Eternally London E-Book

Ellie Wade

• Herausgeber: Ellie Wade, LLC
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

Forever.
I’ve found mine.
With Loïc.
Our life together is perfect.
Until it’s not.
Darkness invades, and my heart shatters.
It’s not supposed to be like this.
I can’t find such happiness just to lose it.
I want it back.
I just don’t know how.
Forever.
I’ve found mine.
With London.
Our days are full of love and meaning.
I’ve found what I was waiting for my whole life.
And then the light is gone.
Her eyes are vacant, and her soul is weary.
My chest aches because I can’t fix it.
She’s my happily ever after, and I’ll fight every day to show her what that means.

Leseprobe

OTHER TITLES BY ELLIE WADE

Forever Baby

Fragment

Chasing Memories

THE CHOICES SERIES

A Beautiful Kind of Love

A Forever Kind of Love

THE FLAWED HEART SERIES

Finding London

Keeping London

Loving London

WOULD YOU LIKE TO KNOW WHEN ELLIE HAS GIVEAWAYS, SALES, OR NEW RELEASES?

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Copyright © 2017 by Ellie WadeAll rights reserved. Visit my website at www.elliewade.comCover Designer: Regina Wamba, Mae-I-DesignEditor and Interior Designer: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.comNo part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. ISBN-13: 978-1-944495-05-3

Elle, you’re an amazing soul, and I’m blessed to call you my friend. May your journey always be a beautiful one. I love you.

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Epilogue

Dear Readers

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Loïc

“I like to think that I’m strong—maybe I am—but even the mightiest of men need a reason to fight, and London is mine.”

—Loïc Berkeley

My chest expands as I inhale, fighting to pull in the air I desperately need. My head aches from lack of oxygen, yet none comes. Only dread. Fear.

I’m consumed, drowning in panic, enveloped in pain.

Taking in his face causes more agony because I know what’s about to happen. I’m going to lose him and possibly myself. This is it. The next second is going to alter the course of my life forever.

It’s over, and all I can do is scream…

“Loïc.”

I vaguely register my name as a soft, sweet voice resonates deep within my mind.

“Loïc, you’re okay. Wake up. It’s just a dream. You’re okay,” she repeats.

I recognize the voice.

My London.

“Loïc,” she says again as her hand glides across my chest, slick with sweat.

“Hey,” I respond weakly, letting her know I’m okay.

“You had a nightmare,” she says into the dark space.

I let out a long breath. “Yeah.”

“You haven’t had one in so long. Was it bad?” she asks, concerned.

“It was about Cooper again.” I swallow hard, my throat dry.

My mind is almost always crammed with thoughts of my best friend, my brother. I can’t shake his memory or that final look on his face before the grenade exploded. Part of me thinks that little asshole is doing it on purpose. It’d be so like Cooper to haunt me for all eternity. He was always a little intrusive, constantly in my business.

My lips slightly tilt up, and warmth invades my chest, calming my racing heart, as I imagine Cooper with a huge smile on his face, somewhere out there—wherever we go when we leave our lives here. I can see him, happy and laughing, proud of his ability to still insert himself into my life.

London wraps her arm around my middle. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” I kiss the top of her head.

“I wonder what triggered it.”

“It’s Tommy.”

Tommy is a kid, just turned nineteen. He recently joined my PTSD group at the VA. He’s freshly back from deployment with two fewer legs than he left with. His body was ripped apart by an IED.

“The new guy you were telling me about?” she asks.

“Yeah. He just brings me back, you know?”

Yesterday, Tommy showed up to my group with that vacant look in his eyes. I’ve seen that look before. Hell, I had it. I know the hopelessness, the all-consuming desperation, that surrounds Tommy. I hope he has enough inner strength left to fight. The hollow expression he carries is haunting, and it takes me back to a very dark part of my life. I just pray I reach him in time.

“I know. I’m sorry.” London entwines her bare legs with mine, pulling us closer. “What can I do?”

“Nothing. I’m fine. Let’s just go back to sleep.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” I nod.

“Okay.” London places a soft kiss against my chest. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

I mindlessly trace circles against her smooth skin as her breathing slows. A silky lock of her hair falls onto her cheek, and I gently swipe it back. I take in her peaceful face, just visible from the faint early morning light. I envy the serenity that surrounds her.

