BETWEEN NOW AND FOREVER: FOREVER TRILOGY BOOK 1 Read online

“Yes?” I ask, wanting her to say it.

  “Yes.”

  I grin up at her, and then I eat her just like I promised.

  When she’s done and begging me to stop, I carry her back to her room. Her sexy ass body, limp and languid with satisfaction that I gave her when I tuck her into bed.

  As I walk to my room, I’m buzzing. I need to come, bad, but that’s not the first thing I’m going to do. I’ve got another release happening in my mind. There’s a song, that’s been coming to me in pieces since we’ve been here. Until now, it’s only been a few bars at a time, but now there’s more, and I’m scared if I don’t get to my keyboard in time, it’ll be gone before I can capture it.

  It’s been months since I’ve heard anything that I wanted to turn into music.

  I thought I was broken. I run to my room, grab the electric keyboard I’ve been forced to use because of our year on the road, and lay down the bars of music.

  When I’m done, and I’ve got a stanza composed, I lie down and stare at the ceiling. Through the huge skylight windows above me, the sky is like a diamond-crusted shroud. I can’t see the stars like this in any of the cities I’ll be visiting on this tour.

  There’s something special about this place.

  And about Beth Wolfe.

  7

  BIRTHDAY SURPRISE

  ELISABETH

  Today is officially the best birthday I’ve ever had, and the sun hasn’t even come up yet. Carter is driving me back to my brother’s house, and he’s holding my hand. I look down at my hand, the one that’s currently intertwined with his on the center console.

  We’re winding our way back through the thickly wooded road that leads to West Winsome. His headlights are on bright, and we’ve been driving that way the whole drive, only dimming them on the rare occasion we’ve passed another car. The fog is heavy and almost impossible to see through in the still, dark dawn.

  We’re driving slowly, and even though I’m eager to get home, I’m dreading saying goodbye to Carter.

  Last night he gave me so many gifts, I can’t even count them. I won’t forget him or the way he showed me what my body was capable of. I didn’t know pleasure like that existed inside of me.

  I wanted to ask him to put his dick inside of me—in my pussy and my ass. I wanted to feel him and see if that would feel good, too, or if that part hurts, no matter who does it. But, maybe it’s for the best. I’m afraid that if we’d done that, I would be in even more trouble over him than I already am.

  We hold hands as he drives, talking and trying to squeeze as much information about each other into every second. He’s telling me about his Chelsea neighborhood, and I’ve closed my eyes while he describes his favorite Chinese restaurant and some sandwich called bao. My stomach rumbles and my heart flutters when he leans over to kiss me while we coast slowly down the road that leads to West Winsome.

  The difference between the way I felt the last time I was on the road is stark. I know it’s because the sun has yet to claim its place in the dawn sky and the night has still got me in its loving grip.

  He hasn’t mentioned staying in touch. I know I shouldn’t even think about it. What are the chances that this could be something…more? We haven’t had enough time to really know. But the last twenty-four hours felt like something special.

  I’m praying he’ll ask to see me again.

  If he doesn’t, then I’ll have to ask myself.

  Sure, he could say no. But, I’d rather that than spend the rest of my life wondering if I’d let my one chance at romance get away.

  I glance over at him and he smiles his dreamy, heartthrob smile at me and my toes curl.

  We pull into my brother’s driveway, and he throws the car into park.

  James’s Porsche Cayenne isn’t in its usual spot. I frown because it’s so early, and he should be home.

  But before I can think about it too deeply, Carter is reaching for me.

  I climb onto his lap and straddle him.

  My smile is so wide and endless that my cheeks hurt. I think I’ve been smiling like this since I sat down with his family last night. I press my forehead to his, and my heart beats triple time as we gaze into each other’s eyes.

  “We’re crazy, right?” Carter’s grin is as wide as mine.

  I nod. “Totally.”

  “Thank you for bringing me back,” I say and he cups the back of my neck.

