by K. Bromberg
“I love you,” I whisper.
“When it was suggested I ask you here, at their wedding, I told Brexton and Drew that I didn’t want to upstage their day in any way. They told me I was being ridiculous. That it wasn’t a true Kincade family function without their littlest sister getting special treatment.” A chuckle ripples through the crowd of friends and family, because that might be true. “So here we are, Chase. One orange envelope, one mistaken identity, and one dance in the rain later, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be or person I’d rather be with. Will you marry me, Chase Kincade?”
I don’t wait for him to stand as he lifts the ring up to me. The ring is just a symbol, but it’s the man that I love. So instead, I drop to my knees and take his face in my hands so he can see my eyes when I tell him the truth.
When I tell him he’s my forever.
“There’s no one else for me, Gunner. No one.” I press my lips to his as the crowd erupts around us. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”
EPILOGUE
Gunner
Six months later
“Where are we going?” Chase laughs as I hold my hands over her eyes. We walk awkwardly down the busy Manhattan street, with her in front of me.
The streets are oddly empty for this hour—maybe it’s the intermittent rain that’s been hitting the city—maybe it’s simply perfect timing on my part. Whatever it is, I’ll gladly take it.
“Just a few more steps,” I say and skirt her around a puddle on the sidewalk before walking up to the storefront. The door is open and I direct her inside. “Take a step up,” I say and then move us inside.
“You know I don’t like it when I’m not in control,” she mutters.
I laugh. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
Meeting the eyes of Monique standing across the empty interior space, I nod as she lifts up her camera to start taking pictures.
I allow myself to consider this moment with Chase. The woman she is. How she’s changed my life. How she’s made me a better man.
How did I ever deserve this?
I press a kiss to her shoulder, remove my hands, and step away. “Surprise.”
Chase whirls around, confusion etched in those gorgeous lines of her face, and I smile.
The soft clicking of Monique’s camera draws her attention amid the confusion, so she looks from the photographer then back at me. “What—”
“We’re always on the go, always needing to be somewhere on a timeline, and I wanted to give you those engagement photos you wanted.”
“Gunner.” My name comes out in a whooshed breath of surprise and appreciation.
“I know we cancelled ours because baby McKenzie decided to make an early appearance,” I say of Rush and Lennox’s baby girl, “so I thought I’d make them up to you.”
She eyes me, almost as if she’s wondering what else I have up my sleeve.
Can’t get anything by my girl, but I’m damn well going to try.
“I know it’s not the park or wherever you wanted to do them, but I thought this old place might tell our story.”
She looks around at the old bar. It’s been neglected for years. Old chairs and tables gathering dust. A bar top with dim and dilapidated lights overhead, a mirror behind it, and half-empty bottles in front of it.
“Our story?” she asks as she takes a step toward the bar top and its worn, green leather stools.
“Mm-hmm.” I step beside her and link my fingers with hers. “In case you’ve forgotten, we met in a bar. I do believe I was worn down much like this place is and you stepped inside and lit up the room.” I press a kiss to her hand.
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“I know. And you love me for it.” I tug her toward the bar top. “Humor me?” I ask. “Take these with me and we can do another round somewhere of your liking, but I saw this place and couldn’t resist doing some photos here. A setting that defines me in a city that characterizes you.”
“Okay.” She draws the word out as she eyes me. “This is so unlike you.”
“I know, but I wanted to do this for you.”
“I’m Monique,” the photographer says, stepping forward to shake Chase’s hand. She tells her what her thoughts are for background and pictures.
Their laughter soon fills the space as they talk about staging while I open the garage door-style windows that roll up and open the restaurant area out to the street.
“Should we get started?” Monique asks.
We spend the next forty minutes posing in different locations inside the bar. The laughter flows as freely as I imagined the alcohol once did in this place.
“It’s raining,” Chase whispers as the puddles outside begin to ripple with its drops.
“It is.”
“It’s perfect.” She stares as the cadence of the rain picks up.
“You’re serious,” I say as she tugs on my hand and leads me outside, the little clicks of the camera following closely behind us.
“Dance in the rain with me, Gunner.” Chase twirls out onto the sidewalk, her face held up to the sky, her smile contagious. And when she looks at me again, I see my whole fucking world.
And so we dance.
In the rain.
The beating of our hearts and the drops of the rain the only music we need.
My lips meet hers as my hands come to the sides of her face. Water streams down our cheeks as our tongues touch and express how we feel without words.
“Could you have planned this any better?” she whispers against my lips, as our foreheads rest against each other’s. Busy New Yorkers scurry past us, umbrellas in every color in their hands, but we don’t see a thing.
We only see each other.
But then again, haven’t we always?
“I didn’t plan a thing, but somehow with you, Chase, things always fall into place.”
Another kiss. Another reminder why she’s my whole world.
