Touched by You
Page 23
Carter ran the back of his hand over her cheek. “I love you, beautiful.”
She smiled. “I love you.”
“I want you.”
She nuzzled his nose with hers. “I know.”
He tickled her sides, and she broke into a fit of laughter. “I’m being serious.”
Staring into those intense eyes, she nodded. “I know. I want you, too.”
“Forever.”
Brooklyn froze when he pulled out a small box from the couch cushion. “Oh my God. Carter?”
Even though she’d expected it, she still wasn’t prepared for the gamut of emotions she felt when he opened the ring box, revealing the clearest princess-cut solitaire she’d ever seen. She met his gaze, her eyes welling with tears. “Carter,” she breathed.
“Marry me,” he said simply.
Her heart opened up as his words sank in. It was an ordinary proposal. No grand gestures, no audience. It was them. Simple, but extraordinary.
“Yes,” she whispered against his lips, before kissing him. “I’ll marry you. Just tell me when and where.”
* * *
The where was at the little glass chapel at the edge of town. The when was two weeks from the proposal. They’d decided there was no need to wait. They hadn’t done a “long” anything, so it didn’t make sense for them to prolong the wedding.
There were less than twenty people in attendance. Brooklyn stood in the small foyer of the chapel, Nicole behind her . . . crying like a damn baby. She shot her friend a look. “You can get it together now, Nic. You’re my maid of freakin’ honor. No crying.”
Nicole laughed through her tears. “I can’t help it. You look so beautiful.”
“You do,” Aisha said from her stance on her left side. Her future sister-in-law looked like she was on the verge of tears, too.
“Come on,” Brooklyn said, her chin trembling. “You can’t do this to me. If you two insist on crying, I’m going to have to fire you as my bridesmaids.”
The three ladies laughed.
“I’m so proud of you,” Nic said. “You didn’t let your father or anyone else tell you how to live your life. That’s something, knowing your family.”
Brooklyn thought about her father. She’d visited him after Carter proposed, and told him the news. Even though he didn’t respond, she knew that he’d heard her. It had taken a lot for her to forgive her father, but she had. How could she not? It made no sense to hold a grudge against someone who could very well never wake up again. It was healthier for her to let it go. And that she had. She had too much going for her to let it ruin her life.
They’d dressed at her home because there was no bathroom in the small chapel. The glass chapel had been a tourist spot in Wellspring, but it wasn’t meant for weddings. Brooklyn had always loved it, so Carter made it happen.
Aisha had brought a tall mirror to lean against the wall so she could see herself before she walked down the aisle. Glancing at her reflection in the mirror, she smiled. It wasn’t a big ballroom gown like her mother had worn, and it wasn’t a mermaid dress like everyone had expected her to wear. It was a simple, flowing, A-line gown with a sweetheart neckline, designed by up-and-coming designer Allina Smith, out of Belleville, Michigan. And it was perfect.
The music started, and the doors opened. Aisha walked down the aisle first, dabbing at her eyes the whole way. Nicole followed. And then it was her turn. She stepped into the aisle and smiled when she met Carter’s gaze.
Unable to stop herself, she broke into a run down the aisle. He scooped her up in his arms and swung her around, kissing her tenderly. The entire church applauded. But all Brooklyn could hear was their hearts beating, in sync with each other, as they’d always done.
Carter buried his face in her neck, kissing her pulse point before setting her down gently. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against her ear. “You’re so mine.”
Brooklyn laughed, not even mortified that tears had drifted down her cheeks. Nicole could always fix her makeup later.
The ceremony was quick and straight to the point. The minister, Pastor Locke, pronounced them man and wife before he instructed Carter to “salute his bride.”
Carter pulled her close to him and dipped his head down, brushing his lips over hers in the faintest of caresses. It left her aching for more, which was exactly why he’d done it that way.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you more.” She beamed up at him.
They hurried out of the chapel and into the waiting car.
After the small dinner reception at the Bee’s Knees, they returned to their home. She gasped when she opened the door to the flicker of candlelight all over the house.
