by Tracy Sumner
"Oh, Zach." She walked into his arms, forcing herself inside the circle. His circle. "I love you," she murmured against his damp shirtfront, inhaling starch and soap and him. "I want those things, too. I want things I don't even know how to define yet. But with you, I feel sure I'll figure it out. We'll make a list."
He laid his cheek against the crown of her head and drew her as close as he could. "One more want I have, now that you mention it. No need for a list."
"Hmmm?" She tunneled her hand up the back of his shirt, wondering how quickly they could return to his hotel. His skin felt so warm, and he smelled entirely too tempting. How fantastic, she marveled, to have a husband who was such an amazingly appealing man.
"Well, Irish, to put it plainly like I prefer to, I want a wife who doesn't pounce on every problem in town and end up making troub—"
"Not on your life, Constable." She stepped back, glaring into his face to see if he was serious. His eyes held a barely-there spark of amusement, but the lopsided frown on his lips wasn't teasing in the least. "Being in the same family will not get you special dispensation. You cannot expect me to be anything but unbiased during our future discussions. I know it pains you to quarrel with your wife, but it can't be helped on occasion. Seriously, quarrelling never truly harms anyone. In fact, it clears the air much like peppermint does for a congested nose."
Pulling her back into his arms, he sighed against her ear. He sounded content in the final valuation. If not, she would work on making him happy in the privacy of his hotel room. "Yeah, that's what I reckoned, Mrs. Garrett. I guess I'm gonna have to learn to enjoy quarreling."
"Or the making up," she reminded him.
"Definitely the making up, ma'am."
Epilogue
There is no remedy for love but to love more.
~Henry David Thoreau
The door to the jail rocketed inward, slapping the wall with a bang.
Zach jerked his head up, his spectacles slipping down his nose. The cargo ledger in his hands hit the floor. Hyman Carter stood in the doorway, silent, accusing with nothing more than a finger jabbed in the direction of his factory.
A perturbed—Savannah's big word, not his, and why he thought it he guessed was her rubbing off on him after all this time—breath escaped before he could yank it back. Shoving back his chair, he shrugged into his jacket. The air was getting nippy again. You never could guess what you'd get in October.
"I thought once little Regina was born, darling girl, that all this turmoil would be put to bed, Zach. I gotta tell you, I sure thought that."
"Yeah, yeah," Zach muttered, wishing he had a penny for every time he'd heard that come out of some man's mouth in the past four years. Or some old biddy's after they left church, and he stood around in the yard waiting for Savannah to finish her business and social dealings.
Those were always grand opportunities to give a suffering husband kindly advice about how to handle his misbehaving wife.
"And with her expecting again, why, I can't believe she continues to prance around doing all this equal-female preaching. What I mean to say is, I can't believe you allow it."
A nickel for that one, and he'd truly be a rich man. "How about this, Hyman?" Zach dashed between a wagon hauling lumber and a fish cart hawking flounder for two cents a pound. Hyman kept up, huffing a bit, bound and determined to watch the drama unfold. "You tell Savannah you think she ought to stay at home and be a proper wife." He slapped the startled man's back before turning onto Main Street. "Tell you what, I'll buy front row tickets for the show."
"Why, I, that is, I could never," he stuttered, his jowls flushing bright red. "It wouldn't be my place, you see."
"Um-hum, what I thought." Zach left Hyman to his panicky fit, sprinting along the street, dodging through the crowd of people starting to gather. He heard the ruckus before he reached it. Nothing new there. Nothing new with any of it.
"Daddy!" The small projectile charging through the crowd and into his knees, now that was a tad different. The greatest difference in his life so far. She looked like something Savannah had spit out, a petite dynamo of a duplicate with the Garrett grays. His child all the way, in that way. Damned if that combination hadn't stolen his heart at first sight.
Catching his daughter in his arms, he pressed his lips to her neck and blew against her skin. Regina shrieked with laughter and wiggled frantically. This was her favorite greeting when he walked in the door every afternoon. That and a butterscotch lollipop.
It was his favorite greeting, too. Because he got to smell his daughter, up close. Today? Vanilla and the faint scent of lilacs. And glue. Ah yes, her mother's signs. He inhaled a deep breath, relishing the moment. She'd about gotten old enough to not want things like this: babyish hugs and kisses.
"Daddy, I made a poster all by myself. It's hanging up there on that dirty old wall." She pointed, and in the distance, he could see a rather sad-looking sign that said Equal Pay. "Rory said it stunk because I only painted inside the letters Mommy made. I think it looks good. I cain't get everything in the lines!"
"It looks beautiful, just like my Reggie-girl."
"Lemme go, Daddy," she said, struggling to get free, "I have to go help Mommy fight for freed-dom." When her feet hit the ground, she blew him a kiss and scampered through the crowd. He watched her dark head bobbing, faintly anxious until he saw her reach her mother.
Reggie's tiny hands moved in time with her spirited story. Savannah nodded and smiled, smoothing a tangled lock of hair from her daughter's flushed cheek. Finally, she looked over and above the crowd, snagging his gaze. The same bolt of lighting connected them, a storm of emotion and anticipation Zach no longer feared. He frowned at her, just for show mostly. When he watched his two precious girls, his heart wasn't up to being harsh.
And she knew it, the Irish devil.
Savannah arched a brow and nodded toward the jail. He shook his head, dipping his chin toward the modest crowd of women shouting and waving signs. The pounding surf nearly covered the screeching, but not quite, unfortunately.
Glancing around, she studied the crowd, debating to herself he could see. Calling Lydia to her side, she gave instructions that set the rally's finale in motion. Obviously she had judged him to be worth the sacrifice of a few minutes' bickering.
