Between Now and Always: Forever Trilogy Book 3 Read online

  Between Now and Always

  Forever Trilogy Book 3

  By Dylan Allen

  The Forever Trilogy

  This is book 3 in a Trilogy.

  You must read book 1 and 2 FIRST.

  Book 1 is Between Now and Forever- You can get it here.

  Book 2 is Between Now and Heartbreak - You can get it here.

  Copyright © 2019 by Dylan Allen

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  If you want the moon …do not hide at night.

  If you want a rose … do not run from the thorns.

  If you want love … do not hide from yourself.

  Rumi

  Contents

  Introduction

  The Lies We Tell Ourselves

  Always

  I Do

  Cold Turkey

  Freedom

  Heart of A Lion

  Oh, Brother

  The Free Beth

  A Woman’s Will

  Uninvited and Troubled.

  Rabbit Hole of Frustration

  Serious Voodoo

  Destiny Manifest

  My Best Everything. Ever.

  The More The Merrier

  Exiles

  Something You Can’t Replace

  Tell The Truth

  This is Killing Me

  Forbidden Fruit

  Free Fall

  Between You and Me

  Because I’m Happy

  Not a Good Time

  What Are You Waiting For?

  The Eleventh Commandment

  Prince Charming Sends a Carriage

  I Want to Sing to You

  Come With Me

  City Of Lights

  You Love Her. But You Don’t.

  New Beginning

  I Want To Lie To You.

  This is What Family Does

  The Devil’s Due

  I Never Got Over Losing You

  Mastermind

  That’s Your Plan?

  I’d Do It Again

  Justice

  EPILOGUE

  Extended Epilogue

  Ever After

  About the Author

  Also by Dylan Allen

  Introduction

  Dear reader,

  Beth and Carter’s path to happily ever after will make you want to throw your kindle at times.

  But hopefully it will also make you clutch it to your chest and hug it.

  It will feel dramatic at moments, but I ask you to remember that there’s nothing in this book that’s not based on real human experiences. Either my own or that of the people I interviewed and studied while I was writing this story.

  Where these characters start is not where they end up. I hope you fall in love with them the way I did and that at the end of the third book you feel like you never want to let them go.

  If you’re ready for the kind of heartbreak that is the unavoidable wage of epic love, then you will love this story.

  Thank you for taking this journey with me. I promise, in the end, it will be worth it!

  Love,

  D.

  This Book is Dedicated to my father.

  His life is a testament to the intervening power of love.

  Daddy, Thank you for a lifetime of soul deep and abiding love. I’m so proud to be your daughter.

  The Lies We Tell Ourselves

  BETH

  “I love your dress, it’s incredible,” the woman crouched at my feet says as she makes sure the hem is arranged just right.

  “Thank you,” I force myself to smile at her. I know she’s just trying to do something to lighten the mood. This best way to describe the vibe my family gives off is “just hostile enough to stiffen your spine.”

  This photo shoot was scheduled is to capture images for his campaign to use. The photographer has had us walking around the house, posing in “candid” stances while smile and gesture like we’re talking.

  At a real wedding - or with a real family - these sorts of pictures would be captured over the course of the day. But, since we’re not a real family, the chance that you’ll find us smiling into each other’s eyes and actually talking to each other are nil. So, we faked it.

  We’ve been through what feels like three dozen poses and my dress has gone from being uncomfortable to feeling like a restraint.

  I’m the star of this show, I have to be in every shot. It’s hot. Even shade offered by the avidly lush leaves of the sky scraping Black Walnut trees we’re clustered under can’t mute the punishing intensity of mid-morning summer sun. I’m wilting, both physically and emotionally.

  “When I get married, I want a dress just like it,” the woman croons in a reverent voice before she hurries out of the shot.

  “Your dress is ostentatious, if you ask me,” Phil says sotte voci, his smile never wavering.

  “Well, I didn’t ask you and I don’t care what you think,” I hiss, trying to smile at the photographer’s prompt.

  “Please, smile so everyone can tell how much you love each other,” the photographer says, his expression desperate.

  “Smile, Elisabeth, this is the first day of the rest of your sad life,” he says as he grins jovially for the camera.

  He’s taken advantage of the forced intimacy of these poses, and has resumed his campaign. But he’s abandoned persuasion and has just gone full on bully.

  “Open your mouth a little like you’re chuckling, Phil,” he calls.

  “Just take the picture, man.” Phil snaps. The man resumes his work without saying another word. I watch Phil surprised by the way his voice cracked just now. He’s been belligerent all afternoon, but, he’s not enjoying this any more than I am.

  “Can you at least pretend that you have some manners?” I hiss through clenched teeth when he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me close him in the middle of the shot.

