“Are you sure about that?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe you should look.”
Maggie frowned, wondering what he was talking about. She could sense the people who had been in line behind her getting restless. Couldn’t she read it later? She didn’t want anyone to get upset with her for taking longer than she should.
She lowered her gaze and glanced at the jersey, looked back at Dillon, then did a double-take. She squeezed her eyes shut, opened them, looked again…and felt her knees nearly buckle. No, not nearly. They did buckle; she would have fallen if not for Dillon’s strong arm wrapping around her waist, supporting her.
She wiped at her eyes and looked back at the jersey, sure she was imagining things. She wasn’t.
Written in big bold letters were the words I LOVE YOU.
I LOVE YOU.
Dillon loved her?
“Well?” His voice was pitched low, thick and hoarse and full of uncertainty, his breath tickling her ear and warming her. No, it wasn’t his breath that warmed her. It was him. What he felt for her. What she felt for him.
She blinked and looked up at him, her hands trembling as she pulled the jersey against her chest. Against her heart. “I love you, too.”
He smiled and pulled her against him. And right there, in front of everyone, he lifted her up and kissed her. A deep kiss that promised a future full of hope. Full of adventure and trust.
Full of love.
Epilogue
One year later
Dillon hurried to his seat, mumbling apologies as he bumped into knees along the way. Why did the seat have to be right in the middle of the row?
It didn’t matter. He was here now, that was what mattered.
That, and surprising Maggie on her big day. She wasn’t expecting him, had actually told him it wasn’t a big deal, that she understood. Yes, he knew she understood—and it was a big deal. She was graduating. Of course it was a big deal.
And now he could be here for her, just like she had been there for him when he walked across the stage last year. Only this year, they could at least celebrate the entire night. Last year, he’d had to leave damn near right after receiving his diploma. This year, he didn’t have to leave until the morning, when he flew to LA.
He came to a stop in front of the empty seat and lowered himself into it with a heavy sigh. The woman next to him glanced at her watch then turned toward him, not quite frowning.
“Cutting it a little close there, aren’t you?”
Dillon leaned forward and brushed a quick kiss across her cheek. “Hi, Mom. Sorry. Everything got delayed.”
She patted his knee and passed him a fancy program. “You’re here. That’s what matters.”
Dillon shifted in the seat, getting more comfortable, then nodded toward his father. “She doesn’t know, does she?”
“No, she doesn’t know. She thinks you left this morning with the team.”
“Good. Is everything set at the house?”
“Yes, sweetheart. I told you I would take care of everything. Now relax. They’ll be calling her name soon.”
Dillon tried to relax. He trusted his mother, knew he had been smart to leave everything in her capable hands. That didn’t mean he wasn’t nervous. He wanted everything to be perfect, wanted to make sure Maggie had the special celebration she deserved.
His mother leaned closer, a bright smile on her face. “There she is, sweetheart, up by the stage. Do you see her?”
Dillon searched the sea of black robes, his eyes finally resting on Maggie as she approached the stage. His heart tripped in his chest, beating faster as he watched her. She was so beautiful. And stubborn. And determined.
And he didn’t want her any other way.
He heard the clicking of a camera and knew his father was taking pictures with his fancy camera, the one with the super-zoom lens. Good, because Dillon didn’t want to look away.
Maggie climbed the stairs, two more people ahead of her. Then it was her turn. She walked across the stage, head held high, a smile on her face as they announced her name.
Margaret Elizabeth Frayser.
Dillon rose to his feet, clapping and cheering as loud as he could for his wife. His wife. He still couldn’t believe she had agreed to marry him, to take his name. He had proposed right after receiving his diploma and they had been married a few months later. Some people thought it was too soon—her mother, mostly—but he didn’t care. He loved Maggie, and she loved him. That was all that mattered.
His mother grabbed his hand and yanked, pulling him down. “I thought you wanted to surprise her.”
“I do. She didn’t see me.”
His mom rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything, And then Dillon got restless, waiting for everyone else’s name to be called. He didn’t want to wait. He wanted to rush down to the front and grab hold of his wife and carry her home.
Only he couldn’t really do that, either. Number one, she’d probably get a little irritated. Number two, it would be rude. And number three, they had a house full of people waiting back at the house for her surprise party.
Now that he thought about it, maybe he should have waited for the party…
Applause exploded around him then the crowd shifted, almost moving as one to their feet. Finally. Now he had to figure out how to get to Maggie without her seeing him.
His mom helped with that. She and his dad moved through the crowd, down to where Maggie and her parents were. Dillon hung back, drifting through the thinning crowd until he was behind Maggie. His mom kept her occupied, talking about who knew what, a silly grin on her face.
And why was his mother grinning like that? She’d give the surprise away if she wasn’t careful. Even his dad was grinning. If they spoiled his surprise, he’d never forgive them.
He moved closer, his steps a little faster just in case Maggie suspected something. She still had her back to him and he was less than a foot away. Good, she didn’t suspect anything.
