by Kait Nolan
This isn’t happening, Tyler thought dully.
And yet the orchestra was changing its tune. Brody angled his head, a quizzical expression on his face until he recognized the music. Then he smiled.
It took a few more bars before Tyler’s ears processed the melody. “All I Ask Of You.”
“Oh, God,” she whispered.
“I’ve known you most of my life,” Brody continued. “You were the cute little blonde girl with pigtails, who spent her time building forts out of tree limbs during recess instead of playing kiss-chase like the other girls. The amazingly fast track star, who took the high school by storm. But it wasn’t until I stood on this stage with you for Oklahoma! callbacks and heard you sing that I really looked at you. You took my breath away. I fell in love with you when I played Curly. And I did it all over again, every single time we sang, every time we danced.
“When I screwed things up, it was this theater that brought you back into my life. This show that gave me the chance to earn you back and show you that I never stopped loving you. And I screwed it up again. But I’m taking a leap here and hoping this will show you, in no uncertain terms, that I love you. Because you are my perfect match, in every way. So I’m asking you, Tyler Anne Edison, in front of our friends and cast members and this entire audience, to marry me and be the leading lady of my life.” He flipped open the box, and the diamond inside flashed in the stage lights.
Tyler pressed a hand to her mouth, blinking against the tears. He was offering her everything she wanted…and yet.
“What about Portland?” she said, helplessly.
“It’s temporary. I’m coming back home to Wishful. To you. If you’ll have me.”
I’m coming home.
No three words had ever sounded so wonderful. Tyler loosed a shuddering breath. “Thank God.”
Brody’s lips twitched. “You have to say it,” he said. “I want witnesses.”
She laughed and pitched her voice so all could hear. “Yes, Brody Theodore Jensen, I will marry you.”
“Then let’s make it official.” He pulled the ring out of the box and slid it on her finger. “I love you, Tyler.”
Tyler framed his face in her hands. “I love you, Brody.” Then she fisted a hand in his Santa jacket and jerked him to his feet, fusing her mouth to his while the crowd went wild.
~*~
Breathless, Brody staggered off the dance floor and accepted a fresh glass of champagne. The cast party turned engagement party at Speakeasy was in full swing, and he was pretty sure it was just as packed as karaoke night had been.
“Thank God tomorrow’s performance isn’t until seven.”
“Amen,” agreed Tucker, lifting his pilsner in a toast. “To friends, love, and gullibility.”
Tyler lifted a brow. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”
“That I can finally take this off,” said Tucker. He bent over and unfastened the velcro holding on his walking cast. “Thank God. This thing is so hot and itchy. I can’t imagine what it’s like for people who really did break their leg.” He stepped out of the boot and toed off his remaining shoe, doing a happy little bounce and tap routine in his sock feet.
“What the hell, man?” asked Brody.
Tyler’s jaw had dropped. “Your leg wasn’t broken?”
“Just a small, internal, muscular hemorrhage, sir,” Tucker said, saluting. “I faked the whole thing so Brody would get promoted from understudy to Phil.”
“You did what?” asked Brody, laughing.
“You sneaky bastard,” said Tyler. “I brought you poppyseed chicken!”
“And it was damned good poppyseed chicken,” said Tucker, patting his stomach.
Brody shifted his attention to Piper. “But you said it was broken. You took him to the ER yourself.”
“I was in collusion,” she said simply. “We figured if anything would get you two to work out your differences, it would be playing opposite each other again.”
“So you pulled a Phil and Judy on Phil and Judy,” he concluded.
“Pretty much,” said Tucker with a smug grin. He tapped his glass to Piper’s.
“And our work here is done,” she said.
“Imagine if they used their combined powers for evil,” said Brody.
“Terrifying,” laughed Tyler. She raised her own glass. “To friends who knew better than we did, and most of all, to the Madrigal.”
“To the Madrigal!”
Can I Ask You A Favor?
These days, it's harder than ever to get a new book noticed. Many of the promotional opportunities out there require a minimum number of reviews—10 at the low end, 50+ at the high. If you enjoyed this book, taking just a minute of your time to click the star rating and write a few words would help me tremendously, and allow me to continue to bring you the stories you enjoy. Just click the link below. (And, of course, if you really loved the story and want to tell Everyone you have Ever Met, please do!)
Thanks so much,
Kait
Click here to leave your review at Amazon.
A Note From The Author:
This book was my first foray into contemporary romance. I have a deep and abiding love for the movie White Christmas, and I have always wanted to see a remake (I would totally cast Harry Connick, Jr. as Bob, Michael Bublé as Phil, Rene Zellweger as Judy, and Nicole Kidman as Betty). This particular story took root last Christmas while I was watching the anniversary edition Bluray. As Tyler and Brody fell in love on stage, I fell completely in love with the town of Wishful. I’m a Steel Magnolia, and I’ve always wanted to write a series that showcases all the wonderful things about living in small town Mississippi.
That desire led me to write To Get Me To You, the novel that starts everything in Wishful. It actually predates the events of this story in the timeline, returning to the beginning with the story of Campbell Crawford and Norah Burke. I hope you’ll join me for their adventure and pre-order your copy today! Available December 8th, 2014.
