settled on her shoulders. "I would rather we start our marriage free of any past burdens. But if you won't, then know you have full access to my accounts, and continuing to let those bills run your life would be unnecessary. Either way, they're going to be paid. They are not your responsibility. They were your parentsâ."
A hot tear trailed down her cheek and she swiped it away, frustrated. "I just get so angry when I think of how hard I worked, how many years I tried and tried, and all you have to do is write a check and bam , it's all gone."
His touch disappeared from her shoulders, as did the warmth. Regretful, she turned, ready to apologize and instead found her attention on a leather-bound checkbook.
"I won't be writing anything."
"What?" she asked, his words playing over in her mind. "But I didn't go to the bank with you. I didn't ask or even give you any information."
He chuckled and put the checkbook in her hand. "We are two months away from getting married. All the things that can be done before the wedding I preferred to take care of. You signed everything last week, remember?"
"I remember you telling me you had some things you needed me to sign concerning our marriage and the estate, normal stuff. Not here's access to my fortune!" She flicked the checkbook at his shoulder.
"Not my fault you didn't read what you signed. You should pay more attention to what your signature lands on. I should have just told you that about the prenup and saved myself the hassle."
She hit him with the booklet again and he laughed, pretending to fend off her pathetic attack. "Not nice!"
"Will you take care of things now?" he asked, all laughter aside.
The soft leather case settled in her hand, and she nodded. "Yes, I will. But only if I can transfer what's left of my money from my account and send my paycheck here too."
He yanked her into his arms and then hugged her close. "Absolutely."
Caylie let the checkbook fall from her hand to the floor and returned his embrace. Resting her head against his chest, she reveled in the safety and assurance.
"I think we're going to be okay," she whispered.
He rested his cheek on top of her head, his hold tightening. "I don't think, Caylie. I know so, and that's a promise."
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About the Author
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Elaina Lee lives in the Deep South with her husband and their two boys, ages three and fifteen. Elaina began writing at a young age, when a teacher brought to her attention books didn't write themselves. In 2011 her debut novel titled Written in Blood won the Golden Rose Award for Best Romantic Suspense. Her other titles include, First Kiss, To Urn Her Love, A Very Southern Affair and her latest release, A Promise for Her Love.
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Also by Elaina Lee:
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Chapter One
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Caylie Abrams blew a chunk of blonde hair from her eyes and tried to position the overstuffed paper bag on her hip. Where the heck was her brother when she needed him? The windows were wide open, and her front door probably unlocked; he surely heard her pull into the drive. She'd only texted him eight times before pulling in, informing him she needed help with the food he'd eat before she had a chance to.
Knee lifted, she attempted to balance the bag on her thigh while she reached for the trunk. Even with her fingers stretched as far as they could reach, the tips just touched the edge of the door. The muscles in her face bunched together and she reached a little further. She'd grasped just enough to pull down the trunk when the bag teetered, toppling over and spilling oranges, eggs, and bread onto her drive. Seething anger rolled inside her chest as her teeth clenched. Great! Perfect. Absolutely wonderful.
For a second she considered throwing the entire bag onto the ground; almost everything was ruined anyway. But she still had some good food left, and she didn't have any money to waste. The oranges were still salvageable, the bread maybe. She set the bag on the now closed trunk, took a deep breath and
A hot tear trailed down her cheek and she swiped it away, frustrated. "I just get so angry when I think of how hard I worked, how many years I tried and tried, and all you have to do is write a check and bam , it's all gone."
His touch disappeared from her shoulders, as did the warmth. Regretful, she turned, ready to apologize and instead found her attention on a leather-bound checkbook.
"I won't be writing anything."
"What?" she asked, his words playing over in her mind. "But I didn't go to the bank with you. I didn't ask or even give you any information."
He chuckled and put the checkbook in her hand. "We are two months away from getting married. All the things that can be done before the wedding I preferred to take care of. You signed everything last week, remember?"
"I remember you telling me you had some things you needed me to sign concerning our marriage and the estate, normal stuff. Not here's access to my fortune!" She flicked the checkbook at his shoulder.
"Not my fault you didn't read what you signed. You should pay more attention to what your signature lands on. I should have just told you that about the prenup and saved myself the hassle."
She hit him with the booklet again and he laughed, pretending to fend off her pathetic attack. "Not nice!"
"Will you take care of things now?" he asked, all laughter aside.
The soft leather case settled in her hand, and she nodded. "Yes, I will. But only if I can transfer what's left of my money from my account and send my paycheck here too."
He yanked her into his arms and then hugged her close. "Absolutely."
Caylie let the checkbook fall from her hand to the floor and returned his embrace. Resting her head against his chest, she reveled in the safety and assurance.
"I think we're going to be okay," she whispered.
He rested his cheek on top of her head, his hold tightening. "I don't think, Caylie. I know so, and that's a promise."
Â
About the Author
Â
Elaina Lee lives in the Deep South with her husband and their two boys, ages three and fifteen. Elaina began writing at a young age, when a teacher brought to her attention books didn't write themselves. In 2011 her debut novel titled Written in Blood won the Golden Rose Award for Best Romantic Suspense. Her other titles include, First Kiss, To Urn Her Love, A Very Southern Affair and her latest release, A Promise for Her Love.
Â
Also by Elaina Lee:
Â
Â
Chapter One
Â
Caylie Abrams blew a chunk of blonde hair from her eyes and tried to position the overstuffed paper bag on her hip. Where the heck was her brother when she needed him? The windows were wide open, and her front door probably unlocked; he surely heard her pull into the drive. She'd only texted him eight times before pulling in, informing him she needed help with the food he'd eat before she had a chance to.
Knee lifted, she attempted to balance the bag on her thigh while she reached for the trunk. Even with her fingers stretched as far as they could reach, the tips just touched the edge of the door. The muscles in her face bunched together and she reached a little further. She'd grasped just enough to pull down the trunk when the bag teetered, toppling over and spilling oranges, eggs, and bread onto her drive. Seething anger rolled inside her chest as her teeth clenched. Great! Perfect. Absolutely wonderful.
For a second she considered throwing the entire bag onto the ground; almost everything was ruined anyway. But she still had some good food left, and she didn't have any money to waste. The oranges were still salvageable, the bread maybe. She set the bag on the now closed trunk, took a deep breath and
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