“I don’t know how I’m going to beat this experience next year,” he said.
They stomped up the steps to the hut’s wide porch, thankfully covered with a roof that spanned its length.
“Next year”—she poked a finger in his chest—“I’m organizing Valentine’s Day.”
“That’s probably safest.”
The door swung open, and a bearded face poked out. “Hullo, you two. Wet enough for ya? C’mon in.”
Inside the hut, a wood-burning stove crackled cozily, and the group of people huddled around one of the picnic-style tables greeted them warmly as Carly and Kip hauled off their packs. After a brief round of introductions to the other men and women in the hiking group, Bearded Guy, also known as Phil, gestured to one of the platform bunks.
“Plenty of room for you both. You’ll have a whole bunk row to yourself.”
“Appreciate it.” Kip slanted a glance over at Carly, who was surrounded by chatting women.
“Not much chance of romance tonight, sorry,” Phil said, following the direction of Kip’s gaze.
Kip dragged a hand down his jaw. “Yeah. The weather’s kind of screwed up any chance of popping the big question on Valentine’s night.”
Phil’s eyebrows disappeared into his curly brown hair. “Well, that’s a bugger, mate.” He scratched his head. “The wife’s got her little music player thingy here; we could always pull a flash mob proposal type thing if you want?”
With a chuckle, Kip dragged his sleeping bag out of his pack and tossed it on the bunk. “Thanks, but maybe not.” He had a quick feel around in the bottom of the pack, just to check—yep, it was still there. He dragged the ring case out and stuffed it into his pocket.
“There’s always the deck, if you want a little privacy.” Phil tipped his head toward the others. “I can keep this lot busy later with the pack of cards I brought. Give you a chance to take your lady outside and show her the stars.”
Rain splattered on the hut’s exposed windows.
Kip’s mouth twisted, and he sighed. “If this rain ever stops.”
Phil clapped him on the shoulder. “Mate, you do it right and your girl won’t even notice the lack of stars—or the rain.”
***
“I’m sorry my Valentine’s Day surprise sucked.”
Kip linked his fingers with Carly’s and led her to a bench strategically placed to capture the view of Port William Bay in the distance. “I’d pictured something a little more romantic than being your partner in a killer game of Five Hundred.”
Carly chuckled and they sat. Kip slipped an arm around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder with a sigh. Aside from sore feet, pleasantly aching calf muscles, and the silent vow that next time she and Kip went camping, she’d double check the weather forecast herself, she was having fun. Not romantic fun, but fun just the same. Phil and his hiking group had made them welcome, and even the couples’ horror stories of Valentine’s Day screw-ups had been more funny than fearful.
“Don’t apologize,” she said, using her elbow to deliver a gentle nudge to his ribs. “I’ve had fun. Even though you totally suck at any card game other than poker and Go Fish.”
The rain finally ceased, and the wind died down. Over the ocean, fingers of moonlight reached through the dissipating cloud cover.
“And who says this isn’t romantic?” She squeezed his leg and grinned. “You, me, the sound of the ocean, the moonlight…”
“The five couples eavesdropping in the cabin behind us.”
Carly turned her face into the Kip-scented curve of his neck. Even after a hike and a torrential downpour, the man smelled diabolically good. She kissed the line of his jaw, dragging her lips up across the first prickle of stubble and nipping his earlobe. “Then you’ll have to whisper sweet nothings in my ear so they can’t hear.”
Kip pulled back, his blue eyes dimmed to a dull pewter in the pale light. “Whisper, huh?”
She tilted her head, tapped her ear lobe. “Yep. Right here.”
His soft chuckle made her shiver. Warm breath caressed her skin, and touch of his lips to her neck triggered an ache deep inside.
Okay, maybe having ten other people sharing a room for the night wasn’t such a great idea.
“I love you.” His words floated out on another breath.
Carly closed her eyes.
“I will always love you, and it’s my mission in life to remind you of it every day.”
Her lips curved. “I like that mission.”
“Shhh.” He hushed her. “I haven’t finished yet.”
His words tickled her ear and made her squirm on the hard wooden seat. That, and the touch of his hand spanning her kneecap, taking her back to a few hours earlier, when he’d spread her knees apart and plunged deep inside her.
