by Jill Cooper
He doesn’t miss a thing. His nose scrunches and he scowls at me. “What aren’t you telling me, Montgomery? What’d you do this time?”
I lock my wrists behind his head and pull him in for a tender kiss. “None of it matters anymore. It’s over. And now I’m ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“To live life normally. One day at a time. One hour at a time, just the way it’s meant to be.”
“Sounds perfect.” Donovan gives me a gentle kiss. Not a goodbye kiss, but a forever kiss.
And that’s what I choose. I want a normal, everyday sort of life.
For the most part.
However, for just a brief moment, I decide to show Donovan. He’s only heard me talk about time travel and he’s been influenced by it. He’s never seen how beautiful it can be. It’s been a curse since the moment I saved my mother’s life, but there is a rare beauty to be found in it, too.
Even if it was corrupted by man.
So, as a pink flower blows off a bush and over the railing, I stretch out my hand. I slow the bloom down. It spins toward me in slow motion and I easily catch it in the palm of my hand. Donovan’s eyes are wide as he takes it from me and I flick a finger, speeding only the flower up, causing it to spin.
Like a ballerina on stage, it pirouettes, caught in the whirlwind of time. It’s a life-changing thing to see. To witness. Even I’m surprised by how it calms my soul.
“I don’t know how you can give it up,” Donovan admits. “I don’t know how you can just go back to being Lara.”
“I’ve always been Lara,” I admit. “With the time travel or not, it hasn’t changed who I am. But can you love me? If I’m just Lara and nothing else?”
He let’s go of the flower and it floats in mid-air, sparkling and gorgeous. Donovan presses up against me. “Pretty sure time travel or not, life with you will always be an adventure.”
My nose crinkles and I press the palms of my hands into his. Our fingers tangle together as if we are one. We watch as the sun sets on DC and there’s only room for hope in my heart. I can be happy in this world. A world I can live in.
“Then I can’t wait to get started.”
Donovan kisses my hand. “And where should our next adventure take us? I think you deserve a long vacation. Fun in the sun?”
It’s hard to resist such an offer. “My mom will never let us take a vacation together. Alone.”
“Oh, c’mon, Rockstar. You know how much your mom adores me.” He flashes the James grin. It’s practically award winning.
I giggle. “My dad?”
“Okay, you got me there. I can work on him.” Donovan pulls me in very tightly. “Promise.” He whispers.
I bit my lip and playfully go up on my tiptoes. “Then once you have my dad under the spell of your charm, where are you going to take me?”
“Maui? Japan? Ohh, Tahiti?”
I shrug. “How about all three?”
“You think I’m made of money, Montgomery?” Donovan’s forehead crinkles. “We lost almost everything.”
“You’ll get it back.” I kiss him.
“Yeah and how do you know?”
I smirk. “I can see the future.”
Donovan chuckles and swings his arm around me. He leads me back into the banquet hall. “And what do you see for us? Anything special?”
“Nah.” I wave him off as if it’s no big deal, even though it is, very much so. A very big deal. “Just happily ever after.”
Coming up Next: Time Break
In Time Break, Lara and Donovan prepare for the biggest moment of their lives: Wedding and a marriage, but when someone close to Lara ends up murdered, it’ll be time for her to put everything back on the line.
Checkout chapter two of Time Break.
Time Break Chapter Two:
It happens at the strangest of times, that beckoning—that pull to travel through time. Maybe it’s just a spilled cup of coffee ruining an outfit, but sometimes it’s more serious. Sometimes it’s because I witnessed a car accident or I read in the paper about a little boy going missing. Sometimes the pull to time travel is so strong it blinds me with a headache.
Right or wrong, I haven’t tried to travel in time since the Rewind Agency was disbanded. Watching people suffer hurts, but I know messing around with time travel hurts more. Consequences can’t be predicted and even in those moments when I wanted to end suffering, I ended up causing more. The best thing I can do is turn a blind eye to it all. Even slowing things down, or speeding them up, affects things.
