by Ava Miles
“And pigs fly.” She undid it slowly, goosebumps dancing across her skin. “You also didn’t buy this present yourself, since you’ve been in the hospital.”
“Maybe I ordered it online?”
“Right.”
“Oh, shut up and open it. You’re driving me crazy.”
“Ditto.”
“Jill and Peg helped after I told them what I wanted. Then your grandpa threw in a hand. Could have blown me over if I hadn’t already been flat on my ass.”
When she parted the tissue, she pursed her mouth. A cotton tank in pale pink lay artfully folded, monogrammed with MW.
MW?
Jeez, he really was zonked out on drugs. She tucked her tongue in her cheek, wondering if Jill had told him she used to wear cotton. God knows Jill would have zero compunction about talking about her underwear.
He wiggled closer to the rail. “What’s the matter? Don’t you like it?”
“It’s lovely.”
“But…”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Since we’re all Truth or Dare now, I hate to tell you this, but you got my initials wrong.”
His scowl made his bruises shift. “Dammit, I told them to put it on top. Keep looking.”
When she lifted the tank, her mind went blank.
Her grandmother’s ring winked at her. She picked it up, remembering how she used to twist it and make a wish when she was a little girl. Her grandma had told her it was a special ring. It had brought her true love. She’d hoped to inherit it and wear it for her marriage with Richard, but her grandpa hadn’t said a word. His disapproval had been clear from the start.
Tears burned her eyes as she clutched the ring to her chest. “My grandpa gave you this?”
Tanner cleared his throat. “It was his way of showing me he wasn’t going to kick my ass…and letting me know your family approves of me sticking around and persuading you to marry me.”
Her breath rushed out. A bunch of messy emotions jogged up her throat, making her fear she’d do something girly and bawl. She reined it in. She was not going to bawl while her hero asked her to marry him.
“I see,” she rasped.
He gestured with his good arm. “I want something different now. I want to settle down with you. Have a few kids like Keith, who’ll paper our refrigerator with their drawings.” He pointed to a paper card decorated with a lopsided heart and Keith’s name in a blue crayon.
“Is that what you’re suggesting?” she squeaked out when she could finally speak through her suddenly dry mouth.
She hadn’t expected this. No, not at all.
He snapped down the rail separating them. “Yes, and I’m doing a damn poor job of it. Look, I know your divorce wasn’t that long ago, but I love you.”
The intensity of his expression made a tear slide free.
“I want to marry you. I want kids with you. The whole she-bang.” His mouth turned up in a nervous smile as he took a deep breath. “I know you’ll need time to start trusting me again, but I want you to know that I’m in this for the long haul. I’m going to extend my teaching position, and if you’re okay with it, I want to help out at the paper. Your grandpa has a desk waiting for me.”
Oh, her sweet gramps. She fingered the cotton tank, soft as a baby’s skin. God, he’d mentioned wanting babies. Her mind skyrocketed with possibilities.
“Why the tank?”
His ears turned a pleasant red. “Well, you said you wore cotton before, so I thought you might consider a new alter ego.”
When she lifted her eyes to his, his mouth turned up. “Married Woman.”
She pressed her hands to his rough face. “You’re too funny. I bought my first cotton underwear since the divorce in New York. While I’ll bring the La Perla out every once in a while, I don’t need it to show me who I am anymore.”
“Who you are is beautiful.” He grabbed her hand and raised it to his lips, kissing it like an old-world gentleman. “I love you.”
Her whole body relaxed. “I love you, too.”
“I won’t rush you, I promise. I know you like to take your time.”
She thrust the ring toward him. “Some things don’t need more time. I thought I was going to lose you, Tanner.”
He shuttered out a sigh. “Me too.”
When she looked into his eyes, she saw herself. It really was true. You could see yourself in someone else’s eyes.
“I don’t want to wait.”
He pulled her against him with one arm, and she carefully wrapped her arms around him.
