His look turned hot, possessive. Heat flared in her belly at that look. It said you’re mine and I want you.
“I’m not here for a visit. I’m here for you.”
The air grew thick in her lungs. It took her a second to close her mouth. She swallowed and searched for her composure. “For me?”
He smiled, but it seemed forced, as if he was trying too hard to make it look natural. “Ever been to D.C.?”
“Once. Why?”
“Fuck.” He shook his head. And then he was down on one knee in front of her, grasping her hands and forcing her to look at him. “Come to D.C. with me, Evie. Marry me or shack up with me, I don’t care which right now just so long as you come with me.”
She was speechless. Of all the directions she’d thought this conversation was going…
“Evie?” His expression was troubled. He looked… uncertain.
Matt Girard, uncertain? The most confident, self-assured man she’d ever known? She latched onto something he’d said, searching for a firm footing in this uncertain sea he’d let swallow her whole. “You’re asking me to marry you?”
A shaky breath rattled from his chest. “Yes. When you’re ready.”
Her head was spinning. “Isn’t it a little premature? We haven’t even lived together yet. For all I know, you hate the Food Network. For all you know, I’m a slob.”
“I don’t hate the Food Network, and I don’t care if you’re a slob.”
Her throat was tight. “We’re good together in bed, but…” She shook her head. “I don’t even know if you love me.”
“Jesus, Evie. Of course I love you. Would I be down here with my heart in my hands if I didn’t love you?”
She was trembling deep inside. “You say that like I was supposed to know. You never said a word. That whole night together, and you never said a word.”
He pulled in a deep breath. “I didn’t think it was fair to tell you before I left. I didn’t think it was fair to ask you to be a part of my life when I didn’t know what was going to happen to me. But I didn’t know what lonely really meant until I left that morning. I’ve never been lonelier than when I wasn’t with you.”
Evie figured she must look like a fish out of water. Gaping, gaping.
“But why didn’t you call me at least? Tell me what was happening? I missed you so much. I practically begged Misty Lee for information—”
He squeezed her hands. “I couldn’t. Not until I knew what the consequences were going to be.”
Evie pushed her hair back over her shoulder. “I think I’m mad at you, Matt Girard. For making a decision that involved me without asking me what I thought.”
“I know. I was wrong.”
“And now here you are again, upending my world—” She drew in a deep breath, willed herself to be calm. “You said before that you couldn’t ask a woman to share that kind of life. What’s changed?”
He closed his eyes on a deep breath. When he opened them again, they were dazzlingly bright. “Me. I’ve changed. The job means a lot to me, but it’s not everything. You’re everything. Love is worth the risk.”
She couldn’t look at him anymore so she stared at their clasped hands. Yes, she’d been angry with him. But she’d missed him more, loved him more. Wanted him.
“I’ve had to help Mama get back on her feet.” Her voice was hoarse with emotion. “And I’ve needed to be here for Sarah. She’s really opened up to me. We’re sisters now, not strangers. I’ve made my peace with Rochambeau.”
“I’m glad for that. But I’m gonna be selfish and ask you to leave again. What we’re doing in D.C. is pretty important. I’m not going to be in the field as much anymore—sometimes, but not often—so you don’t have to be afraid for me. I’m directing operations from the new facility. I thought you’d like that.”
“It’s less dangerous?”
“Yes, though not always.”
“I’ve been helping Charlie, and then there’s my career…”
She was making excuses now, saying whatever came into her head because she still couldn’t quite believe this was real.
“If you can’t leave Rochambeau, I’m going back and offering my resignation again. And I’ll keep offering until they take it.”
The force of his conviction stunned her. “You’d do that for me?”
There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in his eyes. “I would.”
“But you don’t want to work for Girard Oil.”
“I’ll dig ditches for a living if it makes you happy. I’ll learn how to cook. We can open a restaurant together.”
Evie laughed as an image of big, badass Matt chopping an onion appeared in her mind. She shook her head. Was that hope blossoming in her soul? Did she dare believe?
But what if this was an illusion? A mirage? Had she been breathing too many permanent solution fumes in the beauty shop?
“Evie, look at me.”
She did. And what she saw made her breath catch. Love, shining through. For her.
He gave her that million-watt smile. “How about it? Think I can learn to cook?”
She regarded him seriously. “No, I don’t think you’d make a good chef. Better stick to being the muscle, babe.”
He squeezed her hands. “Does this mean you’ll consider moving to D.C.?”
Her heart was going to burst. He was offering her something that frightened her, but after everything they’d been through together, after the way he’d risked himself for her—and the way she’d risked herself for him, don’t forget—how could she say no now?