“Carter, you sneak. Who’d you get to do this?”
“Martin. You didn’t notice him and Ryleigh sneaking out of the diner?”
She shook her head and walked over to the pool table where there was a bottle of wine and two beers sitting on top. She pulled the wine bottle out, eyeing the label. “Nice. But I think I’ll have a beer.”
He opened two beers, and they toasted one another. They’d decided against a honeymoon. There was too much going on with both of their businesses and other things. But they’d agreed to take a trip during the holidays, when things hopefully died down.
Brooklyn noticed her cue stick was sitting on the pool table, next to his. “You definitely know how to make me swoon.”
She picked up her stick. “A game?”
He grinned, leaned down and kissed her. “Forever.”
Acknowledgments
Writing Touched by You was quite the journey. It took me from Southeast Michigan, where I was born and raised, to the western side of my beautiful state. The fictional town of Wellspring came to life through the eyes of Brooklyn, a longtime resident, and Carter, a newcomer. While writing, I envisioned the historic buildings, the ice-cream store, Brook’s Pub, and the Bee’s Knees, as if I were actually walking into the town. I hope you enjoyed meeting the good townspeople of Wellspring as much as I enjoyed bringing them to life. I appreciate your love and support.
First and foremost, all thanks and praise to God. He has never failed me yet, and it is because of His Grace and Mercy that all of this is possible.
To my husband, Jason, you are the love of my life. I am forever touched by you. I love you.
To my children, Asante, Kaia, and Masai: you inspire me to dream big, to hope for more. You’re brilliant, amazing, and beautiful. Never let anyone tell you otherwise.
To my father, Leon, thank you for being someone that I can turn to. Thanks for never turning your back on me. I’m so blessed to have you.
To my brother, Lee, it is because of our close relationship that I can write these awesome brother-and-sister relationships. You mean so much to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.
To my Nanay and Tatay, thank you for loving me and accepting me without question. I love you both very much.
To my sister LaDonna, I can’t thank you enough for being that sounding board, that person that I can talk to about anything. You love me without condition. And that means the world to me. Love you BIG!
To my sister Kim, thanks for loving me. Thanks for making me laugh and telling me to take care of myself. I love you!
To my lit sisters, and Once Upon a Bridesmaid crew, Sheryl Lister, Sherelle Green, and Angela Seals: This year has been hard for me, but I’m thankful that we’ve forged a bond that I only see growing stronger as we continue this journey. Love y’all! You rock!
To my Book Euphoria ladies, you are #BlackGirl Passion. And we are #JustThatDope. Thanks for bringing me into the fold. I can’t wait to see what’s next on the horizon.
To my #ElleWright Betas (Kimberley, Danielle, Shizzle, Nicole, Keshia, Andrea, Erica, Dwana, Stacey, Latrease, Kim, LaDonna, and Crystal), thanks for reading, thanks for listening, thanks for talking to me about these books. Love you all!
I can’t forget about several people who are so special to m
e. These people have supported #TeamElle from day one. To my writerly boo, Christine Hughes, you’re so awesome! You are my family and I’m so glad to have you in my life. A big thank-you to Sheree for being my sounding board when I was creating Wellspring and Brooklyn. It is because of that long, recorded conversation that this book is being published. A special thank-you to Crystal for being my friend, my family. I never have to guess where you stand, and that means more to me than you’ll ever know. Love ya! To Tanishia Pearson-Jones, when I think of faith, I see my mother and you. You’ve shown me what it means to truly trust God. Thanks, friend. To Anita Davis, it has been a pleasure getting to know you. I’m blessed to call you my friend. To all of my friends and family, I love you all. I can’t name everyone, but I would be remiss if I didn’t thank you all for encouraging me. The year 2017 was rough. So rough. But I’m grateful for you all.
To my agent, Sara Camilli, thank you for talking me off the ledge so many times. LOL. I appreciate you.
