Only for You

by Melissa Foster

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN MONDAY EVENING BODHI and Bridgette sat in her car in front of his house making out like horny teenagers. Willow and Zane had invited them to an impromptu dinner at their house, and Roxie and Dan were bringing Louie with them. Bridgette had stopped by after work to pick up Bodhi, and he’d been devouring her ever since. He took the kiss deeper, and she reached across the seat and palmed his cock. They’d been insatiable since their trip, and he didn’t want to stop, but . . . “We’re never getting out of this driveway if you do that.” She yanked the button open and pushed her hands into his briefs. “Mm-hm.” “Baby.” He groaned and shifted in the seat to give her more room. “You’re not going to believe this, but I’ve never made out in a car like this.” Her eyes flamed. “How can I stop now, knowing that?” She lowered her mouth over the head of his cock and used her tongue to drive him out of his mind. “Holy shit, Bridgette.” He reclined the seat, and she made a sound that vib

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN BODHI HAD STEPPED on a land mine, and he was terrified of making a move. He hadn’t meant for his feelings to tumble out, but for the briefest of seconds he’d forgotten who he was and what was at stake. Bridgette looked like she was going to fall apart any second, and he needed to get to her without making things worse. “Who wants dessert?” Roxie burst into the room, reaching for Louie, and saving Bodhi’s ass. “Me!” Louie cheered, and happily climbed out of Bodhi’s grip and into hers. “Good idea,” Willow said, her eyes darting between Bodhi and Bridgette. “We’ll—” Ben pushed to the front of the group and herded them toward the stairs. “Downstairs, everyone. The ticklefest is over.” He glanced over his shoulder and gave Bodhi a look that told him he had his back. When they were safely out of earshot, Bodhi quietly closed the door and went to Bridgette as she sat down on the edge of the bed. He stood before her and took her hands in his, telling himself it would be easier

  CHAPTER NINETEEN AFTER FIELDING HER family’s overprotective phone calls for two days, Bridgette was thrilled to get away with Bodhi Wednesday night. She loved her family and appreciated their concerns, but she wanted to enjoy these last few days with Bodhi without thinking about how much it would hurt when he left Saturday evening. They knew the reason for her situation. Bodhi had taken the time to talk with each of them Monday night. Bridgette had been floored to find out that while she was on the couch with Louie, Bodhi had told them about the dangers that came with his job and about losing his father. Later that night, after Louie was asleep in his bed, and after they’d made love, they’d stayed up for hours talking. She’d wondered if he’d ever considered doing something else with his life, though she hadn’t voiced the question. He’d told her about the friends he’d lost and the families they’d left behind. He’d gone on to tell her about the men and women he’d rescued, and she’d heard

  CHAPTER TWENTY BRIDGETTE LOOKED CUTE as hell sitting at the counter in one of Bodhi’s T-shirts, eating chocolate chip waffles. Her hair was still damp, and she wore the sexy cutoffs she’d had on earlier. She had the hazy look of a contented lover, and he knew he’d remember that look forever. She finished eating and pushed her plate to the side. He leaned in for a sticky, syrupy kiss, and she laughed against his lips. “That, Bridgette Dalton, is one of my favorite things about you.” “Sticky kisses?” He kissed her again. “You’re not afraid to laugh when we’re kissing. You’re not afraid to be yourself, or speak your mind, or talk about difficult subjects.” Or make hard decisions. “Bridge, I’m blown away by what you’ve done tonight. This cabin, the waffles . . .” He tucked her hair behind her ear and pulled her closer. “Thank you for not being afraid to let my memories of my father into our lives.” “A very special man once told me that real love never dies. I think all love should be celeb

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE THE NEXT MORNING Bodhi and Bridgette woke before the sun to the sounds of leaves rustling. Bridgette curled up against Bodhi as a skunk made its way across the yard. After it disappeared into the brush, Bridgette couldn’t resist knocking “have sex on a hammock” off the bucket list she didn’t have, and Bodhi was all too happy to help her out with the precarious proposition. After nearly tumbling off the hammock and ending up in hysterics—and somehow still producing two incredible orgasms—they went inside and showered. Bridgette called Willow, who she knew would be getting ready to start baking, and checked on Louie. He was still fast asleep. After thanking Willow so many times they ended up laughing, she and Bodhi went for the walk they’d missed last night. They sat on the rocky ridge overlooking Sweetwater and watched the sunrise. “How is it possible that we’ve only had a little more than two weeks together and it feels like years?” “Time is a funny thing,” Bodhi sai

