by Shauna Allen
She kissed me again. “I told you . . . you’re already forgiven. I love you and that’s part of the deal. Just try to limit your stupidity. Even I have my limits.”
I laughed, my lips against her throat. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
Her mouth met mine with a quiet urgency that had been building between us since the first time we touched. I swallowed her moan and cupped her hips, drawing her closer. Now that I’d given myself permission to let her in, I couldn’t get her close enough.
She tugged at my shirt and ripped it over my head, running her soft hands all over me as our lips and tongues fused. She was sweeter than oxygen and I needed to consume her.
I drew her back to the bedroom and yanked off the rest of our clothes until we were skin to skin and heart to heart.
Her hooded eyes met mine in the dark, our bodies poised. I took a moment to memorize the lines and curves of the face that had miraculously brought life back to me. Her body was as familiar to me as my own, but tonight was different. I knew after this I’d never be able to let her go.
She reached between us, grazing my abs to grip me. “Please,” she begged.
I ducked my head to the sweet crook between her throat and shoulder as emotion overcame me. My body was taut above her soft, pliant one, but the heat between us couldn’t dissipate her plea. She wanted my body as much as she was pleading for my heart.
I let her guide my body into hers, a growl trapped in my throat.
We moved together, silent but for our breathing and moans. I was driven by the need to see her come apart for me. I needed it as much as I needed air in that moment.
She was gasping my name as she convulsed around me and I cradled her hips, urging her to take me deeper as my body sought its own feverish release.
“I love you,” I whispered. “God, I love you so much.”
“I know,” she murmured back.
I kissed away her smile and continued to move with her. Then Heaven found me in one brilliant, earth-shattering moment and I finally gave up my beating heart to her safekeeping.
Trace
A little more than a year later . . .
“Merry Christmas!” Ryder proclaimed loudly as he opened the front door of the condo to let Blake, Molly, and a very pregnant Delilah inside, along with a gust of frigid winter air.
I kissed Delilah’s cheek. “Merry Christmas.”
“Same to you. Jesse and Rachel are right behind us.”
I nodded to Blake and ushered them inside, watching at the door for my friend. Rachel stood behind him as he unlatched the car seat of their daughter, Avery. Baby in one hand, Jesse tucked his wife close and started my way with a smile.
“The gang’s all here,” I said, indicating everyone behind me, including Micah, Jewel, and Tori.
Jesse and Rachel shuffled inside and the women immediately congregated in a corner, oohing over babies and pregnant bellies while the guys moved to the food spread. I watched Tori smile with her hand pressed to Delilah’s stomach.
Since the night I’d groveled and made things right between us, that was it. We were together and I had no plans to let her get away from me. I wanted her to move in, but she refused, not wanting to confuse Ryder. Her love for my son only made me love her more. After a long talk with Ry, we were going to make it official. I couldn’t wait for her to open the gift I had tucked away in her stocking for Christmas morning.
Ryder’s happiness was still my priority, but I’d never seen him happier. Tori was his mother now for all intents and purposes, and now that the paperwork was final and he was 100% mine, Kristi was just an unfortunate blip on his radar. She hadn’t even bothered calling or writing to check on him since her failed kidnapping attempt, though I’m not sure what I would’ve said to her if she had.
Thank you for giving me my son, but fuck off?
I forgive you?
I felt sorry for her and all she was missing with Ryder, but thanks to Tori, he wasn’t missing out on anything anymore.
I caught her eye across the room and winked. She smiled, her face broadcasting her love.
I love you, she mouthed.
I know, I mouthed back.
Her smile grew.
I couldn’t wait one more second to touch her, girl talk be damned. I bypassed everyone and made a beeline for her. I swallowed her surprise as I tugged her into a hug. I wanted her, yes, but I also knew she needed me. She’d been a trooper for the past several months as her mom battled cancer thousands of miles away. She had flown out to California to visit as often as she could, and she was thankfully able to be there to hold her mom’s hand when the end finally came.
