The Life That Mattered (The Life Series Book 1)

by Jewel E. Ann

  One, two, three …

  I counted, waited for the ringing to stop or the pain to begin.

  “Me too. I’m so glad you’re feeling better.” Evie kissed along my bare chest. “Is there anything I can do for you? Lunch? Want to watch a movie? The sun’s out. We could bundle up and sit on the porch for a little while, get some fresh air.”

  I threaded my fingers through her hair without saying a word. Blue eyes made their way to me as her lips paused at my sternum. A look … that was it. Not a smile. Not a word. Not a flinch. She saw it in my eyes.

  The need.

  The desire.

  The wavering edge of control.

  Her long lashes brushed her cheeks with several slow blinks before she wedged her body between my legs and kissed her way down my abdomen, letting her tongue tease along my muscles to the waist of my jogging shorts.

  Was it wrong of me to want this from her, given everything she had done for me?

  I didn’t know. All I knew was she did it better than anyone, and I wanted it pretty fucking bad.

  Her fingers curled into the material of my shorts, and she slid the front down just enough to release my cock. I drew in a slow breath and blew it out just as slowly as my lips parted—as her lips parted—taking me into her mouth.

  Fuck …

  Nothing felt quite like the slide of her tongue, the warmth of her mouth, the look in her eyes just before they closed—heavy and drunk.

  Mine.

  I’d suffer a million eternities of that unexplainable pain if it meant Evelyn Taylor would never look at another man … let her mouth do to another man what it did to me.

  Mine.

  Could she be mine if I didn’t give her all of myself?

  Her hands inched up my abs, fingers digging into the hard muscles. She hummed with her eyes closed. I grimaced, biting my lower lip as I gently fisted her hair with my right hand while my left hand claimed a handful of the sheets, my control slipping as the need to rock my hips off the bed, sliding deeper into her mouth, warred with my instinct to not hurt her.

  My instinct won. It always did with Evelyn … at least it did that day. But I wondered if there would come a day that my mind would lose control of my physical needs. Needs that weren’t really mine.

  Would my feelings—my life—ever really be my own?

  Evelyn

  “Where are you going?” Ronin reached for my hand as I climbed out of bed, but he was too slow.

  I glanced behind me. Naked, ratted hair, and thoroughly fucked.

  The unapologetic slide of his gaze along my body as his hand slid beneath the sheets between his legs contradicted my assessment of thoroughly, at least on his part. There was no question about his stamina … he was ready to get back to work.

  “If you get yourself off, I’m going to feel like a failure in bed.” I lifted a brow, plucking my clothes from the floor.

  He grinned, dragging his gaze to meet mine. “Sorry.” His teeth scraped along his lower lip as he homed in on my abs. Ronin liked my navel ring. “I have an incurable desire for you.”

  “I’m sure a baby in my belly someday and stretch marks marring my skin will cure it.”

  On a laugh, he released himself and propped his head up on his bent arm. “Don’t count on that. But since you mentioned it … let’s set a date.”

  “A date?” I called from the bathroom.

  “A wedding date.”

  “Maybe we should set a date for you to properly propose to me.” I smiled at myself in the mirror.

  “Okay. Tonight.”

  I shook my head, pulling on my jeans. “I need a manicure, and I’m not sure I can get one today.” Manicures didn’t matter. He liked talking about marriage (yes, I know I started it), but talk was just talk. Until he bended a knee and said something that brought me to tears, I refused to do anything more than play our little game.

  “Tomorrow?” He tried again, his voice a little muffed.

  “I’m not sure what time I’ll get back from Denver. And again … manicure.”

  “Christmas?” He sounded farther away, maybe the kitchen.

  “Too cliché.”

  “Evelyn, you’re being difficult.”

  I combed through my hair, rolling my eyes. All he had to do was toss me over his shoulder, carry me to an altar, and say I do. The excruciatingly painful circus that was Lila’s and Graham’s wedding planning had turned me off to the idea of a “wedding.”

  If I could have blinked and been Ronin’s wife, I would have. The health scares with my parents made me value life. Not the circus.

