Her eyes raced from his hands, to the photo album, to his face. She clicked the pen, and beneath the photo she wrote ‘YES!’ Tears now streaming down her cheeks, she looked up to see his eyes spilling over. “Yes,” she whispered, kissing him as he slipped the ring onto her finger. “Best friends. Partners in crime. Sharing everything. Always, forever.” She repeated his words back to him. “I love you.” He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight and kissing her. She pulled away long enough to say one last time, “Yes.”
THE END
Want more Daniel and Marienne? Read an excerpt from the sequel, Holding On, at the end of this book.
"I don't know if there is a 'talented writers gene' but if there is then Karen Stivali has it. If you want to read a book that will make you grin, laugh, love, forgive, understand, and lust, then I highly recommend Holding On."~Literati Literature Lovers 5 of 5 stars
Acknowledgments
There are countless people without whom I’d never have been able to complete this book. This is to acknowledge some extraordinary individuals who made it all possible. My undying gratitude to each and every one of you.
Annette Pratts, who was there from the very first word and never stopped cheering for me. None of this would have happened without you, and I mean that in a good way.
Karen Booth, for being my tireless critique partner and never letting me quit.
Joan Rosania, Melissa Gandy, Mike Byrne and Jeremy Anderson, for believing that I could do this, even when I didn’t.
Janelle Denison, for telling me “whatever you do, do not put this in a drawer.”
Carl Grimsman, for being a voice of reason when I had none left.
Katherine Mariaca, Kelley Amrein, Ed Bacher, Diane Badzinski, Nancy Foster, Trudy Gendron and Heather Stirnweis, for being the most encouraging, supportive group of writers in the world.
Dawne Beamer, Nora Driscoll and Jane Nilles for always having faith in me and keeping me sane.
Special thanks to Gary Keck for being the kind of teacher you never forget.
About Karen Stivali
Karen Stivali’s lifelong fascination with people has led her to careers ranging from hand-drawn animator, to party planner, to marriage and family counselor, but writing has always been her passion. Karen enjoys nothing more than following her characters on their journey toward love. Whether the couples are m/f or m/m, it’s guaranteed that Karen's novels are filled with food, friendship, love, and smoking hot sex—all the best things in life.
When Karen isn’t writing (and often when she is), she can be found on Twitter attempting witty banter and detailing the antics of her fruit-loving cat, BadKitteh. She loves to hear from readers (and other writers), so don't hesitate to contact/follow/like her!
Find Karen here:
@karenstivali
KarenStivaliAuthor
karenstivali.com
[email protected]
Also by Karen Stivali
Straight Contemporary Romance:
Marry Me
Holding On, the sequel to Meant to Be
Then, Again
Leave the Lights On
LGBTQ Romance:
The Moments in Time Series:
Moment of Impact
Moment of Truth
Moment of Clarity
Moment of Silence
Excerpt: Holding On
When you have everything you’ve ever dreamed of, the hard part is Holding On.
Chapter One
“What’s wrong?” Marienne asked, crawling into bed, loving that her husband, Daniel, was already there, waiting for her. He sat propped against the pillows, a book open in front of him. His dark hair dipped down almost to his eyes. She watched as he took his new reading glasses out of their case. A look of annoyance flickered across his face as he placed them on his nose.
“I can’t believe I need glasses now.” His British accent was always more prominent when he was bothered, and Marienne couldn’t help but smile. Ever since she’d met him, years ago, she’d loved the sound of his voice. She sat up and turned toward him, noting how the glasses accented his high cheek bones.
“What?” He furrowed his brow. “You think I look old and ridiculous?”
She giggled and his face scrunched further. “You’re only thirty.” She slid toward him. “And you don’t look at all ridiculous.”
A smile tugged at his lips. He peered at her from above the dark frames and closed his book.
She took it from his hands and placed it behind her. “In fact, I think they make you look kinda sexy.”
“You do, eh?” He reached his arm around her, drawing her closer. His long fingers pressed into her lower back.
“I do.”
“I love it when you say those words.” He ran his thumb along her hip.
Kiss me. As if he heard her thoughts, his mouth descended onto hers. He always managed to hold off until the moment when she couldn’t wait a second longer, then he’d give her sweet release. His velvety tongue coaxed her mouth open, though she needed no encouragement. She never tired of kissing him, and kissing was never enough. Her hands slipped beneath his shirt, along the ridges of his back. He rocked against her and she melted.
They’d been married for six months, the happiest six months of Daniel’s life. Except for the seven months prior to that when they were engaged. And the four years prior to that when she was his best friend. He still couldn’t believe it sometimes. That fate had allowed them to find one another, had brought them together and led them to such joy.
He moaned as her arms curled around him. He could never get over how warm she was, how soft and inviting. Her sweetness dissolved on his tongue, making him crave more. He braced one hand on the headboard to keep it from squeaking and waking the sleeping three-year-old in the next room.
He slipped between her legs, sighing as he brushed against her wetness. “Perhaps I should wear these glasses all the time.”
