by Ashley Lyn
“Hell if I know. They covered Amy in little penises when I was leaving. They’re going out to Willa’s for the party, so who knows?”
“You don’t think they got a stripper, do you?” Luke asks, looking up from his cards.
The thought never crossed my mind, but now it’s there, burrowing into my brain. Dane and his buddy, Boomer, walk in and sit at our table. After slaps on the back, they’re dealt in. The game goes on for another hour when the thought of some half-naked man grinding on Amy starts to drive me crazy.
“Maybe we should go check on the girls. With Willa, Margo, and Cleo, there’s no telling what’s going on.”
Dane steps up. “I’ve been told that under no circumstances am I to allow you guys down there.”
Luke and I both put our cards down and stand up. “Fuck that. I don’t want some half-naked jackass rubbing his shit on my fiancée.”
Dane and Boomer block the door, so Luke and I run to the back door. Everyone else follows and we jump into Luke’s truck and head out.
I should have stayed at the bar, seriously.
Amy
I’m drunk.
After blow job shots galore, I’m in some sexy lingerie and working the pole like a pro. Ali and Drea hired a pole dancing instructor and a lady from Pleasures, this at home seller of all kinds of fun, sexy things. We all tried on some sexy outfits and browsed through the sex toys and books that she brought.
I’m hanging upside down with the teacher supporting me when a familiar figure comes into view. It’s then that the screams penetrate the fog. Stella, the teacher, helps me twirl back around, right-side up, and the alcohol gurgles in my gut. I smile lopsided at Parker.
“BABY!”
He’s looking down and I realize that one of my boobs have escaped my top. I tuck her back in and throw my arms around his neck.
“I learned how to stripper dance! And I got a pole for the house. Isn’t that so fucking cool!” He still hasn’t spoken, so I pull back and look at his pinched face. “Are you okay?”
He clears his throat. “You got one for the house?”
“Yeah, so I can show you my moves. Also, my handy teacher here said she has a studio close by, and I can take lessons!”
He blows out a breath and kisses the everloving crap out of me.
The room falls away. That is until a giant penis hits Parker right in the back of his head. We pull apart, and the guys begin to pull him out the door as they get chased by the girls wielding their very own giant inflatable dicks.
I blow him a kiss and turn around to do some more swings around the pole. Ali tries as well, but the pole can’t handle the distance and velocity and the pole collapses, sending Ali flying.
She jumps up like nothing happened, and I bend over at the waist, laughing uncontrollably.
After I get myself under control, I flop down on the couch next to her. “Promise me you’ll never tell Luke about that.”
“Sure thing, as long as you promise to never tell anyone what I told you about Parker’s pretty pierced penis.”
We both laugh, then get up to dance.
Parker
I’m carrying my very drunk fiancée into our house. She’s covered in things I would rather not even think about. Seriously, I think Ali cleared out every single penis item in all the surrounding counties.
The girls made it to the bar and lasted maybe an hour before they were all sleeping on the couch in the office.
Once we’re inside, I get her undressed and into bed. Kissing her forehead, I snuggle in close to her. It’s only two weeks until the big day, then this beautiful woman will be my wife. Blowing out a breath, I close my eyes and sink into sleep with a pleased grin on my face.
By the Second Star
Amy
I’m making a last minute adjustment to my crown of flowers and look in the mirror. Parker’s mom is fussing over my dress, while Shelly takes about a million pictures with her camera.
Steven comes sailing in with, I shit you not, a headset on and a clipboard. Tamara’s strapped into a moby wrap around his front.
“Okay, everyone, line up.” I roll my eyes and turn around as Roger, Ali, Shelly, and Judy all obey. Steven takes his time looking everyone up and down.
“Something old?” I point to my necklace that was my mother’s.
“Something new?” I point to my new earrings that Parker got me for the wedding.
“Something borrowed?” I point to the hair comb in the back of my hair that Shelly loaned me.
“Something blue?” I hold up my dress to show my light blue silk flats.
He nods his head and informs us to line up because we should be ready to go in about five minutes.
Roger is shaking his head. “I love that guy, seriously.”
In no time flat, my five minutes are up, and I can’t help but dance a little bit. I’m beyond ready to be Mrs. West.
A Thousand Years by Christina Perri starts to play and I take a deep breath. The tears are welling up as Steven gives me my cue. Bruce walks around the side of the tent with tears rolling down his cheeks, looking handsome in his tux.
I hook my arm with his and start my way down the aisle. Once my eyes find Parker, my breath catches in my throat. He looks so freaking sexy in his gray pinstripe suit. I save his eyes for last, and when I make eye contact with him, the world stands still.
He doesn’t even bother to wipe his tears away, letting them roll freely. I smile, and he smiles back.
We make it to the front and Paul asks, “Who gives this woman away?”
Bruce has to clear his throat several times. “Her parents and I do.”
Steven hands Paul the laminated sheets that have the ceremony written out on them and I snicker.
