by Sabrina York
He loved that she said we. “Yes. We would definitely stay together.”
She thought about it for a moment, tapping her lip. And then she smiled. “Yeah. I guess it’s okay.” And then, as he hugged her, she added, “But I’d still like a pony. Or a goat.”
* * *
When Lizzie emerged from the office for dinner that night, the table was only set for six. She smiled when Sam and Emma came in with the glasses; Sam supervised as Emma set them above the spoons. “Who’s not coming?” she asked. To which Emma grinned and Sam batted her lashes as though she had something in her eye.
“You!” Emma said, and then dissolved into chortles.
Sam nudged her with an elbow. “Shh. It’s a surprise.”
Lizzie set her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at Emma. She didn’t know Sam all that well, but she knew her daughter couldn’t keep a secret if her life depended on it. The fact that Emma then folded her hands and tried to look innocent clinched it.
“Ahem.”
She whirled at the deep, familiar voice. Danny stood in the arched entry looking... Wow. He was wearing a suit. And, damn, he looked good. Her pulse heated. “What...?” It was all she could manage.
He stepped forward and took her hand. “We’re going on a date tonight.”
Her heart did a little flip-flop. “A date?”
“In the rose garden!” Emma called out, then covered her mouth with her hands. More chortles ensued.
“Ooh. In the rose garden?” Lizzie couldn’t stop her smile. Probably because his was infectious. “But I’m not dressed for a fancy date.”
He pulled her closer and took her in his arms. Kissed her forehead. “You look perfect. Shall we?”
“All right,” she said, taking his proffered arm and following him into the kitchen. Sam and Emma trailed behind them. To Lizzie’s surprise, everyone was in the kitchen. DJ, Mark, Luke, Maria, even Dorthea. And they all grinned as though they knew a secret. But as she and Danny continued on to the patio, no one followed. Thank God.
It was a beautiful summer evening. She sighed as Danny led her into the garden, to a table that had been set under the pergola entwined with flowers and wrapped with pretty white lights. The table was set exquisitely, with crystal glasses, linens and everything. A champagne bottle chilled in a bucket.
“Danny?”
“Hush.” He gave her a kiss and then pulled out her chair. “Milady?”
She had to giggle. Lordy. She hadn’t giggled in decades. “Danny, what is this?”
He shrugged. “I thought we deserved a romantic dinner. You know. A chance to talk. Privately?”
“Oh, yes. That’s a lovely idea.” She reached across the table and took his hand.
“And...” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to thank you.”
Lizzie blinked. “Thank me?”
“Yes.” His eyes glowed a little. But those couldn’t be tears. Could they? “I’m so happy you’re back in my life. That we’re together. And so freaking grateful that you brought me Emma. I love her so much—”
Awesome. Now she was tearing up, too. His expression was filled with so much gratitude, it humbled her. “She loves you, as well.” She squeezed his hand.
“But it’s more than that. I’m...changed. A changed man. In so many ways.”
She nodded. She could tell.
“So much of that is because you and Emma are in my life.”
“So much of that is because you chose to deal with your past.” She could see it in his face, his smile, his eyes. The bitterness was gone. The haunted looks, erased. The uncertainty about his place in the world, evaporated. “I am so proud of you.”
Her words hit him hard for some reason. He opened his mouth but no words came out. So instead, he lifted her hand and kissed it, reverently. “Lizzie. I—”
“Dinner!”
Lizzie jumped at the warbled cry. Emma appeared with Maria in her wake, carrying a tray. Emma proudly set the bread basket on the table as Maria set earthenware bowls before them. Maria then melted away, but Emma remained, watching them both with a zeal she usually reserved for Dora the Explorer.
Lizzie glanced down at the crusted bowl. “So...what are we having?”
“Chicken pot pie,” Danny said with a wink. “Emma told me it’s your favorite.”
She nearly snorted a laugh. Lobster was her favorite. Emma was the one who loved chicken pot pie. “It smells wonderful.”
“I helped Daddy make it,” Emma said.
Lizzie lifted an eyebrow at Danny. “You made this?” How sweet.
“I had help.”
“Thank you.”
Lizzie cracked the crust. Steam erupted. A delicious aroma swelled before her.
She took a tentative bite. Oh. It was delicious. But...she had to spit it out, a decidedly unromantic thing to do, because there was something hard in the—
Oh, good glory.
She stared at her spoon, where something glittered. It was...a ring. A pretty sapphire ring. Sapphires were her birthstone.
As the significance of this hit her, her pulse fluttered. Her head went light. Her gaze snapped to Danny’s face. His Adam’s apple bobbed.
He’d sworn he would never marry. He’d said it a hundred times. A thousand. What on earth was this?
Oh, but she knew. His expression made her chest ache. So sweet. So sincere. So...scared.
