by Robyn Grady
Her smile faded. “We’re not kids playing games anymore.”
“No. We’re not.”
He leaned forward just as a snowball smashed against his shoulder. Tate stood a short distance away; given his expression, he didn’t know whether to run or laugh or fastball another one. Beside him, April’s pom-poms were dancing around her neck, she was giggling that hard. She pitched her baby snowball and bolted in the other direction. Tate followed.
Grinning, Wynn swiped snow off his jacket. “Naughty and nice.”
“Is Tate missing his folks?”
“He knows they’re arguing. He’s not sure why. He thinks it’s his fault. Well, his and mine. That’s why he wanted to come over from Sydney. So we pariahs could hang together.”
Her heart clutched and twisted. “That’s so sad.”
“We’ll work through it, me and Tate—and the rest of the family. Sometime in the New Year, I’m going back to...well, face it all.”
Grace cast a glance toward the house. Her father was peering out the window again. She thought of all the food and warmth and company inside that house. She could hear Tate and April playing some game together and, after listening to what poor Tate was going through, it seemed wrong not to ask.
“Wynn, would you and Tate like to have breakfast with us?”
His somber expression faded into a soft smile. “We’d like that very much. There’s something else I’d like even more.” His eyes searched hers. “You.”
She shivered with longing, with need, but she wanted more than “just for now,” and she refused to feel guilty because of it.
“Wynn, we don’t need to go through this again.”
“We really do.”
The knot high in her stomach wrenched tighter. He was making this so hard. “I want a family of my own, Wynn. Don’t you get it?”
“Me, too. So, we need to get married. The sooner the better.”
She’d come to terms with him showing up unannounced, organizing the snowman, the gifts. But this? A proposal? She wanted to be hopeful, excited. But a man didn’t change his mind about something like that overnight.
“I didn’t believe it,” he went on, “that it could happen that fast. Falling in love, I mean.”
Her back went up. “I can’t help how I feel.”
“Not you. Me.” His gloved hand slid around the back of her waist. “I love you,” he said, and then broke out into a big smile. “Damn, that felt good.”
Time seemed to stop. She set her palm against his chest to steady herself as her head began to spin.
“This isn’t happening,” she said.
“Close your eyes and I’ll prove that it is.”
When his mouth slanted over hers, her eyes automatically drifted shut and, in an instant, she was filled up with his warmth—with his strength. And then the kiss deepened and a million tiny stars showered down through her system—her head and her belly. Most of all, her heart. When he drew her closer, she stood on the toes of her boots and curled her arms around the padded collar at his neck. He tilted his head at a greater angle and urged her closer with a palm on her back until they were pressed together like two pages in a book.
When his lips finally left hers, she couldn’t shake herself from the daze. His face was close and had a contented expression. In his eyes she saw every shade of “I’m certain.” And the way he was holding her... No matter what she said, he wasn’t about to let her go.
“I love you, Grace. The kind of love that can’t take no for an answer. The kind that just has to win out.”
While deepest emotion prickled behind her eyes, snow began to fall, dusting their hair and their shoulders. A snowflake landed on the tip of his nose at the same time a hot tear rolled down her cheek.
“Marry me,” he said in a low, steady voice. “Be my wife. My love forever.”
She swallowed deeply. Tried to speak.
“This isn’t a rebound, is it?” she asked.
He only grinned. “Not a chance. I want you to have my name. Grace Hunter. Mrs. Wynn Hunter. I want to have babies with you and work through all those ups and downs families face. The challenges and triumphs that will make us even stronger.”
Two little voices drifted over.
“He’s gonna kiss her again.”
“Gracie’s gonna be a princess bride.”
When she and Wynn both looked over, the kids darted away. Wynn’s voice rumbled near her ear. “Smart kids.”
He kissed her again, working it until she was mindless, boneless—completely, unreservedly his. When his mouth gradually left her, she had to grip his windbreaker while her brain tried again to catch up.
“Can you see the future?” he asked. “Me in a tuxedo, Dex and Cole standing at my side. Your father is walking you down the aisle and our guests are sighing, you look so beautiful. So happy.”
A breath caught in her throat. And then she realized. He was right. She could see it, too. Their families were there—all of them.
“Tate will be a ring bearer,” she murmured, as another drop slid down her cheek, “and April the flower girl.”
“And?”
“And...” She cupped his jaw then ran fingers over that faint scar on his temple. He was waiting for her answer. It seemed the only choice.
“I love you,” she said. “I can’t wait to marry you.”
The snow was falling harder, catching on his lashes, in the stubble on his jaw, and as he kissed her again, everything in their world—everything in her heart—felt incredible. Amazing. Just the way it ought to.
