by Jones,Lesley
“I said, it doesn’t work.”
“What doesn’t work?” Her frown deepened, and she gave her head a small shake as she asked.
“The belt from the robe, it’s not wide enough, I can still talk around it.”
She tilted her head to the side and looked away from me for a few seconds, still frowning and looking deep in thought. Her eyes slid back to mine and narrowed.
“And you know this how?”
Despite my brain screaming at my body not to react, my head turned slightly to the side and my eyes attempted to cast a backwards glance at the wrought iron headboard our pillows were propped against.
I felt my skin heat. From my boob up to the roots of my hair, I felt as I were I was on fire.
“You dirty little ho. He’s tied you to this bed and gagged you that belt, hasn’t he?”
I sucked both my lips between my teeth. Even the tips of my ears are scorching hot.
“Like I said.” I let out a sigh, acting as if I weren’t the least embarrassed and just frustrated that I had to explain myself. “The belt from my robe is useless as a gag. It’s too narrow, making it possible to still talk around it . . . But it makes for a great restraint.”
“You need to stop. That is so hot, you’re making me wet.”
“Eww, are you wearing knickers under there?”
“Nope. So expect a snail trail to be left behind when you finally peel me off these sheets.”
“You are seriously gross.”
She threw herself back down onto the bed where she slept beside me last night. I used the term loosely as we spent most of the night eating jelly vodka shots and giggling like we were fifteen again.
“I’m not gross. Just horny. Three months without sex will do that to anyone.”
“I know, I’ve been there, remember?”
“Well you’re getting plenty now.”
“I know. It’s great.”
“Ho. Slutty, sex-having, bondage ho.”
“Yep, that’s me,” I said with a smile. I couldn’t be bothered to turn my head so I just grinned up at the ceiling.
“So what are you stressing about? You love him. He’s hot, loaded, and the sex is great.”
“We barely know each other.”
“You’ve been living together for the past two months and have spent almost every night together for the past eight or ten, or however long it’s been.”
“Eight. I don’t count the start.”
“Why?”
“Because then I have to think about all the BS that went on, and I don’t want to.”
“That’s just childish.”
I turned to face her and shrugged.
“I don’t care. If I think back on all that, I worry that I let him off too easily. I worry that I was too forgiving, and that brings me right back to the whole point of this conversation—should I be doing this?”
There was a light knock on my bedroom door before Nan came in carrying a large tray, laden with croissants, a fruit platter, a bottle of champagne, and a jug of fresh orange juice.
“Morning, girls, I heard you talking and thought I’d bring this straight up before the croissants got cold.”
Sash and I both sat up as Nan set the tray on the small table in front of the window.
“That looks amazing, Nan, you didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”
“Oh, I didn’t, love. Liam had it all sent over from the hotel, they just delivered it. Like I said, I didn’t want the warm bits getting cold.”
Nan had insisted that all the boys, including Grandad, spend last night at the village pub, which also offered bed and breakfast. The restaurant there made great meals and was where we often went for breakfast when visiting my grandparents. The croissants were handmade, as was the jam that they served with them. Of course Liam knew they were a favourite of mine. My heart smiled at his thoughtfulness.
I was absolutely doing the right thing by marrying him today.
Wasn’t I?
I sat cross-legged on the bed as Sasha said from beside me. “And you’re seriously wondering if you’re doing the right thing?”
Nan rose her eyebrows as she uncorked the bottle of Moët and then turned to look at me. “You’re having doubts, Sarah?”
My bottom lip wobbled, so I nodded my head instead of attempting speech.
“Well, I’ve no clue what’s in it, but this was delivered with breakfast.”
She passed me an envelope. I ran my finger over the thick, silky paper. Biting down on my bottom lip, I slid the clean butter knife Nan had passed me under the seal and pulled out the sheets of paper folded inside.
Good morning, pretty girl.
I hope you slept better than I did. My night was horrible without you in my bed. I know I moan that you take up all the room, but that’s the way I like. That’s the way that I want it to always be, your hand smacking me in the face all night and your leg somehow always finding its way between mine—the one that’s not hanging out of the bed that is. That’s how I want to spend every night for the rest of forever.
So, Sarah Carter, today you will become Sarah Delaney. You’ll become my wife and I’ll become your husband, but those are just new titles to let the rest of the world know, to make them aware of our commitment to each other, but they mean nothing to us or what we feel for each other. What we mean to each other. At the end of the day, bub, we’re all that matters. Only we know the truth, the rest of them can guess, but they’ll never really have any idea.
