by Maisey Yates
But she was choosing Walker and Kayla. She wasn’t going to stay with them out of duty, like her grandmother. And she would never leave, like her own mother had done. Like Walker’s first wife had done. She just had to trust that love would cover all the things she didn’t know how to do. That love would fill in all the gaps.
“I don’t think the problem was you, Walker.”
“But if it was?”
“Then we have time to find out. And if I have a problem, I’ll tell you. Because I’m going to fight for us. For this. I’ve never have a boyfriend before. I might be a terrible girlfriend. And pretty much everything I’m about to say . . . well, I’m just making crud up. But it’s crud I believe in. Everything worth having is worth a fight. Is worth tears. And dammit, man, I’ve shed buckets these past few days. It’s worth pain, and fighting, because the good stuff is better than all of that. Because love is better than all of that. Love is worth staying for.”
“Your love is,” he said, pulling her against him and kissing her. Hard. Deep. Filled with emotion. This wasn’t simple lust. It wasn’t the promise of a one-night stand. It was so much more. They parted and he rested his forehead against hers. “Yeah, Sarah, your love is better.”
“Walker . . . I can’t even begin to tell you what you mean to me. What you’ve changed in my life.”
“You changed your life, Sarah, not me.”
“Maybe. But you’re the best thing to come from the change.”
“So are you willing to take a chance on me? Even if I’m not perfect?”
“Are you willing to sleep with me even when I’m in granny panties?”
He kissed her again. “No question.”
“Then yes, Walker. Yes, I will take you. Imperfections and all. And it won’t be a hardship. Do you know why?”
“Why?” he whispered, his lips against hers.
“Because your imperfections fit mine just right.”
“Well, Merry Christmas to me,” he said.
“Not just yet,” she said, extricating herself from his hold. “I have a tree lighting to finish.”
“And after that you’re coming home with me. And staying the night.”
Her heart fluttered. Honest to goodness, it fluttered. “Really? All night?”
“Well, we need you there Christmas morning.”
Her cheeks warmed, in spite of the cold air. “Oh.”
“And the next morning. And next night, and . . . You get the idea.”
Sarah reached over to the table next to them and grabbed a Styrofoam cup fill with hot chocolate. “Here,” she said, handing it to him, “you deserve cocoa.”
A smile curved his lips. “I gave her my heart, she gave me a cocoa.”
“And my heart.”
“That makes it better.” Walker leaned in and dropped a kiss onto her lips, his smile turning wicked. “I guarantee that you’ll be my very favorite present I unwrap this year.”
She laughed. “Oh, the feeling is definitely mutual.”
Epilogue
It had been a beautiful wedding. Carly had been radiant, Lucas the most glowing groom on record. Lucy and Mac had gotten engaged just before it started and Sarah and her friend had spent the first half of the reception gazing at her ring and talking about wedding venues.
Until Mac stole Lucy for a dance, anyway.
Sarah sighed and sat back down at her table, watching Kayla run barefoot in the grass with the other kids, her smile a mile wide.
The past six months had been the most blissful of her life. She’d gone from having never told anyone she loved them to telling two people she loved them every day. Life with Walker and Kayla was more than she’d ever dared to hope for, more than she’d ever known she could have.
At first, her relationship with Walker had been the subject of some serious gossip, but it hadn’t bothered Sarah at all. Quite the contrary, she had reveled in the fact that Silver Creek’s least scandalous resident had finally made waves.
After a lifetime of good behavior, she’d been due.
Walker came to the table, all dressed in black, a glass of punch in his hand.
“Why don’t you sit?” she asked.
“Maybe in a second,” he said. “I was thinking.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Hey, I’m serious.”
She laughed. “So was I.”
“I’ve been a bad influence on you,” he said.
“That’s for sure.”
“And you’ve been a good influence on me.”
“I’ve tried.”
“You’ve succeeded. And it’s not only me; it’s Kayla. Your presence . . . your love and support has meant everything to her. I’ll never forget the terror on her face that day I was late to the school. She was so afraid of loss, afraid of things a child shouldn’t ever have to think about. But you’ve replaced that fear with so much love. You’ve changed both of our lives. You’ve changed us.”
She smiled up at him. “Oh, Walker. No more than you’ve changed me.”
“Sarah, you complete my family. Because we’re so different, but like you said at Christmas, our imperfections seem to fit just right.”
Sarah’s throat tightened, emotion overwhelming her. “You’re going to make me weepy in front of everyone. Why don’t you sit? We’ll have a drink.”
“All things considered,” he said, “I’d rather kneel.” He got down on one knee in front of her and her heart stopped for a second. “Damn Mac stole my thunder.”
She put her hand over her mouth. “No,” she said, talking through her fingers. “He didn’t, Walker. He really didn’t.”
“You haven’t seen the ring yet.”
“I don’t need to see the ring to know that. To know my answer. I only need to see the man.”
Walker swallowed, his dark eyes glistening. “And what is your answer?”
“Yes.”
If you enjoyed this story, please consider leaving a review at Goodreads or any reader site or blog you frequent.
