by Avery Samson
“And with that image burned into my brain, I think I’ll sign off,” the deep voice from my laptop rumbles.
“Hang on,” I say with a grin, spinning my laptop around so it stops in front of her bright red face. “Here, say hi to Sophia.”
“Hello, Sophia,” Grayson says as she sends him a tiny wave from across the room.
She’s covered her mouth with her other hand in embarrassment. Laughing, I turn the laptop back around to face me.
“Okay, it’s heading to you now. Let me know what you think. I like our prospects, the numbers seem to be solid,” I say.
After we sign off, I close my computer, grinning at Soph.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were talking to your brother? I’m so embarrassed. Maybe he didn’t know what I was talking about,” she says as she twists the lid on a bottle of soda.
“Really? He has like ten or twelve kids now. I’m pretty sure he knew what you were talking about.”
She laughs, shaking her head.
Okay, I’m not a complete asshole. I know there are five so far, but they reproduce like rabbits.
“So what has you so excited?” I ask, walking around the end of the desk. Over the last several months, I’ve learned to turn just about anywhere into an office. It’s amazing what I can do with just my laptop, a notebook, and a pen, though I have found myself sitting on a rooftop on occasion just to hit the Wi-Fi from the consulate two blocks away. They should really think about enhancing their cybersecurity protection.
“We finished today,” she says, as I hug her close to me. “I think it’s our best piece yet. But that’s not the best part.”
Placing her hands on my chest, she pushes me down on the bed, stepping between my knees. Her face is absolutely beaming as I sit on the edge of the bed, watching her. I still can’t believe she’s mine. There’s been a diamond ring riding around in my “office” backpack since our stop in Amsterdam, but I haven’t found the perfect moment yet to make it official. I will though, and sooner rather than later.
“Fuck, babe. You’re killing me. What is it?”
If her smile gets any bigger, it’s going to blind me. Now she’s starting to get me all worked up.
“I have to be in Lyon, France in a month.”
“Okay?”
So far, since finding Sophia again we’ve covered more miles than I can keep up with. A trip to France doesn’t seem like that big of a deal.
“The studio got such good ratings for my human interest pieces on the active-duty soldiers and the street children of Mumbai that they want me to do one on women rescued from sex trafficking. I’m supposed to start at Interpol headquarters to learn about their combined efforts with local police departments to stop human trafficking.”
I agree, her first two independent stories were brilliant. I also know that if I can stand to have her traipsing around with her cameraman in the back alleys of India, I can support her delving into the abyss of human trafficking.
“That’s fantastic. Great job, sweetheart.”
Apparently, I’m still missing an important part of this when she grins even wider.
“It’s for 60 Minutes,” she whispers, starting a little jig of sorts.
“No fucking way!” I say, jumping up from the bed, narrowly missing knocking her over. “As in tick-tick-tick, I’m Bill Whittaker, I’m Leslie Stahl…”
“Yes!,” she screams at me before standing up straight to pose. “I’m Sophia Wright and this is 60 Minutes,” she says before squealing in excitement.
Wrapping my arms around her, I spin us around as we laugh before falling on the bed together. I fully expect by the time the segment airs, she’ll be Sophia Bennett, but that’s a discussion for later.
Rolling on top of me, she straddles my thighs, bending over to crash her lips against mine. She shoves her tongue in my mouth as she grinds against me. Once we’re both panting for air, she lifts back up, looking at me.
“60 Fucking Minutes!” she says, letting out another squeal.
Grabbing my wrist from her waist, she pins them above my head, diving back down for another mind-blowing kiss. She has me totally pinned under her. Well, not really, since I have a good eighty pounds or so on her, but this is nice anyway.
“Oh,” she says, popping back up. “We have to get ready for dinner.”
Jumping off the bed, she rushes to the shower. Laying flat on the bed, I stare in disbelief at the ceiling. That’s fine, leave me with a raging chub. Whatever.
“Fuck me, we celebration danced too long,” I say to the ceiling, sitting back up.
“I intend to later, fuck you, that is, like a roller skater with a disco stick,” Sophia says from the doorway of the bathroom around the toothbrush stuck in her mouth.
I don’t even know what that means. What in the hell is a disco stick and what does someone on skates do with one? I’ve found Sophia has a lot of these kinds of sayings, but if they get me laid in the end, I’ll go along. Grayson said he’s afraid I’ve rubbed off a little too much on her.
Hearing the water turn on in the shower, I head toward the bathroom, pulling my shirt off as I walk. There’s something else I’d like to rub off on her. This thing isn’t going to go down by itself after all. Finding a naked Sophia putting her hair up while she waits for the water to heat, I unbuckle my pants.
“Teddy, what are you doing? We don’t have time. Both Lydia and Garrett will be waiting on us.”
Ms. Shieffer had quickly become Lydia somewhere along the road back to Kabul. The two women had become close friends the more they worked together. She had managed to teach Sophia more in the last handful of months than the four years before being assigned to her.
Garrett had been sent to replace that douchebag, Jay. Not only is he a great cameraman, but he’s happily married to his spouse, Marc. Personally, I trust him wholeheartedly to watch out for Sophia when I can’t, and keep his hands off of her.
