Unrestricted

by Kimberly Bracco

  I give him a perplexed look, having no idea what he’s talking about.

  “I was referring to the press conference you gave earlier today. Davis called me and told me to turn on the TV because there was something on I might want to see.”

  “Oh,” I say. “I’m sorry if that was going too far, but there was no way I was going to let that fucking twat ruin the foundation for you. I can’t believe they would actually think something like that was true. For a bunch of educated people, they’re really a bunch of idiots.”

  “I can’t believe you did that for me. You were honestly the last person I’d ever have expected to speak up for me.”

  No matter how true that statement is, it’s still hurts. This man who has done everything within his power to help me piece my life back together couldn’t allow himself to believe he could count on me.

  “I know, Tanner, but that’s on me, not you. I know I have a lot to make up for.” I sigh, nestling in closer to him, still afraid that, at any moment, this will all disappear.

  Epilogue

  Tanner

  2 years later

  “I love it when you get all demanding,” I tell Ashley, nuzzling her neck and kissing that spot she loves so much under her ear.

  “I know. You’ve only got yourself to blame. You’ve created a monster,” she says, the smile evident in her voice.

  “I love my monster.” I smile at my wife. “Don’t you have some business to take care of?”

  “I knew there was an ulterior motive to you waking me up with your head between my legs,” she says, sitting up to stretch.

  The sheet falls from her shoulders in the process, revealing her torso and giving me a view of the most beautiful sight in the world. I could stare at her for hours, and I find myself completely entranced by her more often than not.

  Memories of her in her wedding gown flash through my mind. She’s beautiful every day, but on that day, her beauty shone through in ways I’d never seen before. Her hair had been clipped to the side and curled, framing her flawless face. Her eyes had practically glowed, the color of the ocean. She’d worn a smile so big her happiness was undeniable. I cried like a baby as soon as I saw her standing there at the end of the aisle. That day has been years in the making.

  I wish I could say that everything had been rainbows and sunshine for us after we’d gotten back together, but it wasn’t. We’d had a lot of things to overcome before we could move forward. After the press conference, things had started to look up for us, but neither one of us was naïve enough to believe everything would just fall back into place.

  After careful consideration, the foundation had found it was in their best interests to keep me on as their main spokesman. My fans had been outraged that they were even considering removing me based solely on a terrible rumor. Ashley had been a damn good actress. We both know that Melissa was right, even though Ash still denies it was my fault. Countless hours of therapy together still haven’t convinced me otherwise.

  Ashley had insisted I join in her therapy sessions, so we could start healing together. It was hard at first, admitting to a total stranger that I was the reason for all of Ashley’s struggles. They both attempted repeatedly to help me understand that fate has its own plans despite our best intentions. I’d eventually agreed with them just get to them to lay off, but deep down, I know this is my cross to bear. Ashley was right about one thing though: Daniel was a gift. Even though his life ended tragically before it had even begun, he brought Ashley back to me—well, him and that fucking bitch Melissa.

  Ashley and I ran into her once after the fallout from all the turmoil she’d caused, and she’d been shocked to see us together. I could tell Quinn has really rubbed off on her because Ashley had smiled the sweetest fake smile, thanked Melissa for bringing us back together, and then proceeded to show off the huge, princess-cut solitaire I’d given her when I’d asked to her to marry me. The satisfaction we’d gotten from the look on Melissa’s face was indescribable.

  “Are you coming?” Ashley calls from the bathroom.

  “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I most definitely will not miss this experience ever again. “How long do we have to wait?”

  “Three minutes.” She smiles. “Are you nervous?”

  “Not at all,” I say, coming to stand behind her at the bathroom counter, watching the plastic test that could change our lives resting right in the middle of it.

  “Why does three minutes have to be so long?” she asks.

