If Ever I Fall (Rhode Island Romance #1)

by Sophia Renny

  “Like he thought you needed to wear them to make you look even smarter than you already are?”

  “Something like that.”

  “What an ass. I wanted to reach through my computer screen and rip his head off when I saw him grab your arm.”

  “That was the only way he could get my attention back then,” she explained. “I was highly introverted when I was younger. There were so many things—thoughts, ideas—spinning around in my head. He had to touch me to draw me to the present. But his touches usually hurt.”

  Joe gently rubbed her arm with his other hand, as if he could soothe away those long ago pinch marks and bruises. “Tell me about some of the things you were thinking of.”

  She frowned reflectively. “It’s difficult to explain. There were so many. It could be numbers, formulas, an entire page of text that I’d read in some book the day before. Sometimes, when I was very nervous, I’d seek security in the fairytales my mother had read to me. You see, even though I could read them myself, I begged her to read them to me. Her voice was so soft and lyrical. It put vivid pictures in my head of magical lands. With her, there was so much color. With my father, everything was black and white.” She cocked her head, giving him an earnest, questioning look. “Does that make sense?”

  His smile was tender. “Perfect sense. Your mother sounds like a lovely lady.”

  “She was. I’ve always wished that I had a voice like hers. That I could talk like that.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with your voice.”

  The look she gave him clearly expressed her skepticism. “You can honestly say that, after watching those videos? After hearing the way I speak sometimes?”

  He shrugged. “I like the way you talk. And I saw a little girl who was nervous in front of the cameras. She also looked pissed off at some of the stupid questions the interviewers were asking her.”

  Her laugh was abrupt and brittle. “I was. That’s part of my problem. Things are moving so quickly in my head sometimes. I find myself paying more attention to what’s inside my head than to what people are saying to me. Basic social engagement can be a real struggle for me.”

  “I’ve seen that. But it’s not a bad thing like you seem to think it is. It’s part of the reason why I found you so intriguing in the first place.”

  “Really?”

  He brought his hand to her face and caressed her jaw, his thumb slowly tracing her parted lips. “Really. That and those beautiful eyes of yours. They’re so clear and direct. And curious.”

  She relaxed into his caress, tension seeping out of her body. Confident of his trust, she felt no anxiety in sharing the rest of her background.

  “My father had me tested for all kinds of things, in addition to my I.Q. On a very drawn out scale, I’m on the autistic spectrum. The doctors would never label me as autistic, though, just that I have some characteristic tendencies.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like how socially awkward I can be when I’m in unfamiliar situations or settings. Like how I can lose my focus and equilibrium when I’m in large groups of people. Like how I can be very literal. I mean that sometimes when people are talking to me, and they use certain expressions, I don’t always get what they’re saying right away. Because I’m picturing the literal definition of that expression in my head.”

  His fingers trailed slowly across her cheekbone. He leaned forward, bringing his face close to hers. He kissed her forehead, her eyelids, the tip of her nose, then drew back slightly to look her straight in the eye.

  “So,” he said, his voice tender and low. “If I tell you that I love you, what do you see in your head?”

  She blinked. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Her heart felt like it was going to fly out of her chest. She brought her trembling hands to his face, rested her forehead against his. She struggled to catch her breath.

  His soft, warm laughter fanned across her mouth. “Well?” he asked. “What do you see?”

  “You and me. Living in my new house. You designed that bedroom for both of us, didn’t you.”

  “I did. Though it was deeply buried in my subconscious at the time.”

  She sat back a little so she could look into his eyes. “I see you turning the garage into your workshop.”

  He angled his head so he could kiss her palm. “I like that idea. And I see you at your desk in the kitchen typing up your latest, amazing cookie recipe. I’m your official taste tester of course.”

  “Of course.”

  His eyes turned molten. “I see you mixing batter in a bowl with nothing but an apron on.”

  She giggled. “How did you know that’s the way I always dress when I’m baking?”

