Unforgettable
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Do you believe in second chances at happiness for lost loves?
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Prodigal son Daniel Harper doesn’t. His only goals upon returning to Journey’s End after fourteen years? To run his family’s winery and get his college girlfriend, beautiful Zoya Thomas, out of his head forever.
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Zoya’s only goal? To avoid sexy Daniel like the plague.
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What happens when these two run into each other at a wedding? Come to small-town Journey’s End and find out…
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If you love emotional contemporary romances that are nice and steamy, pick up Unforgettable today!
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“Ann Christopher gets it right every time. Emotional, page-turning reads and characters that stay with you long after you close the book.”
—Lori Foster, New York Times Bestselling Author
“Ann Christopher’s gift with words will leave you captivated and breathless.”
—Brenda Jackson, New York Times & USA TODAY Bestselling Author
Unforgettable
A Journey’s End Novel
Ann Christopher
Contents
Journey’s End Map
Dear Reader Letter
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
Excerpt from ALL OF ME
Also by Ann Christopher
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Journey’s End Map
Tourist Map of Journey’s End, NY
Dear Readers:
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Welcome to the fifth story in my Journey’s End small-town contemporary romance series! I’m always excited to release a new book into the wild, but this time I’m really excited to tell Daniel & Zoya’s tale.
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Why?
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Well, for one thing, I love second-chance-at-love stories (Sweeter Than Revenge, anyone? Redemption’s Kiss?). It’s immensely satisfying for me to rebuild a couple, despite all the odds against them, and to give each person another opportunity to win that one great lost love.
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The lovers in this particular case, DanZo (special shout out to Rita Smith, who came up with this couple’s name) have been waiting a long time to reunite. Zoya appears in the very first story in the series, A Journey’s End (which came out way back in 2013!), where she receives word that Daniel is returning to town soon. You may recall that she is shaken by this news.
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Did you ever wonder what had happened between them? So did I. Daniel has been gone for fourteen years. What could be so bad? And here’s a little writer’s confession: for the longest time, I couldn’t figure out what their deal was. It wasn’t until shortly before I began writing their book in the summer of 2016—and then brainstormed with my great writer friends, Caroline Linden and Eve Silver—that I finally solved the puzzle of their story.
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Now I know why Daniel and Zoya are so passionate—and so bitter.
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Writing their story was really challenging. And really rewarding. Like Bethenny Frankel from The Real Housewives of New York says, “I laughed; I cried; it was better than Cats.” That’s how I feel about Unforgettable. And I’m hoping that if I’m happy with the story, you’ll be happy with the story.
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Finally, there are a couple new things for you to enjoy. Since music is very important to this couple, I’ve included links to some of the songs mentioned. So if you’re reading the book on a smart device and come to a link, click on it to watch and listen! Additionally, I’ve commissioned a map to Journey’s End. It’s about time we see this little town, don’t you think?
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Let me know how you like the book! And if you do like it, please consider leaving an online review. Word of mouth is crucial to authors, and I appreciate the help in informing people about my books.
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Happy reading!
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Ann
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P.S. You’ll notice that Unforgettable sets up several more people/couples for their stories. There’s a lot going on with the characters here in Journey’s End, and I can’t wait to get to them all!
Chapter 1
“Zoya,” said a sexy male voice behind her. A voice she hadn’t heard since she was a senior at Cornell. “Hey.”
With those words, the bottom dropped from beneath Zoya Thomas’s feet as though someone had sprung a trapdoor in one of those old Looney Tunes cartoons.
She froze and gasped, the half-full champagne flute gripped in her hand.
Not him. Not tonight. Not here.
They were in the middle of an elegant evening wedding reception at a pavilion on the Hudson River. Zoya was the maid of honor. The fall air felt crisp, the water sparkled and the alcohol flowed. Inside, the bride and groom danced to John Legend’s “All of Me,” and out here, Zoya and her cousin, Sofia Abbaté, had just finished teasing each other about catching the bouquet. Zoya’s last sentence, that as a grown thirty-six-year-old, she didn’t want any part of that bouquet and would probably never get married, still hung in the air.
Now this. Him.
Everything else disappeared, including her good sense. All of it gone—boom—at the sound of this one man’s molten dark chocolate voice.
Only one man had a voice like that.
Steeling herself to face him again for the first time after fourteen years—please let him have gone to seed, God—she turned and the misery took hold.
There he was.
