She was a free spirit who wouldn’t be tied down
Until he convinced her to say “I do!”
Kate Clark’s Las Vegas wedding trip wasn’t for her wedding. But a husband is what she found—and no memory of how it happened! Aidan Quindlin broke her heart in high school. And if she’s not careful, the tempting single dad and his precious little girl could do it again. Once she’s back in Savannah, she knows an annulment is the only way to protect herself. Then she learns she’s pregnant...
Kate reached into her pants pocket and pulled out something.
“Chloe made this for me tonight,” Kate said. “While all the other little girls were painting rocks to leave in Forsyth Park, Chloe came up to me and pressed this into my hand. She told me she’d painted it for me and wanted me to keep it.”
Kate handed the small colorful stone to Aidan.
On one side, it said I love my family in rudimentary bold blue letters. On the other side, Chloe had painted a man, and a woman with flowing red hair. Between the two of them was a little girl with curly blond hair holding the hands of the man and woman. The three were encircled by the outline of a red heart.
“This is just...” Her eyes glistened with tears, but she was smiling as she looked at the rock Chloe had painted for her. “You and Chloe mean the world to me, Aidan.” She put her hand on her stomach. “This little baby and I are so lucky to be part of this family. It’s overwhelming, really.”
“We’re lucky to have you. You complete us. Or maybe we should say that we complete each other. Let’s never forget how fortunate we are.”
Kate closed her fingers around the rock and nodded. He pulled her into his arms...
* * *
THE SAVANNAH SISTERS: One historic inn, two meddling matchmakers, three Savannah sisters
Dear Reader,
I’m a sucker for a second-chance-at-love story. I’m of the school that if you tried once and it didn’t work, maybe one—or both—of you had some things to figure out. Usually, it’s personal growth.
However, just because it didn’t work the first time, doesn’t negate the chemistry that brought the couple together the first time around. That’s the case with Kate and Aidan. They dated in high school, but they were just too young to make it work. Over the course of The Savannah Sisters trilogy, they rediscovered each other. In this conclusion to the series, they get their own love story—plus a surprise they never expected.
I hope you enjoy it as much as I loved writing it. Please drop me a line and let me know your thoughts. I love to hear from readers. You can reach me at [email protected].
Warmly,
Nancy
Her Savannah Surprise
Nancy Robards Thompson
National bestselling author Nancy Robards Thompson holds a degree in journalism. She worked as a newspaper reporter until she realized reporting “just the facts” bored her silly. Now that she has much more content to report to her muse, Nancy loves writing women’s fiction and romance full-time. Critics have deemed her work “funny, smart and observant.” She resides in Florida with her husband and daughter. You can reach her at Facebook.com/nrobardsthompson.
Books by Nancy Robards Thompson
Harlequin Special Edition
The Savannah Sisters
A Down-Home Savannah Christmas
Southern Charm & Second Chances
The Fortunes of Texas: Rulebreakers
Maddie Fortune’s Perfect Man
The Fortunes of Texas: The Secret Fortunes
Fortune’s Surprise Engagement
The Fortunes of Texas: Rambling Rose
Betting on a Fortune
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
This book is dedicated to my husband, Michael, because of you, I am living my dream. I love you.
Also to Susan Gorman for our shared love of corgis.
Thank you for helping me name Zelda’s corgi, Bear.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Epilogue
Excerpt from The Secret Between Them by Helen Lacey
Chapter One
The only thing worse than the morning-after walk of shame was waking up married in Las Vegas and not remembering how it happened.
Kate Clark’s left thumb found her ring finger. The presence of the cold metal band that Aidan Quindlin, her on-again-off-again sweetheart since high school, had presumably slid into place last night sent her ducking into fetal position as she made herself small under the soft white cotton sheet. Because maybe if she made herself tiny enough, she would disappear before Aidan, who was sleeping soundly next to her, woke up.
Kate’s whole family had gathered in Vegas for a weeklong celebration of her grandmother Gigi’s marriage to her longtime love, Charles Weathersby. It had been a fun party, with delicious food and free-flowing drinks.
Kate had not gotten drunk. She couldn’t have been. She had only had a couple of sips of Love Potion Number Nine, the signature cocktail of the Weathersby wedding reception. Granted, Kate had never been much of a drinker. The so-called Love Potion had been a sickeningly sweet concoction that tasted like a mix of grape juice, cough medicine and toilet bowl cleaner. Not that she had ever tasted toilet bowl cleaner, but she could imagine.
The drink had tasted so bad that she hadn’t been able to stomach more than two sips.
How could anyone end up in a drunken, marriage-minded stupor after only two sips?
So there was no way she could blame her Elvis wedding on the alcohol.
Unless Love Potion Number Nine was that potent. Doubtful, but...why were the details of last night so foggy?
