by Holly Rayner
“Before I propose, I want you to know that I will spend every day of the rest of my life loving you. The last six months have been the best of my life, and it is a crazy thought that those six months could extend forever, but that’s what I want to ask of you.”
Julien dropped down to one knee. The sun was hovering over the horizon, the world awash in golden light. The tide was rolling out and crashing against the rocks the way it did on the covers of my favorite romance books. And Julien looked like the perfect romantic hero—eyes forever blue, lips parted in a smile, hands slightly trembling.
“Yes,” I said, unable to wait another second.
His eyebrow lifted in amusement. “I haven’t asked you anything yet.”
“Then, hurry,” I said, biting my lip. “Please.”
He laughed and shook his head. “Will you, Ashlynn Reed, do me the extraordinary honor of marrying me?”
“Yes!”
I threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and knocking him off balance until we both fell backwards. Julien dug the ring box out of the sand and slipped the ring onto my finger. It was beautiful, but I could hardly notice it. The man beneath me was a much better sight.
Epilogue
Six Months Later: Julien
Ashlynn kicked me out of the beach house after the third time I’d tried to sneak into the bedroom to see her.
“It’s bad luck, Julien!” she shouted through the door. “I don’t know how you Europeans feel about it, but Americans are very superstitious.”
“Five minutes can’t be bad luck,” I said, twisting the handle, though I knew the door was locked.
“One peek is bad luck,” she said. “I already have the dress on. We might even be pushing it by talking through the door before the ceremony.”
“So, I really can’t see my wife on our wedding day?” I asked, pouting.
“You really can’t.” I turned to see Brianna standing behind me, her newborn daughter nestled in her arms. “I’m guarding this door. So, unless you want to be forever known as the man who fought a woman and her infant child, I’d suggest you move along.”
Ashlynn laughed from the other side of the door, and I knew I didn’t have a chance. Once the Reed sisters banded together, there was no stopping them.
Brianna held her hand up to her mouth and whispered, “Follow me.”
Intrigued, I followed her down the hallway and out the front door. She kept walking around to the side of the house and stopped near a low brick wall. She sat down, little Amelia still snoozing away against her chest, and then patted the space next to her.
I sat. From the wall, I could see a section of the beach behind the house. White chairs had been arranged in the sand, and a white arch decorated in peonies and baby’s breath stood at the end of the center aisle.
It felt impossible that it had already been six months since I’d proposed to Ashlynn in the very spot where our ceremony was set to take place. And it felt even more impossible that she had only been in my life for a year.
I couldn’t imagine life without her. Without waking up next to her or calling her to ask what she wanted me to pick up for dinner. I couldn’t imagine my bathroom not being covered in stage makeup and hair curlers and brushes.
“I think we need to talk,” Brianna said, drawing my attention back to the present.
“Oh, really?” I asked, already sensing what this was going to be about.
Ashlynn didn’t have any brothers and her dad was far too nice to interrogate me the way most dads would. But Ashlynn did have one fierce big sister. When I’d wanted to propose to Ashlynn, I’d called to ask for Brianna’s blessing first, because I’d known she would be my toughest critic. Ashlynn could make her own decisions, but if Brianna disapproved of me, it would have broken Ashlynn’s heart.
“Don’t give me that charming smile. It won’t work on me,” Brianna said, narrowing her eyes at me as though she had X-ray vision. “I want to talk about how you are going to treat my sister.”
I stopped smiling and arranged my face into a neutral expression. “We’ve been living together for a year. You know how I treat her.”
She nodded. “Yes, I know how you have treated her. I want to ensure we are on the same page about how you will treat her. Ashlynn has been hurt before. You know this. Her first marriage started out just fine, but it fell apart. Jonathan couldn’t support her the way she needed to be supported. He didn’t take care of her the way she deserved. I want to walk down that aisle today as her maid of honor feeling one hundred percent confident that you are the right man for her.”
“I’m not sure how to do that,” I said honestly. “I’d love to make you grand promises about writing her love notes every morning and bringing home flowers every Friday, but I can’t guarantee I could keep those promises. I might get busy on a Friday afternoon and forget to order flowers. The only thing I can do is tell you that I will love her no matter what.”
I reached down and plucked a yellow dandelion out of the grass, twisting the stem between my fingers.
“Ashlynn and I may not always get along perfectly. There have been days over the last year where she has almost driven me up the wall, and I’m sure I’ve done the same to her. But I’ve always loved her. I will wake up every day for the rest of my life and choose to love her. And that is what I can promise you. I hope it’s enough.”
I looked up and saw Brianna wiping at her eye, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I’m annoyed at how good that was.”
“That sounds like something your sister would say,” I said with a laugh. “So, did I pass? Have I earned your blessing?”
Brianna looked up at me, a genuine smile on her face. “You passed. It was beautiful.”
