“Do you remember this song?” he asked.
She nodded. “‘Truly Madly Deeply.’”
“It’s the song that was playing the first time we ever danced together,” he reminded her.
“I didn’t think you remembered,” she admitted.
“I remember every second of that first dance,” he assured her. “Of our first kiss, and the first time we made love.”
He kissed her then—a soft and surprisingly sweet kiss, the kind of kiss that she’d yearned for the night of her prom. But she wasn’t a naive seventeen-year-old girl anymore, and her yearnings weren’t nearly as innocent as they’d been twelve years earlier.
“I didn’t call Paris,” he told her now.
“Why?”
“Because even if you’re okay with me dating other women, I’m not. I don’t want any woman but you.”
Her heart swelled inside her chest, but her brain continued to urge caution.
“For twelve years, every other woman I’ve dated has been a pale substitute for the one woman I really wanted but didn’t believe I’d ever have—you. And I don’t want to spend the next twelve years doing the same thing in a futile effort to get over you, because I know it won’t ever happen.”
“It’s only been two weeks,” she pointed out.
He tipped her chin up so that she could see the truth of his feelings in his eyes. “Two weeks, two months, two years—it doesn’t matter,” he told her. “It’s always been you for me. Only you.”
And those words, spoken from his heart, began to heal the broken pieces of her own.
“It’s always been you for me,” she admitted, as she led him to her bedroom. “Only you.”
He framed her face in his hands and kissed her again.
“I’ve missed you.” He whispered the confession against her lips. “I was going crazy, wondering if I’d ever be here with you like this again. If I’d ever have the chance to hold you, touch you, love you.”
“Love me now,” she suggested.
“I will.” He kissed her once. “I am.” Then again. “I do.”
They quickly dispensed with their clothing, then fell together on top of her bed, a tangle of limbs and needs. Their mouths collided, clung; hands stroked, seduced; bodies merged, mated. The rhythm of their lovemaking was familiar—and somehow different. This time, all the illusions and pretensions had been stripped away by the acknowledgment of their feelings for one another, discarded like the garments that littered the floor. Now they were just a man and a woman, loving one another—and it was all either of them wanted or needed.
“I love you, Tristyn,” he said.
To hear the words now, to know they were true, filled her heart to overflowing. “I love you, too,” she admitted. “I tried not to—but I couldn’t seem to help myself.”
“I’m not sorry about that,” he said. “I think I started to fall for you twelve years ago, but I wasn’t nearly ready to acknowledge the depth of my feelings for you then.” His lips curved in a wry smile. “Who am I kidding? I wasn’t ready to acknowledge the depth of my feelings for you even a few weeks ago. Because I knew that you were the perfect woman for the rest of my life—and I was having too much fun in the moment to think about the rest of my life.
“And then, you were no longer with me in the moment. And I realized that I didn’t want anything else as much as I wanted to be with you. Not just for the moment, but for always.”
“Really?”
“Really,” he assured her. “Over the past few weeks, I realized something else, too.”
“What’s that?”
“I think I’d like to have one or two kids of my own someday—if I could have them with you.”
“I really like the sound of that,” she told him.
“But while I was thinking about what I wanted for our future together, it occurred to me that your family—especially your cousin, my business partner and best friend—might not approve of us making plans to start a family before I put a ring on your finger.”
“Well, I didn’t think we were going to try to make a baby just yet,” she noted.
“Not just yet,” he confirmed, reaching into the pocket of his discarded jacket for the small velvet box. “But still—I’d like to do things in their proper order.”
Then he flipped open the lid to reveal the three-carat, emerald-cut diamond centered on a platinum band set with pavé diamonds.
Tristyn gasped. “Oh, Josh.”
“Daniel said that you’d have to be dazzled to ever agree to marry me.”
And she was dazzled—as much by his revelation as the ring. “You told Daniel you were planning to propose?”
“I needed to make sure my best friend would be my best man,” he told her. “So what do you say, Tristyn Garrett—will you marry me and turn ‘for now’ into ‘forever’?”
She threw her arms around his neck and drew his mouth down to hers. “There isn’t anything I want more.”
Epilogue
Over the past six years, nine of Tristyn’s cousins and both her sisters had married. Now, finally, it was her turn.
Once Josh had put his ring on her finger, he’d been eager to move from “engaged” to “married” as quickly as possible. Tristyn was excited about starting their life together, too, but she wanted to share the happy occasion with all their family and friends. They decided on an early spring date—on a non-race weekend, of course—at Trinity Church in downtown Charisma, with a bridal party reminiscent of a royal wedding.