She squirmed more.
“I want to make you laugh,” he whispered. “And I frequently want to hear those hitching cries you make after a particularly intense orgasm.” His hand slid up from her knee to settle on her upper thigh.
She snickered, and a finger came to rest on her lips. She nibbled it and got her reward of another deep, rumbling chuckle that made her dull ache switch to a hot burn.
“I want to make you so happy that you’ll know no one in this world loves you as much as I do. I want to have a family with you, but more than anything…” Kip fumbled in his shorts pocket and a second later dropped to one knee.
Carly sucked in a breath—only to find her lungs had locked tight. She stilled, gaping at the sight of Kip on his knees, feeling as if she’d gulped down her favorite hokey-pokey ice-cream too fast and got a brain freeze.
“I want you to marry me, Carly Gatlin…” There was a soft snick as the little box in his hand flicked open, then the sparkle of moonlight off diamonds. “Make me the happiest man on Stewart Island.”
Silence, so thick she could’ve squeezed it in her hands, dropped over them. A kiwi’s distinctive cry came from somewhere in the surrounding bush. Trees sighed and hissed in the breeze, and inside the hut came the sound of scuffles, bumps and a muffled, “Shut the hell up, Terry. She hasn’t said ‘yes’ yet!”
Double-dammit. She still couldn’t get her lungs to take in a full breath. So she did the only thing her poor, stunned, happy-beyond-belief brain could think of to tell Kip her answer.
Carly flung herself off the bench seat into Kip’s arms. The feel of him—all big and warm and solid and hers—finally unclogged her throat.
“Yes, yes, yes!” she said loudly, so that neither Kip nor their ten eavesdroppers would miss her answer.
She kissed him, holding on tight to the thick span of muscle covering his shoulders, as if the ecstatic fluttering of her heart could cause her to float away into space. More than anything she wanted to marry Kip.
A happily-ever-after mission was the perfect Valentine’s Day surprise.
###
Read Carly & Kip’s full story…
Christmas With You
(Due South Book 4)
She’s a Holiday Grinch…
Carly Gatlin doesn’t want to spend another Christmas alone. With her beloved father gone, she’s desperate to be part of a family—so she’s spending the holidays with her step-brothers on Stewart Island. But even with sand, sun, and not a snowflake in sight, everything reminds her of what she’s lost. So no tree trimming, cookie baking, or kisses under the mistletoe for her, thanks. Especially not from Due South’s sexy bartender, Kip.
He’s a too-hot-for-his-Santa-suit killjoy...
Kip Sullivan’s moved hundreds of miles away from his family who’d like to see him married off before his next birthday—on Christmas Eve. Then ten days before the big event, his meddling relatives arrive en masse, and dear God, they’re planning to stay. With match-makers breathing down his neck, it’s becoming harder to ignore the temptation to unwrap Carly like a present under the tree.
The Kiwi barbecue isn't the only thing sizzling this summer...
Kip agrees to help m
ake Carly’s first New Zealand Christmas special. He’s got five holiday missions to complete—one involving a frisky fake reindeer—before he hopes to claim a mistletoe kiss…and maybe even Carly’s heart.
Christmas just isn’t Christmas without this spicy yet sweet Due South novella.
**This novella can be read as a stand-alone, but you’ll love it so much more if you’re read the earlier Due South novels.**
Click here to buy Christmas With You!
Kezia & Ben
Ben Harland stood at the back door of his house with his gut turning cartwheels.
Clutched in his left hand he held three red roses from Wally Nolan’s garden—his fingers still stinging from thorn scratches earned while impatiently snipping off the blooms from Wally’s prized bushes. In his right hand, Ben clasped a family-sized block of plain chocolate, and tucked under his arm, a hastily filled out “Congratulations” greeting card bought from Russell’s. He scrunched up his nose. It’d been “Congratulations” or a three-year-old boy’s birthday card complete with roaring T-Rex. At least he’d been able to write something a little bit romantic in the card, along the lines of “I love you, Kezia Murphy, and congrats on landing such a hot stud of a man.”
