“Marissa, I think you need some rest,” John said. “I will also be in touch with your father,” he warned her. “Kevin?” he called one of the security men. “Can you please escort Ms. Rivers from the building?”
Nodding, the security guard took hold of Marissa’s arm and led her away, shouting and cursing, revealing her true colors.
“You will pay for this, Connor Ellison. You’ll wish you were dead,” Marissa screamed, looking insane in the process. “You and your whore will pay for this.”
There were some things in life that could never be explained. Connor’s father was one of those things. Yet, through all the darkness, the trepidation, the many months of feeling unwell, his father had stepped up, shown that he could be dependable.
John sat back down and called over one of the waiters. “I think we need some coffee and a sweets menu.” Looking over at Molly, he smiled and shook his head. “Where did you learn to hit like that?”
Molly laughed. “I’ve no idea but she had it coming to her.”
At ease, relaxed and over the worst, Connor touched Molly’s face, much to the scorn of his mother. But Connor didn’t care. It was something she’d have to learn to live with because Molly wasn’t going anywhere.
“Now, dear,” John said to Molly, “what would you like?”
Connor’s smile spread across his face as he watched Molly engage with his father. She was funny, articulate, smart and beautiful. She was the perfect package.
“Have you set a date?” Eleanor asked.
“No, not yet,” Molly replied. “We wanted to involve you in the arrangements. Isn’t that right, Connor?”
Clearing his throat, Connor was surprised by Molly’s attempts at building bridges. “Yes.”
“You impressed me with the way you organized and ran the gala, and I suppose there is no better woman,” Molly said, smiling the entire time.
Eleanor’s face lit up. “Well, yes, I have organized many events in my time. Nothing would give me greater pleasure.”
Connor wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing, but with Molly taking the lead, and controlling things, he was pretty confident that both the women in his life would find a way to compromise.
“Now, how about you show me that ring of yours?” Eleanor beamed. “I hope no expense has been spared.” She gave Connor a look, and smiled once she saw the solitaire. “Only the best for an Ellison.”
That was it, those were the words that confirmed Molly’s acceptance into their empire. It was quite the U-turn, but it was something both Connor and Molly needed.
The remainder of the evening went by successfully, despite Marissa’s outburst. Molly fitted in well. Eleanor was on her best behavior, doing her best not to rock the boat, and John was more than happy to indulge in his son’s happiness.
Once they were outside, Eleanor and John bade their goodbyes.
“How about dinner on Sunday?” Eleanor asked as she lit a cigarette.
“That would be lovely,” Molly replied, smiling as Connor slipped his arm around her waist.
“We’ll see you both then,” John replied. “Take the rest of the week off. We can discuss things on Sunday.”
“Cheers, Dad,” Connor replied, and the two men shook hands.
“It was a pleasure, Molly,” John said as he kissed her cheek. “See you over the weekend.
Connor and Molly watched as his parents were driven away.
“That was…interesting.” Molly laughed.
“You are a feisty little thing, aren’t you?” Connor said as he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her lightly as the car pulled up.
“You could say that.” Molly giggled as she got into the car.
As they drove away, Molly touched his hand. The stranger who had saved his life. The woman who had opened up his heart and mind to the possibilities. The beautiful girl who’d healed his wounds, helped him discover his true self. Their love was a testament that anything was possible, and together they could overcome the many tribulations that came with life. They were united.
“I think we’re going to be happy,” she said.
“I agree,” he replied as he took her hand, kissing the back of it. “Let’s go home.”
Connor held on to her hand as they drove away from the country club, away from San Francisco, and to the one place they both felt at peace. Their little haven away from everything, their little piece of heaven.
Epilogue
They stood on the bridge of the boat. Connor steered straight ahead. The warm breeze caressed his skin as though it were leaving soft kisses against his face. The heat from the sun, the glimmer of the stretch of sea—everything that made it their little piece of heaven.
