by J. L. Berg
Ready or Not
Copyright © 2014 by J.L. Berg
All rights reserved.
Cover Designer: Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations, http://www.okaycreations.com
Editors: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com; Ami Deason, www.bookglambyami.com
Formatting: Champagne Formats
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Visit my website at http://www.jlberg.com
ISBN: 978-0-9903460-5-0
Table of Contents
Other Books by J.L. Berg
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Epilogue
Coming Soon
The Ready or Not Playlist
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Other Books by J.L. Berg
The Ready Series
When You’re Ready
Ready to Wed
Never Been Ready
Ready for You
Within These Walls
For Jovana and Ami—Thank you for crossing my T’s, dotting my I’s and making each and every word shine. You are my rockstars.
Twenty Years Ago
I stood on the large stage and quietly bent forward, smoothing the tiny wrinkles out of my pretty pink taffeta dress. The fabric glittered and shimmered as I moved under the bright spotlights. A simple satin bow sat high on top of my head, and dark ringlets curled down my back, reminding me of all the princesses Daddy would tell me about at bedtime.
Looking around at the crowded room and the large audience standing before us, I couldn’t help but smile.
I guessed I was kind of like a princess now.
“Stop fidgeting, Olivia,” my mother whispered next to me.
Her pale pink coat matched my dress, but it wasn’t nearly as pretty. It made her look old and stuffy. I liked it better when she used to dress in shorts and sandals, and she’d dance with me in the sprinklers when the weather got too hot and sticky to stay indoors.
I heard a tapping sound as a microphone came alive. My attention turned to the front of the stage as the crowd exploded in applause.
Smiling, I watched my daddy step out from behind the curtain, grinning and waving, as he passed by a sea of red, white, and blue. Signs bearing his picture and name were bobbing up and down amid the crowd, and I soon found myself covering my tiny ears to block out the thundering noise.
Slender polished fingers wrapped around mine and tugged my hands back down to my sides. I looked up to find my mother wiping tears from her eyes. She gave me a tight hug, and then she whisked away salty trails that had made their way down her cheeks.
“He’s no longer just ours anymore. Things are going to be different from this moment on,” she said.
I glanced back at my father, who was now standing at the wooden podium. After thanking everyone in the room, he turned around and motioned for the two of us to come forward.
“I wouldn’t be anyone without these two women standing beside me—my wonderful wife, June, and darling daughter, Olivia.”
The crowd cheered, and I couldn’t help but smile and blush a little.
I really did feel like a princess—or at least a senator’s daughter.
Whatever that was.
My father always said that being a senator was a big deal. All I knew was, his face was everywhere, and soon, he’d start working at the Capitol building downtown. I’d once taken a field trip there. It looked like the White House, and everyone said it was very old.
“This is only the first step. We’re making waves in Virginia ladies and gentlemen! Victory tonight, change tomorrow!” he bellowed into the microphone.
The crowd erupted once again as he wrapped his arms around us. My mother’s tears continued to flow as I smiled out at all the people cheering for my father.
She was wrong.
Daddy wasn’t different. He felt the same, and he certainly looked like the same goofy dad who would tuck me in at night and sing me songs about dinosaurs and princesses having tea parties.
It was just a job. Kara was one of my friends at school, and her father had gotten a new job. The only thing that had changed in Kara’s life was that she got a bigger house down the street.
We already had a big house.
I looked up at my daddy one more time as he squeezed me closer to his side and waved to the crowd.
Nothing would change.
He’d always be my hero.
~Liv~
Late.
I was always late.
I didn’t know how others managed their lives so effortlessly, especially when they had responsibilities outside of themselves, like kids and husbands and a few plants.
I had only myself to manage, yet I was always running around like a nut at the last moment, trying to decide things like if the teal or brown sandals went better with my dress.
“Teal. Definitely teal,” I muttered as I stared into the floor-length mirror hanging on the back of my bedroom door.
Shoe decision made, I shifted into hyperdrive and began throwing on bangle bracelets and a scarf before finishing everything off with a spritz of my favorite lavender perfume.
I flew down the stairs and made it to the door before I came to a screeching halt.
“Brown!” I yelled to no one in particular as I ran back upstairs to switch my shoes for the tenth time.
I ran back down to the first floor of my historic little house and managed to grab my keys and purse before rushing out the door. I had just turned the lock when I noticed a beast of a moving van occupying the entire street.
“What the hell?” I mumbled, looking around in a daze.
My little blue Prius was perfectly blocked in by a red monstrosity of a moving truck.
