapped around you,” he teased.
She had no choice. She threw open the door and crossed her donkey-clad arms and tapped her donkey-covered foot.
“I’m stuck,” she said with a small pout. “How’s that for comfortable?”
He bit back a smile, but she shook her head.
“Go ahead. Laugh.” She threw her arms in the air. “This will be a great one for the book. Um…you know, if you’re still working on the ending and are looking for a super sexy finale. I mean—if Jack and Evie get their happily ever after. Not that it’s any of my business.”
She groaned louder, expecting this, not her stupid costume, to be what ruined their reconciliation—reminding Wes how she’d not only invaded his privacy but also assumed the worst of him when she did.
“Turn around, please,” was all he said, and Annie was so caught off guard that she did.
He unzipped the costume with ease, and she stepped out of it as it fell to the floor. She turned back to face him, her white T-shirt that read fictional character plastered to her chest. He ran a finger beneath the words, as if he was underlining them, and Annie’s frown quickly morphed into an openmouthed gasp.
“You were never fiction for me, Annie,” he said, his voice soft and insistent.
“Even when I wasn’t willing to admit it, you were always more. Words on the page are just that. But us?” He dipped his head and kissed the exposed skin on her neck. “We’re real life. Maybe there is no yellow brick road pointing us toward Oz because, shit—I sure as hell have been lost for far too long. But I found it anyway, the Emerald City, and you want to know what it is? It’s this girl who challenges me, who isn’t afraid to show me what she wants, who calls me on my bullshit, and who’s seen me at my lowest, my most broken, and loved me anyway. And donkey costume or not, she’s the sexiest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and I’m still kind of floored she chose me.”
He brushed the matted hair from her forehead, and she let out a shaky breath.
“That,” she said. “That’s why I didn’t like the first book. Your hero hid himself away and never let anyone see cracks in his armor. No one ever truly knew him, which meant he could never truly be happy. And the hardest part of it all was that he chose that path, the one that never really seemed to have a destination.”
Wes raised his brows. “That’s not me. Annie. Neither is Jack. Not completely, at least. There’s a little bit of truth in all fiction, but my fiction isn’t my whole truth. You believe that now, right?”
She shrugged. “I might need a little more convincing.”
He tugged at the hem of her shirt. “I already finished book two. Jack and Evie get their happy ending. Because you were right.”
“About what?” she asked.
“There is such a thing as a happily ever after. But this one’s just for us.”
He kissed her then, and Annie’s shoulders relaxed. She melted into him, forgetting that she was standing with a donkey costume pooled at her feet or that she’d ever been worried about how this evening would end.
She backed over the donkey and into the bathroom, pulling him with her as she did. She managed to keep her lips pressed to his as she reached to turn on the shower. She undressed him and let him undress her, and she took a few seconds to marvel at the beautiful man standing in front of her—the boy she’d known so many years ago.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
She nodded. “Only—I don’t want a happy ending,” she said.
He kissed her then, his tongue slipping past her lips, and she knew the end was nowhere in sight.
“I love you, Annie.” He pulled her with him into the growing cloud of steam.
“I love you, too,” she said, her hands splayed against his chest as beads of water pebbled his skin.
“Good.” He kissed her again. “Because this is only the beginning.”
…
Annie lay on the bed next to him, her pillow soaked from her freshly washed hair. He kissed her, his lips light on hers, tongue teasing but not entering. His hand traveled down her neck and over her breast, relishing the way her body moved in reaction to his touch, feeling her sharp intake of breath when his thumb grazed her peaked nipple. He didn’t stop there, though, but kept traveling until his hand rested between her legs.
She sucked in a breath.
And he paused.
“Show me, Annie. Show me what you want.”
She let out a soft moan, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep it together for this.
“You already know.” Her words came out as a breath.
“It’s different now,” he argued, then softly kissed her neck.
She must have agreed because she placed her hand over his.
“Every time with you is like starting over,” he said. “Because each touch reminds me how lucky I am that I didn’t scare you away—how grateful I am that you fought for us.” He kissed her again, this time more insistent. “I love you.” Another kiss.
“I love you,” she echoed.
And together they guided his hand down farther until he slipped inside.
“Once upon a time,” he said softly in her ear, “there was Annie and Wes. And they were happy.”
His lips found hers again as he moved inside her, Annie leading him every step of the way.
“Sounds like a pretty boring story,” she said, and he felt her lips part into a smile.
He tilted his head up so his eyes met her emerald green gaze.
“Hey, watch it, there,” he teased. “That’s the story of my life.”
She rested her free palm on his cheek and smiled the sweetest smile, the kind he knew was only for him.
“Mine, too,” she said.
He nodded. “Okay, then.”
“Okay,” she said.