Thanks for reading! And if you loved the book, please consider leaving a review or telling a friend.
To stay up to date on new releases and other news, please sign up for my newsletter: http://eepurl.com/gQvcX
If you want to keep up with all the action in Wishful and hang out with like-minded readers, come join our Facebook group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/wishfulseries/
You can also like my page on Facebook here: https://www.facebook.com/kaitnolanwriter
Other Books By Kait Nolan
Contemporary Romance
Wishful Series
To Get Me To You Turn the page for a sneak peek of the novel that starts it all!
Meet Cute Romance
Once Upon A Snow Day Turn the page for a sneak peek!
Once Upon A New Year’s Eve
Once Upon An Heirloom
Once Upon A Coffee
Paranormal Romance
Mirus Series:
Genesis (an omnibus including, Forsaken By Shadow (Mirus 1.1), Devil’s Eye (Mirus 1.2), and Blindsight )
Riven
Whisper of Shadow (Also available in the Magical Mayhem anthology)
YA Paranormal Romance:
Red
Whisper of Shadow
Wishful, Mississippi. From the post Civil War fountain on the town green, to the gossip served along with grits and coffee at Dinner Belles Diner, it will always be Campbell Crawford’s hometown–preferably just as it is. The way he sees it, the corporate big-box store that wants to unpack on the outskirts threatens everything he holds dear, but the town’s economy demands some kind of change. He’s not sure city girl Norah Burke can possibly understand Wishful enough help him turn things around–no matter how much his dog loves her. Norah falls for the charms of the town as hard as she falls for the charms of the man, and she’s determined to help. But even if they can get the votes to send the suits packing and get the town on its feet again, can she really give up her corner office and power lunches for the corner
booth at the local diner? What’s a nice executive like her going to do in a place like this?
Excerpt To Get Me To You
“Let’s step outside for some air,” he said. There were things he wanted—needed—to give voice to, and the middle of a crowded dance floor wasn’t the place.
She nodded once and let him guide her by way of a hand at the small of her back toward the back door. By grace of the frigid temperatures, the porch designated for outdoor dining and smoking was empty. Norah went straight to the railing and leaned against it, lifting her face to the sky. Cam resisted the urge to move in behind her, boxing her in, and instead leaned beside her, his arm brushing hers.
“I miss simple.” She sighed and tipped her head against his arm. “I miss you.”
He hadn’t expected the admission and credited lowered inhibitions due to the Three Furies. “You don’t have to. I’m not going anywhere. And neither have you, not yet.”
“But I will. Not tomorrow. Probably not next week. I don’t know when I’m leaving. But I have to start taking control of my life again. If that conversation with my father did anything, it lit a fire under me to finally start facing the long job search. I can’t keep putting it off.”
He was losing her, back to the life she’d come here to escape. Because he was perilously close to begging, Cam kept his mouth shut, fisting both hands around the railing until the wrought iron began to creak.
She mistook the reason for his silence. “I promise you, I won’t go until Wishful is safe. And I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”
He believed her. And cursed himself for wishing more danger on his town, just so she’d stay.
If he said nothing now, if he let her walk away, he’d regret it for the rest of his life.
Cam turned her to face him. “Isn’t it worth grabbing whatever happiness we can, while we can?” He could feel the pull between them, always the pull.
Her yearning to give into it was written clearly on her face. But mixed with it was equal parts sadness and resignation. “It isn’t about happiness.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because there are bigger things at stake.”
“I get that you’ve got this mission, this purpose. I support that. Hell, I asked you to take it on. But that doesn’t mean you can’t take something for yourself. Even Wonder Woman had Steve Trevor.”
“You’re no Steve Trevor.”
Before Cam could process the insult of that, she was reaching up, cupping his jaw. “Steve Trevor didn’t recognize what was right in front of him. You actually see me.”
What Cam saw was a brilliant, beautiful woman with an inexplicably fast hold on his heart and a mule-headed resistance to taking it. He might’ve said any number of things to try to persuade her, or he might’ve just given in and kissed her, as he’d wanted to do pretty much since the moment he’d stopped. But Fate, cruel bitch that she was, had other plans in the form of his meddling cousin, who came barreling out the door like an overgrown golden retriever.
Mitch drew up short, his mouth dropping open as he took in their embrace in a glance. “I…uh…just came to say the food’s ready. And Miranda’s here.”
“Great. I’m starved,” said Norah. She tapped Cam’s cheek gently. “Thanks for the dance, Leonidas.” She stepped away from him with the grace that completely eluded her on the dance floor and made her way to the door with the careful deliberation of the inebriated.
Available Dec. 8, 2014. Pre-order yours today!
Have you checked out the shorter side of my contemporary romance? I got into my Meet Cute Romances for a few different reasons. For one, I positively LOVE the meet cute in movies. Whatever quirky or funny set up that introduces the hero and shero really entertains me and is one of my favorite parts of writing romance. The beginning, that moment of promise that gives you a thrill of knowing this is IT, this is the ONE. That's what Meet Cute Romance is meant to be--a series of novelettes that celebrate the spark, the promise, and give you a chance to either relive your own moment of spark or give you hope that you WILL find one of your own.