  “You mean, like you’re pretending this is a real wedding?” he whispers in the same patronizing tone I used on him.

  I keep my smile in place, but lean away and ask him. “Why are you here?”

  “Free booze, why else?” he says with a roguish smile.

  “I’m getting married,” I whisper furiously.

  “Not if I can fucking help it.” His eyes harden and his smile turns sinister.

  “You two can step aside for now. We’re going to take pictures of your parents,” he says and I pull out Phil’s hold and stalk away from the backdrop my father had built for today’s shoot. The wall of white flowers is dotted with jewels and embossed with a giant W made of lilacs. I supposed it’s beautiful. But all I think when I look at is that it’s a tragic waste of perfectly beautiful flowers.

  “Mother of the bride, we’ll take a few of you alone, first,” the photographer calls over to where my father and Fiona are standing with Agnes.

  “I’m her stepmother,” Fiona corrects indignantly and heads over from the bench she’s been sharing with my father and Cameron.

  “He misspoke. It’s obvious you’re hardly old enough to be her sister,” the photographer’s assistant coos without missing a beat.

  “We’ve all aged waiting for this infernal shoot to wrap up,” my father snarls and stalks toward the assistant who is marking their positions.

  Fiona follows him, her gait stunted by the hem of her one size too tight, lilac strapless dress. Cameron sits on her hip, tugging at her mother’s neckline as if even she knows it’s cut far too
low.

  Fiona stops when we reach each other, shading her face with a jeweled hand at her brow. Her discomfort — whether from the heat, the dress, or this farce of a photoshoot - is written all over her pretty face. Hair sticks to her neck in sweaty wisps, and her skin is splotchy from the sun.

  They’re going to need to photoshop the hell out of the pictures.

  “Phil, can you take Cameron inside for me? See if you can find Serene and ask her to give her a snack. I want her nice and satisfied before we all head over. Last thing I need is for her to be cranky this afternoon.”

  “I’ll take her to get a snack myself,” Phil says his excitement evident by the buoyant lilt of his voice. He reaches over and takes hold of an equally delighted Cameron.

  “That’s fine, just don’t let her eat any junk. Fruit or rice cakes only,” Fiona says, shooting one last warning glance at Phil before she teeters off to take her place next to my father.

  “Come on, baby girl. We can do better than that, let’s go see what we can find in the kitchen.” Phil says in a mock hushed tone. Cameron clasps her tiny hands around his neck and looks up into his face with solemn, searching eyes.

  After a few seconds, she says “Chocolate,”

  Phil nods, his expression as solemn as hers “Always, chocolate,” he responds as if he’s making a vow. Then he nuzzles her neck with his nose. Her giggle sounds like bells bubbling up her throat reaching its crescendo when she throws her head back, her little brown curls glow like amber as they catch the sun’s rays. Her radiant smile is the picture of happiness.

  Her giggles turn into shrieks of delight as he spins her around a few times, laughing and watching her like she’s the eighth wonder of the world.

  My breath catches and my heart skips a beat.

  I’ve been so busy avoiding Phil - I missed the evolution of their relationship from strangers to brother and sister. A pang of longing for the whimsy and ease between them hits me hard and unexpected.

  But as I watch them, relief accompanies, and then overshadows the jealousy at their obvious mutual infatuation.

  I know firsthand that children need a village to raise them. I’ve been worried that hers is so small. I’m grateful and soothed to see that she has another person in her life who loves her like this.

  “More,” Cameron chortles and tugs at his neck.

  “No more spinning for you, princess. Your mama will have a fit if you get sick all over her pretty dress. Okay?” Phil eyes her, waiting for her to respond.

  “Okay,” she says, her little voice quavering, but her little mouth is set in a brave, solemn smile. She nods up at Phil, her eyes full of hero worship.

  They press their foreheads together for a brief but endearing snuggle, and just like that they’ve got a deal. My eyes mist again,but I don’t mind this time. Because for the first time in a long time, they’re happy tears.

  “Are you happy, Cam?” I ask.

  She turns to look at me and her smile is positively beatific. The unmitigated trust shining in her hazel eyes is everything I hold dear and my heart beats a little harder every time I look into them.

  “I happy. Uh-huh,” she says and reaches out for me with one plump arm.

  I glance at Phil and find him watching with me an intensity that makes me feel like he can see straight into my head. He’s not letting up because he knows I don’t want to do this. He can tell, even though I’ve put on a meticulous and disciplined show of being the perfect town princess.

  Even Dina seems to think that this is what I want, and she’s stopped trying to talk me out of it.

  But, he isn’t giving up because he knows somehow, that this is not what I would choose.

