The Beard (Haylee Thorne)

by Haylee Thorne

  The minister looks over the guests.

  “The groom’s grandmother would like to say a few words.”

  “I’d like to do a reading from scripture,” she says. “I’d like to read first Corinthians, chapter 13, verses four through eight.”

  We stare at each other as Gigi shares her blessing with us. The minister announces it is time to read our vows.

  “These vows are your way to openly declare your promise to one another, as well as to all of those who are in attendance today.”

  He turns to me.

  “Mackenzie, ladies first.”

  Tears pool at the back of my eyelids.

  “Ashton,” I breathe. “You have been surprising me from the very first day I met you. That also happens to be the day I decided to stay far away from you.”

  The guests laugh.

  “Not because of anything you did, but because I think that my soul recognized yours, and it scared the heck out of me. We certainly have had our fair share of heartache and tribulations already, and I know there are so many more to come. But I know that together we can face them and come out stronger. I promise you that I will fight for us and never give up on that fight. You promised me forever, and I am holding you to it,” I say with a smirk.

  Ashton beams at me.

  “Mackenzie, unlike you, I wasn’t scared of what I felt when I first met you. The way I felt that first day as you breezed past me and into that elevator was like nothing I’ve felt before. While it didn’t scare me, I tried to deny it, but it grew and has continued to grow, and I know it will keep growing as the rest of our days unfold. The very first time I saw your smile, it lit up my entire universe. I knew I was in trouble. When I stole our first kiss from you, I knew that I was a goner. I will always continue to tell you that I am not, nor will I ever be, sorry. Thank you for choosing me. I promise you, right here and now, that no matter what, I will always choose you.”

  I don’t think there is a dry eye in the house when we are both through. We exchange rings and repeat the words we are told to repeat. Then it is finally time for the “I do’s.”

  “Mackenzie, do you take Ashton to be your husband, to live together in the covenant of marriage? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?”

  “I do,” I say, beaming at my almost husband.

  He repeats the words to Ashton, who listens intently. It’s adorable.

  “I do.”

  “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Ashton, you may kiss the bride.”

  Ashton takes my face into his hands and peers into my eyes.

  “I love you, Mrs. Walker,” he mutters before his lips crash down on mine.

  He swallows my reply. Just for a moment, everyone else around us disappears. We enjoy the moment as we share not only our very first “not stolen” kiss, but also our first kiss as husband and wife. It isn’t until the minister clears his throat that we realize we need to stop. There is always time for more of that later.

  “I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Ashton Walker. Congratulations.”

  We turn to face our guests, who break into applause as we stand there for a moment, basking in our happiness. We walk down the aisle together and officially start our walk as husband and wife.

  The reception is in full swing, and I am watching Gigi and Ashton on the dance floor. I have finally gotten to sit down and am not about to give up my chair, happy to let Gigi have her dance. Brock lowers himself into the chair next to me, and I lean my head against his shoulder.

  “I’m so sorry, Brock. I never meant to hurt you. I appreciate everything you have done for me, but he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

  Brock kisses the top of my head.

  “Silly girl, who do you think pulled his head out of his ass so he would come and fight for you?” he says with a chuckle. “You’ve made him happier than I’ve ever seen him, M, and I love you even more for that.”

  “What about you? Will you find another beard?”

  “Nobody could ever replace you,” he says. “Besides, I told Gigi and Pops. They are fine with it, so I don’t care about the rest of the world. All the people that are most important in my life know and still love and accept me. I have gotten everything I wanted, even what I didn’t want to admit to myself what I wanted.”

  “I can’t tell you how happy that makes me, Brock. It really does.”

  “I know.”

  We are silent for a bit as we watch Gigi and Ashton burn up the dance floor.

  “The only thing is, now I’m stuck with a restaurant,” Brocks says, eyes fixed on those who are dancing. “You wouldn’t happen to know anyone who would like to run it, do you?”

  I blink at him.

  “You can consider it a wedding gift.”

  “Brock, you’re kidding.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You’re drunk.”

  “You’re interested,” he says with a smirk.

  My very first Rom-Com and my third baby! The Beard has really been so much fun to write and I hope you enjoyed reading it! I can’t believe that it has been less than a year that I started this journey! Time is flying by and I am so grateful for the opportunity to share my stories with the world! There are several people who have not only enriched this crazy book journey but also my life. One of them being my #bookbestie Michelle Windsor. Michelle—Thank you for your friendship. I wouldn’t know what to do without our daily phone-calls/facetime sessions, our collaborations, our fun trips and all-around shenanigans. You are a true friend, a wonderful mom & wife and an incredible author, and it is my honor to call you my #bookBFF. I couldn’t walk this journey without my #madcapcrew. Next up is the very talented and amazing author/designer Liv Moore. Liv—I am so grateful that you share your talent with me! You always blow me away with amazing covers and promo you make for me! (I mean, come on guys! How GORGEOUS is this cover #FLOVE) I adore you, and I am grateful for your friendship. Our #madcapcrew isn’t complete without the very vivacious and incredible Kimberly Reese. Not only does she edit my words, she also is an amazing author and even more amazing friend. Thank you for putting up with me, I love the crap outta you! As always, a huge thank you to my husband Stephen, who never complaints when I am locked away in my writing cave for weeks on end, no time to do anything but write the words that need to come out of me. Without your support, I wouldn’t be able to do this, so thank you babe! Love you! Lauren Valderrama, my one and only PA. I adore you. Thanks for always being there not just as PA, but as my dear friend. I have another amazing friend, who has since my very first book has been one of my greatest supporter (even though I am not allowing him to actually read them, he has them LOL) and I am glad I finally wrote something I can let him read (LOL) Dr. Brent Hayden MD, thank you for being nerdy with me, and for your enthusiastic support since the beginning of my crazy book journey! You are an awesome friend and I am glad God crossed our paths! Saving the best for last of course, YOU, the reader. I FLOVE you, for giving my words a chance. Thank you for continuing to support me, it means the world to me. I know that there are so many amazing authors out there, and the fact that you spend time reading the words that little old me wrote, is overwhelming to me. So, from the bottom of my heart; Thank YOU!