  “I’m not being difficult. I just think I’m worth something that feels more real than random mentions of marriage and wedding dates. A proposal. Nothing grand. I mean…” I laid my brush onto the counter “…at least bend a knee and mold a paperclip into a circle, or—”

  Oh my … god.

  As I stepped out of the bathroom, my heart stopped.

  Rose petals everywhere. Every color of rose imaginable. It was as if he took several trash bags full of rose petals and scattered them everywhere. I couldn’t see the bedding or the wood floor and rug because … petals … petals … petals. Where did he get all those petals?

  The room smelled like roses.

  Lavender used to be my favorite scent, but that day changed everything. Roses would forever make my heart skip, gallop, and melt into Ronin Alexander’s hands.

  In the middle of the rose petal sea, Ronin waited for me.

  On.

  Bended.

  Knee.

  His hair was a mess, just like his wrinkled white tee and gray jogging shorts. He looked out of breath, nervous, but hopeful. Like my future.

  Oh …

  And pinched between his thumb and finger was a diamond ring.

  Ronin swallowed and cleared his throat. “I’m fucking out of breath from doing this in under sixty seconds—and we owe Noah and Tami for the delivery. But here goes everything. You’ve seen my condo. The sparse amount of clothes in my closet. You know I could eat oatmeal for breakfast every morning and a bowl of soup for dinner every night. I’m a terrible gift-giver and a terrible planner. I don’t value things that much. And I’ve been content with my small family and ever-changing circle of friends who come and go from my life as I drift from one place to another.

  “I wasn’t looking for anyone the day you walked into that cafe in Vancouver. But since that day all I can do is look at you. My mother once said I’d find something … some-one who would make me forget my purpose in life. Break my compass. Jumble my thoughts. And steal my heart.” He shook his head. “I didn’t believe her.”

  I smiled through my tears, warm on my cheeks and salty as they slid over my lips.

  “She was right. I can’t think straight. I have no clue where I’m going. And if you hold out your palm, you’ll see that pulsing thing that used to reside in my chest is now sitting quite contentedly in your hand.”

  “Roe …” I swallowed my sob, taking a step toward him.

  “Will you marry me, Evelyn Grace Taylor?” He took my left hand and slid the ring onto my finger because he knew the answer long before he asked the question.

  Ronin kissed my finger over the ring, and then he looked up at me. “Will you?”

  I grinned, wiping more tears with my right hand. “Probably.”

  His grin matched mine as he stood and kissed me, lifting me off the ground. A breath later, my back hit the bed as petals scattered everywhere right along with our clothes.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  A minister friend of my grandma’s married us a few days later on Christmas morning. Just us, Ronin’s parents, my parents, and my grandma. It felt bittersweet to get married without my two best friends there, but we didn’t want a wedding, and we didn’t want to wait.

  I knew Katie would be pissed off, and Lila would feel like I trumped her big day by squeezing in my own wedding—well, really just a marriage. So we vowed to not tell Lila and Graham until they were m
arried and past the honeymoon phase. I wanted Lila to have her fair share of attention and marital bliss.

  It snowed that morning, so I insisted we slide our jackets on over our clothes—my simple white sheath dress and Ronin’s black suit—don our snow boots and get married in the clearing just beyond the wood pile. It felt like we got married in a snow globe. It really couldn’t have been more perfect.

  “I promise to find you in every life … in every universe.” I smiled, blinking the snow from my eyelashes.

  Ronin grinned. “I promise to carry you down every mountain.”

  Everyone chuckled at Ronin’s humor.

  He squeezed my cold hands. “And shelter your heart, keeping it warm and safe next to mine in this life … in every life … and every universe.”

  We said everything without ever saying those three words. There would come a day when we would need them. And saying them would mean everything. It would be a profoundly important moment in our lives. Maybe a last straw, a final breath, or maybe a new beginning. A spark of hope in the desolate dark.

  “I now pronounce you husband and wife. Ronin, you may kiss your bride.”

