His insides vibrated. “Are you sure?”
“Never been more sure of anything in my life.”
“But don’t we need a few things to get married?”
“You mean like the wedding license I dragged you to City Hall for last week?”
One of the only times he’d seen her last week, and he’d wondered at the hurry. But she’d assured him they might as well get it taken care of since it was the only thing on the future wedding checklist she could handle doing right then and there. “You sure fooled me.”
She bounced on the balls of her feet, which were adorably bare despite the soft, fancy dress. “And we just so happen to have a pastor with us too. Imagine that.”
Derek shook his head. “You thought of everything.”
“So is that a yes?”
He whooped, taking her in his arms and twirling her around before setting her back down and kissing her senseless. “You better believe it.”
“Good, because our witnesses are here.”
At that moment, a small motorboat putted toward them, and Derek recognized the helmsman. “Evan? And is that Madison?”
“Yes.” Ashley hesitated. “I know Ben and Bella would have loved to be here, but they’re so busy getting ready for their own wedding next weekend. And Shannon is handling the reunion …”
Derek took her hand in his and kissed her fingertips. “Evan and Madison are perfect. I’m sure our families will understand, especially if we have a reception later.”
“You think so? That’s the only thing I’m not sure about.”
“Ash, they love you. And if this is what you want—what will make you happy—then they’ll be happy for you. For us.”
She smiled up at him, her grin dazzling in the sunlight. “It is what I want.”
“Good. Me too.” He tipped her chin and kissed her.
“Hey, aren’t you supposed to wait for a pronouncement or something?” Evan parked the boat off the back and he and Madison climbed aboard the motor yacht. The women hugged and Evan slapped Derek on the back. “Congrats, man.”
“I just found out.”
His friend grinned. “I know. Mad and I have been avoiding you all week so we didn’t spoil the surprise. You have no idea how hard it was.”
Derek punched Evan in the shoulder. “Just glad you’re here.”
Spencer stepped toward them, and with the sky and waves as their witnesses, he spoke the words Derek had only dreamed of hearing as Ashley’s groom. Before Derek knew it, he was reciting his vows, and then Ashley was slipping a simple white gold band on his left hand.
“It’s my great honor to pronounce you man and wife,” the pastor said. “Derek, go ahead and kiss your bride.”
Derek’s chest swelled. His bride. How far they’d come, and how far they’d go.
But as for the going, they’d do it together.
With all the care he could manage, Derek took his beloved’s face in his hands and melded her lips with his own. She tasted of sun and sea and the one thing he’d feared never to find.
A forever kind of love.
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Can’t get enough of Walker Beach? You can read Shannon’s story in the next book, All You Need Is Love. Turn the page for a sneak peek…
All You Need Is Love Sneak Peek
Normally, life in the slow lane suited Shannon Baker just fine.
But three to six months to become a foster mom—to become Noah’s mom?
That was an eternity.
The water lapped at her bare feet as she walked the wet shoreline, flip-flops dangling from her fingers. At eleven o’clock, the beach was already crowded with locals and tourists alike, but Shannon only had attention for the boy she hoped one day to adopt.
Several feet ahead, Noah Robinson tossed a football to Lucky and laughed as the golden retriever took off into the fringes of the California surf. Shannon closed her eyes for a moment, relishing the five-year-old’s giggles pealing across the same breeze that lifted Shannon’s hair off her shoulders.
Noah’s joy, the late-June sun on Shannon’s face, the crisp scent of coconut sunscreen and brine—it all soothed the parts of her soul left ruffled by the call she’d received from the adoption agency yesterday after work. The one that had stated she’d have to wait much longer than she’d hoped to bring Noah into her home.
Which meant he faced even more uncertainty. And his short life had already been filled with so much.
When combined with the thought that tonight she’d have to face her sister Quinn for the first time in forever—thank you, Baker family reunion—it was almost enough for Shannon to bury herself in a heap of blankets and stay curled up in bed all day watching Hallmark Christmas movies in the middle of summer.
But here she was, fighting the urge to turn inward. Fighting to keep the peace in her own heart. Fighting for Noah’s sake.
The blond-haired boy raced after Lucky toward the north end of the beach, where rocks curved into a magnificent cove that divided the beach from a six-acre community park on the other side.
“Noah!” Shannon cupped her hands around her mouth. “Don’t go too far.”
“Okay!” But as soon as he reached the rocks, he disappeared from sight.
There wasn’t anywhere for him to go past the rocky cove, and he could swim, but that didn’t stop Shannon from chasing after him, her heart banging against her ribs until she caught sight of the boy hugging Lucky at the edge of the water. For the first time since she’d picked him up from his current foster home this morning, he’d stopped moving, staring out across the ocean.
He’d grown so much in the two years since she’d met him. A recent spurt had left his bathing suit two inches higher than his knee, but in this moment, he was the same three year old she’d had to comfort when his grandma Mary had dropped him off in Shannon’s preschool classroom for the first time.
The faraway gaze in his precious blue eyes, the way he bit his bottom lip so it didn’t tremble, his arms wrapped tight around Lucky’s neck—they all socked Shannon in the gut, a reminder that he was lost. No matter how brave and confident and friendly he’d grown since that first day of school, a boy simply didn’t get over his mother leaving him behind to chase other dreams.
