by Sandra Hill
But he couldn’t go there. Not yet. “What I discovered over the past twenty-four hours, after behaving like a cowardly jackass, is that love doesn’t set any barriers. It’s unconditional. It either is or it isn’t.” He had her pressed against the door, and his hands were cupped around her buttocks, rubbing softly against the silky fabric.
Instead of shoving him away, she sighed and arched her hips against him just at that spot which was showing the biggest sign of his affection at the moment.
He saw stars.
“You say that now, but what if . . .” she continued.
How was it that women could turn a guy’s brains to a testosterone blob and still carry on a conversation? “See, you’re looking for roadblocks, and I’m looking to take them down.” That didn’t sound so bad for a guy who was drowning in blob.
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
At least she wasn’t struggling anymore. So, he picked her up by the waist and set her on the counter, stepping between her dangling legs. It put his body at just the right level it wanted—needed to be. But not yet.
“Here’s the deal, sweetheart. You had, still have, two critical problems. They could take your parole away at the least provocation. And they could put Maggie into foster care at the least hint of an issue, real or imagined. I figured that marriage between you and me, with my eventually adopting Maggie, would be a way of permanently stopping the clock on any overzealous parole agents. We would be a family.” He couldn’t resist then. He rubbed the palms of his hands over her breasts bringing the nipples to obvious peaks.
She made a small gasp.
And she was listening.
So, he plowed ahead, both in speech and action. “I would continue working for the treasure hunting company. You could get the diner and motel going.” He raised the hem of her dress up to her waist and tugged off her panties.
She shifted so that he could tug them the rest of the way off.
“And maybe we could build a house out there on the bluff overlooking Bell Sound.” At the same time—God bless multitasking—he unzipped his pants and pulled out one very excited symbol of his rising affection.
Her eyes went wide, whether at what he’d said or what he was showing her, he wasn’t sure.
And wasn’t about to ask.
“You’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and planning, without consulting me.”
“Yeah, I have, and I admit it’s partly because I feared you would object because, face it, you’ve never said that you love me.”
She said nothing.
He decided to change direction and reached up to untie the bow at her nape, letting the fabric drop to expose her breasts.
“Have I told you how much I like this dress?” he asked in a voice husky with arousal. “Have I told you how much I like your breasts?”
Then he showed her by licking, then suckling first one breast, then the other. When he leaned back, he saw that the nipples were moist and rosy and turgid with the female equivalent of a hard-on.
She was breathing heavily through parted lips.
But she still hadn’t said that she loved him.
She still hadn’t agreed to his plans.
“How can we get married without a marriage license?”
He waved a hand airily. “Matt took care of that.”
She leaned forward and was about to kiss him, but she paused. “You mean those papers I signed were an application for a marriage license?”
He could feel his face heat with guilt. “Maybe.”
“Don’t those applications have to be made in person?”
“Matt knows people.”
She nodded her understanding and kissed the side of his mouth. Not nearly the kind of kiss he wanted, but at least she wasn’t shoving him away.
“Speaking of knowing people,” she started to say, the first time he took his tongue out of her mouth and came up for a breather.
Honestly, how can I be dumbstruck and practically babbling like an idiot and she just keeps talking, as if we aren’t about to engage in world-class monkey sex?
“Do you really know some senators and a governor who are going to put the press on Ms. Gardner?”
“Hell, no. It’s a case of six degrees of separation. I know someone, who knows someone, who knows . . . well, you get the picture.” His cock was at the brink of the happy tunnel, but first he rubbed against that part of her that looked like it would like a little attention.
She almost shot off the counter on a long groan. And then—amazingly—she resumed talking. “And so you decided that I would be pleased with a surprise pirate wedding?”
“No, no, no! I fully intended that we would get married at town hall later today. It’s just that once people in Bell Cove get wind of something, they just run with it. I had no idea it had gone so far. And speaking of going too far, I’m about to explode if this keeps up much longer.”
