Wasted Vows

by Colleen Charles

  “Glad you could finally join us,” Ross said to his friend. Larissa beamed at us from her husband’s side. She still hadn’t lost that weird, self-satisfied smile.

  “You all ready for my speech?” Corban asked, shifting from foot to foot.

  Larissa perked up even more. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” What a weird thing to say about a housewarming party. I narrowed my eyes at her again.

  Corban took the wine glass from my hand and placed it on the table. He looked me in the eyes, searching me, loving me with the expression I woke up to every morning. I could never get sick of that or his pre-work kisses.

  “Luna, I’m so glad we could move in together into this perfect home. I think this place suits us, don’t you?”

  “I do,” I said and kissed both of his hands.

  “Not yet,” Larissa whispered. “But you will.”

  I ignored my kooky friend and focused on the man of my dreams, who was now my reality, hanging with baited breath on his every word. “I think we chose the best option for us.”

  “Yeah, it’s a fresh start. And I thought a lot about that fresh start for the past few months while we were looking for our new place.” He inhaled a long breath. “I wanted to move in with you as soon as we could, but I realized something very important is missing.”

  “What?” The color drained from my face. Was this some kind of sick joke? Was he about to break up with me? This was supposed to be a happy day. How could he do this to me in front of our friends? For a minute, I was transported back to my time with Thorn and our messy break up because Thorn had been a man I couldn’t trust. In my mind, I was running down the stairs of the cathedral again, away from him and his teammates and every judgmental face in the congregation.

  “And that something missing,” Corban said with a soft smile, “is forever.”

  I blinked away visions of sorrow and pain, the default emotions I’d had for too long. That wasn’t me. Not anymore. Old Luna needed to remain firmly in the past. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, this is all great. The house is here and we’re living in it together now, but I don’t think we can truly do it justice unless we make things between us more permanent.”

  My jaw dropped. No words came out.

  Corban took a knee in front of me, reached into the pocket of his slacks and brought out a black velvet box. He held it up to me. “You’re everything I could want, Luna. I knew it the minute you came into my office and messed up my desk. Of course, seeing your naked ass walking away from me didn’t hurt.”

  Larissa snorted as my eyes widened in shock but the humor somehow didn’t break the magic. It only added to it. Corban had chosen to do this in front of our two best friends and no one else. Thorn’s proposal had been in front of the entire team and the entire country – televised.

  “I want to make this official, indisputable. I want to be with you forever. Love you, fight with you, worship and adore you. Everything that grownups do.” Corban swallowed.

  I struggled to hold back tears. Larissa sobbed and clung to Ross beside the grill.

  “Luna Faye, will you be my wife? Will you marry me?” He opened the box and exposed the ring inside, a gorgeous platinum band with a three-karat cushion cut diamond, nothing like the boulder Thorn had presented me with to show off his wealth.

  I loved it, and I loved him to the core. “Yes,” I said. “Yes, of course, I’ll marry you.”

  He swept the ring out of the box and slid it onto my ring finger, then rose. I threw my arms around his neck and covered his face in kisses, tears escaping from the corners of my eyes, tracking over my cheeks.

  He swung me in a full arc and whooped. Ross applauded, and Rory let out a few choice yapping barks. Larissa giggled and pointed at me. “I told you. Isn’t this the happiest you’ve ever been?”

  Corban placed me on the ground. He cupped both my cheeks in his smooth, tan hands and drew me into a kiss that satisfied my soul.

  Yes, this was the happiest I’d ever been.

  Ever.

  THE END

  BONUS BOOK - WASTED HEAT

  By

  Colleen Charles

  Chapter 1

  “I’m so proud of you, Ally. You’re really doing this.”

  “It’s been a long time coming,” I murmured, tucking a strand of pale blonde hair behind my ear. I’d wrapped myself in one of those toasty wool ponchos and taken up residence at the front of my new bakery with a mug of hot cocoa sandwiched between my torso and palm.

  Snow drifted down from the heavens, blanketing everything in a veil of freshness. Of renewal. Like my life.

