by Dani Pettrey
“Anyone in mind for settling down with?”
“I’ve got a couple ideas.” She smirked.
“Very funny.” He bunched the tie of her sundress in his hand and brought his lips to hers.
She sighed when he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers.
“Definitely bumps you up on the list.”
He kissed her again, long and tantalizingly slow.
From Cole’s truck, Aurora howled.
Bailey giggled. “I think someone’s getting impatient.”
“She’s not the only one.” He checked his watch. “Only seven hours until our first official date.”
“And what do you have planned, Mr. McKenna?”
“That’s a surprise, Miss Craig.”
She lifted onto her tiptoes. “A good surprise?”
He winked. “The best.”
Landon cut the ignition and sat back, exhaling long and low.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. What was he expecting? He’d waltz into Piper’s hospital room all jazzed up in his best—well, his only—blazer, with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a stuffed moose in the other, and . . . what?
He swatted down the visor. “You’re an idiot,” he said to his reflection.
What was he doing? This was Piper. Cole’s baby sister, and he wanted . . . what?
A relationship? The word alone terrified him. Too much time and energy involved. Too much change. Too much risk.
But what did it matter? He was fooling himself. Piper had made it clear how she felt about him—annoying, gruff, lucky to have any woman put up with him.
Piper was hardly any woman. She was kind and intelligent, mischievous and beautiful.
Enough!
He glanced over at Harvey in the passenger seat. “What do you think, boy? Am I crazy?”
The oversized mutt tilted his head.
“Right.” Time to go before the dog started answering him. He grabbed the bouquet off the dash and tucked the goofy moose under his arm. He’d never understand why Piper loved them so.
He’d simply walk in there, say hey as he always did, and let her reaction be his guide.
“Be right back, boy.”
At the elevator, he pressed the Up button and paused at his reflection in the doors—his best buttoned-up shirt, his newest pair of jeans, his blazer, and his unbummiest pair of sneakers, the moose peeking at him from under his arm.
The doors opened, and Peggy got off.
Her step faltered. “Landon.” She nodded with a grin.
“Peggy.”
Great. He not only felt like an idiot, he must look like one too.
He jammed the third-floor button with his thumb and hummed over the elevator tunes.
The doors binged open and out he stepped. Before he could breathe, he was outside Piper’s door, his heart racing.
He steeled himself. He could do this. He got shot at for a living.
He lifted his hand to knock when laughter emanated from her room. Piper’s sweet laugh, followed by . . . a man’s?
“Oh, Denny, you shouldn’t have.”
Denny. Landon gritted his teeth and peered inside.
Piper held an enormous teddy bear on her lap, white with a bright red bow. His gaze shifted to the enormous vase of roses on her nightstand.
He looked down at the sad little moose in his hand and the pathetic bouquet of wild flowers. Who was he kidding?
“The roses are beautiful, but it’s too much,” Piper’s voice trailed out.
“Nothing’s ever too much when it comes to you.” Denny kissed her hand.
Landon’s stomach lurched. He dropped the moose and flowers on the breakfast cart outside her door and turned heel. Piper deserved someone with so much more to offer her. While he didn’t believe that was Denny, it certainly wasn’t him. What had he been thinking, anyway?
He yanked off his jacket and climbed into his truck.
Harvey tilted his head.
“Not a word.”
He revved the engine.
Cole rapped on the window.
This day just kept getting better and better.
“You just see Piper?” he asked.
“Nah. She’s got company.”
“So? You’re family. Why don’t you come back up? I’ve got bagels.” He held up the bag. “And Aurora.” He jiggled the leash, and Aurora leapt up, placing two oversized paws on the windowsill.
Harvey whimpered. “Easy, boy.” At least he wasn’t the only one pining after a McKenna.
“What do you say?”
“Nah. I’ve got a lot to do. Just tell her I said get well.”
“All right.” Cole tugged Aurora back to his side. “You okay, man?”
“Yeah, fine. Just a lot to do.”
“All right. Have a good one.”
“Yep.” Landon reversed and shifted into drive. He glanced at Harvey. “Looks like it’s just you and me.”
Harvey moaned.
That evening, Bailey opened the door to find Cole holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a scuba mask in the other.
She laughed. “Well, I can safely say I’ve never seen that combination before.”
“Good. I pride myself on being original.”
She smiled as he tugged her into his arms. “You’re definitely one of a kind.”
“As are you, Miss Craig.”
“I’m afraid to ask, but what do you have planned for tonight?”
“That’s a surprise. You just need a swimsuit. I’ve got the rest taken care of.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back.” She put her suit on under her sundress, her heart racing as she pondered exactly what he had in store.
“Ready?” he asked when she crested the stairs.
“I think so.”
“You sound nervous.”
“Excited,” she corrected.
“Good.” His gaze traveled to her neck, and his smile faltered.
She instinctively touched the locket he’d given her all those years ago.
“You kept it.” Joy gleamed in his eyes.
“It was from you.”
“Can I look yet?” Bailey asked as Cole led her by the hand. He’d made her shut her eyes the minute she climbed into his truck. She’d kept up with the turns he’d made as far as Harbor Lane, but then she’d lost all sense of direction. It was almost as if he’d deliberately taken a circuitous route to throw her off.
