by Annie Rains
He set one of her books on the table in front of her.
“You want me to sign it for you?” she asked.
“I want you to answer the question,” he said, leaning forward and bracing his body between his extended arms on the table.
“What question?” Val noticed the crowd of people trickling out into the cold winter afternoon. The bookstore was emptying, and it was just her and Griffin in the front room now.
“I have another fantasy I want to fulfill with you,” he said, voice low so that only she could hear.
Her skin heated. They’d enacted a lot of fantasies since the summer. “Oh. What exactly do you have in mind?”
Griffin leaned farther forward until his face was so close to hers that all she could think about was kissing him. “You, me, a white dress and a tux in a little Seaside church.” He tapped the book in her hands, which were shaking again but not because of fear or the cold. “All you have to do is answer the question, Val.”
Val looked down as tears blurred her eyes. She opened the book to the title page where Griffin had scrawled a message.
Val, I was made to love you.
After that message, he’d added one simple question.
Forever?
A tear slipped down her cheek as she looked up again.
“All you have to say is yes. I love you, Val, and I want to spend the rest of my life showing you exactly how much. Will you marry me?”
Val hurried around the table and buried herself in his arms. Going up on tiptoes, she kissed his mouth, long and deep, until her knees went weak. When they finally pulled away from the kiss, she smiled at him, loving him more than she ever knew was possible. “I can’t imagine you in a tux.”
He smoothed her hair back as he continued to hold her, laughing softly. “Is that a yes?”
She nodded, laughing and crying at the same time. “Yes. I was made to love you, too, Griffin.”
To Rachel. I’m so glad we’re on this writing adventure together!
Acknowledgments
As always, I am so grateful to my husband, Sonny, for his unending support and enthusiasm. You are my hero!
Thank you to my children, who inspire and motivate me. I hope your hearts grow dreams bigger than mine, and that you chase those dreams just as hard—even harder—than I did!
To my agent, Sarah Younger: my cheerleader, counselor, and voice of reason. And to my editor, Junessa Viloria—you make my work a thousand times better, and I am so lucky to have you in my corner! I owe a huge thanks to the entire Penguin Random House/Loveswept team. I couldn’t ask for a better team of professionals! It is a huge honor to work with each and every one of you!
Thank you to Lisa Filipe! You are a HUGE blessing to me! This writing life is so much easier, and a lot more fun, now that I have you!
To my critique partner and writing BFF, Rachel Lacey (to whom this book is also dedicated). I love seeing your books come to life as much as my own! I look forward to your successes as much as my own! Thanks a million to my #girlswritenight crew: Rachel Lacey, Sidney Halston, April Hunt, and Tif Marcelo. Ditto everything above. You ladies inspire me and I love you all!
Thank you to John and the rest of the K-9 team that allowed me to spend a few hours learning what you do and finding inspiration!
I also want to thank my READERS! This last year has been amazing! I’ve enjoyed reading your mail and thoughts on this series! It means so much to me that you’ve opened your hearts to the characters and stories in my books!
And, as always, I want to thank God for every person listed here, and for every day that I’m able to wake up and put my fingers on the keyboard!
BY ANNIE RAINS
Welcome to Forever
Welcome Home, Cowboy
Welcoming the Bad Boy
PHOTO: SARAH SAVAGE PHOTOGRAPHY
ANNIE RAINS is a contemporary romance author who bases her small-town love stories in fictional towns on the coast of North Carolina. Raised in one of America’s largest military communities, Annie often writes about heroes who fight for their country, while also fighting for a place to call home and a good woman to love. When she isn’t writing, she’s spending time with her husband and three children or reading a book by one of her favorite authors.
annierains.com
@AnnieRains_
Pinterest.com/annie4094
Instagram.com/annierainsauthor
Find Annie Rains on Facebook
Read on for a sneak peek of the next book in Annie Rains’s Hero’s Welcome series
Welcome Home for Christmas
Available from Loveswept
Chapter 1
Troy Matthews’s morning had started off with a bang when a few grunts had decided to road race down the thirty-five-mile-per-hour back roads on base. Then a rebellious teen had issued a blanket threat against the military high school, an action warranting all of the MPs raiding the building. The kid had a big mouth, but that’s all he’d had, contrary to his claims of having more. He definitely wouldn’t be making Santa’s good list this year.
Then again, Troy thought, neither will I.
It was lunchtime now, and Troy could only imagine what the rest of the day might hold. He walked back into his office, thirsty for a Coke to accompany the stack of paperwork he was going to have to complete regarding the morning’s festivities, and stopped cold. He shared an office with fellow military police officer Griffin Black, who was already seated behind his desk and pretending not to notice that Troy had entered.
“What’s this?” Troy asked, frowning at the small Charlie Brown Christmas tree perching in a Styrofoam cup on his desk. A single string of tinsel was wrapped around it.
Griffin glanced toward him. “It’s a Christmas tree. I’m not giving up on you, buddy.”
Troy lifted the cup of tree and carried it to the opposite side of the room. His friend’s persistence was almost amusing. Almost.
