Calendar Girl: November: Book 11 (11 page)

“No! No. It’s fine. I’ll do it. Can I have the same crew from New York?”

“You want the goth girl, Kathy?”

Goth girl. The woman had dark hair, wore black-rimmed glasses and was automatically stereotyped as “the goth girl.” Sometimes I really hated Hollywood. Mostly, I just despised Drew’s assistant.

I sighed. “Yes, I’d like Kathy Rowlinski please. As a matter of fact, is there a way that Century can make her my official production assistant?”

“You’ll have to talk to Drew or Leona about that.”

“Fine. Thank you, Shandi, for calling. I’ll look forward to receiving the details of the segment.”

I groaned, pressed the off button on the phone, threw my arm back, and chucked the phone out toward the sand.

Wes’s arm came out of nowhere and caught the phone midair. “Lose something, sweetheart?” He laughed and made his way over the sandy hill and up the stairs. His wet suit was hanging down around his hips, his chest soaked with water trails. He turned on the water spout at the top of the steps and rinsed off his sandy feet.

Without even thinking, fully clothed, I went right up to him, leaned over, found one of those water trails, and dragged my tongue from the fantastic V over his hips, up his rock hard abs, and over his chiseled pecs until I got up to his mouth where I took his lips in a blistering kiss. I plastered my body against his, letting the freezing cold water from the ocean soak into my clothes. I didn’t care. Right then, I needed to be with him and drown my mind and body in the man I loved and get over the fact that I was going to have to leave in a week.

He lifted me up and palmed my ass before he walked through the house to our bedroom where he proceeded to welcome me home in the best possible way.

W
es played
with my hair as I lay breathless across his chest. “Did she say what kind of money we’re talking? Why would this mountain man pay the show to come film there? It would have to be a lot of money.”

I nodded against his skin and propped my chin on my hands where they rested over his heart. “It is weird, but Aspen, Colorado is beautiful, I hear. I’ve never been there. Have you?”

He smiled. “Aspen? Has a boy who was raised by rich socialites from Hollywood been to Aspen? Hmmm….”

“What?” I shook my head, not understanding where he was going with his joke.

His eyes twinkled. “Mia, Aspen is like the winter wonderland for the rich and famous. My folks own a cabin there. A big one.”

“Really?” I blinked a few times, never fully understanding the scope of the money the man I was marrying came from and possessed himself.

He laughed. “Yes, really. It sleeps fourteen to sixteen adults but has a variety of other pullouts. Not that my family has ever used them.”

“Wow. Why so big?” I knew that there was only his sister, her husband, and his parents.

Wes nuzzled my nose. “Mom says she was planning ahead for grandchildren and their families. They bought it early in their marriage for a good price, rent it out throughout the year, have a caretaker. We usually go every year for a week. Ski, soak up the mountain air, hang out.”

“Huh. Do you think we could stay there? With our camera crew?”

“Yeah. Mom doesn’t allow it to be rented out during December in case the family wants to use it.”

“Awesome. We’ll have Maddy and Matt come out. They’ll be on winter break. Oooh…I wonder if Max would come?”

“For you?” His voice dropped sardonically.

I pinched his nipple lightly. Not enough to hurt, just enough to be playful. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Wes grinned. “Mia, Max dotes on you the same way he does his wife, kids, and your sister. He’s a family man through and through. You say you want something, he’s going to string the moon to give it to you. It’s just his nature. I’ll bet his dad was just like that.”

“Maddy, too,” I said. The thought reminded me how hard it had been on my own father to find out what he’d suspected was true—that Maddy wasn’t his child genetically.

“Yeah, they have that in common.”

I nodded and rested my head on his chest. “Do you think your family would consider doing Christmas in Colorado for a few days? We could have Jeananna and her husband, Peter, come out, Max and his clan, Maddy, Matt, and his parents, and Ginelle?”

“Sweetheart, haven’t you realized that just like your brother, if you want something from me, I’m going to do anything in my power to give it to you.” His response wasn’t humorous. He stated it like a simple given fact. One that made my insides melt into a puddle of goo.

