by Melody Anne
“Picking up my fiancée,” he told her, not moving an inch.
“In a ridiculously priced car?” she said. She wanted to touch it.
“Weren’t you making fun of me because I don’t act like a billionaire?” he asked with a laugh.
“Yes, I was, but it’s something I love about you,” she told him. “But dang, this car is pretty,” she added with a sigh. “Now take it back before it gets damaged.”
“Sorry, I can’t return it. It’s an engagement gift,” he said.
Her eyes snapped to his face, and she looked at him with horror.
“You didn’t actually buy this, did you?” she asked, her tone hushed. She looked around, thinking there might be cameras somewhere.
“I sure did,” he told her. He finally moved and opened the driver’s-side door. He pulled it open and held out his hand. “My lady,” he said.
She didn’t move an inch as she gazed at the interior of the car. It was pristine and unbelievable. She wouldn’t dare get in. But . . . oh . . . she was tempted.
“It’s yours,” he said, his smile fading. “To do with as you please.”
He grabbed hold of her and gave her a little tug and a little push until she was sitting in the driver’s seat. Then he shut the door, and he and Scooter went around to the passenger side. She sat there in awed silence as her fingers caressed the wheel.
“Let’s go for a drive,” he said. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched this perfect man next to her utterly comfortable with Scooter sitting in his lap, both of their expressions seeming to say, Hurry up.
“Maybe just a little drive,” she told him.
And then it was all over. The engine purred to life, and the second she put her foot on the gas pedal, the car owned her. The three of them flew down side roads until they hit an open place on the freeway, and Eden laughed with joy as she shifted gears and marveled at how well the car handled.
Owen didn’t say a word, just sat back, acting as if he didn’t have a care in the world. When she finally turned back toward Edmonds, he asked her to stop at the docks.
“We can’t keep this car, Owen. It’s ridiculous to pay this much for a vehicle,” she said, already dreading giving it back.
“You can’t return a gift. It’s unladylike,” he told her.
“You’re wearing ratty clothes, and I’m jobless at the moment. It’s so excessive,” she said, but she was caving. She didn’t want to let go of the car.
“As you’ve pointed out, I’m a billionaire,” he said with a laugh. Then his face grew serious. “And I don’t flaunt it; I have a job I love that I do because I can help people, and I will die for those I love. I don’t feel guilty about buying my future bride a gift.”
Her tears didn’t fall until she was parked at the docks. He climbed from the car, then came around and helped her out. She pulled him against her, wrapping her arms around him. Scooter was now used to this and stood by patiently, waiting for the mushiness to finish.
“I want it,” she said. Then she kissed him hard. “But don’t think I need it,” she added.
“I wanted to give it to you because you’d be just as happy if I got you a ten-dollar picture frame,” he told her.
“I love everything you’ve ever given me,” she said.
“Well, then, you’ll really love this,” he told her with a grin.
He grabbed her hand, and they walked down the docks, just as they had so many years before. She looked back a few times at her beautiful car, afraid of someone hurting it. Scooter looked up at her with a grin. She was certain her dog could read her mind.
“The parking lot’s secure. Your car will be fine,” Owen assured her with a laugh. She turned to face forward.
“We’ve been waiting all night for you to get here. I told you not to give her the car until tomorrow.”
Eden looked up and saw Dakota and Ace, Kian and Roxie, Arden and Keera, and Declan on board a massive yacht.
“Are we going for a ride?” she asked with delight.
“We sure are,” he said. Then he pointed to the back of the boat. Eden gasped again.
In bold black letters on the back, it said, LIVE, LAUGH, DANCE, DREAM. OUR FATE IS WRITTEN IN THE STARS. EDEN & OWEN.
“Is this yours?” she asked.
“It’s ours. And tonight we’re taking her on her maiden voyage with the people we love.”
She was silent for several moments; then she found herself kissing him again until they were both breathless, and his brothers were catcalling from above. Finally, she pulled away.
