by Nia Arthurs
“You’re gracious.” He kisses me. “So kind.” Another kiss. “And far more than I deserve.”
I run my fingers through his hair as I look up at him. “What can I say? I have a good husband.”
“And I have an amazing wife.”
“Bride.” I wink. “We’re getting married again, so I’m technically your bride.”
“You’re everything.” He leans down and kisses me slowly.
I deepen the embrace and push him back so I can roll on top of him.
Hansley smirks as he settles his hands on my waist.
I lean down and whisper. “Now, how about we see if we can give my mother some grandkids?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He reaches up and kisses me with all the love in the world.
And I, Asia Simone Nicholas, kiss him back with all the love in my heart.
Epilogue
One year ago
Saint Phineas Hospital
Hospice Ward
Hey, Hansley. It’s Sharon.
Of course you already know that. Or maybe you don’t since I don't know if I’ll ever give this letter to you.
I just had another round of treatments today. It feels like I’m getting worse instead of better. But I’m not scared. Knowing when I’m going to die is freeing. A lot of people walk around having no idea if today will be their last. Ha. I do. One point for me.
I’m preparing to leave you and my knucklehead brother behind and it’s a little tough because you’re both going to cry and feel sorry for me. You know how much I hate pity.
I don’t want your last memories of me to be a corpse in a casket, so I’ve decided that I’m going to do something for you both.
I’ve already got an idea of what I’ll do with Brett, but for you, Hans… it’s a little harder. You’ve already got everything—loving parents. Wealth. Female adoration (although I have no idea what they see in your gorgeous face and ripped body. I mean, come on, is a hot billionaire really that cool?)
For that reason, I’m writing this letter first.
My gift to you is my confession.
I was twelve. It was a beautiful day and I went to the park to play hopscotch with you. You were talking to a strange woman and I hung back, making sure she wasn’t a bad person trying to steal you away.
I didn’t hear what she said at first, but I did hear when she started screaming. She hurled all these horrible words at you and it scared me. It scared me so much that I ran away instead of going to you and comforting you.
I regret that day so much because you needed me and I ran. And then later, you never brought it up again and I kept quiet too because I didn’t want to embarrass you.
Later, I found out that woman was your birth mother and my heart broke even more. How could she say such hateful things to her own son? I didn’t understand and I didn’t want to bring it up when you seemed to have moved on.
I’ve been keeping this secret for over a decade, but I don’t want to go to my grave without telling you this.
Hansley, you are not a mistake.
You are not a screw up.
You are nothing like the man who got your mother pregnant and then abandoned you both.
You’re a good man.
A good friend.
And you’re going to be an amazing father.
You’re a wise-cracking bastard when you want to be, but deep down, you can’t hide how caring, loving and sweet you are. Every time you drop everything to show up and help me, I see it and I think to myself ‘some woman is going to be extremely lucky to have you’.
I hope you find the happiness you deserve and the love that will change your life.
Think of me from time to time, okay? I’d like to imagine that your kids call me Auntie Sharon.
Love,
Your best friend.
Shar
***
Keep reading to find out how you can get an exclusive bonus scene featuring Hansley and Asia!
The Make It Marriage crew is growing ya’ll! Hansley and Asia had a lot to overcome to accept each other. They got married and then started dating. They battled doubts and pregnancy scares, but their love held true in the end. These two and their outrageous Vegas wedding will forever have a soft spot in my heart. I hope you feel the same! If you liked this book please leave a review now.
Read on for an excerpt of Be My Compass a friends-to-lovers romance and Book 9 in the Make It Marriage series! Coming soon!
Author’s Note
Digging deep into Asia’s thoughts about marriage was such a treat for me.
Through her jaded eyes, I was able to enter the world of Make It Marriage from a more grounded perspective while still romping inside a fun Vegas-wedding romance.
Asia constantly harped on the expectations of marriage—hard work, commitment, communication and self-restraint.
None of those words are sexy.
And none of those skills simply ‘happen’ when two people sign a marriage certificate. (Which is why it’s so important to test and observe one’s partner before getting married).
But the beauty of a couple who strives to honor each other and their marriage is something that is very possible and worth celebrating. And it’s something Asia and Hansley stumbled on in a little wedding chapel in Vegas.
Asia’s resistance to falling in love and losing control made her doubt and hesitate, but her walls crumpled in the face of Hansley’s persistence and adoration.
Hansley, too, grew and changed along the way. He knew all the right principles. He knew what a healthy marriage and relationship looked like, but it wasn’t until he met the right woman that he came to himself and made a change. He finally let go of his past and determined to be a better man and a better husband than his birth-father.
