Always Our Love

by Tawdra Kandle

  I scanned the crowd, picking out all the important people in my world who were here today to support us. My parents were front and center, beaming with pride, with my sisters scattered around them. Carla was hugely pregnant, and I watched Todd rub her back, trying to give her some comfort. A twinge of wistful envy struck me. Linc and I had talked about having children; I loved Becca and Oliver, and the more time I spent with them, the more I wanted to add to the family we were making. Linc was onboard with the idea, but neither of us was in a rush.

  We had time.

  Speaking of babies . . . Meghan and Sam Reynolds were on the other side of the lawn. If I thought my sister was large, Meghan was absolutely enormous. But she carried gracefully, and the accompanying glow outshone any discomfort she might be feeling. That, combined with the perpetual grin of triumph on her husband’s face, was a joy to behold. Next to them, Ali and Flynn Evans stood with Bridget and Colleen as well as Becca and Oliver. The Evans family had made it back to town just in time for the dedication, and Becca was overjoyed to have her friend back.

  Ryland and Abby Kent wanted to be here, but since their son Connor had been born just three weeks before, traveling had been out of the question. I’d met them several times over the past months, first when they came to visit us and check out the plantation, and then when Linc and I had taken a romantic weekend down to the Cove, to stay in the lovely Riverside Hotel. I was looking forward to seeing them again soon and meeting their sweet new baby.

  My cousin Rilla and Mason were toward the back, Mason towering over everyone else. He’d donated all the food and beverages for today’s festivities. Piper and Noah were restless, I could see, bored with the speeches. I couldn’t blame them.

  I spotted a few others who met my eye with smiles. Will and Sydney Garth had gotten married last month. Kiki had embraced her role as mother of the bride with finesse only she could manage. She and Troy stood near the Garths now. Maureen and Smith Harrington, whose veterinarian clinic had also sponsors the events today, were with Cory Evans.

  This was my town. These were my people. We’d had our ups and downs, and I didn’t wear rose-colored glasses when it came to the reality of living in Burton . . . but there was no place else I’d want to live, to love and to raise my family.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spied a huge butterfly fluttering above the branch of the dogwood tree we’d planted a few yards from the porch. Linc had come up with the idea of dedicating that tree to Lydia Bennett, the daughter who had taken her own life after her fiancé was killed.

  “It doesn’t seem right that she’s forgotten,” he’d told me gruffly. “This was her home, too.”

  A small brass plaque at the base of the tree bore Lydia’s name and the dates of her life. I’d looked at those numbers more than once, thinking of the brief and painful life they represented, and I was filled with gratitude . . . for my father, who’d come home and saved me that fateful day when I’d tried to end the pain with pills, for my mother, who’d never given up on me, and most of all, for Linc, who’d believed in me and lured me back to life. I hoped that somewhere, Lydia knew how often I thought of her. Just last week, Cal and I had gotten a lead on a painting that had belonged to the family. Apparently, the picture was of a young girl who fit Lydia’s age and description. I hoped it turned out to be her; Cal had promised that if it was, the Baker Foundation would buy it, and we’d hang it in the house, where it belonged.

  My attention was jerked back to Cora as a swell of applause rose. She turned, holding out an absurdly enormous pair of scissors to Linc, Cal and me. Everyone else stood aside as together, we cut the wide blue ribbon that stretched over the doorway.

  Oak Grove Plantation was officially back.

  “I think everyone’s finally gone.” Cora sighed, rubbing her forehead. “What a wonderful day, Jenna. I know I’ve said it before, but you should be very proud. This is quite an accomplishment. The Bryan County Historical Society is lucky to have you.”

  “Thank you.” Impulsively, I leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “And thank you for trusting me to do this. It’s been . . .” I let out a deep breath. “Life changing.”

  “Oh, and it’s not over yet.” Cora’s eyes twinkled. “Jenna, I’m going to leave you to lock up. Linc’s in the parlor, waiting for you. I’ll see you on Monday, dear.”

