The Halo Series Boxed Set

by Kimberly Knight

  Once they left, I saw a woman about my age across from me.

  “First day?” she asked when she saw me looking at her. She had all her hair.

  “Yeah.” I smiled, trying to hide how scared I was.

  “This is my second round. I have chemo after this and they’re running late. I hope I don’t miss it.”

  “What … Why do you have both?”

  “I have stage three colon cancer.”

  “I’m sorry.” I frowned.

  The waiting room was filled with women in hospital gowns, doing puzzles and talking like we were on someone’s porch having lemonade. I figured that most of them had cancer. It was heartbreaking. We were all fighters in our own way. They were fighting for their lives, and I was fighting to be pain free.

  “It’s my first day, too,” an older Indian woman leaned over to tell me.

  “How long do you have to go?”

  “Four weeks. You?”

  “Six.”

  Before we could talk about whether either one of us had cancer, I was called back to the radiation room.

  The room was cold and a huge machine sat in the middle. It looked like something you’d see on Star Trek; a giant C with a long tongue and wings. The tongue was where I lay with my arms above my head and my hands clenched to bars that stuck up.

  While I lay on the table, my gown opened so the technicians could see my dots. They placed six more dots and lined me up with lasers while my gown stayed open and my breasts were uncovered. I stared at the orange leaves that hung on tree branches with a blue sky in the background that were used instead of the typical light panel for fluorescent lights.

  The actually zapping only lasted a few seconds, but getting the bench in the correct places, took close to thirty minutes total. After I was done, they moved the bench out and I covered up my chest with the gown and left—only to return the next day and do that part all over again—for six weeks.

  I didn’t talk much on the way home. I tried to tell Easton everything, but I was exhausted—mentally and physically. He didn’t pry and knew I would eventually tell him everything.

  When we got home, I took a shower and crawled into bed. It was only four in the afternoon, but I needed a nap.

  I woke to Easton running his fingers along my side where my scars from my surgery were still healing. They were almost healed, the stitches were gone, but they were still a little sensitive to the touch. I had four total. One on my back, two on my right side and one under my right breast.

  “Hey.” I turned to face him.

  “It’s almost eight. I just wanted to see if you needed anything.”

  “Just some water.”

  He left to get me a glass of water and when he returned, he laid next to me, running his fingers through my hair. Easton knew I liked it when he did that—it calmed me and sometimes helped me fall asleep.

  “I didn’t get to rub lotion on your chest and back, yet,” he said with a smirk.

  Not wanting to burn my skin more than radiation was going to, I grabbed the lotion on the nightstand and handed it to him. He first applied it to my back and then I turned so he could do my chest. I could do it myself, but I knew he liked touching me—liked caring for me.

  “Want me to show you all of my tattooed dots?” I asked.

  “Tattooed dots?”

  “Yeah, they tattooed dots on me so they can line up the lasers to pinpoint the radiation on the exact spot each day.”

  As I pointed out all nine dots, he kissed each one. “Every time you look at these, I want you to remember how strong you are. You’re my Superwoman.”

  Watching Brooke go through radiation for six weeks made me truly believe that she was my Superwoman. She’d told me about the women she met, and the children she saw every day. I didn’t know how she made it through.

  Avery and I hired two new managers so I was able to go with Brooke every day. I cut back my hours to a few in the morning and a few in the afternoon until five o’clock. I didn’t mind that I had to travel back and forth; it was better than Boston.

  “You know this is going to make me look bad,” Avery said.

  “Not my fault. You should have already done it.”

  “I told you that I didn’t want to propose because she’ll think I’m doing it because she’s having my baby. Now, she’ll think I’m doing it because you’re doing it.”

  “Not my fault.” I took out the black velvet box from the locked drawer of my desk.

  “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  “Are you trying to talk me out of it?”

  “Of course not. I just want you to be sure. We know how your first marriage worked out.”

  “Avery. Two words. The one.”

  “All right, good luck.” He slapped my back.

  “I don’t need luck.” I laughed and shook my head.

  “Break a leg?”

  “I hope not.”

  “Fine. Go get the next Mrs. Crawford.”

  “Brooke Crawford. Has a nice ring to it.” I smiled.

  The night before, I’d soaked white roses in water that I’d squeezed yellow highlighter into. I had read that it would make them glow in black light and I thought it was appropriate since today was her last radiation appointment.

  As she took her afternoon nap, I grabbed the roses from my storage shed in the backyard and Cheyenne and I started to make my signature chicken carbonara for dinner and crème brûlée for dessert. Peanut knew I was proposing. I showed her the princess cut diamond in a halo setting.

  Cheyenne thought it was perfect. “It’s a princess diamond because Brooke is your princess and a halo setting because your bar is called Halo.”

  My daughter was a genius. I didn’t think of either one of those things when I picked the one and a half carat ring out. I just thought it was pretty and it reminded me of Brooke—now I knew why.

  “Okay, go close the curtains. Brooke should be waking up soon,” I said to Cheyenne.

  She went around the living room and kitchen, turning the blinds and then drawing the curtains closed. Not to be obvious, we sat in the living room, watching TV and waiting for my princess to wake up.