I kissed him slow and with enough passion to start another round of welcome home.

Once I pulled away, his eyes were glassy and half-closed.

“I think I’m dreaming of a white Christmas.” I grinned and licked the flat disk of his nipple.

He rolled me over in a flash and settled between my thighs.
“Here comes Santa Claus, here comes Santa Claus, right down Santa Claus lane…”
he sang while nuzzling his scruffy chin into the sensitive part of my neck until I laughed with glee.

“Looks like Christmas is coming early this year,” I moaned when his he wrapped his lips around my nipple and tugged. A zing of pleasure rippled through me.

Wes lifted up and eyed me as he ran his chin down, down, down, hovering just over my heat. “Mia, you’re the gift that keeps on giving.”

I wanted to come back with a wickedly devious retort, one that would have him panting with lust, but it was too late. Wes took me places with his lips, tongue, and fingers that removed all ability to speak.

My last thought before I slipped over the edge into the dark waters of our passion was that every year, every holiday, every damn day of my life was forever going to be this good, as long as I had Wes to share it with.

Bring it on, world.

I finally had it all. Happiness. Family. Friends. My sister was taken care of. A brother. My father was on the path to recovery, and a man who adored me and wanted to spend the rest of his life proving it. I planned on spending the rest of my life proving it right back.

M
ia’s story
is continued in
December Calendar Girl,
the last installment of the
Calendar Girl
Serial.

I
was not prepared
for the extreme beauty that hit me the moment we drove into the Downtown area. Excitedly, I got out of the car and spun around in a circle. The scenery stole my breath as I soaked in the grandeur of the mountains. It was as if the downtown area were set inside of a basin, hidden smack dab in the center of the Earth. People roamed in and out of the shops, wearing bright colors that stood out against the snowy backdrop of the towering mountains in the distance.

“Now I get it,” I whispered as I continued to stare wide-eyed at the glory surrounding us.

“You get what?” Wes asked, grabbing my gloved hand. Still, through layers of leather and wool, I was able to feel his warmth seep into my palm.

“Why this place is so desirable. It’s astonishing. I’ve been to Lake Tahoe and seen snow-covered mountains before, skied them too, but nothing compares to this.” I let out a slow breath, trying to take it all in, knowing I wouldn’t be able to. There was far too much to appreciate. Hopefully, over the next two weeks or so, the majesty of it would wane, but I doubted it.

Wes glanced at the enormous mountains. “No, I see where you’re coming from. Though I’ve been here so many times, it will be nice seeing it through new eyes from your perspective.”

I smiled and squeezed his hand.

“Where to first?” I asked, hoping he’d lead the way.

He tugged me to his side where he looped an arm around my shoulders. “Let’s get a hot beverage here”—he pointed at Caribou coffee—“and then we’ll walk a bit. Sound good?”

I leaned into his side. “Anything with you sounds good. Thanks for coming, by the way,” I said and rubbed my chin into his neck.

Wes smiled so wide I was sure the sunlight glinted off his pearly whites, making them seem brighter. Delight reached his green eyes and melted me on the spot. Seeing him at ease, comfortable in his own skin, filled with a sense of peace would be enough to make me happy for a century.

There was just something about Wes that called to me. Spoke directly to the core essence of my being. In equal parts, it made me blissfully happy and scared me senseless. The joy, however, far outweighed the fear, and I suspected that this would always be the case with us as we got closer to taking our vows to one another.

It was hard to believe that in just over three short weeks I’d be Mrs. Weston Channing. Still couldn’t wrap my brain around it.

As we walked, Weston pointed out different hot spots for nighttime dining and prospective locations to imbibe a few cocktails and spirits if the mood arose. We made it all the way to Main Street where I spied this quaint pink building that sat right on the corner. It was simply named Main Street Bakery & Café.

I pointed it out to Wes. “Have you eaten at that cute place over there?” I asked.