  I watched, puzzled, as Cora walked to her car. Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen Linc in a while. Going back into the house, I made my way to the parlor. And then I gasped.

  The room was filled with candles glowing from every surface. The part of me who was aware of the fire hazards in an old house was relieved to note that all the candles were in glass holders, making them safer. The romantic part of me only saw the man who stood in the middle of all the candlelight, holding out his hand to me.

  “What’s this?” I whispered, moving toward Linc.

  “This is me, making my next move.” He held my hand in his, threading our fingers together. “Jenna Sutton, you and I met on the front porch of this beautiful old house. We became friends within its walls. We had our very first kiss in the kitchen. Together, and with a lot of help, we brought it back to life.” He lifted my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “I couldn’t imagine a more perfect place to ask you to step with me into the future. Into our future.”

  Reaching into his pocket, he drew out a small black velvet box and opened it, revealing the most beautiful ring I’d ever seen. It was antique, I could tell; the setting reminded me of something from a hundred and fifty years ago, at least. As I admired the ring, Linc dropped to one knee.

  “Jenna, I love you. You are my life. You are what makes me want to get out of bed every morning, and you are who makes me even more eager to get back into bed every night.” He paused to wag his eyebrows at me. “If I can live the rest of my life with you at my side, in my arms, as my wife, I won’t need anything else.

  “Marry me, Jenna. Make a new family with Becca, Oliver and me, and with any other souls who happen to find their way to us. Make me the happiest man in the world, and let me live to make you happy and whole, every single day of the rest of your life.”

  I was trembling, breathless, and tears rolled down my cheeks. A year ago, I could hardly have pictured how incredible my life could become. This man, who knelt before me, had hauled me back to a place where I could find out who I was, who I wanted to be. He’d made me want to be brave again.

  I’d already given him my heart and my body. Now, as he slid the cool silver over my finger, I gave him the answer he wanted.

  “Yes.”

  If you enjoyed reading Jenna and Linc’s story, please help others enjoy it, too.

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  If you enjoyed the Always Love Trilogy, don’t miss The One Trilogy and the Crystal Cove Romances.

  Some of your favorite characters just might show up there, too.

  Always Our Love Play List

  I Can’t Make You Love Me – Bonnie Raitt

  Die A Happy Man Thomas – Rhett

  Cowboy Take Me Away – Dixie Chicks

  Come On Get Higher – Sugarland

  This One’s For the Girls – Martina McBride

  For My Broken Heart – Reba McEntire

  No Place That Far – Sara Evans

  Summer Cassadee – Pope

  Long Hot Summer – Keith Urban

  Different for Girls – Dierks Bentley, Elle King

  The Boys and Me – Sawyer Brown

  You and Forever and Me – Little Texas

  Song of the South – Alabama

  Something to Talk Abou
t – Bonnie Raitt

  Discover how it all started, back in Crystal Cove. Enjoy this taste of The Posse.

  “TO DANIEL.”

  “To Daniel.” Five glasses clinked together, but instead of the raucous laughter and jives that would normally have followed such a toast, there was only silence. The men around the bar looked at the floor, the wall or into their glasses—any place but at each other, where someone might have to acknowledge the deep sadness sunk into each face.

  Eric Fleming sniffed once, long and loud. “Can’t believe it’s been a year.”

  “Hell of a year for Jude, too,” put in Matt Spencer.

  “The real hell for her was the year before.” Logan Holt reached beneath the bar and pulled out another bottle of beer. “Taking care of Daniel, watching him disappear right in front of her.”

  They all nodded, wagging their heads in unison. No one in this crowd would ever dispute the way Jude Hawthorne had nursed her husband during his fight with cancer.

  “Dammit, did you see her face today? When we let go his ashes? I’m telling you, I’ve never seen anything sadder. But she held it together, man. Like she always did. Like she always does.” Cooper Davis rubbed a hand over his eyes.

