Authors: Michelle A Valentine
Kathy let out a sarcastic laugh just as Lane emerged from the kitchen, glass in hand. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” I answered quickly.
Lane raised an eyebrow at me and twisted her lips. “Nothing, huh? Didn’t sound like nothing to me.”
Desperate to get away from the situation, I stood and took her hand. “Let’s take a walk.”
Lane’s gaze darted between me and her mother. “Oooookay?”
She knew something was up. I had to get her out of this room so I could tell her that Kathy was on to us. I tugged her towards the front door, but as soon as my hand reached the knob I heard her mom say, “Noel, we’ll talk again later.”
My shoulders tensed. Lane was just like her mom sometimes, relentless, so I knew we’d have to come clean to her tonight. She wouldn’t let it go until we did. But I couldn’t worry about that right now. Right now, I had bigger things on my mind—like what this beautiful creature was about to say when I asked her a very important question a few heartbeats from now.
Chapter 13
Lane’s tiny hand fit perfectly inside mine. I held on tight to it as I led her around the backside of the house. Nerves inside my skin jittered. What I was about to do hopefully would change both our lives. All I needed was for her to say yes.
“What was that about in there? Did you say something to her?” Lane asked, breaking me out of my thought process.
“No. Nothing. But she knows,” I answered.
“Why did you make such a scene at the car?”
I stopped and turned her to face me. “I’m sorry, but I was worried about you. Besides, Kathy’s smart. I’m sure she would’ve picked up on it soon anyhow. She point blank asked me in there when we were going to tell her that you’re pregnant.”
Lane gasped and brought her hand to her mouth. “Oh my God. What are we going to tell her?”
She was starting to freak, so I had to reel her back in. I placed both hands on her shoulders and dipped my head, forcing her to look me in the eye. “Don’t worry. We’re adults. Things are going to be okay. If this would’ve been five years ago, yeah she might’ve given us some shit. They all would’ve. But this baby, it’s part me and part you. Our families are going to love it.”
A single tear slipped down her cheek, and I wiped it away with my thumb. “Things will be perfect, Lane. There’s nothing we can’t accomplish together, including raising our child together. Have faith in us.”
She leaned her face into my palm, cupping it. “You really believe that?”
I nodded. “I do.”
Lane threw her arms around my neck and pressed her tiny body against mine. “I love you.”
“Forever,” I whispered before I pressed my lips to hers.
She frowned when I pulled away and grabbed her hand again. “Where are we going?”
I bit my lip. “There’s something down at the dock I want to show you.”
When we came over the hill, I turned so I could watch Lane’s expression when she saw what we had done earlier. Her eyes trailed down the dock, taking in the sight of the flower arrangements and candles lined up along the edges. The white rose petals sprinkled everywhere was the perfect touch, and I was glad Mom added that in.
“Noel…? You did all this?” she asked still not removing her eyes from the scene.
I cleared my throat. “Not totally on my own. I had some help.”
“You did?”
I nodded. “Yep. Mom and Dad.”
Her head whipped towards me. “Frank was here? Did you talk to him?”
I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. “Yeah. We’re working on things.”
“That’s fantastic news!” she exclaimed, peering up at me. “I bet that makes your mom happy.”
“And me, too. It’s hard to believe how much I actually missed him. This will be a good thing, especially now.” I placed my free hand on her stomach. “Our kid should know all of his grandparents.”
“Or
her
grandparents,” Lane corrected.
I laughed. “Or
her
. Come on. There’s more.”
“More?” I could hear the skepticism in her voice.
I led her carefully down the hill, and once on the dock, I stooped down at the first arrangement and grabbed a single rose. It was a deep, rich red, and it reminded me of how deep she worked her love into my soul. Our love was eternal.
She smiled as she took it from my outstretched hand. “Oh, Noel. It’s beautiful.”
She put it to her nose and inhaled its luscious scent with her green eyes closed tight. “Yeah, you are.”
She opened her eyes and grinned at me.
We walked together to the end of the dock where two chairs faced each other surrounded by candlelight. My Gibson guitar leaned against the railing, just waiting for me to carry out my plan. I held my hand out, gesturing for Lane to take a seat.
