Sammy in England (Single Wide Female Travels #4)

by Lillianna Blake

  “Maybe a shower will help me clear my head.”

  “You do that. I’ll go get us some breakfast.” He started to turn away, then he paused. He pulled me close for a deep kiss. When he released me, I had to catch my breath. “I love you, Sammy.”

  “I love you too, Max.”

  The shower did help me sort out some feelings, but the tension was still there. I couldn’t explain it. Even though Max had a perfectly rational explanation for everything, I was still on edge.

  When he returned to the room with breakfast, we shared it along with strained conversation about our plans for when we’d be in Ireland.

  “Do we need to talk more?” Max grabbed our suitcases.

  “No, we’re fine.”

  “Are you sure?” He met my eyes. “I don’t care about the misunderstanding, I just want to know that you’re telling me the truth.”

  “I’ll be fine. It may take me a little time.”

  “Good. That’s all I need to hear.”

  On our way out of the Inn, we were faced with yet another crowd of people.

  “Come here.” Max paused at the top of the steps and looked across the crowd at me.

  “Max, we have to get to the airport or we’re going to miss our flight.”

  “No. We can’t go. Not yet.”

  “Why not?” I looked at him with exasperation. I wanted to get away from the initials, the crowds, and all memories of Valentine’s Day.

  “There’s one more thing we need to do.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Max. Things will be fresh in Ireland.”

  “No.” He held my gaze. “We’re not leaving London, we’re not leaving these steps, until I know that you hear me.”

  “What do you want me to say, Max?”

  “I don’t want you to say anything. Just hold my hand.” He held out his hand to me.

  My heart lurched at the offer. With the tension that had built between us I wondered how he could want to hold my hand, but his soft smile indicated that he truly did.

  I placed my hand in his palm. He gave it a light squeeze, then guided my hand over to the railing. He brushed my fingertips along the underside of the wood.

  My heart beat faster at the sensation of freshly carved wood. “Max?”

  Chapter 30

  Max smiled and tilted his head toward the railing.

  I glanced around to be sure that no one was looking. Then I ducked down and peeked underneath. Etched into the wood were our initials and the date of our first kiss.

  I straightened up and looked into his eyes. “Max, you could have been arrested.”

  “So?” He drew me close to him. “I don’t care about chains and bars, all I care about is you, Sammy. I need you to understand that. Maybe I’m not the most passionate man. I work with technology; I’d prefer not to analyze every painting I see. But you are my passion, Sammy. You’ve opened my heart and my mind in ways I never thought were possible.”

  “Max.” I smiled at him.

  “No, I mean it.” He held my gaze and pressed my hand against his chest. “I need to know that you hear me, when I tell you this.”

  “I’m listening.” I trailed my fingertips along his chest.

  “Michelle was not my first kiss. She was not my first love. None of the women I dated were my first anything. I didn’t have my first kiss until the moment that I kissed you. You are the only woman I have ever, and will ever, love. I have shared my first everything with you. Have I kissed other women? Sure, but now that I’ve kissed you, I know what it’s like to kiss the woman I love. The moment I found you—long before either of us ever knew what that meant—was the moment that I found the love of my life—the only one.”

  I leaned close to kiss him, but he pulled back and looked sternly into my eyes.

  “Do you hear me?”

  “Yes, I do.” I gazed back into his eyes. “I hear everything. I love you too, Max.”

  “Good.” He smiled and offered me a quick kiss. “Now every time someone wishes for good luck on this railing, they’re going to get a little bit of ours too. Maybe our story isn’t as dramatic, but it’s just as passionate, Sammy. I would do whatever it took to get back to you and I will do whatever it takes to be with you. If for one second you doubt that, you need to tell me, because the thought of losing you…” He swallowed hard and shook his head. “I can’t even think it, Sammy. Please promise me that you won’t hide those feelings from me. Because all you have to do is tell me, and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving my feelings for you.”

  “You don’t have to prove it, Max.” I sighed and wrapped my arms around him, relieved to be able to do so without the slightest qualm. “You don’t have to prove anything to me. I trust you.”

  He kissed the top of my head and held me close. “Good. Because I need you to hear me right now.” He pulled back and looked me straight in the eye.

  “I do.” I smiled into his shoulder.

  “No, I mean really hear me. When I say run, we have to run.”

  “Huh?” I looked up in time to see one of the maids from the Inn as she pointed a police officer in our direction.

  Quick fear rushed through me as I realized that she must have spotted Max when he’d carved our initials. My heart pounded. Was Max’s romantic overture going to end in jail time?

  “Run.” He grabbed my hand and we ran down the steps of the Inn.

  Luckily, we easily disappeared into the crowd of people who sought good luck from a railing. I laughed as we ran as hard and fast as we could. Maybe it was wrong for Max to carve our initials into the railing, but I knew why he did it, and it meant the world to me.

  As long as we remained open with each other, and honest, we would never have to wish for good luck in our relationship. With Ireland waiting for us, our lives were magical, not just because of the travel and the chance to meet new people, but because of the passion that flowed between us, no matter the setting.

