Deuce of Hearts Page 16

  Reluctantly, Sawyer pulls away but doesn’t loosen her grip around me. “What are you doing here?”

  I smile and kiss her nose. “I knew this was important to you.”

  She giggles and shakes her head. “Well, yeah, but I doubt that the U.S. Navy took that as an excuse.”

  I laugh and nod. “You’re right on that. I have two days; I flew straight here, and I fly out at noon tomorrow.”

  She frowns. “So, I only have you for less than twenty-four hours?”

  I narrow my eyes. “It’s better than nothing, isn’t it?”

  She smiles and nods. “True.”

  Sawyer kisses me again but before it escalates, I pull back. “I’m going to go ahead and apologize now that a couple of those hours are going to be monopolized by dinner with my parents.”

  “What!?” She gasps, her jaw dropping open.

  Cuzzo gives his big belly laugh at her reaction and I roll my eyes.

  “Let’s not make a big deal out of it. We’re all in New York so it just kind of worked out, okay?” I look over at Dean. “You’ll be joining too, won’t you?”

  He nods and smiles. “I would love to.”

  Sawyer grins at me and I kiss her nose. I’m not nearly as excited as she is about dinner with my parents but she and Cuzzo have been nagging me to get in touch with them. If it makes her happy, I figure why the hell not. Besides, I will hopefully have news to share with them.

  The current couple stops dancing as their music ends. Sawyer kisses me quickly and says she needs to get back to her partner as they’re about to announce the winners. Once she’s gone, I tap Dean on the shoulder. He turns around to look at me and I swallow the lump in my throat.

  “I, um, have a question I need to ask you.”

  Dean lifts an eyebrow inquisitively, waiting for the question. I reach in my pocket and pull out the black velvet box. Opening it, I show Dean the two carat diamond ring I had special ordered. He looks at the ring then looks up at me.

  “Dean, with your permission, I’d like to ask for Sawyer’s hand in marriage.”

  Cuzzo claps me on the shoulder and Dean’s lips grow into a smile. He nods as he shakes my hand. “I think Lana would approve of that. On her behalf, I give you permission.”

  My smile grows as Dean grants me permission and the judges call out Sawyer and her partner’s name as the winners. To think, eight months ago, Sawyer and I both went to Memphis, Missouri for completely different reasons; she ran over my bike and here I am, about to ask her to be my wife. Life is funny the way it works out because if it wasn’t for that deuce of hearts that Dean gave her mother, our relationship might not have grown to where it is today. Fairy tales do exist and I’m lucky enough to be living mine out with Sawyer.

  The End

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  It’s funny how deadlines always seem so far away then they quickly creep up on you. I have to thank Dawn DiDominzio and Amanda Walker for telling me I can do it and to get off Facebook and get to writing. Also, I sincerely appreciate all the kind words and quick beta read from Rebecca McGinnis. I’d also like to give shoutouts to the people who bring my books to life, Amanda Walker for the cover, Melissa Keir for her formatting and seriously, being just a standup friend and always having my back, and Mich of Proofreading by Mich. To the authors of the #MeetCute series, thank you for letting me be a part of this project! To my Lovers of Lyssa Layne, happy reading!!!

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Lyssa Layne is first, and foremost, the proud momma to her precious daughter, AR. In addition to working full-time and being a mommy to AR, she is also an avid St. Louis Cardinals fan, a runner, blogger, and an infertility survivor.

  Having watched one too many medical dramas and being inspired by author Rachelle Ayala, who introduced her to the world of indie writing, Lyssa decided to try her hand at writing a romance story. Her attempt turned into the Burning Lovesick series. You can find Lyssa’s own interests throughout her stories although all stories are fictional.