Both Tristyn’s sisters stood up with her, and Charlotte, Emily, Kylie and Hanna were all flower girls. On the groom’s side, Josh had Daniel as his best man, champion race-car driver Ren D’Alesio as an usher, and though there were only two rings to be exchanged, there were five ring bearers: Jacob, Zachary, Logan, Henry and Liam.
“Afraid she’s going to be a no-show and leave you standing at the altar?” Daniel asked the question under his breath, as they watched the procession of flower girls make their way toward the front of the church.
“No,” Josh denied, unfazed by his friend’s teasing.
He didn’t believe for a minute that Tristyn would bail on him—on them. It might have taken them a long time to find their way to one another, but there was no doubt in either of their minds that this was it for both of them.
And when she finally appeared at the back of the church, the sight of her made his heart race like the number 722 car on the straightaway at Talladega. He didn’t know that the dress she was wearing was a tulle ball gown with a sweetheart neckline, back corset, chapel train and lace appliqués on the bodice and hem. He only knew that she took his breath away.
The ceremony did not go off without a hitch. Of course, with so many little ones in the wedding party, no one expected that it would. In the middle of the vows, Emily piped up to complain that her dress was scratchy and Henry pushed Liam off the dais, but through it all, Tristyn and Josh remained focused only on one another.
When the minister pronounced they were husband and wife, it was the end of the ceremony but only the beginning of the celebration. Hundreds of pictures were taken of the bride and the groom—alone and with various members of the wedding party, then more with other family members who were in attendance, including all the Garrett cousins from Pinehurst who had traveled to Charisma with their spouses and children for the occasion.
“How long do we have to stick around and make conversation with all these people?” Josh asked Tristyn.
“Considering that ‘all these people’ are our wedding guests—and many of them are family—a little while longer,” she told him.
“I’m eager to get my wife back to the
honeymoon suite so that I can peel that gorgeous wedding dress off her gorgeous body and we can consummate our marriage—and maybe get started on a family of our own.”
“You don’t want to take some time to get used to being husband and wife before we become daddy and mommy?”
“I’m ready.” He pulled her into his arms. “I’m ready for anything with you by my side.”
“And that’s where I’m going to be,” she promised him. “For now and forever.”
He kissed her then—not at the direction of the minister or for the benefit of their wedding guests, but simply because she was his wife now and he could kiss her anywhere and anytime that he wanted to. When he released her, he caught a flutter of movement out of the corner of his eye.
Tristyn laughed, obviously having noticed Ren waving the checkered flag, too. “I bet you’ve been looking for an opportunity to do that all day.”
“I have,” the driver agreed, then winked at her before passing the flag to the groom. “Because he’s obviously the big winner today.”
“He’s right,” Josh agreed as Ren moved away. “Today, I am the luckiest man in the world.”
“I think I got pretty lucky today, too,” his bride said.
“What do you think about saying goodbye to our guests and going somewhere that we can get luckier?” he asked.
She smiled. “That idea gets a definite green flag from me.”
And that’s what they did.
* * * * *
Catch up with the Garrett sisters!
Look for Lauryn’s story,
BUILDING THE PERFECT DADDY
And Jordyn’s story,
THE BACHELOR TAKES A BRIDE
Available wherever Harlequin books and ebooks are sold!
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MATCH MADE IN HAVEN
the new miniseries from award-winning author Brenda Harlen.
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Keep reading for an excerpt from THE BRONC RIDER’S BABY by Judy Duarte.
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The Bronc Rider's Baby
by Judy Duarte
Chapter One
Nate Gallagher had run with the bulls in Pamplona and ridden some of the toughest broncs in rodeos all over the country, but he’d never faced anything as scary and as unnerving as this.
What in the hell was he going to do with a premature baby girl? He’d bet he had champion belt buckles at home that weighed as much or more than she did.
The neonatal nurse, who’d just finished strapping little Jessica into her carrier, pointed to a white plastic bag bearing the hospital logo. “I’ve packed some bottles and formula for you to take home. Are you ready to go?”
Hell no. His heart was pounding so hard he thought it might break out of his chest, and he was sweating like crazy. But he’d be damned if he’d show any sign of fear.
