by Lexi Ryan
“I don’t know how to be head over heels for anyone but Will,” she whispers. “And guys don’t love me like that. You’re the only one who ever did, and now you hate me.”
“You’ve pissed me off enough times, but I don’t hate you. I couldn’t.”
She tilts her face to mine and her gaze locks on to my lips.
Once upon a time, these were my favorite moments with Meredith—the moments when she dropped her defenses and let me in. And if I hadn’t changed, I would drop my mouth to hers and kiss her softly. She’d turn it wild before I’d gotten my fill of her taste, and we’d end up naked and sweaty on the couch.
But I’m not that guy anymore, so I kiss her cheek before stepping back.
“Still holding out for Hanna?” she asks, but there’s no sign of the bitterness that usually infects her voice on the topic of my once-fiancée.
“That ship’s sailed, unfortunately.”
“Maybe not. She’s not in any rush to commit to the rocker, so there may be a chance for you two.”
I collapse on the couch and lean against the headrest so I’m looking at the ceiling. “I don’t think so. I think some relationships start out wildly unbalanced and they’re doomed to try to survive on this rickety teeter-totter. That’s the way it was for Hanna and me. I was always trying to make up for the beginning of our relationship—for not wanting her at the beginning, for dating her for the wrong reasons and taking so long to realize how great she was. We were off-balance from the start, and I spent every day of our relationship trying to catch my balance so I wouldn’t lose her.”
Meredith sinks onto the couch beside me and rests her head on my shoulder. “You mean by doing things like buying her a bakery you really couldn’t afford?”
“Yeah. Like that.” My stomach aches to admit this. “I think I knew I was losing her even before you shared those texts with her. She always held back part of herself, and she was so good and sweet I was greedy for her to let me in, even in those moments when things were good. Then you sent her those texts, and it’s been wildly teetering ever since.”
She stiffens beside me. “Will you ever be able to forgive me for that?”
“It was a really bitchy thing to do. It hurt Hanna and it hurt me.” I wrap my arm around her shoulders. “And I think it hurt you too.”
“I know my depression isn’t an excuse, but I really wasn’t seeing clearly. I’d like to think I wouldn’t have done anything that terrible if I’d been in my right mind.”
“You’re going to spend the rest of your life alone if you keep acting like that,” I say softly. Not to be an ass, but she needs to know. “Every bitter, angry thing you do and say alienates you a little more.”
“And makes me a little more like my father.” The words are so quiet I probably wouldn’t have made them out if I weren’t thinking the same thing.
“Go to Paris. Start fresh. Be the Meredith I knew. The one who’d sneak into bed with me and whisper about her dreams for the future.”
“I don’t know what happened to her.”
“So find her. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet the love of your life in the process.”
She sits up, tilts her head, and studies me. “And what about you?”
I shrug. “I’ve got Claire. Right now, she’s the love of my life.”
She throws her hand over her mouth and her eyes fill with tears. “I’m so glad she has you,” she manages, tears rolling onto her cheeks, “since her mom is so screwed up.”
She pushes off the couch and grabs her purse off the kitchen table. I follow her to the door, but when I open it, she faces me again. “I am so sorry for being the reason things didn’t work out with Hanna. So sorry. If I could go back…”
I take her hand and squeeze her fingers. “If we hadn’t already been off-balance, anything you did or said wouldn’t have mattered. It took seeing her with Nate to understand that. They’re steady. Despite…everything. When the world throws them for a loop, they’re fine as soon as they get their feet on the ground.”
She nods and looks to the door of Claire’s bedroom. “Tell her every day how much I love her. Tell her I’m coming back for her. I don’t want her to feel…” She presses her fingers to her lips. “Stupid antidepressant clearly isn’t working,” she says, half smiling as more tears roll down her cheeks.
“I think they’re working just fine. And you don’t need to worry. I’ll tell her. Every day.”
“THIS IS the cutest nursery ever,” Liz says. She’s adorable with her blond curls pulled into a high ponytail, smudges of red paint on her cheek.
I can’t disagree. I love everything about the nursery. The walls are a pale yellow with a bold, red accent wall. We used primary colors and found gender-neutral bed sets with colorful zoo animals.
“You think it’ll be two girls or two boys or a boy and a girl?”
I shrug.
“I know, I know! We just want them to be healthy, but part of me is hoping it’ll be two little girls.” She slings her arm over my shoulder and eyes my belly. “Or not so little,” she teases. “I’m surprised I got to come over tonight, honestly. Nate hasn’t taken his hands off you since the doctor told him it was safe to have sex.”
I bite back a grin then sigh. Having Nate in my house the last four months has been amazing. Vivian and Drake bought a house in a ritzy little area outside of Indianapolis, not a bad drive from New Hope, and Collin stays with us during the week and stays with them on the weekends.
Everything was going so well that they took me off complete bed rest by thirty weeks, but only last week, when I hit the thirty-seven-week mark, were we released to have sex again. If I was worried about my enormous belly standing between me and Nate being intimate, I needn’t have. He’s plenty creative when it counts.
