He stood up and wrapped an arm around my waist, drawing me against his body. “I’m serious, Ruby. I want to marry you. And I want to build a house with you on this land.”
“Th-this land?”
“Look around, babe. This is ours. Our property. Our home.”
I understood what he said, but I couldn’t make any of it make sense. “Here?”
Concern brought his eyebrows together over his nose. “Is that okay?”
“You bought me land? You bought me this land?”
He kissed the top of my forehead. “I bought us this land. I wanted you to be able to stay close to your mom. And I also wanted enough land that Max could run wild on. I wanted to give us the chance to build our lives together.”
He’d bought us property to build on? Oh my god! I was going to move out of the trailer. Into my own home—that I was going to build with my husband. The reality of those words settled around me like the sweetest truth.
How could I say no to him? How could I ever deny him anything?
He was going to build me a house. And granted it was still on the wrong side of the tracks, but it was mine. It was ours. And I would happily live out the rest of my life on the wrong side of town, if it meant I got to do it with Levi.
It was time for a new bucket list.
Marry Levi.
Have his baby.
Build a house together, a real home to raise our children in.
Make out with Levi Cole for the rest of our lives.
Live happily ever after.
“You bought me land, Levi,” I gasped, throwing my arms around his neck, forgetting about the ring entirely.
He laughed against my neck, but promised, “It’s only yours if you answer yes to the first question.”
I blinked up at him. “What was the first question?”
Making a frustrated sound in the back of his throat he bit out playfully, “Will you marry me?”
I smiled at him while Max hollered and cheered for us. “Oh, I thought you already knew that answer.” Slipping my finger through the ring he held out for me, I marveled at how it shined and shimmered in the late afternoon sun. “Obviously, I’ll marry you, Levi. This ring has to be worth a fortune.”
He shut my smart mouth with a kiss that quickly turned into the kind of lust that got me pregnant a second time. Max’s cheers turned to boos as he complained how gross we were being.
We pulled back, trying not to scar our child, but finding it hard not to touch each other all the time.
Our. Our child. Levi was the fun uncle, but he was even better at being the great dad. And the way he interacted with Max only made me fall in love with him more and more.
We weren’t perfect. And we were certainly unconventional. We basically gave Clark City their daily dose of juicy gossip. But we loved each other and our little family.
And as we sat down where Levi had set out a lovely picnic and talked about what kind of house we were going to build and how we wanted it to look and why we couldn’t build it in the shape of the Death Star, I knew I would never have to worry about Max’s home situation again. Because Levi and I loved each other more than I knew was possible and we were always going to fight to keep loving and falling in love with each other.
He was the boy I tried to run from. But he would forever be the man I ran to.
And he was the greatest thing that ever happened to me.
Well, right after Max.
Afterword
Thank you for reading Trailer Park Heart! This was such a fun and heartwarming book to write. I fell in love so hard with Levi and Ruby and I sincerely hope you did too. If you’ve read some of my other books, you know I love a stubborn, headstrong woman. But even more, I adore a secretly sweet, swoony hero that finds himself frustratingly head over heels for our heroine. Can I get an amen? I mean, seriously… Levi Cole? All the heart eyes.
This has been one of my favorite projects to work on. So, thank you for taking the time to read and enjoy this story. I can’t tell you how much that means to me. And how much you mean to me. Thank you for reading and sharing with your friends, thank you for leaving reviews and comments and sending me messages. I just think you’re amazing!
Keep reading for a peek at my next release, The Something About Her, the last book in The Opposites Attract Series, coming February 26th, 2019!
Coming soon!!!
The Something about Her coming February, 2019!
I quit life. Or at least my new job.
My fancy head chef position at one of the most acclaimed restaurants in the city is not turning out like I’d hoped. I’m a mess. Totally out of my element and underqualified, I’ve been thrown into a fiery kitchen and I’m not sure I can handle the heat.
But I owe my brother. And since it’s his restaurant and he’s my favorite person in the world, I can’t walk away.
Even though I’d love to do just that. If we’re being really honest though, it’s more than just my kitchen. It’s the bad date I went on last week. And my building superintendent that won’t fix my heater. It’s the creepy guy from my gym. But mostly, it’s my friend’s brother who keeps showing up in all the worst places.
I’ve never claimed to have it together, but I certainly don’t need a man to rescue me every time I get my heel stuck in a sewer grate. Except that’s what keeps happening.
Vann Delane is pushy and stuck up and thinks he knows everything there is to know about everything. And for whatever reason, he keeps saving me.
Not that he’s happy about it. He’s made it clear what he thinks about my money and dream job and the designer shoes he saved last weekend. He’s not impressed with me or my penchant for disaster.
I’ve decided to stay away from him. I’ve got too many other fires to put out to worry about the something between us that doesn’t have a name.
So he can give his knight in shining armor kindness to someone else. He can save those intense glances and butterfly-inducing smiles for the nice girl he’s looking for. And he can deny it all he wants, but I know he likes me.
