by Amelia Wilde
I hand off my jacket to follow the butler back through to the dining room.
The room is narrow but long, and to say it was lit with mood lighting would be an understatement. A rich, warm glow casts over the tables all neatly laid with white linen cloths. There are only about twenty tables in the entire place, and I walk past almost all of them on my way to meet Beck.
He’s seated in the back, in a little alcove that makes it seem like this is our own private restaurant.
The sight of him takes my breath away.
He stands when he sees me, revealing all of his outfit, which is by far the absolute nicest thing I’ve ever seen him wear since the first day I met him. It’s a dark suit, perfectly sized to his muscular body, one trendy button in the front. His white shirt frames a muted silver tie, and as we come even with the table, the host stepping aside to let me get closer, I have to snap my mouth shut because it’s just hanging open like I’ve seen an extremely handsome ghost.
“Did you get a haircut?”
The host smiles and bows out as Beck laughs, taking me into his arms for a hug. He kisses my hair, then gestures to the table, which has been set for two. A small bouquet is on the edge next to the wall. It looks like solid roses, all in a deep red color, and they’re tied with a silver ribbon.
“Did you bring me flowers?”
Beck laughs again and takes the seat across from me. “Yes, to both the haircut and the flowers.”
I lean across the table, cutting my eyes to scan the restaurant. “You can tell me.”
“Tell me what?”
“If you’ve been abducted by…alien life forms, and you’re really one of them.”
He laughs again, then reaches across the table for my hand. I can hardly breathe, he’s so damn handsome, and for the first time he seems totally at ease. Which is weird, because fancy dinners out have never been our thing. He’s never seemed the least bit interested in this kind of outing, and I never cared.
But this? This is something else.
The waiter appears at the side of the table, and in a hushed voice, as if he doesn’t want to interrupt us, gives us an overview of the specials and takes our orders. I’m feeling festive, so I order a glass of moscato. Beck shocks me again by ordering red wine.
“You like wine?”
“I like it when I’m having steak. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to pair red wine with?”
“I have no idea.” Now I’m grinning like an idiot. I thought I knew everything there was to know about Beckett Taylor. Turns out there are things to learn every day. It makes me laugh out loud, I’m so damn delighted.
“So,” he says, looking into my eyes. “How was your day at work?”
“Torture.”
He frowns. “Really?”
“No, it wasn’t that bad. I just wanted to be…to be with you.”
“This morning wasn’t enough?”
“This morning was amazing. But no. Not nearly enough.” My heart breaks a little at the thought that he’ll probably be going back to Lockton soon. He can’t stay here indefinitely. He’s got a house up there, and he could find another job. Maybe even for the Lockton Daily, if he got some samples together in a portfolio. That’s one thing I still don’t know for sure—if he even wants to use his journalism degree, or if he’s going to start over at one of the other plants near his home.
“Why are you frowning?” His voice is low and sexy, and it’s hard to frown when I hear it.
“I was just thinking about how much I’m going to miss you when you go back home.”
Beck beams at me across the table in silence, and it goes on for so long that I realize I must be missing something.
“Okay,” he says, leaning forward and reaching for my hand again. “Was there anything else you wanted to get off your chest? I know we used most of our discussion time this morning for…other activities. And it was damn awesome. But…was there anything else?”
“Just one thing. I don’t know if…” I look into his eyes, and my entire body turns into liquid heat. “I don’t know if I’ve said this recently, but…” Then I shake my head. “This sounds stupid.”
“Whatever it is, it’s not stupid.”
Color floods my cheeks, and I open my mouth, but no words come out. I swallow hard and smile at him, and then I try again. Still, nothing.
“Here. I’ll go first. Samantha Kennedy, I love you.”
Now my entire body is incandescent with joy. “Those are just the words I was looking for.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Beckett
“I love you, Beck.” Sam’s voice is just above a whisper, but her radiant smile speaks louder than any words. When she’s finished saying them, she bites her lip, shaking her shoulders a little bit. I don’t even think she knows she’s doing it, so I don’t say anything. I don’t want to steal even the slightest bit of her joy.
I clear my throat. This is the part that I’m not completely sure she’s going to like. She might think we should move slower, after how things played out in Lockton. She might want time to get used to each other again. On the other hand, she did tell me seconds ago that she’s really going to miss me when I leave, so…
It’s now or never.
“I have some more words you might be interested in.”
Her blue eyes go a little wider, dancing in the candlelight. “I’m definitely interested. So, so, so interested.”
I take her other hand in mine, too, and I don’t give a damn that this is probably the most clichéd thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. That might be true, but it’s also the right thing.
I don’t know where to start, so I start with the biggest thing.
“I’m not going back to Lockton.”
Sam blinks at me, and then her gorgeous lips part. “You’re—what?”
