by Anthology
Not anymore. The past year with Jamie had brought me more happiness than one girl deserved in a lifetime. I didn’t miss my party girl lifestyle. I still had fun—he’d never tame me entirely—but gone were the random hookups and crazy parties, and in their place was the safety and security of knowing I was truly loved for who I was.
In seeing how happy I was with Jamie, my mom had finally agreed to talk to someone. She was doing a little better, but it was baby steps. Sadly, Jamie’s dad’s Alzheimer’s had continued to get worse and he’d developed dementia as well. Denny now lived in a nursing home where someone was able to keep an eye on him twenty-four-seven.
As I came around the last curve before I’d pass the spot of our first meeting, I noticed a police car parked on the side of the road ahead. I glanced down to my speedometer to make sure I wasn’t speeding. The last thing I needed was another ticket in the exact same spot.
I slowed the car down as I approached and the driver’s side door opened. My stomach did a weird flip when I saw Jamie get out of the car. What was he doing here? Hitting my brakes, I pulled my car over onto the dirt shoulder and came to a stop behind him. I turned the car off and got out with a big smile on my face.
“Fancy seeing you here,” I said with a grin.
Jamie walked toward me, looking as sexy as ever in his black police uniform. He was smiling but didn’t say a word. Although the look in his eyes told me something was going on. His expression was one of adoration and joy, but I sensed an underlying nervousness.
Why?
As he came to stand in front of me, I asked, “What’s going on?” I searched his face for answers.
Jamie took a deep breath, and I swear I saw a glimmer of moisture in the corner of his eyes. He took my face in his hands and tenderly cupped my cheeks, brushing my skin with his thumbs. “Jackie, you know how much I love you.”
I nodded, wondering where this was going.
“A year ago we met in this exact spot. This is where my life really began. This is where I found my purpose. I had a million ideas of how I wanted to do this and what would make it special. I wanted you to have a story you could tell our children someday, but my mind kept coming back to where it all started.”
All the breath pushed out of my lungs as I realized where he was going with this.
“I never told you this, but the moment I met you I knew you were something special.” Sincerity shone in his expression and rang through in his tone. “I didn’t dare to think you could ever truly be mine, but you were under my skin in seconds. As I came to realize what a strong, independent, and sensual woman you are, I knew I had to make you mine. Our first meeting was rocky…started out rough. That’s exactly why I had to do this here. When I ask you my next question I want you to remember that even though there will be times that aren’t easy, if we’re open and honest with each other, we can get through anything.”
Suddenly, Jamie dropped down on one knee and reached into his pocket. I gasped and put my hand to my mouth.
“Will you bring even more joy to my life by being my wife?” He opened a black jewelry case, his hands shaking slightly, his expression hopeful. Nestled inside was an oval-shaped diamond surrounded by smaller diamonds. It sparkled, the sunlight glittering and reflecting off its multi-faceted surface.
I was overcome and unable to speak for a moment as all my emotions seemed to lodge in my throat. But as I gazed down at his face, I knew that his was the face I wanted to look at forever. I wanted to see the color wash out of it during the long north eastern winters. I wanted to see his eyes tear up as he gazed down upon a child of ours for the first time. I wanted to see the lines and creases that would be etched into his skin decades from now. My heart swelled and felt too big for my chest because I wanted everything with this man.
Finally, as a single tear slid down my cheek, I was able to pull it together. “Yes, yes!” I cried, pulling on his hand so he would stand up.
He let out a relieved breath and rose and I wrapped my arms around his waist in a fierce hug, nestling my face in his neck and giving him one chaste kiss after another. I pulled back, laughing and crying at the same time. Jamie’s grin was so wide it could have split his face in two. He was laughing as he took the ring from the box. I held out my left hand for him, and he slid the ring on. It looked even more beautiful on my hand because he was the one who had picked it and placed it there.
“I love you so much!” I wrapped my arms around his neck, and Jamie lifted me by the waist and swung me around.
“I was afraid you were going to say no when you took so long.” He set me down, but I didn’t remove my arms from around him.
“Not on your life, mister. You’re stuck with me now.”
Jamie laughed then leaned in and placed a soft kiss on my lips, looking deep into my eyes, into my soul. “There’s no place I’d rather be.”
That’s right, Officer.
I sighed and leaned into his chest. Standing there listening to his heartbeat, I couldn’t have been more thankful that this man had come into my life and helped me learn how to trust enough to let my own heart beat for someone else again.
The End
Ready for the next erotic tale set in Bar Harbor? Check out Chloe and Max’s story in, Indiscretion, and find out readers are calling it, “Hot. Emotional. Addictive.”
F*ck and chuck. Pump and dump. Hit it and quit it. One night stand. Didn’t matter how I branded it—that’s all she had wanted it to be. That much was clear when she left me with my pants down and my dick still out.
What she hadn’t counted on was fate intervening and our worlds colliding—again.
The day I showed back up in the life of Chloe Griffins, I knew I had to have her again. My body was hungry for another taste. Like an addict, I’d been craving another hit for months, and there she was—flesh and bone, tits and ass.
