Alexandra Grace

Alexandra Grace started writing emotional poetry as a teenager, but her biggest dream was writing a novel that made readers feel. That dream finally came true in her 40s when her first idea wouldn't let her sleep. She likes to combine her respect for military service personnel with her heartfelt approach to storytelling. All her novels are emotional, sweet, and steamy stories that give happily ever afters to healing veterans.

Alexandra lives in Virginia with her family and is a proud full-time public servant for a local government. She enjoys reading, binge watching action TV series with her husband, and being her kids' biggest cheerleader.

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Go My Own Way
My Submission

Chapter One

It’ll be fun—a seemingly harmless phrase I’ve uttered countless times in my thirty-three years on this planet. After voicing those three little words, my life changed forever. Twice.

I’m thinking of those two moments while staring down the perky cruise staffer, holding two silver necklaces out for me to choose from. The same two moments that led me to booking this five-day cruise to Bermuda in the first place.

“Excuse me?” I ask, oblivious to the purpose of wearing a cheap metal necklace with…I lean closer to see the dainty pendants hanging from each strand.

With considerable effort, he masks his annoyance with a smile. “Pineapple or number one?”

“Why would I wear that?” I ask. His eyes start to roll back into his head before he remembers it’s his job to make cruisers happy. I’m not happy yet.

“You only have to wear one. It helps other cruisers know your status.”

“My status?”

“She’ll take the number,” Liam says from behind me in line, drawing the staffer’s attention.

“Is this gentleman with you?”

“Yes. He’s my husband.”

“Then, shouldn’t you want the pineapple?” the necklace peddler asks, his irritation blending with confusion.

“What the hell do these even mean?”

“I’ll explain it to you later, honey.” Liam snatches the number necklace from the attendant and motions for another. With both in hand, he pushes me toward the bar. “Sit,” he demands when we locate two empty stools.

“This place is weird.”

“You picked it.”

“Martini,” I request when the bartender stops by, then pop my brow at Liam. “Wet, please.”

“And that’s why I love you.” He turns to the bartender. “I’ll have the same.”

He leaves to mix our drinks, and I lean on the slick wooden bar top to question my all-knowing husband. “So, how do you know what the stupid necklaces are about?”

“I heard a group talking about it behind me. This isn’t their first rodeo.”

“Okay. Enlighten me.”

He drops the two strands on the counter. “These tell everyone we’re available.”

“In case you forgot, the rings on our fingers say otherwise.”

“Well, I didn’t think you’d be interested in swinging—”

“Swinging? Like exchanging partners?”

“Pineapple isn’t just a fruit, honey. It’s a symbol and an invitation.”

“Eww.”

“That’s why you got the single symbol.”

“Are we going to wear them?”

The waiter slides our cocktails into place before us, and Liam passes him our cruise ID to charge our room—the state room on the cruise we’ll share as a married couple.

He takes a sip. “Isn’t that why we’re here?”

“What do you mean?”

“You and I both know we don’t have a real marriage.”

“Seems real to me.”

He signs and shifts on the stool to face me. “I love you. You’ve been my best friend since we were kids, but—”

“If I hadn’t gotten pregnant…”

“And if I weren’t gay…”

“There is that.”

“We wouldn’t be married,” he finishes. “Lizzie gave me a purpose I didn’t know I needed. Our marriage gave me more than a companion and quality time with my bestie. I don’t regret a minute of the last twelve years.”

“Me either. But? I feel a but coming on.”

“Is that a pun?”

A snort-laugh surprises me, and the liquor I’d been sipping flies straight up my nose, spewing out of my mouth. “No. It wasn’t a pun.”

“Good. But…Neither of us are happy.”

I hover over the glass, considering the declaration. When I voiced the first it’ll be fun invitation to a group of frat guys at a party my junior year at Harvard University, I only wanted to forget about my broken heart with whomever would have me. After five shots, four hours of fun, and so many orgasms I lost track, I got everything I’d asked for and more. Including sore muscles in strange places I still felt one month later as I hovered over a toilet with a pregnancy test.

My parents disowned me the second they learned I was keeping the baby, and that night, Liam proposed. He’s an honorable man, kind and generous to a fault, but his proposal wasn’t completely about me and my child. His parents also have impossible expectations, especially for someone who doesn’t fit within the old-fashioned box they put around literally everything. But he’d been intent on meeting everyone’s expectations no matter the cost. Including marrying his best friend and claiming her child as his own to prove it.

After graduation, he was given a prominent position in the family business, and he’s provided a beautiful life for me and Lizzie. She’s thrived, growing into a sweet, intelligent, and compassionate little girl. Sometimes, I wonder about the person she’d be now if Liam hadn’t helped raise her. It couldn’t design a better father for my child. I’m so grateful.