  “Thank you for the song,” he says and then pulls me forward until we’re as close as we can be. I let the kiss say the words I can’t find.

  It’s a goodbye, but only for now, kiss.

  It’s a I know this is fast, but I want to see where it goes, kiss.

  It’s a let’s find a way to do this all the time, kiss.

  I’m so consumed in it, I have no idea how long we’re sitting there. The sun rises a few minutes into our kiss. A ray slides over us just as I hear the crunch of tires. My eyes pop open and my heart nearly falls into my stomach at the sight that greets me.

  We’re surrounded by three sheriff SUVs that completely block Carter’s car in. I scream and scramble off Carter’s lap.

  Their lights are flashing, and I’m queasy with fear that my father is with them. If he is, I’m finished. He’ll lock me up and throw away the key if he sees me with Carter.

  “Whoa. What’s going on?” Carter’s voice breaks my ruminating, and I open my eyes and feel the blood drain from my face.

  I’m cold with dread, but I scramble out of the car and face the music.

  A woman deputy gets out of the first car. I recognize her; she’s part of my dad’s security detail.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Your father sent us. You need to come with us,” she says gravely as I approach.

  “Sir, get back in your car, now.” A male officer gets out of his car, his weapon drawn, his expression a lethal calm. I turn around to see Carter is poised halfway out of his car and wince at the utter terror on his face.

  “Officer LaRoque, please put your weapon away. He’s my friend.”

  “Your father thought you’d been kidnapped,” he says coolly, but lowers his weapon.

  I breathe a sigh of relief and walk back to Carter.

  “It’s okay, they’re my father’s security detail, it’s fine. You should go,” I say shakily, worried out of my mind for what’s to come.

  He looks completely unconvinced.

  “What’s going on? Should I call your brother for you?”

  “Sir, get back in your vehicle and drive away. We work for her father and we have to get her on her way. There has been a family emergency.”

  My throat seems to close in on itself as I look to where James’s car should be parked. My chest starts to burn and I grab the car for support.

  I whip around to face the officer. “What kind of emergency?”

  “I’m sorry. Your brother was in an accident. You need to come quickly. Your parents are at the hospital.”

  I look at Carter, and without letting myself think about the consequences, press a kiss to his mouth in front of all of them and say a millisecond of a prayer for one day soon.

  Then without another minute to lose, I run inside and get dressed. On my way out of the door I see a cake box with a card stuck on top. My name is scrawled in James’s handwriting. It’s my birthday… and when he comes home later, we’ll cut that cake. Like we always do.

  8

  GHOSTS

  CARTER

  I’m still disoriented by the whirlwind of the last twenty-four hours when I walk into the drugstore in Winsome. I didn’t get to ask her, but I’m sure she’ll want to see me again. I grab a pack of condoms and get in line.

  I wish I’d fucked her, even though, part of me is glad I didn’t. The anticipation is exciting—the challenge of it all—the distance, my career that’s about to take off. I like difficult things; I always have. The path less traveled is the one I’m always inclined to take. The last few months of being straight-laced have taken a toll o
n my nerves.

  This thing with Liz is the first impulsive thing I’ve done since my arrest. But this doesn’t have disaster written all over it like my past impulse moves. She’s a nice girl with a brave big heart, and I want to spend the week dicking her down as much as I can. I have to go on this tour and then I’ll be busy with my new record deal, but I can come visit.

  When it’s my turn to check out, I’m antsy. My mother’s been calling, and I’ve been ignoring her because I know she’s just being impatient and because I’m sure she’s running late.

  “Did you find everything okay?” the elderly gray-haired woman at the register asks cordially. I like how friendly everyone here is. Well, except for Liz’s nutsack of a friend with a douchey name. Duke. How pretentious.

  “Yeah, I did, thanks.” I hand her my credit card.