The fact that she worked for the competition should’ve been reason enough for me to leave her alone. I had a job to do that summer and f*cking Chloe wasn’t part of it. But I was like a man possessed.
I’d do whatever it took to have her again.
Available NOW
An Indiscretion Excerpt…
Ninety minutes, one drink, and two shots later, I stood in front of the gilded bathroom mirror, mulling over my earlier conversation with Jackie.
It was hard to admit she was right, but I knew it wasn’t normal for a twenty-eight-year-old single female to put as much effort into avoiding a relationship as most others put into finding one. Even so, I wasn’t interested in opening up my heart to be hurt again. My father, my mother, and my ex—all gone. My sister would be added to that list soon. All for different reasons, but gone just the same.
I had no illusions of a happily-ever-after for myself, but there was no denying that a little sexual satisfaction would be a welcome addition to my life. I’d never considered casual sex before, but I hadn’t thought I’d be alone at this age either.
I smoothed the material down on the front of my dress. Focus, Chloe. No more thoughts about sex.
But my mind kept wandering.
Maybe if the sex came with no strings attached…and with someone who looked like that guy I’d noticed earlier in the bar. Spending a night between the sheets with a guy like that certainly wouldn’t be a hardship.
Shit, I’d lasted all of five seconds not thinking about sex. I had the mind of a thirteen-year-old boy tonight. Had to be the booze talking—I sounded nothing like myself.
Whatever. It wasn’t like I had to make a decision on the spot. For tonight, I’d have fun at my bestie’s bachelorette party and see how I felt in the morning—after the effects of the alcohol wore off.
My arms were heavy as I fished a small comb out of my purse and ran it through my long blonde strands. Some hairspray would be good, but there was no sign of the usual assortment of beauty products on the expansive granite counter. Too bad, especially since there hadn’t been enough room to fit any in the microscopic cocktail bag I was c
arrying.
I returned the comb to my purse and straightened the pale yellow dress Jackie had talked me into wearing. Apparently hems that reached only mid-thigh were for streetwalkers and the trendy alike. As satisfied as I was going to get, I headed toward the bathroom door to re-join the girls. My legs felt leaden, like I’d spent hours in a hot tub, as my stilettos clicked on the marble floor.
With my hand on the door, I glanced back to make sure I hadn’t left anything on the counter when I noticed…urinals?
What. The. Hell.
Shit. Say it isn’t so. No, no. I did not go into the men’s room. No freaking way. But with one more panicked glance, I realized I most definitely did. Definitely blaming this one on the booze. Either that or the artsy signage outside the door that left anyone guessing as to whether the figure resembled a man or a woman.
Turning quickly to make my escape, I whirled around and took a step forward, only to run straight into the opening bathroom door. Pain exploded in my nose and tears immediately pricked my eyes. Someone was entering the bathroom and pushing in the door.
Stunned, I took a step backward and shook my head. Warm hands settled on my upper arms and steadied me. I looked up and was speechless. The hands belonged to the man with the memorable blue eyes I’d spotted earlier. Of course, why go for slight mortification when you could really out-do yourself?
Sex on legs—that was my only coherent thought at that moment. And I was pretty sure from the grin on his face and the seduction in his eyes that I’d made his hit list.
About Elisabeth Grace…
Elisabeth Grace has a soft spot for happily-ever-afters, and a hot spot for alpha males. She lives outside of Toronto in Canada with her husband, two small children and a killer cat. If she’s not creating her next book boyfriend on her laptop, you can probably find her binging on reality TV, eating chocolate, or stalking David Gandy online. Don’t know who David is? Google him…you can thank me later!
You can catch up with El and her various shenanigans here on her website at http://Elisabeth-Grace.com or on social media in the following places:
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The Billionaire You Know
Lauren Hawkeye
LIZ
Every muscle in my body hurt, and not in a good way.
Okay, it was sort of in a good way. It had been fun getting sore, at least. And no, not that kind of fun. I wished. It had been quite a few months since I’d experienced anything even remotely resembling that kind of fun, much as it pained me to admit it.
So this had been the next best way to use muscles I hadn’t even know I’d had. Skiing all day in the mountains with my best friend, soon to be followed by a steaming hot shower and some greasy pub food down in the lobby bar, all chased with an icy local beer.
It was my idea of heaven. Jake? Well, it had been his nirvana too, at least it had once upon a time. Since he’d become an honest-to-goodness billionaire, he spent most of his time at swanky parties or doing the horizontal mambo with women who resembled stick insects. Our birthdays fell in the same early December week, and we’d celebrated them together ever since we’d met.
Two years ago, he’d hired my favorite band, Inkslinger, to do a private show. And, oh yeah, that band happened to be one of the hottest ones in the world at the time.
Last year, he’d thrown a ridiculously posh blowout at a Las Vegas nightclub. I only found out after that he owned said club.
This year, he’d told me he was going to fly us both to his private island—that’s right, my old friend Jake now owned an entire freaking island—for a sun drenched long weekend. I know, I know—sounds like paradise, right?
