by Kait Nolan
Her laughter soaked into him like sunlight. “I am on board with that plan. But we have to survive to end of the party. To that end, we should probably go back.”
“Sometimes I really hate being responsible.”
“Just a couple more hours and we can find a horizontal surface.”
“From your mouth to God’s ear.”
Hand in hand, with Casper on their heels, they returned to the party. The pilot had apparently concluded, and Bennet was holding court with all the producers. As all eyes turned in their direction, and more than one eyebrow cocked up at the sight of them, Wyatt wondered if he was wearing some of Deanna’s lipstick. Was hers smeared? He didn’t look because there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it at the moment, so he kept his hand in hers and played it cool, flashing what he hoped was an easy, charming smile.
Myron Boroughs, who Wyatt dimly recalled being introduced as one of the head, head honchos, returned the smile. “Well, I think I speak for all of us when I say that it is, in general, amazing what the two of you have done with the restoration of this house. But seeing what you pulled off without a crew, without production funding, without anything, just to make everything ready, or as ready as it could be to host us tonight, was essentially the last thing we needed to see.”
Deanna squeezed his hand as Myron continued to speak.
“We love the concept. We love the two of you together, and we want to sign you both for a pilot season of a new show on True Country Network. What do you say?”
“We’ll have to talk contracts and all that jazz but,” Wyatt turned his gaze on Deanna, who beamed back at him. “It sounds like I’m getting everything I ever wanted.”
Epilogue
“Don’t you open that oven door!” Deanna leapt across the kitchen and hip-checked Wyatt out of reach, just in case. “Athena said the turkey has to stay in for exactly the length of the timer to get the perfect crispy skin.”
“But it smells so good!”
“Don’t care. I have never cooked a twenty-pound turkey before. We have seven guests, plus the rest of the crew stopping by to film the last shots of the finished house. I’m not leaving this to chance.”
Wyatt heaved a beleaguered sigh. “Fine. I’ll just nibble on you instead.” He snagged her around the waist, hauling her in to run his lips down the column of her throat.
Torn between a giggle and a moan, she tried half-heartedly to shove him away, even as she dropped her head back to give him better access. “Don’t you be writing checks with your mouth that you can’t cash.”
“Oh, I can cash them in spades.” His growled promise had warmth pooling between her thighs.
“Not for another several hours, you can’t.”
“I bet we can make fast use of the butler’s pantry.”
Before she could consider the offer, the timer went off for the turkey. She swatted him away and reached for the oven mitts. “Behave. There are guests to entertain.”
“Remind me again why we invited all these people to Thanksgiving?”
She hauled the giant roasting pan to the trivets on the island. “Because we have a lot to be thankful for. Go take everybody’s drink order.”
Much like the show, it took a crew to haul all the dishes to the long table that was the centerpiece of the finished dining room. Deanna took in the spread with the gigantic bird, the sweet potato casserole, the dressin’, the green bean casserole, the deviled eggs, the hot pineapple salad, and the fresh rolls and heaved a satisfied sigh. This whole feast looked like the cover of a magazine. It did her designer’s heart proud.
“Wait, wait! Let me take a picture first before everybody sits down. I need to commemorate.”
She framed the shot, already imagining the blog post in her head. As soon as she was finished, everybody dropped into a chair. When she didn’t sit, they all turned in her direction.
“The turkey still needs to rest for a few minutes, so before we start with the carving and all the passing of plates, I wanted to propose a toast and have everyone go around the table and say something they’re thankful for.”
“I’m down for that.” From his position halfway down the table, Scott carefully lifted his glass of iced tea. “I’m thankful to be here celebrating the success of my baby brother and his phenomenal taste in women.” As everyone’s laughter died down, he sobered. “And I’m thankful to this man right here for his patience and fortitude and sometimes outright bullying to get me to the point where I got to walk this whole house on the tour.”
Alton clinked his glass to Scott’s, his eyes soft. “I’m thankful you finally graduated to a new physical therapist, so I can flirt with you openly.”
Deanna grinned as he leaned over to give Scott a quick peck that had him blushing.
Beside him, Marjorie cleared her throat. “I’m thankful that I have both my sons back in my life.” She lifted her glass and shot a watery look at Wyatt, who sat at the opposite end of the table.
He angled his head in acknowledgement. The two of them still had a lot of healing to do, but it had been his idea to invite her today. Deanna considered that major progress.
Simon raised his glass, a wide grin taking over his face. “I’m thankful that I finally asked out Fiona, and she said yes.”
“We are all grateful you finally asked out Fiona,” Wyatt announced.
Simon winked. “What can I say? You and Dee are inspiring.”
Deanna winked at him. “Flatterer.”
Valerie went next, looking caught somewhere between nervous and proud. “I’m thankful we have such a brilliant, talented daughter.”
“And I’m thankful that our daughter was strong enough to make her place, even when it was the harder road to take,” Phillip rushed to add.
Throat tight, Deanna raised her glass in acknowledgement. It meant so much that both her parents were finally on board with the dream she and Wyatt had worked so hard for, and the public declaration was icing on the cake.