That might have been a little too strong for a start. “If you want…I’d like to stay here, in Arbor Springs. I don’t want to go back to Lockton. I’m done with Lockton.” That’s not quite right, either. “I’m done being away from you. If that’s something you want.”
She’s smiling so brightly that I know it’s a yes, but I want to hear it from her before I let myself really celebrate. “But—how are you going to do that? Move down here, I mean. Won’t you need to find a job first? And sell your house?”
I want to send Martin Barnes a fucking bouquet right now, too. In fact, maybe I’ll bring one in on Monday, because I can see the spark of worry behind Sam’s joy. She doesn’t want me to do anything reckless, which is funny, because that’s all I’ve been doing since I left her. And leaving her was the most reckless thing of all. “Selling the house—I can do that from here. And about a job…”
Now her eyebrows shoot even closer to her hairline. “You do not have a job already. Tell me you don’t have a job already.”
“I have a job already.”
“What?” She practically shrieks the word and has to catch it behind her hand, which she slips from underneath mine. Then, her face scarlet, she cranes her neck to see if anyone in the restaurant is looking. They’re not. “What?” The second time, it’s more of a whisper-shriek. “How do you have a job? You just showed up here this morning!”
“Last night, really.”
She rolls her eyes, then looks at me again in disbelief. “How did you pull that off, Beck?” Then her brow furrows. “Did you apply to one of the manufacturing places here?” Sam looks down at the table, and I can practically see her mind working, trying to remember if there is a manufacturing plant close enough to Arbor Springs for me to live here and work here. I can tell she’s not coming up with any answers that she likes.
“It’s not that kind of job.”
She grabs both of my hands again. “What kind of job is it? If you keep me in suspense any longer, I think I’ll die.”
“Don’t die. I have a job at the Midwest Daily.”
Her mouth really drops open this time. “You’re not serious.”
“I’m dea
d serious.”
“How. How? How?”
“It was a process.”
“How did you do it?” She's not going to let me off the hook.
“I called every place I could think of that had anything to do with media and journalism, and I talked my way into some same-day interviews. At the last one, they liked me enough to give me a shot at one of the entry-level jobs. I start on Monday.”
Sam laughs out loud, covering her mouth with her hands. “Oh, my God. You thought of everything, didn’t you?”
“Almost.”
“Stay with me.”
“How’d you know that was the last thing?”
Now Sam gets up from her seat and comes around to my side of the table. She wraps her arms around my neck and presses her lips against mine. The second they touch, I’m a live wire. I breathe her in, the fresh, clean, bubble bath scent, and she drops into my lap, kissing me even harder. It goes on so long that we have to be interrupted by waiter, but I don’t give a fuck.
Finally, she breaks away, breathless, and hugs me to her again, my hands gripping her waist.
“Stay with me, and don’t ever leave,” she whispers into my ear, and her breath against my skin is enough to drive me crazy with need for her.
“I never will.”
“I love you.”
“I love you more than the world.”
There’s the gentlest clearing of a throat somewhere to my left, and Sam rises from my lap gracefully, like a queen, like she hasn’t been kissing me with a passion that demands a closed door right here in this restaurant. She bends to kiss my cheek, and then, giving the waiter a smile that’s so bright I think I see him blush, she steps around the table and takes her seat again.
Then she beams over at the waiter, who holds a gleaming silver tray in his hands. “I’m so excited,” she says to him, and he steps up to the table, not meeting my eyes.
“Are you celebrating something tonight?”
“Yes,” she says, and her blue eyes meet mine, and they’re the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen, the most beautiful sight I ever will see, and I’ll move a thousand times for her, if that’s what she wants. I’ll sell a thousand of my houses for her. I’ll drive across the country, I’ll cross oceans. It doesn’t matter, as long as I can be by her side from now until the last breath I take. “We’re starting a new life together.”
“That’s wonderful,” murmurs the waiter, sliding my plate in front of me. I can’t take my eyes off Sam.
Her smile gets a little wider then, a little brighter, a little more playful, and my heart almost breaks with how damn wonderful it is. “It’s the best thing that’s ever happened.”
It really is.
Epilogue
Samantha, seven months later
The tech presses the ultrasound wand against my belly, a firm but gentle pressure, and I can’t take my eyes off the screen. I have to keep reminding myself not to hold my breath. Breathe in. Breathe out. Everything’s great.
My heart pounds at every one of these appointments, but this is the big one—this is the twenty-week ultrasound. This is where we find out if we’re having a son or a daughter, and I’m a nervous wreck, while simultaneously feeling giddy with excitement.
I’ve never had a twenty-week ultrasound before.
The first baby—I’ll never forget that baby, even though it all ended too soon—didn’t make it past eleven weeks.