If he was lucky, really lucky, his fiery Italian fiancée would find his pathetic attempts at Valentine’s Day amusing.
Ben opened the door and stepped inside. “Anybody miss me?”
“Dad!” cried two little voices from the dining table.
His daughter, Jade, waggled her pencil in greeting. Next to her, with elbows propped on her open homework book, sat his soon-to-be stepdaughter, Zoe. Both girls grinned.
“Mama’s getting changed into something special. Me n’ Jade helped make your favorite lasagne for dinner tonight, and for desert we also made—” Zoe paused, cocking her head. “Is that chocolate?”
Ben crossed into the kitchen, gently tugging one of his daughter’s pigtails and patting Zoe’s head. “For your mamma. Maybe she’ll share.”
“We’ll see if she’ll swap for one of our cupcakes,” said Jade.
Zoe jabbed her in the ribs with an elbow. “Jadey, that was meant to be a surprise!”
Jade clapped a hand to her mouth and kicked out her legs. From under the table came an indignant whuff, followed by the sound of claws on wood as Sparky, the girls’ pain-in-the-butt-but-cute dog wandered out.
Sparky licked Ben’s bare toes and then did the pick-me-up leg scratching thing. He tossed the chocolate and card on the table, bent and scratched the little dog’s head, because yeah, the mutt had grown on him in the ten months since Jade rescued her from the pound.
A flash of red in his peripheral vision yanked his attention from the floor to the doorway. Kezia stood, one hand on the hip of her silky red dress, the same one she’d worn on the night of the bachelor auction. The little witch knew what effect that dress had on him. Her eyes sparkled, and she tossed her dark curls over her shoulder, which only served to emphasize his woman’s amazing rack.
“You bought me chocolate, amore mio?”
Ben dragged his gaze from Kez’s chest to her crimson-slicked lips, which were curved in a knowing smile. Sparky whined and danced around his feet.
“And flowers.” He held up the roses, the hastily wrapped plastic bag around the stems rustling.
Maybe they weren’t wrapped all fancy the way Shaye’s had arrived this morning, but he’d promised Wally Nolan two decent sized snapper the next time Ben was out fishing. He’d sacrificed.
“A card, too,” she said, crossing the kitchen and laying a hand on his biceps, while dipping her face to sniff the roses. “I’m very impressed.”
“You’ll be even more impressed when I kiss you senseless in the next five seconds.” He glanced at Jade. “Are you and Zoe going to watch us exchanging spit? Or do you wanna go grab a vase?”
Jade scrunched up her nose. “Dad, eww, TMI.” She took the flowers out of his hand. “We’ll find a vase so we don’t have to watch your grossness.”
“Kissing’s not gross.” Ben chuckled as the girls slid from their chairs. “You just wait ‘til we get married—when the minister guy says, ‘You can kiss the bride,’ I’m going for a solid minute record with your mamma.”
Zoe mock shuddered then giggled, scooping up Sparky and letting the dog lick her cheeks.
“And that’s not gross?” Ben said.
“Some people say dogs have cleaner mouths than humans,” Zoe said.
“She also uses that tongue to lick her culo,” Kezia said. “So after you put the flowers in water, go wash your face and get ready for dinner.”
With disgusted squeals, the two girls disappeared into the laundry room off the kitchen to find a vase.
Ben stepped forward, wrapped an arm around Kez’s back, and lowered her into a dramatic dip. She smiled up at him, sliding her fingers into his hair, gripping his biceps with the other hand. His skin tingled under her touch, as it always did, and the exotic scent of her perfume addled his brain cells. Enough to make him as giddy as a teenager, but not enough to dull his appreciation of his favorite dress and his woman’s to-die-for curves filling it.
“Now, where were we?” he said, lowering his mouth to a fraction away from her lips.
“You were going to kiss me senseless, caro,” she murmured. “An attempt to make me forget you only remembered it was Valentine’s Day twenty minutes ago.”
He kissed her then—long, wet, soulful, pouring everything he had into each touch of his tongue to hers. Screw one day a year to tell Kezzy how much she meant, how much he loved every single little thing about her. Each day he woke up next to her, his blurry eyes clearing to see her wild curls spread over his pillow and feel her legs tangled with his, he thanked whatever God or fate had blessed him with this incredible woman.
