“What the hell are you talking about, Justin? Thanks to you ripping up the divorce papers, we are still married.”
“I know. I know,” Justin said in a calming voice, his hand extended in a gesture calculated to soothe but producing the opposite result. She was so tired of the games and drama.
“No, you don’t know anything,” she said through gritted teeth. “We made a mistake and now we can fix it. You don’t want me, you just don’t like losing. You don’t like the fact that your family was right about us. Let it go, Justin. Let me go.” She swallowed hard, stifling the emotions that pressed against her chest bone and shot pain up and down her body. “I need to go. I stayed too long.”
“No. Sarina. You need to stay. With me.” Justin reduced the distance between them a little more; now he was close enough for her to see the deep brown of his eyes, smell the smoky citrus of his cologne. “I told my family everything. I told them that I don’t want a divorce and that marrying you was the best thing I’d ever done in my life. I told them that I love you and that you are my life. They are warming up to the idea and they’ll get there eventually. Or not.” He shrugged. “But you have to know, Sarina, I would have walked away from all of them and straight to you if they had refused to accept us. I choose you. Every time.”
“What about Aerospace Link and the tabloid story?”
“I told the Aerospace Link people everything. They are completely on board and they won’t care about the story because they know the truth. But even if they didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. I choose you, Sarina. Every. Single. Time.”
Oh damn. He was close enough for her to reach out to him. If she did that he’d pull her into his arms and kiss her and make her feel like she was finally in a place where she belonged. A place where she was wanted. A place where she was the chosen one.
If she kept listening, he’d convince her to stay.
But she couldn’t stay. Staying meant giving other people the option to tell her she didn’t belong or to move on without her. She needed to go. Now.
So why couldn’t she move?
Justin took her hesitation as all the permission he needed to continue. “Sarina, baby, marry me. Again. For real this time. Marry me with our eyes wide open. Marry me knowing all of my faults. Marry me in spite of my fear of heights, my meddling grandmother and my love of poker.” Justin took two steps forward, lifting his hand to cover his heart. “Marry me because you make me feel like I’m good enough for the first time in my life. Marry me because you make me want to be a better person. Marry me and let me love you. Marry me and be my family and I swear I will always be yours.”
Sarina closed her eyes, trying to erase the echo of his words in her brain and the bubbling joy running though her veins. She just needed to go. She needed to grab Wilma and get on her bike and keep moving until she was free again.
“Justin,” she said, opening her eyes and looking at him head-on. She cringed at the wobble in her voice, clearing her throat quickly in an attempt to cover up just how hard this was for her. She loved him. She just couldn’t stay. “I have to go. You know that.”
“You want to keep running, Sarina?” Justin asked, his eyes searching her face.
Okay. Truth time. “I don’t know how to stop, Justin. If I stop...”
She searched for the words to explain the panic and fear that washed over her. Justin closed the distance between them completely, raising his hands to cup her face. His eyes were focused on hers and then he smiled. That ridiculously wolfish grin that lit up his whole face and made her feel like she was the center of his world. That grin promised excitement and joy and laughter and acceptance.
Justin saw her. Fears and all. Prickly defense mechanisms and all. Scars and all.
“Sarina, baby, I’m not asking you to stop running. I’m just asking that you run to me.” He leaned in and brushed a kiss across her mouth. “I love you, Sarina. Run to me. I promise you I’ll always be here.”
Sarina reached for him, her arms wrapping around his waist as she leaned up into his kiss. Justin hesitated for the briefest moment and then he slanted his mouth over hers, deepening the kiss with a groan. His hands slid from her face into her hair and the tug to give him better access was possessive and hot. Justin tasted like sin and safety, danger and homecoming.
He was her home. She’d found it in his arms and she’d never let him go.
Justin broke off the kiss and smiled at her as he released her. She protested the separation but her frustration turned to confusion as he dug around in his pocket, withdrew a small box and then dropped to one knee at her feet. Around them the crowd stirred into a wave of murmurs and gasps of surprise, and more than one cell phone was lifted and pointed in their direction. Sarina didn’t care; she was laser-focused on Justin.
And he was focused on her.
“We didn’t get to do this the traditional way the first time. I won’t say that we did it wrong because it brought us together. So it was perfect. But I want to leave no doubt in anyone’s mind that you are the one that I choose and the one I love.” Justin opened the box and removed the ring, a square-cut sapphire surrounded by diamonds, reached out and took her hand and placed it on her finger. It was heavy but in all the best ways possible. “Sarina Redhawk, will you marry me?”
She was scared, terrified. But for the first time in her life she was more afraid of letting someone go without a fight. One word was all that was needed to take the leap and have a shot at the dreams she’d given up on a long time ago. This man was worth the risk. His love was worth the risk.
“Yes.”
“Thank you.” Justin rose to his feet and pulled her back in his arms, the kiss passionate and filled with laughter. He nodded at the crowd surrounding them, waving to those who held their phones up to film the proposal. Wilma barked and jumped around at their feet, wagging her tail in excitement. “I love you, Sarina Redhawk.”
“It’s Sarina Redhawk Ling,” she answered, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I love you, too.”
