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What the Heart Takes

Kelli McCracken




  WHAT THE HEART TAKES

  By Kelli McCracken

  Praise for What the Heart Takes…

  “Captivating. A roller coaster of emotions. It will leave you breathless.”

  Elena Gray

  Author

  Night Visions

  “A true page turner…every single page leaves you wanting more. Kelli McCracken has created a world that I want to live in, and a love I’d die to have. Excellent read!”

  Jackie Chanel

  Author

  Love & War

  “Packed full of drama, love, and will leave you wanting more. You will not be disappointed.”

  Donna M.

  Reviewer

  Magic Within the Pages

  “Dramatic, Mystical, and Magical. The 3rd installment in the Soulmate series will take you on a ride full of new revelations and emotional moments that will leave you wanting more!”

  Megan C.

  Reviewer

  There’s This Book

  “This series is phenomenal. What the Heart Takes only adds to its greatness. I can’t wait to see what’s next.”

  Angel R

  Reviewer

  Angel Kissed Reviews

  Main Menu

  Start Reading

  Afterword

  About the Author

  Contact Information

  Acknowledgments

  Copyright Information

  Table of Contents

  To Lisa,

  For the long chats, the encouragement, and your wild imagination.

  PROLOGUE

  Fire spread through Layne’s hand as he hit it against the wall behind him. The longer he stared at the bedroom door, the more he wanted to tear it down. It was the only thing standing between him and Heaven, the only thing preventing him from making sure she was okay. Every inch of him pulsed with a driving need to be near her, a need he couldn’t satisfy.

  So maybe the door wasn’t the only thing keeping them apart. Not if he counted Dylan, which he had to, considering his friend barely let him speak to Heaven since his arrival.

  He’d done as Dylan asked—wait three days before joining them in Montego Bay. It wasn’t the easiest task to accomplish. Neither was remaining at a respectful distance for a week, but he promised his friend he would, and had successfully done so for three days. At least until thirty minutes ago, when he watched Heaven run from the beach to the cottage. Then the pull overpowered him.

  Though he knew his duties as a Keeper, it didn’t make understanding them any easier. Especially the bond he had with her, the constant pull that ate him alive. There was no way he could have remained in L.A. any longer than three days, and while he appreciated at least being able to see her, keeping his distance grew tougher.

  Now he had to wait for Dylan to deliver him news. Judging by the hostility he’d witnessed from his friend, Layne doubted he’d get the truth.

  Dylan would never let him protect Heaven. Not at the level she needed to be, the level her father expected him to fulfill. He knew the road to regain Dylan’s trust wouldn’t be easy, but his friend promised to try. Yet somewhere between L.A. and Jamaica, he’d changed his mind.

  The flash of a sunray on a nearby vase captured Layne’s attention, drawing his eyes into the sitting room. But he couldn’t escape the question in his mind. Had Dylan finally picked up on it? Had he finally figured out that Layne lied through his teeth?

  As far as Layne knew, he did a damn good job of hiding the way he ached to be near Heaven. He’d even denied that ache when his friend asked if he was in love with her.

  He hated lying to Dylan, but the truth would have cost him their friendship. Besides, Delia said his feelings would change. He’d get used to his bond with Heaven. Find the balance. Settle into his role as her Keeper.

  But would he ever care for her any less? Yeah…care for her. That’s what it was. That’s all it could be, because admitting anything else would destroy everything he loved.

  A soft groan came from the door hinge. He shifted his focus back to the object that once held his undivided attention. A tiny speck of hope flitted its way across his heart at the thought of seeing those bright, beautiful eyes that calmed his soul. Then the door swept open, revealing nothing more than his retreating friend.

  Suspicious eyes trailed him from head-to-toe before moving past him toward the sitting room. Any second Dylan would pass him, withholding the explanation he needed. He had to remind himself not to demand answers from his friend. The less Dylan questioned his loyalty to their friendship, the more time Layne would get with Heaven.