  “So, that’s it then. Bakery up and running, professional career on track, all you need now is—”

  I interrupted Kelly before she hit her stride, giving her a warning grunt. “Don’t even.”

  She sighed, a deep exhalation that caused static to crackle into my phone. “Aw, come on, let me set you up with someone. I’ve lost count of the hot guys who walk through our front doors. And it’s Christmas. You can’t spend the holiday season alone.”

  “I’m not alone, I have you and Pat. Besides, Kels, I’m going to be so busy with business, I won’t have time for a social life.”

  I could almost hear Kelly rolling her eyes. “Ugh, famous last words.”

  She was my best friend and had been since I’d moved to Minneapolis from Bemidji and wandered into their coffee shop two years ago. She and her husband, Pat, had taken me under their wing. Those had been strange times, before my break up with Matthew. When I’d had nothing to show for myself. A shiver ran through me at the memory.

  Kelly had encouraged me to pursue my dreams.

  “Ally?”

  “Huh? Yeah, I’m here.”

  “You went quiet for a second there.”

  A wave of gratitude washed over me. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Kels, you and Pat.”

  “Well, you’d be up shit creek without a paddle, of course.”

  I chuckled. “I’d better get some rest, big day tomorrow. These bank loans won’t pay themselves off.”

  “Tell me about it,” she replied, then paused, the silence stretching out for a few seconds. “If you need help with anything, give me a call.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said, then stuck my tongue out even though she couldn’t see me. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Later Allygator,” she said, then hung up.

  I put my phone in the pocket of my jeans and sighed. This was it, my first real endeavor at being my own damn person. I glanced around the bakery and grinned. Hard to believe where I’d landed from where I’d jumped.

  I picked out the décor myself — it had a burlesque atmosphere, with velvet cushions on the wrought iron chairs and round tables with glass tops. Very French bistro. In fact, in better weather, I could easily move a couple of tables outside.

  Silk floral arrangements in lush shades of purple, strung with Swarovski crystals served as centerpieces. The cupcakes would stand up front in the glass front counter, to showcase their sexy designs. And names.

  Kelly had rolled her eyes at my idea for a racy theme, but it was tough being an entrepreneur and a woman in business had to face the facts. Sex sells.

  That was the thing about baking, it wasn’t sexy unless you made it that way. And I planned on making it damn sexy. And licking the bowl.

  I slurped down the dregs of my cocoa and carried the mug through to my new kitchen. Sure, most of the stuff was second hand, but it was still my kitchen and I’d scrubbed and polished until you could see your reflection mirrored in the stainless steel.

  I trailed my fingers over the countertops, the Kenwood K-mix, and eyed the shelves with pride. I put up most of them myself, wielding my cordless drill. The work had taken my mind off Matthew.

  Rinsing out my mug, I yawned and shrugged my shoulders as exhaustion threatened to overtake me. I glanced at the staircase in the back, beside the door to the pantry, knowing I’d get to use th
em soon.

  The wooden steps led upstairs, to my tiny apartment above. Time to get a little rest. It was already past nine and I’d be up at the butt crack of dawn to get baking. I actually tingled with excitement at the thought. Tomorrow was a Red Velvet Rapture kind of a day.

  I strolled up the stairs and smiled at my cat, Codsworth, curled up on the sectional I’d pushed against one wall. He’d adapted nicely to the change too. I stroked him behind the ears, then headed to the bedroom and settled on the edge of my queen bed. What was the use of a king-size when there was no one to share it with?

  I brushed my teeth and glanced in the mirror at the green eyes staring back. My porcelain complexion held on to the dark circles of my recent fatigue and I resembled a raccoon. Too many long nights. Turning to the side, I sighed as I took in the curvy body I’d always resented because it would never be thin and stylish. Probably needed to lay off the taste testing in the kitchen. I rinsed, splashed cold water on my face and then tied my long, wavy blonde hair up in a ponytail holder. The book I’d started months ago and still hadn’t finished beckoned to me from my nightstand. Maybe just one chapter.

