Wish I May (New Hope)

by Lexi Ryan

  Asher grabs something out of his truck and walks it over to Drew. “Here you go, kiddo. How’s that for a consolation prize?”

  Her eyes go wide as she takes the CD from his hands. “Oh. My. God. Is this the new album? It doesn’t even release for months!”

  He grins. “Thanks for being such an awesome fan.”

  “Huh,” Lizzy says. “My mom said she wanted to see me do something responsible with my money. I guess I’m going to have to find something else now.”

  “We could go shoe shopping?” Hanna suggests.

  “That’s a plan,” Lizzy says. “Maggie, can you and your stud give us a ride back to Mom’s?”

  Everyone clears out and the girls head back into the house with their dad, and finally I’m alone with Cally.

  I clear my throat. “I have a bone to pick with you.”

  I spin around at the sound of Will’s voice.

  His eyes blaze, nearly predatory, as he takes three slow steps and closes the space between us. “You tried to get rid of me by pushing me off on some other woman.”

  I hang my head and study my shoes. “I just want you to have the best life possible.”

  “Yeah, but I would have thought you’d do better. Meredith? She’s scheming and manipulative and kind of a bitch.”

  I snap my head up and bite back my smile.

  “I mean, sure, she’s beautiful, and you’re right about me wanting kids. It’s true, I do. And I guess it’s nice that Grandma likes her, though—between you and me—I think me falling in love with troubled girls keeps Grandma’s mind young. You wouldn’t want my grandmother to get senile, would you?”

  “No,” I say, keeping my face somber. “I wouldn’t want that.”

  “And, anyway, Meredith is a blond, and I know that’s a thing for a lot of guys, but I really prefer brunettes.”

  “It’s important to know what you want.”

  He’s so close I can feel his heat and have to fight the urge to wrap myself up in his warmth. “If you wanted to choose the woman for me to spend my life with, you totally missed the boat. I thought you knew me better than that.”

  “My apologies. Maybe I could try again if you gave me a bulleted list.”

  “Hmm…well, I’m not really into girls who will let me own their mind. I’d like a girl who can think for herself.”

  “That’s important.”

  He settles his hands on my hips and lowers his mouth next to my ear. “And I don’t mean to be picky, but she needs to be amazing. You know the type, loves with all of her heart and thinks I’m a sex god.”

  A wicked tendril of electricity zips up my spine. “Hmm, and how would you confirm that?”

  He nips at my earlobe. “Maybe by the way she screams my name when I make her come.”

  I swallow. Hard. “I’m not sure I want to know how other women sound when you make them come.”

  He pulls back and his eyes drop to my mouth. He’s a breath away. I could push up on my toes and taste those lips. “But you asked what I want.”

  “The baby’s really not yours?”

  “I can’t have kids, Cally. The baby’s not mine.” He cups my face in his hand. “So I guess you need to add to that list a woman who could handle life with a man who can’t have children. She’d need to be okay with fertility interventions or adoption.”

  My eyes fill. “I could handle that.”

  “I could also use a decent massage.” He grins and rolls his shoulders back.

  “We might be able to arrange that.”

  “I want you, Cally.” Then his mouth is on mine and his hands are in my hair. This isn’t the gentle, loving kiss of my high school sweetheart. And I don’t kiss him back like an innocent girl with her first love. This is the hard, punishing, demanding kiss of a man who’s finally taking what he wants and the woman who’s giving it to him.

  I open under him and moan into his mouth, clinging to his shirt as I surrender to the kiss—the brush of our tongues, the wicked nipping of his teeth.

  When we finally break the kiss, he leans his forehead against mine and we both struggle to catch our breath. “Now it’s time for you to head back in the house and break the news to your father.”

  “What news?”

  “That his girls won’t all be living with him. That you’re moving in with me. I’m also going to need you to divorce that asshole you’re married to. Call me a caveman if you must, but I don’t share.”

