by Jessica Wood
Promise to Marry
(Promises, #1)
Jessica Wood
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 by Jessica Wood
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
ERH Press
ISBN-13 978-1-940285-13-9
First Edition: January 2015
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ABOUT Promise to Marry
We were best friends since as early as I could remember. We grew up together. We were next door neighbors. We shared each other's deepest secrets.
When I was thirteen, we made a pact: If we were still single by the time we were 30, we’d marry each other.
Today was my thirtieth birthday.
I was single. I knew he was single too.
But we were no longer best friends, and a part of me knew that he hated me.
Table of Contents
Also by Jessica Wood
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Author’s Note
Other Books
Synopsis & Excerpt from Oblivion
About the Author
ALSO BY JESSICA WOOD
Emma’s Story Series
A Night to Forget – Book One
The Day to Remember – Book Two
Emma’s Story Box Set – Contains Book One & Book Two
The Heartbreaker Series
This is an Emma’s Story spin-off series featuring Damian Castillo, a supporting character in The Day to Remember. This is a standalone series and does not need to be read with Emma’s Story series.
Damian – Book One
The Heartbreaker – Prequel Novella to DAMIAN – can be read before or after Damian.
Taming Damian – Book Two
The Chase Series
This is a standalone series with cameo appearances from Damian Castillo (The Heartbreaker series).
The Chase, Vol. 1
The Chase, Vol. 2
The Chase, Vol. 3
The Chase, Vol. 4
The Chase: The Complete Series Box Set – Contains All Four Volumes
Oblivion
This is a standalone full-length book unrelated to other series by Jessica Wood.
Oblivion
***
Pre-Orders Currently Available
Promise to Keep – February 9, 2015
“Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul - and sings the tunes without the words - and never stops at all.”
Emily Dickinson
PROLOGUE
When we first met twenty-three years ago, I had hated him.
“You look like Pippi Longstocking!” That was the very first thing he’d said to me. He’d flashed me a boyish grin as he pointed to the pigtails my mom had braided for me that morning before I had said goodbye to her.
I’d stuck my tongue out at him in protest as I followed Aunt Betty and Uncle Tom into their house—my new home. I had known instantly that I wouldn’t like this boy. He was mean, he was a bully, and he sure wasn’t going to be any friend of mine.
Well, at least that was what I had thought that day when I moved in with Aunt Betty and her husband. But, like so many other things I’d thought throughout my life, I had been wrong.
Somehow, despite my resistance, he’d chipped away at my stone-cold seven-year-old exterior and won me over within a matter of just a week. I’d discovered that he wasn’t mean after all. He wasn’t a bully, either. In fact, somehow, without even knowing how it’d happened, he had quickly become my friend—and not just any old friend—he had become my best friend. My confidant. My constant. My anchor.
We’d been inseparable as we grew up together, spending hours in his treehouse, talking and laughing until Aunt Betty would call me into the house for bed every night.
And even in one of my darkest hour when I was thirteen—when I felt the most lost and alone, when I purposely drove everyone, including him, away—he had been there, by my side, to comfort me. He had been my rock and had refused to be ignored or pushed away.
That was the day we had made our pact: If we were still single by the time we were thirty, we’d marry each other.
I had known even then just how lucky I had been to have him in my life. I had loved him the way best friends loved each other. But it wasn’t until I had lost him that I had realized just how much I’d love him—how much my love for him went far beyond friendship. It wasn’t until we were no longer friends that I had realized that he had been my one and only love all along.
But by then, it was too late. I had screwed up. I had ruined everything. I had done something that was unforgivable. And a part of me wondered if I had enjoyed it. So how could I possibly ask him to forgive me when I couldn’t forgive myself?
Now, twenty-three years after we’d first met, we were both thirty and single, but I knew that it was he who now hated me.
CHAPTER ONE
Present Day
“Promise?” I looked into his rich, emerald eyes—those eyes that always had a way of making me feel at home.
“Promise.” He beamed at me and squeezed my hands as we secured the love-lock onto the bridge railing and locked it in place.
He pulled me into his arms and whispered in my ear, “You’re my best friend, Clo. You won’t ever have to worry about being alone. I promise that I’ll always be here for you when you need me.”
A splendid mixture of bliss and comfort spread through me like a warm blanket on a cold day as I sank into his inviting embrace. Despite everything that’d happened in my life, I felt hopeful. Because I knew that no matter what the future held for me, Jackson would always be there. And for me, that was enough.
“Here’s to your thirtieth birthday,” he said playfully as he finally pulled away.
“And yours too,” I added.
“Well, not exactly.” He paused and grinned—that same boyish grin from the first day we met, the same boyish grin I’d come to know so well in the past eleven years, the same boyish grin that made my heart soar with happiness.