I know that you’ve probably woken up this morning with a million and one reasons why you shouldn’t marry me going around in your head. I know that as you sit and read this letter, eat your jammie croissant, and drink your Buck’s Fizz, that you’re having self-doubts that we’ve rushed into this and that it’s way too soon. I know this, because I know you. Just like you know me like no one else ever has. I know you, and because I do, I’ll just say this: trust me, Sarah, please. I know I let you down before, I know I handled things poorly, and I am so eternally grateful that you forgave me. By doing so, you led us to this most special of days.
I won’t stand up in front of our friends and family and make promises that I can’t deliver, but I will promise you this . . . that I love you and each and every time I look at you, I love you a little more, which is something that has happened from the very first time I laid eyes on you. You’ve changed me, Sarah. You surprise, challenge, excite, and intoxicate me in ways that I never knew were possible, and I’m a better man for it.
I promise that I will always be true to you, that I will support you in any way that I can, and that I will do everything in my power to fill our lives with love and laughter, but I’m a realist, and as well as all the good times, we both know that there will be bad. When shit happens, when we’re shouting and screaming at each other, when the clouds hide the sun and there’s not a rainbow-farting unicorn in sight, I promise I will love you then as much as I do right now. Even when I annoy and frustrate you, when I forget our anniversaries, or our dinner dates, I will still be loving you. I will spend my life giving up my last Hob Nob for you, and I will even let you dunk yours in my tea. You will forever be my pretty girl, and I hope that I will remain your favourite New South Austrian.
Liam X
I was absolutely doing the right thing.
Wasn’t I?
I can’t explain what I felt as the first words to Snow Patrols “Chasing Cars” started to play. I heard everyone stand, and at least a thousand butterflies attempting a synchronised swim was the sensation I had going on in my gut. My heart threatened to fracture my sternum as it smashed against it, and a trickle of sweat rolled down my neck and traced the length of my spine.
“You ready for this?” Luke asked quietly from beside me.
“Not even a little bit.”
“You wanna walk away now?”
“Not in a million years.”
“So, you stay and you do this, and just so you know . . .”
I finally t
urned my head slightly to look at him.
“You hurt her, cause her to cry, even by accident, I’ll know. I’ll know, and I will make you suffer.”
“I’ll never hurt her, not even by accident.”
He gave a slight nod and then turned to face the aisle. I took a final breath and did the same. My heart slowed and then held steady in my chest, not beating, just hanging there.
First came Jarrah, my nephew. I smiled while observing the concentration on his face as he carried the cushion that had our wedding rings set on top as if his life depended on it.
My nieces Harper and Everly came next, Sasha following behind them.
Luke’s shoulder accidently nudged mine as he raised his hand to his face, and I fought to control the tremble in my jaw as I watched him wipe a tear from under his eye.
He cleared his throat and shifted on his feet, fighting to regain his composure. My eyes finally traced the length of the cream carpet, to the entrance of the marquee where she stood with her Grandad.
“Shit she’s beautiful.”
I didn’t mean to say it aloud, but there it was.
Her dress was lace, but that was all I could tell you about it. When my eyes landed on her, nothing else existed.
She looked tiny as she stood with her arm hooked through Archie’s. Her dress clung to the curve of her hips, and I closed my eyes for a second as I took in the exposed skin of her chest and neck.
The pair of them took a step forward, and my eyes finally landed on hers. Air left my lungs in a sharp exhale, leaving me feeling winded and short of breath.
Tears slid down my face, but instead of trying to stop their decent, I let them take their course.
I knew in that moment that she was everything that I’d never known I wanted. And fuck me if I didn’t want to make her mine in every way possible.
She was good—so fucking good. She was sweet and honest and so very many things that I wasn’t or could ever hope to be.
I didn’t deserve a second thought or glance from her, but here she was, about to make me her husband.
She was looking at me as if I were the only thing she saw, and it humbled me. I was so unworthy of that look, of that want, need, and absolute love her gaze conveyed. It was the same look she gave me the very first time she’d laid eyes on me, and even now, it almost brought me to my knees . . .
END OF PART ONE
Coming Late 2016.
Keep Reading For A Teaser…
I'm not sure at what stage I became aware of the fact that I was still alive, breathing and in hospital, it was before I was fully conscious that's for sure.
I drifted for what could have been minutes, hours or days. Noise, smell and sound all gradually overwhelming my senses until I could no longer ignore or deny the fact that I was living.
My throat felt sore and scratchy when I tried to swallow and my chest and ribs felt like they'd been crushed, kicked or stamped on.
I lick my lips and once again attempt to swallow, before opening and then rapidly closing my eyes.
The white light sears my pupils. It’s too much. Far too bright. Far too full of life and all things living. The glare gives me an instant headache, almost like brain freeze from eating ice cream, except it vanishes as soon as I close my eyes and shut out the harsh fluorescent glow, life and the world.
