Taxi (Take It Off #11)

by Cambria Hebert

  Rose and Rocco were close, though, so close sometimes it made me jealous. She thought it was cute.

  I didn’t.

  Holy fuck, did I love her.

  I loved her more than I ever thought I could love anyone. It was a different kind of love than I felt for Rocco. This was all consuming. It was chest tightening, it was the strongest kind of bond I’d ever known.

  I glanced down at the black velvet box resting open in the palm of my hand. A square diamond sparkled up at me, the rays of the sun reflecting its brilliance. The ring was mounted on a thin silver band, the square center stone two carats, and it was outlined in small red rubies.

  I had to get the red in there. ‘Cause you know, her hair.

  And because of the fire she ignited inside me, the heat that always burned between us when we touched. Turns out (frankly, I never doubted it, but I was pretty sure Rose had) the intensity between us wasn’t just a product of how we were brought together.

  Two years later, she still melted when I stroked her skin, and my dick still throbbed with just a single look or thought.

  Beyond the physical, Rose was my best friend.

  We were meant to be. Plain and simple. She didn’t mind my hours. In fact, she worked just as hard as I did, if not harder. She even learned to live with my snoring, and I still teased her she farted in her sleep.

  (She really didn’t.)

  I was going to marry her. She was going to say yes. I was going to spend the rest of my life loving her and the kids she was going to give me.

  FYI, she had no complications living with just one kidney. I’d performed both surgeries myself, and I’d monitored her recovery with such care she told me I was worse than a hovering grandma. Was that supposed to be an insult? I liked grandmas.

  After my morning rounds, I left work early. I didn’t do it often, but more than I did before Rose. Turns out I wasn’t as much of a workaholic when I knew I had someone I truly loved waiting for me at home.

  I dressed in a pair of loose jeans and a T-shirt with the green logo for Curbside Coffee on it and headed outside. It was a typical summer day here in North Carolina. Hot and humid with a bright blue sky.

  There was a breeze today, something that made the usually stifling heat just a little more bearable. It pulled through my hair as I walked along the sidewalk, peering through the sunglasses wrapped around my eyes, toward the light-green coffee truck parked a short distance away.

  There was a line in front of it, and as I moved closer, the breeze carried the sound of her laughter to my ears.

  I loved that sound. It was the sound of my entire life.

  The minty-green Vanagon was parked where it always was, shiny without a speck of dirt on it. The vehicle had been modified, of course, which made it only more of a reflection of my (hopefully) bride-to-be.

  The roof had been extended so it rose higher than the roof above the driver’s head. It sort of looked like a little pop-up that always stayed up. The sides of the extension were also painted the minty green, and the new roof was shiny white. It extended out into an awning that stretched over the open bar beneath it.

  The entire side of the Vanagon opened to reveal the small café. It was simple, just like Rose, but it was neat and professional, too. The inside was decorated with a richly stained paneling. The back wall was all chalkboard where Rose would write the featured drinks and specials. Above that was the regular menu in bold letters that were easy to read. The back counter stretched the whole length of the interior and held a small sink, espresso machines, and coffee makers all in stainless steel.

  White paper cups with Curbside Coffee written on them in a unique font were in dispensers, and rows of flavoring and unique toppings took up the rest of the space. The back end of the vehicle was one large window, but it opened like a door.

  Under the awning was the counter where people ordered. It was a plain butcher block with all the usual coffee necessities. Over the heads of the customers were strung-up blubs that lit when the days were cloudy and dim.

  Rose was always standing behind the counter in her jeans and Curbside Coffee T-shirts with her hair pulled up off her face.

  The fact that she loved this place made me love her more.

  I got in line behind the customers. She’d yet to see me because she was so engrossed in what she was doing.

  Plus, she had no idea I’d taken a half a day. She had no idea I had a ring in my hand.

  We’d taken our time with our relationship (not the sex, though; I wasn’t about to keep my hands off her sexy ass). I wanted to make sure it was absolutely right. I wanted there to be no question in my fairy’s mind about why we were together.

