Dan grins at me and then he sobers up again, “You’re sure you’re okay? Is there anything I can do for you?”
“I don’t know. I guess help Chris get out of work early today?”
He laughs, “I can certainly do that. If you need anything, call me.”
“I will. I promise.”
He hugs me again, and he heads to where Chris is talking to the officers, to alleviate some of the questions and give Chris some breathing space, and maybe let us head home earlier. I’m so lucky to have the family that I do. I’m so lucky to have brave people willing to stand up for me and rescue me - whether from a boring day, a dull meal, or the mafia itself. I still can’t believe the mob was involved. That definitely sounds like a book.
Chris shakes the hands of the FBI officers. His back is straight and perfect. He shows no fear, only confidence. I watch him walk back towards me. His eyes soften when he looks at me. I stand.
“Are you ready to go home?” he asks.
“I am,” I reach up and I kiss his lips. “Thank you so much. I love you.”
“I love you,” he repeats.
An officer walks over, interrupting us, “Excuse me, we’re told this can be released right away; we found it in the back of the car. Is this yours, ma’am?” It’s the watch for Chris. I blush as I take it.
“Y-yes. It is mine. Sort of.” I glance at Chris, who looks at me suspiciously. I wink at him, before turning back to the officer. “Thank you so much. This means a lot to me.”
“Of course, ma’am,” he nods and steps away as we walk back towards the car.
“We can go home now?”
“Oh yes,” Chris says. “It’s time for all of us go home.”
I hear relief in his voice. Whatever shadows have been stalking us for the past couple of months are finally gone and Chris can breathe once more.
After answering all of Amanda’s questions over and over again, and promising to call her the next day for a coffee date, Chris and I are finally alone. Jane is sleeping soundly, tuckered out from her play date with Auntie Amanda, which had gone perfectly fine, of course.
I’d been so worried about Jane that I hadn’t even considered that I should be worried about myself or Chris. Poor Jane, almost made an orphan so young. I shake my head. It still feels so surreal. Now I’m picturing another timeline, one where Jane is growing up, not just without Chris but without either of us.
In that timeline, she has no parents, but she still has family. Jane has auntie Amanda, who comes by every day to make her laugh, and gives her make-up tips when she’s old enough, and talks to her about boys… and she has uncle Dan, who is overly-protective of her, and serves as a great father figure as she learns to navigate the world.
My family is bigger than ever before, but it’s still just as solid as it used to be. I feel peace, knowing that my child would have been okay without us, but I’m still glad we’re here.
“What was that the officer gave you?” Chris asks, curiosity getting the better of him. “And why was it there at all? Did you drop it?”
“I did,” I confess. “I was thinking I’d seed evidence in case I was murdered, so it could be linked back to me.”
“Clever,” he raises an eyebrow, “but how would we link a watch that I’ve never seen before to you?”
“Oh,” I flush red. “I should probably make clear that this is a gift. I wanted to get you something special so that you can think of us. I thought that a nice watch might do the trick.”
“That’s very thoughtful,” he says, his eyes softening, “but you didn’t have to put yourself in danger for me.”
“I know. In my defense, I didn’t actually realize I was putting myself in danger. Besides, no peeking, I’m going to save it for a non-kidnapping day, ok?”
He nods slowly and looks down.
“Chris,” I put my hand on his. “You’ll know that I’ll never ask you to betray secrets that you must keep. But scary chapter appears to be coming to an end. If you want to trust me with the full story of what just happened, please do. If you decide that you can’t, I understand that too. I won’t ever ask you to choose between my trust and your professionalism as a lawyer, I promise that.”
He looks surprised, “You mean, Miss Budding Mystery Writer isn’t interested in hearing this entire giant case against the mob that almost led to my untimely death?”
I stare at him and laugh, “Of course I’m interested! I’m just being respectful too! It’s a really hard balancing act, Chris!”
He laughs too. He looks into my eyes. He looks so deeply that I feel like he must see my soul and all of my darkest hidden secrets. He bends down and kisses me and then brings me to the couch.
“I think that it’s time that I told you everything,” he says.
After two hours, Chris has told me the entire saga, and it’s amazing. I can’t believe it. From entire neighborhoods under the grip of this one man, to Chris having to take them all into protective custody, to the explosion that nearly killed him and killed most of them in turn, to the Godfather’s apparent second business plan, long before he was incarcerated, and then the son’s betrayal, only to fall at the hands of the father!
The story is completely wild and insane! It’s too much even for a book! But it’s inspiring so many ideas and stories in me that as Chris goes to check on Jane I decide to sit down at my writing desk. I’d brought it from my brother’s place and stashed it in a corner of the living room, but I’d never really expected to use it.
Now, I sit here and open my notebook again and begin scribbling ideas. I look back into my notes, and I see that some other good ideas I’d had could be merged with this one. The lady with the red coat could definitely work well as the mom. And then the detective with one eye? He’d be absolutely perfect for going after Shorty. Or the Shorty-like character. There had to be one.
And what about the person who’d shot Shorty? Oh, I’d make her a woman! Maybe she’d be the hero of the book! That would be amazing! An assassin heroine who finds love as she tries to undo a mobster’s failed legacy. That’s an amazing story!
