by Lily Everett
Greta’s fingers trembled as they flipped open the box, and Miles drew in his breath at the sight of the slim platinum band and princess-cut diamond he’d last seen on his mother’s finger.
“It’s beautiful.” Greta touched the tip of one finger to the sparkling baguettes that flanked the central diamond. “But I can’t accept this. Miles, it’s too much, you don’t even know—”
Miles clamped his hands on her hips. “Yes, you can. I love you, and you love me. Marry me and we’ll spend the rest of our lives having adventures and living out your fairy tale.”
“The rest of our lives.” Greta blew out a breath, and when she met his gaze, the depth of terror in her eyes struck a blow at Miles’s heart. “What if I can’t promise you more than a few years? Will you still want to give me this ring?”
Miles struggled to control his rising fear. “What do you mean?”
Closing the jewelry box with a snap that made them both wince, Greta said, “Kidney transplants don’t last forever. I could get lucky, since my kidney is from a close, living relative—I might have a couple of decades. But it could be less, there’s no way to know for sure.”
Scrambling to make sense of this, Miles fell back on the problem-solving skills drilled into him as a CEO. “Okay. That sucks. But when it fails, you can get another kidney transplant, right?”
“Or go on dialysis.” The corners of her mouth turned down. “Either way, it’s going to be … pretty awful.”
Light dawned behind Miles’s eyes. “And you’ve been living with this sword hanging over your head since you were, what, seventeen?”
Greta nodded, biting her lip. “I couldn’t ask or expect you to sign up for that life, never knowing when to expect disaster to strike, but always knowing it’s around the corner, waiting for you.”
“But don’t you see,” Miles argued, “that’s every life. You think I don’t have nightmares about losing members of my family, after what happened to my parents? I do. And one day, unless by God’s good grace I die first, it will happen. Disaster will strike like lightning; it’s the only guarantee in life. All we can do is choose who we want at our sides when the storm breaks.”
“And you want me? A woman with a lemon of a body, who’s never done anything with her life and still lives with her mother?”
Miles hooked a hand behind her neck to drag her down for a kiss. “I want you, the woman who conquered her fears and stood on top of the world with me. I want the woman who reminded me that I owe my family more than protection. I want the woman who … God. The woman my mother would have absolutely adored. Greta, I want you.”
Greta sobbed against his mouth, kissing him back through the tears streaming down her cheeks.
When they came up for air a lifetime later, Miles rasped, “Is that a yes?”
In answer, Greta picked up the box she’d dropped on the counter beside them and opened it. “Put it on me,” she ordered in a tear-clogged voice. “Give me my fairy tale ending, damn it.”
The band slid smoothly onto the ring finger of her left hand and nestled there as if it had been made for Greta. Blinking away the hot sting behind his eyes, Miles said, “Our fairy tale is a little out of the ordinary.”
“How so?”
Kissing her hand, the one wearing his ring, gave Miles a primal thrill of possession. “In our story, the beautiful maiden is the one who rescues the prince. With this ring, you’re saving me from a life of nothing but cold, solitary duty and obligation. You and this island gave me back my brothers, my family—and now I get to live happily ever after with you.”
Humming happily, Greta locked her ankles together behind Miles’s back, curving down to whisper into his ear. “No matter where we go or what adventures we have, we’ll always find our way home … because, for me, home is wherever you are.”
One year later …
Miles Harrington stared out over the neat, manicured rows of flowering bushes, his heart so swollen with love he could barely breathe around it.
This whole having-emotions thing was definitely not for the weak and wimpy.
“Nana would have loved this,” Dylan said quietly as he stepped up beside him.
Miles tactfully ignored the break in his youngest brother’s voice, because he was considerate like that. And because he hoped Dylan would return the favor. “So would Mom.”
Logan straightened from where he’d knelt in the freshly turned soil to examine the rooting of the rose cuttings from their grandmother’s garden. “What woman wouldn’t like having a public garden built in her honor?”