I flew out for the funeral last month and even as life went on, and her sisters appeared to be doing okay, I knew Tori was still heartbroken. Relationships are complicated, and theirs was certainly no exception, but in the end they were mother and daughter and that had been forever ripped from Tori’s life.
And there was nothing I could do but love her through her grief.
She drew back in my arms, a knowing gleam in her stormy eyes. I’d do anything to keep pain from her and she knew it.
“Seriously, guys,” Micah piped up behind us. “Get a room.”
I frowned at my friend, who was belly down on my living room rug with all the kids. “It’s my house. I’ll kiss my woman if I want to.”
His eyes darted to Jewel and back, then he turned back to the baby. It was probably too quick for anyone else to notice, but I did. He’d been watching her since the moment they met, but even more so now that the serial rapist, who’d attacked three more blondes, hadn’t been caught yet. Micah was protective by nature, but this was more than friendly concern, and he was horrible at hiding his roving eyes.
Blake plopped down next to Micah and swooped his daughter into his lap. “So, we gonna sing Christmas carols, or what?”
Ryder peered up, excitement making his face glow. “Yeah, Daddy. Let’s sing.”
The tradition of singing carols as loudly and horribly as possible had originated several years ago after a few too many drinks, and it had become everyone’s favorite thing.
I nodded and moved to crank up the tunes as everyone gathered around. The women made sure everyone had drinks as I found my CDs. Ryder chose “I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas” first.
I tucked Tori into the crook of my arm on the couch as we sang the night away, and I knew I could never be happier.
Okay, I lied.
There are oceans of happiness in this world, and as I held a naked Tori in my arms on Christmas morning, I was drowning.
I kissed her shoulder. “I love you.”
“Mmmm,” she murmured sleepily. “Love you.”
“Merry Christmas, baby.” I nuzzled my nose into her neck, inhaling the sweet honey scent I couldn’t get enough of.
She sighed and rolled over, letting my mouth have its way with her. “Do you want your present?” I asked, my lips between her breasts.
“Aren’t we waiting for Ryder to wake up?” She gasped as I found her hipbone. “Santa and all?”
“Don’t worry. Santa left some presents for you under the tree. I’m talking about my gift to you.”
“Yeah?”
I ran my hand up her sides. “Yeah.”
“Okay.” She flipped so she was straddling my hips. “I have one for you, too.”
“Awesome. Is it a car?”
She smacked my arm playfully. “No. Mine better not be either.”
I rolled my eyes. Betsy and I had developed a love-hate relationship. I mostly hated her, but Tori loved her so I kept her up and running. “One of these days you’ll let me buy you a new car, but no. Not today.”
“All right.”
I stared up at her as she grew serious, her eyes searching mine. “I love you, you know that, right?” she said, her teeth worrying her lip.
“Yes.”
“I mean, I really love you and I’d never do anything to hurt you or make your life harder, or—”
“Tori.” She froze, midsentence. “What is this all about, baby?”
“I’m scared you’ll hate your present.”
“Why would I hate my present?”
“Well . . .” Tears filled her eyes. “It’s not really a present.”
“Okaaaay. I’m confused.”
“It’s not really a present, so much as a baby.”
She shifted to roll off of me, but I grabbed her and held her in place. “A baby?”
“Yes.”
“Like, as in . . . ?”
“I’m pregnant. A baby.” A tentative smile drifted across her lips. “Our baby.”
I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t comprehend. A baby?
“Are you upset?” she finally asked, her eyes worried.
“I . . .” I focused on my feelings. “Well . . . no.”
“You’re sure? I don’t want you to think . . . I didn’t plan this, I swear, and if you’re not happy about it, we can figure out—”
“Stop.” Her eyes snapped to mine and I hated that she was so scared. I hated that my past made her question me. “Are you upset?” I turned her question back to her.
Her brows scrunched up, obviously not expecting my question.
