Exclusive: Princess Presley Duet Book Two (Full Circle Series 3)

by S. E. Hall

  But it was never about self-pity, never, despite sounding too damn much like just that. It’s always been about my parents and what they missed out on… the biggest of those sacrifices being another baby. That day, the conversation was born of a pregnancy scare. My mom was scared, and sad, instead of excited at the possibility of being pregnant. I think I remember her actually shaking as she and my aunts Laney, Bennet and Whitley had stood over the pregnancy test, waiting for the results, and when it came up negative — no baby — my mom sighed in relief. Relief. That I definitely remember. As clearly as what Aunt Laney said to her; ‘there’s a reason for everything, Em. Can you imagine Presley having to share or compete for her dad’s attention?’

  After giving him time to process all that, I speak again, finishing up; I hope. “That was it. I knew, right then and there, what the rest of my life would, and wouldn’t, entail. And Sutton, you should’ve seen him, Daddy… he was unbelievable. He delivered a baby. A baby. By himself, in the middle of nowhere. And the brother, this little boy named Austin, well, I’m pretty sure Sutton will be his hero for the rest of his life. Hell, he’ll be mine, too.”

  Dad’s eyes went wide. “He did what?”

  I bob my head, and start reeling off the story even faster than my suddenly-acquired jazz hands do their thing; my amazement and admiration having not dimmed a bit. And then… I reach the finale. “So now you know everything, and why I have to let him go.”

  “Um, no, Princess, I don’t. Real fuzzy on the ‘have to let him go’ part.”

  Gulping down my sorrow, I give it one more go. “Dad, I already knew it, but watching him with that mom, little boy, baby… I can’t keep pretending, coasting along, wasting Sutton’s time that he could be spending looking for the woman he deserves. JT might’ve always talked about his good-off roommate, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. Once you get to know Sutton Ellis, you can’t not see — he has doting husband and father coursing through his veins. We’re talking quintessential coach of every sport, treehouse building, tea party having, never forget an anniversary and bring her breakfast in bed, family man. He’s destined for great, meaningful moments, Daddy.”

  “I need a beer. There beer in the fridge?” he asks out of nowhere, heading inside. “Come on, Hank. Grandpa’ll get ya some food and water.”

  I have no idea whether we’re done, or just taking an intermission, so I stay put, rubbing at my throbbing temples. I’m tempted to text Sutton, thanking him, but I resist, determined to truly go cold-turkey with the back and forth I’ve put him through for too long. Plus, in epically-timed grandeur, Dad rejoins me, carrying a big bowl filled with ice and beers, sparing me further torturing debate.

  “Drink slow, there’s only one twenty-four pack in there,” he warns, as though a suitcase isn’t enough, handing me a can and cracking open his own. “Hank stayed inside, gonna have himself a nap once his belly’s full.” I quit correcting him on the dog’s name a good hour ago; he’ll just do it more if I keep letting on it bothers me. After a long swig of his Miller Lite, he turns a brow of worry lines and thinned assessing eyes to me. “I’ve liked Sutton from day one; like him even better after he showed me his balls with his visit to me, and everything you’ve told me, but now I’m gonna need you to explain why you aren’t the woman he deserves.”

  “I did, you just weren’t listening.”

  “I’ve listened, closely, to every word that’s come outta your mouth.”

  I inhale patiently and roll my neck clockwise, then counter, and put down half my beer in one swallow. “You may’ve been listening, but you weren’t hearing me, Daddy. When I said I’d never take the sacrifices you and Mom made for me for granted, never slap y’all in the face with it, it wasn’t just bullshit lip service, I meant it. I’m not ever having kids, or a picture-perfect little family. How selfish and unfair would that be?”

  He chokes, mid-drink, spraying out his mouthful, coughing so hard I jump up to beat on his back. Red-faced but recovered, he stares at me as if I just sprouted another head. “Let me see if I’m hearing you right now. So, because of the warped, cockamamie bullshit version of things you’ve built up in your head where you’re not my ‘real daughter,’ even though I’m looking right at ya and you’re looking pretty real…” he pokes me in the arm, “feel pretty damn real too, and having you as a daughter was some big hardship for me and your mama, you’re planning on paying us back by swearing off marriage and kids?”

  “You’re saying it wrong, making it sound stupid.”