Kate rolled over onto her back and opened her eyes, blinking at the ceiling. Her stomach was upset, but she didn’t have a headache. She stole a glance to her right. Aidan was still beside her, looking gorgeous even as he slept. She squeezed her eyes shut again, trying to sort out what had been a dream and what really happened. Because she had had some crazy dreams last night, dreams that were merging and blending with the surreal images of what might’ve happened last night to get this ring on her finger. But she couldn’t be sure.
She recalled a gangly Elvis officiant. The way she remembered it, after he had said, “I now pronounce you husband and wife,” he had burst into a heartfelt rendition of “Jailhouse Rock.”
Kate remembered insisting it wasn’t their wedding song, then gangly Elvis had changed keys and started crooning “Don’t Be Cruel.”
Surely that part was a dream. What kind of a wedding chapel would offer those song choices for the recessional? An Elvis-themed wedding chapel, of course.
It had to have been a dream, because she remembered turning in circles, looking for Aidan, only to find him up on the dais singing “It’s Now Or Never” to her.
Obviously, she had already taken the now-or-never sentiment to heart.
It must’ve been her guilty conscience working overtime, because she didn’t want to be cruel. Not to Aidan. Not again, like the times before. But she didn’t want to be married, either.
It wasn’t him she was rejecting. Good, kind, solid Aidan.
This was definitely all on her.
Panic skittered through her. Why had they done thi
s?
Why? Because the joy radiating from Gigi and Charles had been almost palpable. It had been contagious. That much, she remembered. Who would not get a little sentimental when they watched their eighty-five-year-old grandmother finally marry the love of her life?
Kate vaguely remembered the entire family dancing to the song “Come On, Eileen.” They had also danced to “Love Potion Number Nine,” the song with the same name as the wedding punch. She cringed at the foggy memory.
What did they put in that stuff? Whatever it was, it should come with a disclaimer. Surely a couple of sips wouldn’t have made her lose her mind.
And yet she’d woken up married.
Kate also remembered looking at Gigi and Charles, and suddenly fearing that she would end up alone in the world. She had turned to Aidan—and she always turned to Aidan, didn’t she? Last night she had turned to him and thought, I should propose to him right now. Toss it up to fate. If he said yes, she would stop second-guessing love. She had to stop running. Because she would never find anyone better than Aidan Quindlin.
That part was clear and decidedly real.
So was the moment she and Aidan had exited the banquet hall. Kate had tugged on his hand. He had turned to her, smiling, his eyes saying yes even before she had popped the question.
She groaned inwardly, throwing her arm over her eyes.
Just breathe. And think logically.
Of course, there was always the chance that Aidan would be just as horrified to wake up married to her.
She took a few more deep breaths and let her mind sift through the facts.
Obviously, the “Jailhouse Rock/Don’t Be Cruel/It’s Now or Never” medley had been her subconscious screaming at her. Gangly Elvis had been real. Or had he?
Someone had married them. She just wasn’t clear on who.
Was it legally binding if she couldn’t remember the officiant? Couldn’t remember saying I do, couldn’t remember exchanging vows?
How could it be legal if she hadn’t remembered what she had to do for the rest of her life?
Covering herself with the top sheet, she slid up into a sitting position, leaning against the quilted headboard, drawing her knees to her chest.
On the nightstand next to the bed was a small white book that looked like a photo album. She picked it up and opened it. The first page contained what looked like wedding vows:
I (name), take you (name), to by my husband/wife, secure in the understanding that you will be my forever partner in life...
There was more, but her head was swimming and she couldn’t get past the fact that their names weren’t even filled in. It was so generic.
She flipped the page and found what appeared to be a marriage license. Not only were their names filled in, she recognized her signature, even if she didn’t remember signing.
She snapped the book shut. Her stomach roiled and a clammy film of hot panic encased her like a second skin. She lowered her head to her knees, willing the sick feeling to pass. But like the gold band constricting her ring finger, the sensation only became more oppressive.
“Good morning, Mrs. Quindlin.”
She jumped at the sound of Aidan’s voice. She lifted her head to see him turning onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow. He touched her face with a big, gentle hand, raised himself up more so he could kiss her lips.
She adored his lips. But she didn’t necessarily want to be married to them.
“Good morning.” She managed to push the words through knotted vocal cords.
“You okay?” he asked.
No. I’m not okay. How can this be okay? Nothing will ever be okay again. Don’t you understand that?
Not until they fixed this. And the only way they could fix it would be to somehow get unmarried. Kate glanced around the opulent suite, feeling like a cornered animal who needed a way out.
Surely lots of people who made the impetuous choice to let gangly Elvis marry them in a quirky little Vegas chapel had next-day wedding regret? Didn’t they? Surely there was an escape clause? There had to be. You had ninety days to return a toaster to Target. Something as huge and life altering as marriage had to come with some kind of buyer’s remorse safety net, didn’t it?
The problem was, Aidan didn’t seem to share her horror.
And he had called her Mrs. Quindlin. It was just registering.
