Freed (Bound Duet Book 2) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Freed

  Stephie Walls

  Editor

  The Word Lyricist

  Cover Designer

  Cover Me Darling

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Stephie Walls

  Note from Stephie

  Deleted Scenes

  Copyright © 2017 by Stephie Walls All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or any information storage and revival systems without prior written permission from the author except where permitted by law.

  The characters, places, and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  [email protected]

  www.stephiewalls.com

  www.facebook.com/stephiewalls2014

  Magoo ~ Now we’ll have time to play xoxo

  Prologue

  My fiancé left the room long before I finished getting dressed. Damn, he looked dashing in his tuxedo: impeccably groomed, not a single hair out of place, clean-shaven, and his eyes were bright as he told me he would meet me at the altar.

  Six months ago, when I’d gotten the call from Gray at the church, I’d never imagined I’d be here now. Chills ran across my skin as I swooned for the man whose last name I was about to take, and I thought about the journey that had gotten us here. I watched the door close behind him and prepared myself to meet my destiny.

  With one final glance in the mirror, I was pleased with my reflection. Lynn had shown me how to style my hair in a twisted formal up-do. Large, voluptuous curls hung conspicuously in random places softening the overall look, and little tendrils caressed my face in a delicate embrace. I kept the makeup light, highlighting my eyes and cheekbones, and finished my face with a natural matte lipstick. The dress he had picked out for me was even more perfect today with the sun cascading through the windows than it had been in the shop when I’d tried it on.

  The moment it came into view on the sales floor, I had known it was perfect in every way. I admired the details of the gown he held up. I’d never seen a shade of pink so soft it was almost white. The beaded straps led to a sweetheart neckline encrusted with the same beading. Sporadically-placed tiny fabric rosettes adorned the gown that cascaded into a full-blown garden of different sized flowers in the same delicate pink surrounding the hem and wisp of a train. The fabric flowed like a gentle breeze, giving it a light and airy appearance, perfect for a beach. My heart had ceased when he turned the gown so I could see the back; it was full-on gorgeous. The pièce de résistance, the detailed beading flowed down from the straps to outline the deep cutout V that would expose my back in the most sensual of ways.

  The dress now glimmered and twinkled with each movement, almost giving it life—just like I’d hoped it would when we had picked it out. It seemed surreal not to have anyone here with us for the wedding, but strangely à propos. My feet slid into the dainty heels, and I left the room to meet the hotel event coordinator.

  Once I found my way back to the lobby, the girl who had checked us in, still stood at the front desk. She spat her drink out when she saw me walk toward her.

  “Wow! That dress is phenomenal. I can’t believe how different you look!”

  “Thank you. I’ll take that as a compliment.” I winked at her with unusual confidence and continued toward my destination. The event coordinator was already there waiting when I arrived and extended her hand to introduce herself.

  “I’m Cindy, it’s nice to meet you. After talking on the phone, I feel like we know each other.” She walked around me in a circle, taking in the details of the dress. “Wow!” Her approval came out in an airy breath.

  A girl could get used to all this attention.

  Cindy presented me with a bouquet of small pink calla lilies wrapped in white satin ribbon. It was perfect—simple but elegant.

  When I dared meet her stare, she admitted, “I cheated. I peeked at your dress when the bellhop was taking it to your room before I met with you. I hope you like it.”

  Afraid to speak in fear of croaking, I nodded my approval. She touched at my eyes with a tissue to keep my mascara from running before giving me a brief description of what would take place.

  Nothing would have prepared me to see him standing at the end of a gazebo-covered pier that crossed over a white, sandy beach and stretched out into crystal-blue water. Sandals was a beautiful resort but paled in comparison to the waters of Ocho Rios. I saw him before he saw me and allowed myself a moment to take it all in. He held his hands clasped in front of him with his eyes set intently on where I’d make my appearance. My breath caught in my throat for just an instant.

  Cindy’s hand on my arm grounded me once again. “He’s stunning and completely smitten with you; you’re a lucky girl. I can’t wait for him to see you.”

  I simply stared at the man who would be my husband shortly after I reached the end of that pier.

  “Are you ready, or do you need a minute?”

  “I’m good.” My response was mechanical sounding like I was on autopilot.

  She giggled at me as though she’d seen this same scenario a thousand times before but never thought the magic got old.

  “Remember, he won’t see you until you come around the corner. Once you hit that point, the violin will play until you reach his side. The minister will tell you what to do from there.” She stood next to me until I took that first step.

  I didn’t know if she watched the ceremony or not. I never looked back—my future was in front of me. My focus remained on putting one foot in front of the other to ensure my heels didn’t get stuck between the boards on the dock. It never dawned on me that there would be people on the beach, curious onlookers who suddenly made me self-conscious.

