Paradise in Oblivion: a Lost in Oblivion Christmas Novella, page 1
Paradise in Oblivion
Lost in Oblivion 6
Cari Quinn
Taryn Elliott
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Paradise in Oblivion
© 2018 Cari Quinn & Taryn Elliott
Rainbow Rage Publishing
Cover by: LateNite Designs
Photo by: Shutterstock
All Rights Are Reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Second ebook edition: March 2019
First ebook edition: December 2018 as part of the Christmas with a Rockstar Anthology.
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Acknowledgments
Sometimes we make up fictional places that end up having the same names as actual places. These are our fictional interpretations only. Please grant us leeway if our creative vision isn't true to reality.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Bonus Epilogue One
Bonus Epilogue Two
Bedded Bliss
Oblivion World Character Chart
Quinn and Elliott
Follow Us
About the Authors
One
Ian
“I’m not sure this is the best idea,” Zoe announced.
I picked up the bags the kindly porter had set at my—our—feet before zooming off down the narrow, twisty road before us. It led away from the old rehabbed church that served as my brother’s and his wife’s vacation property on a remote island, the name of which continued to elude me though I was currently standing on it.
St. John’s? Yes, that seemed like it could be the one. I would attempt to discreetly find out while not acting as if I didn’t already know.
Zoe and I were relatively new to this whole relationship business. I’d swiftly realized that being in a committed union was like navigating a minefield. I was just gaining my footing on the battleground. Slow but steady.
I was also learning how to be a brother. Simon and I hadn’t grown up together. He’d been raised in California while I’d been raised in London. We were just beginning to learn to tolerate each other. Him more so than me. Though I’d had the requisite jealous feelings that came from being pitted against each other by our mum, I’d also had a bit of hero worship.
No part of Simon had worshipped me. To be fair, he’d had no warning of my existence, and my arrival had heralded a torrent of trouble in his life. Some intentional, a lot not.
But we were past all of that now. Somehow. I still wasn’t sure how we’d all made it through unscathed.
I even had my beloved Zoe by my side again, and we’d spent several months together this go-round with no bloodshed. Well, there had been that one broken dish, due to me shagging her on the kitchen table.
Some casualties of war were worth it.
“You’re in paradise, Magic. Why ever would you say that?”
“We’re in paradise with a heavily pregnant woman. An isolated paradise. Doesn’t that seem like a recipe for possible problems to you?”
I slung the bags over my shoulder and stepped to my Zoe, cupping her face with my free hand. I’d forever thank all the gods that she was a light traveler. “It seems as if you’ve become a worrier in your newly maternal state.”
She poked me in the chest. “Easy for you to be unconcerned. You men just drop and run.”
“I hardly dropped and ran. As I recall, I spent an entire evening on the process of impregnating you, and then returned to improve upon my work the next day and the day after that.” I kissed her on the nose.
“Yeah, and I’m never going to hear the end of it, as if you were the first man to ever become a father. I had something to do with it, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“Oh, I’ve forgotten nothing. And in case I do, I have this trusty little video—” I started to reach for my mobile, letting out a laugh as she batted my hand away from my pocket.
“Are we finally going to tell everyone?” She yanked one of her camera cases off my shoulder before I could protest. “Ideally, before I start to show and people think I’ve indulged in far too much Christmas baking?”
“You’re barely along yet and besides, your peanut butter thumbprint cookies are to die for.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere, buster.”
“Not even into the pouch of them you secreted in your camera bag?” I reached for it and she laughed.
“You see far too much.” Her laughter faded as a surprise gust of wind skittered some fallen branches and leaves across our feet. “What is the weather supposed to be like while we’re here anyway?”
“It’s a tropical island. Hot. Sunny. And I’ve heard there’s a nude beach.”
“You better hope there isn’t anyone with a long-range lens or else your dangly bits might end up on the cover of a magazine.”
“Surely I’d sell even more records. My dangly bits are a sight, are they not?”
She didn’t respond, since she’d dragged out her own phone and was flicking through screens. “Uh, did anyone check the weather report before we came here?”
“Clearly, you did not, as you’re just checking it now.” I let out a long sigh as she narrowed her eyes at me. Such lovely golden eyes they were. Even more so when she was annoyed. “What does it say?”
Rather than answer, she pushed the phone at me. An ominous looking headline in heavy black type made me frown.
Hurricane Bertha has new storm track, analysts say.
“Bertha is a truly dreadful name. I hope you don’t fancy it. My child shouldn’t have—”
“Ian. Read the damn article and stop thinking about the fruit of your loins for five seconds.”
As a wise man knew when to listen to his woman, I read the article.
