Out of Mind

by Jen McLaughlin

  I smiled. We’d spent the summer with them, getting to know each other better. I could almost say that they actually liked me now. They got to see the “me” I was without the pain and grief. It had been good for us. Thank you, sir.

  I still couldn’t believe how much he’d changed. But then again, we’d all changed. I sure as hell had, and so had Carrie. It stood to reason that he would have, too.

  My phone buzzed again. Talk to you later.

  “Who was that?” Carrie asked, smoothing her hair and coming up beside me.

  “Your dad.” I slipped my phone into my pocket and offered her my arm. “He was wishing me luck.”

  “Oh, that’s nice. I bet he—” She checked her phone and frowned. “Hey. I got nothing.”

  I shrugged. “What can I say? I’m the favorite child now.”

  “Only because you can talk with him in his study for hours about politics without getting bored.” She pouted, stealing a peek at me. “I had to escape. He can’t blame me. Even Riley left after an hour.”

  I laughed. “That’s ’cause he’s not as cool as me.”

  “I know it.” She wrapped her hand around my bicep. “But after we spent all summer living with them, I think my father really does love you more than me in some ways—and I love that fact, just for the record.”

  “That’s not true.” I grinned. “Okay. Maybe it’s a little bit true.”

  She smacked my abs with her free hand. “Ha-ha, really funny, fresh meat.”

  “Hey, you promised not to call me that.”

  She laughed. “No, I promised not to call you that in bed. I didn’t say anything about not doing it here. And I never promised not to laugh at you if you get lost on campus.”

  “Brat,” I said, kissing her temple. I slid my bag higher on my shoulder and handed her hers. “Somehow I think I’ll be fine, though, with or without your help.”

  “You think?” She smiled at me. “Are you ready for this?”

  “Of course I am.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ve been on this campus since last year. What difference is taking a few classes going to make?”

  “Tell me that when you’re buried in homework later this week.”

  I readjusted so I could put my arm over her shoulder. “As long as you help me study? I won’t give a damn.”

  “You know I will.” She wrapped her arm around my waist and hesitated. “You know…I was thinking.”

  “Sounds dangerous,” I quipped.

  She smacked my arm. “Stop it.”

  “Fine. I’ll behave.” I grinned and yanked my bag up higher on my shoulder. “What’s up?”

  “We’re going to be studying so much, and at the same school, so I thought,” she peeked up at me, “maybe I could move in with you? I mean, I practically live there now, but we could make it official.”

  I stopped walking, my heart thundering in my ears. “R-Really? You want to?”

  “I do.” She smiled up at me. “If you do.”

  “Fuck yes.” I picked her up and swung her in a circle. “Yes! Are you sure?”

  “I’m as positive as a proton,” she said, grinning.

  “Me too.”

  She laughed, and the melody washed over me, washing away any nerves I had—that I’d deny I had if anyone asked. I had her with me. What could ever possibly go wrong? She loved me, and I loved her.

  Life was fucking good.

  I kissed her, my mouth melding to hers perfectly. Which made sense, since she was made for me. I pulled back and grinned so big my cheeks fucking hurt. “If we weren’t on our way to class, I’d celebrate this with you my favorite way—naked and wet.”

  Desire flared in her eyes. “Meet you out here at twelve for a nooner at home?”

  “Yes.” I kissed her one last time. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  I looked to the left and sighed. “I have to go this way to my economics class.”

  “And I go this way to trigonometry.” She backed away from me, our fingers still entwined. “Then tonight, we’ll tell my dad together? About us living together?”

  I groaned, not letting go. “Do we have to? He liked me, but will he like this?”

  “I don’t know.” She grinned. “But we’ll find out the best way possible.”

  “Together.”

  “Always,” she said, looking at me with so much love it almost hurt. “Now get your butt to class, freshman.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I let go of her reluctantly. “Look in your bag first, though.”

  She reached in and pulled out a yellow rose. Grinning, she read the message. “I’ll miss you. Love me.” I’d ended the note the same way as I had the day we’d gotten back together. It was easily one of the best days of my life. She looked up at me, her blue eyes shining in the sun. “I’ll miss you, too. And I do.”

  I blew her a kiss. “Stay in class and don’t wander off, since I won’t be watching you.”

  She laughed and called out over her shoulder, “You worry about me too much. Good luck!”

  “I’ll never worry enough when it comes to you,” I said under my breath, watching her walk away. She took my heart with her, but I knew it would be safe in her hands.

  Always.

  Seven years later

  I watched Carrie from across the room, my arms tightening on the precious bundle in my arms as I juggled the phone with my free hand. She stretched her arms up, trying to get the last ornament on the perfect branch toward the top of the tree, her lips pursed in determination. The pink rose I’d given her earlier lay on the table behind her, the message still attached to the stem.

