“It can’t be avoided. I have a life there. Not only a job, but friends. People I care about. I’m not going to just disappear from their lives. I’m going back and I’m going to say goodbye properly. And I need to do that now, get it all taken care of before I get too far along.”
Okay. What she said made sense, as much as he hated to admit it. “Would you just, please, marry me before you go?”
Her flashing eyes went soft. “Oh, Conn...” She scooted closer. He reached out and pulled her onto his lap, right there on the floor between the coffee table and the couch. With a sigh, she rested her head on his shoulder. “No. Not yet.”
He squeezed her tighter, buried his face in her dark hair. “Wrong answer.”
She looked up at him them. “Please try to understand. I love you, but I’m not rushing this thing with us. I’m just not.”
He had to ask. “Are you trying to say you have doubts about marrying me?”
“No, I am not.” She surged up and gave him a hard, quick kiss. “I have no doubts about you and me and our future together. I do want to marry you. And I will, I promise you.”
“When?”
“Can we just give it a while this time around? Give ourselves a little space to work things out? I was twenty when we got married the first time. I think we rushed it. I don’t want to rush it this time.”
He stroked a hand down her back and toyed with a long curl of her hair. “So then, tell me...”
She snuggled in closer again. “Hmm?”
He wrapped her hair around his hand, gave the thick, silky mass a tug until she looked at him once more. Her eyes made all the right promises. He took heart. “When you come back to Valentine Bay after those proper goodbyes, will you move in here, with me?”
“Yes, I will.” Her smile could light up the blackest night. “There is no place else I’d rather live than right here with you.”
* * *
Connor really did hope she would maybe stick around for a week at least.
Not Aly. She booked a nonstop flight to JFK that left Portland International at 9:30 a.m. on Saturday.
Thursday night, they shared a goodbye dinner with her family. She saved the big announcement about the baby for later, though Cat knew. Aly had confided in her mom earlier that day and sworn her to secrecy. She did tell them all that she would be moving home to stay in the next couple months.
“What? Moving in with Mom and Dad?” demanded Dante.
She caught Connor’s hand and wove their fingers together. “This guy here asked me to live with him. I couldn’t say yes fast enough.”
Ernesto raised a toast to that.
And Dante piped up with, “So, when do you plan to get another ring on her finger?”
“That’s just rude,” Aly muttered.
Dante shrugged. “Maybe. I still want to know.”
Connor answered with a rueful smile. “I already asked her. She said, ‘Not yet.’”
Pascal’s wife, Sandy, fist-pumped. “Good for you, Alyssa. Don’t let the man railroad you.”
Everybody laughed except Connor. He was trying to be cool about it, but he didn’t feel all that cool. He wanted to marry her and he wanted that to happen soon. Aly leaned close for a kiss and he felt at least a little mollified.
Friday, Aly turned in her Mazda at the car rental place in Valentine Bay, and that afternoon, Connor drove her to Portland.
For old times’ sake, they stopped at Camp 18 for burgers with the works. Before they hit the road again, they took pictures of each other with the vintage logging equipment and various chainsaw sculptures that decorated the property around the log cabin restaurant. That night, they stayed at a hotel by the airport. They made love to the whooshing sounds of planes coming in and taking off.
Saturday morning came much too soon. They ate the complimentary hotel breakfast and he took her to the terminal. He would have parked and stuck by her side all the way to Security, but she insisted he drop her off at Departures. He hauled her suitcases out to the curb and grabbed her tight in his arms for one last kiss.
“I love you,” they both said in the same breath.
She promised to text him as soon as she landed.
He drove home missing her, feeling antsy inside his own skin, yet at the same time knowing he could trust her word, that she would be coming home to him, that it was all going to work out right. They would marry again—as soon as she was “ready,” whatever the hell that meant—marry and have a baby, and this time around what they had together would last.
Maurice was waiting on the front step when Connor turned into his driveway. As he pulled into the garage, the cat slipped in, too, and ran up the stairs into the house ahead of him.
The place felt empty without Aly. Connor dropped to the sofa, downright bereft. Maurice jumped up beside him and slithered into his lap. Connor sat there for a good hour, petting the damn cat like some hopeless emo fool, before he took the sneaky feline back to Janine’s.
Aly called him a couple hours later from JFK while she was waiting to pick up her luggage. It didn’t seem possible that she could be a continent away.
“The flight was perfect, uneventful,” she said. “God, I miss you way too much already.”
Then come home, damn it, he thought, but didn’t say. Because he was no longer a selfish kid and he respected her right to do things her way. Instead, he said he loved her and missed her, too. She said she would text him when she got to her place—and she did.
Sunday, they texted back and forth randomly. She sent him pictures of her closet with the caption, My pride and joy.
He replied, Gorgeous.
She texted back an eye-roll emoji.
She seemed happy and upbeat, like everything was fine with her.
He felt like crap.
It was more than just missing her. Something somehow wasn’t right.