Except… well, I’d started to get a little weirded out by how much money Jake spent on me. He didn’t find it extravagant, I know, and truthfully, it was probably pocket change for him, with his super successful dot com empire. But…
It threw me off balance, even though I knew it really made him happy to do it. How would I ever pay him back for anything he’d given me? It would have been different if we were dating, maybe… but that ship had sailed long ago.
Still, no one knew me better than Jake. And he’d sensed how uncomfortable I was with yet another extravagant present from him, so he’d changed our plans.
His new idea? We were going to relive one of the best trips we’d ever taken together, back when we were in college—a weekend skiing in the crisp Rocky Mountain powder. Heaven on earth.
At least, it would be, if I could move any of my limbs.
“Get up, lazy ass.” I twitched a half-hearted middle finger in the general direction of the other bed, where Jake had flopped after his post-hills shower. Sneaking a glance that way, I saw that he was already dressed in denim and bulky wool, though the jeans were probably designer and the sweater likely cashmere. His hair was damp and curling against his forehead, and just as they always had, my fingers itched to brush it back.
I’d leave that to the ski bunnies who would inevitably pounce on him the second we went downstairs to the pub. Nothing about the way he was dressed right now screamed billionaire, but there had always been something about him that drew women like bees to honey.
I’d rolled my eyes when he’d insisted on recreating our trip down to the last detail—which included sharing a room. But now, with a hint of his expensive cologne tickling the insides of my nose, a big problem reared its ugly head.
I didn’t mind splitting quarters with Jake—it was nothing he hadn’t seen before. But no way in hell was I cool with sharing my bedhead and frankly quite scary morning breath with one of the parade of perfect princesses who hopped in and were then booted back out of my buddy’s bed.
Okay, maybe he wasn’t that bad. But a man who looked like him, who had as much money as he did, and who was actually a nice guy to boot? It meant that he was rarely without an eager bedmate.
And of course, being a guy, how was he to say no?
I snorted out loud at the thought and winced when the tiny movement pulled something else. Man, I was only twenty-five, but after a day of hard skiing, my body was letting me know that it was not eighteen anymore.
Slowly, slowly I edged my way up onto my elbows, decided it was too much effort for the moment, and flopped down again.
I had a generic hotel pillow thrown at my head for the trouble.
“Hey!” I sat up, winced again, and scowled at my so-called best friend. He grinned back, his wet, salted caramel hair falling into his eyes again. The same look on me would be ridiculous. On him, it made even my friend-zone girly parts heat up.
“Up.” God, I could hate him. I really could. Even if he’d seen and lived through my bedhead and morning breath. “Up, up. Ass in gear, Lizzie. I’m hungry”
“Don’t call me Lizzie.” I don’t know why I’d bothered—I hated the nickname, but over the years we’d known each other, he’d rarely called me anything else.
I debated ignoring him and catching a quick nap, but I was hungry, too, so I pulled myself up the rest of the way. Swung my legs— okay, okay, feebly flopped them—over the side of the bed.
As I struggled to plant the feet still clad in big, thick ski socks solidly on the floor, I saw Jake check his watch.
Then check it again as I gripped the nightstand and forced my aching legs to stand.
And again when I took a wobbly couple of steps towards the bathroom.
“Got a hot date?” I was only half joking as I wondered if he’d left me any dry towels. I raised my brow when I saw the piles of fluffy white terrycloth that were stacked on the counter—luxurious linens that were not standard issue at this cheap motel.
My lips twitched, knowing that Jake must have greased some palms to get some extra luxuries for the room. You could take the billionaire out of his mansion, and all that.
I frowned when I heard a knock at the door. Now what did he have planned? Whatev
er it was, it could wait—I kept moving towards the now siren call of the shower.
I scowled when I realized that dear darling Jake had stayed exactly where he was, butt planted on the bed, arms crossed behind his head.
Eyes closed.
“Jerkwad.” A spark of irritation flared in my gut as I changed direction and hobbled over the scratchy carpeting to get the door. Normally I wouldn’t have cared—technically, I was closer to the damn thing, anyways—but damn it, I was in pain.
My mood didn’t improve when I opened the heavy slab of metal and found a tall, toned and tanned, bodacious blonde in black on the other side.
I raised my eyebrows in question. Normally I would have at least said hi, or told her that Jake wasn’t available until later, but I was afraid that talking might hurt yet another muscle.
“I’m the massage therapist?” I didn’t think that was a question, myself, but it didn’t really matter. She was obviously in the wrong place, or was trying to beat the other bunnies to Jake, but whatever. I’d send her on her way and finally get my shower.
I shook my head, my wind snarled black ponytail whipping me in the face as I did. “Sorry, we didn’t order—”
“Elizabeth Michaels?”
I frowned in confusion; that was my name.
“Sorry, but there’s been a mistake. That’s me, all right, but I didn’t order a massage.”
Little Miss Perkypants just kept on smiling. “No, you didn’t.” She consulted a clipboard that she held tight in a tanned hand. “It was ordered by a Mr. Kincaid?”
“Huh?” I turned to look at Jake, who’d moved into a sitting position and was now clutching a paperback book.
“Happy birthday, Lizzie.” He grinned, the smile that I loved most on him, the one that showed he was genuinely happy about something.
