Doves for Sale Page 15

  I’m done for. She’s mad, but there’s no way I can defend myself against her raging storm. “I spent all my money on us. You’re worth all the houses in the world and more. I bought it for you. I bought it for us. It’s where I fell in love with you. It’s the place where I asked you to marry me. It’s the place where I saw you across the room and knew that if I died right at that moment, I would die a happy man. That house holds your heart and you hold mine. Is that what this is all about? You don’t think you’re worth it?”

  Her streaming tears tell me everything I need to know.

  “You could’ve told me.”

  “You could’ve not yelled about it. We’re even.”

  “We are not even by a long shot, Ezra Mason.”

  “How is that?”

  “How will I ever be able to do something as amazing as this for you? You’ve ruined a lifetime of gifts. Seriously, what Christmas present is going to live up to this? Nothing.”

  I shrug. I don’t think about the words coming out of my mouth. They just do. “You could marry me on Christmas Day. That way, you’d never be alone on Christmas again. You’d never have to give yourself a present or string up lights alone. Christmas would belong to us.”

  Her legs give out on her, but I catch her just in time.

  “It’s too much. You’re too much.”

  “Nah.” I brush that hair out of her face. “Most days I still feel like I’m not enough.”

  “Ezra, you’re always going to be more than enough for me. But you need to make things right with Roman. I won’t be the ruin of another one of your friendships. Go find him.”

  “I’ll find him later. I’m pretty sure he’s nursing his wounds. The side effect of all of this is that maybe he’ll finally get the hint.”

  “I think that’s a pretty big hint.”

  Epilogue

  Ezra

  She makes her own Christmas merry.

  She doesn’t have to do that anymore.

  Now if she’ll just stop arguing with me.

  “I don’t have time, Ezra. I have to go home, figure out what I’m wearing to the interview.”

  She got a job working at City Hall, but her eyes are on bigger things.

  “It will take you ten minutes. If these spare keys don’t work, I have to have them remade.”

  She’s so aggravating.

  “Fine.”

  It’s already past nine at night. She spent the afternoon with Ariel but they came to an impasse with deciding her outfit for the interview.

  They are still a work in progress.

  I’ve been setting this all up for weeks.

  I sit on the porch and wait for her.

  “Okay, let’s try these keys.”

  “Hi Ezra! I’m so excited to try the keys to my dream house that you bought for me.” I mock her foul attitude.

  “I’m sorry. Ariel gets on my nerves.”

  She sits beside me on the porch and leans against my chest while my arm goes around her.

  “Where’s the keys?”

  “Right here in my pocket.” I point to my shirt pocket but don’t make a move to retrieve them. She reaches over and takes something else out of my pocket.

  “What’s this?”

  The twinkly lights come on, right on time and she beams. There’s something about Aysa and Christmas lights that just goes together.

  They were made to shine together.

  “Open it.”

  She does and looks at me almost the way she did when she found out I bought the house.

  “Ezra…”

  “Aysa, what you and I have is beyond love. I won’t live without you and I need you to be my wife. It’s so much more than want. I need to be your husband. I need to be tied to you forever. After this, I swear you can give me all the gifts.”

  She scoffs. “What’s left after a house and this ring and your love?”

  “Your heart. Your happiness. Your love. Pick one. They’re all worth way more than this house or that ring.”

  Her chin quivers as I ask her. “Marry me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Read the engraving.”

  She holds it up to the light and that’s when the tears begin to flow.

  We met in a church, but she’s my religion.

  She doesn’t hide anymore, but I’ll keep her safe.

  “What does it say?” I ask. I have to hear her say the words.

  She finagles herself into my lap and curls her arms around my neck, whispering in my ear.

  “I pray for your love.”