“Yep.” He reached for the baby carrier that would fit into the car seat base he’d secured in the backseat of his pickup, amazed that it felt just as light now as it had when he’d brought it into the Brighton Valley Medical Center. If he hadn’t glanced inside where baby Jessica was dozing, he’d never know she was there. But she was there—and leaving the safety of the hospital to go with him.
Oh, man, this was happening way too fast. It had taken every bit of his courage to sign her release forms moments ago. Sure, she’d gained a pound or two since her birth. But why couldn’t they have kept her a little longer, until she’d grown bigger—like the size of a kid entering kindergarten?
If they had, he’d feel a lot better about dealing with her. At least she’d be able to talk and tell him if he was doing something wrong.
“Mr. Gallagher?” a soft, feminine voice said from behind him.
As he turned, he caught sight of a petite blonde in his peripheral vision. He might consider the attractive woman worth his full masculine attention if he’d met her in a bar, throwing back a shot of tequila with her friends. But here in a hospital, holding a patient file in her hands? All bets were off.
“Yes,” he said.
“I’m Anna Reynolds.”
Was he supposed to know her?
She must have sensed his confusion because she added, “I’m the social worker assigned to your case.”
Just the words social worker and case were an unsettling reminder of the years he’d spent in foster care and enough to stop him dead in his tracks. The only reason he’d stepped up and claimed paternity was to keep the tiny girl out of the system.
The woman—Anna, Ms. Reynolds or whatever he was supposed to call her—offered him a warm smile, no doubt meant to disarm him. “It’s standard procedure.”
For whom? The hospital? Or for the state of Texas?
He clutched the plastic handle and pulled the carrier close to his side, as if he could prevent anyone from taking the newborn away from him, his grip as tight as his gloved hand once held the braided leather rein on the back of a bronc charging out of a bucking chute.
“I’ll be stopping by your house regularly for a while,” she said.
Again with the smile. He had to admit it was a nice one. A pretty one. Under any other circumstances, he would look forward to having regular visits from the attractive blonde. But not when he knew she’d be checking up on him. Not when she had the power to remove little Jessica from his home.
And how weird was that? He was scared spitless to take custody of a child, a newborn, no less. Yet at the same time, he was hell-bent on keeping that baby safe.
And far, far away from Kenny Huddleston, the man responsible for her mother’s death.
Following Kenny’s brutal assault, Beth had gone into premature labor and later died of a brain bleed.
He wondered if the court had ordered the social worker’s involvement. “Does this have anything to do with Beth?”
“No, it doesn’t. Although I’m sorry for your loss.”
Nate nodded, accepting the condolences, although he couldn’t actually say he was grieving for Beth. Not that he didn’t care. He did. But he was more saddened by the child’s loss of her mother.
In truth, he really hadn’t known Beth all that well. If he
had, if they’d been closer, he might have been able to talk her out of going back to Kenny and marrying him. Or, at least, he might have convinced her to leave the guy before that fatal beating.
“The hospital sends me out to check on the families of preemies or seriously sick babies,” the social worker added. “The parents usually have a lot of questions and concerns when they take their little ones home after a stay in the NICU.”
She had that right. He’d be stressed and concerned even if Jessica had been born the size of a teenager. He glanced at the tiny girl, who didn’t look a thing like him. But then again, she really didn’t resemble Beth, either.
When he returned his gaze to Ms. Reynolds, he tried to manage a disarming smile of his own. “I won’t be taking her home right away. We’re going to stay on the ranch where I work. I’ll have plenty of help there.”
“That’s good. I’m glad you’ll have some support.” She opened the file she was holding and jotted down a note.
What had she written? Was it something about his judgment, his competency, his ability to parent?
If she weren’t so pretty—and if she didn’t have any power over him—he wouldn’t even consider making an excuse to escape her attention.
“I understand that you were recently granted custody,” she said.
It had taken a few days to get that ironed out, thanks to the help of an attorney, an overworked foster system and his friend’s connections.
“The baby is mine,” Nate said. “I’m her...father.” At least that’s what Beth had claimed.
Nate had his doubts, though. They’d only dated a short while. And the two times they’d had sex he’d used protection. If he had to guess, he’d say there was a far better chance that the child was Kenny’s.
“Do we have the address of the place where you’ll be staying?” Ms. Reynolds asked.
“Yep. You sure do. Are you familiar with the Rocking Chair Ranch?”
“I’ve heard about it. From what I understand, it’s a home for retired cowboys.”
The Last Single Garrett Page 20