  Still, he needed something to silence the questions in his mind.

  “Is she okay?”

  Glaring in his direction, Dylan closed the door behind him. Three steps brought them within a foot of each other. “She’s fine. Don’t worry. You can head back to the beach. The sooner you learn the area, the better.”

  Layne bit the inside of his cheek, fighting back a burst of irritation. So they were going to play this game?

  Like hell.

  “I want to talk to her.”

  Dylan gave him another look-over before shaking his head. “Maybe later. She’s resting.”

  Maybe later? Did he plan to hide her in their room for the rest of the evening? There was no point in doing that. Unless… “Are you hiding something from me?”

  “I said she’s fine.”

  Dark eyes pinned Layne to the wall, but he wasn’t about to leave without answers, no matter how many death stares Dylan gave him. “Come on, dude. I can tell you’re lying. I’m her Keeper. I have a right to know.”

  Leaning in closer, Dylan gritted his teeth, spitting out the words, “You have no rights to Heaven. And you’re not the only one who can protect her. You’re the backup plan.”

  “I’m the only plan we have, which isn’t that great to begin with since we don’t technically have a plan.”

  Not even a joke wiped the anger from Dylan’s face. Damn. Getting back in his good graces would be harder than Layne thought. He pressed his back to the wall, gauging his words before he spoke them.

  “I thought we were working through this, for Heaven. Even your mom said I’m supposed to be in her life.”

  Dylan slammed his fist into the wall beside Layne’s head. The crack of his friend’s knuckles resonated in his ears just a moment before his friend’s voice. “You’re walking a thin line, Layne. Back off.”

  Guess he hadn’t chosen the right words, or maybe he had. Maybe Dylan would never get over the kiss.

  “Would you quit reading into everything I say? I told you, I’m sorry. What else can I do?”

  “Do you really want to know the answer to that? Because you going to hell is my first suggestion.”

  Too late for that. Layne was already in hell. Every second Dylan kept him from seeing Heaven increased the torment.

  “I don’t want to fight with you. I just want to check on her. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll stay by the door. Just let me see her with my own eyes.”

  “No.” Dylan growled the words before wincing. He took a step back as he slumped his shoulders. “Look, I know you’re worried about her, but I promise she is fine.”

  “You also promised that we’d work through everything that happened so we could keep her safe. Your promises are hollow, Dylan.”

  “I am trying, Layne. Believe me.” His eyes shifted to the spot where his fist had landed. “The dent in the drywall is proof of how much I’m trying.”

  “Gee, I feel so much better.”

  Pushing off the wall, Layne sidestepped Dylan, moving toward the nearby window. He sucked in a deep breath as he gripped the sill. Bright orange flowers grew near the cottage. Their fruity scent made its wa
y to his nose, helping to soothe his nerves. The urge to punch his friend decreased each time he inhaled.

  He knew fighting with Dylan wouldn’t help Heaven. But would Dylan ever feel the same?

  Steps sounded from behind as Dylan joined him. They stood in awkward silence for what seemed like a lifetime. Then Dylan released a sigh.

  “We’ve been through a lot. You know that as much as I do. I just don’t know if it’s enough to help me forgive you. Regardless of how drunk you claim you were, the urge to kiss Heaven stemmed from somewhere.”

  “I already told you, I would have kissed anyone that night. Even Faith, and she’s the reason I was out of my mind.”

  “What the hell, man?” Dylan’s eyes locked onto him. He leaned in closer, forcing Layne to take a step away from the window. “This is why I can’t do this. You’re lying to me. My gut keeps telling me that your answers are laced with bullshit.”

  “Dylan—”

  “Shut up, Layne.” Dylan shoved his finger into Layne’s chest, knocking him back to the wall. “You screwed up. Big time. You shouldn’t be rewarded any time with my wife. You’re not above punishment.”