Their love was the irresistible kind. It was a union of endless promises, where a tender look became a daily habit. A kiss on the lips became a ritual. The touch of their flesh uniting their souls for many lifetimes over. Their love made their spirits crawl out from the darkness of their pasts, replacing all the hurt and pain with something that completed them.
Molly came up from below deck, carrying a plate of sandwiches. Molly stood next to Connor and grinned as she rested her head against his arm.
“Let’s stay out here forever,” she said.
Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, Connor kissed the side of her head. “I would love nothing more than that.”
Molly giggled, glancing up at him.
“Then how about we extend this trip by a few days?”
“I think that could be arranged.”
They stood together, saying nothing. Just embracing the beauty of being free and enjoying the gift that life had given them.
Molly let out a little gasp then took Connor’s hand, resting it on her swollen abdomen. The little flutter of movement swarmed through her womb, little bubbles popping.
“Someone is happy,” Molly said as she held Connor’s hand against her.
“Who’d blame him?”
“Her!” Molly giggled.
“It’s a boy, I can feel it in my bones,” Connor said, grinning as if he’d won the jackpot.
“Excuse me, but you have no more say in the sex of the baby than I do. So pipe down.” Molly laughed, trying to be serious.
Kissing her, Connor ran his hand up, tracing the outline of her breasts, giving them a playful squeeze. “I still say boy.” Connor chuckled and held on to Molly as he steered the boat, the horizon of the hazy blue water welcoming them.
Who would have thought a bad day, a hasty decision, a chance encounter would result in two people coming together, creating a little life of their own.
Happiness comes in many forms, and for Connor and Molly Ellison, it was a life where their joy became a deep-rooted realization that everything would be okay. It was the kind of freedom where they would go through life without the weight of the burdens that once controlled their every waking moment.
They were free.
They were happy.
They were one.
They were complete.
Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:
A Creative Guide to Getting a Life
MJ Eason
Excerpt
Chapter One
There are the Things you Think You Want…
Success
When it comes to men, Aunt Mable always said there are good ones, bad ones and the worst possible kind—the kind that steal your heart and leave you wondering what happened. The kind you can’t change.
Through the years I’d certainly seen my fair share of the worst possible kind. In fact, I often wondered if there wasn’t some sort of hidden sign written across my forehead announcing, ‘Come on in! Open for business! Give it your best shot!’
I guess I’d never fully appreciated the wisdom of my aunt’s advice until I met David Martinez, the man who broke my heart and destroyed most of my self-esteem. It had taken a year of intense therapy just for me to regain some of my confidence. Forget men. I wasn’t anywhere close to being ready for men again.
Or so I thought until I looked into the prettiest blue eyes in Texas.
It happened the night I was catering my first major event for a woman who’d fired some of the biggest names in the business. This was my chance to prove myself.
I believed I could handle anything that came my way as I stood hopeful before the world dressed in my perfect little caterer’s outfit—starched white shirt, black skirt and sensible shoes. I was ready for any challenge.
After all, I’d certainly spent enough years preparing for this moment. I’d attended all the best culinary schools in Paris, New York and Texas, put in endless hours, worked multiple jobs in preparation for the time when my small pride and joy, my baby, Carrie’s Creative Catering, would finally become a success.
For someone on the brink of thirty-five, single and living in Austin—one of the most exciting cities in Texas—success was all around me. So far, it had remained just out of my reach—until tonight.
“Carrie?” The sound of my name coming from the most gorgeous lips around made me weak in the knees. His voice sounded like pure romance. The Cary Grant kind of romance.
Unfortunately, the voice addressing me now came attached to one of those worst possible kinds.
Turn around. Walk away. Before it’s too late,
my mind virtually screamed, while my heart seemed to have a will of its own. It kept me standing there, foolishly smiling back at what was undeniably the sexiest man alive.
“Are you okay?”