  Two years was long enough. I wanted to see my ring on her finger.

  Her back was turned when I stepped up to the counter. “Be right with you!” she chirped, rinsing out something in the sink.

  “I’ll have my usual,” I said.

  Her head whipped around; a smile lit up her face.

  “Hey, you!” She turned. “What are you doing here?”

  “Took the day off. Missed my girl.”

  She shoved away from the sink and came forward, practically diving across the counter, sliding right up to my face. “Kiss me!” she demanded.

  Our lips met and parted, my tongue slipping deep into her mouth and stroking against hers. She smelled and tasted like coffee.

  I loved coffee.

  When I lifted my head, she smiled. “Still want that coffee?”

  “What do you think?” I asked.

  “Coming right up!” She leapt and turned around to her supplies.

  “So,” she called behind her as she moved around. “What do you think? I could close up early. We could go grab some lunch, maybe drive to the beach…”

  I set the open velvet box on the counter, facing her.

  Her words fell away when she turned.

  The green eyes I loved so much rounded and nearly fell out of her head.

  Around the coffee she’d just made, her knuckles turned white.

  “I was thinking maybe you’d marry me?” I said, my focus fully on her.

  “Derek.” My name sounded sort of like a prayer when she said it.

  “I can’t live without you, fairy,” I said, pushing the ring across the counter just a little closer to her. “I want the rest of our lives.”

  “You want to marry me?” she asked like she couldn’t quite catch up.

  “I’ve never wanted anything more,” I answered.

  She stared at the ring, her eyes glittering.

  “You gonna put me out of my misery, here?” I asked, nerves coiling in my stomach, I just wanted to hear one word.

  That’s all I needed, just one three-letter word.

  She made a sound and set the coffee behind her. Rushing forward, she climbed over the counter and leapt down into my arms.

  Her legs wrapped around my waist, and her fingers delved into the short strands of hair at the back of my neck.

  “Yes,” she said. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you.”

  People around us clapped and cheered. We’d drawn an audience, but neither of us cared.

  I kissed her again. My world never felt more whole.

  I pulled back. “Wait a minute.”

  I set her on her feet and snatched the ring off the counter.

  She held out her hand.

  I slid the diamond past her knuckle, exactly where it belonged. “I hope you like it,” I murmured, lifting her hand to kiss the stone where it now lived.

  There. Now I was whole.

  “I love it.” Her words were watery, just like her eyes. Rose pulled her hand back and looked down, turning her hand this way and that. “It’s stunning.”

  “I just want you to know…” I began. “I’m not waiting two more years to get you down the aisle. This is gonna be a quickie engagement.”

  She laughed. “Sounds good to me.”

  “I love you, fairy.” I caressed her cheek. “So much.”r />
  “I love you, too.” She smiled, stepping into my arms.

  * * *

  We got married two weeks later on the beach.

  Rocco was my best man.

  Rose not only saved his life, but mine as well.

  Being a doctor would never give me a God complex.

  But living with an angel might.

  Author’s Note

  It feels entirely weird to be back here at the end of another Take It Off novel. It’s almost, in a sense, like stepping back in time. I have to admit I struggled a bit when writing this. I kept looking around on every page for Romeo or Trent. Or any of my #Hashtag family. I think I suffered from a hangover like you readers sometimes do, except mine was from writing and not reading.

  In other words, moving to a book that didn’t contain any of the characters I’ve spent the last year and half with has been very difficult. More so than I thought it would be. In fact, I really wanted to write this book. If you really know me, you know I have an overactive mind (shocker, I know), and I pretty much look at every situation I’m in as a potential kidnapping or hostage situation.

  I mean, really, though. I can’t be the only person who stares at everyone in a movie theater before the movie starts, trying to decide if they’re suspicious and what type of plan I would use if I needed to escape… right?

  In the past year and a half, I’ve traveled to a lot of book signings and events. It’s at these events I’m often in need of a cab. You see where this is going, don’t you?

