by White, J. L.
My smile widens, if that’s possible. “The first?”
“The very first. I can’t imagine my life without you. I can’t imagine our lives without you. The way you bring people in and adopt them as family, I know you’d do the same for Max. I know you’d love him, too.”
“I already do,” I say eagerly. “I love both of you.”
“See?” he says, drawing me closer and resting his forehead on mine. “Moments like that.”
I want to kiss him, but more than that, I want to tell him something. Foreheads still touching, I look into his eyes and say, “You know how I have a new vision for my house?”
He nods. I’ve already told him how he helped me stop thinking of that house as my parents’ house, and start thinking of it as my own. He already knows I have a new vision for it, and that’s why I’ve been able to start moving things around and get rid of stuff and make changes.
But there’s something I haven’t told him. “That vision…” I say softly, “you and Max are in it.”
His face softens and his hold on me slowly tightens.
“That’s who I see there now. All of us together, there in our house. Not their house anymore, but ours.”
“I love you so much,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion, then he kisses me. We press together, holding our kiss, sinking into it, letting it affirm everything that’s been said, and communicate what’s not been said. He kisses me again, then my arms go around his neck and I tuck my head into his neck as he lifts me off my feet, squeezing firmly.
I laugh and hang on tight. The waves crash along the sand, and the fog hovers above the shoreline, and Brett is right here with me, and it is all magic to me.
When he finally puts me down, we’re both grinning at each other, glowing with the emotion of his non-proposal and my sort-of answer. I can wait for the later, “better” proposal. For the moment, I cannot imagine anything better than this, anyway. I’m perfectly happy knowing he’s fallen for me as hard as I’ve fallen for him. I even get little Max out of the deal. At this thought, my heart swells with love for that little boy. I’m overflowing with love for them both.
My life has not gone at all as planned, I realize. I didn’t initially plan to buy the Cottages, stretching away from us in both directions, and I didn’t plan to fall in love with Brett Carmichael and his son. No. Life has not gone as planned at all.
Thank God for that.
Chapter 37
Lizzy
Two weeks later, Max and I are sitting on the floor by his train table, rearranging the tracks to accommodate some new pieces he got for his birthday. Today was his party, and it was quite a turnout. In addition to some of his little friends from preschool, he had about all the family in attendance a boy could want. All the local family on Brett’s side of the family was at Brett’s house to celebrate, including his mother, of course.
She and I are getting on remarkably well. Yesterday I finished The Agony and the Ecstasy, just so she and I could discuss it, which we did. I ended up recommending another book to her, Moonwalking with Einstein, and we set a date for coffee in a few weeks so we can talk about it. Turns out she’s pretty easy to get along with, once she decides she likes you.
My brothers and Whitney were also here, mainly because Connor and Max have bonded and Max didn’t want to leave Rayce out. Not to be outdone, Rayce won him over by being a horse for all the kids to ride. I’ve never seen my brother like that with kids before, and I watched the whole thing in awe. For the first time, I wondered what sort of dad he might be, if he ever decides to become one.
Jessica was here too, with the friend who took her in after rehab. She has a job now, working for a small law firm downtown, but doesn’t get her new apartment for a couple more weeks. She seems to have accepted the outcome between her and Brett, and even pulled me aside at one point to thank me for being so kind to her son. I thanked her for sharing him with me, and told her I was proud of her for turning her life around. Which I am. I don’t know that she and I will ever be friends, but we certainly are not enemies.
As Max and I nearly complete the new circuit of his train tracks, with Montana lying nearby in doggy dreamland, I look up and say, “Where did your dad get off to?” I haven’t seen him in several minutes.
“He’s getting my big present ready,” Max says.
“Your big present? You’re getting more?” This kid already got a truckload, including what I thought were the gifts from his dad.
He nods, and snaps together two pieces of track. “It’s a surprise.”
A few minutes later, Brett comes down the hallway and Max looks at him eagerly. “Is it ready?”
Brett nods, smiling at me.
“Hooray!” Max cries, getting to his feet. I don’t know where this little kid gets all his energy. He’s been running around all day and looks like he could go for several more hours even though it’s nearly his bedtime. He hops over and grabs my hand, pulling on my arm. “Come on, Lizzy! Come on!”
I get to my feet, holding his hand, and he drags me to where Brett is waiting for us. When we get there, he takes my hand and squeezes, putting a kiss on my cheek. Max lets go of my hand and starts running down the hall, not toward his bedroom like I anticipated, but toward Brett’s.
“No, no,” Brett says. “Wait for us.” He holds out his hand and Max comes back dutifully, taking it.
We get to the door and Brett turns to me, smiling.
“Okay, Max,” he says. “Get ready, but don’t open the door yet.”
