“Nothing,” Paisley answers.
All three of us look out the window, taking her in. We look like some episode from I Love Lucy.
“Any suggestions?” Now that I see her, I’m freezing up. Noah Calhoun would be disappointed in me.
Reese shrugs and then says, “I would do what you do best and make a scene.”
I am good at making scenes.
“Fuck, why is love so hard?”
“Because it wouldn’t be worth it if it was easy,” Paisley responds before going to answer the door. Someone else is here.
I follow Reese out into the pool area, helping him carry the food he plans on grilling, making sure to keep my eyes straight ahead. I don’t want to look like a drooling lovesick puppy, even though I am one.
Bodi and his girl Ruby walk into the backyard, hand in hand. They look good together and for the first time, ever since I’ve known the man, he looks truly happy, not so haunted or scared. She must be good for him.
Turning to Reese, I say, “I think I’m just going to do it.”
“I would,” Reese replies, without turning to talk to me directly, his focus on the grill in front of him. “It will be fucking awkward if you don’t. You know, with you staring at her the whole time.”
“But what if she turns me down?”
“Then she turns you down and you keep trying. This isn’t your last chance, so stop treating it like it is.”
He’s right. “I love her, man.”
“I know the feeling, bro. It fucking kills you when your relationship is in limbo, so instead of talking to me like some lovesick jackass, go talk to her.”
He’s right. I need to talk to her.
Taking a chance, I pull my shirt off over my head, adjust my swim trunks, and then canonball it into the pool, right next to her, causing her peaceful float to be flipped over.
Like I said, I’m good at making scenes.
We pop out of the water at the same time. Her hair is now wet, her sunglasses floating next to her, and the most beautiful look is in her eyes as she shouts, “You fucker.”
Well, not the warm welcoming I was hoping for, but then again, I did dunk her.
Playing the innocent card, I say, “Oops, were you trying to stay dry, Hot Sex?”
Mirth dances in her eyes, giving me so much hope I might combust. “Don’t fucking call me that.”
“Make me.” I pull on her arm, forcing her closer, only for her to palm my face keeping me at arm’s length. Talking through her hand, my voice muffled, I say, “I love it when you fight dirty, Hot Sex.”
“I’m going to kill you.”
“Right about now, I would take any kind of attention from you. Kill away, baby.”
Her face softens and right then and there, I know I have her.
Not letting her get the upper hand, I push her toward the end of the pool that curves around the hot tub, giving us a little privacy. I pin her against the side and straddle her body with my arms.
“I’ve missed you.”
“Yeah?” she asks, swallowing hard.
“Yeah.”
“Then why didn’t you come to visit if you missed me so much?”
“I was afraid you were going to throat punch me if I did.”
“Throat punch? Never. Knife hand, possibility.”
Fuck if I don’t want to kiss her right now. This is the Melony I’ve missed. The teasing Melony, full of light in her eyes. This is the Melony I fell in love with so easily.
“I was smart then, avoiding the knife hand.”
“If you’re so smart, what are you doing now?”
I push in closer and say, “Winning you back.” She smiles sheepishly at me. Fuck, she’s adorable. “How am I doing?”
“I still think Noah has the edge on you.”
I shake my head. “That romantic bastard. What do I have to do to top him?”
She shrugs. “Something extreme.”
“I might have something extreme up my sleeve, but first, I have to know, do you love me?”
“What?” she asks, off guard.
“It’s a simple question, Melony. Do you love me?” Growing serious, I add, “Because I sure as fuck love you. I think I’ve loved you from the moment you told me to get lost. And when you told me about your dad, that just made me love you even more, because it showed me who you really are.”
“And who is that?” she asks, her eyes cast down at the water.
I lift her chin so she’s forced to look at me. I speak with all my heart. “You’re a beautifully scarred and imperfect woman. Imperfect in the way that you don’t see yourself as everyone else does, and it’s your biggest flaw. You refuse to notice how you light up the room when you walk in it, how you can easily make someone smile with just your sassy words, how you hold so much love inside of you but are scared to let people see it. You’re scarred in the best way possible, which means you have a hole in your heart.”
