by Zoe York
“Yes, really.” He pulled the ring out of his pocket and took her hand in his, holding the ring between the palms. Letting her feel it before she saw it. Settling her into the idea of becoming his wife. “Are you surprised?”
Her smile was tremulous, but wide. Shaky but bright. She shook her head. “No. And yes. I thought maybe…in the summer. But this is good. You should keep going with this.” She grinned harder now, and her eyelashes glistened. Girls and their tears.
He bowed his head and pressed his lips to her hand, resting on top of his. “Last week I took Eric to Greta’s. That day when I picked him up from school and we came back with muffins? We sat and had some apple pie then.”
“That’s why he wasn’t hungry for dinner,” she whispered.
“It was worth it, I promise.”
“Okay,” she breathed.
“We talked about you and me, and me and him, and you and him. We talked about a lot of things, and we agreed that we’re already a family, but it would be real nice if that was official. If some time maybe in the spring or summer, we could put on clothes that aren’t sweatpants and invite our friends and family to watch us make some promises to each other.”
“Like what?” The tears were falling freely now. He’d anticipated this, because his Faith was a crier. She was tough as nails, but there wasn’t a bone in her body that didn’t feel, big time. He grabbed the tissue box from the counter and passed it over before continuing.
“I promise to love you forever. To take care of our family and protect it to the best of my ability. To bring you coffee in the morning and rub your feet late at night.”
“Those sound good.”
He kissed her hand again. “I’ll do those things anyway, you know. But I would be honoured—no, that’s not strong enough. It would make me the proudest man on the planet to marry you, Faith Davidson. To wrap you in my arms and kiss you in front of the world, and say, this is my wife. She’s the other half of my soul and the mother of my children.”
“Children?”
“Eric said something about brothers. It wasn’t super clear, he had a mouthful of pie.”
“Oh, wow.” She bit her lip and sniffled again.
“Is that oh, wow, yes, or oh, wow, you’ll need to try harder to convince me?”
She laughed and tugged her hand free, curving her fingers around his hand, revealing the ring in the centre of his palm. He was pretty proud of it. One big-ass diamond in the middle, surrounded by a circle of tiny diamonds, one of which had been replaced with an opal, Eric’s birth month gemstone. “That’s an oh, wow, yes, you beautiful man.”
He hopped to his feet and slid the ring onto her left hand before picking her up and sitting her on the kitchen counter. “My fiancée. I like the sound of that.”
“If I finish this book today, maybe we could find a sitter for Eric tonight and go out for dinner to celebrate.” She kissed the corner of his mouth and wrapped her legs around his waist. He liked the way she thought, but he knew better.
“Babe, you’re not finishing that book until at least Monday, according to the Rules of Miriam.”
“Rules?”
“She says you will say that a book is almost done at least five days in a row before it’s actually done.”
Faith groaned and dropped her head to his shoulder. “Crap. That does sound like me. Love me anyway?”
There was no anyway about it. He cupped her face and hovered his mouth over hers. “Love you because of that, my genius bride. Never doubt that for a second.”
— EPILOGUE —
WHEN Canada Day dawned, hot and muggy already because summer had decided to come early to the peninsula, Faith woke up in a rare state—alone in bed.
Zander had left a note, however. Gone kayaking before it gets too hot. You’re cute when you refuse to wake up.
She hadn’t even noticed he’d left. A familiar nervous wiggle teased in her gut, but she just pressed a hand there and told herself to get over it. Kayaking was pretty benign as far as water sports went, and Zander would be wearing a life jacket. She closed her eyes and had a weak laugh at her own expense. Man, she was a spoilsport.
Getting out of bed, she yawned, then peered out the window. No sign of him in the harbour, and his truck was in the drive, so he hadn’t gone very far. Maybe he’d paddled around the tip of the peninsula to the Georgian Bay side.
She’d put on coffee and get breakfast ready for when he returned.
As she opened her bedroom door, Eric called out. “Morning, Mom.”
She stopped in his doorway. He’d had a growth spurt over the spring and now looked big for five-and-a-half. “When did you grow up?”
He grinned at her and rolled onto his side, his Transformers pyjamas riding up his skinny middle. Not that grown up, maybe. “While I was sleeping.”
“Happy Canada Day. Want strawberries for breakfast?”
“Yeah!” He leapt out of bed with an enthusiasm he must have learned from Zander, because he didn’t get it from her. Or maybe it was genetic. Greg had been a morning person.
She reached and pulled him in for a hug as he tried to sprint past her. “Hang on, mister.”
“What?” He hugged her back, hurriedly.
“You just looked like your dad a lot there.” She leaned over and kissed his head. “He’d be so proud of you.”
This time his smile was gentler. They didn’t talk about Greg enough. Eric didn’t remember him, and Zander was the only father her son would ever know. But he knew that she got a little sad every time they talked about it, and even though he was only five, he was pretty in tune with her feelings—more so than ever after his disappearing adventure.
“Okay, strawberries.”
“And whipped cream,” Eric suggested, eyes gleaming.
“Nope. Yogurt.”
