* * *
These past three months were the worst of my life, but now that she’s back, I can’t fucking wait to start our lives together.
* * *
* * *
Hours later, we’re curled up on a blanket underneath ‘our’ tree, trying to catch our breath after making love. We meant to go slow, but after one kiss and a few minutes of my fingers in her panties, I’d pushed her dress up, opened my pants, and fucked her hard and fast. If this tree could talk, it would have some crazy stories. Fun stories, sad stories, silly stories and, let’s face it, sexy stories. Second only to the shower or my bed, our blanket under this tree has been our go-to place to make love.
* * *
With her head lying on my shoulder, Vi absently traces circles against my t-shirt. Looking up at me, she bites her lower lip.
* * *
“Ry?”
* * *
Looking down at my girl, I smile. “Yeah baby?”
* * *
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when Uncle Weston died. I didn’t know his heart had gotten that bad. Every time he called and talked to me, he never mentioned it.”
* * *
My head rears back as I look at her in shock. “Baby, what do you mean when he would call you? You were talkin’ to granddaddy while you were away?”
* * *
She twirls a piece of her hair in her fingers as she nods her head. “I was so over stimulated that I didn’t want to talk to anyone for the first month or so, but once I could handle it, I wanted to talk to you first. I called the house, and Uncle Weston told me straight that you were angry. He was angry too, and he told me my grandfather was beside himself. Once I explained everything to him, he was so supportive. He wanted to tell you everything, but I begged him not to. After everything that I had done wrong, I wanted to be the one to tell you why. It was me that owed you that explanation, not anyone else. Uncle Weston was as stubborn as they come, but he understood why it had to be me.
* * *
After that, he called and talked to me for ten minutes or so about once every ten days. I thought he sounded more out of breath than usual the last time he called, but he told me I was being a ‘silly filly’. Since my granddaddy didn’t say anything about his health, I assumed he still had time left. It meant everything to me that he called—and you know how huge that was. Your granddaddy hated the phone almost as much as he hated the Internet, but he told me he wanted the mother of his great-grandchildren to have good things to say about him after he was gone. I didn’t realize that he meant his time was coming. My grandfather didn’t tell me Uncle Weston was gone until he called me the night before Daisy and I flew home. I’m sorry I wasn’t here, Ry.”
* * *
I’m actually stunned and beyond touched that my granddaddy called Vi every week. He really did hate the damn phone, but he had always considered Vi to be his kin. Knowing that he called her, that he never lost faith in either of us, it means the world.
* * *
Leaning forward, I take the piece of hair she’s been playing with and twirl it in my fingers. “It’s okay, baby. Clearly, granddaddy wanted us to be together, and I think that’s amazing. I’m glad he’s not strugglin’ to breathe anymore, but I miss him somethin’ fierce. He must be so damn proud of himself right now for gettin’ us back together. Stubborn old coot always said he knew best.”
* * *
Vi’s laugh before she covers my lips with her own is like music to my ears.
Chapter 7
Our plans for a courthouse wedding are quickly squashed. Instead of having the big wedding, her mother wanted or a courthouse wedding that neither of us did, we choose to get married in the way that we have always wanted to.
* * *
Standing beneath our tree, I watch with tears in my eyes as my fiancée walks toward me. Instead of hundreds of guests, there are just five. Violet’s grandfather, her mother, her stepfather, her sister Daisy, and my Uncle Zeke are the only people we absolutely needed to have here with us today. There is a special guest, though. A chair at my side, in the place a best man would have stood, holds my granddaddy’s urn.
* * *
My palms are sweaty as I shake Uncle Jonah’s hand and take Violet from him. Together we turn and stand in front of the Reverend to say our vows. Each of us speaks clearly and with no hesitation, and when all is said and done, we are officially Ryder and Violet Jennings—just the way we were always meant to be.
* * *
I smile and laugh as we accept congratulations and hugs from the small group, and I even hug Vi’s momma without anger. The woman has her flaws, but she’s the only momma Vi has and someday, she’ll be grandmother to our children. I just pray she's a better grandmother than she's been a mother.
* * *
Our small reception is just perfect for us, right on down to Daisy pullin’ my truck up and playing Violet’s and my song, Blake Shelton’s ‘Mine Would Be You.’ Now more than ever, the words ring true.
* * *
Baby, if I had to choose
My best day ever
My finest hour,
My wildest dream come true
Mine would be you
* * *
After the dance is finished and our little cake is cut, Uncle Zeke and Vi’s granddaddy pull us aside. I’m assuming it’s to gloat about how their plan worked. As far as I am concerned, they can gloat away. What they did worked, and I am thankful.