  He kissed her mouth, lingering. “I see you and me sitting on a park bench,” he whispered, his voice shaking slightly. “We’re holding hands and looking towards the lighthouse. Your hands are worn with age and time, but in my eyes and in my heart, they are always soft and unlined, just like they are now. Is that literal enough for you, my Wilhelmina?”

  “Yes,” she whispered back. “And I see me looking at you. And I say to you—just like I’ve said a million times before that time—that I love you.”

  He smiled against her mouth and kissed her again.

  Epilogue

  “Willa! Hurry up. Veronica looks like she’s ready to pull her hair out.”

  Willa gave her appearance one final appraisal in the mirror. She had decided to wear a sea green sundress for the final reveal. It was Joe’s favorite color, the same color she’d worn when they had first met.

  She turned towards Collette. “How do I look?”

  “Pretty as always. How about me?” Collette fluffed her hair.

  “Adorable as always. When will you let the girls find a man for you?”

  “Been there, read the book, saw the movie.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  “Forget about it.”

  They walked into the living room and looked out the window at the busy activity taking place in Willa’s front yard. Veronica was talking to Curtis and Sam, gesturing towards the closed front door of Willa’s house. Tiffany hovered nearby, taking notes and looking slightly bored as usual. Audrey, Mercy and Shirley sat in lawn chairs on Collette’s driveway. Audrey and Mercy were chatting with each other; Shirley was watching Curtis.

  Joe and Tony were standing off to the side, arms folded across their chests as they spoke quietly to each other.

  It had taken almost two weeks for Joe’s black eye to fade and for Tony’s sprained wrist and bruised knuckles to heal. They’d told Veronica that Joe had bumped into his bathroom door in the middle of the night and that Tony had tumbled off a ladder at the warehouse. Veronica had been skeptical, but she didn’t question them any further.

  Tony had taken the news just as Willa had predicted he would. The very same day Joe had broken his engagement with Julia, Tony had chased him down and tried to beat the crap out of him. This description from Sylvie, who had witnessed the whole thing. Tony had hauled Joe out into their backyard, and Joe had let him take the first punch, just standing there like a rock.

  “How could you do that to Julia?” Tony had yelled.

  “Because I don’t love her in the same way I love Willa,” Joe had calmly replied.

  Tony hit him again. This time Joe fought back. They’d ended up rolling around on the lawn, arms and fists flailing, until Sylvie had turned the hose on them.

  “You should have seen both their faces,” Sylvie told Willa the next day while they’d been exploring the aisles at the restaurant supply store. “Tony’s face was almost purple. He looked like he was ready to explode. And Joe had such a weird expression. Like he was happy and sad at the same time. He told Tony that he was deeply, deeply sorry that he’d hurt Julia, but that it was time to put himself first, to live his dreams for once. I nearly lost it right there, Willa. I mean, it finally struck me, like it never had before, how much Joe has given up for me and Tony. I’v
e always kind of taken it for granted, you know? And I think Tony felt ashamed, too. They talked some more and then hugged it out. But I do feel bad for Julia. None of this is your fault, Willa. I like you a lot. But Julia has been like a sister to me. I’ve been trying to reach her since last night, but it goes straight to voice mail.”

  Almost three weeks had gone by, and there was still no word from Julia. Her parents had coldly informed Joe that their daughter was visiting her cousin in San Diego for a while, leaving the temporary management of Julia’s event business in their hands.

  Julia’s long absence worried Joe. Willa knew this. Julia was his family; she probably always would be. All the years she and Joe had spent together couldn’t be erased as if they’d never been.

  But Joe was also looking to the future. He’d shared with Willa that he was fully invested in the HOME series now; he wasn’t participating just for Tony’s sake. The notion that he could inspire others to repurpose materials and to find the most energy efficient solutions for their home remodels had reinvigorated him.

