by Wood, Vivian
Only, Mary was sneaking more glances at Milo, Rhys and Luc who were casually draped over the couches in the lounge, than focusing on her frosting. Luc and Rhys were strumming their guitars and all three were singing along to some old Misery tune, trying to decide who could do the best imitation of Jett. Their music was interspersed with shots of laughter as they tried to outdo one another with what they called their “Jett moves.”
“So,” she drew her attention back to their conversation. “I have some news. I’ve been accepted to the Otis College of Art and Design! I start in the spring!” She watched with bated breath as she froze, threw her hands up over her head and started swinging them around, her “whooo hoooo!” resonating through the house. “Congratulations, girl! I knew you would get in! I knew it!” She threw her arms around Serena and hugged her tight.
The guys stopped their fooling around at Mary’s cheers and she felt Rhys’ strong arms wrap around her waist. “You told her, then?” he asked, pride ringing in his voice. She had been reluctant to start actually applying to schools, convinced she wasn’t good enough to get in. Rhys wouldn’t take no for an answer and patiently but doggedly insisted she apply. He had been with her every step of the way and seemed as excited as she was.
“I did!” She beamed at his twinkling eyes and he rewarded her with a soft kiss. “I’m so proud of you love, you’re going to be great!” he whispered against her ear, his breath washing over her skin, sending shivers up her spine. Instead of dwindling with time like she had expected, the effect that Rhys had on her became stronger every day. And she thanked her lucky stars for him every morning when she woke up next to her living, breathing dream come true.
Rhys and her had decided to move to the house in Malibu about a month after they had gotten back together. It was more peaceful here, they were more relaxed and they had more time to themselves - which had been the deciding factor after the third time she'd been on the brink of orgasm only for someone to knock on the door looking for the bathroom or a spontaneous party broke out at the house in the Hills. It might have been Rhys’ place, but it was way too convenient for the guys to move - or organize - their parties there. Something that they had taken to for a while there, claiming to miss having them around all the time.
There was a lot less foot traffic here. The guys were here all the time and Mary and Katie visited often, but it was different- no groupies, executives or lawyers in sight and the only parties they hosted were the ones they actually wanted to have, when they wanted to have them, with the people that they invited.
Well, the guys minus Anders for now - were here all the time. Once he was released, she had no idea whether they would stick to the plan to record from the studio here or if Anders would insist on recording elsewhere.
It had been hell getting him to agree to rehab. Finally, first Rhys and then the others had gotten him to agree by refusing to start recording the new album until he got clean. Deacon threw a complete shitfit - it had been glorious to behold - and threatened that the label would drop them if they didn’t start recording immediately. As the family that they were, Misery had stood their ground against the threats - shrugging them off in their ”devil-may-care” way until Anders agreed to go just to “shut them the fuck up” as he had put it.
And the press? Annie was a complete genius! The band had announced that they were taking a bit of a break before their next album was released, claiming exhaustion from the pace they’d been keeping up for the last five years. Somehow, no one had found out about Anders having been admitted to rehab. As far as the world knew, he was backpacking across Europe. Photos of his trip even showed up on his Instagram page every now and then.
Luc’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. He hopped up from the couch now, clearly distracted by something on the giant Christmas tree Rhys and she had set up. “That’s my face!” he exclaimed, examining the personalized baubles she had ordered.
“Cool, huh?” Rhys shot at him, still holding her in his arms. “Serena found this place online that you send pictures of your family to and they turn your pictures into Christmas tree decorations.”
“Awesome!” Milo bellowed, having joined Luc at the tree. “Our faces have been on some crazy shit, bro, but this is the fucking best!” He examined the baubles delicately, his face almost reverent. “Thanks Serena, this is really cool!” he added, his voice softer now. “So much cooler than that range of vibrators.” He let out a peal of laughter and ducked out.
She'd gotten to know Milo, Luc and Jett quite well over the course of the last few months. None of them had had easy childhoods and she doubted they had any good Christmas memories, so she'd wanted to create a special family Christmas for them. Especially since Rhys had told her that their Misery Christmas tradition was to get slaughtered on the 24th and stay that way till past New Year's.
Definitely time for new traditions, so she'd banned alcohol from “New Christmas” - yes, there had been a lot of complaining- and she planned on stuffing them with cupcakes and warm memories instead.
“You know what time Jett will be here?” Milo asked, sharing a look with Rhys as he settled back on his couch.
Rhys had had this strange, nervous energy these last few days and while he had been relaxed the last few hours fooling around on the guitars, it returned with a vengeance at Milo’s question.
“Yeah,” she said, glancing at her watch. “He texted me when he left the house, he should be here any minute now.” Rhys planted a kiss on the top of her head and whispered a soft ”love you” before bounding outside. “I’m going to get some fresh air before he gets here,” he pronounced over his shoulder, Luc in tow.
He was acting really weird, but she wasn't worried. He would tell her what was going on when he was ready to. She had grown completely confident in their relationship, in him, so she trusted him implicitly. Stupid maybe, but she was in love, and he hadn't given her a reason to doubt him. He’d been honest with literally the whole world about being in a relationship. Most of his followers on social media seemed happy that he was happy, but the rest had been downright vicious toward her.