  I hoped that I would leave a few things behind me in London—my insecurity, some good luck for all the people that touched the railing, and a few new friends. I just hoped that I would be able to count Michelle among them, once I apologized for my dine and dash.

  Maybe I was Max’s first love, but she was his first best friend—and that was something I couldn’t help but respect.

  Dear Reader,

  The Single Wide Female and B.I.G. Girls Club books are written for every woman out there who has struggled with their weight, self-esteem and any number of issues that we all face as we work to become the best versions of ourselves that we can be.

  They are meant to be light-hearted and fun, but I do hope that they will inspire you—to REALLY live your life to the fullest, loving yourself completely as you do so.

  If you enjoy Sammy in England, I’d appreciate it if you would take a moment to leave an honest review here:

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01ENVRBQ2

  And…

  ** I have a FREE book for you! **

  Wanna know what inspired Sammy to write her bucket list? Visit my website below and get your complimentary copy of “Sammy’s Big Plan!”

  LilliannaBlake.com

  Enjoy!

  Sincerely,

  Lillianna

  P.S. Also be sure to see the previews following this page for introductions to additional series by Lillianna Blake.

  Please enjoy the following preview for

  Sammy in Ireland (Single Wide Female Travels, Book 5)

  Chapter 1

  The dim glow of the airplane’s floor lights had become familiar to me. With so much travel under my belt, getting to the plane on time, enduring unruly passengers, and finding a comfortable way to sleep during a flight had become second nature to me. But I didn’t want to sleep.

  I was excited about landing in Dublin. Of all the places I’d visited, Ireland was the most mystical to me. Its beauty had charmed me from the time I was a young girl.

  Max, on the other hand, was quite content to be snoring away
beside me.

  I looked over at him and admired the way his lips moved in his slumber. Of all the adventures I’d experienced, my relationship with Max had been the most rewarding. After a few hiccups during our time in London, it had become my mission to ensure that our relationship wasn’t getting lost in the midst of my career.

  I pulled out the journal where I’d started writing an open dialogue with myself about my marriage. It was a safe place to express what I was feeling so that I didn’t always bottle it up. It was also an ideal way to figure out if the worry or frustration I sometimes felt was a result of Max’s actions, or something deeper within me that needed to be worked through.

  As I began to journal about my expectations for Ireland, I noticed a theme in my writing. I wanted it to be magical—from start to finish. Maybe I was putting too much pressure on the trip. We had a few extra days to spend together—just the two of us—and that was like a fantasy to me. No interruptions—just Max and Sammy time.

  Even though we’d been traveling together, it was sometimes difficult to get that alone time when we could just focus on each other. With my book tour picking up steam and the popularity of my blog increasing, there was always extra work to do.

  So I made a promise—to my journal and to myself—that I would make my marriage a priority and spend our few days of freedom engaged with the amazing man that I’d married.

  As I tucked the journal away and closed my eyes, it hit me once more—the acknowledgement of the way that my life had taken off. From no motivation, to nothing but movement.

  The plane touched down in Ireland and my imagination started to go wild with possibilities. There were so many things to explore.

  I slipped my hand into Max’s and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “We’re here, Max. We made it.”

  He opened his eyes with a sleepy smile and nodded. “I’m glad.” He kissed me quickly on the lips before he stood up to gather our carry-on bags.

  I took the time to admire him yet again. Max had been the one constant in my life, a dream come true for me, not through skill or demand, but because I’d opened my heart and allowed our love to blossom. I hoped that I could continue to keep that open heart.

  “Are you excited? I’m so excited!” For once I forgot about being subdued on a plane.

  “I’m all about the green beer.” Max smiled.

  “Green beer?” I raised an eyebrow. “Is that the only thing you’re excited about?”

  “Not at all.” He laughed. “But the look on your face just then was worth it.”

  “Stop teasing me, Max.” I didn’t have time to be exasperated, as the passengers on the plane all wanted off at the same time. I enjoyed hearing the mixture of accents and languages that I often heard on the plane. It was on my list of to-dos while in Ireland to learn a few Gaelic phrases.

  Once we collected our luggage and were out of the airport, the reality of where we’d landed really struck me. Ireland’s brooding skies and expansive greens were not exactly reflected in the busy streets of Dublin. But the architecture still enchanted me. I snapped a few pictures through the window of the taxi on our way to the hotel.

  “I have a feeling I’m going to be seeing that camera instead of your beautiful face.” Max laughed and patted my knee. “We’ll have plenty of time for photographs.”

  “No way, Max, you’re going to be seeing a lot more of me than that.”

  “Oh, really?” He grinned. “Do tell me more.”

  “Max, you’re so silly.”

  “Am I?” He kissed my cheek. “I guess we’ll find out.”

  The taxi rolled to a stop outside a small hotel surrounded by other buildings. Max stepped out and held the door for me so I could follow. He paid the driver, then gathered the bags. I grabbed a few from his hands.

  “I can carry them.” He frowned.

  “I know you can, but you shouldn’t have to carry everything.”

  He met my eyes and grinned. “I see where you’re going with this, but it’s my privilege and pleasure to carry your bags.”

