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Random & Rare

Page 32

by Cat Porter


  I lunged at him, and he stumbled back two steps, his arms under my rear.

  “Jill’s pregnant. We’re having our baby.”

  His eyes flashed, and then he buried his face in my neck, lifting me higher in his embrace. There was victory in the tense squeeze of his arms around me. Humility and pure joy.

  All of it burning with gratitude.

  Even in this quiet, dusty town called Meager, in lives marked by slim offerings and harsh circumstances, there was still the opportunity for synchronicity, for the alignment of the stars in one’s favor, especially when graced by the power of one man’s love.

  Dig had loved me well, both me and Miller, and that love and care was a living blessing, here and now. It touched our lives still, and in the most beautiful way.

  For years, I had thought that love had ended in a blaze of regretfully hasty decisions, manly arrogance, hubris, but it hadn’t. It burned bright and reached out to me still. I could feel it now shimmering through my heart as that muscle pounded wildly in my chest. It was a raw thing, elemental and undiluted, flowing from the deepest part of me and showering me and Miller with brilliant shooting starlight across our night sky. Dig had given us the gift that the three of us had once thought, at one time or another, we never deserved and could never have.

  That piece of my heart that was Dig sang in my chest, bursting there.

  Thank you, Dig. Thank you. Rest, my love. Be at peace. It’s all good. So very good.

  Miller’s heartbeat raced through me as I pressed deeper against him, his breathing ragged.

  “Love you, baby.”

  Life’s random hits might have brought us pain, but they also gave us rare beauty, rare to lost souls like us. Like when a girl took a chance asking a group of bikers to save her sister at a keg party, like when a tired man decided at the last minute to stop for a quick drink at a bar on his way home, and he noticed a woman sitting alone, enjoying a glass of whiskey.

  “Love you, Grace.”

  Yes, rare beauty for souls like us.

  Dig

  ONCE, I LOVED.

  Once, I was loved, and I undid myself in her, in us.

  I am air, a current whispering over her skin, the once-in-a-while irregular rhythm of her heart. I am there in her smile, her tears, in her humility, her disappointments, her hopes, her breath.

  I have no explanation for it. I don’t know how this works, but that’s not important. What is important is that we are connected in some way—past borders, past geography, beyond flesh. We are passion and faith and hope that stretch and ripple across time. We are a flash, a slice, a crease through so many layers of experience all defining our reach, our imprint, our touch on each other.

  Now, grief, regret, and remorse have no place. They can’t take root any longer. Finally plucked from my spirit and hers, they’re weeds that have withered, drifted away like the dried grasses of our land. That fog of regret has lifted and waned in that infinite sky.

  I no longer drift.

  I feel that release.

  And I believe.

  Yes, once I loved, and I was loved; an honor I regard with pleasure and satisfaction, not yearning. It simply is—that one single precious, truly good moment, that instant in time of loving her with all my heart and soul.

  Once, I loved. I stumbled here and there, but I loved well.

  It was definitive, remarkable.

  My compass.

  And that love did not waste away on a broken branch or diminish with my passing over. It grew and bore fruit beyond me, beyond my understanding even, into something worthier than my petty longings, my needs, my wants, or twisted desires when I’d walked the earth and rode over it.

  It was once, yet I know now it will always be, always exist, this love. And that is the way it should be.

  They both know. They feel it, too.

  Extant. Grace would like that word.

  What was once a wild heartbeat,

  a falling tear,

  a deep sigh,

  an insistent touch,

  an angry thought,

  a delicious high,

  a wild laugh,

  a precious hope,

  a hand in mine.

  Once a whisper against skin

  sweeps into the wind

  and is no longer simply hers and mine,

  it grows and multiplies and enriches all those around it.

  It has survived random, chance acts of thoughtless brutality

  and brutal thoughtlessness.

  Not vaporized. Not destroyed.

  It’s proven us wrong after all.

  For there is no fear in the face of this.

  This is another sort of weapon. This is a wellspring.

  Here is significance. Here is rare worth.

  And it has set me free.

  It’s that strong, that bright, that true. Its vibrant colors will not fade in the harsh rays of the sun.

