by London James
Owen comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist.
“So, what she means is it’s eggnog-flavored butterscotch.”
He kisses my neck as I roll my eyes.
“That sounds delicious,” Miles says.
I pluck the apple from the crate and pull away the plastic wrapping so he can’t change his mind about accepting the treat. He takes it and stares it down, turning it back and forth like he’s trying to come up with the most dignified way to take on the apple. Finally, he gives up and chomps down into it, laughing as the caramel clings and pulls away in long strands.
It’s the perfect start to the Winter Festival, but it’s the gala I’ve most been looking forward to. A main feature of the festival for the adults of Vidalia Isle, the gala acts as both a celebration and a fundraiser for the local schools. Owen offered to get me a new dress for it, but I can’t imagine any gown more perfect than the pink one he surprised me with at the summer palace.
“I want to wear it while it still fits,” I say, running my hand along the front of the soft pink fabric.
Our baby is there, though it hasn’t made itself known to the outside world yet. I know soon enough I’ll be showing, and the gown will have to take its place in the closet, possibly never to be worn again. I’m alright with that as long as I can give it a fabulous farewell tonight.
“You look gorgeous,” he says, kissing me. “Are you sure you’re going to be alright going on ahead without me?”
“Of course,” I say. “You have your video conference, and I’ll see you when you get there. Seb and Skylar are meeting me here, and we’ll head for the barn together.”
“Good. I love you. Have fun.”
“I will. I love you, too. See you soon.”
By the time I get downstairs, Skylar and Sebastian are already waiting for me in the parlor. They’re whispering excitedly, but hush when I get close.
“Hi, Avery,” Seb says. “You look pretty.”
“Thanks. What’s going on?” I ask.
They exchange glances. “What do you mean?” Skylar asks.
“Mmm-hmm,” I say. “Come on. Let’s get to the ball.”
I can’t help but notice their grins as they stand and join me at the door. Opening the door reveals what brought out their giggling delight. A carriage sits out front, two horses ready at the control of a uniformed driver.
“You have to admit,” Skylar says as we head down the steps to the carriage. “He’s a good one.”
The carriage brings us up to the barn, and memories of the harvest ball flood back. The decorations remind me of my caramel apple table from the festival earlier, a blend of winter and Halloween that starts with a black carpet flanked with snowmen built from white pumpkins and continuing through to the Christmas trees decorated with spiders and bats and pumpkins carved with snowflakes and stars. Julie rushes up to me almost as soon as I walk inside.
“You have to come trick-or-treating,” she gushes, taking both my hands in hers.
“Trick-or-treating?” I ask.
“Yes! It was Owen’s idea. He suggested this year to honor the Halloween Redux, we should make a grown-up trick-or-treat trail. The children have their own party happening in one of the stables out back, complete with a candy trail and bobbing for apples before the adults only ball.”
“Do you want to trick-or-treat?” I ask Sebastian and Skylar.
They both nod enthusiastically, and I let Julie lead us out of the ballroom and out into the cool night. The outside of the barn has been transformed into a weaving trail flanked with gnarled black trees. Masked people on either side of the trail offer bags to each person that goes by into the trail. I accept one and start down the trail. Different characters and costumed beings step out along the path to drop treats into our bags.
Along the way, the environment around the trail slowly shifts so we go from a dark, creepy forest to an enchanted wonderland. Ahead of me, I see green walls, and my heart skips slightly. They remind me of the labyrinth on the summer island. We walk through the opening in the recreated hedges and into a world of roses. Skylar gasps and tears spring to my eyes.
Elegantly dressed attendants drop chocolate roses into my bag as I weave along the familiar path. I’m nearly at the end when a man in a black suit steps out in front of me. His red mask makes my heart pound in my chest. My hands shake slightly as I walk up to him.
“Trick or treat,” I whisper.
Owen reaches into his pocket and takes out a small velvet box, dropping it into my bag. I reach in for it and lift the lid. A diamond glistens up at me. When I look back at Owen, he’s down on one knee, the mask now held in one hand.
“You are what I’ve waited for my entire life,” he says. “I have never met anyone like you, and that is because there is no one like you. You are the most incredible woman I’ve ever known, and I can’t bear the thought of ever being without you again. I love you more than I could ever put into words and more than I will ever be able to. All I can say is that I want to spend my life with you and promise that every day I’ll try to find another way to show you how much I treasure you. Avery, will you marry me?”
My breath catches in my chest, and the tears trickle down my cheeks.
“Yes,” I tell him. “Yes. I love you, Owen.”
He gets to his feet and takes the box from my hand. The ring slips perfectly onto my finger, and he gathers me into a hug, kissing me softly. I step away from him and hug the friends gathered behind me. The women take their turn with Owen, and I see him and Sebastian face off.
“Cinnamon Buns,” Owen says with a nod.
Sebastian nods back seriously. “Sugar Plum.”
They both smile and Owen hugs him, pounding him affectionately on the back. He wraps his arm around my waist again, and I grin at Julie.
“How does your committee feel about planning a wedding?”
