by Stacey Lynn
My grin stretched larger as I finished bussing a table and headed back to the kitchen.
Declan was where I always saw him.
At the grill, flipping burgers and barking orders to the other cooks.
There was never a dull moment.
Declan would give me the credit for his increase in business, due to all the hard work I’d put into the advertising and marketing for the restaurant.
Some days, if someone came in and their eyes got slightly hazy when they met me or saw Declan, I still worried that some of the attraction was from what happened in the alley months ago. Most days, when I was able to forget, I believed Declan.
He never lied to me.
He still looked at me as if I was the most important and treasured thing in his life. He was still a bit bossy, he was still overprotective, but I knew his protectiveness came from a place deep within a soft and loving heart.
Needless to say, the last several months had not only been busy, but some of the best in my life.
Shortly after the media attention died down, I had tried one day to think about going forward with my plan to live on my own and move into Blue’s apartment. I knew, based on the look Declan gave me, that he’d let me. He probably would even have encouraged me to do it, because he always seemed to be willing to do whatever made me happy.
But then I’d gone to bed with him, fell asleep with his strong, muscular arms surrounding me, and knew that I was never going to leave. I loved him too much to want to spend a moment away from him. And I realized that I could still grow, I could still be me, and I could do it in Declan’s house, even if moving in with him after the drama we’d had and the way we’d met seemed crazy to some.
I quit caring what people thought and said about me the moment my photos were splashed across newspapers and magazines nationwide.
No one knew the full story except for those who experienced it.
And their opinions were the only ones that mattered to me.
Fortunately, in the last several months, I had also found a great network of friends who I now considered family. The girls I’d met on that girls’ night so many months ago were now more like sisters I’d never had and always wanted.
We still drank too much on Margarita Thursdays. We still laughed loudly enough to disrupt the entire restaurant, and Suzanne still ogled Declan every moment she could. Fortunately, I’d also spent a lot of time around her husband and Paige’s, and was fully assured that her jesting and teasing was all in good fun.
My life was perfect.
It was that thought that had me moving straight to Declan. I waited while he plated several meals, his movements so sure and quick that he seemed to do it all at the same time, and then I rolled to my toes, pressed my hand to his shoulder, and kissed his cheek.
“I love you,” I whispered, before moving away.
He didn’t let me get far.
His arm snagged me around my waist and he held me against him, looking down at me with dark eyes and a full smile. “I love you, too. How’s it going out there?”
I grinned. “Busy.”
“You still up for a night off?”
My grin grew. Declan was taking me out to dinner tonight, downtown. I didn’t know the restaurant we were headed to, but I had seen the dress he bought for me to wear laid out on our bed this morning after I woke up. It was black, lacy and satiny, fit me perfectly, and I couldn’t wait to wear it.
I had also seen a pretty, red-velvet ring box in the drawer last week when I was putting away his laundry.
I knew that tonight was going to be special. Declan would make sure of it.
I couldn’t freaking wait.
“Yeah.” I sighed and my gaze softened when his eyes went glassy. “I can’t wait to see you tonight.”
All that muscle dressed up in a suit. I hadn’t yet seen him wear one. My thighs tightened at the thought…but I was thinking more about taking it off him later.
My phone began vibrating against me in my back pocket and made me jump out of his hold.
“I love you, Trina. More than I ever thought possible.”
“Love you, too,” I whispered, reaching into my back pocket for my phone while he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine.
Had the phone not vibrated in my hand, I might have forgotten I was getting a phone call.
Declan’s kisses still did it to me. They made me forget there was a world outside of just us.
“Hello?” I said as soon as I answered the phone. I was already so turned-on by the brief kiss from Declan that I hadn’t looked at my caller ID.
“Trina? Oh my God, Trina. I need your help. I need Aidan’s phone number.”
My heart immediately dropped to my toes when I heard Chelsea’s panicked voice coming through the phone.
“Chelsea? What is it?”
“I can’t. Oh my God. Trina. Aidan. Can you call him? Or Declan? It’s Derrick.”
She sobbed into the phone.
“Chelsea. Take a deep breath.” I looked at Declan and his brow was furrowed, tension already tightening his shoulders. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s Derrick!” she cried, and I watched Declan’s head snap back. He’d heard her. “I’ve called the ambulance. But there’s been an accident. I need Aidan!”
“Oh my God,” I whispered and my eyes went wide at Declan’s expression. “Call Aidan, honey. He needs to get to—”
“Detroit General,” Chelsea supplied. “Oh shit, Trina. This is bad. It’s so bad.”
I already felt tears welling in my eyes. Not Derrick. “He’ll be okay, Chelsea. Tell me what happened.”
“Skateboarding accident. Right outside my house. I’m here with him. But Trina…I can’t. It’s so bad. I’m so scared.”
I tried to calm her with soothing tones as her words rambled on. I barely felt Declan’s hand on mine as he ushered me out of the kitchen and into his office. I saw his mouth moving as he spoke into the phone, but didn’t hear the words he said. I only hoped, as Chelsea described what she’d heard and what’d she seen, that Declan was talking to Aidan.
It sounded bad, and tears rolled down my cheeks.