“I think I better. In order to prevent culinary atrocities, you understand.”
His head dropped for a moment, his eyes closing briefly. When he looked at her again, his smile lit up her world. “I’ll move heaven and earth to make you happy, Evie. I want you there when I wake up every morning and there when I go to sleep at night. I love you, even if you don’t do a damn thing I tell you to do.”
Happiness magnified inside her and spread outward in warm waves of sunshine. “Oh, I imagine I can do some things.”
“Why don’t we get started on that now?” He stood and pulled her up with him. “Because I can think of quite a few things I’d like you to do. To me. With me.”
Evie caught a glimpse of a dozen faces pressed to the plate-glass window of her mother’s shop as Matt wrapped her in his arms and kissed her senseless. Dimly, past the tattoo beat of her heart and the happiness swirling in her head, she heard a chorus of cheers.
Rochambeau loved its gossip, and there was nothing that lit the little town on fire quite like the news that the boy once voted most likely to succeed was going to marry the girl from the wrong side of town. The citizens were tickled pink because everyone knew that’s exactly how it was supposed to be… even if it had taken several years for the boy and girl to figure it out.
They might not get married right away—in fact, they didn’t—but one day, they’d be back to stand in the gardens at Reynier’s Retreat and pledge their undying love. It had been fated since the moment two children met on the ancient steps of the old mansion.
THE END
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
USA Today bestselling author Lynn Raye Harris lives in Alabama with her handsome former-military husband and two crazy cats. Lynn has written over fifteen novels for Harlequin and been nominated for several awards, including the Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart award and the National Readers Choice award. Lynn loves hearing from her readers.
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
A BOOK IS NEVER WRITTEN in a vacuum, and this one most certainly wasn’t. This is one of the hardest books I have ever written, and it’s also the one I refused to give up on. From the first glimmer of an idea way back in 2005 until now, this story has undergone many revisions and lots of hair pulling in order to reach the reader. I have so many people to thank.
My husband Mike, an Air Force veteran who was always there with military knowledge and advice, was (and is) invaluable to me. I grew up with the military, married into it, and have lived that life for a long time. Still, mistakes are inevitable, so if they’re there, it’s my fault. There are some things I chose to do for story reasons, and I’m sure the military spouses and vets will find them and know they aren’t quite correct. I beg you to forgive me.
My Aloha Chapter peeps in Hawaii, who knew me back when I first started this book, and who encouraged me to keep going when the going got tough. My Heart of Dixie peeps in Alabama, who just simply rock in so many ways and who inspired me from the very beginning.
Kira Sinclair, Andrea Laurence, and Marilyn Puett read early drafts of this story and gave me so much encouragement. Jean Hovey, aka Alicia Hunter Pace, read the last draft and told me exactly what I needed to hear.
Then there are the Pixie Chicks, the 2008 Golden Heart finalists, who made the RWA conference in San Francisco so memorable. This was the book that finaled that year, and I am so honored to be a part of such a talented group of women. It took a few years, but this story is finally ready for the light of day!
I couldn’t have done this without the advice and help of the Indie Pixies, who gave me more encouragement than they know. I adore you all, but I have to give special thanks to Courtney Milan. Courtney has always been ready to answer questions for me, and to give me recommendations when I needed them.
I also have to thank Robin Harders, editor extraordinaire, who took this project on and probably had no idea what she’d gotten herself into. I lovingly referred to this story as Frankenbook—and it was, because I’d pulled it apart and stitched it together so many times. But Robin read it anyway and told me exactly what it was missing. And Anne and Sara at Victory Editing helped with that last push toward perfection (elusive, but we tried!).
If you loved the cover, then it wouldn’t exist without the major talents of Frauke Spanuth, owner and creative director of Croco Designs. I lucked into Frauke’s orbit back in 2008 when I needed a professional website and I haven’t looked back. She always, always comes through.
Ultimately, however, I have to thank my readers. You’ve given me one heck of a ride with Harlequin, and now I hope you’ll love my HOT military guys as much as I do. They aren’t billionaires, but they are definitely alpha males. I’ve wanted to share this story for so long, and I’m thrilled I finally can.
It took an army to get it to you, and I hope you will adore it as much as I do. Thank you so much, and happy reading!
WHAT’S NEXT?
More HOT guys, of course! Keep an eye out for Hot Mess, a novella in the Hostile Operations Team world that’s coming SOON!
Table of Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
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Other Books by Lynn
About the Author
Acknowledgements
What’s Next
Hot Pursuit Page 31