Atone (Recovered Innocence #2)(74)

“I love you, Mr. Hollis,” she whispers across my lips. She doesn’t say the words often, but when she does I know she really means them.

“I love you too, Mrs. Hollis.”

Her grin starts slow, taking over her whole face. She tightens her legs around my waist. I push into her and have to rest my head on her shoulder, breathing deep, while I try to gain some kind of control. Her * squeezes me in rhythmic pulses and I groan. She’s doing that on purpose, trying to tear at my restraint. Before I have the thought I’m pounding into her. She fists her hand in my hair, holding on for the ride. I can’t stop. She presses her face into my chest and cries out. I thrust into her a few more times, driving into her like a man possessed. I grip her hip and come hard.

My legs are weak and I struggle to hold us up. Damn. I hope I wasn’t too rough. I raise my head from her neck to find her smiling smugly. I can’t think of a single reason to move. When I’m inside her like this and she’s looking at me like that there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

“I really, really love you,” she says.

“You’re not supposed to say it during or right after sex. Doesn’t count.”

“Of course it does.”

“You’re killing me in that dress.”

“I could tell. So could the entire front row, part of the second, and probably some of the third.”

I chuckle and kiss my ring on her finger. It took me forever to find just the right one. It’s perfect. I haven’t been able to keep all my promises to her, so it was important to me to keep this one.

Someone pounds on the door, startling us.

“Stop banging your wife,” Cora shouts, “and get out here. The photographer’s looking for you two.”

Vera hides her face in my chest in embarrassment.

“Fuck off,” I shout back. “We’ll be out when we’re out.”

“We should go out there,” Vera whispers.

I sigh and pull out of her, helping her to stand. Damn Cora.

Vera laughs at my grumpy face. “I hope you can find your smile for the family photos. I don’t want that sour look immortalized forever.” She pats my cheek. “We can spend our honeymoon naked in bed. But right now people are waiting.”

I make grumbling noises more for effect than how I really feel. Family isn’t something either of us has had too much luck at, but it looks like that might be changing. My dad’s been sober almost three months now. My mom hasn’t been too rude to Vera. She’s actually been kind of nice. Vera’s dad and brother flew out from Kansas to San Diego for our wedding. They’ve been communicating by email and Skype for a couple months. The day before yesterday was the first time they got to see each other in person.

Meeting them has changed something in Vera, something vital and intangible. There’s a shine in her eyes that wasn’t there before. It looks a lot like hope. I like seeing it. I didn’t think it was possible, but she’s even more beautiful to me than ever before.

She slips into the adjoining bathroom while I put myself back together. It’s stupid, she’s just on the other side of the door, but I miss her. I shake my head at myself and hook a finger in the curtain to look out into the backyard. The Nashes volunteered their backyard for our wedding and reception. There’s a small crowd, but they’re all the people who matter to us. After our honeymoon, we’ll go back to Colorado, where we live now, so we won’t get a chance to see them very often. Neither Vera nor I had the stomach to stay in San Diego. Too many memories. Too many people to chance a run-in with. Colorado is a clean slate, a place to start over, where no one knows us and the only memories are the ones we’ll make.

It’s where Marie is buried.

Vera comes out of the bathroom and I grasp her hand. “Let’s go take those family photos.”

Her smile holds a hint of wonder. She’s not used to that word yet. We’ll work on that. We’re family now and nothing will ever separate us.





For my editor, Sue Grimshaw, who said, “Make book two Beau’s book.” So I did.

And, as always, for my husband, Mr. Y, for buying into and supporting every single one of my crazy Lucy-and-Ethel schemes…including the one where I thought I could write a book.





Acknowledgments


So many people to thank—where do I start?

A huge, ginormous, gargantuan thank-you to my editor, Sue Grimshaw. She told me to make book two Beau’s book and then bought it, sight unseen. It wasn’t even a book in my head! I don’t know where this book came from, but writing it was one of the most incredible experiences of my author life. I’m so grateful for Sue’s faith in me as an author to deliver this book. It was both humbling and scary as hell.

I’m incredibly lucky to be supported by my family and friends. You’re the reason I get to write the stories of my heart. We’re a little bit closer to that pool, boys.

To the authors of The Keeper Shelf, the mighty, mighty, unicorns—I’m so blessed to know you and call you friends. You keep me sane in an insane world. You’re my New York.

Stories live in the imaginations of readers. Without readers, there would be no books. Thank you for taking a chance on mine. I hope I was able to meet or even exceed your expectations.