Next Time...Forever

by Sherryl Woods

  The tedious drive to Savannah had never taken longer. All during the five-and-a-half-hour trip she went over her arguments, trying to brace herself for the moment when she’d have to use them to convince Dillon that this could work, that they could have a life together without sacrificing his needs or hers.

  By the time she’d parked in front of the carriage house, she was sure she could make it work. Two hours later, when Dillon still hadn’t called, her faith began to waver. She began to cook. She chopped. She minced. She stirred. Like therapy, she found it soothing. She’d made coq au vin, a salad that could have served all the tourists in town, fresh rolls and three pies. She was considering baking a cake, when she heard the scrape of a key in the lock. She froze. Despite all her pep talks, she wasn’t ready to face him.

  “Catherine?”

  “In the kitchen,” she said breathlessly.

  When she finally found nerve enough to turn around, he was standing in the doorway. His dark hair was windblown, his tie was askew. He looked very much like a man who’d rushed to get there. He looked wonderful.

  “You look wonderful,” he said quietly.

  “Thank you.”

  “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you too.”

  “I’ve been thinking,” they said together, then laughed nervously.

  “You first,” she said.

  “Maybe we should have some wine. Do you have a bottle?”

  “In the dining room.” While he was gone, she clung to the counter and dragged in a deep breath. She was determined to be composed when she faced him again. She was determined he would never see how just the sight of him had shaken her.

  “Catherine,” he said softly.

  She whirled around and found herself nearly in his arms. Their gazes collided and held. She swallowed hard and tried not to back away.

  “Your wine.” He held out the glass. She took it, careful not to allow their fingers to brush. The temperature in the kitchen had already risen several degrees. One touch was all it would take to set her blood on fire. One touch would ignite all of the old passions and they would never say the words that had to be spoken.

  “To warm thoughts,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers.

  She pulled her gaze away and sipped desperately at the wine. It only made her hotter, more uncertain. She’d longed to seem cool. She’d wanted desperately to be bold. Instead, she was simply Catherine. For better or worse.

  “I’ve been thinking,” he said again. “I’ve made some decisions.”

  “Oh.”

  “The past six weeks have been the most miserable I’ve ever spent in my life. I finally had to do some serious reevaluating of my goals.”

  “And? What did you come up with?”

  He leaned nonchalantly against the counter. His carefully chosen words belied the casual stance. “It all kept coming back to you. I don’t want to lose you.”

  She bit her lip to keep from crying out. She clung to the wineglass to keep from throwing her arms around him. She waited, tension spreading through her, hope held desperately at bay.

  “I’ve finally sat down and had a long talk with Evan about the company. As a result, he’s now a full partner. He’s going to run the New York office. He can’t handle it all alone yet, but it’s a start.”

  “He must be very happy,” she said cautiously.

  “I’ve also decided to open an office here in Savannah. I have two clients here now and prospects seem good for more. I’ll still have to travel to New York and Los Angeles, but I should be able to change my pace quite a bit if everything works out with Evan.”

  Catherine felt a wave of relief wash through her, followed by one nagging suspicion. The timing of this seemed very odd. Was it possible that Beth had called Dillon and prodded him into making these radical changes today, the same notions that had been planted in her mind by a worried friend?

  She cleared her throat. “Um, when did you decide all this?”

  “Evan and I started talking about it about two weeks after you left. The pieces finally fell into place today. I took the first plane out to tell you about it.”

  Catherine had to fight off the desire to laugh hysterically. Today! He’d finalized the plans today. But he’d made the decision on his own, reached the same exact conclusion she had reached.

  “Well,” he said. “You’re not saying anything. What do you think?”

  “I think…” She began to grin. She could feel the smile growing wider and wider. “I think this is the most wonderful news I’ve ever had in my life,” she said, no longer fighting her elation.

  “Are you sure?” he said, regarding her hesitantly.

  “Oh, Dillon, I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life. We’ll be happy here. I know we will. We can go to New York as often as you want to see your sons. We can find a house. The boys can have their own rooms for when they come to visit. I’ll sell the one in Atlanta. It’s going to be perfect.”

  He seemed to be struggling with an emotion every bit as powerful as what she was feeling. “I was so afraid,” he admitted in a choked voice. He pulled her into his arms and held her. “If I’d lost you, Catherine, I don’t know what I would have done.”

  “But you didn’t lose me. There wasn’t a single minute that I didn’t believe that we would find a way to work it out.”

  He leaned back and regarded her so skeptically that she finally smiled. “Okay, maybe there were one or two minutes, when I had a few doubts. It didn’t last.”

  “I don’t know why it took me so long to see it,” he said. “I’ve liked Savannah more and more each time I’ve been here. The work I’ve been doing for White Stone is some of the best I’ve ever done. Most important, you’re happy here. Evan suggested I locate the office in Atlanta, but I like the idea that this will be a fresh start for both of us in the city where we met.”

  “I agree.”

  “You won’t mind not being in Atlanta?”

