Where We Belong

by K. L. Grayson

  “It’s okay,” she cries, tightening her hands around my back. We stand there, in the doorway to my house, holding onto each other for dear life. Her tears slowly stop falling and she kisses me gently. “I forgive you, too,” she whispers against my mouth. “So we’re good now?”

  “We’re better than good. You came back to me and nothing else matters. We’ve got this.” Her answering smile is all I need to know that she feels the same way, but her next words are what seal the deal.

  She unwinds her arm from around my back and sticks her hand in the air. “Pinky swear?”

  “I’M NERVOUS.”

  “You got this!” I look down into a set of chocolate eyes. Every time I look at Max, I now see Dallas—and that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Don’t get me wrong, if my brother wasn’t already dead, I’d fucking kill him for what he did. But after a lot of talks and a lot of tears with Harley, I’ve learned to accept it.

  Suffice it to say that not everything has been peachy keen after the night we reconciled on my doorstep. We’ve both battled through the guilt and regret of everything that we’ve been through, but we made it. Sure, we’ve had disagreements and arguments along the way, but what couple hasn’t?

  Our biggest one was over why she didn’t call the cops after her attack. It warmed my heart to hear that she did it to protect my family and me, but I still wish she had turned the bastard in. Of course, I won’t tell her that because she’s convinced that she’s right and it’s just easier to agree—and more importantly, it doesn’t make a difference at this point anyway.

  “What if she says no?” What the hell is wrong with me? I’m talking to a kid in kindergarten.

  Max reaches up to smooth his hands down the front of my shirt, and I can’t help but laugh. He’s such a little grown-up. “Then you should throw a fit,” he says, matter-of-fact. I raise an eyebrow, cocking my head. I’m not going to lie: I’m slightly terrified to hear what’s going to come out of his mouth next.

  “A fit?”

  “Yeah,” he shrugs. “That’s what I do.” Bending over, I grab Max around the waist and toss him over my shoulder.

  “You’re a genius, little dude!”

  “I know,” he mumbles into my back as we walk to the car. “Are we going to Grandma and Grandpa’s now?”

  “Yup,” I reply, opening the car door so that Max can climb in. I love that he likes going to my parents’ house. That was another source of contention between Harley and me. It took me a long time to wrap my head around why she chose to keep Max away from my parents, and to be honest, I’m still not sure I understand her reasoning. But I can’t change it—the past is the past—and we pinky swore to put the past behind us.

  Together, Harley and I had a very delicate conversation with my parents. We told them about the attack—and about Max. It was an emotional gathering, with a few cuss words, lots of hugs, and even more tears. But my parents harbor no ill feelings about it; they’re just happy to have Max—and Harley—in their lives.

  Max doesn’t officially know that my parents are his biological grandparents; that’s just too much for his little mind to comprehend. He calls them grandma and grandpa because they’re my parents, and well, he’s been calling me dad, so to him it just makes sense. My parents are on cloud nine every time they get to see him, and between them and Harley’s parents, we pretty much have free childcare any time we want it.

  My parents are waiting outside when I pull up, and Max flies out of the car and up the front walk, slamming directly into my dad’s chest.

  “See ya tomorrow, bud!” I yell at his retreating back. He stops and turns, a magnificent smile lighting up his face.

  “Good luck!” he hollers. Shooting my parents a quick wave, I hop in my car to head back home. Home. I love that word. There’s nothing in the world better than coming home every night to Harley and Max, and everyday I thank the Lord that Harley gave me a second—and third—chance.

  Harley’s car isn’t in the driveway when I pull up to the house, so I rush inside to put a few last-minute touches on my big surprise. I’m just finishing up when I hear the front door slam shut.

  “HONEY! I’M HOME!” I chuckle, walking in the front door. The house is quiet—too quiet. Shrugging off my coat, I toss it on the back of the couch. I walk into the kitchen, stopping in my tracks when I see a dozen roses presented beautifully in a crystal vase on the table. But it’s not the roses that catch my attention...it’s the green coupon tucked in the center.