He says I drive him crazy. But I know there’s something about me that he can’t deny.
Acknowledgments
There are a ridiculous amount of people to thank at the end of this book. When you’re a person like me, AKA a hot mess to the extreme, you tend to need a lot of help. Thankfully, I’m surrounded by a community that is willing to swoop in and rescue me on a daily basis. So, to God, first of all. This book might be the most miraculous of all. Thank You for carrying me through, for upholding me with Your righteous right hand. And then to Zach and the kids, my mom, my dear friends that put up with my panic and breakdowns, to Amy Donnelly my fantastic editor and Lenore, my brilliant beta. To Caedus Design Co and the gorgeous cover. But especially to the readers and bloggers who take so much time to read my work and fall in love with my characters. I am so blessed to be an author when I have you all in my life.
About the Author
Rachel Higginson was born and raised in Nebraska, but spent her college years traveling the world. She fell in love with Eastern Europe, Paris, Indian Food and the beautiful beaches of Sri Lanka, but came back home to marry her high school sweetheart. Now she spends her days raising their growing family. She is obsessed with reruns of The Office and Cherry Coke.
Rachel’s next release, The Something About Her, the final book in The Opposites Attract Series, is coming February 26th, 2019!
Other Books Out Now by Rachel Higginson:
Love and Decay, Season One
Volume One
Volume Two
Love and Decay, Season Two
Volume Three
Volume Four
Volume Five
Love and Decay, Season Three
Volume Six
Volume Seven
Volume Eight
Love and Decay: Revolution, Season One
Volume One
Volume Two
The Star-Crossed Series
Reckl
ess Magic (The Star-Crossed Series, Book 1)
Hopeless Magic (The Star-Crossed Series, Book 2)
Fearless Magic (The Star-Crossed Series, Book 3)
Endless Magic (The Star-Crossed Series, Book 4)
The Reluctant King (The Star-Crossed Series, Book 5)
The Relentless Warrior (The Star-Crossed Series, Book 6)
Breathless Magic (The Star-Crossed Series, Book 6.5)
Fateful Magic (The Star-Crossed Series, Book 6.75)
The Redeemable Prince (The Star-Crossed Series, Book 7)
The Starbright Series
Heir of Skies (The Starbright Series, Book 1)
Heir of Darkness (The Starbright Series, Book 2)
Heir of Secrets (The Starbright Series, Book 3)
The Siren Series
The Rush (The Siren Series, Book 1)
The Fall (The Siren Series, Book 2)
The Heart (The Siren Series, Book 3)
Bet on Love Series
Bet on Us (An NA Contemporary Romance)
Bet on Me (An NA Contemporary Romance)
Every Wrong Reason
The Five Stages of Falling in Love
The Opposite of You (Opposites Attract Series)
The Difference Between Us (Opposites Attract Series)
The Problem with Him (Opposites Attract Series)
Constant (The Confidence Game Duet)
Consequence (The Confidence Game Duet)
Connect with Rachel on her blog at:
http://www.rachelhigginson.com/
Follow Rachel on social media
The Five Stages of Falling in Love
“Hey, there she is,” Grady looked up at me from his bed, his eyes smiling even while his mouth barely mimicked the emotion.
“Hey, you,” I called back. The lights had been dimmed after the last nurse checked his vitals and the TV was on, but muted. “Where are the kiddos? I was only in the cafeteria for ten minutes.”
Grady winked at me playfully, “My mother took them.” I melted a little at his roguish expression. It was the same look that made me agree to a date with him our junior year of college, it was the same look that made me fall in love with him- the same one that made me agree to have our second baby boy when I would have been just fine to stop after Blake, Abby and Lucy.
“Oh, yeah?” I walked over to the hospital bed and sat down next to him. He immediately reached for me, pulling me against him with weak arms. I snuggled back into his chest, so that my head rested on his thin shoulder and our bodies fit side by side on the narrow bed. One of my legs didn’t make it and hung off awkwardly. But I didn’t mind. It was just perfect to lie next to the love of my life, my husband.
“Oh, yeah,” he growled suggestively. “You know what that means?” He walked his free hand up my arm and gave my breast a wicked squeeze. “When the kids are away, the grownups get to play…”
“You are so bad,” I swatted him- or at least made the motion of swatting at him, since I was too afraid to hurt him.
“God, I don’t remember the last time I got laid,” he groaned next to me and I felt the rumble of his words against my side.
“Tell me about it, sport,” I sighed. “I could use a nice, hard-”
“Elizabeth Carlson,” he cut in on a surprised laugh. “When did you get such a dirty mouth?”
“I think you’ve known about my dirty mouth for quite some time, Grady,” I flirted back. We’d been serious for so long it was nice to flirt with him, to remember that we didn’t just love each other, but we liked each other too.
He grunted in satisfaction. “That I have. I think your dirty mouth had something to do with Lucy’s conception.”
I blushed. Even after all these years, he knew exactly what to say to me. “Maybe,” I conceded.
