Running Home to You (The Running Series)

by Sweeney, Suzanne

  I set the food and hot coffee on a tray and sneak back into our bedroom. I clear a spot on the nightstand for our breakfast, then climb up Evan’s body and kiss his face. Evan begins to wake from my soft touch and I can feel his breathy words tickle my neck. “Good morning future wife,” Evan whispers.

  “Good morning future husband.” I nibble his lips and kiss to his neck as he moves beneath me. “Time to get up. I have something for you.”

  He runs his hand down my back and tugs on the fabric of the shirt. “Well then, you better take this off.”

  He looks at me with those sexy blue eyes. “No, not that.”

  As he sits up, he tosses the sheets in his lap, and runs his hands over his face and through his hair. His morning stubble is ridiculously sexy.

  I reach over across the bed and present the tray I’ve prepared for us. “Breakfast!”

  “This is perfect.” He pops a few grapes in his mouth and grabs his cup of coffee in one hand and a piece of toast with the other.

  “Hungry?”

  “Starving,” he says, gazing up at me with bright blue, lustful eyes.

  “That’s going to have to wait until later, chief.”

  “You’re no fun,” he grumbles, munching on toast and fresh melon.

  I laugh. “That’s not what you said last night.” I reach up to caress his face, and he catches my hand to examine it more closely. Evan strokes the ring on my finger, reminding me that my perfect day yesterday wasn’t a dream. It happened, all of it. The closer I look at my fantasy ring, I can’t help but wonder if I was a little too covetous. “Evan, be honest. Do you think it’s too much? I was so caught up in the moment, I didn’t stop to think about the cost.”

  “Stop that talk right now. It’s perfect. It belongs right there on your finger.” Evan brings my hand to his lips and places soft, loving kisses on the palm of my hand.

  “Well, then. I think it would be a good idea for me to get you a gift to show you how much I love my ring.” I nuzzle up to his chest as he plays with my hair.

  “I really liked that special present you gave me last night. Remember? When you did that thing with your tongue? I wouldn’t mind getting another one of those.” He runs a hand across my spine from shoulders to hip.

  “Later. I have to get up. I’m so late. I have to get to the restaurant.” Evan’s strong arms grab hold of me and drag me back down to bed. “Evan, stop. I can’t.”

  “Oh yes, you can. There’s no work for you today. I already took care of it. Now get that beautiful little ass of yours back in this bed right now.”

  I wake up a few hours later and this time I’m alone and naked in our bed. I hear the shower running, so I know exactly where my fiancé is. It’s so strange to call him that, but I like the way it sounds.

  I bring our empty breakfast tray back into the kitchen. As I fill the sink with soapy water, I thumb through yesterday’s mail lying on the kitchen counter. There are the usual assortment of bills and advertisements, but something else catches my eye. It’s a letter-sized envelope with Evan’s name and address written in a woman’s handwriting. I turn it over to see if a return address is listed, and I actually stop breathing. I have to remind my lungs to breathe in and breathe out again. The letter I hold in my hand is from Averee DeVeau.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Thick as Thieves

  “Whatcha got there?” A pair of strong arms wrap around my waist while water drips from his wet head onto my shoulder. Evan peers over my shoulder and nuzzles my ear. Quickly, I shuffle the papers leaving random advertisements on the top of the pile.

  “Just the usual,” I tell him, tossing the stack to the side. I turn and give my fiancé a proper hello. “So chief, what’s on the schedule for today?”

  “You better hop in the shower PDQ. We’ve got a long ride ahead of us.”

  “Where are we going?” I ask.

  “Mom is having us over for dinner so you can show off that stunning ring of yours. She already called and invited your mother to join us. After dinner, I thought we would stop by Rush.” Evan pours himself a big glass of orange juice. “How does that sound?”

  “Perfect. Absolutely perfect.” While Evan calls his mother to confirm our plans, I grab Averee’s letter and stick it in my pocket. I want – no, I need – to read the letter first, alone. If there is nothing harmful or inappropriate, I’ll share it with him. Otherwise, I’ll have to deal with it myself. Now that Evan has the entire New Jersey Sentinels team relying on him, this is one small way I can lighten his burden.