  Ravens For Rent

  The story of Roman, a novella

  Coming Soon

  Other works by Lila Felix:

  The love and Skate Series:

  Love and Skate

  How It rolls

  Down n derby

  Caught in a jam

  False start

  The Second jam (a love and skate spin-off novel)

  Bayou bear chronicles:

  Burden

  Hearten

  ENGRAVEN (Spring 2015)

  Forced autonomy (a dystopian novella serial)

  Until she walked in

  Heartbreaker

  Dethroning crown

  Seeking havok

  Emerge

  Perchance

  hoax

  Lila’s Antics:

  www.lilafelix.com

  www.authorlilafelix.blogspot.com

  www.facebook.com/authorlilafelix

  twitter: @authorlilafelix

  email: authorlilafelix@gmail.com

  Acknowledgements:

  To Mr. Felix: The word love will never cover it.

  My soul is tethered to yours.

  Rebecca Ethington, even puzzle pieces have friends and thank you for being mine.

  THE RINK RATS:

  None of this would be possible without your support and love.

  #RR4LIFE

  To all the bloggers who back my books and help me along.

  You are valued and adored by me.

  An Excerpt of His for One Night

  Trish Leger

  Chapter 1

  Erin Lancaster tried not to stare, but for Christ’s sake, she never been this much in awe before.

  Every inch of the old opera house dripped vintage elegance. Like a grand dame awakening from a nap, her every surface sparkled, gaslights flickered; draperies rippled like sensual opulence in the dim lighting.

  Erin took a deep, shuddering breath as she tried not to glance to her left. Where HE sat. Her deliverance from poverty. Her own version of hell in the middle of this beautiful night. Hell, because she needed him. And he didn’t even know it.

  Talk about a wake up call.

  Her eyes stole a glance at the man beside her. The traitorous muscle that was her heart responded. Licking her lips, she studied his tall, robust frame against this outdated setting. For some reason he seemed to fit in just fine, must be the years upon years of arrogance and haughtiness ingrained in every molecule of his body. He belonged here. She didn’t.

  He not only fit in, he exuded the air of self-importance that his ancestors had passed down to him, acknowledging that he had every right to be here.

  Erin scoffed below her breath. She wasn’t here to berate this man’s obvious wealth, especially since she would be getting her hands on a bit of it when the night was over.

  “Is everything to your liking?”

  Hell, his voice was as hypnotic as his magnetism. And did it even matter if she liked anything at this point?

  “It’s all so beautiful.” She winced as her accent edged out into the refined air of this incredible place.

  A small smile, a tipping of his lips really, caught her eyes. Feeling stupid for staring, she turned her gaze out, encompassing the beautiful people that were also coming in under the cover of semi-darkness.

  She tried not to focus on the deeply enticing hue of his blue eyes that reflected from the gaslights. She tried not to think about the reddish highlig
hts that burned in his dark hair, or the hint of unearthliness that clung to his skin. He was everything she’d ever dreamed of in a man. Mike had been stupid to sign her up for this, no matter how badly she needed the money.

  Wasn’t that always the case?

  Where was her break? Where was her windfall?

  She’d always been the good girl. She’d done everything possible to take care of her ailing mother, quitting college, taking on three jobs, but none of it had made a difference. Erin was still paying deductibles and other monthly payments on things like MRI’s, etc.

  Erin shook her head slightly. She had done everything humanly possible. Her future was beyond her hands now. After her mother passed, she’d signed back up for college, and had gotten a break with financing, but living decently was altogether a different matter.

  That’s where her friend, Mike, came into the picture. A few months back, after a long conversation over cheap pizza and beer, she’d spilled her guts, opening up about her fear of the future.

  “I can’t keep doing this, Mike. I’m floundering in my studies, even though I’m almost finished, and drowning in debt. This neverending lack of money isn’t cutting it.”

  “Stay positive, sweetheart, things will get better, you wait and see. Once you get that degree and finish….” Mike shrugged, “The sky has no limit for someone like you.”

  “Dear God, Mike, all I need is some bread to mop up that sugary sweet shit you are spouting.” Erin finished that remark off with a wink, softening the smartass barb.

