Page 26

Inappropriate Page 26

by Vi Keeland


Ireland practically knocked me over wrapping her arms and body around me. “Yes! Yes! I will. And the ring is beautiful. I don’t need anything else. And I don’t need a year. All I need is you.”

Chapter 37

* * *

Grant

I sat on the back deck of Leilani by myself. The bay was eerily quiet this afternoon, which seemed fitting right about now. I felt the same strange calm as the water, even though I’d expected to feel just the opposite on this day. Saying goodbye to this boat was so much more than leaving a place I’d lived for years. Though she wasn’t going anywhere—not as long as Pops still wanted to visit her. But it was time for me to move on. Time to stop starting and ending my day with the memories that would forever haunt me, and time to start making new ones—ones filled with happiness. There was just one more thing I needed to do.

I took a deep breath and picked up the pen and paper I’d left out when I packed the last of my things. A sealed envelope sat on the bench seat next to me, one of thousands I’d received and thrown out over the years. But today when my daily letter arrived, I tucked it into my pocket rather than tossing it into the trash. I didn’t intend to read it, but I needed the return address today.

More than three thousand of these envelopes had to have come and gone since I first met Lily at fourteen. I’d had the power to stop them at any time—yet I never did—and now I wasn’t sure why. Maybe I wanted the daily reminder as part of my punishment. Maybe I wanted Lily to have the same daily reminder of what she’d done every time she picked up a pen. Maybe I was just so fucked in the head, I was afraid I wouldn’t think about my daughter without that daily letter. I don’t know. But whatever the reason, today was the day it came to an end.

I looked around one last time, imagining Lily standing on the deck that night. I had seen that image in my mind a thousand times before. Squeezing my eyes tight, I swallowed back the taste of salt in my throat before finally lifting the pen to the paper.

Lily,

I don’t know how to forgive you.

Maybe by now I should have found God or something—found some way to accept what you’ve done and make peace with the idea that it wasn’t your fault. But I haven’t. That’s not what this letter is about.

I need to tell you I’m sorry.

I’m sorry I fell asleep that night.

I’m sorry I didn’t see the depth of what you were going through and take Leilani far away.

I’m sorry I put what you needed above what our little girl needed.

I’m sorry I didn’t see it coming.

I’m sorry I didn’t protect our little girl.

I fucked up. I fucked up, Lily.

I’ve spent the last seven years avoiding anyone I might love. Because I thought when you fall in love, you become blind to that person’s flaws and only see what you want to. I was afraid of not seeing who someone is again. I thought I could control who I loved.

Until Ireland.

Ireland made me realize we don’t have a choice who we fall in love with. We fall in love by chance. But staying in love and making it work isn’t something that happens by chance—that’s a choice. And I’ve chosen to love Ireland.

Because of that, I’m writing today to tell you I’ve fallen in love with someone else and to ask you to stop writing. Who knows, maybe it will help you move on, too.

I wish I could tell you I found a way to forgive you. But I haven’t yet. Maybe someday that will happen. It’s not something I can force. I have a long way to go and a lot of healing to do, but I’ve decided that forgiving myself might be the best place to start. So while I’m not able to fully open my heart and grant you forgiveness, I’m asking you to forgive me. I need to move on. I want to stop hating myself and work toward finding peace. That starts with us.

Please forgive me. Someday I hope to return the gift of forgiveness.

No more letters.

Goodbye, Lily.

Grant

Epilogue

* * *

Ireland - 15 months later

“I still can’t believe you did all this.” I looked out the window and watched a team of people stringing lights from palm trees and laying a wooden dance floor over the sand. Grant came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. He kissed my bare shoulder.

“You don’t make it easy to surprise you.”

Grant and I had gotten married when I was five months pregnant. A big party wasn’t important to either of us, and I didn’t want to walk down the aisle with a giant bump. So we’d gone down to City Hall and quietly made it official. But he’d always felt guilty that we didn’t have a big celebration, so for our one-year wedding anniversary, Grant surprised me with a trip to the Caribbean to renew our vows. I had no idea when I walked into the hotel that he’d flown all of our friends and family down, too.

And now a staff of twenty was busy preparing for a sunset vow renewal in a setting I’d once described to him as my ideal wedding: palm trees lit with tea lights on the beach at sunset. He’d even arranged for Mia and me to go to a wedding shop on the island and pick out dresses when we’d arrived two days ago. Which wasn’t easy, considering Mia was six months pregnant herself now.

I turned in my husband’s arms and wrapped my hands around his neck. “This is amazing. Thank you for doing all this. I still can’t get over how you pulled it off without my knowing.”