The vibration of her laughter trilled through him. “Perhaps you should.” She raised her hips beneath him and he sank into her. Her breath came in hot puffs against his neck. He inhaled the vanilla scent of her hair then kissed his way back to her lovely mouth.
Her ankles locked behind him and he felt her liquefying. He pulled back to look at her, eyes shut, lips parted, breath catching in her beautifully arched throat. He loved to watch her come.
“Daniel,” she gasped, pulsating around him. He’d never told her, but the sound of her calling his name was his favorite part. He slowed his pace, hoping to take her for round two. Marienne seemed to have other ideas, changing position, tilting her hips so he plunged even deeper. She quickened their rhythm, straining against him, her fingers clasping at his back and he was powerless against her. He pressed his lips together, trying not to groan too loudly, as he throbbed inside her.
Marienne snuggled alongside him. He stroked her arm, half asleep and wholly content.
“You like the glasses better now?” she whispered.
“Very much so.” He laughed. He’d forgotten he was still wearing them. “Though they’re a bit smudged.” He closed one eye, then the other, trying to see which lens was clearer.
“Here.” She took them off his face, opened her mouth and puffed her breath onto one lens.
“Well now I like them even better,” he said. “Though I’m a bit jealous.” He nuzzled her with his nose.
“Do you want these clean, or not?”
“Will it involve more of the puffing?”
“Yes.”
“Then by all means continue.”
She raised an eyebrow at him, feigning annoyance, then puffed again.
“Ooo, baby,” he said.
She shook her head as she polished the lenses with the edge of her tank top.
“A little to the left,” he said. That did it. She giggled.
“Here.” She placed them on his nose. “Better?”
“Much. But you’ve made me too tired to read.”
She s
watted at him but he caught her arm, pulling her closer. “I love you,” he said, kissing her, wanting more of the sweetness.
Daniel yawned and stretched. He could hear water running then the sound of the bathroom door opening. Before he opened his eyes he could see the sunlight streaming into the still darkened bedroom.
He felt Marienne sit down on the edge of the bed next to him and wondered why she was up so early. Neither of them were morning people, and it was Saturday. They usually let Ella be their alarm clock, and he had yet to hear her tapping at their door.
He reached his arm around Marienne’s waist, eyes still closed. He opened them to see her polishing his glasses again.
“Mmmmm.” He tightened his grip on her. “Good morning.” He kissed her leg.
“Good morning.” She leaned in and kissed him. “Do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
“I need you to read something.”
He was still groggy, but he placed the glasses on his face.
“I need to know if you see one line or two.”
One line or two? She handed him three plastic sticks. He blinked as he took them from her. Each stick had a clear plastic window displaying a series of lines. His mouth fell open. He looked up to find her staring at him, eyes shimmering. “Are you?” He wanted to hear her say it.
“Yes.” She nodded, her eyes brimming with tears.
He looked at the sticks then back at her as it sank in.
We’re having a baby.
He found his voice. “We’re having a baby.”
“Yes,” she said again.
He sat up and wound his arms around her, kissing her mouth, her cheeks, her hair. A baby. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “Are you okay?”
He ran his fingers through her hair, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. “I’m more than okay.” He kissed her again.
She grinned, her cheeks flushed.
Memories of the horrible morning sickness she’d had during her pregnancy with Ella flooded his mind. His hand went to her stomach. “How do you feel? Are you nauseated”
“Not yet,” she said. “And I think I’m pretty far along. When I was late I thought maybe…but I kept waiting to feel sick and when I didn’t I figured I was just skipping a month. That can happen the first several months after you go off the pill. Then I realized how late I was so I took the tests this morning.”
“And they’re accurate?” He held his breath wanting so badly for this to be a certainty.
“99%,” she said.
Close enough. His heart thrummed. He was about to ask another question when the familiar rapping came at the door.
“Come in, sweetie,” Marienne called.
Ella bounded into the room and landed on the bed with a flying leap. Daniel tucked the pregnancy tests beneath the covers.
“Can we make pancakes?” Ella asked, brushing her hair out of her eyes as she bobbed up and down.
“Yes,” Daniel answered, before Marienne could speak. “Let’s make a special breakfast for Mum today. Chocolate chip pancakes and Canadian bacon?” He studied Marienne’s expression, trying to assess if pregnancy had led to any cravings yet. Pregnancy. We’re having a baby.
“That sounds perfect,” she said. “But I can make them.”
“We’ll do it, right Ella?”
Ella nodded and scrambled off the bed. “Come on, Daddy. Let’s go.”
Daddy. She’d been calling him Daddy for months now and his heart still swelled each time she said the word. Her father, Frank, had been dead for nearly two years. Ella had been so young that now he was nothing but a faint memory and some photographs. Daniel was ‘Daddy’.
Daniel had adored Ella since before she was born, had been at Marienne’s side as her loyal friend throughout the pregnancy, had helped care for Ella after her birth. Frank was never a hands-on parent. He’d been too busy with his job and his mistress to care about what Marienne and Ella were doing.