Our close and comfortable friendship along with Liam’s position at work gave Lizzie the family and life she deserves. Although neither of us would go back to change our decision, we both miss physical and emotional companionship beyond friendship. We miss being in love.

“Did you know this was a singles and swingers cruise?” he asks, bringing my attention back to the present.

“No. Hillary just said she had two free tickets, and that it was something we should do for us.” Hillary is the only college roommate I kept in touch with since Lizzie arrived. As a travel agent, she receives many free trips to experience and help with promotions, but this one she passed along to me. Now, I see why.

“She’s right. We need this.”

“So, this week, you want to pretend we aren’t married and see other people?”

The idea both excites and terrifies me. Being with Liam is safe. There are no surprises with him, and my former self is tucked away where she can’t cause trouble. I wasn’t raised to be careless. But when the cracks in your heart won’t heal, you’ll do anything to find a glue to hold it together. That’s how I’d been living my life since my first and only love walked out.

“I think it will help us figure out what we want out of the next twelve years,” he says softly, taking my hand.

“Sounds like you already know.”

He shakes his head, his eyes closing. “All I know is that we deserve more.”

“What about your parents?”

“I’ll deal with them if there’s a reason to, but I don’t care what they do to me. You and Lizzie are all that matter.”

Tears peak at the edge of my lids and fall.

“Don’t cry, baby girl.” His hand cups my cheek. “You knew this would come one day.”

“One day, but not—”

“Better we do it before we’re old and stuck in our ways, too crotchety to have any fun.”

“Having fun is what got me into this mess.”

He sucks in an audible breath, his warm palm leaving my face to slap against his puffed-out chest in faux offense. “That hurts.”

“Shut up. You know what I mean. You and Lizzie aren’t the mess. My life at the time of conception was.”

“But look at the delicious banana split that mess was crafted into.”

“You’re right.”

“The only ingredient missing is the cherry on top.” His smile turns wicked. “And it’s time to re-pop both of our cherries.”

“What?” I shriek.

“Girl, I know you haven’t been laid since we got married and my hand is exhausted.”

“My vibrator crashed two months ago.”

He laughs, the infectious sound sending sunrays through me as it always does. “See. We’re overdue.” He snatches his cocktail off the bar and raises it. “To a week of saying hell yes and following our heart…or a sexy piece of ass.” He winks. “To doing whatever makes us happy.”

“I want that for you.”

“And I for you. Now, raise your glass. My hand isn’t the only thing growing tired.”

“Right.” I pinch the stem of my dainty crystal glass and clink it against his. “To love and letting go.”

“Amen.”

We drain the remainder of our drinks and order another, content watching the hustle of a ship loading with potential for the next two hours. Before leaving port, we head to the top balcony and stand arm and arm as we pass the Statue of Liberty and out into the Atlantic Ocean, leaving our worries and past behind us.

_____

“I want you to eat dinner without me tonight,” Liam says as he stands in front of the mirror, looping his tie through his shirt collar.

“What?” I push the buckle on my sexy, strappy heels and study him. He’s so beautiful, tall and lean, with his short, sandy blond hair above ocean blue eyes.

“Great choice of shoes. They’ll match your singles necklace.”

“Why don’t you want to eat with me?”

He locates me in the mirror and holds my gaze. “On this trip, we’re not together, remember? I want you to have every opportunity to meet people without having to explain our situation.”

“It’s impossible to explain.”

“Precisely.” He smiles and I swear the room brightens.

“I love you.”

“Love you, too.” He spins to drop a kiss to my forehead. “I expect a full report tonight if you don’t end up in another man’s bed tonight.”

The back of my hand slaps against his thigh. “Same goes for you.”

“Oh. Don’t you worry. I have full intention of letting my hair down…and other things out.”

“Watch out world.” I stand to wrap my arms around his waist and sink into his calming embrace.

“I’m coming,” he finishes with a snicker. “Or at least I hope to be soon.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Thank you.”

Chapter Two

I’ve been sitting alone at my table for two in the main dining hall for over an hour. Three courses and two glasses of wine later, I’m lonelier than I’ve ever been. Everywhere I turn, couples wear their happiness like a three-piece suit or sequined dress.

Several single men—I know they’re single thanks to the shiny label hanging around their necks—strut by but don’t stop. I feel invisible, ancient, and stupid. I’m no longer a twenty-one-year-old who can let loose with a few drinks. I’m a mom and completely out of practice with today’s dating scene.

