Love Me Always: A Romance Anthology

by Peyton Banks

  “Don’t you have a staff to do this?”

  Yeah. Probably. “It’s kind of late, if you haven’t noticed. They don’t all live on site.”

  “Right.” She pulled her lower lip between her teeth then said, “And couldn’t the maintenance crew handle this cleanup in the morning? Preferably before Vanessa can know about it?”

  Most likely. I couldn’t lie to her. “Jaz, I’m sorry. I’m… You kind of floored me, showing up here. I’d like to catch up, but there’s no time now.”

  Her face gave in to a smile and I took the liberty to tap my knuckle under her chin so she’d face me fully.

  “Blast from the past, huh?” she asked.

  “Damn right, you are. And here of all places…” I chuckled. “It’s a helluva small world, sometimes. You don’t have to help me. But I sure would enjoy your company.”

  Her shy smile was the cutest tease. “I think I can do that.”

  3

  Jasmine

  Tony.

  Here.

  In the flesh. Like some kind of savior from pesky goats. I snorted to myself as I transported another chunk of the broken arbor. Pesky? More like pain-in-the-ass. Twice those little bastards nipped at me when I’d tried to herd them back to the stables. That was before the maintenance guys showed up with dogs. Maybe a crazy woman screaming at them from underneath a flashy green jacket covering was a little out of their routine. That wasn’t any reason for them to bite at me, though, dammit. I thought one peed on my shoe, too.

  Tony had helped his crew round up the goats, but I wasn’t sure I could count on him as a rescuer of Vanessa’s dream wedding scene. How he planned to build this arbor together was beyond me. It wasn’t so much of a can’t fit a square peg in a round hole kind of challenge as it was a what has been hammered to bits cannot be brought back to life issue.

  Apparently, he’d been hiding out here in upstate New York all this time, making a sort of elite hippie wedding farm site? Maybe he was a magical carpenter now. We’d met in college, both of us taking the same electives—him in a criminal justice program and me in law.

  Kind of a big leap to this place then.

  So many questions filled my mind, and a unique giddiness at catching up with him sped me faster. He’d been helping the men pull out spare chairs in the barn while I had been toting parts of the arbor in the back of a golf cart.

  With all the pieces together in an organized heap, if that was possible, I brushed off my jeans. I’d taken a quick break to change out of my wet clothes and faced a scary moment in the hallways of the hotel building of the property. Several other wedding guests had been coming down the hall, complaining about all the toasts at the dinner—uh-huh—and I hid before I could be spotted.

  If Vanessa had to learn about the adjustment to her wedding in the morning, and from someone other than me, perfect.

  And adjustment was a reach. We were completely relocating it.

  I’d only spotted Teresa and the maintenance worker she’d offered to help once. During one of the many back-and-forth trips of bringing the arbor pieces to the barn, I’d caught sight of her making out with him on the back patio of the hall. Go figure.

  Now, though, with all the chairs set up in aisles, and the arbor chunks lying in the space of what would be the altar, I waited for Tony to suggest something else I could help with.

  He spoke with one of the staff, and instead of interrupting them, I spun to face the enormous doors that opened up beyond the altar. Someone had left them open, and the sweet after-the-rain breeze was just the right amount of chill to make this evening bearable. Even though it was night, later than anything I’d planned for tonight, I could make out the scenic backdrop. In the morning, it would be a pretty picture with the doors open, showing the lake in the distance and down below. Not the same thing as getting married in a garden, but still beautiful. And hey, if this truly had been a barn before the renovation, what was to say the stupid llamas couldn’t come in here, too?

  “Thanks, Jaz,” Tony said from behind me.

  I turned toward him as he boldly set his hand on the small of my back. Any other man, I would have slapped his touch away. With Tony, I leaned into his casual hold. Wanted more, too.

  A couple of staff members were draping chairs with white cloths, and another was popping up aisle posts. Many rows of seating separated us from them, and I relished the chance to have this man to myself for even a moment.

  “Is that all of it?” he asked, standing next to me now. He set both of his hands on his hips and surveyed what I hoped was a clear layout of arbor pieces. My stare got stuck on him as I appreciated his too damn tempting physique. With his shirt sleeves rolled up, I noticed his arms were still as thick and muscled as before, maybe even more so now. Still the same tall, broad-shouldered, oh-so-sexy man I’d fallen in love with when I was young and stupid. A few more lines bracketed his eyes, but his firm features remained the same, a face that so easily broke into goofy grins and serious frowns. Instead of the shortest buzz cut of hair, he was shaved now, and it only added to his rugged masculinity.

  “Jaz?”

  I blinked, tearing my stare from the skin that teased from beneath the top buttons he’d left open. “Uh, yeah. Yes. That’s all the pieces.”

  His smile was slow and lazy. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”

  “Well, it was my fault.” No, it wasn’t, really. My uncoordinated ass hadn’t bumped into the goats’ pen door. I’d never been the kind to skirt my responsibilities, and Teresa’s tipsy clumsiness aside, I did feel bad about Vanessa’s ruined wedding site. “I mean, it was indirectly my fault. I won’t run from my mistakes. I’ll pay, too, for any damages—”

  “I meant I can’t believe we’ve run into each other like this. You have any idea how many times I thought about you since freshman year?” He stroked his knuckle along my jaw, tilting my face to meet his eyes directly.

