Chasing Treasure: Granite Lake Romance

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Chasing Treasure: Granite Lake Romance Page 26

by Jody A. Kessler


  “Will you move in with me? If we’re going to do this, then I want to see you every day and sleep with you every night.”

  He answered with a kiss that shook her world and turned it right side up. “I can’t believe how long it took you to ask.”

  Epilogue

  “WHAT’S THIS?” Treasure asked.

  Bodie felt her hand shaking in his.

  “A ring,” he said. “White gold, diamonds, in a little circle. You wear it on your finger.”

  “But, I’m not—”

  “Don’t say you’re not ready. This isn’t an engagement ring, Treasure Hope. It’s a promise ring. I’m promising to be here for you every day, in every situation, whenever and wherever you need me.”

  “Do you have to wear one, too?” she asked, confused, and trembling like a frightened cat.

  “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.” Bodie lowered the ring and was about to shove it back in his pocket.

  “No, wait.” She reached for it.

  He knew the ploy would work. Simply take it away and she would want it back. That had been the tactic he used on her earlier in the summer. Bodie removed himself and let her come to him when she was ready. With Treasure, there was no cornering her.

  “What are you doing? You want to wear my ring now? Hmm… You looked uncertain a second ago.” He held the ring out of reach.

  Her hand wrapped around his wrist. She tugged the ring closer for inspection. “I only wanted to know if you have to wear one, too. To let all the women know you’re taken.”

  “What women?” Bodie scoffed.

  “Come on, you know when you’re being hit on. They’re all over you.”

  “Where are these women? I’m sure one of them would love a diamond ring,” Bodie said, playing along.

  The boat swayed gently beneath them. The summer sun warmed his skin and kept Treasure’s cheeks pink. She was smoldering in her electric blue bikini. It was all Bodie could do not to untie the strings with his teeth and let the miniscule swimsuit fall to the deck.

  Treasure plucked the ring away from him and slipped it on her finger.

  “This looks like an engagement ring,” she said, sounding as if she were accusing him of something unspeakable.

  “It can be whichever you want it to be. I’m not going anywhere.”

  She arched a brow at him. He watched as she tried to hold in her pleasure as she peered at the ring. The diamonds sparkled and were beautiful on her, if he did say so himself.

  “Do you like it?”

  “I thought you were going to give me mini doughnuts and cherry pie, not jewelry.”

  “I brought those, too.” He turned to the cooler and lifted the lid so she could see what was inside. “What do you want first?”

  “Hmm,” she hummed, reaching for him. “You. Right now. I love the ring. But I love you more. I want you out in the open, and without any interruption.”

  Bodie was half bent over the open cooler. He rose to meet her, and tripped. Trying to not land on the girl of his dreams, he sidestepped and ran into the corner of a seat. The same seat he rocked Treasure’s socks off in his dad’s garage. Treasure jumped out of the way as Bodie made the least sexy move of his life. He reached for the back of the seat, missed, aimed haphazardly for the side rail, stumbled, and went over.

  Bodie’s head broke the surface and he saw Treasure laughing hysterically. The diamonds on her new ring flashed in the sunlight. The sound of her delight, and the smile on her lips filled him with a new kind of contentment. A feeling he never wanted to let go of.

  He climbed aboard and tackled Treasure to the bench seat. She squealed and squirmed as cold lake water dripped over her hot skin. “Treasure, you’re going to be the death of me. I swear it.”

  “You’re welcome.” She giggled and stopped struggling. Treasure lay on her back, peering up at him with an intensity she rarely let him see. “I have something I need to tell you,” she said with a more serious tone.

  He thought she was going to give the ring back and start telling him how it was too soon. Bodie took a chance and he frightened her again.

  A challenge suddenly sparkled behind those seductive eyes of hers. The tip of her tongue moistened her lips. “Bodie,” she said.

  “Yes, Treasure Hope?”

  “The lake isn’t the only thing that’s wet.”

  He groaned and set about fulfilling his fantasy of removing her bikini and making love to his best friend, an incredible, fun, intelligent and sexy woman. His woman.

  ~ Thank you for reading ~

  If you enjoyed Chasing Treasure, please help spread the word. The greatest compliment you could give is to write a review at your favorite online retailer, share with a book club, or recommend it to a friend.

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  Be on the lookout for Granite Lake Romance, book 3. Melanie and Braden are coming soon!

  Other Works Available

  An Angel Falls series

  Death Lies Between Us #1

  Angel Dreams #2

  Haunting Me #3

  Book #4 coming soon

  The Misplaced - A Chris Abeyta ghost hunting tale

  Historical Time Travel series

  The Night Medicine

  Witches of Lane County

  Heart of the Secret

  A Witch’s Fate

  Granite Lake Romance

  Unwrapping Treasure

  Chasing Treasure - book #2

  Book #3 coming soon

  &

  New Coming of Age Series

  When We’re Entwined

  About the Author

  When Jody isn’t navigating the terrain of her imagination and writing it down, she can be found exploring the wilderness of Colorado with her family, or in the kitchen baking cookies & brownies – and trying not to eat them all. She’s passionate about continuing to learn and reads anything and everything that catches her interest.