“What are you waiting for?” she asked with mock sweetness and shimmied her butt forward a bit, encouraging him to enter her.
Not yet. Oh, not by a sexy minute was she going to have him without paying her dues first.
“Tell me,” he urged.
She raised her chin haughtily.
He touched her clit with his thumb.
She gasped and tried to close her thighs, but he was already there, spreading them apart.
“Tell me.” He fluttered her clit with his middle finger.
She made a gurgling sound, and he was pretty sure her climax was starting. Either that or her eyes were rolling back in her head for no reason.
He rubbed his lips across hers and plunged his tongue inside, then slid out slowly. “Tell me.”
She opened her eyes—eyes that glistened like blue crystals—and looked at him. “I love you.”
He almost cried out with joy, and maybe it was with the sheer torture/pleasure of thrusting in and out of her spasming folds until she said, almost in a shout, “I love you, dammit. I love you, love you, love you.”
After her breathing slowed down and he could stop panting, he kissed her, then leaned his head back so that he could look at her. “Does this mean we’re getting married?”
“No, I have quickies with any ol’ guy who asks, in a pantry, outside a ballroom with about a hundred people listening.”
“Will you marry me, Delilah Jones?”
Just then, all the bells of Bell Cove, the two churches, and the town hall clock tower, rang out the hour. It was almost a mystical moment, a sign of approval from above.
That’s when she said, “Yes, of course.”
Epilogue
Long John Silver couldn’t have done it better . . .
Delilah Jones and Merrill Good were married in a surprise wedding that afternoon at the Chimes mansion in Bell Cove, which had been amazingly transformed into a wedding chapel, then a reception hall in the twenty-three minutes the couple had been missing. Ina Rogers, the church secretary, timed them, to Delilah’s mortification.
The fact that it had a mixed pirate/Independence Day theme didn’t seem to bother anyone. There were both Blackbeards and Uncle Sams on the dance floor later.
Delilah wore a white Marilyn Monroe halter dress that everyone said was as good a wedding dress as any they’d ever seen. A circlet of pink roses, a gift from the local florist, Rosie’s Posies, sat on her silver blonde hair. Somehow, the neat upswept hairdo she started the day with was loose and full about her face during the ceremony, a face which not a few people noted was dusted with a whisker burn or two.
Merrill was handsome as sin in a black suit; all the ladies said so. He never let go of his bride-to-be’s hand until the ceremony was over, as if he feared she would change her mind.
Kevin “K-4” Fortunato and Sally Dawson were best man and matron of honor. It was hard not to notice the attraction between the two of them, Kevin’s obvious lust, hers more lust-hidden-by-hostility. Bell Cove-ites predicted another wedding in their future, maybe even during the Lollypalooza celebration.
The band played lots of shag dancing songs because, after all, this was the Carolinas. Delilah and Merrill would learn eventually. They also played some Elvis songs, and encouraged folks to visit the Rock Around the Clock diner once it opened.
Merrill, when he gave a toast, said, “Today was a day for celebrating our discovery of gold on the Falcon shipwreck, but I’ve discovered my greatest treasure is right here beside me.”
The only thing missing was Maggie and her grandmother, Delilah said.
“We could always have a second wedding later and include them,” Merrill suggested.
“Bite your tongue,” she replied, and glanced around to make sure no one had overheard. Otherwise, they would be part of the Lollypalooza weekend, too.
Later that night, Merrill showed Delilah a new use for Avon Skin So Soft.
She showed him some things that made a hardened Navy SEAL, or ex–Navy SEAL, say, “Hoo-yah!”
Author’s Note
Dear Readers:
Merrill “Geek” Good’s story has been a long time coming. I hope you liked it.