This couple was such a joy to write and I hope you enjoyed their journey, even if they did things a little out of the usual order.
For access to Hansley and Asia’s exclusive bonus scene (and future sneak peeks, cover reveals and book deals from me), sign up to my newsletter here.
Until the next whirlwind BWWM Romance.
~ Nia
Be My Compass
SNEAK PEEK
Sneak Peek! Be My Compass Chapter One
Kastle
My cell roars with The Lion King’s haunting chorus.
Be Prepared.
It’s the anthem of Scar, the villainous uncle and back-stabbing brother to Mufasa.
The ringtone my best friend set for my mother.
The song blares into my office. A pounding refrain. Eerie words blurring together.
I’m not sure where I am in the chorus. The beginning? The middle? The end?
Doesn’t matter.
The melody expands, pushing at the full-length glass windows. Crawling over my carpet. Stabbing the armor that covers my heart.
It doesn’t touch the bruises.
Doesn’t scratch the scars.
Not when I’m so numb.
Liar.
Okay. Fine.
I still feel it.
I feel everything.
My eyes stare at the screen that’s lit up.
Mom.
This time is going to be a better. She’s going to ask about my day. How my plants are doing. How I’m doing.
It’s not a request to pull on the monkey suit. To dance and clap on command.
We’ve outgrown this.
I inhale. Fill up my lungs. Set my coffee mug on the desk next to my laptop.
A moment of quiet descends. It’s swift. Sharp. Like a guillotine over a severed neck.
The phone goes dark.
Silence swiftly fills the room until there’s nothing but my own self-loathing.
Nothing but my shaking breaths.
Inhale. Exhale.
I can breathe.
I can move past this moment.
Inhale. Exhale.
My phone lights up and I choke on a breath.
Scar gleefully belts out his warning.
He’s got his reasons for wanting to take over the Pride Lands.
He knows who he is.
Whereas I—
Hell, I’m not doing this. Not today.
I’m twenty freaking four. Past time for me to get over this anxiety.
I slide my palms against my pants. They’re tailored. Italian. Expensive. Good for commanding the attention of a boardroom filled with stodgy businessmen who don’t take me seriously. Crap at resisting moisture. These clothes weren’t made for people who sweat.
The hall outside is dark. The entire floor is dark. My assistant is at home, or out with her friends, or enjoying dinner with her family. The other employees are living their lives.
At least they have one.
I get up with the cell phone.
It’s four steps to the window.
To the expansive city lights that unfurl before me, like the world got turned upside down and now the stars are dangling from the tops of towering buildings. I want the view to suck me in. Want to blur with the stars.
But there’s Scar in my ear.
Telling me to Be Prepared.
I answer the call. “Mom.”
“Kastle.” Her tone bristles with annoyance.
A lump of unsteadiness clogs my throat. Her voice is sharp. It tears at the tattered threads keeping me together.
Which is stupid.
She’s my mother.
I owe her everything.
Yeah, it wasn’t perfect growing up. But I had a roof over my head. Food on the table. Every amenity a kid could want. It was enough. Could have been worse.
I tell myself that over and over.
Could have been worse.
At the tender age of five, I got plucked out of an orphanage in China and dumped into the lap of luxury. Moving, breathing, jumping when my parents gave the cue came with the territory. I was a puppet on strings, but at least they were luxurious strings. Italian. Expensive.
Could have been worse.
Yeah. It could have.
I suck in a deep breath. “Everything good?”
It’s sad that I don’t know the answer to that. My mother’s wellbeing shouldn’t be a mystery to me. We don’t talk. At least, not about important things. Not since I moved out to go to college.
“Yes. You?”
“Fine.” It’s not a lie. I’m okay with my origins. I’m okay being that famous adopted kid. I’m living just fine like this. I don’t need concern. Pity. Understanding.
Not that Mom is offering any.
"The charity auction,” Mom says.
Bingo.
I swallow hard. Try to form a response in my head when there’s nothing but dread swirling in there.
“You need to come with me.” Her voice is firm. Like I’m still five. Still that shaking, terrified orphan with the big black eyes and the lisp.
My phone vibrates. I pull it from my ear and check the screen. There’s a text from Kaelyn. Something about her parents. Or her dance class. Or her expansive Disney DVD collection that I’m always teasing her about.
Just the sight of her name eases the knot in my chest. Makes everything feel warm. Light. Free.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t?” Her words are harder. Not soft. Not sweet. She doesn’t really care.
She really doesn’t expect me to resist.
“I’m busy,” I say.
“Too busy for your mother?”
There it is. The hint of a shriek. The touch of a whine. The after everything I’ve done for you, can’t you do this one thing for me tone. That’s the mom I know.
