Take a Chance on Me (Baymoor Book 3) by D. A. Young (10)

Chapter Twenty-Three

 

 Annabelle drove along Main Street, and it was like time had stood still as she passed Fluidity Yoga and Pilates Studio, Atlantis Spa, various food trucks, and Serving Goddess, a full-service hair and nail salon. She sighed at the sight of brick and modern buildings designed in a mix of Federal, Victorian, and twentieth-century periods. The town square was still tree-lined with a mixture of magnolias, sycamores, bald cypress, and tulip poplar trees that were bare from winter.

She pulled Max’s truck into the only empty parking space in Feminine Intuition’s parking lot and gave a low approving whistle at the window mannequins dressed in sheer intimates, peeking from behind the diaphanous white lace curtains. Annabelle got out of the truck and entered the crowded Victorian style mint-green boutique. She was amazed to run right into Reverend Armisha Jackson and her lifelong frenemy, Esmeralda Gonzales.

“Is that really you, Annabelle Gaines?!” Armisha screamed, waving the risqué scarlet negligee in her hands around and causing all activity in the shop to halt. She tilted her head down to peer at Annabelle above the rims of her black square eyeglasses. Armisha shook her head incredulously and Annabelle took note that her fifty-pound, pineapple hairstyle dyed a warm honey-blonde didn’t even move as she answered her own question. “As I live and breathe, why yes, it is! Girl, get on over here and gimme some sugar! Essie! Look who it is!”

Mrs. Laurent shoved between the two women, and with a disapproving frown, she snatched the white lace garter out of Esmeralda’s hands and tossed it on the counter. “Put that damn garter belt down, Essie! You know Oswald has arthritis. It’ll be a bitch for him to pry off your thigh and bad for your poor blood circulation as well!”

Mrs. Laurent pressed both hands to her mouth as she looked Annabelle over. Apparently satisfied that she was none the worse for wear, she threw her arms open and rushed the young woman standing like a deer caught in headlights. “Girls, it really is her!”

“ANNABELLE!” The excited chorus was pitched loud enough to rattle the boutique’s windows and burst eardrums.

Annabelle found herself surrounded by a wave of pink velour and white easy steppers as the Spring Chickens swarmed her like locusts. Mind spinning, Annabelle’s senses were heavily assaulted by a mushroom perfume cloud consisting of White Diamonds, Rive Gauche, Chanel No.5, Estée Lauder Pleasures, Dior Poison, Opium, and Altoids as she was passed around like a ragdoll for greetings, hugs, and kisses while being subjected to their relentless interrogation. Even in the midst of it all, Annabelle noticed they all had bags of lingerie.

“Where have you been?”

“Did you join a cult?”

“Why did you just up and leave like that?”

“Did you leave Davis for another man?”

“Does your cult practice witchcraft? What about a dress code? Do they have a dress code??”

“Did you leave Davis for a woman?”

“We thought you were dead!”

“Why did Davis leave?”

“Maybe she is dead, and is a figment of our imagination?”

“Do you know where Davis is?”

“Is your cult by invitation only? Or can anyone join?”

“Have the two of you been in contact with each other?”

“What about snacks? Does your cult offer snacks?”

“Don’t forget wine! Do they serve wine?”

“I feel like she needs to be saved,” Fern Keetowah-Marquez, Feminine Intuition’s seamstress, observed sympathetically as she stood with Eliza and Georgina, watching the chaotic scene unfolding. They were keeping a healthy distance from the sea of Pepto-Bismol by standing on the other side of the large cash wrap and hugging the wall. “We all know that they come on like gangbusters! It’d be the right thing to do…”

Georgie nibbled on her thumbnail as she watched Annabelle wildly search for an escape route. Reluctantly, she conceded, “I suppose you’re right…”

“I’m pregnant, so count me out.” Eliza plopped down on the raspberry velvet settee and sipped her cup of decaffeinated ginger-lemon tea. “Me and my baby aren’t tangling with chickens today. No, ma’am! We just came to pick up my bridal trousseau. I’m good right here, yelling ‘stop, drop, and roll’.”

Georgina tsked her loudly. “How do you sleep at night? That baby has sucked away all of your compassion and morals. I bet your twisted soul can easily be bought.”

“Yup, and if the offer is tempting enough, you can stick a big fat ass bow on my forehead and gift wrap me as well.” Eliza waved her away with a big yawn. “Gurl, bye! Go on and save your bestie if you’re feeling bold enough.”

Georgie mulled over the scene before her then offered to Fern, “Rock, paper, scissors?” 

Fern gaped at her boss in horror as if Georgina had just demanded she sacrifice her children. “I don’t even know that stranger! Besides, I’m not trying to lose flava by getting all up in that mix!” She raised an eyebrow at Georgina. “Isn’t she your Day1?!”

Georgina glared at her while Eliza snickered. She treated them to a scathing look and squared her shoulders back. “In the words of the great Martin Luther King, ‘There is always time to do…’” Georgina’s shoulders dropped when she realized she couldn’t even sell it to herself. “Oh, hell, she’s perfectly fine! Look, she’s even waving at us!”

The women observed Annabelle jumping up and down, waving both hands at them as the Spring Chickens squawked around her and more came from the outside. “Woah! They’re multiplying like gremlins. Hmmm…that could be misconstrued as an S.O.S. signal, but I’m sure that’s just Annabelle’s excitement.”

Eliza craned her neck then slid further down on the settee. “I don’t think we should go over there and steal her limelight. This is her moment. It would be selfish of us to take it away from her.”

“I agree!” Georgina shrugged her shoulders with a crestfallen face. “I guess we’ll just have to console ourselves with the knowledge that we’ll get another chance to shine with them.”

“The two of you are unbelievable. And you’re right, fearless leader. It’s called karma,” Fern informed her sagely.

“Hush!” Georgina scolded her. “Come on; let’s use this downtime to restock the shelves and cash wrap.”

***

“Please believe I plan on getting all of you back!” Annabelle warned Eliza, Georgina, and Fern as she watched the seamstress package up her selections. Annabelle took a whiff of her clothing and winced. She was sure she was covered in every perfume spanning the last three decades. Day. Made. “I’m going to be just like that damned red balloon from “It” too, poppin’ up all over the place on the three of you!”

“You should just look at it as a Baymoor initiation, “Pepe Le Pew”,” Georgina laughed in Annabelle’s face as she waved her hand before her nose furiously. “You smell like how I imagine a Disney villainess would! Cheer up; at least they didn’t make you an honorary member!”

“Or rope you into a surprise strip show,” Eliza drawled, sharing a wicked look with Fern, who started giggling.

“Gurl, just be thankful all you got was love from that crew! They could have hoodwinked you into something outrageous,” Fern’s eyes were filled with admiration. “I must say, you weathered that storm smoothly.”

Feeling slightly mollified, Annabelle boasted, “I did, didn’t I? I know all their tricks, and they weren’t about to con me into anything! Although, I did agree to help them out with their fundraiser luncheon this Sunday after church since they asked so nicely.” She gathered her bags and slung her purse over her shoulder. “Thank you very much, ladies! I can’t say it’s been a real pleasure, but I will say I can’t wait for Graham to see me in this stuff!” Her eyes turned dreamy. “The way that man gets me going, and the things he can do with his…mmmph!”

“Gaaaah!” Eliza cringed, covering her mouth while Georgina looked distinctly queasy. “Why is she saying stuff like that?! Doesn’t she realize that we’re related to him??”

Seeing her chance to exact a little revenge, Annabelle kept going. Leaning forward with a conspiring look, she wiggled her eyebrows and added, “Just between us? In bed, I call your brother ‘Pyromaniac’ because he sets my body on fire every time he uses his—”

“If I ever needed proof they were made for each other, this is it,” Georgina muttered, holding her stomach with one hand and the counter with the other. “Seriously; twice in one day! Damn you, A.B.! I think I’m going to be sick.”

Annabelle smirked at them. “Karma be thy name. See you at the house, Georgie! Nice meeting you, Fern! Bye, Eliza!”

They watched her walk out and then get into Max’s truck, honking the horn as she drove away. With a puzzled look, Fern asked no one in particular, “Does she not know the exact details of that fundraiser?”

They looked at each other apprehensively before simultaneously saying, “Someone should tell her…”

***

Annabelle was unsure of what motivated her to do it. Perhaps she just wanted to see for herself what Edith had promised she’d do when finally freed of Brenton’s hold. So, here she was, sitting in front of the old Fowler estate in Max’s truck, fingers tapping anxiously on the wheel as she debated her next move. Did she get out of the truck? Or was seeing the rubble through the window and gate truly enough for her? Feeling overwhelmed, Annabelle covered the steering wheel with her arms and laid her head on it. Anxiety was boiling in her stomach, and she struggled to control it as her breathing became labored and her teeth gnashed together.

The memories were coming back, flashing so fast, Annabelle couldn’t block them all, and she was forced to relive the constant state of terror, frustration, and hopelessness she’d lived with, knowing how far the Fowlers reach went. Even in death, they were still trying to tie her to them.

Despite sitting in the heated truck and dressed in layers, Annabelle felt chilled to the bone. A self-pep talk of sorts was needed to get her going. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. The generous cab of the truck was becoming more compact with every breath she managed to wheeze, and Annabelle felt dizzy. She tried to lift her head, but it was dead weight and she couldn’t hear anything above her frenzied heartbeat. Panic was creeping in, and she needed to escape. She felt around for the door handle, located it, and feebly pulled, but nothing happened. The cab felt like a raging furnace and her own private hell to forever suffer in.

Sweat trickled from Annabelle’s forehead and slid down her nose. She watched one drop followed by another as if in slow motion to her jeans, leaving a spot that spread like the sickness Davis’s family was afflicted with. She needed to get out of this deathtrap! This time, when Annabelle yanked the on the car handle, it gave and she threw herself at the opening, inhaling large gulps of the crisp icy air, only to be snatched back making her scream with frustration. The goddamn seatbelt. Annabelle fumbled with the clasp and finally managed to undo it. She lurched again toward her freedom and would have fallen out of the truck onto her face if Wade hadn’t caught her.

“Easy, Doc, I got you,” he assured her gruffly as he helped her out of the truck and propped her up against the side of it. Wade pulled one of the handkerchiefs that Camille insisted he carry at all times and handed it to Annabelle before reaching into the truck and turning it off. “What are you doing here?”

Annabelle laughed shrilly as she wiped her face down, unable to meet his concerned blue eyes. “That’s a good question, Sheriff! Because what other prisoners do you know that go back to visit the place that tried to destroy them, right???” She twisted the handkerchief in her hands restlessly. “Do POWs go back to war camps? No! I’m the only genius orchestrating such a brilliant idea!”

Wade leaned next to her, keeping his eyes on the well-groomed street that was finally back to its normal state of peace and quiet since Edith left. The town had been frenzied with speculation that refused to die down when Annabelle, then Davis, disappeared out of the blue. But when Edith moved out of the estate that she’d lived in for thirty-four years and had it demolished, Baymoor lost its ever-lovin’ mind. Everyone from old to young had come to watch Gideon Green, Wade’s former high-school rival turned honorary uncle to Camille, and his family construction company, Grass is Greener, tear the place down.

While Wade, Max, and Nate looked on, they’d listened with stoic faces to the rumors and assumptions around them. It still sickened Wade to his stomach to discover the horrors and atrocities that occurred behind the wrought-iron gates on his watch. “I don’t think anything other than you’re extremely brave, Annabelle. You made a choice in the midst of a terrifying situation, for the safety of both you and your child. To be honest, I’m ashamed of myself, and I owe you an apology.”

