The lines on Jayson’s forehead softened as he tilted her chin gently. “I’m leaving so that you don’t feel compelled to take care of me. I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”
“I guess we’re just going to have to take care of each other.” She shrugged, vulnerable and unsure. “I mean, if that’s what you want. I don’t want you to feel like I’m controlling you.”
A slow grin spread his mouth. “How ironic.”
She grinned back at him.
“I love you, Gia. I’ve made so many mistakes. I’ve been holding on to you without realizing it.”
“We both made mistakes.” She gently touched his hand, still cradling her face. “And hey, I’ve been holding on, too. Have you checked my last name lately?”
“You never dropped the Cooper.”
“I couldn’t let go. Not all the way. Letting go’s not the answer and you know it. We screwed up, Jay.”
“Yeah. We did.”
“I have a better idea of how you can make it up to me and it doesn’t involve you leaving ThomKnox. You can’t leave me in a lurch and force me to find a good executive to run this department with no notice at all.” She affected a stern expression. “Do we understand each other?”
“Yes, boss.”
She quirked her lips. “I like that.”
He leaned in to whisper into her ear, his voice a low rasp, “Only here. In the bedroom you know who’s in charge.”
When he pulled away, she felt her cheeks grow bright pink. “Jay,” she whispered. “We have an audience.”
“Right.” He winked. “We’ll talk about that later.”
Taylor broke the silence. “To our CTO and new vice president!” She held up her plastic cup.
Addison cranked up the music.
The crowd cheered.
By the time the dancing started and everyone had dispersed, Gia and Jayson still hadn’t moved from where they stood in front of each other.
“What are you doing tonight?” he asked.
“Oh, the usual.” She shrugged. “Making dinner. Having a glass of wine with my laptop. Meeting the installers who are delivering the new bed.”
“You ordered a new bed?”
“Yeah. I thought I wanted a different one since that other one was ours.”
“And now?”
She tipped her head. “Now I’m thinking we should break in the new one. It’d be a crime to let a brand-new bed go to waste.”
“Hell yes it would.” He stepped closer and muttered, “Kiss me, Gia.”
“No. You kiss me.”
His smirk was one for the books. “Meet me halfway?”
“From here on out.”
Epilogue
Laptop aglow in front of her, Gia was curled into the corner of the sofa, her eyes heavy. She just wanted to finish this one last part...
In a flash, the screen vanished, swept up by Jayson, who swapped the laptop for a glass of wine.
“I was busy!” she argued, but took the proffered glass before she ended up wearing it.
“You’re always busy. You’d work until your eyeballs rolled out of your head if I let you.”
“That’s a charming mental picture.”
“Can this wait?” He held up the laptop. Then he glanced at the screen. “Candy Blaster?”
“It’s strangely addicting.”
He sat next to her, his hand wrapped around her waist. “You, Gia Knox-Cooper, are strangely addicting.”
She accepted his kiss, her eyes sinking closed. Since she’d taken the vice president position, she’d moved her office from the tech department to the executive floor. Jayson took her former office and she was glad that he finally had his own space.
He was a man in charge, an executive as much as she was, and he deserved more than open office seating.
He’d been sure to remind her that she deserved to be at the top of her namesake company. She was a Knox and thereby “royalty” and, he’d also mentioned, again, that vice president was her destiny.
She was beginning to accept he was right. She’d done a lot of sidestepping over the years around taking what she wanted. For all her fighting for her own independence, she’d had a hard time accepting it.
As vice president she could make her mark at the company she loved. Plus, she worked closely with Taylor and her brothers, and Jayson, and that was the best part.
“I was going to ask you about that new—”
He pressed a finger to her lips and shook his head.
“Unless you were going to finish that sentence with the words sexual position, I’m not interested.”
“Jayson!” She giggled when his fingers tickled her bare skin under her shirt.
“All work and no play, G. Don’t you want a break?”
She set the wineglass aside and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him rather than answering. He was a lot more fun to kiss than he was to spar with, even though they were both really good at that, too.
He’d moved out of his apartment and back into the house they’d once shared. They had enjoyed plenty of sunbathing in the heated in-ground pool, and they were enjoying their new and old beds. Though the new bed had been relegated to a guest room. They preferred their former marriage bed for their room.
“I have a toast.” He slipped away from her and grabbed his own glass.
“Now? That was just getting good.” She pouted.
“I know but I have something to say. It’s your favorite Chardonnay.”
The crisp white Chardonnay was hard to turn down. It was her favorite autumn wine. She reached for her glass.
“To our anniversary,” he said, clanging his glass with hers.
“Today isn’t our anniversary.”
“Not our wedding anniversary. The anniversary of the first time I saw you.”
“That was New Year’s Eve.”
“I don’t mean then, either. I’m talking about when I first saw you at ThomKnox. I was addressing my staff and stopped midsentence when you walked by. Stevens called me on it, gave me shit for a week about how I couldn’t keep my tongue in my mouth.”