  We decided about three months ago that it was time to try to add to our family again. Ashley had been disappointed when it didn’t happen during the first two months, but I told her it would happen when it was meant to and not to worry. The hope had been obvious in her eyes when she told me last night that her period was two days late. I’d immediately grabbed her hand and dragged to her to the car. We grabbed just about every test in stock from the shelf at the pharmacy, but the instructions on the boxes all seemed to be written in a foreign language. I’d wanted to her take one as soon as we got home, but she said that it was best to wait until morning.

  I woke up this morning earlier than usual, too excited to sleep, so I’d decided to wake Ash up with a few orgasms. What better way could there be to start off the day than with some bliss and hopefully a baby?

  I chuckle and take her hand. “It’s only three minutes, baby, and two of them have gone by already.”

  “I can’t look. Can you look and then let me know?” she asks, turning away from the counter and wrapping herself around me.

  I glance over her shoulder, looking at the window on the test, where the results are waiting.

  I drop to my knees and kiss Ashley’s bare stomach, a stomach that’s now holding the most precious thing in world.

  “Hello, baby. I’m your daddy.”

  Acknowledgments

  Where do I even begin?

  There’s been so much love and support behind this book. Never in a million years did I think people would embrace Tanner and Ashley in the way they have and I thank each and every reader from the bottom of my heart.

  My biggest thank you goes to amazing Isabelle Richards!! You have been the biggest help anyone could ever ask for!! I couldn’t have gotten any luckier the day Facebook brought us together!! You’re the best support system anyone could ever ask for and you happen to be one the most amazing people I’ve ever met! Thank you for being such a rock star!!

  Thanks to my hubby for being a huge support! I’ve changed careers as often as I change my underwear and he’s always been supportive no matter how crazy the new career I set my sights on can be. Love you!

  Yolanda Ann, Deanna Hill, Terri Peterson, and my street team, THANK YOU for taking your time to pimp out my book simply because you liked it!! It’s so amazing to have so many people in my corner!!

  Thank you to Ena and Enticing Journey Promotions for working your asses off putting together my blog tour, cover reveal, release blitz and thunderclap!! You absolutely rock and I’m so glad I chose you to promote my books!!

  Xoxo

  An Excerpt from Hate to Love You

  Isabelle Richards

  Releasing September 10, 2015

  Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.

  Damn! A freaking scuff on my Manolos. When a pair of shoes costs three grand, they should come with some sort of scuff protection. I think I’d pay ten grand for shoes with that guarantee.

  Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.

  Who the hell is this sofa designed for? My feet can barely reach the ground, and I’m 5’8”, most of it in my legs. I thought these places were supposed to make you comfortable. I can’t relax on this couch. It just makes me want to get out of here even faster.

  Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

  I’ve never noticed how loud a clock can be when you’re sitting in tortured silence. I can’t take this much longer.

  “So how does this work, exactly?” I ask, breaking the insufferable tension. “We’ve been s
taring at each other for the past twenty minutes. You’ve got a pretty sweet gig here if all you do is look at people in awkward silence all day.”

  Dr. Clawson smiles as she leans back in her beige overstuffed arm chair. “Arianna, you’re supposed to start. Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?”

  I shrug, looking down at the tips of my blond hair. Damn, I need a trim. “Nothing at all. I don’t have anything to share. I’m still not sure I see the point in this. No offense to your profession, but I’ve never found value in therapy. I know many people swear by it, but I don’t think I’m a good candidate. I have everything in my life under control.”

  “Okay, why don’t you tell me why you’re here then?” she asks.

  She holds a legal pad and pen, which makes me uncomfortable. I have no desire to share anything with her, let alone have her mark it down for the record. Nothing about her posture or presence is warming me up to bare my deepest, darkest secrets.

  I take a sip of my water and place it on the table next to me. “Why am I here? I was completely opposed to the idea of therapy, but my fiancé’s mother demanded I see someone. She and Henrik are both convinced I’m stressed, and they wouldn’t stop badgering me until I made an appointment. So, here I am.”

  “Are you stressed?” the psychologist asks.