  I open my dresser drawer and place the letter underneath a pile of clothes. Evan has no need to rifle through my things, so I’m quite certain the letter won’t be accidentally discovered. With the letter safely hidden, I hurry to the shower.

  As I stand beneath the rainfall showerhead, I adjust the pressure on the body spray for a pulsing massage. Should I read the letter before we go or should I wait? Suppose I read it now? It could contain anything. It might be an apology expressing regret and shame. It could be a desperate plea for Evan to rekindle their relationship. It could also contain the nonsensical ramblings of a disturbed mind. Do I want her words hanging over me all day and night? Will I be able to keep her letter a secret from Evan?

  Before I have time to decide, the shower door opens and I am no longer alone. Evan finds all sorts of ways to keep my mind, and my body, occupied until it’s time to leave.

  When we pull up to the house, Evan’s mother, Jill, comes running out to greet us. “You’re here! Congratulations,” she excitedly proclaims, throwing both arms around us and pulling us in for a group hug. She steps back and looks at me, takes my left hand, and inspects my ring. “Oh, darling, it’s simply elegant, just exquisite. I couldn’t be happier for both of you.”

  Evan stands by my side, proud as a peacock. He reaches back into the car and presents his mother with a cake box. “Mom, we picked this up from the restaurant on the way here. It’s one of Juliette’s famous cheesecakes.”

  “Evan, darling, bring Juliette around back while I bring this to the kitchen. Your father’s at his usual post manning the grill.”

  He takes my hand and leads me to the backyard where our small family has gathered to celebrate our engagement. Seated around the patio table on a beautiful stone terrace are my mother and Evan’s sister Callie. Callie’s husband Dean is pushing little Regan on a tree swing.

  The moment Evan and I get to the patio, my mother is up on her feet and squeezing me with all her might. “I can’t believe my little girl is getting married.” She turns to Evan, holding out her arms, “And you, come here,” she demands. Evan happily reciprocates her motherly hug. “You better take care of my little girl. She’s all I’ve got, you know.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Evan respectfully promises.

  After I get a fatherly hug and congratulations from John, Callie pulls out a chair and demands that I sit down and spill, “Tell me everything, and don’t leave out a single detail.”

  “Do you really need details Callie?” I ask. “Your fingerprints were all over that proposal.” As a florist, she’s been behind every one of Evan’s thoughtful gestures and I’m certain she had her hand in this, too.

  “What do you mean?” she asks.

  “All the flowers. Didn’t you help?”

  “Nope. Not me. Not this time.”

  “The gardenias? Did he at least talk to you about those?” I ask.

  “Sorry, Juliette, but he didn’t. What happened with the gardenias?” she wants to know.

  I tell her about all the flowers, including the white gardenias, and then pull out my phone to show her pictures. When I tell her that Evan chose them especially because he wants them in my bridal bouquet, she wells up a little bit. Evan walks up and stands behind me, rubbing my shoulders, grinning proudly.

  “I don’t know if you’re aware, but gardenias are a sign of joy, purity, love, and beauty. I never, in my wildest dreams, would have imagined that my baby brother had it in him.
You really do bring out the best in him, Juliette.”

  “Do you doubt my ability to sweep a woman off her feet?” Evan challenges. He takes a few short strides to Callie, lifts her up, and throws her over his shoulder.

  “Evan Thomas McGuire, you put me down right now,” she hollers, laughing and pounding on his back the whole time.

  He walks to the back corner of the yard and ceremoniously deposits her onto the hammock. “Never doubt the determination of a McGuire.”

  “If you’re quite finished horsing around, I could use some help at the grill, young man,” John calls to Evan.

  Evan is instantly transformed into a mischievous teenager, “Sorry, Dad.”

  Jill finally comes back out with a bottle of wine and Callie makes her way back to the table to rejoin us. “Now, show us that video of the proposal,” Callie commands.