“God, I love you,” he whispered. “So much.”
His kiss gave her the punch, followed by the liquid tide of love, lust, and longing she had only found with him.
He pulled back and slid the ring onto her finger. “I would have followed you to New York.”
Oh that wicked gleam in his eyes. It was good to see it again.
“I’m where I belong. I just have one more article to write. Then I’ll be done.”
He drew her onto the bed beside him. “What’s it going to say?”
She traced his lips and settled her body against his.
“I’m going to write about how we found our happily ever after.”
Epilogue
“Nora Roberts Proven Correct: Happily Ever After Does Exist”
By Meredith Hale
If you read Nora Roberts, you are probably thinking, duh, of course Nora’s right, but honestly, I went through over a year feeling less than sure. Some people wouldn’t make a federal case out of it, but to me this topic was deeply personal. For the past four months, I was on assignment to debunk my ex-husband’s assertion that Nora Roberts’s novels ruined our marriage and led to our divorce. I dedicated myself to proving happily ever after existed. Trust me, it’s harder than it sounds.
Let’s back up a minute. Like many of you, I love (present tense) Nora’s books. There wasn’t a paperback or hardcover I hadn’t read. I spent hours enthralled by delicious romances with strong, sassy heroines and hot, dependable heroes. They bantered throughout the books while “finding” themselves, being encouraged and challenged by family, and sometimes even catching the bad guys. Regardless of the plot, you knew where you were going.
My mother picked up Nora’s first book in 1981. She used to tell my father she was heading to Nora Roberts Land when she’d steal away from laundry to read a new release. This land held magic and love.
When I came of age, she gave one to me. Like its title, Sea Swept swept me away.
With over two hundred books in print—a record in publishing—Nora has influenced an entire generation of women. I’m part of that generation. She’s shaped the way I want love, sex, and relationships to work. I’ve always felt better about life after reading a Nora Roberts book. They made me believe in happily ever after.
I believed in it when I said my vows and when my husband and I started our life together. Things didn’t work out as I’d expected. He had his faults. I had mine.
However, instead of letting bygones be bygones, my ex zinged me with the notion that Nora’s books were pure fiction. Love didn’t exist in the real world like that, he said. Reading Nora had given me artificial expectations about what a real relationship entailed.
We got divorced. I stopped reading Nora (and J.D. Robb too—don’t hate me). Worse, I suspected my ex might have been right.
A year after I signed the divorce papers, I made a decision. I was not going to pooh-pooh Santa Claus anymore—okay, in this case, Nora Roberts Land. It was time to start believing in happily ever after again. Even more, it was time to find it.
I’m a journalist, so I investigate. I journeyed to my small hometown like one of Nora’s characters, broken down, but ready to rebuild my life, surrounded by my loving family. I went back to work at our family newspaper in the Rocky Mountains to give my dad some time off after his heart attack, telling no one of my real plans except my sister—because you can trust your sister, right? I made a list of all the available Nora Roberts heroes in
our town. These included a firefighter, a forest ranger, a doctor, a college professor. Well, you get the drift.
Newly divorced as an early thirtysomething, my quest became a public amusement. The whole town thought I was on a Man Bender. But my heart wasn’t in it. Every date was about looking for negatives. Some guys made this super easy by not being particularly nice or by being downright boring.
Beyond the fact that my heart wasn’t in it, I’d lost my confidence. I felt like a failure and wondered what was wrong with me. Does any of this sound familiar to those of you who’ve been dumped? I even invented a superhero alter ego named Divorcée Woman to regain my courage. Armored in La Perla’s exquisite lingerie every day—bought with my alimony, thank you—I channeled sexiness, confidence, and female power. And you know what? It helped—for a while. So if you need a pick-me-up to help you regain what you’ve lost, find something. Once you’ve got your groove back, that crutch can slide away. Mine did.