Daniel Harper, the one unforgettable man from her past, the lone asterisk in her otherwise rich and varied dating life. The man with whom she’d spent two blistering years. The man who’d walked out on her without a good-bye or a backward glance.
Annnnd...nope.
God was not feeling the mercy today.
Because Daniel still stood six four if he stood an inch. Still possessed the square-shouldered and sinewy body of a running back for the Bills. Still rocked those sharp cheekbones beneath the smooth mahogany skin that demanded touching. Still looked just right in his clothes, as though he had Tom Ford on retainer (back in the day, it had been Levi Strauss), ready to cut slim dark suits and custom shirts for his body on an hour’s notice.
Still smelled like a clean shave wrapped in leather and sipping bourbon.
Oh, there were changes, sure, she noted unhappily. A mustache and razor-edged goatee framed his full lips now (those lips had been her heaven when they were in college), and streaks of gray hair had infiltrated his black skull trim at the temples and above his forehead.
The remnants of the boy he’d been (only twenty-one when they first met) were long gone. He was all man now. A thousand percent.
But those eyes.
Nothing about those eyes had changed.
They were still vaguely asymmetrical for one thing, and the way one thick black brow sat a little higher than the other gave him the familiar cynical, seen-it-all look that had always reminded her of Han Solo. Their color? Brown to black, depending on
how pissed off (or passionate) he was at any given moment.
Laser-focused and unsmiling, those eyes locked on to her face and held on the way a broke guy hangs on to a winning lotto ticket.
“Daniel,” she said.
He stilled, his intensity sharpening as though he wanted to snatch the sound of her voice out of the air and examine it in minute detail.
And she, meanwhile, lapsed into the kind of brainless staring that made women look like fools.
Then she caught herself.
Having played the fool for this man before, she damn sure wasn’t about to do it again. No matter how good he looked.
“They said your flight got canceled because of the wildfires out west.” She tried to sound brisk and aloof, a tough feat to manage with her face flaming like those poor incinerated trees. “We didn’t expect you.”
Daniel’s jawline tightened into marble. “Well, you had to know I’d come back one day.”
The faint note of mockery in his voice stiffened her spine.
Bastard. Like she’d waited in suspended animation for this glorious day to arrive? Please.
“Why would I know that?” Without waiting for an answer, she looked to the man standing behind Daniel. The one she’d barely noticed. She meant to be warm and welcoming, but all she managed was a brittle smile that felt like needles piercing her cheeks. “And who is this?”
“Sorry,” Daniel said, a steely edge to his voice now. “Zoya Thomas, this is my buddy from Napa. Sean Baldwin.”
In her dazed state, Sean’s features barely registered, but Zoya did her best to see him. Tall, brown-skinned and handsome, he wore a nice suit and seemed like a decent enough human being.
“Great to meet you,” Sean said, shaking hands with both the women.
“Sofia Abbaté,” Sofia told the men.
“Sofia?” Interest flared behind Daniel’s eyes. “You’re Ethan’s girl.”
“Well…yes.” Sofia grinned. “He’s mentioned me?”
“Mentioned you? Yeah, let’s go with that,” Daniel said.
He smiled, and Zoya damn near swooned.
As if she needed to see those straight white teeth, those dimples and that buoyant flash of enthusiasm. As if she needed another reminder of all the ways he remained the same.
Her stomach knotted around an unwanted pang of longing.
The reaction qualified her as stupid. Possibly stupider than she’d ever been. Fourteen years ago, she’d been a green newbie to the ways of sex, love and Daniel Harper.
Now she knew exactly how much emotional damage one man could do.
Right then and there, she swore it on her soul: Never again.
This man would never hurt her again. She’d make damn sure of that.
“When’re you heading back to Napa?” she asked sharply.
Daniel’s grin slowly disappeared as he gave her a narrowed look. “I’m back for good. You know what people say. There’s no place like home.”
Oh, no he didn’t just say that.
What an unmitigated hypocrite. In that poisonous moment, it was all Zoya could do to stop herself from lunging for his throat.
“People say it,” she said, her staccato burst of words sounding like bullets fired from a gun. “I never thought you believed it.”
Daniel shrugged and looked her up and down. The pointed gesture was enough to sweep her bitterness under the nearest rug and unfurl a dangerous new emotion in its place: renewed lust.
“I’m not as young and foolish as I once was,” Daniel told her in that voice that had always made her want to rip off her panties so they could commence with the screwing. Still did, to tell the truth.