“Well? Are you?” I prompted, the idea growing on me, filling my chest with light.
She looked me directly in the eye. “No. I’m not.”
“Me either.”
“Really?”
“Really.” I caressed her hips, studied her still flat stomach. My baby was growing inside of her and this time I’d get to be a part of every single second.
“Really?” she asked again, her voice squeaky.
I tipped my hips so she fell into a heap next to me. I kissed the tip of her nose and rolled from bed. Ignoring her huff behind me, I tugged on my pajama pants and loped to the living room.
I took in the quiet Christmas morning all around me. We’d left the radio on all night, the soft sounds of carols still filling the air, along with the scent of cinnamon from Tori’s attempt at cookies, and the smell of a fresh evergreen. Lights twinkled softly from the tree, bathing the still dark room like starlight. I knew Ry would be up soon, excited to see what Santa had brought, but I was thankful for this moment alone with Tori to decide our future.
At the small fireplace, I plucked her stocking off the mantle. For so many years, it had only been mine and Ryder’s stockings hanging there. Tori’s addition seemed right after all that time, and I grinned as I realized next year, there’d be one more.
“Trace?”
I spun around at Tori’s soft voice to find her huddled in my robe across the room, a million questions in her eyes.
She slowly walked my way, skirting the pile of gifts. “You okay?”
“I’m more than okay.” I handed her the stocking. “See for yourself.”
A confused frown marred her face as she peeked inside. She thrust her hand into her stocking and fished around, finally pulling out the small velvet box. Her eyes flew to mine. “What’s this?”
“Your gift.” I smiled. “The one I bought weeks ago, just in case you were wondering.”
Her hands trembled as she stared at the box in her palm.
“Open it.”
With a deep breath, she flipped open the lid to see the one and a half carat sparkler I’d picked out for her. Her free hand flew to her mouth. “What . . . is this . . . ?” Tears began spilling down her cheeks.
I gently pried the box from her hand and plucked the ring from its satin lining. I knelt in front of her and peered up into her eyes. She was openly crying now, her eyes and nose red. She’d never been more beautiful to me.
“Tori Waters, I love you. More than I ever thought possible. I want you in my life, I want you as Ryder’s mother . . .” I placed a hand to her belly. “I want you to be the mother to all my children.” I bowed my head, overcome and not sure I could find the right words. The speech I’d rehearsed a zillion times now didn’t feel right. “I was lost without you, baby. I had no idea what was even missing in my life until you came along and filled the empty spaces.” I looked up again, hoping my face said it all. This love was it. It was forever for me. “I don’t care if you’re pregnant, if you have a dozen babies, if you can’t have any . . . I only want to marry you.”
Silence pulsed heavily. Finally, she whispered, “A dozen?”
I bit back my smile. “Whatever you want.”
Her brows lifted. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Okay.” She grinned and held out her left hand.
I slid the ring on and kissed her knuckle before I rose and tugged her to me, her head resting in its spot at the crook of my shoulder.
“For the record . . .” She tilted her head to mine. “I told you I’d make you fall madly in love with me.”
I laughed. “You did? I don’t re—”
She kissed me soundly, silencing my smartass reply.
“Ah, I remember now.”
And I’d remember it for the rest of my life.
Dear Reader,
Thank you, thank you, thank you for sharing your time with me and the boys of Jack ‘Em Up! I’m humbled by the response my guys are getting and the love I’ve been shown. As always, your honest reviews are SO appreciated. Those are the lifeblood of any author and I send you virtual hugs and squeezes for sharing your opinion with others.
This book was truly a joy and a heartache to write. If you know any of my personal story, you know I lost my own mother last year to stage IV lung cancer. Though I changed many of the details of her battle, I did dig deep into my own emotional struggles to write Tori’s story. If you know me at all, you know I don’t shy away from writing the “tough” stuff like disease, abuse, drug use, divorce, infertility, teen pregnancy, and a wealth of other emotional issues. And while it is all fiction, if you’re struggling with any of the issues that my characters deal with, I offer you my love and encourage you to seek professional help if you need it.