Ten months later…
“Are you absolutely sure it doesn’t bother you to come here for our honeymoon?” I ask.
“This isn’t our honeymoon,” Owen tells me. “When Sabine is a bit older, we’ll go on a true honeymoon. This is just coming home.”
The word makes my heart swell and my smile stretch so hard across my face, my cheeks ache. The banner stretching across the boardwalk is brand new for the year, welcoming us to the second annual Vidalia Isle Harvest Festival. It has been almost three months since we welcomed our daughter and just over a week since our wedding in Calidonia.
The entire extravaganza was more pomp and circumstance than I’ve ever experienced in my life, but it was magical. Julie and the rest of the committee took me up on my offer and came to Calidonia with us to work with the royal event coordinator to create a wedding as unique as Owen and me. I expected the king and queen to be resistant, but all it took was the promise of a cuddle with their granddaughter, and they melted.
It turns out they didn’t send Isabel to the summer island, and they felt no compassion for her when she went crying to them after Owen cast her out of Vidalia Isle. The image of her fulfilling her royal obligation by being an official attendant at my wedding will remain one of my favorites.
I still don’t like the formal titles and having people bow to me when Owen and I walk into a room, but I haven’t quite gotten to the place where I’m ready to stop her from curtseying. I like to think of it as my first official royal public service. Each dip is good for her.
“It’s good to be home,” I tell him. “It’s been hard to be away for so long.”
“I know,” he says. “But now that Sabine has been formally introduced, we have a lot more freedom. We can spend as much time here as you want.”
“Speaking of which, there’s Shawn and Leo,” I say and wave at the two men.
They smile broadly and rush toward me. As has become the custom, all their attention first goes to the baby in my arms. I don’t blame them; she’s perfect. Her hair is as dark as mine, but her eyes are the same caramel color as her father’s. He likes to
say they look like butterscotch.
“Welcome home,” Shawn says to me, giving me a kiss on the cheek.
It’s only been a week since I saw everyone at the wedding, but it feels different seeing them away from the formality.
“How long have you been here?” Leo asks.
“Not long,” I tell him. “We just landed about an hour ago.”
“Your room is ready at Hometown Bed And Breakfast,” he says. “I think you’ll like the new linens.”
I smile. “I can’t wait to see them.”
They grin at each other, the warmth and pure joy in their eyes threatening to bring tears to mine. After we got engaged, Owen and I had a long conversation about our future, talking about where we would live, how we would raise our baby, and fulfilling our royal duties without having to completely change my life. One of the first things that came to mind was Hometown Bed And Breakfast. The decision was easy. My grandparents loved the bed-and-breakfast and poured themselves into it.
They left it to me as their legacy, but they would never want to feel like I was clinging to it only out of obligation. Running the inn for the rest of my life wasn’t in my heart, but it was in Shawn's and Leo’s. I know my grandparents would be proud to see how passionate they are carrying on the business and giving it fresh new life. My only request of them is to make sure my room is always ready for me whenever I want to visit.
“I’ll see you when we get there later,” I tell them, giving each another kiss on the cheek. “Have fun at the festival.”
They wave and scurry off toward the cotton candy vendor nearby.
“What do you want to do first?” Owen asks.
“I’m not sure,” I tell him.
“Fun House?” he asks.
I nudge him with my elbow. “You’ll see. I’ve been practicing. I’ll slip down that slide like a rocket.”
Owen laughs. “Where have you been practicing?” he asks.
“You don’t know what Miles and I get up to while you’re away,” I say. “We could have a whole carnival ride training ground. You wouldn’t know.”
“That’s true. Well, how about the Hall of Mirrors?”
We’re starting toward the green when I see a frantic-looking woman running toward us.
“Avery!” she gasps. “Avery!”
“Yes?” I say, handing the baby to Owen so I can reach out for the desperate woman. “Are you alright?”
“No,” she shakes her head. “I need your help.”
“What can I do?”
“My brother. He’s missing. I know you can find him.”
“I don’t know what I can do,” I say.
“Yes, you do,” she says. “I heard what you did last year. I know all about how you solved that murder. The police aren’t taking Desmond’s disappearance seriously, and I’m so worried about him. I know you can help me.”
Owen takes my hand and pulls it to get my attention.
“Avery,” he says with a warning note in his voice. “That’s behind you. The only reason you did that is because people were accusing you of the crime. Your life is your daughter and caramel apples now. Maybe some royal duties sprinkled in when I can get you to do them.”
His choice of words stands out.
Sprinkled.
“I made caramel apples and investigated at the same time before. And made her, by the way. I can do it again.”
“This is exactly what Vidalia Isle needs. A caramel-apple-making private investigator.”
He smiles and shakes his head as I turn back to Melanie and squeeze both her hands.
“Tell me more about your brother.”
THE END
Book Three - Stuck With You
Description
You drive me crazy.
Why am I always Stuck with You?
We’ve known each other since we were kids.
Rowan was my best friend, my neighbor, my everything.
Crazy how quickly things can change.