I sat across from her and picked up my guitar. She opened her mouth to protest, but I held up a finger to cut her off. “Before you say anything just hear me out. I’ve had this planned from the moment you came back to me. Our current situation has no effect on my feelings for you, other than making me love you even more. I had no idea it was possible to love someone so much. But I love you, Lane. You are the one for me. The only girl.”
A few soft cords sounded as I strummed the cords to an acoustic version of
Only Girl
originally by
Rihanna
but sung in the style of
Boyce Avenue
because it fit my feelings for Lane perfectly. I sang about how she made me feel like a real man, and that she was the only one who was in control of me. I gazed into her green eyes and sang about making her my wife. She placed her fingertips to her lips as her eyes glistened.
The best part of the song was conveying that every moment with her meant everything to me. Singing was the best way I could get out everything I felt. Music spoke to my heart, and I knew from past experience it spoke to hers, too.
I bit my lip as emotions overcame my mind. The last verse came out, and I stopped strumming the guitar, completely lost in her eyes and the feelings I saw there. My voice softened as I got down on one knee in front of her and laid the instrument on the dock to continue the last chorus.
“You’re the only one who understands.” I took her left hand in mine and kissed each one of her knuckles, lingering on the one above her ring finger the longest. She was truly the only girl in the world for me.
A sniff from her drew my attention. Tears poured from her eyes, and my heart pounded in my chest unsure of what those tears meant.
“Lanie Vance, I have loved you from the moment I saw you. So many times I’ve dreamed of making you my wife one day, and I think today is that day. I love you with every inch of me. I’m drawn to your fire and passion, and I don’t think I can ever be without it again. I want you everyday for the rest of my life. You and”—I leaned in and kissed her stomach and then my eyes met hers—“our baby. You two are my life. I’ve had this ring”—I pulled the princess cut diamond ring from my pocket—“since the day we went shoe shopping with Kyle. Before you knew you were pregnant. This had always been my plan. Having a baby doesn’t change how I feel about you. You are my heart, Lane, always have been. Will you marry me?”
Her eyes searched my face, and I prayed to God she found whatever answer she was looking for when she stared at me. After what felt like an eternity, she nodded and a huge smile spread across my face. “Yes. YES!” Her fingers tangled in my hair, and she crushed her lips into mine. “I love you.”
“Yeah?” I felt tears of exquisite joy slide down my face.
She cried and smiled at the same time. “Yes. I’ve always loved you.”
“I knew you did, even when you fought it.” She laughed, and I knew we were at the start of something really good.
I told her I loved her too before I wrapped my arms around her waist and kissed the sweet lips of my soon-to-be wife. This was it. This was what every up and down in my life had been bringing me to—this time and this moment with Lane.
“This is just the start to our forever,” I whispered.
ROCK MY BED (Black Falcon, #2)
Riff and Aubrey’s story
Releases March 2013
Demon at My Door
Releases March 2013
Gothic outcast Natalie Sugarman bartered her soul for her dying mother’s life sixteen years ago to a boy demon that could stop time. Now, days before her twenty-first birthday, the lifelines on her palms are slowly vanishing, and she knows it’s just a matter of time before Satan’s little helper collects.
Natalie's tried numerous times to kill the demon and regain control of her soul’s destiny, but she always falls short. When she decides to try and gain the element of surprise for her next attempt, Natalie seeks answers about his location from a freaky, glowing-eyed fortuneteller. Creeped out by the psychic’s methods, she bolts from the reading and misses the warning that the demon who stole her soul is always closer than she thinks.
After some strange incidents with her new boyfriend, including a hot, levitating sex session, she realizes he’s the grown-up version of her little nightmare and he’s returned to collect on their deal. Natalie must figure out how to win her soul back from the demon before her lifeline completely disappears and she becomes his forever—even if that means making a deal to damn three other souls to take her place.