  Cameron’s arm slides around my neck and Phil’s wraps around my back and they pull me into a hug. I stiffen in surprise, for a second, I haven’t had a group hug like this since we were all here together…and I’d forgotten how good it feels to be part of a unit like this. We’re all Drew Wolfe’s children. And we’re the only people on earth who understand what that means. And it’s nice to be able to put my arms around them. I wish our parents weren’t such losers. And that we’d had a chance to get to know each other and really be a family.

  I lean into their embrace and savor this feeling..

  “Let me help you,” Phil whispers in my ear, shattering my tranquility so abruptly that my emergency walls go up before those words find their way into my head.

  I’ve been fine, committed, pragmatic, and focused. But today, on the day where I actually have to do this thing, I’m weak.

  Phil is on a mission. He could convince me and then, where would I be?

  The wave of panic I beat back in the bathroom sticks its thumb out to test the wind.

  I pull out of the hug as casually as I can and act as if I didn’t hear Phil and smile at them both.

  “You need to get Cam a snack, remember?” I chide him somehow managing to speak through my emotion clogged throat.

  “Come inside with us,” Phil’s tone has softened and I give him a narrow eyed glance.

  “Why? Have you got kidnappers standing by?” I ask, only half kidding.

  His doesn’t smile. Instead, he gives me a slow once over.

  Self-conscious and offended, I reach up to smooth the french twist that’s holding my hair. “It’s rude to stare, Phil. Don’t teach Cam all your bad habits,” I scold.

  “You’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen, and if you want to do this, really want to, for whatever reason, I’ll support you,” he says, his voice no longer mocking and look back to find his eyes full of what looks a lot like resignation.

  This is what I’ve been hoping he would say. So, why does hearing it make my soul shudder? The smile I give him is stiff, but it’s the best I can do when my insides feel like they’re turning to water.

  “Thank you, Phil,” I say.

  “Does your face hurt from forcing yourself to smile when you’re dying on the inside?” he asks with compassion savage enough to swallow my composure in one bite.

  My smile, the one I was wearing for Cameron’s sake, falls away.

  “Fuck you,” I mouth, press a kiss to the top of Cam’s head and turn to walk inside.

  “Liz, wait,” he calls out after me but I don’t stop until I’m inside. I press my forehead to the cool glass pane of the door and find myself struggling to pull my breath into my lungs.

  “I’ve been looking for you.” Serene’s soft voice is urgent and puts a hand on my shoulder. I blink to clear the emotion from my eyes and force my lips to curve upward before I turn to face her.

  Her expression is neutral and she smiles, but I can see the sympathy in her gaze. I wish everyone would stop acting like this is a funeral.

  But if it’s not a funeral, what is it?

  I force away that traitorous thought. I’ve made my choice.

  I don’t care what they think.

  “What did you need?” I ask her in a brisk voice.

  “Where’s Phil?” she asks, instead of answering my question.

  “Phil?” I ask, confused that she’d be looking for him.

  “Right here, I’ll walk her in.” Phil strolls up, Cameron clinging to him still and puts an arm around my shoulder.

  “I don’t need anyone to walk me.” I try to pull free, but he holds on tight.

  Serene smiles at him, like she didn’t hear me.

  “Let me take Cameron, then,” she reaches out and peels a whining Cam out of Phil’s arms.

  Serene blows a raspberry on her cheek and before they turn the corner toward the kitchen, Cam is giggling again.

  “What’s going on?” I demand.

  “Wheels are in motion,” Phil’s cryptic response makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Come on.” He grins and grabs my arm and starts walking me down the wide hallway that leads to the family’s library.

  “Where are we going?” I try to dig my heels in and stop hi
m. But, he’s got more than a hundred pounds on me and my efforts are useless.

  “This will only take a minute.” He says tersely as we enter the wing of the house where guests have been staying.

  “What’s so important that it can’t wait?” I demand and he finally comes to a stop and looks down at me.

  “You are. You can’t make this decision based on a lie,” he says. The dam holding back the raging river of emotion inside of me starts to crack. Bitter resentment claws its way up my throat.

  “My entire existence is a lie, Phil. What’s one more log on the fire?” My voice breaks and I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from crying.

  His expression goes from censorious to tormented. “I know I let you down. But, I won’t again, I swear,” he whispers. He pulls back the cuff of his shirtsleeves and shows me the tiny tattoo on his wrist. “Live Free Or Die Trying.”

  “It’s beautiful,” I say, and run my fingers over the precious words.

  “This is what you want, right?” he asks.

  I nod, I can’t lie about this.

  “See? I know you — blood of my blood. That’s all you want. Come on. You need to know who you’re really marrying.” He starts to pull me down the hall, again.

  “Phil, I know he’s with someone,” I call, digging my heels in again.