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Bella Luna

Page 26

by Sharon Struth


  Bella wandered into the room and watched him, an expectant glimmer in her bloodshot eyes. “I suppose you want a treat?”

  She wagged her tail and stared him down, a shrewd negotiator for someone who couldn’t speak. He dug out a treat and waited until she took it. “Let’s see if there’s any news about your mom in the paper.”

  Bella chomped away, clearly not interested.

  Leo flipped the paper, until he spotted a short piece with the heading “Senator to Face Grand Jury.” He carefully read each word, certain they’d indict John Richardson on charges of making illegal campaign contributions and fraud for using Rose’s money without her knowledge.

  Six months of patience. Not an easy task, but he respected the boundary she’d established.

  Love for her possessed him. Their phone calls made him even more eager. Each night since she’d left, he went to sleep remembering the short life they’d shared up at the lake. He’d dedicated the book to Bella, for bringing them together and even sent Rose a copy before the release date. He smiled remembering the delight in her laughter when she’d called to thank him.

  Sometimes they’d talk about her journey facing the murky matters of her life. Doing it alone mattered a great deal to her, a fact he understood more and more as the days passed and he read the papers about her journey.

  Still, there were moments of doubt. At those times, he’d call Bella over. A sign Rose wasn’t gone for good.

  He folded the newspaper in half and got up to shower. He had a late morning interview with the New Yorker, lunch with Seth, and then his book signing at the Barnes & Noble in mid-town.

  On his way past the counter with his coffee cup in hand, he stopped to flip through the pile of mail. At the bottom, he spotted a copy of Sophisticate magazine.

  A slinky model on the cover wore a trench coat and carried a briefcase. Near her shoulder, an article teaser shouted, “New Rules To A Successful Career.” He sipped his coffee and nearly spit it out after reading another feature: “31 Sex Tips: How to go from zero to ninety in the bedroom.” He chuckled, not sure he could keep up with ninety, but somewhere around sixty or seventy sounded good.

  He was about to walk away, but on the bottom a third article teaser caught his attention. “Dr. Rose shares how forty questions, a basset hound, and a blackout brought her love.”

  She’d mentioned a surprise during their last call but refused to say more. His heart lifted as he opened the magazine. He devoured each word, laughing at her descriptions of their evening, recalling some of the same emotions in himself that night.

  When he finished, the urge to hold her seized him. He grabbed his cell phone from the counter, ready to dial her number and ask if she was ready. He stopped. Nope. She’d asked for him to wait for her return, so why ruin it now?

  He continued to the shower, but hoped to God she didn’t make him wait too much longer.

  * * * *

  “Thank you.” Leo smiled at the young man with wire-framed glasses, an aspiring writer himself. “Good luck with your novel. Keep at it. No matter what.”

  Leo glanced out into the crowd for a split second at the long line, kept orderly by store staff. He’d signed books for the past two hours. His cheeks hurt from smiling and hand ached from writing. But in truth, he’d want it no other way.

  He continued to greet his readers. As he finished with one customer, he turned away to take a sip of his water. A quick glance at the line showed it finally had an end. He reached for a book from the store staff who’d been assigned to help him, but instead the tall young lady, whose nametag read “Hadley,” handed him a small piece of paper.

  “It’s important,” she said.

  He unfolded the note, expecting perhaps something from Seth. Although he could’ve texted or left a voice message.

  Look up.

  He slowly lifted his head, his heart pounding from months and months of saved up anticipation. Sure enough, Rose stood at the end of the line, a copy of his book clutched to her chest. A questioning smile rested on her lips, causing his heart to leap a mile into the sky. No longer dressed in the silly teen-wear, she wore a classy wraparound red dress clinging to her curves. The necklace he’d given her hung around her neck, the diamond charm sparkling and enhancing her beautiful blue eyes. Her hair had grown and was a light wheat color, still with layers but styled more professionally.

