A Slow Burning Fire
Page 21
“True.” She laughed.
“And I know that whatever happened between you and Marcus…” He swallowed. “I know it didn't mean anything. You were upset and —”
Rolling her eyes, Arial snorted softly. “One fight isn't going to make me throw away all my morals. I'm not your ex.” She looked at him pointedly. “He made a pass at me, but I'm not that dumb. Nor was I that heartbroken to do something so crazy. In my heart I knew we'd work things out. I just needed a little space so I could think. Then I wanted to remember who I was and where I was. This place is as opposite from Ohio as up is from down. I missed it while I was gone, but it doesn't take too much for me to remember why I live the life I do.”
Bryce sighed as if relieved. “I love you.”
She smiled. “I love you, too.”
Epilogue
Six Months Later
Bryce looked handsome in his tuxedo. She'd seen him all dressed up before at other events, but nothing compared to that moment. Then again, Arial might have been a little biased since it was their wedding day.
The celebration was small and simple. Close friends and family were invited to her family farm in Ohio. Her parents had cleaned out the large shed where her father kept all of his equipment and turned it into a beautiful masterpiece. Twinkling lights hung from the rafters and support beams. The whole room had a winter wonderland theme to it. White cloths were over the tables, white roses with small red rosebuds in vases decorating the tops. Glittering snowflakes were spread over every surface.
“Are you ready to have our first dance, Mrs. Valentine?” Bryce asked before leaning in to kiss her cheek.
“I believe I am,” she said and smiled. Taking his hand, she walked with him out to the dance floor. “You're pretty presumptuous, thinking I'm going to take your name instead of having my own.”
He laughed and spun her in close to him. They started their dance, a classic, simple waltz. “Would you prefer I take yours? I'm not picky, you know. All that matters is that you're mine.”
“I was kidding,” she said. “I was planning on changing my name. Perhaps even publicly. Wouldn't that be a statement to everyone? That this is serious.”
“I saw somewhere that there's a bet going on about how long we're going to last.” He brushed some of her hair with one of his hands. Most of it was piled on the back of her head in a rose-shaped bun and sprayed with glitter. Her dress had a small train that swished around her as they moved. “I don't know if I've said this yet, but you look beautiful.”
She kissed his lips. “You have said it before, but go ahead and say it again. And let them make bets about us. We'll prove them all wrong.” Their love was deep and real and not easily shaken.
“That we will,” he said softly. He kissed her again, deeper this time, and she lingered in the feeling of his soft lips against her own. She would never get tired of doing that with him, and she couldn't wait to give herself to him fully for the first time that night. During their courtship up until the wedding, he'd been nothing but a dream. They’d had their fights, like any normal couple did, but even that added on to her affirmation that they were meant to be together forever. When they made love for the time later that night, then she would be complete. They would be one.
The future was theirs to explore. Not everything was set in stone, but they didn't need it to be. All she needed was him.
About the Author
J.F. Jenkins lives in Minneapolis Minnesota with her husband, son, and two cats. She graduated from Bethel University in 2006 with a degree in Media Communication with minors in both writing and film. When she is not busy writing, she spends her free time playing games, reading, and spending time with her family.
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Prologue
I can't say I'm the type of person who believes in love at first sight or some other random sappy cliché. Destiny and the idea that everything happens for a reason… I'm still trying to figure out if that exists. There are number of things that have happened to make me a little rough around the edges, jaded, and a skeptic about romance. Sappy, mushy, feelings were only supposed to exist in movies. I'm not going to say I've found one true love, but I have a lot more faith that the universe isn't simply out to get me.
Let me explain by telling you about this blind date I went on…
Chapter One
Blind dates suck. There's no way around it. Sure, some people meet the love of their life and live happily ever after. Others have the most awkward night of their life. No matter how the evening goes, the anxiety of getting to the date always puts a pretty heavy damper on the whole thing. At least with a normal first date, you know the guy/gal first. You don't have to worry about if he's cute, if you're going to get along, that kind of thing. Why? Because you at least know there's a small bit of common ground to base the date on. Even if it's just: oh hey, you're cute, let's go out! At least it's something. That's not the case with a blind date. And let me tell you, a blind date was kind of the last thing I ever wanted to go on. Okay, not kind of – it was. Who even does that anymore, anyway? Hello, we're in the twenty-first century. People don't set our friends up on blind dates, people go out with people they meet over the Internet and hope they aren't creepers.
Somehow, I let my best friend Morgan convince me that a blind date, on Valentine's Day of all days, would be an amazing idea. “Don't be alone on the most romantic holiday of the year!” she said. “That's the most pathetic thing you could ever do to yourself!”
No, the most pathetic thing is going on a date, just for the sake of going on a date, all because it's Valentine's Day. I had perfectly awesome plans made for my night alone at home: kung-fu movies and Chinese take-out. There were no plans to wallow bitterly either. Okay, maybe a little bit of wallowing. The point is, I didn't ask or need a blind date. Yet, Morgan was able to guilt me into going anyway. Then again, with a name as delicious as Jax, how could I go wrong?
So I put on my cute, tight, black pants with my matching corset top and long trench coat, and went to meet this guy at the swanky Brazilian barbeque restaurant downtown.
“Can I help you miss?” the hostess asked, looking up at me from her podium.
“I have a reservation. Should be under the name Jax?” Just saying his name gave me butterflies. It was so sexy. He had better have a tattoo… or five.
The hostess glanced over her list, nodded, and then picked up a menu to lead me to the table. I swallowed, following her, and immediately began to play with my dark hair. A nervous tic, and one I've always hated. It seems too obvious, you know what I mean? Plus, I didn't want to ruin my hair before I even got to meet my date. There was plenty of time to do that later. Wink, wink.
I went around at least five corners before I got to my table. We were way in the back of the restaurant which made for a nice private atmosphere, sure, but the anticipation made knots churn in my stomach.
“Your table,” the hostess said.
The table was the farthest from the front and tucked away in the corner. The young man sitting at the table with his back to the wall had the menu up over his face. He lowered it slowly, giving me a peek at a rather beautiful set of blue eyes, accompanied with tousled, dark hair. The menu was set onto the table top and he stood, giving me a better view. I had pictured tall, muscular, and a little rough on the edges. Some scruffy facial hair or maybe a scar, and an outfit that was more bad-boy-sexy than business casual.
Jax on the other hand was average height, clean-shaven, and wore a long-sleeved, navy button-down and khaki pants. The guy had some muscle definition, because I noticed how the shirt clung to his chest in all of the right ways, and his biceps bulged ever so slightly under the fabric. He worked out, which was always a plus, but there was more gentle than tough in him. Something about him was vaguely familiar too, and I couldn't quite put my finger on it.
“M-Mila right?” he asked. He actually stammered. I wasn't quite sure what to think about that. In some ways it's sweet that he was nervous en
ough to stutter, but it was also a little bit of a turn off. Okay, not a little bit – a lot.
I nodded, hoping that his nerves would pass and he'd take a chill pill soon. “That's me, and you're Jax.”
“Y-yeah.”
I'm pretty sure my smile twitched a little when he said it. “Nice to meet you.” Nice was not the kind of meeting I wanted to have.
Table of Contents
A Slow Burning Fire
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Epilogue
About the Author
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