by Abby Brooks
Dreams really did come true.
Decade-long crushes matured into something real.
The boy who chose my brother over me grew up to realize he’d chosen the wrong Prescott.
Work passed quickly and the smile on my face seemed contagious. Everyone left Sweet Stuff in a better mood than they came in with. As the day ended, I stopped in the bathroom to freshen my makeup and smooth out my hair, then made the short trip to Overton’s. The snow from the storm had been pushed out of the road, lining the streets in frozen white heaps. Streetlights glimmered and shone through the icy air and downtown Wildrose felt magical, even as the wind bit into my exposed skin, stealing my breath.
Bridget greeted me like an old friend as I stepped through the doors. “Congratulations on your wedding.” She grinned over her shoulder as she guided me to a table in the back. “I knew there was something special between you two. It’s like a fairy tale, isn’t it?”
“It is. I’m so unbelievably happy, it’s almost ridiculous.” And for as true as that was, a shadow flitted across my heart, deflating my mood.
My relationship with Jude was like a fairy tale.
One we’d purposefully crafted.
Things between us felt more and more real, but what if I was just falling for the story like everyone else?
Shaking off those thoughts, I ordered a Coke for me and a whiskey for Jude, then occupied myself by flipping through the menu until the waiter arrived.
“Hello,” he said with a perfectly pleasant smile on his round face. “My name is Frederick and I’ll be taking care of you this evening. Would you like to place your order now? Or perhaps you’d prefer to wait for your guest?”
It was everything I could do not to laugh in the guy’s face. When Jude had thrown out Frederick as a baby name the other night, he’d said the name was strong. Masculine. To the point. Nothing about the guy in front of me fit that description. He was plump and jolly. His hair hung just a tad too long and his graceful way of moving made me think of a swan. A plump, jolly swan…who patiently awaited my response with his hands clasped in front of him.
“I think I’ll wait for my husband to arrive before ordering. He should be here any minute. Thank you, Frederick.” Despite my best efforts, a giggle escaped and I tried to hide it in a cough. Jude would laugh his ass off when he sat down and I didn’t want to give poor Frederick a complex.
Our drinks arrived and I sipped at my soda, sighing in pleasure. Since learning I was pregnant, I’d been so careful about caffeine and sugar that this little treat felt like heaven. I made my dinner choice—mozzarella stuffed chicken parm—then sat back, studying the people in the restaurant as I waited for Jude to arrive. Ten minutes passed. I pulled out my phone. No texts saying he’d be late, so I decided to check in.
Me: Hey. Just sitting here at Overton’s waiting on the sexiest man I know to walk through the door…
I waited for a response for what felt like an eternity, then locked my phone and put it on the table and went back to sipping my Coke.
Minutes ticked by.
I finished my drink and Frederick brought me another. “Still waiting?” he asked, looking like a slightly sad, plump swan.
I nodded. “He’ll be here soon.”
Only he wasn’t.
I picked up my phone, hoping I’d missed a text.
I hadn’t.
So I sent one to him.
Me: Hope everything’s okay…
No response.
I went ahead and ordered my dinner and did my best to eat it, only the longer I waited to hear from Jude, the more nervous I became.
Me: I’m really starting to worry. Do I need to call the hospitals? Where are you?
I’d meant the hospital thing as a joke, but when I still didn’t get a response, I started to worry in earnest. Jude was an ‘always early’ kind of guy and he was officially very late.
Finally, after Frederick paddled his way to my table for the fifth time to check in, I decided to have mercy on the man. People were waiting to be seated and I was eating into his chance for tips. I ordered a plate of penne in white sauce with spicy sausage for Jude, boxed it up, and left Frederick a hefty tip. As I stepped into the cold night, my phone finally buzzed with a text. I stopped in my tracks to fumble with everything in my hands and read the message.
Jude: Still at the bar. Sorry!
I stared for a long time before I closed the phone and put it in my purse. At the bar. And he couldn’t answer a text? Here I was, actively worried about his health and safety and he was ‘at the bar.’ He chose work over me. That stung more than I wanted to admit.
“You better have a damn good excuse, mister.” I said as I lowered myself into my car, shivering in the crisp January air. “Or else I’m gonna eat this entire serving of pasta and I won’t feel bad, not even a little bit.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Jude
The strobing red and blue lights flashing through the front windows of Cheers ‘n Beers finally faded as the police officers pulled their cruisers away from the curb. I ran a hand through my hair, studying the upended tables and broken glass in front of me. It would take forever to clean up, but it would have to wait because right now I needed to be home, with Izzy, where everything felt sane and normal. I locked up the bar and climbed into the truck, driving home on autopilot.
“Jesus. What a night.” I rubbed the back of my neck as I pulled into my driveway, the garage door lifting to reveal Izzy’s car safely tucked inside. I couldn’t wait to get in there with her and vent about what a shit show the night had been. And then maybe, if the mood was right, I’d tell her I was falling in love with her and have the conversation I meant to have at Overton’s.
But only if the mood was right.
So much could go wrong, talking about feelings, and I was at the end of my rope after what I’d been through.
