We ride up to the front and I park my bike. I walk around the side of the house and do a double take because I see laundry hanging from a clothesline, blowing softly in the mid-afternoon breeze. The sheets look clean so I doubt they’ve been hanging here very long. Anyway, it’s ridiculous to think that after more than a year, laundry would even remain hanging like this.
“Pam, it looks like someone lives here already,” I say, turning back to her. But she’s gone. Maybe she went around to the other side of the house already. I continue on by the laundry and go around back. There is a lovely wrap-around porch on the back of the house and I climb the three steps to get up on it, still trying to find Pam. I look out over the fields that look newly planted. Darn, I guess that means this place is out of the question.
My eyes catch movement over by the stable and I see a horse walking around in the enclosed pen. My eyes bug out.
I know that horse.
It’s Rose.
My heart rate increases exponentially as I once again look around at my surroundings. I stare over at the drying laundry to see what I’d missed the first time. There, hanging among the linens in the breeze, is the pair of boxer briefs with that stupid smiley face.
My heart slams into my chest and before my brain fully has a chance to comprehend what is happening, I hear, “See something you like?”
I spin around and see him.
Mitch.
I close my eyes, squeezing them tightly shut, thinking this must be a dream. When I open them and focus on what is before me, I think . . . no, I’m sure . . . that seeing my Florida cowboy sitting on the porch railing, complete with his three-day stubble and wide-brimmed hat, holding a single rose, is without a doubt the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.
He stands and I run over to him, launching myself into his waiting arms. He kisses me like I’m his long-lost love. I kiss him like he’s the sun and moon all rolled into one.
Then I think better of it and pull back, hitting him over and over in the chest as tears wet my face. “Why did you leave me? How could you do that? Do you know how hard it’s been without you? Do you even know what I’ve been through? I thought you were gone . . .” As I go on and on, he puts me down and pulls my hair out of my ponytail and then tucks some strands behind my ear. He just stares at me like he’s not sure I’m actually here. Like I might also be a dream.
Then I remember the last letter I wrote to him and my anger suddenly disappears. There is only one thing left to say. “Thank you.” I lean in and feather kisses along his jaw. “Thank you for not going to California without me. Thank you for loving me enough to let me go. Thank you for letting me come back to you with no regrets.”
The biggest smile I’ve ever seen takes over his face. “Can I talk now, sweetheart?”
“No,” I say, right before I kiss him with all the passion, all the hope, all the want and need that’s been percolating for the past few months without him.
He breaks our kiss, laughing as he puts an arm under my knees and another behind my back, picking me up as if my weight is of no consequence. He carries me through the back door and into the house that I don’t bother to look at. Looking at his gorgeous face is all I want to do. I could live in a cardboard box and it wouldn’t matter as long as he was with me. “I never left,” he finally says. “It never even crossed my mind to leave you, Mikayla. But I didn’t know any other way to give you and Jeff the chance to figure things out without me getting in the way. I owed him that much.”
He places a kiss on my hair as he carries me up the stairs. “I made you a promise,” he says. “I never stopped loving you. I never stopped being with you. I was always there. You just didn’t know it.”
I absorb what he is saying and suddenly, everything makes sense. “Oh, my God! It was you in the meadow that day, wasn’t it?”
He nods his head.
“The colonel gave me a gun after that, you know.”
He laughs. “Yeah, I know. His guys found me leaving the area and I swore them all to secrecy. I was a little more careful after that. I didn’t want you to go shooting me. That would have ruined everything.” He winks.
“He knew? The colonel knew you didn’t leave?”
“After that, yes. But just him and the guys that found me. And of course Pam and Craig knew all along.”
Another thought occurs to me. “Was it you at Pam’s wedding; in the back with the ball cap on?”
He smiles his answer.
“Where else?” I ask, curious as to how he pulled it off without me knowing.
“I saw your home run,” he says.
I look guiltily at the ground.
