by T. K. Leigh
“Actually, no.”
As much as I adore this book, you’d think I’d own a copy. Having spent the better part of the last decade living in a tiny Manhattan apartment, I’ve learned to only buy the essentials.
“Now you will.” He squeezes my hand and leads me toward the cashier.
“You sure know the way to a woman’s heart. Books and the promise of sex? What did I do to win the jackpot?”
He edges toward me. “More than you’ll ever know, gorgeous.”
There’s that word again. The one that turns my insides to jelly. He must sense it, too, wrapping an arm around my waist to support me as we wait our turn. If I didn’t love books as much as I do, I’d tell him to forget about it and take me to bed, to hell with waiting in line.
But I want this reminder of today. One I know I’ll cherish in the months ahead.
After what feels like an eternity, he pays for my book, then steers me toward the large, glass door, holding it for me as I step out onto the busy Greenwich Village sidewalk.
Finding my hand once again, he wraps his around it, pulling me toward the nearest corner as a dark SUV pulls up. He approaches and opens the rear passenger door.
“Is this your ride?” I ask playfully.
“It is.”
I’m about to climb in when he stops me, pinching my chin. He urges my mouth toward his, running his thumb along my bottom lip. “I can’t get enough of these lips.” He dips his head toward me, tasting them in a soft kiss.
“Let’s go so you can have more of them. And then some.” I waggle my brows.
He all but tosses me into the back of the SUV, giving a small smile to the man behind the wheel as he merges into the early evening traffic.
“Eager much?” I jest.
He wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his embrace as he buries his head in my neck. “You have no idea, gorgeous.”
I sigh, melting into him, savoring every second of the twenty-minute drive to the Upper West Side. I want nothing more than to get out of this SUV and continue where we left off in the bookstore, but at the same time, I want to stay here, too. It’s a strange sensation to be pulled in so many directions at once. To yearn for the future, but also want to live in the present. To want to hurry up, yet also slow down.
When the SUV pulls up in front of a tall apartment building in a quiet neighborhood, he turns toward me, a single brow raised. “You sure you don’t want to change your mind? Go back to the bookstore? Pick out a different book? Perhaps one with less…complications?”
I shake my head, brushing my lips against his. “Not a chance in hell.”
He presses a chaste, yet invigorating kiss to my mouth. Once he slides out of the SUV, he helps me to the ground. Hand on the small of my back, he leads me toward the lobby of a building at which I could never fathom being able to afford to live.
The doorman offers us a warm greeting as he opens the glass doors, then runs ahead to call for an elevator. One arrives immediately. We step inside, the steel doors sliding closed, shutting out the rest of the world.
I attempt to step away, but he tightens his grip.
“Don’t think you’re getting away from me that easily,” he croons into my ear.
I glance up at him. “Is that right?”
“Now that I’ve brought you back to my lair, you’re mine.” He grins, a devilish glint in his eye.
“How very primitive of you.” I adjust his tie, smoothing it down his body, able to make out the defined chest and abdominal muscles underneath.
“Just you wait…” He nuzzles my neck, the scraping of his unshaven jaw against my flesh igniting a flame inside me. “You’re about to find out exactly how primitive I can be.”
The elevator dings and stops, announcing our arrival. He nips my skin before linking his fingers with mine. He leads me down the hall, approaching the only door on this floor.
“So this is home?” I ask flirtatiously as he inputs a code into a keypad above the doorknob.
He’s about to press the final number when he pauses, a breathtaking smile crossing his lips. It’s no longer mischievous or salacious. It’s peaceful, serene.
It brings me peace, too.
“No, love.” He grabs my left hand, bringing it up to his mouth, feathering a kiss on my fourth finger where a diamond ring typically sits. “You are my home, Nora.”
I sigh, draping my arms over his shoulders. “You’re my home, too, Anderson.”
Chapter Two
Nora
“Surprise!”
I come to an abrupt stop the second I step into the apartment I’ve shared with Anderson the past few months. After I’d agreed to make the move to his home country of Belmont, he bought it so I’d still have somewhere to call home here in the States.
I dart my eyes toward the open living space off the entry where my three best friends, Chloe, Evie, and Izzy, stand beneath giant balloons that spell out Engaged A.F.
It reminds me of the Ding Dong Divorced party they threw me around this time last year. Back then, falling in love again was the last thing I wanted.
That was before my path crossed Anderson’s, something that never would have happened if my three best girls hadn’t encouraged me to take the trip on Route 66 I’d put off for years.
I marvel at all the pieces that had to snap into place for us to meet and fall in love. It wasn’t an easy journey, and I’m sure we’ll have more than our fair share of struggles ahead, but Anderson’s worth it.
“What’s going on?” I glance at him.
In the few days since he surprised me with a proposal, I’ve tried to remain cognizant of Anderson’s desire that we keep our engagement to ourselves until he has a chance to talk to his father. After all, he’s crown prince. As heir apparent, the king’s approval is required for all marriages. He’d already bought the ring so he’d have it when the time was right. Apparently, that was the other day, despite the lack of formality. Then again, that’s typical Anderson. From the moment we met, he’s always been spontaneous.
