Wish Come True (The Blogger Diaries Trilogy Book 3) Read online

  Contents

  Published by

  Copyright

  Wish Come True

  Author's Note

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  A Note from the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Published by © KD Robichaux

  Wish Come True

  Copyright © 2016 KD Robichaux

  All rights reserved

  https://www.facebook.com/authorkdrobichaux

  Edited by: Becky Johnson with Hot Tree Editing

  http://www.facebook.com/hottreeediting

  Cover Photography by: Mike Fox Photography

  https://www.facebook.com/MikeFoxPhotographyBeauty

  Cover Design © Sommer Stein

  with Perfect Pear Creative Covers

  https://www.facebook.com/PPCCovers

  Formatted by: Author JC Cliff

  Chapter Headings Designed by: Author Danielle Jamie

  https://www.facebook.com/AuthorDanielleJamie

  COPYRIGHT

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the author/publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Wish Come True is based on a true story. I have tried to recreate events, locales, and conversations from my memories of them. In order to maintain their anonymity, in some instances, I have changed the names of individuals and places. I may have changed some identifying characteristics and details such as physical properties, occupations, and places of residence.

  FBI Anti-Piracy Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Except for the original material written by the author, all songs, song titles, lyrics, book titles, movie titles, and excerpts mentioned in this novel are the property of the respective songwriters, authors, and copyright holders.

  The Blogger Diaries Book 3

  by

  KD Robichaux

  The Blogger Diaries Trilogy

  STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP!

  PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF COFFEE, DO NOT START READING THIS BOOK WITHOUT READING BOOK 1, WISHED FOR YOU, AND BOOK 2, WISH HE WAS YOU, FIRST.

  These books are NOT standalones and must be read in order.

  Reading order:

  Wished for You

  Wish He Was You

  Wish Come True

  Now that I’ve had a panic attack thinking about someone reading this book first, you may proceed, but only if you’ve READ BOOKS ONE AND TWO FIRST!

  Love,

  KD

  Kayla’s Chick Rant & Book Blog

  December 20, 2007

  So I got this book called Sex Lover’s Book of Lists—a super fun read about the history of sex all around the world—and it has me a little worried. Supposedly, they used to think you could go blind by masturbating. I mean… I can see that. The toe-curling, mind-blowing, eye-crossing, self-induced orgasms I’ve been having the past two weeks would definitely lead me to believe I’ll eventually do physical harm to myself if I keep it up. But something tells me that’s not going to slow me down.

  I’m having better sex over the phone with Jason than I ever had actually doing the deed with Aiden. *snort* OMG, I’m so going to hell for saying that. But it’s true! I had never had phone sex before Jason suggested it. I was so embarrassed at even the thought of it… until he started talking. Dear God. I swear the man could read me the phone book and I’d come in seconds.

  When I told him I got my first vibrator, he was like a dog with a bone, hounding me until I confessed all the details of my little buddy. I have named him Dean, by the way, after Dean Winchester on Supernatural. Now, that man is sex on a stick. I’m a Dean girl, but I’m definitely Sam curious. Mmmmm…

  Wow, I think I’ve been reading too many Kresley Cole books. Nix is rubbing off on me. Squirrel!

  Back to what I was saying.

  After that first phone call from Jason on Thanksgiving about a month ago, we’ve talked literally every single day for hours on end. It only took a week to be back in Jason’s imaginary bed, half a country away. I know, I know… I’m such a ho. But whatever. He’s… different. I was leery he’d up and “pull a Jason”, as we now call it, referring to how he would completely, unexpectedly disappear. But I really believe he’s not bullshitting me this time. Why?

  Well, the conversation went a little like this…

  December 8, 2007

  Two weeks ago

  I glance at the clock, counting down the seconds until my phone will ring, the same time it has every night since Thanksgiving. 10:00 p.m., that magical moment when it’s 9:00 p.m. in Texas and we can talk on our cells for hours without being charged for it. I’m grateful to whoever came up with the “All calls free after 9:00 p.m.” rule, because heaven knows I’d be spending a fortune on my phone bill otherwise, devoting so much time talking to Jason.

  I have about ten minutes. I take my cell with me to the kitchen, setting it on the counter while I make myself a ham sandwich, grab a handful of sour cream and onion potato chips to go along with it, and then a Gatorade out of the fridge. I snatch my phone up, tucking it under my arm as I pick up my plate and my soda, and then walk back to my bedroom, closing the door with a backward shove of my foot.

  I place everything on my nightstand and reach to turn up the baby monitor. Josalyn’s already been asleep for two hours. I swear she’s the easiest baby in the world. Her internal clock is locked, never veering off schedule, not even by minutes. And I think it’s actually trained my body, because I usually wake up mere seconds before I hear her start to move around in her crib, and I make it to her to nurse before she even has a chance to cry. I wonder if all mothers have such a wondrous bond with their child.