  Excitement tickled me from the inside out. He’d thought about me? Being on his mind, still, after all this time, was a thrill I refused to temper. Once more, he released his touch on me, and I mentally whimpered at the loss.

  “Same,” I admitted quietly.

  He narrowed his eyes with a smile, but I cleared my throat and checked my watch.

  “But…first things first. You really think you can put this thing back together before Vanessa loses her shit?”

  He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound. “I’m going to try. You still game to help me?”

  I nodded, and so we began.

  It turned out he wasn’t a carpenter by trade, but he’d dabbled enough here and there to grow some kind of optimism. And he wasn’t the actual manager of this place, only standing in as a favor for a friend. For the next hour, I handed him pieces of broken wood and tools as he rebuilt this structure. All the while, we caught up, filling in so many parts of what had happened during the years apart.

  Turned out he had just gotten out of the Army after two tours. When he’d left college unexpectedly early, he’d done so to go home and help his parents. An only child, he’d needed to help his disabled mother take care of his father—a firefighter who’d suffered serious injuries on the job. Now, done with the Army, he didn’t want to return to his hometown in New Jersey, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to follow his dad’s steps and be a firefighter. The most he could say for his future was a move back to downtown New York and to resume his college education.

  Close to me. That was mainly what I’d picked up from his answers.

  I explained what I’d been up to, which, ironically, wasn’t an elaborate tale to spin. Graduated law school, promptly took a position, and recently made partner. Work and…work. That was all I had to claim.

  When we deviated more into asking questions about marriage and dating, I wasn’t shy to admit there hadn’t really been anyone for me since him. He admitted he’d avoided commitment while in the service, and there never was one woman he’d desired for anything lasting.

  All the while, I
dutifully held up parts of wood, gave him the drill or a box of screws from the supplies someone on the staff had left nearby. He’d lost his white button-down halfway through the rebuilding process, and I didn’t even care to hide my attraction. Let him feel the burn of my stares. Each turn and twist of his body. Every time those muscles flexed and corded.

  I was so turned-on it was a challenge to hand him the tools he’d asked for. My concentration was shot.

  As we’d worked on the arbor and caught up, we’d taken more liberties to touch each other, no fear of invading a stranger’s space. Accidental brushes against my side as he reached around me for another screw or the drill. My not-so-innocent missteps that brought me falling into his arms. By the heated intensity in his gaze on me and without censoring my own looks, it was all too clear we wanted each other.

  Forget the timing of it all. This was Tony. The one lover I’d always held on a pedestal. This one sexy god with charm and humor, while still being responsible and mature. I knew him already—there was no need to schedule getting familiar with him, or debating and analyzing if he was worth my attention.

  And he had it. He could have me, if time allowed. As in, the weekend was only so long, and the night was wearing on. I had only taken off time for a couple of days. He was semi- undecided what to do now that he was done in the service. Still, had we met again anywhere else…any other time…

  “Okay. Step back, and let’s check it out.” He hugged me to his side, and I swooned at the heat and solid security in his embrace.

  We stood together and studied the arbor. He was probably eyeballing to see if it was level and secure. I was trying to dismiss the muddy goat hoof prints on the wider slats of wood.

  “It looks…” I bobbed my head side to side.

  “Like it will fall over any minute?” he said.

  I cracked up, and his chest shook with laughter too. Instead of facing it, he turned and pulled me into a hug. I draped my arms around his shoulders and cozied into his hold.

  Forget the fact we’d been apart for a decade.

  We were single and here together now.

  Ours was a mutual attraction that would always spark true.

  I looked away from him, tamping down the building flames of lust this man ignited within me. Eyeing his craftmanship again, I hummed. “Well, if we wrap it up with vines and ribbons…stick a bunch of flowers on it…” I shrugged. “No one would know the difference.”

  “Sure, one big-ass, ugly Band-Aid.” Still, he chuckled. His arms tightened around me and I inhaled deeply. I couldn’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.

  “Jaz…” he whispered.

  Whether it was a warning of pushing his patience or a plea to ignore the distance that once separated us, I fell deeper under this spell.

  I reached up on my tiptoes and brought my lips to his. One kiss was all it took.

  He grunted a primal sound of satisfaction and hugged me tighter. I didn’t need his encouragement. This was no longer a matter of thinking but feeling. Sinking. Floating. All kinds of actions on cloud nine.

  I slanted my head to secure an even tighter seal of locked lips and traced my finger from the back of his smooth head, along his jaw, and down until I could rest my palm on his chest. His heart raced, a thunderous tempo just like my own.

  “I’ve missed you,” I admitted when we broke for a panted breath of air a moment later.

  His laugh was short and rough. Maybe it was just an attempt for more air, but I felt more than saw his smile, his cheek rising against mine.

  “Me too, baby, me too.”

