Two weeks later…
"Indianapolis," Slate says, walking onto the balcony of our hotel only to freeze when he sees me.
Neither of us wanted to go back to his apartment, even after it was thoroughly cleaned. I may not have panicked the night Wilkes was killed, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t if I were living there again. I’m sitting out in the sun with my nose stuck in a book. It’s not my normal romance read; instead, it’s a medical journal. My license to practice medicine has long since lapsed over the last few years. Now I’m playing catch-up so I can hopefully start treating patients again as soon as possible.
"Um, you’re blonde," he stutters out.
"I am." I smile up at him.
I went down to the hotel spa this morning and had my hair dyed back to its natural color for the first time in almost four years. The moment they turned me to face the mirror, I burst into tears. I spent a really long time pretending to be someone else, both physically and emotionally. But seeing myself with blonde hair and blue eyes while sitting in a public place hit me harder than I’d ever expected. I left with red-rimmed eyes and I was so embarrassed that I know I’ll never be able to show my face in there again.
I run my hands through my hair, uncomfortably waiting for his reaction.
"Jesus, you are beautiful, Erica," he says softly, and I know he isn’t lying just for the sake of a compliment. He stands motionlessly, staring down at me.
"You like it? I was worried you had a thing for brunettes."
He leans over, sucking in a shaky breath and kissing me hard while pushing a hand through my hair. He doesn’t take it any deeper. He just holds me against his mouth, savoring the connection.
"I just have a thing for you. You should have warned me about this though. We have things to talk about and all I want to do now is take you inside and watch this sexy blonde riding my cock." Yeah. He likes it.
He finally takes a step back before adjusting his pants and clearing his throat.
"Later. I promise. Now what’s this about Indianapolis?" I ask.
"Pack your bags, baby. We’re moving."
I jump to my feet, spilling my coffee all over the ground. "Really?"
"Yep. I just signed on the space for the gym. It’s not Ohio, but they have a great center that is dying to have you on staff. The director said you could start working with patients immediately as long as you are willing to have another doctor oversee you until you’re caught up on all your licensing stuff."
"Shut up," I breathe.
"I also found some houses that I believe fit your criteria." He smirks, obviously proud of himself. "None of them have the porch swing, but I’m relatively sure I can have one of those added."
He steps over the puddle of coffee and sits down in the chair next to me. Pulling up pictures on his iPad, he goes through the specs on each house, always starting with security. I can hear him excitedly talking but I can’t see anything as my eyes swim with tears. I lean forward, using my hair to curtain off my emotions.
I never in a million years expected to feel…well, normal again. I’ve been happy with Slate for a long time, but to be casually sitting outside, breathing easy, while the man I love searches through a dozen houses to make our home—it’s overwhelming in the best possible way. I only thought he gave me back all the pieces of my life, but the truth is, Slate just keeps expanding the puzzle, giving me pieces I didn’t even know were missing.
"Stop crying," he whispers, leaning over to kiss the top of my head.
I say the words I’ve probably said to him a million times since I met him. "Thank you."
He never responds, but he doesn’t have to.
Five Years later….
"Well, is she running a fever?" I ask Slate while thumbing through the papers on my desk.
"Yeah. The thermometer said 99.8."
"That’s not a fever, Slate." I roll my eyes and smile to myself.
"It may not be a high fever, but it’s still a fever, Dr. Andrews. I don’t think it’s just her teeth. Her cheeks are all red too."
"Yet another symptom of teething, honey." I laugh but grab my coat and head out of my office anyway. "I’m on my way home."
"Good. No more working Saturdays."
"Yeah, good luck with that. Only four doctors—we all work a Saturday."
He groans just like he does every month when I have to work the weekend, but he quickly gets over it. "Be careful, beautiful. I love you."
"I love you too."
Slate and I got married the same day we moved to Indianapolis. It was a small, outside ceremony in a gorgeous garden with only Leo and Jimmy in attendance. Thankfully Slate didn’t propose with a gaudy engagement ring, but I’m not sure I would have even cared if he had. Three weeks after Wilkes was killed, we were lying in our talking position in bed when Slate pulled out a very tasteful, oval-diamond ring. His words will live with me forever. "The echoes are gone, beautiful. And the woman left behind is even more incredible than the one I fell in love with. Marry me, Erica." Of course, I said yes.