  On wobbly legs, I walk to the table. My hand shakes as I pull the coupon out of the bouquet. I run my finger along smooth paper, slowly turning it over in my hand.

  “I want your heart.” His raspy voice startles me and I jump, clutching the coupon to my chest.

  “You scared me,” I whisper, taking a deep breath. He smiles, taking a couple steps forward, stopping in front of me.

  His soft eyes are boring into mine when he repeats himself. I grip his hand, pulling it up to rest over the left side of my chest.

  “It’s already yours.” He swallows hard as tears spring to his eyes. “Are you okay?” I ask, suddenly nervous about why he’s acting so strange.

  “I will be.” With his free hand, he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a blue coupon. He holds it out in front of me, and my eyes flit nervously between him and the coupon before I drop his hand and take it.

  My watery eyes find his. “It’s already yours,” I whisper, choking on my words when I see him pull another coupon out of his back pocket. This time it’s purple—my favorite color.

  “You’ve got my heart, and my body is yours. What more could you want?” I quip, causing him to laugh.

  “Just one more thing,” he replies, handing me the purple card. I turn it over, and after reading the most beautiful word ever, I squeeze my eyes shut.

  Tears drip down my face and I take a shuddering breath. When I open my eyes, Tyson is kneeling before me on one knee and my hand flies to my mouth. A sob rips from my throat as I look into his dark brown eyes, which are swirling with love.

  He peels my hand off my shocked face. His hands are trembling and his palms are sweating, but when he speaks, his voice doesn’t come out shaky…it comes out strong and unwavering.

  “You’ve given me your body, Harley. You’ve even given me your heart. But that isn’t enough.” I shake my head, confirming that 'no, that isn’t enough.' My shoulders bob as I cry silently in front of the love of my life. “I want your future, Harley. I want your forever.”

  His eyes are full of love, anticipation, and maybe a little fear. I think it’s time to put him out of his misery. I drop to my knees, and he lets out a harsh breath. “Yes,” I whisper, peppering kisses across his face. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

  “Yes?” he asks, his bright eyes roaming my face. I nod once and he glides his fingers up my arms, stopping when he has my neck cradled between his warm hands. I watch in slow motion as his mouth descends on mine. Our tongues collide, but this time it isn’t a lust-fueled battle. It’s sweet, sensual, and full of more love than I could ever convey with words.

  Tyson pulls away all too soon. I whimper at the loss of his mouth against mine and he chuckles. “This is perfect,” he says, waving his hand between us. “This…it’s…”

  He’s obviously at a loss for words, so I interrupt him. “It’s perfect, because we’re together—in each other's arms—right where we belong.”

  THE END

  Please keep reading for a preview of Nevaeh Lee's debut solo novel Defying All Odds.

  I'M GOING TO BE wordy because I have a ton of people to thank, so please forgive me. This book has been a dream come true for me, a literal bucket list check-off, and hands down I could not have finished it without the support of my amazing husband. Honey, thank you for ignoring the messy floors, loads of unfolded laundry, and sink constantly full of dirty dishes. Thank you for getting up with the kids every morning and letting me sleep because I stayed up way too late writing or editing. Your endless
stream of encouragement means more to me than I could ever tell you and I love you so very much!

  Alexis—oh Alexis. 'Thank you' seems so insignificant. One of the best things I got out of writing this book was your friendship. You took me under your wing, guided me, plotted with me, encouraged me, and laughed with me. Thank you for always being there for me, no matter the question or concern. I promise not to be so crazy the next go around!

  My soul sister, Nevaeh Lee. I am thrilled that we somehow managed to find each other in the chaotic Facebook world. We learned quickly that we totally suck at buddy reading, but oh boy, did we have fun! Our connection was instant on so many levels—you know the ones—and I've told you a thousand times that fate brought us together!