He ran a finger around his collar and cleared his throat. “Since the moment I met you, I knew you were special. And all these years later, you still make my heart pound when you’re near. And now...” He gestured to Emma. “I couldn’t be happier with us as a family. I...” He swallowed again, then looked her in the eye. “I love you, Elizabeth Michaels. More than I ever thought was possible. In fact, I—”
“Oh, come on. Can we get this over with?” The smallest person at the table had the shortest attention span. “I want a forever family and I’m hungry. Just say yes already, Mommy.”
Lizzie frowned at her daughter. “Shouldn’t I tell him how much I love him, too, before I say yes?”
Emma rolled her eyes. “Oh, all right.”
“Well,” she said, her chest tight, her emotions in a flurry. “I love you, Danny Diem. I love your strength, your heart. I love your willingness to adapt and change. I love the way you embraced...both of us—”
Emma sighed.
“Of course, I will marry you, Danny.”
“Woo-hoo! She said yes!” Emma bellowed, apparently to the family, because the kitchen door opened and everyone flooded into the garden, crowing and cheering and—in Sam’s case—tossing confetti. But all this hullabaloo was lost on Lizzie, who was staring into the eyes of the man she loved, the man she would spend the rest of her life with.
The man who wanted to marry her.
Marry. Her.
It was hard to keep from smiling, even as he kissed her.
Everyone was so excited about celebrating the successful proposal that bedtime came late that night. Sam and Emma sat around forever talking about wedding stuff. Emma was pretty sure there should be ponies.
When Lizzie glanced at the clock, she was surprised at how quickly the evening had passed. “Oh, my goodness. Emma Jean. It’s way late. Time for you to go to bed.”
Naturally, Emma protested, but Lizzie could see she was tired. So she told her that tomorrow they could go into town and look over the church to see if it would be a good place for the wedding, even though Dorthea wanted to do it right here, in the garden.
* * *
As for Danny, he didn’t care where they held the wedding. He just wanted to marry Lizzie. Wherever. Whenever. However.
He also longed to get his fiancée alone, even though there was no rush. They had time. They had all the time in the world.
Fortunately, despite her protests, Emma fell asleep
before they got halfway through her bedtime story. He and Lizzie rose together and, hand in hand, headed to his room. Once there, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close.
Not for a kiss, though.
“You realize you proposed to me over chicken pot pie?” she said.
He grinned. “I didn’t want to be pretentious.”
“Well, it worked.” She snorted. “The unpretentious part.”
He kissed her soundly. “I am so happy you agreed to marry me. Knowing everything about me. You still want me.”
She rubbed his nose with hers. “I still want you. Imagine that.”
He smiled, but it was a little wobbly. Something prickled in his eye. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you—”
She made a face. “I hate that word. I’m just glad you chose to be the man you are, Daniel Diem, because I love who you are.” She kissed him then, softly, the way he liked it.
Then she pushed him back onto the bed and straddled him. He liked that better.
“You decided,” she said. “You made the choice to be your own man, and I’m so glad of it.”
“I am, too,” he said.
She slid off him—damn—and cuddled at his side with her ring hand on his chest. The stone caught the light and flashed. “You chose us. Me. And Emma...” She trailed off in a way that made something shimmy up his spine.
He strummed his thumb on her arm. “Of course I chose you.”
She leaned up on her elbow and looked down at him. Her face was nearly obscured by her hair, but he could see her eyes. “And all that nonsense about you not being a good father is over, right? Because you are a good father. You’re a great father. You’re gentle and caring and you make sacrifices for Emma, which is what real parents do.” She cupped his face. “You are the best father ever.” Her lips were warm on his, but it was nothing to the warmth rising in his chest.
He had chosen.
He’d chosen to let go of his fears and step fully into the role fate had given him. And it was a wonderful role. The best. Emma’s dad.
He deepened the kiss and pulled Lizzie against him before rolling over so he was on top. He growled a little and rubbed against her, and she laughed. “I chose you,” he said before kissing her nose. Her eyelid. Her earlobe. Her lips.
She opened to him like a flower. But he pulled away. He wasn’t done yet. This was important stuff.
“I chose Emma, too.”
She set her palm on his cheek. “You did. And any children yet to come.”
He stilled. His heart thudded. “Yet to come?” He hadn’t even thought that far ahead. Oh, how amazing would it be to have a herd of them? Rough-and-tumble little boys and bunny-loving little girls?
Lizzie punched his shoulder. Apparently to get his attention back. “Hey. What’s wrong? Don’t you want more children?” Her adorable brow furrowed.
“I most certainly do,” he said, and then he sealed it with a kiss. It was a very romantic kiss. He had no idea why she pushed him back right in the middle of it.
“Good,” she said. She said it with a very particular look in her eye. One that meant...
His breath caught in his throat. A hum rose in his ears. His heart hiccupped. “Oh, my God!” He gaped at her. “Are you...? Is it...? Did we...?”
She laughed. “Yes. To all of those questions.”
He kissed her soundly. “When? What? How?”
She made a face. “I think you know how.” But then she smiled. Why wouldn’t she? “I’m three months along.”
“Three months?” With reverence, he set his hand on her flat belly. In there. Somewhere in there...was his child. A little boy, or another little girl like Emma. “That means...”
