Authors: Winter Renshaw
BELLAMY
ONE YEAR LATER
Puerto Vallarta at night is vibrant.
Puerto Vallarta in the morning is serene.
Puerto Vallarta in the middle of the afternoon, on a sandy
beach with ocean waves crashing behind a makeshift altar is breathtaking.
My gauzy ivory dress whips around my legs as I carry a
bouquet of calla lilies down a sandy aisle scattered with pink rose petals.
Dane stands under the canopy, his hair soft and free from
product as he dons an untucked white shirt and cuffed linen pants. I smirk
imagining Beckham picking out his clothes and helping him get ready. I could
easily get used to casual, relaxed Dane, but I’m sure I’d miss his buttoned-up
counterpart. All I know is I’m madly in love with every faceted side of that
man.
Our gazes hold as a solitary cellist plays Chopin’s
Nocturne in E-flat Major
.
My sister waits up ahead, smiling bright and blinking away
tears. Odessa is seated next to Jensen on a folding chair. Beckham grips Dane’s
shoulders and gifts him a reassuring pat as he tosses me a wink.
I invited the girls out under the guise of a ladies’
weekend, and I casually mentioned they could bring the guys too, assuring we
could all do our own things and meet up in the evenings for couple-y things.
Little did they know, they were going to be attending a
wedding.
I sent my parents a letter last month, right after Dane
proposed. Perhaps it was my way of closing that chapter of my life, but I
assured them that I was happy, Waverly was thriving, and that I hoped someday
they would understand that our lives were never supposed to belong to anyone
but ourselves.
I simply did what needed to be done.
No one replied. Maybe the letter was intercepted or maybe it
was ripped to shreds and burned. I’ll never know. That’s in my past. I’m moving
on with Dane, and I’m going to live this amazingly beautiful life to the
absolute fullest because it’s all mine and it’s such a gift.
Dane takes my hand after I hand my bouquet to Waverly and
gives it a gentle squeeze, and a justice of the peace begins the ceremony.
***
We dance under a starry sky under a blanket of stars. My
toes freeze in the ocean water, but none of that matters. I can’t stop staring
at my beautiful husband. Our guests have long since retired to their hotel
suites, but neither of us is ready to end this magical day yet.
“Thank you for this beautiful day.” I rise on my toes,
bringing my mouth to us and stealing a kiss.
I can do that now.
I don’t have to ask for permission.
Of course we still
play
sometimes.
Behind closed doors, when he says the word, I fall to my
knees, submit to him, and cherish every moment. A tiger can’t change his
stripes, and I would never expect Dane to suppress his deepest desires.
But our power has balanced. I am his equal. I love him, and
he loves me. As Dane would say, it’s deliciously uncomplicated.
“You’re most welcome,” he says, his mouth tasting mine.
The wind whips my hair around. I’ve celebrated hard today.
My makeup is melted. My hair is a mess. My eyelids are so heavy I can barely
see anymore. But I want to keep going because the moment this day is over, all
we’ll have are the memories. I dig my toes in the sand as if that could anchor
me to this moment, and I slip my arms around my husband.
“It’s you and me,” he says, kissing the top of my head.
“Who’d have thought our broken, twisted paths would’ve led us here?”
Dane twirls me in the moonlight and smiles. For the first
several months of knowing him, he rarely offered smiles. Now they’re a
mainstay.
My love makes him happy.
“Aren’t you exhausted?” he asks, pulling me back into him.
“Deliriously so.” I grin, breathing in the salty air as it
mixes with what remains of his cologne.
He threads his fingers through mine and pulls me away from
the lapping shore. “Come. This day isn’t over until I make love to my wife.”
The End.
AMAZON BESTSELLING
AUTHOR Winter Renshaw recently celebrated her third 29th birthday. By day, she
wrangles kids and dogs, and by night, she wrangles words. She loves peonies,
lipstick, and balmy summer days. Chips and salsa are her jam, and so is
cruising down the highway with the windows down and the air blasting while 80s
rock blares from the speakers of her Mom-UV.
