by Ford, Brynn
Table of Contents
Blue
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Playlist for "Blue"
About the Author
Available Now
Book 2 Preview
Acknowledgments
Connect with Brynn Ford
Blue (Black Ties, Book 1)
Copyright © 2019 Brynn Ford
Published by Brynn Ford
Cover Design Copyright © 2019 Arijana Karčić at Cover It! Designs
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews that are cited appropriately.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the author's work.
More from the Author
www.BrynnFord.com
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ADULT CONTENT: This book contains explicit sexual content and mature themes.
For Sara,
my soulmate and inspiration from above,
and for our babies with you in heaven
that you love enough for both of us.
This is for you.
Prologue
Desi
March ~ St. Patrick's Day
* * *
"Here’s to the only day I don’t look like a total sleaze bag for heavy drinking at the bar in the middle of the afternoon,” Vaughn flashed a grin at me, holding up his glass to toast.
“To first dates with total strangers and green beer,” I clinked his glass enthusiastically.
His head tilted to the side, disarming me with an absolutely dazzling bright, white smile, “Would you call this a date?”
“If it’s not, babe, you’re gonna have some explaining to do in the morning,” I bit my lip, flirting shamelessly with this guy I’d met just hours ago.
Vaughn swiveled to face me on his bar stool. Leaning forward, he placed his large, warm hand on my knee, “And who exactly am I gonna have to do this explaining to in the morning, Desi?”
Hearing my own name slip off his tongue in such a charmingly smooth voice made my insides melt. I glanced at his hand on my leg, adoring the look of his fully tattooed arm reaching out to connect with me. My eyes followed the line of artwork from his wrist upward toward his shoulder until it disappeared beneath the short sleeve of his black t-shirt.
I looked up to make eye contact and immediately lost myself in his deep, honey colored eyes. I had no words to express how much I wanted to take this guy home with me.
I was interested.
He was interested.
Oh, this is so happening.
“Let’s go back to my place,” I said brazenly.
Vaughn looked positively pleased with himself, “Let’s go.”
We headed for the exit. The moment we stepped over the threshold from crowded bar to fresh evening air, Vaughn took my wrist and spun me around to face him, pulling me close into his strong embrace.
He was tall, towering over me, making me feel grounded, sheltered, protected. He was broad with toned, lean muscle, the kind of guy who could render me completely helpless if he wanted to. I shivered in his hold, feeling an immediate, deep connection to this beautiful man that I simply couldn’t ignore. I could see a flicker of acknowledgment behind his eyes that he felt it, too.
He bent down and kissed me. It was steamy and rough and wet with passion without hesitation or fear. His beard tickled my skin delightfully. He claimed my lips and everything attached to them with that kiss and I internally swooned. When he finally pulled back, I was passion-struck, in a daze.
My eyes were still closed when I told him, “You can have me, stranger. I’ll let you have me any way you want me.”
I felt his gentle hand cup my cheek and his thumb brush over my bottom lip, “I don’t think I want us to be strangers.”
I opened my eyes and smiled at him, “Did you hear that? That was the sound of my panties dropping for you.”
He laughed and it was the most incredible sound, “Well, let me help you pick them up so I can take them off you again in a more appropriate location.”
That right there was all the confirmation I needed to know this man was perfect for me. I took him home with me and let him do just that.
May
* * *
I opened the door to my tiny, studio apartment looking like a fresh, hot mess. My hair was prepped to win the messiest messy bun award, my face looked sallow and tired, and I was wearing an old, stained t-shirt with my black yoga pants. At least I could blame the gross clothes on the fact that it was laundry day. I wanted to crawl up in a ball and die when I saw Vaughn standing there with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a grocery store bag in the other.
“Hey, sexy,” he said with a smile.
“Lies. What are you doing here?”
“Came to see you,” he stepped right on into my apartment, “Wait, is that not allowed when you’re dating?”
“Oh, it’s encouraged, but only when I’ve been properly warned. You’re not supposed to see all this,” I waved my hand over my body to more effectively present my hot-mess-girlfriend status.
He took the grocery bag to the tiny kitchenette and set it down on the stove top because there wasn’t any other space for it, “Do you have a vase for these flowers, babe?”
I reached into one of the cabinets to pull out my grandmother’s hand-me-down blue, porcelain vase, handing it over to him.
“I’m actually glad you’re here,” I started nervously, “We need to talk about something.”
Oh, God.
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.
I’d been avoiding this conversation like the plague over the last week, generally just avoiding him, which is probably why he showed up unannounced.
