Angie pulled Faith into her arms. "I'm so sorry, sweetie. Maybe it's just a misunderstanding?"
Faith shrugged. "Maybe. But that doesn't resolve my feelings. What does that say about me as a wife?"
Seeing my sister so sad had a sobering effect. I crawled over to her and wrapped my arms around her from behind. "It says you're a woman with real feelings, and one who's tolerated more than she should in a relationship. You've sacrificed your own needs and supported him without question. We've all seen how it is. He takes you for granted."
I didn’t add that I’d learned how that level of self-sacrifice was not a healthy one. Look what it had done to Jax.
"I thought I was doing the right thing in supporting his dreams since that's what provides for us as a family. Now I'm questioning everything."
"Maybe you can try talking to him. Let him know how you feel. See what he says. Isn't that what you'd tell one of us?" Maggie was the voice of reason in our group.
"I tried. He was mad at me for questioning him. He told me, and I quote, "I only had everything I did because of him, and he didn't need me to question him and to mind my own fucking business."
There was a collective gasp.
"Just wait 'til I get my hands on his scrawny little neck," Angie growled. "You're too good for him, Faith."
"Have you told Daddy?" I asked.
Faith looked at me with horror. "No! I can't do that. He'll freak out. Marriage is a commitment. I have to find a way to fix this."
"Faith—"
My computer chimed. Good. That must be Laurel. She could talk some sense into our oldest sister. I accepted the call and Laurel's face appeared.
Jax
I finished brushing my teeth and rinsed my mouth. I glanced at Grace's reflection in the mirror. She was turning down the sheets on the bed.
"So, did you tell them?"
I leaned against the doorframe, watching her movements. I sometimes still had a hard time believing she was mine.
She fluffed a pillow and straightened. She put her hands on her hips and blew a strand of hair out of her face. "No. It got a little crazy tonight, and not in a good way. It didn't seem like the right time."
She sounded frustrated and a little upset. Concerned, I stepped into the room. "What's wrong?"
Her pretty mouth twisted into a frown. "Faith thinks Adam is cheating on her."
That son of a bitch! I hadn't liked him from the beginning. "What can I do?"
She padded across the room and leaned against me. I wrapped my arms around her, rocking her gently in my embrace.
"This is good," she mumbled against my chest.
"She deserves better than that jackass."
"She does." Her hands slid upward to link behind my neck. "It was hard knowing her marriage is falling apart while we're just starting."
I pulled her left hand down and kissed the ring set that sparkled on her finger. I was happy to see them back in place. Earlier, she’d decided to wear them on a necklace while she decided if and how she should break the news to her sisters and friends. "You're sure you don't have any regrets?"
She beamed. "None. I couldn't be happier. I didn't want to wait for some big ceremony."
"How dead is your dad going to kill me?"
Her lips pursed and twisted. "How good are you at building fallout shelters?"
I closed my eyes and groaned. "That dead, huh? Good thing my life insurance policy has been updated."
She laughed.
"Glad you think my imminent demise is so funny. Why did I let you talk me into eloping again?"
"As I recall, I didn't have to twist your arm very hard."
Eloping was never part of my plan. I still didn’t love the idea of wedding and all of the fuss. But I loved Grace and I knew I wanted to marry Grace, so I was determined she could have whatever kind of ceremony she wanted. Once I proposed anyway. I wanted it to be special.
When a friend called me out of the blue a couple of weeks ago, it gave me an idea. Alex and I had met on more than one occasion at some conferences and had hit it off. He was easy going and loyal, like Noah. Alex had recently been asked to collaborate on a restoration of an old theater near Savannah. He specialized more in houses, but he remembered I worked with commercial buildings and had a few questions. I suggested that I'd rather see it in person before offering further advice. I mentioned that I thought my girlfriend would love to see Savannah anyway, and in my mind, I started thinking of a romantic gesture for my proposal.
