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Authors: Carla Krae

Turn the Page

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TURN THE PAGE

 

One week. It's all the time
left on Jacob's tour, but seven more days is an excruciating wait
for him and Beth after two months apart.
Takes place after "My Once and Future Love". Release date: May
13th, 2012.

 

e-Books are
not
transferable. They
cannot be sold, shared, or given away, as this is an infringement
on the copyright of this work
.

By Carla Krae

Published by Carla Krae at Smashwords.

Copyright 2012 Carla Krae

The right of Carla Krae to be identified as
the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with
the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

First printed 2012

First Edition

This book is a work of fiction. The names,
characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s
imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be
construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead,
actual events, locale or organizations is entirely
coincidental.

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book
may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written
permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in
critical articles and reviews.

 

TURN THE PAGE

 

A
MY ONCE AND FUTURE
LOVE
story

 

Chapter One

December Twenty-fifth

Did he live in hotel rooms, airplanes, or on
stage? After two months away from home, he couldn’t tell. Every
the road has gone too long
song he’d ever heard was running
through his mind. Just in a span of twenty-four hours, he’d flown
from Russia to Toronto to Virginia. Thank God for Christmas. The
holiday meant no one argued much with the detour he took before the
Vancouver concert tomorrow.

The car pulled up at a cute small-town house
decorated in multi-colored lights. Jacob Lindsey thanked the driver
and got out with his carry-on. It was after eight in the morning,
but the clouds above weren’t letting a lot of light through. He
knocked twice on the door with a soft touch.

The man that answered the door was tall and a
bit older than him. “Wasn’t expecting you.”

“Who’s at the door?” a woman asked.

“Jake.”

“Well, for goodness sake, Andrew, let him
in!” She pushed her husband aside. “Merry Christmas. Please come
in.”

“Darcy, yes? Nice to meet you,” Jacob said.
Beth’s brother wasn’t quite as welcoming, but Jacob offered his
hand and they shook.

“They don’t have a phone where you came from,
Jake?”

“Andrew! Go give Sarah her bottle.” She
glared at him and he walked away. “I’m sorry. He’s just protective,
though as long as you’ve known Beth, you probably already know
that.”

“Quite.” He set his luggage down, took off
his scarf and gloves and coat, and hung them on the coat rack. “Has
Beth been up?”

“Not yet, which is unusual. I hope she slept
well.”

“Why wouldn’t she?”

“Mr. Lindsey, I think you can guess.”

“Jake, please. I don’t follow.”

She shook her head, a bit of a smile on her
face creating one of those looks women gave men. “Have you eaten?
Do you drink coffee?”

“No, and yes, please. When do you think Beth
will wake?”

“Have a seat. Is your tour over?”

“No, unfortunately. I have to be in Vancouver
tomorrow.”

“Hey, somebody? Escapee baby in here!” rung
out from down the hall. His lady’s sweet voice. Like a siren call,
it drew him to his feet and toward the sound.

Andrew had let the baby in Beth’s room. She
toddled back to her father as Jacob slipped through the doorway.
Her back was to him. He closed the door.

“Too early for Christmas,” she mumbled.

“It’s nearing nine, lazy bones.”

“I’m dreaming…”

“In
Rudolph
pajamas?” Adorable, by the
way.

“It’s possible.”

“Is it possible to dream with you, love?”

“Ohmigod.” She rolled over to be face-to-face
with him. “Are you here?” she whispered.

“You tell me.” He kissed her with all the
longing of two months away. Wetness soon brushed his cheek and he
wiped her tears away with his thumbs. She dropped off the bed onto
his lap and wrapped around him. Her body was a bit lighter than the
last time he held her; her hair at least an inch longer.

“How?” she gasped.

He pulled back just far enough to speak. “I
had to come. We’re on traveling days, and I finally said
screw
it
—we’re going to see our families one damn bloody day out of
the year. You have me for twenty-four hours.”

“I’ll take it! God, I’ve missed you!”

He kissed her again. “Missed you, too…so
much. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

What? “
Bethie
…” The words he’d waited
ten years for. “Again?”

“I love you, Jacob. I have for so long. I
just didn’t have the words.”

“Think your dad would kill me if I shagged
you right now?”

She giggled. “Save it for later, big boy. I
don’t want an audience.”

He sighed, then smiled as wide as his face
would go. “Happy Christmas, sweetheart.”

“Mmm. Best Christmas ever.”

He could’ve stayed reveling in her scent, her
touch, forever, but they didn’t get long before someone coughed in
the hallway.

She moved off his lap and opened the door.
“Something I can help you with?”

“Nope, just passing by,” Darcy said, then
winked. Mr. Lawson cleared his throat and went to the living
room.

Silly busybodies. Beth met his eyes and he
snickered. With her family gone, he said, “Get dressed, woman. I
have presents.”

She pouted. “But yours is at home.”

“Correction—I already got mine.”

Her cheeks turned pink. “Oh. Yeah. Gee, if
I’d known you were
that
easy to please…”

“Hush, vixen, or I withhold your gifts until
next
Christmas.”

When she left him in the hallway, he
freshened up in the bathroom, then had nowhere else to go but the
living room to wait with her kin. Darcy was a gracious hostess,
handing him the coffee she’d offered before starting breakfast.

Beth finally appeared in a white dress shirt
and burgundy pants, the necklace he’d given her in Bora Bora
peeking from inside her collar. Her hair was down and straight.
When she bent down to give him a peck, he could smell the
conditioner she’d used since she was fourteen.

