They managed to escape, slipping out a side door into a wide corridor where it was hushed and cool and secluded.
He barely whispered her name before kissing her on the mouth and getting the same enthusiasm in return.
“I missed you,” he murmured into the kiss.
“Mmmm.” She inched back, eyes closed, smile wide. “Me, too.”
“Emma.” He closed his palms over her face and held it, her warm, soft cheeks like heaven in his hands. “I have to tell you something.”
“I know you’re sorry, Mark—”
“I love you.”
“You do.” It wasn’t a question.
“I love your heart and your humor and your…”
“Give me another h-word and I’m yours.”
He laughed, dropping his head back for the pure joy that the feeling sent through him. “I love you,” he said again. “It’s all I have. No alliteration, no epic groveling, though I owe it to you, just plain love that I want to share with you for the rest of our lives.”
“Oh, Mark. I love you, too.” She choked on the admission. “I knew it the moment I left. I made it as far as Charlotte, spent the night in the airport and got on the first flight back to Florida. My luggage is…somewhere. I met with Lacey, and she told me that when you called last night, she really understood everything.” She glanced in the direction of the banquet room. “And she even gave me clothes to wear. When I arrived at the reunion, I was planning to find you, but I ran into Libby, who already knew the truth, so those girls helped me cook up the whole thing.”
“Those girls.” He laughed ruefully. “I shouldn’t have been so terrified of them.”
“No, but after they heard why you were so afraid to be alone at this event, they decided to embarrass the hell out of you onstage.”
“I deserved it,” he admitted, pulling her into him and toward a back beach exit. “Let’s go home,” he whispered. “Let’s make love.”
“All night.”
At the edge of the sand, they stopped and looked down at their feet.
“You know what the marketing says,” Mark teased.
“Kick off your shoes and fall in love.”
Mark toed off his loafers, and as he bent to pick them up, he kissed her cheek. “Done and done.”
Arm in arm, they walked along Barefoot Bay, the music of the sixties still audible from the banquet room.
“So, what changed your mind, Em?”
“Not what. Who.”
He slowed down and turned to her. “Who?”
“I met a woman who made me think. She made me realize that a man like you comes along once in a lifetime, or maybe twice.” She wrapped both arms around him and laid her head on his chest. “And she made me realize I have nothing to fear with you.”
“She was right.” He lifted her chin to look into her eyes. “Whoever she was, I love this woman.”
“Yeah,” she said with a sly smile. “You’d have loved her.”
“But I love you, Em.” He took her hands and stepped back, holding her gaze. “And you get to pick the place. Name it, and I’ll make it happen.”
She frowned. “What place?”
“The romantic proposal of your dreams. You want the Champs-Élysées? The Tiger’s Nest Monastery? Skydiving? The moon? Where do you want me to pop the question?”
She reached up and touched his face. “The place I’m going to call home and so will my husband if he’s not running from anything. Barefoot Bay.”
Placing his hand over hers, he pressed her palm to his cheek, then turned his head to kiss it.
“I’m not trying to escape or run from anything anymore,” he said. “You’ve grounded me. Right down…to the sand.” He dropped to one knee and held on to her hand. “Marry me, Emma DeWitt. And be my soul mate.”
She looked at him for a long time, hesitating long enough that his heart actually slipped in his chest.
Finally, she pulled his hand to her mouth. “Yes. Yes. A thousand million times yes!”
He was up and kissing her in an instant, spinning her on the sand as she called out, “Yes!” as loud as she could.
He scooped her up, unable to wait another minute to get her home.
“Emma Solomon!” She dropped her head back and laughed. “Isn’t that a great name?”
“Yes,” he agreed, scooting her higher for one more kiss. “Emma Solomon is the most beautiful name I’ve ever heard.”
Sneak Peek of
Barefoot at Moonrise
by Roxanne St. Claire
Chapter One
Ken Cavanaugh charged into burning buildings on a routine basis. He faced life-threatening emergencies, unforeseen crises, and potential disasters almost every day with titanium nerves and steady hands. He led a crew of fearless, tough, muscle-bound mavericks who turned to him for wisdom, guidance, life-or-death decisions, and changes in their shift schedule. And, icing on his résumé cake, Captain Cav was the fan favorite to lead the fire station tours because women and children loved him.
So why the hell did his feet feel like he was wearing iron boots? Why did his pulse thump as though he was seconds from stroking out? All he had to do was walk across a banquet hall in the middle of a high school reunion and talk to a woman, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
Because Bethany Endicott had frozen him out this week no matter how he’d tried to thaw her. Of course, he might have had that coming, considering their past.
But twenty-five years had passed since he’d been a grieving, angry eighteen-year-old who wanted to hurt anyone named Endicott…including his girlfriend.
All he really wanted to do was put that dark day—all those dark days, in fact—in the past and clear the air.
He had to talk to her before this week went up in smoke and he could do nothing but watch his chance burn to the ground.
