by Serena Bell
Later, his arm tight around her, she said, “You still didn’t explain about the scarf. I get all the rest of it. But not the scarf.”
As they lay there quietly together, he told her all the stories of the last couple of weeks. What it had been like to see Jim doing his job, the Olympic champion of hardware-store ownership and unexpected fatherhood tinged with tragedy. How Nate had given the kayaking trip back to Jim and Braden, whose trip it always should have been. How he’d gotten the oxy prescription and kept it in his pocket. What Suzy had said to him at the dinner table, about living the life he was meant to live.
About how he had gotten up from the table, his hand in his pocket, and gone to the bathroom. Broken the seal, opened the bottle, dumped the pills into the toilet. Flushed and walked away without looking back.
She just grinned at that, and nodded. Like, Of course you did. I never had any doubt.
And he told her the other stories, too. The smaller ones he’d wanted to be able to tell her as they happened. Including the customer arguing passionately (and incorrectly) about the male and female hose ends.
She laughed out loud, and man, that was what life was about. Making Alia laugh.
Finally, he told her the scarf story. The poor misguided bastard with his horrible scarf choice, and how it had turned out, after all, that the scarf had been an act of love and understanding. And how much Nate had wanted to tell Alia. How much he’d wanted to tell her—
He hesitated. It felt like a lot. Maybe too much.
“No hiding,” she said.
He nodded. “No hiding,” he agreed.
So he told her. How he’d thought about there being another guy someday, that guy and Alia grown old together, and how that guy would be the one to give her the scarf, and how Nate couldn’t stand it because he knew no one would ever do as good a job of knowing her as he could do. As he wanted to do.
“Oh,” she said, the same sort of pleasure and surprise in her voice that had been in it when he’d unexpectedly made her come. “Well. I don’t want anyone else to know me like you do.”
“And then it seemed obvious that I needed to send the care package.”
“You mean after you got my letter.”
“No. I sent the care package before I got your letter.”
She wrinkled up her nose, looking adorably confused. “But you said after you read my letter you realized—”
“I realized I was hiding,” he clarified. “I’d already realized I wanted to send the care package.”
“But I hadn’t said! That I wanted you to love me.”
He crossed his arms and gazed at her sternly. “I didn’t feel like I needed your permission.” Then his face softened and he smoothed her hair off her forehead and kissed her nose. “I was planning to love you whether you wanted me to or not.”
“Huh,” she said thoughtfully. “So—you don’t want me to tell you, extensively, just exactly how much I want you to love me, and specifically, how?”
“Oh,” he murmured, smoothing the tip of his tongue along the seam of her lips, then pulling back to let her see his eyes. “No, I wouldn’t say that. I wouldn’t say that at all. Do your worst.”
And she did.
Epilogue
Pain to Peace was having its grand-opening celebration. The spacious offices, with their sunny (by Seattle standards) studios—perfect for Pilates, yoga, and meditation—were filled with doctors, nurses, Jake’s VA contacts, former and current clients, friends, and family. Also cookies—both Suzy’s homemade and Cow Chip.
The last year had been the most wonderful—and stressful—of Alia’s life. Meetings with banks’ small-business loan officers and private investors, scoping out neighborhoods, innumerable walk-throughs with realtors, finally choosing the space she loved so much—and then working with architects, contractors, equipment suppliers.
There had been many setbacks, like the days when she’d despaired of ever finding the right space. When she’d been knee deep in financing, trying to make the numbers add up. When the manufacturer of the Allegro machines ceased production without delivering Alia’s order. When the hardwood floors in the studios had been finished a much darker color than Alia had requested.
But there had been many wonderful moments, too. The day she’d convinced the best acupuncturist in Seattle to join forces with her. The day her own primary-care doc had called her out of the blue to say he’d heard rumors of her plan, and when would she start taking referrals? The day she’d hired the hilarious massage therapist who was currently plowing through her third Cow Chip cookie and looking like she’d discovered nirvana.
The small revelations, too—walls coming down, walls going up, the offices taking shape.
And through it all, Nate working across from her in the small home office they’d made in the second bedroom of the apartment they’d rented together. Nate chasing after financing for his own youth college-prep and scholarship project, the two of them sharing the ups and downs of real estate transactions, griping late into the night about contracting woes.
With frequent breaks. Frequent naughty breaks.
Sharing a home office wasn’t always the best way to ensure productivity…
Nate’s project was still in the late construction phases, his own launch party still weeks away, but that hadn’t diminished the joy he took in the culmination of her efforts. He stood across the room, smiling at her, his eyes tracking her affectionately as she accepted congratulations and hugs, as she networked with her new colleagues and potential clients.
Mira and Jake leaned against a far wall—Jake, who’d been nothing but openly thrilled for her, both about the happily-ever-after that she and Nate were pursuing and the business she’d ditched him for. Now that was a good boss.
Suzy and Jim stood chatting with one of the equipment vendors. Jim was probably trying to work out whether he could start stocking exercise equipment in his shop. A new Walmart up the street had only increased traffic to the ever-thriving store, though Jim sometimes griped, on the occasions when Nate and Alia visited them and scarfed up Suzy’s home cooking, that there were too many strangers coming into the store these days.
