“I understand. Just try to keep your head up, Tristan. It will get better.”
“Thanks Nat. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay, bye.”
My sister, she was kind of the best. Sometimes. I honestly didn’t know what I would do without her. I couldn’t talk to mom about it because she wouldn’t really understand. Her and dad didn’t jump through any hoops to be together.
I kept willing my phone to ring. For Emilia to text me. Anything.
But like every night since Emilia left me in that room, it never did.
Chapter Thirty
Emilia
I wanted to call or text him every day.
I should never have said those things to him at the wedding. It wasn’t his fault I wanted to be with him. Or that I still do.
I loved him so much it killed me more every day. And I think that’s why I couldn’t talk to him. I don’t deserve him. I blamed him when he didn’t even do anything wrong. I blamed him for loving me and after all he has been through, he definitely didn’t deserve that.
I buried myself in work and sometimes that made it worse.
I had referral sheets for every new client, to see where my marketing was going well, and they have all said Tristan Cox under family and friends. He was sending me so many clients, I had the upfront to get a new space and cater to those new clients, all because of him.
My shop was bigger, and while I still grew a lot of the flowers myself, I started outsourcing.
Ivy helped me a lot. She even quit her job to go into marketing and advertising, and I helped boost her resume by having her work for me.
She still loved fashion, but she loved the brains behind making it work even more. She planned on running her own runway shows one day. For the time being she organized everything but the flowers. I would have welcomed the distraction, but every time I looked at a check book I thought of Tristan and I burst into tears.
I had been crying a lot, you’d think I would have run out of tears. But I still cried myself to sleep every night. I’d wake up with swollen eyes and cry through breakfast because I saw all of his missed calls. He hadn’t stopped calling.
When I answered that weird number, I heard his voice and freaked out. I couldn’t talk to him because I felt stupid.
I was stupid to think I could have him. I came home every night, thinking we could be having dinner together. We could be sleeping in the same bed, we could be having breakfast, fighting over the shower and then end up sharing before going off to work. Texting each other and falling more and more in love every day. I was stupid, and I couldn’t face him.
So, I distracted myself with work and the business got bigger than I could have ever imagined, for that I was happy. I wanted to make my mother proud. I wanted to beg for Tristan’s forgiveness, but he was such a good man, I know he wasn’t even angry. But he should have been.
He never even left any angry voicemails.
Emilia, I just want to talk to you. Please call me back.
I want to know that you are doing okay. How are you? Call me back.
I miss you. And I still love you. We can still try and make this work.
Emilia, I’m sorry. Please call me back.
I still love you. I still want you.
Please, this doesn’t have to end.
He wasn’t mad. He was hurt. He didn’t chase women. I hated myself for driving him mad like this and I didn’t know how to fix it.
“Emilia, we have to be there in twenty minutes!”
Ivy had a key to my place and started letting herself in. I was going to an annual flower convention downtown. Its main purpose was to book companies like mine for different gigs. I hoped to build our clientele there. All the people Tristan sent me had started to die down.
“Coming!”
I covered my red eyes with eyeliner and fixed my dress. I forced myself to wear this bright green sundress when all I wanted was to wear sweats and eat ice cream. At first, I ate a bunch of junk food, now I just ate little to nothing. My clothes were fitting looser. I remembered how much Tristan loved my body, he would barely recognize me now.
“Okay, let’s go.” Ivy eyed me warily. She could tell I had been crying. She knew me well.
She drove us downtown and we started setting up. The tables were already there so all we had to do was decorate. She made a really nice tablecloth with my logo on it. The business cards and portfolio were set out and we sat behind the table, watching the room fill up with other vendors.
“You were crying this morning.” She commented. I shrugged.
“Yeah. As usual.”
“Honey, why don’t you call him? He isn’t mad. You can fix this.” She clasped my hand.
I shook my head, taking a deep breath to keep from crying.
“I can’t. There is nothing I can do without making a fool of myself. Let’s just focus on this, please.”
She nodded. “The flowers will be here soon.”
I nodded. I checked the ad I had put out on Facebook. It got a lot of likes, so I felt like a lot of people would show. But there was competition. Everyone in the room was just as good, if not better.
A few minutes later, a service trolley rolled in with a beautiful array of buttercups and baby’s breath. I smiled, my favorite. Then it headed right towards us.
“Are you Emilia Michelle?” The sweet old delivery man stopped in front of our table.
“Yes, but I ordered a tulip and rose arrangement.” It was my best arrangement, it always sold people on my work. But I didn’t order this.
“Well, I have your order here.” His graying brows rose as he handed me the tablet. Sure, enough the order was there with my name.
Ivy looked over my shoulder. “I made the order myself.” She said.
“It has this message with it.” The man leaned into one of the pots and handed me a card.
I opened the card.
Your mother would want you to be brave. You already have been, but now you need to take a chance. With me. Please call me. If you love me, you’ll call.
-Tristan.
My tears flowed hot and heavy. He was right. Mom would want me to go after love, and I did love him. I was barely aware of Ivy signing for the flowers and the delivery man leaving. I wiped my tears quickly, so I could look more presentable.