Taking my glass and the bottle of wine with me, I thank my wait staff and stroll to the top deck to look out at the blank world beyond. A shimmer of waves crashing against the boat, reflecting activity happening below, and the half-moon provide the only light.

I drop onto an empty deck chair and stretch out my legs. I can’t remember the last time I wore heels, but my aching feet are telling me it’s been a while. Being a stay-at-home mom and working remotely means I only wear sweats and gym shorts unless Liam has a work or family gathering, requiring my attendance. Back when we were newlyweds, we’d occasionally schedule date nights. But with his work demands and the pressures of raising a child, nurturing a fake relationship usually came last.

“Is this seat taken?” someone asks, stepping closer.

I look up and squint through the darkness, picking up a sexy cologne—mixture of pine and sage with a hint of whiskey. He shifts, probably nervous from my continued silence, and ice clinks inside a glass.

“All yours,” I say, putting him out of his misery. After all, this is a mixer cruise, and I should be mingling—not hiding from my insecurities in the darkest corners of this massive vessel.

“What are you doing back here all alone?” He sits on the lounge chair and props his elbows on his knees, his glass cupped in his hands. “There’s one heck of a party happening on deck six.”

“I’ll answer that if you answer my question first.”

“Go for it.”

“How did you find me?”

The dim bulbs dotting the walkway behind us provide enough light to see his profile when he turns to contemplate his response. He’s built like the baseball players I knew in college—strong but lean, clean shaven with neatly-styled hair, lighter where the sun touches the curve of his long curls. I can’t make out the color of his eyes, but even in the dark they look translucent, making me predict a soft blue.

“I saw you across the room at dinner. Impossible not to, in that dress. I was working up the nerve to approach you when you left, robbing me of the privilege. I decided not to let you get away.”

“Ahh. Little stalkerish, don’t you think?”

“I like to call it going after what I want. Your turn.” He grins, sweet and charming, piquing my interest.

“I was lonely.”

A line forms between his eyebrows. “So, you’re combating that by going somewhere no one can find you?”

“You found me.”

“Touché.” His smile produces the most adorable dimple. “What’s your name?”

Spinning, I slide my legs off the chair and place them between his. With the movement, his knuckles brush across my knees as I scoot to the edge, but he doesn’t flinch or give me space. Instead, his hand shifts from his drink to my skin, the bold move canceling the control I once owned. The skin-to-skin contact sends shockwaves through my deprived body. Primal need confiscates my brain, and before I can comprehend what I’m doing, I yank up my dress and straddle his lap. In the same motion, his lips find mine and meet my every demand.

I hear the glass hit the deck with a hard rattle, allowing his other hand to join the party. Mine have already found his chest, greedy and searching for more skin to touch. Two strong hands glide from my back to my hips and legs, and up to frame my face. It’s like he can’t get enough, and neither can I.

“Is there anyone in your room?” I say with a moan, arching back as his thumbs find the outer swell of my breast.

“I came alone.”

“Good. Let’s go.” My hips pulse over his lap a few more times, a promise for more if he follows through, and I feel his response. God, I haven’t felt desired since that one fateful night in the frat house. I’ve missed having passion in my life. Missed this rush.

“Are you sure?”

“How many condoms did you bring?”

“Plenty.”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Sliding his rough palms over my shoulders, he guides my arms to his neck. Strong arms wrap firmly around my waist, and he rises. My legs wrap around him like I’ve been here before, giving me the balance I need to take his mouth once more.

“Lead the way,” I manage as he sets me on my feet, “and hurry.”

We join two others waiting in the elevator and push the button for deck two—ten floors from here. I mentally scream at the time this slow elevator will delay me from getting what I want. My heart pounds inside my chest, adrenaline flowing like a river through my system and encouraging me not to hold back. The anticipation is addictive, and after being dormant for over a decade, the need rising inside me may erupt before he even touches me.

“Just to warn you,” I lean closer and whisper in his ear. He smells amazing and looks even better in the brightness of the confined space. “I haven’t done this in twelve years. I might need to use you for a while tonight.”

His eyes, blue as predicted, lock on mine. “Baby, I’m all yours for as long as you want.”

The elevator slows to a stop several floors down, and the original occupants exit. He turns to me, lust in his eyes awakening my body from hibernation. “Now, can I have your name?” he asks, his voice sounding more husky now that our purpose together has been established.

The door slides open on deck two, and I reach for him. “I’m Ivy.”

His strong hand glides into place, fingers instantly threading with mine. “Adrian.”

Ready to turn this little gathering up a notch, I walk out backward, pulling him along. “Nice to meet you, Adrian.”