  S.G. Thomas, my amazing editor. When we met, you didn’t know I was writing a book, and I had no idea you were an editor. After you read my prologue, you sent me a message on Facebook—a message I will never forget. ‘Holy-cow girl, you can write.’ And that was all it took. Your opinion means the world to me, and I am so grateful that you edited this book.

  To Jackie and Michelle. You two have been my rock. I’ve never laughed harder than I do when I’m talking to the two of you. We literally spend every single night together, and it’s because of those nights that I was able to finish this book. You pushed me, cheered me on, and picked me up, and your friendship means the world to me.

  Barbara, I feel like we were insta-friends! I’ve absolutely loved getting to know you, and your kind words, encouragement, and friendship has been the highlight of many of my days. It’s never a dull moment when we get together online—or on the phone! And I can’t forget the way you swooped in and saved my tushy. In fact, I’m certain I’ll never be able to repay you for that!

  Livia and Ana, both of you only knew me for five minutes, and yet you jumped right in to help me with a scene—or scenes. Your generosity and kindness are inspiring, and I am so thankful to each of you. Elisabeth, Keshia, and Mia, thank you for answering question after question after question. The three of you opened yourselves up to me when no one else would and for that, you guys rock!

  To the girls at Three Girls and a Book Obsession. Thank you so much for rocking my cover reveal! I’ve loved working with you and getting to know each of you. You girls are wonderful at what you do!

  Lastly, thank you to the bloggers that participated in my cover reveal and blog tour. Thank you for sharing my teasers and sending me messages of encouragement. It’s because of you that indie authors like myself get their books noticed.

  K.L. Grayson resides in a small town outside of St. Louis, MO. She is entertained daily by her extraordinary husband, who will forever inspire every good quality she writes in a man. Her entire life rests in the palms of six dirty little hands, and when the day is over and those pint-sized cherubs have been washed and tucked into bed, you can find her typing away furiously on her computer. She has a love for alpha-males, brownies, reading, tattoos, sunglasses, and happy endings…and not particularly in that order.

  Defying All Odds

  by Nevaeh Lee

  Chapter 1

  Celeste

  He shot my damn dog.

  This could not be happening.

  Granted, that dog was annoying as hell and did bark his head off when the guy forced his way inside the house. But still….

  If he had waited half a second, he would have realized that the only threat that stupid dog posed was maybe licking someone to death.

  I guess it wouldn’t help to point that out now.

  Especially since there were more pressing matters at hand, namely the gun barrel pressed in between my breasts. And the beyond creepy-looking delivery guy who I’d bet my favorite pair of skinny jeans wasn’t really a delivery guy, but who was looking at me like he just struck gold.

  Shit.

  Time for a quick assessment of this situation.

  The creepy delivery guy-who-probably-wasn’t-a-delivery-guy was holding a gun, and he’s obviously not afraid to use it. He didn’t even hesitate before killing my dog, and my best guess was that he didn’t think much more highly of me. He wasn’t wearing a mask, which meant that whatever he had in mind—and I’m afraid I knew exactly what he had in mind—he would kill me when he’s done. There would be no reason to leave me alive and his self-preservation dictated my death.

  Unfortunately for him, my self-preservation instincts were kicking in too. But even though everything in my body was telling me to fight like hell, I wouldn’t.

  My assessment complete, I began to focus once again on the guy in front of me. Not that I had much of a choice in the matter with the gun now pressing harder into my sternum, forcing me backward.

  “What do you want?” I asked with the steadiest voice possible.

  “What do you think I want?” he returned, a creepy voice to match a creepy guy.

  I hated being right sometimes.

  “Alright, buddy—”

  “Name’s Joe, not buddy.”

  Yup, definitely not planning on leaving here with me alive, I thought. Randomly, I also wondered if his name really was Joe. Probably.

  “Okay, Joe…let’s talk about this.”

  “No need. Nothin’ to talk about. In fact, talkin’ is not on the agenda. Finding the bedroom is, so let’s start walkin’.”

