Eversea: Forever, Jack Part 25

Sliding her hands through my hair, a light sc.r.a.pe that sends a shiver racing over my skin, she pulls my head against her.

Breathing her scent in, I wait to see if she has anything more to say and feel her curve her head down to rest on mine.

"My heart hurts for that little boy. He must have been so scared that night, but he was so brave. I can't believe he got away and ran. Then to be chased ... by his father, by a person children are supposed to love and trust, and know that if he got caught ..." her voice breaks. Yes, all the untold horrors that boy might have looked forward to, what he'd even woken up to that night ... that he'd never see his mother again might have been the least concerning. Keri Ann's chest heaves with emotion and anguish beneath my cheek, and I squeeze my arms tight and hold her.

"I was scared," I say finally when she calms. "I was terrified, and I made it. I survived him."

"And you made me cry for him, too. I almost didn't want him to end his life, but I felt his relief. Oh, G.o.d. It's brilliant. I hated it. It's the darkest story I've ever read. And so much more painful because it's you." She reaches for a tissue from the box she placed on my desk.

I loosen my arms and tilt my head up to look at her beautiful face filled with such torment. A tight knot around my heart loosens slightly. I've been terrified to let her read the script I wrote, even letting Devon read it first.

Production on The Missing Earl begins in eleven weeks.

In England.

Devon says he's never fast tracked something that quickly in his life.

"But are you sure about this? Playing the part of your own father? And telling the world who you are?"

It was Devon's idea, and when he first suggested it, I balked. I was shocked and horrified, and truly didn't think I had it in me. The more I thought about it though, I realized, it could only be me. And really it will be the hardest role I've ever played, that anyone could ever play. But I know I can do it. I will do it. Moreover, I know with a quiet certainty, I'll do it brilliantly.

I nod.

"Why did you wait so long to let me read it?"

"I was nervous," I say truthfully. I like Keri Ann thinking the world of me. I don't want her not liking something I've written. The fact she thinks it is good, absolutely humbles me. Relief washes through my veins. The publicity will be big though. "And look, if you would rather I didn't announce it's about me, I won't. It's enough for me that it's out there. It will only add extra publicity to our lives."

"Publicity that will help an incredible movie become even more important and mind-blowing? Of course you need to own it. You need to tell people it's your story." She smiles. "I can handle a bit more publicity. And since it will be on you rather than me, perhaps it will give me a break from "ring watch" and "baby b.u.mp watch."

I try not to react to her observation of ring watch and baby b.u.mp watch. I feel like I've been doing the same as the press for three years ... watching and waiting until she's ready. I'll be on "gay watch" soon.

"But we'll be in England," I remind her. "The paparazzi are worse there, it seems. Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," she responds to my concern. "Your mom and I will be fine. Besides, I want to go and visit the coast again. There's so much sea gla.s.s there. I get really inspired when we're in England."

Every time we go there, Keri Ann insists we stay with my mother and Jeff rather than one of the fancy hotels I push for. I always concede, knowing it makes Mum happy, too.

Making muted love to Keri Ann in the guest bedroom, trying not to be too loud, always drives me nuts and makes Keri Ann giggle. I smile thinking about it and lift her sweater revealing her soft belly. Kissing it reverently, smoothing my lips over the silky skin, I inhale the soft fruity scent of her.

She pulls back and runs her hand through my hair, tilting my face up again. "I'm so proud of you," she says seriously.

Pulling her face toward me, I capture her lips with mine, feeling her soft sigh, and slip my tongue into her warm mouth. G.o.d, I love kissing her. "I'm proud of you, too," I whisper against her lips a few moments later. And I am. She dealt with the fall out of being blown up into a tabloid scandal with the most poise and grace I've ever seen, and continues to earn nothing but respect and starry eyes from the public who now look at her as some kind of Cinderella instead of the sleazy gold digger Audrey had planned. She's sweet and funny to the people who want to take her picture and gracious to the ones who deserve to get a fist in the face.

I don't know how she does it.

I fall more in love with her every single day.

And she never wavered in her desire to get her degree. I proudly attended her graduation earlier this year. I ended up setting up a scholarship fund at SCAD for local artists. She was, of course, a beneficiary. She didn't speak to me for two weeks when she found out it was my money.

I finally got through to her that it was an anonymous fund, and that the selection committee couldn't have possibly known. She won it fair and square along with two other deserving students.

I really enjoyed exacting an appropriate apology from her, one that we both enjoyed. She didn't need to know I had designed the selection criteria as specifically as they would allow.

The best part was that I started the fund with money we won suing Tom Price's magazine for printing the pictures he had no rights to. I'd warned him, he did it anyway, and I'd taken great pleasure in putting him in his place.

Shannon Keith, the journalist who was at Keri Ann's first big exhibition, has become a friend. Her story ended up going a long way toward neutralizing the public view of what Audrey planned, and after several local residents corroborated the timing and basically made Keri Ann look like Mary Poppins, it was almost over.

