Worth the Fall (Sugar Mountain #1)

HAPPY ENDINGS

brOOKLYN

I ’d been living with Thomas and Clara for two weeks now. It was total freaking bliss. We decorated the house for Christmas and even chopped down our own tree, which was something I hadn’t done since I was a little kid. I’d forgotten how much I loved the way Christmas trees smelled.

Clara loved every single thing that we did in the home. Her joy was so pure that it filled me with my own happiness. I was grateful that what she’d gone through hadn’t ruined the holiday for her completely. If anything, it held no bearing on the way she felt at all. She never even brought it up.

Me, on the other hand? I was a work in progress. It sounded dramatic, but trauma had a way of searing itself in your body, whether you wanted it to or not. I couldn’t help but associate the decorations with what had happened that night. Each day was a little better than the last, but I knew that there would never come a time when I didn’t remember what we’d gone through or the sheer terror I’d experienced.

“Almost ready to go, baby?” Thomas walked into our bedroom, where I was putting the finishing touches on my makeup.

I spun around to face him. “Yep. Is Clara dressed?”

“I’ll go check on her.”

He gave me a kiss, his tongue sweeping inside, making me moan into him. My fingers dug into his neck. His pressed against my lower back and dipped toward my ass, squeezing and kneading. I felt him get hard, and I fought the urge to drop to my knees. Our bodies moved together, our mouths in perfect rhythm. Kissing Thomas was erotic and a total turn-on. When he broke the kiss and took a step back, I lost my balance. My body always seemed to cave into his, but he caught me easily, making sure I was upright as he adjusted the issue in his pants.

“You know I’m going to marry you, right?” he said out of nowhere, and I started coughing.

“Thomas.” I hit my chest with my palm.

“I’m not asking you to marry me right now. But I’m going to. One day down the road. So, you’d better start mentally preparing to say yes.” He grinned, those blue eyes shining as he looked at me.

“I don’t need to mentally prepare.” I pursed my lips together defiantly, mimicking his words.

“You trying to get me to propose to you already, Little Runner?” The nickname had somehow stuck, and I couldn’t even complain about it because I kind of thought it was cute.

“No,” I said a little too quickly. “But when you do, I’ll be ready.” I tried to sound confident.

He laughed. “You’ll be scared to death.”

“I’ll still say yes though,” I said, basically admitting to him that his assessment was spot-on.

“You’re mine forever, Little Runner. Never letting you go.”

“Better not.” I pushed against his chest, but he didn’t even budge. “Stupid, rock-hard chest.”

“Wanna go rock climbing later?” he asked with a wink, and I bit back a laugh as desire flooded my system.

“Absolutely.” I practically salivated at the thought.

Sex with Thomas was mind-blowing. Emotional. A connection I’d never known was possible between two people. I craved him constantly. Had no idea that it could be the way that it was between us. It definitely hadn’t been that way with my ex-husband.

Speaking of Eli, Lana had let me know the other day that he was seriously dating a girl we used to go to high school with, and all I could think was that he was her problem now. My first marriage honestly felt like a lifetime ago. Something I had to force myself to even remember because I was so far removed from it. It was weird to think how my ex and that time of my life rarely ever crossed my mind.

“Can you go make sure our daughter is dressed?” I said, and Thomas stopped mid-step.

“Say that again,” he demanded, his voice breathless, and I realized that it was the first time I’d called Clara that to anyone but myself.

Claiming her as mine had always felt a little wrong, considering that she was Jenna’s. And I never wanted to taint the memory of her real mother or for anyone to feel like I was trying to replace her. But yesterday morning at school, I’d called Clara my stepdaughter after someone asked, and Clara had interrupted and told the woman that she was my real daughter.

Apparently, Clara didn’t like the word step and didn’t want me to call her that. The two of us had agreed that Clara was both mine and Jenna’s. I just hadn’t gotten around to telling Thomas about our conversation yet. He’d distracted me last night with all the things he liked to do to my body. And I was not about to call that off. It was too damn good. I had been too damn willing.

“Can you please go get our daughter?” I said, but I thought he might rip off my clothes instead.

“That’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard you say, baby.” His voice was practically a growl, and I considered throwing my clothes off for him. “I fucking love you.”

“I love you too,” I said before spinning around to look in the mirror instead of those lust-filled eyes. “Now, let me finish getting ready so we can go.”

He disappeared with a satisfied grin on his face.

T he drive over to Patrick’s house was filled with Christmas music and lots of off-key singing. My life had turned into a thing of beauty I wouldn’t have even thought was possible a year ago. I’d come so far from where I’d once been.

We pulled into the long driveway, which had colorful snowmen lining each side of it, and when the house finally came into view, I gasped out loud. Patrick’s home itself was a work of art, but to see it decorated for Christmas was even more awe-inspiring. And the ironic thing was that no one could even appreciate all that he’d done. None of it was visible in the slightest from the road, except for the little snowmen.