  I shook my head, then rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. Or, was it stinging? I stopped and sniffed. A strange smell burned my nostrils and coated the back of my throat. Kind of like an open campfire. Did the neighbors have a chimney or a fireplace or something? Were they burning trash? I hurried over to the window and opened it, then peered out into the alley. Nope, no smoke billowing into the night sky above.

  So where had it—?

  “Oh, shit,” I murmured “Son of a bitch. No, no, no, no.”

  I darted out of the bedroom, past Codsworth and down the stairs. The smell of burning intensified and as I got closer, the heat brought a new flush to my already scorching cheeks. I burst into the kitchen, praying to God for a miracle but my bubbling nausea told a different tale.

  One of the ovens had caught fire!

  Crackling flames had overtaken it already. They caught the edge of my favorite apron and made their way over the counter. I gagged on the smoke, eyes burning, tears streaming down my face from the fumes. Fear pushed me forward into the danger as I began to see my entire life about to go up in flames.

  How had this happened? So fast too, one second there was nothing, now half of my kitchen was on fire. I couldn’t see a thing.

  I ripped my cell out of my pocket and hurried to the front of the bakery.

  “9-1-1, what is your emergency?”

  “There’s a fire!” I choked out as I swallowed hard and about coughed up a lung. I stood in the thick of it, struck dumb by panic. And terror. “A fire, there’s a fire in my bakery.”

  “What is your location, miss?”

  “I’m at—” I broke off and hacked again. The front room had filled with smoke too. The temperature was sweltering. God, my bakery, this couldn’t be happening.

  “Please repeat that,” the operator said, cool as a damn cucumber.

  I spluttered and coughed. “1020 E Franklin. Please hurry!”

  “I’ve dispatched an ambulance and firetruck to your location. Can you stay on the line for me, miss?”

  “I — I don’t know,” I said. My limbs had started to go numb and I struggled to draw breath into my already smoky lungs. The entire bakery was covered in a grey haze. I couldn’t get clean air; I couldn’t see. I grasped the doorjamb and glared at the front door. I should get out. Fresh air. Yes. There was no fire out there.

  I took a step towards the door.

  Codsworth!

  I couldn’t leave him behind; he was family. I turned and stumbled back into the kitchen as sweat erupted from my skin, then evaporated immediately in the oppressive heat. I held my hand up to shield my eyes, but it was no use. I rubbed at them, stumbling away from the flaming kitchen, in the direction of the stairs at the back.

  My knee struck something hard and pain lanced through my leg as I fell to the floor. There the smoke was thinner, but the heat felt almost worse. My lungs screamed for oxygen and I could do nothing but inhale. More smoke. More fire. More everything.

  “Codsworth!” I cried out, crawling to the steps.

  Just before I reached them, the kitchen faded from grey to black.

  Chapter 2

  Blackness and strange noises rang through the gloom. What was this? I floated through it, as though I didn’t have a body, couldn’t feel any sensations. I was pretty sure I’d died, but heaven was black and smoky. Or had I gone to hell?

  Then, there were voices, strange tones which skipped and repeated.

  “Miss?” A gravelly voice, deep and comforting pierced the despotic darkness. “Can you hear me?”

  Strong arms enveloped me, lifting me from the floor. I cracked an eyelid and slammed it shut again immediately. The smoke remained thick and the burning was so bad I couldn’t see through the moisture pooling in my eyes, the flood of tears protecting them. The crackle of fire returned in a rush and my body turned rigid in response.

  “It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he murmured, and folded me closer to his hard chest. Safe. I felt safe in his arms. He took measured steps. “Is there anyone else in here? Anyone who needs help.”

  I shook my head as a bout of coughing took over any ability to speak. Shouts rang out, men rushed by, disturbing the smoke, creating a whirlwind of warm air which brushed the sweaty strands of hair clinging to my forehead. It felt like a film of smoke and perspiration had encased my entire body.

  “Codsworth,” I choked.