He snapped the phone closed and looked directly at me.
“He’ll meet us there. As we were on the phone, he got a call from Shane’s mom, too.”
“Chelsea?” I said, trying to talk over her cries and her murmured words of comfort to Derrick’s friend, who was with her. “We’ve gotten a hold of Aidan. We’ll meet you at the hospital.”
As I spoke, I heard sirens through the phone.
“Okay. Okay, Trina. Thank you.”
“Take care of yourself, Chelsea.”
Another sob came through the phone. Voices echoed in the background.
“I have to go, Trina. They’re here.”
“We’ll be there soon.”
I didn’t know if she heard me. I just knew she’d hung up.
My eyes went to Declan’s and his hands came to my shoulders. “What happened?”
I shook my head, already feeling more tears in my eyes. “Skateboard accident on the hill outside Chelsea’s house. It sounds bad, Declan.”
“He’ll be okay.” He pulled me to his chest and hugged me. “He’ll be okay.”
I didn’t think the second statement was for me.
I figured he was more trying to reassure himself.
“We need to go,” I told him. His arms squeezed me tight before he let me go and I grabbed my purse.
I pulled the strap over my shoulder, entwined my fingers with Declan’s, and followed him out of the restaurant to his truck.
And then I prayed the entire way.
Because I knew…I knew that based on what Chelsea told me over the phone…it would take a miracle for Derrick to be okay.
Acknowledgments
I have been a part of the book-writing community for just over three years now, and I’m so thankful for the incredible friendships I’ve made with authors and bloggers and reader
s. Some of you, you know who you are, have become my dearest friends. I can’t begin to express how much I value all of you.
Thank you to my agent, Michelle Johnson, for always believing in me. I love that you’re in my corner, helping me with any crazy question or idea that I have. I can’t wait to see what else we can do together.
To Sue, thank you for totally getting this series. Your kind words and support help keep me going.
Thank you to Shannon, my PA, for keeping me organized and on track. You’re the bomb to my diggity.
To all my ladies in BACP and FTN, thank you for always being there for me. When I’m ready to bang my head against my computer, when I can’t get the scene to do exactly what I want, it’s always wonderful to know there’s someone who understands, someone who can help…and someone who will drink with me.
To all the readers and bloggers who leave a review, send me a message, or share my books with their friends, thank you will never be enough. You’ve allowed me to turn a hobby into a career, and I’m always so incredibly grateful for you.
And because I like to save the best for last, thank you to my family. Your unconditional love and support and random brainstorming sessions are everything to me.
BY STACEY LYNN
Fireside
His to Love
His to Protect
His to Cherish (coming soon)
PHOTO: © MAE I DESIGN AND PHOTOGRAPHY
STACEY LYNN lives in the Midwest with her husband and four young children. She can usually be found lost inside her own head, trying to bring her characters to life. When she’s engaged in the real world, she’s spending time with her family, drinking large amounts of coffee, and eating Skittles by the handful.
staceylynnbooks.com
Facebook.com/staceylynnbooks
@staceylynnbooks
The Editor’s Corner
Looking for the next romance that’ll give you the feels? Our fantastic selection of books will definitely satisfy.
You’ve never read bedtime stories like the sensual forbidden fairy tales in Sharon Lynn Fisher’s Loveswept debut, Before She Wakes. And speaking of debuts, don’t miss New York Times bestselling author Kelly Elliott’s Searching for Harmony—a gut-wrenching story of a love that transcends all odds. Vonnie Davis’s Her Survivor welcomes readers to Wounded Warrior Falls where beating the odds is what it’s all about, while Bound Beneath His Pain kicks off a deeply sensual new series from Club Sin author Stacey Kennedy.
Diana Quincy continues her Rebellious Brides series with a tale of forbidden love between a socialite and a scholar in A License to Wed. Wedding bells are ringing—and tempers are flaring—as Marquita Valentine’s Take the Fall series continues in the sweet and sexy Hard to Fall. The Brothers of Mayhem MC ride again in Carla Swafford’s explosive novel, Full Heat. Ashley Suzanne follows up Raven with the next round in her scorching Fight or Flight series, Cutter. The third book in Beth Yarnall’s Recovered Innocence series, Reclaim, is brimming with angst and sensuality. And don’t miss the next book in Stacey Lynn’s deeply emotional Fireside series, His to Protect. Or the story of a war hero fighting to remember the love he left behind in Serena Bell’s emotionally charged To Have and to Hold.
Then Shawntelle Madison’s seductive Surrender to You follows two career-oriented friends with benefits. And finally we have a cold case that leads to blazing-hot temptation in Kathy Clark’s romantic suspense Almost Forever.
Until next time ~Happy Romance!
Gina Wachtel
Associate Publisher
Read on for an excerpt from
Worth It All
by Claudia Connor
Available from Loveswept
Chapter 1
JT ignored the gym stink and the matches going on in the rings to his right and left and the grunts at the red punching bags. He shook the sweat from his hair, ignoring the heckling from Simon’s home crowd, and motioned with his gloved hands. “Come on, big man. Bring it.”