The Harrington Memorial Rose Garden was full to bursting, its winding gravel pathways and romantic stone benches covered with people who’d come to enjoy the dedication ceremony for the brand new park. Miles closed his eyes to the throngs of townsfolk moving placidly through the rose bushes, stopping to exclaim over an exuberant yellow blossom here or to sniff a tiny tea rose there, and simply breathed in the warmth and joy of this special place.
When he opened his eyes, his darling wife was smiling up at him. Even after all these months, it still thrilled him to be able to reach out and draw her into his arms. Miles cherished the way she leaned trustingly into him, the steady balance of their bodies together so much stronger than either of them could be on their own.
“Have you figured out what you’re going to say yet?” Greta teased softly.
Miles punished her with a pinch to the rear, which only made her grin. She’d ruthlessly distracted him on the helicopter ride down, taking advantage of their last few hours of total privacy before spending a week on Sanctuary Island with both their families.
“I’ve got a few ideas.” It wasn’t a lie; he knew the basics of what he wanted to tell the people of Sanctuary about the Harrington brothers’ reasons for donating the park. “Don’t worry. I regularly face down hordes of shareholders and board members. I think I can handle one little dedication ceremony.”
A musical laugh from behind him prompted Miles to glance at Jessica Bell, Logan’s ex-assistant, now fiancée. “I promise Logan won’t pass out, at least. Will that help?”
“It’s a start,” Miles told her, even as his middle brother grumbled that if they didn’t get this show on the road, passing out would be the least of his problems. For all that Jessica had done to bring Logan back into the world, get him healthy and help him reconnect with his family, he still wasn’t a huge fan of crowds.
Before Miles could take pity on him and step up to the temporary podium the town council had erected for the ceremony, his gaze snagged on a very pregnant woman making her slow, deliberate way toward them through the crowd. He couldn’t control the clench in his heart or the worry he knew would be visible in his eyes as he glanced down to check on Greta.
But his sweet wife gave no indication of anything other than pure joy at the sight of her best friend looking round-bellied and serenely content. “Penny, oh my gosh, you’re radiant!”
“Hmm. If by ‘radiant’ you mean ‘sweating like a pitcher of sweet tea in July,’ then yes, absolutely,” Penny huffed, pressing a hand to her lower back. Dylan was at her side in an instant, hovering in that worried, helpless way all expectant fathers seemed to have.
Miles breathed out through his mouth and very consciously did not curl his hands into frustrated fists. He knew a little something about worry and helplessness, even if he and Greta hadn’t managed to conceive.
Shoving down the pain of that thought, he reminded himself that today was not about sadness and regret for what they didn’t have, but about honoring the gift they’d been given—the chance for love and happiness bequeathed to the Harrington brothers by their parents, their grandparents, and Sanctuary Island.
Be grateful, he reminded himself fiercely. Only an idiot would ruin a day like today by wanting what might never be.
“You okay?” Greta tugged him aside for a private murmur. The concern in her bittersweet chocolate eyes tugged at his heart. In the past year, the connection between them had gr
own and deepened until sometimes it seemed she could read his heart like a picture book.
Determined to live in this glorious moment, with his brothers and their happy wives around him, and his own beautiful bride warm and safe and vital in his arms, Miles nodded. “Just thinking about things.”
Of course, that wasn’t enough to put Greta off. Gentle and relentless, she searched his expression. “Remembering your parents?”
Part of Miles wanted to grasp at that very plausible excuse for the sudden cloud over his head. It even had the advantage of being mostly true—his parents certainly had been on his mind a lot lately. Ever since Penny and Dylan shared their happy news, in fact.
But Miles had promised Greta a long time ago that he’d never lie to her again. And not only that, he’d promised to be open. As he’d discovered, opening himself and making himself vulnerable was tough. He had to work at it, and maybe he always would. But when he met Greta’s dark, understanding gaze, he knew it was worth it.