All of the details begin to flow in my head, merging together to form settings, character arcs, plot… I can see the whole thread of it from beginning to end. I start at the beginning and write the first chapter. It flows so easily that I keep writing.
I sense Chris beside me after a few minutes. He is only there briefly, then gone and returning on quiet feet with a hot coffee to tuck in beside me. I begin sipping it. Next thing I know, it’s gone and replaced again. I’m still writing when the dawn pierces the horizon.
Jane cries and I stand to go to her. But Chris, who was napping on the couch, perks up.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got this,” he says as he heads into the nursery.
I smile and sit back down and continue writing. Writing until dawn was a terrible idea it turns out, and I pay for it for days after. But each evening thereafter, for a couple of hours solid while Chris and Jane play, or Amanda comes over and plays with her, I get all of the words down.
The story is pouring out of me. It’s like finally, I understand what it is I’m trying to say in my books. It’s not just about the mystery. And it’s not just about the thrill or suspense. It’s about the story that binds the characters together and the lines of fate that keep bringing them into one another’s lives, whether they want it or not. It’s about all of those potential timelines that I keep seeing in my own mind and exploring through my characters and their lives.
And it’s about what brings two people together in such a way that they’ll never break apart.
I finally understand the stories I want to tell, and the words flow from my heart and mind to my pen and paper.
It’s been a long journey to get to the end. But I wouldn’t change it for anything.
24
Laura
Chris is putting Jane to bed and I take this opportunity to sneak into the kitchen. It’s time for a celebration and I get the wine glasses
out, open a bottle of wine and pour. I can’t help but smile when Chris finds out what I’m up to.
“What are we celebrating?” he asks.
“The...end,” I say.
His eyes light up and he gathers me in his arms. He kisses me gently, and looks even more pleased than I feel. “That’s amazing, Laura! I’m so proud of you! What’s next?”
I hand him a glass of wine, and we toast my success - our success, “Sending it to an agent. I’ve done my research, and I think I know one or two who might like it. They can get me to a big publisher. So here’s hoping.”
“Here’s hoping indeed.”
I feel high on success and happiness, the wine helping it along. I’ve worked hard to get this far - we both have, even Amanda has - spending the last few months working each evening. Me focusing on the writing, letting the words pour out. While Chris and Amanda have been taking care of Jane. I’m proud of myself and can feel Chris’s pride in me as well. I have to tell him, “Thank you, Chris, I couldn’t have done it without you!”
“You can do anything you want, with or without me,” he answers as he takes a step closer to me.
I look up at him with what I hope is a coy smile, “I can think of something that I can’t easily do without you.” And, that’s all the encouragement either of us need as we crush together, our bodies hungry for one another.
As we kiss, we sway back and forth, as though dancing to a song only our hearts can hear. His hands wander up and down my body and mine explore his, as well. We begin to tear each other’s clothing off, piles of it forming around us. We dance around it, until we’re both naked, pressing against each other.
I feel safe. Safe and loved. I’ll never have to worry about money again, or the mob, or losing him. My worries revolve solely around my books, and if someone will love them.
It’s sublime to be worried about only that, about achieving my dreams. It’s amazing that this is my focus, now. This and my little family - Jane. Chris. Dreams. Me.
Chris kisses me again, and I feel him hard against me. I’m wet, ready for him. I bring him toward the couch as we kiss.
“Back to old times?” he winks at me. I laugh softly and push him down on it.
“This time, I’ll take this spot,” I whisper huskily to him as I straddle him, lowering myself slowly on his hard shaft.
He’s big and swollen, and I’m going slow, letting my body adjust, every nerve-ending tingling with anticipation. His hands find my breasts and he pinches my nipples. I gasp and can’t help but move faster on him. I arch my back, loving the feel of him within me.
He completes me. In so many ways. Physically, emotionally, and he supports my dreams.
I begin to push up and down, as he rubs my breasts, then holds my waist and hips, urging me to go faster. I pump his cock, up and down, feeling him grow thicker, harder.
His mouth is open, and he’s close. I slow down, enjoying the moment.
“I don’t think so,” Chris says, as he flips me over. I laugh as I find myself on my back. He grins at me, and pushes back in, deeper.
He thrusts inside of me quick and hard, and I moan, loving how he’s taking me. How he’s owning me.
He can have me. All of me. Over and over again. Until the end of time. Until we both write “the end” on our common story, together. There is nowhere I’d rather be, then here, in his arms, knowing I’m loved.
That every part of me is loved.
He gently kisses my neck, the same neck that the man had threatened to crush. In Chris’ embrace, I feel strong, again. My neck is the conduit from my heart to my mind, and it belongs to Chris. As all of me does.
I never told him about that hand around my neck. About the nightmares that continue to haunt me. But as he kisses every inch of skin on my neck, he washes away that fear and sensation, leaving behind only love, and life.
Without even knowing, he knows how to cleanse this final pain from me. I kiss him, hard, our lips crushing one against the other, his need as great as mine, as though nightmares lifted from his mind and heart, as well.
We come together and collapse in each other’s arms. It’s exactly where I was always meant to be.