She was puzzled. “Why would you owe me an apology, Wade? You didn’t do anything to me.”

Wade’s raked his fingers through his dirty blonde hair as his face settled into a fierce expression of self-loathing. “The hell I didn’t! I love Baymoor as much as you do or any one of its residents. In a town like this, it’s fucking impossible to not grow up side-by-side and hide shit from your neighbors!”

As his large hand swiped over his face and with eyes filled with sorrow, Wade explained himself. “As the sheriff, I should have seen what was happening to the town’s residents. It’s what I instruct my men to do. Get to know your neighbors. As your friend, I should have paid more attention. We all should have done more, but I was so caught up in excelling at bachelorhood that I couldn’t see what was so obviously in front of me.”

“Don’t do this, Wade,” Annabelle argued, curls flying about as she adamantly shook her head. “You were never supposed to! It was my burden to be that great of an actress. In my own sick and twisted way, I was even proud of the fact that no one could see me falling apart.”

“Jesus, Annabelle,” Wade bit out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose, fighting to quell his rising anger. “You should know that I take my job very seriously, but I’m fucking looking the other way when Graham gets his hands on that sonofabitch.”

Annabelle stewed over his words when suddenly something clicked. “How did you know I was here?”

She counted three shades of red that Wade turned before sheepishly admitting, “Graham asked me to keep an eye out for you while he was at the inn. He should be just about done. I’m surprised that he hasn’t called you yet.”

“He asked you to follow me?” Annabelle fumed. Hadn’t she just talked to his obstinate ass about this?

Wade shuffled his boots and gave her a wide smile. “Cut the crap, Annabelle. Don’t look at this as a protection detail. You’re family. This is what we do for one another. Now, are we gonna stand here disputing facts all day or get you some much-needed closure?”

Now that her attempted actions had a word, she wasn’t filled with dreaded trepidation. Closure. Annabelle straightened away from the car. “I think that’s exactly what I came here for. Let’s do it, Wade.”

They walked the short distance to the gated entrance and stood before it. At last, Annabelle was able to survey the rubble and debris that remained of where the four thousand square ft. purgatory asylum had once stood. The pool house was also gone, as was the pool. The only thing that remained was a tree fort.

“Do you know if Edith is going to rebuild here when she returns?” Wade asked with some curiosity.

“She’s not rebuilding a home,” Annabelle spoke softly as she looked around, feeling unsettled. “Edith plans on knocking down the walls and making it a public park. She says it’s time for the sun to shine and drive out the darkness.”

She’d seen enough. Despite everything being gone, Annabelle still felt the evil lingering behind the walls. The sooner her bonus mom set her plans in motion the better. “I think I’m good now, Wade. Thank you.”

“So, where are you headed now?” Wade fished as he walked her back to the truck.

“None of yours or my honey’s business,” she responded tartly as she opened the driver’s door. “Tell him I said that he and I are going to have words when I see him. Oh, and Wade?”

“Yeah, Doc?”

“Congratulations on your upcoming wedding. Eliza and Camille are wonderful, and you’re no slouch either,” Annabelle waved at him as she started the truck. “Don’t forget to tell Graham what I said.”

“Thank you, Annabelle, and no, I won’t forget”, Wade chuckled then made sure she was safely on her way before using his walkie-talkie. “I’ve been made. Let Officer Baker know she’s headed west on Derby Avenue toward Main Street in Farmer Hayes’s truck. Baker’s in his own vehicle, correct Ida?”

“Copy that, Sheriff. Yes, Ted is in his Ford-150. I’ll let him know to fall in line.”

Wade pulled out his cell and dialed Graham.

“Speak on it, fool.”

Wade snorted at the greeting. “I’d rather be a fool than in the dog house like your ass. Got a message for you from Doc. She didn’t appreciate me tailing her and will be having words with your pussy-whupped ass when she sees you.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end before Graham gave a bark of laughter. “I look forward to communicating with her. Thanks, man.”

“That’s it? You’re not even going to comment on my name calling?” Wade couldn’t believe how unfazed Graham was about his name calling. His future brother-in-law never passed up an opportunity to give him or Max shit.

“Ayyyee, man, there are worse things to be for a beautiful woman,” Graham said seriously. “Now, if you don’t mind, Daddy’s got more important things to do than school your rookie ass on the opposite sex, son.”

“Bite me.”

 

Chapter Twenty-Four

 

This time Annabelle knew exactly where she was going and why. She turned off Main Street and down Sycamore Drive where there was hardly any traffic and drove half a mile before pulling into an empty parking lot. There sat a small red and white store with a faded silver rocket logo shooting skyward on top of it. The blinking letters underneath it would have read Gas ‘N’ Go if the S and O hadn’t fallen off. The windows still displayed festive holiday paint even though Valentine’s Day was just around the corner.

Annabelle turned off the ignition and stiffened with steely resolve. Her parents’ betrayal that she’d never confronted them with was still a bitter pill to swallow. Annabelle needed the closure if they were going to live in the same town. Before she could open the truck door, the doors to the Gas ‘N’ Go slid open, and her father stepped out and their eyes met.

Time stood still as they evaluated the changes the past few years had brought them. Annabelle’s father had always been neat and preppy-looking with a ready smile that sparkled and was accentuated by the sable complexion he shared with his daughter. The saying ‘black don’t crack’ did not apply to Thomas, who appeared to have aged twenty years since Annabelle had last seen him. He was grizzled like a wild man. Thomas’s normally neat-trimmed low fade had grown into an afro streaked heavily with white, and his clean-shaven jaw was now covered by a long, unruly beard that reached mid chest on the denim overalls now covering his gaunt six-foot frame. His bloodshot eyes were wide with astonishment to see her, but he blinked and it was interchanged with some unreadable emotion that burned brightly in his otherwise dull and lifeless eyes.

Annabelle waited, giving him a chance to say anything or even apologize for his part in deceiving her, but Thomas remained mute and motionless as if unable to believe she wasn’t an apparition. One minute passed. Then another two, as their eyes remained locked on one another. Nothing from him. To hell with it. Even if he was too cowardly to say shit, Annabelle needed to unburden herself of the fucktivity she’d allowed her parents to embitter her soul with. She flung the door open, and the action brought Thomas out of his stupefied trance. He lunged forward, arm out in protest, shouting, “No, Annabelle!!! You’re not welcome here!!!”

She recoiled as if he’d struck her. It was a verbal attack, but the words rained just like punishing blows, nonetheless, and for a moment, Annabelle felt defenseless all over again. Then she remembered exactly who was in the wrong here and got out anyway to confront her Judas of a father. Writhing with anger, Annabelle derided, “You dare to say that to me after you and Mama betrayed me?! Do you even know what that monster did to me that night??? Everything I suffered due to your selfish actions?!”

Her father retreated a step, head hanging in shame for a moment before his self-righteous indignation kicked in. Forcefully, he thrust his finger in her face, snarling, “Don’t stand here and lie to me, Annabelle! You cost us everything we worked for! We tried to make a good life for you, and all you did was throw our efforts back in our face! Your mother can’t even leave the house because you humiliated and ruined her. Just looking at you makes my skin crawl!” With contempt, Thomas spit on her boots. “Now, are you going to leave on your own or will I have to call Sheriff Holloway to escort you outta here?”

No, this motherfucker didn’t.

Annabelle couldn’t breathe in the face of his audacity. Not one iota of remorse or love for his only child to be found in his cold brown eyes. She snapped. There was no other way to put it. Knocking his hand out of her face, Annabelle took advantage of his surprise to throw a punch, hitting him in the eye. She followed it with a shove so forceful, Thomas stumbled back as he covered his injury. Her fury was navigating Annabelle as she shoved him again and swung on him, connecting with the center of his chest as she hissed, “I hate you! I hate the both of you! Hell is too good a place for you both to rot!”

Thomas did nothing to defend himself, and realizing he wouldn’t, Annabelle slapped him across the face, causing his head to jerk back from the blow as she declared in a raw voice, “You people are dead to me! Do you hear me?! DEAD.”

She refused to give him the satisfaction of crumbling. Turning her back to him, Annabelle opened the truck and started it. Not once did she look at him again as she drove off his property. Her phone was ringing, but she didn’t even pull it out to check it. Annabelle was numb from the pain. She drove in a catatonic state, not even noticing the Ford F-150 slowly trailing her.

***

Something was wrong.

They were supposed to meet for lunch here at the inn, but Annabelle wasn’t answering Graham’s phone calls. It didn’t matter what she was doing, Annabelle always took his call and vice versa. Graham’s instincts were telling him to drop what he was doing and go find her, despite knowing she had a detail that hadn’t alerted him to any red flags.

“I got the dough for the pancetta-gruyere puff pastry melts ready, Chef,” Mario informed him. “Are we still doing the roasted tomato-basil soup with it?”

“Yes, along with the cannoli layer cake. Why don’t you start on the cake?” Graham pocketed his keys, removed his apron, and pulled his beanie from his back pocket. “I’m headed to town, but I’ll be back in time to start the soup.”

“Got it, Chef.” 

On the way, Graham called Wade and wasted no time with a greeting. “Where is Annabelle?! I’m trying to call her, but she’s not answering! Talk to me, Wade.”

“Calm down, brother. Annabelle is fine. I’ve got Baker trailing her, and he reported that she’s just sitting in the park overlooking the elementary school,” Wade said soothingly. “He can see her, but if it makes you feel better, I’ll head over myself.”

Sighing with relief, Graham replied, “Yeah, if you could. Don’t let her outta your sight; I’m on my way.”

“Damn, you’ve got it bad.”

“Bye, fool.”

Laughing, Wade said, “Hang on a second. She did stop by the Gas ‘N’ Go before heading to the park.”

A sense of foreboding filled Graham, and he stepped on the gas. “Call me when you get there, Wade.”

Graham recalled his last conversation with her parent’s months ago. They’d been vague and distant at best, unwilling to speak on their daughter’s behalf. After what Annabelle revealed in their late-night Skype sessions, Graham knew it was best if they just stay as far as fucking possible from him. But she’d gone to see them? No good had come of it, of that Graham was certain.

***

The drive took Annabelle to Haven Park, named after Baymoor’s founders, former slaves, and brothers, James and Tyson Haven. She got out of the car and blindly walked to the nearest unoccupied park bench. Below the hill of the park, she could see the elementary children playing while at recess. For a moment, Annabelle wished she were one of them, innocent without a care in the world. But then she’d also still be in the dark about her parent’s true mercenary nature.

Annabelle pulled her wallet out and removed the picture that she carried with her of Rory as a newborn. Lovingly, her fingers traced her baby girl’s features. “I’ll never do that to you, sweet girl.”

The betrayal felt brand new all over again, but this time even more devastating if that were possible. Her vision swam from the tears gathering, and Annabelle could no longer hold it in. She cried because the force it took to keep the tears at bay was exhausting her. They fell like sheeted rain all over Rory’s picture, and Annabelle was so immersed in her anguish that she didn’t even notice anyone approaching her.

She was startled when a wad of napkins was thrust into her face. “Storms are meant to show how resilient you are, not break you, girl. Whatever you’re going through will pass. Just keep your head up. At least that’s what my sponsor says.”

Accepting the napkins from the stranger warily, Annabelle wiped her face, grimacing at the makeup she’d wiped off before noisily blowing her nose. “Thanks. I think.”

Annabelle got her first look at her uninvited therapist. She was an older black woman with a slender build. Her eyes were brown and spoke of a hard life; her cinnamon brown skin had faded scarring. A rainbow striped beanie covered her head, and she wore a red pea coat over a baggy gray sweat suit. A sense of déjà vu overcame Annabelle. Had they met before? Or was she just new to Baymoor?

