by Cole McCade
“Stop that. My dad’s right there. He threatened to shoot you once, you know.”
“Good thing I wouldn’t let something like that stop me.”
“Because you’re insane.”
“Because you’re worth fighting for.”
She laughed, turning to face him and twining her arms around his neck. Even after a year, she couldn’t believe this was real. After she’d been hired as full-time faculty at the Sorbonne, she’d packed her father up and moved to Paris. At first she’d meant to find a place just for them, but Ion wouldn’t have it—and he’d had his penthouse renovated into two adjoining apartments, to keep her father close while preserving his independence and privacy. He’d been wonderful about it. About everything. And even if it had been hard to leave Ophelia in Louisiana, she wouldn’t give up what she had right here, right now, for anything.
“I still can’t believe you got in a fight with Jake Matthews over me,” she teased.
“He was being an ass.” He nudged his nose against hers. “Why did they call you that, anyway? Hairy Mary.”
“Oh, God.” She groaned, then laughed. “I didn’t start shaving my legs until I was fifteen. I didn’t know any better.” She glanced over her shoulder, watching her father. “After Mom died…Dad was great with us, but sometimes when it came to raising girls, he was completely lost. No one ever told me I was supposed to shave my legs when I wore shorts or skirts. I could have asked Ophelia, but I was too stubborn.”
Ion gathered her closer, fingers curling in her coat. “I hope you know I’ll love you even if you don’t shave your legs.”
She snickered. “Don’t say that. I’ll hold you to it.”
“I’m serious.” He drew back, watching her intently. “Nothing matters as long as I have you. Not your legs. Not when you drag me to karaoke with your sister. Not your name.” He frowned. “Well…there is one problem with your name.”
“There is?”
“I don’t think Haverford sounds right. Or London.”
He stepped back, reaching into his pocket. When he produced a little black velvet box, she inhaled sharply—but when he sank down on one knee and opened the box, she pressed her knuckles against her lips to stifle her strangled sound.
“You’d make a much better Blackwell,” he said.
“Ion!” She stared at the ring, a delicate thing of twining platinum filigree with a scattering of tiny diamond stars. Her heart stampeded in a mad rush. “Th-this isn’t funny.”
“I’m not joking.” Vivid blue eyes never left her as he offered the ring. “Marry me, Celeste. Be mine, now and always.” He smiled dryly. “Even when the stars die, and there’s no one left to see their light but us.”
“Took you long enough,” her father muttered.
“Shut it, Dad,” Celeste hissed, before bursting into laughter and taking Ion’s hands, curling her fingers around his, clasping the ring between them. She couldn’t help looking around for camera crews; last time he’d pulled a stunt like this they’d ended up all over YouTube, Twitter, his Facebook fan page. But they were alone—just her, her father, and the man she loved.
All she needed to be happy.
“You idiot. You idiot,” she managed, as her eyes filled with tears and her heart filled with bliss. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Just stop trying to be poetic. Yes.”
“Just what I wanted to hear.” Eyes nearly burning with warmth, Ion rose to his feet and drew her close, twining his fingers with hers, the ring box a firm reminder against their palms. A promise. And as he leaned down to kiss her, he said, “You’re mine, Cel. Forever.
“And I’ll never turn my back on you again.”
THE END
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Alzheimer’s Disease is a problem affecting many senior citizens—and not-so-senior citizens, for those with early-onset indicators. Some people see it as just typical senility, an often amusing hazard of aging.
It’s not. It’s a debilitating illness that strips the core of a person’s identity, and leaves them lost among the people they love. It can destroy families, and leave proud, once-independent people helpless. Learning to live with it can be the hardest thing anyone has ever done.
My father has Alzheimer’s. He doesn’t remember who I am. In fact, I have a baby brother with the same name as me because my father doesn’t remember that he already has a son by this name. He and I were never close; complicated family situation, and he wasn’t around much. I resented him for a lot of things. I needed him for a lot of things, too. One day we might have been able to repair our relationship—but now we’ll never have the chance.
I think that’s why it was important to me to make Celeste’s father such a large part of the story, and so central to her life. I’m giving her what I can’t have: a little more time with her father before she loses him. I suppose in some ways I’m living vicariously through my character, because I can’t turn back time and reclaim what my father has lost.
