The Last Man She Expected

by Michelle Major

  Parker had explained to Mara’s ex-husband that he had no plans to usurp Paul’s role in his daughter’s life but would love Evie with his entire heart. After so many years of keeping his emotions walled off, it felt good to allow himself to love unconditionally. He’d been missing out on so damn much in life, but thanks to Mara his future was brighter than he could have imagined.

  His breath caught in his throat as her gaze locked with his. She wore a cream-colored dress made of lace and satin. It had a scoop neck and long sleeves and was fitted to her curves until flaring out just below her waist. Her hair was pulled back into a low knot, a few dark tendrils curling against her neck.

  Parker blinked as tears sprang to the backs of his eyes, which didn’t make any sense because Parker Johnson didn’t cry. But the happiness bursting through him wouldn’t be contained.

  He swiped at his cheeks and tried not to lose it completely.

  “It’s okay,” Josh whispered at his side, and Parker realized it was more than okay. The profound sense that he was doing the exact right thing filled him with more joy than he’d ever experienced.

  Rudy Marshall, who was officiating the ceremony, shoved a tissue into his hand.

  As Mara drew closer, Parker reached out and laced his fingers with Mara’s then tried to give her the tissue with his other hand.

  Her smile gentled. “Um... I think that’s for you.” She took it from him and dabbed at his cheeks, and that’s when Parker realized he was all but bawling in front of their friends and family. He could have cared less.

  “I love you,” he told her and pressed his lips to hers.

  Rudy cleared his throat, and Mara pulled away with a laugh.

  “Perhaps we could make it through the vows before any more kissing?” the older attorney asked, one heavy brow raised.

  Parker nodded, worried that if he tried to say more he might totally lose his composure. His emotion seemed to set off a chain reaction. By the time he and Mara made it through the vows, which they’d written for each other, there wasn’t a dry eye in the backyard other than Evie and Anna, who couldn’t quite figure out why all the adults were crying.

  But Parker knew that everything was okay because all the mistakes he’d made in his life—and there had been plenty—led him to this woman and this moment. And it was perfect.

  * * *

  “For the rest of my life,” Mara said to Brynn and Kaitlin as she held up her champagne glass for another toast an hour later, “I’m going to look at my wedding photos and everyone is going to have puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.”

  “All you’ll remember is the happiness,” Brynn said gently, and Mara couldn’t help but wrap her new friend in a tight hug.

  “I’m sorry if this is hard for you.”

  Brynn immediately pulled back, shaking her head. “I’m so happy for you and Parker. You deserve the love you’ve found with each other.”

  “You deserve love, too,” Kaitlin said, draining her glass. “I’m not going to speak ill of the dead, but your late husband was a royal ass.”

  Brynn stifled a giggle, and Mara shook her head. “Honey, I think you just did speak ill of him.”

  “Not half as bad as what I was thinking,” Kaitlin countered.

  “I have Tyler,” Brynn told them, glancing over to where her son danced with Evie and Anna. “Being a mom is enough for me. I can live vicariously through you two in the romance department.”

  Mara shook her head. “We’re definitely finding you a boyfriend. As soon as I return from my honeymoon it’s the top priority.”

  “Who’s on top?” Parker came up behind Mara, bending forward to place a quick kiss on her cheek. “Because I’m not picky.”

  “TMI.” Brynn made a show of covering her ears with her palms. “For real.”

  Finn and Nick joined their table, and Mara couldn’t help but notice that Brynn’s shoulders stiffened slightly as Nick sat down next to her. All three men wore black tuxes. Although the wedding was small, Parker had insisted they go formal on the attire. Mara knew that part of that was the pleasure he took from making his friends put on the “monkey suits” as they called them, but she didn’t care about the reason. Parker looked so handsome in his black tux with the crisp white shirt it almost took her breath away.

  “We’re going to find a boyfriend for Brynn,” Kaitlin told the three friends. “We’ve been talking about it since the summer, but now it’s happening.”

  “After the honeymoon,” Mara told Parker when he let out a small groan. “You are my priority for the next ten days.”

  “I’ve given up on love,” Brynn said softly. “No dating apps necessary. Some of us aren’t meant for it.”

  “Amen, sister. Love is for suckers.” Nick held up his hand for a high five but instead of giving him one, Brynn pushed back from the table.

  “I’m going to dance with the kids,” she said then walked away.

  “Damn,” Parker murmured. “She left you hanging hard, Nicky.”

  “Which you deserve,” Finn added. “Since you just called us suckers.”

  “I was trying to help.” Nick ran a hand through his hair and grabbed Brynn’s half-full champagne glass, then drained it in one gulp.

  Despite the fact that he’d shoved his own foot into his mouth, Mara felt a sharp pang of sympathy for the police chief. It was obvious he cared about Brynn, but between their past and her grief and anger over Daniel’s death, Nick obviously didn’t know how to bridge the distance between them.

  “She should have another chance at happiness,” Finn told him. “If anyone deserves—”

  “I know what Brynn deserves,” Nick interrupted and the naked longing in his eyes when he glanced toward the dance floor shocked Mara. She’d been so wrapped up in her own life that she hadn’t looked closely enough at the police chief’s feelings for his old friend. “I can tell you there isn’t one man around here who’s good enough for her.”