“No! I’ve never heard this story before.”
He set his glass aside and dropped to his knees in front of her. “Marry me, Gia.” He took her free hand—her left hand. “Again.”
“Why? I already have your name. You already live in my house.”
“Our house.”
She barely held back her smile. Her heart lifted, her mind whirred. She wanted to marry him again.
He’d learned he didn’t have to prove his worth to her. She’d learned that him taking care of her was how he showed love. Being gracious was her challenge, while his was realizing he could let his guard down.
Nothing would come between them again. She knew it in her soul.
They had already agreed to communicate better, to stop trying to guess what the other one wanted, and ask instead. They understood how to give and take in equal measures. No one had to carve out their own corner. They met in the middle. Always.
“I need a new pasta maker since you threw the old one out. Figured we could register for one.” He gave her a half smile.
“I do love your homemade pasta. Can we break tradition and have you make it for Christmas?”
“Gia, I asked you a question.”
“I know. I’m thinking!”
“You have to think?”
“Not about the yes I’m going to give you. About which anniversary we’ll celebrate in the future. Our old anniversary or our new one? Can we celebrate both?”
Grinning, probably because she’d sneaked her yes in those sentences, he said, “We’ll celebrate today. The day we decided to make forever official. The day we decided that nothing matters more in this world than each other. The day we went in one hundred
-one hundred.”
“Because fifty-fifty is for losers,” she whispered.
“Exactly.” He rested his elbows on the couch cushions and pressed his big body against hers. Heat engulfed her whenever he was near and he was promising never to be far again. “The rings, the license, the ceremony are details. I don’t care how it happens, so long as it does. Let’s make a real go of it this time, G.”
She put her hand into his hair and looked into his earnest, blue eyes. She was grateful, so grateful to have this time with him—to have this chance again. “I love you, Jay.”
“I love you, gorgeous. Always and forever.”
“Always and forever is a big commitment.”
“You think of something bigger than that, you let me know.” He kissed her softly and then reached into his pocket to pull out her original engagement ring...only the stone was a hell of a lot bigger than it was the first time around.
She pretended to shield her eyes from the glare.
“I won’t do anything with you halfway—not ever again.” He slid the band onto her left ring finger.
“How did you—”
“Your jewelry box isn’t that vast,” he answered. “I stole it and took it to the jeweler for the upgrade.”
She admired the chunk of diamond on her finger, glittering in the lamplight. “It’s massive.”
“It’s the biggest I could buy without you needing a stroller to push it around in.” She laughed and he continued, “Though I’m not opposed to a stroller for you to push something else around in.”
“You mean like a toy dog?”
Jayson didn’t balk. “Dog. Baby. Your collection of Funko Pop! character dolls. Whatever you want, wife.”
She put her hand on his cheek and touched his nose with hers. “I like the sound of that, husband. I’m willing to give you what you want, too. That’s how much I love you.”
“Honey,” he said in that low, growly sexy way of his, “You’ve already given me everything I want. Anything else from here on is the cherry on top.”
* * *
Don’t miss any of the Kiss and Tell series
from Jessica Lemmon!
His Forbidden Kiss
One Wild Kiss
One Last Kiss
Keep reading for an excerpt from Wild Nashville Ways by Sheri WhiteFeather.
WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK FROM
Luxury, scandal, desire—welcome to the lives of the American elite.
Be transported to the worlds of oil barons, family dynasties, moguls and celebrities. Get ready for juicy plot twists, delicious sensuality and intriguing scandal.
6 NEW BOOKS AVAILABLE EVERY MONTH!
Wild Nashville Ways
by Sheri WhiteFeather
One
Tracy
I answered the door, only to find Dash Smith, the hottest new country star on the planet, standing on my daddy’s front porch.
“Hey, Tracy,” he said, much too softly, as I just stood there and stared. He was as handsome as ever, with those expressive brown eyes, the rigid jaw, that slightly crooked, bend-a-woman-to-his-will mouth. I couldn’t tell how his hair was styled beneath his baseball cap, but I was familiar with the inky black color.
He used to be my fiancé, back when both of us were struggling to make it. My damaged heart would argue that, somewhere inside the pain, I was still in love with Dash. That might be true. But that didn’t mean I wanted anything to do with him.
“What are you doing here?” I hoped he hadn’t tracked me down at my father’s house to bug me about working with him. We broke up nearly six years ago, and I’d done my best to heal, focusing on my music and moving on to other lovers. Then just this year, during the height of his success, he’d started texting me from his world tour, prodding me to do a duet with him when he returned. Call me stubborn, but I wasn’t going to make a record with my ex, no matter how badly my flagging career needed the boost. Besides, this was not the day to discuss it.
He frowned. “Didn’t your dad tell you? I’m going with you to his surgery. I’m going to help afterward, too.”