And with his former-neighbor-turned-foster-mom moving out of state by the end of the summer, he needed someone he could count on. She wanted to be that person.
Shannon dropped her shoes on the ground, squatted beside Noah, and placed her hand on his back. “You okay, bud?”
He glanced at her, his freckled nose scrunched. “Miss Florence is taking me to see Grandma tomorrow.”
“Is she?” His foster mom hadn’t mentioned it when Shannon had picked him up this morning. “That will be nice.”
Noah plopped onto the ground and leaned toward her, his soft curls tickling her neck as she slid her arm around him. “What if her memory is so bad that she doesn’t know who I am?”
Oh, bud. How she wished she could assure him that would never happen. But with Mary Robinson’s recent diagnosis of Alzheimer’s, it was almost inevitable at some point. Shannon squeezed the boy and kissed the top of his head. “Even if your grandma’s mind can’t always remember, her heart will never forget you. How could anyone forget such a wonderful boy?”
Noah snuggled closer as the water lapped in and out.
Rocks skittered behind them, and a low growl rumbled in Lucky’s throat, breaking the peace of the moment. The dog bounded toward the rocks and barked a few sharp warnings.
“Lucky!” Shannon’s arm dropped from Noah’s shoulders and she pivoted from her spot on the ground. “Wha—”
The question caught in her throat at the sight of a man standing not ten feet away, his hands held up as if a police officer had ordered him to surrender. “Whoa, boy.”
Shannon scrambled to her feet. She should call Lucky off, but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.
The man cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but—”
Lucky advanced a step, a deep growl breaking the man’s speech. The guy took a step back.
Shannon shook herself from her stupor. “Lucky. Heel.”
Her dog whipped his head around, big brown eyes mournful, but he eventually trotted to her side.
I’m so sorry. Why wouldn’t the words come out of her mouth? Sure, she didn’t have an affinity for chatting up strangers like her cousin Ashley, and she wasn’t a take-charge type like her soon-to-be cousin Bella, but she did have common decency.
And yet, when a well-dressed man with gel-tousled brown hair, deep chocolate eyes, olive skin, and a straight Grecian nose looked at her, apparently Shannon’s manners disappeared. All she could do was stand there like an idiot, blinking hard as if sand had settled into her eyelids. If only she had that excuse.
“Hi.” Noah’s voice sliced through the silence, causing Shannon to jump. Before she could remind Noah not to talk to strangers, the boy moved around her and toward the man. “My name’s Noah.”
“Hey, Noah. I’m Marshall.” The guy’s face lit up with a grin—and goodness, his five o’clock scruff made it hard to tell, but were those dimples on either side of his mouth?
Didn’t matter that it was only seventy-something degrees out and Shannon wore shorts and a tank top. She was sweating. “Noah, let’s not bother the poor man.”
The boy’s shoulders drooped at her words. He dragged his feet back toward the ocean, pulling Lucky along with him.
“He wasn’t bothering me. I’m afraid I was unintentionally bothering you.” Marshall stuck his hands into the pockets of his khaki shorts as he came to stand beside her. He wore a white button-up shirt rolled to his elbows, and his silver watch winked in the sunlight. Hints of some sort of exotic cologne filled the air between them.
He definitely was not from Walker Beach. She’d have remembered him for sure.
“You just surprised us. I didn’t hear you coming at all.” Shannon toed the sand before forcing herself to glance up into his eyes.
Her efforts were rewarded with another view of his dimples—yep, they were definitely there. “That’s because I was here the whole time.” He nodded at the rocks. “I got into town way too late to explore last night, so this morning I found myself wandering the beach and ended up in this little cove.”
“And then we broke your peaceful retreat. I’m so sorry. And sorry about my dog. He doesn’t act like that unless I’m being threatened.” She winced. “Not that you were threatening us. He just misread the situation.” Goodness, she was rambling.
But she didn’t usually talk to guys she didn’t know extremely well. Shannon Baker had never been that girl—bold, smooth, flirtatious. Not like Quinn.
Thankfully, Marshall ignored her blathering and offered an easy laugh. “No worries. That’s the best kind of dog.” He looked at Noah and Lucky, who were knee high splashing in the waves together. “He’s really good with your son.”
“Oh, he’s n—” Shannon hesitated. “He’s not my son … yet.”
“Yet?”
“I’m hoping to adopt him.”
Her chest warmed at the thought of Noah moving into Bella’s old room. In anticipation of her wedding next weekend, her former roommate had already moved into the house she and Shannon’s cousin Ben were renting just a few miles away. Afterward, Shannon had made a whirlwind trip to Herman Hardware and purchased paint and a few decorations to get the room ready for Noah.
While she’d painted, she’d dreamed of their future. Of stargazing on summer nights and curling up by the fireplace reading stories during the winter. Of learning about sports for the first time because Noah was interested in baseball. Of giving the boy a sense of security he could count on for as long as she had the ability to provide it.