“How did you know my name?” Too late, I remembered the nametag pinned to my crisp white shirt. It announced to the world that my name was Carrie Sinclair in bold, black lettering. Everyone at this party knew my name by now, especially since Martina Hilbert, the woman hosting this little get-together for a few hundred of her closest friends, had informed me that I lacked any real talent whatsoever as far as crab puffs were concerned. My skills in every other area were still questionable.
Once Martina had finished my thorough dressing-down in front of most of her guests, not to mention all three of my staff members, she’d proceeded to politely smile and simply walk away, as if she were merely commenting on the weather, not condemning
my
best hors d’oeuvres as garbage. I’d wanted to disappear right there into her spotless Italian marble floor.
This party was supposed to be my big moment. A client like Martina held parties like this all the time, according my best friend, Stephanie Monroe-Jennings. I’m embarrassed to say Steph got me this gig in the first place.
In her opinion, if I got in good with Martina and all of her well-to-do friends, it could really put Carrie’s Creative Catering on the map.
I was now utterly humiliated. If I didn’t escape to some quiet place soon, then everyone here would witness my childish reaction to Martina’s insult. That’s when I all but ran into Tyler Bennedict’s arms.
The second he’d smiled at me with a little lopsided grin, the first warning whistle along the path to my destruction blew. It would be the first of many to come from that fast moving train headed my way, warning me of the disaster waiting ahead if I was foolish enough to listen to my heart.
I was.
“Don’t listen to her. Martina doesn’t know what she’s talking about most of the time. These just happen to be the best crab puffs I ever tasted. And, if I’d known
the
Carrie of Carrie’s Creative Catering was
this
talented, not to mention beautiful, I would have booked your services long ago.”
Damn, he was good! Charming, sweet and unbelievably handsome. All the things that made me push aside my first uneasy feelings about him and ignore those whistles going off inside my head.
What did it hurt to simply talk to the man? He was a guest. I couldn’t go around pissing off the guests, now could I? And besides, he was gorgeous.
I took a moment to assess his…attributes, from the dark brown hair streaked with highlights no salon could perfect—those babies came from spending lots of time outdoors—past laughing blue eyes, down to the perfect male nose. The only hint of imperfection I could find in him was a tiny little bump at the bridge of his nose. After a second glance, I decided it gave him character. The icing on the cake came when he smiled at me again, revealing two charmingly boyish dimples.
I returned his smile, Martina’s nasty little comments all but forgotten. This was one great looking guy. Where exactly had he come from anyway, and why hadn’t I spotted him earlier?
Suddenly it seemed as if it were just the two of us in this crowded room, like some old romance movie. He looked at me as if I were the only woman in the world. Later I would come to understand the reason behind this look.
“Carrie, do you want me to serve the desserts now?” Allison Richmond, my right hand woman, had apparently been asking this same question for quite some time, if the annoyance in her voice was any indication. The world around me came back into sharp focus the second I got a good look at Allie’s smirk. Belinda and Janet, the two high school girls who worked part time for me, were practically drooling over Tyler.
I forced myself to remember why I was at this party in the first place. I wasn’t one of the rich guests. I was the hired help. Somehow, I untangled my eyes from Handsome Guy and faced the woman who had been with me almost as long as Carrie’s Creative Catering had been in existence.
“Huh? Oh, y-yes, Allie, that’s a good idea and I-I’ll help you.” I turned back for one more look—what did it hurt?—just to make sure the gorgeous man I’d just encountered was actually real and not part of some twisted fantasy cooked up by my deprived body simply because I was currently in the middle of what must be a world-class sexual dry spell. I blushed as I imagined breaking that dry spell with him and stammered to cover up my overactive imagination. “I-I should go. I, uh, d-do have work to do.”
Then he smiled again and I forgot everything I’d been about to say—forgot Allie, the dessert and Martina entirely. This was one dangerous man. He could make me forget just about everything, including the fact that my relationship with David had begun just this innocently.