  Six Months Later

  WHEN I get home from the massage studio, the house is dark and empty.

  My phone buzzes in my hand, and I open the text message: Go to the bedroom.

  Biting back a smile, I follow my boyfriend’s command and make my way down the hall. But when I get there, I don’t see William like I expect to. Instead, there’s a formal black gown draped across the bed, a floor-length number with ribbons tied in little bows at the shoulders. It looks vaguely familiar, but I can’t place it.

  I’m not surprised when my phone buzzes again.

  Get dressed. I’ll pick you up in thirty minutes.

  What’s he up to?

  I’m pulling off my clothes when another text message comes through.

  Wear the black silk panties, the ones with the ties at the sides.

  I text back, Care to tell me where you’re taking me?

  And ruin the surprise?

  I shower quickly with the floral body wash that makes him crazy, then I dress carefully. I take special care as I tie the panties at each hip, imaging him untying them later. For my bra, I choose black lace that makes his blue eyes go smoky when he looks at me.

  The dress is a soft flowing material that glides against my skin and makes me feel beautiful.

  I don’t put on much makeup, just a little lip-gloss and some eyeliner and mascara, and I leave my hair down so he can tangle his hands in it when he kisses me.

  I’m just stepping into my shoes when he texts me again. I’m out front when you’re ready.

  A ridiculous case of the nerves has my stomach somersaulting as I walk out the front door.

  William is leaning against a black stretch limo dressed in a tuxedo, legs crossed at the ankle as he waits for me. He holds a single red rose.

  “I thought you said you didn’t want to dress me?”

  His lips turn up in a grin. “I didn’t. Drew pulled that dress out of storage for me.”

  I blink down at the familiar gown and have to shake my head. How had I forgotten my own prom dress? “Where are we going?” I ask again.

  He winks at me and opens the door, taking my hand to help me into the limo. “You’ll know soon enough.”

  When he’s seated next to me, he pours me a glass of champagne, and I have to shake my head in awe. “Am I forgetting some sort of special occasion?”

  He dips his head and presses his lips to mine. “Every day you’re in my life is a special occasion.”

  I take a single sip from my glass before he takes it from my hand and the limo comes to a stop. “Short ride,” I mutter, only a little disappointed that I didn’t have enough time to enjoy it.

  “Don’t pout. The limo’s ours all night.” He winks at me as he helps me out onto the sidewalk. “Later, we’ll let him drive us around while we make out.”

  I frown at the building before me. I’m missing something. “You brought me to New Hope High School?”

  He offers me his arm, and I slide my hand through it and allow him to escort me inside the heavy gymnasium doors. The doors swing closed behind me and I can hardly believe what I’m seeing. The room is dark save for the twinkling white lights draped across the ceiling and a dim light illuminating the dance floor. My best friends are already dancing—Lizzy, Hanna, and Maggie wearing prom dresses, arms draped around their dates.

  I spin around and William pulls me close. “Happy prom night,” he whispers in my ear.

  Wrapping our arms around each other, we start to dance from where we stand. “I thought about taking you to the actual prom,” he sa
ys, his hands cupping my butt. “But then I couldn’t touch you like this. I didn’t want to finally get prom night with my girl and be expected to behave.”

  I grin. “We couldn’t have that.”

  His fingers tie something cool around my wrist.

  “Diamonds?” I shift my hand back and forth, watching them twinkle in the light.

  “Stardust,” he corrects. “I want you to always believe you deserve whatever you can wish for, Cally. As long as you’ll let me, I’ll make your wishes come true.”

  “They already have,” I whisper. “I love you so much, William Bailey. You’re my dream come true, and I’m so grateful I found you again.”

  “Hmm…then do you mind if I borrow them to make a wish of my own?”

  I grin. “What’s that?”

  “I know you’ve already given me more than I should ask for, but I’m one of those spoiled rich kids who thinks he should have everything he wants.”

  “You’re not spoiled. What is it? What do you want?”