“Busy morning,” Griffin commented. He’d been at the high school scene, too.
Troy sat behind his desk and nodded as he grabbed his Coke and popped the tab. “You can say that again.”
“Guess it’s true that Christmas brings out the crazy in people.”
Troy chuckled. “What’s January through November’s excuse?”
Griffin joined in his laughter. Troy expected Griffin to return to his work, but Griffin continued to stare across the distance between them.
“Am I just beautiful, or are you staring for a reason?” Troy asked, waggling his eyebrows.
“I need a favor.”
“More help training Jaws?” Jaws was Griffin’s K-9 partner.
“No. This isn’t about work.”
“Well, what then?”
“First, you have to say yes,” Griffin told him.
Troy turned his chair to face his friend. “To a favor that I don’t know about? Do you think I’m one of the Christmas crazies?”
Griffin shrugged. “My favor involves helping orphans, man. You wouldn’t turn that down, would you?”
Troy shook his head, setting his Coke down. “Of course not.” He’d been lucky enough to grow up in a family with two parents and three siblings, and he knew Griffin had been adopted. He didn’t like to think of kids who didn’t have anyone in the world. That had to be scary. And lonely.
Griffin nodded. “I can see it on your face. You’re going to say yes.”
“To helping orphans? Hell, yeah.” Troy nodded. Everyone might think he was being a scrooge this year because he didn’t want to celebrate Christmas, but he wasn’t heartless. He just didn’t want to do rounds with his older brother, David, at the Christmas dinner table again, or see his mother in tears over their feuding, like last year. Troy had chosen the military over running the family’s many businesses in Paradise Point, and he was proud of his service. His father, now passed, had also been proud of him. If David wasn’t, well, Troy couldn’t care less.
Griffin punched a triumphant fist into the air, a little t
oo happy about Troy’s agreeing.
Charlie Myer, the K-9 team’s kennel master, knocked on their office door. “Did he get you, too?” he asked Troy.
“I guess so,” Troy admitted. He just wasn’t sure what he’d gotten into yet.
“Well, you’re in good company. We’re all doing it.”
Troy nodded, narrowing his eyes at Griffin. “Doing what?” he asked. “What exactly is the favor?”
Griffin shrugged. “There’s going to be an auction at the Veterans’ Center in Seaside this Friday to raise money for presents for the children at Mercy’s Place. They were robbed last week, you know.”
“Yeah.” Troy had heard. What kind of asshole steals presents from orphans at Christmas? “What do you need me to donate?”
“Nothing too much. Just yourself,” Griffin said, one side of his mouth kicking up.
“Me?”
“A few hours of your time. That’s all, buddy. The idea is, with Seaside being a military town, spouses are gone more often than not. There’s a lot of honey-dos that aren’t getting done. So Allison Carmichael, the director at the Vet Center, is auctioning off volunteer Marines who are willing to do things like yard work, house repairs, washing the car.”
Troy didn’t see what the big deal was. “All right. Count me in.”
Griffin and Charlie exchanged a look that didn’t get past Troy. There was more that they weren’t saying. His officer’s gut was ringing like a security alarm. He was about to begin the interrogation when a call came over the radio.
MPs needed at the commissary.
“Lunch is over, guys,” Troy said, grabbing his keys. “The Christmas crazies are at it again.”
—
Allison stared at the list of men on her desk, all of them willing to donate their time for a good cause. She wanted to kiss each and every one of them. In a matter of days, everything had come together seamlessly. The Veterans’ Center had already been planning the holiday function for military spouses. It was a ready-made event for the fundraiser auction for the kids at Mercy’s Place. She had only one thing left to do for tomorrow’s party.
She needed wine to prime the pump.
Grabbing her purse, she headed for her car in the parking lot. There was a sandwich place next door to Seaside’s local wine shop. She could kill two birds with one stone and grab lunch while she was out.
A text came in from her mother as she plopped herself into her little car: You’re coming to the family’s Christmas Eve party next Friday, right?
Allison sighed. She was excited about tomorrow’s function for military spouses, but not so much about her family’s annual Christmas Eve party next Friday. She hated attending those gatherings. Her extended family, whom she loved dearly, were like well-intentioned vultures picking away at her: When are you settling down? Why are you still alone? Don’t you know that ripe-for-the-picking passed many moons ago?
Yes, Allison typed back, her index finger twitching with resistance.
Her phone dinged with another incoming message.
Bringing a guest? her mother wanted to know.
Allison could almost hear the tone of the typed words. Her mother was a psychologist at the Naval Hospital at Camp Leon. If Allison responded with a no, the psychobabble of why she wasn’t dating would commence. A yes would be a lie, of course, because her mother’s psychobabble was partially true. Allison was avoiding dating. Scared, tired, uninterested. Those were all among her reasons.
Not sure yet, she answered instead, taking the middle road. Sorry, Mom. Really busy. I’ll call you later.
Allison blew out a breath, promising herself she would indeed call her mother back later. After she’d primed her own pump. She was tired of defending herself. She was happily single right now, and could satisfy pretty much every need she had without a guy in her life.