When I stepped into the house, Iz was in the kitchen, leaned against the counter, looking ready to murder me with eye-lasers. Her gaze hit mine and she pursed her lips, shaking her head.
So much for the mood being right.
“I had a really nice time at Overton’s.” Her voice was cool, collected. Too calm considering how much venom spun in her eyes. “Ordered you some pasta. It’s in the fridge.” She jerked a thumb in that direction then folded her arms.
“That was so thoughtful of you. Thanks, babe.” I stepped closer, ready to bury myself in her warmth and let the stress of the day seep away but pulled up short. Izzy looked too prickly to touch.
“That’s me. Super thoughtful. Even when I’m in the middle of being stood up.” She popped her fists on her hips. “Why didn’t you text me to say you weren’t coming? I sat there forever.”
“I’m really sorry about that. My phone was in my office and—”
“In the office.” She sounded wholly unimpressed. “And where were you?”
I folded my arms across my chest. This was the last thing I fucking needed. “I was with Jess, up to my neck in shit.”
“Are you speaking literally or allegorically here?”
“Actually, I think that would count as hyperbole, if you want to get technical…” Izzy’s eyes flashed and I held up my hands. “Joking. Just a joke. Trying to lighten the mood here, shit.”
“You could have lightened the mood hours ago by having the common decency to send me a text and let me know you wouldn’t be coming tonight.”
“Would you have liked that to happen before or after the cops showed up? You know. Just so I’m prepared the next time.”
Izzy blinked. “The cops?”
“The cops.” I raked my hands down my face. “Which you would have known if you’d waited to understand what happened before you jumped down my throat.”
“What was I supposed to think happened? Your text wasn’t exactly highly detailed.” Izzy flung her hands in the air. “All I knew was that you didn’t show because you were ‘at the bar.’”
“I’m sorry. I was distracte
d by the bar fight that led to the destruction of my property and sent Jess to the hospital for stitches. But don’t worry, I’ll try to be more clear the next time things go crazy.”
Fucking hell. After what I went through, walking into an interrogation was the last thing I needed.
“Stitches?” Izzy stepped toward me. “Shit, Jude. What happened?”
I stared at the floor. “Just one of the worst nights I’ve had at the bar. And then I come home, hoping to kick up my feet and relax and you jump down my throat.”
“I didn’t know what happened. I spent an entire evening eating alone while Frederick looked less like a jolly swan and more like an agitated goose, getting more and more worried about you, only to find out you chose the bar over me. That’s all I knew. Still at the bar. What was I supposed to think?”
“A little benefit of the doubt would have been nice.” I glanced up. “And who’s Frederick and what are you talking about, swans and geese?”
Izzy huffed a quiet laugh. “I was so sure we were gonna joke about it all night. He was our waiter and you suggested that name for the baby if it’s a boy and he was just…” Her eyes met mine. “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”
I shook my head. “I was in the office getting ready to leave when it happened. There was shouting, then this giant crash followed by Jess screaming. I ran out there…” A sigh slipped past my lips. My shoulders slumped. When I saw Jeremiah Hinkle slam his fist into Matthew Mayweather’s face, Jess rushing in to pull them apart…
Adrenaline hit my system and I reacted without thinking. I raced into the fray, pushing Jeremiah away from Matthew. He reached across the bar for a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and rushed us. The bottle struck a table and shattered, slicing Jess’ hand.
In fits and starts, I shared the experience with Izzy. Somehow, I found myself in her arms, her hands brushing through my hair. “I’m so sorry that happened,” she whispered. “And I’m so sorry I got mad.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t explain.” I hated thinking about her sitting alone at Overton’s. Worried. Alone.
“Don’t…please don’t. I understand. I was just so scared that something was wrong. I even thought about calling the hospitals. And then when you texted me, I thought…” She shook her head. “I’m just so sorry, Jude. Do you have an appetite?”
I nodded. I was hungry, but not for penne in white sauce. With her body pressed against me, her curves soft and luscious, her hair brushing my face, I was hungry for her gasps. Her moans. Hungry for her to make everything feel better.
“Here, you sit,” she said, pulling away to reach for the fridge. “I’ll warm this up.”
I grabbed her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. “I’m not hungry for dinner.”
Her brow furrowed. “I thought that was your favorite. I guess I could whip up some—”
I stepped in, silencing her with a kiss, my hands sliding up her face and into that silky smooth hair. Her gasp sent a surge of electricity to my dick. I angled my mouth, deepening the kiss, sweeping my tongue against hers, biting her bottom lip.
I wanted her.
I needed her.
Desperate to feel her skin on mine, I yanked off my shirt, then hers, nuzzling my face into her breasts, pulling down her bra to reveal her nipples, pebbled and hard. I sucked one into my mouth, while rolling the other between my fingers. Her hands were in my hair, gripping my shoulders, nails trailing down my back.
“Jude…”
The need in her voice set me on fire.
“Say it, baby.”
I wanted to hear her say she wanted me.
I wanted her to beg me to fuck her.
Her breath hitched. “I…”
Slipping my hand past her waistband, I stroked her clit. She was so wet, I made a sound that was almost a growl. Something low. Dripping with need the way she dripped for me.
“Say it.”