“How is that a good thing?” she asks, tears starting to form in her eyes.
“Because, I don’t like sharing. If you had a perfectly filled heart, then I would have to share you with another man. But you are special, and your heart is reserved for me and me alone. I get to fill it, a challenge I’ve come to love. I knew growing up, I want what my parents have, a loving relationship, a committed relationship, one that exists only in fairy tales, and I won’t settle for anything less. You are my fairy tale, baby, nobody else. So tell me, do you love me?”
Tears fall from her eyes as she nods her head, my heart swelling to maximum capacity in my chest.
“Let me hear those words, baby.”
Gazing into my eyes, she says, “I love you, Hollis.”
As much as I want to grab her and kiss the fuck out of her, I need to know if she wants us.
“Melony, are you in? Will you put faith in us? In me?”
The slow smile that takes over her face is mesmerizing. She is so beautiful. I have missed her so much. “Yes, Hollis. I’m in. I want us, too.”
I don’t give it a second thought, my hand grips the back of her neck, and I pull her in for a kiss, our mouths melding together, our love being sealed. This moment. Right here. This will forever be branded in me, the day my girl first tells me she loves me. Just like the day Noah Calhoun kisses Allie on the dock, the rain pouring down on them, this is my fucking moment, in my best friend’s pool with peering eyes watching over us.
When I pull away, I keep my eyes on Melony and shout, “She loves me!” Everyone around us cheers; even Bodi, the grumpy bastard.
“Thank fuck,” Reese shouts. “We can stop bringing him ice cream every other day.”
“Ice cream?” Melony raises an eyebrow at me.
I pat my stomach. “I eat like a woman, you should know this by now.”
“How could I forget?” She laughs and pulls on my bottom lip. “So I told you I love you, what’s your edge on Noah Calhoun?”
Oh yeah, how could I forget?
“I don’t know if you can handle it, baby.”
“I can handle it,” she counters.
“I don’t know . . .”
She pokes my stomach, “Just tell me.”
“All right, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Clearing my throat, I say, “Melony, Boo and Bear, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”
Melony stares at me for a second, complete and utter shock on her face. I wait patiently for her answer.
I stare into her eyes, willing her to say yes when she slaps water right in my face and says, “You’re ridiculous.” She then floats away.
I pinch my nose, trying to get the chlorine out. “So I’m going to take that as a maybe?”
Floating in place, she turns to look at me and winks, “You can take that as a maybe.”
Well, fuck me, I better start ring shopping.
Epilogue
MELONY
“Have you seen these closets? Heeelloooooo,” Hollis shouts into the empty space. “Pretty sure you could murder someone in these closets and get
away with it.”
“Do you plan on murdering anyone?” I ask, my eyes fixated on the vaulted ceilings.
“No, but if I wanted to, I could in these closets.” He pops his head out and then says, “Baby, we could totally stick a nursery in here.”
“Nursery is going in a room, not in a closet.”
“But if we wanted it in a closet, we could put a child in here.”
“You know there is more to this house than the walk-in closet, right? Like the view from the deck off the master bedroom.”
Hollis comes up behind me and puts his hand on my growing belly. A few weeks after Hollis proposed to me in Reese’s pool, I found out I was pregnant. Looks like my birth control wasn’t so effective after all. Looking back, it all makes sense to me: why I was so sick to my stomach all the time, why I was so emotional. I now tell Hollis my indecision when it came to us was all due to the baby. He doesn’t believe one word of it. He likes to think that we were bound to have our ups and downs because according to him, what is love without an epic story to go with it?
Sigh, he really is a romantic. And he really is mine.
Once I came to my senses, lowered the shield around my heart and let Hollis in, life has been wonderful. Sure, we’ve had our fights, stupid ones of course. We’ve gone to bed angry, only for Hollis to wake up in the middle of the night and demand make-up sex. I swear, sometimes he picks fights just for the make-up sex. He doesn’t think I know, but I do.