“A baby for Christmas?” Her smile was just brilliant.
“A Christmas baby.” Perfect.
Just perfect.
Everything was perfect.
And everything he’d been through in his life? It had brought him to this moment. This place. All the suffering and anguish had meant something because it had helped him become who he was. A man who had earned the love of a good woman. Who had earned a chance to be a great dad, who was finally happy in his own skin.
He pulled Lizzie close, kissed her on the forehead and whispered again how much he adored her.
She grunted, then caught his eye and muttered, “Chicken pot pie? Seriously?”
And they both had to laugh, each knowing that they had found their place. Together. Forever.
* * *
Look for Mark’s story, Recipe for a Homecoming, the next book in New York Times bestselling author Sabrina York’s The Stirling Ranch miniseries, on sale October 2021 wherever Harlequin Special Edition books and ebooks are sold.
Return to Rendezvous Falls for the next charming and heartfelt book in Jo McNally’s series!
Read on for a sneak peek of Love Blooms by Jo McNally.
Love Blooms
by Jo McNally
OWEN DIDN’T KNOW how to respond. She was right. He wasn’t the guy Lucy had known before. His time in the military had changed him. There was a bright flash beyond the trees, and a rapid series of explosions followed by more colors lighting up the sky. The finale of the fireworks show. His body tensed at the bombardment of sound and light, no matter how distant. Lucy’s hands gripped his biceps, and her forehead touched his. She was trying to stay connected...trying to keep him connected to her. To the present, not the past. He rested his hands on her waist, completing the circle, but not pulling her closer.
Neither of them said a word while the finale came to its explosive conclusion. There was a beat of complete silence after the echoes faded, then the sound of car and boat horns rose up from the lakeshore as people expressed appreciation for the event that had sent him running.
And still they stood without moving in the empty parking lot. He breathed in the soft floral scent of her and wished they could stay connected like this forever. Once silence fell on the Seneca Valley again, Lucy made the first move, slowly backing away. Moving out of reach, but not by much. That had to be a good sign, right? Was this whole night a good sign? Or a goodbye?
He looked up, unable to see her face in the shadows cast by the parking lot light behind her. But he could see she was looking back at him. Waiting for some kind of answers. He was suddenly exhausted from holding onto everything he was carrying, and his shoulders fell in defeat.
“You’re right, Luce. I didn’t come back the same. The last tour...it was so many levels worse than the first two for me. Those were no picnics, but the last one...the mountains, the weather and the action... We ended up in the thick of things more than once. Screwed up intel. Lousy luck. I don’t even know.” He stared off into the darkness under the trees. “People died before. Even people I knew...sort of. But this time...” His head dropped. “This time some of them died in my arms. Friends died in my arms....” Lucy made a strangled sound. She was getting the idea. “It made everything else seem so...unimportant.” He rushed to clarify, looking straight at her. “I don’t mean that it made you unimportant. But the wedding plans...the dress...the food...” His hand rose and fell. “I know it was important to you, so I should have made more effort, but I truly didn’t care.” He stopped. “There, I said it.”
She considered his words for a moment.
“Yes, you said it. And I...I respect that, after what happened. But what you didn’t hear is that the problem wasn’t in the wedding plans—I never expected you to get excited over choosing the centerpieces. The problem was that I wanted a small, intimate ceremony and I was getting a country club reception with an orchestra. The wedding plans weren’t what I wanted you to care about. My feelings about them are what I wanted you to hear.”
Silence hung between them again, heavier than before. He’d been such an idiot.
“I’m sorry, Luce. You’re r
ight. I should have heard that, but I just...I was barely hanging on, you know? I didn’t want any deep dives into feelings. Not mine. Not yours. I get why you left me standing at the church. I deserved it, and it helped jolt me out of my stupor.” He thought of the week he’d spent drinking alone in their apartment. “Eventually, anyway.”
He turned her toward the car. “We should head back.” He took her hand, not sure if she’d allow it. She didn’t push his hand away as she fell into step at his side. His heart jumped. As they walked, she wound her fingers through his. Progress! There had clearly been a shift in the mood between them tonight.
His chest felt lighter. Her hand was warm and familiar. She’d come up here with him when he needed her. She still cared. Owen Cooper had never been a quitter, and he wasn’t about to give up on their future together. If he had to win Lucy’s heart all over again, he’d do it. And this time around...this time she could wear whatever damn dress she wanted when she married him.
Don’t miss what happens next in...
Love Blooms
by Jo McNally
Available August 2021 wherever HQN books and ebooks are sold.
www.Harlequin.com
Keep reading for an excerpt from For His Daughter’s Sake by Stella Bagwell.
Copyright © 2021 by Jo McNally
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For His Daughter’s Sake
by Stella Bagwell
Chapter One
Callie Sheldrick carefully hid a bored yawn behind her hand as she watched Melanie Driscoll, the honoree of tonight’s bridal shower, open one of the many gift-wrapped boxes stacked on a decorated table.