  Mara reached out and squeezed his hand. “There must be someone.”

  He met her gaze and quickly shuttered the vulnerability from his own. “Can I get anyone a drink?” he asked, straightening.

  “Nothing for me,” Parker said as he tugged Mara up from her chair. “But I would like a dance with my beautiful wife.”

  Mara followed him into the backyard, where the rental company had set up a temporary dance floor. As if on cue, the up-tempo song ended and a sweet country ballad began. The kids shouted protests at the slower music and ran toward the bounce house while Kaitlin and Finn joined them on the dance floor.

  “Nick likes Brynn,” Mara said as Parker wrapped his arms around her and they began to sway.

  “We all love Brynn,” he answered, a small frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. “She was like a sister to Nick back in high school. By the time he realized he felt more for her, it was too late.”

  “But it’s not too late.”

  “You aren’t going to set up Brynn and Nick.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m feeling as hopeful about love as a guy can get and even I know that ship has sailed.”

  “What if the ship came back to port?” She scrunched up her nose. “Ships do that, you know.”

  “I don’t want to talk about our friends at the moment.” His hands slid along her back, drawing her closer until the lace of her gown brushed against his tux.

  “Shall we talk about how I have the most handsome husband in all the world?” She smiled when his cheeks flushed with color. “And how much I love that he cries and blushes?”

  Parker let out a soft chuckle. “It’s like you ripped the man card right out of my hands.”

  “You’re the best man I know,” she assured him. “I love you, Parker Johnson.”

  “I love you, Mara Johnson.”

  With a contented sigh, she rested her cheek against his cheek, knowing with her whole
heart that the love between them would last the rest of their lives.

  * * *

  Don’t miss the next book in the Welcome to Starlight miniseries, His Last-Chance Christmas Family, available December 2020 from Harlequin Special Edition!

  After finally accepting that she has two brand-new half sisters, Carrie Reed is trying to move forward with her life—until her ex-sweetheart returns to town just in time for Christmas.

  Read on for a sneak preview of The Merriest Magnolia, the next book in Michelle Major’s Magnolia Sisters series!

  The Merriest Magnolia

  by Michelle Major

  Chapter One

  SHE WAS BEING followed.

  Although it was nearing midnight, Carrie Reed shouldn’t feel nervous walking home on a late November night. She’d lived in the quaint town of Magnolia, North Carolina, her entire life and knew most of its residents by name. The ones she hadn’t met likely knew of her thanks to her father, the famous artist Niall Reed, and the drama that had unfolded after his death four months ago.

  Pausing before taking the turn onto the street where she lived, Carrie squinted into the darkness, searching for movement outside the branches of a nearby white pine rustling in the cool breeze.

  She’d left her downtown art studio without much thought to the late hour. Tonight she’d taught a paint-and-sip class at The Reed Gallery to a boisterous bunco group made up of some of Magnolia’s most respected mavens. It had been an eye-opener for Carrie.

  A few glasses of sangria and the women had enthusiastically painted the personalized ornament scene she’d created for them. As they’d worked, those “Bunco Babes,” as they’d named themselves, had talked about everything from grandkids to menopause to keeping their love lives spicy after decades of marriage or, in several cases, a midlife divorce.

  Carrie’s relationship with her mother was strained on a good day and she’d been raised an only child, so she didn’t have a lot of experience with that kind of fervid honesty in her relationships with women. Up until her father’s will revealed two half sisters from his years of philandering, Carrie hadn’t even had close friends. She’d devoted the bulk of her adult life—and a good bit of her childhood if she were totally honest—to taking care of her temperamental father.

  Her life transformed, almost completely for the better, thanks to her sisters. But secretly Carrie feared the changes were happening to her and not within her. She was a creature of habit and not the most outgoing person on her best day. The past couple of months had pushed her out of her comfort zone in too many ways to count.

  She’d never been paranoid, and with a crime rate bordering on nonexistent, Magnolia could be counted on as a safe place. Yet, one of the most important lessons she’d learned from her father’s passing was that looks could be deceiving.

  “Who’s there?” she called into the night, feeling a little foolish. Part of her wondered if she was talking to the grapevine deer and plastic snowmen that already decorated the lawns of houses on either side of the street, even though they still had a week until Thanksgiving.

  Magnolia took the holidays seriously, although there seemed to be some kind of unwritten rule about turning off Christmas lights at eleven o’clock each night. Only a silvery moon high in the sky and one lone streetlight illuminated the darkness now.

  A dog barked a few houses down from where she stood. Carrie spun toward the sound but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

  When she turned back around, a dark shape had emerged from the shadows on the sidewalk in front of her.

  Carrie opened her mouth to scream but no sound came out. Panic pounded through her until the broad-shouldered man stepped into a sliver of moonlight.

  “It’s me, Carrie. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Pressing a palm to her chest, she silently commanded her heart to stop pounding. “Are you crazy, Dylan?” She held up a hand. “No need to respond. I know the answer already. Why are you following me?”