  “No. My ties there have loosened with every week I’ve been away. My parents won’t be happy, but it’s not as if I’ll be at the ends of the earth. They’ll adjust.”

  “Your father may, but your mother? I’m not so sure.”

  “She’ll grumble, but if we offer her two new grandsons to spoil, it should make up for my absence.”

  “Two? You are ambitious.”

  “I meant Jonathan and Kevin.”

  “What about their baby sister then?”

  “I didn’t know you were even pregnant,” she teased him.

  “Okay, enough. You’re happy about Savannah. You’d enjoy working here after you finish school?”

  “Absolutely, and best of all there are no ghosts here. Just long, lazy days to build a new life together.”

  “Lazy?” he said, one brow lifting quizzically.

  “Okay, bad choice of words. I won’t ask for the impossible.”

  He touched her lips. “No, sweetheart. Always ask. Together, even the impossible seems within reach.”

  EPILOGUE

  May 16

  “I simply don’t understand why you insisted on getting married on May 16,” Lucinda Devereaux told Catherine as she rearranged her veil. “It’s the middle of the week. No one can take off to come clear down here for a wedding.”

  “We met on May 16 two years ago,” Catherine explained patiently as she put the veil back the way it had been. “And I don’t know how you can complain about the guest list. You must have had two hundred acceptances. The owner of the restaurant is ecstatic.”

  * * *

  “I should think he would be,” her mother said haughtily. “It’s probably more business than he usually gets in an entire week.”

  “Hardly. It’s a very popular restaurant.”

  “It’s a seafood place, Catherine. No one holds a wedding reception in a seafood restaurant.”

  “Maybe no Devereaux does, but the Ryans of New York, Atlanta and Savannah do. It has a sentimental meaning for us.”

&n
bsp; “I suppose that’s where you met.”

  “It is.”

  “I just hope they aired it out. I’d hate to have all our guests smelling like catfish.”

  “Mother, stop fussing. Go talk to Dad or something. I want to find Dillon.”

  “Dillon? For heaven sakes, Catherine, you can’t see him before the wedding.”

  “Oh, but I can,” she said, marching off.

  “Catherine!”

  She turned back. “Think of it this way, Mother. I’m setting new trends.”

  “You’re playing havoc with traditions.”

  She found Dillon trying to tie Kevin’s bow tie. He was making a real mess of it. “Let me,” she said, pushing him aside. “You look very handsome, Kevin. You, too, Jonathan.”

  “What about me?” Dillon demanded.

  “I’m not supposed to look at you.”

  “You’ve obviously been talking to your mother again. She is not happy that there’s no full orchestra to play the wedding march.”

  “She’ll have to learn to live with the flute and the trumpet.”

  “How did you ever find those two musicians we heard on our first real date?”

  “A desperate woman can accomplish miracles.”

  “The ad in the paper helped,” Beth noted, coming up behind them. “I don’t suppose you all would like to get this show on the road?”

  “What’s the matter?” Catherine teased. “Don’t you get full credit for your matchmaking talent until after the ceremony?”

  “Matchmaking?” Dillon repeated, his expression confused. “Do I know this woman?”

  “No, but you will,” Beth promised. “I will remind you until the day you die how much you owe me. Without me, Catherine might never have had the nerve to try and convince you to move to Savannah.”

  “Beth!” Catherine protested weakly.

  The warning came too late. Dillon had already picked up on the remark. Beth looked from one to the other and moaned. “Uh-oh.”

  “Indeed,” Catherine said.

  “I think I’d better go check the flowers.”

  “Good idea.”

  “What was she talking about?” Dillon demanded.

  “You remember Valentine’s Day?”

  “The day I came down here after you.”

  “Well, I never did mention that I’d called your office that morning and I guess Helene never mentioned it, either, because you never said anything, right?”

  “I’m with you so far.”

  “Remember I told you that I’d been thinking, but then I told you to go first?”

  “I think I remember something like that.”

  “Well, I had decided that I was going to try and convince you to move to Savannah and open an office. Beth prodded me into at least talking the idea over with you. I told Helene I needed to see you urgently. When you came in, I thought that was why you were here.”

  Dillon started chuckling when she was halfway through telling him. “I guess my announcement must really have thrown you for a loop.”

  “You could say that.”

  “It just proves one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Two minds that much in tune belong together. We’ll be unbeatable.”

  “You bet we will,” she said softly just as his mouth closed over hers. The kiss was filled with all the tenderness, all the love that Dillon had to offer.

  It was definitely the beginning of forever.

  * * * * *

  “Sherryl Woods writes emotionally satisfying novels about family, friendship and home. Truly feel-great reads!”

  —#1 New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber

  Love can be found in the most unexpected of places…

  And sometimes, it takes a family’s help to find it.

  Join #1 New York Times bestselling author Sherryl Woods and the Carlton family in the Perfect Destinies saga, where true love, a little matchmaking, second chances and a sassy tale of revenge (with an unexpected twist) await:

  Isn’t It Rich?