“I guess we’ve come right back to where we started,” she told him.
“We took a while to get here, but I want to keep every promise I’ve ever made to you and make sure every dream you’ve ever had comes true,” he said.
“You already have,” she assured him.
He held out his hand, and the two of them walked on board the ship with Scooter happily following. Declan and Kian cast them off, and Arden piloted the boat as they made their way out to the water.
Eden laughed delightedly when Scooter walked up to Max and circled the large German shepherd. This was their normal routine. Max looked down at the small dog with indulgence before flopping to the floor and letting Scooter strut. They were quickly becoming best friends. And Max had no problem letting Scooter think he was the big dog in town.
Eden sat back with her future sisters-in-law, realizing it wasn’t possible to feel any happier than she felt at this particular moment. She watched as Owen stood with Declan by the side of the boat, drinking a beer and talking intensely about something.
“Heads up,” Kian called. A ball went flying through the air, and Owen jumped back to avoid being hit in the temple. He tripped, and Eden felt her heart stop as he tumbled over the side of the ship. She jumped to her feet, but she was too late.
Declan reached out, grabbing his brother’s hand before he could hit the water. The words he spoke next made her realize everything would be okay.
“I’ve got you, little brother,” Declan told him.
“No worries. I can climb back up,” Owen said, trying to pull his hand free.
Declan tightened his grip as he smiled down at Owen. “It’s okay to allow others to help you once in a while. You don’t always need to be the hero. Trust me.”
Owen grinned at his brother as he reached up and grabbed Declan’s other hand and took the help being offered, leaving his fate in his brother’s hands. When he was safely back on the deck, he gave Declan a hug.
“I think I honestly do realize that now, Dec,” he told him. “Together, there isn’t anything we won’t accomplish.”
They were right. They were a family, and Eden knew beyond a doubt she was a part of it. She always had been; it had just taken her a very long time to realize it. She was home, right where she belonged.
Epilogue
Though Owen had wanted to rush Eden off to the nearest justice of the peace and make their union legal, she refused. His sisters-in-law had emphatically refused as well, leaving him outnumbered.
As Eden stood gazing into the full-length mirror before her, she was glad she’d stood her ground. There was a part of her that was broken that her father wasn’t there in person on her wedding day, but there was another part of her that had no doubt he was with her in spirit.
She couldn’t think these thoughts because she’d become a weeping mess before her wedding. Instead, she took a few deep breaths and appreciated having a few moments alone after all the chaos of the morning and afternoon while she’d gotten ready.
It was time, sooner than she was ready, and when there was a tap on the door, she turned and smiled as Roxie walked in. She beamed at Eden.
“Are you ready?” Roxie asked.
“I’ve been ready since I was a blushing teen,” Eden told her.
“Then let’s get you down that aisle,” Roxie said.
Eden had wanted to keep the ceremony simple. When she and Roxie stepped to the top of the aisl
e, she was pleased. Delicate flowers adorned the intimate room. There were about a hundred people in the small church. It was exactly how she’d envisioned her wedding so many years before, when she’d been sure she and Owen would marry.
Roxie put her arm through Eden’s, and together they walked down the aisle. There was no way Eden could’ve handled another person stepping into her father’s place on this magical day, so she’d asked Roxie to walk side by side with her instead of in front of her as her matron of honor. Her friend had tearily agreed.
The ceremony was beautiful, and Eden wasn’t able to hold back tears as Owen promised to be hers for all time and eternity. They made it through the ceremony, and it felt mystical when they were pronounced man and wife.
The reception was intimate as well, though a lot more people came. They ate, gave toasts, cut the cake, and tossed the bouquet. Then the music began, and Owen pulled her into his arms, the safest place on earth for her.
“Thank you,” she told him. “Thank you for giving me the perfect wedding.”
He leaned down and kissed her gently. “There’s nothing I won’t do for you. I hope you truly know that,” he replied.
“I do. I feel the same about you.”
“And now for the father-daughter dance,” the DJ announced.