He rubbed my bottom lip with his thumb. “Anything for this smile. Plus, I had an ulterior motive. Since Mia is right next door, she’s going to keep Logan for us tonight. I haven’t had you all to myself in a long time.”

“It always comes back to sex with you, doesn’t it?” I teased.

“I’m still making up for lost time, sweetheart.”

When I was seven months pregnant with Logan, I went into premature labor. The doctors were able to stop it, but they put me on bed rest and restricted all sexual activity. That meant we had gone the two months before delivery and six weeks after delivery without sex. Grant wasn’t kidding when he said he was still trying to make up for the lost time—we’d been like horny teenagers the last few months. Which was why I had a surprise for him today, too.

“I have something to show you,” I said.

Grant flashed a wicked grin and squeezed my ass. “I have something to show you, too.”

I chuckled. “I’m being serious.”

My husband took my hand and slid it from around his neck down over a steely erection, guiding my fingers to grip. “I’m serious, too.”

I’d picked up a pregnancy test while Mia and I were out shopping on the island yesterday and saved the stick to surprise Grant. He was an amazing father to our son, Logan, but I was still a little nervous to tell him because of the reaction he’d had the first time I’d gotten pregnant. It was silly, I knew that, especially since we’d agreed to not use birth control and spent a lot of time practicing making a baby. But nonetheless, I wanted to get it off my chest.

“Sit for a minute. I’ll be right back.”

Grant pouted, but released me so I could go to the bathroom. I’d hidden the test in my makeup case under the sink in the plastic bag it had come in. Tucking it into my shorts pocket, I walked back to the bedroom and found Grant taking off his T-shirt. My heart squeezed seeing the tattoo he’d gotten inked onto his chest a few days before our wedding last year.

I brushed my finger across it. Grant had gotten the printout of Logan’s first heartbeat, the one the doctor had handed him during our very first sonogram, tattooed onto his chest, along with the words from the sign that hung above my bed: No rain. No flowers.

I kissed the tattoo. “I love this today as much as the day you got it. But something is off. I think you’re going to need to go back and add a little ink to fix it.”

Grant’s brows drew together as he looked down at his chest. He pulled at the skin to get a better look. “What’s wrong with it?”

I took the stick from my pocket. “It only has one baby’s heart
beat.”

Grant’s forehead wrinkled and his eyes quickly went wide. “You’re…”

I nodded. “Pregnant again.”

Grant shut his eyes, and for a few long seconds, I held my breath. When he opened them, it only took one look to see the joy in his eyes.

He smiled. “You’re pregnant. My wife is pregnant again.”

I smiled. “Yeah. I guess that’s what happens when your husband is insatiable.”

Grant lifted me off my feet and swung me around. “I love you pregnant. I love your big belly. And your big tits. I even love shaving your legs for you when you can’t bend down anymore. You gave me life again, Ireland, and you being pregnant is proof of that.”

“That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. Well, minus the tits comment.”

Grant smiled. “Good. Because it’s the truth. Now get your pregnant ass on the bed so I can give you my gift.”

***

We renewed our vows barefoot in front of all of our friends and family at sunset. Pops stood by Grant’s side as his best man, and Mia stood next to me with one hand holding her growing belly. Leo, who now lived with us, held our son in his arms in the first row. He’d moved in four months ago when his aunt had suffered a stroke that left her unable to care for him. The court granted us temporary custody, but if we had anything to do with it, he’d be with us forever.

Toward the end of the ceremony, the pastor officiating said, “At this time, the groom would like to give his wife a new ring, as a sign of his love and commitment.”

I leaned to Grant. “I thought we weren’t exchanging new rings.”

He winked. “We aren’t. I don’t need two. But I wanted you to have something to remember today.”

Grant turned to Pops and whispered. “Psst. Pops…in your pocket.”

Pops’s face wrinkled up. He seemed to be having a moment. That had happened more and more frequently over the last few months.

Grant whispered again. “You have the box in your pocket.”

Still confused, Pops scanned his surroundings. Our friends and family in the audience were all watching and waiting. Turning back, he looked at me holding hands with Grant and smiled. “Hey, Charlize.”

I smiled back. “Hi, Pops. How you doing?”

Grant chuckled. “Always distracted by the pretty girls. The box is in the left side of your suit jacket, Pops. Can I have it?”

“Box?”

“Yeah, in your suit jacket.”

“Oh, you want the…” Pops snapped his fingers. “Damn it…what is it called again…” Snap. Snap. “You want the…” Snap. Snap. “You want your balls!”

