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Be My Reason: A BWWM Romance (Make It Marriage Book 10)

Page 19

by Nia Arthurs


  Thankfully, the little girl doesn’t seem to mind that I’m running behind.

  “Brenna!” She greets me with a hug.

  “You look pretty.” I admire her ladybug skirt and frilly top. “I wonder who bought that for you.”

  She giggles. “My grampa did.”

  “Yes, he did.” I jut my chin down.

  Heath scowls, but he doesn’t interrupt us.

  Since the kidnapping, Heath hasn’t allowed Glory to see his dad, but he has been making some allowances. They can exchange letters and he can also shuttle over gifts through Kastle, who seems non-too-pleased to be his dad’s delivery man.

  But no one complains, even if they’re uncomfortable. Glory forgiving her grandfather makes everyone around her put in the effort to at least try and get along with him too.

  “You ladies have fun.” Heath kisses her forehead. And then he straightens and kisses my lips. “I’m serious about tonight.”

  “I hope you’re talking about arcade games, Jameson.”

  His sexy grin sends a shiver of delight down my spine.

  “Come on, Brenna!” Glory drags me out the door.

  We catch a taxi to Brew Drop where all the Make It Marriage women have gathered. They greet me with hugs, kisses and a giant banner that reads ‘Congrats On The Win’.

  I laugh when Kaelyn pops confetti over my head and yells, “Are you ready to get fat on brownies?”

  “Yes, please,” Glory says brightly.

  Venus winks at me when I sit down. “Someone’s glowing. Heath must be taking good care of you.”

  “Well, if he takes care of her the way he takes care of his daughter, I think she’s in really good hands.” Kayla smiles at me.

  “That wasn’t the care I was referring to.” Venus winks wickedly.

  “Come on, Venus.” Amina throws her hands over Glory’s ears. “There are children present.”

  “I didn’t say anything they could understand.” She lifts her arms in surrender.

  Amina laughs uproariously.

  Tierra shakes her head. “I’m glad the city council gave you another chance, Brenna.”

  I dip my head in thanks.

  Asia teases me. “You ever think of running track? The way you tore out of that building reminded me of Usain Bolt…”

  I laugh softly. “I’m not athletic at all, but there was nothing more important to me in that moment so I kind of grew wings.” I glance at Glory. “I’m happy it all worked out.”

  “It shows.” Kayla squeezes my hand.

  The bell over the door rings at that moment and a woman with short hair and a firm expression walks in. She slips her shades over her head and her eyes sweep the room casually until they land on me.

  I freeze. “Amelia?”

  She frowns and starts to walk away, intending to ignore me, when a little voice pipes up, “Grandma!”

  Amelia blanches. “Grandma?”

  Glory vaults over my lap and scrambles to Amelia. Without a moment of hesitation, she throws her arms around the cold woman’s legs and hugs her. “Hi.”

  “H-hi.” Amelia squirms.

  Glory sticks out her hand. “I’m Glory. I’m eight years old. I used to be sick, but now I’m much better. I’m starting a new school with my best friend Steph soon.”

  I scramble to Glory’s side.

  “Um… that’s nice. But why are you telling me this?” Amelia blinks.

  “Now you know me.” She smiles brightly. “Is it okay if I get to know you too?”

  Amelia swallows. Her eyes get a little glassy and she chokes out. “S-sure.”

  “Do you want to eat with us?” Glory points to the table.

  Amelia glances over and her eyes land on Kaelyn. She stiffens. “No thank you.”

  “Come on, Amelia.” Kaelyn pushes out a chair. “We’re not going to bite.”

  Hesitantly, Amelia allows Glory to drag her over.

  The Jameson matriarch doesn’t speak much and, five minutes in, she makes a quick excuse to leave, but I do see her smiling genuinely at Glory before she goes.

  Later, when I tell Heath about it, he looks thoughtful. “Mom must be really lonely living in that big house alone.”