And now we’re expecting a baby girl; he’s done nothing but cater to me, making sure my every need is fulfilled. How could I have thought this man would do anything less than love me so thoughtfully and constantly? How could I have possibly thought he would leave me? That he wouldn’t stick around. I’m an idiot, I see that now. I’ve been so guarded my entire life, and understandably too afraid to let anything get by the walls I put up around my heart.
I’m so grateful Hollis spent months trying to knock them down. In some respects, I needed that. I needed him to keep pursuing me, to insist I was worth the effort. He’s taught me a lot about love. It’s worth chasing. It’s worth pursuing. And when we’ve fought, he’s become angry. But in his anger, he hasn’t left me. We’ve wrestled through some tough moments, and as a result, he’s also taught me something about myself.
I’m lovable. I’m someone worth staying for. Worth fighting for. I’m not worthless.
“What do you think, baby?” Hollis kisses the side of my neck. “Does Mrs. Knightly want to live here with me?
Yes, Mrs. Knightly. The moment Hollis found out I was pregnant, he demanded we get married at once. I think he was just using the baby as an excuse, because up until then, he’d asked me to marry him every day before we went to bed, and my answer was always maybe. When he asked me after we found out about our baby, my answer was yes. The next day he had his family, my mom, her fiancé, Mehi—who I adore—Reese, Paisley, Bodi, and Ruby down at the courthouse ready to witness our union. Afterward, we had a small reception at Reese’s house. How Hollis got everything done in such a short amount of time, I will never know. All he said was, he Noah Calhouned my ass.
Of course he did.
After finishing up with Bellini—such a shame . . . not—I started working on my lip-stain line. I had the contacts and had found people ready to work with me, but I’ve put some of that to the side to spend more time with my mom, and with Mehi. When I moved in with Hollis, since I had six months left on my lease, I offered my apartment to my mom, and having her closer has been wonderful. She’s stopped working full-time, is taking better care of her health, and is blossoming under Mehi’s love . . . just as Hollis said was possible. I think his exact words were, “See, Hot Sex? Love conquers all.” Sappy, but in our case, true.
I scan the master bedroom with its magnificent view of the ocean, and the regular sound and rhythm of the waves crashing into the sand, and I sigh. “Yes, this place is perfect. Are you sure we can afford it?”
He kisses my cheek. “Baby, didn’t you know? I’m a three-time Olympic gold medalist. I can afford it. Anything for my Hot Sex. You want the beach? I’m giving you the beach. Big Daddy listens.”
I roll my eyes to myself from the nicknames he still insists upon using.
“But do you like it?” I ask, not wanting him to pick a place just because I like it.
“Babe, did you see the closets?”
“I did, but can you picture yourself living here?” I look over at the realtor, Anthony, who is waiting in the foyer as Hollis and I make our way around the house again. It really is the most magnificent house, not in grandeur, but in the feel of the place. It’s warm, open, homey, and ready to be filled with love.
Taking my hand, he guides me back into the main living area where pocket doors open onto the backyard deck. The wooden deck is incredible with its large space for a table and chairs, a fire pit, and about a twenty-foot walk to the shoreline. It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of.
Wrapping his arms around me completely, he lowers his head over my shoulder so we are both looking toward the ocean.
“This feels like home, Melony. That kitchen is where we’ll cook family dinners together. This living room is where we’ll play board games with our children. That deck is where we’ll have birthday parties and graduation parties. I see this as not just a home, but a place to make memories, memories with you.”
See, how can I not fall for this man on a daily basis?
Smiling, I kiss his forearm that’s wrapped around me. “Did you just Hollis Knightly me?”
“I think I did, Hot Sex. Did it work?”
“More than you will ever know . . . Big Daddy.”
“Hallelujah!” he praises and then shouts, “Anthony, we’ll take it. Big Daddy has spoken.”