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO FRIDAY MORNING WHEN they headed over to the Love Family Orchard, located at the edge of town, Bodhi worried it might already be picked clean. They were greeted by several friendly, older dogs and a crowd of people milling around an old-fashioned pole-barn-turned-fruit-stand that reminded Bodhi of the orchards he’d visited as a kid. It was busy from the minute they arrived, but with acres of fruit trees, there were plenty of peaches to go around. They’d been there for almost two hours, and had spent more time playing with the dogs than picking peaches. But they’d picked enough for at least two pies. “Bodhi?” Louie asked as Bodhi lifted him up to pick a peach from the top of a tree. “Yeah, buddy?” He felt Bridgette’s hand on his back. They’d been sneaking touches all morning, and he almost hated to lower Louie to the ground after he picked a peach, wanting more of Bridgette. They’d gotten good at hiding their relationship, but Bodhi had caught himself reaching for Brid

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE LATER THAT EVENING, Louie and Bridgette played superheroes in the backyard, donning capes and eye masks and chasing invisible villains, while Bodhi cooked hamburgers—and imagined Bridgette wearing that mask later, in the bedroom. He knew he should start putting up barriers, find that cold place he’d lived within for so long, but no part of him wanted to do that. He’d spent a lifetime being strong. Didn’t everyone deserve to be weak at some point? At least for a little while? They packed the burgers and a picnic dinner, and took Dahlia down to the lake. Large white tents were set up along the fairgrounds, and orange cones marked off the parking area, in preparation for the Peach Festival tomorrow. They set out their blanket by the water and ate dinner while Louie told them about plans he and Zane had made to build a tree fort in the backyard. Jealousy gnawed at Bodhi over another man, even an uncle, being the one to do those things with Louie. As he listened to Loui

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR THE PEACH FESTIVAL was one of many community celebrations in Sweetwater, and every year Bridgette tried to remember why those celebrations had felt too small town for her when she was younger. She hadn’t missed the festivals until she’d returned home and attended them with baby Louie in her arms and realized how wonderful their close-knit community actually was. All the local businesses shut down for the event, and practically the whole town showed up, which had given her a renewed sense of safety and comfort that she’d never thought she needed. Now, as they gathered along Main Street, climbing into flatbed trailers full of hay for the annual Peach Parade, she knew she’d rely on this community again after Bodhi left later that afternoon. The trailers had been decorated by local middle- and high-school kids, painted with pictures of peaches and orchards, with orange and red streamers hanging beneath signs on the sides that read, SWEETWATER PEACH FESTIVAL, HAVING A PE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE “I’D RATHER GIVE birth again than say goodbye to you,” Bridgette said as they stood in his living room waiting for Dahlia to come in from the backyard. The house felt hollow without Bodhi’s tools and Dahlia’s dog bed. “And believe me, it’s painful pushing a little human out of your body.” He tugged her against him, hating himself more with every passing second. And the worst part about it was that even the thought of her having babies made him want them to be his. Man up. Face this head-on and get the hell out of here. The hard-ass in him was no match for his heart. He held her tighter.
“Bodhi?” she said shakily. “Is this really it?” He put enough space between them to see her face. Christ, that was a mistake. Tears spilled from her eyes, slicing him right down the center of his chest. “I’m sorry, baby. I feel like I’m staring down the barrel of a gun. If we stick to our here and now plan, the gun goes off when I drive away. Once and done. And if we don’t, it’ll be

