Capturing Peace (15 page)
And it was then I understood all of it. Starting with the pictures of Coen hiding his eyes or face, changing into the ones of us together where there was no longer anything for him to hide behind, to him baring his soul to tell me more than I’d ever expected him to.
I took off running for the front door, and flung it open. Keegan and Erica were standing against Keegan’s truck looking to my left; and when I followed their gazes, I found Coen walking away and running his hands over his face.
I tried calling out his name, but nothing came out as I ran after him. He must have heard my approach, because he turned just in time for me to launch myself at him. He staggered back a step before steadying himself as I wrapped my legs around his waist and pressed my lips firmly to his.
When I finally pulled back, I found his dark eyes filled with tears, and if he hadn’t been holding me, the sight would have brought me to my knees. “We can’t live without you. I’m sorry I tried to hurt you, I’m so sorry for everything I—”
He cut me off with a hard kiss. “Don’t apologize. God,
please
don’t.”
“I love you, Coen; Parker loves you, we need you.”
His dark eyes held mine as he promised, “I swear to you I’m not going anywhere again.”
I nodded and spoke through the tightness in my throat. “I know.”
He started walking back toward the studio with me still in his arms as he whispered, “I love you. I’m going to marry you, and adopt Parker. I’m going to give you that forever, Reagan.”
As we reached the door, Erica spoke up. “Don’t worry about tonight. Parker’s spending the night with your parents, just have fun.”
I sent her a grateful look, and just barely caught my brother’s horrified expression as Coen walked us inside.
“Don’t have too much fun!”
Coen just shut and locked the door behind us, before capturing my mouth again and walking us slowly through his studio. Letting me slide down his body, he helped me take off his shirt and pants without ever once stopping his advance. By the time we made it to the large bed, my bra was being dropped to the floor and he was pulling off my underwear as he gently pushed me down onto the bed.
As I slid to the middle of the bed, my body heated and stomach tightened. He crawled on top of me and positioned himself between my legs. Grabbing one of my hands, he intertwined our fingers as he slid inside me, and I audibly exhaled at the feel of him again. I’d missed this connection. Missed the way his body felt against mine. Missed the way the muscles in his arms and back tensed and shuddered below my fingertips as he controlled our movements. Missed the way shivers ran up my spine as his lips ghosted over the most sensitive parts of my body. Missed the way his dark eyes conveyed more emotion than any words ever could.
“I love you,” he whispered, the words sounding like a promise as my fingers tightened around his and a surge of heat rushed through my body seconds before he followed me into his own release.
We stayed in each other’s arms, talking softly as our bodies relaxed over the next few minutes, and I wondered how I ever thought I could live without this man, and was so thankful that he never once gave up on me.
“I want to stay here all night with you,” he admitted as he pulled me onto his chest. “But what would you think to getting dressed, picking up Parker, and going out to dinner as a family? We have to celebrate your birthday.”
Somehow, more tears filled my eyes as a wide smile slowly crossed my face, and I kissed him roughly before sitting up, pulling him with me. “Thank you for understanding me.”
His lips tilted up in a crooked smile and he shook his head before his dark eyes met mine. “If only you knew how backward that thank-you was, Duchess.”
Reagan—
June 18, 2011
L
OOKI
NG OVER AT
Keegan’s fiancée, Erica, I winked and watched as she turned with a smile and began walking away from where I was standing.
“You ready?” Dad asked as he held out his arm for me to take.
With a wide smile, I put my arm through his, bounced up on my toes once, and nodded. “So ready.”
“Here we go.”
My eyes found Coen’s the second we walked into the chapel, and my heart began pounding as I looked at him standing there with Keegan and Parker. I knew I’d waited for this moment my entire life, and I knew I’d found the perfect partner, friend, and lover in Coen—as well as father for Parker.
We still argued instead of talking things out. It still worked perfectly for us; and not once had either of us walked away until everything was resolved since we got back together. Which usually meant Coen still had to pin me to a hard place when we argued, but in the end, I was thankful for it.
Parker had been beyond excited the night of my birthday when we’d shown up to get him, and hadn’t let Coen out of his sight except to sleep and go to school for the next week. Even though he didn’t care about the
whys
of Coen’s disappearance, Coen had still sat him down and apologized to him while trying to explain all that Parker really needed to know. That Coen had made a mistake, he was back, and he was never leaving again. Three months later, Parker called Coen ‘Dad’ for the first time as he was falling asleep—and Coen had sat on the end of Parker’s bed for ten minutes, fighting back tears.
Keegan made fun of him for that constantly, but it was one of the most beautiful moments I’d ever witnessed between the two of them.
We already had the paperwork ready, and after the wedding, Parker and I were changing our last name to Steele, and Coen was officially adopting him. Something Parker told anyone who gave him two minutes of their time.
