All the Pretty Lies

by M. Leighton

  Hemi says nothing, just nods slowly as he trails his fingertips over my skin.

  “I can understand that. Death has a different effect on everyone. Whether it’s because they’ve seen it or they dread it, or that they’re simply ignoring it, everyone reacts. That’s why I got this,” he says, tugging up his shirt on one side so that I can see his tattoo, the one he let me shade for him. “These are my brothers initials and the date that he died. I had a string of wire inked around it each year the date rolled past and I hadn’t found his killer. For me, death put my life on hold. I wasn’t living at all until I met you. You brought color and beauty and life back to me, even when I didn’t know it was missing. I got lost inside these letters. But even so, Ollie was always speaking to me. He’s the one that used to say, ‘Live, no regrets.’ Even in death, he was finding a way to help me get over the loss of him. Over the guilt and the pain and the regret. That’s why I wanted you to do the letters for it. As early as that was, that first night at the hotel, I think some part of me knew that I had to move on or I’d have even more regret. Regret over letting you go. Regret over letting something that I can never change rob me of the only future I’ll ever want now.”

  Once more, I feel the twitch of my muscles, reacting to what he sometimes says without coming out and saying.

  “I love that philosophy! It’s why I’ve never made promises. We’re humans. Frail and short-sighted. We don’t have the right to make promises we have no way of keeping. Until I met you, I didn’t really want any. No promises meant no regrets. No lies, no broken hearts. But now I see what a promise can mean, what kind of life they have, weaving in and out of the words. Some promises are hope. Like my butterflies were hope.”

  Hemi climbs in bed and stretches out beside me, pulling my naked body close to his and pressing his forehead to mine.

  “You are my hope. You are the promise of my future. Without you, I have only regret. Nothing good. Or colorful. Or beautiful. Just death and sadness. You brought me to life, Sloane, and I don’t ever want to be apart from you.”

  His lips brush mine, softly, tentatively. Despite my determination to wait, I lean into him, turning my head into the kiss. Hemi is hesitant at first, but when I thread my fingers into his hair, I feel the heat rise in him. I feel it in the way his tongue sweeps over mine. I feel it in the way his fingers dig into my hip. I want to show him I’m not glass. I want him to love me like I’m made of steel.

  I reach down to tug at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up until I can feel his warm skin against my naked breasts. I moan into his mouth as he rolls me onto my back, his hips sliding between my legs like he was made to fit there.

  I bend my knees and clamp them on either side of his waist, unwilling to let him go now that I’ve got his fire back. He flexes his hips and grinds them into mine, giving me friction where I suddenly need it most.

  I tear my mouth away from his just long enough to whisper, “Hemi, make love to me.” And then I bring his mouth back to mine, my free hand working its way under the waist band of his jeans to cup his muscular butt.

  “Sloane, you’re sick,” he says breathlessly, his palms still roaming up and down my sides, teasing the edges of my breasts.

  “I’m not, Hemi. I’m not sick anymore. I feel better. I’m strong. And I’m healthy. And I want you to do to me all the things you promised you’d do.”

  He growls, diving back into my mouth with renewed zeal. I can’t help but wonder which vivid conversation he’s thinking back to. We’ve had so many.

  But then he stops. I could almost cry when he extricates himself from my arms and legs. I try to hide the pout from my face. Hemi moves to the end of the bed and stands there, looking down at me. He does this for several seconds before he reaches for the button fly of his jeans. He strips them off first, then his shirt, before he crawls back onto the bed, kissing his way from my foot to the top of my thigh, his hot breath stirring me even more.

  “Not today. I want to do depraved things to you every day after today. But not today. Today, I’ll make love to you. I want you to feel it every time I slide into your perfect body that I love you. Yesterday. Today. And as many tomorrows as we might have, I love you Sloane. I’ve always loved you. Let me show you with my body what’s been in my heart all this time.”

  Hemi kisses me again, his hands travelling over my breasts, teasing my nipples, then down to my stomach and beyond. With his fingers, he brings me right to the edge, but before I fall, he moves over me, guiding his thick head to my entrance.

  Looking down at me, his eyes boring holes into mine, Hemi brushes his lips back and forth over my mouth, his breath tickling as he says. “I love you, Sloane Locke.”

  “And I love you, Hemi Spencer,” I reply.

  With his eyes fixed on mine, Hemi enters me in one smooth motion. I gasp and he groans, the feeling of his body buried in mine nothing less than exquisite. He fills me so completely, fits me so perfectly, that I know it’s meant to be. It’s natural. It’s fated.

  And, just like he intended, with our bodies joined and him staring into my eyes, I feel exactly what’s been in his heart all this time.

  It’s the same thing that’s been in mine.

  Eternity. Eternity together. Eternity in love.

  EPILOGUE- Sloane

  18 months later

  “I have no clue why you’re nervous. Personally, I think you’re batshit crazy.”