As he was responding, a woman around my height exited. She was lean, wrapped in a wicked cool leather jacket that came down to her knees and tied with a belt at the waist. A hot pink scarf slashed across her body, bringing immediate attention to her neck. Her very familiar pitch black hair hung in loose curls around her shoulders. I squinted, trying desperately to see more of the woman’s face, but she was looking down into her bag.

“And they have the best eggs benedict…” I heard Wes’s words filter in and out of my mind, but my focus was solely on the woman across the street. A tingling sensation sprang up along my nerves, confusing me.

The woman’s shape, hair, the bone structure I could see reminded me so much of someone I knew. A strong sensation of familiarity niggled at the deepest recess of my brain as I took a few steps closer to the curb, catty-corner to the bakery. The woman pulled out a pair of sunglasses, and right before she put them on, her eyes met mine. I gasped and jumped back, slamming into Wes with the burden of weight that simple look hit me with.

“It can’t be…” I choked out, my mouth not able to form any more words with the jumble of emotions swirling around me.

Anger.

Frustration.

Desperation.

Helplessness.

Abandonment and everything in between shot through my body like a freight train steamrolling through the countryside.

“What, Mia? What’s the matter? Sweetheart, you’re white as a ghost.”

I blinked a few times and looked at Wes standing in front of me, arms to my biceps, holding me firmly. “I…I…it can’t be her.” I shook my head and glanced around him, but the woman was gone. Disappeared as if she’d never been there at all.

“B-B-But she was right there!” I glanced at the other businesses and down the sidewalks. Nothing. Gone.

“Who? Who did you think you saw?” Wes asked, concern tinging his tone.

I swallowed the golf-ball sized lump in my throat and, with tears in my eyes, looked at the man who was going to commit his life to me forever. He would never abandon me. With the power and strength that realization gave me, I sucked in a cool burst of air and said her name.

“Meryl Colgrove.”

Wes frowned, and his eyebrows came together. “Baby, I’m not keeping up. Who’s Meryl Colgrove?”

“My mother.”

T
he Falling Series

Angel Falling

London Falling

Justice Falling

T
rinity
Trilogy

Body (Book 1)

Mind (Book 2)

Soul (Book 3)

C
alendar Girl Serial

(New installments will be released every month throughout 2015)

January (Book 1)

February (Book 2)

March (Book 3)

April (Book 4)

May (Book 5)

June (Book 6)

July (Book 7)

August (Book 8)

September (Book 9)

October (Book 10)

November (Book 11)

December (Book 12)

T
o my editor
,
Ekatarina Sayanova
with
Red Quill Editing, LLC
…I think I said it all in my dedication of this installment to you and your awesomeness. (www.redquillediting.net)

To my extraordinarily talented personal assistant,
Heather White (aka The Goddess)
, I am thankful for you. Beyond my ability to express it here but you know…
you know
!

Any author knows they aren’t worth their weight unless their story is backed by badass betas. I have the best!

Jeananna Goodall
,
Ginelle Blanch, and Anita Shofner—
for always being ready to lend a helping hand and give your feedback at a moment’s notice. I have the best beta team in the world. Thank you.

Thank you to the ladies at
Give Me Books
and
Kylie McDermott
for spreading this book far and wide into the virtual social world!

Thank you to my publisher,
Waterhouse Press
for making the installments beautiful and sharing them with the masses.

To the Audrey Carlan Street Team of wicked hot Angels, together we change the world. One book at a time. BESOS-4-LIFE lovely ladies.

A
udrey Carlan lives
in the sunny California Valley two hours away from the city, the beach, the mountains and the precious … the vineyards. She has been married to the love of her life for over a decade and has two young children that live up to their title of “Monster Madness” on daily basis. When she’s not writing wickedly hot romances, doing yoga, or sipping wine with her “soul sisters”, three incredibly different and unique voices in her life, she can be found with her nose stuck in book or her Kindle. A hot, smutty, romantic book to be exact!