“Let’s go home,” Justin said, holding her hand as they navigated the crowd on the Skywalk. It was slow going, with everyone congratulating them and bending over to pet Wilma. “Fair warning. Nana Orla wants a wedding. She said that we couldn’t come home if we didn’t agree to have another wedding.”
Sarina laughed, looking forward to a life with Justin. It would never be boring. “I can do a wedding. But not in Vegas. This time we do it right.”
Epilogue
One month later
He’d marry her a million times over. Anywhere she wanted.
Sarina had looked beyond stunning when she’d walked down the aisle toward him just a few hours earlier. Wearing a white jumpsuit with full legs, a halter-style top with a plunging neckline, and a transparent, filmy train attached to the waist, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He couldn’t say that she was breathtaking because his every inhale and exhale, every heartbeat—they were for Sarina. Hell, the reason he got up every morning and hurried home each night was because of her. His wife.
Nana Orla had taken over the planning of the wedding, running everyone and everything in her orbit with a precision that rivaled the military. Now Adam wanted to hire her to head up their project management division at Redhawk/Ling. Justin was all for it if it would stop her from making a plea for another great-grandchild at every opportunity. He wanted a family with Sarina, wanted to build with her a life where their children knew they were loved and were always enough. But they had time. A lifetime together to make those dreams come true.
And today they were surrounded by two hundred of their friends and family, on the grounds of his family home.
“Nana Orla sure knows how to throw a party. This is amazing,” Adam said, easing up beside him and handing him a beer. It was pretty epic and the hottest invitation of the year. Justin’s only requirement was that the wedding not be held in
a stuffy hotel, so their two hundred guests were gathered under several tents, with the entire lawn and pool area covered in white roses and lilies. The best catering in Silicon Valley and a live band at the reception ensured that everybody on the guest list was having a good time. Socialites and business colleagues mixed and mingled with a few of the kids from the Rise Up Center and some of Sarina’s army buddies. Even Wilma was dressed to the doggy nines in a Chihuahua-sized tux jacket and rhinestone collar.
Roan eased up next to the two of them, saluting them both with his drink. “I need to hire Nana Orla to handle my next gallery show. She’s incredible.”
“We couldn’t have done this without her. And I was determined to make it official again with your sister as soon as I could.” Justin turned and tapped his beer bottle against the one held by both his best friend and brother-in-law. They were family now. For real. “Thanks for pulling double duty today, brother.”
“You bet,” Adam laughed, wearing the light gray linen suit Justin had chosen for the wedding. “How many times has the best man also given away the bride?”
“It meant a lot to Sarina that you two were here to walk her down the aisle,” Justin shared, knowing that it was a significant step for the Redhawk family to take together. Everything wasn’t settled between them but they were all trying to replace the hard memories and the loss with new ones of love, and fun, and being together. Justin threw an arm around Adam’s shoulders. “The next big event will be when your son makes an appearance. I can’t believe you’re going to be a daddy.”
“I know, man. But I’m ready.” Adam flashed the smile of a man who was happy and content as he looked over at where the bride stood with Tess. She was radiant in a gray silk dress, cut to highlight her pregnant belly. Sarina had been anxious to have Tess stand up with her at the wedding, given that there were just a few weeks left before her due date. All in all, it had been a family affair. “Are you two ready to be godfathers?”
Justin snorted out a laugh and shook his head, humbled by the request. “I hope you know that Sarina is the adult in this equation. I’m on tap to take him to get his first tattoo and pick up girls.”
“Or boys,” Roan added, winking at the two of them. “Why should he have to choose?”
“Truer words have never been spoken,” Justin agreed, and Adam nodded his head in assent.
“I have to go to Washington, DC, next week but I’ll be back in time to meet the newest Redhawk,” Roan said, his smile definitely the one worn by the cat that ate the canary. “I’ve been summoned to the White House by President Irons to paint the official portrait of his daughter.”
“Whoa. That’s huge, little brother,” Adam crowed, drawing the attention of several nearby guests. “How did you score that job?”
“How did you ever get cleared by the Secret Service?” Justin asked, acknowledging the raised middle finger of his brother-in-law with the salute of his beer bottle.
“President Irons is the first Native American president and he’s determined to represent,” Roan explained, flashing a shit-eating grin that made them all laugh. “And he picked the best of the bunch.”
“And that’s you?” Justin teased, unable to resist.
“Yeah, that’s me,” Roan answered, giving them both a big wink.
“Well done, Roan.” Justin placed his beer bottle on a nearby table and patted both of the men on the back. “Gentlemen, I’m going to dance with my wife.”
He waved off their teasing farewells, making a short detour to the band and putting in a request before sauntering over to where Sarina chatted with Nana Orla and Tess. He eased up behind her and looped his right arm around her waist, placing a kiss on the soft skin of her shoulder. She leaned back into him, her fingers linking with his as they molded their bodies together. It was like he could only take a full breath when he was with her, like he only stood as a complete man when she was by his side. How had he thought he was living all those years before Sarina?
“Nana Orla, can I steal my wife for a dance?” he asked, smiling down at the woman who’d given a home to Sarina when she needed it the most. If he hadn’t already loved his grandmother beyond reason, that would have sealed the deal.
