Unconditional: A Coming of Age Romance Novel (Always)

by Cherie M Hudson

  “Think I might stay for good.”

  She studied me. “Is that so?”

  I nodded.

  With a low hmmm, she pushed herself oh so slowly from her chair and shuffled toward the kitchen. “How about you go have a shower while I make us some afternoon tea? Isn’t that what they call it over there?”

  Rising to my own feet, I let out a wobbly laugh. “It is. And I will.”

  I showered. It felt wrong to make it a long one. I’d spent so many weeks washing myself in under five minutes that it felt indulgent to linger any longer. Shutting off the water, I stepped from the shower and then dragged my feet to my old room, drying myself as I went. Oh man, I was tired.

  Jet-lagged and exhausted.

  I entered my old bedroom, swept a look over the familiar furniture, posters, books and, unable to stand on my feet any longer, flopped face first onto my bed.

  I’d just close my eyes for a second. Just a second. While Mom served up what would no doubt be a batch of her famous cookies and a glass of milk. She was a traditionalist, my mom. Milk and cookies was a staple not to be cast aside.

  I lay on my bed, sinking into the soft mattress, growing heavier.

  Eyes closed, I let myself wonder what Raph was doing. For a tormenting moment, I wondered if he was missing me, thinking about me. Angry at me.

  And then I was asleep.

  A pale light washing against my eyelids woke me sometime later. I squinted at the sun streaming through a curtained window, utterly disorientated. Where was I? Where was Raph? Why was it so cold?

  My brain was fuzzy. Connections weren’t being made. I gazed around the room, my vision blurred with groggy sleep.

  It wasn’t until I saw the Thor movie poster with its intimidating image of Chris Hemsworth in menacing Asgardian-God pose pinned to the wall above a book-cluttered desk that my brain finally told me where I was.

  A cold fist slammed into my belly, an emotional blow so powerful it felt like a physical strike.

  I was home. In Plenty. On the other side of the world from Raph. I’d come home yesterday, sobbed in my mom’s arms, showered and then collapsed on my old bed.

  After that…

  Pushing myself up into a sitting position, I let my gaze slide around my room, reacquainting myself with its contents as the tight chill in my soul seeped into my heart. I should be happy. I’d made the choice to return, after all. This was my home. A lifetime of happy laughter and love were in these walls.

  Something soft at my elbow caught my attention and I looked down.

  At some stage during my catatonic slumber, Mom had tucked me into bed and, like she used to when I was a little girl, placed Mr. Sprinkles in my arms.

  With a wry sigh, I picked up the purple and green stuffed hippopotamus I’d cuddled in bed since I was four and pressed my face to its soft side. “Looks like it’s just you and me again, Mr. Sprinkles,” I murmured against the silken fabric.

  I breathed in Mr. Sprinkles’s familiar, comforting smell, squeezed my eyes shut and then climbed from the bed.

  I was reminded very quickly just how cold Plenty, Ohio, mornings were in mid-April, especially when you were buck naked and still acclimatized to Australian weather.

  Skin breaking out in gooseflesh, I scanned my room for something to wear. A warm beat of love throbbed in my heart when I discovered Mom had not only unpacked my suitcase while I slept, but laid out fresh clothes for me, Plenty-appropriate clothes, no less, and plugged my iPhone into its charging dock on my desk.

  I snatched up my old cheerleading squad sweats waiting for me on the back of my chair—Go Plenty Woodchucks—dressed and then hovered my hand over my cell.

  It was still turned off.

  If I turned it on, how many calls from Raph would I find? How many text messages?

  What if I found none?

  My fingers trembled, telling me loud and clear I was long overdue on taking my meds. Scrunching my hand into a fist above my cell, I stared at the black screen for a moment and then turned away.

  I wasn’t ready for what awaited me on it. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Perhaps the first thing I needed to do tomorrow was buy a new one?

  Shaking my head at how pathetic I was, I dragged my fingers through my hair, scrubbed at my face with my hands a few times and walked out of my room.

