by Lesley Jones
“Lean forward and take hold of the counter. I want to watch us fuck,” I order.
She turns to face me.
Her eyes open, then her mouth, just as her brows pull down into a frown.
“Koa?”
Her eyes are wide, and she looks terrified. My heart jackhammers in my chest and my mouth instantly feels dry.
“Gracie, what the fucks wrong?”
“Babe, either I’ve just left the biggest snail trail ever, or my water just broke.”
We both look down at the puddle on the tiles, then back up at each other.
“Does that mean we can’t fuck now?”
I chuckle.
“Probably best not to. You got contractions?”
“I’ve been getting them all night. I thought they were just the practice ones.”
She bites down on her bottom lip, and her eyes fill with tears.
“I’m really scared Koa, maybe I shouldn’t have insisted on pushing him out and opted for the ejector seat method instead.”
I pull her into me and wrap her in my arms. “We talked about this, you’re gonna do great, and if there are any problems, we can soon change our plans. I’ll go along with whatever you want. We’ve got this.”
All of my other kid’s had been born by caesarean, so really, I was as clueless as Gracie as to what was about to happen, but I’d be right there with her every step of the way.
Her contraction is so strong that I actually feel her belly tighten as it presses against me.
“How far apart are they?”
“About fifteen minutes.”
“You wanna take a bath, while I call the hospital and let the kids know what’s going on?”
“I was actually thinking of going for a run, or maybe cleaning the upstairs windows.”
She bats her lashes and smiles at me sweetly.
“We’ll see who’s cracking jokes when you’re trying to squeeze something the size of a cantaloupe out of that tight little pussy of yours.”
Her mouth drops open, like wide open. I shouldn’t have said that.
I really shouldn’t have said that.
“I’m thinking my tight little pussy might just need a year to recover from something like that.”
I give her ass squeeze because she’s still butt naked and my hands are full of her soft flesh. Is it wrong that I’m still hard for her?
“Essex, we both know there’s no way you’ll be able to go a year without having me inside you. You struggle to go one day just lately.”
“I’ve still got Vance in a drawer somewhere, he can give me everything I need.”
I bite her neck, squeeze her ass once more and tell her, “I’ll run you a bath, go make sure you’ve got everything you need in the bag you’ve packed and unpacked thirty times.”
I turn her around, gently smack her ass and send her on her way.
“You keep it up cowboy, I’m thinking maybe a two-year recovery.”
“Not happening. I want you knocked up again by Christmas.”
Her steps falter as she mumbles, “No fucking way. I’m having a drink and enjoying Christmas this year.”
GRACIE: THREE YEARS LATER…
HE DIDN’T KNOCK ME UP by Christmas, it happened New Year's Eve.
I sit with my sketch pad on my knees, staring out at the water. I’d originally come to Colorado to get some inspiration for a ski wear range. It didn't happen. Instead, I became swept away and sucked into a life that you only read about in romance novels or watch on made for television films on rainy afternoons.
I met a man.
A unique, amazing man.
And within the space of three weeks, I’d fallen in love and agreed to marry him. To become his third wife.
Third wife. Alarm bells should’ve started ringing at the knowledge that he’d tried marriage twice before—and failed.
They did ring, loudly. I just chose to ignore them. And now here we are, two kids and three years later.
“Will you please be careful with her?” I shout to Koa, or Kai, whichever one of them might do me the courtesy of listening.
“She’s fine, you really think I’d let anything happen to her?” Koa calls back.
He wouldn’t, I know with one hundred percent certainty that he wouldn’t. But I’m a mum and when two six-foot-plus men are throwing your one-year-old, eighteen-pound baby girl through the air in a game of catch, while standing chest deep in a freshwater lake, it’s my job to remind them to be careful.
“Daddy and Kai used to throw me like that, but I’m too old for all of that nonsense now.”
I smile down at Malia, who’s on a blanket at my feet, sketching in her own pad. She spends more time with us than she does with her mother these days, especially since Lucy separated from husband number three and started a rather bitter divorce process.
I watch Koa as he emerges from the water, body wet and glistening in the sun, our baby girl, Lani, on his hip, our son Flint on his shoulders.
I lick my lips as my womb contracts, causing my belly to tighten.
Yep, I’m gonna have three kids under three. The next baby Carmichael is due in about eight weeks and after that, I’m shutting up shop. I’ve done my bit to make sure my husband's handsome genes continue to populate the planet, along with Kai and Malia, there will be five of his offspring spreading the gorgeousness.