I’m happier than I’ve ever been. This life that London and I have built is nothing short of a gift. I’m blessed to wake up to this woman every day. It’s a privilege to be on the receiving end of her endless love. It’s a life, until recently, I never knew was possible, and I’ll never take it for granted. Not a minute of it.

Yet the truth of it is that the nights are still hard. When darkness covers the earth and my head hits the pillow, I lose all pretense of control. My mind is an unguarded vault, a tomb filled with horrors that too often escape and terrorize my nights.

It’s a reality I’ve learned to live with. Nightmares don’t come every evening. They vary in severity, some easier to swallow than others. I manage…pretty well, I’d say. I’m luckier than most.

I hate that I woke London tonight. I try not to burden her with my dark thoughts. Not that she would mind. Honestly, I’m sure she’d rather know, so she could help me. She’d do anything for me. But it’s not a weight she needs to carry because the fact is, there’s nothing she can do about it. It just is what it is. My life will always contain flashbacks, regrets, and pain. One can’t see the things I have and just forget. But I try to make each day count, to give back, to help.

As I lie here, holding London in my arms, I listen to her shallow breaths. I press my face into her hair, smelling the scent of her new shampoo. In the silence of dawn, I hear the deep sound of the repetitive drum of her heart—a heart that beats for me.

She is the light amid so much darkness. My sanctuary isn’t a place; it’s a person. London will forever be my safe haven. She has no idea, but she continues to save me each and every day. I like to think that I’m strong—maybe I am—but even the mightiest of men need a reason to fight, and London is mine.

When I walk into the house, I hear the keys on the computer clicking away as London talks to someone on speakerphone, and I immediately recognize the voice as her friend Kate, who lives in California.

“Oh my gosh! I know, right?” London says in a valley girl voice.

London sees me and tells Kate that they’ll chat later.

“Hey, babe. How was work?” she asks cheerfully.

“Great. How was your day?”

“Awesome. I’m almost done with this article, and I got a job in Savannah in two weeks. Do you think you’ll be able to get some time off and come with me?”

“I think that can be arranged.” I plop down on the couch beside her, kicking my feet up onto the coffee table. “It still amazes me how you can type one thought while talking on the phone about something else. I can’t do that.”

“I’m gifted. What can I say?” She shrugs before closing her laptop and setting it down beside her.

She throws one of her legs over my lap to straddle me. “Your fatigues are a major turn-on,” she tells me, pulling on the collar of my uniform.

I smile. “I know. You tell me daily.” I wrap my hands around her waist.

“That’s because, every day, I’m reminded of how hot my husband is.”

London bends forward, bringing her lips to mine. Her mouth lightly touches me, and my heart skips a beat before it begins to accelerate.

This inherent connection I have with London has always been present. Even at the very beginning when it was unwelcome, it existed. She’s mine, and I’m hers. There’s not a doubt in my mind that we’ll always be together.

Our lips move together, slow, purposeful, void of any urgent desperation. After almost a year of marriage, her kisses still light a bright fire within me, rendering me incapable of thinking about anything other than her.

Even without her kisses, she’s perpetually on my mind. I carry her with me wherever I go and in whatever I do. She’s my constant, my life.

She pulls away, and a soft groan escapes us both.

“There’s nothing more I’d like to do than take these hot-ass fatigues off you and show you just how much they turn me on, but…”

“But?” I quirk up a brow.

“I’m starving,” she states simply. “Like, my-stomach-is-about-to-eat-my-other-organs starving.”

“What’d you eat today?”

“Coffee and gummy bears.” She shrugs.

“Babe, one cannot exist on coffee and sugar alone.” I shake my head, my lips turning up in a grin.

“I bet they can.”

“What happened to going grocery shopping today?”

“I couldn’t. I tried, but I couldn’t.” She sighs.

“You did not try.” I laugh.

“Yes, I did.” Her gorgeous brown eyes widen. “I looked at my shoes and everything. I just couldn’t will myself to put them on. Grocery shopping sucks. You know it does.”

“It does.” I nod. “What do you feel like?”

She presses her lips together in a line, thinking. “Thai or Mexican…or both! Yes, let’s do both!”

“We’re not going to two restaurants. Pick one.”

“I can’t. I’m too weak.” In dramatic fashion, she places her forearm against her head. “You pick.”

“Okay, we’ll go to that Thai place downtown.”

London grabs my shoulders. “No, pizza. Let’s do pizza. Moretti’s has the best ranch. Let’s go there. I need a meal with ranch.”

