One Last Kiss Read online

  One Last Kiss

  Annie Rains

  USA Today Best Selling Author

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  A SNEAK PEEK AT FORBIDDEN KISSES

  A SNEAK PEEK AT CHRISTMAS ON MISTLETOE LANE

  BOOKS BY ANNIE RAINS

  About the Author

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the writer’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ONE LAST KISS

  Copyright 2018 by Annie Rains

  Ebook ISBN: 9781641970440

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  Excerpt from Forbidden Kisses copyright by Annie Rains

  Excerpt from Christmas on Mistletoe Lane copyright by Annie Rains

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  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  * * *

  Cover Design by Teresa Sarmiento for NYLA

  * * *

  No part of this work may be used, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without prior permission in writing from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  * * *

  NYLA Publishing

  121 W 27th St., Suite 1201, New York, NY 10001

  http://www.nyliterary.com

  Chapter 1

  Abby Sawyer was doing her best to ignore her husband, who was currently standing a few feet away. It was only the second time she’d seen Sam in a suit. The first time had been their wedding day. She wondered if he even remembered wearing it since he’d struggled to remember their anniversary for their last few years of togetherness.

  Her best friend Krista held her wiggling baby tight. Krista’s husband Noah, who also happened to be Sam’s youngest brother, beamed at their child from over her shoulder. The preacher was saying something prior to christening the child, but Abby hadn’t heard a word. She was too busy trying not to launch herself across the happy family and strangle her estranged husband. Some godmother she was going to be.

  The preacher sprinkled some water. The precious baby cried. Then Krista and Noah turned to Sam and Abby.

  “Thank you both for coming,” Krista said.

  “And for agreeing to be this lucky guy’s godparents.” Noah draped an arm around Krista.

  Abby smiled brightly, hoping her swirl of emotions was concealed. She hated Sam. Loathed him. Loved him. Absolutely did not want to share the role of godparent with him.

  “We’re honored that you asked us,” Sam said.

  Abby felt his gaze move to her, but she didn’t meet it. “Yes. Of course, we are.” She stepped up to kiss little Joshua’s forehead, and took a deep whiff of his baby smell before stepping away and bumping against Sam. He must have stepped behind her when she wasn’t looking. She jumped like he was a rattlesnake, then turned and glared. True to the stereotype of her red hair, she was quick to anger. And she wasn’t quite sure she’d ever forgive Sam.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  She shook her head, and then turned her attention to Krista. “I have to get back to the restaurant.”

  “I thought The Landing was closed for the weekend,” Krista said, cradling her bundle of baby joy.

  “It is, but I’m spring cleaning.” Abby only closed her upscale seafood restaurant twice a year on Christmas day and the first weekend of April. At the start of spring, her employees got the weekend off, and she got to scrub and polish everything until it shined. She’d always loved preparing food for others. It was her art form. But she liked to serve that food in a pristine facility. Sure, she had employees who cleaned daily, but during these two weekends, she did the stuff that sometimes got overlooked, like organizing the pantry and redecorating.

  Krista grinned. “Uh-oh. Little Joshua needs a diaper change.”

  “I think that’s the godparents’ job, right?” Noah teased, looking between Sam and Abby.

  Sam’s hands immediately flew up. “I don’t do diapers.”

  Krista shook her head while laughing. “It’s fine. I’ve got it. Are we still on for Monday morning?”

  Abby frowned for a quick second, unable to think when half her brain was occupied with resentment for Sam.

  “You invited Grace and me to The Landing for breakfast, remember?”

  “Oh, right.” Abby nodded. The Landing didn’t start serving until eleven a.m., but sometimes she was in the mood to scramble eggs and fry bacon. After working all weekend, she would enjoy getting together with her two best friends. It might be the last time they ever got together like this in the restaurant.

  “Should we bring anything?” Krista asked.

  Grace stepped up beside her, holding her own wiggling baby. Abby was happy for them, even if there was a dull ache in her heart.

  “Just the babies,” Abby said. After hugging her friends, she headed out of the church to her car. It was Friday evening. From now until Monday morning, she didn’t have to see another human being.

  Sliding her sunglasses over her eyes, she breathed in the fresh salt air that was blowing in off the Atlantic Ocean.

  “Abby,” a deep voice called behind her.

  She paused for a moment but didn’t turn back. She knew the voice. She’d been hoping to get through this afternoon without muttering a single syllable to him.

  “Abby,” Sam said again.

  Turning, she met his blue eyes. They always seemed brighter in the spring and summer months when his tan deepened and his blond hair lightened from his hours on the fishing boat.

  “Hi,” he said with a smile.

  It was the same smile that she’d melted over since the moment they’d first met in high school. She’d loved him so completely back then that she doubted she’d ever feel whole again without him.