“I don’t know what you were boohooing about, but unless you were thinking about ending your life, then it wasn’t shit.” The woman pointed at the tear-stained pic of Rory. “That your baby? She’s a pretty little thang. You don’t mind if I sit, do you?”

She was already making herself comfortable before Annabelle answered, so she snatched the photo up and put it away as the woman pulled a to-go bag out of her patchwork tote. She opened her takeout carton to reveal a patty melt and onion rings. “Want some?”

The aroma was tempting, but Annabelle remembered she was meeting Graham for lunch. “No go ahead and enjoy it. I have to be going anyways.”

Ingrid hated to see the young woman go. She had no friends here in her hometown where she’d once been extremely popular. “Without telling me, what you were upset about?”

“Sorry, I’m not about to spill my guts to you because you caught me in a moment of weakness.” Annabelle held up the soiled napkins. “But thanks for these.”

“Honey, if that was a moment of weakness for you, then be grateful. Put that miniscule bullshit behind you and keep it moving,” Ingrid bluntly told Annabelle. “I had a moment of weakness that lasted forty-three and a half years and cost me everything. Sit for a moment.”

“You don’t pull any punches, do you?” Hesitation flitted over the pretty woman’s face. “Are you sure? I don’t want to disturb your lunch.”

“Did you not just hear me say how much time I’ve already wasted with this one life we’re given? Don’t mind me; I’m here every day. You take your time.” Ingrid’s eyes moved to the playground, searching until she located her granddaughter. Camille was jump-roping with her twin cousins on her father’s side. Since coming here on her breaks, Ingrid had discovered Camille’s recess time and made it a point to also take her breaks then. It was the only time she had Camille to herself and could enjoy her with an unobstructed view. Any other time, she had family members flanking her at all times to deter Ingrid from approaching her. “You didn’t answer any of my questions.”

“Nosy, much?” Annabelle muttered, but the woman didn’t respond. “If you must know, I was crying because I was disappointed again by my par-” She corrected herself. “Forget it. I guess I have only myself to blame for what happened today.”

The woman looked toward the playground, clueless to Ingrid’s sudden mood change and the smashed patty melt in her fist. Of course, the one individual in town who wasn’t looking at her like she was pond scum and willing to talk to her had parental issues. There was no escaping her past. Ingrid was learning that lesson the hard way. As if she’d conjured them up, the urges for drugs that were never far away, beckoned to her. They played to the fact that she was a pathetic bitch whose immune system was a gradual work in progress. She would never be able to take any kinds of drugs or be in the same room with them or someone doing them, and Ingrid was slowly making peace with that.

“I know what it’s like to be a disappointment,” she finally said. “To be such a sorry excuse of a human being that I tainted those around me.” Ingrid focused on Camille hanging upside down on the monkey bars. Honesty and ownership was part of her rehabilitation process, no matter how hard. “Now, this is the part where I admit that I didn’t give a fuck. Not about anyone hurt by my actions or those who cared about me. I was only fixated on making myself feel better by any means necessary. Anyone not on my agenda couldn’t do a damn thing for me and needed to stay the fuck outta my way.

My actions and behavior destroyed my relationships around me and still, I couldn’t bring myself to care. I didn’t care that I had three beautiful kids and jeopardized their lives on a daily basis. I didn’t care that my parents and brother were begging me to come home and help me turn my life around. All I cared about were drugs and fucking men to get more drugs. I wasted my life away.” Ingrid stared down at the crushed sandwich in her hand, not even realizing that she’d been treating it like a stress ball. 

“But you seem like a good person, so find a way to get past whatever it was that they did. Don’t let that shit define you. My kids turned out nothing like me or their daddy. They are successful, kind-hearted, well-liked and respected people who can hold their heads up despite the constant ringers I put them through.”

Appetite gone, Ingrid tossed her ruined sandwich back in the carton and pulled out some more napkins and wiped her hands clean. “They are everything I wish I was brave enough to be, except my demons hate the idea of growth.”

Her speech held Annabelle captivated, and she could now understand the woman’s no holds barred attitude. This woman was admitting to being a world-class fuckup and made no apologies about it. She wasn’t laying the blame at anyone else’s feet, no matter how harsh her truth. Her face was filled with self-incrimination and loathing, and it made Annabelle wonder what her kids thought of her now.

No way. It wasn’t possible.

Could you be any slower, Gaines? Annabelle mocked herself. Stupid! Stupid! Stuuupid! Wouldn’t Graham have told me?

Her mind was racing through all of her conversations with him, Eliza, and Georgie. Not one of them had mentioned Ingrid living here in Baymoor. The reason why was swift in its forthcoming.

Because Ingrid was irrelevant to them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Five

 

Annabelle was torn between introducing herself and beating the shit out of her for what she’d done to her new family.

“Judging by your facial expression, I’ll assume you’ve figured out my identity,” Ingrid said nervously as her eyes drifted over Annabelle’s shoulder. “You’ve got perfect timing too… uh...”

“My name is Annabelle Gaines, and I’m in love with your son,” she responded firmly.

Annabelle turned to see what Ingrid was staring at and found Graham and Wade headed their way, eyes filled with thinly veiled hostility as they focused on Ingrid. She gave a small wave. “Hi, Guys. What are you doing here, babe?”

“Annabelle.” The deep rumble of Graham’s voice let Annabelle know her man was displeased at this turn of events. There was a storm brewing in his eyes that suggested she take shelter before it was unleashed. “I was concerned when you didn’t answer your phone.”

“Awww, and you came looking for me! That’s so sweet of you.” She stood up and tossed the napkins into the trashcan, then rose on tiptoe to kiss his mouth that was set in a hard uncompromising line. Into his ear, she whispered, “Please don’t be like this. Everything is fine.”

But he chose to ignore her plea. “Would you excuse us, Doc?”

She looked from his and Wade’s grim faces to Ingrid’s subdued stance. “No, I don’t think I will, Mr. Carlton.” Annabelle slipped her arm through his and tried to draw him away with a beguiling smile. “You owe me lunch and I’m looking forward to it. Let’s get out of here. I need to tell you about my day so far.”

“And we’ll get to that just as soon as I’m done here,” Graham explained through gnashed teeth, knowing damn well what she was trying to do.

“Are you spying on Camille?” Wade inquired of Ingrid coolly. His blue eyes were frosted over, but there was an underlying savagery that as a parent, was his God-given right to unleash if there was a threat. He glanced at his watch. “Her last recess ended less than ten minutes ago, and this bench overlooks the playground.”

“What I was doing was minding my own business, Sheriff,” Ingrid retorted. “There’s no law that says I can’t be here, is there?”

“No, ma’am there isn’t.” Wade’s smile was razor sharp, warning Ingrid to tread lightly. “But you’re not talking to a lawman right now. You’re dealing with a concerned parent, who’s reiterating a warning. Keep your distance from my daughter. This distance isn’t enough for me.” He noticed her food. “This does seem like an ideal spot to have lunch every day. I guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, ma’am.”

Wade tipped his hat at Ingrid then Annabelle in goodbye. “Can I have a moment of your time, Doc? I wanted to discuss the pros and cons of getting a pet skunk for Camille.”

Annabelle stomped her foot in vexation. “Cut it out! Your ass isn’t crazy enough to pull a stunt like that!”

“Maybe I am. Can you guess who the town will blame if I’m not properly cautioned on the perils of owning one?”

“You should go,” Ingrid recommended to Annabelle. “Graham has something to say to me, and I’d actually prefer not having an audience.” She smiled genuinely at Annabelle, who’d earned a lifetime of gratitude from her for attempting to spare her the verbal assault Ingrid knew Graham would be handing her. She could feel his anger like a fist around her neck, strangling her. “Just remember what I said; you’ll be okay in the end.”

Uneasily, Annabelle glanced at Graham, who’d yet to make eye contact with her. She squeezed his hand but was unable to garner a response. Annabelle smiled at Ingrid. “Thank you for the advice. Take care of yourself.”

Graham shoved his hands in the pockets of his black leather bomber jacket and remained silently evaluating Ingrid as he listened to the sound of leaves crunching as Annabelle and Wade retreated. He prolonged the quiet to get his unstable emotions in check. The sight of Annabelle’s and Ingrid’s tête-à-tête didn’t sit well with him at all, and both women knew it. Not only that, but the bitch was giving his woman advice too?

Ingrid was drowning in waves of shame at ever confusing Graham with Russell. He was a good man who knew how to respect and treat the opposite sex well.

“I didn’t know she was associated with you,” Ingrid began. “You have excellent taste. Annabelle is a sweet young lady.”

“Are you supposed to be some kind of life coach now?” Graham asked sardonically. “You’re the last person qualified to give anyone advice, Ingrid.”

“I’m also the first person to be used as a bad example, Graham. Annabelle was upset, and I urged her to confide in me—”

Graham brusquely interrupted her. “Stay away from her. She knows our history, but I’ll be sure to remind her again about why having you in anyone’s life is just a setup for trouble.”

“I’m not that person anymore! I’ve changed, Graham. I swear it!” Ingrid protested.

“I hope so because you’re all you got, so you better get yourself straight.”

“I’m so sorry for what I did to the three of you,” she whispered, fiddling with the tortoiseshell buttons of her pea coat. Ingrid tried to look him in the eyes, but it was hard to when his were filled with such scathing condemnation. “I wish that I could take it all back—”

His hand made a sharp, precise, slashing motion, that had it been a knife would have sliced Ingrid’s head off cleanly. “DON’T.” Enraged at his slipping composure, Graham slid his hand back into his pocket, furious that she’d made him lose control. “I don’t want or care about your apologies and neither do my sisters. We just want you to stay out of our lives. If you choose to stay here in Baymoor, that’s fine. We won’t bother you, and you need to do the same and keep your distance from us and our families.”

“And if I want more than that? If I want the chance to prove myself worthy?” Ingrid rubbed at her temple, trying to drive back the familiar urges that were conjured up by Graham’s rejection. Sweat broke out on her forehead, and Ingrid swiped it clean with her arm as she challenged him. “What will you do then, Graham? Will you block me at every turn?”

“No, I’d simply kill you,” Graham answered nonchalantly. He smiled at her astonished look. “Why do you look so surprised? I’d do anything to protect our peace. You gave us enough hell to last ten lifetimes. Now, we’re supposed to just let you in? Why? Because you finally completed a full stint in rehab after being a junkie for over four decades?”

“You’re bluffing.” Ingrid took a step back then another but stilled as Graham tracked her movement like a predator toying with its prey, ready to pounce. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Shall we put it to the test?” he probed silkily, eyes glowing with the expectation of her defiance. Although his stance was casual and relaxed, his energy had channeled into something distinctly more sinister. “Do you know how easily you could disappear? Who in this town would blink twice at your if that happened?” Graham let her marinate on his words for a minute. “You have no relevance in our lives, Ingrid. Accept it, move on, and start fresh.”

Graham turned to walk away but stopped to say, “Oh, and consider yourself lucky. I normally don’t give warnings, but you’ve gotten two out of me.” 

***

Annabelle was waiting for him by Max’s truck, concern and aggravation stamped all over her face. Not trusting himself to speak just yet, Graham could only nod his thanks at Wade, who immediately took off. “Are you okay, Mr. Carlton?”

Instead of answering her, Graham flattened her against the truck by pressing into her with his body as he slammed his lips down on hers in a kiss meant to dominate and assert his will over her. Annabelle moaned into his mouth as his tongue plundered hers in bold sweeping gestures that demanded her complete surrender. She acquiesced, wrapping her arms around his neck and molding herself to him because Annabelle loved this man like no other, and her body had a mind of its own when it came to him. As for her heart, Graham already owned it, so resistance was pointless.