“That works.” I lift London off my lap. “Let me go get changed really quick.” I lean in and give her a small kiss on the lips. “And you’re the only person I know who bases their meal on the condiment.” I chuckle.

London follows me into the bedroom. “That can’t be true. Everyone craves food based on the condiment. You feel like honey mustard, so you get chicken strips. You feel like ranch, you get pizza. You feel like salsa, Mexican. You feel like spicy mustard and sweet and sour sauce, Chinese. Ketchup, something with a side of fries. Mayonnaise, a burger. I could go on and on. Food is only as good as the condiment that accompanies it.”

“So you’ve told me—many times.” I throw on a T-shirt. “That’s what I’m saying. No one takes their love of condiments as far as you do.”

“If they don’t, they should. It only makes the meal.”

“You should write a book about it.” I wave my hand out in front of me as I say, “The World of Food According to London.”

“Yes!” She stands in front of the mirror and applies lip color. “You know it’d be a best seller.”

“Oh, I have no doubt. If anyone can fill a three-hundred-page novel with condiment etiquette, it’s you.”

She fans her mouth with her hand in what I can only assume is an effort to dry her newly bright red lips.

“Why are you putting on lipstick? We’re going to go eat greasy pizza.”

She rubs her lips together before making a kissy face at the mirror. Turning, she grabs my hand. “It won’t come off. It’s LipSense.”

We head out of the room.

“Oh, is that the magic lip stuffPaige got you hooked on?”

“Yes, it is, and I’m obsessed. I shall never leave the house without it. This is a new color—Fly Girl. I just got it today. What do you think?”

“I think you look gorgeous—as always.” I squeeze her hand. “You don’t need magic lips to be beautiful though.”

“Aw, thanks, babe.” She lifts up onto her tiptoes and kisses me. Then, she drags her finger across my lips before showing it to me. “See? Nothing there. It’s magic.”

I chuckle and kiss her again. “Let’s go eat.”

In the truck, London’s attention is back on condiments as she cheerfully talks about ketchup brands and the merits of each one as we drive toward the restaurant.

My chest fills with gratitude for her, for everything that led me to her, for this life. She’s the wish I never knew to ask for. Life with London is a gift.

I know London’s the one I’m supposed to be with because everything we do, no matter how mundane it seems, is accompanied by a joy so great that it still leaves me speechless.

London

“In all the fairy tales, there’s the happily ever after—the pivotal moment that every little girl dreams of reaching. Yet it’s this, right here—the life after the happily ever after—that’s the true gift.”

—London Berkeley

A cloud of steam rushes out before me as soon as I open the bathroom door. The cool air of the hotel room feels incredible against my heated skin, now a light pink from the hot shower.

My eyes are immediately drawn to Loïc sitting up against the headboard of the large king-size bed in nothing but his fitted boxers. I stop in my tracks, pulling in a deep breath, as I take in the handsome man who is my husband. We’ve been married for just over a year now, and he continues to steal my breath simply by existing.

He hasn’t put on his prosthetic leg yet, and that only adds to his level of appeal. Loïc is so much more than physical beauty, and his missing limb reminds me of that. He’s a fighter, a mighty warrior, and he’s mine.

He’s yet to notice me standing here, in my towel, ogling him. His brows furrow as he stares at his phone, and I know he must be reading military-related news. He always has the same equally thoughtful and concerned expression when he receives information pertaining to soldiers.

“Is everything all right?” I ask as I make my way toward him.

Loïc’s gorgeous blues find me and widen. A smooth, sexy smile graces his face. “Hey, beautiful.”

“Whatcha reading about?” I ask as I plop down on the bed beside him.

His attention drops to his phone before quickly returning to me. His grin falls. “A helicopter was shot down over the mountains, not even a mile from Bagram.”

“Oh no!” I reach my hand out and cover his.

I hate hearing about the tragedies that still take place in Afghanistan. Every time I hear an upsetting story about the soldiers who currently serve overseas, it brings me right back to Loïc’s deployment. Technically, he’s been safe from enemy fire for three years now, yet in the same breath, he fights to overcome that deadly blast each and every day. That grenade continues to detonate again and again in Loïc’s mind. He’ll forever be fighting to survive its devastation.

Part of me wishes he weren’t still so involved in military events because every piece of bad news rips open old wounds. Ironically though, his commitment to the military, to the men and women who’ve fought in the armed forces, has allowed him to heal. I understand that, but it’s still hard.

“Did anyone die?”