  “Hell of a woman,” Matt said.

  “To Jude.” Mark held out his beer. “My baby sister. She and Daniel . . .” His voice trailed, and he coughed. “They were amazing together.”

  “What’s she going to do now?” Cooper dropped his empty into a nearby barrel and popped another top. “I mean, she’s holding onto the Tide, right? She’s not going to sell?”

  Mark shook his head. “Nah, why should she? It’s hers. It’s our family’s.”

  “I think the Tide and the kids are what kept her going this last year.” Logan traced the path of a drop of condensation down the side of his glass. “She won’t give that up.”

  “The kids are going back to school, right?” said Eric.

  “Yeah, Meggie’s heading back to Savannah this weekend, and Joseph is driving up to Gainesville with some friends next week.” Mark stood and stretched. “I gotta head home. Back to school tomorrow.”

  “You can’t go now. I’ve still got a bottle of Jack and three six-packs.” Logan glanced around the room. “Plus we’re not ready yet. To end this.”

  Mark sat down again without argument. Going home would mean more than the end of just the evening. Even though they had left the last of Daniel’s ashes in the rolling waves of the Atlantic that afternoon, as long as they remained here in Logan’s house, talking about their friend, he wasn’t really gone. Once they left, it would be over.

  The posse would be finished.

  “What if Jude doesn’t stay?” Eric spoke up from his perch in the corner. “What if she meets someone?”

  “Who’s she going to meet here in Crystal Cove?” Mark shrugged. “And I don’t think she’s even interested in that kind of thing.”

  “Not now. But she’s not exactly a washed up old lady, you know? And people come to the Cove. Tourists. Someone could stop at the Tide for breakfast, sweep her off her feet—”

  Cooper laughed. “You been hitting the romance stack at the library again, Eric? Sweep her off her feet, huh?”

  Matt took a long pull of his beer. “Could happen. Stranger things, you know.”

  Mark shook his head. “Jude won’t leave. Her life is here.”

  “Daniel was her life,” Logan said. “And he’s gone.”

  “She can’t. If Jude leaves, the posse is done for real.” Eric’s mouth twisted into a worried frown.

  They were silent again, each considering. If any of them were tempted to point out that with Daniel’s death, over thirty years of unbroken friendship was gone anyway, no one did. Jude had always been an unofficial member. She stood for Daniel now; there wasn’t any need to voice that.

  “What can we do?” Mark slumped back into his chair, covering his eyes. “Free world. We can’t make her stay. If she meets someone else, falls in love—or whatever, what are we going to do? Tell her no? As her big brother, I can promise you that doesn’t fly.”

  “It could be us. One of us could be the one to sweep her off her feet.” Matt’s words were measured, careful. “I mean, why not? We’ve all known each other forever. If I was married and then I was—well, wasn’t here anymore, I’d want one of you guys to take care of my wife.”

  “Daniel asked us to look after her.” Cooper poured another glass of whiskey. “I guess that’s true.”

  “Seriously?” Logan shook his head. “What is this, the Middle Ages? Our friend dies, so one of has to jump into his spot. Since when do we buy into arranged marriages?”

  “Who said anything about marriage?” Matt asked. “But a relationship between two consenting adults—old friends, who know everything about each other—why not? Why wouldn’t it work?”

  They all thought about it. It was crazy, but they’d done worse. And when they thought about Daniel, about Jude . . . there wasn’t anything any one of them wouldn’t do.

  “So who goes for it?” Cooper was the first one to speak. “How do we figure that out? Draw straws? Pissing contest?”

  “Well, Eric and I are both out. Wives might raise a fuss, plus—” Mark hooked two thumbs to his chest. “Brother. It’s between the rest of you.”

  “Why don’t we let Jude choose?” Logan flickered bright eyes between Cooper and Matt.

  “Are you crazy? Jude will never agree to that.” Matt rolled his eyes.