Feeling his wrath, Annabelle broke contact to pepper loving kisses all over his face as she repeatedly whispered, “I love you, Graham.”

She didn’t stop until his body relaxed. Only then did Annabelle kiss him fully, easing her tongue between his lips, teasing and driving Graham delirious with her sweet taste and silky-soft lips. His hands wrapped around her, and he lifted her onto the hood, sliding between her thighs as the kisses continued. Annabelle’s curls fell around them, shrouding them in coconut-scented softness. “I love you, Doc. So fucking much! You and Rory are my world.” Annabelle whimpered as he worried her bottom lip between his teeth then sucked on it slowly. “I’d fucking die if anything bad happened to either one of you, baby. You gotta know that, right, Doc?”

Annabelle slid his beanie off to run her nails over his smooth bald head, licking the corner of his lips and nuzzling his beard with her nose before he captured her lips again. Graham’s hands unbuttoned her coat so that he could cup her breasts and tease Annabelle’s turgid nipples. Her body was aching for release and if Graham suggested fucking her on the hood of her employer’s truck, Annabelle would get naked and spread eagle for his affection.

“Baby, I feel the exact same way. You and Rory are everything to me,” Annabelle sighed as he caressed her swollen peaks and she thrust herself deeper into his palms.

Reluctantly, they released each other at the crunching sound of incoming footsteps on the trail. They nodded a greeting at the two young men who ran by on the jogging trail and waved at them.

“I don’t want you talking to her again, Doc.”

Annabelle whipped her head back to him. “Excuse me?”

“I didn’t stutter, but I don’t mind repeating myself to make sure we’re on the same page of the same book.” Graham was unrepentant in the face of Annabelle’s escalating irritation and the fact that she looked like she wanted to body slam his ass. “I don’t want you talking to Ingrid or involving yourself in anything that concerns her. She’s my problem, not yours.”

“I see; because you’re the only one in this relationship who decides what’s best for both of us, correct?” Annabelle, bristling at his high-handedness, closed her legs, forcing him to back up as she squeezed him out.

“No, it’s because you’re naïve, and deceiving people is a skill Ingrid’s honed to perfection. I grew up with that woman and people don’t change, Doc,” Graham replied harshly. “You didn’t notice her jonesing?”

“No, I guess I was too busy being naïve, deaf, and dumb to notice,” Annabelle fumed, stung by his comments. “Maybe if I was a super robo-fucking-cop with intel experience like the almighty Graham Carlton then I would have picked up on it!” she snarked, crossing her arms defensively. “Of course, I noticed! She’s probably going to be like that for the rest of her life, Graham!”

“Exactly,” Graham said pointedly. “I don’t want Ingrid in our lives or to be affiliated with her in any way. I especially don’t want her around babygirl. This is non-negotiable for me.”

Annabelle held a hand up. “Would you just stop it? I understand where you’re coming from and the logic behind your reasoning, but I’m done letting people tell me what to do, Graham Carlton! I know what you, Eliza, and Georgie have been through, baby. I also know I will not allow anyone to dictate my speech or movements ever again. If I choose to speak to whomever, then I will do so. Are we clear on that?”

She was infuriating him to no end, and it was making him crazy. He needed an outlet for his anger. Yes, he respected her standing her ground but they were talking about Ingrid. He would not unbend when it came to her. “Yeah, Doc. We’re real fucking clear on where we stand on this. Let’s go get you fed.”

From behind a row of oakleaf hydrangea bushes, Ingrid watched them walk away, feeling a spark of hope.

***

N-now th-that that don't kill me
Can only make me stronger
I need you to hurry up now
'Cause I can't wait much longer
I know I got to be right now
'Cause I can't get much wronger

Thump! Thump! Thump!

“How much longer, Uncle Graham? You said we’d play chess before I went home, and Mom and Dad are almost ready to go,” Camille reminded him from where she was sitting cross-legged against the mirrored wall in front of Graham. Kanye’s West’s PG version of “Stronger” pulsated through the ceiling speakers while Graham worked out. She watched as her uncle pummeled the speedball in rapid succession before switching to the punching bag with sharp jabs then back to the speedball again.

Let's get lost tonight
You could be my black Kate Moss tonight
Play secretary, I'm the boss tonight
 

This shit wasn’t working, Graham thought with frustration as he went harder on the speedball. Ever since he’d first put gloves on, Graham had loved boxing. It was the perfect remedy to channel all of his pent-up emotions and aggressions and had always worked. Until now.

“Are you and Ms. Annabelle fighting?”

Yes.

“Nah. What makes you say that, Big C?” Graham stopped boxing long enough to give her a slick look. “Ayyyee, you ain’t fooling anybody. I said chess after you sparred. On your feet.”

Camille gave one of her put-upon, grown-up sighs and pushed herself up. “Fine; if you insist. The reason I asked was that the two of you have barely said anything to each other for the last two days except when you’re Skyping with Rory. Usually, the two of you are making goo-goo eyes like everyone else in this family. It was so obvious, and I think you should try to make up. You’re not getting any younger, you know. Last year, I heard Grandma, Mom, and Aunt Georgie say if you hadn’t been too busy indulging in quantity over quality, you’d be settled down by now.”

Graham dropped his fists and held out his gloves for her to unlace. When Camille was done, she helped him to pull them off, and then Graham helped her put on the gloves he’d bought her. “I noticed they said that to you but couldn’t come say it to your favorite uncle’s face, could they?”

Camille side-eyed him. “’Cause you were going to do what?”

“Not a darned thing, lil mama,” Graham laughed as he finished lacing her gloves up. “Are you excited about the wedding? In four days, everything will be official, and your by-the-book brain can finally be at ease.”

He grabbed the hook and jab pads, slid them on, and clapped them together. “Now, let’s get it, Big C!”

Annabelle watched from the doorway as Graham coached Camille on her technique. He was patient but a firm instructor, and Camille was pretty good, listening to what her uncle said and moving her feet accordingly. She just knew that when the time came, he’d have Rory in gloves too. Hopefully, they’d be speaking to each other by then. Her eyes followed the sinewy lines of his sexy body covered in sweat. His white tank top was soaked through, proof of the effort that he’d exerted.

Annabelle knew what he was doing and loved him even more for it. They needed a breather, and he was true to his word about not going anywhere, but Annabelle missed him severely. Yes, they still ate together and hung out with their friends, but she missed the closeness of being surrounded by him and snuggling into his body, listening to his heartbeat. The only time things were normal was when they Skyped with Rory and Edith. Tonight, Annabelle could see that Rory was growing restless and missed the both of them. It was the reason she now sought him out.

“You need something, Doc?” He didn’t look away from Camille as he addressed Annabelle.

“Umm, when you have a minute, I wanted to discuss something with you,” Annabelle answered as she watched his arm muscles coil then retract as he moved the pads.

“He’s got a minute right now.” Camille thrust her hands at her uncle with raised eyebrows that said he better make shit right.

“And here I was, thinking I’m your fave,” Graham muttered good-naturedly as he leaned down.

“You are my fave; that’s why I’m trying to get you down the aisle, Uncle Graham,” Camille explained patiently, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “Later!”

To Annabelle, she grinned impishly, “Good night, Ms. Annabelle.”

“Good night, baby,” she said and hugged Camille, watching as the little girl skipped down the long hallway. Annabelle just knew that Rory would adore her.

“What’d you want to talk about?”

Annabelle jumped at the deep husky voice in her ear that woke her body from its slumber. She turned to find Graham playing space invader as his eyes bore into hers. He used a white towel to wipe his face, and Annabelle gulped as the scent of his sweat and cologne mingled together, making her mouth water while her heart beat erratically at his nearness. She felt like a vampire, hungry for a taste of him.

“Doc?”

“I wanted to discuss Rory!” Annabelle blurted out and saw the flicker of disappointment in his before it dissolved. “She misses us, and I want to go see her.”

Graham was disappointed that she didn’t want to discuss them, but her concern had merit and had been on his mind as well as their situation. “I was thinking about that as well. Why don’t we take off after the wedding?”

Annabelle’s smile was bright enough to rival the sun. “I’d love to. I miss them and there’s been no sign of Davis. I’ve reactivated and opened social media accounts and have been posting like crazy but there have been no attempts at contact.”

Graham didn’t bother admitting he was aware of that fact because he was tracking all her accounts for Fowler as well. No sense in adding fuel to the fire. As soon as he was six feet under, then Graham would stop tracking.

“I understand your frustration but there’s nothing. Too much of nothing.”

Everyone was coming up empty-handed. Graham, Darby’s men as well as Alexei’s. They even had bounty hunters looking but there was no bounty to be found.

Annabelle looked so defeated that Graham wanted to pull her into his arms. But he couldn’t because as always, his body was primed and ready to fuck her. If she even touched him, it was on. Against the gym door, the mirror, Annabelle on all fours on the mat, and then bent over his workout bench.

“Graham.”

His name was a huskily whispered plea, informing him that Annabelle wanted him to follow through on the sinful thoughts reflected in his eyes. It almost broke him. Graham knew how ready she’d be for him. He knew that he wouldn’t even have to bother with foreplay, she was that aroused. Yeah, right. Like he wasn’t going to put his pussy on his tongue as soon as Annabelle came to her senses.

“Annabelle, you ready?” Georgie called from down the hallway. “You’ve got a big day tomorrow!”

“Be right there!”

“What’s going on tomorrow?”

“Umm, after church I’m helping the Spring Chickens with their fundraising luncheon.” Pathetic. That was the only word to describe the way she’d practically begged Graham to give in to their desire. “I should go. Goodnight, Mr. Carlton.”

Graham’s hooded eyes dropped to her pouty lips and lingered before he stepped back.

“Sleep tight, Doc.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Six

 

The large white tent behind the town square pavilion was packed as Annabelle made her way through to find Mrs. Laurent. She found her at the back, lecturing her granddaughter Farah on the length of her skirt.

“It’s not that short, Grand’Mere!” Farah sulked while discreetly tugging on her black miniskirt.

“I beg to differ, dear.” Mrs. Laurent touched her granddaughter’s long platinum locs then tapped her darker roots. “If these weren’t an indication that you weren’t a real blonde, as soon as you try to bend over, the entire town will know. Go find some tights before your va-jay-jay turns into an igloo!”

Farah stormed past Annabelle with barely a greeting. “Is this a bad time, Mrs. L?”

“Annabelle, you made it!” she beamed as her eyes scanned Annabelle’s merlot, knee-length fitted sheath that she’d paired with black pumps. “You look stunning, my dear! Why don’t you go see Ida for your name tag then meet me at the tent entrance by the pavilion?”

No sooner had she walked off that Annabelle was jerked to the side by Kenya and Chelsea, who spoke first. “Annabelle, I’m going to ask you this in the nicest way possible. Precisely what are you trying to accomplish by being here? That fine, bronzed-dipped God you have ain’t laying it down right?”

“Please say it ain’t so, gurl,” Kenya pleaded desperately, clasping her hands together. “Rodney and I allow ourselves one fantasy. His is Olivia Newton-John. Don’t ask; it’s an Aussie thing. Although, in my opinion, he should have gone for Kylie Minogue …”

“And who was yours, Kenny?” Chelsea asked innocently, which earned her a pinch on the arm from Kenya.

Turning to Annabelle, Kenya winced as she explained, “To be fair, I said was, Annabelle.”

“You fantasize about my man?! Biiitch!”

“Don’t be mad at me for having good taste! Besides, it’s not like I’m the only one. Look around you! Why do you think everyone is so dressed up? Max and Wade are off the market! Who’s left?”