* * *
Putting one arm around me and one around Vi, Uncle Zeke turns and gives me a smile. “Youngn’s, I got somethin’ to tell ya. That whole will wasn’t worth the paper it was written on. Your granddaddy’s will was written four years ago and it hasn’t changed. He left everything to you and Vi, free and clear.”
* * *
My mouth opens in stunned disbelief for about two seconds before I start laughing. “So the whole thing was a lie?”
* * *
Uncle Jonah lets out a laugh. Gesturing at Uncle Zeke he says, “Before Weston got called home, the three of us came up with what your granddaddy called the fail safe plan. We knew you were still in love with Vi, but we also knew you were angry. Weston knew he wasn’t going to be here to support and help you through your anger, and it was tearin’ him up real bad to think that there was a chance that you two wouldn’t get back together. He commented to Zeke and me that he wished he could make it a rule in his will… and one thing led to another.”
* * *
With Zeke’s arm still around her, Violet turns and gives him a big kiss on the cheek before running into her grandfather’s arms. Over and over again, she says thank you. I’m feelin’ pretty darn emotional myself, so I turn to Zeke and give the old coot a big hug. I’m surprised but happy when he hugs me back—Uncle Zeke’s never been overly affectionate. After we finish hugging, I go right to Uncle Jonah and give him one hell of a thank you hug as well, this hug shared with Vi who is still thanking him for always being there for her.
* * *
* * *
* * *
After everyone has gone and the two of us are walkin’ back to the ranch house hand in hand, we’re both still laughing about how crafty and smart those old men were. That day in Uncle Zeke’s office when he told me the ‘conditions’ of my granddaddy’s will, I thought I was doomed. Now, I see that he saw his one last chance to make sure that Vi and I wound up together and he took it.
* * *
What I was so sure was going to be so hard to handle actually turned out to be the best thing that could have happened.
More on Ella Fox
Violet’s sister Daisy’s book is available to read for FREE in KU: Twist of Fate
* * *
The Charlotte’s Cove Series
Beauty and the Badge
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The Cruz Brothers Series
I Don’t
I Want
I Need
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The Hart Family Series
> Broken Hart
Shattered Hart
Loving Hart
Unbroken Hart
Missing Hart
Finding Hart
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The Renegade Saints (Rockstar Romance) Series
Picture Perfect
Twist of Fate
Between Us
Something to Believe In
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The Retake Duet
On The Way Down
On The Way Back
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The Catch Series
Catch My Fall
Catch and Release
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Standalone Books
Consequences of Deception
All That’s Left to Hold Onto
Strictly Temporary
Disrupt
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Novellas
Sin’s Temptation
Sweet Like Candy
Amber’s Allure
Out of Formation
Until Mallory
Until Twyla
Wheel of Fortune
Rated Ex
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The Love Under the Lights Series *co-written with Rochelle Paige
Gage
Vaughn
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It’s Not Over by Grahame Claire
GRAHAME CLAIRE
* * *
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Chapter 1
DANIEL
* * *
Present
* * *
TIME. An elusive motherfucker of a concept. It deceives us with the illusion that it’s never-ending, when the reality is that our allotment of this most precious commodity is limited. It goes on forever, while we do not.
I’d always been aware of the proverbial ticking clock, each sweep of the hand a not-so-subtle reminder that time was not on my side. And for nearly eight years, I had locked that away, managed to embrace the here and now as opposed to slashing off the minutes with acute consciousness of their finite number. I’d pay for that soon enough, but I would never regret it. The risk had been worth it, though the magnitude of the fallout, once I pressed the detonator and blew up the world as I knew it, remained to be seen.
This particular day came far sooner than I had anticipated. No, I wasn’t going to die. Not today anyway. But I faced something that could no longer be avoided, and might well be much worse.
My bet had been called, and I already knew I’d lost. That’s what eventually happened to selfish pricks like me. I hadn’t grown up to be a good man. I’d done what was best for me at the expense of others, and I didn’t have a conscience. At almost forty-two years old, it was too late for me to form one. That was an inherited trait passed down by dear old Dad. As much as I’d done everything in my power to avoid ending up like him, it’s what had happened anyway. The fucker.
Even from the grave, that son of a bitch was determined to make my life a living hell. Good always prevails over evil, my ass. I shoved the file I’d been looking at away and plowed a hand through my hair.
