Taking Tiffany (22 page)

The monitor with Lucy’s baby gibberish interrupted what he’d started.

I giggled. “And she’s ours. I think it’s my turn.”

“Nope. I’ve got this.” He jumped out of bed. “Hey, are we still having the gang over tomorrow night?”

“Yes, we’ll have a full house. Braydon, Jain, Tiffany, and Riley. Colin and Charlie plan to bring the twins.” I watched as he winced. The last time they visited, mayhem ensued.

“They’re just going through the terrible twos. I’ve hidden the crayons, so they won’t be able to draw on the walls again.” Colin and Charlie married a year ago, which made me very happy. Shortly after, they adopted the twins, Francis and Sally, from Angela’s orphanage in Romania. She alerted them of the opportunity, and they ran with it. Both Colin and Charlie liked to joke and say they got two for the price of one.

“How many kids has Angela placed so far?” he asked.

“I think around twelve. At this rate, she’s going to run herself out of business.” I laughed.

He left the room shaking his head, muttering, “Who would have guessed?”

Todd changed Lucy’s diaper, brought her back to our room, and plopped her into my arms. She smelled fresh, like only a baby could. I rubbed my nose along her neck, drinking in her goodness. She smiled and cooed at me. 

“Coffee?” Todd asked.

“That sounds heavenly.”

He leaned down and kissed us both before he headed toward the kitchen on his new mission.

This was our life. A wonderful, messy, chaotic, and beautiful life. There was only one word to describe it.

Spectacular.

The End

I wasn’t sure if I was going to write a spin-off to Breaking Braydon. But, because of all the support and enthusiasm (and emails!) I decided to go ahead and give it a try.  I hope you’ve enjoyed it!  That is and always will be my goal.

If you like this book, there are lots of ways to show your support (and help an indie author) – recommend the book to a friend, write a review (which helps immensely!) share on Facebook and other social media.

I’ll throw it back to you—the readers. Should there be another spin-off? The title “Stealing Stephan” came to mind. Here is what I have so far (Really, I’m not kidding…this is all)

Chapter One

Stephan

God. I hated her.

       Blonde hair, perfectly shaped pouty lips, and a body to tempt a priest or a gay man—or anyone for that matter. She had it all – except for a soul, apparently.

       “Don’t you just want to hurl yourself off the nearest cliff?” she screamed at me.

       **Suggestions? Should I continue?

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What would an author do without their beta readers? Not much, I can assure you! They help in all sorts of wonderful ways – from “You need more” to “You need less”, “I love this!” or “This is bad!” lol. The following have helped in so many ways, I can’t count!

Graham Jones – He stuck with me through the entire book! (I joined a critique group, Scribophile, and he was nice enough to critique even though he doesn’t usually read romance.) Because of Graham, I don’t have any “Horrible clichés”. Lol – well, maybe one or two have slipped in. Seriously, because of his honest (some might say brutal – I say appreciated) suggestions, I know Taking Tiffany is a better book than when I started.

Nancy Saling Thompson: I remember when I read her first book, The Mistaken, I thought, “Wow. This author has serious talent!” When Nancy asked to read my first book, “Intentional” I told her “Over my dead body”. It almost came to that. Since then, we’ve both been on this journey together. When Nancy gives me a suggestion, I listen! (If you haven’t read her work – run and buy a copy - The Mistaken, Leverage and Stirred – you won’t be sorry!). Thank you for your encouragement and support – I couldn’t admire you more!

Amy Mcglone (Rebels and Readers Book Blog) Amy’s been with me since the beginning. She always makes herself available to help (And she has GREAT suggestions). I appreciate it more than words.

Donna Feyen (More Than a Review) I always blush when you send your feedback (So nice!). I want you to be my beta forever.

Maari Hammond – You have to be the best reader fan and supporter of Indie Authors I know. Your love and encouragement keeps me going (Even on those days I ask myself – “Why am I an author anyway?”) lol

Kendra (Lola Kay) Sikorski - I think I might write my books just for you. I love your enthusiasm!!  I always ask myself, “What would Lola like?”    

Mylissa Demeyere from Mylissa’s Reviews and Book Thoughts – I always tell myself “emotion – I must have more emotion” when I think of you. This book has an extra dash- just for you!