  I was anxious to say the least. My leg bounced up and down and Cheyenne told me a few times to stop moving the coffee table with my foot. What did she expect? I was about to ask my soul mate to marry me.

  Finally, as the sun started to set, Brooke walked in. “It smells good in here. Whatcha makin’?”

  “Cheyenne and I made chicken carbonara and crème brûlée since it’s a special occasion.”

  “It’s a special occasion?”

  “Yeah, no more radiation.” I grabbed her hands in mine then leaned down and kissed her.

  “Gross,” Cheyenne said under her breath, and Brooke and I laughed, our mouths still connected. “Let’s eat. I’m hungry,” she whined.

  We followed Cheyenne to the kitchen and after she’d made herself a bowl, I made Brooke and myself one.

  “Are these for me?” Brooke asked, looking at the roses.

  “Of course …”

  “Shouldn’t they be red?” she asked, cutting me off before I could explain why they were white. “I remember something about red meaning love,” she said, winking at Cheyenne.

  “These are special,” Cheyenne said.

  “They are?” Brooke asked.

  Cheyenne turned off the lights and I stood, holding a black light above them while they glowed.

  “Oh my God … How do they do that?”

  “Daddy did that. They’re your radiation flowers.”

  During the six weeks, we had teased her about glowing in the dark since she was going through radiation. I think Cheyenne really wanted her to start glowing.

  “I love them,” she said and kissed me.

  “You guys!” Cheyenne protested.

  “Hey, don’t you kiss boys, too?” Brooke asked.

  “You told her?” Cheyenne asked me.

  Fuck!

  “It’s ok
ay, Chey, it’s normal,” Brooke said.

  “Yeah, but I don’t want to see you two kiss …”

  We laughed and then all sat at the dining room table. I started to get nervous. Cheyenne was being impatient and Brooke—I wasn’t sure, but she was hungry. Cheyenne gave me a look and nudged her head towards Brooke. I nodded back and Cheyenne went to get the ring out of her room.

  I cleared my throat. “Remember when I told you that I loved you?” I asked, turning in my seat to face Brooke as she sat beside me.

  “Yeah.” She smiled.

  “Do you remember how I told you that my dad once told me that I would know who I was meant to be with when I couldn’t get her out of my head?”

  “Yeah …” She set her fork down. Cheyenne walked back in and sat down in her seat.

  “I know these last few months have been hard. They’ve been hard on all of us. When Avery told me that you had a tumor—I wanted him to be wrong. Since I first met you, you’ve consumed my every thought. My dad is always right. Don’t tell him that by the way.” Brooke smiled. “He said I would know the woman I was meant to spend the rest of my life with when she would consume my every thought and you do. I want to wake up every morning with you beside me until the day I die—not you, but me.

  “I never want to live another day without you in my life. There’s no other woman in this world who makes me feel the way you make me feel. You’ve come into my life and shown me how to be a man and you’ve made me a better father for Peanut. We were just living our lives, but you’ve brightened it. I love you. We love you,” I said, motioning between Cheyenne and myself.

  “I used to work long hours, barely having time for my own daughter, but now all I want to do is be home with my girls. Every day, I kick myself for not realizing how much of an idiot I was before you came into my life. Cheyenne and I have talked and she wants you in her life as much as I want you in mine. She wants a brother or sister, too.” I grinned.

  “I want to give you the family that you want. I want to give you the world, and I wanted to give you the biggest ring in the world, but the size of this ring doesn’t equal the size of my love. I love you so much … marry me.” I opened the box that Cheyenne passed me.

  Brooke wiped more of her tears from her cheek. “Yes, of course,” she said and wrapped her arms around me. I held her tight, knowing I would never stop loving her.

  Brooke & Easton’s story continues in Never Stop.

  But first read, keep reading for a sneak peek of Avery & Nicole’s story in The One!

  Dear Readers,

  I hope you’ve enjoyed Tattooed Dots. Because I hold a special place for this series in my heart and it’s inspired on actual events of my life, I’m uncertain of when the next books in the series will be released, but please subscribe to either my blog, newsletter or both to stay up-to-date so you won’t miss the release info.

  You can find the links on my website. You can also follow me on Facebook.

  Thank you again, and I hope these two have captured a place in your heart! You can really help me out a lot by leaving a review where you bought the book as well as Goodreads and Bookbub. Your love and support means everything to me and I cherish you all!

  First, I would like to thank my husband for all his patience these last few months. Writing a book and ignoring family to get it done is not ideal, but we made it through. Thank you for understanding. Also, you showed me how much you love me by taking care of me during my tumor ordeal and radiation. I love you, you know?

  To my mom, thank you for holding my hand when I went for my biopsy and my surgery. Nothing compares to the love of a mother, and I am so grateful to have you. I love you.

  Audrey Harte, thanks for always letting me bounce ideas off of you even when we disagree. I’m glad we are on this journey together. Each day we get closer to writing on that beach in Hawaii, but I’ll settle for our trips to The Cheesecake Factory for now. Also, thank you for checking up on me when I was in the hospital and always being there for me. You really have no idea how much I cherish our friendship. Thank you for always having my back. You know I have yours, too.