She would describe her
writing style as sexy, conflicted, and laced with heart. Her heroes are always
alpha and her heroines are always smart and independent. HEA guaranteed.
You can friend Winter
here:
www.facebook.com/winterrenshawauthor
or
like
here:
www.facebook.com/authorwinterrenshaw
And if you'd like to be the first to know
when a new book is coming out, please sign up for her private mailing list here
--->
http://eepurl.com/bfQU2j
To join
Winter
’s
Facebook reader group/street team, CAMP WINTER, click here
à
https://www.facebook.com/groups/429756887196229/
PAGE AHEAD for a BONUS/DELETED scene from
Arrogant Master…
BONUS/DELETED SCENE – UNEDITED
*This was originally chapter 2!
My father sits at the head of the dining room table, exactly
where I predicted he would be.
“I’m
so
sorry.” I
rush to the seat next to him, smiling like a fool
who’s
just won the lottery, and yank out a chair before plopping down. I’m getting
out of here, and it starts now. Tonight. “You’ll never believe what happened
tonight!”
A quick read of his expression tells me he’s in a most
receptive mood tonight, and the
twitch of his lips suggest
he’s fighting a pleased smile.
“There’s this guy at Bible study,” I say, twirling my hair
around my finger like a teenager in love, but on a twenty-two year old scale. I
can’t overdo this or he’ll know. I release my hair and lean forward. “His name
is Cortland. I’ve noticed him over the last few months, but I’ve always kept to
myself, you know, because you always said it wasn’t appropriate for a lady to
approach a man.”
He brings his hand up to his jaw, leaning back and nodding
as he clings onto my words like I’m telling some gripping story.
“Anyway, he came up to me tonight as we were leaving, and
asked if it would be okay if he could court me.” I lift my eyebrows and force a
smile so big it hurts inside and out. “He’s nice, Dad. And his family is like
ours
.”
“What does he do for a living?” My father asks, though he
knows damn well. I’m sure he grilled Cortland over lunch, and I’m sure he’s
asked around about his family.
“His father owns a medical equipment company, and he’s a
traveling salesman for them. He does travel a lot, but he’s hoping to be
promoted someday so he can be more of a family man.”
Dad’s mouth curls, and his eyes crinkle at the corners. “I’d
appreciate a phone call next time you’re going to be late, but I’ll make an
exception tonight.”
Hard to call when I’m
not allowed to have a cell phone…
His words are stern, but he’s practically beaming from every
pore. He’s thrilled about Cortland, which is
exactly
what I predicted.
My father is thrilled about the potential of Cortland and
me.
My stomach sinks, and my artificial expression
threatens
to fade. I can’t let it. All the strength I have
goes into putting on a happy face. “Do you want to meet him? I can bring him
over sometime.”
The thought of Cortland sitting at our family table, making
small talk with my mothers and blowing bullshit fakery up my father’s ass heats
my thoughts, and the thought of him ruffling my little brother’s hair with the
same hands he uses to touch me makes me want to vomit.
“I’d love to meet him.” My father stands, glancing at the
clock. Night has fallen upon the house, and we’re all required to be in bed
before ten. “Why don’t you invite him for dinner tomorrow night?”
Shit. This is moving faster than I expected. We’re full
steam ahead.
“Sure. Yeah. I can do that.” I pick at my nails, a nervous
habit I’d picked up long ago. “Are you sure you’re ready for me to start
courting?”
I know the answer, but I have to hear it straight from him.
Confirmation that I’m right about the trajectory of impending events is what I
seek.
“Bellamy.” He places his large hand over mine. They’re soft
and clean, the hands of an educated man who spends long hours running his
pharmacy in order to provide for the abnormally large family he was prodded by
God to create. “You’re a woman. You’re twenty-two. As much as it pains me to
see my firstborn fly the nest, it’s time. And I know in my heart, I’ve raised
you to make the right choices. I trust your judgment with this man.”