  Death Lies Between Us, book one in the An Angel Falls series, is the winner of the Readers’ Crown Award for Best Paranormal Romance. Ms. Kessler is an international bestselling author. She writes contemporary romance, historical time travel fiction, and paranormal fiction. She is the author of the An Angel Falls series, Granite Lake Romance series, The Night Medicine and more.

  Jody A. Kessler invites you to stop by her website and see what’s new at www.JodyAKessler.com.

  You can also connect with her on Facebook at Jody A. Kessler, or on Twitter @JodyAKessler.

  Acknowledgements

  To John and Nancy. My books would not exist without the two of you. I want to thank my family and friends for their continued support. Thank you to my beta readers and proofreaders—you know who you are. Lastly, I want to thank my readers. I appreciate every one of you.

  Read a Preview of The Night Medicine

  A Historical Time Travel Romance

  Chapter One

  THE SMELL of the place was perpetually stale and sour. Its source could have been the wood planks of the creaking floorboards, where beer had been spilled for decades, but more likely it was the aroma wafting off of the patrons that frequented Growler’s Tavern. Hank Williams or Dwight Yoakam were usually singing out of the jukebox, which was wedged beneath the single high window that faced the main street through town. Someone was always plunking quarters into the machine and punching buttons in search of more modern music, but they weren’t going to find it in this joint.

  The potpourri of odors, the low lights, the sorrowful twang of classic country music, and the ever-flowing tap were part of Growler’s dingy appeal, but none of these reasons were why Dean Wolfsblood sat at the bar drinking bottles of Corona until someone insisted on giving him a ride home.

  More often than not, he wouldn’t speak to anyone. He was there because the bartender was his cousin and she would serve him until Morning Star had risen. He never talked about his problems unless they had to do with broken
equipment at the mine or why the parts didn’t show up on time. Occasionally, the subject changed to who’d been fired or walked off the job. The conversation had to stay neutral so that any man sitting at the bar could contribute his two cents, and Dean could leave all of his sharp-edged memories buried where the haze of alcohol dulled the gleam of the proverbial knife twisting in his heart.

  “I can’t cart your sorry butt home tonight,” the bartender told him as she wiped the bar top in front of Dean. “I have a date.”

  Dean sucked in a deep breath and wagered in his mind how he could get out of hearing about his cousin’s latest victim. “Your caring heart is the eighth wonder of the world, Gena, but I didn’t ask for a ride.”

  “I’m not about to let you drive anywhere.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he muttered and took another swig of beer.

  “You promise?” She cocked a brow skeptically.

  “Don’t give me that look. I’m meeting up with an old buddy from the Corps. He’ll take me home.”

  “Not if he’s been drinking too.”

  “Cut it out, Gena. He doesn’t drink. Never has. Thinks it’s snake venom for us N-D-N’s.”

  “Sounds like a decent guy,” she said as she rinsed the towel out in the sink.

  “He might be. He might be an ass. I never paid much attention. We were too busy making sure we didn’t get blown up.”

  “So you were stationed in Iraq together?” She paused in front of her cousin, speculating about how loaded he already was.

  Dean didn’t look up to meet her gaze. These days, making eye contact with anyone meant that he would have to see the worry lines etched around their eyes and the sympathetic half-smiles that just made him feel worse.

  He stared at his hand wrapped around the bottle instead. “Iraq and Afghanistan. We shared a few tours. Badger’s a hell of a shot. Quick with intel, and saved my rear end more than once.”

  “You said he’s a Blackfoot too? You’ll have to introduce me.”

  Dean risked looking up at his cousin and saw the undeniable expression of an interested woman. A coy smirk touched the corners of her mouth as she tucked her hair behind an ear.

  “Listen lil’ ‘cuz,” he warned. “I’ll have no part in hooking you up with Badger Lowell. Didn’t you just tell me you have a date tonight?”

  He’d gone and done it. He could feel himself being sucked into her black hole of male drama. Dean bit down on his tongue, forcing himself not to get any deeper into this firing hole.

  She shrugged like it was inconsequential for her to be inquiring about a man when she’s currently dating another. “It’s always good to have a backup plan. So, since your friend’s a Marine…”

  “Former Marine,” Dean interrupted.

  “Is he all ripped and muscular like you?” Deviousness twinkled in her dark eyes.

  He glanced down at his biceps, frowned, and shook his head, wondering again how he ended up in this absurd conversation. “I have no clue.”

  Dean could remember Gena planning her future wedding all the way back in middle school. Her teeny-bopper appraisal of every male specimen within a three hundred mile radius drove him nuts. Not much had changed since she’d grown up. She still wanted the whole package: marriage, a house, and kids. Dean thought she wanted it too much, and that it was her longing that kept her from acquiring it. He had seen too many people caught in the trap of wanting it all and not being able to see what was right in front of them as they looked too far into the future. He never voiced these thoughts aloud, however. Gena was a good cousin, more like his sister, and they had always gotten along well. He didn’t need to ruin their relationship with his own unwanted opinions.