  I hop into bed with an excited bounce, cross my legs, pull my covers up, and hunch over my phone, elbows-to-knees, chin propped on my knuckles, and wait for the little gadget to light up. And at the exact moment the green neon numbers go from 9:59 p.m. to 10:00 p.m., my cell starts playing the lyrics to “Helena” by My Chemical Romance. That song never gets old.

  With a thud of my heart and a face-splitting grin, I answer after Gerard sings, ‘Things are better if I stay’. “Hello.”

  “Hey, beautiful,” comes his usual opening, which makes my cheeks warm and radiate downward to set off the roller coaster hill-drop in my belly. “What are we having for dinner tonight?”

  “Just a sandwich and chips. I had to finish up a paper, so I didn’t really have time to cook anything,” I tell him. I love that we already have a routine. He picked up right away
on the fact I eat dinner after I put Josalyn to bed. Probably not great to wait so late to eat, but with my metabolism, it doesn’t really affect me. I silently thank my mom for her genes. “What about you?”

  “Mom made her smothered steak. I’m so full I had to just come prop myself up in bed,” he sighs, and I grin, imagining him rubbing his belly. I’ve been in that bed, so I can picture it perfectly.

  “So anything exciting happen today?” I prompt then take a bite out of my sandwich.

  “Well, it hasn’t happened yet, but I’m seriously thinking about quitting my job.”

  “What?” I exclaim with my mouth full. I quickly swallow and then ask, “Why would you quit? I thought you loved your job. Getting to travel all over the place and building windmills… did something happen?”

  “Well, it’s a family business, and I’m not family. I get the feeling they’re going to fire me soon to let one of the relatives have my job, so I figure I’ll beat them to it. I was thinking about going ahead and doing it in time I could maybe get back in school this coming semester. I still have a couple of weeks I could register right down the road at San Jac,” he explains.

  “Have you talked to your parents about this?”

  “Oh yeah, my mom is all for it. She never wanted me to quit school to take this job, so she’s ecstatic over the possibility,” he replies, as I take a sip of Gatorade.

  “What does your dad say?”

  “He had a good idea, actually. Instead of going for a four-year degree like Mom has been pestering me about since I was old enough to know what college was, he suggested I go for a certification. I like that idea much better. At least then I know I’ll be able to use the damn thing. Gavin got his degree and all that shit, and he’s still working at the fucking furniture store. I’m looking into drafting, learning AutoCAD.”

  I hear him shifting in his bed and then his echoing footsteps as he walks down his hallway. The telltale sound of his backdoor squeaking lets me know he’s going on his patio for a smoke. Memories of all the time we spent back there fill me with warmth.

  “You’re speaking in a foreign language. Break it down for me,” I say through a giggle.

  “Drafting, like drawing but on a computer. AutoCAD is the program I’d learn… kinda like blueprints, only I’d know how to do everything from simple drawings all the way up to like 3D shit.”

  “Ah, very cool. That sounds perfect for you. I’m putting you on speaker so you don’t have to have me chowing down on my chips all up in your earhole,” I tell him, and do just that. I hear him chuckle and I smile.

  “So what have you been up to today?” he asks, and then he blows out a long breath.

  “Those things are going to kill you. Have you at least cut back on how many cigarettes you smoke in a day?”

  “Yes, Mom. I only smoked half a pack today, thank you very much,” he teases.

  “Wow, impressive. That’s way lower than the two packs a day you used to smoke. I’m so proud.” I make sniffling noises like I’m so happy that it’s making me cry.

  “Oh, hush. I told you I would, so I am. You had a good reason to quit, having Josalyn and all. I don’t really have one. I enjoy it too much. It’s like an old friend I’m not ready to say goodbye to yet,” he confesses.

  “I’m just happy you’re cutting back. As for my day,” I begin, changing the subject back, “Aiden might be getting deployed again soon, so I’ll be moving back into my parents’ house sooner than I thought.”

  “Is that a good thing?” he asks.

  “Like 90 percent yes. Since he’ll have orders, we’ll be able to get out of the lease without any penalty. I loved living with my parents after Josalyn was first born, and I spend a ton of my time over there anyways.”

  “So what’s the 10 percent that’s not good about it?” Jason questions.

  “I don’t know. Even though he’s hardly present at all, I feel kind of bad moving Josalyn away from her father. At least now, she physically sees him here, whether he’s paying attention or not. I just have a feeling that when we move out, he’s not going to bother coming to see her.”

  “Well if he doesn’t bother, then that’s on him, not on you. You don’t need to feel guilty about it,” he says a bit heatedly. “I can’t imagine being a dad and not wanting to spend every spare minute with my baby.”

