Dedicated to the One I Love, page 22
“Joe, I can’t believe this.” Abbie stomped her foot.
“I thought we’d have a chance to talk face-to-face.” Joe scrubbed his hand across his jaw. “This isn’t what I wanted with Kylie.”
“What do you want?”
“More than this.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means this conversation is over.”
“Joe, that’s rude.”
“I’m sorry, Abbie. I’ve got something to do.” He hugged her, forcing Abbie to hold her soda can over her head. “Thanks for talking some sense into me. And I wouldn’t mind you saying a prayer or two for me.”
“A prayer?”
“Yeah. This is going to take more than me to make it happen.”
“You want to tell me what ‘this’ is?”
He moved past his sister. “No time. You’re the best, Abbs.”
“You’re welcome. Anytime. Nice talk.”
CHAPTER 21
A bright white and red For Sale sign hung from a tall wooden post on Kylie’s front lawn. The exterior of her house had a fresh coat of paint, and matching white ceramic flowerpots overflowing with vibrant summer flowers framed her front door, which had been painted periwinkle blue. The stager had stripped most of the personality from the rooms of her house, but said she loved the color-coordinated bookshelves in Kylie’s office. Her desk was free of clutter once again. All signs indicating she’d faced dual deadlines? Gone. With an open house planned for the coming weekend, Kylie made certain the pristine ambiance remained when she went to bed each night.
“What a way to live, eh, Remington?” Kylie stroked his ears as she leaned back against her pillows. “Time to check email. Maybe there’s a book cover to look at.”
She scanned her inbox. Nothing from her publisher.
Wait.
She had an email from Joe.
Maybe he was finally letting her know he’d received the finished manuscript.
Kylie: The ending you wrote for Lethal Strike doesn’t work. I made some changes. Let me know what you think. Thanks. Joe
What?
Kylie reread the email. She’d sent the completed manuscript with the last chapters two weeks ago. Heard nothing. And now … now Joe emails her to say what she wrote didn’t work? And that he made changes?
It was so typical of the man.
Kylie group-texted Dylan, Leah, and Zoe, her fingers pounding against her phone keys.
You’re not going to believe this! Joe just sent me an email and said my ending for our book didn’t work.
Leah responded first.
What did you say?
Nothing. He also sent a different ending.
Have you read it?
No. I don’t want to read it.
Dylan: You should read it.
I wrote a good ending. Both the agents and editors loved it.
Fine, Kylie, but you can still read Joe’s ending. Did Dylan always have to be so reasonable?
Do you all think I should read it—even when I know I’m not going to like it?
LOL. Yes.
Yes.
Leah agreed.
At last, Zoe chimed in. Yes.
Fine.
Will you text us when you’re done?
Yes, Dylan. I’ll text you.
Two hours later, she still hadn’t opened Joe’s document. She’d cleaned out her inbox. Dusted. Eaten half a bag of white cheddar popcorn and downed two ginger ales. Showered and blow-dried her hair.
Enough stalling. She’d told her friends she’d read what Joe wrote. She was surprised no one had texted her to ask what was going on. Time to open the Word document attached to Joe’s email.
“What do you mean it’s best if we walk away from each other?”
“It would be safer for both of us. There’s too much at risk.”
So far Joe was taking the same approach she had. But he’d started with dialogue without identifying who was speaking. Hadn’t set up the scene.
“Would it help if I told you I was sorry?” Joe stepped in front of the door, blocking Kylie’s exit. “Because I am.”
Wait a minute. What had she just read? Joe? Kylie?
“An apology won’t change things.”
“It might—if you give me a chance.” Joe wasn’t good at this, but he had to try before Kylie walked out of his life. “I admit I had a bit of an ego when we first met—”
That earned a brief sound of Kylie’s musical laugh. “A bit of an ego?”
“I’ll never finish what I want to say if you keep interrupting.”
“Sorry.”
“We’re a good team. You have to see that. You challenge me like no one else ever has, and yet, I know you believe in me too.”
“I do.” Kylie covered her mouth with her hand. “Sorry.”
“I’ve never met anyone like you, Kylie. I’m sorry if that sounds like a cliché. It sounded a lot better when I practiced this.”
“You practiced this?”
“I wrote it down. Deleted it. Started all over again.” Joe rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry I acted like I didn’t trust you.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does. I know you need me to trust you. And I do. Please don’t walk away from what we could have together.”
“There’s no future for us, Joe.”
“What would you say if I kissed you again?”
“You’re not kissing me—”
“I want to.” Joe stepped closer. “I haven’t forgotten our kiss on your birthday.”
“I have.”
“Then let me remind you.”