  It’s Saturday night and the restaurant is packed. We make it halfway to the bar when shouts of “They’re here!” fill the room. Emmy and Reese come running out to meet me, all giggles and grins, dying to see my ring. Once the initial excitement calms down, we go sit at a table for some girl talk.

  “So, did you set a date yet?” Emmy wants to know.

  “No,” I chuckle. “I’ve only been engaged for twenty-four hours.”

  “That’s okay. We’ll help you pick the perfect date. See, first you have to decide where you want to go on your honeymoon. That will help us pick the right time of year. After that, you pick where you want your wedding day pictures taken. That will help us pick the right month. And then –”

  “Emmy, slow down. I haven’t even thought about any of that.”

  Emmy cannot contain her enthusiasm. “But you have to. There’s so much to do. You have to pick your colors and your flowers. We have to plan a menu and find a band. Aren’t you excited?”

  Reese tries to intervene, “Emmy, give her a minute to breathe. There’s time for all of that. Hey, Jette, look over there. Emmy and I have a surprise for you.” Reese points to the projection wall where I loop some of my favorite images. I look up, and staring back at me are the press pictures taken outside the Tribeca Grill when Evan arranged for our big announcement last night.

  There are pictures of us together looking over the moon. I’m so glad Jocelyn and Brianna took me shopping and to the spa beforehand, because I look good. Every girl should visit a spa or salon before getting her picture taken.

  Close ups of my polished hand showing off my new engagement ring flash next, and again I’m grateful for the manicure Brianna insisted upon. The music playing in the background is my new favorite Jason Derulo song, “Marry Me”.

  I turn to Reese and ask, “How did you do this?”

  “Keep watching,” she insists.

  As the song plays, the entire restaurant quiets to watch and listen. I walk over to the bar where Adam, Derek, and Marcus are entertaining Evan. He swivels his barstool to greet me, and I plant myself right between his legs. Evan places his arms across my middle and his chin on my shoulder as we watch together. Joining the looping photographs are pictures of the flowers from the inside of Broadwin Jewelers. As the song ends, the pictures fade to black and a grainy video takes its place, complete with sound.

  When the video begins, I’m alone in the showroom. My stomach clenches as I watch the door open, knowing exactly who will be walking through it. My breath catches when I see him. He is magnificent. His unruly chestnut hair is sexy as hell. He’s wearing a simple oxford blue dress shirt, emphasizing his hulking biceps, along with my favorite dark blue Diesel jeans that hang just right. He smiles that crazy smexy smile and flashes his million-dollar dimples. And he’s mine.

  I watch as his aching perfection moves gracefully towards me. He wipes away my tears and I can see him gazing at me with such love in his face, it’s humbling. I feel his arms wrap around me a little more tightly and I wriggle just enough to release some of the tension that’s been building. I was there. I know what happens next. Why am I affected so deeply?

  I listen as Evan begins to speak. The room is so quiet around us, you could hear a pin drop. Everyone listens, including the men, as Evan spells out his feelings for me. Then it happens, he drops to one knee and asks me to marry him. I stare in shock at my frozen response. I know there were a million thoughts racing through my head at that very moment, but the poor man before me is waiting patiently for an answer. After what seems like ages, we finally hear Jocelyn’s strong voice booming, “Well? Are you going to answer him or not?” The entire room erupts into laughter. The men all sympathetically give Evan a little slap on the shoulder to let him know they feel his pain, but he ignores them and continues to hold me tightly.

  Every female in the room cries when I whisper my response. At the time I thought I said it with such conviction, I must have been shouting. But my emotions obviously had the better of me. Who could blame me? This impossibly amazing man had just vowed to spend the rest of his life with me. That’s when the video ends. Bruno Mars begins singing, “Marry You,” and the loop begins again.

  I turn around to face Evan, and as I do, his hands slide up from my waist to my cheeks. He holds me gently as he kisses me deeply. And I return his kisses, not caring who is watching. The music playing in the background is humming right along with my heart.

  Eventually, we are forced apart by our friends who want to congratulate us again. Some of the guests in the restaurant whistle while others shout, “Get a room!” But I don’t care. This is my moment and I plan to enjoy every bit of it.

