And now she’s at it again.
Ever since she was promoted to lead designer and in charge of her own team, she works nonstop. Well, mostly. But just like me, we make time for each other.
My wedding band clinks on the doorknob as I open the bedroom door wider and follow the soft clicks of her laptop in the office.
I lean against the doorframe, resting my head there and watching her for a moment. Her paintings decorate the wall. On the other side of the room is her easel. And my desk. I wasn’t sure about sharing a space for work, but it’s worked out better than I anticipated.
She did have her own art space in the spare bedroom, but now that space is being put to a different use. So we work together, and I know without a doubt that it always should have been that way.
She’s made my house a home. Leaving work is now enjoyable, knowing that I’m coming home to her beautiful smile.
The faint light from her computer bathes her in a glow. My lips creep up into a smile. No, that glow is from something else.
As my eyes travel to her swollen belly, the tapping of her laptop stops.
Her gorgeous blue eyes stare back at me as she asks, “Did I wake you?” A wrinkle sets in the middle of her forehead as she frowns and gets up to come over to me. Her belly almost pushes against the desk, but she turns in time. She’s only now getting used to the weight of our little boy.
Six months pregnant, a little over a year after marriage, almost two years since I first laid eyes on her, and I couldn’t love her more.
Our baby boy is healthy, and the doctors don’t expect any complications. It’s funny how she was so nervous and anxious when we were trying, but the moment she got pregnant, she relaxed and I became the one who was worrying about everything.
I open my arms as she slowly walks to me, the lack of sleep seeming to hit her as she reaches me.
Her soft body molds to mine as I hold her and kiss her hair. The smell of her shampoo tickles my nose as I smile. “I just missed you I think,” my words reflect my sleepy state.
She lifts her head to look at me, “I just wanted to get this one done before the baby comes.”
My smile only widens at her response. “We have three more months, sweetheart.”
She pouts in response, and it only makes me want to kiss her that much more.
Her lips part to give some excuse, but I don’t let her say a word. I crush my lips to hers, spearing my fingers through her hair and deepening it when she melts into me.
Two years since I set eyes on her, and I don’t know how I ever lived without her.
When I pull away from her, Grace’s hands travel toward her belly and I know why; I can feel our little boy kicking her. She looks up at me in wonder, as if it’s the first time she’s felt him.
A chuckle escapes me as I push her hair out of her face and plant a chaste kiss on her lips.
She grabs my hand and places it on her belly and our baby kicks my hand just then. It’s hard enough that I would have pulled back had Grace’s hand not still been on top of mine.
“Is he why you can’t sleep?” I ask her playfully, my hands traveling over her swollen bump.
“No, the spray works really well to put me out.” My eyes reach hers again, and in them I see nothing but happiness. Cheryl and Ali have been over nonstop, giving her all sorts of things.
Grace happened to say once at Sunday dinner that she wasn’t sleeping well. The very next day the both of them were over here with all sorts of pillows and aromatherapy sprays.
I’ve never loved my family more than now. And I know Grace loves them, too.
Together, we’re complete; there’s no doubt in my mind that this is how it was supposed to happen all along.
I tip her chin up, holding her gaze for a moment before kissing her one last time and whispering, “I love you.” I can feel her smile on my lips before she whispers back, “And I love you.”
* * *
The End.
BURNED PROMISES
From USA Today bestselling author Willow Winters comes an emotionally gripping, standalone, second chance romance.
* * *
He made me a promise.
And then he broke it.
That’s what happens with your first love.
* * *
I didn’t expect for Derek to fall back into my life and for me to fall back into his bed.
Time changes a lot of things, but it doesn’t change everything.
* * *
It doesn’t change the way he makes my heart skip or the way my lungs stop when he stares deep into my eyes.
It didn’t change his bad boy ways either and I should be smart enough to tell him no this time around.
* * *
I should be, I know what it’s like to be burned by him.
But it’s so hard to walk away when his touch begs me to stay and the pain in his eyes cuts me deeper than anything else in this world.
PROLOGUE
Derek
* * *
IT’S BEEN FIVE YEARS. Five long, tiring years since I’ve felt the gentle touch of her soft lips pressed against mine. She was such a beautiful distraction back then. A sweet girl full of innocence who I could never have. My sweetheart. My Emma.
I’d call her my high school sweetheart, but that’s not what she was. Our relationship was a secret. Stolen kisses and private moments. We weren’t supposed to be together. And we made sure to hide it.
I was tainted by my reputation, but I didn’t want to be. I didn’t choose this life. It chose me
I can still hear the smack of the belt. I can still feel the crunch of my jaw from when my father’s fist slammed against it. At only ten years old, I was his punching bag. My Ma wouldn’t let it continue though.
She took me away from him, but couldn’t afford much on her own. We had nothing.
So I took the limited opportunities I had. And they led me down a path I knew better than to take.
Emma knew it, too. She knew I was bad news the second she saw me.
The good girl doesn’t date the drug dealer. That’s not written in any fairy tales.