  Right.

  “Well, since I know your name, it’s only fair that you know mine,” I said in introduction, as if we were having a casual conversation. One where there wasn’t a gun pointed at me.

  “Again, no need.”

  So appealing to his humanity was obviously not going to work. I didn't think so, but figured it wouldn't hurt to try. Time to negotiate then. Probably the less he knew about me the better, anyway.

  “Um, I’d like to make a deal with you,” I began, rushing on before he got the chance to interrupt. “What if I said I won’t fight you?”

  “I’d say you won’t fight me anyway. I’ve got the gun,” he replied, pushing it into my chest. As if I needed the reminder.

  “Yes, but since I know that you have no problem using it,” I stated, indicating Hero lying on the floor nearby, “then I don’t have anything to lose, do I? Might as well go down fighting.”

  “So what are you offerin’? Besides, of course, what I’m already gonna take.”

  I’d have given just about anything to wipe that nasty smirk off his ugly mug, but instead I respond with the absolute last thing I want to say. “What I’m offering is my full cooperation, which I assure you, will be much more enjoyable for you,” I said, raising my eyebrow.

  His eyes widened, then immediately narrowed. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because I want to live,” I said simply. “So when you’re done, you leave, and I live. It won’t do me any good to report it, since I’m a willing participant. Therefore, there’s no need to kill me when you’re through.”

  Creepy-guy Joe appeared to think about this for a few seconds and apparently his pea-sized brain couldn’t find any reason to argue, so he agreed. “Okay, deal. Now move it.”

  “Shake on it.”

  “Lady, you’re pushin’ your luck.”

  “Sir,” I said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. “I don’t have any luck…obviously.” This was seriously the understatement of the century. “Just please,” I pleaded, with as little desperation as possible, “shake on it. I want your word.”

  “Fine,” he said, shaking my hand with his calloused one. I fought back a shiver, knowing that within minutes, that same hand would be on my body. “Now let’s go.”

  Looking into his cold, nearly black eyes, he seemed sincere, albeit in a hurry. And really, what choice did I have at this point but to believe him?

  I hated turning my back, but knew I was safe as long as he still wanted something from me. And the sight of him licking his foul lips told me it was time for that something to happen.

  With a heavy sigh, I took one more look at Hero and turned to march up the stairs, as if
to my execution. I prayed to God that it wasn’t.

  When I entered my bedroom, I went straight toward the bedside table, opened the drawer, and pulled out a condom.

  “Oh, hell no—” he started.

  “Look,” I interrupted, “unless you want me to hunt you down to pay child support for the next eighteen years, then you will wear this. Got it?”

  He didn’t even appear to think about it this time. Guess he knew how much child support costs.

  “Damn woman, you’re even more of a pain in the ass than my ex.”

  Yup, he definitely knew.

  “Fine, I’ll wear it,” he conceded. “No more negotiations. I’m in charge here. I’ve got the gun and the swingin’ dick. So get undressed—now.”

  ***

  I lay on the bed, shaking, allowing myself a few minutes to pull my shit together. I knew he had left because, after hearing the door slam shut, I dragged myself off the bed long enough to look outside the window and watch him drive away in a non-descript white van. I couldn’t see the license plate and my Jell-O legs wouldn’t have carried me down the stairs, even if I did care enough to go and try and make out the plate number. But I didn’t…there was only one thing on this earth that I cared about. Well, two really.

  After a deep breath, I glanced at the clock. Time’s up. The less thinking I did, the better off I was anyway. I reached across the bed and picked the phone up from the nightstand. After two rings, my friend, Ana, picked up. “Hello?”

  “Hey,” I said, trying to control the unsteadiness in my voice.

  “Celeste, what’s wrong?” she asked immediately. Damn.

  “Ana, I need a favor. You know I hate to ask—”

  “Done,” she interrupted.

  “You don’t even know what it is yet.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Whatever it is, consider it done. Now tell me what’s going on,” she demanded.