  Mike smiled, “You are going to be a great professor, and you know it.”

  “Not if I can’t pay this month’s bills, there won’t be much celebrating when I get that long-awaited diploma.” Erin shrugged, hating everything that had happened in the past year. It was beginning to catch up with her and she could feel the oppression of poverty, of clinging to the last few dollars she had, weighing down on her. She looked down at her cheese oozing slice of pizza; Mike had even paid for that.

  “What if I told you I knew a way you could make some extra money?”

  Erin froze him with a glance. He was the closest friend she’d had during her early years at college, and he’d steadfastly stayed around during her mother’s illness and death. With his easy-going attitude and low-key personality, he would make a great doctor one day. And he was an attractive man, one that she’d always felt safe with, but she didn’t know whether to laugh at his statement or slap his face. Cocking her head, she sent him a hard glare. “Just what are you signing me up for?”

  He held his hands up before him. “Not what you are thinking, not that!”

  “Well then, what exactly are you proposing?”

  He licked his fingers, took a sip of his drink, then said, “Escort services.”

  The air in Erin’s lungs evaporated and all she could think of were high priced call girls waiting on overbearing, rich men at their beck and call. “Absolutely not.” There was no way in hell that she was going to sell her body to some older guy who was stuck in a middle-aged rut. She would never sink that low.

  “They don’t get paid for sex, Erin. At least the girls I know don’t. There is a protected clause worked in the paperwork that keeps freaks from taking advantage.”

  She gave him a look that could have fried leather.

  He showed her what she knew to be his most sincere look. “I’m serious, honey. No sex. Just money that you need desperately.”

  Erin zoned back to the here and now. She silently shook her head. An escort, something she never even imagined she would be in a million years. Her mother had been gone awhile now but Erin could sense the disgust she would have shown her only child.

  I know mom, but I had no other choice.

  In the months since graduating, she’d practically killed herself to get to a somewhat ‘normal’ place in her life. Working two full-time jobs while doing scant interviews had broken her down to almost the same woman she’d been before graduating. The breaking point came in the form of the daytime job (one of many) she had as an assistant to the CEO of an investment broker. Apparently, Ponzi schemes were as unacceptable as the unknowing assistants of those committing them were.

  The hum of activity and tuning of musical instruments snapped her into the present. Erin turned in the direction of the gorgeous man who’d paid for her ‘company’ tonight.

  Yep, hell had officially froze over.

  She knew this man, those blue eyes, and that regal profile-as did any woman under the age of ninety with blood running in her veins. He and his family were the tip of the proverbial ‘social’ iceberg in New York City. She had no idea why he’d deigned to slum it with an escort tonight, because she knew that he always had choice pick of any woman out there. Was it her place to wrack her brain over it? Nope. She would do exactly what the owners of the escort service instructed. Smile, exchange polite conversation with him, and then go home with a good deal of cash from the coffers of the Manzini family.

  It didn’t matter that he was opposite from everything she’d expected tonight.

  His smile was charming, his manners were impeccable, forcing Erin constantly to remind herself how low on the totem pole she was compared to this man. If she doubted that, she only had to look at this night’s activities: first the opera, and now, on their way to the city’s most prestigious restaurant.

  She was in way over her head.

  An excerpt of Yours Always by Rhonda Dennis

  Chapter One

  “Thank you for calling Pole Co. My name is Savannah. Are you calling to report a power outage or an emergency situation?”

  “Who’s this?” a frail geriatric voice calls through the speaker of my headset.

  “You’ve reached the Power of Louisiana Electric Company’s customer assistance line—Pole Co. Are you having issues with your power, sir?”

  “No. Can’t say that I am,” the shaky voice answers. “Maebelle! Are we having issues with our power?” He yells so loudly that I want to bat the headphones off of my ears.