Life as Mrs. Andrews has been interesting. While I recovered my identity, I lost my life of anonymity. We have managed to stay out of the public eye for the most part. Some people may know who I am, but I definitely wouldn’t say they recognize me at the grocery store. Slate still gets attention when we go out, but most people respect our privacy these days.
Eleven months after we got married, Adam Slate Andrews was born. He is perfect. I’m well aware of how cliché it sounds, but Slate is the most amazing father I have ever seen. His patience knows no bounds. Adam got my eyes, and because of that, Slate has never been able to tell him no. It’s safe to assume that Adam is going to be hell on wheels when he gets older. He’s a good kid though—at least for now. Adam loves his uncle Leo, even if he doesn’t get to see him every day.
It was a huge transition for me to leave Leo. In a lot of ways, he was the only true friend I’ve ever had. Slate originally disagreed with our relationship, but after a bazillion hours of therapy together, he now accepts it for what it is. My relationship with Leo was grown from such a dark place that nothing should have been able to survive. However, sometimes even the darkness can't contain the most blinding lights. I love Leo like a brother. And it means the world to me that Slate, while he doesn’t fully understand, accepts that.
The day before we moved to Indianapolis, Slate signed the papers to transfer ownership of the Chicago apartment into Leo’s name. Leo tried to refuse at first, but after a private, hour-long talk between him and Slate, he finally accepted. My goodbye with Leo wasn’t a short one. It killed me to leave him alone with all the guilt I knew he was still harboring. We may have been freed the day Lucas Wilkes was killed, but Leo never truly escaped. Slate insisted it would do him some good to be alone, and I can’t say he was wrong.
Leo’s life really took off after I left. Slate put him in touch with several of his Hollywood contacts, and he had no trouble securing his spot on the security scene. He’s good at what he does, so it’s not exactly a shock that he is successful.
While we aren’t looking over our shoulders anymore, Slate isn’t taking any more chances with me. Johnson was immediately assigned as my personal security officer. I would have preferred Leo, but he was busy starting up his new security company.
Our life was amazing, but despite claiming we only wanted one child, we both knew our family wasn’t complete. Just under a year ago, Riley Renee Andrews finished off our family. She is the biggest daddy’s girl in the world, and from day one, she’s had Slate wrapped around her finger. She got his dark hair, but her hazel eyes are all her own.
Slate spends his days at the gym, and he actually has some pretty talented kids. He’s done great things for the boxing community in Indianapolis. Above and beyond all of that though, I think he is finally happy. Slate loves boxing, and now he can actually enjoy it from behind the scenes and out of the limelight.
As I drive through the gates in front of our house, a sudden calm washes over me. Adam is running around like the madman he is. I watch as he giggles while stomping through the dirt. My eyes drift to the front porch, where Slate is swinging with Riley held tight against his chest.
"How is she?" I ask Slate as Adam careens into my legs. "Hey, buddy. Did you have a good day with Dad?"
He doesn’t bother to answer me before taking off again.
"About the same." He stands to give me a kiss, but his face is worried.
"She’ll be okay. I promise. It’s just her teeth. Remember when Adam did the same thing?"
"I’m just glad you’re home." He smiles warmly as he kisses my forehead.
"What do you want to eat for dinner tonight?"
"You," he says with a smirk.
"Jesus, Slate. You know, one of these days, they are going to understand you."
"It will be a sad day, beautiful. I know you love it when I talk dirty to you." He winks, and damn if he isn’t right.
"I’m serious. You need to start watching your mouth," I lie. I’ll actually rue the day when Slate stops talking dirty to me.
"Liar," he breathes into my ear, sending chills down my spine.
He hands me Riley, who is almost asleep, and jogs out to chase Adam in circles.
As I look around at our little bubble of the world, I can’t help but remember how this all started. Our relationship was established on secrets and lies, but in the end, it flourished through truths. Slate told me years ago that we all have scars, and our relationship is no different. It could have very easily been ruined from the start, but he fought for me—even when I couldn’t fight for myself.
"Hey, babe." I answer my phone to hear Erica sobbing on the other end. "What’s wrong?" I immediately freeze in the middle of the busy Chicago sidewalk.
"It’s a boy!" She laughs across the line. "We're going to name him Adam."