This, then, was the final thing that hadn’t changed about being in Daniel’s presence. Possibly never would change, no matter how much she wished it would.
Her body pulsed for him. Breathed for him. Creamed for him.
Couldn’t care less if wanting him amounted to emotional suicide.
The realization was as sickening as it was humiliating.
She blinked, trying to dial back both her anger and the growing venom.
“Is that right?” She turned away before he could answer, determined not to unravel in front of him. “Well, I’m going inside to get some cake. So nice to meet you, Sean. You coming, Sof?”
With that, she downed the rest of her champagne in a single gulp, thunked the empty flute on the railing and hurried off without waiting for any response from Sofia, following the curve of the deck.
She had no idea where she thought she was going.
It was all she could do to put one foot in front of the other.
Oh, God. Oh, God.
She didn’t want cake. She didn’t want to go back inside for wedding merriment. She wanted to go home to lick her bloody wounds, and then she needed to figure out what the hell to do now. Because Journey’s End was a small town and it would need to increase its population by a good three to four million before it was big enough for her and Daniel to—
“Zoya,” he called from behind her. “Wait up.”
Stifling a curse, Zoya pretended she didn’t hear him and sped up, her spiky heels clattering on the planks—
“Don’t pretend you don’t hear me.” His voice sounded closer and rang with repressed laughter, much to her annoyance. “I’m a foot taller than you are. You’re not going to outrun me.” Brief pause. “Actually, keep trying. The view’s spectacular from back here. Great dress.”
At that, she stopped dead and pivoted to glare up at his smug face as he joined her at the railing. “Already with the sexist remarks? Are you going for a land speed record?”
He shrugged. “Is it sexist to tell a beautiful woman she’s got a great ass?”
“Why, yes. Yes, it is.”
“Feel free to make a sexist comment about me.”
“I think I will. You look as well-hung as ever.”
He barked out a surprised laugh. “And you look better than ever. Not that I’m surprised.”
“What do you want, Daniel?”
“I haven’t seen you in years. We’re both here.” He tipped his head at the glittering water and up at the beautiful dusk. “It’s a nice night. We should catch up.”
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Yes, why?”
He sobered and put his hands in his pockets. “We ended things on a bad note. Now that I’m back, we’ll see each other now and then. It’s been over a decade. Why have hard feelings?”
This perfectly reasonable proposal had the perverse effect of making her batshit crazy. This bastard had never wasted a second of that time wondering how she was, so why pretend he cared now?
“The way you ended things clearly doesn’t matter,” she said. “You’re doing great. I’m doing great. We’re both doing so great that neither of us bothered to pick up the phone and reach out to the other this whole time. Let’s just leave it at that and call it a day.”
“So you’ll be cool? Running into me?”
Cool as a butterfly trapped in a spiderweb.
“I’m not worried about you, Daniel,” she said, possibly the biggest lie she’d ever told.
Something in his eyes flickered and turned dark, causing a nasty twinge in her stomach.
She turned to go because she just could not deal with emotions, especially when they came to him. Cake. She needed to go inside, where there were other people to buffer her from this, calm herself down and find some cake—
“I’m not doing that great, actually,” he said. “I figured you’d be the one person who’d understand.”
She hesitated. Turned back. Reluctantly waited, ears perked and eager to hear anything they could about his current life.
“My dad called me back home to take over the vineyard so he can retire. I was running a big vineyard in Napa. Making good money. Doing things my way. Now here I am.” Rueful shrug. “Not sure Journey’s End is big enough for me and the Emperor to coexist peacefully.”
“Oh.” An
unexpected pang of sympathy hit her as she thought back to a couple of the arguments she’d witnessed between the Harper men. Or, as she liked to think of them, World Wars III and IV. “A lot of time has passed. He’s probably mellowed out since his heart attack. And it was always the plan for you to take over for him one day, right? I’m sure you’ll get it figured out.”
“Let’s hope.”
“And you still have contacts in California, don’t you?” she asked, the thought cheering her up. “You could always go back there if things don’t work out.”
A distinct chill hit the air, and it had nothing to do with the breeze coming off the river and everything to do with the sudden flatness in Daniel’s expression.
“That’s the second time in five minutes you’ve referred to me going back to California,” he said. “Wonder what Freud would make of that?”
Nothing good, that’s what.
She faked a laugh. “I’m merely pointing out that you have options. Back when you ran away to join the Air Force—”