  “Sarah, I’m not batshit crazy. I’m not crazy at all. I just don’t know how he’ll react.”

  “Yes, you do. He loves you, dumb ass.”

  “I know he loves me, but…”

  “But what?”

  “We’ve always talked about the future as being after the trial. Well, the trial is over. It’s been four months since Duncan was convicted of involuntary manslaughter of Hemi’s brother. Four months since my brother was cleared of all suspicion after they busted Duncan. And even longer since they proved Duncan used Steven’s security pass that he’d been stealing at night. Now we’re free to move on. Just like Hemi said we would. Only he hasn’t really talked about it much. At least not seriously. Not like we’re making definitive plans. And now this.”

  This!

  “Speaking of all that cloak and dagger shit, have they still not figured out a way to tie Duncan to the death of his informant? That guy who was muling all those drugs who just happened to have a very nasty, very fatal car accident after Hemi’s brother died and Duncan got too scared to continue?”

  “Nope. He may end up getting away with that one. He thought he’d tied up all the loose ends. He just didn’t count on Hemi. One thing you can be sure of, though. My brother won’t rest until Duncan has paid for all his crimes. Steven was devastated. And Duncan’s father was appalled. I mean, Duncan used him to get the details on the coke bust to start with. Otherwise he’d never have known how much was locked up down there.”

  “Well, even if he doesn’t get convicted of it by the courts, some big jailbird named Bubba will make it right. He’ll take it right out of Duncan’s ass. The hard way.”

  “Ewww, Sarah!”

  She giggles at my reaction and I smile and shake my head. I press my foot to the brake, stopping at the stop sign before turning onto the street where Hemi and I now live. A few months ago, we bought a beautiful house in a subdivision right outside Atlanta and he’s there today finishing up the painting of the office. Even though I don’t like being away from him, even if it’s for a little while, I’m filled with anxiety about going home.

  Since that trip to the hospital when I had the flu, Hemi and I haven’t spent one night apart. I graduated college three months ago and we both work full-time at The Ink Stain now. We’re together a lot. And it never gets old. I never get tired of him. I think, if anything, I just want him more. I love him more.

  We’ve talked about the future quite a bit. I’m just now twenty-three and Hemi is thirty. We’ve talked about what comes next, but haven’t made any set plans. We’ve even talked abou
t having kids, which we decided to consider more after the wedding. Of course, I wanted to get started immediately. Or six months ago.

  Now, that won’t be an issue.

  My stomach flips over nervously. “Well,” I begin, addressing Sarah. “I’m almost home. I guess I’d better go. Wish me luck.”

  “You won’t need luck, Sloane. You’ve got the love of one of God’s rare creatures—a good man. You won’t ever need luck again.”

  I feel a tiny bit better after hearing that. But it doesn’t completely eradicate my anxiety.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Okay. If all else fails, take off your clothes.”

  “That’s good, sound advice. Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “Trust me. It works,” she declares. “Anyway, call me tomorrow, chickie.”

  “Tomorrow,” I agree returning her kiss noise before disconnecting.

  I park in the garage and hit the button to close the door as I make my way up the short set of steps that lead into the house.

  I check the office first. I get a little pang when I take in the pale sage walls, a color I picked out so that when a baby does come along, we won’t have to repaint and worry about fumes while I’m pregnant.

  Now, that won’t be an issue either.

  Hemi’s nowhere to be found, so I head for the master. I kick off my shoes and throw them into the closet as I pass, moving toward the bathroom where the light is on. Hemi is standing at the counter, in front of the sink, holding something in his hand.

  When I stop just inside the doorway, he looks up and smiles.

  “Hey, beautiful. How’d it go?”

  “Just fine. No cavities, even though you keep carrying me to bed when I fall asleep on the couch and not waking me up to brush my teeth.”

  He grins. “But you’re so sweet when you’re sleeping. I don’t have the heart to wake you up.”

  I step farther into the room, melting into him and poking my finger in his chest. “Well, you’d better start, mister. I don’t want my teeth to rot out.”

  “I thought you said they’re fine.”

  “They are. I’m just saying I don’t want it to be a problem.”

  “Then I’ll start waking you up. But be warned that if I wake you up and you look at me with those sleepy, sexy eyes of yours, it’s liable to prolong you actually getting to sleep.”

  “Okay,” I reply with a grin of my own. Finally, I glance down at his hand. My stomach sinks when I see what he’s holding. “Why are you holding my birth control pills?”

  Hemi glances down at the little pink case, turning it over and over in his fingers. “I was just thinking about the trial and how things can finally move forward now that it’s over. My brother’s killer got justice. Your brother’s betrayer got uncovered. There’s nothing holding us back. Nothing preventing me from putting a baby in this beautiful body and watching it grow.”

  I feel my throat close around a lump of emotion. Tears sting my eyes and there’s nothing I can do to stop them. “Really?”