  “Are you still there?”

  “Yeah, sorry.” I forced myself to focus on the conversation I was having with Carrie’s father. “We’ll be there first thing in the morning for Christmas breakfast.”

  “Coffee starts at eight,” her dad said. I heard paper crinkling, which probably meant he was wrapping his presents at the last minute like usual. “Did Carrie tell you to make the fruit salad? She told me she would remember.”

  I laughed. “Yeah. It’s all ready to go. We’ll see you tomorrow, sir. Tell Margie I said merry Christmas.”

  My father-in-law sighed. “If I ever finish wrapping these godforsaken presents, I will. I should really just hire someone to do it.”

  But he wouldn’t, because he liked doing it. “Well, good luck. I have to hang up now, because your daughter needs help with the tree.”

  “Don’t let her knock it over like she did last year,” Senator Wallington said. “She might hurt—”

  I rolled my eyes. “I won’t, sir.”

  “All right. Merry Christmas Eve.”

  “Same to you.” I hung up and tossed my phone on the sofa, turning back toward Carrie just in time to hear her curse under her breath. “I heard that, Mrs. Coram.”

  She shot me a frustrated look, her blue eyes blazing at me. “I’m going to get this last one on if it kills me, I swear it.”

  “I can help you, you know.” I crossed the room slowly, trying not to upset my balance. “I am a bit taller than you.”

  “Nope. I get the red ones, not you.” She looked at me, her gaze dropping low and then slipping back up. “It’s our Christmas Eve tradition.”

  I grinned. “Yeah, it is. Then when we’re done, we drink and have hot, sweaty—”

  “Sh,” she hissed, her cheeks going red. “She’ll hear you.”

  “I think we’re safe,” I whispered, stopping directly in front of her. The colored lights on our tree twinkled merrily, and all that was left was the ornament in Carrie’s hand and the angel—which came last, of course. “She doesn’t really speak English.”

  “Still. It’s the principle.” She peeked at me, a sly grin on her face. “We don’t want to have to foot that therapy bill, trust me. We cost way too much.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Believe me, I know that.”

  Carrie had changed her major the second year of college. After seeing how much Dr. Montgome
ry had helped me, she decided she wanted to do that for other people like me. Wanted to help soldiers and others who suffered from PTSD. She worked on base now, and she always looked so damn happy.

  I liked to think I had something to do with that.

  And I liked that we worked in the same building, so we got to have lunch together every single fucking day. It was heaven, and I never failed to thank God for giving me my Ginger. She was my life. My partner. My world. My everything.

  Sometimes it all seemed too good to be true.

  She was a therapist, and I was a computer engineer, just like we’d both wanted. We still lived in Cali, thank fucking God. D.C. was way too cold, even if her parents still lived there half the year. They spent a lot of time out here, too.

  Everything in our life was perfect. Scarily, unrealistically perfect.

  Carrie waved her hand in front of my face, laughing when I jumped slightly. “Hello? Earth to Finn?”

  I caught her hand and kissed it, right above her wedding ring. I must’ve zoned out. I still did that sometimes. Got lost in thought. “Sorry, Ginger. I was lost in time.”

  “What were you thinking about?” she asked, a soft smile on those perfect lips of hers.

  “You.” I leaned forward and kissed her, loving the way she tasted, even after all these years. “Always you.”

  She closed her hands on my shoulders before pulling back and looking down for a quick second. “You two ready for the angel?”

  I looked down at the baby in my arms, smiling with so much fucking happiness I swear my heart would burst. Our red-haired daughter, Susan Marie Coram, fluttered her lashes open and looked up at me with the same blue eyes as her mother. She was only three months old, but already I knew she would own my heart as fully as her mother did.

  “We’ve been ready for years,” I said, making my voice higher as I held Susan’s hand. She cooed and closed her tiny little fingers around mine. “She’s so f-f—” I cut myself off. I was trying to cut back on the cursing. “—uh, fetchingly perfect.”

  Carrie laughed, picked up the angel, and came over to us, her eyes on me the whole time. “How could she not be? She came from us.” She trailed her fingers over the scar on my forehead, smiling. Then she laid the angel on Susan’s belly. “You’re up, princess.”

  I walked up to the tree, lifting Susan above my head. With my help—aka I did it myself—we put the angel on top of the tree. Backing up far enough to really see it, I eyed the tree skeptically. We’d gotten better over the years, because it actually looked evenly spread out. Perry Como crowed in the background, and lasagna cooked in the oven.

  It was tradition.

  No sooner did I nod in satisfaction than the timer dinged. I looked down at Susan. She was fast asleep. Good, it was time for me to have some one-on-one time with her mama. I smiled at Carrie, my heart so full it had to be close to bursting. “You get the lasagna out, and I’ll lay down Susan.”

