“You have to have skill to be an artist and since I can barely draw stick figures, I decided that being an admirer of the arts was good enough.”
“And now you are a patron of the arts.”
She’d traced the veins on the back of my hand before answering. “I find that incredible,” she’d admitted.
“You are in charge of the art acquisitions for our homes, now,” I reminded her. The return look of love and amazement and wonder made me want to impregnate her all over again.
We’ve moved into our new townhome. Tiny insisted we keep the warehouse but we’re renting it out for the time being. Together we found a five floor townhome on the Upper West Side close to Jake’s office. Tiny bikes to work most days. I’ve hired two replacements for Louis, deciding that the work/life balance I am espousing couldn’t be easily achieved under the work load that Louis had toiled under alone.
After marrying Tiny, after learning of our impending parenthood, I reached out to Louis thinking to forgive and forget. In the intervening months my fortune had righted itself. Gains overcame losses, and filled with misguided benevolence I thought I would lend a helping hand to Louis. I’d heard that he was selling refinancing mortgage packages in Jersey.
But whether it was shame or anger or a mixture of both, Louis refused to meet with me and I let it go.
Today it’s Saturday and Tiny and I are going to take a trip to the Central Park Zoo and have lunch at the Boathouse. It was the first date we’d shared. Tiny argues it wasn’t a date but that I’d horned in on an outing with her mother.
Semantics.
We ate lunch together and I took them home. That’s a date.
“We should have dinner with Steve and his girlfriend,” Tiny says as we down Central Park West.
“Steve broke up with his girlfriend so that would be challenging and awkward.”
“What? When did this happen? I feel out of the loop with Marcie. She doesn’t gossip at all.”
“And Steve did?” I ask incredulously.
“No, but I was getting to learn his Sphinx like ways. Marcie is impenetrable. She could give lessons to those British soldiers in front of the palace. What happened?” she asks. “And don’t leave any details out.”
“He said it wasn’t working out. That’s the complete story as told to me by Steve.” I grin at her wrinkled nose. “Maybe you can kidnap him, tie him to a chair and torture the details out of him. Actually, no, you shouldn’t do that. Tying him up sounds vaguely sexual.”
Tiny rolls her eyes. “Are you always going to assume that every man wants me even when I’m eighty, wrinkly, and my boobs are near my knees?”
“Yes and every man that doesn’t is simply not right in his head. I won’t be able to get enough of your geriatric ass.”
She laughs and my heart squeezes at the sound of her joy. Hugging her closer, I press a kiss at her temple. We don’t make it another two feet before she yelps in amazement.
“Look at that!” she says excitedly.
At the corner of Central Park West and 72nd Street, a young woman is folding her bicycle into a compact arrangement of steel and rubber. Tiny hurries across the street, barely noticing traffic.
By the time I catch up, Tiny is already bent over inspecting the bike.
“I can’t believe how small it folds. And it’s comfortable you say?”
“I’m not going to bike any triathlons but it gets me places the subway can’t,” the girl responds. She flicks her gaze upward to acknowledge my arrival and then doesn’t look away. Her long perusal of my t-shirt and jean clad body is almost discomfiting. Tiny’s attention is, of course, still on the bike.
“Look at this Ian? Isn’t it cool and see how lightweight it is? It’s gorgeous.” She lifts her shining face toward me.
“I see something gorgeous,” I murmur softly. Tiny blushes under my gaze. Lifting the bike from her, I heft in my hand dutifully. “It’s very light.”
“I guess I don’t really need something like this,” she admits and hands the bike back to the girl.
“I’ll trade you the bike for your guy,” the girl says.
Tiny laughs in surprise and the slides her arm around my waist. “No, sorry. There’s only one Ian Kerr and I’m not giving him up.”
“Not for all the bikes in the world?” I joke.
“Not even for all the bikes in the galaxy,” she says and raises her beautiful face to me.
That’s a proper declaration.
Leaning forward, I kiss her to give her my own declaration of love. When I draw away, we’re the only ones on the street corner. The bike and the girl have left. And it’s just Tiny, me, and the sunshine. And the little one growing in Tiny’s belly. My life could not be more perfect.
T
HE
E
ND
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Undressed
, a novella
Contemporary Romance
with
Jessica Clare
Hitman Series
LAST HIT
NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING
AUTHOR JESSICA CLARE
USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR JEN FREDERICK
When a dangerous killer falls for a sheltered innocent, he’ll cross every line just to have her...
NIKOLAI
I have been a contract killer since I was a boy. For years I savored the fear caused by my name, the trembling at the sight of my tattoos. The stars on my knees, the marks on my fingers, the dagger in my neck, all bespoke of danger. If you saw my eyes, it was the last vision you'd have. I have ever been the hunter, never the prey. With her, I am the mark and I am ready to lie down and let her capture me. Opening my small scarred heart to her brings out my enemies. I will carry out one last hit, but if they hurt her, I will bring the world down around their ears.