Mike’s Movers was plastered on the side, and two big, bulky men were slowly moving down a ramp with a large blue dresser.
“Excuse me!” I yelled, marching over to the beefy quarterback-looking men.
“Yeah?”
“Are you aware your truck is blocking the entire street?” I asked, trying to ignore my high-pitched tone and the way my hand attached itself to my hip.
I looked like a bitch.
But I’m angry!
Beefy man number one’s eyebrow arched in amusement. I had no doubt
he found my annoyance cute and endearing.
“Sorry, sweetheart. It’s a narrow road, and there aren’t any alleyways big enough. We’re going as fast as we can.”
“Listen, sweetheart,” I replied, making his lazy smile falter slightly, “I’m late for something, and I really need to get out of my driveway. So, if you could move your big-ass truck just a smidge and let me out, I’d be so very grateful.”
Apparently, my attempt at politeness with a dash of southern charm hadn’t worked. Not even a little.
The man looked at me blankly, before wiping his nose with the sleeve of his sweaty shirt. “Sorry, we’re under a time crunch, lady.”
“Ugh!” I cried out in frustration. “Is there an owner to all this crap?”
“There is, but he’s not here right now. I think he got stuck in beach traffic on I-95. Moving here from down south, I think,” he rambled.
“Awesome.”
I took one last glance at the truck completely blocking in my car from getting on the road leading to my best friends’ house—Mia and Garrett Finnegan.
I would be late once again.
An hour later, after whipping my car into gear and flying down the road as quickly as possible in the direction of Garrett and Mia’s, I was finally on my way to the party.
Arguments with new neighbors and moving companies immediately vanished.
My little godson was turning one today.
It still amazed me to say that I had a godson.
When Mia Emerson had arrived on my doorstep four years ago, I’d found a shell of my former best friend. She’d looked much the same. Although older and perhaps a bit less naive than the last time I’d seen her, it had still been her peeking through those watery blue eyes—or at least part of her.
The other half she’d left behind eight years earlier when she walked away, broken and ashamed. When she’d found Garrett standing on a street corner in a farmer’s market, it was like the entire world had righted itself that day.
It had taken time and a lot of healing on both sides, but eventually, they’d found a path back to each other.
Then, they’d found Asher, my beautiful little godson.
Due to a miscarriage gone wrong, Mia could never have children of her own. After their first couple of years of marriage, she and Garrett had decided to adopt and make a family of their own. Seeing my two best friends become parents was a joy I couldn’t describe, and it’d made me believe that anything was possible.
Except the possibility of me ever being on time.
I glared at the stoplight that had been stuck in the annoying shade of red for what seemed like an eternity, and I silently willed it to turn green. Someone must have felt pity for me in that moment because the light miraculously turned, and I quickly made it down the last few blocks to the cute little renovated house where Garrett and Mia had been living since she returned to Richmond.
Since Garrett had moved in, the house had undergone several upgrades, and now, it was the showpiece on the block. Its fresh paint and beautiful landscaping made it one of the most sought after pieces of property in the area. But until little Asher needed more room or if they decided to add to the family, I believed the Finnegans were staying put.
I didn’t bother knocking, and instead, I just entered through the front door, yelling, “Hello?”
Mia’s golden retriever, Sam, came barreling down the hallway. Several small children followed behind, chasing his tail.
I gave him and the kids a proper welcome, and then I proceeded into the kitchen where the majority of the adults were crowded around the hors d’oeuvres.
“Hey, everyone. Sorry I’m late.” I set down the veggie and hummus platter on the counter next to a large bowl of fruit.
“No problem.” Mia grinned.
“What?” I asked, noticing the mischief in her eyes.
“Well, we’re kind of used to it by now.”
I chucked a kitchen towel at her head, and she burst out laughing.
“Shut up,” I mumbled. “You have flour in your hair.”
Her eyes widened as her hands flew up to her long brown hair, brushing away the white powder that had settled around her crown.
“I don’t know how you manage to be on time for work every morning, yet you’re late to everything else, Liv.”
I shrugged. “Don’t want to piss off my boss.” I winked, which caused everyone to laugh. “Where’s my—” I began asking just as the baby monitor went nuts.
Red lights started flashing as high-pitched wailing filled the room.
“Oh, there he is,” I said with a grin.
“He took an extra-long nap,” Garrett explained.
Mia motioned toward the stairs.
“Let me,” I said. “I want to snuggle him.”
My flowing teal skirt swished and floated behind me as I left the party and jogged up the stairs. I passed the master bedroom and walked down the hall until I reached Asher’s nursery. Pushing open the door to the dimly lit room, I walked inside.