“Yeah, I’m thinking about Mom and Dad, and how much they would have loved to be here with us today. How much they’d love to see this garden, and the Island Road house, and all three of their boys so happy. Especially…”
Without meaning to, Miles felt his stare slide to Penny’s pregnant glow and Dylan’s proud, terrified smile. Snapping his attention back to his wife, Miles prayed she hadn’t noticed the direction of his glance … but Greta noticed everything about him.
Her voice soft, she murmured, “You wish your parents were alive to see the next generation of Harringtons.”
Miles shrugged, uncomfortable with what that implied. “It’s not about carrying on the family name or having someone to inherit the family company. It’s just … our parents instilled love in us. They taught us how to do it, and even though some of us may have forgotten the way for a while there, we’re all back on track now.”
I’d give anything to be able to teach my own child how to love.
He bit the words back. His promise to be open only went so far—he wouldn’t wound Greta or himself by bringing up the one dark blot on their happy union.
But Greta, as always, heard exactly what he wasn’t saying. “You want what Penny and Dylan have.”
Guilt raked vicious claws down Miles’s ribcage. “I want you,” he growled. “No matter what comes, whether we’re blessed with kids or not, whether we adopt or just act like the most indulgent, spoiling aunt and uncle ever—however our family grows, you’re the heart of it. You’re my heart. I’ll be happy as long as I have you.”
Greta leaned up to lay her mouth across his, a searing kiss that Miles felt all the way to the center of his soul.
“But what if you could have more?” she whispered against his lips.
Miles froze, every muscle in his body going into lockdown. “The doctor said, because of your illness—it could take years. It might never happen—…”
A slow, secret smile curved Greta’s pink lips. “Doctors don’t know everything.”
He pulled back, afraid to ask, afraid to hear the answer … but Greta was looking at him steadily, not a trace of fear in the supple lines of her body. Her courage lifted him up. “What are you saying?”
Joy lit her face like a sunrise as her hand slipped down to her still-flat belly. “I’m pregnant. Against all the odds and after all the heartache, my body finally does exactly what I want it to do.”
“We’re having a baby.” Saying the words out loud shook Miles to the core, an explosion like fireworks detonating his heart and breaking him into a million pieces.
Greta nodded, happy tears dotting the corners of her eyes. “In the spring. I was going to wait until tonight to tell you, but you looked like you needed it now.”
Sweeping her up, Miles fought to balance his desire to crush her to him with his new, urgent need to handle her like she was made of fine-spun glass. “You always know exactly what I need.”
She laughed in his ear, but it could have been a sob. Miles clutched her tighter and felt his world realign itself around them as happy chatter and the scent of ripe roses filled the air.
He let Greta’s toes touch the grass again and they steadied each other for a dizzy moment of perfect connection. There was so much to talk about, so many things to work out, a thousand plans to make and details to consider … but when Greta tilted her chin up again, her kiss grounded Miles in the moment. They breathed for a second, in sync and enjoying it.
Miles touched his forehead to hers. “I’ll never be able to smell a rose without remembering this day.”
“I’ll let Cleo know she’s got a new shortcut to cheering you up after a crappy meeting.”
Laughing, Miles lifted one of Greta’s hands and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Look at you, giving away all my secrets and ruining my reputation. I’m supposed to be the big, bad, scary boss.”
Greta shook her head. “Nope. You’re supposed to be happy.”
Coughing to clear his tight, scratchy throat, Miles said, “Mission accomplished.”
“Uh, guys? I hate to interrupt.” Jessica, who’d never met an event she didn’t want to organize, appeared to have taken over managing the dedication ceremony. She stepped up with an apologetic smile and tilted her head in the direction of the podium. “I think it’s about time to start. If we wait much longer, we’re going to lose Logan.”