But Alia secretly suspected he was full of it. That he loved the new faces and their endless questions and crazy projects—which had prompted Jim to start a whole arts-and-crafts section to cater to the mom-and-kids set that stopped in on their way to Walmart, just in case.
Mira and Jake’s son, Sam—lean, earnest, and in possession of an intense blue-gray gaze he’d inherited from his dad—had taken Braden under his wing and they were bulking up—Sam’s phrase—on the Reformer. Becca was keeping a watchful eye on them. “They’re good boys, but those are seriously expensive machines and the last thing you need is to have to repair one the day before you open for business.” Becca was fulfilling her promise to take care of her sister and frequently checked in to make sure Alia had paused between Pain to Peace–related tasks to eat three meals a day. When Alia protested at Becca’s solicitousness, Becca reminded her, “I would probably have wasted away in high school if you hadn’t made me eat.”
Fair was fair, Alia had to admit. She ate what Becca served her.
“Hey,” a voice said in Alia’s ear, deep and familiar.
“Hey yourself.” She leaned back against him, resting her head against his broad chest, sighing as he slipped his fingers between hers. It felt good, him solid behind her, backing her up, when she was tired and grumpy—and when she was ready to celebrate. In the last year, she’d learned so much about the man he was—always there for her at her worst and best moments, and all the ones in between, but also instinctively knowing when she needed to do something herself. In their few buoyant, blissful days at R&R, it would have been difficult for her to imagine that she could love him more than she already did, or that working hard together to build their businesses from scratch would be every bit as satisfying as the fun and games they’d gotten up to while hiding from themselves and the world—but it had prov
en to be true.
“Quite a party.”
She smiled up at him. He looked back down at her with an expression she recognized well. “Dragging on too long for your tastes, huh?”
“I just think there are better ways to celebrate,” he murmured against her ear.
The soft shift of his breath over her skin had its intended effect, and she took a small step back, then caught herself and put a little more space between them. After all, all eyes were on her.
“Later.” The word touched the curve of her ear and made her shiver.
The Cow Chip cookies were still piled high, but guests were stopping by to congratulate her and thank her and say goodbye. She figured in an hour or so they’d be alone in the office—after they shooed out their most loyal friends and family, of course.
“Promise?” she asked coyly.
He moved closer to her, let her feel how solidly she could count on his promise.
“It’s your office,” he said, and when she tipped her face up to look at his, his eyes were full of that dark intent. “You’re allowed a happy ending.”
For Robin, Jess, Lindsay, and Janette, my healers. Thank you.
Acknowledgments
Some books require a little—or a lot—more TLC than others, and this was one of them. Which means the people who saved my sanity get extra lovin’ this time around. Huge thank-yous to:
All my beloved Bells, but especially Avery, who told me before I wrote the rough draft that I had the heroine wrong. Bird, next time I’ll listen the first time!
Sarah and Jesse Rieth, my patient and wonderful consultants on army matters. Any and all errors, as well as imaginative flights of fancy and deliberate deviations from reality, are mine and mine alone.
Readers Amber Belldene, Lauren Layne, and Audra North, for figuring out how to translate my “I know something isn’t quite working but I’m not sure what it is…” into great revision advice.
Cheryl Cain, for the breakthrough conversation, in which, among other things, she reassured me that the parts really did fit together.
Susan Grimshaw, my wonderful Loveswept editor, for letting me run and reigning me in, in perfect proportions; and the terrific Loveswept team, visible and invisible, especially Lynn Andreozzi, for the amazing cover.
Samantha Hunter, one of my most steadfast and loving critique partners, who had the wisdom to see the story hiding under the story and the honesty to tell me it wasn’t on the page yet.
Darya Swingle, for the problem-solving walk and for jollying me out of my book-induced moodiness.
Emily Sylvan Kim, my agent at Prospect Agency, who somehow always has time for brainstorming, and who saw what was best in the book; and the rest of the Prospect team.
Charli Teglia, for bearing with me every step of the way. And I do mean every step. If you see her, give her chocolate and take her on a nice walk.
BY SERENA BELL
After Midnight (novella)
Yours to Keep
Hold on Tight
Turn Up the Heat
Can’t Hold Back
To Have and to Hold (coming soon)
PHOTO: © SUSAN YOUNG PHOTOGRAPHY
USA Today bestselling author SERENA BELL writes richly emotional stories about big-hearted heroes with real troubles and the heroines who are strong and generous enough to love them.
Serena spent many years as a journalist, where she shadowed and wrote about a cast of fascinating real-life characters. But she always secretly wished to give everyone a happily-ever-after, so now she invents her own characters and dreams up joyful endings. The research skills from journalism still come in handy.
Serena loves to embrace new hobbies and has at various times enjoyed bird watching, backpacking, violin, Ultimate Frisbee, skiing, tennis, ice skating, dance, needlepoint, kayaking, paddleboarding, meditating, and swimming laps—to name just a few.