  By the time she’d left though, she hadn’t felt whole with him in a very long time. Not when he came home late and didn’t bother to justify it or even let her know when to expect him back. Not when he’d neglected their anniversary for three years in a row.

  Not when…

  She closed her eyes, barring that last thought. Delving in right now would only slice open old wounds. Good thing she was wearing sunglasses because her eyes were suddenly burning.

  “I thought that since we’re going to be godparents together, we could at least acknowledge each other occasionally.” He paused. “With actual words, instead of dirty looks.” That smile of his faltered a little.

  She had a whole slew of words she could rattle off right now. Instead, she just said, “Hi.”

  “There. Was that so hard?” He folded his arms over his broad, muscled chest. Once upon a time, she’d loved to rest her head there and listen to his heart beat.

  “Yes,” she answered.

  “One-word answers. We’ll advance to two-word responses next week.”

  She didn’t feel the need to respond this time. Since her gaze was hidden behind shades, she cast her eyes down to look at his left hand. He still hadn’t taken off his wedding ring. She took hers off the night she left, leaving it on the pillow where she would never sleep again.

  Her restaurant was fortunately built with an upstairs apartment. She and Sam had designed the layout together. Abby had wanted an apartment where she could stay after those late night private parties that she’d planned on booking.

  The Landing was her dream restaurant, and for the last couple of years it had also been her home.

  Why hasn’t Sam taken off his wedding ring
? Yes, they were technically still married. Part of her was relieved he still wore the gold band. She resented that part. That was the weak side of herself that still loved him, despite it all.

  “Goodbye, Sam,” she said, and then turned back to her vehicle.

  “Two words. That’s definite progress.”

  Before stepping into her Honda CR-V, a small smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. Luckily for her, Sam didn’t see it.

  Sam used to dread these weekly visits to see Dr. Marsha Dumont. Now, he kind of looked forward to chatting with the marriage therapist.

  Yeah, it was a little odd that he went to marriage counseling alone. When Abby had asked him to go to counseling with her a couple of years ago, his response had been “hell no. We’re fine. We don’t need that crap.” That was about a year before she’d left. Little did he know he did need this “crap” after all.

  Too little, too late. It took two people to work on fixing a marriage, and Abby evidently didn’t have hope for fixing it anymore.

  Sam blew out a breath and headed inside the waiting area for Dr. Dumont. Within a couple of minutes, she came to the door and called him back.

  “I saw Abby today,” he began once he was seated. Then he proceeded to recant the christening and Abby’s coldness toward him. She’d spoken, but only four words.

  “Sam,” Dr. Dumont said kindly.

  She was maybe the kindest woman he’d ever met. He’d been raised in a household of men though. His mom had died in childbirth with his brother Noah. Maybe that’s why Sam had neglected Abby’s needs so thoroughly. Maybe he was certifiably clueless as to what a woman needed…But no, he’d known. He just hadn’t been able to give her what she wanted most.

  “You spoke to Abby, but did you really talk to her?”

  He folded his arms over his chest. “What’s that even supposed to mean? I just told you I did.”

  Dr. Dumont waited patiently.

  He blew out a breath. “What am I supposed to say? I know you hate me, Abby. I’m not sure why. Maybe my flaws outweigh my good points, but I thought we were doing okay. Happy even. Guess that makes me stupid in addition to being a horrible husband. Please forgive me and try to love me again.”

  He was well-aware that his tone of voice was sharp. Dr. Dumont didn’t even blink in its wake. Evidently, she was used to him by now.

  “You have to take ownership of your mistakes. You told me yourself that you came home late most nights.”

  “I was working and providing for my wife. That’s what a husband does. She’s the one who walked away from this marriage, not me. She’s the one who should be crawling back and telling me how she feels.”

  Dr. Dumont smiled politely.

  “Okay,” Sam said, when she didn’t reply immediately. “Hind sight is twenty-twenty. I could have come home earlier, especially on our anniversary. Maybe brought her flowers even…Look, we’ve discussed all this a half dozen times. It’s not going to change the fact that she’s gone, and she’s not coming back.” He pulled an envelope out of his pocket. “I got this yesterday.”

  Dr. Dumont’s eyes crinkled at the corners as she frowned. “Do I need to ask what that is?”

  He shook his head. “I’m guessing you’ve seen quite a few of these in your time.”

  Divorce papers. His insides roiled just like they had when he’d opened the envelope last night. After all this time, Abby had made her decision. She was officially done with him.

  “What are you going to do?” Dr. Dumont asked.

  He shook his head and shrugged. “If this is what she wants, I’ll sign.”

  “Is that what you want?” The therapist’s eyes searched his.

  He blew out a breath. All he knew was he was tired. “I just want her to be happy. Obviously, I never did that for her.” He glanced down at the papers. “If signing these is what she needs…” He pulled a pen out of his chest pocket. He and Abby hadn’t even lived together for two years now. This wouldn’t really change anything, he tried and failed to convince himself.