  He dropped the note on the table and stood, half wondering if he’d totally lost it and she was a mirage.

  She stepped from her place in line and her smile grew. “I promised I’d find you.”

  He moved toward her. “Is this your surprise?”

  “It is. A surprise, just like the first time we met.” She tipped her head to the line. “Not a good idea?”

  “Are you kidding? It’s great!” He took her hands in his. “God, I can’t believe it’s you.”

  “Did you get the magazine? I asked them to send it to both your New York and Connecticut addresses.”

  “Yes. At my place in the city. I just got it today.”

  He placed her arms around his waist and cupped her cheeks. Without answering, he kissed her. Softly at first, then more deeply, long and filled with all the passionate he possessed inside his heart for this woman.

  He leaned back and stared into her eyes. “God, I’ve missed you.”

  “Me too.”

  “Come sit with me up front until I’m through.”

  He guided her around the table holding her hand. A store helper nearby offered to get a chair.

  He kissed Rose again and quietly said, “I loved your article. Everything you wrote about those questions hit me the same way, too. Every single day I’ve thought about you. So did Bella.”

  “I did the same. How is my girl? I’ve missed her so much.”

  “She’s good. Back at the apartment right now. We’ll go there when I’m through.”

  “Sounds perfect.” She touched his cheek with her hand, watching him through gleaming eyes. “One quick question. I’m here to collect on your note.”

  “My note?”

  “The one that came with the beautiful necklace. You told me on the phone that you’d only tell me in person what it means…all the promise of a full moon.”

  Leo laughed. “Had you on the edge of your seat, did I? Good. That was my insurance to get you here.” He took her hand and squeezed. “It’s something my dad used to say all the time. He’d say, ‘Life waxes and wanes, but the promise of a full moon sheds light on everything that is possible.’”

  Her face softened. “It’s perfect. And thank you. For the necklace, for letting me deal with unfinished business, and for taking care of Bella. Now I’m ready for any possibility.”

  Leo signed the remaining books while Rose waited. Every so often he’d glance her way and catch her watching him. He suddenly found himself thinking about a clichéd phrase, something about letting things go, because if they are meant to be yours they’ll return.

  The last customer left. Leo thanked the store and took off with Rose. They walked hand in hand down Fifth Avenue, Leo still stunned at how his day changed. About to flag a cab, he instead drew her away from the center of the sidewalk and against the side of a nearby brick building.

  He cornered her there and kissed her the way he’d wanted to a thousand times in his mind. First a delicate tasting of her tender lips, then he fully covered her mouth, softly probing while breathing in her perfumed scent as his fingers threaded the silky strands of her hair. She slipped her hands inside his jacket, drawing him closer and sighing against his mouth. When he pulled away, he saw all the lust in her gaze he’d seen during the short time they spent as lovers.

  He tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “Another article in Sophisticate caught my interest.”

  “New rules to a successful career?”

  “Nope. The one about going from zero to ninety in the bedroom. Care to check its accuracy?”

  “A
re you kidding?” A cool November breeze blew his blazer jacket flap open so she tucked herself against his chest and he held her tight. Looking up, she smiled. “What are we waiting for?”

  Epilogue

  “Are you ready?” Harry walked out of the back of the tasting room at Litchfield Hills Vineyard.

  Rose went to him and straightened the knot of his tie. “I’ve never been more ready. Aren’t you the handsome devil in that tux?”

  Harry waved his hand and smiled. “You, my dear, are going to steal the show.”

  The gown she’d fallen in love had a simple elegance. The heart-shaped bodice fit firmly around her torso then flared at the waist, falling to her feet. Needlepoint French lace with a floral print covered her shoulders, arms, serving as an overlay to the dress. A satin bow belted her waist.

  Harry cracked open the door and peeked outside. “Should I tell them to start the music?”

  She nodded. Harry waved, presumably to Trent Jamieson, who’d be playing his guitar as she walked down the aisle.