Monday morning, he woke up—and he got it. It was like the flash of lightning in a horror movie, where the cringing coed suddenly gets an eyeful of Jason Voorhees lurking in the corner.
Only, in this case the bad news wasn’t a guy in a hockey mask with a machete. In this case, the problem was his own behavior.
He really hadn’t changed that much in the years they’d been apart. He was still the same selfish jerk.
That needed to stop.
Because it really wasn’t right that she should give up her dream job and the big-city life she loved. He needed to step up, make a few damn sacrifices.
He needed to prove to both of them that he really had grown up, that he finally understood the meaning of compromise. And for her, he would do a hell of a lot more than just compromise. He wanted her to have everything, her dream job, their baby, her life in New York. He wanted to make that happen for her, to be there for her in the truest way.
He texted her. Did you quit your job yet?
She wrote back, Not dealing with that or even going into the office until Wednesday. Stuff to do. Why?
Long story. Talk tonight—eight o’clock, your time?
Now you’re freaking me out.
It’s all good. Promise. Tonight?
All right. Tonight. She sent two hearts.
He sent back four. Because love? It made a guy an emo fool—and a happy one, at that.
* * *
That morning, Daniel had a meeting with a timber owner over near Westport. He didn’t get into the office until after two.
Connor greeted him with, “Got a minute? We need to talk.”
They went to Daniel’s private office and shut the door.
Daniel took off his jacket and tossed it on a chair. “You look like you could use a drink.” He poured them each a Scotch, neat, and they sat in the two easy chairs opposite the desk. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Alyssa. She went back to New York to wrap things up
there, then she’s coming home to Valentine Bay to live—with me. We’re having a baby.”
“Whoa.” Daniel gave him a slow grin. “I always knew she was the one for you.” He raised his glass. “Good news.”
“Yeah.”
They drank, set down their glasses and got up to share a hug and some mutual back-slapping.
“Congratulations,” said Daniel, as he sank to his chair again.
“Thanks, man.”
Daniel was frowning. “So then, why the grim face?”
“She loves her job. She doesn’t want to lose it. I think she just feels she should give it up and come back home, with the baby and all.”
“You’re moving to New York, then?”
It didn’t surprise Connor that his brother had already figured it out. Daniel was a quick study. He had to be, what with getting seven younger siblings and the family business dumped in his lap at eighteen, when their parents died.
Connor nodded. “I want to go, yeah. But I don’t want to leave you scrambling.”
Daniel sipped more Scotch. “There’s such a thing as the internet. You can work long-distance for a while, with trips home a couple of times a month. We’ll see how that plays out. And you can start bringing Andrew up to speed, giving him more responsibility.” Andrew Sykes was Connor’s second-in-command when it came to the money side of the business. “It’s going to be very manageable. This isn’t seven years ago.”
Things had been tougher back then. Daniel and his first wife, Lillie, had had some issues. All three of their younger sisters were still living at home, teenage girls on a mission to have their own way at any cost. At the time, it was just Daniel and Connor in the office, with a shared receptionist/secretary.
“It would have worked out even then,” Daniel said. “Stop telling yourself you had to stay.”
“I’m not. Not anymore.”
Daniel nodded. “Fair enough—and as for right now, we’re in good shape. Go.”
“Go, as in...?”
“Now. Tomorrow. As soon as you can get a flight.”
* * *
“What’s happening?” Aly asked when he called her that night. “Is everything okay?”
Just the sound of her voice made the world a better place. “I want to be with you. I’ll be there tomorrow.”
“What?” She laughed. “You’re not serious.”
“Check your email. I just sent you my flight information.”
“Hold on.” A second later, she let out a squeal.
He grinned at the sound. “I should be knocking on your door by five or six tomorrow night.”
“Oh, Conn. I can’t wait.”
“You sound breathless. I like that.”
“How long are you staying?”
“Can we talk about that when I get there?”
She made a growling noise. “I hate waiting around to find out what’s happening.”
“I promise, it’s good. Really good. I just want to be with you when we talk.”
Reluctantly, she agreed to do it his way.
* * *
Aly’s five-hundred-square-foot studio was in an upscale, glass-and-slate-fronted building on Leonard Street.
Connor gave his name and the doorman ushered him right in. Aly was waiting for him in the open front door of her ninth-floor apartment. He’d barely rolled his suitcase off the elevator when she flew into his arms.
“I don’t believe you’re actually here.” She kissed him.
One kiss was never enough. When he eased her down onto her feet again and grabbed the handle of his suitcase, she just kept on kissing him. They kind of staggered to her door, mouths fused together, with him dragging his suitcase along behind.
They’d been apart for three days, but it felt like a lifetime.
And the great thing about a studio? It wasn’t far at all from the door to the bed.
