Permanent Lines (32 page)

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Authors: Ashley Wilcox

BOOK: Permanent Lines
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“Oh my God, Merrick,” she reached across the bar to hug me, tears already filling
her eyes. “I’m so pissed you did it without me, but so frickin’ happy for you guys.”

“Thanks, friend,” I said, hugging her back.

“Who’d a thought, huh?” she asked once she was sitting back down.

I shook my head. “Definitely not me,” I told her honestly. “But damn does it feel
awesome.”

“It does, doesn’t it?”

I nodded my head. “It’s scary sometimes,” I admitted, “how much I love that girl.”

“Well, you guys have been through a lot.”

“Too much,” I told her.

“But you wouldn’t be where you are now if it didn’t happen,” she pointed out with
an eyebrow raised.

I looked around the bar, taking in the new walls, lighting, door, sign—everything
was different, even the name. McShane’s was no longer McShane’s. It was Permanent
Lines now. Amelia and I started over. Everything was new and everything was more than
perfect. We were living the dream. We had more love between us than any one person
needed and so much money that we could swim in it, compliments of the art studio’s
bank account, which happened to be the one that Antonio consistently deposited his
winnings into and in Amelia’s name. It was news to us, and the money was amazing,
but that wasn’t my high; it wasn’t my reason for living. It wasn’t the material things
that made a home. Success wasn’t provided or handed to you just by status or the amount
of money you had. It was the people you shared it with. It was the ones you held closest
to your heart. It was your friends, your wife, your family …

And it just so happened …

I had all three.

 

 

 

I had a surprise for Amelia today. It was something that I’d been working on since
the income started to come in again. There were a couple of times that I squashed
the idea since it was the same fucking thing that Antonio got her at one point. But
he took it away. I didn’t
ever
want to be grouped with anything that son of a bitch had ever done. If there was one
person who I hated the fucking most in my life, it would be him. But I wanted to do
this for her. She needed it. She needed her own space and I wanted to give it to her.

I stood outside Permanent Lines, waiting for her to get home. Since the bar was up
and running again, we still lived up top. Amelia had some appointment this morning
that she was up and out early for. I think it was one of those girl appointments;
I stay far from them. I love my girl’s lady parts, but I don’t like to think about
some doctor checking them out or doing whatever they do to them.
No thanks!

“What’re you doing out here?” she asked when she arrived.

“I’ve got something to show you.” I leaned over and kissed her cheek before grabbing
her hand.

I walked her to the place next door. It’d been vacant for a few years now and really
run down, but recently it had been undergoing some renovations.

“Babe, I don’t think we should be in here,” she said, moving closer into my side.

“Why not?”

“Because someone else owns this and it’s clearly not open for business yet.”

“No,” I shook my head slightly, “I do believe that I own the place.”

She looked up at me, confused, but with an intrigued grin. Her smile, eyes, and everything
looked just as wonderful as usual and I was bursting with excitement to share this
with her.

I smiled down to her, taking in her godforsaken beautiful eyes. “It’s yours, baby,”
I told her. “It’s
your
new studio.”

“Are you kidding?” she whispered, her eyes wide.

“Not in the slightest,” I replied. “You can do whatever you want with it—make it a
business, just use it as your painting space … whatever.”

“Oh my God!” she practically squealed, pressing her overly joyed lips on mine. “Thank
you! Thank you! Thank you!”

“And I promise it’ll never be a cover for anything.” I winked.

She smiled, tears already pooling in her eyes, staring at me for a second more before
pecking me again.

“Oh, and there’s something else pretty awesome about this space,” I added, grabbing
her hand again to bring her into the back and up the stairs.

“What? Are you kicking me out?” she asked with a sarcastic nervousness to her tone
at the sight of the less than stellar apartment in front of us.

“Not even close,” I told her, bringing her into my side before kissing the top of
her head. “We’re adding on.”

“So we’re knocking down the wall and making our place bigger?” she asked, her grin
mischievous.

“Yeeaaahhh, that was the plan. Is that not a good idea?”
Did she know something I didn’t?

“No, it’s a great idea!” She snickered. “We just may need the extra room now.”

Huh?
I looked at her in question, my heart pounding as I watched her lay her hand over
her stomach.

Holy fucking shit!

“Are you pregnant, baby?” I asked, my insides already going crazy. We hadn’t been
trying, but hadn’t really been preventing either. Amelia forgot her pills when we
were down south for Kayla and Miles’ wedding a while back, and decided against them
when we returned home. She said they made her gain weight. I had no fucking clue what
she was talking about, but we moved onto a different method in replacement, pull and
pray. Obviously it doesn’t really work all that well.

She nodded her head, giving me the sweetest damn grin. “Just had an ultrasound,” she
said, pulling a black and white glossy photo from her pocket and holding it up for
me to see.