Max grins up at me and puts his little hand on the doorknob as Brett steps behind me and puts his hands over my eyes.
“Wait,” I say, beginning to realize I’ve been played. “What’s going on?”
“You’ll see!” Max says.
Brett comes in close and whispers in my ear. “It’s a surprise.”
A shiver runs through me, and I grin.
I hear the door open, and Brett slowly leads me inside six tentative steps. He brings me to a stop, then says. “Don’t open your eyes yet.”
He removes his hands, but I keep my eyes closed as instructed. There’s a scent in the room that I’m trying to identify, but before I have a chance to work it out, Brett says, “Okay. Open them.”
Brett’s room is aglow with what must be fifty candles at least, and rose petals scattered all over the floor and the bed. I now recognize the scent of burning candles and roses.
I spin around to discover Brett on one knee. He’s holding up a little ring box, open to display the stunning diamond ring inside. Max is by the door, his little hands clasped in front of his chest. Both Carmichael boys are grinning at me, but I can only gape at them.
“When I asked Max what he wanted for his birthday, he said he wanted us to be able to keep Lizzy.”
My hand flies to my mouth, and tears spring to my eyes.
“Elizabeth Rivers, I don’t know what I did to deserve a woman like you coming into my life…”
I smile, my hand still over my lips as I look back and forth between Brett and Max. Max gives me a quizzical look, and slowly drifts toward his father as he continues to talk.
“…but I promise to do everything in my power earn your love every day. You are already our family in every way that counts, but one. Will you please give me the honor of becoming my wife?”
I nod rapidly, too choked up to speak, and see Max giving me quite a concerned look as I sink to my knees and give Brett an eager kiss. Then I wrap one arm around him, and pull Max into a hug with the other.
Max leans his head behind me, and asks his dad in a quiet, confused voice, “Daddy, do we get to keep her?”
“Yes,” he answers.
“Then why is she crying?”
I laugh coming up and kissing him on the cheek. “Because I’m so happy.”
He gives his dad a questioning look, as if to verify the truth of this highly unlikely answer.
Brett laughs and says, “You’ll understand better when you’re older.”<
br />
We celebrate with some strawberry shortcake Brett had hidden in the back of the refrigerator to mark the occasion, then we read The Pokey Little Puppy just once, which is all it takes for Max to fall asleep. Apparently, all this little bundle of energy needed to do was go horizontal and his body did the rest.
Through it all, I realize I’ve discovered a level of family I did not quite understand. I’ve been a child in a family. I’ve been a sister. I’ve been many things, but I look at Brett over little Max’s curly head, and in some ways he already feels like my husband. And Max already feels like mine too. There is a depth to this kind of family that’s exhilarating, and a little frightening, and the most beautiful gift I could have ever received.
As Brett leads me by the hand into his room, I try to remember every moment from tonight and tuck it into the pocket inside my heart. Which is a good place for it.
Epilogue
Lizzy
I’m parked in front of a small, older foursquare house in Galesburg, Illinois. There’s a small front porch and big front windows with wide, wooden frames. The house is light green with dark green trim, and is the residence of a certain Mason Reeves.
Brett thinks I’m crazy. So does Corrine. No one else knows I’m here.
Well, except for George Hollister, who gave me the information I requested without the faintest of protests.
So maybe this is the right thing to do, and maybe it’s not, but I’m here now and I’m going for it. There’s what looks to be a thirty-year-old Corvette and a much newer Harley Davidson in the drive, so hopefully he’s home.
I step out of the rental car, hitch my purse over my shoulder, and shut the door. Eyes on the house, I stand there taking a few deep breaths, which materialize in the air in front of me. It’s considerably colder here in November than it is in Central California.
I rub my damp palms on the sides of my jeans, wishing I’d thought to bring some gloves, then tuck my hands under my arms for warmth. At least I have a jacket. Taking one last, resolute breath, I make my way down the sidewalk, up the wooden steps, and to the door.
A moment’s hesitation, then I knock quickly so I can’t chicken out.
There’s silence for a few seconds, then the clomping of heavy steps as someone comes to the door. The door swings inward to reveal a rather massive specimen of a male. He’s my age, so I maybe could safely assume this is Mason Reeves, but he doesn’t look remotely related. He’s broad shouldered, tall, and covered in bulging muscles. He’s perfectly proportioned, for a male of this type, and good-looking to boot, so I imagine he and his Harley could go bare-chested in a pinup calendar no problem.
But right now, I’m mostly keenly aware of the fact that this guy outsizes me more than most, and I hope that’s not going to be a problem if he doesn’t like what comes next.
“Yeah?”
“Um… are you Mason Reeves?”
