Last Second Chance (38 page)

The show that Vanessa had shown up to had been particularly enlightening.

After bitching her way past security, Vanessa had accosted them backstage after a concert in LA. Stella had been hugely pregnant yet not intimidated in the least.

“Van,” Vanessa had whined. “I just want to talk. You can’t just cut me out like this. What about—”

It was then that Stella had moved between them and put her hand up. “If you even
think
of using his dead sister to make him feel guilty for kicking your crazy ass to the curb, so help me, I’ll make what you did to that girl in Omaha look like a
hug
.”

Van had watched the women facing off, ready to jump in should Stella or his unborn child appear to be in danger. But his cowgirl held her own.

“He has a family now. You’re not a part of it. Go find one of your own.” She’d stared Vanessa down until the woman shot him one last glare and slunk away.

“Enjoy your baby mama drama,” Vanessa had muttered.

“Oh I intend to,” he’d said to her retreating figure as he’d wrapped his arms around Stella.

“I don’t think we’ll be seeing her again,” she had assured him.

His tiny protector. A shield of armor that took no shit off anyone. Not even him. She accepted everything that came along with him, accepted him however he came.

Not that she didn’t make him work his ass clean off on that damn ranch when they got home to make up for all of it. But he wouldn’t change a single thing. They led two lives, two beautifully crazy lives, but they lived them together and that was all that mattered.

The road was an adventure. The ranch was an oasis.

Every magazine he appeared on the cover of declared him to be living the dream. And he was. But they were wrong about a few things. The dream wasn’t playing to thousands of fans, selling out arenas, or having an acoustic album that had gone double platinum. The dream was waking up with her—wherever they were. Having morning coffee with her. Hearing her contented sighs of pleasure every night before he drifted off to sleep. It was more than he deserved, but some higher power had seen fit to give him Heaven on Earth. He liked to think that Val was smiling down on him. On them. All three of them.

Valerie May Ransom was quite a handful on the road. A beautiful handful—like her mother. His song writing had improved greatly as she demanded he sing her to sleep every night. And she was an unforgiving audience who didn’t tolerate too many repeats.

They said you couldn’t get sober for someone else. Whoever the hell “they” was. They also said you had to want it for just you. He figured he’d done everything else his own fucked-up way. Might as well stay sober his own way as well. Because it was her he’d let go of the darkness for, her voice that had pulled him from the depthless pits of hell, from the clutches of demons. And it was her he thought of every time temptation reared its ugly head.

Her holding their daughter in that hospital room, her looking up at him with gratitude and love and wonder.

The thought of losing all of that, of losing the two most important women in his life, kept most of the cravings at bay. And when it didn’t, he saw his personal drug rehabilitation counselor immediately.

So maybe he was doing it wrong. But he’d been sober for over a year. So “they” could kiss his ass—right on the tattoo that said “Stella’s.”

They’d kept her rule about always being honest with each other, sometimes brutally so. Which had made getting ink done behind her back nearly impossible. Thankfully Sid knew a guy who traveled and had been willing to work on Van’s tattoo at the crack of dawn.

His skin was still sore from adding the coloring to the tattoo that covered his back. But it was worth it. He couldn’t wait to show her.

She was awake and playing with May when he returned to the bus.

“There’s Daddy,” Stella said, standing and lifting their daughter to greet him.

May chucked a rubber drumstick at him. He kissed her chubby hand. She smiled and his heart swelled in his chest.

What a miracle love was. It had a healing power he never would’ve believed in if he hadn’t experienced for himself.

“Where’d you run off to this morning, Mr. Ransom?”

He allowed himself a gentle kiss on his soon-to-be wife’s lips. Anything more and they’d have to get the nanny to take May for a few hours.

“I have something to show you. Both of you.”

His girls waited patiently as he lifted his shirt up, the same way Stella had once done for him.

The bus was silent except for Stella’s gasp when she saw it.

“It’s us. She’s looking down at us.”

He turned, wiping the tears from her eyes. Sid’s tattoo artist had added yellow sunshine streaming throughout his tattoo of Val. He’d also inked a small smile on her face as she looked down at the three new koi fish swimming together in the water beneath her.

“Watching over us. She must be. It’s the only way I could’ve gotten this lucky.”

“It’s beautiful, Van. I love it. I love you. God, I love you so much,” was all she was able to get out.

Recognizing that she was becoming less than stable, he took the twenty pounds of precious bundle that was their daughter into his arms.