“But what if I don’t like him? What if we court for a while,
and I change my mind?” I bite the inside of my lip. “Or what if he’s not who he
says he is?”
His hand slides off mine before he rises from the table.
“Those aren’t things you need to worry about. Heavenly Father put him in your
life for a reason. Trust and don’t question.”
I’m still as a statue as I wait for my father’s silhouette to
disappear up the stairs, the creak of the steps filing our silent home. Sleep
won’t be in the cards for me tonight. The still, quiet hours of the night will
be better spent plotting and planning.
***
My hands tremble as I set the extra place setting. Dad
requested that Cortland take the seat next to him, and that I sit next to
Cortland tonight. I glance at the grandfather clock in the hall. Cortland will
be here any minute.
My mothers are flitting about in the kitchen, and
Summer
turns on the hand mixer, whipping up a huge batch of
mashed potatoes. The grinding, metallic sound is a nice distraction right now,
but it won’t prolong the inevitable.
Waverly skips down the stairs, looking freshly washed up for
dinner. She hops up to the table and rests against the back of a chair. “Need
help with anything?”
“Nope,” I sigh, my eyes trailing the length of the table
that’s already set. “I took care of it all while you were upstairs.”
Her nose wrinkles. I’m tense, and I shouldn’t take it out on
her, but I can’t help myself. Right now, I’d almost give anything to go back to
those carefree high school days, when my only concern was studying for tests and
fighting off advances from the boys I wasn’t allowed to date.
The
Fahnlander
boy down the street
was the only boyfriend I ever knew, and I made damn sure that whole thing was
kept hidden from my family. And by boyfriend, I mean we sat together at lunch and
passed notes in the hall.
Despite not having a true boyfriend experience growing up, I
don’t feel as though I missed out on much. I found ways to get around my
father’s stringent rules most of the time. All I crave, all I’ve ever missed
out on, is pure autonomy and genuine independence.
Waverly studies me and pulls her chair out carefully. “Are
you nervous about this or something?”
I shoot daggers her way and silently scold myself. My face
softens, if only for her sake. “Yes. I’m nervous.”
“I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. Our family is so
nice. And everyone’s so excited to have company tonight. This, like, never
happens.” Waverly smiles like she hasn’t a care in the world.
I want that.
The mixer in the kitchen goes silent, but our mothers are
still flitting around like they’re prepping a meal for the President of the
United States. When I lean in, I whisper, “What if I don’t like him? And what
if Dad likes him?”
“Dad would never make you marry someone you didn’t like.”
My head cocks hard to the right, as if to say, “
Really
?!
”
She doesn’t get it. She doesn’t understand how our father
operates. She hasn’t seen what I’ve seen or heard what I’ve heard.
He’s not who he says he is.
I just hope she never learns
that the hard way.
“Waverly, Bellamy,” our mother calls. She skips off to the
kitchen and I death march.
Outside a car door clicks, sending my heart sinking down to
my feet. He’s here.
Summer hands a bowl of tossed salad to my sister and my mom
fishes in a drawer for a set of tongs, which she promptly shoves in my hand and
nods toward the table.
The doorbell chimes a soft and cozy song, but it may as well
be a battle cry.
This is war.
This is where I fight for my freedom.
“Cortland’s here,” Waverly announces.
Thank you, Captain
Obvious.
My mother wipes her hands on her apron. “What are you
waiting for? Go get the door.”
By the time I reach the front door, I can hardly breathe.
I’ve never had a panic attack before, but I think this might be what it feels
like. The walls close, my head pounds, and my vision
blurs
.
Sucking in deep breaths, I lurch for the handle and open the door.
He’s gorgeous.
And evil.
With a hand in the pocket of his khakis and the other hand
holding a bouquet of spring lilies, his lips curl into the widest grin I’ve
ever seen. He looks so deceptively benign. Like some deliciously handsome man
who stepped right off the pages of a J. Crew catalog. The way he stares at me,
like I’m the only girl in the world, used to send butterflies soaring in my
center.