  All six foot three inches of Dylan Scott, with his tousled blond hair, piercing blue eyes and lean, muscled frame, seemed to stiffen at her question. “I’m not following you exactly. I was out for a walk and—”

  “A casual stroll at midnight?” She shook her head. “On a Saturday night in Magnolia?”

  “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “What are you even doing in town? You don’t live here.”

  “I do now. I moved into a house a couple blocks over.”

  No. “You don’t belong,” she told him through clenched teeth.

  A muscle in his jaw jumped at that comment. “It’s my hometown,” he reminded her, as if she could ever forget. “I belong just as much as you do.”

  “I’ve lived here all my life.”

  “I’m well aware.” One side of his mouth curved, more sneer than smile. “Everyone considers you Magnolia royalty. You’ve always been the town’s shining light.”

  “Not true,” she said on a gasp. Why did people want to fault her because she hadn’t been a troublemaker? She’d had to bust through the same preconceived notions with her half sisters, especially the youngest, Meredith, who’d also grown up in Magnolia. It was as if people lived in some alternate reality where being a good girl was a bad thing.

  Carrie was darn sick of it.

  “The apple of your father’s eye. His best girl.” Dylan hurled the words at her like an accusation.

  Carrie hated the feeling of bitterness they conjured.

  “Did you come back just to antagonize me?” She pulled the tote bag she carried tighter to the side of her body, like she could use it as a shield. “Because these past couple months haven’t exactly been a shot in the arm as far as my self-esteem. I don’t need you to pile any more—”

  His eyes widened a fraction before narrowing. “I’m not here for you.”

  Of course not.

  Even though Dylan had been her first boyfriend, her first love, her first in so many ways, he’d also left her behind the first chance he had. In truth, she had her father to thank for that, as well. Niall had never approved of her high school boyfriend, and when Dylan asked her to leave Magnolia with him, Dad had bribed him to leave on his own.

  She shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d taken the money, but the memory of it burned liked acid in her gut.

  “That didn’t come out the way I meant,” he amended with a shake of his head. “I came back to Magnolia because—”

  “I don’t care why,” Carrie told him, wanting to inflict on him the same kind of hurt she felt then succumbing to guilt when pain flickered across his features. “We’re not leasing the space downtown to you.” She gentled her tone but not the message. “There’s nothing for you here.”

  Her father’s will had brought the sisters together even as it divided his estate into three parts. Niall’s paintings, sentimental landscapes depicting idealized scenes of American life, had enjoyed commercial if not critical success for the first half of his career. He’d been Magnolia’s most famous resident for decades and had both supported the town and demanded fierce loyalty from its residents.

  As his career and health declined, he’d made a series of bad investments and engaged in the type of frivolous spending that left his savings decimated. At the time of his death, he’d owned a farm near the beach outside Magnolia that he’d left to Carrie. In a twist of irony, he’d bequeathed the family home to his youngest daughter, Meredith Ventner, who’d grown up in Magnolia not knowing that the man who raised her wasn’t her biological father.

  Avery Keller, born in California to a single mother who’d had an affair with Niall, had been left the property he owned in downtown Magnolia. The buildings housed his art gallery, a local dance studio, hardware store and bookshop as well as a couple of vacant storefronts.

  Past leaders in the town had relied heavily on Niall’s support and generosity without working
to modernize the town or attract new businesses and visitors. After a rocky start, Carrie and her sisters were helping to change that.

  She couldn’t allow Dylan Scott to be a part of it.

  He continued to watch her, the intensity of his stare making heat prickle just underneath her skin. He took a small step back, and in the dim light she couldn’t read his eyes but knew her words had hit their mark.

  You’ve changed,” he said after a moment.

  “It’s been ten years.”

  “I don’t mean like that, although you’re skinnier than I remember. You always forgot to eat when you were stressed.” He rolled his big shoulders. “In high school, you were a people pleaser. Plenty of people took advantage of that, including me. You let me get away with anything.”

  Her stomach pitched and swooped at the memory of all the things she’d let Dylan get away with in his old Chevy pickup. He’d been three years older than she, dangerous and exciting for a shy girl. She’d felt alive with him and hated the detachment in his gaze as it tracked over her.

  Carrie stood in front of him after the end of a long day, in a shapeless quilted jacket over an equally loose tunic sweater with her feet shoved into comfortable work boots and her boring brown hair pulled back into a practical but hardly stylish bun.

  She’d harbored plenty of fantasies over the years of how it would go if she ever confronted Dylan. Most of them involved her in some sort of fitted, sparkly dress dancing with a Patrick Swayze doppelgänger and having the time of her life.

  No one put Carrie in the corner.

  Or got away with breaking her heart.

  “I was young and stupid,” she said by way of an answer. “I’m not so young anymore.”

  “You were never stupid,” he said, the rough timbre of his voice scratching along her nerve endings like a cat’s tongue. “Just too nice for your own good. I don’t think you’re that kind of pushover now.”

  He probably didn’t mean the words as a compliment, but she’d been working hard to become stronger. “Then you’ll understand you have no chance of convincing me or my sisters to lease space to you.”