  “You’re supposed to be calling the water company, Stanley. Why are you bugging the nice people at Pole Co. when our problem is a water leak?” I hear a click on the line and then another geriatric voice, female this time, begins to speak to me. “Hello? Yes, Pole Co.? I’m sorry to have wasted your time. I used to be able to trust Stanley with these things, but his mind’s gone to crap since he started on the new meds. He can’t seem to keep anything straight anymore.”

  “I’m still on the line,” a disgruntled Stanley mumbles.

  “Hang up the phone, Stanley,” Maebelle demands.

  “You can’t tell me what to do. I’m still the man of this house.”

  “Save the ‘I’m the man’ crap for when you’re capable of wiping your own ass.”

  “Woman! Don’t you make me get out of this chair!”

  “Are you married?” Maebelle asks me, and I stumble over my words.

  “Uh… No, ma’am. I’m not. Is there anything power related that I can help you with today?” I inquire while frantically searching for a way out of the conversation.

  “We’ve been married for sixty-eight years. You know what I’ve learned in those sixty-eight years?” Maebelle questions. I hear Stanley’s heavy breathing over the other connection.

  “Ma’am?” I’m uncertain I want to hear the answer.

  “Marriage sucks,” she answers matter-of-factly. “Men want you to be their mommas, their nurses, their chefs, their secretaries, their housekeepers, and a host of other things that make their lives all nice and comfy…”

  “Thank you for the advice, ma’am,” I interrupt, desperate to take another call—any call.

  “Now don’t be in such a hurry. Take a second to listen to me, young lady. There’s something that sucks worse than marriage,” Maebelle asserts. Stanley is still huffing into the phone. Lizzy, my one and only friend, sits in the cubicle across from me pretending to blow her brains out with her thumb and forefinger. I point to my headset
while nodding and mouthing the words, “Me, too.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Something worse than marriage. Are you sure you have no power issues that you’d like to report?”

  “I understand that you big city folks are all busy and don’t have much time to waste on us old people, so I’ll let you go shortly. Just listen to this one thing I’m gonna tell ya.”

  It’s been a write up free couple of months, and I need my record to remain intact if I want a chance at the fifty dollar gift card the company will draw for at the end of the quarter. It’s time for me to do some damage control before she calls in a complaint. “Ma’am, I’m very sorry if it came across as though I’m not interested in what you have to say. My intention was to assure that there were no life-threatening issues that needed to be immediately addressed.” Lizzy, who has finally disconnected from her call, shoots me two thumbs up for the excellent recovery. She pulls the wire that connects her earpiece to her desk then still sitting in her chair, she rolls over to my cubicle to plug into my extra port so she can hear both sides of the conversation.

  “Well, isn’t that nice of you. Isn’t that nice of her, Stanley? She wanted to make sure we were safe.”

  “Who are we talking to, Maebelle? Is it Jonut?”

  “No, Stanley. It’s not Jonut. You go ahead and hang up now okay?” Maebelle insists.

  “Tell Jonut I love her when you talk to her,” Stanley says before clicking off of the line.

  Maebelle resumes our conversation. “Jonut is a nickname we have for our daughter, Josephine. We don’t see her much, and sometimes Stanley gets confused. Anyway, as I was saying, marriage sucks. It sucks the life and soul out of you. There are days I want to kill him, and there are days I want to torture him before I kill him.” Lizzy is working so hard at containing her laughter that she almost falls out of her chair. “There are days I wish he’d never been born. There are days I wish I’d never been born. But, listen to this carefully. They are just thoughts. Random fleeting thoughts that cross my mind when I’m upset about accidentally burning supper. Did he make me burn supper? No, he didn’t, but I heaped that blame on him. Or when I forgot about a load of his underpants in the washer and they soured. He bore the brunt of that blame, too. What about the abuse he got when I gave birth to our child? Twelve hours of non-stop name calling during labor, and that man took every last bit of it and fed me words of love and encouragement to boot!”