For one week, during the interminable “planning” of this reunion, they had yet to have a substantive conversation. There was plenty of eye contact, all kinds of accidental brushes, and a low-grade simmer that stretched his nerves—and libido—to the limits. He’d caught her gazing at him on more than one occasion, but any time he’d initiated a conversation, she managed to be suddenly pulled away or busy.
Who could blame her? He could rationalize what happened between them all those years ago for the rest of his life, and the fact was, he’d said things that had to hurt, and now he just wanted to apologize.
Wasn’t that kind of what high school reunions were for?
But time was running out, though, leaving tonight, the night of the all-class Mimosa High reunion at Barefoot Bay’s swanky resort, for Ken to make his move. After this, they’d go back to their regular lives, and another twenty-five years might pass before they saw each other again.
This was his last chance.
“Come on, Cav. Tap that powder keg.”
Ken didn’t even turn to give Lawson Monroe a dirty look when the man sidled up next to him. Law was three years Ken’s senior, and they hadn’t known each other in high school—though Ken knew of Law’s reputation for trouble—but this week the two men had had no choice but to hang out together at the various reunion-planning sessions. In the process, Ken grew to appreciate Law’s irreverent sense of humor and signature sarcasm.
He’d let Law and Mark Solomon, who’d rounded out the trio of Y chromosomes on the planning committee, think his interest in Beth Endicott was physical—which wasn’t a lie. She still got him fired up with one look. But there was more to his need to get Beth alone. Much more.
“Seriously, Captain Cav, what are you waiting for?” Law needled. “A kick in the ass? A glass of courage? I’m so pleased to provide both.” Law offered a glass of beer. “For you, since I don’t drink.”
Ken took the beer and sipped. Let the man think all Ken wanted to do was hit on a pretty woman. He couldn’t tell them the truth. He could never tell anyone the truth, but that was something he’d accepted years ago.
He could still apolog
ize to Beth, and wanted to.
Looking around, he considered his next opportunity to get Beth alone. There would be desserts and after-dinner drinks back on the beach following this. Could he talk to her there?
“When is this dance contest thing over?” Ken asked.
“When the thousand-year-old couple keels over.”
Ken smiled, taking in the seventy-seven-year-olds who’d stepped onto the stage to close out the decades-themed dance competition. Decked out in 1950s costumes for a jitterbug, the married oldsters were surrounded by a few more generations of their family cheering them on. “They met at Mimosa High, class of 1956,” he mused. “Married forever.”
Law grunted like the very thought pained him. “Damn, that’s a long time to ride the same love boat every night.”
“Seriously. How the hell does a guy get so lucky?” Ken avoided Law’s cynical expression to steal another glance across the hall. The crowd broke enough for him to get a glimpse at the short, white skirt that flared over Beth’s thighs, showing off her heart-stopping legs and killer red and white high heels. She loved her high heels and short skirts, and wore them just as well now as she had in 1991.
She was watching the show, checking her phone, and occasionally glancing at the exit to the deck behind her.
He had to move.
“Boredom sets in fast,” Law said. “I need variety.”
“Variety gets boring, too,” Ken replied. “I’d rather have something steady.”
“Shoot me now,” Law joked. “Two-point-five and a minivan in the driveway is my idea of hell on earth. Anyway, I hate to burst your bubble, but I heard your Beth is the poster girl for I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar.”
His Beth. If only. Ken’s gaze drifted across the room, catching her checking her cell phone for the sixtieth time that hour. Who the hell was she waiting to hear from?
“Weren’t you a freaking Navy first responder before you became a firefighter?” Law demanded. “Failure isn’t an option for you life-saving types.”
No, failure wasn’t an option. Not in his line of work, not in his life. But where Beth was involved? It had been a fail all those years ago, and starting to look like a fail tonight.
“Pretend the place is on fire and you have to evacuate her to the nearest…bedroom.” Law took the beer back. “Don’t make me show you how it’s done, son.”
Ken checked out the couple on the stage, twirling—slowly—for their big ending. Everything in his gut told him Beth would never stay for dessert on the beach. She’d been half checked out all week long, barely showing up for any of the committee crap he’d agreed to do when he saw her name on the list.
Maybe it wasn’t a man who had her glued to the phone. Maybe it was work. Maybe it was…him. Ray Endicott. He knew only that she was in some kind of housing and real estate business, so it was more than likely she worked for her father.
An old, familiar metallic taste filled his mouth when he thought of the coldhearted bastard responsible for shattering Ken’s world. No conversation with Beth would ever change the truth of that, but she wasn’t responsible, and he wanted her to know he didn’t blame her.
“All right,” he said. “I’m going in.”
“Get ’er done, Captain.”
Ken gave a quick nod and made his way across the room. Being six-two made it easy to see over most heads, but the crowd was thick with huggers and dancers and drinkers. To avoid them, and the possibility that someone would stop him to talk, he swerved toward the perimeter of the room. Staying locked on that golden hair spilling over bare shoulders and a sleek red halter top, he was steady and sure now.