  Much love,

  Haylee

  When Haylee Thorne isn’t writing her stories, she works proudly as a registered nurse in Kentucky. Haylee loves to read and watch TV (she may or may not be slightly obsessed with anime), and there aren’t many movies she has not seen. She’s known to enjoy a good glass of champagne, and can eat an unlimited amount of French fries (seriously, it’s a problem). When she has some free time (as in time not spend working or writing), Haylee loves spending time with her husband, family and friends.

  You can find Haylee on her webpage at

  http://hayleethorneauthor.com/

  or on Facebook at

>   https://www.facebook.com/hayleethorneauthor/

  Readers group on Facebook

  https://www.facebook.com/groups/327142444347392/

  or on bookbub at

  https://www.bookbub.com/profile/haylee-thorne

  Also by Haylee Thorne

  The Kingsley Series

  Tomorrow, Kingsley Series Book 1

  After Tomorrow, Kingsley Series Book 2

  Coming soon:

  Breaking Benjamin, Auction series/Kingsley series spin off co-written with Michelle Windsor

  Reclaiming Tomorrow, Kingsley Series Book 3

  Breaking Benjamin Excerpt

  Michelle Windsor and I have been known to have each other’s characters make cameos in our books. We had so much fun doing that, that we have collaborated and are bringing you an EPIC Auction series/Kingsley series Cross-over Featuring Benjamin Sapphire from the Auction series and Jill Baldwin from the Kingsley series. You all have seen the cover (Featuring the very gorgeous Stuart Reardon) and now I am going to tease you with a little sneak peek!

  CHAPTER ONE

  I shove two fingers between my collar and neck and tug hard as I stride through the revolving door of our newest hotel. This damn tie is strangling me. It’s bad enough I have to make an appearance at these events, but my brother Drew’s insistence that I wear a suit and tie is pure torture for me and he knows it. Fuck it. I grasp the knot of the tie, loosening it, and then yank the noose-like silk over my head and shove the offending article in my jacket pocket. I unbutton the top two buttons of my shirt as well, letting out a sigh of pleasure at the ability to breathe freely again. What’s Drew going to do, fire me? He can’t; I own thirty percent of the company, just like him.

  Just to really get under his skin, I stop at the coat check and swap my suit jacket for a ticket and grin widely when I thank the attendant who has just unwittingly helped me to drag at least one eye roll out of my younger brother this evening. Yep, he’s my younger brother, but he does more to keep me on the straight and narrow then the other way around. After spending seven years in the Army, four of those years deployed overseas for active duty, he understands that my edges will always be a little rough. But that doesn’t stop him from trying to smooth them out when he can.

  Strolling into the grand ballroom, I can’t help the small swell of pride that courses through me. The latest hotel in our chain, Sapphire Resorts, has turned out beautifully and without a doubt, especially with the location so central to the financial district, I believe it’s going to be a big success. When did I start caring so much about this shit? I chuckle to myself with a small shake of my head and then look for the closest bar. I need a drink if I’m going to get through the next two hours.

  I head to the bar in the back corner of the ballroom, a spot I know will most likely be a bit quieter, but pause when a flash of gold catches the corner of my eye. I turn my head and draw in a long, appreciative breath as I scan the beauty making her way across the ballroom floor. Her gaze seems focused on the bar at the front of the room, so I turn my body and casually drift in that direction instead.

  As I’m walking, I scan from her gold clad toes, up her bare, toned legs to mid-thigh where the hem of her sheer cream dress ends. The sheer fabric is scattered with a thousand different types of golden gemstones that hug her tiny waist and perfect breasts, and reflect against every light in the room. But what really draws my attention to her, is the large open back of the dress. Her entire back is bare, exposing skin so smooth, it appears flawless. I clasp and unclasp my hand as I fight the urge to press it flat against her skin as I move closer. It’s hard to tell if her hair is long or short as it’s all piled on top of her head, as if she knows the power her exposed back possesses.