He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her against his chest. Her body stiffened for a brief second then she spun in his arms, squealing.
“Dillon! Ohmygod, you’re here! I can’t believe it. How—”
He cut her off with a kiss, deep and warm. “I got permission to fly out later. I wanted to surprise you.”
“Ohmygod, I can’t believe it!” She wrapped her arms around him and held him close, her breath warm against his neck. Her shoulders shook and for a minute he thought she was so happy, she was laughing. Then he heard her breath catch and realized she wasn’t laughing.
She was crying.
He stepped back, frowning, trying to figure out why she would be crying. “Maggie? Are you okay?”
She nodded and wiped the back of her hand across her eyes. “Y-yes.”
“Then why are you crying?”
“Because I’m h-happy.”
“Uh, okay.” Dillon frowned and glanced over at his mom, hoping for some silent advice. But his mom was just standing there, leaning against his dad, that silly grin still on her face.
He looked back at Maggie, his heart tripping in his chest when she started sniffling again. “Maggie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to surprise you.”
“I’m not upset.”
“But you’re crying. You never cry.”
“I know.”
“Oh.” He looked around, wondering why everyone was watching them. Dillon frowned and wrapped his hand around hers, pulling her away from their parents so they could have some privacy.
“Are you sure everything’s okay?”
“Positive. Especially now that you’re here.”
“Oh. Okay. Good.” Dillon tightened his hand around hers, still not sure what he was missing. “So. It’s a good surprise?”
Maggie nodded and wiped her eyes again. “Yes. And I have one for you, too. I was going to wait but…I can’t.”
“You have a surprise for me? But this is your spe
cial day. You don’t have to do anything for me.”
“Yes I do.”
“No you don’t, it can wait. I want today to be all about you.”
“It is. But it’s about you, too. About us.” She squeezed his hand and moved it between them.
“Oh. Okay.” His gaze darted to their parents then back to Maggie. She kept watching him, her eyes wide and bright, her hand tight over his where it rested against her stomach.
He opened his mouth, ready to ask what she was doing, what surprise she was talking about.
His mouth snapped shut.
He looked at her, stepped back, looked down at their clasped hands.
Pressed against her stomach.
Her stomach.
The edges of his vision darkened and the world spun around him, tilting at a crazy angle. He blinked and stumbled forward, caught himself at the last minute. Blinked again as everything clicked into place.
A perfect, happy place.
“Really? You are? You’re pregnant?”
Maggie nodded, her eyes shining with moisture again as a smile played around the edges of her trembling mouth. “I am. Are you happy?”
“Happy? Happy?” He picked her up and swung her around, laughing as warmth spread through him. “I’m ecstatic!”
He pulled her to him and claimed her mouth with his, every emotion he was feeling encompassed in that one deep kiss.
Hope. Laughter. Trust. Joy. Promise.
And a lifetime of love. Most of all, love.
*****
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PLAYING THE GAME
The York Bombers Book 1
Harland Day knows what it’s like to be on rock bottom: he was there once before, years ago when his mother walked out and left him behind. But he learned how to play the game and survived, crawling his way up with the help of a friend-turned-lover. This time is different: he has nobody to blame but himself for his trip to the bottom. His mouth, his attitude, his crappy play that landed him back in the minors instead of playing pro hockey with the Baltimore Banners. And this time, he doesn’t have anyone to help him out, not when his own selfishness killed the most important relationship he ever had.
Courtney Williams’ life isn’t glamorous or full of fame and fortune but she doesn’t need those things to be happy. She of all people knows there are more important things in life. And, for the most part, she’s been able to forget what could have been—until Harland gets reassigned to the York Bombers and shows back up in town, full of attitude designed to hide the man underneath. But the arrogant hockey player can’t hide from her, the one person who knows him better than anyone else. They had been friends. They had been lovers. And then they had been torn apart by misunderstanding and betrayal.
But some ties are hard to break. Can they look past what had been and move forward to what could be? Or will the sins of the past haunt them even now, all these years later?
PLAYING THE GAME, the launch title of a brand-new hockey series, The York Bombers. Available February, 2017.
ONCE BURNED
Firehouse Fourteen Book 1
Michaela Donaldson had her whole life planned out: college, music, and a happy-ever-after with her first true love. One reckless night changed all that, setting Michaela on a new path. Gone are her dreams of pursuing music in college, replaced by what she thinks is a more rewarding life. She’s a firefighter now, getting down and dirty while doing her job. So what if she’s a little rough around the edges, a little too careless, a little too detached? She’s happy, living life on her own terms—until Nicky Lansing shows back up.
Nick Lansing was the stereotypical leather-clad bad boy, needing nothing but his fast car, his guitar, his never-ending partying, and his long-time girlfriend—until one bad decision changed the course of two lives forever. He’s on the straight-and-narrow now, living life as a respected teacher and doing his best to be a positive role model. Yes, he still has his music. But gone are his days of partying. And gone is the one girl who always held his heart. Or is she?