“I want all the guests to know that Steven wrote the ceremony and I practiced this time. Also, I got Steven to to print the whole thing on one sheet and laminated them so I don’t lose my place.” When people begin to laugh, he clears his throat, loudly.
“Today, we are here to witness Parker and Amy getting married. Everyone here has their own love story. Some are already written, and others have yet to be written. Some Short.” He looks pointedly at Ali and Luke. “ Some long. There are sad chapters and happy chapters. Some are exciting and adventurous.
“All of us have had the pleasure of watching Parker and Amy write their love story and are blessed to be here today to witness a new chapter, the day they say I do. We are here to support you, to hope for you, to be there through the ups and downs, the failure and the triumphs.
“You're about to make promises to each other that you intend to keep. You're going to vow to take care of each other, to stand up for one another, and find happiness in the other. There's a simple premise to each of these promises—you're vowing to be there. You're teaming up and saying to the other, “Every experience I’m going to have, I want you to be a part of.”
“Will you, Parker, keep Amy as your favorite person to laugh with, go on adventures with, support through life's tough moments? Be proud of, grow old with, and find new reasons to love her every day?”
Parker smiles at me. “I do.”
“Will you, Amy, keep Parker as your favorite person to laugh with, go on adventures with, support through life's tough moments? Be proud of, grow old with, and find new reasons to love him every day?”
“I do.”
“Will you, Parker and Amy, be each other's partners from this day forward? Will you bring out the best in one another, share your happiest moments together, and love each other absolutely for the rest of this lifetime and for whatever may come next?”
Parker and I say together, “We will.”
Paul starts patting his coat, and Steven rolls his eyes. “Like I would trust you with the rings.”
“Wedding rings are an unbroken circle of love, signifying to all the union of this couple in marriage."
Steven hands the ring to Parker.
“Amy, this ring is my gift to you, with my promise that I wi
ll always love, cherish, and honor you for all the days of my life.”
Steven hands Parker’s ring to me. My hands are strong and steady as I slip the ring on his finger. I get lost for a moment just looking at my ring on his hand. Paul clears his throat and I look up at Parker. I can’t help it, I kiss him.
“You got the rest of your life for the kissing. Let’s get this done so we can celebrate, Amy girl.”
Everyone laughs.
“Parker, this ring is my gift to you, with my promise that I will always love, cherish, and honor you for all the days of my life.”
“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!
The kiss Parker lays on me curls my toes, and probably sets something on fire somewhere, but I can’t seem to care.
He pulls back and gives me an Eskimo kiss, as Stevie Wonder’s Signed, Sealed, Delivered, I’m yours comes on.
“Hello, Mrs. West.”
“Hello, Mr. West.”
We turn and make our way down the aisle as husband and wife, best friends, and partners in this crazy life.
The End
Acknowledgments
Writing the first book was a testament to determination, struggle, and self-doubt. I was picked up numerous times by my mom, Cindy. This one was no different in that my mom is my biggest supporter and the best cheerleader.
Writing this one? I had way more confidence in myself as a writer. I didn’t struggle as much, and the self-doubt was gone. What really gave me the boost I needed were the people who read and reviewed Love Crazy and loved it. It made me insanely happy to know that I made you smile and laugh. I hope this one does the same.
My two amazing beta readers, Barbara and Eve. You two beautiful ladies rock!
Thank you to the readers, reviewers, and everyone in-between.
I hope you enjoyed another trip to Spartan!
I touched on the subject of suicide in Accidental Heiress, and I just wanted to make sure to include the number for the suicide prevention hotline. If you or someone you know is struggling and need help, know that you don’t have to go through it alone.
1-800-273-8255
Sneak Peak of
Saving Shamus
Prologue
Shamus
Grief is a wicked bitch, one I have embraced with my whole heart. She keeps me warm on the nights I realize that I have forgotten the feel of my wife’s skin against mine. The days I sit in my closet and realize that her scent no longer lingers on her clothes. The nights I wake up from my nightmare and realize that this nightmare is real, that she’s gone. The mornings I wake and panic when I can’t remember the exact sound of her laughter.
She helps fan the flames of rage when that kernel of shameful anger finds its way to the forefront of my mind. I’m not talking about the unmitigated rage at the bastard who demolished my family. I’m talking about the insidious anger at my beloved wife. Everyone talks about the steps and the progression of grief, how you have to move and work through each step to find peace.
What they fail to tell you is that the anger you have to work through isn't about the situation as a whole. In my case, it’s anger for the asshole who murdered my wife. It’s my anger at my wife. I’m mad that she left me to pick up the pieces. Pissed that she didn’t fight, didn’t tell someone that he was making her uncomfortable. I’m beyond pissed that after everything he put her through, she let him in my fucking house.
It’s completely fucking irrational, but I’m hurt that she didn’t hang on longer. That she didn’t even try to live for me. She died instantly, but that information doesn’t keep me warm at night. The emotions, all smashed together in a swirling ball of anger, shame, guilt, and confusion, warps my brain and sends me spinning.
