The Monroe Series Complete Trilogy

by Emma Tharp

  “I want to believe you. But how can I trust what you’re telling me?”

  Donovan puts his hand on his heart. “You’re in here. From the day I met you in home economics. And even when you were gone, you were still here. Please, Liza, give me the chance to prove to you I can be the type of man you need me to be. I was good to you in high school and I want to be better for you now.”

  Memories of how truly good Donovan was to me in high school come flooding back. And he helped me grow my business. Maybe he could be the man he wants to be. “Why me, Donovan?”

  “How do you explain the butterflies? The pull between us? I’ve felt it for you since day one. But it’s so much more than that. You’re smart and sweet and we have the best time together. I don’t want to be without you, Liza. Please forgive me. I was a fool.”

  I believe him. Every word. “Donovan. You were a fool, but so was I. All those years ago, when I friend-zoned you. But fate brought us back together again.”

  The corners of his beautiful mouth turn up into a smile. “Does this mean that you forgive me?”

  “Yes.” I throw my arms around him and squeeze him close. The heat of his skin and his scent has my nerve endings coming to life.

  He pulls back and cups my cheeks in his hands. “Liza, thank you. You make me so happy. That’s why I wanted to do something for you.”

  “You don’t have to do anything for me.”

  “I wanted to. I’ve enrolled you in the NY Culinary Institute. There’s a night class series that starts in three months. Spencer and I talked about it and we can hire a part-time assistant to help you out and you can gain the skills you want to. It’ll only help your business in the long run.”

  “You did all of this before I even told you that I forgive you?”

  He nods, and kisses me. “I hoped you’d say you would. But that’s not all. I booked flights to Paris to visit the original Le Cordon Bleu. I set up a tour also. I made sure your schedule was clear for a week and booked it for then.”

  Jumping out of my seat, I sit on his lap and smother him with kisses. “I can’t believe you, Donovan. I spent the last few weeks thinking you’re a jerk, yet here you are wowing me over and over again. Thank you for everything.”

  “You’re welcome. All I want is to make you happy.” He nips at my neck and my body heats up.

  “You do make me happy. And you didn’t need to send me to cooking school or Paris to do that, although both sound amazing. Are you coming to Paris with me?”

  “If you want me to.”

  “I do. I want you to be there with me. I like being with you and sharing my successes with you.”

  He lifts me off his lap and carries me to the bedroom and sets me gently on the bed. “Good, because I don’t want to miss a thing.”

  Epilogue

  Giselle

  “I can’t stay. I have loose ends to clean up at work before I take off to be with Dean,” I tell Donovan as I finish packing my bag.

  “So you flew in for two days? That’s all?” His eyebrows squish together and he looks positively baffled.

  That’s exactly what I did. I flew to Monroe Cay for Garrett and Camille’s wedding yesterday, and I’m leaving today. It was a beautiful affair and Garrett spared no expense to make the day perfect. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, but now that it’s over, I have to leave. “I would’ve loved to stay longer, but I’ve had my annual trip planned for the last ten months. Garrett told me about the wedding six months ago. I couldn’t change my plans. You know how much my week away means to me.”

  He puts his hands on my shoulders and leans in. “I understand, sis. It’d just be nice to spend more time with you. When we’re all in the city, we barely ever get together. I thought we’d all be able to hang out here for at least a week.”

  It’s sweet that Donovan wants to spend time with me, but I have a feeling if I were staying here, he and his girlfriend, Liza, would be doing a lot more of what they’ve been doing for the last two days. Hanging all over each other, making out, and logging hours upon hours locked away in their bedroom. Which is exactly what they should be doing. And it’s what I’ll be doing as soon as I get to Saratoga with Dean. “Let’s make plans to get together when we’re all back home. I’ll have you over to my place for dinner.”

  “That sounds great.” He peers over his shoulder. “I’ve been thinking about proposing to Liza. I brought the ring with me.”