  I run my fingers along the stitching of her bright red leather sofa. “Well, sure. Who isn’t stressed? I’m engaged, which comes with its own issues…”

  “Weddings are often stressful. Are your parents supportive?” she asks.

  “Yes, of course. The planning has been slow going, but Daddy’s great about it.” I smile condescendingly at her. “My mother passed away when I was young, but you probably know that already.”

  “Your mother’s passing was a highly publicized event. That must have been difficult for you.”

  I wave my finger back and forth and cluck my tongue. “My parents are not up for discussion. My mother’s death has been reported ad nauseam. We both know you know the details. If you don’t, feel free to google it when I leave. Regardless, we don’t need to dredge it up.”

  “Both your parents are very public personalities, which has put you in the public spotlight your whole life. That must have been very challenging.”

  I sit up straighter and push my shoulders back. “That isn’t why I’m here. Let’s just stay on track, shall we? My father is amazing. In fact, my whole family is amazing. I have no complaints. They are not the cause of my stress.”

  She holds up her pen as though she’s ready to start taking notes. “Do you have brothers or sisters?”

  As if she doesn’t already know. Why must she keep up this pretense that she doesn’t know mundane details about me already?

  “No, I’m an only child. When I say family, I include the Brennans. They’re like my extended family. When my mother died, my father’s best friend and his wife jumped in to help raise me. They’re like my surrogate parents. My best friend, Charlotte, is their daughter. I practically lived at their house growing up.” Dr. Clawson looks at me, perplexed. “Are they causing trouble with the wedding plans?”

  “No, they’re supportive. I’d be lost without them. Well, almost all of them.”

  She cocks her head to the side. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Charlie has a twin brother, Chase. We have a cantankerous relationship. It isn’t important. He’s not worth the breath it takes to talk about him.” Just the thought of him tightens the knots forming in my back.

  “Hmmm. How are things with your fiancé?” she asks.

  I avoid her uncomfortable stare by focusing on my nails. I really need a manicure. “Henrik? Henrik and I are great.”

  She makes notes on that blasted pad. “That’s good,” she says, not looking up. “Do you feel you have a strong relationship?”

  “Haven’t you seen Sports Illustrated? We’re the greatest sports couple since my parents. I think I saw it in your waiting room if you want to read up on us.”

  She looks up from her pad and smirks. “But do you feel you have a strong relationship? Communication? Support? Trust?”

  I smooth an invisible wrinkle on my skirt. “Henrik and I are a strong match.”

  “Hmmm,” she says, scribbling away.

  Would it be inappropriate to stab her with that pen? “What does ‘hmmm’ mean?”

  She finally puts down the legal pad. “Where do you feel your stress is coming from?”

  “Life is stressful,” I quip.

  “Arianna, I’m not the enemy. I’m not here to gather gossip, and I’m not going to judge you. Your fiancé said that you’re not eating or sleeping well. He said this is very uncharacteristic of you. Whatever you say in this room stays here. You can either make the most of your time with me and open up, or we can listen to the clock. The choice is entirely yours.”

  While listening to the clock is tempting, if I’m going to pay five hundred dollars an hour, I might as well participate. I cross my legs and try to release the tension in my body. “I recently returned home after being abroad for two years. Coming back has stirred up a lot of issues that I thought were resolved. I’m confident they’ll settle down and everything will get back on track.”

  “What sort of issues?”

  I take a long sip of water. “As I’m sure you know, I’ve had some major life changes during the last two years. I thought my life had evolved and I’d left behind unsavory aspects of my past, but since I returned home, I’ve started thinking I haven’t really moved on at all.”

  She looks at her watch. “Being obtuse only eats up the clock. It’s your dime.”

  I roll my eyes and tap my fingers on the sofa. “I’m in love, and I despise it. Just thinking about it makes me physically ill. He’s obnoxious, arrogant, and self-absorbed. Thinking of him makes my blood boil. We can’t be in the same room without wanting to kill each other. Despite all this, I love him. He’s like a parasite I can’t seem to eradicate.”

