EMBER - Part Three (The EMBER Series, #3) (9 page)

The words catch my heart in my chest. I lean back in the weathered vinyl chair that is next to the bed. Dane looks at me for only a brief second before he slides himself closer to Cleo. "You were right. At the time it hurt Maisy when you said that. I cared about her so it hurt me too, but you were right."

"It more than hurt her." She rests her head back against the pillows. "You both stopped talking to me because Maisy thought I was jealous of your relationship."

This is the conflict that tore Dane from her life. It wasn't something catastrophic. It had nothing to do with hatred or spite. It was an older sister trying to save her younger sister from eventual heartbreak.

"I knew when I met Bridget that she was the one." He taps his fingers against my knee. "I love her more than my heart is capable of."

"That's exactly how I feel about my David," she stops before she swallows hard. "And now, my little David too."

"You'll be home with both of them soon." Dane rubs his hand over his brow. "When can you be discharged?"

"I need extra care." She dips her chin towards her stomach. "I had no idea that a caesarian section would be this rough."

He leans forward to kiss her softly on her forehead. "You're the strongest woman I've ever met. Give it some time and you'll be home holding that little guy in your arms."

"I
'm going to learn French."

I stare up and into his face. "That's your plan for when we're in Paris?"

"I'm going to Paris to watch you shine." He presses his chin into my hair. "It's a vacation for me. It's an adventure."

"An adventure?" I glide my hand from my lap onto his thigh. "When did you decide that we were going to Paris?"

"The day you told me about the internship."

I snuggle closer to him on the bench. It's mid-morning and after he'd said goodbye to Cleo, we'd walked out of the hospital hand-in-hand. We didn't have a clear destination and as soon as we walked into Central Park and saw the vacant bench, we both motioned towards it at the same time.

"You're giving up a lot to go there with me." My voice is laced with not only appreciation, but awe.

Adjusting himself, he crosses his long legs. "You would be giving up more by staying here and since I can't be away from you, I need to be there. I have to go with you."

We haven't spoken about the financial aspects of a three-month move around the world. The internship offers a small monthly stipend, which includes housing for me and my companion. I have enough saved to cover meals and transportation but I doubt that Dane will stand idly by while I pull out my wallet each time we go to a café or purchase a bottle of wine.

"You'll live with me in the housing they provide, won't you?" My heart races a little as I ask. It's obviously the most economical way for us to be together there but it's also a major step in our relationship.

His arm tightens around my shoulder. "We'll live together. I'll help you with all your other expenses. I'll cook for you and every day when you're done at the art school, I'll be waiting outside the door to walk you back to our place."

"I can cover a lot of the expenses," I say sheepishly. I have no idea what his salary was at the firehouse. I know that since he won't be working for the next few months that he'll be dependent on his savings for necessities. I'm not about to allow him to eat through that so I can follow my own life's dream of being an artist.

"Bridget." He cradles my hand in his as he brings it to his lips for a soft kiss. "Maisy and I came to an agreement."

"An agreement?" I don't feel an ounce of hesitation as I ask. It's different now. I've met Maisy and that has given me insight I didn't have a day ago. She's not the evil, self-centered creature I conjured up in my mind. She's a woman. She's just a woman who loved Dane once.

He sighs. "She wouldn't leave the house because she didn't want to give up her investment in it. She admitted last night that it was because she was pissed at me for leaving. I knew it. It was obvious but I'm glad she finally gave up."

"I know the house was sold."

"You do?" He tips my chin back with his hand so he can look at me directly. "How do you know that?"

"I went there this morning," I admit with a weak grin. "I took the subway to Queens. It's a nice house, Dane."

"It sold within hours after it was listed." A ghost of a smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. "I kept everything looking great when I lived there."

I reach up to touch his cheek. "I can see why you loved it."

He straightens his back. "It was my home but it's sold now and Maisy agreed to take a small percentage of the sale price. I wanted her to have that. We shared expenses and at one time it felt like our house, not just mine."

I give him an empathetic nod. It's the last chapter in a love story that didn't have a happy ending. They're parting on good terms and with respect for each other which is more than many couples have when their love dies.

"I'm going to investment most of that money but I'll use some for our Paris adventure."

My heart is pounding as I look up into his dark brown eyes. "We're really going to do this?"

"We are," he growls. "We're going to start our life together there, Bridget. It's the life we were always meant to have."

I smile as I reach up so his lips can find mine for a kiss that speaks of the promise of every tomorrow that awaits us.

T
hree Months Later

"Your landlord hasn't rented out your apartment while you’ve been gone, has he?" He leans back onto the sheets of the bed. "We have a place to live in New York, right?"

"Maybe," I tease with a serious expression and a half-shrug of my shoulder.

He cocks a dark brow before running his hand over his beard. "What does that mean?"

"Have I told you how young you look with that beard?" I stroke my hand across his jaw. "I like it a lot."

"You think I look young?" He pulls the sheet over his naked groin. "How old do I look?"

"Old enough to be a dad." I pat my stomach. "When we get back to Manhattan we'll see that doctor Cleo recommended and we'll find out if we're having a daughter or a son."

"It's a boy." He leans forward to cup his hand over mine. "I know it's a boy."

I know that too. I'd seen a doctor here in Paris after I missed my period shortly after we arrived here. I knew before he told me that I was pregnant, that the baby had been conceived the night Dane left the airplane ticket on my pillow. I'd felt different when I woke up the next day and that feeling of pure joy and contentment had only gotten stronger after we'd moved here and decorated the small studio apartment the school had provided for us.

"It is a boy," I whisper as I look down at the gentle curve of my belly. I'm barely starting to show and unless someone knew that there was a life growing within me, they wouldn't guess that I was expecting a child with the man I love.

