Undeniably His

by Emery Jacobs

  Undeniably His

  Emery Jacobs

  Contents

  Untitled

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Untitled

  Untitled

  DISCLAIMER:

  Prologue

  1. Emmie

  2. Emmie

  3. Beau

  4. Emmie

  5. Emmie

  6. Beau

  7. Emmie

  8. Emmie

  9. Beau

  10. Beau

  11. Emmie

  12. Beau

  13. Beau

  14. Emmie

  15. Beau

  16. Emmie

  17. Beau

  18. Emmie

  19. Beau

  20. Emmie

  21. Beau

  22. Emmie

  23. Beau

  24. Emmie

  25. Emmie

  26. Beau

  27. Emmie

  28. Beau

  29. Emmie

  30. Beau

  31. Emmie

  32. Beau

  33. Emmie

  Epilogue

  A Note From the Author

  Books by Emery Jacobs

  Connect with Emery Jacobs

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Undeniably His

  A Novel

  By

  Emery Jacobs

  Copyright © 2018 by Emery Jacobs

  All rights reserved. This book is an original work of fiction. All of the names, characters, sponsors, and events are a product of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. Any similarities to actual events, incidences, persons, deceased or living is strictly coincidental. Any opinions expressed in the book or solely those of the authors. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

  Undeniably His Copyright © 2018 by Emery Jacobs ISBN-13: 978-0-9974115-6-0 (E-book) and ISBN: 978-0-9974115-7-7 (Printed)

  Published in the United States of America

  E-books are non-transferable. They cannot be sold, shared, or given away. The unauthorized reproduction of distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to or downloaded from file sharing sites, or distributed in any other way via the internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher/author’s permission. This book may not be sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase another copy for each person. Criminal copyright infringement including infringement without monetary gain is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without permission of Emery Jacobs.

  Edited by: Kayla Robichaux and Randie Creamer/Hot Tree Editing, Caitlin/Editing by C. Marie

  Proofread by: Julie Deaton/Author Services by Julie Deaton, Kristi Falteisek, and Lexi/Book Reviews by Lexi Proofreading

  Formatted by: Mesquite Business Services

  Photo by: Wander Aguiar

  Cover Design by: Amy Queau/QDesigns

  Cover Model: Jase Dean

  For my Dad—I miss you every single day.

  To Emmie from Beau…

  When I saw you, I was afraid to meet you. When I met you, I was afraid to kiss you. When I kissed you, I was afraid to love you. Now that I love you, I'm afraid to lose you.

  ~Rene Yasenek

  To Beau from Emmie…

  Within you, I lost myself. Without you, I found myself wanting to be lost again.

  ~Anonymous

  DISCLAIMER:

  Due to sexual situations and explicit language, this book is intended for adults 18 years and older.

  Most of the places, locations, and towns in this book are fictitious. They were created to benefit the storyline.

  Prologue

  EMMIE

  ONE YEAR EARLIER

  “She’s pregnant.” Max’s voice echoes from somewhere behind me.

  I stir my coffee a couple more times to prolong the inevitable—the inevitable being turning to face my husband so he can fill me in on how happy his sister is to be expecting her second child. At least, I assume he’s talking about Lindy. She and her husband, Hank, have been trying for baby number two for a few months now.

  I shake my head and draw in a deep breath. I want to be happy for her, for them, but I can’t, because there’s this evil green-eyed bitch lurking around someplace in my mind who won’t let me. Envy keeps me in check, reminds me of all the years I’ve failed at giving my husband the family he so desperately wants.

  With my coffee in hand and a fake smile plastered on my face, I turn and look at Max.

  “That’s great. I know Lindy must be…” My words fade as I take in the man standing in front of me: messy blond hair with a narrow face that was once full, deep blue eyes devoid of emotion, once-olive skin that now appears pale. My gaze immediately falls to the suitcase next to him. “I thought you were going to be home for a few weeks.” I nod toward his luggage.

  Max is a senior marketing consultant for Richards, Wright, and Watkins, LLC, a management and marketing firm based in the Dallas area, but he travels at least two weeks out of the month. So, seeing him with luggage is not a surprise, except for the fact that before he left for his last project two weeks ago, he told me he’d be home for a while once he returned.

  “I am, but I’m not. I mean, shit, Emmie… this is so much harder than I thought it would be.” Max takes a few steps in my direction before continuing. “It’s not work.”

  He rubs his jaw a couple times before running his hand through his shaggy hair.

  “What do you mean, it’s not work? Where are you going?” I squeeze my coffee cup tighter and lean on the counter.

  “It’s not Lindy. She’s not pregnant.” There’s an unfamiliar shakiness to his voice.

  “Okay, it’s not Lindy. Then who is it? Who’s having a baby?” My blood goes cold as I sense what he’s about to tell me is something terrible, and to make matters worse, he’s all over the place with his words, because he’s avoiding the truth. I’m sure that truth has been staring me in the face for months, but he’s kept it hidden with lies. That’s what Max does; he manipulates me with lies, and my naïve heart always forgives him—always.