Hearing that, Alex decided to bring his wife, Kayla along as well. His parents didn’t live too far away in Charleston, so they could drop their children off and have a grown-up weekend. It worked out perfectly. Grace and Kayla immediately got along like old friends, and I had a feeling it wouldn't be the last trip in which we got together.
One evening before dinner out with Alex and Kayla, Grace came out of the bathroom, a vision in a red dress that made my cock swell. The smile she offered made my heart swell even more. I loved her more than I imagined was possible. As soon as I saw her, the words, "Will you marry me?" just blurted from my mouth.
So much for my romantic plan of a carriage ride around the old city that had overcome and survived hardship after hardship, but still remained beautiful—like Grace and me.
Grace was speechless. I don't think she believed me until I walked over to my suitcase and pulled out a box. This time, I dropped to one knee and handled my proposal a little more gracefully, but no more sincere than the first time. We might have been a little late to dinner after her enthusiastic acceptance.
Kayla noticed Grace's ring right away. It was she who mentioned rather slyly that Georgia didn't have a residency requirement nor a waiting period for marriage. I laughed, but Grace looked at me with a raised eyebrow.
"It’s the only way we could live together," she reminded me. I’d asked her to move in with me about a month after I told her all of my secrets. But despite the fact that we spent almost all of our nights together, she didn’t want her father’s disapproval and disappointment to ruin the decision to live together. For that matter, it made me a little nervous, too. Everett treated me like a son, and I’m sure he knew just how close Grace and I were, but Grace didn’t want to make things awkward for any of us.
“Besides,” she said, “I plan weddings and parties all the time. I just want to be married to you.”
As she said, it hadn’t taken much convincing. But now I was worried about her family’s reaction.
"Let's wait until the family dinner on Sunday to tell them. He's less likely to kill me in front of my mother since she'll coming this time."
Grace reached up to kiss me. "Don't worry. I’m not sure what’s going to happen with Faith and Adam, or if he’ll even be there. But regardless, there'll be other news."
"Oh, what's that?" I couldn’t imagine what would be more dramatic than our news.
"Laurel's coming home."
Thank you for reading Against the Rules! I hope you enjoyed Grace and Jax’s story. Ready for another Hart sister? Here’s a sneak preview to Laurel's story in AGAINST THE SCRIPT, coming later in 2018!
Laurel
Damn it! Why did I wear these shoes today? I tried to walk faster, but the delicate straps wrapped around my ankle were clearly only for style, not support.
Note to self: this isn't California anymore, toots. Instead of blending in, you stand out like a whore in church!
Of course, if I showed up at my father’s church, that was bound to be the opinion anyway. It was one of the reasons why I left a little over two years ago.
Growing up, I had wanted to stand out. I was tired of being in the shadows of my family. I loved them, but I felt like I could never be seen as myself, whoever that was.
Oh, your dad’s the pastor, right? He has such a gift with words.
Are you as good with animals as your mom is?
Wow! I loved Faith’s appetizer she brought to the last church supper. Do you think you could get me the recipe?
Grace throws the most amazing parties! Must be great when it’s your birthday, right?
Angela is just so kind and good with kids. Do you know she’s the only person who could get my son to stop crying when he needed stitches?
So, what is it you do?
Things have a funny way of working out. Now I wasn’t only not in the shadows, I was out in the full sun—complete exposure—and it had only gotten me burned.
A chameleon—that’s what I wanted to be. Needed to be, at least for a while. So how in the world did wearing a pale green dress with a gold belt and the three-inch strappy gold heels blend in? They didn’t. At least, not the three-inch above the knee length, nor the layers of jewelry that covered up my skin that was left exposed by the low neckline of the dress. It was quite modest by southern California standards. And I probably could have gotten away with it in my hometown of Passion, Virginia if it was a weekday during working hours, or better, an evening hitting the new fancy restaurants that had been established since I left.