  I drop the shirt I was folding and stare up at my little brother. I knew he and Liza have been getting more and more serious for the last six months, but I didn’t see this coming. Not from my non-committal brother, Donovan. “No way.”

  He pulls a ring box out of his pocket and hands it to me. I open it and a huge solitaire diamond sparkles in the sunlight. “I plan on doing it one night this week on the beach. I love her, and I’m ready.”

  Wrapping my arms around him, I give him a huge hug. “That’s amazing, Donovan. I’m so happy for you both. Liza is going to love the ring.” I hand the box back to him.

  “I hope so.” He slides the box back into his pocket. “What about you? When are you going to settle down, or at the very least introduce us to Dean?”

  I sigh. We’ve had this conversation before. Donovan used to be on my side. Neither one of us were ever going to settle down. Now that he’s with Liza, he’s changed his tune. He’s the happiest I’ve ever seen him and he bought a ring and is ready to propose. I never thought I’d see the day. But I haven’t changed my mind. “You know where I stand on relationships. I don’t have time to commit to making someone else happy. What Dean and I have is exactly what I need and want.”

  Dean and I met three years ago on a cruise. We had instant chemistry and ended up spending the majority of the week in bed. And we’ve been meeting up for one glorious week every summer since. The rules are simple. We have seven days to love with abandon. Seven days to live without regret. Six nights to spend together. And when the week is over, we go back to our lives. It’s the perfect arrangement.

  “You should have brought Dean to the wedding. We all could have met him.”

  No. Not a good idea. What we have is casual. There’s no need to get families involved. When Dean and I are together, it’s all about us. There’s no time for anything else. “I told you. I made the arrangements and can’t back out of the reservation. I had to pull strings to get in for the Fourth of July week.” It isn’t a lie. And since it was my turn this year to set up our week together, I wanted to make it special.

  “All right, sis. I get it. You want to keep your mystery man all to yourself.”

  Nodding, I close my suitcase and zip it up. “Good luck with the proposal. Send pictures afterward and we’ll book something to celebrate your engagement when we’re all back in the city.”

  “Sounds good.” Donovan plants a kiss on the top of my head and moves to leave my room. “Have a safe flight back, and have fun with Dean.”

  “Thank you, and I will.”

  Flutters of anticipation build in my belly. I’ve barely been able to endure the wait to see Dean again and start our week together. Here on the island, there’s nothing but happy couples everywhere. Normally, that doesn’t bother me, but it’s been too long since I’ve been with a man—one year, to be exact. In a few short days, I’ll be back in his arms.

  I pull my phone out of my purse and type out a quick text to Dean.

  Can’t wait to see you.

  He replies almost instantly.

  The wait is killing me. Three more days, baby.

  A smile spreads across my face as I gather my bags to leave Monroe Cay and head back home to New York. There’s a spring in my step thinking about all the things I have planned for Dean and me. It’s going to be one hell of a week.

  Between Us

  The Monroe Series Book Three

  One

  Giselle

  My hand shakes as I flip through the files on my desk. It could be the three cups of coffee I had this morning, but
the more likely reason is a year’s worth of built-up excitement.

  I nearly jump out of my seat when I hear a knock at the door.

  "What are you still doing here? I thought you were leaving for Lake George today to go meet up with your mystery man." Karen, a friend and coworker, peeks her head around my office door.

  "I am. I had to make one last call on the Silverman case before I leave." This has turned into one ugly divorce. No wonder I’m single. Seeing cases like this day in and day out have made me disenchanted with relationships.

  Karen makes her way into my office, closing the door behind her. "You're such a workaholic. You know I could've done that for you."

  "I know. I can't help myself." She's completely right, but besides being married to my job, I also don't like to delegate. I worked my ass off to prove myself and make partner, and I'm not going to do anything to jeopardize that. Not that I think Karen couldn't have made the simple phone call today. It’s just that I’m organized and methodical. Everyone knows that about me at the firm. Sure, people tend to add to my workload because they know I’m hardworking and dependable, but I don’t mind putting in long hours, especially when I’m working toward a goal.