  “I don’t want to hurt you… again. You don’t deserve this, but it’s too late. I can’t change what’s already done.” He inhales deeply and drops his eyes to the floor.

  “Just tell me, Max. Tell me what’s going on.” I set my coffee on the counter then inch closer to him. My hands tremble as I cup his face. He immediately lifts his gaze and it meets mine, his blue eyes swirling with regret. There is no doubt in my mind that what he’s about to say will shatter my heart into a million pieces. My gut clenches as a wave of nausea moves through me.

  “It’s Natalie. She’s pregnant,” he whispers so softly I barely hear him.

  “Natalie?” My breath catches as reality punches me in the chest. Max had an affair a little over a year ago with a woman named Natalie Griffin. He met her on a business trip, but ended it after I found out. He loves me—said it was the biggest mistake of his life. He begged and pleaded until I forgave him, and I did. I fucking forgave him. His skin is suddenly hot on my hands, burning my flesh as though it’s on fire. I immediately release my hold on him and step back.

  “Wait, Emmie—let me finish.” He reaches for me, but I move quickly, a
voiding his grasp.

  “No. No…” I shake my head. “This isn’t happening. Tell me you didn’t do this to me!” I scream. “You said it was over with her. You promised you’d never see her again.” I turn away from him as the tears roll down my cheeks.

  “I’m so fucking sorry, Emmie. I know this seems like a slap in the face, but you have to believe—”

  And there it is. Yes, you asshole, it is a slap in the face, because some random woman I don’t know is giving my husband a family. I guess after three pregnancies ending in miscarriages, he’s telling me my time for trying is up. He’s moved on so he can finally get what he wants. Selfish bastard.

  “Believe what, Max?” My body trembles as I try to catch my breath. “Believe you didn’t continue to see her after you told me you ended the affair? Believe you didn’t have unprotected sex with someone other than your wife? What exactly is it that you want me to believe?”

  “This doesn’t change the way I feel about you. I still—”

  “Don’t you dare finish that sentence!” I bellow as I spin around to face him. “You have lost the right to feel anything for me.”

  He lowers his gaze to the floor as he moves toward his suitcase. He’s really going to leave me. He’s leaving me for her. Do I want him to stay? No. Could I live day in and day out in a marriage with a man who had a child with someone else while we were married? No. I could never forgive him for this—never. After ten years of marriage, it ends because of a baby, his child with someone else… the one thing I can’t give him. God, this hurts so fucking bad.

  “I filed for divorce yesterday. I don’t want anything other than my clothes and personal belongings. Everything else is yours.” He grabs his suitcase as he walks away from me, away from the life we’ve built together, and away from the promises of forever.

  1

  Emmie

  Present day

  “Oh my God! You really did it!” Ava shrieks.

  I quickly scan the room, hoping—no, praying—the bar is still empty. Thankfully, it is. Well, almost.

  “Did what? And why don’t I know about it?” Jane asks as she pulls out the chair next to me and sits down.

  “Tell her, Emmie—or would you rather me let her in on your little secret?” Ava’s eyes sparkle with excitement.

  Ava is my best friend and business partner; we co-own Weddings by Emmie Carmichael. When Max and I got married at eighteen, I begged him to let me keep my maiden name—Carmichael. He put up a fight at first, but eventually gave in. There were a couple of reasons I didn’t want to change my name to Wilson—Max’s name—the most important being I was afraid if I did I’d lose my identity. The second reason was that my dream was to one day open Weddings by Emmie Carmichael. My company was born about six years ago after graduating from The Art Institute of Dallas, and a year into my little endeavor, I realized if I wanted my dream of planning weddings to grow, I couldn’t do it alone. That’s when Ava joined me, and shortly after that, Jane came on part-time. My two closest friends and my business—these are the things that have kept me sane over the last year while my life was falling apart.

  “Do tell,” Jane says as a small smile pulls at her lips.

  My pulse picks up slightly at the thought of possible happiness. It’s taken so long to let go of the guilt and resentment of my previous life and look forward to something good.

  I shift my gaze toward Jane. “Remember when Ava told us about the dating website? The one that matches you according to your profession?”

  “Hmmm… I vaguely remember that conversation, but it doesn’t matter. Please tell me you met a guy and had the best sex of your life, because trust me, that’s what you need—”

  “A great guy is what I need,” I cut her off.

  It’s only a second before she retorts, “No, you need a good fuck. You definitely need a good, hard fuck, and then maybe you wouldn’t be so uptight all the time.” She crinkles her nose and looks over at Ava. “Don’t you agree?”

  My gaze shifts to Ava as she opens her mouth to speak, but I don’t give her a chance.