They spent a couple blissful hours getting reacquainted naked, after which she ordered a pizza from a place two blocks away and put on a giant pink shirt and a pair of lavender yoga pants that made him want to get bossy, to instruct her to bend over and lift up that shirt. When the pizza arrived, she got him a beer and they sat on the rumpled bed to eat.
“Talk,” she commanded, once they were both on their second slice.
He laid it on her. “I know you love your job. I don’t want you to have to quit. I think it’s time I did what I promised you I would do. I talked to Daniel and we worked it out. I’m moving to New York.”
Aly set her second slice back on the pizza box and asked in a soft, surprised voice, “Just like that?”
“Essentially, yeah. I’ll work for Valentine Logging long-distance, for a while at least. We’ll see how it goes.”
She tipped her head to the side, kind of studying him, a little smile flirting with the corners of that mouth he couldn’t wait to kiss again. “I have always loved you. I don’t even remember the time when I didn’t love you. There were some years when I wished that I didn’t. But now, Connor Bravo, all I want is the chance to be with you, loving you, until I draw my last breath.” She was still smiling, but those blue eyes gleamed with tears.
He shoved the pizza box aside and reached for her. She scrambled into his lap. He kissed the crown of her head and stroked her beautiful, tangled hair. “Don’t cry,” he coaxed. “Hey. It’s a good thing.”
She sniffed and tipped her head back to look up at him. He wiped a tear from one soft cheek and then the other. “I love that you’re willing to move across the country for me,” she said. “I love it so much, but...”
“‘But?’” Somehow, this wasn’t going down quite the way he’d expected. “What am I missing here?”
“Well, Connor, the thing is, I meant it when I said I want to move home.”
Should he have expected that? He hadn’t. He gulped. “You’re sure?”
“I am. I truly am. It’s time. I want to move home.”
“Damn. Aly.” He grabbed her close again and pulled her across his lap. “I really am ready, to move here. I’m not just saying it.”
She reached up, laid her soft hand against his cheek. “Thank you. But, well, do you mind if we just move home instead?”
“Are you absolutely sure?”
She grinned. “Didn’t I already answer that question?”
“You did. But I need you to know that I’m happy either way, as long as it’s you and me, together.”
She held his gaze so steadily. “I want to go home.”
He had no words. He kissed her instead.
The pizza fell off the end of the bed. He didn’t care and she didn’t seem to notice.
She was his, again, at last.
And this time he was never letting her go.
* * *
Connor decided to remain with Aly in New York for the next several weeks. There were a thousand and one things that had to be dealt with as she prepared to move home. He would help with all that.
The next day, she went in to work and gave notice. Right away, Jane was suggesting she telecommute for them and that at least she ought to consider letting them get her under contract as a consultant. Aly ended up agreeing to the consulting gig.
Friday was a big day. Aly and Connor went to her gynecologist. The doctor confirmed her pregnancy and gave her a due date in early May.
As for Aly’s hesitation about going ahead with their second marriage? That faded fast.
A week after Connor arrived at her door, on the ninth anniversary of their first marriage, she married him again. They said their vows right there in Manhattan at the Office of the City Clerk on Worth Street, with two of her girlfriends as their witnesses.
“I want something more, though,” she insisted in bed that night. “Maybe after the baby comes. A ceremony, a big reception. A party that says we made it. We ruined
everything and yet somehow, with a little help from a car wreck and the resulting partial amnesia caused by a blow to the head, we put it all back together better than ever.”
He reminded her that they couldn’t have another church wedding. “As far as the Catholic Church is concerned, we’ve never been unmarried.”
“I get that. And I’m not asking for another church wedding. I just want a killer party to celebrate how beautifully it’s all ended up. We made a big mess. We were a couple of pigheaded kids who blew it in the worst way. But we got past all that and found our way back to each other. Just look at us now. Happily married all over again.” She held up her ring finger. The emerald-cut solitaire she’d chosen at Tiffany’s sparkled in the light from the bedside lamp. “Which brings me back around to you, me, the baby, lots of Bravos and Santangelos and a celebration—yeah. I want it. We’re doing it. Maybe next October, with a harvest theme. It’ll be for our one-year anniversary and also the ten-year anniversary of our first marriage.” She grabbed his handsome face between her hands and kissed him hard and deep.
“Works for me,” he said.
“It’s going to be so great.”
He kissed the space between her eyebrows. “You can stop selling it. I already said yes.”
“Well, all right then.” Aly turned to her other side and settled under the covers with him wrapped around her, two spoons in a drawer.
She was smiling when she closed her eyes, remembering the years they’d had together and the lonely time they’d been apart. Life was full of mysteries and miracles. And she was one of the lucky ones, reunited at last with the man she’d loved all her life, the only man for her.
The one she could never forget.
* * *
Watch for Liam Bravo’s story,
The Right Reason to Marry
coming in December 2019
only from Harlequin Special Edition.
And check out the rest of the
Bravos of Valentine Bay miniseries:
The Nanny’s Double Trouble
A Husband She Couldn't Forget Page 17