  He’d stayed away from Willa’s project, though, leaving it to Tony to manage. Still leery of Veronica’s “narrative”, he’d remained behind the scenes, only doing one more on-camera interview to reveal what he’d done with the section of the wall unit that would go into the bakery.

  He hadn’t shown it to Willa yet, telling her he was saving it for a surprise.

  “I’ll install it a week before you open the bakery,” he’d told her, a wicked glint in his eyes. “And then you can show me your appreciation in private.”

  The renovation of Willa’s house was done. It was time for the final reveal.

  Everyone turned to watch Willa as she followed Collette down the stairs. Both Joe and Tony moved forward to meet her at the bottom.

  “Are you ready, Willa?” Veronica asked, her face beaming. “Are you ready for your new beginning?”

  A picture of Aunt Pauline holding hands with her fiancé suddenly flashed in Willa’s head. But they weren’t standing in front of the house as they’d been in the photo. They were standing in a beautiful garden, their happy smiles reflecting the radiant light that surrounded them. They were nodding their heads at her. Willa felt their love, gratitude and encouragement in her heart.

  She met Joe’s soft, gleaming eyes, sending a silent message of love to him as she reached the last step.

  “I’m ready.”

  About the Author

  Sophia Renny loves Romance, Chocolate, and Pinot Noir. When she's not writing about strong yet vulnerable men and the women who love them, she can most often be found ignoring housework for the pleasure of engaging in fierce Scrabble competitions with her sweetheart. Yes, she did fall in love with him at first sight.

  If you enjoyed this book, please share a review on Amazon and/or Goodreads – even if it’s just a line or two! Your feedback is invaluable in helping other readers discover Sophia’s work. Thank you in advance for your time and consideration.

  Feel free to drop a kind word to Sophia via her website: www.sophiarenny.com or message her via Goodreads or her Amazon Author Page.

  Curious about the recipe for Willa’s “Oh My God” cookies? Follow Sophia's blog by email, and she’ll send it to you!

  Also by Sophia Renny

  Room 1208

  Rhode Island Romance Series:

  If Ever I Fall (Book 1)

  Chasing Julia (Book 2)

  **Continue reading for excerpts from Chasing Julia and Room 1208**

  Chasing Julia

  Copyright © 2015 Sophia Renny

  Ever since she was five years old and smacked him on the head with her red plastic shovel, Julia Kelly believed that she would marry the boy next door one day. Her mother had told her so; it was destiny.

  But the fates proved her mother wrong when that boy—now a man—fell in love with another woman and broke Julia’s heart.

  As Julia begins to pick up the pieces, she finds comfort and strength in her friendship with another man. The more time she spends with him, the more she realizes that he has all the qualities she admires most. He has integrity. He’s strong but not afraid to show his vulnerable side. He’s smart and kind, charming and funny. He loves dogs and children. It doesn’t hurt that he’s tall, dark and handsome and very, very sexy.

  There’s just one small hitch.

  He’s her ex-fiancé’s younger brother.

  *** Recommended for a mature audience. ***

  Note: This is Book Two in the Rhode Island Romance series. While it can be read and enjoyed as a stand-alone, the author suggests reading Book One, If Ever I Fall, first to fully appreciate this story.

  Excerpt:

  Prologue

  Something was licking her foot.

  Someone was licking her foot?

  It was alive, whatever it was. But it didn’t feel like a human tongue. It was a very small tongue. Very warm. Very sandpapery. Very into whatever was on the sole of her foot. That tongue was lapping at her skin at a frenzied pace, like her foot was a double scoop of Chunky Monkey that needed to be devoured before it melted under a blazing summer sun.

  Maybe this was a dream.

  Julia cracked one eye open. The eye that wasn’t scrunched against her pillow. She winced as a ray of sunlight streaming in from the bedroom window struck her eyeball like a fiery hot dagger. She squeezed her eye shut. Tiny, sharp points of light pricked through her eyelid. They pulsed with the beat of her heart.

  “Oh, God.”

  Her mouth was so dry that the words came out as a raspy whisper.