“Let me see.” I gave the card to her.
She read it and smiled.
“See? The man loves you to death Emilia. Stop hurting him.” Ivy said sternly.
She was right. I shouldn’t hurt him anymore.
But I couldn’t leave the event.
“I’ll call him after. I swear.” She narrowed her eyes at me but left me be.
The event went smoothly. I talked to so many people, and left with eleven new bookings, all spread out for the next four months. It was amazing. Ivy and I decided to do these events every chance we got.
“That was awesome.” She said as we packed up.
“You go call him! I’ll clean up.” I protested, but she held up her hand effectively stopped me.
I sighed but stepped off to a quiet corner to call him. It only rang twice.
“Emilia?”
I gasped at the sound of his voice. Deep and husky, but sad. It was all because of me.
“Hi, Tristan.” My voice croaked. I heard him inhale sharply on the other line. He was surprised. He thought I didn’t love him.
“You love me?” He breathed. I laughed through my hot tears.
“Yes. So much. Tristan, I am so sorry. For everything I said, I never meant to hurt you. And I did. I shouldn’t have blamed you.” I rambled.
I wished he were here to hold me. To wipe my tears away. But for now, I would settle for his voice falling over me. I had missed it so much. It wasn’t the same over voicemail.
“It’s okay baby doll, it’s in the past. I was never mad at you. I just wanted a chance.” He replied.
“I should have given you one. I was stupid. I’m so sorry.”
&
nbsp; “Don’t apologize, I’m not angry. I’m just glad you called.”
“You still love me?” I asked him. He chuckled softly.
“Are you kidding? Of course, I love you, always.”
“I—I want to see you.” I said.
“Come outside.”
“What?” I looked around. Was he here?
“Come outside.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. I walked out through the back and crossed the alley way.
He was there, leaning against his car. I ran towards him like a mad woman, calling out his name until he saw me. He greeted me with that big, perfect smile of his. I collided into him, the warmth and hardness of his body meeting mine as he wrapped me in his arms. The smell of pine and soap invaded my senses, I had missed it so much. My hands were everywhere on him until they landed on his hair, latching him to me as he kissed me.
My soul relaxed as my body melted into his. I parted my lips, they moved with him in perfect unison. God, I missed him.
“How long have you been waiting?” I asked him.
“A few hours.” His green eyes smoldered into mine. It was everything I needed.
“You waited that long to see me?”
“Baby doll, I will always wait for you. Always.”
Epilogue
I was living a real-life fairytale.
The last four months had been hard. I was drowning in work, Tristan was too. Sometimes he was home late, and then me. But we always ended up in bed together at the end of the night. I moved in with him almost immediately after that flower convention.
We snuck our time in.
Sometimes at breakfast like I imagined, before bed. Over lunch breaks. But for the past few weeks it had finally slowed down, and I could have more time, and his staff was getting bigger, so he didn’t have to be at the forefront of everything.
He insisted in taking me away for a weekend, to celebrate our success. I had no events coming up, and Ivy was taking care of everything else. So, I packed a weekend bag with plenty of lingerie and waited for him as asked.
He got home around noon on that Friday and changed quickly before we left.
“Where are we going?” I asked him. The rev of his Tesla was quiet, I sunk into the leather seat. His hand trailed the bare skin of my leg in my dress. I couldn’t wait to get him into a bed. Or anywhere. We hadn’t had sex in almost two weeks, it was odd for us.
“To my cabin on the lake. You’ll like it.” He smirked and turned back to the road.
The drive was quick, and we pretty much ran inside. We were undressed in seconds, and on the couch naked in four more. When he slipped inside of me it felt like home.
“I missed you.”
I wondered if he was talking to my boobs or me. Maybe both. He wasted no time, thrusting into me with the fury of all the time we had missed together. I cried out, we were in the middle of nowhere, so it wasn’t like anyone could hear us.
“Tristan, yes!” I came, hard and loud as I clenched around him.
He collapsed against me as he came soon after. We caught our breaths until we ended up falling asleep.
I woke up alone though and confused. I yawned and tugged on his shirt left behind on the couch. I rubbed my eyes and felt something cold on my skin. I looked at my hands and was utterly confused. Because there was a huge solitaire diamond on my ring finger.
“What the…”
I jumped up, off to search for Tristan.
“Tristan! Tristan!”
He wasn’t inside. Was I confused? Seeing things? No, I kept checking and it was still there. It felt like it belonged there, but what the hell was going on.
Finally, I found him out on the deck in front of the grill. He was deliciously shirtless, wearing sweats as he flipped burgers.
“Tristan.”
I went up to him, he dropped the spatula and turned to me with a smile.
“Hey, sleepy head.” He kissed me, but I pulled away confused.
“What is this?” I held up my left hand.
“A hand.” I swatted him, and he laughed. “It’s a ring, do you like it?”
He held my waist.
“Yes, it’s beautiful but…what—why is it on me?” I asked frantically.
“Because I didn’t want to give you the chance to say no…I want you to marry me, Emilia.”
I gasped. Tears flooded my eyes. I was elated. I was freaking out. And I didn’t know which emotion to feel first.