  “That’s not me, Princess. That’s your plan; doing it all by itself. Impossible for it not to sound stupid… because it is.”

  My brows and eyes go up, way up, while my jaw drops down. Way down. “Did you just call me stupid?” I shriek in shock.

  He nods. “Yup.”

  Flabbergasted, I plop into my chair… and pout. Crossed arms, scowl, frumped lip pout.

  “Allow me to set your ass straight, on quite a few things, young lady. The second your mama told me she was pregnant, you. Were. Mine. Mine. For real. I was at every appointment, sang and talked to you through her belly every night, stood at the chute to catch you in case the doctor fucked up the pass, and was the first person to hold you in my arms. I named you. I guarded you from your crazy ass aunts. Tattooed you over my heart. Besides the woman who was over-the-moon happy to have you in her belly, you are the most wonderful, wanted, adored, sacred blessing in my entire world.”

  “Daddy,” I whisper.

  “Not finished. Zip it. Your mom was relieved that day, about not being pregnant, because she’d had a few false alarms and early-term miscarriages. She just didn’t want any more disappointment is all. And what Laney said, really was a joke. Appropriate, because another baby would’ve had a helluva time getting me to see anyone but my Princess Pants, but still, a joke. And that is how it all actually happened.” He heaves in and out, grabs another beer, and doesn’t come up for air until it’s empty. I’m silent, biting my lip to ensure I stay that way, and stare off into the distance.

  How wrong I’d been, about everything. Literally, from start to finish, I hadn’t gotten a single thing right. Except for my ultra-wariness at parties, that part, although not rehashed today, had happened, and I’ll never regret my “guard,” or let it down. And my dog, Castello, not Hank — I’d demanded a pound mutt because that’s what I thought I was — unwanted and of unknown origin. Although wrong on my theory, he’s perfect, and I’ll never regret him either.

  I glance over at my father, confused as to why he’s still fuming. And what have I learned today? If the least bit unsure, ask. “Daddy, I understand, I believe you, and I’m very sorry. Why are you still so upset?”

  “I’m just struggling with how you thought you’d pay us back,” he shakes his head, huffing louder, “ya know, reward us, by denying us the things we want most; you, happy, with a loving husband, nice house, family, and for God’s sake, grandchildren! Showing your mama you appreciate her by depriving her of grandbabies? Could you of gotten that more ass backwards?”

  “I, uh, I…” don’t know what to say. He’s absolutely right, but I can’t reverse twenty-plus years of one concrete mindset just like that. Can I?

  “Yes, you can!” he answers what I must’ve thought… aloud. “Not sayin’ ya gotta get started on that shit tonight or anything, but I’d feel a whole lot better if you’d promise me it’s no longer completely off the table. I mean, look at Hank; one meeting and he adores his grandpa. Just think what I could do with a mini Princess.”

  Amazing things, that’s what he could do, just like he had with me. But we might be getting a little ahead of ourselves here, seeing as how I’ve had a whole two minutes to even consider ever considering it, I now, thanks to my own assumptions and flighty feet, have no man in my life, and last, but blaringly, scarily, death-wish-havingly far from least — should I so much as think the word “baby” before married, actively trying Skylar is holding one in her arms — there will be the secret Hell,
hidden below the Hell everyone knows about, to pay.

  “Guess she better get crackin’ then,” Dad laughs, responding to yet another thought I unknowingly aired, and playing upon my competitive streak for his purposes. “I’ve got my money on you and Biggun’.” He gets in one more goad.

  “Do you see Biggun’ around here anywhere? No; and you won’t. Put your money away, Daddy,” I whisper… and help myself to another beer.

  “Can you please tell me what’s going on? Why did Sawyer call you, and why are we taking an Uber when we both own cars?”

  “I’m not exactly sure, Mrs. Beckett, I’m just following your husband’s instructions,” I say as I guide her to the Uber waiting in her driveway. “His text was a bit cryptic, but I’ve no doubt he knows what he’s doing.”

  “Ha,” she scoffs, “are you trying to make me feel better or worse? And enough ‘Mrs. Beckett.’ Call me Emmett.”

  “Will do, Emmett.” I smile and open the back door for her, then slide in beside her and tell the driver to head to the second and final address I’d put on the order.