They ate, then the Lawsons moved to the tree
to open gifts. He and Beth sat on the loveseat, her leg touching
his. Darcy started a pot of hot wassail, which she offered in
Styrofoam cups to the neighbors that dropped by. All the activity
made Beth fidget, so he tried to hold her hand when he could. Some
of Darcy and Andrew’s friends might’ve recognized him, but no one
made a scene.

The warmth, the cheer, the conversation…it
was all very homey, and very different from the Christmases with
Mother. Oh, they’d always been pleasant, but with just the two of
them since he was five years old, they had struggled to fill the
hours.

Later in the evening, he and Beth were left
alone for a moment. He led her to the window seat behind the tree
and kissed her.

“What was that for?” she asked.

“Opportunity. Listen…” He fidgeted with a
small box he pulled from his pocket. “I wanted to give you this. We
can exchange the rest at home, but I couldn’t wait.” He handed over
the Tiffany box.

Her blue eyes widened. “Jacob, this is—”

“Just open it.”

Inside was a silver fob with one key on the
ring. “A key?”

“My key. Don’t wig out—I’m not asking for
anything, I just… I want you to know you’re welcome in my home just
as much as before, only—”

She put a finger to his lips and smiled. “I
understand. Thank you.”

He let out a breath of relief and gathered
her into his arms. “Merry Christmas, Beth.” Two months had given
him a lot of time to think, so much time to miss her, and she
probably didn’t understand what the key really meant, but he hoped
she’d use it. Hoped she would come to consider his home like her
own.

“Merry Christmas, Jacob. I’m so glad you
came.” She laced her fingers with his and led him to the
kitchen.

After three Christmases with Beth by his
side, he couldn’t,
wouldn’t
, have done another without
her.

Not when they were finally together
again.

Not when she finally told him she loved
him.

So, he didn’t care about sleeping in the
living room to appease her family instead of holding her in bed.
They’d had a good day and while the sofa didn’t pull out, it was
big enough for comfort and the room was dark (except for the lights
on the tree) and warm. Almost enough to convince his buggered
internal clock to sleep.

His eyes opened when the blanket lifted off
his chest. “Mmm, my Bethie…”

She draped her body over him. “Didn’t mean to
wake you,” she whispered.

He yawned. “Didn’t. I’m still on Russian
time.”

She caressed his face. “Sleep if you want to.
I just wanted to be close while you’re here.”

And didn’t that shoot him to Cloud Nine. He
lifted his head to kiss her. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.” She laid her head on his
pec. “You should’ve called more.”

“I’m sorry. My assistant lost my phone
charger. I wish you were with me.” The next album, next tour, he’d
insist upon it, even if he had to kidnap her.

“Does your phone work now?”

“Replaced the charger yesterday.”

“Good.” She raised her head. “You worried
me.”

“I’m here.” Sliding his hand up her back, he
urged her forward to meet his lips.

Too soon, it would be morning and he’d have
to walk out the door again, but for now, she was in his arms where
she belonged. Every second was precious and painful. The week to
come might be harder to bear after this brief sweetness, but how
could he resist? He wanted it all—the best job in the world
and
the love of his life.

Morning

Shifting under her, he tried again to get her
to let him up. “Bethie-love, I have to leave.

She nuzzled into the crook of his neck and
mumbled, “Just five more minutes.”

He looked at his watch. “Gave you those ten
minutes ago. Up.”

“Don’t wanna.”

He rolled them over on her brother’s deep
sofa. “Gonna miss my flight if I don’t get up now.” Standing, he
tossed the blanket back over her. It was barely sunrise and cold in
the living room.

It was too late to take a shower, so he
grabbed a toothbrush, toothpaste, and deodorant along with clean
clothes to take to the bathroom. His appearance didn’t matter until
he got on stage later tonight, but the lads would give him a bunch
of guff if he stunk on the plane. She was watching him, but he
didn’t dare turn around. The car would pick him up in ten
minutes.

****

This was too early even for me, but since I
wouldn’t have him home for a week, I took in the living picture of
him gathering his clothes and toiletries and walking down the hall.
His scent floated up from the pillow, a mix of shampoo, cologne,
and essential Jacob, the recipe not changing much since he was
sixteen.

Feeling needier than I wanted to be, I got up
and tapped twice on the bathroom door with one finger. He opened it
and I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his neck.
“Just one more week,” he whispered in my ear.

I nodded, rubbing the sides of our faces
together, then lifted my head, and our lips met. Stubble chafed my
face, but I didn’t care. We almost never did chaste kisses and this
was no exception.

He set me on the counter.

I wrapped my legs around his hips.

He hadn’t put on a shirt, yet, so my hands
were exploring all that yummy skin while it was in reach. Built so
beautifully, my love, with broad shoulders and defined muscles
everywhere I could touch. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss,
his tongue teasing my mouth. It felt so good to be in his arms
again.

A baby cried. My niece Sarah.

I froze, then Jacob did.

We heard doors open and close, then Darcy’s
voice through the wall, soothing her daughter. I slid off the
counter, but not out of his arms. Babies…it’s like they know.

His chest started to shake. Glancing up, I
realized he was laughing.
Stop it
, I mouthed. He grinned and
wiggled his fingers under my ribs, making me muffle a squeak in his
breastbone that would give us away. I reached for the door. He
nipped my neck, then let me go. After peeking into the hallway, I
escaped to the kitchen.

After nearly two months without my boyfriend,
one day wasn’t enough, even if he did make it for Christmas. This
tour had definitely put a crimp in the progress of our developing
relationship.

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