To my editor, Selena James, thank you for challenging me, for pushing me to be better, to look deeper. I’ve already learned so much from you. Thanks for taking a chance on me.
I want to give a shout-out to the City Chicks and Southern Belles, Brenda Jackson, Beverly Jenkins, Lutishia Lovely, Renee Daniel Flagler, Iris Bolling, Tiffany L. Warren, Sherelle Greene, Sheryl Lister, Yahrah St. John. Our #RT17 event rocked the house! Thank you for everything!
I also want to thank to Priscilla C. Johnson and Cilla’s Maniacs, A. C. Arthur, Brenda Kidd-Woodbury (BJBC), MidnightAce Scotty, King Brooklyns (Black Page Turners), Sharon Blount and BRAB (Building Relationships Around Books), LaShaunda Hoffman (SORMAG), Orsayor Simmons (Book Referees), Tiffany Tyler (Reading in Black and White), Naleighna Kai (Naleighna Kai’s Literary Café and Cavalcade of Authors), Delaney Diamond (RNIC), Wayne Jordan (RIC), Radiah Hubert (Urban Book Reviews), and the EyeCU Reading and Social Network for supporting me. I truly appreciate you all.
I also want to thank my readers. Thanks for your feedback, thanks for your encouragement, thanks for reading. Without you all, this wouldn’t be possible.
I hope you enjoyed Brooklyn and Carter!
Thank you!
Love,
Elle
Parker Wells, Jr., meets his match in
ENTICED BY YOU
Enjoy the following excerpt . . .
Chapter 1
For the last several hours, Parker Wells Jr. had been asking himself the same question over and over again. What the hell was his father smoking when he met, then married Patricia Lewis Wells?
Sighing heavily, he watched the movers cart box after box from his father’s mansion. It seemed Patricia had made out quite well for herself considering she’d been a “reformed” stripper when she became wife number five to Parker Wells Sr. With her bright blond weave, long fake nails and lashes, and her enhanced face and breasts, he often wondered how she really looked under all of that . . . fakeness.
Gesturing to one of the movers, he grabbed the huge painting his father had commissioned of his latest wife. At least, she got to keep it. The other four wives, including his own mother, hadn’t faired so well. The paintings ended up in the incinerator the moment the divorce was final. Or in his mother’s case, the death certificate was signed.
Parker wondered if that was the moment he realized he didn’t care for his father. Hell, he borderline hated him for most of his thirty-one years on this Earth. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember any redeeming qualities.
Senior, as they were instructed to call their father, had made it a point to not engage with his sons. His younger sister Brooklyn had a different experience as a little girl, when their mother was alive. She remembered their dad as kind and protective back then. Things didn’t change for Brooklyn and Senior until Mama died.
Parker, on the other hand, never remembered feeling secure in his home, or even in his own skin. Everything about him had been picked apart since he could form a coherent sentence. His first memories of his father were painful ones, discipline for even the smallest infraction. His pants weren’t ironed right, his hair was too long, he didn’t enunciate his words properly, he wasn’t smart enough, he wasn’t fast enough on the football field. Never mind, he’d never received less than an “A” on anything, had made the All-State team and won MVP for every year he played football. After awhile, he’d stopped even bringing home trophies or awards because they just didn’t matter. And things had steadily gotten worse as he grew into adulthood.
After his mother died, he’d become a shield to his younger siblings, taken their punishments so they wouldn’t have to be subjected to their father’s wrath. Although, neither one of them had escaped unscathed. Most recently, his father had waged a war against Brooklyn for daring to say no to the arranged marriage Senior had set up.
The last time his father had hit him was the one time he’d ended up in jail. Parker could still remember the fury that tightened his bones, turned his blood hot, yet cold, at the same time. He’d defended himself that day, and his father had never stepped to him again.
Of course, the punishment for that transgression had been banishment from the house and the family company, Wellspring Water Corporation. At the time, Parker didn’t care. He’d considered it a blessing that he wouldn’t have to be around Senior and his cronies.