  “Which is where?” Emmett asks me.

  “Your family’s cabin. He and Presley are out there and asked that we come meet them.”

  “What are they doing at the cabin? Without mentioning it to anyone, least of all me? Sutton,” she wrings both hands together in her lap, worry painting over her face, “honey, what aren’t you telling me?”

  A lot.

  “Mrs., sorry, Emmett,” I reach for one of her busy hands and softly squeeze, smiling again in what I hope is reassurance. “As your future son-in-law, I refuse to lie to you, but I also won’t speak out of turn. I hope you can respect that.”

  Something tells me she didn’t hear all I said, and if forced to guess, I’d say she checked out as ‘law’ was leaving my mouth… ‘cause that’s about the time she squeezed the shit out of my hand and the corners of her mouth reached for her eyes… and stayed stuck.

  “Son-in-law?” She dreams in voice.

  “If I have my way.” I nod. “And if your husband took care of things; like I believe only he can, and did. And I will tell you this, they’re both safe, no one’s hurt or anything like that, so, please try not to worry. Oh, and I’m madly in love with your spectacular daughter. I want to covet her for the rest of our lives, if she’ll let me, and it’s okay with you and her father of course.”

  She shrieks, grabbing the sides of my face and yanking it down to rain kisses over both cheeks. “You wonderful, sweet handsome boy, yes, yes, yes!” I chuckle, hoping Presley, the one I actually someday propose to, is half as excited. “I had a feeling, the very first time I watched the two of you together, that you were the one. The one who’d finally melt my baby’s heart.”

  “You have no idea how badly I hope you’re right.”

  Please, God, please have let him say exactly what she needed to hear, to heal, in exactly the right way. I’m begging you.

  Epilogue

  5 months later

  Ever since that day at the cabin, when Sutton and my mom showed up to drive mine and dad’s drunk asses home, things have been different. Wonderfully different. The “talk” stayed between my father and me only — Sutton didn’t ask, my new “lightness” all he needed to know, and I got my truth, so no need dredging it back up for my mom — but I’m sure she too has noticed changes in me.

  I love freely, right out in the open, reaching to hold Sutton’s hand, or leaning in to give him a kiss, anytime and anywhere the urge strikes.

  And though I can’t get through a single phone call or visit with my mom, or dad, without at least one “grandbaby hint” being dropped, I’m still not ready to even put it on my radar. I refuse to cheat myself out of “our time,” just me and Sutton, doing, going, and enjoying each other.

  And do we ever enjoy each other, often, twice a day.

  Today, he’s got a surprise for me, and whereas surprises used to scare the hell out of me, I’m nothing but excited to see what’s got him so excited.

  “Keep ‘em closed,” he says as the truck comes to a stop. “I’ll come around and help you out.”

  If she doesn’t like it, I’ll keep searching, but I really hope she does… because I love it.

  “Okay, open your eyes, Sugar.”

  For too many seconds, she says nothing, but then, she glances at me over her shoulder, those violet eyes I loved at first sight twinkling as bright as her smile. “It’s beautiful. Whose is it?”

  “Well, since you called it beautiful, and your face is telling me you really mean it… it’s ours. Or, it will be, as soon as you approve the inside, and I call the realtor back.”

  Her hands fly to her mouth, catching her gasp, then drop so she can squeal, “You bought, are buying, it? A house? When? How?”

  I open my arms and up she goes, into my hold; a favorite move for both of us. “I am if you tell me you’d be happy living in it, and just as soon as you say you’d be happy living in it.” I laugh, kissing her irresistible lips. “And, with money. My money, that I worked for and invested well. I know it’s not huge, but it’s a great starter home for a young couple, a good neighborhood, and most importantly, it’s ours. Acquired on our own, no help or handouts. Wanna go look inside?”

  “Yes!” She bounces against me, taking a kiss.

  “Come on, Hank, let’s go check it out,” I call our dog, who jumps out of the truck and runs for the front door; answering as easily, if not better, to his “second” name.

  Regardless if it’s this house, or another we find, it will be a house — soon— she had no objections or hesitation on that front. Which means, Presley and I are moving in together, step four-hundred-eighty-seven in my plan I’d started carefully laying long ago.

  I’d done it. I got my girl. All of her. Happy, healed, and whole.