The soft light in the room washed out most of the bright colors, leaving only muted, somber tones. The yellow on the walls was barely recognizable with the black shade pulled taut, but I could almost make out the tiny star shapes I’d painted on the walls months before he was brought home.
My little peanut was standing in his crib as little tears trickled down his chubby cheeks. As soon as he saw me enter, his little hands flew up, making little pinchers, as he lost the last bit of patience he had.
“Okay, okay.” I laughed. “I’ll spring you free,” I cooed, lifting him from the crib and nestling him in my arms.
He smelled like baby shampoo, so clean and fresh. Whoever had invented that particular scent was a genius. I had no plans of making a baby anytime soon, but just a whiff of that stuff even made my chained-up ovaries constrict just the slightest bit.
After a quick diaper change, I brought Asher downstairs to the rest of the family. His grumpy attitude was completely forgotten as he set his sights on his birthday cake. Blue with brown and white polka dots, it had a giant number one–shaped candle on top. After setting his wiggly body in his highchair, we all sang as Mia carried in the cake. As she placed it down in front of him, his eyes widened in delight as Mia tried in vain to keep his little pincher fingers from diving into the frosting. She and Garrett helped blow out the candle, and then they cut a small piece for the birthday boy. Everyone watched in delight and horror as Asher demolished the cake, coating his face and high chair in frosting and chocolate cake.
“He made a big mess!” Lily said to her mother, Leah.
A quick snort followed, and Leah answered, “Baby, you did the same thing. I was cleaning chocolate out of your nose for days.”
Leah gave me a quick grin, and I laughed. I loved Leah. We’d grown really close over the years, and I considered her one of my closest friends. She was the best friend of Garrett’s sister, Clare Matthews.
Somehow, I’d been pulled into this crazy family, making me one of them.
The Finnegans didn’t define family as a last name or bloodline. Family was being with loved ones, and everyone in this room—whether the last name was Finnegan, James, Matthews, or even Prescott, like me—was considered family.
It was the only kind of family I’d had in years.
~Jackson~
“Good God, I forgot about the wallpaper,” I muttered as I passed by the hallway bathroom. I dropped another box into the room that Noah had declared as his during our first walk-through.
“I’m kind of digging the toilet wallpaper, Dad,” he said.
His young laughter filled the hallway as I found him leaning against the doorway, which led into the horrible bathroom.
“It’s awful. Who does that?” My eyes roamed the floor-to-ceiling wallpaper that predated even me. It had probably once been a brilliant white, but it had faded into a dingy cream. The old antique toilets ranged from dusty blue to wrought iron and covered the entirety of the bathroom.
“Great Grandma,” Noah answered. “Obviously.”
“Yeah. She must have thought it was a good idea…in 1955.”
He laughed again as I messed up his hair. Darting out of my way as he rolled his eyes, he did what I could only describe as a Justin Bieber hair flip to move his sandy blond locks neatly back in place.
I’d tried everything to talk him out of that ridiculous haircut.
I’d lost. The hair was cool, and I just didn’t get it.
Gotta love tweens.
Noah was in those special years of development when he would be torn between the simple life of a kid and the alluring complexity of a teen.
My son was just about to enter sixth grade. I wasn’t quite sure what had happened to him in the last few months of grade school, but it was as if the thought and anticipation of going to middle school had suddenly turned him completely upside down and backward.
That, or aliens had abducted my real son, and this was just a stand-in. I was still unclear.
He was constantly moody, going from one extreme to another. One minute, I’d find him in his room, playing Legos and singing to himself, and then the next, he’d be yelling and screaming over being treated like a baby.
We used to talk, from feelings to Sesame Street and everything in between. Now, I would get shouting and a door in my face.
Was it me? Was I coddling him? Or were these raging hormones that had suddenly infiltrated his body, and they were too much for him to handle?
Part of me always wondered if it had something to do with the lack of maternal presence in his life.
What if I’m not enough?
I always tried to be all he needed, but as awesome as I was, I couldn’t be a replacement for a mother.
Standing in the hallway, I watched him shuffle off to his new room, no doubt in search of his phone or iPod, and I just shook my head. I didn’t have time to sulk or ponder over questions I didn’t have the answers to.
That blond hair, blue-eyed boy was the only thing I had in this world.
One way or another, I had to be enough.
~Liv~
I was pleasantly surprised to find my street free and clear of moving vans when I arrived home several hours later, stuffed full of food and high on the smell of baby Asher’s shampoo. He was my fix. I loved that little monster. As usual, Mia and Garrett had to pry him away from me.