Beck squeezes my hand, and I tear my eyes away from the screen to look at him. His green eyes are shining in the dimmed lights of the ultrasound room, but I have to wonder if he’s acting so confident so that I don’t fall apart. I’d be lying if I said that I’d been cool as a cucumber for this entire pregnancy.
Which, by the way, was a bit of a surprise. He’d only been in Arbor Springs two months when I found out I was pregnant. I’ve never been so scared to share news in my life, and his face went white when I told him that we needed to talk. In retrospect, that might not have been the best choice of words.
But when he finally realized what I was saying, he looked so happy that I thought he might run around the apartment complex and just burn himself out from the joy.
“Gorgeous spine,” the ultrasound tech says, and I breathe in, breathe out.
She swoops the wand over and back again, and then zeroes in on something I can’t quite make out on the screen. I don’t know what I’m looking at, and I glance at Beck. His eyes are glued to the machine.
The ultrasound tech smiles at both of us, then looks at me. “Are you ready?”
I know what she’s asking. “Yes!” I say it so loud that everyone bursts into laughter, and she has to readjust the wand, centering in on the image again.
“This right here,” she says, pointing to something on the screen, “means that you’re having a little girl!”
Beck gasps, and when I look at him, I see through my own misty eyes that tears are streaming down his cheeks. “Damn,” he says. “Damn.”
“Congratulations!” I don’t hear anything else she says after that, because I’m so swept away by the sight of him. God, I’m in love. With both of them.
In a happy fog, I help wipe the goo off my belly, pull down my shirt, and take the CD of images.
“Wait,” Beck says, before she can usher us toward the door. “Wait.”
When I turn toward him, he’s down on one knee, right there on the floor of the ultrasound room, and the tech claps her hands together.
“I wanted it to be a special moment,” he says, and another tear falls down his cheek. “I can’t think of a more special moment than this.” His hands tremble a little as he pulls a small velvet box from his pocket. “Sam Kennedy, I love you…I love you. Will you marry me?”
“Yes!” I cry. “Yes!”
Beck slips a ring on my finger—a band of white gold framed in diamonds, a perfect fit—and sweeps me into his arms. That’s how we leave the ultrasound room, exiting out into the bright hallway, out into the radiant light shining on the rest of our lives, together, just how we’ve always belonged.
There’s more where that came from…
Don’t miss the rest of the Second Chances series!
Never His
Never His is the story of Brett Miller, a pilot fresh out of the air force and back in Lockton. Will he finally make it work with Addison, the one that got away? Find out today!
Only His
Only His follows Crosby King, Brett’s friend and fellow builder. Lacey O’Collins has always been too good for him, but now that she’s back in town, all bets are off…
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Dirty Rich
A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance
Chapter One
Cate
Carl swings at me, a vicious right hook, and my body moves before my brain has time to think hook, twisting, ducking, legs bending in a half-squat so I can pop up on the other side of the motion. Head cocked, I keep my eyes nailed to his hands even as I rise up on the balls of my feet, ready to make the next move.
He’s no amateur.
Neither am I.
Sweat drips from my hairline, and a lock of dark hair has fallen across my vision. I dismiss it.
Light on his feet, Carl steps out of my range but I’m right there with him, pressing in close. Closer. I go for his gut but barely connect, the force of the blow mostly meeting the air where his muscles used to be.
Guard up, I spring back a few feet, opening the distance between us. My heart hammers in my chest but I keep my breathing measured. Don’t give anything away. Don
’t give anything away.
“Had enough yet?” Carl calls, his voice echoing against the bare walls. There’s nothing plush to cushion his voice.
I let out a barking laugh. “Fuck off.”
He grins. His cut muscles flex under a sheen of moisture and his tank top is dark in patches. “I’ll give you one last chance.”
“You’re too kind.” Even as I say it I’m rushing back in, adrenaline spiking through my system all the way to the tips of my fingers.
With a tiny shift of my weight I lead Carl on for a fraction of a second, a head fake that gives me just enough time for an uppercut followed closely by a left hook that barrels toward the side of his face. He takes the full brunt of the uppercut but at the last moment gets a hand around to block the hook, the crack of his dismissal ringing back at me.
I’m not done. I assess the risk and drop my guard to go at him with my other hand, everything I have, last-ditch effort. Laser focus on every move he makes, every shift, every shuffle, lungs screaming. He’s batting away some of it but he can’t catch all of it. I’m on another level, relentless, unstoppable. His exhales get harder, harder, and I press what little advantage I have, the fierceness in the pit of my stomach, the drive that keeps me up at night channeled into every swing of my fists, every tiny step that advances me closer to Carl, closer in, closer still. I’m going to back him into a corner, no matter that he has six inches and fifty pounds on me, I’m going to—
The alarm on my phone rings loud, blaring, the sound ricocheting off the walls and bouncing back into my ears, jolting me out of the moment. I take two steps back, dropping my guard, all the tension and fire going out of me.