  Harry offered his the crook of his arm. “Your future husband has a little surprise for you.”

  “A surprise? Twice I’ve surprised him. I suppose I’m due.”

  As they carefully walked a candlelit path from the tasting room to the grassy lawn looking out to the lake, Rose took in the setting. Streaks of amber, gold, and gray pastel filled the dusk sky. Over the lake, a full moon rose on the horizon. A perfect late spring evening.

  She scanned the seated guests, seventy-five of their close friends and family. New friends and old. Sophie and her husband, Duncan. Meg and Charlie sat with Bernadette, whose husband, Dave, stood at the end of an aisle formed by folding chairs to officiate. His smile warmed and welcomed, putting Rose at ease. Not far from Dave, Trent strummed his guitar. Veronica stood at his side, waiting to sing as part of their service.

  Then there were the people who still stood by her side while her name got dragged through the papers, like Mia, Joanne, and two friends from North Carolina.

  She glanced up front again, searching for Leo. Instead she saw Seth, the best man, and Leo’s sister, Mallory, the only two people standing up for them. In Mallory, Rose found a sisterhood. Having her as matron of honor sealed their affection for each other.

  She didn’t see Leo right away, but when she glanced to the grass she found him kneeling, his back to her. He stood after a few seconds and turned. His gaze filled her with the same love it did each time he looked her way.

  He smiled, a huge grin, and motioned with his head for her to look down.

  On the ground, between Leo and Seth, sat Bella with a large satin bow tied around her neck. A black pillow rested on Bella’s back, secured by a second white satin bow. Both wedding rings were tied neatly in the pillow center.

  Rose’s heart melted. The one time she had suggested Bella come to the service, Leo had replied, “A wedding is no place for a dog,” so she’d let it go.

  She hugged Harry, and met Leo in the center. Their hands joined. “I thought you said a wedding was no place for a dog.”

  Leo winked and gazed at Rose, a sparkle in his eyes. “Did you think I’d leave Bella out?”

  “But I’d thought Seth was carrying the rings.”

  “So did I,” Seth said from the sidelines, and everybody laughed.

  Dave started the service, quickly overrun by Seth’s panicked voice. “No, Bella. Stay. Stay!”

  The dog walked the center of the aisle, not even a hint that she’d heard Seth’s demands. She waddled over to Dave at her own slow pace and plunked at his feet, facing Leo and Rose. The moment drew more laughter.

  Joy reached deep inside Rose, her heart filled with love for Leo and excitement for their future in Northbridge.

  She touched Leo’s cheek. “You know, I think you fell in love with Bella before me.”

  “It’s debatable. I think she helped us along though.”

  Dave cleared his throat. “You two have a lifetime to discuss this. I plan to make this ceremony a little different than the last one the three of us participated in.”

  Snickers erupted from the select few who’d been privy to the house-cleansing ritual. Dave then performed a beautiful ceremony, including a reading of vows they’d each written themselves. Leo’s talked about his own growth during the six months he waited for her and Rose cried. He’d learned love was limitless, even when we someday lose the people we care about. Rose’s talked about the true meaning of home and how she’d found one with Leo.

  When they finished, Dave announced, “You may now kiss.”

  Leo brushed her lips then slipped a hand around her back, tipped her and kissed her more deeply. Bella howled.

  They laughed along with the guests. Rose couldn’t remember a time in her life when she’d ever felt more at peace or more loved. She went to kiss Leo again, but this time Bella squeezed between them. Neither one complained. Instead of kissing, they squatted down to pet the dog who’d been smart enough to understand how they all belonged together.

  ~The End~

  Please enjoy another glimpse into the world of Blue Moon Lake:

  SHARE THE MOON

  Sometimes trust is the toughest lesson to learn.

  Sophie Shaw is days away from signing a contract that will fulfill her dream of owning a vineyard. For her, it’s a chance to restart her life and put past tragedies to rest. But Duncan Jamieson’s counter offer blows hers out to sea.