The final blow to Audrey's plan, however, came six months later, when her a.s.sistant whom she'd always treated like yesterday's garbage, quit and went straight to the tabloids. She exposed all of Audrey's scheming. She described her rages, tantrums, and dirty secrets. One of which was that she'd overheard Audrey and my ex-agent strategizing about a fake pregnancy. It coincided with me being nominated for an award for the movie I'd shot in England, and it was catastrophic for Audrey's career. She's been in some small art house movies recently, and I hear she'll be making an appearance on Dancing with the Stars next season. Maybe that will help.

"When's everyone arriving?" I ask Keri Ann, suddenly thinking about the time. How much longer do I have her alone, to myself?

"A few hours. The boat is due at 6pm. Katie's going out to meet it. I think we've done about all we can for the ceremony. Now we should just relax and enjoy everyone being together for the weekend." Keri Ann sighs with contentment. She loves having everyone together, and I love seeing her so happy.

I'm amazed that I feel so at home in a place with which the only link I have is her. "I'm glad I convinced you to let me build a place here where no one can bother us unless we invite them. But I'm thinking we may have to get permission for a helipad, just in case. Then we can come and go more easily."

"A helipad? Are you nuts? That means a helicopter. I'm not getting into a helicopter!" She shuddered. "You got me on airplanes, let's be happy with that, okay?"

I chuckle. I'd had to get her drunk on champagne when we got on our first plane together the night of her art event. It had never occurred to me she'd never flown before. By the time we landed in Tahoe for a few days, she was a mess.

"But yes," she interrupts my memory. "I'm glad you built this place, too. I know Joey would be fine with us staying at the Butler house anytime we wanted, but it's nice here, and so many memories." She winks.

"We," I corrected.

"We what?"

"You said I built this place. We built this place."

She smiles and shakes her head. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Take me to bed for a quickie before everyone arrives?" I ask hopefully and c.o.c.k my eyebrow in a way I know she loves.

"A helipad," she says again, incredulously, shaking her head and not taking my bait.

"What's the big deal? Another resident here has one on the other side of the island."

"Then I guess you should make friends and use his," she suggests. "Anyway, if we have a helipad, someone uninvited may be tempted to land on it."

She has a point.

"Do you think anyone knows there's a wedding happening here?" she asks, the thought of uninvited guests obviously sending her mind down a certain path.

"Nope," I a.s.sure her.

"Hmm," she muses, "I wonder if we should have ours here, too."

I stiffen. My heartbeat trips, and I realize I may have stopped breathing. "What are you saying?" I manage, hoping I seem curious and not desperately hopeful. It's useless, I realize, as the hope surges through me and makes me light headed.

She gives me a wide smile, and my heart seizes. "Just getting everything ready for the wedding this weekend made me realize how much I want it to be us, and once I started thinking that, I literally couldn't stop." She laughs at my surprised expression.

I've never pushed her. I know how much she needed to be her own person, have her own ident.i.ty. And it's been tough for her to achieve it and tough for me to sit on my hands and not help her. I'm so d.a.m.n proud of her.

I've been ready to be a father, too, since the idea was unwelcomingly thrust upon me by Audrey years ago. The idea that I could create life and a family with this gorgeous, sweet, and incredible girl, grabs hold of my heart and mind every time we make love. Although, we've been scrupulously careful. But I want to create a small Keri Ann. A small person, whether a boy or a girl, with all of Keri Ann's grace and beauty, strength and unflinching loyalty. And I want to love that creature and keep it safe from monsters and create a family like I've only ever dreamed could really exist.

One step at a time, I remind myself.

"I'm relieved," I struggle to joke with her, when all I want to do is fall to my knees at her feet. She's finally ready to marry me. "However," I add gravely. "You're going to have to be the one to wait now."

Her forehead cinches up and her eyes grow wide.

"Yeah. You don't think I'm just going to ask you and be done with it, do you? You're gonna have to sweat a little," I say, warming up to my Machiavellian side. I'm going to make this torture.

"What? And give me time to change my mind back?" she asks innocently, and my bloods falls to my feet.

Her warm hand runs over my cheek.

I grab it, bringing her palm to my mouth to kiss it. "Don't rob me of doing something romantic for you. Besides, you pretty much just did the proposing. At least let me save my pride and pretend to be the one doing the asking."

"Did I?" She slaps a hand to her forehead. "I guess you're right. Well, don't wait too long," she whispers.

My heart beats heavily. I thought I was always ready, but perhaps now that I'm facing my past, and my father, I'm becoming whole. Maybe it was good that we waited. Before I change my mind, I try something. "I ..." I struggle to remember the exact way a British t.i.tle should be spoken. "... William John Rhys Thomas, who would have been the 21st Earl of Huntley had he not been declared missing and presumed dead, a.k.a Jack Eversea ... am utterly in love with you, Keri Ann Butler."

"Well, Earl Huntley, I think I prefer Jack. You're too big for your britches as it is, you can't expect me to start calling you Lord." She laughs softly, in a single moment relieving me of the gravity of a name and a past, and takes my hand. Sliding it back under her sweater, my fingers take the lead and run along the skin of her belly.

Suddenly, there is poignant significance in such a simple caress. The swell of primal urge to plant my seed is almost dizzying. She leans down again and kisses me.