My whole body instantly relaxes and a smile spreads across my face. "Congratulations!" I say, laughing right along with her.
Suddenly, a tall blonde, fumbling through her purse and cussing, catches my eye. She’s gorgeous, but her level of anxiety is what really makes me take notice.
"Are you coming up for the baby shower? Some of the nurses at work are putting together a little something for us in a few months."
"Isn’t that for chicks?" I respond, never tearing my eyes off the blonde, who pulls out her cell phone, just to become more agitated.
"No. Slate will be there. You two can hang out while we gasp over baby clothes."
The woman I’m all but gawking at walks away, only to quickly turn back around and head in my direction.
"Erica, can I call you back?"
"Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. You can get off the phone, but you’re coming to the shower."
"Okay. Send me the info. I’ll be there," I reply just to appease her. "Bye, babe." I hang up and head toward the flustered woman. The closer I get, the sexier she becomes, and suddenly, I’m approaching her for a totally different reason.
"Excuse me, miss. Do you need some help?" I ask when I get close.
"God, yes! I’m late for an interview and I have no idea where the hell I am. The cab driver dropped me off here, but I think this is the wrong place. Oh, and my phone died, because really—that’s the kind of day I'm having. You don’t happen to know where State Street is, do you?" she rushes out then blows her hair out of her eyes with a huff.
"Yeah. That’s, like, two streets back. You’re not far. Come on. I’ll walk you there."
"Oh, thank you so much." She sighs with relief.
I extend a hand toward her. "Hi. My name’s Leo James."
"Nice to meet you. I’m Sarah Erickson."
Coming Fall 2014
Broken Course
Leo James and Sarah Erickson
Can two broken souls mend each other, or will their pasts be more than any love can overcome?
Get to know Sarah Erickson in
Changing Course and Stolen Course
Available now!
This book would be nothing without my betas. I can't stress to you enough how much these women keep me going. They listen to me whine when I can't figure out a character. They aren't afraid to tell me when something sucks. And most of all, they squeal with me on Facebook when I write something that works.
To Ashley, Bianca, Bianca, Tracey, Lakrysa, Adriana, Courtney, and Autumn, you ladies are the best betas in the world. I would be lost without you.
Then there are the bloggers. Seriously, you ladies are amazing!! I'm going to attempt to list a few, but let me be CLEAR, these are not the only bloggers I owe thanks too. So to every single one of you who has taken a chance on one of my books—THANK YOU!
Aestas Book Blog, Give Me Books, The Rock Stars of Romance, Red Cheeks Reads, K&T Book Reviews, Maryse's Book Blog, White Zin Bookends, Mixed Emotions Book Blog, Short and Sassy Book Blurbs, I Love My Ereader, The Book Hookup, Flutters and Flails, Biblio Belles Book Blog, Lovely Books, Nose Stuck In A Book, and Elizabeth Thiele (not a blogger, but lord that woman can pimp an author!)
To Autumn and Ashley: What can I say that hasn't already been said? I love you ladies. You listen to me ramble about my books and characters as if they were real. You deserve an award or a Caribbean vacation. I'll work on the latter.
To Danielle: Echo! Echo! Echo! I'm sorry. This book is not about a man standing in a cave. You will just have to get over it. I don't think I have the abilities to write a whole book about that.
To Jessica VW: Note to self. If you don't want me to spoil my books for you, you may want to refrain from drinking wine with me. Sorry about that. HAHA!
To The Vegetarians: You ladies are AMAZING! Thank you so much for reading and loving all of my books. I appreciate everything you do to spread the word. But most of all, thank you for the hot Nick Bateman pictures. That is how you know a good friend. The minute Nicky posts a new picture on Facebook, y'all are the first to share it. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!
And lastly,
To my Husband: You are the inspiration for every one of my heroes—even the really tall ones. I love you! MmmMmm!
Born and raised in Savannah, Georgia, Aly Martinez is a stay-at-home mom to four crazy kids under the age of five, including a set of twins. Currently living in Chicago, she passes what little free time she has reading anything and everything she can get her hands on, preferably with a glass of wine at her side.
After some encouragement from her friends, Aly decided to add “Author” to her ever-growing list of job titles. So grab a glass of Chardonnay, or a bottle if you’re hanging out with Aly, and join her aboard the crazy train she calls life.