Back Forever

by Karen Booth

  Back Forever

  Karen Booth

  Karen Booth

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Also by Karen Booth

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Excerpt: Hiding in the Spotlight

  Copyright © 2016 by Karen Booth

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is purely coincidental.

  Cover design by Phillip Dwyer.

  Created with Vellum

  For every reader who fell in love

  with Christopher and wished to be Claire.

  Chapter One

  Claire’s sideways “What are you up to Penman?” grin was always at the ready. “Looking for something?” She rolled to her stomach, draping an arm across the pillow.

  Her bottomless blue eyes stopped me in my tracks. They captivated me in a way that I’d tried like hell to put into words, but I always fell short. As well as I’d done in my music career, turning tales of women and love into song lyrics, attempting to distill anything about Claire into a few lines of poetry only reminded me that I had a lot to learn.

  Still in boxer shorts after unearthing my trousers from the clothes slung over a chair, I traipsed across the aging hardwoods of her bedroom. At some point, she’d need to admit that her house was no longer quaint—it was bursting at the seams. It had been nearly four months of cohabitation and I was still living out of two sticky, stubborn drawers she’d emptied in her bureau.

  “I’m sorry I woke you.” I plopped down on the mattress, scratching my head. My hair was thankfully returning after I’d had the not-so-brilliant idea of shaving it. “I was trying to be quiet.”

  “You’re sweet, but you’re not quiet.” She eased back to her side and stretched. “What time is it anyway?”

  “Nearly six. Your dad wanted to run some supplies to the recording studio before I take you to the airport.”

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  I circled my finger on the creamy bare skin of her arm. Without fail, it thrilled me to see that my touch gave her goose bumps. “How are you feeling this morning? Still no sign of your monthly visitor?”

  “My monthly visitor? You sound like my grandmother.”

  “Come on. I’m just excited.” I smiled and peeled the covers back. “Scoot over.”

  “Isn’t my dad waiting for you?” She slid to the middle of the bed and I cozied up next to her. She giggled as I nosed around in her neck, a musical sound that produced welcome tremors in my body.

  “Your father can wait fifteen minutes.”

  “Is that all I get?”

  “Unfortunately, my dear, I doubt I can give you the full business this morning. Richard is far too punctual for that to happen.” I propped myself up on my elbow and combed my fingers through her tangled, flaxen hair. “I was just hoping for a bit of a morning snog.”

  “I’m sure I have the worst breath.” She quickly clasped her fingers over her lips.

  “I’ll take my chances.” I pried her hand away and pressed my mouth against hers. Even the subtlest sense of surrender had me eager to take her. Damn her father and his schedule. I reluctantly put on the brakes and kissed her forehead. “How many days late are we?”

  “We?” She grinned, as sunlight filtered into the room and cast her in an unearthly, angelic light.

  “Yes. We.”

  “Only two.”

  “Two days is better than none.”

  “I could take a test when I get back from New York tomorrow if you want.”

  “I don’t want to wait that long. Let’s do it now.”

  “It’s pretty soon. It might be a waste of a pregnancy test.”

  “Do you honestly think I care about that?” Delayed gratification had never been my strong suit, and my impatience was much worse with this matter. A lifetime was a terribly long time to wait.

  Claire tugged on my earlobe with her fingers, a seemingly innocent move that zipped electricity along my spine. “No. I don’t suppose you care about that.” Her forehead crinkled as she studied my face. “If we’re going to do it, it has to be now. It’s more accurate right when you wake up, when your pee is concentrated.”

  “Mmm. I love it when you talk about things like tests and urine.”

  “You have to promise not to get too excited. The test could very easily be negative and then you’ll only be disappointed.”

  I skimmed my finger along the contours of her collarbone. “I don’t think it’s possible for me to be too excited. And of course, I’ll be disappointed. I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t be, but we just keep on trying. I like that part.”

  “I know. I do too. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

  “We’ve been trying for four months. It’s got to happen soon.” I caught uncertainty in her eyes. “You aren’t worried that something’s wrong, are you?”

  “No, not really.” She shook her head. “But you’re going to be forty-five this year and I’m already forty. It could take some time.”

  “It’s not going to take me long to get you pregnant. I was bloody accurate the first time.”

  She twisted her plump, raspberry-pink lips. “I’m not a carnival game. You aren’t swinging a mallet to ring the bell. Maybe the first time was a fluke. A lot of women have fertility issues at my age.”

  “As far as I’m concerned, we’re a couple of kids.” I gently lifted her tank top and kissed her stomach. “Hopefully there’s a little nipper already in the oven, and if not, we try again.” I circled my finger on her belly. “I vote that we take the test.” I rolled out of the bed and pulled the covers back. “M’lady.”