  “I know. Ugh, whatever. I’m over it. Josalyn and I are going to move in with my parents and Granny, and it’ll be awesome. I’ll be able to leave her with them as usual when I go to work, without having to drive there every morning and then pick her up in the evenings. I’ll just be able to come home. If I have schoolwork I need to get done, they’ll be there to help me out. It won’t be up to me to keep an entire house clean by myself while taking care of a baby with zero help. Oh, man, I’m gonna be spoiled rotten!” I laugh.

  “See? There you go. Just count yourself lucky you have them. They’ll probably be thrilled to have y’all there. Cure their Empty Nest Syndrome or whatever.”

  “True story. My mom didn’t even want me to move out in the first place. Plus, she misses the animals. She’s super attached to Jade, and Riley always snuggled up to her every day for a nap on the couch while Mom watched her ‘stories’,” I air-quote, even though he can’t see me do it.

  “I like this plan,” he states.

  “Oh, yeah? Why do you like it so much?” I ask with a smile in my voice.

  “Because you won’t be living with that jerkoff anymore, obviously.”

  I playfully make my tone husky. “And why don’t you want me living with said jerkoff, Jason?”

  “You keep making your voice sound like that and you’re gonna make me put my dick in your mouth,” he threatens, and I burst out laughing. When my laughter settles, he continues, “I’ll admit it: I’m a little jealous knowing he’s there.”

  “I told you he’s hardly ever here. He goes to work about an hour before I get home from work, so we’re like passing ships. Then he goes to bed a few hours before I get up and leave for the day. I only see him a little on the weekends, if I’m not hanging out at Mom’s.”

  “I know, but…” he trails off.

  “But what?” I prompt, holding my breath.

  He takes a while to answer; I can hear him taking pulls off his cigarette and blowing it out. But when he finally does, my heart sings.

  “Fuck it. I… I want you to myself. I don’t like knowing there's another man there, even though I’m sure you’re not doing anything with him. Just the fact he gets to share space with you makes me kinda insane. I want to be the only one sharing space with you.”

  His confession stuns me. Is this really the same Jason who never asked me to be his girlfriend? Even when he made the plans to come see me for his birthday before he disappeared, it was only platonic, coming to visit a friend. But this… this sounds way different. This sounds serious.

  “What are you saying, Jason?” I whisper, brushing the hair out of my face as I stare at my phone like I would his beautiful brown eyes.

  “I want you to be my girl. Like, for real this time. I let you get away, and I’ve told myself, ever since you said you were wishing for me, that I won’t let it happen again. For some crazy ass reason, even after all the shit I’ve done to you, you still want my dumb ass. And I swear this time, I’m not going to disappear. The only reason I did before was because I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought it would be what was best for you. You don’t deserve to have to put up with my bullshit.” He pauses, and I hear him take a drag off his cigarette before the telltale sound of the glass ashtray moving against the glass patio tabletop as he puts out the butt.

  He takes a deep breath then continues, “So I would just drop off the planet, thinking you’d forget about me if I’d just fucking leave you alone. And after the last time, when I had you take time off work, when I was gonna come see you for my birthday, I thought for sure you’d never speak to me again, and that’s why I deleted your number. I thought you’d never call me a
gain, so I made it impossible for me to call you too. But then you went and texted me. You texted me like it was no big deal I stood you up like a motherfucker. Sent me a message like no time had passed, like you did it every day. And as simple a text as it was, when I realized it really was you, I would have sawed off my arm to come have that Dos Equis with you. I couldn’t fucking believe it was you, my sweet, beautiful girl, messaging me like you were right down the road, just any other day.”

  The words spilling from him turn into tears that fill my eyes. I can hear the pain in his voice, the guilt eating away at him. I know my Jason. I know what he’s saying is his truth. I have no doubt that when he did his disappearing act, it was his way of trying to do what he thought was best for me. But what he doesn’t realize is he is what’s best for me.

  “Jason, I’m going to tell you this, and I’m only going to say it once. So you better let it sink into that thick skull of yours. Got it?” I ask with more bravado in my voice than what I actually feel.

  “Got it, babe,” he replies.

  “I am a grown woman. You do not need to decide what is best for me. I can make my own damn decisions. Before all the word vomit you just threw at me, I believe the first thing you said was you want me to be your girl. Is that correct?”

  “Yeah, babe. I want you to be my girl,” he says low.

  I bite my lip and look up at my ceiling, trying to calm my racing heart and trying to commit this conversation to memory. I want to remember it always.

  “How about you make that statement in the form of a question?” I look at my phone, waiting to hear the words I would have given anything to hear two and half years ago—what feels like a whole lifetime ago.