  The slight breeze in the air was just enough to keep me from being consumed by the heat but not enough to cause my dress to fly sideways or my hair to fall apart. The moment my groom glimpsed me, his stoic gaze became intent, and the only thing that remained visible was his joyful smile. The violin played when I came around the corner, “Pachelbel’s Canon,” and my joy overrode my anxiety and nervousness. I never noticed all the people standing around after I locked eyes with the man who would change my last name. The world faded, and the only thing remaining in my vision was the path to him.
As I approached the end of the pier, he stepped forward and took my hand to walk the final few steps with me.

  We stopped just shy of the minister. My groom leaned over and whispered in my ear, “You look like an angel.” His voice strained as he tried to maintain his composure.

  The minister completed the fastest wedding ceremony in history in seven minutes flat. When we both said “I do” and exchanged rings, it was surreal. I kept thinking any moment I would wake from this dream. And the kiss took that dream from PG to X-rated. We knew none of the witnesses to our ceremony, and I’d all but forgotten we even had any when my husband laid the most erotic declaration on my lips. There was no peck. When the minister pronounced us husband and wife, the man who now wore my ring went all out. The intensity caused catcalls, cheering, and clapping from the crowd of onlookers.

  I was no longer Annie Teasman.

  My fingers laced with his, and he kissed the top of my hand before placing it on his arm to escort his wife down the pier. My face hurt from the smile that lingered through the ovation and back into the hotel.

  He didn’t look around to see who might be nearby, he hadn’t bothered to even pull me into a quiet nook. The man of my dreams let go of my fingers to cup my face in his hands. Gazing into my eyes, searching them with a smile, he bent down and took my lips, sliding a hand deep into my up-pulled hair. His lids slipped shut when he sealed our mouths together in a sensual kiss. When he finally broke away, his chest heaved, and he was short of breath. His forehead tipped to mine, connecting with me intimately. He enabled me to feel him, see his soul through his eyes, and sense the life his breath provided.

  Chapter One

  Annie ~ One Week Earlier

  Lynn: Your man tells me you’re alone & in need of a night out until he can get to you tomorrow

  Me: Booooooo

  Lynn: I’ll be there in an hour. Put on a flirty dress. We’ll go pretend we’re loaded at a high-end restaurant downtown

  Me: Really Lynn?

  Lynn: Hell yes. He’s buying & we have no spending limit. See you in an hour.

  Me: …ok

  Lynn was right on time. It was hard not to laugh when we reached the street, and I saw her dad’s Mercedes. “You really are playing this one up, aren’t you?”

  “Hey, it’s not every day someone else’s man gives you a carte blanche spending limit to take his girlfriend out on the town and entertain her. My dad offered the car, so I took it, as I did your boyfriend’s money. Stop worrying about it and have fun.”

  She slid her sunglasses down her nose and walked like Jessica Rabbit toward the car. Her fabulous ruby-colored dress hugged her cute figure in all the right places, cinching her tummy, downplaying her enormous breasts, and drawing her into a perfect hourglass. The chopstick-looking things sticking out of her hair might have been funny had she not looked like sex on a stick in five-inch, jet-black, Jimmy Choos.

  I didn’t want to deal with my hair, so I pulled the curls up into a knotted ponytail that made it appear as though I had exerted effort, but anyone who knew me, knew I just got lucky in the hair department thanks to Mother Nature. I donned my usual blush, mascara, and lip gloss before sliding my feet into a pair of silver pumps; mine, however, were not Jimmy Choos. But standing next to Lynn, people would assume I had spent as much on my outfit as she had spent on hers.

  The ride downtown didn’t take long in her dad’s S-class. I loved this car and the way heads turned when it passed. Lynn turned left on Main Street toward the West End—there was only one place we could be going, and that was Rick Erwin’s. By far my favorite restaurant in town, their herb-crusted grouper was to die for. My mouth was already watering when she pulled up to the valet. Two cute college-aged guys popped open both of our doors and assisted us each out of the car. Without even glancing at Thing One, Lynn dropped the keys in his hand and rounded the car to grab my arm.

  I caught a glimpse of the two of us in the dark glass of the restaurant storefront and couldn’t help but think we looked like a candy cane. I paused just long enough to take in the white, silk charmeuse, tea-length dress that clung to my bodice with one shoulder. Where Lynn was over-endowed in the chest, I was disproportionate in the other direction, and the fabric made me appear ampler than I was. When Lynn twirled us in a circle just before Thing Two opened the restaurant door, I laughed as the skirt rose mid-twirl like Marilyn Monroe’s. With each gust of wind, the unforgiving fabric gracefully flew back, revealing every possible figure flaw before falling to my legs. I felt gorgeous in this dress, and the heels Lynn insisted I wear made my legs appear to go on for miles.

