My So-Called Sex Life (How to Date, #1)(82)

Anticipation thrummed through me. “This won’t be the last time I kiss you, Amy,” I said. Then I captured her lips with mine, and I kissed the stranger who’d caught my eye on the platform.

The stranger who’d driven me to change my plans.

The stranger who was no longer one at all.

I kissed her for a good, long time. Until it was no longer a kiss. It was hands on buttons, then fingers on zippers, then her and me crashing onto the bed.

She climbed onto my lap, wound her hands in my hair, then shuddered. “It’s been…a while.”

Those words were a gift, like she was. And I wanted to treat her with care and also make her feel incredible.

“I’ll take care of you,” I said. “I’ll give you anything you need.”

I took my time, kissed her everywhere, adored her.

Made her moan, sigh, and cry out my name.

And in the morning, I canceled the rest of my plans so I could finish the trip with her. When I told her, she said, “I was hoping you’d want to.”

“I very much want to travel with you,” I said.

In Paris, I took her out when she had a break from her tour group, and over a glass of wine at a sidewalk café by the Seine, she said she’d miss me when she returned to Los Angeles.

Right then, right there, I knew I had to make another change in my life. I wanted more than travel.

After I walked her back to the hotel, I told her I needed a moment alone. I left her and walked solo around the city, pondering.

Could I do this? Could I make this change for her?

I’d lived in London for the last few years. But one night by the river in the City of Light, with the glow of the street lamps and my unrelenting thoughts of Amy my only companions, and I had my answer.

The next night in Copenhagen, I told her I’d move to the U.S. to be with her, splitting my time between Los Angeles and New York, where I managed my U.S. operations.

“If you’ll have me,” I said, feeling wildly vulnerable as I asked her the question of my heart over dinner.

She reached across the table, took my hand. “I think I’ll have you, Jay. I think I’ll have you very much.”

I laughed at the way she teased me. “Oh honey, I’ll be having you.”

She wiggled a brow. “Tonight?”

“Every night we’re together,” I said.

Then I reached for her face, cupped her cheek, and kissed that gorgeous, flirty mouth. When I broke the kiss, I said, “Have I mentioned how glad I am that you led this group of writers and readers on this train trip?”

“Have I mentioned how glad I am that it rained in London?”

“You have, but you can say it again.”

“I love when it rains in London.”

Now, six months later, she’s my fiancée, and tonight she’ll be more. I adjust my black tie, smooth a hand over the lapels of my jacket, then look at the woman behind me in the bedroom of our home in Manhattan.

Ours.

She spends time with me here when she doesn’t have the kids, and sometimes when she has them too. Mostly, I go to Los Angeles to be with her and to work from there.

She’s worth it.

All these changes are worth it.

I’m not lonely anymore.

“You look very marry-able, Mr. Bettencourt.”

I smile. “So do you, Ms. Chandler.”

Hazel

This place is gorgeous. The view is stunning. I feel like I can see all of Manhattan. But I don’t gawk at the city for long.

Because Pachelbel’s Canon is playing, and Amy Chandler is walking toward Jay Bettencourt.

This is not just an engagement party. It’s a surprise wedding.

And after they say I do, and he kisses the bride, he offers a toast that ends with an ode to us. “And I suppose I have Axel and Hazel to thank. If you hadn’t written those books, I might not ever have met the love of my life.”

Then he turns all his attention to his bride, and I turn mine to the guy by my side. “I guess we really do need to write that billionaire train romance,” I say to Axel.

“I’m in.” Then he kisses me and says, “With you, I’m always in.”





FINAL EPILOGUE





ALL ABOARD


Hazel

A year later…

Lacey’s story is releasing in one week, so Axel and I are slipping away for a vacation before we go on a tour around the United States together to promote the book.

His Brooks Dean romantic thriller released a few months ago to rave reviews. I’m so proud of him, and I read some of the best ones to him. Then his agent sent him a bottle of scotch. My vineyard owner story came out too, and I can’t complain about how it did, especially since Axel’s friend Bridger’s production company bought the TV rights to it.

It’s been a busy year and a damn good one. A whirlwind of creativity and sex and love and friendships. But I’m eager for some downtime with my guy, just him and me, taking a train trip. JHB expanded its operations, with a luxury train route that runs along the Italian coast and stops in several seaside towns. Bring on the pasta, the sunshine, the wine, and the long, lazy mornings in bed with my favorite person.

But first, we fly into Rome, where I’m a little jet lagged. It’s nothing a day traipsing around the city won’t cure.