I clutched the doorknob, using it as an anchor. “No, he didn’t say anything about you...” I shouldn’t be surprised by Dash’s involvement, though. He and Pop had remained friends throughout the years, texting and calling and seeing each other when they could. And now Pop was battling testicular cancer and would be having an orchiectomy this morning.
A faraway look came into Dash’s eyes, and I suspected that he was thinking about his own father, who’d died from lung cancer a few years after our relationship ended. I’d attended the funeral, paying my respects and offering my condolences. I’d always loved his dad. Dash obviously adored mine, too.
With a lump forming in my throat, I glanced past him, taking inventory of the luxury SUV parked in the driveway. A broad-shouldered man sat behind the wheel. Considering how intently he watched us, he was probably a bodyguard doubling as a driver. Dash had grown up dirt-poor, and now he had millions of dollars and an army of people protecting him.
“Do you want to come in?” I asked. I couldn’t go against my dad’s wishes and block Dash from helping out. But damn, it hurt being this close to him again. His father’s funeral was the last time we’d seen each other, apart from today. “Pop is still getting ready.”
He followed me inside, leaving his driver in the car. “That’s fine.”
No, I thought, none of this was fine. Since Dash’s recent rise to stardom, I’d become consumed with his fame, reading nearly every online article, concert review and gossip tidbit written about him. Sometimes I even checked to see if he had a girlfriend. He hadn’t been linked to anyone, but he probably had enough groupies to keep him occupied.
During my short-lived brush with the limelight, groupies never chased me. A flutter of fans, yes. Hot men offering to fulfill my sexual whims... I wish.
For Dash, it was an entirely different story. His social media followers called themselves Dashers. Did his groupies have a cutesy little reference, too, for when they climbed into his bed to devour him? Maybe the Dine-and-Dashers?
He moved farther into the living room. “You did a nice job of fixing this place up.”
“Thanks.” I’d used some of the money I’d earned from my first album to help remodel the dusty old horse farm where I’d been raised. As for my own house, I was struggling to keep it afloat.
I wanted to revive my career, but not by riding Dash’s coattails. A few gossip sites had named me as his long-ago fiancée, but no one seemed to care. Of course, if we did a duet, it might stir a deeper interest in our past. I had too many other issues to confront. Not just Pop’s cancer and my financial problems, but things pertaining to my own health and the baby Dash and I should’ve had.
I put my hand against my stomach, remembering the ache associated with my miscarriage. The sadness. The loss.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I blinked, realizing that I was spacing out in front of him. I lowered my hand. I couldn’t tell him what I was thinking about. “It’s just a lot to take in.”
He roamed his gaze over me. “With your dad?”
“Yes.” And everything else, too, I thought.
He shifted his stance, and I took a step back, not wanting to get too close. He stood tall and broodingly handsome. I was tall, too, and our bodies used to fit so perfectly together. But that wasn’t something I should be remembering.
He said, “If you don’t mind, I’d like for you and your dad to ride with me. I brought my best bodyguard along,” he added, confirming who the man in the car was. “But some of my other security guys will be at the hospital, too. Mostly to keep the press at bay, in case they catch wind of me being there.”
Good grief. I hadn’t even considered the media. “What are you going to say if they do find out? Won’t t
hey wonder what you’re doing at a cancer ward?”
“I’ll just tell them the truth, that I accompanied a friend. But we’re hoping to avoid that. The hospital is going to set aside a private waiting room for us. They already have a policy in place about celebrities and public figures. Their employees aren’t allowed to ask for selfies or post anything on social media. If they do, they could lose their jobs. We can’t do much about other patients or their friends or family, though. But my team has a plan in place that should eliminate me coming into contact with the public. We’ll be doing everything we can to protect your dad’s privacy, so you don’t need to worry about that. I already discussed all of this with your pop.”
Dash tucked the baseball cap lower on his head, and I assessed his ensemble. He wore indigo jeans and a pale-gray Western shirt, pricey sunglasses hooked in his front pocket. But even with the dark glasses and hat, he was still going to be recognizable. He’d become too famous not to notice. Every song on his debut album had been certified gold or higher, with some of them crossing over onto the pop charts.
“Are you sure my dad is okay with all of this?” I asked.
“He assured me that he was, but you can confirm it with him.”
“I should probably check to see what’s taking him so long, anyway.” I also needed to get a grip on my emotions. How many years had I spent, wishing that Dash believed in love? He’d only asked me to marry him because of the baby, and that hurt as much now as it did back then.
I turned on my heel and walked down the narrow hallway, eager to get away from him. He’d admitted from the start that he thought love did more harm than good, and he wanted no part of it. I’d known that his feelings stemmed from his estranged mother and her abandonment of him and his dad, but I’d been foolish enough to think that I could fix what she’d broken.
I’d been motherless for a portion of my life, too. But mine hadn’t run off. She died when I was in middle school, and Pop and I still missed her every day.
One Last Kiss Page 16