Annabelle was confused as she surveyed the room of well-dressed women. “I thought this was a general auction fundraiser, and we were presenting the items?”

“Oh, good, you’re still here!” Georgie exclaimed as she ran up to them with a wicker basket. “You left without your prize today, so we thought we’d come and bring it to you.”

Eliza touched Annabelle’s sleek blowout. “I’m loving your outfit and this hairstyle!”

Fern, who was hiding behind Eliza gave a timid wave. “Hey, Annabelle. Looking good.”

“What’s going on? Somebody needs to explain this to me right now!” Annabelle demanded, pointing at the basket.

Before they could react, Mrs. Laurent’s voice was booming into a microphone.

“Welcome to Baymoor’s First Valentine’s Charity Picnic Auction! My goodness, this is quite the turnout and all for a great cause! All proceeds today will go to Baymoor Hospital’s Pediatric Wing, so the Spring Chickens would like to thank you in advance for your generosity!

Gentlemen, I ask that you keep your hearts purer than your thoughts and think of the children when bidding and opening up your wallets! Are you ready to get started???”

The resounding chorus of cheers and agreements was deafening and sent chills down Annabelle’s spine. She targeted Eliza, Georgie, and Fern in her sights, and the trio squirmed under her wrath. “You knew!”

“You said they couldn’t pull a fast one on you,” Fern replied weakly. “And it is for a good cause…”

“Do it for the kids,” Eliza added with a straight face, eyes full of amusement.

Ida hurried up and grabbed Annabelle’s hand and then the basket from Georgie. She shoved it into Annabelle’s hands while pinning a badge on her chest. “Look alive, Annabelle! You’re up first!”

“But—”

It was the only thing she could get out before Ida dragged her toward the tent opening.

“Our first basket is brought to you by a lovely young woman who’s been gone on a journey of self-discovery that’s taken her all over the world.” Mrs. Laurent lowered her voice to a whisper shrouded in mystery, “Some say she’s spent the last few years studying and perfecting the Kama Sutra with various masters, in turn, becoming one herself and passing on her extensive knowledge to eager and willing students.”

“WHAT?!” Annabelle screeched as the other women around her drew in a scandalous breath. “Has she lost her fucking mind?”

Ida shushed her. “Well, you really didn’t give us much to work with the other day, so we had to improvise with the info we did receive.”

“By insinuating that I’m the whore of Babylon?!”

Huffing with indignation, Ida retorted, “We did no such thing, Annabelle Gaines, and I resent the implication! You mentioned doing yoga in your spare time, so we just improvised and jazzed it up with a more difficult level to make you sound more interesting. You should be thanking us!”

“The Kama Sutra is NOT yoga, Ida! It’s sex!” Annabelle wailed.

Ida’s mouth hit the floor as she pushed her glasses back up her nose. “Oh, my stars…I just thought it sounded good because there are so many tricky positions to contort your body, but I wasn’t wearing my glasses while researching because of a persistent migraine.”

“Folks, can you believe the enthusiastic response from our bidders? Gentlemen, put your hands together for the lovely Annabelle Gaines!”

Annabelle slowly backed away, but Ida recovered from her shock quickly and shoved her through the tent’s entrance where she stood frozen as every eye in Town Square fell on her.

Mrs. Laurent covered her microphone. “Now’s not the time to be shy, dear! This crowd is piping hot for you! We’re off to a great start!”

It’s for the children, Annabelle thought as she slunk forward with the picnic basket. The single men of Baymoor, ranging in age from twenty-one to seventy and dressed in their Sunday finery all pressed closer to the pavilion, their faces masks of eager anticipation.

“Now, who’d like to open the bidding up with twenty dollars?”

“Forty!”

“I have forty—”

“Sixty!”

Annabelle recognized Marcus Barns, a former classmate whom she’d known since preschool as the bidder and cringed. She wasn’t into shaming of any kind, especially body shaming, but not only did Marcus Barns look like Wile E. Coyote with bifocals, he was unfortunately built like him too.

“Eighty-five!”

The bidding passed $100.00, then $175.00 while Annabelle prayed for a black hole to swallow her. Now it was at $260.00. A movement toward the back of the crowd caught her attention and her heart leapt with joy. It was Graham coming to save her! Except he was just standing there watching the entire process with no apparent inclination of stepping in to rescue his distressed damsel.

Was he really not going to help her?!

Eyebrows narrowed and a look that would scald water, Annabelle hoped she was conveying the urgent message that he’d never gain access to her bed again if he did not step in and do his due diligence as her man. Three-forty and climbing and still, Graham did nothing. Suddenly Annabelle realized what he was doing. He wanted her to come to him and admit that she was willing to work with him regarding Ingrid. Annabelle glanced at Marcus, who was licking his lips like she was the Road Runner on a platter. It was down to him and three other men.

Four-ten. Annabelle straightened up and played to the crowd with a charming smile and a few “Price Is Right” model poses. The hell she would give in to him.

“Five hundred dollars! Do I have another offer? Going once? Going twice?”

Marcus Barnes rubbed his bony hands together and adjusted his bow tie, preparing to come forward and claim his lunch date and basket.

“Twenty-five hundred dollars!” Graham announced, halting Marcus’s procession to the stage.

Annabelle was light-headed with relief, and her knees threatened to give out on her.

From inside the tent, Reverend Armisha squawked, “But I had plans for that young ‘un!”

“I have twenty-five-hundred dollars! Going once? Going twice??” Mrs. Laurent pointed at Marcus, who stepped back into the crowd with a fulminating glare at Graham.

“The basket is sold to the gentleman in the back! Graham Carlton, come forward and claim your prize!”

No one could hold a candle to him, Annabelle thought proudly, watching the crowd part to reveal Graham in a black slim-cut suit with a burgundy, silver, and black paisley print tie and black Capote dress shoes. She watched him assess and dismiss the other men present as he came forward, holding his hand out to her. Annabelle loved that even though he knew she belonged to him, heart and soul, Graham still treated her like he’d been given the grandest prize in the world.

Annabelle placed hers in his, and he bent over it and kissed it before tucking her arm through his, taking the basket from her with his other hand, and escorting her down the pavilion steps.

“Thanks for taking your sweet time. I just want you to know I died a thousand deaths waiting on you,” she said with a practiced smile for the crowd. She listened to him accept envious well-wishes from other bidders as they navigated the crowd to where large bales of hay were covered in traditional red and white checkered picnic blankets for the basket recipients and their companions to enjoy. Despite it being a chilly afternoon, everyone was kept warm by the outdoor heaters. The afternoon sun was setting, but the twinkling lights strung throughout the square were doing their job nicely and casting a cozy, romantic aura.

“You deserve it,” Graham bluntly replied. “I should have let that Wile E. Coyote clown get his paws on you. You got all dressed up, showing my curves to the world? You’re crazy as hell for this one, Doc.”

See? It wasn’t just her! Annabelle felt validated by her observation of Marcus. With a pout, she challenged him, “You would do me like that? It might just be your bad. I heard he’s a playa from the Himalayas.”

With a snort, Graham shot her a derisive look. “I bet dude kisses like a mama bird regurgitating food. Play with me if you want to, Doc, but I’ll cut you off so hard, I promise it’ll be like we never even met. I shoulda let your spoiled behind go with him too. It’d serve your ass right.”

“No!” Annabelle clung to his arm and leaned against his arm, twining their fingers together. “You aren’t leaving me, Mr. Carlton.”

“Damn straight I’m not, Doc. Now that we got that outta the way, why the fuck would you participate in this if you’re taken?” Graham shook his hand free of hers to slide his arm around her hips possessively so every dickhead present understood that she was his queen.

“You’ve met the Spring Chickens, haven’t you? I tried to outsmart them and wound up playing myself. That’s all I’m going to say, so don’t ask.”

“Don’t tell. I’m beginning to get the not-so-pretty picture you’re painting.” Graham lead her to a secluded bale of hay and waited until Annabelle sat down to put the basket between them before they explored its contents. She pulled out a bottle of wine and the two long-stemmed glasses and then a long wooden flat board as Graham removed small bowls.

“Did you make this basket?” Annabelle watched with suspicion as Graham removed the lids and artfully arranged a charcuterie board with cheese, sliced steak, and crispy round appetizers. “Oooh, what are those?”

“I did make this basket because my sisters obviously have a twisted sense of humor, and you were clearly in need of rescuing.” Graham pointed to the food. “Chicken-Portobello meatballs rolled in salt and pepper potato chips, grilled rib eye, cambozola cheese. It’s a combination of a French soft-ripened cheese and Italian gorgonzola. Eat it with the ribeye and you’ll love me forever.”

Carefully, Annabelle set the wine bottle and glasses aside and leaned over to kiss him sweetly, applying just enough heat to make Graham growl against her lips. When they broke apart, Annabelle wiped her lip gloss from his mouth with her thumb. “Trust me, Mr. Carlton. I already do.”

Graham reached for the bottle of wine, and Annabelle watched as he applied the corkscrew and smoothly opened the bottle. “Normally, this is the part where I’d insist you show it by showering me with sexual favors, but in this case, I’ll settle for your understanding my point of view.”

Annabelle held the glasses as he poured the wine. “When did I say I didn’t? I do understand. It was never about me not understanding. It’s about me not having any limitations.” She handed him a glass of wine and let her eyes run over him appraisingly. “You are it for me, Graham Carlton. There’s not a single thing that I don’t adore about you. Your heart, kindness and generosity, and the fact that you don’t need to wear a paper bag over your head makes you a straight royal flush, babe. I trust you with not only my life but Rory’s as well. But the only time I’ll let you dictate what I can or can’t do without questioning your sanity is when we’re naked. I already said I ride for you like you ride for me, so you should never have to question my loyalty.”

Her praise eased the ache in his heart over their disagreement. Graham smirked and seeing that cocky, sexy grin made Annabelle’s stomach dip crazily as he rubbed his beard with those long-tapered fingers and considered her. “Is it that good to you, love?”

She flipped her hair over her shoulders and clinked her glass with his. “Boy, stop it! You know it’s good enough to keep me thirsty, hungry, and ready for you at all times, whenever and wherever, Sir. But I digress. I think you should know that Ingrid said some things to me that I feel are important to share with you.”

Annabelle’s earnest expression was too hard for Graham to resist. “Alright. But after that, I want to just concentrate on having a good time with my woman and the rustic cherry tarts I made for dessert.”

“Lawd, thank you for this man.”

***

Ingrid discreetly watched the activities from the corner of the Comfort Table Café’s front window where she was wiping down the picnic style tables. She could make out Graham and Annabelle if she squinted her eyes hard enough. They seemed to have made up and were having a great time talking, laughing, and feeding one another. Graham looked relaxed and also like a man very much in love. Nothing like when he’d threatened to end her life.

“How’s everything going, Ingrid?” It was Val with her professional friendly mask in place that Ingrid had come to dislike. There was a time when she’d looked up to and adored Valerie. She’d been there since the beginning and watched Nate and Val fall in love. In those days, she was cherished by the both of them as Val adopted Ingrid as her little sister. Nowadays, after reading her the riot act at the motel, Val was pleasant to her but kept it moving, and that’s all Ingrid could hope for.

“It’s going good, Val. I’m just finishing up then plan on restocking the bathroom before clocking out. Is that okay? If not, I can stick around for awhile longer…”

“No need to. It’s not too late for you to get out and enjoy what’s left of the day.”

“Hey, Ingrid! Girl, you know I like it when you wear your hair down!” Chandra was with Val, and she already had her warm smile ready for Ingrid, who soaked it up like sunshine. Chandra was just like that. She bore no grudges and was quick with a smile or good word for everyone.