Daniel had been only too happy to help. He’d always dreamed of having a family, having children. Back then he’d assumed that being a friend and caregiver to Ella was as close as he’d ever get to parenting. He was married to Justine at the time, and she had made it clear that motherhood was not something she ever wanted to experience. It was one of the many, many reasons they’d eventually divorced.
“Daddy, hurry,” Ella called from downstairs. “I’m starving.”
He kissed Marienne. “I love you.”
She held him tight. “I love you.”
He reached up and took off his reading glasses. “You know,” he said, placing them on the night stand. “I’m really, really liking these now.”
Daniel’s palms were sweating as he pulled into the parking lot at Central New Jersey Medical Center’s OB/GYN office. He’d opted to drive to work rather than rely on the train so he could head straight to the doctor’s office when he left NYU. He’d cancelled two afternoon student sessions to allow plenty of time for the commute back to Highland Park. Now he was forty minutes early. He took a deep breath and tried to steady his nerves.
Daniel hated doctors. When he was a child they made him think of being sick or needing shots, neither of which he liked. When he was a teenager he associated them with his mother falling ill, and growing sicker. It had even been a doctor who’d told a devastated sixteen-year-old Daniel that she had passed. Now he was going to meet Marienne’s doctor. A high risk pregnancy specialist, necessitated by Marienne’s having had placenta previa while carrying Ella.
His stomach tensed at the memories. Marienne had spent the latter part of her pregnancy on bed rest then one night had awoken bleeding. He could still remember running across his yard toward the flashing ambulance lights at her house, barefoot on the freezing cold January night, her screams echoing from inside the vehicle. She could have died. Ella could have died. But by some miracle they were both okay. The doctor at St. Peters who came out to the waiting room two hours later to inform Daniel and Frank that she and the baby were doing fine was the first doctor Daniel could ever recall liking. He hoped this new doctor today would also be likable. And competent.
He raked his hand through his hair and scanned the parking lot. No sign of Marienne’s car. Of course not. She was always on time, but she’d never get there that early. Not wanting to look too ridiculous sitting in the waiting room for half an hour he decided to wait in the car.
Marienne turned to the side and looked in the mirror. She lifted her shirt and ran her hand down her tummy. No bulge, yet. Though she did feel one inside. A tightness that wasn’t normally there—Daniel’s baby. Her heart flip-flopped from the thought. There was nothing she wanted more than to have a child with Daniel. He was already the best father she could imagine. The way he loved Ella, the way he cared for her and always had, proved that beyond any doubt. Daniel was made to be a parent. And a husband.
He’d only known about the pregnancy for four days and already he was hovering around Marienne in full protective mode. He insisted on coming to the doctor’s appointment with her.
“It’s not necessary.” She told him. “You’ll have to miss work. They only had appointments before five pm.”
“Then I’ll have to take some personal time. I want to be there with you.” His strong arms had wrapped around her, and any argument she’d been planning to make flew right out of her head. She wanted him there with her. She wanted him everywhere with her. And she was nervous about the appointment.
When she was pregnant with Ella she’d gone to every appointment alone. Frank never came along. She’d sit in the waiting room, worried about her previa and envious of all the women who were there with their husbands or sisters or girlfriends. Marienne had no one like that, at the time. She knew that even back then Daniel would have accompanied her. He was the best friend she’d ever had. But he was married—they both were—and it hadn’t seemed appropriate. She was grateful that this time was different. Now all she needed was for the doctor to reassure th
em that everything was okay with the baby. Our baby. She smiled as she got into her car.
Daniel was too fidgety to stay in the car a moment longer. He was certain he’d already given himself a bruise from the number of times he’d banged his knee on the steering column. He climbed out of the car and stretched his legs. His fingers wove through his hair repeatedly as he made his way to the building entrance.
The OB office was the first on the left, clearly marked with pink and blue balloons painted down the length of the door. He took a deep breath and went inside. The women in the waiting room all looked up as he entered. Two very pregnant women, one with a toddler clinging to her leg, the other knitting while her husband read a magazine, another young girl who was laughing with a woman he guessed was her mother, and two women who looked too much alike not to be sisters. He remembered Marienne talking about attending all her appointments alone and felt sad.
He knew Marienne hadn’t arrived yet, but he checked at the reception desk, just to be certain.
“Marienne Gardner?” he asked, rubbing his thumb along the edge of the counter.
The receptionist smiled. “She hasn’t checked in yet. You’re welcome to take a seat. I’m sure she’ll be here any minute.”
“Thanks.” Daniel said. He sat on the far side of the room, facing the door, so he could see as soon as Marienne arrived.
Marienne peered through the glass panel on the office door. She’d seen Daniel’s car in the parking lot and wondered how long he’d been waiting. She saw him as soon as she peeked inside—long legs, wide apart, one knee bobbing rapidly, fingers raking through his hair—he glanced at the doorway and saw her, his face brightening. She smiled as she opened the door.
Meant To Be (The Destiny Series Book 1) Page 33