“Your engagement party, of course,” he says with a wink.
“But—”
He swallows my protest with a kiss. Then he reaches into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, retrieving a familiar, velvet box. With minimal fanfare, he pops it open and slides the stunning ring with a vintage flair onto my finger.
Taking my hands in his, he runs his thumb along my knuckles. It’s only been a matter of days, but every time I leave the apartment and have to take off my ring, I feel like a piece of myself is missing.
“It wasn’t fair of me to ask you to not share this with your friends.”
“You had your reasons,” I insist in a low voice.
“True. But when I proposed, I promised to give you everything you ever wanted.” He nods toward the living area where my friends wait, their own significant others close by. “That’s what I’m doing. You deserve to celebrate this important milestone with your best friends, not be forced to keep it a secret. They know not to tell anyone until there’s a formal announcement. You’re about to leave the only place you’ve called home to start over in a new country. And not merely as another face in the crowd, but as Prince Gabriel Anderson Wellingston’s American fiancée. You deserve one last taste of normalcy. We both do.”
I lift myself onto my toes, draping my arms around his neck, peering into those eyes that mesmerized me from the beginning.
“Thank you,” I murmur against his lips.
“I love you.”
“And I love you.” I gently touch my mouth to his.
“For crying out loud. Will you stop making out so we can see the ring?” Evie exclaims excitedly.
I laugh against Anderson’s mouth, then pull away. My friends quickly advance on me, grasping my hand to admire the setting.
“Oh, Nora. It’s breathtaking,” Izzy exhales as Anderson approaches the men, each of them offering him their own congratulations.
A few years ago, I never could h
ave imagined this scene. Evie was still hopefully devoted to her ex, Trevor, which was to her detriment. Chloe was still vehemently anti-relationship. Izzy was still trying to convince all of us that, as a nurse who worked strange hours, she didn’t have time for a relationship. And I was engaged to the man I’d hoped would help me come to terms with losing Hunter, my first love.
Everything’s changed.
Julian taught Evie she shouldn’t have to sacrifice who she is for someone to love her. Lincoln helped Chloe see she’s worthy of love. Izzy learned she could run from love all she wants, but it will eventually come back for her, like happened with Asher. And I learned it’s okay to be vulnerable. To be less than perfect.
To be human.
“Have you discussed a date?” Evie grabs my elbow, leading me toward the kitchen island where a wide variety of finger foods have been set out.
I don’t have to ask who put this all together on such short notice. It has Evie written all over it. After all, she was the one who organized my Ding Dong Divorced party, including the rather macabre wedding cake featuring a bride pushing her groom off the top tier to his bloody demise. This time, instead of a cake, there’s an assortment of cupcakes arranged in the shape of a giant diamond ring.
“Not really.” I grit a smile. “We may not have much control as to when, but I told him I wanted to wait until you two can travel again.” I gesture between Chloe and Evie, both of them six months pregnant. “I’d like a long engagement anyway. That will give me time to get adjusted to life over there.”
“Are you ready for life over there?” Chloe presses. “For him to finally go public with your relationship?”
“Is anyone ever ready to be in the spotlight?” I joke, hoping my light tone masks my nerves.
It’s part of the reason he hasn’t brought me back home yet. He wanted to wait until we’d been together longer than a few months. Wanted to give us more time to be us — two strangers who met on a road trip and ended up falling in love. Because once we land in Belmont, I’ll become the American girl who stole the crown prince. A few photographers have snapped shots of us together, but thanks to recent drama in the British Royal Family, any that were published have been buried in the headlines.
“Just ignore everything,” Evie suggests with a wave of her hand, pushing a few locks of her vibrant red hair behind her ear.
She and Chloe know personally how brutal celebrity gossip can be. After all, they both work in the magazine industry, Chloe having been on the gossip column herself before being promoted to the current affairs desk.
“Exactly.” Izzy gives me an encouraging smile. “It’s all just noise.”
If anyone’s had a taste of what I’m about to go through, it’s Izzy. Her husband is Asher York, rock god who sells out stadiums nightly. I have no doubt there have been quite a few stories written about the woman married to the man who was once rock ‘n’ roll’s most eligible bachelor. But Izzy’s never cared what anyone thought of her. Although she’s adopted, she grew up with the unwavering support of two loving parents. They never berated her or made her feel like she’ll never measure up. Like she’s a complete failure at everything she does.
Like my mother has always made me feel.
“All that matters is that he chose you,” Evie adds. “That he loves you. That he wants your pussy for the rest of his life.”
I burst out laughing.
This is one of the many reasons these girls are my family, my soul mates. No matter what happens in my life, they have my back.
When I told them I’d agreed to marry my now-ex, Jeremy, after only a few months, they offered their unwavering support, once they made sure it was what I wanted. It wasn’t, but that didn’t make them turn their backs. It only made them support me even more.
When I told them I’d discovered Jeremy in bed with another man, they helped me drown my sorrows in a bottle of wine. Not once did they question what I did to make Jeremy stray, like my mother did. They happily helped me navigate my divorce.