  “You know what I’ve found?” I whisper, watching Glory as she laughs with glee and throws basketballs into a tiny net.

  Warm green eyes fall softly on me. “What?”

  “We all want family. Deep down. We all want people we can belong to. I thought I’d found that sense of belonging in history, but instead…” I wrap an arm around his neck. “I found it in you.”

  “I can’t imagine this family without you in it, Bren.” Heath kisses me gently.

  At that moment, the scoreboard buzzes.

  Glory squeals happily. “Dad! I did it! I got a hundred tickets.”

  Heath winks at me and mouths, “Tonight.” Without waiting to catch my grin, he spins and picks Glory up. Hoisting her on his shoulders, he does a victory dance that moves her to uncontrollable laughter. “My daughter’s so amazing.”

  “Let’s team up, Glory,” I say, grabbing a ball. “You and me against your dad.”

  “Now how is that fair?” Heath protests.

  “Deal!” Glory scrambles off her father’s shoulders and joins me in front of the game.

  As I enjoy my time with them, warmth fills my heart. It builds and builds until I stand back and stare at the father and daughter, profoundly grateful to be here and to have found this.

  My reason.

  My place.

  Home.

  Epilogue

  Dear Grampa,

  Thank you for the ladybug outfit. I love it so much. Ms. Mercy says that I can’t wear it all the time, but I really wish I could. It’s that great. Dad says that maybe one day, I can come and see you.

  He’ll have to be there of course. He doesn’t trust you very much. He knows that we talked on the trip and worked everything out. Remember? You cried on my shoulder and I told you it was okay, but I already had a dad.

  I still think dad should give you a chance, but Brenna says he’s stubborn and he’ll forgive you on his own time.

  It’s okay though. I’m happy to talk to you like this.

  Speaking of dad, we’re doing something super secret. Shh. Don’t tell anybody, but we’re planning to ask Brenna to marry us. Well, not us. Dad of course. But he wants me there because he says that Brenna will be more likely to say yes. Isn’t he funny?

  I set them up, you know. Just like Steph set up her uncle and aunt. The Make It Marriage women said I did a great job and maybe I could be like Steph and join the agency when I’m eighteen. I can make people marry each other and fall in love. And I can tell adult jokes like Venus. Although I’m not sure what an ‘adult joke’ is. No one wants to tell me one.

  Anyway, dad and Brenna are my first clients. Even though they’re together, dad still needs my help so badly. He was going to hide the ring in the cake for dessert. I asked him why and he said Google told him that was a good idea. I asked him what would happen if Brenna swallowed the ring and he didn’t have an answer. He’s so silly.

  Ms. Mercy says when she was younger, her husband took her to their favorite spot. So dad got permission to use the farmhouse where he and Brenna first met. We’re going tomorrow to string the lights and put candles everywhere—electric candles because dad says Brenna worked too hard to save the house and we can’t burn it down. It’s going to be so much fun!

  I’ll take lots of pictures and ask Ms. Mercy to help me print them out so I can send them to you. Please send me more pictures of the places you’re traveling to.

  I loved the ones you took of Paris. I’m going to go there someday. Maybe, when I’m older, I can go there with you.

  Please be safe while you ‘find yourself’ (I’m not sure why you need to find yourself when you’re not lost, but I guess that’s a thing). I’ll tell Grandma hi for you.

  Love,

  Your granddaughter,

  Glory

 
; Not ready to let go of this little family? Want an exclusive look at Heath’s proposal (and future sneak peeks, cover reveals and deals)? Join my mailing list here.

  The Make It Marriage crew saved the day! I’m having so much watching this universe expand.

  Brenna and Heath were standing on opposite ends of a fight and had many obstacles to overcome. I’m so glad they pushed through and chose each other and I hope you feel the same! If you liked this book please leave a review now.

  Read on for an excerpt of Be My Baby, a billionaire pregnancy romance in the Make It Marriage series!