“No, it’s okay,” he says. “I’ll admit it sucked having to watch him kiss you, but it was a necessary evil. I knew it had to happen.”
My eyes snap to his. “I didn’t sleep with him. I swear.”
He laughs. “I know you didn’t,” he assures me. “I knew if you loved me even half as much as I loved you, you wouldn’t be able to go through with it.”
“That was an awfully big risk you took, Mitch. I had almost resigned myself to being with him.”
His eyes burn deeply into mine. “It was worth the risk, Mikayla. Anything worth having this much is worth the risk.”
At the top of the stairs, my caveman kicks the bedroom door open and I look in the room to see the bed embellished with red rose petals. It looks beautiful. It smells beautiful. I wonder how one man can be so perfect. I giggle. “Bit of a foregone conclusion, wasn’t I,” I say.
“Sweetheart, there was never going to be any other conclusion for us,” he says, as we both study the bed and then each other, our carnal needs seeping from every pore.
I reach a hand up to weave it into his magnificent hair. My fingers then trail down to his neck, enjoying the feel of his rapidly increasing pulse before moving on to his strong shoulders. My hands on him have the desired effect and he looks at me with hooded eyes. His smoldering stare tells me just what’s in store for me.
Oh, yes, please!
He lays me on the bed and the fragrant scent of the roses further heightens my senses as I watch him quickly remove his clothing. He then takes his time with mine, starting at my feet, taking off each shoe and working his way seductively up to the button on my jeans. He hasn’t even rid me of my clothing yet, but fire shoots through my body as heat and desire pool within me.
When he finally has me stripped naked, he assesses me appreciatively and says, “I love your body.” His lips feather kisses down my neck. “I love your mind,” he whispers in my ear. He gets closer to my chest, licking into my cleavage as he murmurs, “I love your soul.” He purposefully avoids the place I need him to touch so I nudge his head over to my breast and feel him smile against my skin before taking it into his mouth.
My head falls back against the pillow as his hypnotic mouth draws out tiny darts of pleasurable pain when he nips at me. He stops briefly, saying, “I need to see you when I do this to you, sweetheart.”
I lift my head and look down at him. He resumes the teasing flutters of his tongue and I gulp at the intoxicating sensation of watching him watch me as he does it. “I need to hear you when I do this to you,” he says. A slave to his command, I moan out his name over and over as my fingers weave and tug at his hair.
He works his way down my body silently claiming me with every touch. Just before his mouth finds the most sensitive part of me, he demands, “Tell me you want me, Mikayla. I need to hear you say it.”
“God, yes!” I nearly scream with carnal anticipation. “I want you, Mitch . . . please!”
Moments later, I cry out again under the lashing of his tongue that is coaxing my body to the brink of orgasm. I can tell from the sexy sounds coming from his throat that he is just as happy giving me pleasure as I am to be receiving it. I reach my peak with a violent shudder while my hands tear at the sheets and I shout out praises of his masterful skills.
When he has finished milking every last quive
r out of me, he crawls up my body. He takes my hands and pins them to the mattress along the sides of my head, holding me captive and controlling me completely. He speaks declarations of my beauty and tells me how perfect I feel under him. “I will never make love to anyone else. Only you. You own me,” he says.
And as he enters me and we consummate our forever, he looks deep into my eyes, into my very soul and says, “Marry me, Mikayla Parker.”
Unsure if the tears I feel on my face are my own, I answer, “Yes, of course, yes!”
He smiles, filling me with unencumbered love and passion when he says, “Promise?”
Epilogue
Dear Jeff,
I know, I know—call me old fashioned, but sometimes I just like to feel the way a pen rolls across a piece of paper. You know better than anyone how that year changed me. I mean, I still run my practice out of the converted barn out back. But it works for me. It works for us. Just as the fast-paced life of Atlanta works for you and Holly.