He moves even closer, resting his cheek against mine. "Did the doctor tell you that, Bridget?"

"No," I say honestly. "I feel it but I'll be so happy if it's a girl too."

Dane swallows hard and nods his head as he taps his chest. "Me too."

I stare at the tattoo on his chest. He's explained it's meaning several times but I've never asked him to translate what each word means. It's a German poem that his mother wrote for him and his brother when they were toddlers. I'll meet his brother when we get back to New York. Dane's insistence on getting him to attend our wedding paid off when Landon called to say he'd be there, all Dane had to do was name the time and place.

"Zoe will pick us up at the airport," I say quietly. I hate to leave this place. We only have one more week here before we have to head back to the lives we left behind.  My portraits had been so well received here that I've been granted a gallery showing of my own back in New York. I've started to garner the attention of art collectors across the globe and the biggest supporter through all of it has been Dane.

He cups my face in his hands. His right thumb brushes over my cheek. "I told my mother that I was going to marry you once we got back to New York."

"What did she say?"

"She was happy." A small smile takes over his mouth. "She told me she was happy for us."

I believe him. Anja has come to Paris twice since we've been here and although the first visit was filled with silent pauses and awkward glances, she'd taken the time to get to know me. She'd come to my first gallery showing here and had greeted my parents with a quick embrace and thoughtful words about how talented she thought I was.

By the time she flew across the ocean to see us again, Dane had told her about the baby. She was emotional, open and when she spoke about meeting her first grandchild there were tears in her eyes.

We may never be as close as she still is to Maisy, but we're making progress and the arrival of our baby in just under a half a year, will cement our bond more. I feel it.

"I don't want a big wedding," I repeat the same thing I've said almost daily since he proposed a month ago. "I don't need a ring either."

"I have a ring for you." He taps his bare chest. "I have vows for you too."

"What?"

"My mother gave me my father's ring after he died. It was his wedding band. I'm having a diamond put into that and they'll size it to fit this finger." He runs his index finger over my left hand. "It's at that jeweler we saw near the market. They do amazing work."

I'd sat on a bench, sipping a fruit juice while Dane had wandered into that shop last week. He'd emerged with a wide grin on his face and little to say. I knew that he'd gone inside to look at rings, but now, as I realize the meaning behind the ring I'll wear forever, I'm overcome with pure emotion.

"I started writing my vows to you when we got to Paris," he confesses. "I'm working on them but I already know the last line."

"Tell me what the last line is."

""My heart is yours. Keep it forever. Never let it go."

I reach forward to rest my hand over his against his bare chest and just as I lean in to kiss his mouth, I whisper the words back to him. "My heart is yours. Keep it forever. Never let it go."

D
ane and Bridget had to face many hurdles as they journeyed towards their happily-ever-after.  I want to continue to tell their story as they move towards marriage and the arrival of their new baby.

I am so grateful to the people who invest their time in reading my books. I've been fortunate in that I've had an opportunity to meet some of you the past few months. You inspire me to write and create these characters and their unique stories.

As a gift to all of you I'm going to be sharing another novella that continues Dane and Bridget's beautiful love story. It will pick up right when they arrive back in New York and will focus on their life as a family and how that impacts Bridget's career and Dane's integration back into his life as a New York City firefighter. You'll also get to be witness to their small, intimate wedding.

This book
will not
be available for sale. It is strictly a free gift given to my readers.

If you'd like to receive this novella, please join the mailing list here:

Click here to join now!

I promise I won't send out emails about anything that is unrelated to my books.

Dane and Bridget will be back in the fall, in a story written just for you.

Xo

A
Three – Part Series

"I know you, don't I?"

He doesn't. He's been watching me from across the room since he walked in right after the first model hit the catwalk.  I expected all kinds of men to file through the door tonight. Even though I'd arranged for the premiere fashion show of the Liore lingerie brand to be held in an abandoned warehouse on the Lower East Side, I knew it would draw a specific, upscale, crowd.

One glance around the room and it's easy to spot the familiar celebrity faces, but hidden within the throngs of people who have gathered in this space, are friends of the company's owner and the competition, clearly visible beneath the mask of a grin and a small lie about being an acquaintance of one of the models.

I'd tossed the guest list aside when I saw the first media crew approaching the sliding metal door that leads into the space. I wanted the attention, and if it meant people who weren't invited drifted in to watch the parade of scantily clad women march up and down the makeshift stage that was constructed, hours ago, I'm on board. Gabriel Foster, the owner of the Liore boutiques, paid me well to get as many eyes as I could manage on his product, and I've done that, in spades.

"Excuse me." The stranger taps me on my forearm. "I think we've met."

I look up and into his face. It's handsome. It's so handsome that I'd remember meeting him, or even seeing him in passing on the street. 

"I'm sorry," I say patiently. "I've very busy right now. I assure you that we've never met."

"You're 2B," he murmurs in a deep growl. "I remember you from the lavatory."

I'd moved to Manhattan six months ago after graduating from college. I've had my fair share of men hit on me, which says little about the way I look and more about the fact that single women in this city seem to be a rarity. I may have stood out in a crowd back in the small town I lived in on the outskirts of Boston, but here, in one of the most populous cities in the world, my long dark hair and green eyes don't set me apart from the crowd. I'm just another woman who doesn't sport a ring on her left hand which means I'm ripe for the attention of any man who is looking for someone to warm the other half of his bed.

I've grown accustomed to the expected requests to buy me a drink and within that there have been a few who have actually approached me with an intelligent conversation in their back pocket, but this one, this may be the one that I'll remember long after tonight.

"The lavatory?" I adjust my left heel, hoping that the movement will relieve the pressure I feel on the ball of my foot. I've been wearing these shoes all day and I'm ready to head home to kick them off so I can crawl into a warm tub.