Harlequin Superromance February 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: His Forever GirlMoonlight in ParisWife by Design

by Liz Talley

  Palming his cheek, she pressed his face to hers. “I’m never going to get tired of it, either.” As he moved away, she held her arms out to Ollie, who had moved within reach of her, and hugged him across the folding chair. “You said what nobody else could, Ollie. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

  “I only spoke the truth. We’re not made to be perfect. The blessing lies within the fact that we’re loved in spite of our imperfections.”

  “Amen,” she agreed.

  “You have a good man, Faith.”

  She glanced at her husband, who, at the moment, was hugging all three of his children at once. “The best,” she said.

  “Don’t ever forget to tell him that.”

  “I won’t,” she promised.

  And she never did.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  TARA OPENED HER EYES to the bright morning sun. Eighty-nine days.

  “Stop it!” She wrapped the pillow around her head as if that could stifle her thoughts.

  Since the day she’d returned home from Paris, the first thought to pop into her mind every morning was how long it had been since she’d seen Garrett and Dylan.

  It was crazy, but despite her best efforts, she just couldn’t get beyond the man and his little boy. It was like her brain wanted to move on, but her heart remained rooted in the concrete of that terrace in Paris.

  The first couple of weeks after she’d left, Dylan had called every day. But toward the middle of August, his calls became fewer and fewer, eventually dwindling to none. She supposed it was a good sign that she’d been forgotten.

  The pillow made her feel like she was smothering herself. She uncovered her head.

  One day she’d want to date again, and she would allow herself to love someone else.

  Today just wasn’t that day.

  But she did at least have a plan that would keep her busy for the next three days—the annual O’Malley Columbus Day weekend at the cabin.

  She’d stayed up late last night getting all her students’ essays graded, so the entire weekend would be work-free.

  She hurried through breakfast and a shower, anxious to get to the lake, where there would be so much laughter and talk that her mind would have little chance to wander.

  She grabbed her phone on the way out the door, listening to the voice mail from Emma as she walked to the car.

  “Hey, I got booked into a much-needed massage today, but it’s not until eleven. Go on without me. I’ll drive up later.”

  “Darn,” Tara muttered. She’d looked forward to having Emma with her on the drive. She reached over and tuned her radio to a heavy metal station, setting the volume to a few decibels below painful.

  The changing foliage with its stunning array of crisp golds and fiery reds filled the roadside, and she tried to lose herself in the passing images. But her thoughts kept diverting back to Paris and how the city would look in autumn...how much Dylan would have grown...how Garrett’s eyes could set her on fire with a simple glance.

  The cabin came into sight, drawing an audible groan from her. She was the first to arrive. Where was everybody?

  She pulled out her phone and punched her mom’s number. Her mom picked up after just one ring.

  “Morning, Tara,” she said brightly.

  “Hey, Mom, where are you? I’m the first one here.” She unlocked the door and tossed her bag on the floor of the front bedroom.

  “We’re on our way. I took food up yesterday, so everything’s there. Start a pot of coffee, would you?”

  “Okay. See you in a bit.”

  She made coffee the O’Malley way—extra strong. The aroma took her back to mornings in Paris when Garrett would bring her coffee in bed. She sighed and stepped away from the coffeemaker...and the memory.

  A car door slammed, which probably meant either Trent or Thea had arrived. She headed to the front door to greet her sibling, and was barely halfway across the living room when the screen door opened and Garrett stepped in.

  Tara’s brain stalled as her feet came to an abrupt halt. An unseen force knocked the breath from her lungs, and she stood there gaping and mute.

  His hands went to his hips and he filled the doorway, barring escape in that direction if she’d been so inclined, which she wasn’t. “Hi,” he said, and she could read the wariness in his eyes. The scar on his upper lip disappeared as his lips pressed together tightly.

  The momentary numbness passed and feeling rushed back through her extremities. Her first inclination was to run to him, but she held herself motionless.

  “Hi,” she answered. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to talk to you. Can we do that?”

  “I guess so.” She tried to right her world, which had been jerked completely off its axis. “How did you know where I was?”

  His face relaxed enough to allow a small smile. “This weekend has been planned for...well, for a long time. Your dad and I started talking on the phone the week after you left Paris, and your parents invited me here for this weekend.”

  “You came all the way from Paris for the weekend?” And her mom and dad had encouraged that?

  “No.” He shook his head and the smile disappeared. “Look. Can we sit down? I’ll explain everything.”

  His presence filled the room...the whole cabin, and Tara needed fresh air to clear her wobbly thoughts. “Let’s walk down to the lake.” She tilted her head in the direction of the back door. When she moved, he followed, but she noticed he was careful not to touch her. Was that for her benefit or his?

  “You want coffee?” she asked as they passed through the kitchen.

  “Not yet. My heart’s racing enough without it.”

  She smiled at his honesty, knowing exactly how he felt, although she didn’t say so.