I take a sip of my whiskey and relish the burn as it travels down my throat and through my chest. The glass clinks against the mantel as I set it down gently, the crackling sounds of the fireplace filling the living room.
“Derek?” There’s a hesitation in Emma’s voice, and I know why. I turn to take her in, those tempting curves and gorgeous hazel eyes. Her sun-kissed skin looks even more radiant from the glow of the fire.
It ended back then exactly how it should’ve. With her realizing I was no good, and walking away. No reasons were given, but I didn’t need them. She saw enough and walked away. She had to protect herself.
It hurt; I know it hurt her too, but that’s the way these things go.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” I ask as I turn to her, leaving the mantel and walking across the spacious room to set my knee on the cognac leather sofa she’s lying on. She sits up as I get closer, pulling the cream chenille throw tighter around her shoulders. She’s hiding herself from me; I want her naked and bared, but I’ll allow it for now.
The bad boy isn’t meant to have the good girl. My life was hard and dangerous; there was too much that could’ve happened if she’d been home in my bed while I went out and made this life for myself. I made more than a life. I carved out a reputation that creates fear, and commands respect.
I’m not just a drug dealer anymore. Now, I run this town. Every piece of it. If there’s a business I don’t own, you better believe they owe me in some way. I didn’t ask for this, but when you have the wealth and power I do, opportunities fall in your lap. And I took them.
“I’m sorry,” she says and her voice cracks and she looks away, avoiding my gaze.
It breaks my heart.
I cup her chin in my hand and lift her lips to mine, giving her a soft touch she’s not used to. I’m not used to it either. The warmth of the fire hits my back in soothing waves a
s I pull away from her. Her eyes close, and her breath comes in shorter pants. I’ve never had anyone else in my life like her and now that she's back I’m not ready to give her up again.
“Nothing to be sorry about,” I declare, but even as I say the words, I feel my heart squeezing in my chest with a pain that won’t go away. She starts to say something else, but I’m quick to put my finger to her lips, hushing her. “It’s alright, sweetheart.”
I don’t want to talk about what happened back then. I don’t want to think about all that shit.
Life’s different now. I may still be in this lifestyle, but I’m on top. And I need her now more than ever.
She didn’t know why I was so eager to get lost in her touch back then, and she still doesn’t know now.
I don’t need a reason.
I’m ready to take what I want.
And I want her.
CHAPTER 1
Emma
* * *
I TAKE a look out of Sandra’s bay window at the light dusting of snow falling. It’s picturesque with the thick, crinkled, baby blue satin curtains pulled back, and a bouquet of white and red roses with baby’s breath in the center sitting on the windowsill.
It’s so beautiful here, back in my home town. It doesn’t snow like this down south where I go to school. Sometimes I wish I’d stayed up here. Although now that my parents are getting a divorce, it’s probably best I stayed away.
I sit back on my sister’s cream tufted sofa, the gorgeous fireplace roaring with life. A flat-screen TV nestled between the built-in bookshelves is playing the soft sounds of some real housewife show that happened to be on when I crashed on the sofa. At least I still have my sister. My parents never really seemed to love each other anyway.
It hurts. Even though I know they’ll be happier apart, I can’t help but wish they’d be happy together.
Sandra saw the bitter divorce coming. She’ll be happy if they never speak to each other again.
It sucks to think that way, that people who once loved each other should stay apart. I shift on my sister’s couch to get comfortable and try to ignore these gloomy thoughts.
It happens, and it’s for the best.
I roll my eyes, thinking about my last breakup. Breaking up with Michael was definitely for the best.
My heart squeezes a bit, not from missing him, but from the loss of a connection with someone. Some days I feel so alone, like I’m never going to have someone special in my life. I take in a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh, picking at my finger nails.
Closing my eyes, I remember how my mom told me she settled. I will never settle. I don’t want to end up like my mother.
I cringe inwardly at my thoughts, but it’s true.
I think I’ve settled with every relationship I’ve ever had, except my first.
If that even counts as a relationship.
I was scared to even whisper the word “boyfriend” around Derek. I counted each day waiting for it to end. I knew it would, it wasn’t ever going to last. He was my first in a lot of ways, but I didn't give him my V-card. If I could do it all over though, I’d go back and give it all to him. I’d strip down in a heartbeat in the back of his old beat up Honda and let him claim every inch of me.
How awful is that? Maybe it’s because with him, I didn’t feel like I was settling. I felt whole with him. I looked forward to our private moments in the back of his car after school. Sometimes I’d sneak out at night and go to his house. I’d creep into his backyard, and tap on the window to his room. He never made me wait long.
I think he really liked it when I did that.
I think he felt the same way about me.
But that was high school, and Derek was a bad boy.
I’ve always been a good girl, but for him I broke the rules. For him, I did whatever he wanted, and that was dangerous. Too dangerous.
I snuggle into the sofa and sigh softly, remembering the way he held me. As if my body was meant to be held by his.
It all happened so naturally. Day one, he took me home and I wanted to kiss him, so I did.
Day two, he called me over to his table in the cafeteria to sit with him during lunch, so I did.
I walked straight to where he parked that day after school and he was waiting for me. As if we’d made plans.
