My One

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My One Page 1

by Knight, Kimberly




  HALO SERIES BOOK FOUR

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  Note From The Author

  Acknowledgments

  Books By Kimberly Knight

  About the Author

  No portion of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any print or electronic form without permission.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, any places, events or occurrences is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The subject matter is not appropriate for minors. Please note this novel contains profanity, explicit sexual situations, and alcohol consumption.

  Copyright © 2019 Kimberly Knight

  Published by Knight Publishing & Design, LLC

  Cover art © Okay Creations

  Formatting by © Mermaid Publishing House

  All rights reserved.

  To my husband, my one.

  When I was a little girl, I planned my fairytale wedding to my future prince.

  Every time I thought about my dream wedding, I imagined it would be during the summer at night while the stars glistened above us. The reception would be in a white tent draped in white lights and red roses. My prince and I would dance with our family and friends until our feet hurt, and then he’d whisk me off to our castle where I’d be his princess and we’d have a lot of babies. And, of course, my prince would become king and me his queen.

  But not once in my dream wedding was my plan to get married in Las Vegas.

  Granted, I didn’t know then what Vegas was or that you could get married at a drive-thru chapel by Elvis. However, I put my foot down when it came to getting married in a car. And because Avery and I tended to not wait for anything, we were getting married by Elvis. Okay, maybe not Elvis, but since we were more or less rushing to get married, I found a small outdoor venue that had a pretty gazebo and would provide us with the minister, the marriage license, and decorations. Our December wedding was going to be in the early evening, and there would be twinkling white lights like I’d always dreamed about.

  I’d realized that marrying the right person meant I didn’t need to put on a show with a lavish tent or a wedding that cost more than a house. I just wanted to celebrate with our close friends and family.

  Being with Avery and losing a baby had made me appreciate the little things. In a world filled with A-list celebrities, lavish vacations, and rent payments that cost more than my yearly salary, I’d come to the conclusion that my dream wasn’t to find a prince so he could provide the high life for me. My dream was to be happy, and Avery made me happy. Losing a baby was traumatic, and I’d spent months depressed—it still hurt to think about it—but I needed him.

  Avery was my one.

  Avery was all that mattered.

  Most of our guests were flying to Las Vegas the day after us, but the day we got to Sin City would be our bachelor and bachelorette parties with just a few friends. Brooke was in charge of planning my little party and wasn’t telling me much of anything, but did we really need a plan for partying in Vegas?

  When we booked our destination wedding, Avery left a message on his mother’s voicemail that we were getting married and when. “They won’t show,” he’d said after he ended his call.

  “What? Why not? They’re your parents.” They lived closer to Vegas than we did, and if anything, could drive.

  “Are they?”

  Avery hadn’t seen his family in over five years. I couldn’t imagine not having the loving parents that I had. We no longer lived in the same town or state, but they’d always be there for me, and I knew that. When I’d had my miscarriage, I didn’t hesitate to show up on their doorstep. But Avery? He’d flown across the country to go on a cruise and had time to meet up with his parents, but they didn’t answer his call or call him back.

  “Of course they are,” I’d replied. They were Avery’s parents, and I couldn’t imagine they wouldn’t attend their one and only son’s wedding.

  “They might have conceived me, but it takes more than blood to be a parent, Nic.”

  He had a point. Avery had never told me that his relationship with his parents upset him or hurt him, but I could tell by the way he interacted with Easton’s parents that Avery wished they were his. Jimmy and Jane were good people and had welcomed me in as their family too.

  I’d moved to where Avery sat at the dining room table, and when he scooted his chair back, I took a seat on his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck. “If they don’t show, then I will never utter another word about them. We live on the other side of the country anyway. But, I want you to be happy.”

  He’d smiled. “I am happy. You make me happy.”

  “And you make me happy, too.”

  His grin had widened, and he gazed back at me with his blue eyes. “Good, because we’re getting married.”

  I’d smiled in return and kissed his lips softly. “That we are. Want to practice for our wedding night?”

  “Like I’d ever turn you down.” Avery had picked me up, causing me to squeal, and carried me to our bedroom.

  We’d practiced multiple times.

  Vegas. The City of Sin.

  Or in my case, the city that would make me an honest woman.

  Avery, Brooke, Easton and I landed at McCarran Airport, and to say I was excited would have been an understatement. “Vegas baby!” I shouted as we walked toward baggage claim.

  “Excited?” Avery asked.

  I rolled my eyes. “Um, yeah.”

  “And why’s that?”

  I grinned. “Not sure. Might just get myself married.”

  He smirked. “Me, too.”