  I can’t wait to start christening every square inch of whatever we choose… especially since her dad rides my ass non-stop about his missing grandchildren.

  The End… of this chapter of our lives

  To all of you who make this dream of mine possible, THANK YOU!

  And if I’m living right, you know who you are and how much I appreciate you! If not, you have my permission to come kick some manners into my ass.

  XO

  S.E. Hall

  S.E. Hall is the NYTimes & USA Today bestselling author of the Evolve Series, the Full Circle Series, a spinoff from the Evolve Series, and standalone contemporary romances Pretty Instinct, Pretty Remedy and Unstable.

  S.E., which stands for Stephanie Elaine, resides in Arkansas with her husband of 21 years and three amazing daughters of the home. She is also blessed with an older, married daughter, and son-in-law, who graced her with three beautiful grandchildren. And last, but far from least, is Roscoe—her precious lil’ lamb of a dog and best friend in the entire world… who can always be found right by her side.

  When not watching her baby girl rule the mound of fastpitch softball or one of her songbird’s choir concerts, S.E. Hall can be found… in her garage. Oh, and she also enjoys reading, writing, gabbing on the phone and online shopping… in her garage.

  You can stay connected with S.E. Hall in several ways:

  BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/s-e-hall

  Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/7E-nP

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/S.E.HallAuthorEmerge

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/Sehallauthor

  Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/S.E.-Hall/e/B00D0AB9TI/

  Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7087549.S_E_Hall

  Instagram: https://instagram.com/Sehall_author/

  Books by S.E. Hall (all books can be found on Amazon; those with a * indicate additional availability in audio format)

  Standalone

  *Unstable: books2read.com/u/mdN9dd

  Full Circle Series

  Embody: books2read.com/u/bxqkQe

  Elusive:http://a.co/fdNpLO9

  Evolve Series

  *Emerge
: books2read.com/u/bOaqyo

  *Embrace: books2read.com/u/m0x9lM

  *Entangled: books2read.com/u/mvjVW2

  *Entice: books2read.com/u/ml5kAW

  Sawyer Beckett's Baby Mama Drama Guide For Dummies: books2read.com/u/478qQg

  *Endure: books2read.com/u/3J0qpX

  Sawyer Beckett's Guide for Tools Looking to Date My Daughter: books2read.com/u/4jwOP5

  Entwined: books2read.com/u/boYk8a

  A Crew Christmas: books2read.com/u/3Ro76x

  Finally Found Novels

  *Pretty Instinct: books2read.com/u/4jw7Xk

  Pretty Remedy: books2read.com/u/mgr6pX

  Co-written with Hilary Storm

  Quarterback Sack: books2read.com/u/3nOk25

  Pick Your Poison: books2read.com/u/bzakZn

  Co-written with Angela Graham

  Stirred Up: books2read.com/u/mgrejR

  Packaged: books2read.com/u/bPJdyz

  Handled: books2read.com/u/4EDvlg

  Matched: books2read.com/u/m2o1Y7

  One Naughty Night: books2read.com/u/4DoqKk

  Filthy Foreign Exchange: books2read.com/u/bpWkwk

  Filthy Foreign Exchange 2: books2read.com/u/b5MKXR

  Co-written with Ashley Suzanne

  Accidentally On Purpose: books2read.com/u/3L9qy5

  Co-written with Erin Noelle

  Conspire: books2read.com/u/4Awlpd

  First of Many

  By Ashley Suzanne

  Prologue

  The First Step

  Present

  Unlike other hospital offices, Dr. Braum’s office isn’t cold or uninviting. It’s the exact opposite. Pictures of his large, beautiful family surround the small area—a space with just enough room for a large oak desk, floor to ceiling bookshelves loaded with medical text and certificates of achievement, and even a sitting area near the windows. Probably would look larger with smaller scale furniture, but it’s the perfect combination of overdone and just right. It feels… safe. Before finally finding Dr. Braum, we’d searched high and low, looking for the person who could help us with our needs. It took a while—seven specialists to be exact—and it took another three months to get an appointment, but we’re here. He’ll be able to help. Amidst dozens of other physicians, Dr. Braum is our only shot. Doesn’t hurt that in his reviews, he’s listed as Dr. Bruce J. Braum, MP (Miracle Performer).