The End
Epilogue Part Two
Note from Meghan: Let’s be honest, Bellini is the worst villain, ever. Because of this, I went to my fans to see how they would like to see her demise. I made it a competition and picked two fans and infiltrated their ideas in finally giving Bellini what she deserves. Thank you to Mo Phillips and Karen Jones for the great ideas. I hope I did you justice.
**WARNING, ONLY PROCEED if you want to read something completely over-the-top ridiculous that most likely would never happen in life but is completely justified for the blonde wench of this series. Enjoy.**
BELLINI
“Glad you decided to show up looking like a trash bag once again, Mauve,” I say as she approaches me with the stupid iPad she clutches to her chest as if it’s holding her tits up. I wouldn’t put it past her to use it as a bra; the woman has zero class.
“Your insults aren’t going to get you out of this, Bellini, as they are the reason why you’re in trouble.”
“I’m sorry, but when you speak, do you realize piles upon piles of rotten, mutilated remnants of trash fall out of your mouth?”
“Denial, is that how you’re going to play this? That’s mature.” Mauve folds her arms over her chest and stares at me.
“Mature? You want to talk to me about being mature?” I ask, popping a Tic Tac in my mouth. “This coming from the woman who wears man boots with ratty shorts that show off your gross clam every chance you get.”
Mauve rolls her eyes and then says, “You should know by now that whatever you say has no effect on me. Do you realize what’s going to happen to you, Bellini?”
God, she’s so annoying. Her black hair looks like a gaggle of woodland creatures decided to nestle in for the winter, her tank top is entirely too big on her, showing off way too much side boob area—Miley Cyrus called, she wants her look back—and those disgusting boots she insists upon wearing. Puke worthy. How Reese can even consider her attractive is beyond me. Apparently he loves humping a garbage can.
Ever since I received a letter about some asinine idiot, who worked with me during a photo shoot, suing me, Mauve has been harping incessantly into my ear about morals and being a kind person.
I’m kind. I tried to fi
nd her a lesbian to love. That was until she told me she’d lied about liking women. Here I was being the perfect Samaritan and trying to find a lonely, atrocious-looking troll to love and it’s just thrown back in my face. That’s what you get for being nice.
I passed off the letter as some ridiculously confused moron who drank way too much Barton’s vodka, found an old IBM computer and typed up a silly, cretinous letter full of lawyer forgery. At least that’s what I thought it was . . .
“Are you listening to me?” Of course I’m not listening to her. She’s putrid. “You’re going to lose everything.” That grabs my attention.
I snap my attention up to her grotesque face. “What do you mean I’m going to lose everything? That’s a horrid thing to joke about? Is your life that pathetic that you have to make up lies to make the pretty people temporarily have heart attacks?”
Not showing one ounce of remorse over her joke, she sets her electronic item down and says, “Bellini, I’m not fucking around with you.” Ugh, see, trash floats right out of her mouth. “Your contract with Wally Rose is terminated due to violating your code of conduct. You are being sued for millions upon millions of dollars. You will be bleeding money by the time this is all over, because not only is Sam Bidwell suing you for defamation of character and damages, but so is the production company for violating their code of conduct on multiple occasions.”
“What blasphemous code of conduct?” I screech, my mind whirling with the information Mauve is spewing at me like venom. “And who the hell is Sam Bidwell?”
Sighing, Mauve says, “Sam Bidwell is the set designer we’ve hired for photo shoots that you, on a routine basis, have referred to as Bob Vila, Fromunda cheese, Gouda guy, and charcuterie pits. He was the one you harassed when he brought a regular bench to the set rather than an African blackwood one.”
“Oh, that imbecile. He deserves the harassment. Anyone who believes oak is the same as African blackwood should be crucified. He deserved what he got.”
“No one deserves that kind of treatment, Bellini. He is a human being and should be treated with respect. That is why you are being sued by him and by production. If you’d read your contract, you would have seen that the code of conduct clearly stated unethical behavior such as harassment to others will not be tolerated. Wally has been lenient with you, but he’s had enough. He’s pulling up every offense ever committed by you, including your idiotic pet names for all of us.”