  I stop several feet from the bar and watch as she attempts to cut a path through the mingling throng and waves to try and catch the bartender’s attention. It’s a female bartender, otherwise I’m certain she would have had a drink in front her before she could have lifted a single finger. I continue watching until a rather stout gentleman slides up beside her and starts making conversation. It’s amusing to watch her try and be kind to the man until I see him reach out and slide his pinky finger down her arm suggestively and watch as a look of disgust appears on her face.

  Anger surges through my body and within seconds I’m pushing myself between her and the man, a warning snarl on my lips as I glare at him, before I place my hand flat against the center of her back. It feels like silk. It’s the single thought that flies through my head before I smile down at her and brush a kiss against her cheek.

  “Hello darling. Are you having a problem getting the cocktails?”

  Her wide blue eyes look up at me in surprise and then in knowing relief as she immediately plays into my little game. “Yes! Have you come to rescue me babe?”

  I can’t help the wide grin that breaks across my face when she gives me a small wink and mouths silently, “thank you so much”.

  “I have.” I give her my full attention for only a second, my eyes locking onto hers long enough to see light grey flecks mixed into the blue surrounding her pupil, making me think of waves churning at sea. I break contact and look at the bartender’s name tag.

  “Excuse me Greta?” Whether it’s because I’m a somewhat handsome male, or because she realized a Sapphire was standing in front of her, all of her attention is immediately focused on me.

  “Yes sir, what can I get you?” Her cheeks turn a light pink and she begins fidgeting with the can opener in her fingers.

  I smile warmly to try and settle her nerves and nod toward the back of the bar. “I’ll have a couple fingers of that whiskey please, on the rocks.” I turn my head toward the vision in gold, locking my eyes with hers again, “and darling, I’m sorry, what did you want again?”

  I watch as her eyes narrow and one side of her gloss-lined lips tilt up in a smirk as she tells the bartender that she’ll have a Goose on the rocks, her eyes never leaving mine.

  The bartender sets our drinks down in front of us within seconds with a loud thump and busies herself with the next person in line. I watch as fingers, tipped with short, delicate nails painted black, wrap around the glass and then move to her mouth, her lips kissing the edge of the glass, drawing in a small sip of the clear liquid before slowly lowering it.

  “Thanks for rescuing me.”

  I look down in shock as the hand that was on her back is suddenly cold and empty and watch her turn and start walking away. I grab my whiskey off the bar and quickly follow, calling after her.

  “I’m Ben, in case you were wondering.” She stops mid-stride and turns back toward me, a cocky grin on her face.

  “I wasn’t. Wondering. But nice to meet you Ben. Thanks again.” She raises the glass in salute and starts to turn again, but I take a step closer as she does, causing her to falter, one eyebrow raising in curiosity. “Yes?”

  “You aren’t going to tell me your name?” Jesus, I sound like a desperate idiot who’s never seen a beautiful woman before.

  She laughs lightly and I watch as she takes another sip from her glass, her eyes scanning me from head to toe, her eyes pausing briefly at what I’m sure are my tattoo’s peeking out of my open collar, and then shakes her head. “No, I don’t think so.”

  I rear back in surprise and scoff. “You seriously aren’t going to tell me your name?”

  She shrugs and challenges me. “Why?”

  “Why do I want to know your name?”

  She nods and places a hand on her hip, jutting it out slightly as she does. “Yes, why? Are you planning on sending me flowers? Or trying to get to know me better?” She lifts her glass a little in the air. “Do I owe you because you bought me a drink?”

  A little unsure and a lot stunned by her response, I scratch my beard and frown down at her. “You’re a spunky little thing, aren’t you?”

  She lifts her shoulders nonchalantly. “Maybe. Maybe I just know guys like you.”

  I raise my brows in surprise.
“Guys like me?”

  She nods and takes her hand off her hip to wave it up and down with a flourish around me. “Yes, guys like you. Tall, dark and handsome.” She gives me another once over before continuing. “And I’d say rich based on your watch and shoes alone.”

  I give her my most dazzling smile. “You think I’m handsome?”

  A small frown tugs her lips down. “See? That’s all you heard. Guys like you think they can throw their pretty little smiles around and we women are just supposed to fall at your feet.”

  “I wasn’t expecting you to fall at my feet. I was just wondering what your name was.”

  She lifts the glass to her lips again, the ice clinking as she drains the rest of the vodka, and then takes a step closer to hand me the glass. “Like I said, thanks for the drink.” She looks me up and down one final time, shakes her head and then mutters as she turns to leave. “Been there, done that. Not going there again.”

  I stand there dumbfounded as I watch her walk back through the crowd, her beautiful bare back taunting me as she does. I raise my own glass in response, and finish the whiskey in one swallow. As I lower the glass, I notice Gage, my friend, and photographer we hired for the evening, taking some pictures at the edge of the room. I quickly walk back to the bar and deposit the empty glasses and ask Greta for two beers. Grabbing them, I relocate Gage and make my way over to him.

  “Hey man! How’s it going?” I hold one of the beers out to him, which he takes, a grateful look on his face.

  “Thanks man. I need this.” I watch as he takes a long pull from the bottle. “The shoot is going great. I’m just about done I think. Just want to get some of your brother’s speech and then I think I can wrap up.”