I’m not sure I even remember how to make it all happen again. I’m afraid to find out. Or even try.
Donovan makes life easier. His strong hands caress the small of my back as he slips my black dress up on my shoulders. Then, smooth as white chocolate, he zips me up. Standing in our penthouse suite that overlooks all of Boston, I gaze at my reflection. Our master bedroom is bigger than most apartments and the six-panel mirror reflects perfection back at me.
The dress fits like a glove. Donovan’s eyes linger on my curves as he wraps his arms tight around my waist. My hair is long, but pinned back with diamond barrettes, and my make-up is flawless. It’s every girl’s dream to live the life we do, but it is mostly Don’s, not mine. It’s given to me, borrowed. A few great investments along the way have treated him well. He’s on the cusp of amassing a small fortune and he’s not stingy with those he shares with.
His mouth hovers against my neck and I stroke my fingers through his blond short locks. When he blows against my skin, I shiver. Part of me wishes we didn’t have to go to the banquet, but Delilah’s call plays in the back of my mind, keeping my anxiety high. Donovan’s strong hand touches my chin and nudges my face close to his. As we kiss, Mr. Handsome in his tux caresses my waist. The heat between us knows no words—no bounds. My engagement ring sparkles in the mirror and reflects across his face as he spins me around.
“Let’s skip,” Donovan whispers and his lips engulf mine.
I want to give into him so badly that I nod, but then shake my head. “I can’t,” I’m breathless as I hug him and nuzzle his neck. Soon, we’ll have to go. Soon, he’ll look at me and I’ll see the displeasure on his face. There’re few things Don hates more than politicians and taxes; one of those is time travel.
“I have to speak to Delilah and I’m on the board,” I let out a long deep breath, “I have to show up at the fundraisers or else everyone might realize…I’m not as involved as I should be.”
As I promised.
He nods, but with a faraway glint in his eye. Donovan takes my hand and squeezes it. “You do look gorgeous tonight, rock star. It’d be criminal to keep you all to myself.”
I’m still more comfortable in jeans and my converse running shoes. Donovan’s affection makes it easy as he takes my hand and leads me out of the bedroom. Out in the posh foyer, he drapes a black wrap around my shoulders and kisses my cheek. “When it’s time to go, the secret word is ‘fruit dip’.”
I grin at the craziness of it all. “Afraid you’ll turn into a pumpkin if the clock strikes twelve?”
“You’re giving me too much credit. I’m afraid I’ll turn into a butternut squash.” Donovan’s joke is lame, but it makes me laugh and maybe that’s why he said it in the first place.
We head down to the first floor. In the elevator, he kisses me, pressing my back against the wall. I know what he wants and I want it too.
The door dings open and the doorman—in his quaint cap—gawks, and I wipe my fingers across my mouth. Sheepishly, Donovan laughs. My arm is hooked in his as he slips a few crisp bills into the man’s hand. “Sorry you had to see that.”
“No problem, Mr. James.” The doorman gets the door for us and outside a stretch limo is waiting. I scoot Inside and see chilled strawberries and champagne awaiting us.
“You ever get tired of pampering me?”
Donovan clinks his glass against mine, and as I sip, the bubbles tickle my nose. “Nothing’s too good for you. Is
it wrong that I want to treat my girl to life’s finest pleasures?”
“No, I just want to make sure you’re not spending too much.”
“Don’t worry,” Donovan’s dimples appear as he smiles, “with the way the investments are going, I can handle it and much more. You just have to trust me. You do trust me, don’t you, Montgomery?”
Soon, I’d be a James like him. I smile as I pop a ripe strawberry into my mouth. “With my life.”
As if there was ever any doubt.
****
The banquet is at the Hilton Warf. The harbor glistens through the windows as we stroll into the entryway. The gleaming black floor mirrors our reflections and along the ceiling, three identical chandeliers cast prisms against the wall. It’s elegance at its finest. Waitresses in professional aprons carry trays of food amongst the hordes of businessmen and police officials.