“Almost.” His timbre was music to her ears.
The cool grass beneath her feet grew sparser, coarser until velvety sand replaced it. Her toes sunk into the granules, and Cole steadied her.
“A few more feet,” he said, his fingers enveloping hers.
The sun’s warmth still lingered in the sand, and its heat was a nice contrast to the cool ocean breeze riffling through her hair.
The fresh scent of saltwater tickled her nose.
“Okay . . .” Cole slowed to a halt. “Now.”
She opened her eyes and her breath caught. Blue Paradise—where he’d taught her to dive, where he’d given her the locket she now wore around her neck.
“I thought we’d go for a moonlight dip.”
Tears welled in her eyes.
Concern flashed across his handsome face. “If you’d rather do something else . . . I just thought . . .”
She squeezed his hand. “There’s nothing else I’d rather do and no one else I’d rather share it with.”
Pleasure danced in his eyes. “I love you, Bailey.”
“I love you too.” It was the first time she’d told him, and her heart had never felt lighter.
Suiting up, they waded out into the ocean.
The moon shone brightly, its reflection shimmering across the dark surface. The sea was calm—nothing more than gentle waves lapping against the shore. Stars twinkled overhead as they slipped beneath the surface into what felt like a world of their own.
It was amazing to think that little more than a month ago she was li
ving in Oregon with no intention of ever setting foot in Yancey again. Now Yancey was home. She was reopening the Post, volunteering with teen girls at church, and enjoying a phenomenal relationship with the man she loved.
If she hadn’t before, she certainly believed in miracles now.
Two blissful hours later, she stretched out on the beach blanket beside Cole—the sand tickling her feet, the bonfire warming her back. “Are all our dates going to be this magical?” she asked, staring up at the vast canopy of stars glistening overhead.
Cole intertwined his hand with hers. “This,” he said, brushing a kiss across her fingertips, “is just the beginning.”
Epilogue
“I can hardly believe it’s here,” Bailey said, positioning the last of the Russian teapots on the shelf.
“It’s going to be the best grand reopening Yancey’s ever seen.” Cole tugged Bailey into his arms, inhaling the lavender scent of her hair. He’d been waiting patiently for her to finish so they could talk, and now that the moment had finally arrived, his knees were threatening to give way.
“It’ll definitely be the best fed.” She angled her head in Piper’s direction as his sister carried in yet another tray of cookies. “She shouldn’t have gone to all that trouble,” Bailey whispered, her breath tickling his ear.
“It’s no trouble at all,” Piper said, squeezing the tray onto the already overly crowded table.
Bailey looked to Cole.
“Ears like an elephant,” he whispered back, indulging in the sensation of her skin beneath his lips.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Piper said, practically singing the words as she shuffled back outside.
“Take what as a compliment?” Gage asked, passing Piper as he strolled in.
“Piper’s uncanny ability to hear a mouse’s whisper.”
“That particular ability got me into more than one tight spot as a kid.” Gage popped a cookie in his mouth.
“Someone’s got to keep you on your toes.” Piper placed a stack of plastic cups on the counter. “Now, stop snitching the food and help me carry in the lemonade.”
Gage waited until she headed back outside before snagging a second cookie and following after her.
“Finally . . .” Cole slipped a loose strand of Bailey’s hair behind her ear. “A moment alone. There’s something I’ve been wanting to—”
“Bailey, girl.” Gus hobbled in, dressed in his Sunday best.
Bailey smiled. “Well, don’t you look dapper.”
Gus straightened his bow tie. “This is a big occasion. And unlike some folks”—his gaze shifted to Gage’s attire of jeans and a T-shirt—“I know how to dress properly for a big occasion.”
“What?” Gage shrugged after setting the pitchers of lemonade on the counter. “This is one of my best T-shirts.”
Gus shook his head. “Youth.”
“Speaking of youth . . .” Gage inclined his head toward the door.
Jesse entered, followed by Pastor Braden.
“Hey, guys,” Bailey said, moving to greet them. “Thanks so much for coming.”
Cole shook Jesse’s hand, so happy to see him. Following the shooting, they’d shared a heart-to-heart, and that Sunday Jesse committed his life to Christ. Cole had never seen so much joy in one place, the entire congregation rejoicing with the young man.
“We couldn’t wait to see what you’ve done with the place.” Pastor Braden looked around. “It looks—”
“Incredible,” Kayden said, entering the fray.
“Thanks.” Bailey greeted her with a hug. “I couldn’t have done it without all of your help.”
“That’s what family’s for.” Piper smiled. “Oh, that reminds me, weren’t you supposed to hear from the genetics lab today?”
“They called this morning. I was just getting ready to tell Cole, but stuff kept happening.”
“You mean people keep showing up,” he muttered under his breath. Everyone except Landon—he’d been strangely absent lately. Last time that happened had been years ago, and Landon had been in a very bad place. Cole prayed that wasn’t happening again. Surely after all these good years Landon wasn’t slipping back into destructive patterns.