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX BODHI DROVE WITH the music blaring and the window down, anxious for any distraction from the ache eating away at him. But there was no escape from thoughts of Bridgette. She’d already become as vital as the air he breathed. Too edgy to be trapped in the truck, he pulled off at the next exit and found a grassy area to walk Dahlia. He paced the lawn, wondering why he was putting them both through this. He should get his ass back in the car, drive back to Sweetwater, and tell her he was wrong, that he didn’t want to let their love go. “Come on, Dahlia.” She jumped into the truck. Bodhi glanced at the photo album and knew he couldn’t drive away. What if it was months before he was called in for a mission? He wanted whatever time he could get with Bridgette and Louie. Feeling like he’d pushed a five-hundred-pound gorilla off his back, he climbed into the truck and pulled out his phone to call Bridgette. He petted Dahlia again and drew in a deep breath. Maybe they’d get lu

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN “HANG ON,” BRIDGETTE said to Talia, who was on speakerphone. She made a U-turn and came to a fast stop on the side of the road in front of Chopstix. Her laptop and purse flew off the passenger seat. “Darn it. One sec.” She put the car in park and leaned over to pick up her things. The bracelet Bodhi had given her slid down her wrist, and a pang of longing shot through her. She hadn’t heard from him since he’d left almost two weeks ago. Not that she’d expected to, but she’d thought his training was only for a week, and she’d hoped he might be as lonely for her as she was for him. When she’d bought Louie his new backpack for kindergarten, he kept talking about how he couldn’t wait to show it to Bodhi, piling more longing onto the already mountainous ache. Every night when she put Louie to bed and tucked him in with Jeter, his Yankees hat hanging on the bedpost, she had to stifle her heartache. She’d cried herself to sleep more nights than not, but she considered gett

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT “WHAT’S UP, STINKY butt?” Louie said when they walked in through the back door of Willow’s bakery Wednesday morning. “Louie Dalton, you apologize to your aunt right this second.” Bridgette shook her head, sharing a silent laugh with Willow. “I’m sorry,” Louie said despondently. “Isn’t kindergarten wonderful?” Bridgette bent at the waist, hugging Louie around his shoulders from behind. “In the span of three days he’s learned all sorts of new phrases.” “Wait until middle school.” Willow motioned with her finger for Louie to come closer. He walked over with a serious, worried expression. “I’m sorry, Auntie Willow. I won’t call you stinky butt anymore.” Willow pointed to her cheek. “Put a little sugar on it.” He kissed her cheek, and she said, “What does Mom say Mr. Smarty Pants can have this morning?” “I had French toast.” Louie grabbed his stomach. “I’m too full to eat.” Willow’s eyes widened. “French toast?” “Uh-huh, and we have show-and-tell today.” Louie rummaged

  EPILOGUE BRIDGETTE SLITHERED INTO her dress and gathered her hair over one shoulder. “Bodhi, can you please zip me up?” It was Thanksgiving, and they were late for dinner at her parents’ house, where Louie had spent the afternoon helping his grandparents prepare for their first holiday in their new home. Bodhi’s mother had moved in next door, and she, too, was at Bridgette’s parents’ house helping them prepare. Bodhi slid his hands inside her dress and groped her breasts, feeling her up from behind. “Hey, Handsy Jack. You just had me.” She turned her face, and he captured her mouth in a sweet, loving kiss. “Your point?” He brushed his thumbs over her nipples, reigniting the inferno he’d just finished smoldering. His hips pressed against her ass. “My point”—Lord, that feels good—“is that we’re already late. And your mother and Shira are both waiting for you to arrive.” She’d met Shira shortly after Bodhi had returned, when she’d come to spend the weekend, and they’d hit it off like sist

  A NOTE FROM MELISSA I have been excited to write Bridgette’s story since I first met her in Logan Wild’s book, Wild Boys After Dark: Logan. I knew she needed a very strong, independent man, someone who had the ability to love her son, Louie, with his whole heart and bring out the side of herself that she’d ignored for so long. Bodhi Booker surpassed my greatest hopes, and I hope you loved reading their love story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Each of Bridgette’s siblings will be featured in their own books. Sign up for my newsletter to keep up to date with new Sugar Lake releases and to receive an exclusive short story (www.MelissaFoster.com/News). If this is your first Melissa Foster book, you might enjoy my big-family romance collection, Love in Bloom. Characters from each series make appearances in future books, so you never miss an engagement, wedding, or birth. A complete list of all series titles is included at the start of this book. Happy reading!