  Low murmurings from the living room told me Mom was either talking to someone or watching something on the television. Maybe the Today show.

  I shuffled down the hallway and into the living room, all too aware I was still exhausted and quite trembly. I needed coffee. Coffee, meds, bacon, maple syrup, some hash browns and more coff—

  I froze.

  Raphael Jones gazed at me from the sofa.

  “What?” I whispered.

  “This lovely young man—” Mom beamed at me from Raph’s side, a steaming coffee mug in her hand, “—seems to have come a long way to discuss something with you, Bear.”

  I stared at him. “W-what?” I whispered again. I’d like to blame sleep-deprivation and jet lag for my sudden inability to say anything but that one word, but as I’d just woken from over twelve hours of sleep, that excuse wasn’t going to cut it.

  Raph regarded me, his expression unreadable. “Hello, American girl.”

  At the sound of his voice, at the sound of his accent, every fiber in my body went into meltdown. I hitched in a sharp breath, my heart wild. My pulse pounded in my throat. My head swam. “Raph?”

  “He tells me, Bear,” my mom went on, the smile in her voice evident, “that he’s deeply in love with you.”

  I blinked. Gaped at Raph. How did he get here? God, did his mom call him the second I left Kangaroo Creek?

  He studied me, not moving, not speaking. Just watching me.

  “He also says,” Mom continued, “you’re incredibly stubborn, obstinate and a…what did you call her, Raphael?”

  Raph’s eyes held mine. The corners of his mouth twitched. A little. “A pain in my arse, Mrs. Rowling.”

  “A pain in his ass,” Mom repeated. “Although he says ass much sexier than me. In fact, he says it the same way your dad did. Arse.”

  I gaped some more. At her. At Raph.

  “Is that right, Maci?” Mom continued. “Are you a stubborn, obstinate pain in his arse?”

  The thick lump in my throat didn’t dislodge when I swallowed. Nor did my heart stop trying to hammer its way out of my body.

  I couldn’t stop staring at him.

  His hair was a mess, his eyes were bloodshot, his jeans were crumpled, his shirt creased. He looked terrible. As if he hadn’t slept for days, nor had a shower or changed his clothes. In fact, he looked wretched. Distressed.

  Determined. Dogged.

  And here. So here. Like he always said he would be—here with me.

  God, he’d followed me to the other side of the world. When I was trying to let him be free of me, he’d left Australia and followed me to the other side of the world.

  “Raph?” I rasped, the sound of his name on my lips wonderful. “What are you—”

  “Doing here?” he finished for me. “Had no other choice, did I? The woman I love buggered off on me without a word.”

  He moved then. Without warning, he rose to his feet and was standing in front of me, right there in front of me. So close I could feel his heat seeping into my body. So close I could smell his distinct scent in each shallow breath I pulled. So close our knees brushed.

  Dark eyes held me prisoner. Actually, that’s not right. Raph was standing right there in front of me. There wasn’t a hope in hell I was going anywhere. “Care to explain, Maci?” His deep voice with its sexy accent caressed my senses. Drove me crazy. “Care to give me a reason for leaving Australia like you did?”

  I swallowed. “The Crown Princess of Delvania.”

  Raph’s eyebrows shot up. “The who?”

  “The Crown Princess of Delvania.” I caught my bottom lip with my teeth. The thought of all those images she’d shown me twisted
my chest. “I saw… The princess came to see me at Kangaroo Creek and showed me… And I know you don’t love her. I’m not jealous,” I hastened to clarify. I didn’t want him to think I didn’t trust him. “Honest. But she’s a princess. And she doesn’t…”

  I stopped. Turned my head aside. The rest of the sentence didn’t want to come. Wouldn’t come.

  Raph placed a finger under my chin and, with that same soft pressure, made me look up at him again. “Have Parkinson’s?”

  I nodded with a slight dip of my head and closed my eyes.

  “The Crown Princess of Delvania is a snobby, pretentious, spoilt little cow with an ego bigger than Ayres Rock. Worse still, she doesn’t believe in global warming.”