Eden’s smile fell away as tears instantly came to her eyes, and she froze in the middle of the dance floor, feeling faint.
“I thought I told him not to do that,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I did it for you,” he told her. He turned her, and huge screens had been moved into place across the dance floor while Declan and Kian wheeled out a table. On the table was a teddy bear wearing her father’s favorite shirt and pants, which had been altered to fit the bear. His cane rested there, as well as his favorite books and his eyeglasses. There was a plate with rice and beans, and a cup of coffee next to it.
The screens lit up as “Dance with My Father” by Luther Vandross began playing. Eden was mesmerized as pictures of her and her father played, beginning from the time she was a baby all the way to a month before he’d passed. The last image was of her and her dad, arm in arm, both of them smiling, the love between them clear for all to see.
“You were the person he loved most in this world, and I know he’s here with you. I wanted to give you your moment with him,” Owen told her. “I’m so sorry you can’t be held by him. I just want you to know my arms are strong enough to carry your burdens, and though I don’t ever want to replace him, I’ll love you as much as he loved you, and I’ll keep his memory alive for you.”
She turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck, crying in his arms while the music continued. Her heart was broken and healing at the same time.
It took a while for her to be able to speak again, but when she could, she looked into Owen’s beautiful face and rested her fingers against his cheek. “Thank you. It’s the best gift you could have given me,” she told him.
He leaned down and kissed her, then pulled her back into his arms and held her tight as she thanked the fates for not giving up on her. She had no doubt, as she felt the whisper of lips against her cheek, that it was her dad letting her know she was where she needed to be—and that she was strong enough to be happy and not feel guilty about it.
She’d found her forever, and it was only just beginning . . .
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
No matter how many books I finish, I will never, ever forget that I don’t do it alone. As authors, there are times we live a very solitary life. My favorite writing place is my back porch, looking out over the fields and mountains in my small town. I recently moved about a mile from my old house, and now my view is even more peaceful and wonderful. And though I may write these stories alone, I don’t come up with them by myself, and I certainly don’t polish them on my own. Without a team of people supporting me, I never would have come this far in my journey as an author.
First and foremost, thank you to my fans. I couldn’t do the job I do without you. You stay with me through thick and thin. You stay with me as I try new genres or get a whim. I love you and appreciate you so much for that! I thank you for allowing me to do this job. You are the reason I get to live my dreams. I’ll never forget that! You tell me your stories of pain and triumph, and I’m so grateful. There are no authors without readers. There’s no inspiration without you. I can’t ever say thank you enough times.
I also need to say thank you to my best friend, Stephanie. I was with her as she was taking a nursing class, and she worked through so many issues in this book with me. She’s a nurse practitioner, which is about the coolest job ever. She’s a total stud. She helps me with all of my medical scenes in every book I write. Also, she was the first person on my doorstep when my dad died, and she was there to work through painful scenes in this book. I have used many, many, many ideas in my books from our conversations.
I need to thank Lauren, who’s my editor at Montlake. She’s been with me from the beginning with them, and we click so dang well. I value her advice, opinions, and input. She has forced me to be a better writer, to challenge myself, and to not settle on mediocre but to reach for great. I know that when I turn in a first draft of a book, it’s crap. I also don’t worry because I know we’re going to sit there for two hours if we need to, and we’ll work it all out. I also just like her. I’m one of those people who can’t work with people I don’t like. It’s impossible for me to separate business from personal. My work is personal, and I’ve never been able to do it. I decided I don’t care. It’s just who I am, and I don’t want to change that. I don’t want to compromise my integrity in the name of work.
I have a new editor at Montlake now who’s been added to my team. At first I was a little worried, since I’ve loved working solo with Lauren so much. But then the edits came in, and I was instantly in love. Lindsey is fantastic! She has an eye for detail, doesn’t mind going over issues again and again, and gives me new challenges to face. If I ever hear authors say they don’t need help, that they are fine as they are, I cringe. We are never fine as we are. We get stagnant without asking for help. We need new voices. I’m so grateful for Lindsey and her new voice and her perspective. She’s helped so much with this book.