Her train of thought was interrupted by a knock on the door. “Ah, that must be him now, Miles,” she said to Milo, who nodded as he rose from his position on the couch. “I’ll get it. How are the cupcakes coming, ladies?”
She spun with a flourish as she set the last one down. “Done.” She was bummed that Katie wasn't here, but she’d promised that her last minute change of plans was important…
Rhys and Luc had made their way back inside, and Rhys followed Milo to the front door while Luc was back to examining the personalized baubles on the Christmas tree. Mary and Serena joined him. “Oh look, I’m here, too!” Mary cried happily at spotting her bauble. “Of course you are, Mare. You’re like a sister to me, you know that!” she declared, noticing that silence had fallen at the front door.
Milo stepped aside to reveal Jett - with Anders at the door. Jett stepped inside and he and Milo talked quietly as they joined everyone. Rhys and Anders stared at one another, neither making a move to talk or walk - or fight for that matter, so that was something. At the same time, they each took a step toward the other and then exchanged a long hug, thumping on each other’s back in that way that men do. Then they shook hands and both broke into grins as they walked toward the rest of them.
To her surprise, Anders pulled her in for a hug as well after exchanging another back- thumping hug with Luc. Mary seemed stunned again, he was the last member of Misery she had to meet and her starstruck expression was fixed firmly on her face again. Serena stomped on her foot lightly, and her face returned to normal.
“I’m happy you’re here, Anders. Really fucking ecstatic actually!” Rhys announced. “There’s something really big that I’ve been meaning to do and it’ll be great to get your support.” Milo, Luc and Jett lit up with smiles that made the lights on the Christmas tree seem dim as Rhys slid down on to one knee and took her hands in his, staring up at her with bright
, insanely beautiful eyes.
Her breath hitched and her heart stopped. What now? Was he… No! He couldn't be!
“Serena, my princess, my angel, my love. That first time I went down on my knees for you, I hadn’t been planning to, the idea came to me in that moment staring at you over that kitchen counter and it just felt right. Felt right just like every day feels with you, and I think a part of me knew even in that moment that you are the love of my life. I knew deep down inside that something was happening, changing, in me. My heart nearly stopped when you said yes, and every day that you have said yes to being with me after that brought light to my black soul, a love that runs so deep that my heart feels like it’s going to explode with it every time I look at you, and a life filled with joy beyond anything I could ever have imagined. Will you marry me?”
“Yes, yes of course I will!” she gasped, tears springing to her eyes. He broke into the happiest, widest grin as he slid an ornately designed diamond ring onto her finger and pulled her into a deep kiss that set her body on fire instantaneously. And he wanted to be hers forever!
“I’m the luckiest girl in the world!” she murmured against his lips as their kiss broke and she became aware of the cheers of their family around them for the first time. “I can’t believe that we’ll get to feel this way forever!”
He stared into her eyes, still holding their faces close together. “Feel this way forever,” he mused. “That’s actually not a bad name for the new album, maybe it’s finally time we really get into making a new one.”
Rock Me Extended Epilogue!
If you liked this story, there’s a little bit more of Serena and Rhys for FREE! Just make sure you’re a part of Vivian’s Vixens mailing list, and you will receive the extended epilogue automatically on or before February 26th, 2017!
If you liked Rock Me…
For a limited time, you will get SEAL’s Kiss for FREE! Read on to begin the adventure.
SEAL’s Bride
For Margaret, without whom this book would not exist.
1
Four Years Earlier
Remy River stood amongst the sugarcane buds, the tiny, grainy, black and white picture laying flat in her hand. Tiny green shoots were just beginning to poke through the dirt around her boots, the sign of burgeoning life all around her.
Biting her lip, Remy held in the tumult of emotions she felt. Tucking the picture into the back pocket of her jeans, she walked across the rich, dark soil of her family’s sugarcane farm.
Her cowboy boots left neat tracks in the soft soil as she walked to the tallest point on her family’s lands. From the big hill, she could look right across at Roman Ranch. She could see his house from here, if she squinted.
No Sawyer, though.
Her high school love, the prom king to her prom queen. Tall, dark, and handsome to her fair-skinned blonde beauty. The perfect couple… until he joined the Navy.
He’d left Remy in the dusty quiet of their shared past, and moved on to what she presumed were much more exciting things. Sawyer was probably capturing terrorists and winning medals right this second, and what was she doing?
When he’d come home to visit two months ago, Remy’d known he wasn’t here to stay. The same song had been playing on the same radio, and just like always, she hadn’t been able to resist his heated looks, the way his touch lit her up inside.
She bit her lip, feeling tears begin to well up as she pulled out the photo again.
The sonogram. A little white blob surrounded by darkness.
Her baby.
She ran a fingertip over the image, swiping at the tears that spilled down her face before they could splash onto the photo.
She couldn’t stop thinking about the last night that Sawyer was in town, and all the sweet things he’d whispered. He’d told her that he couldn’t write much — SEALs didn’t stay in one place too long.