Read on for a special excerpt from another Silver Creek romance by Maisey Yates
UNBROKEN
Available now from Berkley Sensation
“It’s bad form to get drunk at your sister’s wedding, right?”
“Since when has that ever stopped you, Cade?”
Amber Jameson leaned back in the folding chair and then checked to make sure the little purple bow tied to the back hadn’t fallen off and onto the grass. She’d spent too many damn hours tying those things on yesterday.
They were finicky. Finicky flipping ribbons. Almost as finicky as the bride, who, while cute as a button under normal circumstances, had had a bridezilla flare-up while they’d been decorating yesterday, turning Elk Haven Stables into a country-fairy-princess dream, and had gone around micromanaging said ribbon-tying.
And placement.
She’d demanded ribbon curls in lengths that were impossible for mere mortals to achieve. If Lark weren’t the little sister Amber had always wanted, she would never have gone along with all of it. Not without attacking her with the scissors she was using to curl ribbons, at least.
But then, Lark’s life had been short on frills. Being that she had been raised by two brothers and a dad. So Amber supposed she was entitled.
But then, Amber’s life had been short on this kind of thing too, and she didn’t feel at all yearny for it. Nope. Marriage and men and bleah. Not her thing. Not these days.
“It doesn’t usually,” Cade said, leaning back in his chair so that they were sitting at the same angle. “But I thought, since this is for Lark, maybe I should behave.”
She looked at her friend’s profile. Strong, handsome. Square jaw, roughened with dark stubble. Brown eyes that always had a glint of naughty in them. And today, he was wearing a suit jacket and a tie, along with a black cowboy hat.
Damn, damn, damn, he was fine. Sometimes it hit her, like a shit-ton of bricks, that her best friend was the best-looking guy in a five-hundred-mile radius. Or possibly
the world. And it made her feel . . . things she didn’t want to feel.
Then he turned to face her head-on and offered her his very best smart-ass Cade smile, and the moment faded out as soon as it hit. Like driving on one of Silver Creek’s fir-lined highways and seeing a sunbeam peek through the trees. A brilliant shaft of light that colored the world gold for just a moment before racing back behind the dark green branches. Just a glimpse; an impression of something she didn’t want to explore.
Like, ever.
“When did she grow up?” Amber asked, looking over at the dance floor, where Lark was currently holding on to her new husband, both of them swaying to the music without displaying any particular dancing skills. Quinn was a rough-and-tumble cowboy type, though he seemed to have a little more rhythm than his new bride. “It makes me feel old,” she continued. “Like an old cliché. Sitting here at her reception looking at this grown-up woman in a wedding gown and thinking . . . how is she not eight years old still?”
“Imagine how I feel,” Cade said, his voice rough.
“Yeah, I know.”
The Mitchells were a part of Amber’s cobbled-together family. She didn’t have a lot in the way of people who loved her, so when she found people who were willing to accept her, she clung to them as best as she could.
In her younger years that clinging amounted to some very poor decisions, but she’d matured past that. Especially after she’d realized that her grandma and grandpa weren’t going to just ship her straight back into the system. That they were going to let her stay in Silver Creek.
That she could stay, with them, in their home.
Since then, she’d built herself a solid foundation for her life. And Cade was the cornerstone. Had been since she was fourteen years old. She would never, ever do anything to jeopardize that.
Though, there was nothing wrong with infrequent, secret ogling.
“Are you having empty-nest syndrome, Mitchell?” she asked, nudging him with her elbow.
“Me? Oh, hell no. This nest isn’t getting emptier. Maddy runs around like hell on pudgy feet. That little beast cut holes in one of my work shirts the other day with those little plastic-handled scissors. And now Cole and Kelsey have the other baby coming in January. Nope, it’s just filling up over here.”
“But Lark’s gone.”
“She’s been gone. She’s been shacking up with that asshole I now call a brother-in-law for a year.”
She patted his thigh and pretended not to notice how hard and hot and muscular it was beneath those thin dress pants. “I know. But now it’s official.”
“Yep.”
“Emotions don’t bite, Cade. Don’t run from your feels,” she said dryly.
“That’s pretty rich coming from you, missy.”
She made a face at him and earned a smile. “I don’t have to take advice to give it. I’m emotionally stunted and I know it.”
“That’s why we get along so well.”
“I thought it was because I’m such a good pool player,” she said, lifting her beer up from the table and taking a long drink.
“That’s not it. I’m a lot better than you are.”
“Uh-huh.”
“What do you think?” he asked. “Wanna dance?”
She eyed Cade. More specifically, his leg. The one she hadn’t just patted. “Um . . . really?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Okay, maybe not.” The grooves around his mouth deepened, and Amber felt an answering chasm deepen around her heart.
She hated that he couldn’t dance anymore. Hated that the man she knew as being so totally vital and energetic was hobbled because of a rodeo accident four years ago.
For a long time they’d all blamed Quinn, Lark’s husband, but they found out they’d been mistaken—which was hard for Cade to process, as evidenced by the fact that he frequently referred to his new brother-in-law as an asshole.
They were getting there, but they weren’t exactly best friends yet.
The dude-bonding process was not yet complete.