  “Have you been reading One Hundred and One Sweet Things to Say to Your Wife again?”

  He shrugged and winked, then led the way into the hotel.

  Once we were registered we took the elevator to our floor. I rested my head against the back of the elevator for a moment and yawned.

  “Are you okay, Sammy?”

  “Sure. We can just put our bags down, and then we can start exploring.”

  “You don’t want to rest a little first?”

  I stifled another yawn and shook my head. “I’ll be fine. I can’t wait to get out there.” I leaned a bit on Max’s arm as we left the elevator for the room.

  Once inside, I sat down on the edge of the bed and smiled. “We’re here.”

  “Yes, we are.” Max sat down beside me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “So what do you want to do first?”

  There were a million ideas on the tip of my tongue but when I opened my mouth I yawned again. “Maybe I just need to stretch out for a minute.”

  “Good idea.” He sprawled out on the bed beside me.

  As I struggled to stay awake, Max was no help. He stroked my cheeks and brushed his fingertips through my hair. The more he soothed me, the more comfortable the bed felt. My eyes fluttered closed and, just before I fell asleep, I realized that Dublin would have to wait.

  End of the preview.

  Get Sammy in Ireland (Single Wide Female Travels, Book 5) here:

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01GSFAJSS

  Please enjoy the following preview for

  To Love Again (Forty and Free, Book 1)

  Chapter 1

  Every wrinkle met its match with the firm pressure and glide of her palm. Even though there were very few wrinkles in the shirt, Nicole was determined to make sure that there were none. Her hand trembled as she swept it over the next wrinkle.

  How was she ever going to accept the idea that her children now had another mother in their lives?

  She glanced over at the suitcase beside her. It was piled up with more clothes than any ten-year-old girl could possibly need for a two-week trip. But Nicole needed for everything to be there. In the back of her mind, she recognized her attempt to prove that she was, and had always been, a good mother—but that didn’t stop her from smoothing out the last wrinkle.

  She set the folded shirt into the top of the suitcase and stood up from her daughter’s bed.

  So much had changed in the last year in unexpected ways. Perhaps—as some of her friends claimed—she should have seen it coming, but she didn’t. Divorce had hit her like a freight train and plowed right through her happily ever after.

  Only—if she was being honest with herself—it hadn’t been exactly happy, not towards the end, anyway.

  She walked out of her daughter’s room and picked up a pile of laundry that sat outside her twelve-year-old son’s door. She wanted to make sure that it was clean before she packed it. Since he seemed incapable of actually putting his clothes in his drawers these days, she just gathered all of the clothes from the floor to wash them.

  As she walked down the hall to the laundry room, framed photographs—hung exactly two inches apart—stared back at her. There was the photograph of her ex-husband, Jack, as he cradled Jordan the day he was born. Beside it, another photograph of Jack, with Melody in his arms.

  Once they were happy—she was sure of it.

  At the very top of the rows of photos was the wedding portrait. With eager smiles and much smaller waistlines, the shiny faces in the photograph looked foreign to her, as if they were people she’d never met.

  She reached up and loosened the frame from the hook on the wall. It wasn’t right to have it there—not when he was so obviously moving on.

  She dropped the laundry off and carried the photograph into her room—what used to be their room.

  The moment she sat down and sunk into the familiar give of the mattress, tears stung her eyes. She looked at the pictu
re for a long moment. It was really over now. There was no special cement to put together what had broken many years before, and the fantasy that there might be was gone too.

  While Jack had been falling in love, she’d been struggling to deal with the notion of being forty-two and alone. While he was considering adding new babies to his life with his young bride, Nicole was thinking about menopause and whether or not to dye her blonde hair, which had began to sprout silver streaks of reality.

  Time marched on, and she didn’t know how to catch up.

  Before the tears could begin to flow down her cheeks, she took a deep breath and grabbed her cell phone from the charger on her bedside table. She logged into her new favorite website. It was a support group of sorts, but in reality it was a place for women to be honest—to talk about their fears and their joys, and, most of all, vent about life.

  Forty and Free was a website that she’d stumbled upon while attempting to figure out how to react to her divorce. She enjoyed the sisterhood that she felt there and the lively debates. As her heart ached, she typed out a message to post. It detailed her ex-husband’s destination wedding, how excited her kids were to be part of it, and how alone she felt because of it.

  When she posted it, she prepared herself for whatever responses she’d get. Within seconds she had messages of support from an assortment of women. What heartened her was the fact that these women weren’t all moms or all newly divorced. Some had been divorced more than once, some had been with their husbands from the time they were in high school and some had never been married. Everyone had their own view of what a relationship should be and no one was shy about sharing it.

  As Nicole sorted through the responses, she received an alert about a private message from one of the women she’d became close friends with, Ella.

  Cielo Spa & Resort! Trust me. Book yourself a room and have some fun. You owe it to yourself to get out of this rut, and see what the world has to offer. It’s the perfect time—with the kids away—to get to know yourself again.

  Ella’s words impacted Nicole more than she would have expected. She typed a quick response to thank her friend and let her know that she would consider it, then she logged out.