  He releases me and draws a box from his pocket. “I wish you would marry me, Cally Fisher.”

  My throat is thick with tears and happiness, but I nod and press my lips to his. “You don’t have to wish for me, William. I’m already yours.”

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  Read other books by me.

  There is a common argument that prostitution is a victimless crime—a transaction between two consenting adults that harms no one. However, in the United States, we’re beginning to take another look at what is truly happening in these so-called “consensual” transactions and, in some cases, reclassify them as human sex trafficking. Authorities have found that very often the prostitutes are coerced into a life they don’t want to be living, manipulated through addiction, poverty, and fear. It is all too easy to dismiss a prostitute’s troubles, to tell ourselves “she made the choice,” but as William tells Cally, a choice made out of fear is no choice at all.

  Gotye, Kimbra—Somebody That I Used to Know

  Kings of Leon—Sex on Fire

  Passenger—Let Her Go

  Ani DiFranco—Sorry I Am

  Miley Cyrus—Wrecking Ball

  Sara Bareilles—Gravity

  The National—Slipped

  Ani DiFranco—Letter to a John

  Kodaline—All I Want

  William Fitzsimmons featuring Rosi Golan—You Still Hurt Me

  Katy Perry—Roar

  One Republic—Counting Stars

  I must thank my husband first. Without him, my books just wouldn’t be possible. Brian, thank you for the time, encouragement, and patience you gave me through this book and all the others. For sending me to the “satellite office” to work when the kids won’t leave me alone, for listening to my endless out-of-context plot concerns, and for proving day after day that happily-ever-after exists outside of my head. I love you and those rotten kids something fierce.

  My friends and family, who celebrate my successes as their own, cheer me on every step of the way, and pimp my books out to every literate adult they meet. I am humbled by your enthusiasm and grateful to have built a life surrounded by such amazing people.

  To everyone who provided me feedback on and cheers for William and Cally’s story along the way—especially Adrienne Hogan, Marilyn Brant, Violet Duke, Megan Mulry, Annie Swanberg, and Lauren Blakely—you’re all awesome and I’m lucky to call you my friends.

  Thank you to the team that helped me package this book and promote it. Sarah Hansen at Okay Creations designed my beautiful cover, and if I have my way she will do many, many more for me. Rhonda Helms, thank you for the insightful line edits, and Sara Biren at Stubby Pencil Editing for proof reading. A massive shout-out to Jessica Estep of Ink Slinger PR for your amazing and tireless work to promote me and my books, and to all of the bloggers and reviewers who help her do it. Amazing. Every one of you.

  To my agent, Dan Mandel for getting my books into the hands of readers all over the world—you’re making my dreams come true.

  To all my writer friends on Twitter, Facebook, and my various writer loops, thank you for your support and inspiration. I must say, ours is the coolest water cooler in all of the workforce.

  And last but certainly not least, thank you to my fans. To those who read Unbreak Me and sent me notes begging for William to get his happily-ever-after, knowing you wanted to read his story as much as I wanted to write it was a thrill. I appreciate each and every one of my readers. I couldn’t do this without you and wouldn’t want to. Thank you for buying my books and telling your friends about them. Thank you for asking me to write more. You’re the best!

  ~Lexi

  Excerpts from Marilyn Brant and Jen McLaughlin

  Dear Readers: One of the few activities I love as much as writing is reading. On the following pages, you will find the description of and excerpts from two books I loved: Marilyn Brant’s The Road to You and Jen McLaughlin’s Out of Line, both available now. Enjoy!

  About the The Road to You

  Sometimes the only road to the truth...is one you’ve never taken.

  Until I found Gideon’s journal in the tool shed—locked in the cedar box where I’d once hidden my old diary—I’d been led to believe my brother was dead. But the contents of his journal changed all that.

  The Road to Discovery...

