by Abbi Glines
To the woman who gave me everything,
Today’s the day I get to give you my name. It doesn’t seem like enough, but then, you’ve had my heart and soul now for more than a year. This is all I have left to give you. What you’ve given me is so much more.
I decided, since Lila Kate and I had so many letters from you, that it was time you got a letter, too. You deserve a letter more than anyone else. You are, after all, the hero of our story. Without you and your determination, we wouldn’t all be standing in front of family and friends today with our little girl in our arms, pledging forever to each other. As if we needed a ceremony for that.
You became my forever even before I realized it.
Thank you for being brave. Braver than anyone I know. Thank you for showing me that when we want something badly enough, it’s worth taking all the risks and chances to get even a taste.
When I thought I had lost you, not once did I regret letting myself love you. I was shattered, but in my heart, I was so damn thankful for those memories. For letting myself have that time with you. I found out that life is about experiencing those moments when you’re so happy you feel like your chest will burst. We need those cherished memories to hold on to during those moments when the world comes crashing down.
I didn’t understand that until I was there. While you were asleep, all I could do was remember the good times. The sound of your laughter and how incredible you felt in my arms. How being with you made everything right. It’s what got me through. It’s what helped me hold our baby girl for the first time alone, not knowing if you’d ever see her face.
Thank you for loving me. I’m the luckiest man in the world. I know a lot of men claim that, but they have no idea. They don’t have you. And they haven’t held my baby girl. I have it all, and I couldn’t ask for more.
With love from your adoring, lucky-as-hell husband,
Grant
Harlow
I folded the letter and wiped away the tears that were now running down my face. Crazy man had to make me cry before I walked down the aisle. I used the tissue in my hand to blot away the wetness and took a deep breath. I would probably need to frame this, because I was going to read it so often the paper was going to wear through.
“Why are you crying?” Blaire asked as she stepped into the room.
I held up the letter. “This. It’s from Grant,” I explained. “I don’t think it was supposed to make me cry, but it did.”
“Ah, I understand. Rush had me in a fit of tears before I walked down the aisle.
Smiling, I remembered their wedding. It had been beautiful and much more elaborate than this one would be. I had wanted simple, and Grant had agreed.
“We have a five-minute drive. You ready to go?” she asked me.
“Yes. Is Lila Kate ready?”
She nodded. “Yep. She looks like an angel. Her mommy might not be wearing white, but she’s rocking her own fluffy white gown.”
Laughing, I slipped on my flats and tucked the letter into my jewelry box. “Let’s do this,” I said, heading out my bedroom door and toward Lila Kate’s room. She was lying in her crib, looking at her slipper-covered feet in fascination. When her gaze found mine, she kicked happily. “We have a handsome prince waiting for us. We need to go.” I scooped her up.
She did look adorable in her dress.
Blaire led us out to my Land Rover, and I buckled Lila Kate in before climbing into the passenger seat. My dress was easy. I hadn’t gone for the long, white, traditional wedding dress. Instead, my dress was the palest of blues. It reminded me of the color of the sky when looking through a cloud. It was a simple yet elegant satin gown that belted at the waistline and flowed outward, falling just above my knees.
Lila Kate gurgled and let us know she was back there with a little fussing. We turned toward the club, then drove back to the private beach for homeowners only. Woods had offered to let us use the stretch of beach in front of his house. We wouldn’t have any uninvited spectators, and it would be private.
Blaire pulled up to the rose-covered archway that served as the entrance to the wedding. “This is your stop,” she said, grinning. “Nervous?”
I shook my head. “No. Not at all. I’ve never been more ready to do anything in my life.”
After stepping out of the car, I quickly scooped Lila Kate out of her car seat before she got too frustrated and tucked her in my arms. She was still less than six pounds, but she was gaining weight steadily, and that was what mattered.
“Let’s go see Daddy,” I whispered. We stepped up to the archway. Blaire straightened her dress and quickly sent a text to let them know we were ready, since we couldn’t be seen on this side of the house.
The music started up, and Blaire wiggled her fingers in a wave before picking up a small bouquet of three roses—a pink one centered between two white ones. It was a symbol of our family. I would have carried it myself, but I had my hands full of something much more important.
Blaire walked away down the aisle, and I counted to twenty just like we had practiced, before Lila Kate and I made our way down the rose-petal-covered walkway. We made the turn around the house, and there they were, all standing up and turning toward us. The people we loved. I smiled as Lila Kate’s gaze took everything in.
It wasn’t until we were at the center looking straight up the aisle that I saw him. Our handsome prince. His eyes locked on mine.
He thought I was the hero of our story. How wrong he was. He had been the hero all along.
Acknowledgments
Writing this second half of Grant and Harlow’s story was a journey for me I didn’t expect when I started. I’ve never cried so much while writing, editing, and rereading a book in my life. I’ve always loved Grant. I am so pleased that his story turned out the way it did. He was special, and his story deserved to be just as special.