Mitch can’t stop talking about your upcoming guys’ outing and how excited he is to be flying up to the mountains to go hiking this year. Thanks for including his brother. It means a lot to him.
I cannot wait to see Holly in all her pregnant glory when she and Parker get here to spend the week with us. You could have knocked me over with a feather when she told me that you’d decided on a second baby. Parker is sure to have a gorgeous little sibling.
How’s my godson doing, by the way? I can’t believe he’s going to middle school soon. It seems like just yesterday that Taylor was teaching him how to ride a bike during our summer vacations together.
Speaking of your goddaughter, Taylor has her first boyfriend and it’s about sending Mitch to the looney bin. He is so protective of her. She is most definitely a daddy’s girl, just as M.J. is my little mama’s boy.
Taylor asked me again the other day to tell her the story of how she got her name. One day, when she’s older, I’ll give her the full, unabridged version, but at age 14 she’s still too young to understand how one woman could love two men. When she’s ready to hear it, I’ll tell her that her dad and her godfather are the two great loves of my life. I’ll tell her how grateful I will always be that you sent Mitch to find me. But, most importantly, she’ll learn to never give up; never settle; and always keep fighting for her forever-love.
I’m not sure our children will ever be able to fully understand the bond that we all share—you, me, Mitch and Holly. I can only hope that they are so fortunate to have relationships like ours when they grow up.
All I know is that I’m the luckiest girl in the world to have such incredible people in my life.
See you soon and love you always,
Mikayla Matheson
Acknowledgments
There are so many people to thank as I wrap up the writing of this, my third novel. As always, I have to first and foremost thank my family. The life of a writer is an interesting existence. I once read that writers never go on vacation because they are either writing about something or thinking of writing about something. It’s true. I had every intention of taking a nice long break over the holidays. Then inspiration struck. When that happens, there is no turning back. My family has gotten used to me disappearing for hours and sometimes days at a time until I get out on paper all of the ideas that constantly float around in my head.
So, thanks to my husband, Bruce, who is also my best friend and biggest cheerleader when it comes to my writing and every other dream I’ve dared to chase. To my youngest children, Kaitlyn and Ryan, who have learned to master homework without Mom’s help; something I may have felt guilty about early on, but now realize is one of the best gifts I could have given them—self-sufficiency. And to my two oldest, Dylan and Austin, who both left the nest this year to pursue the world of advanced education, I couldn’t be any more proud of them if they had left to explore the moon.
To my editors Jeannie Hinkle and Ann Peters who have been with me for all three novels and still haven’t complained about getting bored. Your eagle eyes are invaluable and forever appreciated.
To my beta readers, Tammy Dixon, Sarina Wiechens and Debbie Doran, without your commitment to reading, re-reading and re-re-reading, this novel wouldn’t be anything more than mere words on pages. You helped me organize, rearrange, reword, and rethink to the point of sheer insanity. Thank you just doesn’t seem enough.
Lastly, to my readers, some of whom are now starting to follow me and ask when my next book is coming out. My answer will always be—soon. Because, as I already mentioned, I don’t take vacations from writing.
About the Author
Samantha Christy’s passion for writing started long before her first novel was published. Graduating from the University of Nebraska with a degree in Criminal Justice, she held the title of Computer Systems Analyst for The Supreme Court of Wisconsin and several major universities around the United States. Raised mainly in Indianapolis, she holds the Midwest and its homegrown values dear to her heart and upon the birth of her third child devoted herself to raising her family full time. While it took time to get from there to here, writing has remained her utmost passion and being a stay-at-home mom facilitated her ability to follow that dream. When she is not writing, she keeps busy cruising to every Caribbean island where ships sail. Samantha Christy currently resides in St. Augustine, Florida with her husband and four children.
You can reach Samantha Christy at any of these wonderful places:
Website: www.samanthachristy.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SamanthaChristyAuthor
Twitter: @SamLoves2Write
E-mail: [email protected]
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Epilogue
Finding Mikayla Page 27