  Two years ago, Aurora Gray’s world turned upside down when her big brother Gideon and his best friend Jeremy disappeared. Now, during the summer of her 18th birthday, she unexpectedly finds her brother’s journal and sees that it’s been written in again. Recently. By him.

  The Road to Danger...

  There are secret messages coded within the journal’s pages. Aurora, who’s unusually perceptive and a natural puzzle solver, is hell bent on following where they lead, no matter what the cost. She confides in the only person she feels can help her interpret the clues: Donovan McCafferty, Jeremy’s older brother and a guy she’s always been drawn to—even against her better judgment.

  The Road to You...

  Reluctantly, Donovan agrees to go with her and, together, they set out on a road trip of discovery and danger, hoping to find their lost brothers and the answers to questions they’ve never dared to ask aloud.

  In that expectant space between silence and melody, our trip began...

  Excerpt of The Road to You © Marilyn Brant

  I could count on one hand the things I knew were true about Donovan McCafferty:

  He was twenty-three—just over five years older than I was.

  He’d escaped into the Army at age eighteen and, except for a few quick but memorable visits, hadn’t returned to Minnesota until this past winter.

  He had an excellent mechanical mind.

  And he made me very nervous.

  Underneath my skin, every nerve fiber was fast twitching. Just thinking about Donovan always did that to me...

  It was 7:05 p.m. by the time I got to the auto-body shop where he worked. They closed at seven, but the light in the back was on and I knew he was in there. Not because I’d caught even one glimpse of Mr. Tall, Dark and Intense yet, but because the only other car in the lot was a crimson Trans Am with the giant Firebird decal in black and gold across the hood. His, of course.

  I pushed open my car door, grabbed my tote bag with Gideon’s journal tucked safely inside and inhaled several lungfuls of the cloying summer air.

  I didn’t make it more than five steps before Donovan came out. A solid, broad-shouldered, six-foot-two mass of frequently impenetrable emotions. Not impenetrable enough this time, though.

  Even at a distance of half a parking lot, I detected two powerful sensations that crashed, one after the other, into my awareness:

  One, he was hugely curious about why I was here.

  And, two, he very much wished I hadn’t been.

  He walked up to me and cleared his throat. “Car troub
le, Aurora?” He glanced at my hand-me-down Buick, which had done nothing but purr contentedly during my drives around town. Donovan was the type to have noticed this, so I could tell he knew it wasn’t the car.

  I shook my head. “I need to show you something,” I told him. “Privately.”

  A small flash of amusement quirked one corner of his mouth upward. I was surprised he allowed me to read this, especially since he knew I could. Surprised he was letting me see that one of his possible explanations for my presence was flirtatious in origin—even as he immediately dismissed the idea.

  I rolled my eyes. “It’s not like that.”

  He pressed his lips together, but the amusement still simmered just beneath the surface. “Too bad. ‘We’re both young and inconspicuous,’” he said, parroting the hideously embarrassing words I’d said to him two years ago at our brothers’ secret high-school graduation party..

  I fought a blush. “We’re not that young,” I told him, trying to stand straighter and look older. “And we’re not inconspicuous here.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.” He turned and motioned for me to follow him inside. Led me into the back office and ushered me in. “You want me to close this door, too? Snap the blinds shut?”

  He was mocking me, but there was a layer of concern beneath it. He knew something serious was up. In a town of 2,485 people, where you’d run into the majority of the residents a handful of times each week, I’d spoken with Donovan McCafferty in private exactly six times in the past five years.

  Here’s to lucky number seven.

  ***Coming October 2013!***

  About Out of Line

  Desperate to break free…

  I’ve spent my entire life under my father’s thumb, but now I’m finally free to make my own choices. When my roommate dragged me to my first college party, I met Finn Coram and my life turned inside out. He knows how to break the rules and is everything I never knew I wanted. A Marine by day and surfer by night, he pushes me away even as our attraction brings us closer. Now I am finally free to do whatever I want. I know what I want. I choose Finn.