Shannon may not be a former NFL player like her brother, a business owner and town leader like her parents, or a hotshot marketing executive like her sister, but she could do this one meaningful thing with her life.
A tear slid down her cheek. She swiped it away.
“You all right?”
Oh, goodness. Right. Marshall was still here. What was she thinking, being so vulnerable in front of a stranger? “Y-yes. Sorry.”
“Hey, don’t apologize. I find your honesty refreshing.”
Her eyes shot toward his again, but no, his serious gaze seemed just as genuine as his tone. Still . . . “We should leave you in peace.”
“Eh, peace is overrated.”
It was totally her imagination, but the way he looked at her—gaze narrowed but soft—made her feel like he saw something there worth knowing. But that was ridiculous. She wasn’t anything special.
Besides, she’d misread a guy’s interest before, and she wasn’t making that mistake again. “I have a dinner to get ready for, and . . .” Her excuse trailed off.
“Ah, I see.” A tease lit his eyes. “Hot date with your boyfriend?”
Sudden laughter burst from her throat. “Um, no.” What would this guy say if he knew Shannon had never been on a date, much less had a boyfriend?
In the distance, seagulls swooped into the water, hunting for a late breakfast.
She pointed at Noah. “Besides my dad, brother, and a passel of cousins and uncles, that is the only man in my life.”
As if sensing Shannon’s attention, the kid looked up and waved, a smile overtaking his face. Yes, they were going to be okay, even if the wait to be together was longer than she’d like. In the meantime, his social worker Miranda Shubert would make sure Noah was placed in good temporary foster homes once Florence moved. Shannon had already connected with Miranda several times, and she was the one who had suggested the adoption agency Shannon had chosen one town over.
Marshall squinted at Noah. “I mean, he’s a little short, but I can see his appeal.”
Shannon couldn’t help but giggle. Oy, she must sound like a schoolgirl to this sophisticated guy, not a twenty-seven-year-old woman.
Marshall studied her for a beat before looking away and clearing his throat. “Hey, do you mind if I play a round of catch with Noah before you go?”
Really? He wasn’t anxious to escape? “No, I don’t mind.”
“Great.” He jogged toward Noah, holding up a hand and shouting something the wind carried away.
Moving back toward the rock where apparently Marshall had sat not twenty minutes ago, Shannon hunkered down to watch as Marshall and Noah tossed the football back and forth along the stretch of beach tucked away from the rest of the town. Lucky bounded between them, following the trajectory of the ball in an attempt to retrieve it.
A strange sensation slowly worked its way through Shannon’s veins as she looked on. Something about the scene in front of her called, beckoned—demanded she stop sitting on the sidelines. Standing, Shannon brushed off the sand clinging to the backs of her legs and walked toward the guys.
Noah cheered as she approached Marshall. He lobbed the ball her way and she grimaced, squeezing her eyes shut as she held out her hands in an attempt to catch it. It gave a telltale thwack as it hit the ground.
“You know, it’s a lot easier to catch when you can actually see it coming.” Marshall advanced, leaned down to pick up the ball, and slipped it into her fingers.
“You’d think I’d know that by now. My brother used to play football.” She turned and lobbed the ball toward Noah—or attempted to, anyway. It fell pathetically short, giving Lucky the chance he’d been looking for to swoop in and steal it. He took off running toward the rocks, Noah shouting and hot on his trail. “Well, it’s official. I’m going to be the worst boy mom ever.”
“No way. I don’t
even know your name and I can tell you’re going to be an amazing mother.”
His declaration stole her breath.
It was dumb to be so affected by the confidence in a total stranger’s tone, but still it meant something to her. Not even her parents had seemed so sure of her decision to adopt when she’d informed them about it a little over a week ago.
She hugged her waist. “Shannon.” The word came out a whisper.
Marshall cocked his head, moved closer. “What?”
She tilted her chin upward—he had to be nearing six feet tall to her five five—licked her lips, and tried again. “My name is Shannon.”
“That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”
She blinked, stepped back, shook herself from the trance. Because guys just didn’t say things like that.
Well, they said them to her sister Quinn all the time.
But not to Shannon.
Clearly he was just an outrageous flirt.
His eyebrows scrunched together and he massaged the back of his neck. “Sorry, I really never say things like that. But today, I’m . . . not quite myself.”
Oh.
Before Shannon could respond, Noah bounded back over, huffing, while a dejected Lucky followed. “Miss Shannon, can we try throwing again?”
“Of course, bud. I’ll try to do better this time.”
They spread out once more, forming a triangle. But it didn’t matter how much she wanted to catch the ball—it slipped through her fingers every time. No wonder she’d nearly failed PE in high school.
Marshall jogged over. “I don’t want to interfere, but would you like some pointers?”
“Yes, please.”
And for the next fifteen minutes, he showed her the best way to position her hands to catch a ball above her waist and below it. She mixed them up several times, but then, miracle of miracles, she caught one.
Squealing, she held it up in triumph, and both Marshall and Noah ran toward her, whooping and celebrating with her. Noah threw his arms around her waist, and she caught Marshall’s eye over his head. She mouth Thank you, and he just grinned in reply.
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