The thought sends a buzz of anticipation through me. I shift uncomfortably and move away from Liz to sit in the glider rocker Nate bought for the nursery. So many thoughtful touches for a man who never wanted more children. Or who told himself that he didn’t want any more children. My heart pinches a bit at the thought. Nate’s an amazing father, and I’ve never seen a man so excited about his unborn children.
“I need to—” I stop, eyes wide as I try to figure out what’s happening. “Liz?”
“What, sweetie?”
“Either I’m peeing myself and I can’t stop or my water just broke.” A steady trickle of warmth runs down my leg.
She squeals and then claps. “Hospital. Come on. Let’s go.”
“We have plenty of time,” I assure her. “Let’s go across the street and get Nate.”
“Are you sure? Should you be walking? Shouldn’t I call your doctor?” She grabs her phone from her pocket. “I’ll call Nate and then the doctor and then—”
“Liz.” I put my hand on her arm. “It’s going to be okay.”
Biting her bottom lip, she wraps her arms around my enormous stomach and sighs. “I get to meet you two soon! You’ll know me right away. I’m the cool one.”
We grab my overnight bag and diaper bag and are halfway to the door when Nate and Asher walk in. Nate takes one look at me and the bag slung over Lizzy’s shoulder and says, “Yeah?”
I nod, and before I can say anything, he pulls me into his arms, slides his hands into my hair, and kisses me.
“Knock it off!” Liz says. “You can suck face later. Now it’s time to have some babies!”
Three Weeks Later
“HEY, CRANE!” Asher calls, waving me over. “Is it done?”
I find a seat in the chair next to his and hand him the finished version of the song we’ve been hammering away at since August. Hanna’s song.
“What about that?” I ask, pointing to a new line in the chorus.
“Yeah.” He nods as he studies it. Then he grins. “Yeah, that could work.”
I’ve written a lot of songs in my life and co-written even more, but none of them fought me as much as this one. Or maybe I’m the one who fought it. I wanted it to be
about how sometimes loving someone means letting them go, and it didn’t work. Months later, it’s turned into a piece about how love is worth all the pain and heartbreak that comes before and after.
I knew, if I touched you, it’d be more than a kiss.
I need you. I’ll feed you. I’ll be your dying bliss.
Staring at the chorus, I sense her. I lift my head, and Hanna’s smiling at me, my daughter in her arms. Next to her, Liz cradles my other daughter, gazing into her little face like a woman lost in love.
My daughters, Sophia and Josephine, are three weeks old today, and the family is over to welcome them home and celebrate their healthy births. I’m exhausted and sleep deprived and generally the luckiest bastard in the world.
“Are you two going to sing for us or not?” Maggie asks.
Asher winks at her. “Sure. We’ve even got something new.” He strums the first chords of the song, and Hanna’s eyes go wide. She’s heard me working on it and begged me to sing it for her, but I told her she had to wait until it was done. I guess it’s showtime.
You met me in the darkness and invited me to see
The path into the daylight wasn’t what I thought it’d be.
I wanted to slay dragons for you but didn’t understand
The dragons needing slaying were the ones inside my head.
I knew, if I touched you, it’d be more than a kiss.
I need you. I’ll feed you. I’ll be your dying bliss.
I’ll be your superhero. I’d do it all for this.
The words aren’t just perfect for the song. They’re true. And when I look up from my guitar, I know she understands that every word is for her. She turns to Krystal and hands her the baby. Then she comes across the room and takes my hand.
“Are you ready to make good on your promise, angel?” I ask softly.
“What promise is that?”
I produce a ring from my pocket. It’s an emerald-cut diamond framed by our daughters’ birthstone. “Marry me. Be my wife and my family. Wear my ring.”
She grins, and happy tears spill down her cheeks. “I was starting to wonder when you’d ask me.”
Thank you for reading the final book in the Here and Now series. Curious about Lizzy and Sam? Their story is next and begins with Something Reckless, releasing in December 2014, and will conclude with Something Real, coming in 2015. If you’d like to receive an email when it and my other new titles are available, please sign up for my newsletter.
Justin Timberlake—Drink You Away
Rihanna—Stay
Muse—Madness
Ingrid Michaelson feat. A Great Big World—Over You
A Great Big World—Already Home
Sam Smith—Stay with Me
Pink, Nate Reuss—Just Give Me a Reason
Ani DiFranco—Falling Is Like This
Norah Jones—Come Away With Me
Train—Marry Me
Oh Honey—Be Okay
What Lexi’s Reading
I love reading almost as I love writing. Here are a couple books I’m looking forward to: Sugar on the Edge by Sawyer Bennett and The Request Trilogy by Marquita Valentine. Find the blurbs and a brief excerpt of each below.
Sugar on the Edge by Sawyer Bennett
About the Book:
He’s utterly alone…
Tortured and existing in a dark spiral of despair, bestselling British author, Gavin Cooke, has come to the Outer Banks of North Carolina to escape the seedy lifestyle he had been living in London and in a desperate attempt to regain his writing focus. He’s twisted, bitter and angry at the world. He’s a loner… needing not a single thing other than his Scotch and a laptop upon which he can bang out his next erotic, dark thriller.