How much the boy that use to sneak into my bedroom would change.
Rowan was my first love.
We even shared our first time together.
Yet, in one day we became enemies.
Years passed and we became worse than strangers.
He became a billionaire.
And I spend my days doing secretarial work.
We’re worlds apart, our lives couldn’t be more opposite.
But fate has a way of always bringing us back together.
This time right under the same roof.
Our shared tragedy brought about something we didn’t bargain for.
A drunken night turned into a night we shared our vows.
If only that was the only shocking thing that night brought!
Prologue
Everly
His face is the only thing I see. When I close my eyes, when I dream, when I’m awake, and he walks right next to me—I am immersed in everything that is Rowan Michaels. We have been friends since we were five. We’ve lived down the road from each other our entire lives. From playdates to high school dances, there isn’t anything we haven’t done together. Rowan would even climb the vines up to my window and crawl into bed with me to watch tv, sometimes fall asleep, like best friends do.
But I love him. I’m madly, inevitably, head over heels, in love with Rowan. I’ve loved him since forever. There hasn’t been a time where my heart doesn’t trip over itself every time I look at his handsome face. And every time I try to work up the courage to tell him how I want him to be my first.
My first kiss.
My first time.
My first love.
We are eighteen now, high school graduates, and in one day we are leaving to go to schools on opposite sides of the country. He is going to Cal-Berkeley, and I’m going to NYU. I want us to stay friends, but I know what happens when people get separated like that. An entire lifetime of memories has to be strong enough to make it through cross-country, right?
“You aren’t wearing that,” Blaire says, flipping through a magazine that has an article of one of the bands she likes.
I turn left and right, rubbing my hands down my tank top and tight jeans. It looks good. “What’s wrong with it? I wear this all the time.”
She sighs, in her typical annoyed, emo fashion. “That’s the problem. You wear that outfit all the time. You need to wear something different if you want to grab Rowan’s attention.”
Blaire rolls off the bed and onto her feet, walks over to my closet, and judges it silently. Like she always does.
She is the only one who knows how much I love Rowan, and she is the only one who knows of my plan to seduce him tonight. Or try to. All the high school graduates are throwing a big party tonight in the woods. There is going to be a bonfire, music, probably booze from the more rebellious people, but I may have a drink tonight. I mean, why not? I’m an adult now, about to go to college. I deserve to celebrate.
And a part of that celebration has to do with Rowan. Tonight, I’m going to kiss Rowan, maybe more, and it will be the best night of my life.
“Rowan won’t look at you twice wearing that. He will see the girl next door, his best friend. You don’t want him to see that, do you?” Blaire continues, sliding each hanger across the pole in my closet.
“Well, no. You know I don’t.” I battle with my hair in the mirror. Up or down? Up? I push my long, honey brown locks off my shoulder and in a messy bun. Or down? And let the thick strands go, letting it fall over my shoulders.
“Wear your hair up. It’ll look great with this dress.” Blaire pulls a dark purple mini−dress out of the closest. That still has the tags on it because I never wear dresses. Ever.
“Jeez, Blaire. I can’t wear that. He will think I’m easy or something.”
“Oh my god,” she rolls her eyes. “Isn’t that the goal? Aren’t you trying to be easy for him? And it’s hardly easy when you’ve known each other since almost birth. Now it’s just natural. Like a step in the evolutionar
y process, for the world to get better.” Blaire rips the tags off the dress and tosses the skimpy material at me. “Try it on.”
I know she’s right. Rowan won’t look at me twice if I’m wearing the same old get-up that I usually do. Blaire, while she sounds rude, is just honest. She doesn’t beat around the bush, and that’s what I love most about her. And if I want to lose my virginity to the man I love, it isn’t going to be in jeans that he has seen five-hundred times.
“Do you think I’m stupid for doing this?” I ask, tossing the tank top on the bed and shimmying out of my jeans. When I slip into the dress, it’s already suctioning to my calves as I try and pull it up my body. I don’t remember it being this tight when I bought it.
She licks her finger and turns a page in the magazine. “Nope. I think this is a long time coming. You and Rowan have been fighting this long enough. It’s time to give in to your desires. Let human nature take control.” She flips the page again, so nonchalantly, like this isn’t the biggest deal in my entire world right now.
I finally get the bodice of the dress over my boobs and turn toward the mirror. “Hey, zip me up.”
Blaire rolls off the bed again, and her fingers are cold as she pulls the material closer together, so the zipper glides up easier. “All done. Oh yeah, this is the outfit. No freaking way can he turn you down in this.”
I swallow hard, my throat bobbing as I stare at myself. The plum dress is stark against my skin, making it look like snow. My green eyes are bright, even without makeup. The color of the dress brings the color out naturally. My small waist can actually be seen, and the dress stops mid-thigh, curving over the natural bubble of my butt.
“Wow,” I marvel, feeling beautiful. I’m not a kid anymore. I’m a real, grown woman, getting ready to go get what she wants.
“Oh, he has no idea what is about to hit him,” Blaire grins.