It’s that one single sliver of anger that has kept me stuck in an absolute hell. I’d exhausted all my resources, trying to find my kids. Family and friends have, as gently as possible, tried to get me to hold some kind of service for my babies. That maybe if I say goodbye I can move on. That’s not what a father does. A father fights for his kids. He works until he’s bleeding from skin to soul to give his kids everything. I refuse to just give up on my children.
I know in my heart that my children still live. I hit a point where my heart couldn’t take the ups and downs. Doors were being closed, offices locked up, and no one would help. But one woman, one small, irritating woman, gave me hope. I pulled myself together, one fragile piece at a time, and took that hope she gave me and used it to fuel my determination to meet with the man who flipped my world end over end with just one sentence, ten words, thirty-eight letters.
“We have a lead on the location of your children.”
Chapter One
Shamus
It’s been eight very long weeks since I got the news that my children are not only alive, but that they have their location. I had a mild panic attack about the fact that my house was in shambles. Years of neglect and a man’s housecleaning left it a mess. I quit my job in construction to devote all my time in locating my children, and have been living off the money I made on the sale of our old home, along with the life insurance money. Now, though, the renovations are done. The bedrooms are clean, and there’s new carpet and paint throughout the house. Every resident, from young to old, has been over here helping me get the house ready for when they come home.
Parker gave me the name of a grief counselor, and I’ve been seeing Pamela weekly. Being able to talk to an impartial party has alleviated so much. It’s a relief to be able to share all the shit inside that I was too ashamed to tell anyone else. I will always love Jenny, but I have to let her go. It hurts to realize that, but I can’t move forward and be the dad my kids need without moving on.
Enter Savannah. I’ve never in my life come across a more stubborn woman. The call and text messages were relentless for weeks. I finally broke down and started answering the text messages, and somehow, that morphed into phone calls. She’s been my rock lately, and my feelings for her have changed into something I never thought to feel again. She’s such a bright and intuitive person. It’s like she knows when I’m having a shit day, and there she is, texting me something that happened at work, like a joke, or a stupid meme.
I don’t think I’m necessarily ready to move forward with promises and declarations, but the desire for something more is there. She makes me happy on a level I haven’t been on for years. She makes me laugh when things get tough.
I’ve filed all the paperwork to start my own construction company, and I wince a little thinking about the small loan I got from Amy to get my business setup and to get the house ready.
All the furniture is in. The minor details, like decorating and crap, is being done by the females of Spartan while I leave to fly to Denver in the morning to wait for the day that I can bring my children home.
I keep saying kids, or children. I feel like if I refer to them by their names, my heart will settle and hope will spring eternal, or some shit like that. After so many setbacks and failures over the years, I don’t think I can handle it if it all came crashing down.
I’m on the floor, leaning up against the wall in what will be their room. It’s two in the morning, and my mind refuses to go quiet and shut down so I can get some sleep. Closing my eyes, I tilt my head back to rest against the wall.
“Chloe Marie McAllister,” I whisper to the empty room, and my heart cracks just a hair. Taking a deep breath, my chest shakes.
“Aiden Sean McAllister.” The damn breaks and the tears I’ve been desperately trying to hold in for months break loose. Not with grief, but happiness. Happiness so pure and clean, my soul has no clue how to handle the emotion. After years of anger and pain, the pure joy is foreign, and feels alien somehow.
Laughter bubbles up, and even the sound is foreign to my ears. I look around the room and smile. Getting up, I get the sheets and bedding in the laundry baskets and make both beds. Placing the stuffed animals that Jenny had picked out, I place them o
n their pillows and smile.
Next, I move on to the clothes that I had Margo and Cleo help me pick out. I fold each piece and place them in the dressers. I hang every tiny shirt and frilly dress, then I line up the tiny shoes as I cry through my smiles.
I line all the creams and lotions on the little shelf. Getting the hammer and nails, I start hanging the pictures and sticking these zoo animal wall decals that Ali got on the walls. Stepping back, I realize the sun is peeking through the curtains. Looking around, I find there’s just one thing missing.
I carefully open up the box that I have sitting on Chloe’s bed and move the tissue. Pulling out the two framed pictures, one for each of them, my finger traces Jenny’s face and a different kind of cry comes out. This one hurts, but is so very necessary. I have to say goodbye. As much as I want to hold on to every breath and memory I have of her, I can’t keep holding on. I have to let go.
I carefully place the picture of Jenny on the nightstand between the beds. She had these pregnancy pictures taken just days before she passed. I could never make myself open the package and look at the photos.
She looks beautiful, standing in a field of wildflowers. A crown of flowers are on her head, and she’s wearing a flowing white dress with her hands cupping her belly. Her happy face is looking right at the camera, and her blinding smile is so full of love and happiness. Pressing a kiss to my fingers, I place it over her lips and walk out of the room.
Getting into bed, I fall into the first restful sleep I’ve have had since this nightmare began.