When he reaches us, Koa shakes a dripping Lani, and his wet hair, all over Malia and I as we work. Malia screams, secretly loving the attention she’s now getting from her dad. We’ve been mindful of the fact she’s probably feeling a little insecure with all of the changes in her life right now, and I try my hardest to show her as much love as I do Lani and Flint.
Koa shoves our squirming daughter at me, and I pull the towel from the back of my chair and wrap her in it, as he scoops up a now screaming Malia and heads right back into the water with her. Flint is still on his shoulders, shouting encouragement at his dad to dunk her. Malia shrieks her protests about getting her hair wet. She’s such a girl.
Despite the snow not inspiring me the way I’d hoped, Malia had. Instead of a winter line, I’d been unstoppable come the spring. Malia’s love of pinks, purples and butterflies, had been combined with the blues and mauves of the flowers that appeared all over the mountains as the weather warmed up.
Kaftans, smocks, long floaty skirts. The whole line reflected how I was feeling, chilled and relaxed, despite being very pregnant.
Koa’s super swimmers had done the job pretty much the very first time we’d had unprotected sex. Flint Koa Carmichael had been born just nine months after we first met, he turned two a week ago. Lani will be one in a month and in just a few weeks’ time, we’ll be adding another little boy to the family.
I’d broken Koa’s tradition of giving his children Hawaiian names, but I’d insisted that my side of the family were recognised with the naming of my first born. Flint was my mum’s single name and my grandparent's surname. I wanted to honour their memory and show thanks for all that they did for me, so called my son Flint. I had no clue what the new baby would be called. This time it was Koa’s choice, and he couldn’t seem to decide.
I look down at Lani, who has instantly fallen asleep. Not really surprised, she’s been in the water for the last two hours.
When I first arrived in Addison, I’d stood at the back doors of the cabin and looked out over the snow-covered landscape at what I thought was a shed off in the distance. It was, in fact, a boathouse. The land that the cabin was built on backed onto a huge freshwater lake and it was my favourite place in the world to spend time.
Once we’d made the decision to make the Cabin our full-time home, Koa had had his team construct a summer house down by the water's edge. It had a kitchen, bathroom, a television and large comfy sofas for when the kids had had enough of the sun or the water, and two bedrooms if anyone needed to sleep. There’s a barbeque out on the veranda and a fire pit beyond that. It’s where we spend most of our summers.
&n
bsp; Koa also had a recording studio built beside Kai’s barn conversion. The band have released six singles and an album since I’ve been here. Koa has just returned from a short four-week tour. We don’t lead a rock and roll lifestyle though, far from it.
The band aren’t really well known outside of the U.S, so never travel abroad, and now that we have the studio on site, even when they’re recording, he still comes home to me each night.
Koa passes a giggling Flint off to Kai as Malia swims around them. He starts making his way back to me, and again I blatantly stare, appreciating all that is Koa Carmichael.
He walks right to me, resting his hands on the arms of my sun lounger, he leans forward, getting all up in my grill.
My pregnancy hormones, which Koa refers to as my pregnancy ‘whoremoans’ are once again rampant and I would happily spend all day every having sex. I’m in a perpetual state of horniness, and my husband loves it.
“Like what you see Essex?”
“Always.”
“Wanna slip inside, so I can slip inside?”
“Absolutely.”
“Good, but you’ll have to walk in front of me. I’ve got a boner about the size of Mount Massive happening in my shorts right now.” I instantly look down at our sleeping daughter and frown.
“She’s sleeping and would have no idea what I was talkin’ about even if she could hear me.”
“I know, but still, talking about massive boners around her little ears still feels wrong.”
Malia squeals and Koa turns and looks over his shoulder at his three eldest children when he looks back at me, his eyes appear to be shining with unshed tears, and I watch as he attempts to swallow down whatever it is he’s feeling. His throat moves at a rapid rate as he struggles.
I reach out and touch the side of his face. He still has his beard, but he keeps it trimmed much shorter these days. I love it either way. There’s nothing I don’t love about this man.
“You alright?”
He smiles.
“Do you have any idea how fucking happy you make me?”
“No, tell me.”
He leans right in, lifts Lani’s chubby hand and rests his forehead on mine.
“You’ve given me a life I thought was lost to me, Gracie. You’ve turned this old cabin back into a home, and you’ve filled our lives with love, colour, babies, and so much more.”