I know this has been long, but this book has been a journey for me. Every book I write is an adventure, but this book was more so than any other. As usual, there isn’t enough space to thank everyone who helps me. But I am grateful for all of you. I adore publishing with Montlake. I love all the people who work there so dang hard without getting a lot of praise. I love the people who fight for me and my books and who keep me doing what I do. I found a fit with Montlake, and I know it’s where I’m supposed to be. Thank you all!
AUTHOR’S NOTE
I think Owen has to be my favorite story I’ve ever written. When I began this book, I had originally had the heroine’s father die, as that was part of her journey. I’ve killed off countless characters in many books, and I always say that I use and abuse characters according to my own whims. But then tragedy struck me, and my own father unexpectedly died with zero warning. My world crashed hard. Anyone who knows me knows I’m a daddy’s girl through and through. My dad raised me, and I’m so grateful for the years I got with him, for the lessons in life he taught me, and for the memories that will carry me through this pain that seems to never end from missing him.
I couldn’t write for a while. I was a mess. And then I opened up this book again, and I felt blessed. There are so many people out there who go through tragedies, and they don’t get to take time off; they don’t get to grieve the way they need to. But because of this beautiful job I have, I can grieve through my work. I don’t need journals; my journals are my books, and I share them with you, and your words help me get through even the toughest of situations.
Eden’s father in this book is my dad to a T. My father was a man of nature, larger than life and willing to give the shirt off his back to a stranger. He loved being outdo
ors and was simple in what he wanted. He raised me with love and compassion and didn’t judge others. The pain Eden goes through and the things she says are a huge reflection of my own journey in losing my dad. I’ve been sad and angry and happy. I got so much more time with my father than most people get. But I’m selfish and needy, and I want more. I want him here now. There’s a line in the book where Owen tells Eden that her father lives on through her and through future generations. I sobbed as I wrote that scene, but it also gave me some peace, because as I look at my twenty-one-year-old son, I realize those words are true. He is so much like his grandfather in looks and demeanor. He even loves to debate, which his grandfather was famous for. My son does things that take my breath away. We get to talk about my dad and heal together. I have my dad’s ratty old guitar, and I ask him daily to strum it so I know he’s here with me. So far he hasn’t, but I’m not giving up.
I took a hard journey, and I’ve gone through every emotion known to man. I’ve been mad at my dad for leaving me. I’ve told people forever that you don’t have children to be loved, because children are inevitably selfish. It’s how we have to be to survive. What I’ve realized is that it doesn’t matter how old we get; we are still selfish when it comes to our parents. We still want them to always be there for us, no matter what. Yes, our children love us, but they grow older and get their own lives. That’s the circle of life. But as parents, we know that our door is always open. My dad’s door was never closed to me. I knew what I meant to my dad. I also know that he had no doubt how much I love him. There was nothing left unresolved. And now you get to know this wonderful man a little bit through this book and into the next story, as Eden shows up a few times to slowly heal from her loss.
I asked my publisher if I could have the last pic my dad and I took together as my author photo for this book. My dad was a giant, standing at six-foot-five inches, and he was a hippie through and through. This photo was taken in the summer of 2017. My dad passed in January 2018. I love this picture so much. I love that content look on my dad’s face. I love how much he loved me, no matter what. I love that he was proud of me. When I was a kid, I allowed people to make me think there was something wrong with the way he chose to live. But then I grew up and realized that I am who I am because of him. I am so thankful he didn’t hand me everything, but that he taught me to work for what I want. I’m so thankful for all the lessons in life that he taught me. I love that you get to know my dad a little bit through this book and through the years of my posts on social media. Thank you for that. Thank you for helping me grieve. This book will forever be special to me. I will read it over and over again myself and think of my dad. I won’t ever stop missing him, but I will forever be grateful for the influence he’s had, and has, over me.