Everyone started to laugh, including both of us. Grant walked over and slipped his hand into his grandfather’s suit pocket, pulling out a black box.

“Nah. She can keep my balls, Pops. She’s had them since the first day we met. I just want the ring.”

The End

Dear Readers,

I hope you’ve enjoyed reading Grant and Ireland’s story! I’d love to stay in touch and invite you to join my mailing list and receive back a FREE fun short story or a peek at one of my favorite books, Egomaniac! Sign up now, and pick up one or both of these:

Dry Spell is a short story—a fun, twenty-minute beach, bath, or bedtime read.

Egomaniac – A peak at the first five chapters!

Click to sign up now.

Acknowledgements

* * *

To you—the readers. Thank you for allowing me to be a part of your hearts and homes. Life seems to move so fast these days, and I am so grateful to be with you at those moments when you relax and pick up a book to escape. I hope you’ve enjoyed Grant and Ireland’s tangled story and you’ll come back in the summer to see who you might meet next!

To Penelope – 2019 was full of twists and turns. I’m glad you’re the Thelma to my Louise for this crazy ride.

To Cheri –This year was one to remind us both how precious time is, and it means that much more to me that you step away from your family to join me on our crazy trips! Books brought us together, but friendship made us forever.

To Julie – Thank you for your friendship and wisdom.

To Luna – No rain. No flowers. 2020 is your year to blossom and I can’t wait to watch it.

To my spectacular Facebook reader group, Vi’s Violets – Every morning I wake up and have my coffee with you. You start my day, encourage me when things get tough, and celebrate my successes. I’ve said it before, but as each year passes, it only holds truer: This group is a gift. Thank you for being part of it.

To Sommer – I don’t know how you do it every time. Thank you for yet another amazing cover.

To my agent and friend, Kimberly Brower – Thank you for never accepting good enough. You always go above and beyond what is expected. I can’t wait to see what unique things you find each and every year!

To Jessica, Elaine, and Eda – Thank you for being the dream team of editing! You smooth out the all the rough edges and make me shine!

To all of the bloggers – Thank you for inspiring others to take a chance on me. Without you, there would be no them.

Much love

Vi

Other Books by Vi Keeland

* * *

Standalone novels

WE SHOULDN’T

New York Times, USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller

EGOMANIAC

New York Times, USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller

BOSSMAN

#1 New York Times, #1 Wall Street Journal and USA TODAY Bestseller

ALL GROWN UP

USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller

THE NAKED TRUTH

New York Times, USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller

SEX, NOT LOVE

New York Times, USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller

BEAUTIFUL MISTAKE

New York Times, USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller

THE BALLER

New York Times, USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller

Life on Stage series (2 standalone books)

BEAT

USA TODAY Bestseller

THROB

USA TODAY Bestseller

MMA Fighter series (3 standalone books)

WORTH THE FIGHT

New York Times and USA TODAY Bestseller

WORTH THE CHANCE

USA TODAY Bestseller

WORTH FORGIVING

USA TODAY Bestseller

The Cole Series (2 book serial)

BELONG TO YOU

USA TODAY Bestseller

MADE FOR YOU

USA TODAY Bestseller

YA/NA novel

LEFT BEHIND

DIRTY LETTERS (CO-WRITTEN WITH PENELOPE WARD)

HATE NOTES (CO-WRITTEN WITH PENELOPE WARD)

#1 Amazon Bestseller and Wall Street Journal Bestseller

REBEL HEIR (CO-WRITTEN WITH PENELOPE WARD)

New York Times, USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller

REBEL HEART (CO-WRITTEN WITH PENELOPE WARD)

New York Times, USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller

PARK AVENUE PLAYER (CO-WRITTEN WITH PENELOPE WARD)

BRITISH BEDMATE (CO-WRITTEN WITH PENELOPE WARD)

New York Times, USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller

MISTER MONEYBAGS (CO-WRITTEN WITH PENELOPE WARD)

New York Times, USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller

PLAYBOY PILOT (CO-WRITTEN WITH PENELOPE WARD)

New York Times and USA TODAY Bestseller

STUCK-UP SUIT (CO-WRITTEN WITH PENELOPE WARD)

New York Times, USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal Bestseller

COCKY BASTARD (CO-WRITTEN WITH PENELOPE WARD)

New York Times and USA TODAY Bestseller

About the Author

* * *

Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times, #1 Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bests
elling author. With millions of books sold, her titles have appeared in over a hundred Bestseller lists and are currently translated in twenty-five languages. She resides in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.