  He slid his hand along my cheek and brushed his lips over mine. Before kissing me, he whispered, “Evie …”

  I grinned, letting my mouth ghost over his. “Roe …”

  On the most perfect Christmas ever, my instincts were confirmed. I had in fact … arrived.

  Seven weeks later …

  I gazed at my secret husband sitting next to my parents in the front row of the church. He winked at me, his secret wife, as I stood next to my best friend, the most beautiful bride ever to wear a wedding gown. Lila and Graham shined. It wasn’t the million-dollar wedding, the celebrity guest list, the string quartet, or even the five-carat diamond he slid onto her finger.

  It was all the years of friendship. Graham’s steadfast love for Lila. When most men would have given up, he didn’t. And when Lila let him into her life—her heart—she was all in. Her love for him equaled his love for her. No two people had ever seemed more fated.

  Well … until I walked into a bun and bubble tea cafe in Vancouver and met the son of an Olympic Frenchman and Malaysian fashion designer. In his words … an ethnically diverse ski bum.

  The groom kissed the bride.

  My mom (working hard at kicking cancer’s ass) grabbed my dad’s hand as happy tears filled her eyes. On the opposite side of them were two empty seats with roses on them, for Lila’s parents, stripped too early from our lives after that fatal car accident. Somewhere, somehow, I had to believe they were watching with tears in their eyes and smiles on their faces. Their beautiful daughter had grown into a successful engineer and married a man who adored her.

  And just like that … life was absolutely perfect.

  “It’s over!” Lila declared on a huge sigh as I held her dress so she could pee before the reception. “I’m so fucking glad it’s over. Ya know? The past several months have been hell. I was getting to the point where I just wanted to sneak off and elope, giving the rest of the uppity Porter clan the middle finger. I hope we can settle into a normal marriage where we only have lunch with his family once a month. Is it wrong that all I want is to have Graham to myself for a while?”

  Her confession left me speechless. I thought she wanted the big wedding. Sure, I knew it was stressful, and Graham’s mom and aunt were driving her crazy, but elope? That was my MO.

  “You’re joking.” I handed her a wad of toilet paper as she tried to find her bared crotch, buried beneath layers of expensive satin and lace, to wipe herself.

  “No. In fact, if you want some advice from your best friend, run off and just marry Ronin. Don’t have a wedding.”

  “I did it.” Those three words flew out so quickly; I wasn’t even sure if I said them. But no one else was in the lounge with us, the fancy lounge in the guest wing of the Porter mansion. Wow! I didn’t realize how badly I needed to tell her, until it catapulted from my tongue.

  “You did what?” She stood and I guided her forward to keep her dress out of the toilet. After washing her hands, and maybe forgetting that I said those three words, she turned toward me. “Did what?”

  Nope. She remembered.

  “I uh …” Maybe it wasn’t such a good time to confess. The lineup of second, third, and fourth guesses congregated at the door to my conscience, waiting to offer alternative explanations for my comment. What if she wasn’t serious? After having my nipple in her mouth months earlier, I found myself second-guessing all her words, their meanings, and her intentions.

  “A million people are waiting for us. Out with it, Evelyn.”

  “It’s nothing.” I shook my head, looking over her shoulder to check my hair in the mirror. It was still in a lovely messy bun (Graham’s favorite). Toasts, dancing, and too much drinking wouldn’t bode well for it, but I’d deal with that later.

  “I said you should elope, and you said, ‘I did it.’ But you couldn’t have meant you eloped, so what did you do?”

  Geesh, she was relentless. Were we still talking about that? How could her mind snag on something as frivolous as my three-word confession on her wedding day?

  “Ronin and I got married on Christmas.”

  No big deal. I said it with a breeze, like requesting someone pass the salt.

  “Oh my gosh!” Her instant excitement fell dead at my feet, replaced with a confused expression. “Oh … you mean you’re getting married on Christmas. Right?” Her eyes narrowed as her head cocked to the side.

  “Got married. On Christmas. Two months ago. I didn’t want to spoil your wedding or take the spotlight. And we didn’t want a wedding. We just wanted to be married. So we did it. We had a minister marry us right outside of my house with my grandma, parents, and Ronin’s parents. Afterwards, we had a holiday brunch with them. They left. And we spent the rest of the day in bed—Mr. and Mrs. Alexander.” I gave her a toothy smile.