With this family.
When they finally ran out of air, he raised her to her feet and wriggled his eyebrows. “So, how’s your memory, baby?”
She rose up on tiptoes and brushed a quick kiss across his mouth. “What was I supposed to remember again?”
He tugged one of Kez’s spiralling curls and shot her a wicked grin. “That you promised me a personal lap dance later.”
“You’ll be lucky, big guy,” she said, but her tone made a sexy promise of what was to come. “Now, go sit down in the family room, and I’ll bring you a beer to have before dinner.”
Ten minutes later, sprawled on the couch with his beer, some mindless kids’ movie playing on the TV, Ben sighed in contentment. From the kitchen drifted the delicious cheesy-meaty-tomato-ish aroma of his dinner baking. Kezia curled up against him on one side with a glass of wine, Jade and Zoe sat on his other side, transfixed by the screen. Sparky turned in circles on his lap trying to find the perfect spot to snooze. Not quite the lap dance he’d envisioned, but Ben smiled, stroking his hand down Kezia’s bare arm.
He’d aced this Valentine’s Day gig, for sure.
***
Two weeks later…
“Men,” grumbled Shaye, shutting the door. “So impatient. Such big babies.”
From the other side came muffled Italian expletives and stomping footsteps disappearing down Due South’s hallway.
Kezia glanced over from her position in front of the full-length mirror and smoothed the champagne-colored silk shift dress over her hips. Behind her, Piper sat on the hotel bed, fidgeting with her strappy sandals.
“Which brother was it this time?” she asked. “The cute one who looks like Bradley Cooper? Or the scary one, the one who looks like De Niro in The Godfather?”
“The scary one.” Shaye crossed to Kezia’s side and draped an arm around her bare shoulder. “But this level of bridal gorgeousness can’t be rushed.”
Butterflies the size of sparrows swooped around Kezia’s stomach.
“Oh Lord.” She pressed a hand against the dive-bombing sparrows. “What if Ben doesn’t come? He wasn’t exactly enthused about this surprise party for Bill and Del—what if he suspects
something?”
Piper issued a loud snuff of disdain and stood, wriggling her bottom to shake out the soft folds of her pale green dress. “My brother is as dumb as a bag of rocks as far as you’re concerned.” She, too, came to stand at Kezia’s side. “When you say ‘I’m organizing a welcome home surprise party for the Westlakes, be there’—he’ll be there, and he won’t suspect a damn thing until he sees you all beautified up. All credit due to your amazing bridesmaids, but you can thank us later.”
“Unless he catches sight of Nicky, Tony, Matt, or Carlo,” Kezia said. “Even though he’s only met Nicky once, if he sees four big Italian guys at the pub, he’ll guess in an instant.”
“Which is why your brothers have been banned from going out in public since they flew in this morning, and why they’re currently bitching like teenage girls in the next room.” Piper angled her hips and narrowed her gaze at her reflection. “Does my baby bump look big in this dress?”
“No.” Shaye rolled her eyes and shot Kezia a smirk in the mirror. “Though you’ve finally got some boobs filling out the front of it.”
Piper cupped herself. “I know, right?” Then she dropped her hands away and slid an arm around Kezia’s waist. “It’s going to be wonderful, and Ben will think you’re the world’s most amazing woman for not making him go through the rigmarole of a fancy schmancy wedding, which everyone knows he’d secretly hate.”
“Let’s hope he takes the hint to wear the new shirt I left on the wardrobe door for him,” Kezia said, applying a smile to her face that looked a lot braver than she felt.
When Ben arrived at Due South’s pub, filled with the usual assortment of locals and Kezia’s two sisters-in-law, who Ben wouldn’t recognize, she’d make an entrance on Nicky’s arm. And ten minutes after that, she hoped to shed her title of young widow and exchange it for crazily happy new bride.
My Forever Valentine: New Zealand Happy-Ever-After Romance (Due South: A Sexy New Zealand Romance Book 5) Page 4