Bennet lifted her glass. “I’m thankful that I’m finally getting my shot as assistant producer on this new show.” She’d charmed the TCN execs the night of the party. They loved her vision, and she was pumped to be working with one of their best senior producers.
“Here here,” Deanna crowed.
“You totally deserve it. We wouldn’t be here without you.” Wyatt turned his gaze on Deanna. “I’m thankful that this brilliant, beautiful woman took a chance and bought a house with a busted kitchen faucet, such that she fell into my life. That she agreed to come along with me on this crazy ride. That our show is proving to be a raging success. And that she’s going to be with me every step of the way as we keep moving forward.”
Lucky. She was so very lucky.
Beaming back at him, Deanna clutched her own glass. “I’m thankful that this monster turkey is actually cooked. That we managed to more or less get all the food ready at the same time. I’m grateful for friends, family, our sweet pooch, Casper. That we had a successful renovation of Blackborne Hall. For the nearly wrapped current season. And most of all, for Wyatt, for taking a crazy deal and a chance on something more. Cheers!”
The cry echoed around the table, and glassware clinked as everyone toasted their neighbor.
“Holy shit.”
Deanna narrowed her eyes, spotting the screen in Bennet’s hand. “Did you seriously bring your phone to the dinner table?”
“I did, and I apologize, but this may be the biggest thing to be thankful for today.”
“What is it?”
She lifted her head, dark eyes wide. “Blake and Mercy Lee eloped.”
No way had she heard that right. “They did what now?”
“Went to Vegas. There are pictures and everything.” She held out the phone, which did show Mercy Lee coming out of a chapel on the Vegas strip on Blake’s arm.
“Pictures prove nothing. They could be out of context.” God knew Deanna understood that after all her years in PR.
Bennet swiped at the screen again. “They
could be, but the exclusive interview just posted on Countrified confirms it.”
Her heart began to pound as she considered the ramifications. “He really married someone else? I’m really done with paying that rat bastard alimony?”
Bennet reached out to squeeze her hand. “Girl, you’re free at last.”
Relief had Deanna’s knees going weak, and she flopped into her chair. “Oh, thank God.”
Cheers rang out around the table, with hoots, hollering, and fist pounding. As the noise died down, Deanna took a long drink of her wine.
“On that glorious note, let’s eat!”
The meal was full of talk and laughter, exactly the kind of celebration she’d imagined in this room on her first walk through the house. How far they’d come since then. She met Wyatt’s gaze from her end of the table and lifted her glass once more with a secret smile in a silent toast to him.
Well after dinner was over and all the dishes were cleared away, the crew had arrived and was starting on the footage that would become the last episode of DIWyatt. The network had opted to keep the name they’d started with for this brief season special about the renovation of Blackborne Hall. They’d be announcing the new name of their new show at the end.
As she followed them through the house, idly listening to everyone describe their favorite room or feature. Who knew her mom would appreciate the vintage tile surround she’d laid herself on the fireplace in the study? Or that Simon was so attached to the sun porch glider he’d refinished with Fiona? She was a little sad that things would be emptied out tomorrow. An enormous chunk of the furniture had been rented and staged for the big reveal, and they’d definitely needed somewhere for everybody to sit. But she and Wyatt would fill it again over time, with special projects and pieces that fit the space and overall look they wanted.
Deanna leaned against one wall, listening to Bennet corner Wyatt for the call-out segment.
“My favorite part of the house is definitely the master bathroom shower.”
Her cheeks flushed hot, though he didn’t so much as glance in her direction. They’d spent many, many happy hours beneath the spray of that shower.
Though it was hardly efficient, the crew trooped upstairs so that Wyatt could show off all the swanky features he’d installed. When he was done, the crew finally turned to her.
Knowing her role in this, she put on her hostess smile. “My favorite feature of the house has to be the kitchen overall and the custom island Wyatt built me in particular.”
“I added a feature to one of the drawers.”
“You did?”
“Mmm. We should go check it out.” He had that vibrating excitement again.
As they all trailed back downstairs to the kitchen, she wondered what custom thing he’d added. The built-in knife block, maybe? Some kind of utensil organizer?
“Which one?”
“Top center,” he told her.
Deanna narrowed her gaze at him. “What did you do?”
“Open it and see.”
Beyond curious, she tugged open the drawer, only to find it empty. Not understanding, she frowned at him.
He leaned forward, peering inside. “Must’ve slipped to the back. Open it all the way.”
Tugging it open the last couple of inches, she found a small, square wooden box. Everything around her seemed to hush. When she didn’t move, Wyatt reached for the box himself.
“It’s custom. I made it from some of the original American walnut we salvaged from the house. Couldn’t help myself. But it’s really what’s inside that matters.” He dropped to one knee and flipped it open.
The diamond nestled inside was a glorious twist of antique filigree around a princess cut stone.
Wyatt took her hand and grinned from his position on the floor “I’m gonna need you to breathe, honey.”
Deanna sucked in a squeaking sort of breath.
“We fell in love over restoring this house. We’ve done everything together since we fell into each other’s lives, and we’re setting off on a whole new adventure with a brand new show. It only seems fitting that we take the biggest adventure of all together. Will you marry me?”