  She furiously takes notes again. “Your personalities are not compatible?”

  “We’re too much alike is the problem,” I answer.

  “Being too much alike doesn’t have to be a negative. If you work on your communication, you and Henrik can have a strong marriage.”

  I squint my eyes at her. “Henrik?” I ask. “This has nothing to do with Henrik.”

  She puts down her pad and furrows her brow. “I’m sorry. I’m confused.”

  “Chase. I’m talking about Chase Brennan. I’ve tried everything I can think of to expel him from my life, but I’m still in love with him.” I look at the clock. “Time’s up. Thanks for stirring all this up. I can’t say I’m feeling better.”

  She places her pad and pen on the end table. “It often takes more than one visit for patients to see improvement. Since we’ve identified the source of your stress, we can really start to make progress.” She looks at the MacBook on the table next to her. “You have an appointment scheduled for tomorrow. We can pick up then.”

  Slamming the door to Dr. Clawson’s office behind me, I storm down the hallway. Taking my stress out on the elevator button, I push it over and over, trying to will the doors to open. Cursing the elevator allows me to ignore what just transpired, but once the car arrives, memories from the appointment overtake my thoughts. I just admitted, out loud, that I’m still in love with Chase. It’s no longer an errant thought floating around in my mind. I’ve admitted it. To a perfect stranger.

  Once the words passed my lips, it made my feelings real. It’ll be hard to rationalize continuing my engagement to Henrik now. For months I’ve told myself our engagement is a good thing. On paper, we’re the perfect match. We complement each other… We’re good together; we understand each other. Few people in the world could relate to the lives we lead. But I’m not in love with him.

  I’ve never told Henrik that I love him, and that fact hasn’t really seemed to bother him. Shouldn’t that say something? He tells me he loves me all the time, but he
throws the word love around as if it’s going out of style. He loves everything and everyone—that’s just his personality. Nothing about his feelings for me make me feel as though I’m on a higher plane than his best friend, his dog, or the guy who cuts his hair. He loves us all, until something shiny catches his eye. Then he loves that too.

  Distracted by my thoughts, I walk to the wrong car in the parking lot. Red convertibles are a dime a dozen in California. After getting a dirty look from bitchy bimbo who acted as though I was casing her car, I pull out my key fob and keep pushing it until I see my car’s lights flash. That’s how frazzled I am—I confused a beat-up Miata for my Spyder.

  Perhaps I’m not fit for rush hour just yet. The last thing I need is to get into another accident because I couldn’t stop thinking about Chase. That would just make me hate him more. If only hating him absolved me from loving him.

  I put the top down and bask in the sun, searching for relief from a flood of Vitamin D. After twenty minutes, my mind is still racing, the humidity is making my curly hair frizzy, and I’m antsy. Sitting in this parking lot is just making me worse.

  Instead of driving home, I end up in Charlie’s driveway. This is one of the few times I’m thankful she knows about Chase and me. Loving your best friend’s brother makes things complicated, to say the least. That’s why Chase and I kept our relationship a secret from everyone. Our lives are so intertwined that we feared if things went sour, we’d lose more than each other. It’s a good thing we had that foresight, because the way we ended would have torn everyone apart.

  I never intended to tell anyone—it was going to be my deep dark burden to bear. But one drunk and embarrassing evening, Charlie and her new husband, Spencer, pulled me out of a bar, and I let it all come out. I blame it all on Johnny Walker and Kenny Rogers. And Chase, of course. Somehow, all the wrongs in the world manage to be his fault. I’m excellent at playing six degrees of how Chase is to blame.

  Before I knock on the red door of her white Colonial in Pacific Heights, I soak in her exceptional view of the Golden Gate. While coming back to San Francisco after a two-year hiatus has clearly stirred up drama, I sure missed its beauty. There’s no place like home.