I rub my forehead. “I’ve got an asset transfer to work on.”
“Show up for one hour. Take some pictures with me.” Her tone becomes cajoling as she switches the subject. “How’s Kaelyn doing?”
“Mom—”
“It still amazes me that you two are friends. You couldn’t be more different.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing.” Mom laughs.
It sounds fake. Hollow.
“Invite her to come with you,” Mom says. “We can go shopping together. I can turn her into my little doll.” She gasps in excitement. “I’ll be her fairy god-mother.”
I almost snort. Mom nodding to Disney’s Cinderella to get her point across would have sent Kaelyn into a tailspin. They’ve never gotten along and Kaelyn is convinced that Mom’s secretly evil.
Thus the ringtone.
“There’s a new designer working with the agency. He’d make something dashing to go with her dark brown skin. In a few years, that dress will be worth millions.”
It’s so like Mom to think she can solve everything with money. As if cash can make up for sincerity, for genuine love, for trauma.
“Emphasize that it’s designer. Something she’d never lay eyes on without me.”
My eyes narrow when I hear the insult in her words. I don’t tolerate nonsense. Not when its aimed at Kaelyn. “She can buy her own dress, Mom.”
It’s not like Kaelyn’s family is hurting for cash. They’re doing alright with their lumber business. And Kaelyn’s never cared about money. It’s one of the reasons we became friends.
Mom breezes over my words as if she didn’t hear them. “Oh! She’ll look fabulous! Although,” thoughtfulness drops into her voice, “I don’t know if I should let Kaelyn loose at that banquet. Have you seen her posts lately? So aggressive.”
“She’s passionate about black history.”
“She’s fishing for trouble. And there are many people who don’t agree. After everything she’s been through…no. I won’t bring that up. But I think she should be careful.”
The hell?
“I should take her under my wing,” Mom adds. “Men don’t like women who are so pushy.”
“That’s not true.”
Hell, that’s the opposite of true. Kaelyn’s intelligence and passion for history is freaking sexy. Like yesterday, when she talked my ear off about some African empress she’d discovered.
Her black eyes sparkled.
Her maroon lips curled.
Her laughter danced over the air like magic.
My pants start to tighten.
Damn.
My thoughts about Kaelyn have been getting out of hand lately. My body doesn’t give a damn that she’s my best friend. That there’s no way in hell I’m going there with her.
It only wants her dangerous curves, her thick thighs, her lush lips.
Hell, the thought of those lips on my—
“She’s been single for years now, Kastle.”
The fantasy runs away.
Feels like a bucket of cold water.
But it’s good. It’s what I need right now. I squeeze my eyes shut. Shove away the mental images of my best friend on her knees.
“So?” I ask.
“So?”
So? Why the hell does it matter if Kaelyn hasn’t had a boyfriend in years? She’s got her job and her friends and me. She has enough. She doesn’t need some jerk playing with her heart and breaking it.
She’s better off single.
“Mom, enough about Kaelyn.”
“But—”
“She’s busy that night.”
“I’ll talk to her then.”
“She’s busy,” I say in a firm tone.
Mom pauses. Seems to gather herself. “Fine. But you’re coming right? Even if she isn’t?”
I grit my teeth. “Sure.”
“Amazing, Kastle. I knew you’d come around.” Her voice is victorious.
I can see her grinning. I can hear her thinking he’s doing exactly what I want. I’m so glad we bought him. So glad.
No.
I’m not letting those thoughts into my head.
No freaking way.
I’m not a product.
I’m not a trophy.
I’m going to this stupid auction because she’s my mother. And I love her. And I want to make her happy because she chose me out of the hund
reds of little orphans in that old building all the way across the world.
“I got work I need to finish, ma.” I wrench my tie down. “I’ll talk to you later.” I hang up on her and immediately grab my keys.
That suffocating feeling is crawling over me again. It’s sticking to my skin. Curling around my spine. Kaelyn’s the only one who can wash it off.
I leave the cold, empty office behind and run after the only one who can give me warmth.
***
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More books about strong yet vulnerable black women and the diverse men who love them are coming soon.
Also by Nia Arthurs
Caribbean Crush Series
His Exception
Her Deception
The Complication
Grudging Hearts Series
Forever Loving You
Forever Craving You
Forever Claiming You
Make It Marriage Series
Be My Always
Be My Forever
Be My Darling
Be My Lady (A Make It Marriage Short)
Be My Light
Be My Spark
Be My Wife
Be My Hope
more coming in 2020
The Token Black Friend Series
Trapped In You
Caught In You
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