Vanished: A Bad Boy Second Chance Romance (18 page)

              “I never want to be away from you again, Mia.”

              I burst into tears and hug him. I hold him for what seems like an eternity before finally pulling back slightly and pressing my head against his. I breathe him in deeply, smelling the scent of
my
man. I look down at the ring on my finger. Now everyone will know I’m his girl.

              “Joey,” I stammer. “You never are going to leave me again, are you? I just don’t think I could take being away from you again like that. I—I’d—“

              His hand covers mine and squeezes firmly.

              “No, Mia. I’ll never leave you.”

              I kiss him deeply, and I feel my arousal for him again. Is it possible to be this turned on by one man for the rest of my life?

              As soon as I ask myself the question and feel his hands on my waist, I know the answer.

              Yes. Yes, it is.

              “Joey,” I say softly into his ear, breathing him in deeply. “I’m your fiancé now. Don’t you think we should…celebrate?”

              I hear his gentle laugh in my ear as his hands strip my shirt easily off my head. Before I know it he has me on my back on the couch and is kissing me all over. Hungrily, but gently. He knows just how to apply the right kind of touch to drive me wild.

              His pants slide off easily, and I feel he’s already hard for me. I twist my ring on my finger, and use the other hand to guide him into me. The sensation floods through me as he enters, and I gasp, clutching his shoulders and neck with my arms.

              “You feel so good,” he says as he starts to thrust.

              This is the man I will make love to for the rest of my life.

              The thought of this turns me on more than anything physical he could ever do, and I give myself over to him, letting him take complete control of me. I feel his groans through his chest against my breasts, and his heartbeat through my skin. It’s like we’re one together.

              He pulls his face from my neck and stares intently into my eyes, brushing a loose strand of hair from my face. I feel the sensation rising within me as he slides in and out. My legs wrap around him, and we cum together, the perfect extra topping to the most amazing engagement.

              Nothing insane. No crazy frills. Just Joey and me, my Paris ring, and sharing our love together.

              “I just can’t believe it,” my mom says as we have coffee at the kitchen table. “I mean, I
really
can’t believe it.”

              She looks stunned and is still processing the long, detailed recounting of the events of the last few days.

              “I mean, I don’t know whether I’m more upset that you were shot at or more surprised about Joey showing up after all this time.”

              “I know. Me either,” I joke, taking a sip of my coffee and almost burning the tip of my tongue.

              “I can’t believe that ring!” she says, grabbing my hand for about the fifth time since I came over. “And from
Paris
! How fancy!”

              “Stop it, Mom,” I say, pretending to be embarrassed.

              “Is that where you’re going to have the wedding?” she says loudly, loud enough so that Joey can hear her from where he’s waiting in the living room. I see him poke his head into view through the doorway and smile.

              “If she likes,” he says, making my mom happy.

              “Now don’t go vanishing again on us, you hear?”

              “I won’t,” Joey replies. “I’m not going anywhere without her.”

              My mom turns back to me and smiles at me as she takes another sip from her coffee. “This is quite the story, Mia. I think I’m going to need a couple of days for it to sink in.”

              “I think I might too,” I joke.

              I set my cup down and lean across the table and give my mom a hug.

              “We should get going,” I tell her. “But we could see you for dinner later?”

              “That would be nice,” she says, standing up with me and walking with me to the door.

              “Now you take good care of her,” my mom tells Joey with a stern little wave of the finger.

              “Oh, he will,” I assure her. I give her another hug and we step outside.

              Joey’s car is waiting for us, and we climb in.

              “She’s just like I remember her,” he says as he starts the car.

              “You barely knew her!”

              “Yeah, but she always seemed so nice. You can tell she really cares about you.”

              Joey turns off my street and heads for the highway. It’s only a short drive to his exit, and we end up driving out into what seems like the middle of nowhere.