And once my divorce was finalized, they threw me a party to celebrate the next stage of my life. It was at that party they opened my eyes to the fact I married Jeremy to try and patch a wound that still hadn’t healed.
That I was still holding onto Hunter.
That I needed to let him go in order to find the happiness I deserved.
So I set out to do just that. Never did I expect to meet a man like Anderson along the way.
I truly believe some higher power played a hand in our meeting. Knew that we were two lost souls in need of something… In need of each other.
When I glance across the room to where he laughs and jokes with Lincoln, Asher, and Julian, my heart expands. Over the past months, they’ve welcomed him into their fold, treating him like he’s just one of the guys, not the heir to the throne of the European Nation of Belmont.
I hope that doesn’t change.
As if able to sense me staring, his eyes find mine. Every time our gazes lock like this, it feels like the first time I glanced up in a Downtown Chicago diner to see him staring at me. I still feel my surprise when I left the pool at my motel on Route 66 and ran into him…literally. I still feel the awe and wonder when he told me I was beautiful the first time.
It’s these mundane events that will always hold a special place in my heart. The foundation of who we are as a couple. I have to believe these building blocks of our relationship are strong enough to help us navigate the uncertainty of our future.
At least the uncertainty of my future.
Anderson’s future has been written since he was born. I just hope there’s a place in it for me, too.
“Can I have your attention please?” Evie calls out.
I snap my gaze to where she stands in the center of the room, the picture of the perfect hostess.
“It’s not an engagement party without a toast.” She nods at Izzy, who walks around with a tray, offering a glass to everyone, specifying which ones have alcohol and which don’t.
Anderson approaches with two flutes, extending one toward me. “One tiny sip won’t hurt,” he murmurs so no one can hear as I wrap my fingers around the flute.
I nod in agreement. He isn’t a big drinker these days. Not after his doctors recommended avoiding alcohol to help prevent any multiple sclerosis flareups.
“Okay, you love birds,” Chloe teases. “If you can keep your hands off each other for a minute or two, I’d like to say a few words.”
He pulls away, but keeps me in his embrace, a finger tracing a light circle on my bicep. It’s a simple gesture, but it still lights me on fire. It doesn’t help I thought we’d be having sex once we got back here, not walking into a surprise engagement party. Talk about being cock blocked. Or, in my case, clam jammed.
“I met Nora during our freshman year of college,” Chloe begins, a nostalgic smile on her face. “We were both scared. Both in a strange place. Both forced to grow up pretty damn quickly, although the jury’s still out on whether we’ve succeeded in that.”
“Growing up is overrated,” Anderson states with a chuckle.
“I’ll drink to that.” Evie raises her glass but doesn’t take a sip.
“As her roommate,” Chloe continues, “I witnessed a lot of her ups and downs. I was there when she got home from that first date with Hunter. I listened to her gush and swoon over everything he did and said. At the time, I was convinced they were soul mates.” She pauses. “Until she FaceTimed me and told me she’d agreed to travel Route 66 with a complete stranger after her rental car broke down.” Her eyes lock with mine. “You may have just met him, may not have known anything about him, but in those few moments, I knew this was different. Knew this man would change everything. Knew you’d found your true soul mate.”
She smiles at me before clearing her throat and turning to address everyone else once more.
“They say most people fall in love three times during their lifetimes. That each of these loves serves a different purpose.”
>
Evie appears quite pleased by this, considering her obsession with the number three.
“Your first love typically happens when you’re young. Around high school.” Chloe gives me a pointed look, and I know all too well to whom she’s referring.
Now that I’m older, I consider my first love to be Hunter, but before him was Aaron, my high school sweetheart. And the person I was dating when I got a wrong number text from Hunter.
“While this love is more akin to infatuation, you can’t dismiss it altogether. This first love teaches you what love can be. It’s not all-consuming. It’s merely your first exposure to this strange sensation. Think about the ocean. It’s like dipping your toes into the water to test it, but you don’t venture out too far yet.
“Now, your second love is challenging. This is the one that teaches us what a broken heart feels like. Teaches us lessons about life. Makes us stronger. In this second love, there’s great pain.” She swallows hard, her expression falling. “And great loss. But with this love, we grow. We learn more about love. What it’s like to fall in love. What it’s like to lose that love. Because we experienced this second, heartbreaking love, we’re able to figure out who we are and what we want in life. We’re finally ready to experience real love.”
Anderson pulls me closer as I swallow past the lump in my throat over the reminder of Hunter. Of exploding with joy when he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. Of planning our life together. Of losing him and our unborn baby in the car accident I survived.
Of the years I spent wishing I hadn’t.
“And that brings us to the third love.” Her expression and tone brighten. “This is the love that takes you by surprise. Finds you when you least expect it. Probably at a time in your life when love is the last thing you want. You fight it with everything you have. But before you know it, you can’t imagine your life without this person, even though you barely know a thing about them.”
She lifts her gaze to Lincoln, who towers over her by more than a foot. On the outside, they’re as different as two people can be. But outward differences don’t matter where the heart is concerned. I’ve learned that lesson with Anderson.