Epilogue - Chris
THREE MONTHS LATER
I never thought I’d be back home, much less have such an amazing home. I mean, I live in the same apartment, sure. Still a beautiful penthouse suite. But it’s no longer austere and cold. It’s full of life and hope. Of possibility and family.
And I have both, now.
I now know that during all those months blocked off from my life, when I’d feared I’d never come home, that I didn’t even know what a home was.
Now I know. Thanks to Laura and Jane.
My gaze crosses the length of the space, spotting every touch brought by Laura. From paintings on the wall to bookshelves, I love every inch of it because it reminds me of her. The book spines are mostly well loved. Laura only keeps books she reads over and over again to study and enjoy, and she scoffs regularly at all the design shows that suggest putting books spine in, to make the bookshelves more uniform.
“What’s the point of that,” she always says, incensed. “The beauty of the bookshelf is in all those books, with those tantalizing titles and colors!” It’s like I can hear her, now.
She’s so much a part of me that I can’t imagine not having her with me. A part of my life.
Jane is off with Uncle Dan and Auntie Amanda today. Laura should be back soon, and I’ve got everything ready. Rose petals go from the front door to our table. I’ve covered it with a white tablecloth, flowers, and candles.
I’ve got champagne on ice and a great supper is keeping warm in the oven.
I leaned rather heavily on Amanda for ideas, although most of Amanda’s ideas were fairly terrible for Laura.
I didn’t want to take Laura out to propose. She’d hate the public spectacle of it all. This is about her, after all. About us.
The lock on the door disengages, and I’m suddenly very nervous. I rub my sweaty palm on my leg. Nothing says “marry me” like sweaty palms, after all.
I hear Laura step in, then a small sound of surprise.
“Chris?”
“Here,” I answer from around the corner. I hear her put her bags down, and she follows the petals to me. She turns, eyes wide.
I fall to my knee.
“Laura Martin,” I say, my voice choking from emotion. Her own hands cover her mouth in surprise. “You’ve already made me the happiest man alive. You’re a wonderful partner and an amazing mother. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”
“Yes!” She practically shouts in enthusiasm. We both laugh, and I stand and place the ring on her finger. It’s not overstated, just a small diamond, but I wanted to make sure she would love it.
She admires it, then gazes up at me, tears in the corners of her eyes, “I love you.” She closes the small gap between us, and we kiss long and deep.
The fire alarm goes off, and I jump. “Crap,” I say, running to the kitchen. I open the oven and throw on oven mitts to pull out the burning cardboard containers.
Laura is laughing as she fans the fire detector.
“I always did say you were hot,” she says as she joins me in the kitchen. Okay, leaving the food in the takeout containers wasn’t the best plan.
I grin at her and take out two plates. It’s from her favorite restaurant, a japanese fusion place. I made sure to order almost everything with shrimp.
“That was a hot proposal,” I tell her seriously. “Set off the fire alarms and everything.”
She laughs, “You went to all this trouble for me!” Her eyes soften. She looks happy. I love when she looks happy. “Thank you,” she whispers and leans in for a kiss. Her cell rings.
“I’ll just make sure it’s not about Jane…” she says, then pauses. “It’s the agency I sent my book to.”
“Pick it up!” I tell her.
“But…”
“Laura! God almighty, answer it!
”
She looks stunned, but answers, “Hello?” She sounds scared. Breathless. Hopeful. She absentmindedly grabs my hand as she nods and begins to say thank you in various ways. She still looks shocked but also deliriously happy. I stay with her, wanting to ask her to put the call on hands free, but also wanting to let her enjoy every second of this call.
After what feels like an eternity of her nodding, she hangs up.
“Well?” I ask.
“They love it,” she whispers. “They want to send it out to a huge publisher. They think they have the perfect one.”
“Congratulations!” I gather her in my arms. She holds me tightly.
“I can’t believe it!” she says, several times, as we bring our plates to the table and sit down by candlelight. Her engagement ring catches the flicker of light and sends prisms of color dancing on the white table cloth.
“Wait,” I ask. “Have I been upstaged?”
She laughs, “No! Never.” She looks at the ring and then at me. She takes my hand in hers, her eyes sparkling as they meet mine. Then her eyes grow wide, “Wait! I have something for you!”
She heads to our room, then comes back out. It’s a watch. She flushes red. “It’s the watch from the day I was, well, kidnapped.” She gives a wry look. “I never thought I’d have to say those words! Anyway, that was months ago. It was for you, but I didn’t want to give it to you right away after everything...look at the inscription.”
It’s a beautiful watch, perfect for me. I turn it over and read the inscription. Forever Yours.
“I...I love it,” my voice catches in my throat, my throat tight with emotion. She closes the gap between us, kisses me gently. “My little time robber,” I tease. She flushes with pleasure.
“You, Chris Heed, are all the happy-ever-after I’ll ever need. You always were. You always will be.”
I kiss her again, slow and deep, amazed that this is now my life. Perfect, amazing, breathtaking.
Now and forever.
Forbidden Neighbor: A Contemporary Romance Boxset (Forbidden Saga Book 2) Page 44