She’s running in place and getting nowhere…
Savannah Shepherd’s life is falling apart. Her dream of being a wildlife photographer seems a distant memory and she’s barely able to make ends meet. Driving herself forward with no clear goals apparent, she’s about ready to pack up her bags and head home with her tail between her legs.
Two unlikely lovers…
He’s raw, forceful and a dirty talker. She’s a flowers and romance type of girl. Yet within each other, they find a mutual craving that can only be satisfied by giving in to their desires for one another.
Lust turns into something more… something they were not looking for but tentatively accept. Will it be enough to push them past the obstacles of Gavin’s bitter past?
Excerpt:
Savannah lets out a soft sigh from the couch, and I watch her intently. The hand across her stomach moves up, and she stretches both of them over her head, arching her back off the couch in a sleepy stretch. It pulls her T-shirt up higher, exposing more of her stomach and thrusting her breasts out.
The two glasses of scotch I’ve had haven’t mellowed me enough that my dick doesn’t take notice of the unintentional, but sexy move. It thumps against the zipper of my jeans with interest.
I wonder if I could seduce her… right now? I wonder if I gave into this attraction… this lust that’s brewing for her, could the pounding of my cock between her legs drive her right out of my thoughts for good? Maybe that’s what I need… just to fuck her, with raw, primal energy… enough to scare her away for good. Maybe then, I could quit thinking about her. She’d run away crying, her dignity shredded, and I could hire a new cleaning service and be done with her.
Savannah takes a deep breath, lets it out, and then goes still. I can’t see if her eyes are open in the shadows where she lies, but by the measured movement of her chest, I think she’s gone back down under.
Setting my empty tumbler on the table beside me, I stand up and walk over to the couch. I stare down at her, her face so serene and peaceful. I wonder if she’s dreaming.
Without a second thought, I sit down on the edge of the couch, in a small area available to me by her left hip. Taking my finger, I stroke it over the skin of her stomach and say, “Sweet… it’s time to wake up?”
She gives a soft moan in her sleep and arches her back off the cushions again.
And fuck, that’s sexy.
And yeah, I definitely want to fuck her.
“Savannah,” I call out to her softly and bring my hand up to her face, grazing my fingers over her temple. “You need to wake up.”
Her eyes flutter open, immediately making contact with mine, and I let my hand drop away.
“She’s alive,” I murmur as she stares at me with dark eyes.
“What time is it?” she rasps out, turning her head to the left to look out the back glass door.
“Just after nine PM,” I tell her. “You slept like a rock. I could have had my way with you, and you would have never known.”
“Oh, yeah?” she asks skeptically, and with sleep still heavy in her voice. “Like what?”
Oh, little girl, the things I could have done to you.
I go for the shock factor to see what she does. Reaching my left arm behind me, I place my fingers on her calf. Her skin is warm and silky, and her breath hitches at the slight touch. “I could have skimmed my fingers up your leg, right past your knee… up your thigh,” I tell her, moving my fingers up that same path I’m describing. When I get to the edge of her shorts, I halt my progress. “I could have inched my way right under these short little shorts… found the edge of your damp panties just to prove that you were having a sexy little dream while you were sleeping.”
A tiny moan comes out of her mouth, and her eyes glitter back at me from the ambient light of the lamp reflecting in them. “You didn’t do that,” she says without any type of conviction at all… and is that a bit of longing I hear?
I finger the edge of her shorts. “I’ve done all kinds of dark and dirty things that your limited imagination could never fully appreciate. It would have been nothing for me to do that to you.”
“Maybe so,” she breathes out in a rush, “but you wouldn’t have done that without my consent.”
“Hmmm,” I say thou
ghtfully, releasing the denim material and placing my fingers on her hot skin, feeling her muscles jump underneath my touch. “I’m wondering… would you give me your consent right now? Would you let me tunnel my fingers inside just a bit, let me see if your panties are damp because what I’m saying to you now is turning you on?”
The Request Trilogy by Marquita Valentine, Book One
About the Book
*** Roman Smith ~ Shopkeeper by day. Assassin by night. ***
The undercover Russian contract killer has never turned down an assignment that rids the world of scum… until his latest job targets an innocent man.
Refusing is not an option.
Everly Andrews, the sexy southern belle who saved him from dying and is completely unaware of his double life, has been marked as next on the kill list should he fail. There’s nothing Roman won’t do to keep Everly safe, even if it means losing her in the process.
Excerpt:
Everly rewards me with a tremulous smile. I allow my thumb to pass over a knuckle, and her breath hitches. She leans forward slightly, mahogany waves falling. Our eyes meet, and I’m helpless in this moment. The last time she was this close to me, I’d been shot.
Now, I’m perfectly healthy and perfectly willing to take her to my bed. Because of her, I haven’t been with anyone in months. Months. The thought of using another as a replacement for her leaves my mouth as dry as ashes in a dead hearth.
“Your friend,” she says, her lips inches from mine. Plump and pink.
Lickable. I want to devour her, starting at that mouth.
“He’s browsing.”
She covers my hand with hers, but not to pull it away. Instead, she squeezes, and my dick gets hard. I close my eyes. This is no way to react to her fear, but my body knows who’s touching it.