  Karen comes around and stands opposite me, placing her hands flat on my desk and leaning in. "Please, don't worry about a thing. You know the firm is shutting down next week anyway. You can turn your brain off now."

  That's the reason I chose this week to leave. My shoulders seem to relax, even if it’s barely noticeable. "You're right."

  "Have a great time," Karen says, raising her eyebrows.

  This causes me to blush. "I will." And the butterflies start swarming in my stomach. The image of Dean’s handsome face and gorgeous body is all I can see. It’s as if I can feel his strong hands all over me already. Just thinking about him makes me feel like a giddy schoolgirl, which is ironic because I never was a giddy schoolgirl. “I have to get home and finish packing.”

  On the short ride home from my office, stress starts creeping up the back of my neck. Again. I’m going to give myself a tension headache if I don’t take some ibuprofen soon. I don’t know why I can’t relax and just let everything go. It’s probably because I had to cram in so much work before I flew out for my brother's wedding a few days ago, and now I’m leaving again.

  My flight just got in from Monroe Cay last night. My brother, Garrett, and his fiancée, Camille, had a gorgeous wedding ceremony there. He had the best food and entertainment flown in for the occasion. There were fifty of us there, only close friends and family. It was an intimate affair that I’m pleased I was able to be a part of.

  I loved seeing my brother so happy with his new bride, but it didn’t stir up any desire in me to get married. Not even with my younger brother, Donovan, on my case, asking me when I’m going to settle down. I simply can’t imagine the kind of effort it would take to make a relationship work. It’s exhausting just thinking about it. Not to mention, my career comes first. Always.

  There is a small part of me that’s nervous about seeing Dean again. He has never given me a reason to feel this way. On the contrary, he sends me cards with sweet notes inside for my birthday and random texts from time to time asking how I’m doing or to tell me he misses me. We don’t get into nitty-gritty details about our lives, but I still feel that he cares about me through those small gestures. That’s why I shouldn’t be stressing about seeing him again. Still, a part of me worries that when he sees me for the first time in so long, he won’t feel the same spark that he used to. That somehow through the space and time of a year, the flame died. I breathe in and out over and over again like the meditation DVD taught me. No, I don’t meditate, but I tried it that one time and I remember the importance of deep breathing.

  At least I feel a little better about myself. Slightly. I started going back to the gym—usually twice a week—and I went to the salon to get a long overdue cut and color. When you work sixty-plus hours a week, you put yourself on the back burner.

  Once I get home, I pack all the new lingerie I bought for my trip—strappy bras and barely there negligees. The nerves suddenly melt away, replaced with anticipation. One thing we’ve always had is chemistry in the bedroom. Why would that change now? In fact, I can’t wait to see the look in Dean’s teal eyes when he sees me in my sexy new undergarments. White-hot heat spreads through me thinking about Dean's skilled hands peeling the lace off me. My body yearns for the hard lines of his.

  And it’s not just the physical. I crave our talks and his caring ways. It's been a long year without him—or any man. I’m too busy to entertain the idea of having a real committed relationship. That’s why Dean and I work.

  It was my year to be in charge of arrangements, which means we’ll be staying somewhere nice. Last year, we met up in the destination of Dean's choosing.

  The first night we were there, I found a cockroach when I snuck to the kitchen to grab wine after going to bed. Huge mistake. Two mistakes actually; first was getting out of bed, and second was letting Dean make the plans. This year is going to be absolute perfection.

  My phone rings and I get a stupid grin on my face when I look at the screen and see that it's Dean calling. As soon as I answer, he mentions the trip.

  "You're sure about Lake George?” There's doubt in his voice.

  "Positive. I already rented the place. I thought you'd be happy because it's closer for you than last time I picked," I say. We can both drive there this year.

