Ava knows who Jimmy O'Brien is - her first love and soulmate. Forced to spend time apart, Ava and Jim deal with their trust issues and insecurities.
When the lovers finally reunite and resolve to fight for each other, their fragile happiness is put...
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January
Nostalgia assaulted me as I stared at the snowfall out of the window of my study in the Victorian. I doubted I’d ever not associate winter with meeting Jim, and although this New Year’s Eve would be the second with him by my side, I was just as excited. A bit nervous, too, since Harper and Dad would spend the holiday with us, and they hadn’t seen the house yet.
Footsteps thudded in the hallway, and the door to the study opened. Butterflies tickled the inside of my stomach when Jim hugged my shoulders and planted a kiss on the top of my head. “Don’t you think it’s time for a break?”
“Yeah,” I said, glancing at the fifth chapter of my new novel on my computer screen. “I was wrapping up the scene.”
And failing to make progress because of another rejection from an agent I got—rejection number twenty, a late Christmas gift. The email tab was there, and Jim was observant. My suspicions of him knowing were confirmed when he pressed his lips to my cheek.
“Good things take time, baby. Don’t let it bring you down.”
I saved the document and closed it. “I won’t,” I said, standing. “Promise. I just hoped at least someone would ask for more pages or explain why they don’t think I’m a good fit.”
“Well.” Jim shrugged. “If it makes you feel better, the labels we sent our demo to at first didn’t bother with that, either. And then one of the biggest in the country wanted our music. Sometimes what you need is time, and sometimes a change of strategy.”
My strategy entailed trying to stop overthinking as soon as I finished writing each day. Today was no exception - I refused to be sad on the last day of the year.
“Come on.” Jim wrapped his arm around me, nodding toward the doorway. “I’m almost done getting the appetizers ready. Your dad texted they were on their way.”
Panic shot through me. “Already?”
“Yep. I’ll be downstairs. Don’t rush.”
It was easy for Jim to say that when he was already dressed. His hair was styled too, unlike mine.
I darted to our room and speed-showered in the en-suite. When I was finishing applying my makeup, familiar voices rose downstairs. I slipped into the red dress I bought for the occasion and put on a pair of earrings Jim got me for Christmas when a knock broke the quiet.
“Pumpkin, may I?”
I glanced around the room to make sure nothing I wouldn’t want Dad to see was on display and flung the door open.
“Wow.” Dad grinned. “You manage to be more beautiful each time I see you.”
I stepped into his open arms. “That’s because we don’t see each other as often as before.”