Two hundred fifty pounds and six and a half feet of tattooed Polynesian muscle circled him on the elevated mat. Simon moved in and JT landed a quick jab to the man’s shoulder, smiling when it made him take a step back. Simon was built like the tanks he used to drive, and he had a right hook that could make a man see stars if he didn’t pay attention.
“You’re going down,” Simon said, a big-ass grin splitting the scar that ran across his cheek. “You know that, right?”
JT smiled right back. He might be a couple of inches shorter, a little lighter, but he could hold his own. “Not happening. And cocky doesn’t look good on you.”
“Losing, however, looks really good on you,” Simon said, coming in for a strike.
“If you two don’t stop yapping like little girls, I got better things to do.” Simon’s eighty-something-year-old grandfather and owner of this paint-peeling and duct-taped-together gym stood just outside the ring. As small as Simon was massive, he had that old-man, raisin-in-the-sun look, and was still very much the boss.
They obeyed like boys, put in their mouth guards, and got serious. JT bobbed and dodged, his below-knee prosthesis moving like an extension of his body. The recent changes he and his team had made to their newest model of the next-generation powered ankle seemed like good ones. The sensors in the ankle sampled real-time motion while the artificial intelligence continuously analyzed the data and calculated the best response.
They circled each other, each getting in a few good licks. Thanks to an IED in Afghanistan, Simon wore a similar style below his right knee and an above-the-knee prosthesis on his left. With the A.I. and automatic stumble recovery in their latest microprocessor knee, Simon was actually at an advantage.
Ten minutes later when neither man had gone down, Pops called it in JT’s favor, much to the dismay of the handful of spectators who’d put their dollars on Simon.
Breathing hard and dripping sweat, JT held the ropes apart for Simon, then slipped carefully through himself. He patted the old man’s shoulder. “Good job, Pops.”
Pops grumbled, then turned to the group as he walked away. “All right. That’s it. Everybody back to your business or get out.”
Simon pulled at the Velcro at his wrists and worked his gloves off. JT did the same, and they both grabbed towels on their way to the locker room that smelled even more gritty than the gym. He wanted to record his notes while the information they’d just gained was still fresh.
After getting his hands unwrapped, JT grabbed his tablet from his bag and sat on the wooden bench. Neither spoke while they took a few minutes to get down their notes for design improvements. This was his sixth trial and already the adaptive capabilities of this smart device far exceeded last year’s model.
Simon finished first and put his tablet in his bag. “The hot brunette pretending to work the bag was watching you again. Black bike shorts, red top barely containing the important parts. That’s as far as I got.”
JT switched out the bionic foot at the end of his prosthetic for the one he wore in the shower. “You think she’s hot, go for it,” JT said. “Or don’t. If she works out at this gym, you’re probably related to her.”
“I happen to know I’m not. She’s one of Layla’s friends. But she wasn’t looking at me, pretty boy, she was looking at you. Doing nasty things to you with her eyes,” Simon added, rolling a polyurethane cover over his left leg.
JT stood and peeled the sweat-soaked shirt over his head. “Well, if she’s one of your sister’s friends, then it’s a definite no.”
“Right. Because you don’t do serious. You’d rather eat my mom’s leftovers and watch Jeopardy! with your dog.”
“Boulder prefers Wheel of Fortune, if you must know, and he’s damn good,” he added with a smile, then dropped his shorts and stepped into the shower.
Resting his hands against the tile, he let the hot water beat at his back and his smile fell away. Not even Simon knew he’d been serious once and what a disaster that had been. His best friend had lost his leg
s being a hero. He had not.
Ten minutes later, he was dressed in jeans and a plain black T-shirt. He sat on the bench again to get his shoes. He tied one, attached the other.
They finished packing up and passed through the gym, giving a wave to Pops. Everyone continued with what they were doing, including the hot brunette in the black bicycle shorts. JT pushed against the glass door and the thick air of Southern California smacked him in the face. The summer sun was just dipping below the horizon, and he guessed it was still a balmy ninety-five degrees.
“You want to come to Ma’s for dinner? You know you’re always invited.”
“Not this time, but tell her I said thanks. I’m going to grab a quick bite around the corner, then head back to work.”
“I’ll tell her, but it’s no good eating alone. Neither is human avoidance.”
“It’s called dedication, so you can also tell her I work harder than her son.”
Simon huffed, then raised his hand in a wave and moved on to his own car.
JT was just climbing into his SUV when Simon stopped and turned back. “You know, I think I’ll come with you. It’s early. I can always eat twice, right?”
JT felt the slightest hesitation. Maybe he did prefer eating alone, but he gave Simon the simple directions, and pulled out of the lot.
He made a left at the corner as the West Coast sun slid down into an orange ball of fire, backlighting the tall palms. A medium-sized city, Corrino was twenty miles southeast of Los Angeles. A good place for their company base and conveniently close to Simon’s family, even if it was about as far as he could get from his own and still live in the continental U.S.
Twenty minutes later he and Simon were seated at the counter with drinks and burgers. Simon was giving a detailed account of his future brother-in-law’s latest faux pas—overflowing the toilet at Simon’s parents’ house—but JT’s attention was on their waitress walking away.
