The Millionaire Affair(50)

"Suggesting the list that brought us together. Which reminds me … " He  dropped her hands and pulled a folded yellow note from his pocket. A  Post-it note.

"It's not," she breathed. She'd never seen it. Had begun to question if it existed outside of her imagination.

"It is." He offered, the note held between two outstretched fingers.

She carefully unfolded the paper, revealing a list written in Landon's  neat, block handwriting. Her eyes flitted over the words, a smile  finding her face. The balcony. The desk. The shower. Then she gasped as  she noticed a new number-an eleven, written with a different colored  pen.

"The Louvre?" She blinked. Yep, that's what it said.

"Surprise."

No. He couldn't mean …  "But we don't have time for a honeymoon," she  murmured. "The new store just opened. And Caleb is so young … "

"Ginny can handle the store. And Angel's already begged to take Caleb.  If you aren't comfortable leaving him, he can come along. He might make  sneaking sex in the Louvre more complicated, but-"         

     



 

She threw her arms around his neck and crushed her dress into his chest.  She didn't care. It was worth it. He was worth it. "A honeymoon in  Paris," she said, hardly able to believe her good fortune.

Landon huffed a laugh into her ear, straightening her veil as she lowered to her heels. "I'm glad you like my surprise."

"I love it."

"I love you."

She'd never tire of hearing him say it. Never. "I love you. But the Louvre?" She made a face.

"It's a big museum," he said with a rogue lift of one brow. Before his lips caught hers, Angel burst into the room.

"Oh my lord! They're making out!"

Gloria was next. "Don't either of you have any respect for tradition?"

"Don't either of you have any respect for privacy?" Landon asked, his tone bland but teasing.

"It's time." Landon's dad, Mike, poked his head in the room.

Angel's expression morphed into one of comical panic. "Did you ever find your something blue?"

Kimber fisted the folded note in her hand. Plenty of blue ink on this  sheet of paper. "I have it." She and Landon shared a secret smile.

Mike and Landon hustled to the front of the church as the music started  playing. Angel darted out the door, gesturing to Lyon, who sneaked a  wave to Kimber before preceding Angel down the aisle.

Glo positioned herself in front of Kimber, peeking over her shoulder before she went, "What is your something blue, anyway?"

Kimber had tucked the Post-it into her bouquet. "A love letter from  Landon," she said. That's what the note was. A list of all the ways he'd  sworn to cherish, adore, and love her. And it had brought about the  most amazing gift of all. Caleb Henry Downey.

At the front of the church, Kimber released her father's arm and took  Landon's. Her future husband smiled down at her, sending her a wink as  the preacher started to speak.

During the ceremony, Landon's eyes locked onto the note nestled between  the bouquet of carnival roses, and she watched as he bit back a smile.

They were announced husband and wife, and when Landon kissed her, Kimber  sank into the warmth of his mouth, realizing in the midst of applause  and cheers that their happily ever after may never have begun if she  hadn't suggested the list. A list starting with one and, as long as she  had anything to say about it, not ending any time soon.





About the Author


Jessica Lemmon has always been a dreamer. At some point, after she  decided head-in-the-clouds thinking was childish, she went out and got  herself a job …  and then she got another one because that one was lousy.  And when that one stopped being fulfilling, she went out and got  another …  and another. Soon it became apparent that she'd only be truly  happy doing what she loved. And since "eating potato chips" isn't a  viable career, she opted to become a writer. With fire in her heart, she  dusted off a book she'd started years prior, finished it, and submitted  it. It may have been the worst book ever, but it didn't stop her from  writing another one. Now she has several books finished, several more  started, and even more marinating in her brain, and she couldn't be  happier. She firmly believes God gifts us with talents for a purpose,  and with His help, you can create the life you want.

Jessica is an ex-meat-eater, writer, artist, dreamer, wife, and den mother to two dogs.