“Yeah?” he finished putting the flowers into the vase and filling it with water.
I noticed then that he brought me white lilies, my favorite flower. I’d only mentioned that to him once in the two months we’d been dating. It brought a smile to my face as he slinked over to wrap his arms around my waist and pull me close.
“What do we need to talk about?” he asked, brushing a fallen strand of my long, chestnut brown hair away from my face.
Okay, Desi, just say it.
I sucked in a breath and spat out the words, “Vaughn, I’m pregnant.”
Silence.
Crickets.
Purely awkward beats of waiting and waiting.
/>
“Are you serious?” his eyebrows rose sharply in surprise.
“As a heart attack.”
“You’re being totally serious with me right now?”
“I wouldn’t joke about something like this. And trust me, it’s no joke. I’ve been puking every morning for the last two weeks, everything smells awful, I’m starving, but I can’t eat anything. And personally, I’m a little offended that you didn’t notice my boobs were just a little bouncier.”
As I spoke, his face slowly changed from dark to light, as if his sharp features were on a dimmer switch that was growing brighter and brighter as moments passed.
“You’re having my baby,” it was a statement rather than a question.
“Yes.”
“You’re having our baby,” he corrected himself as the most brilliant smile touched his eyes.
My skin tingled. My heartbeat quickened. My body was suddenly cloaked in warmth and wonder and love.
Fucking love.
I’m in love with this man.
I have to tell him.
“Vaughn, I –”
“I’m so in love with you, Desi,” he beat me to the punch.
“I’m in love with you, too.”
June
* * *
I awakened slowly to soft lips pressing to the side of my cheek, against my shoulder, down my arm, accompanied by the sweetest voice.
“Desi,” Vaughn whispered softly from where he laid behind me.
“Hmm?” I mumbled, still half asleep.
Vaughn’s hand slipped down the length of my arm, interlocking his fingers with mine before lifting our hands to kiss my knuckles.
“Marry me.”
“What?” I turned my head back to look at him, startled by the question.
He smiled, “You heard me. Marry me. Be my wife. Have all my babies.”
I rolled to face him and he let go of my hand to pull my bare leg over his hip.
“If you want to get in my pants, well, they’re already off babe.”
“Stop it,” his eyes narrowed as his face took on a serious expression in the dark, “Desi. I want you to marry me. Be mine forever. You’re it for me. I’m in love with you and I won’t ever stop. I can’t even see my future without you now. If you say yes, I promise I’ll make you happier than anyone else ever could.”
I swallowed.
He smiled.
I forgot how to speak, so I did the only thing I could think of. I grabbed the back of his neck and pulled his face to mine. Though I couldn’t seem to get the word out, I told him with my lips, my tongue, my hands, that my answer was an ecstatic, resounding, yes.
July ~ Independence Day
* * *
We decided to get married in the simplest way possible with a small ceremony at a butterfly garden just outside of the city. We chose July 4th, thinking that getting married on Independence Day was as ironic and unexpected as our entire relationship. By some miracle, the gardens were open with a limited staff that day, so we just went inside, found the perfect spot, and got married. Vaughn’s brother-in-law, Milo, got ordained online and agreed to marry us. It was short and sweet and utterly fucking perfect.
After the ceremony, we took a walk together around the gardens. Vaughn was following behind me for a while and I thought for sure he was just enjoying the backside view of his new bride. But then I heard him snapping pictures on his phone. I turned around and caught him staring down at his screen.
“Hey," I tried to get his attention, "Hello? Your sexy ass wife is right here. Look up.”
He smiled, then turned his screen around to show me what he was looking at. It was a picture of a pale, blue butterfly he’d pulled up on the internet.
“Vaughn. We are literally surrounded by actual, real life butterflies.”
“I was just looking up what this one is called because,” he paused, turning his phone away and tapping a few times before holding it out to me again, “This butterfly is your new best friend.”
On his screen was a picture of me from behind, one of the same pale, blue butterflies resting on my bare shoulder.
“One of these landed on you during the ceremony. Just for a moment, then flew away. But this one has been there on your shoulder for the last fifteen minutes, while we’ve been walking around.”
He swiped his finger on the screen, showing me picture after picture that he’d taken.
“What’s it called?” I asked him with a smile.
“It’s a Holly Blue.”
“Its beautiful.”
“Kindred spirits. This one fell in love with you like I did.”
I could’ve melted into a puddle from the look in his eyes, and I nearly did when he swooped me up into his arms and kissed me.