  Her head throbbed. Her eyes throbbed. Even her hair seemed to be throbbing.

  What in the world had she done?

  She was lying on her stomach. The bed sheet beneath her scratched her skin. Something hard pressed uncomfortably into her rib cage, just below her breasts. She snaked one hand under her stomach and felt around. It wasn’t the bed sheet that was causing discomfort.

  What the hell was she wearing?

  Was that a bustier?

  She slid her hand lower.

  She was still wearing panties. Satin, by the feel of them and not very substantial. Okay, that was definitely a thong. Her butt cheeks were bare.

  Why was she wearing a thong? She hadn’t worn those since she’d turned thirty; hipsters were more her style.

  And what the hell was licking her foot?

  Her feet were uncovered; one foot was hanging over the side of the bed. She jerked that foot inward and kicked the other foot out, connecting with what felt like a ball of fur.

  “Yip!”

  Four paws pounced on her lower back, nails digging through the bedspread.

  “What the—”

  “Looks like Max wants to play.”

  The weight of whatever creature that had tackled her was lifted away.

  Julia’s eyes flew open.

  That was a male voice. A very recognizable male voice. Warm and deep with a little bit of gravel. Bourbon on the rocks. It poured over her skin and flowed through her veins, igniting fires deep in her belly.

  But she’d never heard that voice right next to her in bed before.

  This wasn’t her bed.

  Her eyes tracked anxiously around the room.

  This was a hotel room.

  The window curtains were open. In the distance she glimpsed what appeared to be the Eiffel Tower.

  How did she get to Paris?

  Her heart thundered in her ears as fuzzy memories infiltrated her alcohol-soaked brain.

  This wasn’t Paris.

  This was Las Vegas.

  Oh, oh, God. What had she done?

  Slowly, painfully, she flipped over to her side to face the man lying on his side inches away from her.

  Her wide eyes landed on his naked torso, followed the dark hairs of his happy trail down to where it disappeared beneath the bedcovers. He was lean, sleek and muscular; his olive-toned skin had a healthy glow. He was using one arm to prop up his head; the other held a wr
iggling, motley-furred, grinning little dog tucked against his chest.

  She slowly lifted her eyes to his face.

  His teeth flashed white; his cheeks dimpled. His toffee-colored eyes sparkled.

  “Good afternoon, wife,” he said. “Sleep well?”

  Now available on Amazon.

  Room 1208

  Copyright © 2013 by Sophia Renny

  Maggie’s life hasn’t been an easy one. But in the last two years she’s made giant strides towards overcoming the repercussions of a devastating childhood. Now thirty years old, she’s ready to jump the final hurdle that stands between her past and a new life free from low self-esteem and old hurts.

  Taking that leap requires the cooperation of a handsome gentleman she spies across a busy airport hotel lounge. Neither one of them foresees the depth of passion shared on that magical night, a passion that is astonishing and profound.

  One night is all that Maggie expects, all that she’s planned on. But you know what they say about the best-laid plans…

  [This book is intended for mature audiences]

  If it hadn’t been for his laughter she wouldn’t have chosen him.

  He was the first man she’d noticed when her eyes made an initial subtle sweep through the lounge area. She’d intentionally chosen a small table next to the piano, pretending fascination with the fedora-wearing hipster slouched over the keys. As she took cautious sips of her skinny margarita, her upper body swayed in a slight, graceful tempo with the slow, bluesy tune. I’m just here enjoying the music, relaxing after a busy day. Don’t bother me. That was the body language she hoped she was portraying.

  She’d dismissed him almost immediately because he was good looking in a way that only made her feel more nervous and anxious than she already was. Seriously, he was devastatingly handsome—the kind of handsome that had practically every other woman in the lounge giving him increasingly more brazen come-hither smiles and glances; the kind of handsome that had the cocktail waitresses commiserating with one another in a corner as, one by one, they failed to capture his attention with their rolling hips and cherry-red lipstick.