“Boo.”
“Zander’s favourite.”
“Yay!”
She laughed. This part was easy, at least.
In the kitchen, she washed and sliced strawberries they’d picked the day before. They went into a bowl on the counter. Another bowl held a nut and seed granola that Zander loved, and beside that she put the tub of plain yogurt. A red and white breakfast for their national holiday. Fitting for her now retired soldier, who after the summer holidays was starting a new career as a private security consultant.
A fancy word for bodyguard, she teased him, but in the next breath she always told him how proud she was.
A quick double knock at the front door was the only warning they got before her mother sailed in. “Morning, everyone!”
“Hi, Mom.”
Miriam had moved out in June, to a small house that backed onto the golf course just outside of town. At some point when Faith hadn’t been paying attention, her quiet, hippie mother had taken up the yuppiest of all the yuppy sports and apparently loved it.
They didn’t talk about how her moving to her own house allowed them both to have more…active…social lives. There were some conversations mothers and daughters didn’t need to have in detail.
“Grandma!” Eric ran to the front hall and dragged her back to the kitchen. “We’re having strawberries for breakfast.”
“Very appropriate. Listen, sweet pea, I was wondering if you wanted to come with me to the Teddy Bear Picnic at the park before you go to the barbeque in Pine Harbour?”
Faith looked up in surprise. “Aren’t you coming with us this afternoon?”
Miriam blushed. “Bill asked me to watch the fireworks here with him.”
Ah. Faith grinned. “Got it.”
“Grandma, come upstairs and help me choose which bear to take,” Eric said, tugging again on her arm.
Faith opened her mouth to remind him of his manners, but the duo was already skipping away.
A gentle thump against the side of the house told her Zander was back. She slid the screen door open and happily took in an eyeful. He was wearing board shorts and nothing else. They rode low on his hips and clung to his thighs,
and she was suddenly very thankful for the Teddy Bear picnic.
“Good morning,” she murmured, smiling as he glanced up and met her interested stare with a heated one of his own.
He grinned and prowled toward her, pulling her tight against him even as she mock-shrieked about him being all wet.
“Getting you wet is my daily mission, babe.”
“My mom is here.”
He groaned. “Okay.”
“And she’s taking Eric out in a bit.”
And the grin was back.
“You know, that smile is killer.”
He winked at her. “Took you long enough to notice.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.” He kissed her cheek. “Coffee on?”
“Yep.”
She watched him, little glances here and there as they ate breakfast. Counted her blessings as he stretched out on the couch and read a book with Eric before her son—their son—headed out with a stuffed animal friend for a holiday picnic.
And when she finally climbed into Zander’s lap, she decided it was her turn to make a proposition.
“I have a secret,” she whispered as he palmed her ass.
“Are you pregnant?” he asked, nuzzling her neck.
“Not yet.” They’d only been trying for a few months. “But it’s kind of related.”
“Yeah?” He wasn’t listening. He had his hands up her shirt and had his hands full of her breasts. She almost gave up the conversation when his thumbs rolled over her nipples.
She forced herself to concentrate. “I want to get married.”
“We are getting married.”
“Next week.”
His thumbs skittered off her nipples, sending a last jolt of desire down her spine as he sat up a little straighter and dropped his hands to her hips. “Wait, back up. I’m paying attention now.”
“I know we’ve put a couple of deposits down…”
He shook his head. “The way my siblings are dropping like flies, I’m sure Tom will be able to use our wedding date if we need him to.” His keen brown gaze, suddenly serious, searched her face. “You want to get married soon?”
She nodded. “I went to see the lawyer yesterday, about a literary trust for Eric, and I mentioned that you want to formally adopt him. He said it would be easier once we’re married.”
“Ah.” He brought one hand up to her face, brushing her cheek with his knuckles before settling his palm at the nape of her neck. “I don’t want you to sacrifice the wedding you want just for that.”
She shook her head. “It wouldn’t be any kind of sacrifice. What I want is to be your wife. I want you to be Eric’s father, officially. I want that…tomorrow. No more waiting.”
“Thank God.” Now he leaned in and kissed her lips. “Yes, let’s do that. Tomorrow.”
“Should we tell anyone? Your mother—”
“—Is getting another grandkid out of the deal.”
“My mother?”
“Won’t mind a bit…and we’ll work on getting her another grandkid, too.” He winked at her as she coloured. “Faith, I’m going to be thirty-eight this year. I’m two decades past the point of needing my parents around for major life decisions. We don’t need to tell anyone, we can even keep the big fancy wedding date if you want to have the party again, but I don’t want to wait another day to make it official that you two are my family. My world. I want to adopt Eric. I want to call you my wife. I want to be your rock, no doubt about it.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “You already are.”
— —
Five hours later, Zander watched Faith saunter away from him at the Pine Harbour Canada Day Barbeque. She’d just given him a hug and whispered another idea in his ear for celebrating their impending elopement.
She was enjoying this way too much.
So was he.
Maybe he could convince her to wear those cut-off jean shorts to the courthouse.