When we stop, I'm breathing hard. "But we should probably get a head start on creating an heir," I joke between kisses, my hand still resting on her belly, staking my claim. "I've heard it can take some time."

She looks down at me. Her blue eyes are startlingly bright today. "I guess I'm ready for that, too."

My hand stops its idle caress, and I flick my eyes involuntarily down to her belly. My mouth goes instantly dry as I try and fail to swallow, causing a painful gulp. I look back up at her face and see the answer in her tremulous smile and glistening eyes. She bites her lip. "Now, if you like," she says simply, giving me everything she has.

A tidal wave of emotion roars through me, hitting hard, leaving me almost gasping and causing me to close my eyes. I slide off my chair, my knees. .h.i.tting the floor at her feet.

It finally ebbs, and for a moment there is complete stillness inside me. I wrap my arms around her.

And peace.

There is peace.

The Kill Thirty Seconds to Mars.

Sand in my Shoes Dido.

Last Chance Honor by August.

The Shade of Poison Trees Dashboard Confessional.

It's Over Civil Twilight Closer to the Edge Thirty Seconds to Mars.

Retrograde James Blake.

Smoke and Ashes Tracy Chapman Bonfire Heart James Blunt Waves Blondfire.

Green Eyes Coldplay All of Me John Legend.

Paul Coehlo wrote that "Writing is one of the most solitary activities in the world." And he's right. In a way. When I live in Jack and Keri Ann's world, I'm there whether I'm actually putting the words on the page, or if I'm going through the mechanics of the rest of my life. My mind is plotting away, having conversations, and arguing with what my characters seem to want to do versus what I think they should do. They usually win. That sounds dumb, I know. If you'd told me I'd say that a year ago I would have laughed in your face. Seriously.

How things change!.

One year ago from this writing I hadn't finished a book! What you are holding in your hands is my second book!

The reality is, far from a solitary enterprise, writing a book and bringing it to market takes a village. Heck, it takes a whole freaking town. My husband let me work over the weekends and my mother took over on school runs and dinner making (and laundry folding). And my kids were so patient with me. My critique partners, Al and Dave, kept me from cliche's and getting too complacent. They also buoyed my spirits when I wasn't feeling it. My Stormy Nights girls kept me sane and laughing! And thank you to my sweet friends who don't take offense when I drop off the map for weeks at a time, sometimes months, because I am so consumed.

The terrific font of Jack on the cover was hand-drawn by my sister, Ca.s.sy Poulos. Thank you, Ca.s.s. I love you! And the cover was designed by Adrian Repasch. Bow to him! Bow to him! Thank you to Angela McLaurin of Fictional Formats who formatted both Eversea and Forever, Jack. She is seriously good at her job!

My editor, Judy Roth (she needs her own paragraph) is so much more than an editor. She has become a friend, and makes me laugh with her little comments in the side bar when I'm about to tear my hair out, and she has unbelievable patience. And we've never met in person! I can't wait to meet her and take her out for a boozy lunch!

My readers ... aaaah, my readers. Do you have any idea how much I love you? How much it means to me to get a message at 2 am Australian time (Rommy!) to tell me you couldn't wait until morning to contact me because you were still so giddy over Jack and Keri Ann! And that was just one! There were hundreds! From all over the world! You guys FLOORED me. I literally didn't sleep the whole month of June because my heart was pounding so hard and I wanted to respond to each and every one of you. Thank you for that. <- those="" words="" seem="" so="">

Thank you to my agent, Elaine Spencer, who continues to grow our working relationship! I'm excited!

The bloggers who read and reviewed and raved about Eversea ... thank you! Thank you for spreading the word and being so encouraging.

Thank you to the group of readers and friends of "Let's get Jack-ed!", who took up the mantle of keeping Eversea and Jack fresh in everyone's minds. You will probably never understand how much that means to me. I hope I can continue earning your care and enthusiasm. Lisa W., Lisa H. R., Kimmie, Karen, Faith, Shannon, Nasha, Julianne, Bonnie, Denise, Amy, Jess, Nicole D., Nicole B., Drue, Elaine, Rea, Clemmie, Rommy, Heather, Mary-Nancy, Melissa, Caroline, April, Carole, Layla, Dawn, Stephanie, Dawn, Angela, and Tugce Nida. And so many more who have supported me.

If you received a birthday card from Jack Eversea (Friend him!) on Facebook, you can thank Julianne Burke! She is phenomenal!

Thank you Faith Martens (Apocalypso) for creating the turtle necklace I wear almost every day that is also featured on the front of this book! Her store is Hula Tallulah on Etsy if you'd like one.

Please don't forget to leave a review at your point of sale. It only takes you a few moments, but is absolutely critical for an author! Oh, and please know that a portion of your sale is donated to The Sea Turtle Project and also to Literacy Volunteers of the Lowcountry.

Okay the music is playing, I have to get off stage.

Keep in touch! I'd love to hear from you!.

Thank you.

Natasha Boyd holds a Bachelor of Science in Psychology. She has lived in Spain, South Africa, Belgium, England and now currently resides with her husband and two boys on Hilton Head Island, SC, USA-complete with Spanish moss, alligators and mosquitos the size of tiny birds.

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