“Come on, my Holly Blue, I wanna take you home so I can go down on you under this frilly skirt.”
“Subtle. I like it,” I bit my lip.
“You love it,” he whispered into my ear.
His breath was warm and wet.
I grinned, “Take me home, hubby.”
August
* * *
I didn’t know how we got there.
I literally didn’t know how we got from our bed to the hospital.
All I knew was that I woke up to the worst stomach cramps I’ve ever had and soaking wet sheets. My water had broken. Labor had started. The doctors couldn’t stop the contractions.
I couldn’t hear anymore. There was no sound after the doctor told me they couldn’t detect a heartbeat. It was just silence and the knowledge that I was going to deliver my stillborn baby girl.
I could feel every awful contraction, the burning and stretching as I delivered, the sheer and utter exhaustion of labor and delivery.
And then it was over.
I’d never been in a space so quiet, so still.
Energy and love and hope and life itself had been sucked out by a vacuum of ruin.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
A tiny, lifeless baby was placed in my arms and nothing else in the world existed.
Breathe. Breathe. Just breathe.
“Breathe, baby. Breathe. Just breathe.”
“Desi –” Vaughn tried.
“Shut up. Just shut up. Everyone shut up. I won’t be able to hear her breathing.”
Some stranger’s voice said, “I’m so sorry.”
The words squeezed me like a trigger, shooting me off into anguish that cloaked my soul. It twisted every part of my being until the best pieces of me broke apart, leaving me with jagged edges.
She’s not breathing.
She’s not.
She’s dead.
My baby’s dead.
It hit me and I fell. I tumbled right off that cliff and fell and fell and fell. And when I hit the bottom, I screamed until I couldn’t scream anymore.
Chapter 1
Desi
October ~ Halloween ~ Present
* * *
Every muscle in my body jerked in unison, startled by the sudden, gentle touch of Vaughn’s hand at the small of my back.
“Desi,” he said my name quietly, carefully.
I could feel the concern in the way his fingertips curled around my side as well as I could hear it in his voice.
“Yeah,” I replied, “I’m okay.”
“I don’t believe you. You’ve washed that same dish three times now. Here,” he reached across my front where I stood at the sink, taking the white porcelain dish from my hands.
Vaughn dried it quickly with a towel, setting it on the countertop. I reached for another dish to occupy my hands again, but he was quick, turning off the faucet before I could distract myself. Gripping me by the waist, he spun me to face him, pulling me close with his strong arms wrapping around me as he leaned back against the cheap laminate countertop.
His eyes narrowed at me with gentle concern, “What were you thinking about, Desi?”
I avoided meeting his eyes, plastering a small, insincere smile to m
y face, “Nothing important.”
“You sure? You’ve been a little distant lately.”
He was putting it mildly. We both knew I’d been lost for a while now, but I’d been a good actress the first few weeks after Lucy died. I was losing the energy necessary to pretend and his worry was palpable.
“I know,” I sighed, “I’m sorry, I just…I’m a little distracted, that’s all.”
“You don’t say?” he said with a sarcastic smirk.
It was almost enough to disarm me with his natural charm.
Almost.
Three months ago, I would’ve dragged him to the bedroom, hypnotized by the love in his eyes, lost in the way his thumbs circled just above my hips. Now, I just felt so tired, so overwhelmed, so depressed. I didn’t want him touching me anymore. It wasn’t that I didn’t love him. It wasn’t that I wanted someone else. I felt ashamed that all he wanted was to love me, but I just couldn’t let him in. I covered his hands with mine and gave them a gentle squeeze before pulling them from my body and stepping away.
“I’m tired,” I justified pathetically, crossing the small distance from the tiny kitchenette in our apartment to the living room.
I grabbed the Chicago Bears blanket, Vaughn’s favorite team, from the back of the couch before sitting as far across the piece of furniture as possible, leaning my elbow against the armrest. I curled my legs beneath me, pulling the blanket across my lap as Vaughn pushed off the kitchen counter.
I made the mistake of glancing over at him. His crestfallen face hit me with another crippling wave of guilt that my grieving brain was incapable of processing in a healthy way. As he approached, I secretly wished he would sit far from me. I couldn’t stand to feel the hurt radiating from him when I was already so overwhelmed with my own.
I let out a sigh when he lifted the blanket, climbing underneath it to settle next to me, his hip pressed close to mine where we sat.
He draped his arm across my shoulders and I shrugged, “Babe, I really just need some space right now, okay?”
