“I didn’t ask you anything yet, but I think now is the time.” He pulled the blindfold off her.
She blinked and brought her world into focus.
They stood at the end of the runway. Every person in the audience now stood up out of their chairs clapping, and her breath caught as she took in her latest ensemble. Yards and yards of white satin made up what she would call one of the most incredible wedding dresses she had ever seen. Tight at the bodice with a flowing skirt, and an overlay of black lace she bought the day after she met Blake. He even put her griffon necklace on her.
In all the research she conducted on fashion shows, it wasn’t unusual for a designer to end his or her show with a wedding dress, and she looked into his eyes.
“This is not part of the Luna collection.” He brought her hand to his lips. “It’s the first piece in my new line, Astra. You inspired it in me. We already created anarchy, this time we will go to the stars.”
A new line, but the same muse. She took her first full breath since the moment she realized she loved him.
“I am the type of man who needs my muse forever. They say griffons mate for life.” Suddenly, he got down on one knee and held a jewelry box out to her.
Her heart practically stopped. Jewelry boxes were meant to hold only one item.
He flipped the top open and plucked a ring out, holding it out to her. An amazing thick yellow gold band with a matching griffon on black onyx in the center and surrounded by yellow diamonds. “I love you. Will you wear that dress to our wedding?”
The applause, the music, the electricity in the air all overwhelmed her. Did she dare admit this was what she wanted? The conventional romantic ending, the one where they walked off together and lived the happily ever after? She turned and glanced over at her brother, the only person in the room who ever stayed by her side until Blake. Her brother gave her a thumbs-up.
“I asked you a question.” Blake stared up at her.
She focused on the love of her life. “My heart is complete knowing we’ll never part. From the day we met, you owned my heart.” Though it was frowned upon on the runway, she broke out into a huge smile as he slipped the amazing ring on her finger.
He stood up and took her into his arms, bending her back. “You will forever by my La Luna, my love and my muse.”
Inspiration it sparkles, gives meaning and light,
With him by my side I may have found my knight.
She remembered writing those words while she watched him work. “You are my muse.”
He brought his lips to hers then began making his way back down the runway. “So, when do you want to get married?”
Everything about their relationship had been about instinct, going with her gut, living the experience.
She stopped him before they disappeared backstage and took in the club once more. There was only one answer. “The New Moon on Monday.”
The End
About the Author
Kim Carmichael
Kim Carmichael began writing nine years ago when her love of happy endings inspired her to create her own.
A Southern California native, Kim’s contemporary romance combines Hollywood magic with pop culture to create quirky characters set against some of most unique and colorful settings in the world.
With a weakness for designer purses, bad boys and techno geeks, Kim married her own computer whiz after he proved he could keep her all her gadgets running and finally admitted handbags were an investment.
Kim is a PAN member of the Romance Writers of America, as well as some small specialty chapters. A multi-published author, Kim’s books can be found on Amazon as well as Barnes & Noble.
When not writing, she can usually be found slathered in sunscreen trolling Los Angeles and helping top doctors build their practices.
To find out more about Kim Carmichael visit:
Website: http://www.kimcarmichaelauthor.com/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/kimcarmichaelnovels
Twitter: @kimcarmichael4
Amazon
Novels:
The Indelibly Marked Series –
Permanent
Temporary
Trifecta
On the Dotted Line
Novellas:
Closure
Predictions
Eternity
Pieces of Three
Shorts:
Interchangeable
The Promise
Hands On Me
Children’s Book:
My Daddy Wears His Art
A man dreams of an extraordinary love
hoping his dreams can survive in an
Ordinary World
by
Solera Winters
Dedication
For all those who find inspiration in dreams.
Acknowledgements
Sensei-for everything
Kim-for being a great mentor
The DD author crew,
Louisa for the opportunity
And the music of my youth
A Note from the Author
I loved Ordinary World from the first time I heard it and it has rather haunted me since. When the box set opportunity came up, I knew immediately that I needed to write a story which fit the feeling I had that first time listening.
~ Solera Winters
Chapter One
FIVE MINUTES LATER than his normal arrival time, Yancy Howard burst into the coffee shop. Because of the warm spring day, he ordered an iced mocha instead of his regular black with two sugars. He debated over ordering a muffin, but decided against it, the vacillation causing him yet a further delay. At the cashier, he paid and turned to head toward an outside table, but the woman ahead of him halted. The abruptness of her stop startled him, and before he could alter directions, his coffee landed on the floor. The sweet concoction was forgotten as the woman at the center of the small pileup spun toward him.
"I'm so sorry." Her brownish red hair spilled out of a haphazard bun, but her eyes captivated him. Sea blue almost turquoise—he had an urge to go deep sea diving.
Taken aback, he barely mumbled an, "It's okay," before he knelt to address the mess. The delay would add to his tardiness, but this unexpected encounter threw him for a bigger loop than making him late for work.
"Let me." She turned toward the counter and asked the barista for a rag. "Also, could you make another iced--" Her face tilted toward him.
"Mocha. But it's okay, you don't have to do that, it was my clumsiness." The name of the game in his life journey.