As for what’s next for me, I will leave you with a little snippet of the next and final book in this series, Rev. I know many of you are eagerly awaiting Micah’s story, and honestly, so am I. Please be on the lookout for his upcoming release date in spring 2016. You can keep up with all my news and lots of other fun stuff with my Angel Kisses Newsletter.
Lastly, I’d like to invite you to visit my website for all my social media links. I adore hearing from my readers and I’d love to keep up with you. Don’t forget to also check out my Shauna’s Angels Street Team and the awesomeness that is Divas, Ink.
Thank you for reading. I hope you loved it!
Big Hugs,
~S.
xo
Thank You, Heavenly Father, for the journey. I am blessed.
Big love and squishy hugs to my husband, my All Purpose Babe, my Tech Support and my Business Partner. You are truly my best friend.
To My Favorite Airman, my Princess Peach, and my Babydoll. I love you more than you will ever know and I’m so proud to be your mother.
To my parents, my mother in Heaven and my father still here to grieve with me . . . lalu.
Jan Nash, Susan Muller, Selena Laurence, Sharla Lovelace, and Jamie Farrell, you ladies are my best friends in this writing world and out. Thank you a million times over for all you do.
Kimberly Dawn, you are the best assistant a girl could ask for. Thank you is simply not enough.
To all my wonderful friends over on my Shauna’s Angels Street Team and Divas, Ink, you ladies R-O-C-K!
Also, a big shout out to Amy Higgison for naming Everett for me. Sometimes it’s all in the details.
And, lastly, to every reader, reviewer, blogger, and Beta Babe who helped shape and support this and all my books. You are worth your weight in gold. Thank you!
Rev: Jack ‘Em Up Book IV
Micah and Jewel’s story . . .
Micah
The nightmares were always the same. The ear-splitting boom of tank fire. The acrid
smell of smoke. Blazing heat. The ominous whizz, then silence, then slam of RPGs. The staccato rat-tat-tat of machine gun fire ripping overhead. The sticky tastes of sweat and fear, coating my tongue. The utter and complete darkness. God, the darkness. A blacker than black, hopeless kind of darkness. The kind that promised you’d never return home.
Grim Reaper darkness.
Then the screaming.
A primal noise. It is the truth of agony. The truth of terror. The truth of death.
Men don’t scream like that, but I heard it, over and over and over, reverberating painfully through my skull, making me wish I had died, too.
I wake up with my heart pounding, my muscles tight, my body drenched in sweat that smells of panic and pain, the names of my fallen friends sealed on my lips, as if my mantra had the power to resurrect them from the grave. Yet, I am always alone, paying my penance in solitude. The way it should be.
Today, as the last vestiges of the dream leave me in a fog, I roll to sitting and stare at the hazy light of morning that filters into my tent. I’ve come to this isolated state park in a last-ditch effort to chase my demons away without an audience, but so far I’m failing miserably.
I unzip the tent flap and step out into the warmth of the late spring morning, stretching my arms up to the sun. My dog tags clank across my chest and I grip them in my fist. They live shoved in my dresser drawer at home, but I dug them out this weekend, hoping that by some miracle, the bloody memories of Martinez and Franks would wash away and let me be.
As I dug through my pack for a water bottle and granola, it hit me again that it was all a fantasy. How could I have peace when I didn’t deserve forgiveness?
I was a murderer.
That thought spurred me into action like a razor-edged whip. I took off in a dead run down one of the heavily wooded trails. I climbed up the slope of a rocky ledge to stare out at the Texas landscape. Beautiful in both its soft and hard edges, I was swallowed up, invisible, as I looked down at the sheer vastness of the earth. Sweat rolled down my face and beaded on my lip, my breathing ragged as I sucked in air.