  LOCK & KEY

  WOLFSGATE

  CAT PORTER was born and raised in New York City, but also spent a few years in Texas and Europe along the way. As an introverted, only child, she had very big, but very secret dreams for herself. She graduated from college, was a struggling actress, an art gallery girl, special events planner, freelance writer, restaurant hostess, and had all sorts of other crazy jobs all hours of the day and night to help make those dreams come true. She has two children’s books traditionally published under her maiden name. She now lives in Athens, Greece with her husband and three children, and freaks out regularly and still daydreams way too much. She is addicted to reading, the History Channel, her iPad, her husband’s homemade red wine, really dark chocolate, and her Nespresso coffee machine, oh, and Jamie & Claire Fraser and the Vikings...never mind. Writing keeps her somewhat sane, extremely happy, and a productive member of society.

  Come Find Me Online

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/catporterauthor

  Website: www.catporter.eu

  Twitter: @catporter103

  TSŪ: www.tsu.co/CatPorterAuthor

  Instagram: instagram.com/catporter.author

  Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/catporter103

  Email: catporter103@gmail.com

  I COULD NOT HAVE MADE THIS DREAM COME TRUE without a great many wonderful, supportive and very smart people who deserve my big hugs and my sincerest thanks:

  To Jovana Shirley for your keen insights and for your patience, generosity and the magical sweep of your editing and formatting wands.

  Lots of hugs and kisses to Najla Qamber for yet another fantastic collaboration and for making my little ideas a breathtaking reality.

  To Billy Blue of Blue Bayer Design NYC for the use of your beautiful silver pistol ring featured on the cover and in my story and for your enthusiasm.

  To Needa whose trust and friendship mean so very much. This book could not have come to fruition the way I wanted it to without your non-sugarcoated input and generosity, and our mutual devotion to keeping it real, yeah? To Jenn who is my rock, my hand holder, my oracle, Sister of my Heart. I shudder to think where I would be without you and all the laughter girly good times. To Natalie whose ancient forever love continues to keep me centered and on track after lo all these many years. To Alison for cheering me on and for your organizational skills on my behalf an ocean away. To DiDi, my Java Girl, Ellen W., Tina, Lena, Lorelei, Andrea, Jordan, Penny, Sue B., Evan—endless rivers of love for your friendship, support, laughter, and pearls of wisdom.

  To my terrific beta readers Alison, Judy, Lena, Natalie, Needa, Rachel, Rose. Thank you for taking the time to help me with so much care and thoughtfulness. I appreciate each and every one of you and truly would be lost without you. A special thank you to Angela who after reading “Lock & Key” insisted on finding out if Grace ever got her baby (“I must know!”) and to the Goodreads member who remarked “I don’t want to read a book about a dead guy.” Both of you spurred me on in a direction I least expected for book 2 in this series, and I thank you for annoying me.
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  Huge thanks to Chas Jenkins and Rock Star PR for their support, guidance, and friendship while navigating the choppy seas.

  Big smooches to all the Facebook book groups and fellow authors and reader friends for their support and enthusiasm and soooo much laughter. I’ve made so many wonderful new friends from all over the world on this book journey, and it never ceases to amaze me. And a very special thanks to Angel Dust, Mary Orr, and MC Rocker Reader whose tireless work and devotion amaze me on a daily basis. (And Angel, our book trailer...heavy sigh, girlfriend!)

  To the wonderful women of Guilty Pleasures, The Book Bellas, EDGy Reviews, I Love Book Love, Platypire Reviews, Cruising Susan, Book Reading Gals, Book Babes Unite, Shayna Renee’s Spicy Reads, Perusing Princesses, and Totally Booked among many, many others whose support and insights I cherish. I thank you and all the book bloggers who took a chance on my books, shared their book love, and were even inspired to make their own teasers! The incredible, tireless work these wonderful women do on their blogs in the name of books and woman power mean so very much to me as an author and a reader and always will.

  To my husband for his support and most especially to my three children who put up with my crazy at all hours and thankfully laugh along with me at that crazy and give me hugs all the time and gentle reminders to feed them and pick them up from school. You’re my everything.

  To my readers, this is truly nothing without you. Thank you for letting my words whisper in your ears and in your hearts. You make it all the sweeter. I love hearing from you on Facebook, Twitter, Tsu, and Instagram. Visit my Pinterest page where I have dedicated boards to “Random & Rare” and “Lock & Key” that I hope you enjoy as much as I do pinning them into creation. (Can’t stop, that thing is addictive...) And please do leave a review wherever you may roam. All are very much appreciated and vital to a book’s journey out in the big world.

  xx, C

 

 

 


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