With a final, intense look, he retraced his route to the jail. The wind had picked up, throwing a chill into the air. People scurried past, trying to make it home for supper. A gull swooped past his shoulder, diving for a scrap on the boardwalk. Preparing, Zach slipped off his spectacles and put them away the minute his office door closed behind him. After four years, he and his wife had perfected this form of communication to near-science.
She arrived less than five minutes later, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glowing. Her beauty and the fact that she loved him still had the power to knock the breath from his body. "What a successful day," she said, closing the door behind her.
And locking it.
"Wonderful." He opened his arms to her, and Savannah slid inside his embrace, settling her bottom on his lap, her head on his shoulder. "How long do we have?"
"Caroline's taking Regina for ice cream and Rory's at Tommy's house." She nibbled on his neck, sending a hot wash through his veins. "An hour. Maybe a little less."
"Are you feeling up to this?" She was four months along and got sick pretty easily still.
She sighed in response.
Sinking his fingers into her hair, he tilted her head where he could reach her mouth. Her plump breasts pressed into his chest. He tugged her skirt to her knee, hoping she'd tell him if she wasn't up to it soon. Because he was up, that's for sure.
“Yes?"
"Yes, Constable. Definitely yes."
"That's my girl," he whispered before claiming her lips. Love poured through him, overwhelming, mind-boggling. "My Irish girl."
* * *
The End
A Note from Tracy Sumner
Soon after the release of Tides of Love, I
began receiving emails asking when Noah Garrett’s older brother, Zachariah, would get his own story.
I had always intended to write Zach’s story, but when I finished Tides of Love and thought to start Tides of Passion, I wasn’t sure who could lure Zach away from his lonely, quite solitary existence. He was committed to being a father but had stated in no uncertain terms that he would never marry again.
And I believed him.
This character was definitely not interested in falling in love. Another hardheaded Garrett!
In an allaboutromance.com review for Tides of Love, someone mentioned that Zach’s love interest would have to be a stranger to Pilot Isle; someone he would have instant, insatiable chemistry with. It was then I recalled a scene at the end of Tides of Love, where Zach is headed to the train station to pick up Elle’s best friend, Savannah Connor.
At that time, I was living in Manhattan, and I understood Savannah (a native New Yorker, as you know) as well as any heroine I have ever written. I loved her strength and her vulnerability—and I realized she would be the perfect match for Zach, a man with a strong sense of decency and loyalty, but also a man who thought he would never find another woman to love.
I loved helping him find out how mistaken he was!
* * *
Happy Reading.
Meet Tracy Sumner
Tracy’s story telling career began when she picked up a copy of LaVyrle Spencer’s Vows on a college beach trip. A journalism degree and a thousand romance novels later, she decided to try her hand at writing a southern version of the perfect love story. With a great deal of luck and more than a bit of perseverance, she sold her first novel to Kensington Publishing.
When not writing sensual stories featuring complex characters and lush settings, Tracy can be found reading romance, snowboarding, watching college football and figuring out how she can get to 100 countries before she kicks. She lives in the South, but after spending a few years in NYC, considers herself a New Yorker at heart.
Tracy has been awarded the National Reader’s Choice, the Write Touch and the Beacon—with finalist nominations in the HOLT Medallion, Heart of Romance, Rising Stars and Reader’s Choice. Her books have been translated into German, Dutch, Portuguese and Spanish. She loves hearing from readers about why she tends to pit her hero and heroine against each other from the very first page or that great romance she simply must read.
Also by Tracy Sumner
Tides of Love
To Seduce a Rogue
To Desire a Scoundrel: A Christmas Seduction
Praise For …
TIDES OF PASSION
Reader's Choice for
Best Long Historical
Beacon for
Best Historical
"A fresh voice in romantic fiction!"
~Affaire de Coeur
"Terrific dialogue... and hot loves scenes. If you haven’t read Tracy Sumner before, Tides of Passion is a good place to start."
~All About Romance
"Delicious and amusing... witty dialogue, sparkling humor and a snappy narrative. A must read!"
~thebestreviews.com
"This novel realizes with a great and witty gusto that independence isn’t so much about being on your own as it is about choosing to be together."
~Romantic Times
TIDES OF LOVE
"I picked up Tides of Love... just to give the book a quick peak. That quick peak turned into four hours of reading that didn’t stop until I finished the book!"
~The Romance Reader
"Descriptive flair... give this one a try!"
~All About Romance
"A powerful relationship novel that explores the heartache and triumph of love."
~Romantic Times
"A beautifully written romance! Sizzling love scenes."
~Reviewer Carol Carter
TO DESIRE A SCOUNDREL
A CHRISTMAS SEDUCTION
"A sexy tale filled with great verbal repartee."
~Romantic Times
"This story packs a lot of heat."
~Reviewer Jill Nicholson
"Sassy dialogue! A charming story."
~Readertoreader.com
"A bad boy... and a lively, independent woman. An excellent sequel!"
~All Romance Bookstore Reviews
Praise for
TO SEDUCE A ROGUE
Reader's Choice Finalist
for Best Historical
Rising Stars Finalist
for Best First Book
* * *
"The battle of the sexes heats up the pages of this fun and fresh romance by talented new writer Tracy Sumner."
~New York Times bestselling author Susan Wiggs
"Well-written, funny and very engaging."
~USA Today bestselling author Pamela Morsi
"Tracy Sumner has created endearing people and a story to match. Engaging, warm and wonderful."
~Romantic Times
"As I began reading this book, I fell in love."
~Affaire de Coeur