  “I don’t mean we tell her. I mean, we all . . . you know . . . like, date her. What do all the girls say? Court her. And whoever clicks, that’s the one.” Logan flipped up a hand.

  “You, me and Cooper?” Matt nodded. “Okay. Hey, I got nothing to lose. It’s not like women are beating down the door.”

  “If Jude gets wind of this, she’ll blow a gasket.” Mark crumbled his napkin, aimed for the trash can and missed.

  “I think we can keep it quiet. Nice shot, by the way.” Cooper punched his friend in the shoulder.

  “Basketball’s not my game. But listen, I’m serious. How are you going to keep this from her? Take turns?”

  “No.” Logan spoke definitively. “We act natural. We do what we would anyway—check in with her, take her to dinner, whatever. And then we see what happens.”

  “And no hard feelings, right? No matter who she chooses. We say it right up front now, Jude is the final word. Agreed?” Cooper laid a hand on the oak bar, a gesture that was old as their friendship. Matt slapped his own hand down on top, followed by Eric and Mark. Logan was last, unfurling a fist on the pile.

  “Deal,” he said. “Now let’s break out the good stuff.”

  Read the rest of the book (and all the Crystal Cove Romances) on your favorite ebook vendor!

  Jenna Sutton’s story was a long time coming, in many ways, as she was introduced back in The First One. In real-life time, that was only last year, but in the Burton/Crystal Cove world, it was quite a while ago. Jenna and Linc are two broken people who find a way to be whole together. Walking with them through that wasn’t always easy, but it was immensely gratifying.

  Their story also marks the end of another Burton trilogy. I think there are still some more stories in this town—at least, I hope there are. I’m not ready to say good-bye yet.

  So who will we see in future books? Lucie, Jenna’s best friend from high school, needs to tell her story. And who doesn’t want to get all the details about how Kiki and Troy hooked up? Beyond those characters, time will tell.

  This book touches on a subject about which I am passionate. Suicide is a tragedy that has become all too common, and prevention is crucial. If you are struggling with depression or thoughts of suicide, there is help. To find a hotline and other resources, visit twloha.com. And remember, I’m always around. Message me on Facebook. Tweet me. I promise, I will answer you and listen. Hope is real. Help is real. Your story is important. Don’t let it end before it’s over.

  A huge thanks to my d
ear friend and fellow Rocker Olivia Hardin, for every wonderful favor she does for me, for listening to me daily and for keeping me balanced. And to Mandie Stevens, for every bit of encouragement, cheerleading and kick in the pants—many thanks and much love.

  Thank you to the talented Meg Murrey for the gorgeous Always Love Trilogy covers. Smoking hot! And speaking of Always Love . . . Stacey Blake of Champagne Formats makes me always love the interiors of my books! Her talent and patience are extraordinary, and I couldn’t imagine having anyone else as my Florida family.

  My beta team rocks my socks! Big hugs of thanks to Carla Edmonson, Christy Durbin, Dawn Line, Marla Wenger, Ann Sutphin, Kara Schilling, Yvonne Farmer and Krissy Smith. You make everything so much smoother and keep me from making embarrassing errors . . . and you know what I’m talking about.

  This book is dedicated my Temptresses, and I am so grateful to each and every one of you. Being an author is fun . . . most of the time. For those times when road gets bumpy, it’s good to have friends.

  And of course, massive love to my family, who put up with my quirks, idiosyncrasies and eccentricities. I love you guys—you make me laugh daily, in the best way.

  Photo by Heather Batchelder

  Tawdra Kandle writes romance, in just about all its forms. She loves unlikely pairings, strong women, sexy guys, hot love scenes and just enough conflict to make it interesting. Her books run from YA paranormal romance through NA paranormal and contemporary romance to adult contemporary and paramystery romance. She lives in central Florida with a husband, kids, sweet pup and too many cats. And yeah, she rocks purple hair.

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