  Contact Her

  Website: http://www.lyssalayne.com/

  Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/bq2JQn

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lyssalayne

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/layne_lyssa

  Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/authorlyssalayn/

  Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Lyssa-Layne/e/B00KP1Y5BY

  Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8280977.Lyssa_Layne

  Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/lyssa-layne

  OTHER BOOKS BY LYSSA LAYNE

  The Right Pitch

  Loved by the Linebacker

  Fear of Striking Out

  Another At Bat

  Until You Fall In Love

  Everybody’s After Love

  My Favorite What If

  Holding the Other

  My Calling

  Unfinished Business

  Catch My Heart: A Valentine’s Day Collection

  Love & Famiglia: The DiDominzio Novellas

  Burning Lovesick Series:

  Love is a Fire

  Burst Into Flame

  Love Can’t Save You

  Sneak peek of the next #meetcute book Fortune’s Kiss by Anne Conley

  When London was fifteen, a fortune teller told her she would meet her soul mate on June 23rd. The only problem is, which June 23rd? The woman wasn’t specific and only called him her dreamer. Desperate to find her mystery man eleven years later, London sets out to search for him but is waylaid by a mugger instead.

  Elliot has had his eye on the woman who jogs past the park where he coaches his nephew’s baseball team for the past month. When he’s the first responder for a mugging victim on June 23rd, she’s barely conscious. She’s the woman tattooed on his chest. He’s seen her in his dreams and has been drawing her for years.

  They’ll both sound crazy if they reveal their secrets, but they can’t stay away from each other. Elliot has priorities, promises made to his late sister. London’s trying to live a more intentional existence instead of waiting for everything to fall in her lap.

  Can they fulfill the destiny predicted by the fortune teller? Or will fate be undone?

  Fortune’s Kiss

  Prologue

  London had always thought carnivals were magical places, even when she didn’t get to go. But tonight, on her fifteenth birthday, the flashing lights and sounds of the fairway were enough to make her think anything was possible. Smiling people were everywhere, lending credence to her thoughts of the place fulfilling wishes.

  A lone tent sat at the end of the games, on the periphery, just beyond the dart throws to pop balloons.

  “What’s that?” Tanner asked, as she tugged on his hand to where the darkened tent, lit only by a lone purple bulb outside stood.

  “I don’t know, but I’m just nosy enough to want to find out,” she proclaimed. The enchanted feel of the fair had gotten under her skin like the odor of popcorn and cotton candy, but Tanner sighed, an exasperated sound she was well familiar with. He went along with most everything she said, even when he thought it was a bad idea.

  “Great,” he muttered under his breath. “Two teens disappear at the Carnival last Thursday. Witnesses say they were last seen entering a creepy tent.”

  “Oh lighten up.” As they grew closer to the tent, a fission of energy stole up London’s spine, as if the air crackled with electricity. She could feel it spread through like a tingle, and the hair on her arms stood up. “Can you feel it?”

  “Feel what? That chili dog after the sling shot? Yup. I feel like I could hurl.”

  She rolled her eyes and tugged him toward the tent. A pair of eyes surrounded by more hair than London had ever seen peered out at them from the darkened doorway.

  “The birthday girl has come to have her fortune read,” the woman stated simply in a voice older than time.

  Tanner froze, gripping her hand tightly, while a flush stole through London’s insides. The magic was palpable here, even
if she didn’t have the confirmation from the woman’s words. She couldn’t figure out how the woman had known it was her birthday, unless there were spies planted around the carnival that overheard something Tanner had said.

  “Come inside, and let me tell your future.” The tiny woman seemed to grow as she spread the tent opening wide for London to enter. She stopped Tanner with a wrinkled hand to his chest. “Not you.”

  He looked at London with pleading wide eyes, begging her not to go in by herself. Tanner’s hand stole out and fingered the feather in her ears, the pair of earrings he had given her. “She shouldn’t know that.” His voice was filled with doom and gloom, but London wouldn’t be cowed by his attitude. She only giggled and shook her head.

  “I’ll be right out. Don’t be a chicken. What’s she going to do to me?”

