Choosing Forever
Page 1
Table of Contents
Prologue
Epilogue
COPYRIGHT
TABLE OF CONTENTS
DEDICATION
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
OTHER BOOKS BY MARY
Providence Series Book Four
By Mary B. Moore
Copyright
© 2018 Mary B Moore
All rights reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced, copied or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system without written expressed permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, businesses, places, events and incident are products of the authors imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is purely coincidental.
Cover and Formatting design: SK Designs - http://sexykittendesigns.authorsvanhorne.com/
Cover Photograph: Reggie Deanching – RplusMPhoto
Model: David Wills
Editor: Buffy the unicorn lover
The use of actors, artists, movies, TV Shows, and song titles/lyrics throughout this book are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as advertisement. Trademark names are used in an editorial fashion with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or if it was not purchased for use only, then you should return it to the seller and please purchase your own copy.
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the Copyright Act 1911 and the Copyright Act 1988, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior express, written consent of the author.
This book is intended for mature adults only and contains consensual sexual content and language that may offend some. Suggested reading audience is 18 years or older. I consider this book as Adult Romance. If this isn’t your type of book, then please don’t purchase it.
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Table of Contents
COPYRIGHT
TABLE OF CONTENTS
DEDICATION
PROLOGUE
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
OTHER BOOKS BY MARY
Dedication
To my sanity…the Townsends stole you from me and I miss you. We hadn’t really experienced anything together, to be fair, but having the option of you being there at least was always nice.
If you decide that you’d like to meet up, please let me know.
Love,
Mary xoxo
Prologue
Sabine, Sabine, Brett Townsend’s little Queen.
The tower must topple,
The Queen will fall,
And will the King still be standing after it all?
One
Brett
Why did I not put a jacket on before I left my house? Cole’s house wasn’t that far away from mine, but the weather was fucking freezing this morning.
I’d left Sabine wrapped up warm in bed, allowing her a bit more sleep seeing as how I’d woken her up early. Just the memory of how I’d woken her up had me smiling, something I really wasn’t used to doing before she came along.
I didn’t bother knocking on the door before I went in; Ebru wouldn’t mind. After all, she was married to my asshole of a brother and it was a miracle he’d even made it this far in life, let alone being married with a son. It took one special woman to sign up for life with that dipshit.
Walking into the living room, I saw Cole on the floor with my other brother Ren’s daughter, Crystal, and my friend’s twins, Dewi and Kali, crawling all over him. Normally he’d be screaming and playing with them, but… Wait, was he crying?
Any other brother would probably ask if he was okay, but instead I looked over at Ebru who was sitting on the couch calmly drinking her coffee with a small smile on her face. A raised eyebrow from me was all she needed.
“We’re babysitting. Coffee?”
“No shit,” I drawled slowly, nodding at the same time. Maybe Cole was contagious because normally she’d be bouncing in her seat as she explained what was going on, with the lint muncher still crying on the floor.
When she didn’t say anything else and instead went and got me a coffee, I looked back over at him to see if I could see any blood. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been roughed up by the kids.
“Here you go,” she put the massive cup down in front of me and then went back to her previous seat, going back to watching the moving bundle of kids and the dipshit in front of us. That was one of the best things about coming over here, Ebru always had coffee ready to go. She was one of the biggest caffeine addicts I’d ever met.
Leaning back, I lifted the cup and took a mouthful, still watching the writing mass of baby limbs and listening to the excited baby chatter as they attacked the still sobbing Cole. I was about to swallow when I looked over at the massive Christmas tree in the corner of the room. Cole had done a Clark Griswold this year and had cut down a tree that was way too big for his…what the fuck was that hanging from it?
Leaning forward, I tried to get a better look, but I couldn’t figure it out.
“Oh, we got our art on yesterday,” Ebru murmured, noticing where I was looking in obvious confusion.
“What are they?” I stood up and went closer to try and figure it out.
“They…” the window licker whimpered from his spot under the kids. “They…it’s a massacre,’ he broke off with a groan and curled up into a ball holding his crotch. The twins had discovered that they got a great reaction if they aimed for a guy’s crotch, so they made it their mission now to hit as many as they could, much to the pride of their mother, Isla. Little fuc… The glittering red torpedoes on the tree caught my attention again.