  They stepped into the brisk autumn air coming off the lake. Tara breathed it deep into her lungs, hoping it would clear the conflicting emotions this man’s presence caused.

  “Where’s Dylan?” She cast him a sidelong glance, still not trusting a direct eye-to-eye gaze.

  “He’s with your mom and dad. We stayed with them last night.”

  Her parents had invited Garrett and Dylan to stay with them in Taylor’s Grove...and hadn’t called her? Hadn’t warned her they were coming? They knew how heartbroken she was over Garrett. Did they think closure would get her over her depression?

  That brought her around to face him straight on. “Garrett...please tell me what’s going on.”

  His chest heaved as he took a breath, then let it out, and his gaze bored into hers, pinning her to the spot. “Tara,” he said. “I love you.”

  * * *

  IT PROBABLY WASN’T THE best place to start, but it was the truth, and Garrett wanted her to know where he was coming from. No secrets. No ghosts.

  She tilted her head in question and slid her hands into her back pockets—a stance that kept her elbows back and placed her heart right out there. An encouraging sign. “Did Mama and Dad know you were going to say that?”

  He nodded. “They told me that to win your trust, I was just going to have to lay it all out there.”

  “Go on.” She started to gnaw on her bottom lip.

  “After you left, I did some soul-searching, and I realized you were right. You couldn’t trust me. Hell, I couldn’t trust myself. I was afraid. Running away from my past. Running away from Angie. I’d pulled Dylan away from the family he needed...the family who needed him and me...at the time when we all needed each other the most. And I’d done it because I didn’t want to deal with the memories and the guilt.” He paused.

  Her nod was encouraging, but a shrug followed in its wake. “Great. But I’m still not getting it.”

  “Dylan and I moved back to St. Louis last month.”

&
nbsp; An audible gasp rushed from her lungs as her eyes widened.

  “I quit Soulard, sublet the flat and we moved back home. A friend from college had been in contact with me for several years about starting a new marketing firm in St. Louis. I’d always turned him down before, but this time, we decided to go for it.”

  For the first time, he edged closer to her. She didn’t move, but her eyes clouded. “What about Henri?”

  His heart twinged at the mention of his best friend, who he missed like hell. “He wasn’t happy about it, but we both knew it was for the best. We’ll visit.” He held out his hand, and when she placed hers in it, his heart twinged in a different way that he didn’t dare stop to analyze. It felt promising. And, if it wasn’t, he didn’t want to know yet. “I was hoping you and I could do that, too. Take turns visiting on weekends and during school breaks. Dylan and I can come down here. You can come up there. I just want you back in our lives, Tara. We can take it as slow as you want. Or as fast. Just give us a chance.”

  The words had barely left his mouth before she was in his arms. Her hands clasped around his neck and she kissed him with a fervor he hadn’t allowed himself to think about for months.

  “I’m so glad you’re here! I love you, Garrett.” The words poured out, straight from her heart to his. “And I love Dylan. But things happened so fast, and I was so upset and confused. Trust takes time...I learned that from a very wise man. I knew in my heart that I’d screwed up by not giving us the time we needed to work through the trust issue. And I’ve been miserable for the past eighty-nine days because of it.”

  He laughed at her exactness while she laughed and cried at the same time.

  He kissed her again then pulled her to his chest, against his heart. “God, I missed you. Your parents kept telling me you were miserable, but I didn’t think there was any way you could be as miserable as I felt.”

  “At least you had Dylan.” She sniffed. “All I had were memories.” She gave him a squeeze. “But not anymore. I can’t believe you’re here.”

  He kissed the top of her hair where the morning sun was burnishing the copper tresses. “Believe it.”

  She leaned back in his arms and he brushed back the damp hair that had stuck to the tears on her cheeks, brushed the eyebrow ring with his thumb and kissed it.

  “How’d you get my dad’s number?” she asked.

  That brought a chuckle. “As opposed to your other elusive father, Sawyer O’Malley was listed in the online phone book.”

  She narrowed her eyes and gave him a pretend pout. “I don’t know who you’re referring to. I only have one dad.”

  The sound of car doors slamming came from the front of the cabin. She grabbed his hand and took off running in that direction.

  They rounded the corner as Dylan was skipping up the sidewalk, chattering excitedly to Faith and Sawyer.

  “Dylan!” Tara called.

  The unbridled joy on his son’s face when he turned and saw Tara would stay with Garrett for the rest of his life.

  “Tara!” Dylan ran to them, and they swooped him off the ground in an ecstatic, three-way hug.

  Garrett’s arms were full, but his heart was fuller. If he let go of Dylan and Tara right then, he would float away on happiness.

  Over Tara’s head, he watched Sawyer stop and eye them for a moment, then he nodded, and Garrett nodded back.

  The exchange was brief, but its meaning unmistakable.

  Sawyer O’Malley had just given his daughter away.