  Priceless

  Treasured

  Destiny Unleashed

  Looking for more great reads from Sherryl Woods?

  Catch up with the O’Brien family in Chesapeake Shores, where stories of friendship, family and love are only just around the corner—you may never want to leave. Collect the complete series!

  The Inn at Eagle Point

  Flowers on Main

  Harbor Lights

  A Chesapeake Shores Christmas

  Driftwood Cottage

  Moonlight Cove

  Beach Lane

  An O’Brien Family Christmas

  The Summer Garden

  A Seaside Christmas

  The Christmas Bouquet

  Dogwood Hill

  Willow Brook Road

  “Woods’s amazing grasp of human nature and the emotions that lie deep within us make this story universal.”

  —RT Book Reviews on Driftwood Cottage

  Or take a trip to Serenity, South Carolina, where the Sweet Magnolias are always in season and sweet romance is only ever a stone’s throw away:

  Stealing Home

  A Slice of Heaven

  Feels Like Family

  Welcome to Serenity

  Home in Carolina

  Sweet Tea at Sunrise

  Honeysuckle Summer

  Midnight Promises

  Catching Fireflies

  Where Azaleas Bloom

  Swan Point

  “Woods employs her signature elements—the Southern small-town atmosphere, the supportive network of friends and family, and the heartwarming romance—to great effect.”

  —Booklist

  Order your copies today!

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  Read on for a special first look at Sherryl’s latest Chesapeake Shores novel, Willow Brook Road, now available from MIRA Books.

  CHAPTER ONE

  The original Mick O’Brien–designed cottage on Willow Brook Road had been built with weathered gray shingles, white trim and a tiny back porch barely big enough for two rockers side by side. They faced Willow Brook, which fed into the Chesapeake Bay. The backyard sloped gently to the brook, with the graceful branches of a trademark weeping willow touching the lawn at the water’s edge. The peaceful setting was just right for quiet conversation or relaxing with a good book.

  In front the cottage featured a small yard with an actual white picket fence and a climbing yellow rosebush that tumbled over it with a profusion of fragrant blooms. Bright red and hot pink geraniums filled pots on the stoop in a vibrant display of clashing colors. The property oozed picturesque charm.

  With three cozy bedrooms and a fireplace in the living room and a surprisingly large eat-in kitchen, it was the perfect Chesapeake Shores vacation getaway or a starter home for a small family, but Carrie Winters had been living there alone and at loose ends for almost six months now. The only personal touch she’d added beyond the mismatched furniture she’d acquired from various family attics was the portrait of the whole O’Brien family taken at the Christmas wedding of her twin, Caitlyn.

  These days, sitting in one of those rockers for more than a minute or two made her antsy. After two years in a pressure-cooker public relations job at which she’d excelled, being idle was a new experience, and one she didn’t particularly like. She was too distracted for reading anything deeper than the local weekly newspaper. And though she loved to cook, making fancy meals for one person just left her feeling lonely.

  Worst of all, she seemed incapable of motivating herself to get out of this funk she’d been in ever since coming home. Chesapeake Shores might be where she wanted—or even needed—to
be as she tried to piece her life back together and reevaluate her priorities, but it had created its own sort of pressure.

  While the rest of the O’Brien clan was unmistakably worried about her, her grandfather Mick was bordering on frantic. O’Briens did not waste time or wallow in self-pity, which was exactly what Carrie had been doing ever since the breakup of her last relationship. Timed to coincide with the crash and burn demolition of her career in the fashion industry, the combination had sent her fleeing from Paris and straight back to her loving family.

  Carrie sighed and took a first sip of the one glass of wine she allowed herself at the end of the day. Wallowing was one thing. Getting tipsy all alone was something else entirely. Even she was wise enough to see that.

  An image of Marc Reynolds, the fashion world icon she’d thought she loved, crept into her head, as it did about a hundred times a day. That was down from about a million when she’d first flown home from Europe after the breakup. If it could even be called that, she thought wryly. Truthfully, she’d finally realized that Marc thought of her more as a convenient bed partner and workhorse whose public relations efforts for his fashion empire had helped to put it on the fast track to international acclaim. Unbeknownst to her, his heart apparently belonged to a she-devil, self-absorbed model who treated him like dirt. Carrie could relate, since Marc had pretty much done the same to her. She was still struggling to understand how her judgment could possibly have been so clouded that she hadn’t seen that sooner. Surely the signs had been there. Had she been so besotted she’d missed them? If so, how could she possibly trust her instincts about a man again?

  Not that she was going to let that be an issue anytime soon. She was swearing off the male of the species until she figured out who she was and what she truly wanted. At the rate she was progressing on that front, it could take years.

  Enough! she told herself firmly, carrying her almost-full glass inside and stepping over a scattering of toys as she went. She smiled as she picked up a floppy-eared bunny and set it gently in a chair. A stack of children’s picture books sat on a nearby table.