  “Seriously?” He shoved Dylan away before righting himself. Then he advanced on his friend, arms spread wide. “Do you think I want this? I gave up my life to protect your wife. I may lose my life in order to keep that promise.” His finger landed in the center of Dylan’s chest. “You have her. I have nothing. I never will. Isn’t that punishment enough?”

  Knocking his hand away, Dylan turned to face the window, shaking his head at first. A snort filled the air a second later. Then he met Layne’s eyes. “Maybe it is…especially if you’re in love with her.”

  “I’m not in love with anyone. I care about her, about her safety. I have to figure out how to keep her safe, which will require your cooperation.

  “It’s good to know that you’ve been thinking about this because the stakes are a little higher than we first thought.”

  Watching his friend take a step past him, a rush of fear coiled in Layne’s gut. He knew Dylan was hiding something. He had been since the wedding, because his attitude changed after the reception.

  “What do you mean the stakes are higher?”

  Dylan touched the vase near the sitting room entrance before shooting Layne one last glance. “You’re not just protecting one life anymore. You’re protecting two. Heaven’s pregnant.”

  A surge of fire coursed through Layne as the curtains burst into flames.

  CHAPTER 1

  Heaven released a sigh as her eyes fluttered shut, blocking out the perfect blue sky. She wiggled her toes back and forth, enjoying the way the heat of the sun warmed her skin. If it weren’t for the shade of the nearby palm tree, her entire body would be nice and toasty, probably a little more than she’d like.

  Pressing her back into the cushioned bench, she pushed away the negative energy begging to take her under. There would be plenty of time to deal with all of that when they returned home.

  If they returned home…

  No. Dylan promised they would. He wanted her to deliver in The States as much as she did. Not that there wasn’t good medical care on the island. The doctor in Montego treated her like family. He’d even calmed Dylan a few times, especially after her first Braxton Hicks contraction.

  But she wanted her parents to be at the hospital, just as much as she wanted Delia with them. Maybe even Hope, too.

  A dull swooshing lingered in the distance each time a wave crashed ashore. The growing tide brought with it a gentle breeze that blew her curls about her face. The coconut-scented strands tickled her cheek until she couldn’t fight back a smile.

  When Dylan’s chuckle filled her ears, her lips curled even further. Concentrating on anything but the warmth of his hand proved a challenge. Each sweep across her stomach sent a spark through every nerve in her body.

  But another trail of his fingers had her wincing, mainly because of the thump beneath her navel. The little bubbles that fluttered there a couple months ago gave way to flips and rolls from the contortionist within.

  She should have schooled her features a little better. Regretted not doing so when Dylan’s voice rang in her ears a second later. “Heaven?”

  “I’m okay,” she whispered, meeting his eyes before they fell to her tiny, but well-rounded, belly.

  “She’s at it again, isn’t she?”

  Her heart took an extra beat with his words. She loved the gleam that came to his eyes when he talked about their child, loved the way his energy fluttered every time his big brown eyes made contact with her stomach.

  “You’re so sure it’s a girl, aren’t you?”

  Dylan’s mouth crooked before he brushed his lips against her belly. “Of course I am. I have my mother’s instincts, remember?”

  “You won’t be disappointed when your son greets you instead?”

  The deep chuckle escaping his lips played like music in her ears. She inhaled the sweet spice of his skin as he pressed his head to hers. “I wouldn’t be disappointed if we had a son. But I really believe you should be concentrating on girl names.”

  Guess he was right, only because they’d already agreed on Jackson for a boy. But if Dylan’s intuition was as keen as his mother’s… Yeah, she really should think about girl names.

  Giving him another smile, she pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind as a new wave of energy swirled around her. The insistent tug drew her eyes across the edge of the sand where Layne stood. Though he didn’t face her, she could sense his determination. He gazed up at one of the torches lining the patio. A solid yellow flame danced in the breeze.