Kylie pushed her computer off her lap, stumbling up from her bed.
What did Joe Edwards think he was doing? Taking Remington and Evangeline’s scene and turning it into something between the two of them. Saying he thought they had a future together. Apologizing. Saying … writing that he wanted to kiss her again?
…
Why was someone ringing his doorbell at ten-thirty at night?
Joe fast-stepped down the stairs from his bedroom. The bell pealed again. And now the unknown person was pounding on his door. He ran down the hallway and hauled the door open before whoever was outside could start pounding again. “Kylie?”
She stood in the yellow glow of the porch light and waved a fistful of papers in the air. “Explain this.”
“Hello to you too.”
“I said explain this.” There was no smile on her face, her dark hair spilling around her shoulders.
“I would if you told me what that was.”
“Your so-called ending for our book.”
“You read it?”
“Yes, I read it. You took out Remington. And Evangeline.”
Joe stepped outside into the cool night air, causing Kylie to take a few steps back. “I wrote about us.”
“This so-called chapter doesn’t make any sense.”
“I wrote an apology. About second chances.” He took another step closer. This time Kylie didn’t move, which was fine with him. “Did you get to the part about wanting to kiss you again?”
“Like I said, this doesn’t make any sense … ”
“I think that part was particularly clear.” He took her hand, the one that wasn’t clutching the papers. “Kissing you once wasn’t enough for me, Kylie.”
“Joe, we are not talking about kissing … ”
“We’re not?” He brushed her hair back from her face, allowing his fingertips to trail down her jawline and neck. “I’ll stop talking then.”
“Joe … ” Kylie’s voice was husky.
He cradled her face with both his hands, watching as her eyes closed right before he kissed her—a certain sign she welcomed this. Her lips were as soft as he remembered, her mouth as sweet and enticing. He slid his arms around her, closing the last of the distance between them as he savored this long-awaited second kiss.
“What are we doing?” She whispered the words against his lips.
“If you have to ask, I must not be doing it right.”
“Joe.” Her gentle laugh eased the tension in his chest. “I can’t believe you wrote that scene.”
“Got your attention, didn’t I?”
“Is that all you wanted to do?” She pressed her hand against his heart. “Get my attention?”
It seemed kissing was on hold for the moment.
“I meant everything I wrote in that scene. Now that you’re here, I can tell you how sorry I am. Try to convince you to give us a chance—in between kissing you again, of course. Although I vote for more kissing and less talking.”
“But did you like the ending I wrote?”
“More kissing.” Joe pressed his lips to hers. “Less talking, Kylie.”
With a soft whisper, the pages scattered at their feet. “I couldn’t agree with you more, Joe.”
“Finally.”
EPILOGUE
Nine Months Later
So this was how God answered a Fourth of July birthday wish turned to prayer.
With love. Unexpected love.
“Are you ready?” Joe whispered the words, his voice low, his breath warm against her skin.
“With you here, yes.” She straightened the collar of his dress shirt that complemented his eyes.
“No place else I’d rather be.”
This morning? It was about being Veronica Hollins, but at least she had Tate Merrick by her side, holding her hand.
“Veronica and Tate, I’m thrilled to have you here. And you’re married. How’s that going?” Chelsea Price offered them her familiar friendly smile.
She was married. Again. To Joe. A year ago, she woke up each morning to Remington’s pat, pat, pat on her face and never imagined more. Never imagined this newfound joy of life with Joe.
He’d always be “just Joe” to her.
“Want to take this one, babe?” Her husband nodded, indicating she should go ahead and answer the question.
“We’re having a bit of a challenge trying to merge all the his and her stuff. Of course, it’s only been two months—”
“Newlyweds with two new books that are both one and two on the bestseller list!” Chelsea motioned to the covers of Lethal Strike and Worth the Risk that switched out from the original photograph from their wedding.
“The deal is, as long as mine is number one, I don’t have to do the cooking.” Joe’s comment earned a laugh from Chelsea.
“Both of us being on the bestseller list is a crazy belated wedding present,” Kylie added.
“That wasn’t even on our registry.” Joe pressed a kiss to her hand, which allowed the cameraman a chance to zoom in for the audience to see her ruby engagement ring and wedding band. “My wife is an amazing writer.”
“We make a good team.”
Chelsea motioned to the copies of the books displayed on the table in front of them. “I noticed something interesting about the dedications in both books.”
“The dedication?” Joe gave a low, short laugh. “Man, I can’t even remember … I wrote that so long ago … ”
“Do authors forget their book dedications?”
Joe glanced from Chelsea to Kylie. “Yeah, we sort of do.”