              “You sure you know where you’re going?” I tease him. But he only smiles. Finally, we reach a white stone drive flanked by two pillars and a gate. Joey thumbs a button under the dash of his car and the gate swings open. My window rolls down, and I’m instantly aware of the smells of freshly cut grass, crisp clean air, and flowers.

              The car rounds a bend and I see Joey’s
house
.

              I say
house
, because it’s more like a manor. Something like one of those estates out of
Pride and Prejudice
or something. I can feel Joey’s eyes on me, smiling as I take it all in.

              It’s almost too much. Enormous landscaped lawns stretch out before the sprawling stone building that looks like it could house a museum and probably does. Perfectly cut deep green bushes flank either side of the long driveway leading up to a circular fountain at the middle of the cul-de-sac just before the front door.

              As the car rolls to a stop I just turn to Joey and look at him, unable to believe it. He just smiles and steps out. I open my door, and feel the soft country air wash over me. Everything smells so good here, and I instantly feel at home. Joey hands his keys to a man wearing a smart looking jacket and crisp pair of pants. He hops in and drives the car to an enormous garage.

              “Servants? You have servants?” I say to him, my mouth agape.

              “Men who work for me,” he corrects me with a laugh. “They’re not servants. Come here.”

              He takes my hand and leads me up the white stone steps to two enormous mahogany doors. To my surprise, they swing open with ease and I find myself in an enormous hall of checkered marble and gleaming woodwork. Several statues have been placed about, and artwork that must have cost a fortune is hung in each of the hallways leading to the left and right. A large staircase rises up in front of me to the second floor. I can only imagine what the rest of the house looks like.

              When I turn, I find Joey watching me. I can tell by his eyes that he wants me to be happy. And how couldn’t I?

              “It’s…amazing, Joey.”

              His smile grows and he takes my hand. “I want to show you something.”

              He leads me down the hallway to my right. I can only stare as we pass paintings that cost more than everything I own. Finally, we reach a small door by a tall window that looks out over a beautiful field.

              “Are those horses? Your horses? You have horses?” I am stammering, but I can’t help it.

              “Why, do you ride?”

              “No, but I’ve always wanted to.”

              “Well we can get you lessons. If you have time, of course,” he says as he opens the door. When I see what’s inside, it takes my breath away.

              It’s an enormous studio, with paints and brushes and canvases, and more room than I could ever use.

              “You always wanted to paint,” I hear Joey say behind me. “And we have guys who do the walls, so—“

              I can’t control myself as I just about leap onto him. He tries to hide his wince, and I pull back, remembering he’s still hurt. But when I look at him, I realize I’m almost crying.

              “This feels like a dream, Joey.”

              “It’s not,” he says, kissing me on the forehead. “You’re definitely awake.”

              I turn back to the studio. My studio. It smells like an art studio. I run my hand across the brushes laid out on one of the tables, feeling the different bristles. It’s quiet, but one of the windows has been left open, and I can hear the sounds of the breeze rustling through the trees and the soft chirping of the birds. I could spend all day in here, and I probably will.

              It has everything. There’s things here I don’t even know what they’re for. And the paints. Endless rows of paints. Oils, acrylics, watercolors. Every shade imaginable. I could practically get lost in here. But there’s something so rustic and charming about the place, with its wooden easels and worn tables and benches. It feels like somewhere I’ve already been before and am finally returning to after a long time away.

              “This may be a huge mistake, babe. You might have to drag me out of here!”

              “I think I’ll be able to get you out of here sometimes,” he says, and I feel him press his body against mine. I turn around and look up at him, and when I see him now, I can’t believe I ever doubted him. The man standing before me now has every ounce of trust I could ever give, and the very thought of ever being suspicious of him seems impossible now. As my eyes move over his strong face, I know I will never have to worry about him. He’s mine, and he always has been. Even when we were apart. It’s just too bad it took almost getting killed for me to realize it.