Miles glanced past her to where his younger brother stood, arms crossed and scowling gaze directed up at the sky, while a local dairy farmer talked his ear off. Huffing out a laugh, Miles gave Jessica a nod before squeezing Greta close for one last kiss. For some reason, he was having a hard time letting go of her.
“Go do your thing,” she whispered in his ear, a smile audible in her tone. “We’ll be right here waiting for you. Daddy.”
The promise in that word, and the glint in Greta’s brown eyes as she pulled away, gave Miles the shove he needed to get him over to the podium. Holding up his arms to get everyone’s attention, he waited for the crowd to turn and gather close.
With a sigh of relief, Logan abandoned his one-sided conversation and moved to Miles’s right just as Dylan came forward to flank him on the left. Jessica and Greta joined Penny at the stone bench where she’d settled to one side of the podium, and suddenly Miles knew exactly what he wanted to say.
“If you’d told me a year ago that I’d be standing shoulder to shoulder with my two brothers, and that all three of us would have found the loves of our lives, I would’ve laughed in your face. Actually, no. I didn’t do a lot of laughing back then—I probably would have sneered, and maybe had you fired. What can I say? I was a bit of a jerk.”
“A bit?” Dylan snarked under his breath, with an affectionate shove of his shoulder.
“Back then?” Logan didn’t drop his smirk when Miles shot him a mock-angry glare.
“As I was saying,” Miles continued with emphasis. “That was the old me. That was before I’d ever visited Sanctuary Island.”
There were proud smiles and nods as an approving murmur hummed through the crowd. These people loved their town, and Miles could understand why.
“This island is special,” he said simply. “Warm, welcoming, friendly, and so beautiful it feels like stepping into a dream. But it’s real. And it’s the place where all three of the Harrington brothers found love.”
A raucous cheer from the back made Miles grin. He’d recognize Greta’s loud-mouthed, boisterous brothers anywhere. “As far as we’re concerned, Sanctuary Island is the most romantic place on earth. So to honor that, and also to honor our family’s longstanding connection to the island, we decided to donate this beautiful public park to the people of Sanctuary Island. We planted the garden using cuttings from my grandmother’s roses—all of these gorgeous blooms came from heirloom bushes lovingly raised by Bette Harrington for the summer home she adored.”
Dylan shot him a sidelong glance, the corner of his mouth kicked up into a half smile. Miles clapped him on the shoulder, reaching out to drag Log
an into the brother huddle with them. “This island has been good to our family,” Miles said hoarsely. “And we wanted to show our gratitude to all of you, and to everyone who comes after. May this garden see many more couples falling in love and planning their futures on Sanctuary Island.”
As the crowd broke into cheers and applause and his brothers started shaking hands and laughing with their new neighbors, Miles’s gaze found Greta. She dropped the hands covering her trembling lips to mouth the words, “I love you,” and Miles felt their impact in his chest.
Sanctuary Island had given them everything: their family, their friends, their future … and a love so deep, it was destined to be the true legacy they passed down to their children.
ALSO BY LILY EVERETT
Sanctuary Island
Shoreline Drive
AVAILABLE FROM ST. MARTIN’S PAPERBACKS
About the Author
Lily Everett grew up in a small town in Virginia reading Misty of Chincoteague and Black Beauty, taking riding lessons, and longing for a horse of her own. Sadly, her parents gave her a college education instead—but she never forgot what the world looked like from the back of a horse. She currently lives in Austin, Texas, where she writes full-time.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
HOMECOMING: THE BILLIONAIRE BROTHERS
Copyright © 2014 Lily Everett.
“Firefly Café” copyright © 2013 by Lily Everett.
“The Summer Cottage” copyright © 2013 by Lily Everett.
“Island Road” copyright © 2013 by Lily Everett.
“One Year Later…” copyright © 2014 by Lily Everett.
Cover design by Elsie Lyons
Cover photographs: couple © Phase4Studios/Shutterstock.com;
lake © Ross Chandler/Getty Images
All rights reserved.
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