We didn’t have to talk about it. We didn’t need a label. We just fell into place.
I roll my eyes again and readjust the book on my lap. If only it could be that easy again.
I take another look around and try not to be jealous of how freaking beautiful my sister’s house is. She’s now a night nurse, and obviously making bank.
I’ll never make that kind of money.
I live in a cramped, but affordable, apartment, and there’s no way I’ll land a job making a high enough income to afford a house like this. But I’m fine with that. I want to give back and be there for the kids who need help. I’m almost there. I only have one more semester to go until I graduate.
I always knew this job was for me. Deep down, I know I can make a difference. I’m petite, and I have a young face with a higher-pitched voice, causing most people to not take me seriously. But that works to my advantage when it comes to the younger kids in the program. I’ve always been a people watcher, and I’m not a threat. People don’t try to hide around me because there isn’t a reason to. I’m not a threat. I have a gift for understanding personalities.
They try to put on a show with their bad behavior, but I see who they really are. And that’s the first step to getting them help. They can open up to unsuspecting, little ole me and that makes me proud. It makes me feel fulfilled.
Right now I need to study though. I look down at the book in my lap and almost groan out loud.
These chapters on morals and ethics aren’t going to read themselves. I've highlighted almost every line in the last three chapters, and I still have no idea what I've read. I just can't focus. Being home for break is throwing me off my usually good study habits.
A creak from behind me and the clicking of heels on the tile followed by the clank of keys being tossed onto the table in the hall makes me sit up straight. Oh thank God; Sandra’s home. My lips kick up into a smile, a distraction!
Maybe she’ll want to open a bottle of wine and watch a chick flick. I deserve a break tonight, and Sandra’s always good for a girls' night. No matter where life takes us, I know that much. There’s something about the bond between sisters that will always bring us back together.
As Sandra walks into the wide doorway, I start closing my books and putting my stuff back in my Kate Spade pebbled leather tote. It was a Christmas gift from her, and I freaking love it. I wanna make sure she sees I’m already using it. I make a mental note to remember to buy her something really nice for her birthday.
“Hey,” she says as she drapes her tweed pea coat on the back of the sofa. She pulls her hair over her shoulders and walks straight to the fire. “It’s fucking freezing out there.” Her cheeks are bright red from the cold. I hate the cold.
“Yeah, but it looks pretty,” I answer back, and she snorts a laugh. We both hate the cold.
“What are you studying tonight?” she asks as she casually drops onto the couch next to me.
“Morals and ethics.”
“Well, that sounds fascinating!” she says sarcastically, and I grin.
“Yeah well, I’m done for the night.” I lie on the sofa, putting my feet on the seat right by her thighs. “How was work?” I ask.
“Busy. I'm exhausted.” She yawns as she leans back into the sofa.
“Feel like opening a bottle of wine and vegging out in front of the TV?” I stare at the ceiling, feeling like a slacker. “I can't study anymore tonight.” I didn’t really study at all, but she doesn’t need to know that.
“Actually, Tony’s on his way over,” she says easily and then covers her yawn. “We were just going to hang out here for a while.”
“Oh, okay. I'll get out of your way then.�
�� Tony. Her boy toy. I haven’t met him yet, so I’m definitely going to sneak down while he’s here. I don’t wanna step on her toes while I’m visiting, but I’m not passing up a chance to see who she’s always talking about.
“I really should be studying anyway,” I say and a yawn slips out of my mouth at the last word. I blame her yawn; they’re addictive.
“No!” she says, smacking my leg. “Stay and hang out with us! I really want you to meet him,” she says, giving me a pleading look. “And he’s bringing a friend over, so you won't be a third wheel.”
I have to stop myself from groaning. She better not be trying to set me up. I have a bad feeling that’s exactly what she’s doing. It’s her style and the men she picks are never my type. I bite my tongue at that last thought. “You deserve a break,” she says softly, giving me puppy eyes again. “You've been working so hard.”
“Okay,” I say halfheartedly. I’m not really looking forward to being set up. I put a little more pep into my voice. “Sounds good! I'll hang out for a little bit, and then get back to studying.” That’s a lie. I’ll hang out and then go crash upstairs. Fuck studying, but it’s a good excuse to bail later tonight. All this hard work has made me lame. But whatever, I need my beauty sleep. The thought forces another yawn out, as if my body agrees.
“I'm gonna go change out of my scrubs before Tony gets here.” The sofa groans as Sandra gets up, pushing herself off the couch.
I follow her up the stairs, grabbing my tote and bringing it to the guest room Sandra’s letting me stay in. I need to put on real clothes at least. I’m not meeting Tony and his friend in my PJs.
I pull baggy sweater over my tank top and pair it with some worn jeans. They’ll never know I’m not wearing a bra. I chuckle softly at the thought, but the smile vanishes when I see myself in the mirror on the dresser. I look rundown. There's just no hiding the dark circles around my tired eyes. I'm exhausted. At least my hair is still decent from this morning. Not that it really matters. I'm not trying to impress either Sandra’s boyfriend, or whoever his friend is.
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