“Thank you, Chandra.”

The women left Ingrid to peer out the window. “Chandra, would you look at the two of them? They’re just so cute together! I predict a spring wedding.”

“I hope so, and I pray that her daughter will be here as well. It tore me up to hear Annabelle say she didn’t want anything to do with her parents. Poor thing. I don’t know what happened between them, but Thomas and Samantha better get their shiggidy together before they’re left on the outside looking in forever. I tried calling over there, but Samantha keeps saying she doesn’t want to talk. She’s been in an awful state since Annabelle left. I think she’s increased her drinking and she and Thomas might be separating.”

“Say it isn’t so, Chan,” Val clucked sympathetically. “Annabelle is a phenomenal woman, and if Samantha and Thomas don’t get their acts together, they’ll be missing out on life’s best moments.”

“Amen, Val. Now, how is Camille doing with her piano lessons? I’m going to suggest to Annabelle that Rory take them too when she’s older.”

The two women drifted away, oblivious to Ingrid listening to their conversation.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Seven

 

Cocooned in his suit jacket, Annabelle nestled into Graham and laughed as he finished recounting a trip he’d taken to Marrakesh. “You’ve got the best stories, Mr. Carlton. Do you plan to do any more traveling?”

“Not without my girls. We go as a family, and the intel work I do can be done from anywhere. Until I saw you, I never had a desire to stay in one spot.”

“Do you mean in Furla?” Annabelle was puzzled by his answer.

“Nope. I mean here in Baymoor when I first saw your picture that Kenya gave me. I knew months before physically seeing you that here was where I wanted to be with you,” Graham confessed.

Annabelle waved her hands at her eyes. “Please don’t make me cry, Mr. Carlton. You know I’m an ugly crier!”

Graham’s chest rumbled with laughter under Annabelle’s cheek. “Home is wherever you are, Annabelle.”

“Likewise. I’m going to miss Furla. It’s the only home Rory’s ever known.”

Graham kissed her forehead. “We don’t have to stay gone forever, Doc. Who says we can’t visit? When it’s winter here, we’ll go there for summer.”

“Are you crazy?!  I’ve missed fall and winter weather and all of the festivities that come with it. There really is no place like Baymoor, and Rory’s never even seen snow.”

“Whatever you want, woman.”

Annabelle titled her head back, and Graham rewarded her with a lingering kiss. “Thank you, baby.”

“Betty, Hank, and the rest of the Easy Steppers have been showing out and monopolizing the dance floor for the last hour.” Graham eased Annabelle forward and stood up with his hand held out. “I say we give ‘em a run for their money, Doc.”

“Only if you bring you’re A-game, Mr. Carlton.”

The award-winning dance group was cutting a rug as the dee-jay slipped on some Ray Charles when Graham and Annabelle joined them, followed by Max and Georgie, then Wade and Camille.

You know the night time, darling
(night and day)
Is the right time
(night and day)
To be
(night and day)
With the one you love, now
(night and day)

Graham winked at Annabelle before spinning her out smoothly. Damn, his baby was badass. They fell into an effortless rhythm, in sync with each other’s moves, and just enjoying themselves as Annabelle allowed Graham to lead them.

I know the night time
(night and day)
Every day is the right time
(night and day)
Yeah to be with the one you love now
(night and day)

One song turned into three more before the dee-jay slowed it down to Alicia Keys’ “Fallin”. Abruptly, Annabelle stopped dancing and walked away with no explanation to Graham.

He came up behind her by their bale of hay, her hands covering her face. “Wanna tell me what that was all about, Annabelle?”

Back still to him, Annabelle’s voice was inaudible, making Graham lean forward. “Say it again. Only this time turn around and face me. You don’t get to run from me, the man who loves you! Now, Turn. Around.”

“I can’t dance to this or even listen to it! Not now or ever again!” Annabelle cried, spinning to face him. “You don’t understand—”

Graham opened up his arms, and after a brief hesitation, Annabelle moved into them, grateful for the stability, comfort, and security Graham’s embrace provided.

She looked up at him beseechingly. “I’m sorry for leaving you like that, but I’ve always hated this song.”

Because of Fowler, Graham knew, but he refused to ruin their time together, so he’d do the next best thing.

“That’s because you never danced to it with me,” Graham drawled with an easy confident smile that betrayed none of his fury as he began to sway to the beat of the song and crooned the words to her. His hand splayed low on her back, pressing her in so Annabelle’s body was shaped to his, leaving her no choice but to move with him.

Graham observed the way her eyes grew wide and those luscious lips parted in surprise at how well their bodies molded together perfectly, but he wasn’t surprised in the least. Graham raised an eyebrow in silent inquiry when she continued to stare at him, and Annabelle quickly averted her head. But not before Graham saw her mouth curve into that seductive half-smile that stirred his soul…along with something else.

But what else was new?

***

Jabs and crosses, sitting punches, and knee crosses.

It was midnight, and Graham was back at it and still frustrated as a motherfucker. Except this time, in the privacy of his own suite, going at the punching bag, bare-knuckle style and mixing it up with kickboxing. It still wasn’t enough. Nothing would be enough until that bitch was dead. Fowler hovered over them like a dark cloud, but Graham was done with it. Tomorrow, he was going to get Rory and Edith, bring them back, and they’d continue with their lives.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Then there was Annabelle with her curves and sweet kisses. Graham could still feel her imprinted on him, and it was fucking hard as shit to keep going like this when his dick refused to let him be. Sex and violence. He needed them both in his life right now, craved the release they’d both give him, but again, Graham would have to settle for a cold shower and rubbing one out.

He stripped and hit the shower, allowing the icy pellets to attack his flesh and divert his attention and wrapped his hand around his extended length and sought comfort for his boy.

Nothing.

“Fuuuuck!” Graham banged his fist against the marble wall and for a moment, his attention was diverted by the numbness in his hand. He grabbed the loofah sponge and washed up, preparing for another sleepless night.

When Graham exited the bathroom naked, he was stunned to find Annabelle sitting demurely with her legs crossed on the edge of his bed. His mouth dried up like sandpaper at her ensemble, consisting of her white lab coat, stethoscope, pumps from earlier, and nothing else. Annabelle surveyed him through her lashes, twirling the stethoscope dangling between her bountiful breasts as she uncrossed her legs, giving him a peep show of his pretty little pussy before standing up.

In a sultry voice, she said, “It’s a good thing I came. It sounds like my services are sorely needed.” Her eyes lowered to his erection that was straining for Annabelle’s attention, and she murmured, “I’ve got just the remedy for that, Mr. Carlton.”

“How’d you get in here, and what the hell are you wearing?”

Annabelle dropped the seductress act to reassure him, “Oh, don’t worry, baby! The coat and equipment just arrived today, and I thought I’d break them in with you before I wore them to work. Georgie gave me her key, and Eliza gave me the access code to this floor. You should have seen Forenzo’s face when I arrived in my trench coat.”

She reached for him, but Graham held up a hand, stopping her. “Pump your breaks, Nurse Naughty. If you stay, there’s no bouncing between here and Georgie’s house. So, what’s it gonna be?”

Annabelle shrugged out of her lab coat. “My goal tonight was getting the good-good.” She gave him a saucy wink. “I’m not leaving till I do, but considering once would never be enough for me, I guess I’m staying. Where do you want me, Mr. Carlton?”

So fucking breathtaking. Her sable complexion was silky smooth everywhere, from her strong, arresting facial features to the curves, hills, and valleys of her body.

“Let’s start with the bed, Doc. Sit on the edge. How do you want it?”

Indestructible. That was the adjective that came to Annabelle’s mind because that’s the kind of intimacy she and Graham shared. He treated her like a delicate flower everywhere but in bed. When it came to sex, Graham flipped the script and fucked Annabelle like she was unbreakable. Especially when it came to doggy-style. He wasn’t satisfied with just her ass rippling in the air. No, her man didn’t stop until he damn near had her doing the kick-worm.

“Surprise me.” Annabelle pointed upward. “This skylight is ridiculous! Did you know that Georgie has one just like it in her bedroom? It’s like the moon is hovering right above you.”

Like Graham had predicted, Max was keeping his baby sis happy. “We can discuss that shit later, Doc. Get your ass on the bed.”

Graham didn’t follow Annabelle to the bed. He tortured himself by watching the lush globes of her ass bounce and her hips dip side to side as she sashayed to the bed in those pumps to do his bidding. She sat with an expectant look and crooked her finger at him to come hither.

Annabelle was fixated on his length as it bobbed, hypnotizing her the closer he came until it was in her face. She reached for it, but Graham knocked her hands out of the way and dropped to his knees so they were eye-level. “Not so fast, grabby hands.”

Carefully, he adjusted the stethoscope so that the ears tips were now in place and held the diaphragm to her chest. Annabelle was surrounded by the pulsating beat of her heart, and with a diabolical grin, Graham yanked her forward and pushed her legs back until her knees met her chest. As he reacquainted himself with his pussy, Annabelle could not only feel but hear the insanity of how he resurrected her body. Gasping for air and with tears of pleasure seeping from the corners of her eyes, Annabelle gave herself up to the decadent madness of Graham Carlton’s loving under the moon’s watchful eyes.

***

She moaned into the pillow, slowly awakening as Graham, beard grazing her skin deliciously, pressed kisses along her shoulders and neck. Annabelle could feel him behind her, positioning himself at her entrance, and she threw her leg back over his thigh to accommodate him. With a yawn, she drowsily asked, “Again, Mr. Carlton?”

Breathing in her perfumed skin, Graham bit her shoulder as he sank into his second home as she sighed her approval. Gritting his teeth at just how exquisite Annabelle’s tight sheath conformed to his dick and bathed him in her silken heat was one out of a thousand reminders of how blessed he was that she’d chosen him. Graham reached over her to lace their fingers together, his vice a sleepy rasp in her ear, “And again and again. Can you really blame me, baby? You’re my greatest strength, but making love to you will forever be my weakness, Doc.”

The buzzing of his phone interrupted her response, and Graham bit back a curse. No good came from a call at three in the morning.

“You should probably get that,” Annabelle mumbled but deliberately tightened her muscles around him.

“Sorry, baby, I’ll be quick about it.” With regret, Graham slid from her body and left the bed to retrieve his phone from his workout room.

Fear clutched at his chest when he saw Wade’s number.

Dear God, please don’t let anything have happened to Eliza, Camille, or the baby…

***

At last, he would be coming face-to-face Davis Fowler, Graham thought dispassionately as he listened to Wade’s explanation.

“Baker caught him breaking in by the side garden gate. Neighbor’s dog on the other side of the wall started barking. Concerned, they peered out and saw a small flashlight as if someone wasn’t trying to bring attract attention to themselves. They called 9-1-1, and Baker was able to apprehend him. He didn’t try to resist but said he would only speak to you and me,” Wade finished heavily. “So, how do you want to play this? I could do this by the book, but then every sordid detail of what transpired with those bastards and the hell Edith and Annabelle endured will become public knowledge.”

They, including Rory, would be gossip fodder for years to come is what Wade wasn’t saying.

“I’d like to keep this under wraps for now until I talk to Annabelle and Edith,” Graham finally said. “I want to talk to him.”

The two men walked over to the black Buick LaCrosse that Baker was watching. At their approach, he left, leaving Wade and Graham alone with the intruder.

“Sheriff, Mr. Carlton,” Thomas Gaines nodded curtly at them. “I’m sorry that I disturbed your evenings with your family, but I been kind of going through something with my own family, so I’m sure you’ll understand after what I show you.”

“Where is he?” Graham coolly inquired.