  Next, I want to thank each and every one of my fans who messaged me and sent good thoughts my way when they learned that I had a tumor. It meant so much to have that love from everyone. It was a hard few months, but having those encouraging words, helped me more than you will ever know.

  I would also like to thank my betas; Alma, Anessa, Brandi, Chauna, Danielle, Elizabeth, Evette, Kerry, Kristen, Renee, and Stacy. Thank you for taking the much needed hours and telling me your honest thoughts about TD. I loved working with all of you, and I hope that we can do it in the future.

  To all the bloggers that participated in my cover reveal, thank you! Without bloggers, I have no idea where I would be. You all take a chance on me and my books, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. I never thought I would be an author, especially one with a fan base, and I owe a lot to the bloggers out there.

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  Kimberly Knight is a USA Today Bestselling author who lives in the mountains near a lake in California with her loving husband, who is a great research assistant. Kimberly writes in a variety of genres including romantic suspense, contemporary romance, erotic romance, and paranormal romance. Her books will make you laugh, cry, swoon, and fall in love before she throws you curve balls you never see coming.

  When Kimberly isn’t writing, you can find her watching her favorite reality TV shows, binge-watching true crime documentaries, and going to San Francisco Giants games. She’s also a two-time desmoid tumor/cancer fighter, which has made her stronger and an inspiration to her fans.

  * * *

  www.authorkimberlyknight.com

  Here’s a sneak peek of Avery & Nicole’s story in

  The One!

  “What I really need right now is a double shot of any alcohol within reach,” I said, scolding myself out loud as I stood in front of my bathroom mirror.

  What was wrong with me?

  Did I need to wear a shirt that read: “I’m single!” on the front? Why was the dating world so fucking hard?

  I’d been seeing Jeff on and off for a few weeks, and today I found out that he’d had a girlfriend the whole time. Seriously, what the fuck? So I did what any single twenty-nine-year-old would do. I called my other single girlfriends and told them to meet me at the bar. It was Friday night and I knew the best way to forget about a guy was with the help of my buddies: Jack, Jameson, Jim, Jose, Morgan, and whatever other brand of alcohol caught my eye.

  I dressed in a short black skirt, plum sparkly tank top and the highest black fuck me heels I had that wouldn’t kill my feet. Well, at least until I could no longer feel my body because of all the alcohol I planned to consume at the bar. Tonight, it was all about dancing with my girls and getting free drinks from guys.

  Fuck guys!

  I was tired of falling for a guy only to have my heart broken. I was done. No more dating.

  Who was I kidding? What I was really tired of was being alone.

  As I put the finishing touches of my make-up on, and made sure that my straight, long blonde hair and bangs were perfect, a text buzzed my cell.

  Jenna:

  I left my condo, jumped in the waiting taxi, and headed toward The Bell in Hand. By the time I arrived, it was packed. I squeezed through all the sweaty bodies, walking towards the bar where I found Jenna and Kym.

  “You two started without me?” I asked, coming up behind them.

  They turned at the sound of my voice. “Jesus, it’s about time your ass got here. You have some catching up
to do,” Kym said.

  “Trust me, I plan on it.” I downed the shot of Fireball that Jenna handed me then tried to catch the bartender’s eye for another by holding up the empty shot glass.

  “Is Brooke coming?” Kym asked.

  “No, I didn’t invite her. You know how she is now. She only drinks one night a week, and tomorrow’s her birthday party so she doesn’t want to be hungover. I, of course, have no problem being hungover and trying to bowl at her bowling party. I suck anyway,” I said, shrugging and finally grabbing the bartender’s eye. I motioned for another round and he turned to grab the bottle of whiskey.

  “Sorry about Jeff,” Jenna said.

  “Thanks. At least I found out now and not months down the road. Plus, tomorrow, I can flirt with Brooke’s co-worker, Mike. I’ve wanted that fine piece of ass since Christmas.” The bartender poured the four shots for us and I handed him my card. “Keep it open,” I yelled over the thump of the music. He nodded and walked away.

  “Well, let’s drink until you forget what’s-his-name,” Kym said, downing the shot of Fireball.

  “That’s the plan.” The cinnamon whiskey burned my insides as it went through my belly. Damn that’s good shit!

  A guy got up and left his barstool next to us, so I swooped in, snagging it before a mob of people saw it. My feet were already hurting and it hadn’t even been fifteen minutes. I needed more to drink and fast.

  We ordered another round, my body heating up as the whiskey flowed through my veins. Before long, we’d be out on the dance floor, hoping to catch the eye of any man willing to buy us more drinks. After all, that was why we really came to the bar. Guys came to fuck. Women came to score free drinks. Okay, some women did end up fucking these guys, but they were idiots. You take the drink (always from the bartender, not from the guy himself…learned that one the hard way in my early twenties), bat your eyelashes, maybe dance with them, then go to the bathroom to freshen up for ten minutes. He’d move on to someone else, and you could start the cycle all over again with another victim … I mean guy.