  “Ms. Teasman, it’s lovely to have you dining with us tonight. Let me show you and your guest to your table.”

  The hostess was lovely, with blonde hair, well spoken, and dressed in solid black. I’d eaten here a lot, but not enough for anyone to know me by name. My father, maybe, but me, no way.

  “Excuse me, ma’am…” She ignored me and continued walking. I turned to get Lynn’s response, but she shrugged her shoulders as confused as I was.

  “You got me, girl. I don’t have a clue, and we didn’t have a reservation.”

  The hostess ushered us around the palace in the center of the restaurant. It was unique to Rick Erwin’s, and in my mind, that room led to fairytales. The floor to ceiling glass was the pièce de résistance. Diners couldn’t help but notice it as the tables on the outside appeared to be spectators to those lucky enough to be inside. The only break in the crystal castle were the French doors on the backside that allowed entrance into the magical land inside.

  Tonight the room was bustling with patrons, all dressed to the nines. They were boisterous and sounded as though they’d been drinking and having a good time.

  Lynn and I had the same thought, but Lynn asked, “Ma’am, can you seat us away from that group in there? We won’t be able to hear each other speak.”

  “It’s a full house tonight, ladies. This is the only table I have available.” She sat us caddy cornered to the French doors that remained open to allow people to come and go. The door faced a wall, away from the rest of the restaurant to curb the noise, but we were right at the edge—the last table before the hall which acted like a moat. No one was coming or going, and all that was visible was a wall of suit backs with splashes of color brimming the surface where the women paraded around beyond them. I watched with envy, hoping to glimpse the party goers as I took my seat.

  Lynn set her clutch on the table and pointed toward the ladies’ room. “I’ll be right back.”

  The bustle of the crowd behind me caused me to smile, knowing someone was celebrating something brought me joy. Laughter would peek out from the conversation every now and then, and it was obvious they were enjoying themselves.

  Just as I opened the menu, a hand grazed my knee. Dropping the paper to the table, preparing to curse someone out for trying to cop a cheap feel, I stopped with my mouth partially open. The sea of suits had turned, and all eyes focused on me. Unable to catch my breath, my hand clutched at my heart—I recognized every one of those people.

  And there, on the floor in front of me, was Brett—kneeling.

  My heart and lungs finally caught up with each other, but the breaths were deep, and the beats were hard. I sat in stunned silence, and Brett’s hand still lingered casually on my knee. The crowd was eerily still, and the silence was deafening. He hadn’t moved, but the light caught my attention as it reflected off the signature, pale blue box open in his other hand. The fingers that had clutched my heart now covered my mouth, and my eyes found Brett’s for the first time.

  He brushed away the tears trailing down my cheeks with the pad of his thumb and held my gaze for an impossibly long time. There were people staring at us from every direction, but I couldn’t bring myself to rush the moment or pull my sight from the flecks of gold dancing in his stunning green eyes. Instead of listening to the words I should have etched into my brain, I memorized the details of his irises sparkling back at me.
r />   “Sweetheart, I’ve waited thirty years for you.”

  “Yeah, you have!” Dan yelled from somewhere in the crowd, and everyone laughed.

  “You’re everything I could have ever imagined in a woman and so much more. I don’t want to spend another day not knowing you’re mine for eternity.”

  I continued to stare at him, not sure if he had quit talking or if he asked a question. I didn’t even know where he’d come from. I’d heard nothing he said, not one word. My eyes fluttered around the room before landing back on Brett.

  He then uttered the only sentence that mattered, “Annie, will you marry me?”

  I just nodded because words would have been so messy at that juncture. The entire restaurant erupted in applause and inappropriate hoots and hollers with my response. But I was immune to it all. Brett stood, bringing me with him, and crashed his mouth into mine. The kiss left my lips swollen and tingling—my mind floated in a proverbial drunken stupor unable to process what had taken place.

  With his forehead pressed to mine, he confessed, “God, I love you, Annie.”

  He pulled back leaving a peck on my cheek, in order to slide the jewelry on my finger. Through blurred vision and misty eyes, I saw the ring for the first time, or enough of it to know it was stunning. Large and exquisite. I didn’t want to gawk with an audience, but I noticed the details once I’d wiped my tears away. The stone was nestled in a platinum setting with a rounded X on each side encrusted in diamonds that seamlessly connected into the band. The tops of the Xs secured the diamond lovingly within their grasp.

  Brett tucked the box back in his pocket before raising my adorned hand in the air and loudly announced, “She said yes!”

  The cheers erupted again at an almost deafening level of decibels. He tucked me into his side, wrapping his arm tightly around my waist, and led me into the fairytale. I glanced out into the smiling audience surrounding my special stage before turning my attention inward. Everyone I loved was in this room: family, friends, some co-workers, including Topher, and dear God—Scarlett.