  Lila? Well, she didn’t even blink.

  I deflated and grimaced. “Please don’t be mad. I wasn’t going to tell you until all this wedding stuff was over and just a distant memory. Then you suggested we elope, and I’ve been dying to tell you because the day was so bittersweet without my best friend there, and—”

  Lila took two steps and pulled me in for a really tight hug. “I hate you and love you. I’m proud of you and pissed off at you. But …” She held me back at arm’s length. “Our friendship will survive this betrayal. And you’re the only one I trust to help me piss tonight, so I can’t unfriend you yet.”

  I bit back my grin, giving her the moment she needed to act upset with me. “And we’re secret lesbian lovers. Without me in your life, you’ll never have a quality threesome again.” I shrugged.

  After several blinks from her stoic expression, she turned toward the mirror and checked her makeup. “You know … I never bring that up. In fact, it was my idea to never bring that up again. Yet, you seem to slip it into certain conversations which makes me think you liked it more than you’d ever admit. Were you…” she looked up at my reflection in the mirror and smirked “…close to orgasming that night? Did my mouth on your breasts … my tongue ring flicking your nipples feel good, Evie?”

  Delivering my own smug smile, I let her have her moment. After all, it was her day. “No woman has ever made me feel the way you did, snookum.”

  “Is that sarcasm?”

  “You have guests waiting for you.” I opened the door. “Oh!” I jumped, not expecting Graham to be right there on the other side of it.

  “Evelyn.” He smiled like the Devil himself. I’m not sure I had ever seen such a deviant expression on his face. “I need a minute with my wife.”

  That made me smile. Wife. I liked hearing him refer to her as his wife. “I suppose you’ve earned it. By the way … I’m married.”

  I waited for his eyebrows to shoot up his forehead.

  “I know.” He glanced over my head at Lila, and his smile doubled.

  He k
new?

  What!

  Ronin couldn’t keep the secret. Traitor.

  “Of course, you did,” I grumbled. “Don’t be long. Your mom will have a coronary if things don’t stay on schedule.” I made my way toward the reception, texting Ronin.

  Me: I can’t believe you told Graham we got married!?

  Ronin: Why would you say that?

  Me: Because when I told him, he said he already knew.

  Ronin: I didn’t tell him. But clearly you did. He simply played you. He’s good at that.

  I grumbled, shaking my head. How was I supposed to respond to that?

  “Evelyn, dear. Have you seen the bride and groom?” Graham’s mom, Helene, asked as I reached the bottom of the stairs to the foyer.

  “Yes. I just helped her in the ladies’ room, and Graham showed up as I was leaving.”

  “Be a dear and tell them we’re ready to have them seated for the first toast.”

  I nodded, trying to be a dear. She hated me. Never understood why Graham kept me as such a close friend—me and my sick, broke parents.

  “Thank you.” She spun on her high heels and mounted her high horse to ride off and rule her rich little world.

  The door to the lounge slash bedroom suite was still cracked open like I left it minutes earlier. I eased it open a few more inches. Then I froze, my mouth agape nearly as wide as the door.

  “I own you now,” Graham murmured next to Lila’s ear as he fucked her from behind with her leaned over the back of a winged-back chair. Clearly, he wasn’t lying about that. Her dress was bunched at her waist, his pants pooled at his ankles. What looked like remnants or shredded pieces of her panties littered the floor a few feet from them.

  “Say it, baby.” He bit her ear as his hands cupped her breasts, pulled free from her strapless gown.

  She arched her back, releasing tiny grunts. I couldn’t read the expression on her face, the clenched teeth and cringe. Painful pleasure? Just pain? “You own me.”

  “You like me in your ass, don’t you?” He released her breasts, one hand grabbing her chin as he devoured her mouth, his other hand fishing beneath the front of her dress. She cried into his mouth as he plunged his fingers into her, filling her—owning her—in every possible way.