Now it makes me sick.
He leans in, owning the courage of a man unafraid to steal a
kiss at the most inappropriate of times.
“No,” I whisper. “We’re courting now, remember? You can’t
kiss me. You can’t touch me. We don’t know each other
like that
.”
“Is this the man of the hour?” My father’s voice bellows
from behind me, sending a quick shock to my heart. I can only hope he didn’t
see Cortland try to kiss me. When I step out of the way, my father brushes by
and extends his hand to meet that of my suitor.
“Nice to meet you, Dr. Miller.” Cortland flashes a megawatt
grin which
makes him look too boy-next-door and not nearly
enough psychopath-who-should-not-be-marrying-your-daughter. “Thank you so much
for having me over tonight.”
“Welcome, welcome.” My mother comes in from around the
corner, her lips slicked in red and her apron long gone. She cleans up quick,
and she cleans up well. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a low bun, and
she’s suddenly wearing a modest pair of cubic zirconia studs. “Come on in.
Supper’s
on the table. Bellamy can show you to your seat.”
“These are for the women of the house,” Cortland hands her
the bouquet, and watches as she brings them to her nose and inhales.
“Thank you so much. You’re so sweet. I’m going to stick
these in water real quick.” She disappears, and the three of us amble into the
dining room.
We take our spots, Cortland sitting on my father’s left. The
little kids are at the furthest end of the table with Kath, my father’s third
wife.
“Cortland, would you mind saying grace tonight?” My father
wastes no time putting him on the spot, though I think it’s a test of sorts.
We hold hands in prayer, though Cortland squeezes mine.
Hard.
“Dear Heavenly Father,” he says, his eyes closed tight.
“Thank thee for the many blessings you have bestowed upon us. Thank thee for
the fellowship we are about to enjoy this evening. And thank thee for the
refreshments about to nourish and strengthen our bodies. Bless all those who
gather in your name tonight. Amen.”
“Amen.” My father adds. “Thank you, Cortland.”
“Beautiful,” my mother says.
Oh, God. She’s got stars in her eyes. I see them from my
side of the table.
“So, my daughter tells me your father owns a medical supply
company?” My father takes a crescent roll from a basket and passes it to
Cortland.
“He does,” he replies. “Been in our family for generations.
Started out selling iron lungs in the forties and fifties. Now we sell just
about everything under the sun.”
“You enjoy selling?” My father chews slowly, savoring each
slow minute that drips by in the presence of this monster.
“My father wanted me to learn the business from the bottom
up, so that I could take over eventually. I’m the oldest son, so the company
will be in my hands whenever my father eventually retires,” Cortland injects an
air of respect into his words that I know my father appreciates. “I’m learning
a lot, and my father thinks I’m a natural-born salesman, but my heart is in
management. I like to lead.”
More like he likes to control.
“Did you attend college?” Summer asks.
“BYU,” he boasts. “Graduated with a degree in Business
Management a couple years ago.”
“Nice.” My father takes two scoops of mashed potatoes and
passes the bowl on. “How many brothers and sisters do you have?”
Cortland counts on his fingers and laughs. “Oh, gosh.
Twelve.”
My father continues asking Cortland questions in a feeble
attempt to pretend like this is their first meeting. I tune them out. None of
it matters. Nothing about him could possibly make me un-see the dark side of
him. There’s no going back, and there’s no changing my mind.
I know what I kind of life I want, and it’s not a life with
any part of Cortland in it.
When the food is nearly gone and we’ve all had our fill, my
mothers begin clean up while Waverly takes the younger kids into the family
room. It’s just
me, Cortland, and Dad
.
“I’m so ready to settle down,” Cortland says, turning to
look at me. “Sometimes you see someone, and you just know.”
“I know exactly how that goes. I see a lot of
myself and Jane
in you two. Bellamy’s mother caught my eye
at church, and it was all over from there.”
“So you know.”
“I sure do.” My father leans in. “Bellamy, you’re being
awfully quiet over there.”