“Breathe, cowgirl. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I just…” He placed a gentle kiss on May’s forehead. “You’ve given me so much. Hope. A family. Your heart. Light in the darkness.” His lips met hers gently. “I wanted to give you something in return.”

“I love it.” Stella stood on her tiptoes and kissed him once more. “I love it so much. But you already gave me something. Something I was empty without for so long.”

He nodded towards May. “Good point. She is pretty perfect. You’re welcome.”

Stella smiled at his playful smirk. “You gave me my soul, Van Ransom. And all the horses and ranches and platinum albums in the world don’t compare to that. Though the adorable daughter is probably a touch more valuable. But I like to think I had a
little
something to do with that.”

May gurgled some spit and giggled in his arms. “Yeah, you both drool all over me. She’s definitely got your DNA.”

“Wheels up, kids,” Devon, their bus driver, called out as he lumbered onto the bus. “Settle in. It’s going to be a long ride.”

Stella’s bright green eyes turned to him as she slipped her diamond ring bearing hand into his. “That’s what we’re hoping for.”

FALLING FOR FATE

(Second Chance #2)

Fate Buchanan just wants to escape the constraints of her old life. After checking her mother into rehab and catching her fiancé with her maid of honor the night before their wedding, she ran. Angry and hurt, she’s aching to do something
reckless.

Dean Maxwell is having one last summer of freedom before taking over his family’s business. When he sees a beautiful woman running down the beach alone after dark, he knows it’s not safe. So he does something
impulsive.

When their paths cross unexpectedly after a night of unbridled passion, neither of them can ignore the memory of the affair they shared. What began as one night is about to become
a whole lot more.

Coming Fall 2014

Read other books by Caisey Quinn

While writing is something that I do alone, revising, editing, and preparing to launch my books is very much a group effort. I am so very fortunate to have so many wonderful and amazingly talented people in my corner.

Regina Wamba made this cover exactly as sexy and gritty as I wanted the book to be, and she did so based on a jumbled mess of emails and Facebook messages. Because she is truly an artist with ability beyond what I can even comprehend.

My writing and critique partners gave me brutally honest and much needed feedback to make Van and Stella’s story the best it could be! I don’t know what I’d do without y’all. Seriously.

Thank you to Mickey Reed and Rahab Mugwanja for editing and proofreading my mess. I am blessed beyond what I deserve just to know each of you. Big huge hugs of gratitude to Amy, Chelcie, Erica, Stacy, Kelly, Marie, Kristy, and Amy for taking one last look and giving me honest and helpful feedback. Thank you so much, ladies! Each and every one of you means so very much to me! This book is better because of you!

I am typing this knowing I should’ve sent it to Emily Tippetts days ago for formatting. Thank you so much, Emily, and the formatters at E.M. Tippetts Book Designs for being patient with me as I struggle to hand my characters over to you.

I am so grateful to Jessica at InkSlinger for wrangling the beast of a blog tour, and for not telling me to get lost when I said I wanted anyone and everyone interested to be able to participate. For those of you who are bloggers, readers, and reviewers, THANK YOU SO MUCH for all that you do! Thank you for participating in the Meet Van blitz where we introduced my sweet, tortured soul to the world. And for participating in the blog tour, reading an ARC and writing a review even when you had a million other books to read and posts to put up. Y’all literally make my dreams come true.

I am so lucky to have found a husband who doesn’t get completely disgusted when I don’t shower for three days because I’m writing like mad and afraid of “washing the creative off me”. I can’t explain what I morph into when I am finishing a book but it isn’t pretty, nor does it smell good, or cook, or clean, or respond to attempts at communication and human contact. Thanks, J, for letting me be that creature when need be. I know it isn’t easy and I love you for stepping up to be both mom and dad while worrying incessantly about my sanity.

If you read my letter to you at the beginning of this book you know that I am mostly grateful for those folks in my life who have accepted my soul’s shadows and scars and still love me anyway. You are my miracles. I could never begin to thank you adequately for the love and acceptance and support.

To those of you who support me and the members of the indie author community, I appreciate you more than words can say.

Caisey Quinn lives in Birmingham, Alabama with her husband, daughter, and other assorted animals. She is the author of several New Adult and Contemporary romance novels featuring country girls finding love in unexpected places. You can find her online at
www.caiseyquinnwrites.com
and at
www.facebook.com/AuthorCaiseyQuinn
.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations for reviews. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet, without the publisher’s permission and is a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and/or imprisonment.