There is no cure for Alzheimer’s. There are treatments, but they’re a stopgap at best. Many organizations are working to find a cure, to improve the quality of life for those afflicted, and to provide resources for family and caregivers. If you’re interested in supporting some of those organizations, check out:
• http://www.alz.org (The Alzheimer’s Association)
• http://www.alzfdn.org (The Alzheimer’s Foundation of America)
• http://www.curealz.org/ (Cure Alzheimer’s Fund)
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I have so many people to thank I don’t even know where to start. My friends have been amazingly supportive throughout all the decisions I made to get to this point—the struggles, the worrying, and the endless, endless learning. So many of those friends have done more than support, as well. They’ve helped. They’ve read and reread and edited. They’ve listened to my questions and my growling and my worrying…and so much more.
Angie, Sheri, Psuka, Tarah, Shel: thank you for being awesome beta readers. For your time, for your patience, for the questions and keen eyes that made me rethink several areas of the stories. Sabrina, Amanda, you were both amazing editors as well as amazing friends, helping me shape this book into something I was willing to let the world at large see. I couldn’t have done this without any of you—including Lorene, who gave me the push I needed to finally listen to what she’s been telling me for years, and Lyra, who was always there to cheerfully remind me that I can do this.
The McCade’s Marauders street team, too; you’ve all done so much to help spread the word, and your enthusiasm and excitement for everything have buoyed me every time this begins to feel like even the smallest struggle (even if sometimes I swear you’re going to break Facebook with the notifications blowing up everywhere).
They say writing is a lonely profession, but I’ve found it’s the exact opposite. I may have sat down to write alone the day I typed Chapter One on the very first page, but I’ve been surrounded by the support of beautiful people from that moment on…and I’m grateful for it. So thank you, all of you.
…and thank you to my mother for dutifully pretending those sex scenes were written by someone other than her baby boy.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Cole McCade is a New Orleans-born Southern boy without the Southern accent, currently residing somewhere in the metropolitan wilds of the American Midwest. He spends his days as a suit-and-tie corporate consultant, and his nights writing romance novels in between fending off Tybalt, his geriatric cat. And while he spends more time than is healthy hiding in his writing cave instead of hanging around social media, you can generally find him in these usual haunts:
• Email: [email protected]
• Twitter: @ColeMcCade
• Facebook: www.facebook.com/cole.mccade
• Website & Blog: www.colemccade.com
• Tumblr: colemccade.tumblr.com
You can also get early access to cover reveals, blurbs, contests, and other exclusives by joining the McCade’s Marauders street team
at:
• www.facebook.com/groups/mccadesmarauders/
BOOKS BY COLE McCADE
THE LOST: A CROW CITY NOVEL (CROW CITY #1)
The first book in the new Cole McCade: After Dark erotica line
www.goodreads.com/book/show/26119463-the-lost
On the day Leigh threw away her perfect life to disappear into the streets of Crow City, she gave up on love. She gave up on happiness. But her addiction to nothingness brings her to Gabriel Hart—the one man who can satisfy the desperate needs of her body and soul, who gives her the roughness she craves, who understands her the way no one else can. Yet she can’t escape her past, the predator stalking her memories…or the lonely ache for what she left behind, and the loss of the most precious thing in her life.
A SECOND CHANCE AT PARIS (BAYOU’S END #1)
A second chance at Paris. A second chance at love.
www.goodreads.com/book/show/23505829-a-second-chance-at-paris
Sweet, lighthearted contemporary romance with the joie de vivre of Paris. Author Ion Blackwell is captivated by astrophysicist Celeste London’s beauty and brains; a chance meeting in Paris brings her into his life, little knowing he’s already met her in high school as punky geek girl Mary Haverford. Celeste has reasons for hiding her identity—but when Ion discovers the truth, will her deception stop them from taking a second chance on love?
ZERO DAY EXPLOIT (BAYOU’S END #1.5)
Bonus content featured in A Second Chance at Paris.
www.goodreads.com/book/show/24216178-zero-day-exploit
Zero day exploit (noun): 1. An attack that penetrates a previously unknown vulnerability in a computer or system. 2. The kind of infuriating, manipulative man who gets under your skin and refuses to get out. And now, a one-night stand may turn out to be the biggest mistake of Zoraya Blackwell’s career.
SOMETIMES IT STORMS
Part of the IPPY Award-winning Winter Rain charity anthology benefiting RAINN.org.
www.goodreads.com/book/show/22880874-winter-rain
Ethan has never known how to love without hurting someone—or how to be loved without fear of pain. But Aurelie may be the one person who can understand his personal demons, and teach him how to let someone in.