by Serena Grey
She returns to bed.
I take a deep breath.
“The reason I was home early that day…” I take her hand and meet her gaze. “I wanted to talk to you, about San Francisco, about Ava, about the fact that I could see that I was losing you.”
“You weren’t…”
I shake my head. “You were here, physically, but emotionally, you were drifting away. I could feel it, and I knew it had something to do with Ava, her stabbing, how I reacted to it…”
“It doesn’t matter now,” she says gently. “I love you, more than anything. I don’t care about Ava now.”
“But at the time?”
She pulls in a shaky breath. “I was… I don’t know what I was feeling. I guess I thought she still meant too much to you. I thought that was why you wouldn’t get Evans locked up after he tried to hit you with his car, why you were so broken up when you heard about her stabbing… She told me, more than once, that you always came back to her, that I was only temporary. She’s known you far longer than I have, and she was so confident… I tried to ignore it, but watching you so devastated about her, it all came back.”
The revelation that Ava said something to her makes me realize how blind I’ve been. Of course Ava would not have kept her games to just me. She’d have tried to hit Rachel too.
I remember every event we attended where Ava showed up…the hotel opening, Aidan’s play, Rachel’s mood afterward…of course. I was so blind.
And Rachel suffered for my blindness.
I sigh. “She always came back, Rachel, after every divorce or high-profile breakup, and if I was single, as I usually was, I let her in, because she already knew, more than anyone else, that I didn’t want permanence—at least I didn’t before you.”
Rachel’s eyes mist with pain. “She made me think she was the great love of your life.”
I shake my head. “You’re the great love of my life, and I have a scar to prove it.”
Her smile is sad. “You’re already joking about it. It’s going to take a while for me.”
I take a deep breath. Slowly, I explain to her about my history with Ava, the shared pain that brought us together all those years ago, how I thought I deserved nothing better. Our relationship was never exclusive. She always left to gallivant with high-profile lovers, and then she’d come back, professing to miss me. I didn’t realize then she was trying to make me admit I loved her. She proposed, and I refused, because even though I didn’t think there was anyone else for me, a part of me refused to consider that kind of commitment. So, I chose to focus on my hotels. A week later, she was married.
“She thinks she broke your heart,” Rachel tells me when I finish.
“She told you that. Trust me, she knows it’s not true.” I’ve never given Ava any reason to believe I belonged to her, and I tell Rachel that.
“She made me feel like I was just someone temporary in your life, and she was much more than that to you.” Rachel sighs. “When she was hurt and you were so shaken…I was jealous and scared…and ashamed of my reaction. She was fighting for her life, and all I could think about was losing you.”
My darling angel.
I want to put my arms around her, but I make do with only one.
“You’re never losing me, Rachel.” I hold her gaze. “As for Ava, at the hospital, she said some things that made it clear I had to let her know, very plainly, we will never be more than friends again.”
She looks down at our hands, fingers entwined. I need her to believe me.
“You own me, Rachel, every part of me. Knowing you’re mine is what keeps me going. It’s what makes it all meaningful. Before I met you, I thought I liked being alone. I took pride in not needing anyone, but I need you, and I’d give up everything just for you to never doubt that again.”
“You don’t have to give up anything,” she whispers. “I love you, helplessly and completely.”
Hearing the words fills me with so much joy. It feels like my shoulder has healed miraculously.
“I’m exhausted,” I say with a smile. “Who knew intense declarations of love could be this tiring?”
She chuckles, but then her face clouds with worry.
“I need to tell you something,” she says.
I swallow my alarm. Whatever it is, I can take it, as long as I have her.
“What is it?”
She takes a deep breath.
“I’m…I’m pregnant.”
At first, I’m not sure I heard right.
She continues talking before I can reply. “I found out in Barbados, and I wanted to tell you, but when I called… Well, you know what happened when I called.”
I close my eyes. I knew something was wrong, and now I hate that I didn’t bother to coax it out of her. Instead, I got mad at her. I should have been soothing whatever anxiety she was feeling, and instead I accused her of overreacting.
And yet she still loves me.
I don’t deserve you, Rachel.
“When Evans…” She sighs. “I couldn’t stop thinking about how I didn’t tell you, how I’d never get a chance to.”
“Stop.” I won’t let her punish herself for this one. “I understand how you felt…I do.” There’s an ache in my chest as I continue. “You know now that everything I do—work, solving the problems that have come up in the last few weeks—is so I can get them out of the way and come home to you. Meeting with Ava, trying to find Evans—it was always about making sure he could never hurt you, because I’d rather die than let anyone hurt you.”
She nods. “I know.”
“I hate that you felt unsure of me, and I take the blame for that. You’ll never have cause to doubt me again.” I hold her gaze, imploring her with my eyes. “I promise. Everything I am, everything you want, I’ll give you, and if you let me, I’ll give everything I have, for you, for us, and for our child.”
She smiles through tears. “I only want you.”
“All of me,” I tell her. “You already have all of me.”
Epilogue
“Ohhh, that feels good!” Rachel moans, her eyes closed. Her hair is in a knot on top of her head, and soft tendrils frame her face. She looks unbelievably lovely, and she is, both inside and out.
I increase the pressure of my fingers and press down on the bottoms of her feet.