Thomas tilted his head back. “In the trunk. When we’re done here, you’ll tell my baby girl her troubles are finally over, right?”

“I heard about the other day and planned to come pay you a visit,” Graham’s voice lowered to a menacing pitch. “You upset her greatly with your rejection.”

“Dammit, I was only trying to protect her!” Thomas pounded the dashboard with his cuffed wrists. “Don’t you understand that I had to do what was necessary to get her away from the store or he would have seen her on the store’s camera system!”

“Is that the only reason?!” Graham fired back. “You sure you’re not really pissed and feeling resentful because you and your wife’s cash cow left the pasture?”

Thomas’s shoulders sagged in defeat, and his eyes were bleak with despair. “We did a terrible, greedy thing accepting Brenton’s money for the store, but I truly thought Annabelle loved Davis. I wasn’t even aware that they were having problems until she came to me and her mama and said she was leaving. Even then, I thought it was a lover’s quarrel and they would work it out in time. Samantha was convinced of it, which was why she called Davis. She asked him to consider doing something romantic for his fiancée. Samantha also wanted to ensure he was aware that he would never find another woman as perfect as Annabelle if she left him.”

“Your wife has no idea what she set in motion for Annabelle with that phone call!” Graham seethed as he kicked the car door, making Thomas jump from the force.

“Let’s all calm down.” Wade’s warning was directed toward Graham. “Baker! Can you please uncuff Mr. Gaines for me so he can pop his trunk?”

They moved to the back of the Buick and waited. “I’ve been where you’re at over some bullshit deception, Graham, but you need to remember that Thomas is a victim too.”

“The only thing that man is a victim of is his own fucking circumstances, Wade.” Graham icily disputed.

“Normally, I’d agree, except, in this case, Fowler broke into his home and terrorized them at gunpoint for two months. Every day, Thomas left for work while Samantha’s been held prisoner in their home. If he attempted to alert any authorities, Fowler threatened to kill her. He saw Annabelle on social media and demanded that they find a way to get her over there.” Wade handed Graham a pair of plastic gloves then slipped on a pair himself. “He grew increasingly violent toward Samantha because he wasn’t getting the results he wanted fast enough. Graham, he planned to leave Baymoor, but not without Annabelle by his side. Christ, can you even imagine if he found out about Rory?!”

The trunk popped open, and Wade used his glove hand to lift it and unwrap the plastic that Davis Fowler’s lifeless body was wrapped in. The two men whistled in admiration of the gruesome scene before them. It wasn’t the way that Graham hoped they would meet, and he was extremely disappointed that he hadn’t been the one to inflict the deep vicious stab wounds all over Fowler’s face and neck. The one that thing that eased Graham’s disappointment about Fowler’s death was that the man’s eyes were frozen with the realization that he was dying and there was no way to prevent the ruthless savagery inflicted on him that he deserved. Graham pointed to the side of his neck. “That’s the death blow. Carotid artery. All of this is overkill and the extent of their rage. He was bleeding out while they were still hacking away. Even after he was gone, they continued. I’m not mad at the method but I feel fucking cheated!”

“As far as I’m concerned, this was self-defense, and I can even see temporary insanity. I want to find out from Thomas what he was planning to do here.” Wade regarded his friend gravely. “You should consider that maybe you just weren’t meant to carry the burden of having to eventually admit to your little girl that you were the one who killed her biological father?”

When Wade left, Graham took a closer look at the body, still profoundly disappointed that he wasn’t the one to send him into the afterlife. Davis’s fist was curled, and Graham pried it open. He studied his discovery for long moments before shaking his head at their cluelessness and muttered, “Fucking rookies. Next time, just tape a note with your signed confession on your victim’s forehead.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Eight

 

“My father was going to put the body into the tree house?” Annabelle scoffed. “But why?”

“That’s what I said, darlin’. I think he was just overwhelmed. I would have just sawed him into pieces and put him in a vat of lye,” Graham shrugged. “I wouldn’t have bothered with killing him first either.”

“Too much work,” Darby argued. “Max has pigs that he’s not making earn their keep; I would have gone that route myself. Starve the pigs then feed them the body. Problem solved.”

“As a vet, I have to protest the animal cruelty. And by that, I’m talking about the atrocious meal you would’ve tried to feed them. Even in death, he’s too much to stomach,” Annabelle shuddered.

“Pliers, a dull razor, and an extended stay at a safe house would do it for me,” Tuck, Darby’s righthand man suggested as he slammed the door of the Sullivan Securities ‘cleaning’ van.

“Bruh, if that wasn’t a confirmed bachelor statement…” Graham told him while Annabelle moved closer to Graham but kept her wary gaze locked on Tuck.

“Don’t pay Tuck any mind, Ms. Annabelle. He just hasn’t met the right woman ready to make him change it all up and ready to hurry home like me and Graham.” Darby bent down and kissed Annabelle’s cheek. “It was a real pleasure to meet you in person. Welcome back.”

He and Graham exchanged a bear hug and clapped each other on the backs. “Don’t worry about this. We’ll make this bastard disappear forever.”

Annabelle didn’t wait for the van to start before she threw herself into Graham’s arms with an ecstatic scream. He caught her and spun Annabelle around as she threw a fist into the air then simultaneously laughing and crying. Her nightmare with Davis was finally over! She was free! Free to never have to look over her shoulder unless she chose to and wonder if he or someone from his family was watching her. Free to bring Rory and Edith home.

Graham slid her down until they were face to face. “Hey, Doc.”

“It’s really over, isn’t it?”

“He’ll never bother you again, love.”

Graham knew the exact moment her adrenaline crashed as the truth sank in. Her face crumpled, and he carried her into the inn and up to their suite where a shaking Annabelle fell apart. He stayed with her through all of it. The tears of joy, of relief, of rage as she ranted and cursed her parents, Fowler, and herself. After her tears dried, Graham laced her into a pair of gloves he’d ordered just for this occasion and let her go. The profanity spewing from her mouth as she attacked the punching bag with everything she was would blister the ears of truckers and sailors alike.

Twice in an hour, Forenzo, Eliza, and Georgie came by to check on them, and Annabelle was still going at the bag ferociously, no sign of stopping in sight.

“I’m worried about her,” Georgina told Chelsea and Kenya who came by as soon as they heard the news.

“Don’t be; this has been years in the making,” Chelsea responded.

“I didn’t know Mr. and Mrs. Gaines punk-asses had it in them,” was Kenya’s feedback. “Praise God. Now, she can finally move forward with her life.”

***

All Annabelle wanted to do was sleep, but Graham insisted she soak in the bath he’d drawn for her. She stood still as he peeled her sweat-drenched clothing from her body and piled her hair into a bun. She stared down at his bald head while he removed her panties and marveled at how perfectly formed it was. Not many men could pull of a bald head, but like everything else he did, Graham did it with minimal effort.

“Into the water you go, Doc.”

She allowed him to guide her into his quartz tub that easily fit three people and leaned her head back on the edge as the hot bath soothed her aching muscles. Annabelle was exhausted, but her soul felt infinitely lighter.

Annabelle tilted her head back as Graham pressed a kiss to her forehead then moved to her lips. The upside-down kiss invigorated her senses, redirected the ache her body was experiencing, and elevated Annabelle into a boneless state of blissful contentment.

They broke apart and Annabelle smiled up at him dreamily. “Thank you for this, babe. You always know just what I need.”

“That’s my job, Doc. While you finish up in here, I’m going to turn the bed down for you.”

Annabelle caught his hand. “Don’t leave me just yet. I want you to join me…please.”

Graham stripped, stepped into the tub, and sat down opposite of Annabelle. He recognized the interest smoldering in his baby’s eyes. It was confirmed when she crawled over to him and settled her thighs over his, her slick pussy on his dick and breasts swaying invitingly in his face. “Baby, this can wait until after you’ve gotten some rest. It’s been a long day.”

Annabelle’s jaw locked stubbornly as she brushed her nipple against his lips, tempting Graham, who flicked his tongue against the plump, tight, little bud. Annabelle’s nails dug into his shoulders. “No, Sir. You owe me a raincheck from this morning. I’m reclaiming my time now.”

Her hand captured him under the water, and with her forehead pressed to his, Annabelle lifted up to rub the swollen mushroomed head of his shaft at her opening, tormenting them both, before easing him into her.

Graham suctioned her nipple into his mouth and laved it as Annabelle rode him mercilessly. Not once did he try to take over, sensing that she needed to be the aggressor and in control. After all, this was her world, and he was only privileged to be a part of it.

Later in bed, Annabelle lay on top of him as Graham ran his fingers up and down her spine. “I’m going to call Dr. Klaus in the morning, Graham. I know that taking my aggression out on the bag isn’t enough. I don’t expect things to be easy, but I’m just asking you to bear with me.”

“Anything in life worth having is also worth the wait, Doc.” Graham wrapped his arms around her and flipped them over until she was lying beneath him, staring up at him apprehensively. “The best is yet to come.”

***

Wade and Eliza’s wedding was an intimate affair that took place in the banquet room of the Cashmere Inn. The bride and groom chose to go with a white and cream theme in varying textures. They utilized the services of their family friends Noelle and Avery Sullivan’s event planning company On A Whim to make their dreams come true.

String lights hung from clear racks down the walls then were covered by cream chiffon that hung from the ceilings with vines of ivy trailing down them to give the room an airy bohemian-romantic vibe. In lieu of chairs, they used rustic benches covered with cream brocade as seating. At the end of every aisle bench were large, rustic, candlelit lanterns decorated on top by floral arrangements of white roses, baby’s breath, cream peonies, and ivy. For the occasion, Guy Keetoowah-Marquez, Fern’s man, designed branches woven with the designated floral choices and ivy to hang from the ceiling, while Jack Sullivan put together the square, wooden archway that Noelle swathed in cream satin and ivy while cascading roses and peonies tumbled out of refurbished wood box planters on either side.

Eliza wore an empire style, off-white Spanish lace wedding dress that skimmed over her small baby bump and a side fishtail braid with baby white roses and baby’s breath in her hair. The bridesmaids, Georgie, Annabelle, and Fiona, Wade’s sister, wore moss green velvet dresses that flattered their body shapes, and the flower girls, Camille, Sosie, and Paisley wore green and cream polka-dot day dresses with green satin sashes tied around their waists.

“How are you feeling?” Val brought Eliza a cup of spearmint tea. She smiled sympathetically at Eliza’s answering groan. “You’ve got to shake it off, darling. There’s lots of celebrating to be had today.”

“And lots of boot-knocking to be done later,” Georgina side-whispered to Annabelle after making sure Aunt Val was out the way.

“Shameless hussy.” Annabelle ruffled her pixie cut, and Georgina ducked away to answer the knock at the door.

It was Graham, looking like fine wine in his black tux. “Mi familia. Looking beautiful as always.” He licked his lips sexily as he approached Annabelle in her floor-length gown.

“Mr. Carlton,” she greeted him, smoothing the satin lapels of his jacket. “Not sure if my heart can take all of this that you’re serving up. I’m a blessed woman.”

“Indeed, you are.” He winced when she smacked his arm. “Ooof! I’m kidding!” Graham’s hands spanned her waist, and he dropped a kiss on her pouty lips, whispering, “Doc, I’m feelin’ this neckline way too much to not make you an offer I hope you won’t refuse.”

“Wow, that’s some seriously slick wording there, buddy. I’m all ears, though. What’d you once say to me?” Annabelle tapped her chin in contemplation. “Aaah yessss. Make it good for you.”

“Oh, I’m confident I can. Trust in your man, baby.” Graham took her by the hand and led her from the room. “We’ll be right back, y’all!”