  Author’s Note

  Normally, when I open a blank document and start planning a story, I think about the conflict.

  The conflicts come first because, to me, a story is most interesting when the problems standing in the way of the couple are hard to overcome.

  When I wrote Be My Reason, I knew I wanted an enemies-to-lovers romance and I knew I wanted to feature Heath, Glory and Brenna.

  But, as I wrote this one and the problems unfolded, even I wondered how these two would reconcile their differences and make it to a happy ending.

  Fortunately, the answer soon became clear—the solution lay in Heath.

  Brenna needed a firm foundation to stand on. She needed to know that someone would be there for her, even if it didn’t make sense.

  Heath became that place of refuge for her and so she, in turn, became that shelter for him.

  They decided to become a family by choosing each other over their own ambitions and insecurities.

  In the end, they both learned that love is a choice.

  And, yes. It’s really that simple.

  I hope you enjoyed Be My Reason. For access to Brenna and Heath’s exclusive bonus scene (and future sneak peeks, cover reveals and deals), sign up to my newsletter here.

  Until the next whirlwind BWWM Romance.

  ~ Nia

  Be My Baby

  SNEAK PEEK

  Sneak Peek! Be My Baby Chapter One

  My fingers scrape against the underside of the Make It Marriage business card. Sweat beads around my neck and under my dress.

  The clock ticks loudly in the corner.

  Counting down the seconds until my dreams die.

  Tick. Tock.

  I swallow hard. Set the business card aside.

  Try to breathe.

  This is the most important moment of my life.

  Or one of them.

  The third.

  The first was when my mother died.

  The second was when I got my diagnosis last month.

  My eyes squeeze shut as I recall that moment in the cold, stark office.

  One word from one doctor can completely change your life.

  I know.

  The news shattered me.

  Sent me crawling to this agency with a crazy request.

  Kayla slides her fingers together. Her smile is warm. Polite.

  There’s a picture of a handsome white man wearing glasses and a besotted smirk on her desk. The man is holding a bouncing, tawny-skinned baby girl.

  Her daughter I assume.

  My eyes fix on the baby.

  I want that.

  I’m willing to do anything to have that.

  My teeth dig into my bottom lip.

  My fingers slide from the business card to the hem of my skirt.

  Tick tock.

  “How can I help you?” Kayla asks, her voice low. Still polite. Still warm.

  Will it stay that way when I tell her what I need?

  “I…” My voice is scratchy.

  She gestures to the water on the coffee table.

  I pick up the glass. Knock the drink back.

  The water is cool going down my throat, but I’m still hot. Still sweating.

  “You seem nervous.” Kayla leans back. Her ponytail is squashed beneath her lavender pantsuit. “Relax. We’re here to help. Just tell me what you’re looking for.”

  “I’m looking for a good father.” My throat bobs as I swallow.

  “A good father?” Her eyebrows jerk up. “Do you have kids?”

  “Not yet. I mean, no.” But soon. Please, God. Let this work out.

  Kayla’s eyebrows jumble together. “You’d like a potential match who’s interested in becoming a father down the road?”

  “No.”

  “Well—”

  “I want a father for my child.”

  “Are you pregnant?” She lifts her clipboard. “That wasn’t on your form.”

  “I’m not pregnant. At least, not yet.” I swipe my lips. Wait for her to figure it out. “I’m kind of hoping your agency can help me with that.”

  Her eyes widen.

  There.

  The shock.

  The confusion.

  The mild disapproval.

  She’s going to say no.

  I knew this was a long-shot.

  ***

  Be My Baby will be here soon! For future sneak peeks, cover reveals and deals, sign up to my newsletter here.

  Earn Me

  Have you read this angsty, marriage-reconciliation romance yet?

  Scroll on for a sneak peek.

  Sneak Peek! Earn Me Chapter One

  My keys clatter against the table.

  The house is silent.

  Holding its breath.