DAISY
I've been sheltered from the outside world all my life. Homeschooled and farm-raised, I'm so naive that my best friend calls me Pollyanna. I like to believe the best in people. Nikolai is part of this new life, and he's terrifying to me. Not because his eyes are cold or my friend warns me away from him, but because he's the only man that has ever seen the real me beneath the awkwardness. With him, my heart is at risk..and also, my life.
LAST BREATH
Imprisoned in a Rio brothel, Regan’s only hope is the assassin who saved her...
REGAN
I never really knew what misery was until the day I was kidnapped and sold for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Two months later, I’m at a brothel in Rio when I meet Daniel Hays. He says he’s here to save me, but can I trust him? All I know of him are his sarcastic retorts and his tendency to solve every dispute with his gun. He’s also the only safe thing in my world, and I know it’s wrong to fall in love with him, but I can’t seem to help myself. He says he’ll protect me until his last breath but I don’t know if I should believe him or even if I can.
DANIEL
For the last eighteen months, I’ve had one goal that has dictated every action I’ve taken. I’ve left the Army, turned paid hit man, and have befriended criminals all across the globe to find my kidnapped sister. In every brothel I raid or every human trafficking truck I stop, I hope the next face I find is my sister’s. In a hidden brothel in Rio, I find Regan Porter, bruised by not broken and still sane despite her weeks in captivity. I should leave her behind or send her home because the last thing either of us needs right now is to get involved. But with every passing minute, I find I can’t let her go.
Loved
Losing Control
? Don’t miss
USA Today
bestselling author Jen Frederick’s fabulous New Adult series...
UNDECLARED
For four years, Grace Sullivan wrote to a Marine she never met, and fell in love. But when his deployment ended, so did the letters. Ever since that day, Grace has been coasting, academically and emotionally. The one thing she’s decided? No way is Noah Jackson — or any man — ever going to break her heart again.
Noah has always known exactly what he wants out of life. Success. Stability. Control. That’s why he joined the Marines and that’s why he’s fighting his way -- literally -- through college. Now that he’s got the rest of his life on track, he has one last conquest: Grace Sullivan. But since he was the one who stopped writing, he knows that winning her back will be his biggest battle yet.
Available in Print and Ebook
UNSPOKEN
Whore. Slut. Typhoid Mary.
I’ve been called all these at Central College. One drunken night, one act of irresponsible behavior, and my reputation was ruined. Guys labeled me as easy and girls shied away. To cope, I stayed away from Central social life and away from Central men, so why is it that my new biology lab partner is so irresistible to me? A former Marine involved in illegal fighting with a quick trigger temper and an easy smile for all the women. He’s sliding his way into my heart and I’m afraid that he’s going to be the one to break me.
Available in Print and Ebook
UNRAVELED
Twenty-five-year-old Sgt. Gray Phillips is at a crossroads in his life: stay in the Marine Corps or get out and learn to be a civilian? He’s got forty-five days of leave to make up his mind but the people in his life aren’t making the decision any easier. His dad wants him to get out; his grandfather wants him to stay in. And his growing feelings for Sam Anderson are wreaking havoc with his heart…and his mind. He believes relationships get ruined when a Marine goes on deployment. So now he’s got an even harder decision to make: take a chance on Sam or leave love behind and give his all to the Marines.
Available in Print and Ebook
About the Author
Jen Frederick lives with her husband, child, and one rambunctious dog. She’s been reading stories all her life but never imagined writing one of her own. Jen loves to hear from readers, so drop her a line at [email protected], or visit her website at www.jenfrederick.com.
Facebook: AuthorJenFrederick Twitter: @JenSFred
Acknowledgements
Thank you to all the bloggers for their support and promotion of these books. Being a blogger is a true labor of love and I salute you.
The creation of a book does not happen in isolation. It comes about because of endless patience of the author’s family and friends.
I would never be able to finish a project without my husband who never hesitates to help me with anything—big or small. My daughter’s sweet hugs and words of encouragement are indispensible to a healthy mind.
If the inboxes of my friends such as Meljean Brook, Jessica Clare, and Katy Evans would ever be closed to me, I’d have to pack up this writing gig. Knowing that I’m not alone in this writing world is immeasurably encouraging.
The day after Father’s Day I got a call from my brother that my dad had passed. He suffered from mantle cell leukemia, a rare disease that is often late diagnosed because the generality of symptoms that accompany the illness. I recall standing by my living room window thinking that it couldn’t be true because I’d just seen him yesterday. I had bought a cashmere blanket for him to use during treatment because it got cold during his long days of dialysis and chemo drips. But it was true. He was gone. The next time I saw my father was in a casket. I lived some distance away and I told my family not to wait for me to pull him off life support.
I don’t always remember that he’s gone. Sometimes I still think of him up north, tending his huge garden, going to the shooting range, and fishing in his favorite stream.
I guess he still is doing all of those things, just not on this realm.