“What do you mean?” I feigned a frown, knowing too well he was being a smart-ass.
“Well, seeing as I’m eight months older than you, our pact won’t start when I turn thirty.” He chuckled smugly. “So I’m rooting for your thirtieth.”
“Jax.”
The sound of my own voice woke me from my dream. My eyelids felt heavy as I tried to open them and keep them open, battling against the inviting weight of sleep. Finally, I gave in and closed my eyes again, a part of me hoping I’d drift back into that memory from years ago, a memory that seemed as vivid as if it’d happened just yesterday.
But it was too late. The dream was gone. I couldn’t return back to that moment in time—back to that moment with him.
&n
bsp; I opened my eyes, drawing in a long inhale of breath as reality set in. Today was my thirtieth birthday. The big 3-0! I’d always thought that when this day finally came, I’d somehow feel different. I thought that this day would feel meaningful, that somehow a magical switch would turn on inside me and I’d have it all figured it.
I was wrong. I didn’t feel any different this morning than I had the night before. Nothing had changed. I was still working at my boring administrative assistant job at a law firm, living in a tiny studio apartment in a shitty neighborhood in downtown Los Angeles, and getting by, paycheck to paycheck. This wasn’t how I had envisioned my life to be at thirty. Because he isn’t in it, a tiny voice said inside.
Feeling a bit frustrated with myself, I kicked off the comforter and walked to the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face.
“You’re being ridiculous, Chloe,” I said out loud to the reflection that stared back at me from the mirror above the sink. “You’re overreacting. You don’t have a miserable life. In fact, it’s pretty damn good. You just had a weird dream and now you’re being irrationally nostalgic.” I splashed some more water against my face, trying to wake myself up so I could think clearly. Drawing a deep, labored breath, I looked back into the mirror and spoke again, but this time I spoke as if I were trying to persuade someone off a ledge. “That’s all in the past. You can’t change it. You can’t. The only thing you can do is move forward. You have a lot to look forward to.”
I grabbed a towel and patted off the water from my face. “You’re right,” I responded back to my reflection and flashed a resolute smile. “I have so much to be happy about. I’m thirty and I have a wonderful boyfriend who makes me happy and takes care of me.”
Just then, as if in support of my positive thinking, my phone started ringing. It was Carly.
“And I have a new best friend, and here she is now.”
Feeling a lot better than moments ago, I grabbed my phone and answered it.
“Hi, Carly,” I said cheerfully.
Before I could stop here, Carly’s musically-challenged voice came through the phone as she sang me “Happy Birthday” off-key with such confidence, you’d think that was how all people sang the song if you hadn’t known any better.
I burst into a fit of laughter. “Thanks for that. I really needed a good laugh this morning.”
“Hey, everyone loves my incredible off-pitch renditions of songs. I’m simply giving them the Carly-twist.” I could hear the humor in her voice as she pretended to sound serious.
“And I, for one, love the Carly-twist,” I played along.
“Well naturally,” she said sarcastically in her diva voice.
I giggled as I pictured her flipping her long blond waves over her shoulder as she batted her long lashes.
“So how does it feel to be so old?” she teased.
“No different than I felt yesterday. But don’t worry, you’ll find out for yourself in a few short months,” I teased back.
“Touché.” She groaned. “Get those old-lady walkers ready for me.”
I laughed and shook my head. “You’re too much sometimes, Carly.”
“Oh, you love it.”
“Riiight.” I dragged out the word, highlighting the sarcasm in my voice.
“So what do you have planned today? Will I even get to see you?”
“Well, Jeff’s taking me out for dinner and this comedy show tonight.”
“Ohhh, that sounds like fun. So are you going into work today or taking the day off?”
“I’m working today. I want to save my vacation days and can’t afford to take a non-paid day off.”
“Girl, you seriously work too hard. You need to live a little. It’s your thirtieth birthday, and you have a self-employed boyfriend who works from home. What you should be doing today is having lots of obligatory birthday-sex with your hot sex-on-a-stick boyfriend.”
I laughed. “All you think about is sex.”
“True story. It’s the gift that keeps on giving.”
“You’re seriously too much sometimes, Carly.” I giggled.
“Thank you,” she said proudly.
I rolled my eyes. In the past two years I’d known Carly, she’d always been that free-spirited wild child, the type of girl that I’d dreamt about being, but knew I could never emulate even if I’d tried.
“Anyway, babe,” she continued, “I gotta get going now, but I wanted to wish you a happy birthday.”
“Thanks, Carly. Maybe we can grab lunch today near the office?” Carly and I worked only two blocks from one another, so we tried to meet up for lunch at least once a week.
“Yeah, maybe a late lunch? I have a business meeting out of the office this morning, so I probably won’t be back in the office until one.”