“You…you want to marry me?” I choked out.
He laughed, “Yes. Of course I do. Do you want to marry me?”
I nodded slowly.
“Like, right now?” I looked around, checking if there was a pastor hiding or something.
“No, soon. Or however long you want to wait. Let’s just not wait ten years like Levi and Gab.”
I giggled softly.
“Yes. Yes, I will marry you.” I whispered, and he pulled me into him.
His kiss lit up my whole body. Giving me everything I had missed and hoped for. I wondered how anything could ever be this perfect. That entire weekend, I don’t think we ever left the bed or put clothes on.
~
Planning a wedding was so much easier when it wasn’t mine or decorating it at least. It took me seven tries to get the arrangement exactly how I wanted it. Buttercups and lilacs don’t necessarily go together, so it was hard to mix it in. But I was determined to have both our favorite flowers. I mellowed the color difference with baby’s breath and white roses. The azaleas helped too.
I finally got it right and could focus on other things. Ivy designed my dress from scratch, a beautiful dress very similar to the one I wore at the ball. The only difference was it was white.
“You, look amazing.” Ivy looked over me in the mirror.
The big day was finally here. Because of our work schedule, it did take a year to finally make it to the altar, but it was perfect.
“Thank you and thank you so much for making it.” I hugged her tight. She looked beautiful in her light purple gown as well. I was so lucky to have a friend like her.
“Can you help me with the train? I need to check the flowers.” She rolled her eyes but helped me with it.
“I have never seen a bride arranging her own flowers.” Ivy commented as I worked on the altar arrangement. I did hire someone, but I tweaked it just a little bit.
We had a beautiful arch way of buttercups and lilacs we would stand under when we said our vows. I couldn’t wait.
Our relationship was quite the struggle. It took me a month to even find him that first time. And another to let him love me. But I was so ready to marry him.
As I stood across from him at the altar; it all came into focus.
He wasn’t a prince. But he sure was my Mr. Charming.
Baby For The Mountain Man
A Mountain Man Secret Baby Romance
By Nicole Elliot
Hi Kittens!
This mountain man is broody and done with love.
Until Ava shows up on his doorstep.
I hope you love it!
xxx
Nicole
One
Ava
“Miss? Miss, can you hear me?”
The voice sounded so far away. It was hard to hear past the torrential downpouring of rain and the running rivers in the middle of the mountains. All I wanted was to get away. To step out of my car in the middle of somewhere untainted with my unhappiness and take a breath. It was stifling, being around my family. And I was done with all of it.
“Come here. I’ve got you.”
Strong arms wrapped around me and lifted me up, while rain battered down on my shaking body. I was so damn cold. Where was my car? How did I get here? Where in the world was I?
“Holy fuck, you’re freezing.”
The voice was low. Rumbling. Like tires over a gravel driveway or the thunder off in the distance. I could see a mass of dark hair, soaked to an angular face that I couldn’t quite make out. I wanted to answer the
man. To tell him I was fine and that I just needed to get back to my car.
But the only thing I could do was tremble with the cold.
I didn’t know how long we walked and I had no idea where I was. I tried to lift my hand and cling to the body that carried me, but instead I laid there. Limp in his arms. My entire body hurt. My skin was cold. My head was heavy, and my heart was alone, and my future seemed bleak. Running away from home wasn’t supposed to end this way. I was supposed to make it to California. I was supposed to start my new life. I was supposed to travel long enough to get away from my family’s traditional grasp, so I could dictate whatever it was I wanted from my life.
I didn’t want to live off their money and sit like a pretty little peach. I wanted to live.
I wanted to thrive in my life. Not survive. I didn’t want to wear the dresses and put on the makeup and live in the heels. I didn’t care about business transactions and marrying young and filling a house with children. All I wanted was to live my life on my terms, to wake up in the morning and have an actual smile on my face.
But instead, I was stifled. I was expected to smile for the cameras and act a certain way. My father dictated every moment of my life in order to be the daughter he always envisioned he would have. It was sickening, and I hated it. He dictated my fashion sense, my schedule, and my future. I was to woo a well-to-do man, marry young, bear him children, and keep his house. I was to bring honor to the family name by allowing the money my father had garnered over the years to take care of me.
Like living off my father’s bank accounts was somehow honorable.
And every time I fought back, I was called selfish. Ungrateful. Unforgivable. Every time I voiced a different opinion or picked out a different outfit, I was called unruly. Every time I denied a blind date or intentionally screwed one up or refused to go to whatever formal function my father had roped me into, I was the wild one. I couldn’t be myself unless it was the image my father had painted for me from the time he found out I was a girl.
And I hated every second of it.
“We gotta get you warmed up.”
That voice peeled me from my thoughts. Pulled me from my memories and reminded me of the present. My body shook uncontrollably as my back descended onto something. It was warm and soft, like a couch, or possibly a massive chair. I curled up into a ball as my teeth began to chatter, and I grunted with the pain in my stomach. It felt like my muscles were on fire even though they were encased in ice. It was as if someone was stabbing me with eight-inch icicles in every pressure point of my body
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