  “I don’t know. Eat you?” Tanner muttered under his breath as he shoved his hands in his pockets and took a step back.

  Inside, the tent was warmer than the November chill outside, but London couldn’t see a space heater, and didn’t think it would be safe anyway. Every conceivable surface was covered with colorful scarves, as far as London could see. She couldn’t figure out where the dim light was coming from either. The air was thick with something though. London could feel it. A sort of presence, or cloud, but it wasn’t oppressive. It was comforting, so she followed the lady deeper into the tent, which suddenly seemed huge.

  Her wide eyes couldn’t take in everything, it was an overload of textures and colors. As the woman led her to a chair, she tried in vain to see what was happening. Even as magical as everything seemed, she was looking for mirrors, a latch to something, or even a giant magnet, but nothing was visible besides the brightly colored fabrics everywhere.

  She sat at the small round table the woman gestured to, and watched as she glided over to a tall table and lit something smelly, wafting it around the room. It was incense, London guessed, but not a scent she knew. London couldn’t tell how old the woman was, not with all the makeup she wore. Her hair was dark and curly, and went down to her waist in a puffy cloud. She tinkled when she moved, as if she wore bells on her ankles and wrists, and London looked down to see she was barefoot, no adornments she could see.

  “Since it’s your birthday, I won’t charge you for your fortune.” The woman smiled, and her eyes glittered in the darkness.

  “How do you know it’s my birthday?” London couldn’t help but ask the question, but the woman didn’t answer. Instead, her hand snatched out and grabbed at her necklace, a platinum heart her parents had given her that morning. It had a small diamond in it, and London knew she would treasure this small token.

  “Close to your parents? The luck runs out of you in rivulets,” the woman mused as she fondled the necklace. London was frozen, not wanting to move and break it. She really liked this necklace, for its simplicity. It represented something to London, but she couldn’t figure out exactly what, just that it was important and she didn’t want it broken on the first day she’d gotten it. “You lead a charmed life.”

  When the fortune teller detached herself from London’s necklace and sat across from her, London breathed in deeply, waiting for more. She just knew this was going to be great. Her lips tugged up at the corners, and she wasn’t sure if it was nerves or excitement.

  A crystal ball sat in the middle of the table, and she stifled the giggle bubbling up as the woman caressed it lovingly, almost dramatically. London didn’t want to offend the woman, but this was a show, and she was eating it up. London knew this woman wouldn’t tell her anything life changing, because that’s not how this game was played. She would tell London something that would make her gush to her friend, who would come in and pay to have her tell his fortune, and she’d charge him twice as much. London may be a kid, but she wasn’t stupid.

  In spite of her thoughts, London felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise to attention while the woman lost her focus inside the crystal ball, as if she actually was seeing something in there, but it was far away at the same time. Her eyes glazed over, as if a cloud had fallen. It was fascinating to watch, and the butterflies in London’s belly took flight, swarming around.

  “You’re a good girl, but your destiny will be hard to reach.” The fortune teller’s voice changed as she spoke while looking at the ball. London studied it, and didn’t see anything. No lights, or clouds of smoke swirling around. It was just a glass globe. Still, her scalp crackled with goosebumps. “You will have many good friends. Like I said, you are lucky. And you will meet your dreamer on June twenty-third. He is your destiny, my child. Your life will change.” As she spoke, her voice seemed far away, and almost child-like, and London’s skin felt a stroke of warmth, as if someone were touching her. “Be careful with him, though. He’s a runner.” She sat back in her chair. “A beautiful runner,” she mused. “You are a very lucky girl, indeed. Success, fortune, it’s all in here.” She tapped the ball, as she looked at London, her voice returning to normal. “You just have to catch it.”

  With that she rose and walked to the tent flap, opening it without a word. London sat there, stupefied. It wasn’t like the woman had told her anything spectacular, but the energy in the tent was unmistakable. Something had just happened, and London couldn’t process it.