“Can you look this way?” Monique asks from the chair she’s perched on, taking pictures.
I wonder how long it will take before Chase sees it. Before it all computes.
“Gunner?”
Bingo.
“I’m smiling. I can’t talk,” I tease. But with her hand in mine, she takes a step closer to the front of the building and stares at the sign.
At the first and only thing I’ve bought so far for my new venture.
“Jackpot?” she asks before looking at me.
“Yep. It’s a term our Rangers used to use for a mission that went perfect.”
“So the opposite of FU-Bar?”
“Polar opposite,” I say and grin.
“What am I missing?” She looks around, at the street signs to get her bearings, and at the building before her. “I’ve walked past this place before and that”—she points to the sign—“wasn’t there before.”
“You’re right. It wasn’t. The new owner put it up last week.”
“New owner?”
I nod. “You’ve been killing yourself for most of the past two years going to and from the city so I don’t have to adjust my life. But being together, sharing a life with one another, is about compromise. It’s about taking turns. It’s about trying to give more than you get.” I reach out and tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. “Here’s my compromise. My taking of turns. My giving you more than I’m getting.”
“This is yours?” she asks, eyes wide.
I nod. “It needs some love to shine bright, much like I once did and you gave me. How you helped turn my life from FU-Bar to Jackpot. We’ve applied for all the right licenses and permits. Once those come through, we’ll start renovating it and making it a sister establishment to FU-Bar.”
“How—what about FU-Bar—I mean—”
“It’s Nix’s turn to heal,” I say. “He offered to run the place, become a partner with me there, and take care of my baby for me.”
And there’s no one I’d rather turn it over to.
“What about The Center? The boys? I m
ean—”
“I’m a military brat, Chase. You know that. I’m used to moving, to hurting, to having to forge ahead.”
“I refuse to make you choose—”
“You’re not making me choose. I’m choosing. It’s time I build that life I was given a second chance at. Besides, I trust Ellie there. I’ll visit for events, but I can’t stay there forever. I can’t live in the guilt anymore.” I shrug, as if coming to that realization didn’t take the hours and hours of soul searching it did. “Besides, there are plenty of kids here in the city I’m sure I can help.”
I missed out on having a dad around. I missed out on learning from a good role model for a father. I’ve had plenty of practice with other people’s kids.
I want to apply that to my own family.
To the one I can’t wait to make with Chase.
“Chase, I don’t do anything half-heartedly, so why would I start our life together that way? You’ve been the one making the sacrifice, traveling at will, to make this work. I appreciate it. But now? Now, it’s my turn. Now, I need you to know that you are my number-one priority.”
“I’ve never felt like I wasn’t,” she murmurs, but the tears in her eyes show she understands what I’m saying. That I’ll move heaven and fucking earth for her.
“Jackpot.” She rolls the name around on her tongue and looks at me with tears in her eyes.
“That’s you. You’re mine.” I shrug.
“Seems to me like you have it all figured out.”
“I’m sure I’ve forgotten a few things.” I laugh.
“Like kissing me.”
“Now that? That I can do.”
And so I kiss Chase.
On the sidewalk.
In the rain.
Talk about getting a second chance.
At having a family.
At making a difference.
At life.
Baseball was once my shelter. My therapist’s office. My first love. One that somehow brought the two of us together.
But now, my only love is the woman standing beside me.
The woman I can’t wait to make new memories with.
Share new hopes with.
Fulfill my dreams with.
COMING SOON
You fell in love with Hunter and Dekker in Hard to Handle.
Then Rush swept you off your feet in his and Dekker’s story Hard to Hold.
Not to be overshadowed was Drew and Brexton in Hard to Score.
And you just finished Chase and Gunner’s story in Hard to Lose.
I thought I would be done with this world when I typed THE END on Hard to Lose, but there is one more character nagging for me to write him: Finn Sanderson.
Stay tuned for Finn’s story in Hard to Love—coming this summer. You can preorder the book HERE.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
New York Times Bestselling author K. Bromberg writes contemporary romance novels that contain a mixture of sweet, emotional, a whole lot of sexy, and a little bit of real. She likes to write strong heroines and damaged heroes who we love to hate but can’t help to love.
A mom of three, she plots her novels in between school runs and soccer practices, more often than not with her laptop in tow and her mind scattered in too many different directions.
Since publishing her first book on a whim in 2013, Kristy has sold over one and a half million copies of her books across twenty different countries and has landed on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestsellers lists over thirty times. Her Driven trilogy (Driven, Fueled, and Crashed) is currently being adapted for film by the streaming platform, Passionflix.
With her imagination always in overdrive, she is currently scheming, plotting, and swooning over her latest hero. You can find out more about him or chat with Kristy on any of her social media accounts. The easiest way to stay up to date on new releases and upcoming novels is to sign up for her newsletter or follow her on Bookbub.