We stood up to leave, Brianna leading the way back around to the front door, but before we reached the corner of the house, she turned around, finger pointed at my chest. “Don’t tell Ashlynn this conversation happened.”
“Obviously,” I said, winking at her.
She rolled her eyes at my attempt at charm and we went back inside.
The beach was pale gold in the light from the sunset, the water lapping against the shore as I stood beneath the arch waiting for Ashlynn. The ceremony was small—just our immediate friends and family—which was what we both wanted. Brianna stood across from me, tears already pooling in her eyes, and the minister stood behind me beneath the altar. He had his hands folded in front of him, a serene smile on his face, and I wished I could be as calm as he was.
Even though I’d known I wanted to marry Ashlynn since our first date, my heart was thundering in my chest, and I could hear blood rushing in my ears. I felt like I could pass out at any second. I was seconds away from asking the minister if I could use his pocket square to wipe the sweat from my forehead when the French doors on the balcony opened and Ashlynn stepped out.
My breath caught in my throat. No one had ever looked lovelier in all of human existence. Her golden hair was twisted to one side and cascaded down her shoulder in glossy waves. Her lacy dress cut a deep line across her chest and then flared out in elegant ripples, starting at her waist, until it pooled around her feet. I knew she was barefoot under the dress because she had been too afraid she’d trip in the sand if she was wearing heels. The thought made me smile, and Ashlynn smiled back at me.
When she made it to the front of the aisle, I reached out my hand and she accepted it. Her hand was small, but it fit inside of mine perfectly, and I thought how wonderful it was that, in every way, we seemed to be made for one another.
The ceremony was lovely, I’m sure, but I barely paid any attention. I couldn’t take my eyes off my bride. I had already promised her my entire heart, and anything else she could ever want, so the vows felt redundant.
When the minister announced that I could finally kiss my bride, it felt like someone had fired the start gun at a race. I lunged for her, tangling my fingers into her hair and crushing her against my body. The crowd laughed, but I had forgotten everythi
ng but Ashlynn. I hadn’t seen her all day, and now, she was standing before me looking unbelievably gorgeous.
“Save some of it for the honeymoon,” Brianna whispered.
Ashlynn laughed and pulled back, looking up at me, her eyes wide and bright.
When the minister announced us as “Mr. and Mrs. Garnier,” I felt like the luckiest man in the world. We ran down the aisle hand in hand as the guests clapped.
Late that night, we snuck out of the beach house, navigating the sleeping forms of our very drunk wedding guests, and made our way to the car.
“You’re sure you want to spend our honeymoon on the yacht?” I asked for what had to be the hundredth time.
Ashlynn laughed. “Yes, Julien. I’m sure. Positive.”
“I’m just checking,” I said, holding my hands up. “I know you’ve conquered your fears, but a month is a long time to spend on the water.”
Ashlynn threw her last bag into the trunk, slammed it shut, and then grabbed the front of my shirt, pulling me against her.
She looked up at me from beneath a playfully furrowed brow. “I'm sure.”
We'd been planning our yacht trip around the French Riviera for months, and Ashlynn had never once wavered in her belief that she could handle it. I knew she could, too, but I wanted to make sure she'd enjoy the honeymoon as much as I would.
It would be the last time either of us had time off for a long time. As soon as we got back, racing season would be starting up again, and I had a title to win back from Alain. And Ashlynn would be starting her new job as a principal member of the Opera de Monte Carlo.
“Okay, then. Do you have everything?”
She stretched up to her tip-toes and pressed her lips to mine. “Yes. I have everything I could ever need.”
I wrapped my arm around her waist and hugged her against me, kissing her forehead. “Me too, my love. Me too.”
The End
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Big Greek Baby Secret
Time for a tease!
Up next is the first chapter of the previous book from my Billionaires of Europe series, Big Greek Baby Secret
Happy reading!
Holly x
Copyright 2018 by Holly Rayner
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part by any means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the explicit written permission of the author.
All characters depicted in this fictional work are consenting adults, of at least eighteen years of age. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased, particular businesses, events, or exact locations are entirely coincidental.
Chapter 1
Maxine
I could have cried when my boss spoke the words I’d been wanting to hear for weeks. I could have kissed Diane’s toady face. I could have flipped my dress over my head and danced on the desk.
I didn’t do any of that, of course. When Diane said, “You’re ready for your first international business trip, Maxine,” I just smiled and nodded.
“Thank you for the opportunity, Diane.”
Inside, I was screaming. I’m going to Greece! For three days!
Three days would hardly be considered a pit stop by most experienced travelers, but I was not an experienced traveler. I couldn’t count the number of times I’d left the state of Wisconsin, because it had never happened. As a kid, I’d gone to summer camp a couple of times, a few hours outside of Madison, but aside from that my entire life had been stuck in one place. Now, at least for three brief days, I would be a world traveler.