Speaking of satisfying needs…
Allison spoke into the dictation app on her cellphone: “Buy more double-A batteries.” Then she flung her phone onto the passenger seat beside her and began her drive to Seaside’s finest wine store, Wine from the Vine. She’d grown up with its owner, but an older woman usually ran the shop.
The bell on the door rang behind Allison as she entered, and she headed straight for the blue-haired woman behind the register.
“Hi, I’m Allison Carmichael, the director at the Veterans’ Center. I left a message earlier in the week for Mr. Mason about the annual party for military spouses.”
The woman nodded sweetly. “Yes, of course. Mr. Mason told me you could pick out any wines you like, as much as you need, free of charge.”
Allison’s mouth dropped open. She’d been hoping to get a discount since she knew the owner, but she hadn’t expected this. “That’s very generous!”
The older woman nodded. “Mr. Mason is a very generous man, I’m sure you know.” She pointed to the store’s shopping baskets. “Go ahead, dear.”
Allison grabbed a basket and began to peruse the wines, some from the Mason family vineyards and others from vineyards across the country. She had picked out several bottles when the bell on the door rang again as someone walked in. Allison was in an inside aisle and couldn’t see the customer’s face, but she heard his deep voice. She paused to listen as he charmed the older woman into giggles. Allison smiled to herself. She was probably going to turn into one of those unmarried old maids who get giggly around an attractive man, too. Nothing wrong with that, even though everyone and their neighbor thought singlehood was a disease to be cured only with shaming and matchmaking.
Allison picked up another bottle and read the label, trying to focus on the task at hand. A few minutes later, she’d picked out a few white wines and some red. The one in her hand was a sweet holiday variety.
“That one looks delicious,” offered a deep voice behind her.
Allison startled, gripping the bottle so tightly she was surprised the glass didn’t shatter in her hand. She turned and saw that the voice was attached to a man with dark hair, dark eyes, and a smile that made her belly quiver with awareness. “Oh, hi,” she said for lack of anything better to say.
“Hi.” His gaze hung on hers for a long moment, then moved to her heavy basket.
“I, uh…This isn’t all for me. I’m having a party.”
He nodded.
“Not that I’m a partier. I’m not. It’s more of a function.” And she really didn’t need to explain herself to a stranger. She shifted the basket, which was digging into her forearm. Maybe eight bottles of wine was enough. She didn’t want to take more than she could carry.
“Need help with that?” he asked.
“No.” She shook her head and giggled. Giggled? Just like the older woman, she was moved to giggles over a handsome man. “I’m fine,” she told him, placing the last bottle in her basket and attempting to pass him.
The dark-haired, sexy man and his broad shoulders took up most of the aisle, though, and he didn’t move aside for her. Instead, he stared at her with mahogany eyes that seemed to twinkle in the dim lighting. He was wearing a military police uniform, she noticed now. Damn. She’d always had a thing for a man in uniform, and this one was especially delicious.
“Excuse me,” she said, tearing her eyes off him and focusing forward. She had her wine and it was time to get out of here before she made a bigger fool of herself.
The man hesitated before stepping aside. “Don’t party too hard. You don’t strike me as the type who would, but if there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that people are never what they seem.”
Allison turned back, unable to resist asking, “And how do I seem?”
He was still doing that twinkly-eye thing at her. How does he do that?
“Well, I don’t know you, but my gut says you’re a nice woman. And my gut is usually spot-on.”
She cringed inwardly. “Nice” was boring. A milquetoast, she thought, remembering an ex’s description of her. “You’re on duty buying alcohol,” she noted, trying to find Sexy Policeman’s fa
tal flaw, the one that, if she’d found herself in a relationship with him, would end it all. Surely a man who bought alcohol on the job was no good.
“It’s a gift. Nothing says love like expensive red wine.” He held up a bottle.
Love? A little ache settled in her chest. “Girlfriend?” she asked, unable to believe she’d actually uttered those words. He was likely to think she was interested in him with that question.
He shook his head. “It’s for my mother. Just a gift, not a Christmas present,” he clarified.
“I see. Well, good luck with that.” She continued toward the register, where the cashier was smiling at them.
Sexy Policeman stepped up beside her. Allison’s gaze flicked sideways.
“Nice choices,” the cashier said, glancing between them. “You made a nice selection in beaus, too,” she told Allison with a wink.
Allison’s mouth fell open. “No…We’re not…” Her cheeks burned. “I’m not with him,” she said, hearing the man laugh under his breath.
“Come on, baby. Don’t be like that,” he teased in a low voice that did something to her pulse. “You told me you loved me.”
The older woman’s lips rounded into a subtle O.
“I’m not your, uh…baby,” she told him, avoiding his gaze. “He’s joking,” she told the cashier, scooting away from the man.
“Too bad,” the woman said. “If I were forty years younger…”
“Or I forty years older,” he said, being the charming devil.
Allison didn’t like charming devils. Charming devils were also heartbreakers. So there it was—his flaw. “Please tell Mr. Mason that I appreciate his generosity.”