  “What?” he asked. He had to be a fireman. Fresh air now. Or, was it him? He had the most amazing smell. I couldn’t open my eyes, could hardly breathe, but the scent of some woodsy cologne — Gucci? — permeated my nostrils through the haze of soot that lingered there.

  “Codsworth,” I repeated. “My cat. He’s upstairs.” I clutched his arm with all my remaining strength. “Please …”

  “Don’t worry,” he replied. “I’ll get him for you.” He quickened his pace and I clung to him with arms like noodles, resting my head against the fire retardant suit. He was as hard as a rock and for some reason, I felt like everything would be okay as he took charge.

  The air grew clearer; there was a rush of wind and sound. Sirens blared, people chattered.

  “Oh my God, can you believe it,” a woman said nearby.

  “It doesn’t look too bad.” That was a man’s voice. Spectators probably, but my eyes were too scratchy to open yet and I didn’t even want to try.

  “Here, take her,” the firefighter carrying me said, his deep voice raspier with the smoke. Then he placed me on a bed, a stretcher. Fingers brushed my ear, and the heat of his breath penetrated. “I’ll come back after I’ve found Codsworth. You’re safe now,” he promised, all calm confidence.

  My skin erupted in tingles as gooseflesh spread across my skin. I forced my eyes open, staring through the blur of tears, but he was already gone.

  “Who—?”

  “You’re fine now, just relax.” A woman in a paramedic outfit appeared beside me and placed an oxygen mask on my face.

  I frowned at her, my eyes had cleared pretty fast, though my chest still felt croaky. My limbs were floppy too. None of it mattered compared to losing the bakery. Or Codsworth.

  I tried to pull the mask off, but she stopped me.

  “No, you rest now. There’ll be enough time for talking later.” The medic lifted a flashlight and checked one eye then the other. “Looks okay there.”

  I let her carry on with her protocol, but I felt stronger by the minute. I’d inhaled a bit of smoke. I’d not been burned to a crisp. The blessed oxygen flooded my lungs, clearing my mind and body. But still, I was exhausted. To the bone.

  I closed my eyes for a second and let a sense of calm wash over me. It was the calm before the storm. This was how I dealt with problems. I let them wait for a moment, lose some steam while I gathered myself. A trick I learned as a child.

  “Miss?”

  I opened my eyes, heart
pounding against my ribcage. Was it him? Was it the firefighter?

  No, it was a cop. I inhaled sharply and glanced past him, searching for Matthew. Thank God, he wasn’t here. Maybe he didn’t have a shift tonight.

  “Miss, can you hear me?”

  “We’re about to take her to the hospital,” the medic reappeared. The name tag on her uniform read Deepa. She placed a hand on my arm. “Can’t you talk to her there?”

  The officer pursed his lips.

  I finally ripped the oxygen mask off and sat up. “I’m fine. I don’t need to go to the hospital.”

  Deepa narrowed her eyes. “You need to get checked out, miss.”

  “My name is Allegra Wilson.”

  “Miss Wilson, do you own this establishment?” The officer asked, whipping out a pen and notepad. There wasn’t a smudge of soot on him.

  “I do,” I replied, swinging my legs over the side of the stretcher and lowering my heels to the ground. I was still a little shaky, but I’d manage. Maybe not. I almost passed out so I sank back down but remained in a sitting position. Much better for my wounded dignity. Tough as nails. I always had been and always would be and a little fire wasn’t going to get the better of me. But where was my knight in shining… flame retardant armor? I wanted to thank him. And see if he found my cat.

  “Good, I just wanted to get your statement on what happened here.”

  “I went upstairs to go to bed, smelled smoke and found the fire burning my bakery down. That about sums it up,” I retorted as I glanced past him. Definitely wasn’t in the mood for officer no-name. What if Codsworth was hurt?

  “Any idea what might’ve started the fire?”

  “Yes, I had a couple second hand electric ovens installed. Maybe something shorted. I don’t know.” I paused and chewed my bottom lip. “Have you seen my cat?”

  “No, Miss Wilson, but I’m sure he’s fine.”

  I looked at the bakery and held my breath. “How bad is it?”