I’d taken the telemarketing job right out of college. I’d wanted the business degree so that I could one day open my own business—a bed and breakfast, like my mom had run—but that wasn’t something I’d felt capable of at twenty-two.
When my first rent check had come, and I’d emptied my bank account to pay for the one-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment, I’d accepted the first job I’d been offered. Anything with a steady paycheck would work. And it was where I’d been for four boring years.
I’d started as a telemarketer, making cold calls to businesses, selling whatever was being promoted at the time. Office equipment, computer software, eco-friendly light fixtures, you name it. After three years, seven months and twenty-six days (but who’s counting, right?), I was promoted to a managerial position. It didn’t come with an official title, but I oversaw a small department of people and was able to sit in on the weekly meetings with corporate.
That was where I’d first heard about the trip to Greece.
“The conference is taking place six weeks from now on the Greek island of Barkas. Three days at a resort. There won’t be much time between meetings, but you might be able to squeeze in a quick sight-seeing tour or two before flying back,” Diane read aloud, deadpan, from the information printed on a sheet of paper. “Volunteers?”
I looked around, waiting for hands to shoot up. I was expecting my coworkers to begin arguing, scrapping for any chance to be the person lucky enough to take an all-expenses paid vacation to Greece.
After a tense few seconds, Marie raised her hand. Marie was nearing retirement age. She had told me the week before that she and her husband had bought an RV, which they planned to tour the country in.
“We’re going to sell the house, ditch our worldly possessions, and spend a few years on the road. When we get tired of that, we’ll rent one of those places down in Florida where they let old people play bridge and bingo till they kick the bucket.”
I’d laughed and thought how I admired her “go with the flow” mentality, but as she raised her hand in the meeting, if my eyes had been capable of shooting lasers, I would have seared her hand off at the wrist.
You’re going to tour the country with your old man in an RV in a few years. Leave the living to us young folks, Marie!
“What’s the schedule for the trip?” Marie asked.
Diane clicked her tongue as her eyes scrolled over the paper in front of her. “Fly out early Friday evening, arrive Barkas Saturday afternoon. There’s a meet and greet that night in the resort’s conference room. Meetings all day Sunday and Monday. Leave Tuesday morning and, with the time difference, arrive back mid-afternoon on Tuesday.”
Shockingly, I heard a few groans from my coworkers.
“I know the schedule is a little packed,” Diane said. “But surely someone’s willing to take one for the team?”
Take one for the team? As if this was some kind of punishment?
I wanted to raise my hand, but it was only my fourth meeting, and I didn’t want to presume too much. Sure, they’d given me a promotion, but being sent halfway across the world to represent the company seemed a little above my pay grade.
Still, if no one else wanted to go, I could make out that it was a real hassle, but I’d do it anyway. Maybe they would appreciate my self-sacrificing nature and promote me again. I mentally chastised myself for letting myself get carried away. I wanted to go on the trip, not get another promotion.
Just as I was gathering the courage to raise my hand, Stephen raised his.
Stephen. Suck-up Stephen, as I liked to call him, had brown-nosed his way to a regional manager position, and he was nothing if not a martyr. Always staying late to make sure reports got in, taking early morning phone calls with overseas clients, working holidays to make a sale. Some people would say he was just a good employee, but I was not one of those people. I would swear on a stack of Bibles that Stephen did these things only to make me look bad.
“If no one else is interested,” he said, shrugging his shoulders, “I’ll go.”
“I would, but my daughter is going to state finals for track that week,” Richard said. He loved to brag about his kid
s, and I never minded because he seemed so genuinely proud. Everyone paused to be mildly impressed, which left Richard beaming.
“I went to the last conference,” Shelly said. “It doesn’t seem fair that I’d do another one.”
One by one, everyone aside from myself and Stephen excused themselves from the trip. Eventually, all eyes fell on me, the least senior employee in the entire room, and I debated what to say. I could let Stephen go and then die a little bit inside, or I could speak up and fight for the opportunity.
I glanced at Stephen. His lips were pulled tight. I could see how much he wanted to go. How much he wanted me to turn down the opportunity. I took a deep breath and went for it.
“I’d love to go. It sounds like a great learning opportunity for me.”
Diane loved learning opportunities. She had unofficially accepted the role as my telemarketing mentor, so she loved the idea that I looked up to her.
“That’s true,” Diane said to the table.
“Do you think you’re ready for an opportunity like this, Maxine?” Stephen asked.
“I really think I am,” I said, shooting Stephen a smile. “Thanks for your concern.”
Stephen smiled back, and I could tell we were both resisting the urge to strangle the other.
Diane clapped her hands, breaking our staring contest. “I’ll think on it and then get back to you both with my decision.”
A few days later, she had called me into her office to give me the good news. And now, some five weeks after that, I was sitting in the airport, checking for the hundredth time in the last hour that I had my passport and didn’t have any liquid containers over three ounces in my carry-on bag.