“Soph, you know I’m only twenty-three. It’ll take me sixty seconds, ninety tops.”
With a laugh, she grabs my wrist, pulling my naked body in with her. I think that is my favorite thing about Sophia. She laughs all the time. Well, next to the tits and pussy. No, if I’m truly honest with myself, it’s her laugh. Although I never get enough of that other stuff either.
Sometimes when she smiles at me with laughter in her eyes, it’s like I’m seventeen again. We’re back cruising in her car that summer with the windows rolled down singing along to whatever is on her playlist. Her hair is swirling around her head in a halo of browns and golds, her skin a deep tan from the sun. She looks at me with a wink, laughing when I blush from the attention and I remember wanting time to freeze in that moment. That nothing could be better than that moment.
Fortunately, time didn’t freeze or I would never have known life could get so much better. Although, it would be nice if time slowed down occasionally. She gave me five minutes in the shower, that’s all. I mean, I can be fast, but damn. Fifteen minutes later, we’re joining the rest of her team in the restaurant next to our hotel.
“I am so sorry we’re late,” Sophia says as we take our seats.
“Nonsense,” Lydia responds. “After the news you got today, I figured a little celebration was expected.”
I’m not sure I’m entirely comfortable with the knowing wink she gives me.
“I have some more, but I think it can wait until after dinner.”
We place our orders without looking at the menus since none of us read Bosnian. Fortunately, the waiter on our first night spoke English and went over the menu with us.
“You’re killing us, Lydia. What other news have you heard?” Sophia asks when our food arrives.
“Well, I was on the phone with the head office right before coming here. They said not only can you have Garrett as your cameraman since he already lives in France…”
“Oh thank God,” I mumble, but apparently not quiet enough to not cut into what Lydia is saying. “I mean, yay,” I add when they
all turn to me.
Garrett just laughs. He knows perfectly well why I’m excited Sophia has been paired with him. It’s the same reason Marc was excited to hear he had an all-female crew.
“Anyway,” Lydia says with a side glance at me. “They’re giving you a full month off so you can hunt for a home.”
Soph looks over at me, her brilliant smile mirroring mine.
“Ahh, crap,” I say, pulling a look of mock frustration over my face. “I’m going to have to learn French, aren’t I? Baby, you know I can barely speak English.”
With a laugh, Sophia shoves at my shoulder, knowing I’m teasing her.
“If you’re nice, I’ll lend you Marc. He’s a marvelous teacher, he’ll have you parler français in no time. I’ll also introduce you to a great estate agent if you’d like,” Garrett said with a wink.
“Parfait. Merci,” I respond.
So I lied a little to get a laugh from Sophia. I discovered in high school that I pick up languages relatively quickly. It won’t hurt though to brush up with Marc anyway.
The rest of the evening, we relax as plans are made to return to our homes or what will be ours soon. Starting tomorrow, we have one month to find somewhere to live before Sophia has to meet the new production staff in Paris.
Our month is quickly drawing to an end. We’ve looked at houses all over the French countryside with no luck. It didn’t take us long to decide that we didn’t want to live in Paris. Between the cost and pace, we both agreed we would like somewhere quieter. It’s still important, however, that Sophia can reach it easily by train when she needs to work from her office.
Staying in Garrett and Marc’s guest room while hunting, our French has improved greatly. Especially since Marc insists we only speak French when we’re all together.
The house we’re being shown today is an old farmhouse that will need some work. Actually, saying it’s a fixer-upper might be a bit of an understatement. It’s going to require a lot of hard work and skills I don’t have.
Our estate agent keeps reassuring us that she has a list of contractors that would help me turn it into a showplace. I’m not the kind of guy that needs to keep up with the Jones, but indoor plumbing would be a bonus.
On the plane from Bosnia, we agreed that we would rent a flat for a couple of years before buying. After the first week, we realized that was harder than we expected. Since then we have been looking at anything we can buy in our price range.
Which means that, even with Grayson helping me with the down payment, it will involve at least a year of manual labor. But then, a little hard work never hurt anyone.
There are some good things about the place we’re currently looking at though. It has plenty of space in the house and the internet signal is supposed to be pretty strong. There is also close to ten acres included with the house, but it still isn’t too far from neighbors.
The village down the hill is within biking distance with plenty of shops and small restaurants. There’s even a farmer’s market on the weekends when the weather is nice.
Walking outside, I find Sophia standing next to a low wood fence, covered in wild roses, looking out across the valley below us. Our agent left a few minutes ago ensuring me that we are welcome to take as long as we need before leaving us to return to the city.
Sophia doesn’t hear me stepping out of the back door, so I have a moment just to take her in. It’s a beautiful spring day with the sun just starting to wane in the sky.
She’s dressed in a long light blue dress patterned with flowers and sandals. Her hair is swirling in the light breeze, bringing out the highlights that lace through it. I can see why the Impressionists were inspired by the beauty of the area. But even if I had their artistic skills, I don’t think I could ever do her justice. Watching the setting sun turn her skin bronze, I marvel again that someone so beautiful could love someone like me.