"Nonsense." Returning with the towel, she began sopping up the ice and liquid.
"Jesus, I don't have all day." A young man in a suit stared at him. "Move out of the way nerdnick." His gaze traveled to Yancy's pants clipped at the ankle to keep them out of the bicycle chain. "Are you late for band practice?"
Before Yancy could think of an appropriate comeback, he stood open-mouthed when the woman jumped up from mopping the floor. "You just wait a minute." With her hands on her rounded hips she looked like a super hero from his favorite comic book, not that he'd ever let her know he still kept up with the series he started reading in junior high. "He did nothing. It's all my fault. If you have to blame someone, look right here." She jerked a thumb at her magnificent chest.
Yancy couldn't help but admire the view. Maybe she took a little bit of his heart right then.
The man sneered. "I don't have time for this crap. I need to get to work." With that, he made a big swing around the incident.
"Now, you really didn't need to do that." Did she think he was a baby in need of protection? The thought dismayed him. More than anything, he wanted her to see him as strong, competent and, yes if it wasn't too much to ask, a romantic possibility.
"What? Aren't I allowed to stand up to a rotten bully?" The fire in those eyes sparked on him.
"You're allowed to do whatever you like. I'm just saying that I can stand up for myself."
She grinned. "Of course you can."
&
nbsp; The barista interrupted them. "Here's the iced mocha.”
His rescuer paid for the drink and presented it to him. "Thanks for your patience."
A glance at his watch told him what he already knew. It was too late to invite her to sit in the bright spring morning while they sipped their coffees. "You know, while I'd love to repay you for your kindness, I really have to be going."
"Have a great one." Her cheery tone served to add another level of frustration.
When he got back to his bicycle, he could have kicked himself. At least he could have gotten her phone number. For a Ph.D. computer scientist, sometimes he was so stupid. He drained his coffee faster than was smart and mounted the cycle. In the parking lot, she entered a small silver coupe.
At the street he rolled to a stop beside her. He balanced the bike and glanced over at her. Her sea blue eyes caught his. A familiar 80s song on her radio drifted to his ears. His breath ceased for a moment. Transfixed, he could only stare as he had in the shop. Her smile only added to the ethereal beauty, which had enthralled him from first seeing her. The laws of probability of ever meeting up with a woman he glimpsed for a moment during a rush hour coffee stop ran into the thousands at least. His mind ran the numbers, and yet, he couldn't stop hoping he could defy the odds. He saluted her with a fist to his ear, a gesture borrowed from his favorite cult sci-fi show. When she pulled on her nose, the appropriate response to his Quarkanian salute, he nearly fell over. This woman was his future wife. He would defy the odds.
The next moments passed in a blur. The light turned green, she accelerated, and he pedaled forward.
Tires screeched. The terrible crash of metal split the air around him. Her car spun toward him barely, and Yancy skidded. In an instant, his bike was on the ground and he was face up on the pavement looking up at puffy white clouds in an azure sky. Stunned, he twisted his head toward the woman's car. She lay forward against the airbag, her long hair hiding her face from view. His world turned black.
When he woke in the ambulance, the siren blared. He attempted to move, but straps restrained him. "Hey, what's going on?"
"Calm down, sir. You're in the ambulance and we're headed to Medical Center." A uniformed young woman sat on a bench next to him.
His head pounded, and his arm throbbed. He tried flexing his fingers and it only increased the pain. "Ow." They'd put on a splint to immobilize it.
"Are you in a lot of pain? Where does it hurt?" The woman hurled questions at him.
"My head, my arm. Actually everything sort of throbs." Something niggled at the edge of his mind. Something important. He scanned his memory, but nothing came forward. Work perhaps? No, that didn't click.
The ambulance driver spoke. "ETA two minutes. The unit that took the woman from the coupe in is ahead of us. But your patient is stable, right Emma?"
"Yes," the young woman, evidently Emma, replied. "His vitals are stable, he's conscious. How about the truck driver?"
"No news on him yet."
At the words woman from the coupe, his memory slammed back in place. The woman, his woman, well, his dream wife was driving the coupe. In addition to his aching body, his stomach flipped over, threatening to expel its contents of his inhaled iced coffee over the ambulance.
"How is she?" he asked.
The young woman took his pulse, but didn't answer his question.
"Emma? That's your name, right? How is the woman from the coupe?"
"I'm sorry, sir. I didn't work on her, just you."
The siren went silent and the ambulance stopped. The world rushed around him as they lifted his gurney out and rolled him into the emergency room. A nurse greeted him, started taking his vitals, and rattled questions off at a mile a minute. Through all of the chaos, it was the commotion he glimpsed when a curtain opened that captured his attention. The woman from the coupe, the one he claimed in his mind, lay battered and bruised on a bed. Several doctors and nurses huddled around her with serious expressions.
His nurse handed him a clipboard. "We need your insurance information and if there's someone you'd like us to notify, put the number on the form." The nurse left.
He craned his neck to see around her, but the curtain was closed.