  But the thoughts about his lonely cousin continued to nag at him over the buzz from the beer. Maybe he should be easier on her. She could just be taking advantage of the situation at hand. She worked all the time, between running the local daycare center and managing the bar on the weekends. How else was she ever going to land a guy if she didn’t go after opportunities where she saw them? He certainly wasn’t the one to consult when it came to life plans. He once had the life she wanted so badly, and look where it had landed him.

  Disbelieving how far he’d let this train get away from the station, he said, “Turn on a baseball game, will ‘ya?” He stared up at the television suspended from the ceiling. The game mattered little to him, but he wanted a believable way out of this conversation.

  A woman Dean didn’t recognize walked behind the bar and grabbed the remote control. “I got it,” she said.

  Gena turned to her replacement and flashed a wide smile. “Hey, thanks again for coming in.”

  As the girl pointed the remote at the T.V., Dean stole a look at her. He appraised her long, braided hair and narrow figure appreciatively. She wore dark jeans that reminded him of something his ex-wife might wear, but this woman had plain tennis shoes on, whereas Marissa would have worn something with deadly points and heels that no one should ever walk in. He never could understand where her toes were inside those awful shoes, but he had enough sense to know that she liked them, so he didn’t question her choice. Once again affirming that it’s better to keep his mouth shut.

  “I don’t see a listing for any games tonight,” the mystery woman said as she scrolled through the guide.

  “It was my attempt at shutting down Gena’s man-dar.”

  The two women exchanged a look that told Dean that he should definitely stop talking. He hid behind his beer as the new bartender asked, “How about Sports Center?”

  “Sure,” he answered and pretended to look toward the door, wondering how long it would take Badger to show.

  A couple of weeks earlier, Badger had found Dean’s grandmother listed in the phone directory. His Marine pal was coming all the way from Newfoundland where he had been contracted to maintain equipment for a gold mine during the last two years. Badger told her that his contract had ended, he was done with Canada, and was coming back to the States. Grandma Rosemary invited Badger out to Montana for a visit. That was all it took, and now Dean was faced with having to confront his past.

  He finished his bottle of beer and contemplated how numb he’d like to be for the meeting. Beer may not be sufficient for the task.

  His Marine days were part of the time in his life that he no longer thought about. That experience was securely tied in with meeting his wife and starting his family. He buried those thoughts two years ago, but he couldn’t tell Badger not to come. They had too much in common to ignore and throw away. Badger claimed to be a full-blooded Kainah Blackfoot; a Blood. He said his parents left Montana to find work in Colorado years before he was ever born, and then ended up in Butte when his father started working for a copper mine. That’s where Badger had grown up.

  Dean was an Amsskaapipikani, a South Piegan, but they were both Blackfoot, and it was rare to find anyone from home in the service. Strangers in their youth, sheer luck and synchronicity landed them in the same unit in the Marine Corps, deploying to Iraq. Badger was a few years older than Dean, but no one could ever tell because of his baby face and broad smile. Everyone in their squadron assumed they would be fast friends, including Badger. He was always eager to talk about home and tribal councils and the summer pow-wows, but Dean didn’t understand Badger’s motivations and remained cautious around the man. At least at first.

  Dean grew up on the reservation and Badger had never lived on one. It was hard for Dean to understand why Badger wanted to know so much about life there. It was home and nothing all that special, but Badge acted like he had missed out on something great. Dean tried to convince him that all he was missing was a bunch of boring nothing, but Badger never believed it, and pumped him for information constantly.

  During their five tours together, Dean began to trust and even like the opinionated, hot-headed Marine, and they eventually did become friends. Dean knew that after eight years in the military and all of the deployments with Badger, he should have kept in touch w
ith his buddy. He also knew that he should have done a lot of things that he’d neglected, but life had taken a crushing turn for him, and he wanted to forget everything. He had to; otherwise, he was going to be singing his death song a lot sooner than his grandmother would approve of.

  Dean stared at his fingers resting against the bar and noticed how his hands looked like they belonged to some fifty-year-old roughneck, not the twenty-eight-year-old that he actually was. The grime and grease from running the drill rig and working on his truck wouldn’t leave the cracks in his skin for at least a week. By then, he could be on a new job drilling or be out repairing some broken part. Available work was there for him when he wanted it. He was lucky like that. So many others on the Reserve never knew steady work, and probably never would.

  He flexed his hand and felt the ripped skin tear open where he’d scraped his knuckles ten times too many. It’s too easy for his body to forget that he’s still a young man. The work at the mines made his knees and shoulders ache. It made him look older too, but that didn’t bother him. For all anyone else knew, he was just a cranky old bastard. It helped people stay away.

  Working the rigs paid well. The last contract had been decent, and his living expenses were so low that his paycheck would see him through for a few months. Now all he needed was regular sleep and time off from the ear-splitting machines. He was somewhat happy to be home, and grateful that Gena was working tonight before he holed up in his cabin. If he could endure this reunion with Badger quickly, he would then be free to disappear on his land until he left for his next job.

  “Will you grab me another Corona?”

  Gena was out of her apron and had her purse in her hands, but she leaned down and opened a cooler to retrieve yet another beer.

 

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