“Would you believe,” he said as his lips slipped from hers, “I don’t have a ring.”
A little hand tugged Grace’s coat. One of April’s mittens was off and she was offering up her crystal solitaire.
Grace laughed she was so touched, and Wynn cocked his head. “Wow. April, are you sure? That looks like a lot of carats.”
Tate held April’s hand. “I’ll get her another one.”
A call came from the house—it was Grace’s father telling everyone to come in. When Tate looked up at his brother, Wynn said, “Go ahead, buddy.”
As they watched the young couple trot toward the path, Grace linked her arms around her fiancé’s neck.
“Guess we ought to go in, too,” she said. “Snow’s coming down pretty fast.”
“Let it snow,” he said. “I love the snow. I love you.” Cupping her cheek, he smiled adoringly into her eyes. “Today all my Christmases have come at once.”
Epilogue
Meanwhile in Seattle...
Crouched on her bathroom floor, Teagan Hunter hugged herself tight, and then groaning, doubled over more. Her stomach was filled with barbed wire knots, but the pain went way beyond physical. It was memories. It was regrets. They circled her thoughts like a pack of vultures waiting to drop.
The High Tea Gym had barely seen her all week, and that had to change. She had a business to run, bills to pay, staff to supervise and clients to inspire. But then those vultures swooped again and Teagan only had the strength to lower her brow to her knee.
Her determined side said this was a case of mind over matter. She’d be fine. She would endure. No. She would flourish. God knew, up until now, she’d coped with a lot in her life. Still, she couldn’t shake another voice gnawing at her ear, telling her that what she had lost this time was immeasurable—impossible to have, or try to protect, ever again.
As she dragged herself into the kitchen, her cell phone sounded on the counter. It could be Cole with some news about their father’s ongoing stalker situation, she thought. But, checking the ID, tears sprang to her eyes. Her finger itched to swipe the screen, accept the call. But what if she lost it and broke down?
And yet this minute she only wanted to curl up and cry.
When her phone sounded again, Teagan set her hands over her ears and headed for her rowing machine. She didn’t have any answers for Damon. He would simply have to accept it. She didn’t want to—couldn’t bear to—see him ever again.
Three days ago, she’d sat behind her desk and had calmly passed on her decision. His eyes had gone wide. Then an amused smile had flickered at one side of the mouth she had come to adore. But when she’d stood her ground—had asked him to leave—his jaw had tensed and his brows had drawn together.
“Tell me what’s going on, Tea,” he’d said. “I won’t leave until you do.”
Now, as she positioned herself on the machine, strapped in her feet, grabbed the ropes and eased into the flow— sliding forward, easing back, pushing with her legs, holding in her belly...already firm and flat and empty—
She dropped the handles. The ropes flew back and, shaking, she covered her face. She’d already cried so much, surely she was done, and yet the salty streams coursing down her cheeks wouldn’t stop.
It must pass sometime—the constant praying and begging that she could have that chance again. Because she didn’t know how much longer she could bear it...the images from that night when her greatest dream came true had turned into a nightmare. It all seemed so pointless, so gut-wrenchingly cruel. She’d been told she would never conceive. She’d learned to live with that fact. She’d pushed on and had come to accept it.
But how could she ever accept that she’d miscarried a child—Damon’s baby—because now...
Nothing in the world seemed to matter.
* * * * *
If you liked Wynn’s story, don’t miss a single novel in THE HUNTER PACT series from Robyn Grady:
LOSING CONTROL
TEMPTATION ON HIS TERMS
All available now, from Harlequin Desire!
Keep reading for an excerpt from THE REAL THING by Brenda Jackson.
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One
“I understand you’re in a jam and might need my help.”
In a jam was putting it mildly, Trinity Matthews thought, looking across the table at Adrian Westmoreland.
If only what he’d said wasn’t true. And...if only Adrian wasn’t so good-looking. Then thinking about what she needed him to do wouldn’t be so hard.
When she and Adrian had first met, last year at his cousin Riley’s wedding, he had been standing in a group of Westmoreland men. She had sized up his brothers and cousins, but had definitely noticed Adrian standing beside his identical twin brother, Aidan.
Trinity had found out years ago, when her sister Tara had married Thorn Westmoreland, that all Westmoreland men were eye candy of the most delectable kind. Therefore, she hadn’t really been surprised to discover that Thorn’s cousins from Denver had a lot of the same traits—handsome facial features, tall height, a hard-muscled body and an aura of primal masculinity.
But she’d never thought she’d be in a position to date one of those men—even if it was only a temporary ruse.
Trinity knew Tara had already given Adrian some details about the situation and now it was up to her to fill him in on the rest.