Orla nodded, smiling at both of them as she reached up and placed a hand on his cheek. “Of course, my love. Go and dance with your best girl.”
He shook his head. “Sarina and I agreed—she’s the love of my life but you’ll always be my best girl.”
“Flatterer.”
“It’s not flattery if it’s true.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek and reached a hand out to his wife, still in awe that she was really his. “Sarina, dance with me?”
She smiled, an expression that lit up her entire face and made her dark eyes shine like onyx. Her raven-black hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, diamond earrings sparkling in her ears. A gift from his parents, they were a peace offering. It wasn’t a perfect fix but it was a start.
“Forever,” she murmured, stepping into his arms as the band started the slow-dance version of “Just One Look.” The recognition of the song fueled joy on her face. They’d collaborated on a playlist but he’d secretly added all of her favorite Linda Ronstadt songs as a surprise. “Thank you for this.”
“I wanted your mom—both of your parents—to be here with you today.” Justin leaned in to press a kiss to the end of her nose, pretending not to see the sheen of tears in her eyes. “I know you wish they could be here.”
“They’re here, Justin,” Sarina said, conviction in her voice. “I’ve felt them with me all day. How could they not be here when I’m so happy?”
“I promise you that I will spend the rest of my life making sure you’re this happy every day,” Justin said, soaking in her smile. “I love you, Sarina.”
“I love you too, Justin.” Sarina kissed him, long and sweet, the smile on her mouth a promise of forever. “Thank you for loving me, for being my family.”
* * *
If you loved Justin and Sarina’s story
you won’t want to miss Roan’s!
Coming soon
from USA TODAY bestselling author
Robin Covington
and Harlequin Desire!
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Twice the Temptation
by Silver James
One
Cooper Tate was a man comfortable in his own skin. He might be the chief operating officer of a billion-dollar oil and gas company, but he was far more likely to be found in jeans and a T-shirt working alongside his crews in the oil patch than in the boardroom. He left the fancy duds to his cousin, Cord Barron, the CEO of Barron Explorations. To Coop’s mind, the key word in his COO title was Operations. If he couldn’t do all that stuff out in the field, he shouldn’t be the one in charge.
Now, as the winds of a Category 4 hurricane roared around him, he might have to rethink that stance. Living in Oklahoma, he was used to the wind sweeping down the plains, but this? He’d take a tornado over a hurricane any time.
The huge crew-cab he drove shuddered under the wind’s onslaught. The windshield wipers couldn’t keep up with the downpour. Two more miles. He only had two more miles before reaching the Beaumont field office of BarEx. He’d be safe from the storm there. He hoped.
After what seemed like a century, but in reality was only about twenty minutes, Coop pulled into the parking lot. The building was the only one with lights, which meant the emergency generator had kicked on when the area lost power. After a series of
strong hurricanes, Cord had rebuilt the field offices all along the Gulf Coast. All of them were supposed to stand up to a Category 5 hurricane. All of them had emergency generators that ran on natural gas straight from the company’s own pipelines. He’d tried to convince the skeleton crew that stuck around to help him shut down the rigs to stay at the office but they’d all gone to their own homes, wanting to protect their families and property.
He caught a break in the rainbands and used it to lock up his truck and dash around the building. All the hurricane shutters were secure. The roof looked intact, and all the outbuildings appeared to be holding their own. He was as secure as he could be until Lolita decided she’d had enough of south Texas and moved on. Locking and bolting the main door, he settled in for a long, lonely wait. Yeah, he was a wuss. Storms weren’t his thing. Never had been, not since he was caught out in a severe thunderstorm that turned tornadic when he was a kid.
Pushing that memory to the back of his mind, Coop checked the interior. Supplies lined the walls of the workshop, all up on stacked pallets just in case floodwaters breached the outer doors. The refrigerator hummed along nicely, and all the lights worked, along with the microwave, industrial-size coffeemaker, and the small gas range in the kitchenette adjacent to the break room. He started a pot of coffee and snagged a cold bottle of water from the fridge. Dropping onto a couch, he clicked on the big-screen TV mounted to the wall.
All the local and cable news channels were running wall-to-wall storm coverage. He considered shoving a DVD into the player or checking one of the cable movie channels but stopped when one of the reports focused on Beaumont.
“Water continues to rise—” Wind whipped the reporter’s words away as he leaned into the gale. “Expecting hundreds of rescues—” The picture froze, then pixelated before the telecast returned to the in-studio hosts. “We’ve lost our feed...”
Hundreds of rescues? That would depend on a lot of factors. Would levees hold? Had people evacuated? He doubted many of them had. Lolita’s path had wobbled and then made a hard right, heading straight for Beaumont, instead of farther down the coast around Houston. Houston had been ready, mandatory evacuations in force for days. Beaumont? Not so much. Most people were probably sheltering in place. Some might have made it to one of the approved shelters. He hoped there weren’t many who’d been caught in the inevitable traffic jams headed out of town. With only one interstate, and that one running basically east and west, there weren’t many ways out. Plus, a lot of the evacuees from Houston had come to Beaumont.
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