By the end of it, I was…well, concerned. A little.
“Look, mate, this is my first Christmas with a family.” I passed her back her phone. “A real family, including my brother and my girl and my wee one.” I patted her belly and though her eyes remained slitted, they softened. Marginally. “I never expected such good fortune. If you think an itty storm that’s spinning away merrily over the ocean is going to bring me down, you’re wrong.”
“That’s sweet. It truly is. Though if you call me mate again, I’m not going to be responsible for my actions.”
“It’s a term of endearment.” I slung my free arm around her shoulders and guided her toward the place we’d be staying. A large holiday wreath made of undetermined flora hung on the door, festooned with a large red bow and various beachy items. There were shells and sand dollars, and perhaps even a random bit or two of sea glass. It matched many of the windows, which held panes of rainbow hues.
Stained glass was rather fitting for a rehabbed church. I hoped I didn’t start to smoke the moment I stepped over the threshold.
The one positive thing was that from the outside, it didn’t much look like a church. Oh, some steeples and interesting arches remained, but Simon and Margo had expanded upon it and built it out until the structure held only the barest bones of a holy gathering place.
At least I assumed there were no crosses over the bed. I wore one on my person, an item of personal value I’d had since I was a boy. Surely that was enough.
My brother definitely wasn’t one to have a religious altar. So, I should be safe.
“Yes, and so is jackass. Remember that when I call you it often over this vacation, especially if that hurricane comes anywhere near here.”
Chuckling, I tugged on her long braids. The ends were newly bright purple with some non-toxic for baby vegan dye, which reminded me of the early days of our courtship.
“Magic, do you honestly think even the heavens themselves would deny us our happiness? After we’ve fought so long and so hard to have it?”
“Famous last words,” she muttered.
But she was smiling.
Slightly.
“Hey, brother, you going to come out and greet us?” I called, hoping Simon and Margo weren’t indisposed. It was rather late in her pregnancy, but I doubted they would abstain.
I certainly didn’t intend to.
The door opened and I smiled widely, ready to greet my brother with a hug. He still wasn’t that affectionate toward me, but I considered it a win that he was even speaking to me. I had faith things would improve even more in time. Look how far we’d come already.
Nick Crandall stepped out on the small stoop and extended his arms broadly. “Welcome, friends. So happy to see you.” Nick’s smirk said volumes. He was about as sincere as a python. “Lila and I are so excited to spend this vacation with you both, along wi th Simon and Margo.”
I slid a look at Zoe. “Did you know your cousin was coming here too?” I asked in an undertone.
Her cousin who hated me. Fabulous.
Frantically, Zoe shook her head.
Lila and Nick—who just happened to be Margo’s and Simon’s best friends—had not yet gotten the memo that I was now considered a good guy. Yes, I’d had a rocky start with this group. I’d done some shady things and people had gotten hurt. I deserved every bit of their ire. But it was the holiday season, and we were turning over a new leaf. Or so I’d hoped.
Still, it was on me to try to pave the way. If I radiated good cheer, perhaps the same would be returned to me. To us.
At least until they all learned I’d impregnated Zoe—on purpose. Without the benefit of matrimony. Or even a terribly long courtship. Then I’d probably be on the, what was it called, “shit list” yet again.
I tried to smile. Regardless, nothing would ruin our pre-Christmas holiday away. Not foul weather or relations who wished me dead. “Nick, how lovely to see you.” I cleared my throat. “Merry Christmas to us.”
Two
Nick
An island Christmas was weird.
He was a California guy, well used to the month of December being hot and sunny. But he’d now spent just enough holidays at his wife Lila’s parents’ place in upstate New York that looking out the window and seeing white sand and pristine blue water and palm trees wrapped in giant red bows was unnatural.
Well, the decorated trees would’ve been unnatural regardless. Who did that?
“We should be visiting Mom and Pop with the girls. We would’ve been, if I’d known interlopers were coming before we got here.”
“Zoe is my cousin, and therefore, she is not an interloper.”
Nick grunted. Zoe was okay. Her choice of romantic companion, however, left much to be desired.
“We discussed this, remember? You’re supposed to be nice.”
He rolled his eyes at Lila and moved away from the window to flop on the gigantic bed. At least the suite Simon and his wife Margo had bequeathed to him and Li for the duration of this trip was spacious. It even had a hot tub. All told, the accommodations were pretty swanky.
Still though, who would be dumb enough to go on a beach vacation when their wife was about to pop?
Oh, that would be Simon. The guy was his best friend, his brother really, but he was also about as good at planning as…well, he wasn’t.
He sucked at it.