Everything changed once he’d graduated from law school. He’d made it his mission to work his way back into his father’s good graces, and every minute he’d kissed ass, gone against his heart, had chipped away at his soul.
But Parker had a plan. Inevitably, his father wouldn’t be around much longer. And he would be able to run the company the way he saw fit. He would be able to do right by his grandfather’s vision for Wellspring Water. So, he’d bided his time, played the game, and covered his ass at all times. Now, it was his turn.
Parker Wells Sr. had suffered a massive heart attack several months earlier and was now comatose. The doctors weren’t hopeful, but Senior was holding on for some reason. Maybe it was the old man’s way of saying “fuck you” to all of them. As long as he was alive, the company would be his, the legacy would be one of darkness and corruption, not light and responsibility like Parker envisioned.
As the heir to the family company, Parker was next in line to take over as Chief Executive Officer when Senior finally passed away. Recently, the board had voted him in as the interim CEO while his father was incapacitated. But there was more, so much more to the story.
Apparently, his father hadn’t been content to cheat unsuspecting workers, steal land, and marry strippers. He’d actually committed a serious crime, forging their mother’s will. Doing so, allowed him to maintain control of a company that technically belonged to Parker and Brooklyn.
The scandal had rocked their small town of Wellspring, and he and his sister were currently working with a team of attorney’s to fix the mess Senior had made of all of their lives.
A loud thump sounded from the sitting room in the front of the house. Next, he’d heard the crash of glass against the wall. Sighing, he rushed over to the room, where his sister had been arguing with Patricia for the last half an hour—about any and everything he could think of from the priceless vase Patricia felt was owed to her to the Honey Nut Cheerios she wanted to take from the kitchen.
Brooklyn. Parker sighed when he thought of his little sis. She was petite but she packed a punch. And she wasn’t letting Patricia leave the house with anything that wasn’t specified in the agreement they’d made her sign last week, no matter how petty and how miniscule the item was.
Pushing open the door, he scanned the room. Patricia was standing there, wig crooked and chest heaving. Brooklyn, on the other hand, was calm. There wasn’t a hair out of place on his sister’s head. Her clothes were pristine, liked she’d just put them on. There was glass around Brooklyn’s high heeled pumps.
“What the hell is going on in here?” he asked his sister.
Brooklyn stared at him, amusement cr
ackling in her brown eyes. “Patricia won’t go quietly into the night like she agreed. She insists on breaking up all of Senior’s shit. And what she fails to realize is I don’t give a damn what she breaks. There is no way in hell she’s going to walk out of here with anything not outlined in this agreement.” His sister held up the divorce decree.
It had been their attorney’s idea to offer a settlement to Patricia to divorce their father. Patricia had been happy to accept the offer, because they’d offered her a sum over and above what had been agreed upon in the Prenuptial Agreement and what would be bequeathed to her in the event of Senior’s death. In fact, Patricia had been so eager to accept the terms of the agreement, Parker wondered if she’d had a boyfriend on the side somewhere.
The proceedings had gone well. There wasn’t a lot of arguing, no real disputes over the terms. Ultimately, they’d come to an agreement. Which is why he was perplexed she was having so much trouble now that it was time to move out of Senior’s house.
“Patricia, what is the problem?” he asked, arms out at his sides. “You knew this day was coming. You agreed to the terms.”
Patricia glared at Brooklyn. “I can’t stand her. I never could.”
Brooklyn barked out a laugh. “Ask me if I care.”
Parker cut Brooklyn a look that he hoped told her to shut up so they could get the woman out of the house. Brooklyn got the message because she stepped away, gingerly out of the glass and took a seat on one of the chairs.
Approaching Patricia, Parker said, “Is there anything I can do to make this transition better for you?” Parker ignored the muttered curse from his sister from her side of the room. “What’s going on with you?”
A still seething Patricia, wouldn’t look at Parker. She was still throwing Brooklyn death glares. “I won’t talk as long as she’s in the room.”