“Talk to me.” Aidan pushed himself into a sitting position mirroring hers. The muscles of his biceps bunched and relaxed in the process.
“What did we do, Aidan?”
“We got married.” He reached out and tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear, letting his finger trail down her jawline.
“Talk to me,” he said again. His voice was neutral, neither happy nor regretful, neither supportive nor reproachful. That, in itself, ignited a spark of hope in Kate. Maybe, for her sake, he had been holding in his regrets. Leave it to Aidan to be strong for both of them.
“How do you feel about it?” she asked, testing the waters. A smile spread over his handsome face and, in an instant, Kate’s heart sank. She knew she was doomed—doomed to hurt him again, doomed to wreck the best thing that had ever happened to her. That was what marriage did to good people—to good couples who couldn’t leave well enough alone. It started a slow erosion that destroyed even the strongest relationships.
“I’m happy, Kate. How else would I feel?”
Heavy silence hung between them.
He laughed, an uneasy sound. “Maybe I should be asking you how you feel about marrying me. Since that seems to be the burning question.”
He was smiling at her in that good-natured way of his, but there was a note of caution in his eyes. He was so handsome. Anyone with a heart would melt at the sight of those brown eyes and that careless brown hair that was just a little too long but looked sexy as hell on him. Anyone with a lick of sense would realize she was the luckiest woman in the world to have the love of a man like Aidan Quindlin.
But did he love her? Love had never come up in their conversations. And she couldn’t remember if either of them had mentioned it last night. Surely she would have remembered that?
Anyone who was less broken than she was would be making mad passionate love to that man right now and celebrating their marriage instead of sitting on the bed feeling sick to her stomach as she struck the first blows that would shatter this fragile new turn in their relationship.
“Aidan, we shouldn’t have done this.” Her eyes welled with the unshed tears she had been trying to hold back. “You deserve so much better than—” She couldn’t bring herself to say it.
“Better than what, Kate? How can it get better than being married to you?”
“You don’t love me, though.”
He flinched. “Why would you say that?”
“Because you’ve never said the words I love you, Kate.”
“They’re just words.”
“Yeah,” Kate said. “Four big words.”
“I guess I’m more of a believer in walking the walk rather than talking the talk.”
His voice had an edge now. He leaned back against the headboard, crossing his arms over his flawless, bare chest. Kate hugged her knees even closer as she took in the sheer beauty of him, hating herself for ruining everything and trying to ignore the fact that he still hadn’t said he was in love with her, even after she went so far as to prod him.
She died a little inside, thinking about how needy she must seem.
Of all things, she hated to seem needy.
“Aidan, you deserve better than an alcohol-induced, spur-of-the-moment Vegas wedding.”
He frowned. “I wasn’t drunk. Were you drunk?”
“No. Umm... I only had a couple of sips of that horrid drink. But I don’t know, Aidan. Last night is a little fuzzy.”
He squinted her. “Are yo
u telling me you don’t remember last night?”
Kate rubbed her eyes as if she could scrub away the gauzy veil that made everything hazy. “No, I do. Some of it, anyway. I just think we got caught up in the moment. I think we got carried away. And that drink they served didn’t help. I think it hit me hard, Aidan. What’s in a Love Potion Number Nine anyway?”
“For starters, nine shots of alcohol,” he said.
“What? Nine shots? No wonder I feel like death this morning,” she said. “That’s enough to give a person alcohol poisoning. I’m glad I only had a couple of sips. Since I don’t drink much, maybe it was enough to send me over the edge.”
She shivered at the vile memory.
Aidan slid an arm around her and pulled her closer. She nestled into the warmth of him, breathing in his scent—hints of his cologne mixed with sleep and a manly note that was uniquely him. For a fleeting moment, she wished they could stay just like that. Just the two of them, safe from the harsh realities of the outside world. They were so good when it was just the two of them like this. No pressures. No marriage licenses.
“I’ll go down to the lobby and get us some coffee. You probably need some water, too. You might be dehydrated. Water will make you feel better.”
Maybe so. But probably not. Can you pick up an annulment while you’re out?
Because it went a lot deeper than rehydrating. How could she feel better about something that should have never happened in the first place?
This was...permanent.
She braced her elbows on her knees and rested her head in her hands, covering her eyes, leaning away from him, shutting out the world. Aidan was such a good guy. He wasn’t a pushover, but he was honest and patient, almost to the point of being overindulgent with her, cutting her slack for her moods and whims. Because she wasn’t an easy person to love.
He was the steady force she so desperately needed for balance.
Maybe if she kept reminding herself of that, she could talk some sense into herself.
Look at how he was giving her a pass for freaking out over waking up married to him when he seemed so totally okay with it. That was a case in point for his goodness. He was even willing to go get her coffee and water, no doubt a subtle way to give her a chance to pull herself together. He would do that rather than get all bristly over the fact that she felt sick to her stomach rather than giddy with joy at realizing they were married.
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