For the second time in my life, I wished for a different path than the one I’d been destined to take. The first time had proved futile; this would be no different. I’d known I wouldn’t be able to hold on to the best thing in my life, so why the hell did I feel like my heart was about to beat out of my chest?
Preparation was the key to every success I’d had, and today was no different. Despite being in the middle of desperate ground, I was prepared, and I intended to win. I also had the element of surprise going in my favor, but even that felt hollow. Victory would in essence be defeat.
There were two women in my life that were more important to me than anything. They had wormed their way inside me, made me feel as if I actually had a heart. One of them had come to me after years of surviving on my own. She’d forced me out of solitude, been the only person who truly needed me. The other owned me completely. Without the first, I never would have had the second. Both of them had shown me the true meaning of family. Of unconditional love. Of what it meant to be a part of something bigger than myself.
What I had to do would hurt them, wreck them really, but in the end, I was saving them both from the misery that lay ahead. I would do what was best for them, even though it might kill me.
The red light on the security system panel lit up, alerting me that the front door had opened. I rolled my shoulders back, inhaled a lungful of air and released it, and then pretended to focus on what was on the desk. This would not go well.
* * *
The familiar sound of heels clicking on the hardwood floors didn’t bring the sense of comfort I’d grown used to. Today, it was more like the final seconds clicking off the countdown clock in my head.
Time’s up.
Chapter 2
VIVIAN
* * *
Present
* * *
“CATCH YA LATER, PAUL.”
The doorman of my Warren Street apartment building tipped his hat.
“The wife’s baking cookies tonight,” he said as the elevator doors threatened to cut off our conversation.
I thrust out my hand from inside the car to stop them. “The fudge ones? With icing in the middle?”
“That’s the ones.” He pointed at me, and I grinned. “Don’t give mine away before I come down.”
“You got it.”
The elevator doors closed, and I rested my head on the mirrored back wall, tempted to slip the stilettos off my aching feet. Today had been good. The new shelter for abused women and children had finally come to fruition after two years of planning. It was beautiful and practical. I’d made certain we’d been fiscally responsible, the result being that we’d come in on time and under budget.
I was encouraged for the future of the women I’d grown to care for. Paths of Purpose had become important to me over the years, giving me a real sense of purpose.
The elevator doors opened on the thirty-second floor, directly into the marbled private lobby of our apartment. I used the front door to prop up my tote and dug through the chaos for keys. Once inside, I tossed the keys onto the console table, and stopped short, hand frozen in mid-air.
There, in the usually immaculate foyer, were trunks and suitcases and bags, stacked as if ready for removal.
I forged on toward the bedroom, needing to get more comfortable before beginning an investigation into the mess by the front door.
As I passed the study, a spectacular grin broke out across my face at the sight of my beautiful boyfriend. He was regally positioned at the desk, Tribeca and the Hudson River spread out in the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him. I paused in the doorway, admiring one of my favorite rooms and the man in it. Two leather chairs the color of a worn saddle were positioned in front of the desk, framed nicely by the dark wood paneling of the walls. A matching sofa faced the fireplace. But it was the man behind the desk who made the space.
His broad frame filled out my favorite three-piece black suit, the black tie knotted around his neck as fresh as when I’d tied it for him this morning. I ran my eyes over his face. Even after nearly eight years together, the sight of him still made my heart beat faster. There was simply no getting used to Daniel Elliott.
"What are you doing home so early?" He’d flown to Washington, DC this morning to meet with one of the sitting senators. I hadn’t asked the purpose, because most of the time I trusted his judgment that the less I knew about his business, the better. His early arrival home meant one of two things: it had gone extremely well, or it hadn’t.
I hurried across the room to give him a kiss, my lips already tingling in anticipation, but I only made it to the edge of the desk before he gruffly ordered me to sit.
The glow I felt quickly faded. He knew better than to take that tone with me, but I let it go for the moment. "What's with all the bags in the hallway? Are you going somewhere?" I said lightly, still smiling despite my nerves. When he didn’t respond right away, didn’t even glance up fr
om what he was doing, I obeyed, for once, sinking into a seat with the desk a barrier between us.
He snapped the file in front of him shut. I flinched. His knuckles were white as he clenched the edge of the folder and stuffed it into the cabinet under his desk. The lock clicked in place with a decisive turn of the key, the sound setting me on edge.
"No. Those are your belongings." He gazed at me stoically, his onyx eyes cold and distant.
"Mine?" I asked dumbly. "It's over."
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