She sighs. “Don’t ever stop.”
“Okay.” I’m laughing. “I’ll massage your feet forever.”
Her eyes narrow in suspicion. “Are you making fun of me?”
“Never!”
She rubs at her stomach, which, at eight months and three weeks, is bigger than I ever thought possible. I’d never say that though.
“Just so you know, I can still kick your ass.”
“I know,” I admit.
“Really?”
“Hmm.”
She looks petulant. “Now you’re just humoring me.”
“Have I told you how lovely you look today?” I’m not lying. She looks lovely, lush and ripe, with curves everywhere.
She groans. “Stop flattering me.” She pulls her foot from my grip and rises to her feet, then stops and makes a sound of exhaustion.
I’m instantly by her side. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. I stood up too fast. I’m fine. I’m pregnant, not an invalid.”
“Okay.” I smile. “Can I get you something to eat?”
Her eyes light up, and she spends the next few minutes detailing everything she wants to eat and then changing her mind.
I listen patiently. I love taking care of her, especially now that in a few days, our lives will change forever.
“I thought Aidan was coming over.” she says suddenly, forgetting about the food. “Is he coming?”
“Yes, later.”
Her voice softens. “How is he?”
Hurt. Heartbroken. Enraged. Ever since Liz left the play and him, flying across the country to work on movie projects, he’s reverted almost to his lowest point. “He’s a little sore, but seeing you wil
l cheer him up, I’m sure.”
She laughs. “Because I look like a hippo.”
“Because he loves you and can’t wait to meet his nephew.” I put my arm around her. “And…you look like a sylph.”
“Liar.”
“Never.”
She grins then scowls. “You promised me food.”
I spring into action. “I’m on it.”
Esmeralda is in the kitchen, and with her help, I make up a platter for Rachel. She likes to nibble at a variety of things at the same time, and it amuses me to watch. When I return to the living room, she’s standing beside the sofa, a look of horror on her face.
I drop the platter. “What? What is it?”
Horror turns to wonder. She looks at me, eyes wide. “I think my water just broke.”
The next few hours are a blur. I get the bags and get her down to the car. She insists she’s fine, but I don’t let her hand out of mine.
At the hospital, her doctor is already waiting. I’ve prepared for this for months, but my nerves are shot as all the professionals do their jobs.
I make all the necessary calls, parents, Laurie, her brother Dylan, Aidan. Soon, the waiting room is full of family.
Breathe, Landon.
Inside the delivery room, I clean up and scrub up then wait, holding Rachel’s hand as the contractions come.
It’s an easy birth. The hours fly by, for me at least, and when they put my baby in my arms, I’m the one doing the crying.
“He’s beautiful,” I blubber. My emotions are a mess.
Forceful, ruthless, single-minded…
Cold, heartless, unfeeling…
Hotel magnate.
All that is washed away the moment I hold my son in my arms.
Landon Court…Dad.
Husband, lover, dad.
That’s who I am.
Rachel is looking at me, smiling through her exhaustion. “Let me see.”
I put him in her arms, and he makes a satisfied sound. She touches a finger to his tiny nose and her lips quirk. “He looks like you.”
I study the contented face. “I don’t know.”
“Hello, Preston,” she whispers, saying the name we chose a long time ago. It’s for my father, and for her family too. “Hello, Preston Foster Court.”
He squirms and yawns.
I chuckle. “I think he likes it.”
She meets my gaze and gives me an angelic smile. Even with the exhaustion in her eyes, she has never looked more beautiful.
“Yes,” she agrees. “I think he does.”
The End
Acknowledgments
It’s entirely possible that I would have procrastinated this book into oblivion were it not for the wonderful readers who never let me forget that I promised to write Landon’s story. Thank you for keeping me on my toes.
Also, thanks to Caitlin at Editing by C. Marie for picking out my grammar mistakes, and awesome proofreader Cassie Hess-Dean for making sure I missed nothing.
Thanks to my readers, without whom none of this would be possible.
And my husband, for his unending support.
♥♥♥
About Serena Grey
I’m obsessed with books and read whenever I can–romance, fantasy, mystery, history–anything I can lay my hands on. I grew up reading Danielle Steel, Nora Roberts and many other romance authors. These days, I read Whitney Garcia Williams, Laurelin Paige, E.L James and Sylvia Day, though you’re as likely to find me reading Brandon Sanderson and George R R Martin.
I’m an older millennial–made in 1985. I have a husband I love and a baby son I adore. I love wine, coffee with lots of cream, chocolate chip cookies, and my superpower is knowing how to live on the bright side of life.
To be the first to find out about my new releases,
sign up for my Mailing List at www.serenagrey.com/alerts
For more information, go to www.serenagrey.com
Books by Serena Grey
A Dangerous Man Series
Awakening: A Dangerous Man #1
Rebellion: A Dangerous Man #2
Claim: A Dangerous Man #3
Surrender: A Dangerous Man #4
Undeniable
Swanson Court Series
Drawn to You
The Hooker
Addicted to You
Lost in You
Landon
Wild Sexy Series
Wild Sexy Thing
Wild Sexy Fix
Wild Sexy Hurt
Wild Sexy Love
More Than Anything: A Christmas Romance
Find at www.serenagrey.com/books