  After this admission, we kissed again. Harder, longer, with more passion and urgency than I’d ever shared with this man before. Absence made the heart grow fonder? Oh, hell, yes, it did. In our desperation to cling to each other, he picked me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist, worked my core against the bulge in his pants, so eager for this promise of truly reuniting with him. It had to be…destiny. I refused to let go as he hoisted me higher in his arms, a reassurance that he had me.

  With one step to the side, my leg slid down, and I laughed, drunk on lust, dare I say love, and he hefted me back into place in his arms. I cradled his face as he danced another step back, forced to backpedal at the harsh kiss I demanded from his lips.

  He grunted once, another plea. But then he groaned. Not one of those raw, sexy sounds. A noise of frustration and alarm. I opened my eyes without breaking the kiss and glanced down just in time to see him stumble backward over the drill.

  On a gasp, I clung to his shoulders as he placed his foot in the other direction, onto the coiled mound of the electrical cord.

  Another gasp.

  “Shit.”

  I couldn’t help but giggle at his shout.

  Oh, shit, indeed.

  As he tried to straighten himself with me in his arms, he overstepped and tripped over the drill again, sending us careening into the arbor. He twisted at last second, shielding me from fully knocking into it. With the speed of our fall, I squealed, wrenching my eyes nearly shut as I feared toppling the arbor.

  He landed on his back, taking the brunt of the fall with me lying on top of his hard body. Our noses were inches from the arbor, and we froze, panting hard and staring at the flimsy structure we’d just repaired.

  It didn’t move.

  It stood still, not even teetering with us brushing against it in our fall.

  “Oh, thank God,” I whispered, staring at a perfectly imprinted hoof print on the base of it. At least it smelled like mud and not something nastier.

  Tony’s chest heaved as he whooshed out a deep breath, and I could feel his very relief that it still stood.

  Then, as though his puff of air was the work of the big, bad wolf blowing down a house, the damn thing fell. Like an ill-fated game of Jenga, it tipped, gaining speed, and crashed to the ground in a loud, splintering thud.

  Speechless, we stared at it, our cheeks pressed to each other’s.

  Seconds passed. Then a minute.

  “Maybe we can just say lightning hit the arbor? And toss it?” he suggested.

  I turned to face him, framing his face as he bit his lower lip.

  “Can we?”

  “I am the manager on duty right now.” He grinned. “And nothing’s going to keep me from you this time.”

  I lowered to kiss him again. Another chunk of wood cracked off the structure and crashed to the ground.

  I couldn’t help it. Laughter erupted, a full-on gale of cracking up. I laughed so hard I cried, smashing my cheek to his. He lost it too, guffawing so forcefully he began to hoot and wipe at his eyes.

  “Come on, let’s at least clean it up,” I said once we’d settled down.

  I got off of him, my desire not waning a bit as he leaned up on his elbows. The faster we got rid of the evidence of the arbor that was not meant to be, the faster I could enjoy this delicious man in that very pose on a bed.

  “And after?” he asked as he rose to his feet.

  I gripped his shirt, pulling him closer for a slow but reined-in kiss.

  I didn’t need to check my schedule or worry about looking at notifications on my phone. When facing a second chance at true love, a real connection like the one Tony and I had, there was no rule on agendas. It just was.

  I licked my lips then said, “After this, we should make up for all the missed time.”

  And that was exactly what we did.

  About the Author

  Amabel Daniels lives in Northwest Ohio with her patient husband, three adventurous girls, and a collection of too many cats and dogs. Although she holds a Master’s degree in Ecology, her true love is finding a good book. When she isn’t spending time outdoors, or wondering how to negotiate with her mightily independent daughters, she’s busy brewing up her next novel, usually as she lets her mind run off with the addictive words of “what if…”

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  Married by Mistake

  A.C. NIXON

  Blurb

  How to survive a weekend in Vegas without wrecking your life:

  1. If your seatmate in first class is rockstar hot—run.

  2. If you’re ordered to remain next to said hot guy: ignore the tattoos and mouth designed for dirty, wicked deeds.

  3. Do not accept an invitation from the seductive stranger when you encounter him at your hotel.

  4. If you neglect everything else, never, ever, under any circumstances wed a man you’ve known for fewer than twenty-four hours.

  1

  Cheryl

  Cheryl Richardson was not alone.

  The bed dipped then a long, hard, and lightly haired body pressed against her back.

  "Babe," said a raspy and vaguely familiar male voice.

  Now she knew how it felt standing on the solid yellow line, facing down a pair the headlights. It sucked.

  What she wanted to do was a damn bra and panty check. Instead, she laid silently as cruel beads of sweat rolled down her forehead, stopping to puddle on the bridge of her nose before moseying on.

  Pillow soft lips and a short tickly beard pressed against her spine, right between her shoulder blades. Then, something stiff and impressive pressed against her backside.

  Unless he had a salami tucked in his boxers, she was certain she’d not been accosted.

  But just in case Shrek's odious younger cousin was behind her, Cheryl remained so still she would have put a possum to shame.

  That was the mature way to handle waking up with a stranger.