And there was another thing bothering me. I wasn’t “supposed” to be dating anymore. I’d gotten married because I thought I was done with that part of my life. But no, I wasn’t. Single again, I had to get back out, and it really is a jungle out there. There’s a lack of anonymity when you date in a small town. The pitying glances and whispered comments followed me to Dare. There she is, the divorced Hale girl, coming home to get her head screwed back on after falling on her face for some guy in the big city. Of course, there are some who blamed the “big city” for my divorce. I guess everyone needs a reason.
Dating as a divorced thirtysomething isn’t what I would call fun. When was dating ever fun? There’s the initial awkwardness. The “is he or isn’t he going to pick up the check?” dilemma. And the whole first kiss nonsense. I preferred to wait and see if it was going to go anywhere, but others suggest getting it out of the way early. You have to go with what’s comfortable. But the worst thing, the absolutely worst thing beyond a dull, boring, or downright unattentive date is not being physically attracted to a great guy in front of you. If sexual attraction were the EASY button at Staples, we might all be better off as a civilization. Humans are often drawn to people who aren’t particularly good for them.
This was a problem I suffered from, or so I thought. I found myself attracted to the last man I would ever want to date. He was hot enough, smart enough, and funny enough, but he was in the same profession as my ex—a rabbit hole I did not want to fall down again—seemed to have zero interest in settling down, and made me pretty much unhinged by a single, intense look. If you’re thinking I ran about as fast as the Road Runner, you’d be right.
Like a good hero, he kept coming after me. How could I resist my own hot version of J.D. Robb’s timeless character, Roarke? Ladies, you know what I’m talking about. It wasn’t easy to open up again, but the right one makes it worth it. Like any Nora hero, he made me—the heroine—want to risk everything because the pay-off—love, fun, trust, and happily ever after—was worth it.
I’m happy to say we’re engaged now. I’m trading in my Divorcée Woman alter ego for Married Woman. And this time, it’s going to stick, because he’s The One. It really is true what they say. You simply “know” down to your core. So, this is my last editorial for this paper. My guy and I will be permanently working for my family’s paper in the Rocky Mountains. Isn’t that something out of a Nora Roberts book?
After the ups and downs I’ve been through, there’s a lot I learned. First, divorce isn’t the end of your life. It feels like it. It’s a horrible thing to go through, but it’s not the end. It’s only another beginning. Second, some men let you down. Some don’t. Look at the man in front of you and discern the difference. Third, forgive yourself. You were simply learning some important lessons, and that’s okay. Growing is messy. Fourth, when you don’t know what to do, plow ahead. You’ll run into something. I did. Fifth, opening yourself up to another person after your heart was torched, the ashes scattered to the four winds, is one of the bravest acts you can do. Yet, without love, our lives aren’t as radiant as they could be. Mine wasn’t. It’s cliché, but true. Lastly, with a little help from fate—scratch that, sometimes a big help—we make our own happy endings. But it’s a day-by-day process. Never forget that. I don’t plan to this time ‘round.
Happy endings do exist. You can go home, discover who you’ve really become, and find your match. Not Mr. Right or Prince Charming. I still don’t think they exist. If they do, who wants to live with them anyway? I have my faults. He has his. In the grand scheme of things, the world doesn’t end when our faults clash because it’s cushioned by love and commitment. Oh and a promise—just like my favorite J.D. Robb character, Eve Dallas, said.
So, I’m glad Nora was right all along. I can’t wait for the day I put her books in the hand of the daughter I hope to have and encourage her to expect her own happily ever after. We’re all better off believing in Nora Roberts Land.
It’s good to be home.
Dear Reader,
Thank you so much for spending your time in NORA ROBERTS LAND, where dreams come true and love conquers all. As you might expect, I am a big Nora Roberts fan and have been so grateful to have her blessing on using her name in the title and premise. This book actually is even more personal since my sister’s ex–husband essentially said the same thing as Rick–the–Dick to her when they were getting a divorce. It’s nice to turn that lemon into lemonade. And since I’m originally from a small town, I created Dare Valley to show my love for them.