“Where are we going?” Annabelle had to rush to keep up with him as he led her down the hall to the front of the church.

“To find a nice corner where I can take advantage of your lowcut neckline and the easy access of your dress. Are you enjoying yourself?”

“I am. Told you I’d get everyone’s names right,” she bragged.

“As long as the same rules apply for the bet, you’re a winner in my book.”

“It’s too bad I didn’t get to meet your friend Casey or his wife. Maybe when we go to see Rory I can meet them?”

Graham stopped outside a closed door. “I doubt it. Case said Sid’s ready to pop and is on bedrest. He also said she’s as big as a house and meaner than a rabid dog with fleas and ticks.”

“That’s an…interesting way to describe one’s spouse. I promise to God if you ever describe me in such a manner…”

“Baby, those were his words. I’m simply the messenger,” Graham said innocently while opening the door and they both paused at the sight of an extremely pregnant, stunning black woman getting slap happy with a tall, handsome blonde man who was trying to unsuccessfully dodge her hands.

“How could you say those things about me, Casey Aiden Sullivan?!” she hissed. “I am the mother of your unborn child! You couldn’t possibly know what I’m going through to bring her into this world!

“Ow! Dammit! Stop it, Sid!” Casey ducked and dodged her hands and attempted to wrap his arms around her extended waistline. “I do know what you’re going through! We all do! Including our local barista, the mailman, and random strangers because you never let any of us forget it!”

To Graham, he snarled, “I said that in confidence!” To Annabelle, he flashed a mega-watt smile and oozed southern charm. “Pleased to finally meet you, Ms. Annabelle. I have heard nothing but great things about you. I’m Casey Sullivan and this is my lovely wife, Sid.”

“You said nothing about confidentiality, Sullivan,” Graham defended himself.

At her husband’s outburst, the fight went out of Sidra, and she dropped her arms with a confused look. “I’m really that bad? How come no one’s ever told me?”

“Because you’re a terrifying dragon lady who’s pissed that she has insane heartburn but refuses to stop shoving food into her pie hole.” This droll answer came from the corner of the room where an older white, silver-haired gentleman in a gray suit sat with three children, watching the bickering couple with wide eyes.

“Not helping, Ian,” Casey scolded him. “Ms. Annabelle, that’s my goddaddy and resident snark-shark, Ian Rusnik.”

Ian inclined his head at her with a genuine smile. “Hello, my dear. Graham, good to see you, lad.”

“Hey, Ian.”

Annabelle grabbed Graham’s arm and squeezed it. “Is that—” She couldn’t take her eyes away but asked, “Did you do this?”

“I know I said we’d wait, but it was killing me not to see babygirl,” Graham admitted with a sheepish grin.

It was Ruby who spoke first. “It’s Mummy and Daddy, Rory! Go see Mummy and Daddy!”

Rory jumped down from the sofa and ran to Annabelle and Graham. “Mummy! Mummy! Mummy!”

Annabelle bent down and caught her little body, squeezing her carefully as Rory hugged and kissed her while Graham allowed them to have their moment.

Sidra started bawling, “That’s so beautiful. Casey. Aren’t they beautiful? Do you think Moira and I will be like that? I’m so tired. Baby, my arms are killing me…”

“What’d I tell you about tryin’ to windmill your man, baby?” Casey led her from the room with a promise, “Let’s go lay down, and I’ll rub them for you.”

“You promise, Casey?” Sidra waved tiredly at Annabelle. “I’m demanding that we try this again in a couple of months. I’m not really like this. It’s—”

“We know. It’s your poor defenseless baby’s fault. Casey, stop springing your wife on unsuspecting victims like a psychotic jack’n’ the box!” Ian rose from the sofa and held onto Ruby’s hand. “I think I’ll come along as well, just to make sure your room is sufficiently padded and comes with an outside lock. Come along, children.”

With a kiss to Annabelle’s cheek, Ian guided Ruby out of the way, but D.J. remained behind and shook Graham’s hand. “Good afternoon, Uncle G. Ms. Annabelle. I was wondering if you could point me in—”

“She’s with her daddy, who’s still in uniform and carrying his gun.” Graham pointed to the door. “Find her at your own risk.”

“I’ll definitely keep that in mind. Later.”

Rory was busy staring at Graham with her brows furrowed in consternation. “Mummy, is Mr. Ram my daddy? That’s what Ruby said. D.J. said a daddy loves you no matter where you come from.” She lowered her head and buried it in Annabelle’s neck. Her brown eyes fluttered at Graham. “Mr. Ram, you love me, yes?”

Crashing and burning in the wind was his forever feeling for this little girl, Graham thought to himself. And her mama. Annabelle was trying not to cry and managed to give him a slight nod at his questioning look on how to proceed.

“Forever, Doc. That’s the deal; nothing less,” Graham reminded her tenderly. 

“Forever multiplied by forevermore, no matter what, Mr. Carlton,” Annabelle’s voice broke on a sob of happiness as she passed Rory to Graham.

“Mr. Ram, why is Mummy crying?” Rory’s lower lip wobbled, and Graham knew that he’d better say something before he had two crying females on his hands and broke down himself.

There was movement in the door, and Graham saw his Uncle Nate, Aunt Val, Eliza, Wade, and Georgina hovering in the doorway, eager to meet Rory.

“Mummy is crying because I love you and her very much, babygirl.” Graham reached out to gently wipe away one of Annabelle’s tears then drew her into the group hug. His family. “Do you hear that, Rory? Your daddy loves the both of you very much.”

“I love you too, Daddy! What do you call a pile of cats, Daddy?”

If he broke, his sisters would never let him forget it.

“I don’t know, babygirl. What do you call it?”

“A meowtain!” She snuggled closer and patted Annabelle’s cheek. “I love you, Mummy. I love you, Daddy.”

Aaand… Graham was officially done trying to hold it together.

He had a family of his own.

And of course, Georgina recorded and sent the video to him later with the text:

Stay strong, fam.

***

“How are you feeling, Mrs. Holloway?” Wade relished saying Eliza’s new last name.

They were finally married. After Eliza walked down the aisle between her aunt and uncle, she and Wade had exchanged vows with Camille in between them before jumping a stunning handwoven broom created by Guy. Currently, they were enjoying their first dance to Natalie Cole’s “Our Love”, which was barely a sway due to Eliza’s twenty-four-hour morning sickness that showed no signs of ending anytime soon.

“Baby, I’m sorry to be such a pain on our wedding day,” Eliza answered pitifully, willing the motion sickness to stop as she lay her head on Wade’s shoulder. They were barely moving, but she was getting that awful watery taste in her mouth again.

Wade held her closer and signaled to the dee-jay. As soon as the announcement was made for everyone to join the newly married couple on the dance floor, Wade scooped Eliza into his arms and led her to a quiet, secluded corner. He sat down on a chair and turned her so they could watch while everyone enjoyed the reception.

“Oh, God, you planned this, didn’t you? Now, I’m really mortified.”

“I did have a feeling something like this might happen, so I asked Noelle if she could arrange this seating.”

“Well, at least you know I’m good for the main event later.”

They shared an intimate laugh at that truth. The only time Eliza wasn’t sick was when they were making love.

Eliza grabbed his hand and held it next to hers so they could admire their most valued pieces of jewelry. “Damn, they look good together.”

Wade was humbled by the sight of their matching rings. Not that long ago, having Eliza in his life again was an unattainable fantasy he could only torture himself with, thinking all was lost between them. Those days were a thing of the past. He’d managed not only to get the girl of his dreams but also a daughter he loved beyond measure. “I love you, Eliza. Thank you for saying yes.”

“I love you too, Wade.” Eliza kissed his cheek. “You know I didn’t have a choice. My heart’s known from the beginning that you and I were meant to be.”

“I’ve been thinking that I should offer Graham the house once we finish renovating our new home. What do you say?”

“We know firsthand that it’s a good home to raise a family in, but with Annabelle working for Max and Graham based out of the inn, they might not want to live in town. See what they say. Rory’s adorable, isn’t she? I thought I wanted a boy, but seeing her makes me want another little girl.”

Wade covered her baby bump with his hands and smiled when he felt the baby’s resounding kick. “I don’t care as long as mama and baby are healthy.”

“Just looking at Graham and Annabelle makes my heart melt. He had me convinced that he had to sample every available female on the planet before making an informed choice.”

“Mmmm,” was Wade’s preoccupied reply. He was too busy unzipping the back of Eliza’s dress to lick her spine to answer.

She shuddered under his velvety caress. “Hey, Mr. Holloway?”

“Yeah, Mrs. Holloway?” Wade answered throatily.

“Would it be alright if we skipped this and got to the main event early? I’m feeling an insatiable need to make love with you.”

“There’s nothing I’d like more.”

***

Later that night, Annabelle listened from the doorway as Graham read Rory her fourth storybook of the night and finally decided to intervene. “Alright, love, it’s time for bed. It’s way past your bedtime, and I see you managed to get in a couple of more stories.”

“But Daddy doesn’t mind, Mummy,” Rory said stubbornly. “We like story time! Right, Daddy?”

Graham turned sad, pitiful eyes toward Annabelle, pleading, “We just got her back, Doc.”

How could she resist those faces? Ugh, she was going to be in trouble if it remained two against one and she didn’t restore the balance of power. With a provocative smile, Annabelle agreed, “As long as Daddy understands he has to read Mummy a story too.”

“You’re killin’ me, Doc,” Graham called after her, enjoying the sight of her in that long raspberry silk nightgown.

Much later in bed when Annabelle was drifting off to sleep, Graham said, “I was hoping you would catch the bouquet tonight.”

“I’m sorry, but Rory was tired and didn’t want anyone but me to hold her.”

“Baby, you don’t have to explain or apologize for being a mother,” Graham reminded her. “Besides, I was there. I was just expressing my thoughts because if you had, I would have given you this.”

Annabelle’s heart was galloping at the sight of the four-carat cushion cut diamond with a pave band. Under the moonlight, it sparkled brilliantly and held Annabelle transfixed.

In his deep baritone Graham explained himself. “I would have said you’re my best friend, my lover, and Day1, ride or die. That I didn’t know what love was until I saw you and maybe mentioned something about just going through the motions and not even realizing it until you and our precious little girl flipped my world upside down in the best ways possible. That being with you has been the best adventure of my life, and I want to turn it into five lifetimes if possible. Then I would have ended my speech with Annabelle Gaines, forever love of my life, would you do me the honor of becoming my official better half?”

Furiously, Annabelle wiped the tears from her eyes as she sat up in bed, pulling the sheet around her to kneel by his side and gaze into his eyes.

“Don’t cry, baby,” Graham cleared his throat noisily. “Doc, if you say yes and take another chance on me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never regret your choice. We don’t need to set a date now, so don’t feel pressured. I just wanted you to know that I’m not going anywhere, Annabelle, and will cross every bridge we get to by your side or build them if I have to.”

“I say yes to you, Graham Carlton!” Annabelle threw herself into his arms and sobbed. “I’d be honored to be your wife. You’re my knight in shining armor, holding me down and lifting me up at the same time. Thank you for loving not only me, but Rory and Edith as well. Thank you for showing me what a real man looks like. Thank you for showing me what true love looks like. That it’s patient and kind and—”

Graham’s kiss silenced her words and she clung to him, feeling him slip the ring on her finger and being at peace with her choice. This time, there was no sense of panic and dread boiling in the pit of her stomach, only the sense of aptness that she’d been blessed with the right man. Graham lifted his head, but Annabelle couldn’t see his face through her tears.

“Thank you for taking a chance on me as well, Graham.”

“C’mon, Doc,” Graham laughed tenderly. “You should know by now that I never had a choice in the matter.”