You can learn more at:

JessicaLemmon.com

Twitter @lemmony

Facebook.com/AuthorJessicaLemmon





ALSO BY JESSICA LEMMON


The Love in the Balance Series

Tempting the Billionaire

Can't Let Go

Hard to Handle





ACCLAIM FOR

TEMPTING THE BILLIONAIRE


"A smashing debut! Charming, sexy, and brimming with wit-you'll be adding Jessica Lemmon to your bookshelves for years to come!"

-Heidi Betts, USA Today bestselling author

"Lemmon's characters are believable and flawed. Her writing is engaging  and witty. If I had been reading this book out in public, everyone would  have seen the huge grin on my face. I had so much fun reading this and  adore it immensely."

-LiteraryEtc.wordpress.com

"If you are interested in a loveable romance about two troubled souls  who overcome the odds to find their own happily ever after, I would  certainly recommend that you give Tempting the Billionaire a try. It was  definitely a great Valentine's Day read, for sure!"

-ChrissyMcBookNerd.blogspot.com

"The awesome cover opened to even more awesome things inside. It was realistic! Funny! Charming! Sweet!"

-AbigailMumford.com





Business or pleasure?         

     



 

Please turn this page for an excerpt from the first book in Jessica Lemmon's Love in the Balance series,





Tempting the Billionaire.





CHAPTER ONE


Oscillating red, green, and blue lights sliced through the smoke-filled  club. Men and women cluttered the floor, their arms pumping in time with  the throbbing speakers as an unseen fog machine muddied the air.

Shane August resisted the urge to press his fingertips into his eyelids  and stave off the headache that'd begun forming there an hour ago.

Tonight marked the end of a grueling six-day workweek, one he would have  preferred to end in his home gym, or in the company of a glass of red  wine. He frowned at the bottle of light beer in his hand. Six dollars.  That was fifty cents an ounce.

The sound of laughter pulled his attention from the overpriced brew, and  he found a pair of girls sidling by his table. They offered twin grins  and waved in tandem, hips swaying as they strode by.

"Damn," Aiden muttered over his shoulder. "I should have worn a suit."

Shane angled a glance at his cousin's T-shirt and jeans. "Do you even own a suit?"

"Shut up."

Shane suppressed a budding smile and tipped his beer bottle to his lips.  It was Aiden who'd dragged him here tonight. Shane could give him a  hard time, but Aiden was here to forget about his ex-wife, and she'd  given him a hard enough time for both of them.

"This is where you're making your foray into the dating world?" Shane  asked, glancing around the room at the bevy of flesh peeking out from  beneath skintight skirts and shorts.

"Seemed like a good place to pick up chicks," Aiden answered with a roll of one shoulder.

Shane tamped down another smile. Aiden was recently divorced, though  finally might be a better term. Two years of wedded bliss had been  anything but, thanks to Harmony's wandering eye. Shane couldn't blame  Aiden for exercising a bit of freedom. God knows, if Shane were in his  shoes, he'd have bailed a long time ago. This time when Harmony left,  she'd followed her sucker-punch with a TKO: The man she left Aiden for  was his-now former-best friend. At first Aiden had been withdrawn, then  angry. Tonight he appeared to be masking his emotions beneath a cloak of  overconfidence.

"Right," Shane muttered. "Chicks."

"Well, excuse me, Mr. Moneybags." Aiden leaned one arm on the high-top  table and faced him. "Women may throw themselves at you like live  grenades, but the rest of us commoners have to come out to the trenches  and hunt."

Shane gave him a dubious look, in part for the sloppily mixed metaphor,  but mostly because dodging incoming women didn't exactly describe his  lackluster love life. If he'd learned anything from his last girlfriend,  it was how to spot a girl who wanted to take a dip in his cash pool.

He only had himself to blame, he supposed. He was accustomed to solving  problems with money. Problem-free living just happened to be at the top  of his priority list. Unfortunately, relationships didn't file away  neatly into manila folders, weren't able to be delegated in afternoon  conference meetings. Relationships were complicated, messy.  Time-consuming.

No, thanks.

"I can pick up a girl in a club," Shane found himself arguing. It'd been  a while, but he never was one to shy away from a challenge. Self-made  men didn't shrink in the face of adversity.