“I don’t know, Teddy,” she says. “The house needs so much work.”
Her amber eyes take another sweep at the valley below. She’s biting on her lower lip in thought, something I’ve noticed she does when she’s worried. In that instant, I want to wrap myself around her and assure her that everything will be fine.
“But it’s so beautiful. What should we do?” With a sigh, she closes her eyes as the setting sun lights up the sky. “Tell me, where do you want to live?”
“Wherever you are,” I answer.
Turning around as if in slow motion, Sophia gasps, finding me on my knees. Between us, I’m holding up the ring between my thumb and index finger that I’ve carried in a jewelry bag for weeks in my pocket.
“I’ve loved you since I was fourteen, Sophia. You’ve been the only woman I’ve ever loved. The only one I’ll ever give my heart to. The only one I want to grow old beside. I crossed a desert to be with you and I’ve followed you around the world just to have another day of happiness. Marry me, my love. Let me be the one man you can never forget. Let me be your forever.”
You might think it’s unmanly or I’m a complete sap, but I truly do believe in happily-ever-afters. Mine began when I was just thirteen and a man I had never met before sat down across from me in a small room at a boy’s home.
He taught me how to be a man and how to love unconditionally. It continued as I was embraced by his friends who accepted me for not just the good in me, but the bad attitude and foul mouth as well. They taught me the meaning of loyalty and patience.
Yes, I’ve even seen my share of happily-ever-afters. It’s in my brother’s face when he holds his children. It’s in the faces of his friends as they laugh, love and find their lives made better simply because of their friendships with each other.
Mine though? It’s in the tears that trickle down the face of the woman standing in front of me as one perfect word flows from her mouth like a whisper on the breeze. That word? The three simple letters that complete my life? That makes any hardship that became before worth it? It’s as simple as...
“Yes.”
The End
….for now.
Thank you for joining me on Teddy and Sophia’s journey to find their happily ever after. I hope you fell in love with them as much as I did.
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Also by Avery Samson
Hers to Keep
Isabela is on the path to reaching her career goals ahead of schedule. No distractions. That’s before she agrees to let her friends decide on what to do for her birthday. Now she finds herself staring at the birthday present she never counted on. The one her well-meaning friends bought her at a charity auction. It’s a birthday present she knows will only cause problems but who can resist tall, dark and handsome?
* * *
Grayson is a rising star in the financial world. A world that is ruled by control and intellect. When he is recruited by a client as a bachelor in a charity auction, he assumes he will only have to spend one evening with an insipid rich woman. He never counted on the sultry, driven beauty he’s been bought for by a mutual friend. People in your life just cause distractions, but can he let this one go, even when he has to give up his control to keep her?
Hers to Win
Lily Rhett has everything, a great family, her dream job, loving friends. She’s always been the take charge, jump in with both feet person everyone relies on to fight the good fight. It’s exhausting. Just once she craves to give someone else the responsibility of making the decisions. She would happily give up control for just a little while to get some peace. But she’s accepted that it won’t come from anyone she knows. It definitely won’t be the tall, quiet number cruncher from her friends office. He couldn’t be the one, right?
* * *
Matthew Gibson likes his sex rough and his woman compliant. Underneath his quiet, nerdy exterior is a man who likes to push the envelope. So what is it abo
ut the explosive blond has him intrigued from the moment he meets her? She is commanding, competitive and sexier than anyone he’s ever met. The more she challenges him, the more he wants her. Can he teach her that with submission comes power? Does she know he is the man to show her she can be both sides of the coin? Or does he throw away everything he thought he needed for the one thing he doesn’t want to live without?
Hers to Take
The universe is definitely trying to tell me something. It’s saying that tall, dark, handsome Marcus Johnson is not the man for me. But if that’s true, why does fate keep throwing us together? For four years now, he has appeared and just as quickly disappeared from my life. No one can say that I don’t have my life together. I know exactly where my life is going and I don’t need some wishy-washy man slowing me down. Even if he has the most knee-weakening deep brown eyes or a voice that sends shivers down my spine every time he speaks. Oh and did I mention he’s going to be a doctor?
* * *
I was raised to be a good man, respect my elders, respect women, work hard, study even harder. It’s how I’ve lived my life so far. Up until the fateful basketball game when she bounced on to the court with her short skirt and pom poms. Suddenly all I can think about is being bad, very bad. I have all of the moves too, well on the basketball court anyway. Because when it comes to the cheerleader of my fantasies, Dia Price, I’m a complete disaster. I can’t seem to stop messing everything up when I’m with her, I just hope I can fix it before it’s too late.
Hers to Tame
Maggie Emerson has known Colin Rhett since meeting him in her friend’s swimming pool her freshman year of college. Everyone knows the playboy with the movie star looks. They also know he goes through women with barely a second thought. So what does she do when he appeals to the literature teacher in her? She gives him a book, of course. What about when he doesn’t stop at one? Maybe the Colin everyone thinks they know is really much deeper than anybody gives him credit for. If she looks, really looks at him, will she find the man of her dreams or that same playboy she thought he always was?
