THE CRITIC (31 page)

“Ah, but we were so hot we were using luck. I don’t think that will work for long,” he grinned.  This time he shook the condoms at her.  “Besides, you’re still not on the pill. And I don’t want to share you with anyone, not even a baby, for at least a couple of years.” He picked her up and grinned at her. “Ready for another round?” Her sparkling mischievous eyes gave him her answer.

Dropping Toreas on the mattress, Jared quickly went for what he was after. He felt the material hitting him lightly on the head, Toreas’s wonderful, beautiful, bulky sweater. A smile tugged at the corners of Jared’s lips as he thought about how it had felt to have his head buried beneath Toreas’s sweaters. Even though the other one was a bit larger, this one would do.

“I love your clothes. They’re beautiful.”

Toreas laughed and snuggled in to enjoy her husband’s touch. “Sometimes the things that are worthwhile are hidden from view,” she teased. She ran her hands over Jared’s back. “Like us falling in love. Who would have thought it?”

“Yeah, who woulda thunk it?” Jared said, his voice muffled underneath her sweater.

Toreas grinned and opened a box of condoms and dumped the contents on the bed. She was in agreement with Jared, she wanted to enjoy him also. A moan escaped her lips. “Ummm,” she whispered, “you’re right, we need lots of time.”

Epilogue

Two years later, Mr. and Mrs. Jared Stone were sitting in the packed auditorium at the
ARW national convention in Colorado. They had only a few minutes before the announcement of the best first book category.  Toreas Stone turned to her husband and kissed him lightly, not caring who saw her.

For their first wedding anniversary she’d given Jared her form filled out for The Purple Plum. The entry was the story of their love. Not only had she won but the story had been bought and it was now entered in The Bard, the contest for published writers.  That anniversary had been the turning point in Toreas’s writing. She’d thought often about how it differed from the previous one when she’d agonized over spending fifty dollars for The Purple Plum.

Now, because of her marriage to Jared, Toreas had fulfilled her dreams.  She’d kept her promise to her father and combined her talent with her beliefs.  Her father had written her a note after her book came out acknowledging that he had known all along that she could do it.

When she’d received notification that she was a finalist for the coveted statue, Jared had bought her a diamond studded charm. He promised to buy her a bracelet to wear it on after she won.

The two years since they’d been married had been the best time of her life.  Winning The Bard would be wonderful, but if she didn’t win she was aware she already had the biggest dream of her life fulfilled. She had Jared.

She noticed John Cain coming toward her, waving. She saw the muscles in Jared’s jaw tense with dislike.  She’d forgotten to take care of that little matter, so unimportant it was to her.

“Jared, stop glaring at him. John’s gay.” She watched as Jared turned toward her, surprise forming his mouth into a circle. She sat farther back in her seat and began to rhythmically stroke her husband’s arm, to assure him he was the only one she wanted.

Together they listened to the program, to the entertainment, and Toreas began to feel the apprehension she had thought she didn’t have.

“Don’t worry, honey, you’re going to win.”

Toreas looked at Jared’s smiling face and was still looking at him when a few moments later she heard her category called.  She refused to take her eyes from Jared.

Her name was called.  Her novel,
The Critic
, had won the annual Bard for best first novel. She sank against Jared’s massive chest, needing to feel him before walking up to the stage.  His lips covered her possessively, releasing her finally to walk to the stage and pick up her trophy.

Jared was waiting for her when she descended the stairs.  He lifted her in his arms and spun her around.  “You did it,” he shouted before kissing her again.

She could barely get Jared to contain his excitement and sit until the end of the program.  She prayed for it to be over soon.  She had another gift for her husband.

When it was over finally, Toreas stood rubbing her hand across the golden statuette, moving her fingers lovingly over the base, working her way to the quill in the figure’s hand.

Liz and Kelle were running toward them, excitement and joy for her etched on their faces.

“Wow, you did it,” Liz exclaimed breathlessly before looking over at Jared.

“You wrote your own reality and look what happened. You won The Bard.”

“So what are you writing next, how you won the lottery?”  Kelle grinned at her, then reached for Toreas’s statue, rubbing it in awe.

Toreas looked from her friends to her husband. “From now on I’m only writing what I know.” She paused for a moment, her gaze focused only on Jared. “Books about babies are always popular.”

She watched his eyes as her message sank in.  Then like magic she was floating in her husband’s arms, his lips pressed against hers.

“I love you,” he whispered into her mouth.

“And I love you. And, Jared, you’re going to be able to keep that promise you made to your mother after all. She’ll know, Jared, trust me, she’ll know.” Toreas Stone accepted her husband’s kisses wondering what would happen if she did write them a story about becoming millionaires.

The End

Author’s Information
:

Dyanne
Davis is an award winning author. She lives in a Chicago suburb with her husband Bill, and their son Bill Jr. An avid reader her love of the written word turned into a desire to write. She retired from nursing more than a decade ago to pursue her lifelong dream.

Dyanne has been a presenter of numerous workshops. She has a local cable show, The Art of Writing in her hometown to give writing tips to aspiring writers.

When not writing you can find her with a book in her hands, her greatest passion next to spending time with her husband Bill and son Bill Jr. Whenever possible she loves getting together with friends and family

A member of Romance writers of American she served in many capacities for her local chapter, Windy City, including two terms as president.

Dyanne Davis loves to hear from her readers.  You can reach her at
[email protected]