I leave it a few moments before making another attempt and as I do, I become aware of someone else in the room and my heart lurches against my ribcage, before crashing to my stomach.
There’s a person in my room.
At least one, maybe more.
People… I’m going to have to face people. I’m going to have to face my family, my friends, even the nurses and staff at the hospital and I’m going to have to explain my actions. I hadn't brokered for this scenario.
I kick the side of my car so hard that the dent I cause is deep enough to split the paint work, so I kick it again for good measure. I press my forehead against the cold of the driver’s side window and try to draw in deep breaths.
From the minute I realised Sarah wasn’t home yesterday afternoon, I’ve shook. My heart, my soul, my bones, even the blood in my veins has been shaking nonstop. I’ve never been so scared in my life. Terrified.
I went through the doors of that hotel room expecting to find one thing and instead I found another. Something I never expected to see in my life, ever.
A loud sob rips from my chest and I quickly climb into my car so that any one that happens to be lurking in the hospital car park doesn’t have to witness my fourth breakdown of the past twelve hours.
Why? Why would she do this?
Promiscuous. Nelly Furtado.
I knew I loved you. Savage Garden.
If I ain’t got you. Alicia Keys.
I love your smile. Shanice.
Chasing Cars. Snow Patrol.
Unfaithful. Rihanna.
Ruby. Kaiser Chiefs.
How to save a life. The Fray.
I don’t feel like dancing. Scissor Sisters.
Boulevard of broken dreams. Green Day.
Love don’t let me go. David Guetta.
Rehab. Amy Winehouse.
Hung up. Madonna.
Too little too late. JoJo.
Seaside Heart. Carnage.
Changes. 2Pac.
Somebody told me. The Killers.
Joker and the thief. Wolfmother.
Freak me. Another Level.
Saviour
Resolution
Carnage Book #1
Carnage Book #2
Marley
The Letters
Conviction
This gets harder every time I publish and I always worry there will be people I’ll forget. So, let’s get started…
Ash, my editor. You have achieved the impossible and made me love the editing process. You challenge me and make me think outside the box, but, never forget, I write using British English, there will be no, guys, no trash and no happy holidays. Ever!
Jeanette, my proofreader, tihs book wold bee so flu fo rerrors fi it wast’n orf ouy. Yank thou!
To my amazing admin team, Vix, Marian, Angie, Sasha, Lisa, Sharee and Sam. Some of you have been with me since Gabe, most, since Sean, Georgia and Cam. I dedicate this book to you all. For your unwavering support, of not just me, but of each other. We are our own unique little family. We bitch, we moan, we laugh and we cry. You are my safe place, my levellers and I love you all.
To my beautiful beta squad, Bianca, Angie, Jeanette, Kirsten, Lisa, Marian, Petra, Sasha, Serena, Vix and Tina, I thank you for the feedback you give me as I drip feed you words.
To the ladies of my reader group, you rock my world. Effie, Goldi, Irene, Gaynor, Elizabeth, Sue, Pat, Terri, Faye, Kim, Shabby and so very many more, your passion and unwavering support, knocks my socks off on a daily basis.
Bianca, thank you for your support and amazing assistance at all of my AU signings. You’re a star.
Abbey, thanks for getting me organised for this release. I don’t know where I’d be without your skills!
For all of the bloggers that pretty much dedicate their lives to this amazing book world, I thank you for my career.
To Sarah Hansen at Okay Creations, thank you for my amazing cover. I said ‘get artsy’ and you sure delivered. I love it hard.
For each and every one of my amazing readers that I’ve had the pleasre of meeting face to face, all around the world theses past few years, thank you so much for taking the time to stop by my table and say hi. The best part about book signings is meeting all of you. You are who I fan girl over!
To the ‘Book Haven’ girls. Love you ladies, thanks for making me an honoury member!
To all of the authors I now have the pleasure of calling friends, especially KM, Mo, Jessica, Elle, Nina, Lili and Callie, it humbles me that I am considered one of you. When my name appears on a list next to yours, I will always and forever get tingles and have to pinch myself. That shit will never get old.
L
ast but not least, my family. Thank you for putting up with what you do, I love you such a much.
Lesley Jones was born and raised in Essex, England but moved to Australia ten years ago. She now lives by the beach on the Mornington Peninsula, just outside of Melbourne.
When she’s not writing, she loves to read, listen to music, watch football, sing badly and drink good wine.
You can find, follow, or stalk her at these places…
Website:
http://lesleyjonesauthor.com/
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/LesleyJonesAuthor/
Instagram:
https://www.instagram.com/lesleyjonesauthor/
Spotify:
https://open.spotify.com/user/lkjis