Beth’s gaze drifted over the crowd and settled on the spot where Ken had been standing with Law. Blue eyes narrowed, and a slight frown creased her forehead. She angled her head a bit, and her shoulders dropped as if she’d sighed.
As if…she was disappointed that he’d left.
Buoyed by that, he powered forward, slipping between two people with a quick, “’Scuze me.”
“Oh no, you don’t!” A woman’s fingers snagged his elbow and squeezed, jerking him to a stop. “Ken Cavanaugh, if you don’t remember me, my heart’s going to break into a thousand pieces.”
He turned quickly toward a petite woman with frosted-blond curls and glasses, with zero recognition of her face. “I…uh…sorry…I’m—”
“Chrissie Bartlett!” she exclaimed, her voice rising along with her wine glass. “Spanish 1? Freshman year? Señora Norton’s class?”
Oh yeah. He remembered the name. Remembered that she hadn’t given him the time of day in Spanish class back then. “Hi, Chrissie.”
She came a little closer. “You’ve changed, Kenny.”
Kenny. The only person who’d ever gotten away with calling him that was…inching closer to the exit. “It’s been a long time,” he said, trying to move away. “We’ve all changed.”
“For the better,” she added.
Yeah, because now he wasn’t from the wrong side of Mimosa Key.
Another woman joined them, a three- or four-drink gleam in her eyes. “I don’t think we ever talked in high school,” she said. “I’m Marta Burns.”
Marta Burns? No, they’d never talked, because Ken worked construction jobs after school while they were busy with clubs and crap to pad their college applications.
“I hear you’re a firefighter. And the captain, no less.” Chrissie added a squeeze to his bicep, blocking Marta from getting any closer. “Impressive.”
“Yeah.” He glanced back to Beth, catching her making a quick scan of the room as she moved toward the door. Was she looking for him?
“Excuse me, Chrissie, but I—”
“Hey, Chrissie, why’d you slip away?” Another man approached, much shorter than Ken and with way less hair. He threw a look at Ken, who gladly stepped away to let him flirt with Chrissie. The whole thing took two seconds, long enough for him to lose sight of Beth.
Damn it. He made a few comments, shook a hand, threw out one more excuse, and finally got away, muscling through the rest of the crowd to reach the side exit that led out to a large wooden deck.
But it was empty, with no sign of Beth.
Swallowing a dark curse, he took a few steps toward the railing, and then spotted a pair of red and white high heels tucked by the stairs that led to the sand.
He couldn’t help smiling, because, hell, this was better than Cinderella. She’d left only one shoe.
All he had to do was follow the footprints in the sand.
* * *
Want to go back to Barefoot Bay again and again? You can!
The Barefoot Bay Series is really several mini-series all set on one gorgeous island. Every single book in the series can be picked up and enjoyed whether you’ve read none, some, or all of the others. This way, readers can either enjoy a long 15 book series, or just sink into one of the trilogies for a shorter time commitment. There are a few boxed sets and free “first in trilogy” options so it won’t cost too much to spend many days (and nights!) in Barefoot Bay. And there will be more next year!
Want to know the day the next Barefoot Bay book is released?
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Books Set in Barefoot Bay
The Barefoot Bay Billionaires
Secrets on the Sand
Seduction on the Sand
Scandal on the Sand
The Barefoot Bay Brides
Barefoot in White
Barefoot in Lace
Barefoot in Pearls
Barefoot Bay Undercover
Barefoot Bound (prequel)
Barefoot with a Bodyguard
Barefoot with a Stranger
Barefoot with a Bad Boy
Barefoot Bay Timeless
Barefoot at Sunset
Barefoot at Moonrise
Barefoot at Midnight
The Original Barefoot Bay Quartet
Barefoot in the Sand
Barefoot
in the Rain
Barefoot in the Sun
Barefoot by the Sea
Acknowledgments
As always, there’s a team of professionals carrying me along from Chapter One to The End. Most especially, forever love and gratitude to Kristi Yanta, the Picky Editor who helps me to dig for emotional gold on every page. In addition, many thanks to keen-eyed copy editor Joyce Lamb, super-sharp proofreader Marlene Engel, super-talented (patient and determined) cover artist Kim Killion, and the world’s most dependable formatter, Amy Atwell. Behind the scenes, amazing assistant Maria Connor keeps me sane. Extra love to the Rocki Roadies, the Roxanne St. Claire Street Team. (Want to join? We’re on Facebook and have tons of fun.)
About the Author
Published since 2003, Roxanne St. Claire is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than forty romance and suspense novels. She has written several popular series, including Barefoot Bay, the Guardian Angelinos, and the Bullet Catchers.
In addition to being an eight-time nominee and one-time winner of the prestigious RITA™ Award for the best in romance writing, Roxanne’s novels have won the National Reader’s Choice Award for best romantic suspense three times, as well as the Maggie, the Daphne du Maurier Award, the HOLT Medallion, Booksellers Best, Book Buyers Best, the Award of Excellence, and many others.
Barefoot at Sunset (Barefoot Bay Timeless Book 1) Page 25