The next set of arms to wrap around his neck belonged to the other love of his life—his kid. He swung his head out of the way just in time as Eric’s heavy little noggin came careening in to ask for something. “Can I have ice cream?”
He laughed. “Did your mom say no?”
Hesitation gave all the answer they both needed. “Maybe.”
Zander set his beer on the ground. He reached over his head and hauled the boisterous five-year-old onto his lap. The camp chair he was sitting on creaked in protest, but he braced his feet on the ground. He tickled Eric until the boy shrieked that he was sorry, then he pulled him in close for a hug. “Don’t play me, bud.”
“Sorry.”
“There’s watermelon?”
“Okay.”
“Let’s go get some together.”
As soon as Zander stood up, Eric wiggled his legs and reached for the ground and was off, sprinting toward the food tables. He followed slowly, watching his boy run. Maybe they should start doing some trail running in the fall, start prepping him for cross-country. He had a natural athleticism that Zander wanted to foster, but only in ways that Faith would be okay with—nothing too dangerous.
He did a slow circle, looking for her, once they got their fruit. He found her talking to Olivia Minelli—and in Faith’s arms was Olivia’s seven-month-old daughter, Sophia. The baby kept grabbing at the loose strands of Faith’s hair, tumbling out of her ponytail as usual, and Faith just leaned in, pressing absent-minded kisses to the baby’s forehead, letting the kid play all she wanted.
Eric bumped into his leg, and Zander dropped his hand to the boy’s shoulder. Hopefully soon she’d have a baby of their own, a little brother or sister for Eric, in her arms.
“Zander?” He glanced over his shoulder and found Hope Creswell smiling at him. “Could I have a minute?”
He pointed Eric toward his mom and nodded at Hope. “Of course.”
“It’s a professional inquiry, and I know it’s a holiday, but…”
“Nah, it’s fine. Shoot.”
She gave him a nervous smile. “It’s a bit of a long story, but the short version is I need a security team that I know I can trust. It’s not for me, exactly, but I’ve got a little problem.”
“Okay.” He shrugged. “We’re not officially open for business yet, but I can certainly help you out. What’s the issue?”
“Not what. Who.” She screwed up her face, then let out a frustrated sigh. “My best friend in the entire world is hiding at my house right now. She showed up three days ago and swore me to secrecy, so I’m letting her hang there, because that’s what best friends do. She’s like a sister to me.”
“Sounds about right. Got any idea why she’s hiding?”
She shook her head. “No. But her manager called me, looking for her. She’s got a show in Washington, D.C. in three days, and I don’t think she plans to be there.”
Three days after Canada Day was Independence Day in the United States. “A show?”
“She’s a singer.”
“Who happens to be performing in the nation’s capital city on July 4th?”
“Yeah.” She gave him an innocent, no-big-deal look.
“Hope…” He sank his teeth into his upper lip. He was going to need to work on this angle of the business, for sure. “Are you asking me to help force a superstar onto a plane and get her ass to a nationally televised concert?”
She smiled brightly, like she was relieved that he got it. “As a matter of fact, I am.”
And so it begins. He took a deep breath and searched the crowd for Dean. He found his best friend sitting in the bed of a pick-up truck, talking to Rafe. “Well, I’m otherwise engaged tomorrow, but I think I’ve got the man for the job.”
THE END
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Want more Pine Harbour? Turn the page for a sneak peek at Dean’s book!
THE PINE HARBOUR SERIES
Love in a Small Town - Rafe & Olivia’s story
Love in a Snow Storm - Jake & Dani’s story
Love on a Spring Morning - Ryan & Holly’s story
Love on a Summer Night - Zander & Faith’s story
Love on the Run - Dean & Liana’s story (coming soon!)
COMING SOON:
LOVE ON
— THE RUN —
PINE HARBOUR #5
Bodyguard. [Noun]
A person hired to escort and protect another person. Escort and protect. Definitely no flirting, kissing, or testing the bounds of third base.
Dean Foster has nearly two decades experience being calm, cool, and collected. His first gig in his new private security contractor role should be more of the same, but Nashville superstar Liana Hansen blows all that out of the water in one breathy hello.
Liana doesn’t want the straight-laced cop to shadow her everywhere she goes. Not if he insists on keeping his clothes on. Even worse, he stops her from sneaking out of every hotel they stay in on her concert tour.
With only a dozen stops left in the tour, one of them is going to have to bend. Or the other is going to wind up breaking something.
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THE PINE HARBOUR SERIES
Love in a Small Town
Love in a Snow Storm
Love on a Spring Morning
Love on a Summer Night
Love on the Run (expected May 2016)
— ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS —
As all my books have been lately, I have to start by thanking my fellow writers in Chatzy, because not only did I plough through the first draft of this book in chat, but then I revised it significantly there as well. They got a lot of Zander and Faith. And especially the parts about Faith as a writer—she isn’t me, but she is an amalgam of the beautiful women that I have the joy to write with day in, day out. This book isn’t particularly autobiographical, I promise, except for maybe the online debates when Faith should have been writing. I recognize myself in that!
