Authors: Harper Sloan
Five years later
“DO YOU KNOW WHERE YOUR brother is?” I ask Lyn.
“He said he was running to the grocery store,” she says over her shoulder and turns her attention back to her computer.
“What? I just went the other day.”
“Yeah—well, in case you didn’t notice the last time you were pregnant, you tend to eat a lot when you’re knocked up.” She laughs and goes back to her computer browsing.
“Well, where is your sister?” I ask.
“She has Evan with her at my parents.’ Something about giving you some time to rest before your husband got home and kept you up all night. I think she’s still scared from the last time she spent the night and you two kept her up all night moaning.”
I throw my head back and laugh because she isn’t wrong.
In the five years Cohen and I have been married, the desire we crave for each other hasn’t changed one bit. Which explains why I’m pregnant again. I swear he’s made it his life’s mission to see me pregnant forever. I got pregnant with Evan almost right after our wedding. Cohen was pretty proud of himself and convinced that it was our wedding night that did the deed.
I managed to keep him away from me long enough to not get pregnant for six months after I had Evan. Unfortunately, that pregnancy ended in a miscarriage that we both took hard. We waited a while before we tried again, and now here I am, pregnant again.
Cohen took a job at Corps Security shortly after Owen was born. He said that his dad was thinking about retiring soon and it was time that he learned the business. This was something I supported one hundred percent. I loved knowing that he was going to never leave us for any more deployments.
“What do you think about this one?” Lyn asks and spins her computer. I laugh when I see the tiny newborn dress she has pulled up on Baby Gap.
“You do realize that it’s probably going to be another boy, right?”
“No way, Dani! I’m going to get my girl, dammit. You hear that, baby? You better be a girl.”
“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work that way, Lyn,” I laugh.
She gives me a hard look and turns back to her computer. I roll my eyes and stand up, walking around until I find my phone and dial Cohen’s number.
He picks up almost immediately. “Hey, Dani-girl.”
“Where are you?”
“Owen wanted to go find ninjas, so we’re in the back lot—looking for ninjas.” He explains it like that should make all the sense in the world.
“And why are you looking for ninjas?”
“Because he wanted to fight them,” Cohen says.
“Is that supposed to make any sense to me, baby?”
“Nope, probably not. But it makes sense to us and that’s all that matters. Plus, he started asking about the earring in my cock again today and there is only so much I can take, Dani-girl. It was mission ‘divert and distract’ this morning.”
The second he stops talking, I throw my head back and laugh.
Since the day Owen walked in on a naked Cohen and got a good look at his hardware, he hasn’t stopped for a second. All he talks about is those damn earrings in his daddy’s cock. Which is something Cohen’s parents think is hilarious. Cohen, not so much.
“Hurry home, baby. I miss you.”
“You just saw me an hour ago.” He laughs.
“So? I miss you.”
“See you soon, my heart.”
“Every time I close my eyes.” I smile.
An hour later, I’m sitting on the back deck with Lyn, who is still looking up baby clothes, when I hear a rustling in the leaves. I stand and move to the railing, and when I see my two big boys walking towards the house, my smile goes from normal to wonky.
Cohen has Owen on his shoulder, Owen’s little fist holding tight to his father’s hair, and behind both of them flaps their matching capes.
My heroes.
My unexpected beautiful fate.
Cohen looks up, gives me a wink, and taps Owen’s knee with the hand that’s resting there. Owen looks up and gives me the biggest toothy grin.
“Mama! We faught awel does bad guys!”
“All of the bad guys? I’m so proud of you, my handsome man.”
“I wuv you!” he yells.
I look down at his face and smile. “And I you, son.”
They climb the stairs, and Owen drops from his father’s shoulders and rushes to his aunt’s side. I walk over to my husband, wrap my arms around him, and give him a deep kiss.
“I love you,” I tell him.
“And I you, my Dani-girl.”
THE END
Keep reading for a preview of
Jaded Hearts,
book 1 in the Loaded Replay series.
Prologue
Signing with the record company of our dreams should have been the best thing that ever happened to us. And it was . . . for a short while. While the glitz and glamour of the fame’s promise was shining as bright as our stage lights we could forget where we came from and live in the glory. The money bought us every happiness we ever craved. Those false securities that you think will make your life better. The instant friends, lovers—you name it-would do whatever we asked just to spend a second in our presence.
We had it all.
The only problem was when we had those quiet moments in between the insanity. When we were slapped in the face with the reality that all we really had—all we could count on—was each other.