“Sure. How about one-thirty, then? And if you’re running late, just let me know.”
“Sounds like a plan. Have a good day at work, babe. See you soon.”
“Thanks, Carly. And don’t worry, I’ll be sure to make time for that birthday sex.”
She laughed. “Get it, girl!” With that, she clicked off.
***
“Thank you, Mr. O’Brien. I’m sorry this was so last minute.”
“Don’t worry about it, Chloe,” my boss reassured. “It’s been a slow week at the office anyway. Have a nice birthday and enjoy the day off.”
A huge smile spread across my face when I got off the phone. After my conversation with Carly a few minutes before, I realized that she was absolutely right. I had to live a little. It was my thirtieth birthday. I had a gorgeous boyfriend who had a flexible schedule. Why shouldn’t I treat myself to a day off work and spend the day having birthday sex?
With a renewed sense of excitement, I’d completely pushed my dream from this morning out of my thoughts as I raced to my closet to find something to wear. I reached for my phone to tell him I was coming over, but before I pulled up his name, I decided that I wanted to surprise him instead.
Surprise sex for him. Birthday sex for me. Win-win. I felt giddy with excitement as I riffled through my clothes. After a few seconds of searching, my fingers stopped dead in their tracks when they found the perfect outfit. A devious smirk curled my lips as I quickly grabbed it from the hanger and got ready.
Thirty minutes later, I was standing outside his apartment in nothing but a sleek black trench coat that came down mid-thigh and a pair of black five-inch fuck-me boots.
I felt sexy, adventurous, and aroused as I knocked on his door, anticipating the things we’d do to each other, the things he’d do to me. Jeff may not have been perfect in many ways, but when it came to sex, he was pretty damn close.
When he didn’t answer the door, I knocked again. Still no response. I leaned my head on the door and could hear what sounded like the TV from the other side. He must be working at his office desk in his bedroom.
Just then I remembered that Jeff had given me a set of his keys for those in-case-of-emergency situations.
Is the need for birthday sex on your big 3-0 considered an emergency? “Close enough,” I decided out loud as I pulled out his keys.
When I walked into the living room, I could hear the muffled sounds of cries and a struggle coming from the TV in the bedroom.
I laughed when I realized what Jeff must be watching and walked through the hallway leading to the bedroom.
“Jeff, are you watching Jerry Springer again? I knew you secretively loved that—” But when I walked into the room, my words got lost in my throat as shock paralyzed me in place at what I saw.
There, on the cream sheepskin area rug I’d gotten him last Christmas, was Jeff, naked and on his knees, pounding himself in and out of some blonde’s ass.
“Chloe!” Jeff called out in alarm. He leaped off the woman, his erection emerging from inside the blonde. It wasn’t until that moment that the woman turned around, causing a sharp gasp to escape my lips.
She wasn’t some random woman. She wasn’t some stranger. She was n
one other than Carly, my best friend.
I felt like the oxygen had been sucked out of the room and replaced with something more dense and threatening. For what seemed like eternity, we just stood there, staring at each other in wide-eyed shock, both unable to say a thing.
“I—I can explain!” Jeff stammered out as he moved toward me, causing his still-hard erection to point straight at me, almost as if to ask me to look at it and acknowledge where it’d just been.
“Don’t touch me!” I screamed as I backed away from him. I glared at him, then Carly, and then back to him. “I don’t understand. How could you guys? My boyfriend? My best friend?” I drew in a sharp, uneven breath. “And on my fucking birthday?”
“Chloe,” Carly’s voice was soft, almost pleading, “I’m sorry. We didn’t intentionally want to hurt you…”
“Shut up, Carly! Just shut the fuck up! What was all that bullshit this morning about making sure I got my birthday sex from Jeff today, and how I should take the day off? And when I decide to take your advice, take the day off and come see him, I walk in on you fucking him! Did I miss something? Is your name Chloe? Did you turn thirty today? Is he your boyfriend?” By this point, I was fuming with rage.
“I—I didn’t know you’d show up, Chloe,” she pleaded. “I asked you this morning what your plans were today. You said you’d be at work. I didn’t plan for you to see this.”
I snorted at her attempt to reason with herself. “Oh, so that makes it okay for you to fuck your best friend’s boyfriend? Because you didn’t know I’d find out?”
I watched her open her mouth to respond but then she closed it without saying a word.
Jeff moved toward me again. This time, he grabbed one of my hands and forced me to face him.
“Chloe, I love you. This was just a mistake. It doesn’t change the way I feel about you.”
I stared at him in utter disbelief. “Do you really think this doesn’t change things between us? Do you really think I can just forget this happened—that I can forget everything I just saw? Because trust me, if I could scrub the images of you fucking my friend in the ass from my memory, I’d ask you to go get me some bleach and a scrub brush.”