When we got to the front, my dad kissed my cheek and handed me off to Coen.
A slow smile pulled at my lips as I stepped up to him, and I studied his dark eyes as they gave away all I needed to know. He was ready for our forever.
“We’re—” the pastor began.
“Dad!” Parker whispered.
Coen grinned and looked behind him. “Yeah, bud?”
Everyone sitting in the church began laughing as Parker stepped closer and stood on his toes. “Tell Mom she looks pretty.”
“Got it.” Looking back at me, Coen’s dark eyes brightened as his gaze bounced over my face. “You look beautiful,” he said breathlessly.
I squeezed his hand. “Not so bad yourself, Steele.”
“You can get married now,” Parker declared, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
Reaching behind him, Coen put his hand on Parker’s back and moved him so he was standing between us. Grabbing his right hand, Coen watched until I grabbed Parker’s left hand before looking back over at the pastor.
“Now we’re ready.”
The End
For a look at the pictures from the canvases in the studio, go to:
www.mollysmcadams.com/capturing-peace-photos
Keep reading for an early peek at Molly McAdams’s next book
The story of Coen’s friend Brody.
Kamryn—Sept. 2, 2014
T
HE SOUND OF
three familiar, masculine laughs stopped my retreat to my room and I quietly tiptoed back toward the study.
What are Charles and his dad doing here?
I peeked through the door they had left cracked and was thankful for the darkened hallway. I knew from experience they wouldn’t see me unless they were actively searching, and since all of them were huddled around a far table with drinks in their hands, I figured I was fine.
I pulled my cell out of my pocket and glanced at the time before dimming the screen again. Charles wasn’t supposed to pick me up for another four hours, and we’d
just
had brunch with his family. Couldn’t he go away for a while?
Charles. Good God what had he even changed into? He had brown loafers—no socks—khaki shorts, and a dark pink polo on. And, yeah, the collar was popped. His dark blond hair had that I-just-got-out-of-bed look, but I’d had the unfortunate pleasure of watching him spend twenty-five minutes to make it look that way this morning, so it lost its appeal.
I’d been dating Charles York since our junior year of high school, and it was safe to say that over the last six years, I’d really come to loathe him. His clothes, his too-perfect bleached smile, his fake tan, his laugh that had to be louder than everyone else’s in the room, the fact that he was the
third
Charles York, his signature silver BMW that he upgraded for a new one every two years like it was a cell phone or something. And this was probably worst of all: that he was so close with my dad that he was having drinks with him on his own time.
I’m sure most girls dreamt of a man who their parents would absolutely adore, but my parents hadn’t exactly given me a choice when it came to Charles. I had to date him. It was a match made in “Kentucky Derby Heaven,” as my mother liked to say. And, no, I’m not joking. Both our families were from the Brighton Country Club neighborhood in Lexington, and every year for the last fifteen years, either Charles’s or my family had had a horse win the Kentucky Derby. Our parents were always talking about combining our stables, and I was beginning to think I’d already been sold off to the York family to make this happen.
Why not just break up with him and tell my parents to shove it? Uh, yeah . . . not so easy in my family. I was a Cunningham; in the racing world, we were pretty much royalty. My parents were Bruce and Charlotte, and as the only daughter of the perfect power couple, I was expected to be perfect as well. Perfect hair, perfect clothes, and a perfectly planned life.
The only thing I’d ever done for myself was go to culinary and then pastry school; and it’d been a huge to-do in our house. The only people who had supported me were our maid, Barbara, and surprisingly, Charles. I’d been so taken aback and grateful—since he’d gotten my parents to finally agree to it—that it’d been the only time I’d ever called him by his preferred name, ‘Chad.’ He hated the name ‘Charles,’ and I think that is why I refused to call him anything else.
Charles said my name and I leaned closer to the door in time to catch whatever his dad was saying.
“You’re sure she’ll say yes? I don’t know what’s going on with that girl of yours, Bruce, but she’s seemed rather . . . hesitant lately.”
Say yes to what?
“I’m sure of it, she knows her place. She knows how important this merger is.”
“I don’t know—” Chuck, Charles’s father, began.
“Dad, stop. She’ll marry me. Like Bruce said, she knows her place; and thank God for that. The sooner she gets off this pipe dream of owning a bakery, the better.”
Dad’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s surprising, seeing as you’re the only one who encouraged Kamryn to go to those food schools.”
Charles laughed and took a sip of his drink. “No offense to your home and wife, Bruce, but I want a wife who knows her place in my home as well as by my side.”
Chuck and Dad both chuckled. I continued to stand there with my jaw on the floor.
“Charlotte’s great for business and public outings,” Charles continued “—don’t get me wrong—but that woman couldn’t cook if her life depended on—”
Dad cut him off. “Which, of course, means Kamryn couldn’t cook before she went to those schools.”