“What about you, Veronica?”
“Um … now you’ve put me on the spot too. We’ve been so busy, both of us selling our houses, our books going through edits, planning our March wedding, moving into our new house, finding a church … ”
“The dedications weren’t planned?” Chelsea handed Kylie a copy of Lethal Strike and Joe a copy of Worth the Risk.
“What do you mean?” Kylie shared a glance with Joe.
“On the count of three”—Chelsea held up her hand, indicating they needed to wait—“read the dedication each of you wrote.”
“What?”
“Why?”
“One … two … three … ”
As Kylie and Joe read the words on the dedication pages, images of the pages appeared on the screen—
Dedicated to the one I love.
“Look at that.” Joe spoke first.
“The two of you didn’t plan this? It’s just some kind of crazy coincidence?”
“This wasn’t planned.” Kylie’s eyes filled with tears so that the words blurred. “But I … I don’t believe in coincidences. It’s more of a confirmation to me.”
As they switched to a commercial, Kylie stared at the words on the page.
Dedicated to the one I love.
God knew she was ready to let go of her grief a year ago. Ready to open her heart to love again. And then He’d brought Joe into her life in the most unexpected way.
Were they perfect for one another?
No. But love wasn’t about perfection. It was about learning to love each other better one day at a time. It was about trusting each other. And trying again when they failed. Love was dedication.
Dedication to each other, one choice, one day at a time.
The End
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Not to us, O Lord, not to us,
But to Your name give glory
Because of Your lovingkindness,
because of Your truth. Psalm 115:1 (NASB1995)
Writing Dedicated to the One I Love was a return to my fiction roots. I started out writing contemporary romance, took a turn to women’s fiction—yes, with a romantic thread in it—and then decided it was time to revisit straight-up romance again. It’s been so fun to fall in love with writing a romance again, all while my husband and I dealt with home renovations. I’m finishing this story hiding with our dog Jo in what we call “the kids’ room” on the main floor of our house while our kitchen is being torn apart. Not the easiest time to be creative.
I give the biggest shout of thanks to my husband, Rob, for supporting me after I announced, “I’m writing not one, but two books for 2023!” (More on that later.) He tolerates our conversations being interrupted by discussions of imaginary characters, reads my manuscripts, makes dinners after dealing with patients in his medical practice all day, and he also stars in my Wednesday Instagram reels. (Check them out!)
Rachel Hauck walked with me from the initial “what if?” of this book all the way to helping me write the back cover copy. Our daily texts and FaceTime calls saved my sanity and grew this book into a fun, romantic romp, while her prayers anchored me to the heart of God.
Dedicated to the One I Love is my first project with my agent Cynthia Ruchti. I’m so grateful she adjusted when I shouted, “Pivot!” and changed ideas about what I wanted to write. She’s a brilliant, trustworthy agent with a discerning eye when it comes to writing.
Courtney Walsh designed the oh-so-amazing cover for Dedicated to the One I Love. She beautifully captured the essence of Kylie and Joe’s love story. Courtney is also an over-the-moon talented author.
I’m so thankful for my editors Barbara Curtis and Lianne March. It’s wonderful to know I can trust my books into their capable hands.
I’m extremely grateful to Ginny Smith, the project manager with Books & Such Literary Management, for all her help publishing Dedicated to the One I Love.
I share daily prayer time via text with writer friends Rachel Hauck, Susan May Warren, Lisa Jordan, Alena Tauriainen, Melissa Tagg, and Tari Faris. Friendship founded in prayer is the best.
As I wrote this book, I once again found myself developing a group of friends for my heroine. I’ve been blessed with the best of friends. Women who’ve stood by me. Prayed for me. Held onto hope for me when I couldn’t. I’m so thankful for Kristy, Angie, Jeanne, Dee, Jeane, Therese, Gianna, Francie, Sandy, Sara, Faith, Pamela, Susie, Sherilyn, Cara, Casey, Robin, Anne, Renee, Mary, and Libby.
Fran Shaw has always been my Safe Harbor Friend. In so many ways she’s kept me going during some tough, tough months, helping me finish this novel.
For years now, Edie Melson starts my day by asking me, “How can I pray for you?” Her friendship is as faithful as the sunrise.
My walks and talks with my friend Mary Agius remind me to keep my #eyesonJesus. I’m always thankful for how often she said, “You go first” and let me talk about this book.
As always, I thank God for the many blessings He’s given me—and my family is the best of those blessings. I’m thankful I wake up each morning to God’s unfailing grace and lovingkindness.
Connect with
Beth K. Vogt
https://bethvogt.com/
Beth K. Vogt, Dedicated to the One I Love