“Look at all the lights,” I said, pointing them out to Clara as my heart filled with joy instead of trepidation.

This is a good thing , I thought to myself.

Every single window was framed with garland that was lit up. There were red bows around wreaths that hung in the center of each. And going up the massive staircase to the front door was more garland and more of the matching red bows.

The roof had white lights that spanned from the front of the house all the way to the back of it. Even his freestanding workshop was decorated to match.

“I think Patrick wins,” I said as soon as Thomas put the car in park.

“Wins what?”

“The decorating contest I wasn’t aware we were having.” I hopped out of the car and opened up Clara’s door.

“It’s his first Christmas in this house. I think he just wants it to be special,” Thomas said, but my female intuition told me that there was more to it than that.

“Maybe he made it extra special for me, Mama? Since I have a room here,” Clara said matter-of-factly, and, heck, maybe she was right. Maybe Patrick had done all of this for his niece.

When we knocked on the front door, Jasper started barking, and Patrick shouted for us to come in. Jasper sniffed both me and Thomas before making a beeline right for his favorite girl, Clara. She laughed and patted him on the head while he stayed right by her side, nudging her along with his nose.

We stepped inside and were greeted with an even more amazing wonderland. Lights. Trees. Garland. More red bows. Stockings. But while everything outdoors was crisp and white, everything inside was full blazing color.

“Your house looks amazing, Patrick. Did you do it, or did you hire someone?” I asked.

Matthew, who was already in the kitchen, throwing back a beer, laughed. “Hire someone? You think my brother would ever pay someone to do something he could do himself? Even if it took him ten times as long?” Matthew hopped up and pulled me in for a hug. “Good to see you, sis.”

“You too,” I said as we broke apart and I turned to face Patrick. “So, I take it that you did all this amazingness yourself?” I asked as he threw another log on his already-raging fire.

“I like Christmas,” he said like it was no big deal, but the outside alone must have taken him days. And now that I was inside, looking at the masterpiece in here, this must have taken him days as well.

“Where’s Pops?” Clara asked.

“I think he’s checking out your room,” Patrick said with a wink, and she screamed and giggled.

“Pops! Are you in my room?” she shouted as she sprinted up a set of stairs that headed toward the open loft.

“House looks great, brother.” Thomas gave Patrick a slap on the back, but Patrick only nodded.

“Drink?” Patrick looked at Thomas and waited.

“I’ll take a beer. Want anything, baby?” Thomas asked me.

“Wine? We should have brought a bottle. Do you have any wine, Patrick? If not, I’ll take a beer too,” I said even though I hated beer. What was I thinking?

Matthew laughed again. “There’s a wine cellar in the basement.”

“Stop laughing at me. How was I supposed to know that?” I complained.

“I’ll go pick out a bottle. Red or white?” Patrick asked as he sauntered away before I even responded to his question.

“Red,” I said, and Mr. O’Grady began walking down the loft stairs.

“I second the red,” he said, and we smiled at one another.

I started wandering around the house, taking in all the small details. I couldn’t believe that Patrick had built this whole place himself.

Down one of the hallways, I spotted a calendar on the wall that didn’t make any sense. It was written in weird increments, spanning over what looked like five years, and some of the dates were crossed out while others remained untouched. I was studying it a little too closely right as Patrick appeared behind me.

“Sorry. I wasn’t trying to snoop,” I said, feeling like I’d done something wrong. “What kind of calendar is this? A building one?” I tried to figure it out.

“Sure,” he said, and I knew it wasn’t true.

Patrick was always a little secretive. Or maybe he was just quieter than his brothers.

“No, really, what is it? What is it counting down? The wedding barn?” I perused it once more. “No, that doesn’t make sense,” I said because the untouched dates went on for far longer than it would take to finish the barn.

“It’s not the barn, Brooklyn. Don’t worry about it. It’s stupid,” he said, and I could tell that this calendar was counting down to something he didn’t want to share.

“Patrick.”

“Just drop it. I don’t think she’s coming back anyway,” he said, and I knew instantly that he was talking about his ex-girlfriend, Addison.

He walked away, his head down, and my heart broke for him. I wished that I knew her better or had been friends with her at all because I would give anything in this moment to reach out to her and beg her to come back home.

Patrick was never going to get over her. And after seeing them together in high school and watching the way the two of them loved one another, I completely understood why. They’d always been different, better somehow than the rest of us. Maturer or something. Even back then, I’d realized that what they had was rare and that most people never found the kind of love that they shared.

What I didn’t understand was how Addison could have walked away from him and never come back. I wondered if she was just as miserable and lonely as he was. And honestly, I kind of wished that she were.

All of my O’Grady men deserved a happy ending. I was grateful for the one I’d found. I just wasn’t sure how Patrick would ever get his if Addison wasn’t in it.

THE END