Now they didn’t quite know who to blame, except for a poor kid who’d been paid to sabotage the ride. The spike he’d put beneath Cade’s horse’s saddle had only been intended to end the ride faster, not send Cade to the hospital and cause life-changing, career-ending injuries. Getting hung up on your horse was never a good thing, but when the horse was that spooked? You didn’t walk away. You got carted away on a stretcher.
Quinn got to move on from it all. His name was cleared. He was reinstated into competitions. And the question of who’d sabotaged Cade was left unanswered.
And Cade would never be fixed. Even if they did find out who was behind it, Cade wouldn’t magically be healed, damage undone by justice. That hurt her. Always. Every day.
Because whenever she had a problem Cade was there. He was always trying to fix things for her. Had been since they were in high school. But there was no fixing this for him. And she’d give her own leg to do it, so he could go back to doing what he loved.
She only used her legs to wait tables and help around her grandparents’ ranch.
She didn’t do anything like Cade had been doing. Watching him ride? It had always sent a flash of light down her spine. A spark that lit her up everywhere and sent tingles to places.
It was art with him: athletic grace and sheer masculine willpower. Straining muscles, gritted teeth, dirt, sweat and mud flying in the air.
Yeah, that flipped her switches like whoa.
Cade Mitchell on the back of a bucking horse was a truly orgasmic experience.
When he was through with a ride, he always shook. From his hands down to his boots. Adrenaline, he said. She shook too though, and it wasn’t always from adrenaline.
He scared the hell out of her. Watching his accident during the Vegas championships, on TV in her living room, had been the single most painful moment of her life.
Her best friend, her family, dragged around the arena like a rag doll, white as death and knocking on that door.
In those moments, she’d gotten a look at life without Cade. And it had been a yawning vacuum of empty cold. She’d always known he was important. Right then, she’d realized just how important.
Ironically, she would still give just about anything to get him back in the saddle, so to speak. Because he loved it. Even though she knew that after that accident she’d sweat off three pounds during those precious seconds he was on the back of one of those beasts.
Small price to pay for allowing him to have his passion. For giving him back the ability to dance, however badly, so they could go out on that wooden floor together on his sister’s wedding day.
But there was no going out on the dance floor for Cade. So they sat at the table and drank beer until the sky turned purple and the candles, strung over the tables in mason jars, lit everything with a pale yellow glow.
“Last dance,” Amber said, knowing that Quinn and Lark would be leaving soon, off on their honeymoon. “Wanna get out of here?” she asked.
“Are you hitting on me?”
“Hay-ell yeah. What do people come to weddings for but to hook up? Certainly not to see their BFF’s little sister tie the knot with a ridiculously handsome cowboy.”
“You think he’s handsome?” Cade asked, eyes narrowed.
She looked back at Quinn and Lark, who were still twined around each other like vines. “Uh, yeah. Have you checked that tat he has on his shoulder? Me-ow.”
“Hey, he’s my sister’s husband,” he said, grimacing slightly when he said the words.
“Don’t worry, I’m out of the game.”
“I thought we were gonna hook up.”
“Did I say hook up? I meant ‘Let’s get out of here so I can whup your ass at pool.’ How about that?”
“Sounds like more fun anyway.”
More fun than watching his little sister ride off into the sunset with a guy that Cade still had a tough time with in some ways. He didn’t say that, but Amber could read Cade’s subtext pretty
well. Most often, said subtext was cheeseburger or breasts. But every so often it was a real, deep emotion that he was never, ever going to show to the public.
Or even to himself.
Which was when she made sure she was on hand to help him out.
“Yep. I’ll even buy you a beer because you look so damn purty,” she said, tweaking his hat.
“Well, shucks,” he said, that lopsided grin tilting to the left, tilting her stomach along with it. “Let’s get on with it . . .Can you play pool in that dress?” he asked, indicating her very abnormally feminine attire.
“If you can play in a tie.”
He reached up and grabbed the knot at the base of his throat and loosened it. “I think I can handle it.”
“But can you handle me?” she asked, quirking her brow.
“I guess we’ll see.”
The Saloon, so named because it had been around since that was the usual name for a place where drinking and carousing occurred, was packed. Not so much because it was a Sunday night, but because there was no other nightlife in Silver Creek. Nothing beyond a music festival that ran through the summer and attracted mainly the gray-hairs who only lived in town seasonally.
Not that Cade needed much of a nightlife. Not considering he hadn’t done any real “going out” since his accident. Not considering that, even if he did, he couldn’t dance.
He didn’t know why he’d asked Amber to dance at Lark’s wedding.
Ah, shit. Lark was married. That made him feel . . . well, it made him feel. And that was just something he hadn’t been prepared for.
But she was his baby sister, and dammit, no matter how unsentimental he wanted to be about it, he and Cole had practically raised her. Which really made Amber closer to the truth than he wanted to admit.
He had empty-nest syndrome. A thirty-two-year-old single man with commitment issues . . . and empty-nest syndrome. As if he wasn’t enough of a dysfunctional gimp-bag already.
He wandered up to the bar behind Amber and settled in next to her, his forearms resting on the wooden surface, which was scarred from years of use and misuse. Bottles broken in brawls and Lord knew what else.