*Demon At My Door is a New Adult Paranormal Romance with very mature scenes*
(Continue on to read Chapter One)
Chapter 1
Demon Entrance
Someone in this room is about to die. The hum, deep in my bones, is undeniable. Shockwaves roll through me whenever I’m near a person who is about to bite the big one. I feel it now and I hope like hell it’s not me. But it’s definitely going to happen right here in the Murfield Country Club. Soon.
I scoot back further in my seat and slouch down, trying to block out the incessant buzz in my skull. The vibration in my bones increases in intensity and my teeth rattle a little. My eyes scan the area for the cause. It’s happening. Right now.
My heart thunders as my eyes lock on a rather plump man with salt and pepper hair with a spray tan from hell. He kind of reminds me of an over-sized Oompa-Loompa dressed in tennis whites. The heavy man curses at the girl behind the reception desk to my immediate right and treats her like she’s not fit to lick the mud from his boots. Every fiber in my body is drawn to him and I know without a doubt he’s the one. My bones are like tuning forks for the damned and they are never wrong.
Sweat beads on his forehead and the vein in his neck distends while he growls at the girl. His protruding belly bumps against the marble counter in front of him with each labored breath he takes. It seems there was a mix up with his tennis reservations. He says he has one, but the petite blonde girl wearing a ‘required’ smile isn’t able to locate his name in the computer.
“Where is the manager? Do you even know who I am?” the fat man yells at the girl before he blots his forehead with a perfectly pressed handkerchief.
My heart bleeds for the receptionist. I hate it when people are rude, but when the ones who are about to die are jerks, it helps lessen the guilt I feel for them when the sadistic creature from hell comes.
The girl chews her bottom lip. Her pale skin shows a hint of red in her cheeks, no doubt caused by shear mortification. “I’m sorry, Mr. Wellington, but my manager is out sick. Let me—”
He holds up a chubby hand and his face turns the shade of a beet. “I don’t want your damn excuses. I want a court and I want it now!”
“I’m sorry,” she apologizes again. Her bottom lip trembles, like she’s about to cry, but he’s doesn’t care. He points his finger under her nose and continues to berate her during his little tantrum.
“I said—” He grabs at his chest in mid rant and grunts in pain. That’s when it happens. Time stands still. There’s no movement or sound in the crowded lobby. The silence in the room allows the faint sound of my breath to echo around the room. The receptionist is frozen in a look of fear, hair stuck in mid-swing, her eyes still glued in Mr. Wellington’s direction. Two little boys in front of the entry door across from me are stuck in a game of catch and a cleaning lady, wearing a blue uniform, in mid-sweep—all of them unaware that time has stopped and true evil is about to enter the room. None of them will have a clue they were even put on pause, like a DVD. The only people still able to move at all are Mr. Wellington and me.
My eyes search the immaculate room. He’s here somewhere—the little demon who stole my soul. Now, I just have to wait on him to make his grand appearance.
The fat man falls to his knees in front of me with a heavy thud and a combination wave of sweat and fear blows in my direction. His eyes widen as he gasps for air and clutches his chest. They always look at me, probably because I’m the only thing moving around them. They all have the same look in their eyes, too. Fear.
I should be used to this. But no matter how many times I see it, soul bargains still creep me out.
“Help me,” Mr. Wellington rasps.
My mouth pulls into a frown and I bite my bottom lip. I shake my head. There’s nothing I can do to help him, even though I want to. He’s going to die and the demon has already come to offer him a deal. There’s no stopping it now. I’ve tried before, countless times, but each time my attempt is overcome by the sheer strength and power of the demon boy.
It’s best not to give the dying false hope.
Mr. Wellington collapses on the floor, riddled in pain, and stretches his hand toward me. I press my back into the chair. The fancy buttons in the fabric press against my skin through my thin, black t-shirt. I bring my legs up to my chest to get out of his reach. I hate it when they ask me for help. It makes me feel like crap when I can’t.
A vortex of air blasts into the room and whips my black hair in my face. My eyes water as loose strands snap into them, so I close them tight and begin to hum. Thank God no one can see me other than Mr. Wellington. I know I look insane rocking back and forth like this, but I don’t care. A distraction of any kind is better than bearing witness to yet another death I’ll have to try and to stop.