  Well, it was in the backs of these cabs that I realized just how precarious riding in one is. I could be taken anywhere. The driver is a complete stranger. In fact, I’ve often said the words while I’m traveling, “If I don’t call, my taxi driver kidnapped me.”

  So basically, this book is born out of my own twisted nightmares (just like TEXT was, lol). With some romance sprinkled in, of course. We all love romance.

  And hot doctors.

  Anyway, so I’ve been thinking of this book for a long time. It’s always been on the backburner. So when I finished up #Rev (GearShark #2) I decided before moving on to Lorhaven’s book, I would write Taxi. Over the past year, I’ve had some requests (even some rather rude demands) for more Take It Off books. I know I put a blurb for Trace in the back of Trashy, so I’m sure many of you saw this book and wondered what the hell I was thinking.

  I was thinking I might get kidnapped. By a weirdo in a taxi. Totally legit.

  Anyway, this idea was in my head, and I wanted to write it. I hope you guys enjoyed it and it brought you back to the Take It Off days. LOL. This book is like a giant #TBT (throwback Thursday)… See… I’m obsessed with hashtags. I can’t stop… #itsasickness.

  That being said, as much as I wanted to write it, the entire time, I kept thinking people might be disappointed this isn’t Lorhaven’s book (It’s coming. I promise.) or a Hashtag book. (I get emails for that daily. Daily.)

  But I also really wanted to maybe take a brain break, dive into something fun and dare I say “less exhausting.”

  Turns out that was dumb. Hahahaha.

  This book was exhausting to write as well because I kept pining away for my #Hashtag boys. (Sickness, I tell you. I may need therapy.)

  Also, in 100% honesty, I’m worried this book sucks. I can say it. It’s okay. An author is their own worst critic, right?

  Well, maybe not. I’ve read some reviews… *shudders*

  Anywho, I know I’ve written ten of these (this is number eleven!), but that was a long time ago. Eons it feels like. And to be honest, I feel I’m a different writer than I was in a lot of ways. So it was a little difficult to try and keep the tone, etc. similar to the other books in the series.

  And please realize this is fiction… even though black market organs are a very real and scary thing. I’ve Googled. I’ve seen… *shudders*

  I’ve said to my husband on numerous occasions, “I need to slap a warning label on this book that reads: CAUTION: No Trent and Drew.”

  All my GearShark readers are totally gonna know what I mean.

  That being said, I think Rose and Derek are awesome in their own right. This story is intriguing in the sense I think things like this happen more than we realize. Especially in other countries. I think “real” fear is scarier than any kind of made-up fear could ever be. Know what I’m saying?

  So I sincerely hope you enjoyed TAXI. Next up, I’ll be going back to finish the GearShark series… and I have another idea on the backburner for something new.

  Will I ever write another Take It Off novel? I’m not sure. I do have ideas. So we’ll see. Maybe let me know what you think!

  As always, thank you for reading. Thank you for reviewing. And for more of me (cause you know you just want more, haha), sign up for my newsletter (it’s in my bio on the next page or on my website) for book news, giveaways, and more!

  See you next book!

  XOXO––Cambria

  Cambria Hebert is an award winning, bestselling novelist of more than twenty books. She went to college for a bachelor’s degree, couldn’t pick a major, and ended up with a degree in cosmetology. So rest assured her characters will always have good hair.

  Besides writing, Cambria loves a caramel latte, staying up late, sleeping in, and watching movies. She considers math human torture and has an irrational fear of chickens (yes, chickens). You can often find her running on the treadmill (she’d rather be eating a donut), painting her toenails (because she bites her fingernails), or walking her chorkie (the real boss of the house).

  Cambria has written within the young adult and new adult genres, penning many paranormal and contemporary titles. Her favorite genre to read and write is romantic suspense. A few of her most recognized titles are: The Hashtag Series, GearShark Series, Text, Torch, and Tattoo.

  Cambria Hebert owns and operates Cambria Hebert Books, LLC.

  You can find out more about Cambria and her titles by visiting here:

  Website: http://www.cambriahebert.com.

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