              “So what are you going to do? I guess all that stuff about making furniture was just a ruse?”

              “I told you, Mia. I’d never lie to you.”

              He slips his arm around me and leads me out a side door of the studio I hadn’t noticed, to a cobblestone path heading out to a rustic looking barn. He slides open a large door and step into a warm golden light of a woodworking shop. It’s absolutely filled with projects, some finished, some half finished, and some barely begun.

              “I made you this,” he says beside me. I turn to see him standing by a beautiful chair that looks like it was designed to fit me perfectly. “It’s cherry and walnut, with an amber shellac finish. I just didn’t have time to move it into your studio with all the craziness of the last few days.”

              The wood is absolutely gleaming, and as I run my fingertips over it, I feel it’s as smooth as polished stone. It’s somewhat modern, but there’s something timeless about it as well. I take a seat.

              “Oh, Joey. It’s so comfortable!”

              “You like it?”

              “Of course I like it!” I almost shout. “How did you learn to do this?”

              “Here and there. I needed things to keep my mind off what we were doing. To keep my mind off…you…”

              I rise from my chair and take his hand.

              “Well, now when you’re working and your mind gets on me, you can walk right over there and get on me yourself.”

              It’s a corny joke, and I give him a corny smile to go along with it. He grins and kisses me.

              “It’s perfect, Joey.”

              And it is.

              It really is.

Five years later…

             
“You wanna go see what momma’s working on?”

              “Yea!”

              I hear my son, Kyle’s voice just outside the window as I finish up the last few strokes on a painting I’m doing on commission for a business up in Portsmouth. It’s an enormous ten by sixteen of Paris at dusk, the sun setting over the River Seine and a couple walking hand in hand along the sidewalk.

              Part of me loves it so much that I want to keep it here, but my memories with Joey are just beginning, and I don’t want us to get stuck in the past. After all, I have a family now.

              “Momma!” I hear Kyle’s childish giggle and shout behind me and his little footsteps slapping against the floor.

              “Hey, honey!” I say, spinning quickly around, just in time to snatch him under the arms as he jumps at me. “Oh, you’re getting heavy!”

              He laughs and I give him a hundred little kisses on the forehead.

              “Were you working with Daddy?”

              “Mmhmmm!” he says, nodding his head vigorously. “I helped!”

              “I bet you did. You’re quite the little man now, aren’t you?” He keeps nodding as Joey steps in from outside, holding Kevin in his arms.

              “How is he?” I say.

              “He’s good,” Joey replies, gently bouncing Kevin as he walks toward me. Kevin is fourteen months and growing fast. I have a feeling they’re both going to be big like their father.  

              I feel Kevin and Kyle’s brother kicking up a storm and look down at my belly. I’m due in two weeks. I was nervous the first time my body changed with the pregnancy, but Joey just seemed to love it anymore. He couldn’t keep his hands off my breasts. They grew more than a cup size, and I couldn’t keep him off me. It seemed like his horniness grew with the size of my belly. And I was more than okay with that.

              I’d always heard from other married couples that your sex life gets stale over the years, but that hasn’t happened to Joey and me. If anything, things have gotten better. With the kids, we’re sneaking off any spare second we have now like a couple of teenagers. Making up for lost time, Joey likes to say.

              We haven’t even asked the sex of the baby. I know it’s a boy. That’s all Joey and I can make. I’m going to have a pack of them running around the house before I know it, and I’ll have my hands full, and I’ll love it.

              Kyle already looks like him, but he’s got my nose and eyes. With Kevin, it’s too early to tell, but the way he looks around already reminds me of Joey’s body language. I hope they’ll all grow up to look like their father. I’ll have a whole pack of lady killers on my hand though, and that will be a lot of work come high school.

              With our situation now, I’ll be able to give them the life I never had—a life of opportunity, where anything is possible and circumstance doesn’t have to dampen their dreams. They can travel, they can paint, they can pursue their dreams in any way possible.