  Duncan still finds Sophie as appealing as he had during boyhood vacations to the lake. Older and wiser now, he has his own reasons for wanting the land. His offer, however, hinges on a zoning change approval.

  Bribery rumors threaten the deal and make Sophie wary of Duncan, yet she cannot deny his appeal. When her journalistic research uncovers a Jamieson family secret, trust becomes the hardest lesson for them both.

  A Lyrical e-book on sale now.

  Learn more about Sharon at

  http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/author.aspx/31604

  Chapter 1

  New Moon: When the moon, positioned between the earth and sun,

  nearly disappears, leaving only darkness.

  November

  The sabotaged kayaks beckoned. Sophie Shaw trod a thin layer of ice pellets on the lawn as she headed to the lake’s edge, where eight boats waited to be returned to the storage rack. The fickle New England weather had offered sleet-dropping clouds an hour earlier. Now, a wink from the sun reflected against Blue Moon Lake.

  She dragged the first boat up a small incline, annoyed some bored teenagers had considered destruction of property entertainment. Growing up she and her friends had respected the local businesses.

  A UPS truck screeched to a stop in front of a row of shops on Main Street. The driver hopped out and ran into Annabelle’s Antiques with a box tucked under his arm. Sophie glanced both ways along the road for signs of Matt, whose new driver’s license and clunker car played to every mother’s fears. Fifteen minutes earlier, she’d texted him for help with the boat mess. He’d replied “k.”

  Sophie’s flats glided along the slick lawn. She gripped the cord of a bright orange sea kayak and, using two hands, struggled backward up the slope. Her foot skidded. The heel of her shoe wobbled for security but instead, her toes lifted off the ground and flashed toward the clear sky. The burning skid of the cord ripped across her palms just as her other foot lifted and launched her airborne. Thud!

  Air whooshed from her lungs. Pain coursed through her shoulder blades, neck, and spine. The ground’s chilly dampness seeped into her cotton khaki pants, raising goose bumps on her skin. Seconds passed without breath before she managed to swallow a gulp.

  Lying flat on her back, she stared at the cornflower blue sky and spotted a chalky slice of the moon. The night Henry died, a similar crescent had hung from the heavens, barely visible nestled among the glittering stars. She prepared for the scrape that threatened to tear the gouge of her scarred heart. Seven years. S
even painful years. She closed her eyes and after a few seconds, the weight of sadness lifted off her chest.

  Tears gathered along her lower lashes. She pushed a strand of unruly long hair from her face. Footsteps crunched on the ice pellets and headed her way.

  “Matthew Shaw…” Fury pooled in her jaw as she resisted the urge to yell at her son. “You’d better have a good excuse for taking so long.”

  A man with cinnamon hair, short on the sides with gentle waves on top, knelt at her side. She studied the strong outline of his cheeks and the slight bump on the bridge of his angular nose that gave him a rugged touch, but he wasn’t familiar.

  “Are you okay?” He searched her face.

  The stranger hovered above. Tall treetops, clinging to the last of their earth-toned foliage, served as a backdrop to her view. A vertical crease separated his sandy brows. She couldn’t pry herself from his vivid blue eyes, in part stunned from the fall, but also by her first responder.

  For several long seconds she stared, and then mumbled, “I think so. Just a little shocked.”

  A whiff of his musk cologne revived her with the subtle charm of a southern preacher casting his congregation under his spell.

  He frowned. “Does it hurt to move anything?”

  “Sometimes it did before I fell.”

  The stranger’s face softened and his lips curved upward. “A sense of humor, huh? That’s a good sign.”

  “I suppose.” His deep voice relaxed her like a cup of chamomile tea, the balanced and certain tone of his words easing her wounded spirit. Maybe this guy was a sign her rotten luck might change. “So, where’s your white horse?”

 

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