I couldn’t see shit, but I knew what it was that I was supposed to be seeing. “We’re
having a baby?” I asked, still shocked. It wasn’t really registering, but I was getting
there.

She nodded her head again, this time giggling a little.

I bear hugged her into my chest, kissing her head over and over. “Holy shit!” I stepped
back an inch and held her face in my hands. “We’re having a fucking baby!”

I never thought reproducing another one of me was a good idea, but the way my body
was humming with so much damn emotion and happiness, I didn’t give a fuck. I’d just
cross my fingers for a girl. Though I’d kick the fucker’s ass that tried to even glance
at my princess, having another little Amelia would make this world an even better
place.

“So, I guess this means you won’t be racing this weekend?” I asked with a raised brow.
We had a big race scheduled, one that we were both registered to participate in. Amelia
was now my partner in crime on the track, making all the other racers pissed as fuck—we
took the first and second place trophies every fucking time. Yeah, you heard right.
Amelia was claiming just as many checkered flags as I was these days. I always played
it off that I was letting her join in on the victory circle fun, but shit, not one
time had I gone easy on her. The girl was fucking amazing on the track; it was a total
turn-on. I’d be willing to bet that’s how we got that little bun in the oven—on one
of Amelia’s first place nights.

She looked at me, disappointed. “Nope.” She tried to pout, but was unsuccessful, her
grin was peeking through the fake somber face. You could tell that she didn’t really
care. Yeah, she loved racing and was probably a bit bummed about being out for the
next nine months, but it was obvious that she was okay with the reason why she couldn’t,
too. “I’ll let you have your thunder back.”

That made her smile return.
The little brat!

I snickered, thoroughly amused. “Gee, thanks.” I shook my head and smiled before pulling
her back to me, our faces so close they were almost touching, a serious look replacing
my amused one. I did a once over her face, taking in her flawless beauty. It mystified
me every time I did it. She was way too fucking hot to be called mine, but it wasn’t
something I was about to argue. The ring was on her finger and my spawn in her belly—she
was mine now and forever. It was too late for anyone to try taking her away from me,
and I’d pity the fucker that tried. I would die for Amelia; I think that has already
been established. “I can’t wait to see this beauty grow.” I rubbed her stomach with
my free hand. “You have no clue how happy you’ve made me.”

Her arms draped around my shoulders as her sweet little grin covered her face.

“I think the feeling is mutual,” she whispered against my lips before pressing hers
against them.

It was moments like these that I couldn’t believe how much my life had changed in
just the last year. I went from having no one but my Jersey friends to having a best
friend, a family, a wife, and now a little one on the way. Anyone that knew me would
probably call bullshit on that one, but by God it was true, and I was loving every
damn second of it. I may not have had a stellar past, and I’ve made too many shitty
ass decisions, but where I’m going and what the future had painted for me … I was
good.

More than fucking good actually …

Perfect.

 

 

 

My readers, you guys, are my lifelines for continuing on. Not one book of mine would
be out there for everyone to read if it weren’t for you. You continue to give me the
push, drive, and willpower to keep going. So many times I wanted to give up- throw
in the towel, but it always happens, right on cue, that I get a message, notification,
or email, telling me how much you loved a particular book, and how you can’t wait
to read more. It melts my heart, and gives me that confidence to keep going- that
maybe I
am
supposed to be doing what I am doing. So … THANK YOU!! All of you. I owe so much
of where I am today, because of you. XOXO.

 

My A-team. Holy moly, did you help me tremendously with Permanent Lines! Your feedback,
and dedication to get Merrick and Amelia’s story where it is today means more to me
than you will ever know. Writing a book is, without a doubt, a group effort, and you
guys, The A-Team, are a group that I am VERY grateful to have. Thank you … to each
and everyone of you!!

If you would like to be a part of my A-team, search Ashley Wilcox’s A-team in your
Facebook search engine, and then click join- I will happily add you to the group.

My husband, Seth Wilcox. You were my rock with this book. I’m not a suspense writer-
I had never wrote a suspense book up until now. If it weren’t for my husband’s research,
and actually taking the time to read Permanent Lines for me (this was his first book
of mine that he had EVER read) to perfect the “big” scenes, this book wouldn’t read
like it does now. Every day I appreciate you in my life more and more. You make writing
romance novels easy- you give me inspiration daily. Love you, babe.

Last, but certainly not least, my editor, Erin Roth. I can literally say that she
saved my ass with this book. I was crapping my pants before
Permanent Lines
went to editing. I knew it was a good story line, I loved the characters, but I knew
it was in rough shape- if you could have only seen the mile long email that was attached
to the book when I turned it over to her. It needed help … major help, and she did
it. She transformed this book in such a way that I would have never dreamt of her
doing. Her talent, as an editor, is truly unbelievable. She made this book! Erin,
I know I have thanked you a zillion times already, but THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK
YOU!!!

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