There was only one possible answer.
“Yes.”
Wyatt slid the ring onto her finger and launched to his feet to kiss her. Deliriously happy, she melted into the kiss and into him. She’d never imagined being here again. Never imagined the life that she’d built with this wonderful, perfect man. And she was looking forward to another fifty years of surprises.
The rousing cheers reminded them both that they had an audience and the rest of an episode to film. Breaking apart only enough to pivot and face the camera, they launched into the final spiel.
“I’m Wyatt Sullivan.”
“And I’m Deanna James.” With a grin, she pressed a smacking kiss to Wyatt’s lips. “For now. And we hope you’ll join us for our brand new show next year where we’ll help you Romance Your Renovation.”
* * *
Choose Your Next Romance
Next up in the Men of the Misfit Inn series is Griff Powell, who we first met in Our Kind of Love. I paired this former Marine up with Samantha Ferguson, who some readers my remember as Audrey’s best friend in Second Chance Summer.
Griffin Powell has avoided his hometown since he left it in the rearview years ago. But the former Marine understands duty and promises, and that means dragging himself back home as part of his brother's wedding party. Which gets him thinking about a promise he made to a woman, after the best night of his life. When she, too, shows up as part of the wedding, it feels like a sign.
* * *
Always a bridesmaid, professor Samantha Ferguson is dreading this bachelorette weekend. She’s the one of the lone single ladies, and the matron of honor is her high school nemesis. Sam figures she can suck it up and deal, until she comes face-to-face with the big, sexy ginger mistake from her past. Can this trip home get any worse?
* * *
Turns out it can. Not only are she and Griff paired up for all the bridal party bonding activities, forcing her to relive high school hell, but Sam's best friend goes missing. When no one takes her concerns seriously, she starts a search herself--and ends up with an unwanted bodyguard whose very presence reminds her of a hot Vegas night she’s tried hard to forget.
Come a Little Closer releases in January and you can preorder your copy today!
While you’re waiting, why don’t you go acquaint yourself with Sam as she cheers on her one of her BFFs in embracing a grown-up summer camp fling with the hot firefighter who saved her life? Second Chance Summer is waiting. It was the 2018 RITA® Award winner for short contemporary romance!
Or maybe you’ve blown through all my Eden’s Ridge series and you’re looking for something else to sink your teeth into. Did you know I have a whole other, complete, twelve book series set in Mississippi? The Wishful Romance series begins with a fish-out-of-water, opposites attract love story featuring a shero who…honestly should be really good friends with Deanna. You can find To Get Me To You here.
Can’t decide? Keep turning the pages for a Sneak Peek of them both.
Sneak Peek Second Chance Summer
A Summer Camp Fling Romance
Professor Audrey Graham shouldn't be alive. But she didn't walk away from the accident that should've taken her life. She shouldn't have ever walked again according to the doctors. But after two years of physical therapy and countless surgeries, she's got a second lease on life. First stop? Camp Firefly Falls to try and catch up on some of the living she never did before her accident.
Firefighter Hudson Lowell shouldn't be alive. In the wake of losing two members of his team in a structure fire gone wrong, he's been unable to work, unable to pull himself out of the survivor's guilt. In a last ditch effort to snap him out of it, his family surprises him with a 2 week reunion session at Camp Firefly Falls, reminder of a simpler, better time. The last thing he expects to find is the woman he helped cut out of a snar
led up wreck of a car two years before.
As sparks ignite between rescuer and rescuee, Audrey finally gets the chance to repay her hero. But can she convince this proud, stubborn man that life is still worth living? Or will Hudson let this chance at happiness slip through his fingers?
“I’VE NEVER SEEN ANYBODY so excited to ride a bus before.”
Audrey Graham gave a little bounce on the vinyl-covered bench seat, strangely delighted with the squeak of springs. “I’ve never been on one. I mean, not a school bus. Just the public transit kind.”
Beside her, Samantha Ferguson, her partner in this adventure, chuckled and grabbed hold of the seat in front of them for balance as the bus lurched through a pothole. “Whatever floats your boat, sugar.”
“If you’re looking for an authentic school bus ride, I can always start a spitball fight.” This came from the guy who’d twisted around from the next seat up. The mop of sandy hair and smattering of freckles across his cheeks made him look several years younger than he probably was. He stuck out a hand. “Charlie.”
Was this what camp was like? All first names all the time? It was so different from the formality and pretentiousness of academia.
“Audrey. And this is Sam.” They all shook hands.
“Where are you from?” Charlie asked.
“Little bitty town in northeast Tennessee called Eden’s Ridge,” Sam replied. “Though most recently Chattanooga. I teach at a small, private college there. So does Audrey.”
For now. “I’m originally from Kansas City, though.”
“Long Island. I work in Manhattan these days.”
“Yeah? What do you do?” Audrey asked, unable to imagine this golden retriever of a man amid the stiff suits and stuffed shirts.
“I’m an assistant editor at Macmillan.”
Sam brightened. “Yeah? What genre?”
“Don’t laugh. Romance.”