  “We don’t take Amex her—” and she looks at me and gives a scream. Her face drains of blood like she’s seen a ghost.

  “Oh my God,” she wheezes and clutches her chest. She sags against the counter and continues to stare wide-eyed at me.

  I glance over my shoulder to see if anyone else is around. The store is as empty as you’d expect a drug store to be at 7:00 a.m. on a Sunday morning.

  I rush around the counter and help her to a seat.

  “Are you okay? Do you need a doctor?” I ask. She just stares at me, wild-eyed.

  “Did you hear me?”

  She makes a visible effort to compose herself and stands up straight.

  “You are a spitting image of my brother’s wife…may she burn in hell. You kin to the Martins?” she asks scornfully.

  “I’m sorry…no, I’m from New York.”

  She purses her lips like she doesn’t believe me. “How old are you?” she demands.

  She’s annoying, but the vicious urge to tell her to fuck off feels like an overreaction. She’s kinda old; she’s probably confused.

  But she’s looking at me like she’s sure of something.

  “Well?” she demands.

  “I’m twenty-two.”

  She looks up at the ceiling.

  Longing clogs my throat. I wasn’t born here, so being related to someone who is from here is impossible.

  She blinks like I splashed water in her face and then pulls her arm out of my grasp. “I can’t do the math. And you can’t be behind the register,” she says without a hint of gratitude for my efforts to help her.

  “Okay,” I say and walk back to my side of the counter.

  When I get there, she shoves my receipt at me and hands me the bag with my purchases.

  “Thank you for shopping with us; hope you enjoy your visit.” She hands me my goods and then looks past me and yells, “next.”

  There’s no one behind me, and I eye her for a second to see if she’s serious.

  “Sir, I need to keep the line moving,” she says curtly.

  “Sure. Sorry to hold you up,” I say sarcastically and she just keeps frowning at the imaginary customers behind me.

  I pass a man on the way out. He’s standing by the entrance and turns his back when I walk by.

  Well, fuck these people. So much for small-town hospitality.

  I’m halfway down the block when I realize that I forgot to get more shampoo. I rush back to the store, but when I get there, the lights are off and the door is locked.

  This town is fucking strange.

  9

  CLOVER AND LIES AND EVERYTHING DIES.

  ELISABETH

  “He’s very lucky,” my brother’s doctor says as he comes close to his chart.

  “Lucky? His face is half gone,” my father barks back, his fist wrapping around the arm of the bed so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

  “He’s lucky to be alive,” the doctor says reproachfully.

  My father grunts in disgust.

  The man gives Fiona and me sympathetic smiles and then leaves.

  My eyes return and remain riveted to the bruised, bloody face of my older brother. And that’s the part that’s not covered by a huge bandage. He was in surgery when I got here, and they’ve just wheeled him back in from recovery. They said he was awake when they called us back, but he’s been sleeping since we got to the room.

  My father hasn’t looked away from James’s face since we walked into the room.

  “Drew, are you okay? Let’s go get something to eat,” Fiona says, in what’s supposed to be a coaxing voice. But, it’s more seductive than anything, and my eyes slide to her.

  She looks like she just stepped out of a Pinterest post titled “How to Make Him Notice You Again.”

  “I don’t want anything to eat. But it doesn’t shock me that you do,” my father snaps angrily, his head shaking tersely, but his eyes remain glued to James.

  My stepmother’s eyes drop to her lap and her shoulders hunch.

  “I just don’t understand what he was doing out there at that time of night.”

  “Where exactly did the accident happen?” I ask, confused as well by that.

  My father’s pocket starts to vibrate.

  He pulls his phone out and puts it to his ear and barks out a terse, “What?” all without looking away from his son.

  “What the hell do you mean, they sold?” he shouts and turns his back to the bed and walks over to the window.

  If anything could make my father forget his injured son, it is his first and true love, Wolfe Construction.

  “I’m on my way.” He snaps his phone shut.