He kissed her again because there was nothing more that needed to be said. The right words had always been there. The only thing missing—was her.
Epilogue
Eight Months Later
Annie signed the contract and slid it across her desk to Brynn. Brynn signed her name as well.
“There’s no turning back now, Chandler. So I hope you’re sure about this.”
Her friend smiled. “It’s time I step outside my comfort zone, too,” Brynn said. “I’ve always loved this place, Annie. I’m honored you trust me with half of it,” she added. “And with all the special events we’ve already had and the ones we have lined up for the next half a year, I’m predicting a mild uptick in revenue.”
“A mild uptick?” Annie said, brows raised.
“Please,” Brynn said. “With a financial genius like me in charge for the next six months, this place will be wallpapered with dollar bills when you get back.
“That’s super tacky,” Annie said. “Please don’t do that. It won’t go with the furniture. But if you want to redecorate your office? Have at it!”
Brynn swatted her on the shoulder.
Annie held out her hand, and the two women shook. “Partners,” she said.
“Partners,” Brynn echoed, and then she pulled her friend in for a warm hug.
Annie frowned. “Maybe I should postpone the trip, though. I mean, this is still so new, and it’s going to mean more hours for you while you’re planning the wedding and—”
“Annie.”
“Yeah?”
Brynn grinned. “You’re coming back between each tour stop. I’ve got Tabitha and the new guy we hired. I’m here all the time as it is. Now I’ll just push the merchandise a little harder. Plus you’ve got a wedding to attend in December. Actually, we’re going to see each other too much in the next six months. Can we cut back on the visits?”
Annie giggled, and both of them stood and headed for the door, hand in hand.
“I’ll be back every month,” Annie said, convincing herself that would be enough, that everything would be okay, that she wouldn’t miss Brynn and Jeremy and Jamie terribly, that this adventure with Wes—this was what came after the end of a romance novel. This was the start of their ever after.
Brynn kissed her on the cheek. “Now let’s go enjoy the party.”
They exited the office together, and then Annie followed Brynn down the stairs to the usually cozy reading nook on the first floor of Two Stories. Tonight it was bustling with caterers serving hors d’oeuvres, flutes of champagne, and, of course, bottles of Jamie Kingston’s brews. She waved to Wes who smiled at her from behind his signing table, a line of patrons already forming just minutes after they’d opened the doors.
“I don’t want to release the book in New York,” he’d told her a few months before. They were lying in bed, and he was tracing lazy circles around her belly button, driving her mad like he always did.
She’d looked at him like he was crazy. “That’s the place to release a book, Wes. That’s where your publisher is, your agent. They’ve got you all set up to do that great indie store.”
He’d shaken his head. “I’ll still do a stop there, but it’s not the place to launch the book.”
And she’d known without him saying anything more, and her eyes filled with tears as he kissed her.
“The book launches where the story began—with you. And it’s too late to say no because Max is already ironing out the de
tails, so I hope you’re up for the extra business.”
She watched him now, about to embark on the biggest adventure of his life, and he wanted her to be a part of it. His dad and Sarah stood nearby, proudly holding their already signed books. Annie’s mom waved from where she stood next to Theresa and Dad, the three of them apparently heading to a show at the Steppenwolf after the event. Doug and Dan had a coffee cart set up by the register, another partnership they were trying out. They’d sell coffee at the big events and would in turn give Two Stories shelf space at Hot Latte so that patrons who were looking for something to read might be inclined to buy a book—and to head down the block to see what else was available. Who knew? That could be her next partnership. When she returned, of course.
Everyone was here for her and for Wes—for his big night.
He stood when she got near, and her heart swelled to see him so happy, to be this happy herself. Wes Hartley wasn’t a placeholder. He was all too real, and as much as that scared her, she’d also never felt more alive than when he was near.
“Folks,” he said, reaching for Annie’s hand and pulling her close. “This is Annie.”
There were mild gasps, and some ooohs and aaahs. Annie’s brows furrowed.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
He grabbed the display book from his table and handed it to her. She’d read the book more than once, but in all the craziness of the past couple of months—of drawing up the papers for the partnership, getting ready for six months of on and off travel, she hadn’t actually held the printed book in her hand. In fact, Wes never showed her an advance copy, and when the shipment came in a few days ago, he’d whisked her out for a celebratory drink while Tabitha and Brynn did the unpacking.
“I didn’t want you to see the dedication until now,” he said, a nervous grin on his face.
Annie’s heart always seemed to speed up when he was around, but now it beat in overdrive.
“I don’t—” she stammered. “I’m not sure I can read it in front of”—she leaned closer to him and whisper shouted—“all of them.”
Quiet laughter filled the room, and while Annie didn’t think anyone was laughing at her, she knew there was a punch line she wasn’t getting.