  Her legs shaky, London stood and walked to the opening of the tent, the air outside cooling her skin. Tanner stood there, a strange look on his face, as he turned toward where she exited.

  “Well? Are you in for a ton of money?” London’s voice got caught in her throat, and as she turned, she knew what she would see. The goosebumps were gone, the tingly feelings had stopped, the energy dissipated. She just knew.

  The woman was gone, the tent dark, as if nothing was there.

  “No,” she managed to choke out. “Let’s go ride the Ferris Wheel,” desperate to change the subject, she tugged Tanner along. She didn’t want to tell him. It seemed like a secret, sort of like a birthday wish. If she told, it wouldn’t come true.

  But that night, she marked her calendar for June twenty third with a giant star, so she’d know to be looking for her dreamer.

  The next morning, she took up running, just in case.

  **

  Nine hundred and seventy-three miles away, eighteen-year-old Elliot awoke wearing a thick sheen of sweat. He’d had the regular nightmares, the swirling images of deeds done to secure a bed or food, with his father’s cold, judgmental eyes constantly staring him down. But these dreams had been chased away by a girl, whose deep green eyes warred with his father’s, and won. Her golden hair had woven around the dirt and grime of the streets, cleansing and light. The purple feathers she wore on her ears spoke of a whimsy the serious set of her mouth denied.

  He pilfered through the backpack he’d been using as a pillow, knowing there were a few sheets of paper in it he’d rescued from the dumpster last week.

  Tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, Elliot struggled to straighten out the dream, separating the good from the bad, the light from the dark.

  Elliot’s life sucked, but he’d just found his sunshine.

  So he drew her, before continuing his wake-up process. He needed to hit the road today. It was time.

  At dawn, they were kicked out of their night’s shelter, left to roam the streets. Elliot and his friend Logan went first to the city’s transit authority to use the public restrooms and clean up a bit before hanging around outside the mall to wait for it to open.

  “You about ready to book it? I think this place has given us all it’s gonna, man.” Elliot and Logan were sitting against the bricks of the building, watching other teenagers mill around the entrance. They blended in here, and marks were prolific. The boys couldn’t do this every day, or they’d be busted in a heartbeat, but they came to the mall about once a week, looking for some quick cash.

  “Just need money for a bus ticket and I’m down.” Logan’s reply was, like everything, out of the side of his mouth, as if he never wanted peopl
e to hear a word he said. Logan had adopted Elliot pretty early in Elliot’s runaway existence, and Elliot’s loyalty to his only friend was unwavering. At eighteen, the boys were a ubiquitous pair, even two years after meeting. Logan was more mature physically, with almost forty pounds of natural muscle and a full beard on his buddy. Elliot was smaller, and could only grow wispy hair above his lip. He was convinced that if he had the means to shave every day, that would be different, but no way to prove it. So that was how they played things.

  When they were feeling particularly adventurous, they had a game they played on the marks. Elliot would pretend he was the prostitute, looking to swap sex for cash. Coy and innocent, he could play the part well. Logan would invariably swoop in and roll the John, and the two of them would rob the asshole blind. It was a dangerous game, one that wasn’t played often, yet more often than not, necessary to live on the streets.

  When the doors were opened to the mall, Elliot and Logan followed the horde of people inside. Most were elderly mall walkers, but there was an occasional young mother with a stroller, or the random single person there for a quick in and out shopping trip. The massive teenaged crowd would probably show up later, although there were a few for them to blend with now.

  Still, the security guard unlocking the door gave them the side-eye as they entered, silently letting them know he was keeping an eye on them. Logan rolled his eyes as Elliot sighed. Maybe this wasn’t the best place to get some quick cash for the bus ticket.

  They strolled around a while, cutting up and trying to be normal, neither of them speaking about anything important, yet both of them relishing each other’s company. For the moment, they were normal teenagers.