He’d made promises… promises that she wanted badly to believe…
Still, she’d rose at dawn and left him sleeping in his room, slipping away with the sunrise. She loved Sawyer, loved him with all her heart, but when he didn’t write…
She was hurt, but not surprised.
No, the surprise had come today. She’d gone to the town doctor, complaining of fatigue. The last thing in the world she had thought was that she might be pregnant…
She pressed a hand to her flat stomach, uncomprehending.
“What am I going to do?” she whispered, her words blowing away in the cool spring wind.
She was 25 years old, no longer a girl. She’d made a mistake, a huge one. And she had no living idea how she was going to fix it.
She had a part-time job at a bar in town, lived at home in a house that was already cramped with five other people. She’d gone to community college, but never made it any further.
The father of her child was halfway across the world, serving in the military and not answering her letters. She could tell Sawyer’s father, perhaps… but even the idea of telling Colonel Roman made her cringe. She didn’t know what the retired Navy man would say, but it wouldn’t be kind.
At least Sawyer has good genes, she thought. My baby will be healthy.
She pictured herself holding a newborn, looking down at a baby with those stunning hazel eyes.
Sawyer’s eyes.
A low sound escaped Remy’s lips. She sank to her knees, burying her face in her hands.
Stupid, stupid, she thought. I’ve been so stupid. Now I’m all alone…
She let herself cry for a few minutes, releasing all the pent-up anger and fear and worry in her heart. When she’d exhausted her rage and self-loathing, she straightened and blew out a breath.
She looked at the little photo again, damp and wrinkled from her tears. She smoothed it out, trying to calm herself.
She could cry all she wanted, but there were certain inescapable facts.
One, she was pregnant.
Two, she’d keep the baby, no matter what.
Three, people were going to talk.
Four, her life was about to become very difficult.
Five, she was going to have to do this on her own.
At this precise moment, she didn’t even know if Sawyer was alive, much less if he was interested in coming home to help her parent a baby.
Actually, the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she might not even tell him. After all, if Sawyer wanted to be in her life, he could’ve called or written. Instead, she’d received nothing but radio silence.
That made his intentions pretty damned clear, didn’t it?
The sooner she came to terms with all of that, the better off she’d be. Wiping away the last of her tears, she took a deep breath.
“I can do this,” she said. “I can do this myself.”
Not that there was anything to decide, per se… but the act of self-reassurance made her feel better. Made her feel like there was a chance that this would work out. That she wasn’t going to spend every minute of the rest of her life looking at Sawyer’s child and regretting the life they could’ve had…
No, she told herself. He’s made his bed, as I have mine. I need to put him out of my head, because I have way bigger things to worry about. This baby needs me now.
Tucking the photo back in her pocket, Remy strode down the hill, leaving her tears behind her.
2
Current Day
Cruising out I-10 West through central Louisiana, Sawyer Roman felt as though he was driving into the past. The sense of deja vu that clung to him had started the moment he stepped off the plane in New Orleans, and only grew with each passing mile.
After a quick stop in the city to pick up his gleaming black Range Rover from the garage where he’d stored it during his last deployment, he headed west toward Catahoula Creek, Louisiana. It was his childhood home; a land of hot sun and sugarcane fields, Sunday church socials and marsh life, and Creole fiddles and Cajun cowboys.
It was a place deeply steeped in the ritu
als of farm life and family-almost 7000 miles from the heat, dust, and civil unrest of the Middle East.
After six years in the dust and churning violence of Afghanistan, Sawyer thought that Bear Creek should have seemed like some kind of shining oasis. He couldn’t decide if he should have been disappointed that it didn’t beckon to him, or glad that he’d grown out of his Atchafalaya roots.
After all, no one in Catahoula was going to tear the whole town down with a remotely-activated grenade launcher. No helicopters falling out of the sky to rip down the walls of already-crumbling apartment buildings. No need to constantly look over his shoulder, wondering not if but when hostiles would creep up behind him.
Sawyer looked out the window as ashy brown fields dotted with green blurred past. It was August, so the sugarcane was low and bright green, the new growth just beginning to poke up from the ground.
Though Sawyer’s family raised cattle and horses, growing up in south Louisiana had burned the life cycle of sugarcane into his mind forever. Planting, tilling, burning, harvest…
Sometimes when he was laid up in his bunk at Camp Leatherneck, he’d try to reconcile the current date with life back in Catahoula. The seasons barely changed in Afghanistan, not like they did back in the States.
He’d drift off to sleep as he tried imagine his high school friends walking amongst the tall green sugarcane stalks, wondering if the season was rainy enough for a good harvest.
He hadn’t been back for almost four years, too busy burying himself in the high-stakes missions of a Navy SEAL. He’d sort of thought, in the back of his mind, that he’d be a Lifer. That he’d just stay in service until he got killed, or got discharged due to injury or age.
Never in his service days had Sawyer taken more than a handful of moments to contemplate the future. If he was truthful with himself, he’d always just sort of vaguely planned to stay the hell out of Louisiana.