Sneak Peek From Once Upon A Snow Day
“Don’t answer that,” warned Brandon as muffled banjos rang out from Travis’ coat pocket.
Travis ignored him and checked the caller ID. “It’s work. I have to answer it.”
“Even more reason not to answer.”
“Abernathy.”
Brandon rolled his eyes and headed for the refreshment pavilion. If he was going to have to wait while Travis talked whoever through whatever, he was going to do it with coffee. Standing at the back of the line, he scanned the slopes. It was a beautiful day, perfect weather, fresh powder. And, being a weekday, the mountain wouldn’t be over-crowded.
Travis had stopped halfway from the parking lot. He was pacing a short loop, his free hand scooping irritably through his hair. The expression on his face didn’t bode well.
I should never have let him have the phone back, Brandon thought. Clearly there was no saving him from the job without completely disconnecting him from civilization and technology.
Travis wasn’t the only one, he noted. A dozen feet away, a woman at one of the picnic tables was also hunched over her phone, stylus tapping at the screen. Glossy, dark brown hair spilled out from the fur-lined hood pulled up over her head. As he watched, she looked up toward the slopes and the parking lot. He had a brief, tantalizing view of delicate features and long-lidded eyes before she looked down again and went back to whatever she was doing.
With those jeans and hiking boots, she clearly wasn’t dressed for skiing, so what was she doing here? Waiting for someone? Brandon wondered. Not enjoying the views, that was for sure. And that was a damned shame. At least he’d saved himself from that kind of technological suck. If he had his way, he’d eventually manage to do the same for Travis.
At the crunch of snow, he turned to see the man in question, an apologetic expression on his face. Today was clearly not going to be the day he got saved.
“No,” said Brandon, pointing at him. “No, you are not about to back out on me now. We’re already here.”
“I’m sorry, man,” said Travis. “But that was one of the senior partners. He wants to pull me in as co-council on a huge corporate case. I have to go in.”
“You are full of suck,” declared Brandon. “Abandoning me in my hour of need.”
“Hour of need my ass.”
“Okay, fine, your hour of need. The system’s gonna kill you.”
Travis began backing away, lifting his hands in a gesture of acknowledgment. “We’ll reschedule. I’ll plan a day off in a few weeks, and we’ll come back.”
How many times had he heard that since Travis had joined Rigel, Williams, and Stone?
“You don’t plan for perfect powder,” Brandon insisted. “You embrace it when it happens.”
“Sorry, Bran!”
On a whim, Brandon bent and scooped up a palmful of snow.
“Hey now,” said Travis. “There’s no call for that.”
He felt a slow smile spread over his face as he packed his ammo. “There’s every call for this. I won this snow day and now you’re bailing. You gotta pay the penalty.”
He let the snowball fly with all the momentum of an outfielder aiming to cut off a base runner, feeling the sing of muscle as it left his hand. Travis darted to the side, just out of the line of fire, and Brandon watched with horror as the snowball hurtled by him and slammed against the head of the brunette at the picnic table.
She squeaked in surprise and dropped the phone.
“Oh, shit,” he muttered.
Slowly, oh so slowly, her shoulders dropped from the defensive hunch and she turned her head—hoodless now—to look at Travis. His eyes were round as saucers and he was already pointing back toward Brandon. She shifted her attention, and Brandon found himself snared by a pair of gorgeous brown eyes, slitted with temper.
Wow. For a moment, that was all he could think. Now there’s a fac
e a man could get lost in. Then his brain re-engaged and he was striding across to her, spewing apology. “I am so sorry. I wasn’t aiming at you. I was aiming for him, and the coward moved, and I—”
“Stop right there,” she said, lifting a hand like a traffic cop.
Brandon did.
The woman brushed the snow from the long fall of her hair. She flicked a glance at Travis, who’d retrieved her phone and now held it out like a peace offering. Ignoring him, she bent. At first, Brandon thought she was picking up the stylus, but instead she began to gather together snow. His lips twitched, but he held his ground. He’d totally earned whatever payback she was about to dish out.
She dug deep, clearing away the light, fresh powder for the wetter snow beneath. When she had a mass approximately the size of a small cantaloupe, she took two steps forward and hurled it. From a mere six feet away, the ball splattered against the fleece beneath Brandon’s open parka. Cold, wet shrapnel struck him in the face but did nothing to erase the smile. He had to appreciate a woman with a finely-tuned sense of revenge.
Retaliation delivered, his inadvertent victim briskly knocked snow off her mittens and turned back to Travis to collect her phone. “Thank you,” she said politely.
Travis, face as sober as a judge, sketched a slight bow. “I do apologize. Under normal circumstances, I’d never choose self-preservation over a lady, but I just didn’t see you.”
“Accidents happen,” she said equably. “You weren’t the one pretending you were ten.” She slanted a glance back at Brandon.