  “Really,” he assures. “What would you say if I threw these away? Right this minute. Just dumped them in the trash and dragged you into the bedroom to ravage you?”

  “I would say that I need to throw them out anyway.”

  His brow wrinkles. “What? Why?”

  “You remember last month when you insisted that I go to the doctor for that sinus infection?”

  “Yes, but I only did that because you’d never have gone if I didn’t keep harassing you. And you’d have ended up being sick for a lot longer.”

  “Well, remember he gave me a round of antibiotics? I didn’t think anything about us using some other form of birth control for the rest of the month. I don’t know why, but I just didn’t.”

  “What do you mean? Why would we need to do that?”

  “Antibiotics can interfere with birth control. You’re supposed to use a back-up method for the month that you’re taking the antibiotics.”

  “So what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I didn’t even think about it. And we didn’t use any other forms of birth control. And…”

  The words die on my tongue. All of a sudden this is very real. This is a very significant milestone for us. A curve in the road. A turning point. I’ll know in a minute if Hemi is as steadfast as he says, as he seems. I’ll know if he’s really in this for the long haul.

  “Are you saying you’re pregnant?” he breathes.

  I feel my chin tremble as I nod.

  Hemi closes his eyes as he exhales, dropping his forehead to mine. “Oh my God. Oh my God, I can’t believe this.”

  My stomach is a knot of confusion and fear. I don’t know what to make of his reaction. But I’m terrified he’s not happy about the news.

  But then Hemi drops to his knees in front of me. Slowly, he lifts my shirt and presses his lips to my still-flat belly. He doesn’t move for the longest time. All I feel is the warm air from his nose as it tickles my skin.

  When he finally shifts, it’s only to speak. His lips move over my belly, his voice so low I have to strain to hear him.

  “Hello in there, baby Spencer,” he whispers. “I’m your dad. I can’t wait for you to get here, to see what you look like and how you feel in my arms. But until then, know that I love you already. And I always will. To my dying breath, I’ll love you. Just like I love your mom.”

  I don’t even bother to try and stop the tears that are streaming down my face and dripping off my nose to pepper the top of Hemi’s head. It’s like the baby we made, though only five weeks old, is being christened, christened with tears of joy. Hemi and I have both already cried so much in our lives, tears of sadness and pain, of fear and anger. But now there is no room for any of that, just like there’s no room for regret. Now, there is only the beauty of today and the hope of tomorrow, and the love that we share in between.

  And if I die an untimely death like my mother before me, I’ll have lived every second of every day of my life with all the bravery and enthusiasm and love that I’m capable of. And I’ll have lived it with Hemi. And our child. There’s nothing more that I could ask for in life.

  Not. One. Single. Thing.

  THE END

  Look for the next book in this series

  ALL THE PRETTY POSES

  February, 2014

  Read on for an excerpt of the next

  Wild Ones novel

  SOME LIKE IT WILD

  COMING March 4, 2014

  A FINAL WORD

  A few times in life, I’ve found myself in a position of such love and gratitude that saying THANK YOU seems trite, like it’s just not enough. That is the position that I find myself in now when it comes to you, my readers. You are the sole reason that my dream of being a writer has come true. I knew that it would be gratifying and wonderful to finally have a job that I loved so much, but I had no idea that it would be outweighed and outshined by the unimaginable pleasure that I get from hearing that you love my work, that it’s touched you in some way or that your life seems a little bit better for having read it. So it is from the depths of my soul, from the very bottom of my heart that I say I simply cannot THANK YOU enough. I’ve added this note to all my stories with the link to a blog post that I really hope you’ll take a minute to read. It is a true and sincere expression of my humble appreciation. I love each and every one of you and you’ll never know what your many encouraging posts, comments and e-mails have meant to me.

  http://mleightonbooks.blogspot.com/2011/06/when-thanks-is-not-enough.html

  I’d also like to take a moment to thank each and every one of you who has taken the time to leave a short, honest review of this book, or any other for that matter. Reviews are more important to authors than you could imagine and I’m forever grateful to all of you who have shared your thoughts. This seemingly small mechanism is second only to word-of-mouth in ways that you can profoundly impact an author and a book. So thank you. So, so much.

  Again.r />
  Always

  Other books by M. Leighton

  Beginnings: An M. Leighton Anthology

  Blood Like Poison: For the Love of a Vampire

  Blood Like Poison: Destined for a Vampire

  Blood Like Poison: To Kill an Angel

  Down to You

  Up to Me

  Everything for Us

  The Wild Ones

  Wild Child

  Some Like It Wild (March 4, 2014)

  There’s Wild, Then There’s You (June 3, 2014)

  Madly

  Madly & the Jackal

  Madly & Wolfhardt

  Fragile

  The Reaping

  The Reckoning

  Gravity

  Caterpillar

  Wiccan

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