In a sea of calm, I stand on the edge of a knife. Groups of people still make me uneasy and my breathing is labored as I fight the urge to retreat into myself.
It intensifies as if my brain wants to be somewhere else.
Skipping like a faulty CD track, my heartbeat calms and regulates as Donovan takes my hand. “It’s been awhile since we’ve been here. I don’t doubt this is hard for you.”
The last time we were here, we changed time and Donovan’s mother was arrested. Not before I was shot at, mind you. The entire city of Boston was one big time-travel memory. I haven’t fled the city for one simple reason—family.
“Lara Montgomery,” Marcus O’Reily, the former senator, greets me with a warm smile. When he takes my hand, he doesn’t shake it but instead, gives it a tender kiss. Donovan might have tensed up if he knew about my time travel adventures with Marcus—we had shared a passionate kiss when I time-traveled back to meet him while he was still in college. I had to make sure he’d remember me enough to wait fifteen years and do what I had asked.
And boy did he. He didn’t just remember me. He pined for me for twenty years—never marrying, never having children—changing the course of his life forever. It was just one of the many reasons why I had decided time travel was too dangerous. Once, before I’d interfered, Marcus had had children, and now he didn’t. Those people, individual humans, no longer existed because of something I had done.
“Marcus,” I gave him a tepid smile, “It’s nice to see you again.”
“You sure know how to throw a great party.” Donovan shakes his hand in greeting as I lean against him. Part of me must make Marcus understand where my future lies. Marcus might be thirty years my senior, but I know what his heart craves. I can’t afford any misunderstandings.
“Delilah spares no expense. As chairman, I just show up where I’m told. If you’ll excuse me. Lara, beautiful as ever. I’ll catch up with you at the shrimp bowl.” Marcus winks as he makes his way across the room. He’s a smooth talker, weaving way across the floor like a pro. Greasing palms, knocking elbows, all the while making it so I don’t need to do those things. I can have a normal life without the stresses of time travel regulation.
“Well,” Donovan raises his eyebrows, “Marcus never changes.”
I grin in appreciation. “He could sell ice to an Eskimo.”
Donovan and I move into the next room. The dance floor is nearly empty. Surrounded by round tables draped in white tablecloths, the floor sparkles, thanks to the disco ball overhead. I place my hand in Donovan’s as he takes my hip and we move in time. My head falls to his shoulder and I gaze at his strong jaw. His face relaxes into a casual smile and it’s a profile I love. One I’ll grow old with. No woman couldn’t be happier than I am.
After a quick dance, I lock my wrists behind his head and we fall into a tender kiss. “Soon we’ll head for some fruit dip, but I’m going to go search for Delilah.”
He keeps me close and kisses my nose. Warmth spreads through me as I hurry out the service entrance. At the stairs, I climb up to the second floor. It smells like fresh carpet as I saunter down the hall. There’s a maid with a cart outside one of the rooms and she bids me a good day.
“Good evening, miss.”
I do a double take because her voice sounds familiar somehow, but there’s nothing about her that looks familiar. Funny, I knock on Delilah’s suite. When I do so, the door falls open—it wasn’t latched.
“Del?” I grip the doorframe and peer inside. I can barely hear myself think because the television is blaring so loud. That’s when I notice the blood smeared into the grain of the wood. My heart flutters as I push the door open and step inside into the compact kitchen. Hurrying along, I’m in a seating area with a sofa where a television flickers with commercials.
The volume is so loud, I squint and grab the remote to mute the television. It had been turned all the way up. Who does that?
“Delilah?” I call out urgently. I hurry into the bedroom and that’s when I see her.
My heart is in my chest at the sight of my friend crumpled on the ground. Her dress is only half-zipped and there’s a puddle of blood beneath her head as vibrant as the color of her hair. Her hands clenched tightly around the rope tied tight around her neck.
Her open, unblinking eyes are fixed on the ceiling.
She’s dead. My confidant and lifeline is dead.
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