  EPILOGUE

  June of the following year

  “FAITH, YOU LOOK STUNNING.”

  “Thanks, sweetheart.” She smiled at him, and Garrett watched the soft blush rise from the round neck of her pink dress.

  “And the pink is perfect.” He pointed to the hot pink streak of hair that swept through her bangs.

  She fingered it self-consciously and shrugged. “Hey, this is Paris, right?”

  “I think it’s lovely.”

  Garrett turned at the sound of his mom’s voice as she slid her arm around his waist.

  “And you are a vision of beauty in that blue,” he told her.

  She slapped her chest in mock horror. “Oh God, it’s getting deep, and I’m in open-toed shoes.” She grinned up at him. “But Henri’s shoveling it out more than you are.”

  Over her head, Garrett could see his friend talking with Thea and Emma, most certainly in his element. Garrett had warned Tara that taking Henri up on his offer to have her sister and her best friend stay with him might be a mistake, but she’d insisted everything would be fine with Trent there.

  Garrett sighed. They were all adults, and today, he wasn’t going to worry about anything.

  His phone vibrated and he pulled it out of his pocket and read the text.

  I’m ready (again). I love you.

  He smiled at their private joke. Switching off the phone, he clapped his hands loudly.

  “All right, people. It’s showtime.”

  The few guests took their seats as the wedding party found their places.

  Garrett nodded to the harpist, and she began.

  * * *

  THE STRAINS OF “ODE TO JOY” floated through the open door.

  Tara took a deep breath and gave her dad a smile.

  “Ready to make this official in God’s eyes?” he asked. He was the only one in on the secret that, because of French law, a civil ceremony had already taken place.

  “I’ve never been more ready, Dad.”

  She took the arm he proffered, and they stepped through the door onto the terrace.

  Her eyes locked with Garrett’s, and her heart swelled at the look on his ruggedly handsome face. “I love you,” he mouthed, and she felt her answering smile spread across her face.

  She shifted her eyes to Dylan, who was standing in front of his dad, and kissed the air in his direction. He giggled and blew her a kiss in return. It caught in her throat, lodging on a bubble of joy her heart had released.

  When she reached the wedding party, Emma took her flowers as her dad kissed her on the cheek and then moved to stand beside the French minister.

  Garrett reached for one hand and Dylan for the other, and, as the three of them exchanged their vows, she recalled the first time she’d stood on this terrace during the raging storm.

  She’d sought shelter, and she’d found it in the hearts of these two guys.

  She understood how her dad felt now. Dylan wasn’t hers by blood, but that didn’t make any difference to her heart.

  Garrett was hers, and Dylan was hers.

  They were a family.

  And they would stay a family forever.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from A RANCH TO KEEP by Claire McEwen.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  THE EASTERN SIDE of the Sierra Nevada Mountains was the perfect setting for fleeing a funeral. The high drama of the granite peaks rising abruptly from low, jagged hills, the earthy scent of sagebrush and pine, the open space of the high desert, were naturally suited to thoughts of life and death.

  Grandma Ruth had loved these mountai
ns. She’d lived most of her life in them. Driving down the scenic highway, marveling at each gorgeous view, seemed a much better way to celebrate her life than sitting in a musty Reno funeral chapel. Samantha still wasn’t sure how she’d ended up on this impromptu road trip. One minute she’d been listening to the pastor’s words, and the next an outraged voice was screaming in her head that this service wasn’t doing justice to Ruth. The rote text didn’t describe the loving, vibrant grandmother she knew. Samantha couldn’t stand it anymore, so she’d fled.

  Running away wasn’t like her. Samantha felt her forehead, wondering if she was getting sick. She was known for showing up, helping out and always doing the right thing. But instead she’d abandoned the funeral and then, from the parking lot, called work to let them know she wouldn’t be in today. She’d cancelled all her meetings and now, instead of the many things she should be doing, she was speeding down this scenic highway to the ranch outside of Benson.

  Her ranch. That idea would take some getting used to. Samantha smiled. In the past few years, Grandma Ruth had tried to get her to be more adventurous. Maybe leaving her the ranch was her last attempt to shake her granddaughter up a bit. “Well, Grandma,” Samantha said aloud to the mountains, “you have definitely stirred things up this time.”

  Samantha turned up the volume on her iPod and let the strains of opera soar. Maybe it was melodramatic, but it had seemed like the only music appropriate for the splendor of this drive, the sadness in her heart and the emotion of this homecoming.

  A few tears insisted on rolling down her cheeks. Samantha brushed them off and took a deep breath. All this crying wasn’t her usual style. More evidence that it would do her good to be away for a few days, to see something other than the crowded streets of San Francisco and the busy conference rooms of Taylor Advertising. She pictured the ranch as she remembered it from childhood. It might make her sad to be there without her grandparents, but how amazing to see the ranch again after so many years. Growing up, it was the closest thing to a home Samantha had known.