If you enjoyed the book and want to give your own Nora fan shout–out, I’d love for you to give a review. As a new author, your opinion helps other readers want to read my books. You can do so here
I would also love for you to hear about my upcoming books in the Dare Valley series. Jill and Brian are up next in FRENCH ROAST, and if you want to receive any fun extras or enter our awesome contests, which will entail things like Don’t Soy with Me coffee cups, you can sign up for my newsletter and connect with me on Facebook. I’ve also included an excerpt from FRENCH ROAST if you turn the page.
Thanks again for making my dreams come true as an author. I look forward to getting to know you along with all of the other characters in Dare Valley. Grandpa says hi, by the way.
Happy reading,
Ava
Coming Soon
The Dare Valley Series continues…
Book 2: FRENCH ROAST
Jill and Brian’s story
Available August 13
Small-town biz wiz Jill Hale has been in love with her childhood best friend Brian McConnell for as long as she can remember. A falling out led to years of estrangement, but when Brian returns to Dare Valley after trying to make it big as a chef in New York City, Jill’s determined to make amends. She’s convinced that starting a restaurant together will be the perfect win–win situation, allowing her and Brian to work together and play together.
After a series of missteps sliced and diced Brian’s career in the Big Apple, he came home to regroup and find himself. He’s convinced that reestablishing his connection with Jill, the girl who got away, will put his life back on track. And when she approaches him with her plan for going into business together, he’s certain it’s the one way he can have it all—his dream job and his dream girl.
Jill and Brian are falling for each other all over again when Brian’s ex sashays into town, intent on sabotaging their reunion. Add in a mysterious investor who’s determined to get Jill on board with his project, and the bond between the couple is tested to the limit. Will their second chance at love implode, or will they find their own recipe for a happy ending?
And Coming September 24
Book 3: THE GRAND OPENING
Are you ready for Jill and Brian’s story?
HERE’S AN EXCERPT FROM FRENCH ROAST
Jill realized she’d do pretty much anything for this man. Hike the Continental Divide in the snow. Darn holes in socks. Cripes, she needed to get a clue. Or a life.
“No…I th
ought I’d drop by and see if you wanted to come to dinner tonight. I’ll cook.”
Her head darted back. They’d been spending time together over the past few months, but cooking…from scratch. This was new.
“Like a real date?” she asked. Dammit, maybe the whole fire truck ride had infused her with life–and–death energy, but she wanted to be clear.
“Ah, sure. If you want to call it that.” He jiggled change in his pocket, ducking his head, hitching his shoulder up like he did when he was nervous. “I want to cook for you.”
He did? Her heart warmed like she was holding a puppy. “That’d be awesome! I’d love that. I mean…” Overdone, she realized. “Great, simply great.” Shut up, Jill.
“Why don’t you pop by at seven?”
“Can I bring something?”
“Just yourself.”
And the way he said it made her knees quiver, actually quiver.
“Great!” she breathed out and ground her teeth. Maybe she should study the dictionary so she could learn to form cohesive sentences.
“Okay.” He edged back. Then, he rushed forward to kiss her cheek. “See ya then.” He turned, bumped into the table, and cruised out, not looking back.
Jill righted the paper cup he’d knocked over, fighting the urge to touch her cheek. The patrons’ muffled chuckles only made her lovesick grin grow wider.
She wasn’t the only one off her rocker. Brian was making a real move.
It was about damn time.
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Ava Miles
Ava Miles has always known what she appreciates the most about romance novels. It’s the affirmation of romantic love and the guarantee of a “happily ever after”. Which made it all the more incomprehensible when her sister Michelle’s ex–husband concluded that Michelle reading Nora Roberts’ books was to blame for their divorce. It was only later that Ava realized she had the hook for a new story and her first contemporary romance, NORA ROBERTS LAND, was born.