  Opening my eyes, I frowned up at him. “You don’t believe in global warming,” I pointed out. “At least, not its effect on koalas.”

  He chuckled, trailing his thumb over my lip. “But you do. And a couple has to have something to argue about into their twilight years, right?”

  Exasperation threaded through the conflicted joy trying to overwhelm me. I shook my head, frowning at him some more. “You need to think about this, Raph,” I said. “You can’t be romantic. You need to be realistic. Think about what being with a princess could be like. And now think about what life will be like with—”

  “Bloody hell, woman,” he murmured, cutting me off. “I just flew halfway ’round the bloody world to make you realize I’m not going anywhere.”

  I swallowed. “You did.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because you love me?”

  He gazed into my eyes, his arms wrapping tight around me. “And?”

  And it was then I realized it was more. He was never going to give up on me. I’d shown him my worst. I’d shown him the coward I could be. I’d shown him my deepest fears, and he was here, in Plenty. He was never going to give up on me.

  And God, I loved him for that. More than I could ever express.

  No, I could express it.

  I looked up at him. Smiled at him. “I believe in you, Raph. And because of you, I believe in me. I trust you like you trust me. And I know I’ve probably made you question that trust with the ridiculous way I’ve been behaving, and you have every right to be furious at me, but I know, I really know, you will never give up on me.”

  “I won’t, Maci,” he murmured. “I promise.”

  Heart thumping fast, I drew a slow breath. “And I promise I will never give up on you. Never ever again.”

  A soft, lopsided grin pulled at his lips. His dimple flashed at me from his right cheek. “I know you won’t.” He brushed his thumb over my bottom lip. “Now will you shut up about some boring princess, tell me that you love me and let me kiss you? Or do I have to spank you, right here in front of your—”

  I kissed him. It was, after all, the only way to shut him up. And to let him know he was right. He wasn’t going anywhere. He was mine and I was his and that’s the way it was. I’d even shake on it. See what I did there?

  “That’s my girl,” I heard Mom say behind him with a delighted laugh as Raph wrapped his arms around me and yanked me to his body. “Told you Australian men really know how to make you feel alive.”

  Epilogue

  He proposed to me two years later. It was incredibly romantic and sweet. And it happened in the men’s public restroom at LAX. Of course.

  And in case you’re wondering, I said yes.

  Of course.

  (Raphael and Maci’s HEA will be a part of Unforgettable, Book Two of the Always series, in which Brendon Osmond finds himself back in the United States and in the arms of the woman who always regretted not following him back to Australia…)

  Thank you for reading Unconditional. I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, please help other readers find this book:

  1. This book is lendable, so send it to a friend who you think might like it so she can discover me, too.

  2. Help other people find this book by writing a review.

  3. Sign up for my new releases e-mail by joining my newsletter at www.CherieMHudson.com so you can find out about the next book as soon as it's available.

  4. Come like my Facebook page.

  More information can be found about Parkinson’s disease at:

  http://www.parkinsons.org.au (Parkinson’s Australia)

  http://www.apdaparkinson.org (American Parkinson’s Disease Association)

  https://www.michaeljfox.org (Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson’s Research)

  About The Author

  Cherie is happily married to the man of her dreams, is a busy mum of two little girls, a proud cat owner (although she suspect the cat thinks she owns her) and an insanely manic writer. She has written over forty erotic romance books under the pen name Lexxie Couper. A long time ago she gave up trying to suppress the stories in her head constantly trying to escape and has been blissfully happy since. Unconditional is her first New Adult story.

  Table of Contents

  The Arrival

  On Campus

  The Argument about Copulating Koalas

  Naked Men in Cafes

  Say Cheese

  When the Going Gets Tough, the Tough Get Shaky

  Insta-Fame Sucks

  Unexpected Changes

  Four Days and Counting. Damn it.

  Give Me a Home Among the Gum Trees.

  Shakes Be Damned

  Life Is Good

  The Royal Family, Photographs and Getting the Fuck out of Dodge-AKA Australia

  Epilogue

  About The Author