  I get uneasy the moment I drag my suitcases in. Past the living room decorated in earthen tones—brown, beige, cream. All different colors according to Nat. They just look like sand to me.

  Past the paintings on the wall. Each one custom and commissioned by a famous artist. Swirls of color. Blues bleeding into reds and greens. Universes we can’t see trapped in a canvas.

  As a fellow artist, I appreciate how the painter trapped chaos on the canvas.

  Nat gets it too.

  She always does.

  My shoes thump against the marble floor. They echo too loud. Sound too invasive.

  I leave them behind at the counter. Pass the leather couch filled with decorative pillows. The fridge with our pictures arranged neatly in rows. The staircase made of gleaming mahogany.

  My stained fingers grip the railings. The ends of my frayed jeans slip against the solid wooden steps.

  Why isn’t Nat out yet? She would have heard me by now.

  “Nat?” My voice sounds hollow in the silence. Every move I make echoes, but her name skitters to the ends of the house and doesn’t return to me.

  The silence gets sharper. Becomes a weapon.

  It slashes at my ears and my ribs.

  I let out a breath. Try to relax.

  Maybe she’s not home yet.

  I take another weary step up the stairs and lug my suitcase behind me. While I move, I reach into my back pocket and pull out my phone.

  The screen brightens. Nat’s gorgeous face looks up at me. Thick black hair to her shoulders. Sultry, almond-shaped eyes. Plump red lips. Skin so gloriously brown it draws and emits sunlight whenever she moves.

  This is my favorite picture of her. Of us.

  It was last year. Our seventh wedding anniversary. My tattoo shop was just starting to take off, so I sprung for a trip to one of those fancy vineyards.

  Swiping away from the home screen, I tap my message icon.

  Emails from my assistant. Work. Work. More work.

  Nothing from my wife.

  With a sigh, I return the phone to my pocket and heft my suitcase to the second floor. Setting it on the ground, I drag it to the master bedroom.

  Reach out.

  Push.

  Open the door.

  It’s dark. Quiet.

  Immediately, I feel the emptiness.

  Every time I’ve come back from a trip, Nat’s been here. She’d either greet me at the door with a kiss or wait in bed wearing the kind of lingerie meant to punish me for leaving.

  Why isn’t she here yet?

  I shake off my concern and grab a clean set of clothes from my suitcase. Might as well shower before sh
e gets here. My trip took longer than expected, but I rushed home the moment I could get away.

  I toss my bag on the foot of the bed—right on top of that trunk Nat inherited from her great grandmother—and tug my shirt over my head.

  As I enter the bathroom, a dark feeling pulls me back.

  Empty.

  Something’s empty.

  I whirl around and face the sink. A large mirror takes up the entire wall.

  His and her sinks.

  My side has three bottles—shaving cream, body lotion, cologne.

  Nat’s side has…

  Nothing.

  No makeup scattered everywhere. No cocoa butter. No oils, serums, and hair products smelling of life and growth and earth after rain.

  It’s all… gone.

  Wiped clean.

  Like it never existed.

  My eyebrows pinch together. I make a sharp turn and stride urgently into the bedroom again. The walk-in closet catches my eye. Storming over, I throw the door wide open and step in.

  The light from the bathroom casts a dim shadow, but I don’t bother reaching for the light switch. On a good day, my clothes take up one row of this closet. Nat’s outfits fill every hanger and squeeze into every available space.

  Except for tonight.

  Except for right now.

  I stumble forward. Extend a hand. Catch air where Nat’s clothes should be.

  The scent of her still lingers. It hasn’t been long since she packed up.

  Since she—

  Damn.

  No.

  This isn’t happening. There’s got to be some other explanation.

  I return to the bathroom and check under the sink. Nat’s a messy person, but she’ll have these cleaning bouts that hit her like lightening. She’ll gather all her stuff and put them away neatly. Set them in lines. Organize. Pack. Throw away.

 

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