  Layne continued studying it, most likely wondering about his own power over heat. Fire, particularly. Conquering the fire within him would be the biggest step in learning his abilities, especially after the mishap with the curtains. Neither he nor Dylan had explained how the curtains caught fire, only that Layne had been practicing too hard.

  She didn’t believe that excuse for a second.

  Something about him seemed different today. The way he raised his hand to his side, his eyes fixed on his palm. So much curiosity flowed through him. It made her anxious.

  “What’s he doing?”

  Dylan’s voice lingered in her ears. She didn’t meet his gaze but did squeeze his hand as she offered him a smile. “He’s questioning himself, and he’s struggling, but he is learning. He has a great gift. Figuring it out is a process. Time and patience are humbling to someone who’s used to getting everything he wants, when he wants it.”

  “He didn’t get everything he wanted.”

  She met Dylan’s eyes, noting the way they wavered between hers and her stomach. Would he ever come to terms with her connection to Layne?

  “You don’t have to worry, Dylan.” She trailed her finger across his lips, smiling when his eyes fluttered closed. How comforting it was to know a single touch could soothe his soul just as much as it could hers. That alone should erase any of his doubts. “I am yours and you are mine. My breath is your breath. My heartbeat is your heartbeat. It will always be that way. But Layne needs us. We have to help him.”

  “I know.”

  He didn’t say anything else. Just pulsed the deepest and richest vibes of love toward her. Then he opened his eyes, shifting them in his best friend’s direction. Heaven did the same. They watched Layne as he tilted his head and stared at the torch again.

  A second later, the flame rose an inch. It kept its new height for a few more seconds until Layne gazed down at his hand.

  Heaven noticed the air shift. The warm breeze turned sultry. It even picked up a few notches. Then she sensed Layne’s energy gaining strength. A tinge of hope sprouted in her heart. Layne had it all. Determination. Dedication. Devotion. The three D’s needed for defense. It’s what her father said he’d have. Layne’s energy could no longer refute it.

  The more she stared at him, the stronger a surge of heat prickled her cheeks, like she stood too close
to a fire. And just as she sent an encouraging pulse to Layne, a tiny glow formed inside his hand. The glow grew brighter, then softer, as it changed from white to golden.

  Layne cupped his hand, bringing it in for a closer look. A slight turn of his body revealed his face—one full of wonder. His energy beat with amazement, even a smidge of pride, something she hadn’t felt in him since he separated from Faith.

  He moved his hand back to his waist, palm-side up. Heaven gasped when she saw the miniature flame inside.

  “I’ll be damned,” Dylan mumbled beside her.

  She gave him a smile, noticing the sadness in his eyes had receded. He returned her smile, leaning in closer. She barely had time to enjoy the warmth of his lips before her connection to Layne wavered.

  Pulling away from Dylan, she found Layne again. With his shoulders slightly slumped, they rose an inch as he let out a sigh. The small flicker in his palm vanished, as did his sense of accomplishment. He stood silent, his hair brushing the back of his neck with each shake of his head. Then he began swinging his fist, punching the air in half circles.

  “Ugh,” he grumbled. A few obscenities followed before his eyes met hers.

  In less than a heartbeat, his body stiffened. He drew in a deep breath and raked his fingers through his hair. The quake of his energy had her stomach knotting when she noticed his cheeks turning pink.

  Poor guy. He’d given up his life to protect her, now his privacy, what little bit the press hadn’t taken from him. At least with the paparazzi, he could escape to his home—could curse, punch walls, drink until he passed out. Yet the moment he arrived in Jamaica and stepped inside the coastline cottage, that small sliver of solitude was stolen.

  Embarrassment beat within his soul, but he didn’t turn away. He raised his hand, gave her a quick wave, and then grinned so big, his cheeks dimpled in perfection. “Hey. How’s it going?”

  “Doesn’t look like you’re doing so hot,” Dylan chuckled. “No pun intended.”