“Probably,” he chuckled, his breath hot on my ear.
We lay there in silence for a while, enjoying the feel of each other, watching the silent TV screen flicker in front of our eyes. It was perfect- or as close to perfect as we had felt in a long time.
“Dance with me, Lizzy,” Grady whispered after a while. I’d thought maybe he fell asleep; the drugs were so hard on his system that he was usually in and out of consciousness. This was actually the most coherent he’d been in a month.
“Okay,” I agreed. “It’s the first thing we’ll do when you get out. We’ll have your mom come over and babysit, you can take me to dinner at Pazio’s and we’ll go dancing after.”
“Mmm, that sounds nice,” he agreed. “You love Pazio’s. That’s a guaranteed get-lucky night for me.”
“Baby,” I crooned. “As soon as I get you back home, you’re going to have guaranteed get-lucky nights for at least a month, maybe two.”
“I don’t want to wait. I’m tired of waiting. Dance with me now, Lizzy,” Grady pressed, this time sounding serious.
“Babe, after your treatment this morning, you can barely stand up right now. Honestly, how are you going to put all those sweet moves on me?” I wondered where this sudden urge to dance, of all things, was coming from.
“Lizzy, I am a sick man. I haven’t slept in my own bed in four months, I haven’t seen my wife naked in just as long, and I am tired of lying in this bed. I want to dance with you. Will you please, pretty please, dance with me?”
I nodded at first because I was incapable of speech. He was right. I hated that he was right, but I hated that he was sick even more.
“Alright, Grady, I’ll dance with you,” I finally whispered.
“I knew I’d get my way,” he croaked smugly.
I slipped off the bed and turned around to face my husband and help him to his feet. His once full head of auburn hair was now bald, reflecting the pallid color of his skin. His face was haggard showing dark black circles under his eyes, chapped lips and pale cheeks. He was still as tall as he’d ever been, but instead of the toned muscles and thick frame he once boasted, he was depressingly skinny and weak, his shoulders perpetually slumped.
The only thing that remained the same were his eyes; they were the same dark green eyes I’d fallen in love with ten years ago. They were still full of life, still full of mischief even when his body wasn’t. They held life while the rest of him drowned in exhaustion from fighting this stupid sickness.
“You always get your way,” I grumbled while I helped him up from the bed.
“Only with you,” he shot back on a pant after successfully standing. “And only because you love me.”
“That I do,” I agreed. Grady’s hands slipped around my waist and he clutched my sides in an effort to stay standing.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, but didn’t allow any weight to press down on him. We maneuvered our bodies around his IV and monitors. It was awkward, but we managed.
“What should we listen to?” I asked, while I pulled out my cell phone and turned it to my iTunes app.
“You know what song. There is no other song when we’re dancing,” he reminded me on a faint smile.
“You must be horny,” I laughed. “You’re getting awfully romantic.”
“Just trying to keep this fire alive, Babe,” he pulled me closer and I held back the flood of tears that threatened to spill over.
I turned on The Way You Look Tonight- the Frank Sinatra version- and we swayed slowly back and forth. Frank sang the soft, beautiful lyrics with the help of a full band, while the music drifted around us over the constant beeping and whirring of medical machines. This was the song we thought of as ours, the first song we’d danced to at our wedding, the song he still made the band at Pazio’s play on our anniversary each year.
“This fire is very much alive,” I informed him sternly. I lay my forehead against his shoulder and inhaled him. He didn’t smell like himself anymore, he was full of chemo drugs and smelled like hospital soap and detergent, but he was still Grady. And even though he barely resembled the man I had fallen so irrevocably in love with, he still felt like Grady.
He was still my Grady.
> “It is, isn’t it?” He whispered. I could feel how weak he was growing, how tired this was making him, but still he clung to me and held me close. When my favorite verse came on, he leaned his head down and whispered in a broken voice along with Frank, “There is nothing for me, but to love you. And the way you look tonight.”
Silent tears streamed down my face with truths I wasn’t ready to admit to myself and fears that were too horrifying to even think. This was the man I loved with every fiber of my being- the only man I’d ever loved. The only man I’d ever love.
He’d made me fall in love with him before I was old enough to drink legally, then he’d convinced me to marry him before I even graduated from college. He knocked me up a year later, and didn’t stop until we had four wild rug rats that all had his red hair and his emerald green eyes. He’d encouraged me to finish my undergrad degree, and then to continue on to grad school while I was pregnant, nursing and then pregnant again. He went to bed every night with socks on and then took them off sometime in the middle of the night, leaving them obnoxiously tucked in between our sheets. He could never find his wallet, or his keys, and when there was hair to grow he always forgot to shave.
And he drove me crazy most of the time.
But he was mine.
He was my husband.
And now he was sick.
“I do love you, Lizzy,” he murmured against my hair. “I’ll always love you, even when I’m dead and gone.”
“Which won’t be for at least fifty more years,” I reminded him on a sob.
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