Filed To Story: The Things We Leave Unfinished Novel Free
“Not in the least. I would have put it with the rubbish myself, except I wanted you to know what was happening.” There was no jab in the statement, just facts.
“Thank you.” He watched her silently for a moment, choosing his next words carefully. “Your visa appointment is coming up in a few months, right?”
She nodded. “May.” Almost a year after they’d begun the process.
“I want you to promise me something,” he said softly.
“What?”
“Promise me that if anything happens to me, you’ll take him to the States.”
She blinked. “Don’t say things like that.”
He crossed the room, then dropped to her eye level, putting his hands on the arm of the rocking chair. “There is nothing more important to me than your lives-yours and William’s. Nothing. You’re right-it’s not just about us anymore. You’ll be safe in Colorado. Safe from the war, from poverty, from your god-awful parents. So please, promise me that you’ll take him.”
Her brow knit as she considered the request. “If something happens to you,” she clarified.
He nodded.
“Okay. I promise if anything happens to you, I’ll take William to Colorado.”
He leaned in slowly and brushed a chaste kiss over her lips. “Thank you.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m giving you permission to die.” Her gaze turned stern.
“Noted.” He kissed William’s head, then rose. “Since you’re feeding him, I’m going to go work on feeding you. I love you, Scarlett.”
“I love you, too.”
He left his wife and son in the nursery and went straight to the kitchen…and threw the rattle in the trash where it belonged.
Scarlett and William were Stantons.
They were his.
Georgia
Dear Jameson,
You’ve only been gone a few days, and yet I miss you as if it’s been years. This is so much harder than when we were at Middle Wallop. Now, I know what it’s like to be your wife. To lie beside you at night and wake to your smile in the morning. I asked again this morning about the transfer request, but so far there is no news. Hopefully tomorrow. I can’t bear being so far from you, knowing that you fly into danger and I can do nothing but sit here and wait. I can’t even welcome you home. I love you, Jameson. Stay safe. Our fates are intertwined, for I cannot exist in a world where you do not.
Love,
Scarlett
“Are you ready for this?” Noah asked with an excited smile, straightening his tie as we sat parked in front of the studio, the January snow flurrying by.
“If I’m not?” My eyebrows arched.
“It will be awkward in an hour when everyone shows up, but we can lock the door, turn off the lights, and pretend we’re not here.” He lifted my hand and kissed the inside of my wrist, sending a jolt of need straight through me. I’d had him in my bed nearly every night for the past two and a half months, and the need hadn’t lessened. All he had to do was look at me, and I was ready for him. “But I am willing to offer any bribe you want just to see what you’ve been creating in there.”
“I am pretty proud of my little collection.” I’d just about worked my fingers off getting ready for this night. There were a few dozen minor pieces ready for sale, and a few larger ones I’d mostly made for display. Invitations had gone out, replies received, and now all I could do was open the doors and pray I hadn’t wasted what was left of my bank account.
“I’m proud of you.” This time he kissed my lips, sucking lightly on the lower one before releasing it. I was completely and thoroughly addicted to this man. It was only supposed to be a fling-that was the deal. He’d leave as soon as the book was finished, and watching the days tick by only served to remind me that we were living on borrowed time. Every day I expected him to tell me it was done, but it wasn’t. Pretty soon he’d be flirting with missing the print deadline if he wasn’t careful. “I know tonight is going to be just as amazing as you are.”
“Glad one of us is certain.” I sucked in a breath and reminded myself that this was Poplar Grove, Colorado, not New York City. There were no paparazzi, no movie stars or execs, no gossip columnists, and no one who feigned interest in me just to get five minutes with Damian. This was mine-only mine-and Noah was going to be the first person I shared it with.
He held my hand as we walked to the door, then blocked the wind as I fumbled with my key to get the heavy glass open. Then I led him inside the dark space.
“Wait right here. Close your eyes.” I wanted to see his face when the lights came on.
“You’d think it was my birthday and not yours,” he teased.
I laughed, then walked to the light switch once I was certain his eyes were well and truly closed. The space was as familiar to me as my bedroom by now. I could find my way blindfolded if I needed to.
I flipped the switch, and the gallery lit up in a dozen places. There were vases and small sculptures lining the glass shelves on the walls, two bigger tower pieces in each bay window, and in the center, on a pedestal highlighted with its own lighting, sat my favorite piece.
“You can open your eyes,” I said softly, then held my breath as Noah’s dark gaze swept over the gallery in appreciation, his smile wide as he took it all in, then fixed on the pedestal.
“Georgia,” he whispered with a shake of his head. “My God.”
“Do you like it?” I slid in to his side, and he tucked his arm around my waist, pulling me tighter.
“It’s magnificent.”
My favorite piece of the collection was a crown composed of glass icicles ranging from six to ten inches long. “Get it?” A corner of my mouth lifted in a smirk.
“It’s befitting of an Ice Queen,” he answered with a low chuckle. “Though you’re anything but cold. It’s incredible.”
“Thank you. I never commented on their little digs because there’s power in silence and grace in holding your head high, but I figured why not own it? I’m the only person who gets to define me anymore, and besides, maybe I’ll make a crown of flames next.” I could already see it taking shape in my mind.
“You are incredible, Georgia Stanton.” He turned and cradled my face, then kissed me deeply. “Thank you for sharing this with me, and just in case I don’t get to say it again before we go home, happy birthday.”
“Thank you,” I said against his mouth, savoring our last few minutes of privacy before the catering staff arrived.
Within the hour, the doors were open, and the gallery filled with guests from my small town. I greeted the first dozen people, showing them around the space with Noah at my side. Lydia-our housekeeper-and her daughter arrived, then Hazel and Owen, Cecilia Cochran from the library, Mom-
I gasped, my free hand flying to my mouth. Noah’s arm came around my waist, steadying me as Mom came through the small crowd, wearing a pale pink sheath and a shaky smile.
“Happy birthday, Georgia,” she said softly, hugging me gently, then releasing me with her usual two pats.
“Mom?” Shock wasn’t an adequate word.
New Book: Returned To Make Them Pay
On her wedding anniversary, Alicia is drugged and stumbles into the wrong room—straight into the arms of the powerful Caden Ward, a man rumored never to touch women. Their night of passion shocks even him, especially when he discovers she’s still a virgin after two years of marriage to Joshua Yates.