              “Are you almost done with your table?”

              “Almost,” Joey says, bringing Kevin over for a kiss. “Some more Planing and then it’ll be time to put the finish on.”

              Joey’s been working steadily and has really grown his furniture business. He’s become somewhat of a local name around the area, and people out of state are starting to notice his work. His most recent project is a stunning slab table made from a fallen walnut tree on our land. He’s having a show in a few days. I told him he’s cutting it close to my delivery date, but he assured me he’ll be done in time.

              It’s hard to believe that five years ago, I was tending bar and thinking about marrying another man. Telling Ian about Joey hadn’t been easy, but it had to be done. I couldn’t keep stringing him along. He deserves better than that.

              In the end, he’d found another girl that was far more fitting for him. Her name’s Christine, and she works at a small marketing firm in Portsmouth. They’re married and have an apartment there, and although we don’t keep in touch, I know he’s happy.

              We did get married in Paris, just like my mom said. Cassidy was my maid of honor, and Merrell was a bridesmaid. We’d fallen out of touch after high school when she went off to college, but she came back to Stonehill and we reconnected. It was so great to see her, and she couldn’t believe my story. When we whisked her away to Paris on a private jet, I thought her head was going to explode.

              It was amazing, and Joey somehow managed to rent out the top of the Eiffel Tower for an hour afterwards, and we all drank champagne and looked down at the city below, trying to point out movie locations we’d seen over the years. Joey had flown everyone back and we’d spent our honeymoon exploring France, the countryside, and the little towns in between.

              Somewhere along the way, I’d gotten pregnant with Kyle. We came back and I started to paint, and Joey worked on his furniture. We actually moved my mom into the house too. I couldn’t see her cooped up in that tiny place for the rest of her life, and with size of the place, we still have our privacy. She loves playing with her grandchildren, and I love having her here.

              Joey met up with his mom as well. She burst into tears when we showed up at her door. She said she’d always known he would come back to her. We have brunch with her every Sunday, and dinner sometimes during the week when she invites us over for alfredo or turkey.

              Joey built a little wooden fortress for Kyle in the side yard by the barn, complete with a little child-sized workbench he can use to pretend to be like his father. There’s a little hammer, a tool belt, and a saw, or as he says “thaw.” His voice makes me melt every time I hear it.

              “Momma,” Kyle says in that tone that I know now means he’s going to ask me for something.

              “Yes, baby?”

              “Can I—can I have a freeze pop?”

              I look over at Joey and we exchange smiles. “Hmm, a freeze pop. Let me think. What time is it?”

              “It’s free!”

              “Free? You mean three?”

              He nods his head vigorously.

              “Well, actually it’s four. But I guess you can have one before dinner. What color would you like?”

              I set Kyle down and we head toward the hall, but instead of walking, he has taken to jumping with two feet like he’s a frog.

              “A green one!”

              “Okay, a green one sounds good. Maybe Mommy will have one too. It is hot today.”

              Joey steps up beside me and takes my hand. I lean my head on his shoulder, feeling his warmth, smelling his smell, and feeling the joy of being his wife and the mother of his children. I look at Kevin and run a hand over my belly, feeling the brother soon to be born.

              I watch Kyle bouncing ahead of me down the hallway as we make our way to the kitchen, and I take a mental picture of this moment.

              This moment is perfect.

              And I know I will have more to come.

              More perfect days with my husband and my children.

              Who could have predicted that all those years ago when Joey walked out of my life, that he would walk back in and bring me everything I ever wanted?

              Who would have predicted that all that time apart, that tragic beginning, would lead to a happy ending?

THE END

Author’s Note

Thank you so much for reading my first book! I’m very proud of it, and I hope you enjoyed it. I loved writing the romance between Joey and Mia, and I plan to continue writing even more heart melting, panty wetting stories for you all to devour.

<3

Autumn Avery

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