“Come here,” he urged, pulling me closer to him. He obliterated any thoughts of retreat by lowering himself over me. His lips descended upon mine.
And I closed my eyes, pretending it was Nick.
Epilogue
Lacy
Eight Months Later
“Oh, honey, she’s beautiful!” gushed Rhonda, from her seat beside my hospital bed, holding her alert granddaughter for the first time since her birth late last night.
Andy and Rhonda had planned to come stay with Kevin and me in our small New York apartment so they could be present for the birth, but I had gone into “premature” labor three weeks sooner than expected, so they didn’t make it in time.
Andy smiled down at his granddaughter over his wife’s shoulder. “She has Lacy’s eyes.”
“But definitely the Martin chin,” Rhonda mused proudly.
“And her fingers are Martin fingers too,” Andy said with authority, holding up his own hand and wiggling his fingers for all to see as proof.
“She has Lacy’s dainty little feet, though,” inserted Kevin. “Did you see them, mom?”
Rhonda started to unfurl my daughter’s foot from the receiving blanket, but the tiny bundle squirmed and whined in protest. “Have you picked out a name yet?” she asked, as she carefully transferred my baby back into my arms.
Kevin dotingly helped rearrange the soft pink blanket around his daughter’s body until she settled down. Once finished, he looked at me, confirming our decision with a nod before making the announcement. “Nicole Grace.”
“Nic-” Rhonda’s tears were instantaneous, and she clutched my hand. “Oh, Lacy, that is a lovely gesture. I’m sure if Nick were still here he would feel honored.”
Quickly, lest my own tears overwhelm me, I smiled. “We wanted her name to represent both sides of the family. I know Nick would have made a proud uncle if he were here.”
“Just as Grace would have made a devoted Grandmother,” she said through her tears, sliding an adoring finger down Nicole’s cheek.
“Okay, honey,” said Andy, reeling Rhonda in by placing a loving hand on her shoulder. “Lacy looks exhausted. Let’s let Kevin take us back to their apartment so our two little girls can get some rest.”
While my mother- and father-in-law gathered their jackets and gloves, preparing to leave, Kevin leaned down to whisper sweet words of love, first to his daughter, and then to me. “I won't be long. I’ve already called Susan. She said she would let Alex and Mr. Mason and everyone else know. So, you don’t need to be on the phone or worrying about anything else but you and my baby girl. I want you to stay in bed and rest while I’m gone. Promise?”
“I promise. Nicole and I are going to take a nap after I nurse her again, so take your time helping mom and dad get settled in.”
“Okay. I love you,” he said, as he kissed me once more before following his parents out the door.
“I love you too,” I called after him, still smiling from all the joy that had bombarded me over the past twelve hours.
Once alone with my daughter, I switched on the small bedside radio and listened while Nicole nursed. Coincidentally, the station was playing the first song to hit the airways from Gridlock’s newly released debut album—the same song I had written the day Nick proposed, the one he had come home and found me playing that evening.
Nicole finished nursing, her eyes already heavy from satiation.
“That’s right, my love,” I cooed, wallowing in the tickling softness of her tiny fingers wrapped around one of my larger ones. “That’s your mommy. I’m singing a song I wrote for your daddy. Oh, how he would have treasured you, my precious girl.” Choked by fresh tears, I smiled through the blurry haze and wiped one of the warm droplets from where it splashed on her rosy cheek. “My Nicki. My love. Sleep, my beautiful girl, and maybe he will come visit you in dreams the way he does me.”
A few minutes later, after settling Nicole down to sleep in her hospital bassinet, a soft rap came on my door.
“Lacy Martin?” A chipper young candy-striper poked her head around the door and waited until I granted her entrance. Carrying an enormous bouquet of spring blooms and a small gift basket, the teenager crossed the room and deposited the delivery onto the night table.
Once alone again, I sniffed the beautiful bundle of flowers while seeking out a card, which was not there. Puzzled, I looked inside the small wicker basket. Inside was a plush, stuffed giraffe, looking so similar to my Boris—only newer—that goosebumps rose on my arms and chills traveled the length of my spine.
Coincidence, I decided, and my curiosity was quickly replaced by yawns. After checking on Nicole one last time, I settled onto my pillow, where my dreams carried me back to Nick.
∞∞∞
Don’t miss
Breaking Nick
Book Two of the Nick and Lacy Trilogy, expected Spring, 2018. Sign up for the newsletter at tabithadrake.com to receive exclusive sneak peeks and status updates on the release!
Thank You!
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading Breaking Lacy. If you enjoyed this book, please take a moment to support my work by leaving a review at your favorite retailer.
Thanks!
Tabitha
Acknowledgements
This book would not exist without the love and encouragement of my husband. Thank you for being my harshest critic and never sugar-coating your opinion. And most of all, thank you for this gypsy life that allows me the freedom to do what I love most. I know how lucky I am.
Thanks to my four teenage sons, who are an infinite wealth of knowledge and inspiration when it comes writing male characters. And my daughter. After four boys, she completely changed my perspective on just about everything, including the way my mind dreams up stories.
Thanks to my mother for being my champion and giving me the encouragement my ego desperately needed sometimes. Yes, we need honest and constructive criticism, but sometimes—especially when you’re doubting yourself and think everything you write is utter shit—you just need mom to say how brilliant you are so you don’t give up. And thanks to my father, who couldn’t be here to see my first book published but hoping he would be proud is one of the things that drives me most.
I want to thank my fearless critique partners, who were supportive and encouraging as well, but also had the grit to be honest and give me the harsh truth when necessary. Dina, Steph, “Kricket,” Olivia, Becky, Caroline, Veronique: I adore and thank you all. Every single one of you deserves a medal for being such amazing test readers.
And Jenn. My crippling self-doubt makes for finished books gathering dust on my hard drive much longer than they should. Thank you for every time you said, “Why are you sitting on that?” Without your ruthless shaming, this would still be collecting dust-bunnies on my hard drive.
And I must thank Marianne. You have the patience of a saint. You were a consummate professional while dealing with a bumbling novice like me. You were my first experience at this, and you made the whole process so effortless for me, while I’m sure you were probably drinking yourself silly hoping the pain would end soon. Thank you. Thank you so much!
And last but not least, thank you “Gibby.” I’ve saved all those old writing projects and realize now how shitty they were. I am mortified and deeply sorry for that atrocious first draft I threw at you when I first got started! Still, you saw something in my writing and encouraged me. It took me long enough, but I told you way (way, way, WAY!) back then that if I ever published I would dedicate my first book to you. It’s the not the dedication I promised, but it is the most earnest of all: Thank you!
About the Author
In addition to being a debut author, Tabitha Drake is a former U.S. Marine, devoted wife, and proud mother of five. Tabitha was born and raised in the beautiful Great Smoky Mountains of western North Carolina, which is the setting for most of her stories. During her stint in the USMC, she met her husband and has since enjoyed the gypsy life of a military f
amily. She currently lives in northern Virginia, where she would love to play The Sims all day every day, but the parenting and the writing constantly foil her plans.
Connect with Tabitha
For news and updates on upcoming releases, subscribe to Tabitha’s newsletter at tabithadrake.com. You can also find her on social media:
Twitter: @tabithadrake
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Facebook Page: @TabithaDrakeAuthor
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