Of course Nick had been making fun of Simon—whether in reality or just in his head—since they were kids. Building a world-famous band together, Oblivion, hadn’t changed that one bit.
Now they were adding families to the mix. Nick and Lila already had their twin girls, who were growing up by the minute and would be in school soon, God help them all. But Simon and Margo hadn’t planned on having kids until their oops baby had come along. This would be their one and only. Unless the fertile Myrtles had more oops, which Nick wouldn’t put past them.
For now, there was just the one Kagan kid on the way.
Like…really fucking soon.
Ian, however, was a different story. He was the black sheep secret brother—The Days of The Restless much—who’d shown up and caused general mayhem along with being indirectly involved in some fucking scary shit that had included Margo’s kidnapping.
You’d think that would blacklist you, but nope. In no time after that, he’d been accepted into the warm bosom of his family.
Well, Margo’s warm bosom anyway. Simon was a bit more discerning. But not by much.
“I’m pretty sure I was nice to Ian. I invited him and Zoe in, showed them around, gave them the lay of the land while Simon and Margo were out cavorting in the surf. I even offered them a cheese plate, for God’s sake.”
Which Ian had refused, claiming dairy didn’t sit well with him. Nick suspected he feared possible poisoning.
He should know better. Nick would never want to do the jail time.
“Well, then, how dare I say a thing? If there’s cheese involved, clearly you were a saint.”
Nick ignored his wife’s smirk. “I’m just saying, I was more than cordial. I’d almost say I was pleasant.”
“And the heavens rejoiced. Though, um, I think Margo is a bit too pregnant to be ‘cavorting’, whether it’s in the surf or otherwise.”
“I can’t believe she’s still ambulatory. She’s literally the size of this building.”
Lila finished buttoning up her plaid shirt. That and a pair of fancy linen-looking pants was her idea of vacation wear. It was better than her usual suit though. “Shh, you’re terrible. Did you say the same thing about me when I was pregnant?”
“No, you were the size of two buildings, because twins.” Nick leaned sideways and snagged his fingers in the belt loops of Lila’s pants, drawing her closer. He undid two of the buttons she’d just fastened and pressed a kiss to her belly. “It’s my life’s work to get you right back there again.”
“Bite your tongue. No more twins. That’s in the marital contract.” She flicked her fingers through his hair.
When she didn’t say anything else, he tilted back his head and swallowed at the pinch around her eyes. He knew better than to say shit like that. Even playfully.
“It might not happen for us again.” She cleared her throat. “And that’s okay, right?”
Hearing that rare flash of uncertainty from Lila knocked him back a step or five, as it always did. She was so rarely anything but steadfast and unwavering in all things.
But trying to have another baby when she had a miscarriage and troubles conceiving in her past were a different story. And he wanted to sew his damn mouth shut for not knowing better.
Some things you just couldn’t make jokes about. Ever.
“It’s more than okay. We have the best girls in the universe. They keep us plenty busy enough.” He tugged on her hand and pulled her down on the bed beside him, shifting until she was half underneath him.
His favorite place for her to be, unless she was on top. That was also fine by him.
“You’re not just saying that?” She fingercombed his hair back from his face, looking at it instead of meeting his eyes. “I know you really want that one perfect son you’ve been fantasizing about since we started dating.”
“I was not fantasizing about a son when we started dating, honey. I was fantasizing about ripping your prim little skirts off and filling you up until I screamed.”
Lila was Oblivion’s rep through Ripper Records, and it had not been love at first sight. Or even like. On either side, though obviously that had eventually changed.
Nick was reasonably certain he’d fallen first. Okay, he had. At least his dick had gotten involved—and falling hadn’t been part of the picture.
His wife was fucking hot.
Even today, when she’d gone without makeup and her long blond hair was tied back and she wore casual clothes—for her—she was the most stunning woman he’d ever seen. The pale freckles scattered on her nose were just as sexy as her big blue eyes.
Shrewd blue eyes, that took exactly zero shit from anyone. Including him.
Especially him.
Her lips curved. “Thought I was supposed to be the one screaming.”
“Damn women’s lib.” He grinned and gave her a quick kiss. “How about we both scream? That works for me.”
“I like the way you think. Just not here.” She put a finger over his lips when he reached for more buttons on her shirt. “My cousin is in the next room. She doesn’t need to hear that. I don’t need her to hear that.”
“But what, it’s okay if Ian hears it?” Nick barely resisted a growl.
“No, let’s just go with no one hearing anything. And hopefully vice versa as well.” She shuddered. “Bad enough I walked in on them practically naked the morning after in the studio. I don’t need an audio soundtrack as well, thanks.”