With the hand holding his scotch glass, Charles pointed at Dad. “Precisely.”
“Smart kid you’ve got there, Chuck.” Dad laughed into his glass before taking another sip. “Damn smart kid.”
“So you
aren’t
letting her open up the bakery? Your mother and I have been worried about your judgment in letting her do this.”
“Hell no,” Charles laughed. “There’s a reason I haven’t let her open one yet, I’m just trying to keep her happy until we’re married.”
“And you’ll be proposing tonight?”
My eyes about popped out of my head at my dad’s question.
“Yup, gonna push for that whole ‘we’ve been together forever, there’s no point in having a long engagement’ thing. My guess, end of the year, we’ll be married and our families can stop dicking around with this merger.”
“Sounds good,” Dad said, and the men stood up to shake hands across the table.
I made sure to keep quiet as I quickly backed away from the door and took off for my room. Get married to him? Oh, hell no. I may have stayed with him to keep Mom and Dad happy and off my back for the last six years, but no way in hell was I going into a lifelong commitment with him. And I couldn’t believe he would encourage me to go to those schools just so he’d have a wife from the fucking fifties!
“Cook for you?” I hissed as I shut my bedroom door and hurried to the closet. “I’ll cook for you.” Grabbing a small suitcase, I threw it onto the bed and opened it up. “With rat poison.”
I buzzed Barbara before grabbing only my favorite clothes and shoes and tossing everything in there. I was throwing the necessities from my bathroom in a small bag when I heard Barb’s voice in my room.
“What can I do for ya, baby girl . . . Kam, honey?”
“Barb!” I apparently still hadn’t graduated from hissing. “He’s proposing!”
Her eyes were wide as she looked at the too-full suitcase. “I thought we were already expecting that.”
“Tonight! And he just told Dad that we would be married by the end of the year, that’s barely four months away!”
“Oh, my sweet girl.” She smiled sadly and sat on my bed. “I knew this day was coming, but I’m not ready for it yet.”
“Me neither, but Barbara, I can’t—I can’t keep doing this. Six years with him, and twenty-two years of not being able to live. I
have
to go.”
“I know.”
“It was one thing to continue dating him while he was away at school and I was trying to save money for this, but it’s an entirely different thing to be engaged to him. And you know Mom and Dad won’t let me say no!”
“I know,” she said again, and there were tears falling down her plump cheeks.
“Barb, don’t cry, please don’t cry!” God, now I was going to start crying. She’d been our maid since before I was born, she’d taken care of me growing up and she was the reason I’d wanted to go to culinary school. She was also the reason all of this was about to be possible.
Dad refused to pay for the schools, not like I expected him to or would have allowed it, but I’d gotten loans and simultaneously started asking Barb for her help. There was no way for Barb or me to bet on the races without word getting out that we were doing so, and Dad would flip if he knew. I didn’t want to use his money for anything, so I’d sold a few things Mom would never notice were missing from my room, and used that money for Barb’s brother to start placing bets for me. All the bets started off small, since I hadn’t sold anything of much value, and over the last four years they’d multiplied like you wouldn’t believe.
I’d paid off the loans before replacing what I’d originally sold from my room first, and then continued to place higher and higher bets. The last race I’d bet on, and won, I’d put down close to six figures. You get the right races, and the right pockets with horses competing; you can make a fortune. And I had.
Barbara and I had spent many nights planning this day, but like she’d said, we weren’t expecting it to happen just yet.
“I’m sorry,” she said and wiped away some tears. “I’m happy for you, baby girl, really I am. I’m just gonna miss you so much.”
“I’ll miss you too.” I hugged her fiercely and let a few tears escape as she held me. She would be the only person from this entire state I would miss. “As soon as I get to Oregon and get settled, I’ll get a phone and call you so you’ll have my number.”
She nodded and cleared her throat as her arms left my waist to grip my hands. “You can do this, Kamryn. I just know it. You have the money, you have the smarts, you have the talent, and you have the drive. Get away from here, baby girl, and don’t come back to this life. This life is its own form of prison.”
It was. God it was.
“Do you have everything packed?”
“I do.”
“All right.” She cleared her throat and her lips quivered as she spoke, “I’m going to call my brother and have him come right over to take you to the train station. I’d just pulled some cookies out of the oven. You go take some and a glass of milk to your daddy. Your mother is at her tennis lesson and then going to a massage, so she won’t be back for some time now. By the time you’re done sweet-talking your daddy, Ray will be here and I’ll have your suitcase and money waiting in his car.”
I took a deep breath and stood when she did. “I’ll miss you, Barbara, I love you.”
“I love you too, baby girl. Go live.”