  “Don’t,” I blurt out. She covers her mouth and shrugs slightly as I rest my elbows on the table and lean in a bit. “Do not even think about answering that question.” I suck in a deep breath then cut my eyes to Jane. “I’m not uptight… at least not all the time. If I’ve been so difficult to be around, why haven’t you said anything? I thought you two were my friends.”

  “We are your friends, and we’ve been concerned about you for months but haven’t said anything, because we don’t want to upset you,” Ava says before placing her hand over mine. She gives it a gentle squeeze, and then continues, “We love you, but you spend most of your time at work, planning everybody else’s happiness. The only time you do anything remotely fun is when you hang out with us on Friday afternoons, so that’s why I suggested the dating website. I honestly didn’t think you would consider it, but I’m excited that you did. Now finish your story.” Ava smiles, sits up straight in her chair, and then removes her hand from mine.

  “Yeah, finish it,” Jane demands as she motions for the waitress.

  They’re right, about everything. I need someone in my life, even if it’s only for sex. Of course, I would never say that out loud, because I’ve never had that type of relationship. Being married to Max is all I’ve ever known, but now that my marriage is over, I have to move on.

  “I decided a year was entirely too long for me to still be sulking about something that’s completely out of my control, so I took a huge step and joined the dating site you told me about.”

  “ThePerfectMatch.com,” Ava chimes in.

  “Yes, that one. Their goal is to match you with someone who has the same interests as you, but also has a similar profession. I had a few contacts the first week and I was super excited,” I say as both sets of eyes flicker with happiness.

  “Yay! Keep going,” Ava adds, silently clapping her hands and bouncing in her chair.

  “Hang on a sec,” Jane mumbles while looking over her shoulder. “Where’s the damn waitress? I’ve been here for almost ten minutes and even made eye contact with her, and she has yet to make her way to our table.”

  “Oh, I see the problem.” Ava turns her head slightly and her gaze focuses on something behind me.

  “Yes, definitely a problem,” Jane agrees as she peers over her shoulder.

  “What is it?” I start to turn around in my chair.

  “Don’t!” Jane exclaims. “It’ll be too obvious if we’re all gawking.”

  “I’m not gawking, just observing,” Ava spits back.

  “Gawking, observing, drooling—it’s all the same,” Jane explains.

  “What is it? What’s so important that it’s keeping our waitress away?” I question.

  “It’s really just sad,” Ava asserts before stretching her neck a little more to the right to get a better look.

  “Yeah, most definitely sad.” Jane laughs before she brings her attention back to me.

  “Ummm… I’m still here, guys. It’s like you two are having a conversation without me,” I huff. I sit up straight and fold my arms across my chest. “Now fill me in on what’s going on behind me, so I can finish my story about Andrew.”

  “Andrew—I like him already.” Jane raises an eyebrow as she leans back in her chair.

  “It’s really nothing important,” Ava sighs, still directing her attention to whatever is going on behind me.

  “For fuck’s sake, Ava, stop teasing the poor girl.” Jane tucks a strand of red hair behind her ear and shifts slightly to the right. Her eyes brighten, as she continues, “There’s a definite ten sitting four tables back. He looks to be out of his element, mostly because he’s a beer guy in a wine bar. But that doesn’t matter, because he’s sexy as sin.” Her eyes dart over toward his table and then back at me. “And Little Miss Chatterbox, who I assume is our waitress, can’t stop pawing him long enough to remember your empty glass and my nonexistent one.” Jane grabs a nap
kin from the table and fans herself briefly.

  “What does he look like? And how do you know he’s a beer guy? I know lots of men who drink wine.” Part of me wants to turn around and check him out, but I’m kind of enjoying seeing him through their eyes.

  “He’s kind of rough around the edges, wearing a leather jacket, old jeans, and boots. He just has that come home from work and grab a beer look. Oh, and the best part about him is his scruffy face—you know, like he needs to shave,” Ava explains before bringing her focus back to the group.

  “God, I wish Tristan wouldn’t shave for a few days. After seeing this guy, I’m all about some scruff.” Jane giggles.

  Tristan is Jane’s husband of three years. He’s an IT guy with the perfect job—at least I think so. He’s in business for himself and is contracted with dozens of companies all over the world, and the best part is he can work from home or basically anywhere with Internet access. Thus, he and Jane can travel and are free to do whatever they want. Jane is one of my dearest friends, and it makes me happy to see her so in love.

  “Yeah, like that’ll ever happen,” Ava tells her.

  “A girl can dream,” Jane says before sneaking one more peek at the guy behind us.

  “If he’s that dreamy, maybe I should look. After all, I am the only single one at the table.”

  “You wouldn’t be interested. He’s not your type,” Ava says.

  I lean a little farther forward and rest my arms on the table. “What do you mean ‘not my type’? I didn’t realize I have a type.”

  “Like I said, he’s rough around the edges, doesn’t shave often, not blond, probably drives a truck—you know, one of those big ones where you need a stepladder just to crawl into the front seat—and he definitely doesn’t earn six figures.” Ava laughs, a soft snort escaping her nose.