“Mom, you’re being dramatic.”
I’m surprised at how well Avery is handling this. The longer it goes on, the stronger she seems to get.
“Excuse me?”
“Seriously,” Avery says, stepping toward her mother. “You’re a grown woman. Stop acting like a baby. Dad died a year ago. I miss him like crazy and I have a hole in my heart but I’m still a person. I have to live my life. And I want to live that life with Julian, whether you like it or not.”
Sam gapes at her daughter and I’m so fucking proud of Avery right now I can barely stand it.
“Listen, I love you, Mom,” Avery says softly. “If you choose to lose me, that’s your decision. But I’m not going anywhere.”
Sam is silent for a long time, staring at her daughter like she’s never seen her before.
“Okay,” she says, suddenly deflating. “Okay, let’s go inside and talk about it.”
Samantha turns back to the house and slowly walks back in through the front door.
Avery turns to me. I stare at her in total surprise.
“Do you think…?” I ask, trailing off.
“Not by a long shot,” Avery says. “But it’s a start.”
I grin at her and walk over. I kiss her and pull her against me.
“I love you. I can’t wait to marry you.”
“I love you too. I can’t wait either.”
We kiss one last time and we walk into the house.
It won’t be easy. It won’t be simple. Convincing Avery’s mother to stop hating me will probably take years, if she ever does.
But it doesn’t matter.
This is the future we talked about. We both want something real, a real family, a real life. And getting married is the first step.
Avery is going to be my business partner, my life partner, my wife. And I’m going to be her husband and her Daddy. I’m going to protect her always. Take care of her always.
Maybe her mother won’t approve. But that won’t stop anything.
Nothing’s going to be easy for us, but I don’t care about that. I have my Avery, I have my love. I finally feel like a piece of my life is clicking into place, and I don’t need to feel restless anymore.
I can be at peace with my new wife.
I love her, and I’m finally home.17AveryOne Year LaterI look down at the ring on my finger and wonder, for the millionth time, how I got so lucky.
The light coming in through my office window is long and pretty this early in the morning. I love getting in before anyone else does, even before Julian gets out of bed.
“You’re nuts,” he grumbled to me as I slipped out from under the covers. “It’s still dark.”
“I’ll see you later, sleepy.” I kissed him, took a shower, and left.
There’s something peaceful about this. I guess I just like being in the one place where I know I belong, where I have a voice and some authority.
Avery Publishing is already killing it, all thanks to our superstar author, Haylee Price.
The first book in her new series came out a few months ago, and sales have already doubled what we expected, and we expected a lot. It’s a sensation, selling like crazy, and I’m working insane hours with Haylee trying to get the next book ready to go as soon as possible. She’s writing like a demon, barely sleeping, and I can hardly keep up with her pace.
I absolutely love it.
Julian keeps warning me to take it easy, but I think he’s jealous. He can’t keep up with this fast pace anymore. Well, he can, but he doesn’t want to.
“I’m too old for this shit,” he keeps grumbling, as if I’ve never seen Lethal Weapon before.
I sip some coffee and watch the office fill up. I should probably get some work done but I just don’t feel like it. I’m too busy enjoying this quiet, peaceful time.
Until the phone rings, of course.
“Hello?”
“Hello yourself.”
I smile to myself. “Are you calling from home or from your office?”
“Home,” he grunts. “Still haven’t left. How’s it going there?”
“Fine,” I say. “We don’t need you.”
“I know, don’t rub it in.”
I laugh lightly. “Come on. I want to see you. Get your ass out the door.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles. “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
I hang up, smiling. My receptionist pokes her head in through the door. “Haylee’s here,” she says.
“Really?” I ask, standing. “She’s early.”
“She looks like she hasn’t slept.”
I sigh. “Okay, thanks.”
I head out of my office, a stack of notes under one arm. Haylee is in the conference room like always, her stuff spread out in front of her, big bags under her eyes.
“Morning,” I say, sitting across from her.
“Did you get the pages?”
I nod and pull them from my file folder. Haylee emailed her new pages last night at three in the morning, which of course I didn’t see until I woke up.