  We met on a cruise ship one winter. It was instant attraction and chemistry that was off the charts. When I first laid eyes on his tall, toned body, smooth tanned skin, and mesmerizing teal eyes, I was a goner. And when he started talking to me, I knew the attraction was more than physical. He was sweet, thoughtful, and the conversation just flowed. It wasn’t long before I invited him to my room. After nearly a week of no-strings-attached, fiery hot sex, we decided to make this a regular thing. And since I became partner at the law firm, I have more disposable income, but less time. So, I can only give him a week every summer. We settled on the Fourth of July week when the firm shuts down anyway.

  The first year, because I'm in New York City and he's in Vermont, I thought, “let's try Beverly Hills.” I pictured iconic sightseeing tours and the glorious dry heat. I imagined beaches and wine. We would shop Rodeo Drive because it’s been on my bucket list since I saw Pretty Woman the first time. He was unimpressed and the place nearly broke him financially. I had no idea money was an issue before that. We met in the Caribbean; how could I have guessed?

  The next year he chose a motel in Orlando. In July. My hair got huge, and I felt as if I was melting. His solution: stay in bed with the AC on full blast. When he finally let me book us a room at an upscale resort—sans cockroaches—even Dean admitted that the rest of the trip was fabulous.

  “Okay, I’m looking forward to it. Drive safe. I can’t wait to see you, baby,” Dean says.

  My heart skips a beat. I never thought I’d be the type of woman who enjoys pet names like that, but when Dean says it, I find the term endearing. “I will. See you soon.”

  The truth is, as different as we are in every respect, there is one place we are forever compatible: the bedroom. While we are tangled in the sheets in the throes of passion, I can forget he's a ski instructor who makes very little money in the off-season. The thing is, for my purposes, we get no-strings sex, no commitments, no regrets…he's perfect. And from our conversations periodically during the year, I can tell he thinks I am, too.

  Two

  Dean

  I like starting my days at zero dark thirty. A cup of coffee with the paper before I’m off for a run or a spin on my mountain bike—unless it’s winter, then I snowshoe or cross-country ski. It’s how I’m hard-wired. Growing up on a farm in Vermont, we were up doing chores early every day before school. As an adult, I no longer farm, but I still enjoy my time in the morning before the sun comes up.

  Today, I mountain biked for an hour before I finished an odd
job at my neighbor's house thirty minutes ago. They needed their deck stained and I needed the cash for my trip. This year I’m not paying for the accommodations, but gas, meals, and extras add up.

  After a quick shower to remove the mountain cedar deck stain from my body, I pack my suitcase and my car. My heart rate accelerates faster now than it did during all the exercise and work this morning because I'm ready to finally go see my girl.

  The fact that we’ve managed to make this work every year feels like a sign to me. I mean, why else would a woman like Giselle still be single? She has to be holding out for her week of summer romance with me. Since we have an understanding, it doesn't matter what she does when we’re apart, and I know she feels the same way about me. Sure, I date from time to time, but there hasn’t been a woman I’ve met who wakes me up like Giselle. She’s beautiful, classy, thoughtful, and our connection is like no other. The woman’s touch turns me inside out. And through the years, our arrangement hasn't bothered me. I could tell on day one what kind of guy she’s used to; the kind with money who can take her to nice places and buy her expensive jewelry and clothes. I’m the type of man who doesn’t have as much disposable income. I prefer experiences and adventures over material things, so it never mattered.

  I'm used to it, comfortable with it. Money is a sacrifice I'm willing to make to follow my passion—skiing. As soon as the snow flies, I start snow patrol and private lessons for the wealthy tourists. I love my job. Since I was first introduced and started hitting the slopes almost as soon as I could walk, I was hooked. I love the rush of the wind past my face, the swishing sound down the slopes, the feel of snow under my skis. There isn't much I don't like about the sport. Hell, I even love the cold. The brisker the better. It reminds me that I’m alive. I feel the exact same way during my one week every summer with Giselle. She makes me feel alive in a completely different way.