“Well?” Piper asked Bailey, impatiently.
“DNA confirmed Grigor was a direct descendant of Michael Romanov.”
“Amazing,” Piper breathed. “And was he the last of the line, or are there other lost heirs we don’t know about?”
“That’s up to me to find out. But I’ve got to believe there are more. Three seems like such a small number.”
“What will happen to the portrait and orb?” Kayden asked.
Slidell had ordered Princess Maksutov’s casket exhumed the day after the shooting, and they’d found the orb safely secured inside.
“We’re hoping to keep them in Yancey’s historical society, but the Romanovs may petition to have them returned.”
“That would be understandable,” Piper said. “Since the orb, especially, is such a big part of their history.”
“Yeah, but it’s an integral part of Yancey’s history too.”
Cole slid his arm around Bailey’s waist, focusing back on her, on what was welling inside him to say. “Agnes would be proud you’re carrying on the tradition. Looking for heirs, protecting the treasure, running the Post.”
She smiled up at him. “Thanks.”
He leaned in and whispered, “And one day you can pass the torch on to our children.”
She straightened, her eyes widening.
It was time. “If you’ll excuse us,” he said, tugging Bailey away before any of his siblings could protest.
He pulled her into the kitchen and shut the door behind them.
“Our children?” she said, sinking against the counter.
He pulled her back into his arms, loath to ever let her go. “I was thinking at least three.”
“Oh, you were, were you?” A smile danced across her lips. “Don’t you think that’s jumping the gun just a little bit?”
He nuzzled her nose with his. “That depends.”
“Oh, really?” She giggled. “On what?”
He slipped the ring from his pocket. “On your answer to my question.”
Her eyes lit with delight.
Acknowledgments
Jesus—Everything I am and have is from You and because of You. Thank You for saving me and loving me—in spite of me. May everything I do glorify You.
Ty and Kay—My beautiful girls. God couldn’t have blessed me with two more amazing daughters. Thank you for putting up with all my writing quirks. For plotting with me even when it takes bizarre and hilarious tangents. For making dinner so I could write. For ignoring all the clutter and weathering the post-book cleaning sprees. Most of all, thank you for being you. I love you both beyond measure.
Dee Henderson—You are an amazing writer and an equally amazing person. Thank you for taking me under your wing and for shepherding me not only in the writing craft, but in the writing life. I will be eternally grateful for your encouragement, patience, guidance, and friendship.
Dave Long—Thank you for not running the other way when I pounced on you after your Spotlight session, for championing Submerged, and for making my publishing dreams come true.
Karen Schurrer—I love your meticulous attention to detail, your enthusiasm for stories, and your generous heart. I am a better writer for it. It is an absolute joy to work with you.
Chip MacGregor—Thank you for your knowledge, insight, encouragement, and support. Thank you for always checking in and for only being a phone call away. You have an amazing gift, and I am so thankful you decided to share it with me.
Deborah Larsen and Noelle Buss—For your creativity and joyful enthusiasm. Thank you for guiding me through the marketing and publicity process, and for answering my numerous questions with joy and patience.
The entire Bethany House team—I am so grateful to have the privilege of working with you all. I have never met a m
ore loving and talented group. I am so blessed to be part of the Bethany House family.
Jimmy—For all you do. If I listed everything, the pages of this book could not hold it all. I am so very thankful and appreciative of your help, kindness, Christian example, and for being the best Pop-Pop my girls could ever have.
Sis—For your love and support all these years. And for understanding my wacky game clues (aka sister speak). I love you.
My family—Dad, Grammie, Beanie, Captain Awesome, Doug, and Scott: Thank you for always believing you would be holding this book in your hand one day. Thank you for your constant support and love.
Lisa—You are the best, best friend a girl could ask for.
Donna—You are such a dear and treasured friend.
Maria—Thank you for my sanity checks (aka coffee hour . . . Okay, who am I kidding—hours). I have the most fun with you—wooden Indians included. God certainly knew what He was doing when He brought us together, and I’m sure He has been chuckling ever since.
MAD Mommas—For making Monday mornings so much fun!
Shirlee McCoy—For always reading anything I send you even when your schedule is crazy. Thank you for your support and wonderful sense of humor.
Diane Wylie—For reading my manuscripts and being my conference buddy.
Gayle Roper and Gina Holmes—For your amazing critiques of the opening chapter of Submerged. Your insight and encouragement helped shape the opening pages into a story that grabbed an editor’s eye. I am so appreciative.
The wonderful ladies at Joppa Library—Donna, Rose, Bobbie, and Margie. Thank you for fueling my book addiction and for supporting me throughout my writing journey. I am so glad I get to celebrate this with you.
A special thank you to Mike Parker, with SPE Dive School, and Matt Skogebo, of Annapolis Scuba Center, for answering my dive questions and sharing their expertise. You both were a big help. Any dive errors are mine alone.
Dinah—For your guidance, support, and belief when I needed it most. I thank God upon my every remembrance of you.
Last, but certainly not least, Kelli Standish—Thank you for your enthusiasm—for me, my writing, my gorgeous Web site, and for life. It is a joy to know and partner with you.