Going closer, I went to touch one and then instantly recoiled when I realized what I was looking at.
“Are they…” they couldn’t be. That was just wrong!
Straightening, and ‘accidentally’ kicking Cole in the gut as I moved away from the tree as fast as I could, I turned and looked back at the grinning Ebru.
“Well,” she shrugged, as she sipped her coffee. “They wanted to make Santa ornaments. I didn’t
have anything else that they could use that would go all poofy for his beard.” Her hands moved like she was fluffing out a big beard.
Looking back over at the tree, my mouth opened and closed a couple of times. I was saved by my youngest brother, Tom, coming in.
“Yo!” He shouted, then stopped as he took in Cole who was still in the fetal position on the floor. “What happened to…” he stopped and looked at the tree. “Hey, that’s looking really good now that he’s cut it in half.” That was the thing with Tom, he had squirrel syndrome – that irritating inability to focus on just one thing at a time. It was one of the billion reasons why few people would get in a car with him behind the wheel. “Aw, did you guys make Sant…whoa!” Jumping back from the tree, he stopped and pointed at the red glittery torpedoes hanging at the bottom of it. “That’s disgusting!”
Shrugging, Ebru went back to her coffee, still grinning. “I didn’t have anything else to use that would make it look real.”
“So, you used tampons,” Tom almost screeched before he leaned over and tapped one with his finger making it swing around.
Admittedly, it wasn’t a bad idea. They’d poofed out part of it for his beard, but it was the bottom of it painted blood red with bursts of glitter here and there that made it just look wrong.
“Listen, asshole,” Ebru focused on Tom who was still making the tampons swing with his finger, shuddering each time. “When you have three kids screaming and trying to paint each other, while a baby is crushing your vagina from the inside out, let’s see how desperate you get.” My eyes flicked down to the barely visible bump under her top and I couldn’t help my own shudder at the graphic image she’d just given us. “And,” she stood up and walked over to pick up Crystal who was sitting on Cole’s back, pulling hard on two chunks of his hair while she bounced hard and screamed. I winced when I saw the strands of hair still in her fists once Ebru had hold of her and was walking back to her seat. “It’s not like I’m getting any use out of them just now.”
“Did you have to paint them red though?” Tom picked one up and held it close to his face before making a gagging noise and flicking it away from him. Unfortunately, it hit Cole in the face and then fell onto the floor in front of his nose.
Opening his eyes, Cole took in the Santa tampon massacre right in front of him, got up faster than I’d ever seen anyone move, and started gagging. He had a legitimate phobia of anything period related, a condition called Menophobia, but being the drama queen that he was he always had to take it to the max.
“He’s going to make them barf on the floor,” Ebru growled as Crystal made a dash across the floor to join in with Cole and the twins, who were now joining him in the gagging thinking that it was a game.
Realizing that now was the best time to escape before the barf arrived, I moved quickly toward the door, taking my coffee with me.
“Pussy…not on the rug!” Ebru shrieked behind me.
The sound of an Oscar worthy Cole throwing up, quickly joined by the kids, was followed by the frantic footsteps of Tom behind me. I had just cleared the porch steps when he burst out the door, hung his head over them, and then emptied the contents of his stomach into the grass.
“Is he okay?” Sabine’s slightly accented soft voice came from behind me. She was French born and bred, but had spent a lot of her childhood in England with her grandmother. Then, she’d gone to university there and had started her career in the oil industry in the country too; so, her accent was far more subtle than most people expected.
As always, though, I felt the bumps come up on my arms just hearing her voice and turned around to see her.
“You were meant to be sleeping,” I admonished as I opened my arms for her to walk into. Then, leaning down, I buried my nose in her hair and breathed deeply - something which I found myself doing every chance I could.
She was still recovering from all of the surgeries on her knee as well as the lung problems she’d had since a fire had burned out our offices. The doctors had reassured us that it wouldn’t be long before she was fully healed from both, she just had to take it easy for a while longer.
Shrugging, she moved to the side slightly to watch as Cole came stumbling out of the door.