  Avery grabbed my hand as the four of us continued to walk. I looked over to see that Easton had Brooke’s hand and, without a word, he kissed the back of it. She smiled up at him, and it hit me that a year ago our lives were entirely different. Brooke was living with that asshole Jared, and I had the hots for her co-worker, who only wanted to get in my pants. Plus, I was dating a guy off and on who had a girlfriend the entire time—asshole. Little did I know then that booking a singles cruise would bring our future husbands into our lives. Easton and Brooke were getting married in four months, and I couldn’t wait for all of us to experience wedded bliss, start our families, and live happily ever after.

  “So, everyone remembers the plan, right?” I asked as we waited for our bags.

  Avery pulled me to him and wrapped an arm around my shoulders before kissing the top of my head. “Yes, we all know the plan.”

  “I just want to make sure because we won’t see each other after we check in until I walk down the aisle.” I looked up into his ocean eyes. “You will be there when I walk down the aisle, right?”

  He grinned. “Babe, we just flew across almost the entire country. You think I’d miss it?”

  I shrugged. “I’ve heard stories about cold feet.”

  “I don’t have cold feet.”

  “Don’t worry, Nic,” Easton spoke. “We’ll be on our best behavior tonight, and we won’t be late tomorrow.”

  The buzzer for th
e luggage carousel sounded, and the belt started to turn. “Just promise me you won’t get a black eye. I don’t want that to be in our wedding photos,” I warned.

  Avery threw his head back and roared with laughter. “You think Easton and I are the ones who will get into a bar fight? Correct me if I’m wrong, but you two”—he motioned with his finger between Brooke and me—“are the ones who get into bar fights.”

  I snorted. “You’re wrong. It was just me.” I looked at Brooke, and she shrugged with a grin. Avery was partially right. I’d almost gotten into a fistfight before my miscarriage because Avery had given me a drink on the house when I bet a woman that I could get him to take my phone number and not hers. Brooke had bet a chick that she could get Easton into the back room at Halo. That bet hadn’t led to a fight, but the girl had stormed off.

  “Then you better not get a black eye,” Avery countered.

  “No one’s getting into a fight,” Brooke stated. “Now, let’s get our bags and get this party started. We could all use a drink—or five.”

  Before we headed to the hotel, we did a walk-through of the venue. In the light of day, it was gorgeous, and I knew I’d made the right decision. It was a small location, perfect for our intimate wedding. The garden area had two rows of four park-styled benches that led to a gazebo at the end. There were white lights draped in the bushes and along the gazebo giving me a little of what I’d always envisioned my wedding to have. We did a quick run through and then went to the hotel to check-in.

  The four of us were staying at the Aria Resort & Casino on the Strip. The first night, Brooke and I were sharing a room, and Avery and Easton were in another because even though we’d all traveled together, we were treating it as a separate bachelor and bachelorette night. Tomorrow we’d meet at the wedding venue, and after I officially became Mrs. Scott, Avery and I would stay in a suite together.

  The elevator stopped on the level where my and Brooke’s room was. All four of us stepped out. My soon-to-be husband pulled me to him, wrapped his arms around me and squeezed. “The next time I see you, you’ll become my wife,” he said into my ear.

  I looked up into his azure eyes. “I can’t wait.”

  He captured my lips with his, kissing me long, deep, and passionate. It was the type of kiss that said goodbye, but also held so many promises. Tomorrow would change our lives forever. Tomorrow I would become Mrs. Avery Scott, and I was over the moon. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to sleep tonight because the excitement was racing through my veins.

  Easton cleared his throat, and Avery and I pulled our lips apart. He hugged me again. “The next time I kiss those lips will be when you’re my wife.”

  I grinned against his hard chest. “I love when you say wife.”

  Avery kissed the top of my head, and we pulled apart again. The guys got into the elevator, and I waved goodbye to my fiancé, who would be turning into my husband in twenty-seven hours.

  As soon as Brooke and I entered the room, I immediately took my dress out of the suitcase to hang it up. “I can’t believe you’re getting married tomorrow,” Brooke stated as she watched me unzip the white garment bag.

  “I know.” I grinned and hung the floral lace, maxi-style dress on the mirror across from one of the beds. The ivory dress was simple and sleek with a V-neckline, a beaded waist, and a tulle overlay. I loved it. It couldn’t be more perfect for my intimate wedding.

  “Nervous?”

  I raised my eyebrows in confusion. “Should I be?”

  “No.” Brooke smiled. “You talked about cold feet at the airport, and I just want to make sure you’re okay with this.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  She shrugged. “It’s just fast, and I want to make sure you’re ready.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Okay.” Brooke smiled again as she started to unzip her luggage.

  “Stop trying to freak me out.” I continued unpacking.

  “Not trying to freak you out. Marriage is huge, and a lot has happened this year.”

  “Did you forget you’re engaged to Avery’s best friend?”

  Brooke chuckled slightly. “Nope. Didn’t forget that.”

  “We have good men, B.”

  “I know. I’m just doing my maid of honor due diligence.”