  Claire scooted across the mattress. “Here goes nothing.” She ran her hands through her messy blonde bedhead, shuffling into the bathroom. The cabinet door creaked when she opened it and took one of the pregnancy tests from our small stockpile.

  “Do you really want to be in here for this?” She broke the seal on the box and unwrapped the test stick.

  My brow furrowed. “Of course. I’ve been in the loo while you peed, darling. This is hardly new territory.”

  “Okay.
If you say so.”

  I searched in the medicine cabinet for a distraction. Claire already felt enough pressure. I didn’t want to make it any worse. Band-aids? No. Pain reliever? I don’t have a headache. Ah, yes, dental floss.

  She placed the cap on the test stick and set it on the side of the sink. “Get your watch. It takes five minutes.”

  I stumbled into the bedroom. Much like the rest of the house, the top of the bureau was a mess of her things and mine, co-mingling. Under a few t-shirts, I found my watch. “Do we do four minutes since it took me a minute to find it?”

  “No, just do five,” she called back above the sound of rushing water in the sink. “It’s the same difference.”

  I returned to the bathroom and tried not to steal a peek at the dreaded stick. She lowered the toilet lid and sat, so I took a spot on the edge of the tub.

  My mind was a torrent of nervous anticipation. Something felt different, but perhaps that was wishful thinking. Is she? She really could be. Our baby could be inside her right now.

  Claire crossed her legs and ran her hand along the bare skin of her calf. “I need to shave.”

  “I didn’t want to say anything last night, but you are getting to be a bit scratchy.”

  She frowned in an entirely adorable way. “Gee. Thanks.”

  “Honestly? I hadn’t noticed at all.” I glanced at the watch. Only two minutes into this exercise in mental torture. Bloody hell. “You’re perfect just the way you are.”

  Her chin dropped. “That’s very sweet.”

  There it was—the look on her face, the early morning sun streaming through the bathroom window, seconds ticking away at a snail’s pace—a moment captured in my consciousness. Something monumental was about to happen. It made the hair on my arms stand on end.

  My vision dropped to the watch again. “One more minute. Can we look?”

  She shook her head vehemently. “No. Just wait.”

  “But I don’t like to wait.”

  She smiled. “I know you don’t. It’s adorable. And a little annoying.”

  I consulted my nemesis, the watch, again. “Ten seconds.”

  “Hold my hand.” She reached for me, her fingers wagging. “We close our eyes and open them on three.”

  “Deal.” I stood as she did, enveloping her hand with mine. My eyes clamped shut as ordered, she began to count.

  “One…Two…Two and a half…”

  “Very funny.”

  She giggled. “Three. Open.”

  I blinked. I focused.

  There it was.

  One blue line.

  Bugger.

  I caught the sigh before it left my throat. Sharing my disappointment would only make her feel worse. I tugged her into an embrace, pressing my cheek to the side of her head. My fingers trailed through her silky hair. “Weren’t we just saying how much we like trying?”

  She managed a quiet laugh, but trembled beneath my touch. “I didn’t want to say anything, but I actually thought I was pregnant.”

  The admission only made me hold on tighter, never wanting to let her go. She wanted this as badly as I did and I’d talked her into taking the test. “It’s okay, darling. Really. And it’s still early, right? We could do another test in a few days if you’re still late.” I choked back intruding tears. “I love you so much, Claire. That’s all that matters.”

  “I love you too. I’m just ready for this to happen. I don’t like feeling like our life is on hold.”

  “Do you really feel that way?” You know she’s right. Our life is on hold.

  “Yes. I hate seeing that look of disappointment on your face. I want to give this to you and it hasn’t happened.”

  “I don’t want it to be more important than us.” You’re all that matters.

  “You can’t deny that you want this very, very badly.”

  “I don’t want it as much as I want you.” Am I the most daft man on the face of the planet? Without another moment wasted, I dropped to my knee, which hurt like hell when it thudded against the tile floor. “Ow.”

  “Chris, what are you…” She looked down at me with genuine puzzlement, certainly warranted as she was in her pajamas, me in my boxer shorts, both of us in the bloody bathroom for God’s sake. Not the most glamorous of settings, but I think it works. Her lips were lovely and pouty. Get on with it so you can kiss her.

  I took one of her hands, but failed to catch the other before it flew to her mouth. Her deep blue eyes were wide with wonder.

  I cleared my throat and took a deep breath. I had one shot at getting this perfect. “Claire Abby, I love you more than I have ever loved another human being.” The words left me feeling as though my heart might burst out of my chest. “You are the most extraordinary and wonderful and frustrating woman I have ever met and I want you to be mine forever.”

  She gasped. A giggle leaked out of her.