“Teamwork babe. We’ve created all of this together.”
Lani stirs, and Koa lifts her from my non-existent lap and lays her on the sun lounger next to me. She’s still wrapped in a towel, but now she’s in the shade, so he places another one over her.
I watch as he brushes her hair from her face and kisses her cheek before coming back to help pull me up. He sits where I was and helps me ease back down to sit between his legs, my back rests against his front.
He reaches into the cool-bag beside us and pulls out a beer and opens the twist top. His empty hand comes around to my front and rests on my belly.
“I’ve been thinking about his name.”
“Oh yeah. Come up with anything yet?”
“Well, I know all the kids have Carmichael as their surname, but I wanted to do something in honour of my dad and Billy. The two men that raised me.”
My extra sensitive nose can smell the beer that Koa’s just taken a drop of, and my mouth waters. Definitely no more babies for me, beer all the way once this one’s born. Or wine, wine works. Vodka even.
“I think that’s a beautiful idea, so what are you going with?”
“McKinney William Carmichael. We’ll call him Mac.”
“I think that’s perfect. Your Mum and Billy are gonna be chuffed to bits.”
I feel his chest move as he laughs behind me.
“What’s funny.”
“You are Essex.”
“Why’s that?”
He kisses my bare shoulder, causing instant goose bumps to race across my skin.
“Chuffed to bits, you just sounded so English when you said it.”
“Well, I am English.”
He wraps both of his arms around me, while still holding his beer in one hand, and pulls me as tight into him as it’s possible to be.
“Perfect is what you are Essex. You, me, us, our lives. All of it is fucking perfect.”
Now it's my turn to swallow down the emotion.
“Love you, Cowboy.”
“Love you too, Essex, so fucking much.”
AS ALWAYS THERE ARE SO many people to thank, but first and foremost, my editor, Ashley Williams. You have been an absolute rock throughout this entire process. You’ve turned a dread of editing into something I now almost enjoy. Your tips and advice are invaluable, and I love our conversations.
Thanks, as always, to my amazing PA and admin team. Here we are, another release! I honestly don’t know where I’d be without all of you holding my hand and listening to me vent while I ride the crazy train of this writing process. Each of you are like family, not just to me, but to each other and you’ll never know just how much that means to me.
To everyone that has supported me on this journey, I thank you for the likes, shares, posts and comments, but most of all, I thank you for believing in me and reading my words.
KM, thanks for just being you. My no bullshit, straight up, says it like it is, sounding board… Oh, and for putting up with my snoring.
That cover though… What can I say? Thank you Franggy and Tiffany, you ‘got’ exactly what I was trying to achieve and I love it hard. It’s been an absolute pleasure to work with you both.
Mr J! What a year it’s been. I never thought this book was gonna get written. I thought for a while, no book was gonna get written by me again ever. Without your love, support and unwavering belief in me, it wouldn’t have happened. You’re my rock and my safe place. You put up with my shit and ignore my tantrums. Thank you for loving me the way you do.
CARNAGE BOOK #1
The Story Of Us.
CARNAGE BOOK #2
The Story Of Me.
MARLEY
A Carnage Novel
THE LETTERS
A Carnage Novella
SAVIOUR SERIES
CONVICTION
SPIRALLING SKYWARDS
Book One Falling
SPIRALLING SKYWARDS
Book Two Fading
LESLEY JONES WAS BORN AND raised in Essex England but moved to Australia in 2006 with her family. Her first book, Saviour, was published in 2013 and she quickly gained a reputation as a writer of gritty, down to earth characters, involved in angsty and emotional plot lines. Carnage, her third novel, has won a number of awards for ‘Best Ugly Cry’ Her readers love the fact that she can switch her stories from hot and steamy, to snot bubble ugly crying, followed by laugh out loud moments, in the space of a few sentences. She has declared that the very best part of her job is meeting her readers and has travelled the world a number of times over the past few years to do exactly that.
When not writing, she has admitted to being a prolific reader, getting through around four or five books a week. She is a fan of trashy reality TV, listening to music, watching her son play football and enjoys a glass of wine… or three.
CONNECT WITH LESLEY @
http://lesleyjonesauthor.com/
https://www.facebook.com/LesleyJonesAuthor/
https://twitter.com/LesleyKJones
https://instagram.com/authorlesleyjones/
Table of Contents
Copyright
Table of Contents
Playlist
Glossary Of Terms
Dedication
Prologue
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
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Also by Lesley Jones
About the Author