But no. I was walking down a sidewalk on an early Saturday afternoon where the dress for the day was mostly jeans and other casual wear. Because despite its name, this was largely a hardworking, former industrial town, not a city that ran with a need-to-be-seen attitude.
Back to the shoes. When I woke up in my hotel this morning, nervousness overcame rationality. The impulsiveness that landed me in this situation reared its head. So, it was an act of desperation, admittedly with some vanity mixed in, that prompted me to select this outfit. Simply put, I knew I looked good in it. It made me feel better. Confident.
It was shallow, I knew. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and I needed all the confidence I could muster. Besides, they were the perfect match to the pale green dress with the gold belt. I truly loved these shoes, but they were not conducive to much walking, much less a near jog, down a sidewalk.
A few people walked along the same sidewalk as me, mostly minding their own business, but there were a few whose eyes widened—in appreciation or possibly in recognition—and did a doubletake, or whose eyebrows scrunched in confusion as if they were trying to figure out if they’d seen me somewhere before. But there were not nearly enough passersby for me to get lost among them. I snuck a quick peek over my shoulder.
Crap on a cracker! Not only had I not lost my pursuer, he was just a few paces behind and closing in, with a same kind of look a dog gets when a piece of steak lands in front of them.
Should I scream? Make a scene? And say what? That some man was walking on the sidewalk behind you? Maybe he just wants your autograph. If he was going to hurt you, he wouldn’t be doing out in public…would he?
I did my best to pick up my pace, but the same heel that I thought made my legs look longer managed to wedge itself into the space between the concrete blocks of the sidewalk. I guess it was my lucky day because there was a trash can right next to me that allowed me to catch myself before I fell. Well, a trashcan and its overflowing trash, that is. And even luckier, I had cushioned my fall with the remains of someone's nacho snack. I stared in disgust at the orangy goo that now covered my hands.
I saw the shadow of someone stop behind me. An arm lifted. Maybe most people have a “fight or flight” instinct, but my adrenaline system must have been out of order because “stand and freeze” was my first reaction.
"Ms. Hart," a nasally voice said behind me. I braced myself for whatever was to come. “Allow me.” A small plastic package was held before me.
Oh, god! I took a deep breath and slowly let it escape. Pasting on my best smile, I turned as best as my trapped foot allowed me. "Thank you," I said as I accepted the tissue pack he offered me.
"I always carry extra, you know, during allergy season," he continued.
"That's very wise of you," I answered. "I appreciate your help, but if you'll excuse me, I'm late meeting someone." Unable to find a better solution, I pulled a couple of tissues from their plastic packaging and gingerly wiped the sticky mess from my fingers. I dropped my trash onto the overflowing pile next to me.
"Maybe I could escort you?"
Oh, for the love of Pete! I glanced around my surroundings and could have nearly cried in relief.
"I appreciate the offer, but I'm actually at my destination. You have a good day, now, ya hear?" I turned and headed for the entrance of a restaurant ahead on my left.
"Oh, what a happy coincidence! I'm heading in there myself. I'd love to buy you a drink."
Of, course you are! Where are the police when you need them?
Without answering, I left the bright sun outside and entered the dark restaurant. I had to stop and let my eyes adjust. I glanced along the bar in front of me, and my eyes landed on exactly who I was looking for. With a huge smile, I rushed over to the man sitting by himself at the end of the bar.
"Sweetheart! I'm so glad to see you!" I cried throwing myself into his side, nearly falling into his lap.
Strong hands settled on my hips and gorgeous green eyes stared back at me. A smile played around his mouth, but before he could say anything, I flung my arms around his neck and pulled his head down to mine. I only meant for it to be a quick peck of greeting, and I didn’t mean to draw too much attention. But when our eyes met, the grassy green of his eyes turned emerald. His arms pulled me tighter, effectively lifting me against him as his lips molded themselves to mine once again. I felt myself begin to get lost in his arms until someone cleared his throat behind me.