  Because it would. It would change everything.

  Dr. Dumont held up a hand. “You haven’t done the work I assigned you yet.”

  His brow furrowed as he looked at her. “What work? I’ve been coming here for months.”

  “You’ve worked on yourself as a partner, yes. But you haven’t spoken to Abby. You haven’t told her how you feel.”

  How he felt? He felt rejected, broken, lonely, like a failure. He missed her, loved her, and was pissed at her for giving up on him. Pissed at himself.

  “She won’t speak to me, remember? And it’s too late.” His gaze fell on the divorce papers once more. He pinched the pen in his hand tighter, working up the nerve to sign them.

  Their wedding day flashed in his memory. Abby had been beautiful, and yeah, she’d been happy that day. They’d had a lifetime ahead of them. A bright future full of all the possibilities that couples looked forward to. Some of those possibilities that they’d been hoping for, however, had never come to fruition. Was that why she left? Did she blame him?

  “I would hold off on signing those papers. It’s not fair to either of you to end things until you’ve talked about what went wrong in your marriage. And remind each other of what was right. Only then can you make this very important decision.”

  “Abby’s already made her decision, Doc. But okay.”

  Sam carried a heavy weight in his back pocket as he walked out of the therapist’s office. He hadn’t signed the papers—yet. Talking to Abby wouldn’t change the result. They’d still be living separately. But maybe if they talked things through, they could at least be friends when all of this was over. Was that even possible?

  She was alone at the restaurant this weekend. He’d talk to her first and lay his heart on the line.

  What do I have to lose?

  Afterward, he’d go back to the house he’d once shared with Abby, and he’d sign the papers. And that would be the end of their marriage. Not every love story lasted forever, no matter how much you wanted it to.

  Chapter 2

  Abby had wine, music, and good food—thanks to her own fine cooking. Who needed a man to have fun on a Friday evening? Certainly not her.

  Her hair was pulled back with a few strands hanging loose in her face, and her jeans and t-shirt were already a little dirty. This was her idea of heaven.

  God, she was going to miss this restaurant after she sold it. It’d been her dream long before Sam had helped her build it. But she was moving on, in more areas than one. Sam should have been served his papers yesterday. He hadn’t mentioned it to her at the christening earlier. It was as if he hadn’t gotten the memo at all. Or maybe he just didn’t care.

  She reached for her glass of red wine and took another huge gulp. She was on her third glass, which had done wonders for her mood. This weekend she was cleaning the restaurant from top to bottom, and clearing out the cobwebs of her emotional life as well. Topping off her glass, she headed down the hall toward the stairs that led to the basement. She’d decided to start there and work her way up.

  There weren’t a lot of places in coastal North Carolina that boasted basements, but when she and Sam had designed this place, they’d decided they wanted one for extra storage. Abby ran a Meals on Wheels program for the shut-ins in Blushing Bay. The basement kept a wealth of donated food items and non-perishables that she rationed out along with her hot meals. She planned on talking to the person who bought The Landing and making sure they continued the charity.

  Her wine swooshed out of her glass as she tugged on the basement door to no avail. She’d called Mr. Loftin, a local locksmith, on several occasions just to get it open because it tended to stick. She tried again, putting her full weight into it. This time, it swung free and, consequently, her wine went flying backward.

  She flinched at the distinct sound of breaking glass. Great. She’d get the mop when she was downstairs and start with this mess first. She flipped on the light switch and peered i
nto the basement. She’d always gotten creeped out going down there. It was a silly fear. It was just dark, even with the light on, and she didn’t do so well with confined spaces.

  Heading down the steps anyway, she mentally reviewed her to-do list and blocked out thoughts of creepy basements and Sam. Seeing him in the same church where they were married, and wearing a nice suit made her heart a little achy. That was another reason that leaving Blushing Bay was a good idea. It was time. Now that her father had passed away, her only family here were her in-laws—soon to be ex-in-laws once Sam signed those papers. She had her best friends, Grace and Krista, of course, but they were busy with their new families. And Abby could still visit. Atlanta was an eight-hour drive. It would only take an hour and a half by plane.

  As she came down off the last step, something scurried in front of her. She only saw it from her peripheral vision, but she screamed bloody murder anyway. She didn’t stop screaming until she heard a deep baritone voice barking at her from the top of the staircase.

  “What the hell is wrong, Abby? You okay down there?”

  She screamed again, this time because she was supposed to be alone in the restaurant.

  “Sam?” she shrieked as her eyes focused on him at the top of the staircase. “What?…How?”

  “I have a key, remember?”

  About that. If she was planning on selling, she’d need to tell him. She was technically the full owner of The Landing. It was her prerogative if she wanted to get rid of the place. And he couldn’t be using his key to let himself in once she did.