  Once again, we break ranks as the men rendezvous at the bar and the ladies claim a booth in the back. As the three of us scoot into the booth, I can’t help but wonder, “How did you guys pull this off? Who got Jocelyn’s pictures and video, because I know it wasn’t me.”

  Emmy points at Reese, “It’s her, ask Reese how she did it, Jette. Go ahead, ask!”

  “Okay, okay, it was me. Well, sort of. Shaun and I went out with Jocelyn and Xander last night. She showed me everything and I begged her to send copies to me. She’s pretty cool, Jette.”

  Wow. I haven’t really asked, but now I know. Reese is still seeing Shaun. It’s been two weeks. I give it two or three more, then that should be about it. But it’s nice to know he’s made it past the first week. Not many of her men do.

  “You girls stay here. I’ll be right back. I’m going to get us something sweet.” I head back to the kitchen to try and decide what to serve. I’ve had a cheesecake, so it’s time for something light and airy. I don’t see anything in the refrigerator that speaks to me. When I close the refrigerator door, I’m shocked by the figure standing behind the door.

  “Holy shit, Ryker you scared me. What the hell?” I reprimand him. “Where did you come from?” I look around just to make sure we’re not alone. Thank goodness, one of the busboys is still here cleaning dishes.

  “I just stopped by to check on Reese and I was rewarded with a surprise visit with you,” he replies. “I guess this is the part where I congratulate you on your engagement,” he says wryly.

  “I’d say thank you, but it doesn’t seem like your heart was really in it, Ryker. Even if you didn’t mean it, thank you for saying it.” I go to the dry case to find some macaroons that I can bring to the table. “I’ll tell Reese you’re here. I’m sure she’d love to see you.”

  “Hold on,” he takes the plate from my hand and places it down on the counter. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” He needs to explain himself.

  “It just seems to me that for someone who complains about the press so much, you seemed to be more than happy to cozy up to them last night. Don’t you feel just a little bit like a hypocrite?” It almost sounds like he’s angry with me.

  “I’m not having this discussion with you, Ryker. It’s none of your business anymore.”

  “It’s just that I never thought of you as the type of person who sells out just to get their face on the cover of a magazine.” He l
ooks at me with such disappointment. Is that what he thinks I am? A media whore?

  “Is that what you really think?” I ask.

  “No. I don’t think that’s who you are. Listen, I didn’t mean to upset you.” He tries to reassure me with a pat on the hand, but I pull my hand away. “I just have to say, it felt a little staged. You don’t think it’s at all odd that he would set all this up exactly one week before his debut as starting quarterback? It doesn’t seem strangely convenient to you?”

  “No, of course not. I can’t believe you would even suggest that.”

  “I know you don’t want to hear it, Jette, but he was willing to cancel it all if his lackey couldn’t guarantee the press would show up.”

  I look at him with disbelief and contempt. “That’s not true. You’re lying. Why would you say such a thing?”

  “Fine, don’t believe me. Go ask Emmy. She’s been very chatty lately. It seems her little boy toy was calling all the shots. He set up the jeweler. He got the press to show up. He orchestrated the entire event. I wouldn’t be surprised if he wrote the script that Evan read, word for word. It was a great show, I must admit.” His eyes flash over me as if he’s taking my inventory and he doesn’t like what he sees.

  “You think it was all a show?” I try to focus on what I know to be true. I love Evan and I know he feels the same way.

  “Well, maybe not all of it. He’s not a fool. He knows he needs to hold onto you before football season starts and he’s travelling all over the country. I’m just saying he’s allowing the media to run your lives and I didn’t think that was the life you wanted for yourself.” His accusations are really starting to piss me off.

  “And are you saying that my life would be better if I were with someone else? Someone more like you, maybe?”

  “Well, it would be less complicated, that’s for sure. Besides, it’s only a matter of time before he screws up and cheats on you. He’s never been very good at keeping it in his pants.” It may be true that losing him was always my biggest fear, that someone might come along with more to offer and whisk him away, but not any more. But being reminded of that nagging fear is not something I welcome.