Remembering myself, I pulled back. My handsome guy set me back on my feet, keeping his hands at my waist as I rocked slightly in my heels. He looked over my shoulder and frowned.
"Oh, um," I mumbled. "This…gentleman….came to my rescue earlier and insists on buying me a drink." I stared hard into those beautiful eyes, hoping he'd catch on to my hint. I breathed a sigh of relief when he winked at me, understanding flashing in his eyes.
"Well, now" he answered, a mild southern accent turning his speech almost musical. "I appreciate you taking care of my gal here, but it's been so long since I've seen her, she feels like a stranger. I just want to keep her all to myself." He squeezed my waist and gave me another kiss on the lips. "I'm sure you understand, don't you, um…?" He held out his hand and arched his eyebrow as he stood, keeping me tight against his side. For the first time in a long time, I felt safe.
“Charlie,” my shadow answered, accepting the gesture, although he didn’t seem to want to.
“Charlie. All right, then.”
Charlie stared up from his disadvantage of at least eight inches to the man standing with his arm wrapped protectively around me. "Oh, uh, yeah. Sure. I understand." He slunk away, still casting a scowl over his shoulder as he moved toward the door. For good measure, I wrapped my arms around the solid man holding onto me until the door shut behind Charlie.
I started to sag in relief. "Thank you so much," I whispered as I took a step back. "He's been following me since I left my hotel."
"Well, sweetheart." He smirked, and I noticed he had a small dimple. "I'm always happy to help out where there's a need. But maybe you can just tell me one little thing.” Those green eyes narrowed their gaze on me. "Who the hell are you?”
Look for AGAINST THE SCRIPT, coming late 2018!
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Women everywhere desire him. Men want to be him. She’s married to him…and she’s giving him up.
Damon and Tara were high school sweethearts and totally in love—at least until fame ripped their family apart. Now Tara thinks the only way to survive is to let Damon go…but he’s determined to prove her wrong.
Turn the page to read an excerpt of Alex and Kayla’s story in North Star, available for free on most platforms!
Excerpt from North Star
Book 1 in the Polaris Series (free on most platforms!)
PROLOGUE
&nbs
p; Somber charcoal gray eyes stared straight ahead before slowly shifting upward toward the changing skies. Anything was better than looking at the two cherry-wood caskets resting side by side. White cumulus clouds tinged with pink were being overtaken by more ominous slate colored ones. A chill wind whipped around bringing with it the sharp, fresh aroma of ozone. Chirping birds fell silent on their branches, their songs replaced by faint rumbles of thunder. If it wasn't for the tragic circumstances, he might have laughed at the cliché the weather provided.
Finally lowering their gaze, those same eyes took note of the surrounding people. Women sniffled quietly and dabbed at their eyes while the men shuffled their feet and stared soberly at the ground. Above the meditations of the priest, one sound suddenly pierced the air, making the poor man jump in his vestments. A woman wailed in grief, then rather melodramatically swayed on her feet necessitating the man next to her to catch hold of her waist. The owner of the eyes grimaced. He glanced sideways at the silver-haired woman dressed in an expensive black suit and his hands clenched into fists. While his heart should have constricted in sympathy, instead it nearly exploded in anger.
Bitch. You didn't care enough about him while he was alive. Why are you even here?
He deliberately brought his attention back to the caskets, and his heart skipped a beat as the ugly reality of the event sunk in. His twin sister and his best friend were about to be lowered into the cold, unforgiving ground. All their hopes and dreams of building a long loving life together and for their children, current and dreamed of, were being buried with them. From the moment he'd heard they were dead, his heart had been filled with anguish. Memories of all the times they had spent together since childhood as well as the plans they would never get to enjoy ricocheted in his head. The past few days he'd been kept busy helping his parents make all of the arrangements as well as greeting the constant flow of people stopping by his home to offer their condolences and drop off food. Now finally, in this quiet moment broken only by the priest's intonations, an overwhelming sense of grief consumed him.
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