“They’re looking for the wreckage, but chances are, all sixteen soldiers aboard that chopper are gone,” he says solemnly.

I sigh. “Ugh, that sucks. So much.”

“Yeah,” he responds.

“I’m so sorry,” I say.

There aren’t any words that can make these things better. I’ve learned that Loïc has to work through difficult times on his own. Nothing I say can make it right. Honestly, there’s a lot of stuff wrong with the whole situation, and I feel helpless to change it. Loïc has told me time and time again that me just being here for him, loving him, is all the support he needs.

So, that’s what I do. I love him.

I scoot back against the headboard of the bed, wrap my arms around Loïc’s chest, and lean my head on his shoulder. The two of us sit in silence for a while, both lost in our own thoughts.

After several minutes, he asks, “What time is your interview?”

“Oh.” I reach for my phone on the bedside table to see that it’s only ten a.m. “Not until three. We have time.” I thread my fingers through Loïc’s and bring his hand up to my mouth. I kiss it. “We can go explore for a bit. Grab some food? You hungry?”

“Yes,” Loïc answers. “They have good food here?”

I snicker slightly. “You know we’re in the South, right? The food is heavenly. Lots of seafood, fried goodness, and butter. Everything’s better with butter.”

He peers down at me with furrowed eyebrows and a smirk on his face.

“Hey, you said good. You didn’t say anything about healthy.” I grin.

“Very true.” He chuckles. “So, who’s this guy you’re interviewing again?”

“Some politician who professes that he’s got all the answers. He’s gonna change the world.”

“So, just your typical politician?”

“Pretty much.”

“And he’s from Savannah?” Loïc asks.

“I don’t think so. He has a vacation home here.”

“Probably one of many vacation homes he has all over the country,” he adds.

“I’m sure.”

“I bet he’s really in touch with reality,” Loïc says.

I nudge his side. “Hey, just because someone comes from money doesn’t mean that they aren’t in touch with reality.”

I turn to Loïc again to find his lips pressed into a line as he tries not to laugh.

“You jerk,” I say. I remove my arms from around Loïc and dramatically cross them in front of me.

“I didn’t say anything about you,” he says.

“You were thinking it.” I scowl.

“You’re completely in touch with reality. Always have been. When I first met you, all I could think was, Man, this girl has really had it rough. Well, that, and of course, how close your tits were to falling out of your bikini top.”

My angry facade disappears into a fit of laughter. “You’re crazy.”

“Crazy for you, my love,” Loïc responds.

“And stop acting like you were ogling my boobs. You didn’t even look at them. I remember because I pulled out all my best moves, and you didn’t even notice.”

Loïc laughs. “London, everyone in a one-block radius noticed you dragging your tits up and down my truck.”

“I did not do that.” I smack his arm. “Well, maybe a little, but I watched you, and you didn’t look.”

“I didn’t look, but believe me, I saw.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” I chuckle.

“It makes complete sense.”

“You’re lucky I love you.”

“Yes, I am.”

The deep timbre of Loïc’s voice melts me. I stare into his beautiful eyes, and I’m flooded with such a powerful sense of gratitude for this man. He always says that I saved him, and that might be true. But I wouldn’t be half the woman I am today without Loïc by my side. If anything, we saved each other.

I lift my leg over Loïc and straddle him, allowing my towel to fall in the process. His eyes darken, and his chest rises as he pulls in a deep breath. It doesn’t take long for his hands to find my breasts. He squeezes my nipples between his thumb and forefinger, twisting them in the most delicious way.

My head falls back with a moan as I close my eyes, taking in the sparks of pleasure. Loïc shifts beneath me. His strong hands move, now grasping my back, as his warm, wet mouth takes over where his hands left off. His tongue circles around my nipple before he sucks it deep into his mouth. Gasping, I thread my fingers around the back of his head and pull his face into my chest.

In one swift movement, Loïc lifts and flips me onto my back, encasing me between his arms. His soft lips begin to trail light, savory kisses down my chest and across my belly.

I run my palms up and down his muscled arms. “I thought you wanted to go get food. Aren’t you hungry?” I whisper weakly.

“Ravenous,” Loïc answers before his mouth finds the most perfect spot between my legs.

I cry out as his tongue begins its mind-blowing assault, lighting every nerve in my body ablaze. I tightly squeeze my eyelids closed and desperately grab at the sheets, wanting him to stop, as he lights a raging fire of need with every swipe of his tongue. The sensations are almost too much to take. As his tongue plunges deeper, the word stop becomes a plea.