“I…”
I thrust my finger inside her, palming her clit, working her body as she rocked her hips. Leaning forward, I kissed along her throat, her jawline, taking her earlobe between my teeth. “Say it, Isabelle.”
“I love you.”
The words tumbled from her lips and froze me in place. I blinked, pulling back to meet her eyes. Her lips parted. Her gaze held mine.
“I’ve loved you my whole life and if you don’t know that, then you haven’t been paying attention.” Her eyes flashed and her chest heaved.
I licked my lips. Moment of truth, Malone. “I love you too, Izzy. I think I always have.”
There was a moment. The two of us standing there, adrenaline racing, bodies begging, hearts joining, and then our lips met. Hands grasping. Exploring. Clothing fell to the floor. I backed her against the wall, captured her hands and pinned them above her head.
“Say it again,” she panted against my mouth. “I want to hear it again.”
“I love you, Izzy.”
The words felt like magic, setting the room on fire with our passion. I tasted her smile, caressed away her tears, then lifted her leg and slipped my throbbing cock in place. Her body convulsed, her hands bracing, my heart racing as I fucked my wife against the wall in our kitchen. As she clenched around me, moaning her orgasm, my balls tightened and I exploded inside her.
Relief.
Release.
I buried my face in her neck and breathed her in.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Izzy
He loved me. Jude loved me. We were here, together, in his kitchen…our kitchen. I said I loved him, and he said he loved me back.
I sagged against the wall, body spent, leaning my head against his.
“What is it about this room?” he murmured, chuckling as he pressed a kiss to my throat and stepped away.
I shook my head. “You got me.”
And he did.
For better or worse, I was his.
Just like I’d always been
We cleaned up and I reheated the penne from Overton’s and sat with Jude as he ate. I couldn’t stop smiling, though as the afterglow of hearing him say those words faded, worry set in. I chewed on my lip, trying to keep the fear inside, but it clawed its way up my throat anyway.
“Did you mean it?” I asked as he stabbed a piece of sausage.
“Did I mean what?” His brows drew together. “Are you asking me if I really love you?”
I nodded, embarrassed to suddenly feel so insecure when I should be elated. “Sometimes people say things they don’t mean, especially during sex…”
“You mean like ‘marry me?’” Jude grinned as he took a bite.
“Yeah,” I replied with a laugh. “Kinda like that.”
“But see, I meant it when I asked you to marry me, and I meant it when I told you I loved you.” He placed his hand on mine. “That wasn’t how I wanted it to come out, but yes, Izzy. I adore you. I’m pretty sure I’ve loved you since we were kids.”
“Now I know you’re lying.”
He shook his head, using his fork to fish for a piece of sausage. “I was lying to myself. Everyone I dated had pieces of you, but they weren’t you. They couldn’t hold a candle to Isabelle Prescott. No one can.”
“What would teenage me think if she knew this was coming? I used to write my first name with your last name in all my notebooks, and now I have your last name. And your baby.” I grinned. “It’s like a dream come true and it’s happening so fast.”
“I bet Amelia would say it’s happening the way it’s supposed to.” Jude finished his dinner and took his plate to the sink.
“She probably would,” I said as he rinsed it and placed it into the dishwasher. “I guess it doesn’t matter if it’s happening too fast or right on time, because here we are.”
“Here we are.” Jude took my hand and pulled me into his arms, swaying me back and forth, dancing to a silent melody in the kitchen. He twirled me away and then right back in. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
I placed my head on his chest, remembering the way
I’d felt at Alex’s wedding reception. Who would have thought a simple dance would end up with us happily married?
Jude probably did, whispered a dark voice in my head. Since he sat down with you that night, intending to ask you to marry him. For Brennen.
“I think I knew.” His voice was quiet. Almost reverent. “When I decided to ask you to help me get custody of my brother. I must have known I loved you, but wasn’t ready to admit it.”
I smiled. “I was just thinking about that night. The reception. You have no idea how excited I was to dance with you.”
“Why do you think I waited to ask my question until the worst possible moment? I loved having you in my arms and didn’t want to ruin it.”
He dipped me back and kissed me passionately, just like he’d done the night he proposed, only this time it wasn’t for show. It wasn’t for the people of Wildrose.
It was for us.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Izzy
A month passed. January became February. We officially announced the pregnancy as I moved into the second trimester and I thought Jude’s mom was going to hyperventilate from excitement. My parents were a little more reserved but seemed pleased enough.
Meanwhile, I was happier than I’d ever been, but bone weary tired. An exhaustion that dragged at my feet and pulled at my shoulders. Jude’s lawyers said things were looking good and had started putting together the paperwork necessary to get custody of Brennen. After Jude found the bruise on his wrist, he’d contacted his mother and informed her of his intent. Later, Brennen said she’d lost her mind on her boyfriend, who swore he’d never put his hands on anyone ever again. Nevertheless, we promised to push forward and Brennen was excited and impatient, though trying not to show it. My life as a Malone fell into a comfortable rhythm. Jude and I laughed. We joked. We made passionate love. We talked about our jobs and our friends, but we never talked about our hopes, our dreams. We never talked about our past or our future.