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS Writing Bodhi and Bridgette’s story was very difficult for me, as I don’t usually write about couples who agree to break up. My heart ached for them, and I’d like to thank Lisa Bardonski and Lisa Filipe for giving me tough love during the writing process and convincing me to stick to my guns. I needed it. A special thank-you to fan Sas Mitchell, for help with research on flowers and their meanings. I chat with fans often in my fan club, and they inspire me on a daily basis. If you haven’t joined yet, please do. You never know when you’ll end up in one of my books, as several members of my fan club have already discovered (www.Facebook.com/groups/MelissaFosterFans). If this is your first Melissa Foster book, you have many wickedly sexy and fiercely loyal heroes and sassy, empowered heroines to catch up on in my Love in Bloom big-family romance collection. You can find a full list of my books on my website (www.MelissaFoster.com/Melissas-Books). If you don’t yet follow me

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR Photo © 2013 Melanie Anderson Melissa Foster is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling and award-winning author of more than sixty-five books, including The Real Thing in the Sugar Lake series. Her novels have been recommended by USA Today’s book blog, Hagerstown magazine, the Patriot, and more. She has also painted and donated several murals to the Hospital for Sick Children in Washington, DC. She enjoys discussing her books with book clubs and reader groups, and she welcomes an invitation to your event. Visit Melissa on her website, www.MelissaFoster.com, or chat with her on Twitter melissa_foster and on Facebook at www.facebook.com/MelissaFosterAuthor.

  PRAISE FOR MELISSA FOSTER

  “You can always rely on Melissa Foster to deliver a story that’s fresh, emotional and entertaining. Make sure you have all night, because once you start you won’t want to stop reading. Every book’s a winner!”

  —New York Times bestselling author Brenda Novak

  “What sets Melissa Foster apart are her compelling characters who you care about . . . desperately. I dare you to read the first chapter and not be hooked.”

  —New York Times bestselling author M. J. Rose

  “With her wonderful characters and resonating emotions, Melissa Foster is a must-read author!”

  — New York Times bestselling author Julie Kenner

  “Melissa Foster is synonymous with sexy, swoony, heartfelt romance!”

  — New York Times bestselling author Lauren Blakely

  “I’m highly addicted to her stories, and still want to kick my own behind for taking so long to finally read her.”

  —The Power of Three Readers

  “The author’s writing was amazing, and to be completely honest here, to get me to read a subgenre I would not normally touch with a barge pole shows that her writing can make even the pickiest reader fall in love with her books—you just have to give them a chance.”

  —Cara’s Book Boudoir

  “Melissa creates quite a palate of feelings for the reader to experience all through the novel.”

  —Cruising
Susan

  “One of the greatest contemporary romance authors of all time.”

  —Underneath the Covers

  “Melissa Foster has to be my favorite author out there.”

  —Short and Sassy Book Blurbs

  “Melissa does a great job giving us stories with characters whose stories will keep you engrossed.”

  —Wicked Babes Blog

  “She has a way with words that endears a family in our hearts, and watching each sibling and friend go on to meet their true love is such a joy!”

  —Thoughts of a Blonde

  “Melissa Foster is a prolific author who writes wonderful romance stories.”

  —Alpha Book Club

  “Let’s be honest, Melissa Foster is known for her writing of great characters who seem so real that you root for them all to have their HEA.”

  —I’d Rather Be Reading

  MORE BOOKS BY MELISSA

  Have you read Melissa’s Love in Bloom big-family romance collection? Each book may be enjoyed as a stand-alone novel or read as part of the larger series. Characters from each family appear in other Love in Bloom family series. For more details on the Love in Bloom series, visit www.MelissaFoster.com.

  SNOW SISTERS

  Sisters in Love

  Sisters in Bloom

  Sisters in White

  THE BRADENS

  Lovers at Heart

  Destined for Love

  Friendship on Fire

  Sea of Love

  Bursting with Love

  Hearts at Play

  Taken by Love

  Fated for Love

  Romancing My Love