“Loïc,” I say with an almost pained sob. “Loïc.” I fist his hair, and my limbs tremble. The warm rush of sensations pulls me under, and I scream out as staggering waves of pleasure shoot through me.

I’m completely spent, unable to do anything but pull air into my lungs. I breathe in deeply as the aftershocks of my incredible orgasm continue throughout my body. I vaguely register Loïc and his kisses as he works his way up toward my face.

His lips press against my own before he says, “Good?”

“So good.” My words come out breathless.

I can feel the smile on Loïc’s mouth as he kisses me again—his lips so full, his kisses intoxicating.

Without warning, I break the kiss and push Loïc away from me. “Wait! It’s after ten. Did you leave the key under the rock?”

Loïc’s face wears an expression of confusion. “What?”

“The house key. Did you leave it under the rock?”

“Yeah, babe. You told me to leave it under the rock, and that’s what I did.” He chuckles with a shake of his head.

“The rock by the front porch?” I ask.

“Yes, London. The rock by the front porch,” he repeats slowly. “Why?”

“Well, I was just thinking about Josie.”

Loïc quirks up an eyebrow, and humor lines his voice as he asks, “Oh, really?”

“Ew, no.” I shake my head with a laugh. “Not like that. She’s scheduled to come clean our house today, and I wanted to make sure that we left the key. She should be there now actually.”

Loïc lies beside me, his head propped up on his hand. “I thought we weren’t going to hire anyone to clean our house anymore.”

“Well”—I turn to face Loïc—“I’ve been thinking.”

“Have you?” Loïc smirks.

“I know you said that we are perfectly capable of cleaning our own house, and while I agree with that…we also have the means to hire someone.”

Loïc starts to speak before I cut him off, “Just hear me out. Okay?”

“All right.” He nods.

“Loïc, hiring a housecleaner isn’t a privilege thing.”

“London…” His voice drops.

“I mean, it isn’t something that only the super rich do. Lots of middle class people hire housecleaners. I know you aren’t comfortable with living a rich lifestyle, and that’s fine. But it’s a good thing.” I hold out both my index fingers, pressing one against the other. “Number one, we’re giving Josie a job, which gives her money and therefore helps the economy.”

He chuckles. “I’m glad you’re so interested in the economy.”

“I’m not done.” I grin. “Number two, having our house cleaned by someone else gives us more time to spend together when we’re home. Quality time, not time spent covered in bleach.”

“Why would we be covered in bleach?”

“Because we’re cleaning…you know, with bleach and stuff.”

A wide smile spreads across Loïc’s face, and I continue ticking off on my fingers.

“Number three is because we can. We have the money. Plus, you’ve spent lots of time in your life cleaning, and I’ve spent my fair share.”

“Have you? Little London Wright scrubbed lots of floors growing up, did she?” Loïc’s lips push up into a smirk as he slides his hand across my waist before pulling me closer to him.

“Fine,” I admit. “Maybe I didn’t spend tons of time doing chores as a child, but I get the gist of it.”

Loïc presses his lips together, amused.

“It will be different for our kids,” I promise.

Loïc’s face lights up. “It will?”

“Well, yeah.” I shrug. “I don’t want our kids to grow up, feeling entitled. I want them to understand responsibility and know what it feels like to work hard. We’re going to raise good people.”

“Yeah, we are,” Loïc responds with a nod.

He wears an expression that I can’t quite place as his gaze searches my own.

“What?” I ask, a grin resting on my lips. “What are you thinking?”

“Well, I was just imagining what it’ll be like to have kids with you,” he answers simply.

“And?”

“Honestly, I can’t think of anything more incredible.”

“Me either,” I agree.

“Yeah?” He smiles wide. As always, it’s a beautifully devastating event.

“Of course. What could possibly be more astonishing than creating a life with the man of my dreams and starting a family? Just think… raising perfect little versions of us. I can picture an adorable child with your eyes.” I let out a wistful breath of air.

“And your smile,” he adds, his deep stare penetrating mine.

“Your strength,” I say.

“Your spunk.”

I thread my fingers through the hair at the nape of Loïc’s neck. “Your kindness.”

“And your heart.” He gently runs his thumb across my lips.

“Yeah. Amazing,” I whisper, my voice thoughtful.

“Let’s make a baby, London.” Loïc’s statement is full of conviction and so much love.