First of all, I want to thank the Atria team. The brilliant Jhanteigh Kupihea. I couldn’t ask for a better editor. She is always positive and working to make my books the best they can be. Thank you, Jhanteigh, for being awesome. Ariele Fredman and Valerie Vennix for being not only brilliant with your ideas but listening to mine. Judith Curr for giving me and my books a chance. And everyone else at Atria that had a hand in getting this book to production. I heart you big-time.
My agent, Jane Dystel. She is always there to help in any situation. I’m thankful that I have her on my side in this new and ever-changing world of publishing. Lauren Abramo, who handles my foreign rights. I couldn’t begin to think of conquering that world without her.
The friends who listen to me and understand me the way no one else in my life can: Colleen Hoover, Jamie McGuire, and Tammara Webber. You three have listened to me and supported me more than anyone I know. Thanks for everything.
My beta readers, Natasha Tomic and Autumn Hull. You both are brilliant and know exactly where to point out what is missing. Thank you so much for keeping up with my hectic schedule. Beta reading for someone who is always writing a book isn’t an easy job.
Last by certainly not least:
My family. Without their support I wouldn’t be here. My husband, Keith, makes sure I have my coffee and the kids are all taken care of when I need to lock myself away and meet a deadline. My three kids are so understanding, although once I walk out of that writing cave they expect my full attention, and they get it. My parents, who have supported me all along. Even when I decided to write steamier stuff. My friends, who don’t hate me because I can’t spend time with them for weeks at a time because my writing is taking over. They are my ultimate support group, and I love them dearly.
My readers. I never expected to have so many of you. Thank you for reading my books. For loving them and telling others about them. Without you I wouldn’t be here. It’s that simple.
Can’t get enough of Abbi Glines?
Read on for a look at the next Rosemary Beach novel, which finally reveals the story of Tripp and Bethy
You Were Mine
/> Prologue
Tripp
Everyone has that defining moment in their life. That one choice you have to make. I had my moment, and it has haunted me ever since. In those defining moments, you either pave a road to happiness or you regret every step from then on. For me, I don’t know which road would have been the best, because between my two choices, neither of them included her.
I had been young and so fucking scared. Scared of being forced by my parents to be someone I didn’t want to be. Scared of making the wrong choice. Scared of leaving her. But mostly I’d been scared of losing her.
She was my greatest regret. Leaving her changed me. The moment I climbed on my bike and drove out of Rosemary Beach, Florida, I left true joy behind. I’d only had that summer with her, three months that altered me forever. But what I would never be able to forgive myself for was that they had changed her just as much. She was beyond broken now. I couldn’t reach her.
Seeing her in pain broke my soul. Losing my cousin, Jace, had caused a deep pain in both of us, one I never wanted to relive. He would forever be in my heart. I’d never forget his laugh and the easy way he loved and lived his life. He didn’t live in the world of fear I inhabited. He chose his path and he walked it. He was the better man. And I had been able to stand back and let him have her. She deserved the better man.
Now he was gone, and both our worlds were thrown off balance. Because I couldn’t stand back anymore. No one was protecting her. No one was holding her, but she wouldn’t fucking let me near her. She wasn’t going to let me fix the past. I’d severed any hope of that when I’d driven away and left her with no other choice but to be with Jace.
If only I could embrace the emptiness and accept it. But I couldn’t. Not when I saw her lost, beautiful face. She needed me as much as I needed her. Our story wasn’t over. It would never be over. If I had to stay here and watch over her, even though she wouldn’t let me get near her, I would. For the rest of my motherfucking life. I’d stay right here. Making sure my Bethy was okay.
Tripp
Eight years ago . . .
It wasn’t just another summer. It was my last summer here in Rosemary Beach. I was already feeling the suffocating presence of my father and his plans for me. He was so sure I’d leave for Yale in the fall. I’d gotten in, thanks to his connections. He’d made me take a tour of the campus, and once I was in, he’d forced me to accept. Nobody turns down Yale. It was all that ever came out of his mouth anymore. Yale this, Yale that. Goddamn Yale.
I wanted to be on my Harley. I wanted another fucking tattoo. I wanted to feel the wind in my hair and know I had nowhere I had to be. That life was free. I was free. Before this summer was over, I was going to ride off without a word. Leave behind the money and power that came with being a Newark and find my path. This wasn’t my world. I would never fit in here.
“Hey, sweetie, I didn’t see you walk in,” London Winchester said as she slipped her arms around one of mine and held on. That was another reason I had to get the fuck out of here—London. My mother was already planning our wedding. Didn’t matter that I’d broken up with her last month. London, her mother, and my mother all believed I was just going through a moody phase. My mother said it was okay if I needed to sow some wild oats this summer. London would be patient.
“Where’s Rush?” I asked, glancing around the house full of people. If Rush Finlay was throwing parties again, then his mother and younger sister, Nan, had to be out of town. Rush owned the place. His father was the drummer in the legendary rock band Slacker Demon. His mother and sister benefited from all the money Rush got from his dad. Rush’s mother had been a groupie once, and although Rush’s dad, Dean Finlay, seemed to care about his kid, he didn’t give a shit about Rush’s mom. They never married. Nan had another father, who was out of the picture.