Dana Mason (Author of the Embrace Series - Dangerous Embrace, Precious Embrace and Broken Embrace. All great books!) You're a wonderful author and a terrific beta! You swooped in and helped me smooth out all the wrinkles. Thanks to you, things were clarified and the action scene at the end makes sense.

Melesia Tully, Jerri Burgess, Lydia Williams, Gina Marquita Fiserova
, Lousie Adrian,
Cyndi Maurer, Leanne Hawkes, Jan Hinds, Chloe Meyer, Samantha Madison, Danette Hansen, Jacqueline M. Sinclair, Luciana Erwin, Nicole Neisen

To my editors: Nancy Saling Thompson (Author and Editor) and Karen Harper (
Purple Orchid Editing
) Thank-you for your expertise! I couldn’t had don it without ya (lol – you get the picture)

Julie Hartnett – You may not give feedback on my books – but you’re in there! Your humor and warmth burrow into my soul and onto the pages – Thank you for the friendship and support!

Robin Harper (Wicked by Design) – for another absolutely beautiful cover!

Sister Laurel, Laurie or Elore (Depending on the mood) You are an inspiration to me!  You get knocked down – but, you get up even stronger than before. Last year was the worst – let’s make next year the very best!

Last, but certainly not least, my family. They continually have to watch me go into “the other world” where characters speak to me (Or yell in some cases). When my family talks to me during these times, I may shake my head and agree – but they
know
. I’ve told my fourteen-year-old daughter she can buy a new jet, fly to Europe and go on a million dollar shopping spree to prepare. 

Yeah. That.

Seriously, I want to thank hubby, Doran, and children – Doran, Jean, Becca, Julianne and Mattie for believing in me – allowing me the time to float through my make believe world and understand. Because of all of you – I have the best of both worlds

O
NE

Braydon

THE HIGH HEEL whizzed past my head at record speed.

Damn. That was quick. Usually, when I told women to leave, it would take a few minutes before their anger boiled over.  I leaned on the doorframe between the hotel bedroom and the large foyer.

“Listen, Candy, it’s been fun. But like I said, it’s time for you to go.”

She picked up her other shoe and hurled it at me. Missed again. There were many talents she shared last night, but, as it turned out, throwing shoes wasn’t among them.

“It’s Candace, you ass. Not Candy!” Her face reddened. “You think you can just brush me off? We…we only finished like five minutes ago.” Her flowing blonde hair and angry green eyes were a sight to behold, I’d give her that. She tightened the sheet around her, making sure to cover herself completely. It was time to wrap this up.

“Yes, that’s what I’m doing. You may consider this your official brush off.” Rip the Band-Aid off quickly. It was better for everyone.

Tears welled in her eyes.
Here comes the drama
. Women were experts at it. Good thing I knew what they were doing, along with their motivations. They wanted to be the one to snag the “Bad Boy Billionaire,” but I knew better.

The women I invited into my bed knew the score. If they hadn’t been clued in by my reputation alone, I made sure to let them know before stepping foot in my hotel room. But still, they deluded themselves. They thought they’d be the one to change me, that they’d be the one who I’d marry. They didn’t care about me. I knew that with certainty. I’d seen it replayed over and over. They were all the same.  I wasn’t a fool.

"You knew what this was, Candace." I emphasized her name properly. "Now, I'd appreciate it if you'd just leave." I nodded in the direction of the door.

 “Everything they say about you is true. You’re a damn bastard.” She continued to fist the sheet in her hands and stomped her foot.

“So you’re angry because I’m exactly what you thought I’d be?”

“Yes! I mean, no! I hoped you’d be different. I thought the stories about you were an exaggeration. Kind of like an urban legend or something.”

She stopped and studied me. I worked to keep my face expressionless and crossed my arms. She knew. My body language screamed ‘Don’t even try.’

She shook her head. “I was wrong. So wrong.”

I continued to watch her as she gathered her clothes from the floor and moved into the bathroom to change.  It was mindless sex, but it was so good. For a moment, I considered stopping her.

What the hell?
What was I thinking? What good would come from that? I hated this part of the evening. It always came, even if it was for only a split second. I’d never change, yet somehow it would find its way into my consciousness—the creeping edge of an emotion. It felt a little like regret, but I immediately shoved it down before I was able to explore it. I didn’t need or want those feelings.  I wanted everyone to believe I was unobtainable. Because I was. Women could have my body for a few hours. But they’d never touch the rest of me. Ever.