"I'm praying for her." A woman in street clothes stood with the light haloing her blonde head. "We'll see."
"Do you know her?" He glanced back toward the curtain, but it didn't open even a crack.
Her bright blue eyes seemed to bore into him. "I've known her since she was born."
"You must be her sister then. Tell me, what's her name?" The earnest anxiety in his voice must have made her take pity on him. Otherwise why would she look at him, a stranger, so kindly.
"Tessa, Tessa Kaye Toussaint." She patted his arm, and a strange warmth entered his body.
Though different than the heat he experienced when Tessa returned the Quarkanian salute, nevertheless the comforting sensation served to calm him. "Thank you."
The nurse returned. "We're going to keep you under observation for the next twenty four hours. You have a pretty bad bump on your head. Probably why you lost consciousness. The doctor wants to take an X-ray of that arm, so the orderlies will deliver you to radiology."
They were already wheeling him away when he remembered Tessa's sister. He turned to find her, to tell her his name and ask if she might update him on Tessa's status. The woman had disappeared. "If you see that woman who was talking to me, please tell her my room number once I get settled."
The nurse's brow wrinkled. "What woman? No one has been with you that I've seen."
"Uh, well, she must have left before you got back."
"Yancy, I've kept an eye on you while I was entering your data into the computer." She fastened a hospital ID bracelet on his good wrist.
"Strange, she was here talking with me. I think she must be Tessa's sister." His head hurt struggling to make sense of everything. Maybe it was a good thing he was going to be under observation.
"Tessa?" The round-faced woman was probably in her forties he guessed. She reminded him of a motherly type, slightly older than his mother.
"The girl in there." He nodded toward the curtain. "She was in the same accident."
"Oh. Yes. Do you know her then? We've been searching for an emergency contact for her." Her tone gave away nothing as to the patient's condition.
"No, sorry." He sighed. "I only hope to get to know her. If her sister comes back, would you ask her to visit me in my room?"
"I think it's a good thing the doctors are keeping you for observation." Her doubting but concerned expression told him she still didn't believe he was talking about a real person. "Besides, as I said, we haven't found an emergency contact for her yet, so I don't believe a sister or anyone else could have been notified."
Through the fogginess of the pain his confusion increased. "Could I have something for the pain?"
"After doctor has a looksee, he'll prescribe your meds."
The orderly approached them.
While the nurse gave the instructions, he perked his ears to listen for any sound or clue about Tessa. All he heard were the urgent voices of the medical staff. The few words he could make out gave him no real information. "Stat," and a particularly gruff voice said, "I need it now. BP is dropping."
Blood pressure dropping did not sound good. Was her condition more serious than he thought? He hoped not. His eyes closed against the possibility. Instead he focused on a future where they were both well and going on their first date, and then the second. Those thoughts provided a serenity close to what he experienced with the woman's touch. As they wheeled him to radiology, he held onto that feeling of well-being, hoping it boded well for both him and Tessa.
Chapter Two
ONCE THE PAIN MEDS kicked in, he slept and dreamed a strange dream hovering between wakefulness and sleep. Tessa's sister came in and while it felt like he slept on, she spoke to him as if he were awake. Then things got weird, really weird, like out of this world weirder than Quarkanian w
eird.
"Yancy, Tessa needs you, she needs your strength." Her voice floated over him, a soft downy comforter.
In this dream-not dream, he carried on his part of the conversation. "She doesn't know me."
"Her soul knows you. During these next few days, you'll get to know one another." She smiled and patted his arm. The same strange heat radiated from her touch. "Have faith, that's the most important message I can relay, keep the faith."
His mind wandered, no doubt the influence of the meds, but he managed to ask, "Faith? In what? I'm not one of those religious people. Facts and science, that's what I can place my faith in."
"Yet there is something within you that wants to believe, and if given a little nurturing, it will bloom." How could Tessa's sister know anything about him?
"Um, by the way, I'm not her sister."
Had he spoken aloud? His brain was mush, so maybe he had. "Then who are you? A nurse, a doctor?"
Her wink took him off guard, adding to the surreal nature of the encounter. No one winked except online or in the movies. "I think it's better if we leave it at this for now. You're not ready for the full story."
"Wait a minute. You come in here, with me all high on medication, and you expect me to just go with the flow, ask no questions?" In the strange dream/wakeful moment, he struggled to sit up, but his limbs wouldn't move.
She placed a hand on his chest, urging him to lay still. "Trust your heart. It won't lead you wrong. What does it say about Tessa?"
At the reminder of Tessa, he sank back against the pillows. "It's the craziest thing, but it's like I'm connected to her. How can that be? I haven't even spoken to her."
"When soulmates meet the spark ignites. A little flame kindles to life. That's what you felt. Sometimes people feel it and do nothing about it. Some are so wrapped up in other concerns they don't even feel the spark of recognition. Occasionally, and much less frequently than it used to occur in the busy-ness of the ordinary world, the person listens to the heart and acts on it. When you saluted Tessa this morning, it was your moment of recognition."
Come Undone: Romance Stories Inspired by the Music of Duran Duran Page 13