My brother, Weston, is the only constant I’ve ever had in my life. He’s the person that I know will never let me down and will always be my biggest support. We grew up with parents that hated us. Really . . . it sounds ridiculous, the notion that parents could hate their children, but ours do. They made no secret of it when we were younger. And continue to attempt to pick at our very souls like the vultures that they are.
My earliest memory of them is somewhere around third or fourth grade when they would scream at us about how we ruined it all for them. How
they
were on the edge of fame and then we came along and it all went down hill. We were essentially their bad luck.
When we hit middle school it got worse, but only because they knew that they could leave us for long periods and we wouldn’t die.
Our parents, like us, were born to be stars . . . or at least they assumed they were and they had no qualms about reminding us that fact daily. Unfortunately for them, they lacked the drive and ambition to never back down until they had everything they ever wanted. The first challenge that was thrown in their path they decided to take the low road full of scavengers and sinners.
Like I said, vultures through and through.
Our dad knocked up mom in the early eighties, when big hair rock bands were all the rage and
theirs
was seconds away from signing the record deal that would make their careers.
Then they found out about us.
The twins that ruined it all.
And all those long nights performing in whatever local hole they could find, bouncing from town to town just waiting for their big break was washed away.
Mom was no longer the singer that men would lust over. Not when we ruined her body. And our dad was so deep in the bottle I’m not sure he realized he was swimming in it.
And when the band fell apart, they decided hating us was almost easier than hating each other. They had a common goal in their blame and right or wrong, to them we would never be anything other than a reminder of why they aren’t living their dream.
Their band mates obviously didn’t share the same bond that Weston and I have with Jamison and Luke. God forbid I ever found myself in a position like that they would band together and the show would go on. Because for us, this is it. This is our future’s promise of a better life and even if for me it’s starting to look like more of a curse than a promise, it’s something that we would die before we gave up.
Unfortunately for me, I’m pretty sure that there are a few people that would love to make that happen.
Who am I?
I’m Wrenlee Davenport, lead singer of Loaded Replay, and I’ve learned the hard way that there is plenty of people in the world that would love to have a piece of me, but they don’t give one shit about the person behind the voice.
They see the persona. The
fake
me that the record label loves to market as the sexy singer with the voice of a saint, but for me—I’m probably always going to be that stupid little girl that believes that my prince charming will come riding in on his black horse—because really, black horses are so much more badass than white ones—and prove to me that every little jaded piece of my heart is worth loving.
And
he
will love me for me. For
Wren.
And not the
Wrenlee
that has more times than I care to admit has to drink herself stupid just to face this fucking life I’m living.
Yeah . . . fame and fortune is far from everything I ever dreamed it was.
It’s my own personal hell and I pray that there’s something or someone out there that can prove to me that the world isn’t screwed because the majority of humanity is too busy licking the windows on the outside to see the beauty behind it. All they care about is what’s at face value when what matters is skin deep.
I should feel bad for prince charming. My knight in tarnished armor. Because he’ll have one giant battle on his hands to make me believe that there might be someone left out there that doesn’t just want a piece of me.
Release date for
Jaded Hearts
is tentatively set for early Spring.
TO MY FAMILY—for putting up with me when I get insane and jump into my head for weeks at a time. For putting up with me leaving for Starbucks for HOURS and then not going to bed at night. And to my husband for making sure the kids are still alive when I come out of my head and rejoin you guys.
To my amazing readers.
For your endless support and love for the worlds I bring you.
And the men that dominate them.
For loving my females just as much as you love those sexy alpha males.
And of course, for just being you and putting a smile on my face.
Love that can last a lifetime on carefully placed building blocks.
To my amazing support system, friends, daily motivators . . . you get the point. Ella, Rochelle, Crystal, and Tessa. I would probably die without you ladies. Well, I might not die—but I would be lonely as hell. A HUGE thank you to Ro and Ella for reading UF while I was writing and for all the feedback.
Kelly, Andee, and Felicia. You ladies have become three of my bestestestest friends in the world. I am so blessed for everything you guys do and continue to do.
Ellie—YOU, my dear, rock my world. Not only did you bring me the beautifully perfect models that are 100% Cohen and Dani, but you are an editing queen and I’m so thankful that you took on my world. I can’t wait for many more books to come with you!
Sommer—I’m really not sure what I can say here that means more than thank you. You gave me Cohen and Dani in a way that made me think you were in my head. I adore you.
Stacey—My books would be terribly plain without you. Every little detail and touch that you put into them to makes them shine is phenomenal. I’m so thankful to you and all that you do for me (and my books.)