“Don’t go in there,” he gasped, falling to his knees. “Don’t ever go in there.”
Looking up at me with raised eyebrows, I shrugged as I started to guide Sabine toward my parents’ home. Things would be normal there.
I was wrong.
“Linda,” Gramps bellowed from his chair as he watched whatever was on the television. “I think you poisoned me!”
We’d just finished a family brunch and were all vegging on the couches and chairs. Our family was growing at a crazy rate, so Mom had replaced her living room furniture so that it all matched; the only exception being Gramps recliner.
My brother, Ren, and his wife, Maya, had joined us and had taken back control of their daughter Crystal. She was crawling now and was an adorable bundle of mischief. Her cousin, Luke, and his wife, Isla, had also arrived and had grimaced as they heard the story about their twins puking all over Ebru’s living room. The twins looked like the cutest little angels, but they were savages. If I had to use one word to describe them, it would be feral.
Then there was Cole, Ebru and Tom. My little sister, Layla, was still away at college and wouldn’t be back for another week.
Now, the kids were asleep in their pack-n-plays in the room Mom had set up for them and their parents, and my own, had taken the opportunity to go and get Christmas shit from the store. Sabine was an early Christmas planner as I’d discovered, so we pretty much had it all done and dusted and could relax now.
“I didn’t poison you,” Gram snapped as she walked back in. “You poisoned yourself.”
“Well, why did you leave it in the fridge?” Gramps groaned as he undid the top button of his pants.
“Are you serious?” Grams stood over him with her hands on her hips. “When was the last time we ordered Chinese food?”
Groaning again, his stomach made one of the most heinous noises I’d ever heard making even Sabine stiffen beside me. “Last week? Ugh, stop talking about food…”
“Exactly. So, what part of you thought that it was a good idea to eat the carton of food from the fridge when it was over a week old?”
I did a silent gag at the thought of what he’d eaten. Gramps had always been a human garbage disposal. He walked along and saw an apple on the ground under one of our trees and regardless of the holes in it, even if they were in the shape of dogs’ teeth, he’d continue on his way eating it as he went. He had no food shame in his game.
We were saved from listening to more arguing by Gramps launching himself out of his chair and running in the direction of the toilet.
Shaking her head and muttering, Gram went to sit down just as a squeaky fart sounded loudly.
“Wasn’t me,” she muttered, just as an amplified fart and groan filled the room from the direction of the empty couch opposite us. I had zero control over the gag that came out of me and then a horrible thought hit me.
Looking down at Sabine, I echoed the same denial as Grams just had. “It wasn’t me.”
I was just about to try and fix whatever damage this might have on our relationship, shit knows (no pun intended) what she must be thinking of us, when my parents and the others came through the door just as the sound of a very upset stomach sounded, followed by a deep groan.
As the sounds continued, both Sabine and I looked around as the others froze and stared at us in alarm, and then looked around the room for where it was coming from. They stopped when they got to Grams, who was now calmly knitting. She’d never knitted a day in her life, but now that she was a great-grandmother she said she needed to look like one.
“Wha…” Dad’s question was broken off by the sound of something echoing and splashing loudly and another long groan. All at once we started gagging and, out of instinct, I covered my nose. “Ma?” He asked her worriedl
y.
My Gram carried on doing her version of knitting, which was actually knotting the yarn using the two needles and making us all scarves that were an inch wide in some places, as she muttered, “Not me. I’m old, but I don’t have ventriloquist fartin’ skills.”
Almost like she summonsed the ass devil himself, another vomit worthy noise filled the room.
“Get outta me,” the voice belonged to Gramps and that’s when it hit me, he had one of the handheld thingies for the baby monitor in his pocket. He insisted on carrying one in case he was more than five steps away from the kitchen and needed something. The base units were also in almost every room so that if the babies needed us no one missed it. That smart idea had been brought to the house by yours truly, something that I was regretting hugely now as it made all of the vile noises carry around us in surround sound.
I was also pretty certain that after this Sabine would be limping as fast as she could in any direction that would take her away from us.
“Jesus, it’s like the fires of hell!” Gramps chose that moment to whine, oblivious to audience that he had.