Back to You

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Authors: Faith Andrews

BOOK: Back to You
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Back to You
Faith Andrews

Sometimes dreams aren’t meant to be chased. Sometimes forevers change with one regret. But when it’s worth the fight—we always wind up back where we belong. Mia and Declan have struggled through infidelity, guilt, and betrayal. Declan wasn’t too proud to lay his heart on the line and show Mia that she is his everything, but can these two find a way to get past all the hurt, to heal old wounds, and get back to good?

I’ll do all I have to do to find my way back to you...

Back to You
by Faith Andrews

Copyright © 2014 by Faith Andrews

 

All rights reserved.

 

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

 

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

Except the original material written by the author, all songs, song titles and lyrics contained in the book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

 

Original lyrics and music to
Back to You
co-written and recorded by Walter Vincent and co-written by Faith Andrews.

Purchase the single here

http://www.waltervincent.com/

 

Interior Design by Angela McLaurin,
Fictional Formats

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Acknowledgements

About the Author

 

 

 

To the lovers of music and the believers of second chances and especially to everyone who fell in love with Mia & Declan in
Man of My Dreams
.

 

 

 

Tracing the tattoo that surrounds my name, I count all the little ‘ones’—different sizes, fonts, and boldness—that form the shape of a heart. What a unique, creative concept. It’s so Declan. I’m his one and only and he’s not afraid to wear that truth over his heart.

My eyes never leave the beautiful artwork as I ask, “It doesn’t really matter now, but how did you know where—”

Grace clears her throat and I know without a doubt that she was in cahoots—again—with my husband.
My husband.
God, how I missed him. I know it didn’t seem that way when I was sitting across the table from Noah, but—no buts. I don’t want to question any of this. This is where I belong. This is who my heart belongs to. It always did.

As soon as the spotlight surrounded him on that stage
my body flooded with a rush of inexplicable emotions. Raw, heart-thumping, adrenaline-rushing emotions. Panic, excitement, shock, guilt, desire and the last one… forgiveness. It took a while to grasp that, while my mind was engulfed with so much at once, but in that moment, realizing Declan was fighting for me—it was all I needed. I allowed his voice to burn the words about being his everything into my soul.

That song. Our song. So many wonderful memories.
The lyrics, the growl of his soulful voice, the way he looked at me when he sang them—I knew then that I was fooling myself by ever believing my heart could belong to someone else.

And now, sitting in the back seat of Grace’s car, wrapped in the security of my husband’s arms, I’m ashamed of what I put us through these last few months. I was selfish and foolish—I acted like a teenager instead of a responsible wife and mother. I should have fought for my marriage instead of running into the arms of another man. Declan might not have been innocent and yes, that was the beginning of this whole mess, but I dragged this out for months because of one regret.
How does he not hate me?
I’m the one who should be begging for forgiveness.

“Declan, I am so sorry for everything I—”

He brings a finger to my lips, silencing me. “Shhh, babe. It’s over. I don’t ever want to look back.”

I wish it were that simple. I wish with all my might, but it’s not. There’s no doubt in my mind that we will work it out this time. Yes, the worst is behind us, but we’re fooling ourselves if we think this won’t take some serious effort.

I will myself to let it go, even if just for tonight. I don’t want to ruin this with confessions and hurtful truths. Now is not the time. Now’s the time to let him know how much I love him. I tilt my head to look at him. I see past the broken nose, the tousled hair, his blood soaked shirt. I only want to look into his eyes—it’s the door to his soul.

He runs his fingers through my hair and smiles, tears brimming the icy blue of his eyes. “You came back to me, Mia.”

I gulp back the lump in my throat, trying hard to stop the tears from gushing. But it’s no use, they’re uncontrollable. So much time wasted. So much hurt that could have been prevented, and yet, he sees past all of it. He loves me, flaws and all. “Thank you for knowing what I needed. Thank you for fighting for me.”

 

 

 

“Three more days, babe. And this better be the last damn time I have to travel to the other side of the world for this client.” Declan’s frustration seeps through his groggy voice.

Hong Kong and Declan are not best friends. Hong Kong and
I
are not best friends. But as much as I
want
Declan home, I
need
him not to be right now. How ironic is that? We spent enough time apart this year—time we could have been making memories instead of making mistakes and being stubborn. I hate the idea of
any
time apart now that we’re finally back together—getting back to good—but as much as I despise his job for always ripping him away from me and the girls at the most inopportune times, this time—it couldn’t have been planned better.

Declan interrupts my racing, guilty thoughts when he hears the ruckus from the contractors. “Hey, what’s that noise? Sounds like banging.”

Shit!
I want this to be a surprise—a special anniversary present—and the hammering and sawing are pretty obvious. I should’ve known better than to answer his call while down here.

Muffling the phone with my palm, I walk away from the chaos.
“Um, no… no banging. The TV’s too loud and the girls are um… knocking down block castles.” I dart for the stairs and head back up from the basement to the kitchen. I like being involved in the project, but I can’t oversee every second of the job—I have no idea what to look for anyway.

Declan replies to my little white lie with a chuckle. “Shit, those two are mini-monsters in pretty disguises. I thought little girls were supposed to play tea party.”

“Have you met our girls, Dec? They are anything
but
dainty.”

“Nothing like their mother… girly, graceful,
sexy
. Which reminds me, when I get back I’m whisking you away. An anniversary getaway. The beach, a suite, and lots of alone time.”

I hop over the delivery box of high-tech, state-of-the-art recording equipment, smiling.
He’s going to love this.
The thought of making him happy and hearing the word ‘getaway’ makes me tingle. “Mmmm,” I purr into the phone. “You, me and the beach… sounds like heaven.”

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