“Outside by the pool. Want me to take you to him?” she asked sweetly. That sweet tone was so fucking fake, it was ridiculous. The girl was venomous. I’d seen her in action.
“I can find him,” I replied, shaking her loose and walking away without a backward glance.
“Really? This is how you’re going to be now? I won’t wait around on you forever, Tripp Newark!” she called out after me.
“Good,” I said calmly over my shoulder, then headed into the crowd, hoping to get some people and distance between us. I’d been with her for two years. She’d been a really good fuck, and once I thought maybe she was it. But I could never actually say I was in love with her. This past year I realized I was simply tolerating her. I dreaded seeing her, and when I faced the facts, I realized I was keeping her around to make my parents happy. But I was done with that. No more keeping the parents happy. I was keeping me happy.
“Tripp!” Woods Kerrington called out from a circle of girls surrounding him. He was such a fucking Romeo. He made them all believe they had a chance. Holding in a chuckle, I nodded my head in his direction.
“What’s up?”
“Hopefully, a lot of things real soon,” he replied, and this time I laughed. “Jace is outside with Rush and Grant, if you’re looking for him.”
Jace was my younger cousin, and Woods was Jace’s best friend. I’d had them both in my life for as long as I could remember.
“Thanks.”
Turning through the crowd, I headed for the back door.
“Stop it! I said no, Jonathon. I’m not interested.” I stopped in my tracks. That didn’t sound good.
“I got you in here tonight and I’m not getting any thanks for it?” The guy was angry and sounded like a prick.
The girl didn’t respond right away. I moved toward their voices and stopped outside of the kitchen. I recognized the Jonathon the girl was talking to. He was a tennis instructor at Kerrington Club, owned by Woods’s family. He was also a notorious asshole and had fucked most of the cougars in town. If he was about to take advantage of this girl then I was going to throw his ass out.
“I just . . . I didn’t know . . . I want to leave.” The way the girl’s timid voice cracked told me she was scared.
“Fuck that, bitch. I don’t care how damn hot your tits are, I’m not dealing with this shit. You can find the door by yourself,” Jonathon snarled.
I took a step toward the door as Jonathon stalked through it. Stupid little fuck.
I shoved him back into the kitchen three steps with one hard push. He was going to apologize for being a dickhead before I threw him out. I doubted Rush even knew he was here. Jonathon wasn’t in our circle of friends. Some of the cougars he slept with included a couple of our mothers. Not on our favorites list.
Getting his sorry ass to apologize would do him some good. Poor girl should have known better than to mess around with the help at the club. Maybe she’d learn a lesson after this.
“What the fuck?!” he shouted, then his eyes widened when he realized who I was. My dad sat on the board at the Kerrington Club, and I could have Jonathon fired with one word. He knew it.
“That’s what I was wondering, Jonathon. What the fuck? What the fuck are you doing at Finlay’s house, and why the fuck are you treating your date so badly? She too young for you? I know you prefer the over-forty crowd,” I said, taunting him. I wanted him gone. Just one wrong move, and that was all I needed to make sure he lost his job without feeling a shred of remorse.
“I didn’t . . . I mean, I was invited. I got an invite. This is just a girl whose aunt works at the club. She’s not anybody.”
Glancing over at the girl in question, I recognized her right away from her big brown eyes. She was Darla’s niece, Bethy. I’d seen her before. Hell, it was hard to miss her. Jonathon was right about her tits. They were noticeable. But her sweet face and innocent look had kept me from moving in on that. Besides, Darla was scary as hell. She handled hiring the employees at the club, and she’d been there forever.
“Bethy, right?” I asked her.
Her big eyes got even bigger before she nodded.
“This guy’s a douchebag, sweet
heart. You shouldn’t trust him. Be careful who you let take you out.”
“You know her?” Jonathon asked incredulously, as if she were too beneath me to notice. Stupid shit was getting on my last nerve.
I turned my attention back to him. “Yeah. I know her aunt. The woman who hired your sorry ass. I wonder how she’d feel if she knew how poorly you were treating her niece.”
Jonathon’s fear was obvious. He had a good gig at the club, and he didn’t want to lose it.
“Leave. Don’t ever come back. Finlay finds out about this and he’ll do more than give you a warning. He’ll beat your sorry ass. He likes Darla. We all do. Stay the fuck away from her niece.”
Jonathon turned his attention to Bethy. The furious gleam in his eyes was directed at her. She shrank further back, putting more distance between them until her back was pressed to the wall. Dickhead was getting off on scaring her. Stepping between the two of them, I glared at Jonathon. “Leave. Now.”
I could tell it was taking everything he had to keep his mouth shut, but he did. I watched as he muttered a curse and turned to leave the kitchen. “Make sure you don’t stop until you’re off this property,” I called out after him.
When he was gone, I turned back to Bethy. She was wringing her hands and looking nervous. I’d gotten rid of the prick. Why was she upset now?