  “Thank you. Now, can we get ready to get me drunk?”

  She grinned. “Yep. Tonight, I’m paying you back from my birthday.”

  Brooke and I were almost ready to go when there was a knock on the door. The moment it swung open, I knew my friends from Boston had arrived.

  “Let’s get this party started!” Kym shouted.

  “We’re almost ready,” Brooke replied and stepped back, letting Kym and Jenna enter.

  “Are you ready to have a final night as a single woman?” Jenna asked, stopping at the bathroom where I was putting on the final touches of my makeup.

  I turned to face Jenna. Kym was standing next to her. “No. I think I’m just going to cancel the whole thing.”

  Their faces fell. “What?” Kym asked.

  I couldn’t contain my smile any longer. “Kidding! Let’s do this.”

  “Then you better put this on,” Brooke stated. She was holding out a bride-to-be sash. I took it from her and slipped it across my chest.

  “Well, now I’m official,” I teased.

  “Yeah, you are!” Kym hooked her arm through mine. “Let’s go get wasted.”

  We cheered and walked out of the room.

  My last night out as a single woman.

  Dressed in jeans and sparkly tops, the girls and I ate at Javier’s inside the Aria hotel. Afterward, as we waited for the bill, Brooke let us know the next stop.

  “I know this is Vegas, but I figured we wouldn’t want to walk all over the Strip in heels, so I thought we could go to the club here in the hotel and see if it’s fun.”

  She was right. This was our first trip to Vegas, and I wanted to see it all, but we didn’t have time. Plus, what could make one club better than the other? The girls and I looked at each other and shrugged. “I’m okay with whatever,” I stated. I was just excited to be in Vegas and getting married.

  “Great.” Brooke paid the bill, and we followed her out of the restaurant. “From what I saw online, JEWEL looks like fun.”

  After we paid to get inside, we entered the main club and headed to the packed bar. It was nothing like Halo. Of course, Halo was a bar and not a booming nightclub, but the actual main bar of JEWEL was at least double the size of the bar top at Halo. The massive space was dimly lit with black lights casting a dark purple glow. Bodies were everywhere, and the music pumped loudly. It was everything I’d imagined the Vegas party life would be like, and I loved it.

  “Shots?” Brooke yelled over the beat of the music.

  “Shots!” I grinned, agreeing.

  Once she caught the bartender’s eye, I watched her order four redheaded sluts. After they were poured, Brooke handed each of us the red liquor. She held her shot glass up, and we followed suit. “May your wedding night be like a kitchen table: four legs and no drawers.”

  “Hell yeah!” I cheered, and we all downed our shots.

  “Let’s dance.” Kym grabbed my hand and started to drag me to the dance floor.

  It had been a while since we’d gone out dancing. In fact, the last time was before Brooke’s birthday. A guy had asked me to sit on his jacket for him and I was certain I’d never forget that scenario. Plus, I still had the leather jacket the idiot practically gave me.

  As we danced to song after song, I thought about how my life had changed in less than a year. What if that guy had asked for my number? What if he’d asked for a dance? Would I have booked the cruise where I’d met Avery? I looked over at Brooke and smiled. If I wouldn’t have booked that trip, she wouldn’t have met Easton, and we wouldn’t have moved to New York. And now, while I danced with my best friends, I fully understood what it meant when people said things happened for a reason. Everything eventually
had a connection.

  I still wasn’t sure why I’d lost my baby. Maybe it wasn’t the right time? But then why did I become pregnant in the first place? Of course, I knew the answer: broken condom. But why? Why wasn’t I pregnant right now?

  “We need more drinks,” Jenna stated over the loud music. We all nodded and followed her back to the bar.

  “More shots?” Brooke asked. Shots were easy, and exactly what we needed to get drunk—fast.

  “Yeah. Let’s just do Fireball now,” I suggested. You could never go wrong with a shot of alcohol that also freshened your breath.

  “Yes, Fireball,” Kym agreed.

  Brooke turned toward the bar and ordered us the shots. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, giving her a hug. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.” It had been six months since she’d had her last radiation treatment. It had taken her some time to recover and get her energy back, and it hadn’t helped that I’d been going through my own ordeal after losing my baby, but we’d both pulled through.

  “Me, too,” she replied and hugged me back.

  The bartender placed the four shots in front of us, and I grabbed two, handing one of them to Kym as I turned around. Brooke handed one to Jenna after she’d paid for the shots.

  “Who’s toasting now?” I asked.

  Kym smiled and held up her glass of the amber liquid. “May the best of your past be the worst of your future. Cheers.”

  We clinked our shot glasses together and then downed the cinnamon whisky. “We need another,” I suggested.

  Brooke started to turn back around to the bar but stopped to stare at the person standing next to me. I looked up into the stranger’s eyes and smiled tightly, trying to be polite but not interested.

 

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