  “Okay.” She walked by me, heading toward the kitchen, her hips swinging with each step she took. She wore a red dress and a pair of red heels. Fucking hot. “Hurry up.”

  “Oh, I will.”

  After watching her go, I climbed the stairs to Susan’s nursery. I laid her down to rest and snuck into the master bedroom to grab my present for Carrie out of my underwear drawer. I’d gotten her another sun pendant, but this one was white gold with a diamond in the middle of the pendant. She’d love it.

  I stopped two steps into the room. Lying in the middle of the bed was my wife, and she didn’t have anything on except a pair of red heels and a seductive smile. “Merry Christmas to me,” I said, shutting the door behind me.

  She opened her arms. “Come here, love.”

  I crossed the room, climbed onto the king bed, and lowered myself on top of her. She moaned and closed her arms around my neck, arching her back seductively. Trailing my fingers down her side, toward her hip, I kissed her. Her tongue tangled with mine, fighting for control before she gave it to me.

  I moaned and deepened the kiss, wedging myself between her legs. Breaking the kiss off, I whispered, “I love you, Ginger.”

  She smiled up at me, tracing her fingers over my faded scar. “I love you, too.”

  Unable to resist her when she looked so fucking hot, I kissed her again. I never could resist her, and never would be able to for as long as I lived...because she loved me—and needed me—just as much as I needed her.

  Imagine that.

  Read other books by Jen McLaughlin

  Dear Reader,

  Some of you might have recognized this already, but the epilogue in this book is almost exactly pulled out of Finn’s thoughts in Out of Time. When he and Carrie are decorating their first Christmas tree, he thinks to himself:

  If Captain Richards asked me where I wanted to be in ten years, I’d have an answer for him. I’d want to be right here, decorating a sloppy tree with Carrie. Maybe with a baby in my arms. That’s where I wanted to be. And I would be, damn it.

  Well, Finn got what he wanted, and I hope you all did, as well. I’ve had tons of fun writing Carrie and Finn’s story, and I hope to see you again soon. Even though Finn and Carrie got their happily ever after…Marie, Hernandez, and Riley didn’t.

  At least…not yet.

  If someone asked me where I saw myself in the next ten years, I’d have an answer too—just like Finn. I’ll be right here, writing stories for you. Thank you for letting me do that for you. I feel so very blessed.

  Till next time? The sun is finally shining.

  Love,

  Me

  Jen McLaughlin is a New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author. She writes steamy new adult books for the young and young at heart. Her first release, Out of Line, came out September 2013. She also writes bestselling contemporary romance under the pen name Diane Alberts. Since receiving her first contract offer under the pen name Diane Alberts, she has yet to stop writing. She is represented by Louise Fury at The Bent Agency.

  Though she lives in the mountains, she really wishes she was surrounded by a hot, sunny beach with crystal-clear water. Though she lives in the mountains, she really wishes she was surrounded by a hot, sunny beach with crystal-clear water. She lives in Northeast Pennsylvania with her four kids, a husband, a schnauzer mutt, a cat, and a Senegal parrot. In the rare moments when she’s not writing, she can usually be found hunched over one knitting project or another. Her goal is to write so many well-crafted romance books that even a non-romance reader will know her name.

  Copyright © 2014 by Jen McLaughlin

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form of by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without express permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes, if done so constitutes a copyright violation.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  ISBN: 978-0-9896684-4-6

  The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Beauty and the Beast, CVS, Downton Abbey, PBS, Target, Porsche, University of Southern California San Diego, Post-it, Aquafina, Volvo, Bruno Mars, Islands, and Harley-Davidson.

  Edited by: Kristin at Coat of Polish Edits

  Copy edited by: Hollie Westring

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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Introduction

  Other Books by Jen McLaughlin

  Dedication

  Chapter One - Finn

  Chapter Two - Carrie

  Chapter Three - Finn

  Chapter Four - Finn

  Chapter Five - Carrie

  Chapter Six - Finn

  Chapter Seven - Carrie

  Chapter Eight - Carrie

  Chapter Nine - Carrie

  Chapter Ten - Finn

  Chapter Eleven - Carrie

  Chapter Twelve - Carrie

  Chapter Thirteen - Carrie

  Chapter Fourteen - Carrie

  Chapter Fifteen - Carrie

  Chapter Sixteen - Carrie

  Chapter Seventeen - Carrie

  Chapter Eighteen - Finn

  Chapter Nineteen - Carrie

  Chapter Twenty - Finn

  Chapter Twenty-One - Carrie

  Chapter Twenty-Two - Finn

  Chapter Twenty-Three - Carrie

  Chapter Twenty-Four - Finn

  Chapter Twenty-Five - Carrie

  Chapter Twenty-Six - Finn

  Epilogue - Finn

  Note from the Author

  About the Author

  Copyright Notice

  About the Book Designer