  “Did you squeak, darling?”

  “Maybe.” Her shoulders shook, her eyes watered. “Please, go on.”

  “I want you to be mine. Forever. Even if we never get to have a child together, I’m never letting you go. That is, if you’ll have me. Claire, will you marry me?”

  Her other hand dropped and she smiled in a way that left her cheeks as full as ripe peaches on a summer day, mine for the picking. Her face was such a distraction that for a heartbeat or two, I didn’t realize she hadn’t yet answered the question. I wagged an eyebrow, hoping she had no defense for that.

  “Well?” I asked.

  “Shhh.” Her smile returned as soon as she relaxed her lips.

  “Shhh?”

  “I’m savoring the moment.”

  “Why don’t we savor the moment after you give me an answer?”

  Chapter Two

  My face ached from grinning. I loved Chris, adored him, and he’d just asked me the question, but the temptation to toy with him was too great. “Okay. I’m sorry.” Not a breath could leave my lungs. He deserved his answer first. “Yes. A million times yes. Yes, Christopher James Penman, I will marry you. Now get off the bathroom floor and kiss me.”

  He stood, peering down at me with eyes that were extra sparkly, full of the mystical green light I prized. He would be mine. I would be his, for real, forever. His strong hands gripped my shoulders and I rose to my tiptoes, closing my eyes, even when I wanted to watch every millisecond of his reaction. His lips were so tender and perfect, kissing me with a softness that felt more sincere, more real, than any kiss we’d ever shared.

  He rested his forehead against mine and smiled. “Don’t cry,” he whispered, lowering his head and kissing a tear from my cheek.

  “I can’t help it.” I sniffled. “I’m happy.”

  “Good. Because that’s all I want.” His lips went to my jaw then inched down my neck. “I mean, in addition to this.”

  He held on to me tighter. I leaned into him. The brush of his skin, his body heat, was so enticing it made me dizzy. “I know. I want that too.” I was so ready to give in, fling my pajamas across the room and rid him of his boxer shorts, except that I couldn’t. My flight. The interview. “You have no idea how badly I want you right now.” I sucked in a deep breath. “But I have to finish packing.”

  He stopped every wonderful thing he was doing to me, sighing deeply. “Your father is waiting for me downstairs.”

  “My dad. Right.” My shoulders slumped. Back to reality. “Sam’s probably up too. Are we telling people?”

  “We have to tell Samantha and your dad.”

  “Of course.” I nodded.

  “We should do that this morning.” He hoisted my suitcase from the chair in the corner and plopped it down onto the bed. “Otherwise, they’ll feel left out. After that, Graham and Angie.”

  Right. Chris’s best friend and his wife would need to be told right away.

  “My mum,” he continued. “My sisters. Your sister.”

  One simple question, one suitably simple answer, and two minutes later the weight was on the accelerator
from sheer inertia. We’re getting married. “Wow. It’s a lot of people to think about.”

  “The rest of the world can wait for a little while. I don’t want this turning into a circus, although we can’t keep people from finding out forever. It’ll get out eventually. Very soon if we aren’t careful.”

  “You know I’m not comfortable being in those magazines. I hate the feeling of not having any privacy.”

  “We can’t control what people decide to write about or take a picture of. It’s only a matter of time before your dad slips and tells one of the guys at the hardware store. That’ll be the end of it.”

  “I know. You’re right.” I flipped through the clothes in my closet until I found the two tops I wanted to take to New York. “I shouldn’t be such a control freak.” I turned and looked up at him. His hair was so adorably squirrelly in the morning, so drop-dead sexy. “You know what my dad’s going to say about this?”

  “Run, Claire, before it’s too late?”

  I slugged him in the arm, prompting an irresistible smile. “Stop it. My dad loves you.”

  “Richard is warming to me. I’ll give him that much.”

  “He’s going to ask where the ring is, Penman.” I smirked. “He’s an old fashioned guy.”

  “This is awful, but I don’t have a ring for you yet.” He grasped my elbow. His eyebrows drew together. “Or do I?”

  He bounded to the dresser and tugged open the sticky bottom drawer and began rifling through a stack of t-shirts. When he turned, he held a wooden box, the size of a paperback book. He flipped the lid, revealing a green felt-lined compartment.

  “These are some of my dad’s things. His dog tags from when he was in the British army, a few photos of him when he was a boy, and…here we go. This is what I was looking for.” With a flip of his fingers, a man’s gold wedding band appeared in his palm. He reached for the hem of my t-shirt, giving the ring a quick polish. “May I?”

  I watched as he took my left hand in his and slipped the ring on to my finger. My entire body tingled. “It’s a little big, but I love it.” I held out my hand, fingers splayed.