One freak accident brings these two opposites back together. Is ten years long enough to heal the physical and emotional wounds from the past? Can they reconcile who they were with who they’ve become—or will it be a case of Once Burned is enough?
Turn the page for an exciting peek at ONCE BURNED, available now.
“Oh shit,” Mike repeated under her breath, too horrified to do anything more than force herself to breathe. Not an easy task, considering she was literally frozen to the spot. The air was thick with heated tension and the buzzing in her ears made it impossible for her to hear anything. She willed herself to move, to do something.
Shit, it’s Nicky. Shit, it’s Nicky. The phrase kept spinning through her mind until she thought she’d be sick with the dizziness of it. Her chest heaved with the effort to breathe and her pulse beat in a tap dancer’s rhythm.
Did anyone else notice the sudden change in the room? Mike forced herself to look away from that face from her past and quickly glanced around. Four sets of eyes fixed on her with varying degrees of bewilderment. She could still feel his eyes on her, too, filled with stunned disbelief.
Feeling like she was trapped in a nightmare where everything moved with the speed of molasses, Mike pushed away from the counter and walked across the room, straight past the frozen figure of Nicky Lansing and through the swinging door. She turned a corner and rushed through a second door that opened into the engine room, not stopping until she reached the engine on the far side, where she promptly collapsed on the back step.
Heedless of the dirt and grime, she let her head drop against the back compartment door, ignoring the length of hose line in her way. Her breathing came in shallow gasps that did nothing to help the lightheadedness that caused black dots to dance across her closed lids.
Hyperventilating. She was hyperventilating. The calm, rational part of her—she was surprised she still had one—told her to lean forward, to get a grip on herself and her breathing. Now bent over, sitting with her head between her knees, Mike grabbed the running board with both hands and concentrated on the feel of the diamond plate cutting into her palms.
The spots faded away and her breathing slowed to something closer to normal. One last deep breath and she straightened, only to choke on a scream when she came face-to-face with Jay, his brows lowered in a frown as he studied her with concern.
“Jesus! Don’t scare me like that!” She pushed him away then stood, only to sit back down when she realized how bad her knees were shaking.
“Scare you? What is wrong with you? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I couldn’t be better! Don’t I look fine?”
“You look like you’re ready to pass out. What the hell is going on? Do you know that guy? He looks like he’s seen a ghost!”
“He probably thinks he has.” Mike moved over and motioned for Jay to sit down, ignoring his scrutiny as he twisted sideways and continued staring at her.
“Are you going to explain that?”
“No.” She ran her hands through her hair, muttering when she pulled a thick hank of it loose from the pony tail. Sighing, she reached back and pulled the elastic band loose, then quickly rearranged her hair into a more secure hold. Jay watched her intently then nudged her leg with his when she continued to ignore him.
“Well?”
“Well nothing. He’s just somebody I used to know, that’s all.”
Jay snorted. “Bull.”
“Okay, fine,” she conceded grudgingly. “He’s also somebody I never wanted to see again.
” Mike reached down and gingerly touched her right side, trying not to remember but unable to forget. If Jay noticed the motion, he didn’t say anything.
They sat in silence, the familiar background noises of the station virtually unnoticed. A few minutes went by before Jay spoke again. “You sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
Mike shook her head, ready to make a sarcastic reply when the sound of footsteps echoed through the engine room. The steps paused, then changed directions and hesitantly walked around the side of the engine. Mike knew without looking who it was: the steps were those of a stranger, someone who didn’t know his way around.
Nicky stopped at the back of the engine, not saying anything as Jay slowly stood and positioned himself slightly in front of Mike, shielding her. She touched his arm briefly, in a gesture both of thanks and of reassurance that she was alright. Jay looked back at her, one brow cocked in question, then reluctantly walked away at her nod. Mike didn’t see where he went but knew that he would be close by in case he was needed.
She stood slightly, leaning against the running board, then crossed her arms in front of her, covering the jagged scar that ran along her left forearm. The stance was as close to aloof and detached as she could manage considering her insides were making a milkshake of her early dinner. Too late, she remembered the sunglasses hanging around her neck and wished she would have thought to put them on to hide any emotion in her eyes.
With an effort that took more strength than she wanted to admit, she let her eyes slowly, coolly rake the man in front of her from top to bottom.
Dammit. The Nicky Lansing from her past had been ruggedly handsome with dark looks and boyish charm; this Nick Lansing was dangerously gorgeous. A little taller than she remembered, he stood just over six feet, and was definitely broader through the shoulders and chest. The boy she remembered had finally filled out, to all the best advantages.
The long hair of his past was gone, cut to a length that brushed just past the collar of the light blue shirt he wore. Still too long to be squeaky clean, but short enough by today’s standards to be rated as acceptable. His eyes were the same, though. A dark chocolate brown framed in long lashes, they invited a person to swim in their depths and lose their soul without a second thought.
One-Timer (The Baltimore Banners Book 9) Page 19