Way back in 2004, I got the strange idea of combining Vikings and Navy SEALs. After all, there are so many similarities. Fighting men. Brave. Attractive. Work well in water (Frogmen, anyone? And longships!). Sexy. Great senses of humor. Thus was born the first of my Viking Navy SEAL novels in Wet and Wild, followed by Hot and Heavy, and five others.
From the start, Merrill “Geek” Good was an important secondary character in all those books. A genius with a Mensa I.Q., Geek graduated from college at a young age, bringing a unique perspective to the elite Special Forces. And, despite his youthful appearance, which he played for all its worth, he was sexy as sin.
For years, I wondered what kind of woman would finally land this brilliant rogue. Would she be a PhD? Would she be a female SEAL, or engaged in some kind of military, like he was? Would she be movie star beautiful, or plain?
Finally, I think I found the perfect match for him in Delilah Jones, an ex-con who barely graduated from high school, in this book, Life, Love and the Pursuit of Happiness. And I love the backdrop of the Outer Banks of North Carolina.
We got a hint of Merrill’s intention to leave the teams in the first book of this new Bell Sound series, The Forever Christmas Tree, and, of course, we’ll be seeing more of him and Delilah in the third book of the series, where he will continue to treasure hunt and she will finally launch her rock-and-roll-themed diner and Heartbreak Motel.
I love to hear from you readers, and I respond to all mail at [email protected]. You can sign up for my mailing list on my website at sandrahill.net, or get news on my Facebook page at: Sandra Hill Author.
As always, I wish you smiles in your reading.
Sandra Hill
A Hero Comes Home
Don’t miss the next book in the fun and sexy Bell Sound series by New York Times bestseller Sandra Hill
A HERO COMES HOME
Coming January 2020 from Avon Books!
About the Author
SANDRA HILL is a graduate of Penn State and worked for more than ten years as a features writer and education editor for publications in New Jersey and Pennsylvania. Writing about serious issues taught her the merits of seeking the lighter side of even the darkest stories.
For more information on additional books in Sandra’s Cajun, vampire angel, and other series, please visit her website: www.sandrahill.net.
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Also by Sandra Hill
Bell Sound Series
The Forever Christmas Tree
Cajun Series
Cajun Persuasion
Cajun Crazy
The Cajun Doctor
The Love Potion
Deadly Angels Series
Good Vampires Go to Heaven
The Angel Wore Fangs
Even Vampires Get the Blues
Vampire in Paradise
Christmas in Transylvania
Kiss of Wrath
Kiss of Temptation
Kiss of Surrender
Kiss of Pride
Viking Series I
The Pirate Bride
The Norse King’s Daughter
The Viking Takes a Knight
Viking in Love
A Tale of Two Vikings
The Viking Captive (formerly My Fair Viking)
The Blue Viking
The Bewitched Viking
The Tarnished Lady
The Outlaw Viking
The Reluctant Viking
Viking Series II
Hot & Heavy
Wet & Wild
The Very Virile Viking
Truly, Madly Viking
The Last Viking
Creole-Time Travel Series
Sweeter Savage Love
Frankly, My Dear…
Others
Love Me Tender
Desperado
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
life, love and the pursuit of happiness. Copyright © 2019 by Sandra Hill. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins Publishers. For information, address HarperCollins Publishers, 195 Broadway, New York, NY 10007.
Digital Edition JULY 2019 ISBN: 978-0-06-285409-4
Print Edition ISBN: 978-0-06-285410-0
Cover design by Nadine Badalaty
Cover illustration by Shane Rebenshield
Cover photographs by Shirley Green (couple); © Mariusz S. Jurgielewicz/Shutterstock (rock beach); © pkline/pabradyphoto/deputyrick/Mustang_79/Serg_Velusceac/iStock/Getty Images (five images); Charles Carlson/Adobestock (background)
Avon, Avon & logo, and Avon Books & logo are registered trademarks of HarperCollins Publishers in the United States of America and other countries.
HarperCollins is a registered trademark of HarperCollins Publishers in the United States of America and other countries.
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