He glances over me up and down. Not in a sleazy way, more like he’s trying to take me in and figure out who I am. In fact, while he’s not exactly friendly, his eyes are non-threatening, which soothes my nerves some. “Who wants to know?”
I stick out my hand, offering a shake. “I’m Elizabeth Rivers. Lizzy.”
His eyes harden immediately, and my heartrate speeds up. He looks at my hand. He doesn’t take it. “What are you doing here?”
I drop my hand. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“Well, I don’t want to talk to you.”
He starts to close the door but I put my hand on it and stick my foot between the door and the jamb, cringing at the fear that his muscly arms are going to crush my foot anyway, but I say urgently, “Please wait! Please.”
He opens the door quickly and stares down at my foot. “Are you serious, lady?”
“Please, I’m sorry, but… I need to ask you a question.”
He’s looking at me with a neutral expression. I remove my foot and drop my hand. “Do you live in California?” he asks, his voice neither hard, nor welcoming.
I nod.
“You came here all the way from California to ask me a question?”
I nod again.
There’s something in this man’s eyes. I don’t know what it is. Is it familiarity? A recognition that we’re related, in spite of no clear resemblance? Or is it the hint of vulnerability I sense behind his eyes? I don’t know. But whatever it is, I feel like it’s forging a connection between us, right here at his front door.
“Maybe I don’t feel like answering your question.”
“I understand,” I say softly. “But… if you’re my brother, I have a right to know.”
His eyes widen and he stares at me, dropping his hand from the doorknob. “You think I’m your brother?”
I blink at him, discerning just from the tone of his voice that I’ve made a mistake. That Rayce and I both have. That isn’t what’s going on at all.
“No,” he says harshly. “I’m not your damn brother. Now go away.”
He shuts the door, and this time I do nothing to stop him. I stand staring at the closed door for what feels like a minute, my head spinning. Slightly numb, I turn and exit the porch, one heavy step at a time. I sort of wander back to the car, get behind the wheel, and sit there for a moment.
I pick up my phone and call Brett.
“How’s it going?” he answers.
“Well. I talked to him. It’s not what we thought. He’s not my brother.”
“What did he say? How did he know your dad?”
“I don’t know. We didn’t get that far. He shut the door on me. He doesn’t want to talk.”
Brett sighs, then says gently. “I didn’t think he would.”
“I know. You were right.” I take a deep breath, turning my head and looking back to the closed door.
“Well, at least now you can come home knowing that you don’t have a brother floating around out there somewhere.”
“Yes,” I say dully. “I can go home knowing that. And at least I know Dad didn’t do that to Mom.” I thought I’d made my peace with that, but perhaps not, since the knowledge he was faithful to her is now a tangible relief.
I sigh again. “All right. I’ll head back to the airport and see if I can bump up my flight home. I’ll let you know.”
“Okay, honey. I love you.”
“I love you, too. Give Max and Montana kisses for me.”
“I will.”
We hang up and I sit for another minute. Then two. I look at Mason Reeves’ front door again.
I should go back to the airport now. I should. He doesn’t want to talk to me. Whatever is going on, he doesn’t want to talk to me. Brett is right. I should just leave the man be.
But… I don’t know if I can leave this unresolved. I don’t mean for myself. I mean—am I crazy to think it?—for him. The way his face looked for a moment there, so vulnerable. Like he both wanted to talk to me, and didn’t.
Why did he reject his inheritance, especially considering it so clearly, rightfully belongs to him? He has a little time to change his mind, legally, but after that, it will get reabsorbed by the trust. That means the house will be sold and the money divided between my brothers and me. Something about that seems horribly wrong. Something about walking away right now seems wrong, too.
My father cared about this person. Strangely, though I don’t even know him, I care too.
I sigh, get out of the car, and curse myself for my stubbornness and stupidity all the way up the walk.
Nevertheless, when I get to the door, I raise my hand, and knock.
The End
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The first book in the Beautiful Rivers series...
When fellow Californians Whitney Spencer and Connor Rivers meet in the most unlikely of places—on the Camino pilgrimage in Spain—they fall head first into a brief, impassioned love affair. But Whitney’s on her way back to her career in San Francisco, and Connor is a world traveler whose restless spirit has yet to be captured by anyone.
Tr
agedy strikes and Connor is called home to help his siblings run the family business, the Rivers Paradise Resort. Yet the adventurer inside him hasn’t gone away; in fact, his wanderlust is on the verge of destroying his family’s fragile stability.
After Whitney’s career brings her to Connor’s resort, the sparks between them flare. Will her reappearance be enough to tame him? Can their love be enough, or are they destined for another gut-wrenching goodbye?
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Also by J.L. White
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Corrine and Mason