“Yes, I’m in a jam,” Trinity said, releasing a frustrated breath. “I want to tell you about it, but first I want to thank you for agreeing to meet with me tonight.”
He had suggested Laredo’s Steak House. She had eaten here a few times, and the food was always excellent.
“No problem.”
She paused, trying to ignore how the deep, husky sound of his voice stirred her already nervous stomach. “My goal,” she began, “is to complete my residency at Denver Memorial and return to Bunnell, Florida, and work beside my father and brothers in their medical practice. That goal is being threatened by another physician, Dr. Casey Belvedere. He’s a respected surgeon here in Denver. He—”
“Wants you.”
Trinity’s heart skipped a beat. Another Westmoreland trait she’d discovered: they didn’t believe in mincing words.
“Yes. He wants an affair. I’ve done nothing to encourage his advances or to give him the impression I’m interested. I even lied and told him I was already involved with someone, but he won’t let up. Now it’s more than annoying. He’s hinted that if I don’t go along with it, he’ll make my life at the hospital difficult.”
She pushed her plate aside and took a sip of her wine. “I brought his unwanted advances to the attention of the top hospital administrator, and he’s more or less dismissed my claim. Dr. Belvedere’s family is well known in the city. Big philanthropists, I understand. Presently, the Belvederes are building a children’s wing at the hospital that will bear their name. It’s my guess that the hospital administrator feels that now is not the time to make waves with any of the Belvederes. He said I need to pick my battles carefully, and this is one I might not want to take on.”
She paused. “So I came up with a plan.” She chuckled softly. “Let me rephrase that. Tara came up with the plan after I told her what was going on. It seems that she faced a similar situation when she was doing her residency in Kentucky. The only difference was that the hospital administrator supported her and made sure the doctor was released of his duties. I don’t have that kind of support here because of the Belvedere name.”
Adrian didn’t say anything for a few moments. He broke eye contact with her and stared down into his glass of wine. Trinity couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking.
He looked back at her. “There is another solution to your problem, you know.”
She lifted a brow. “There is?”
“You did say he’s a surgeon, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then I could break his hands so he’ll never be able to use them in an operating room again.”
She stared wide-eyed at him for a couple of seconds before leaning forward. “You’re joking, right?”
“No. I am not joking. I’m dead serious.”
She leaned back as she studied his features. They were etched with ruthlessness and his dark eyes were filled with callousness. It was only then that Trinity remembered Tara’s tales about the twins, their baby sister, Bailey, and their younger cousin Bane. According to Tara, those four were the holy terrors of Denver while growing up and got into all kinds of trouble—malicious and otherwise.
But that was years ago. Now Bane was a navy SEAL, the twins were both Harvard graduates—Adrian obtained his PhD in engineering and Aidan completed medical school—and Bailey, the youngest of the four, was presently working on her MBA. However, it was quite obvious to Trinity that behind
Adrian Westmoreland’s chiseled good looks, irresistible charm and PhD was a man who could return to his old ways if the need arose.
“I don’t think we need to go that far,” she said, swallowing. “Like Tara suggested, we can pretend to be lovers and hope that works.”
“If that’s how you prefer handling it.”
“Yes. And you don’t have a problem going along with it? Foregoing dating other women for a while?”
He pushed his plate aside and leaned back in his chair. “Nope. I don’t have a problem going along with it. Putting my social life on hold until this matter is resolved will be no big deal.”
Trinity released a relieved sigh. She had heard that since he’d returned to Denver to work as one of the CEOs at his family-owned business, Blue Ridge Land Management, Adrian had acquired a very active social life. There weren’t many single Westmoreland men left in town. In fact, he was the only one. His cousin Stern was engaged to be married in a few months; Bane was away in the navy and Aidan was practicing medicine at a hospital in North Carolina. All the other Westmoreland men had married. Adrian would definitely be a catch for any woman. And they were coming after him from every direction, determined to hook a Westmoreland man; she’d heard he was having the time of his life letting them try.
Trinity was grateful she wasn’t interested. The only reason she and Adrian were meeting was that she needed his help to pull off her plan. In fact, this was the first time they had seen each other since she’d moved to Denver eight months ago. She’d known when she accepted the internship at Denver Memorial last year that a slew of her sister’s Westmoreland cousins-in-law lived here. She had met most of them at Riley’s wedding. But most lived in a part of Denver referred to as Westmoreland Country and she lived in town. Though she had heard that when Adrian returned to Denver he had taken a place in town instead of moving to his family’s homestead, more for privacy than anything else.
“I think we should put our plan into action now,” he said, breaking into her thoughts.