  “I’ve got to go to the office,” he says and stands to leave.

  Fiona looks startled. “You’re leaving? Now?”

  My father’s eyes flit back to the bed.

  “He’s not going anywhere. I’ll be back.”

  “Well let me drive you, then,” she says.

  “I have a driver, Fiona,” he says like she’s a moron.

  “I know. I just thought you might need me.”

  “I don’t need you,” he says, and then he’s gone. Fiona watches as the back of my father’s dark head disappears from view.

  “Look what you’ve done,” she says to no one in particular, the tremor in her voice mirrored by the one in her hands as she gathers her things and runs out of the room.

  I’m sure he’s already halfway down the hall. I imagine his long legs devouring the ground as he strides toward the exit. As he passes, the nurses and patients in the hallway stop and watch him, as if he’s his own one-man parade.

  I count down from twenty and am only on fifteen when Fiona stumbles back into the room. My father usually makes quick work of her, but I think this is a new record.

  She looks dazed and sad. “I’ve called my driver. He’ll be here in a few minutes.” She avoids my eyes and sits down, her gaze fixed on the wall. Her discomfort and desire to be left alone, unambiguous.

  She’s studiously avoided being alone with me for years now. Fortunately, I feel the same way about her. To say that we are complete opposites is an understatement of criminal proportions.

  My relationship with Fiona, even when I was a little girl, was marked by the crushing disappointment on her face every time she looked at me. She married my father and thought she was getting a ready-made family. At her wedding shower, one she invited me to even though I was only seven years old at the time, she told the room full of women to find a man who already has kids, and they could preserve their waistline to make sure they were their husband’s second and last wife. They’d all laughed.

  Soon, though, she learned the law according to Drew Fox. Heirs and spares or you’re out on your ear. My brother, Phil, was already showing signs of being less than willing to step into my father’s shoes. James was his golden child, but he needed insurance, so he kept having children. My mother birthed him a girl—me—last before he decided that she wasn’t up to the challenge. So, Fiona had a ton of pressure to reproduce.

  But alas, ten years later and their marriage proved to be a fruitless one. Miscarriage after miscarriage turned our house into a
ferris wheel of life before, during, and after in vitro. She prayed and prayed. And then two months ago, on the eve of her fortieth birthday, she announced she was pregnant.

  Suddenly, Fiona was smug again. This baby wasn’t just the child she’d always wanted. He was her anchor to my father and her shield from gossip. She called her pregnancy a miracle straight from God.

  “My car is here,” she says as she stands and comes to look down at James.

  “Such a shame. He was such a handsome boy.”

  “He still is,” I say, not hiding my annoyance at her speaking of him in the past tense.

  She smiles, a fake smile that shows every shade of her disdain.

  “Of course, dear. But, let’s just hope this little one is a boy.” She places a hand on her still flat stomach.

  My heart twists in compassion for my little brother or sister already. His parents are completely fucked up.

  When I don’t respond, she turns to leave. Only once she’s gone do I allow myself the luxury of honest emotions. I gaze down at my brother. He’s the last hook in the anchor that keeps me grounded. I’m sick to see how badly he’s hurt, but I’m indescribably grateful that he’s alive.

  * * *

  “Clover?”

  I gasp and look up to find James’s bright blue eyes searching my face. His expression is so serene. Even though he’s smiling at me, I can tell that he’s not really seeing me.

  “I thought we agreed to leave that nickname behind us.”

  His laugh is a dry, brittle imposter of his real laugh, but I’m relieved to hear it.

  “For old times’ sake, right?” He smiles.

  “I guess. You just missed Fiona.“

  “No, I heard all of it. I just kept my eyes closed until they left.”

  I laugh in surprise.

  “I love your laugh,” he says.

  I give him a disbelieving side eye.

  “Don’t think I don’t remember the Mr. Ed jokes you made every time I laughed.”

  “It’s your birthday.”