Her supportive husband lovingly accepts each new hobby and all the equipment it requires, and her two school-aged children provide opportunities to explore new activities, like coaching basketball and remembering just how much math she’s forgotten.
serenabell.com
Facebook.com/serenabellbooks
@serenabellbooks
Sign up for my newsletter at
serenabell.com/newsletter/
The Editor’s Corner
Happy Holidays from our hearth to yours! This month we’re sending you some hot Loveswept romances to keep the fire burning:
USA Today bestselling author Bronwen Evans’s new Disgraced Lords novel is about a marriage of convenience and its delightful pleasures—and mortal danger in A Whisper of Desire. K. J. Charles turns up the heat in her new Society of Gentlemen novel, A Seditious Affair, as two lovers face off in a sensual duel that challenges their deepest beliefs. Samantha Kane’s Birmingham Rebels series proves that three’s never a crowd…at least not for the hard-bodied football all-stars who give teamwork a sexy twist in Calling the Play. Welcome to Forever, new from author Annie Rains, introduces a small coastal town where America’s best and brightest risk everything for love. Jackie Ashenden ups the ante in the seductive Deacons of Bourbon Street series, co-written with Megan Crane, Rachael Johns, and Maisey Yates, with Hold Me Down, a story about what happens when the biker who broke Alice’s heart rides into town, and she must choose between passion and duty. Another story for MC fans is Violetta Rand’s irresistible novel about a sexy-as-sin biker who tempts a good girl to go bad, Persuasion.
In USA Today bestselling author Tina Wainscott’s gritty, emotional small-town romance Falling Hard, passions run high as a reformed bad boy reconnects with an old enemy…and gets her engine revving. In Laura Marie Altom’s tale of forbidden love, Stepping Over the Line, meet two tortured souls with an unbreakable bond. Then comes a tender military romance from Serena Bell, USA Today bestselling author of Hold on Tight, in which a war-shattered veteran gets a second chance at love with the one that got away in Can’t Hold Back.
Writing duo MJ Fields and Chelsea Camaron release another sizzling-hot Caldwell Brothers story—Morrison, which hits the Vegas strip as a bad-boy gambler from Detroit Rock City shows a single mom what it means to play for keeps. Then it’s off to Los Angeles where Hollywood’s hottest young actor hits the road to chase his big break—and discovers a leading lady where he least expects in Cassie Mae’s No Interest in Love.
I can’t believe 2016 is upon us, can you? Thank you for spending your reading time with Loveswept, and we hope to entertain you all over again in the new year.
Happy Romance!
Gina Wachtel
Associate Publisher
Read on for an excerpt from
To Have and to Hold
A Returning Home Novel
by Serena Bell
Available from Loveswept
Prologue
ONE YEAR AGO
Hunter Cross made Trina Levine laugh at the most inopportune moment, and her orgasm, which had been building for what felt like hours, broke up and drifted apart the way the colors of the clouds do once the sun has dipped below the horizon. But she didn’t care, because it was so good to laugh with him, so good to be with him, lying on a blanket on a soft bed of pine needles in the woods.
“I’ve never done it outside before,” she confessed, her cheek secure in the dip between the cap of his shoulder and the hard curve of his pec, a space just for her. Both of them were breathing hard, and his face, when she snuck a look at it, was as relaxed as she’d ever seen it, a soft, secret smile tugging up the corners of his mouth.
His arms tightened around her. “Me neither.”
She could have said so many other things. I’ve never laughed like this before. I’ve never come like this before. I’ve never felt like this before. But she held back the words—even though she hadn’t held back, not even a little, during their lovemaking. Because it was the night before he was going to leave and because she didn’t know for sure yet if he felt the same way, and because it seemed l
ike a lot to put on an evening that was already so full.
It had been the best kind of comedy of errors. They had each wanted to surprise the other, so both—without consulting—had hired babysitters, bought flowers, made dinner reservations.
Booked a hotel room.
And in the end, two sets of hotel reservations had gone unused because a hotel room didn’t feel big enough to contain what they were feeling, so they’d hiked to a spot he knew, a secret spot, and here they were.
“Trina.”
Her heart, which was still pounding from the sustained intensity of their lovemaking, from the shock and power of her orgasm, from laughter, sped up. He sounded so—serious.
“I’ve fallen in love with you.”
A wave of warmth and happiness swept over her. She’d been thinking it for days, the words wanting to burst out at all kinds of crazy moments. Making dinner together in his kitchen, shopping for the girls’ back-to-school clothes. At the Woodland Park Zoo as they’d stood back and watched the girls try to get a hippo’s attention. He’d reached for her hand and she’d felt the purest kind of contentment. Family, she’d thought. And then been a little afraid, because she wanted it so much. But happy, too, because no matter what happened next, this was a perfect moment.
“I’ve fallen in love with you, too.”
The best things happened so fast. Eight weeks ago, they’d been friends. Not even particularly close friends. Just adults thrown together by circumstance, in this case, the bond between their daughters. Their daughters had been best friends since third grade, but even after Hunter’s wife had been killed in action three years ago, Clara had been primarily in her grandmother’s care, and Hunter had been just a dad who sometimes dropped off and picked up his daughter with a smile and a hug.