Romance Through the Ages

by Amy Harmon

  “Then I would have wanted to say yes.”

  A slow smile stretched across his face. “Really? You who hates change?”

  “Really.” Here, in Luke’s arms, change didn’t seem that scary anymore. In fact, it seemed downright exciting. It was a strange phenomenon, and yet not strange at the same time. Maybe Luke was the reason Taycee had been so attached to Shelter Springs in the first place. Maybe his memory had been what kept her here all these years, along with a deeply buried hope that someday he’d return.

  And now that he had, home was no longer Shelter Springs, Colorado. Home was Luke.

  Epilogue

  Three Months Later

  Taycee passed through security at the airport and scanned the throng of people milling about. When she finally spotted Luke, leaning against a pillar and looking around for her, a happy smile broke across her face. It had only been three days, but it felt like an eternity. 70 hours too long. Next time she’d make him come with her.

  Luke’s eyes connected with hers, and a slow smile spread over his face. He pushed away from the pillar and made his way toward her. She quickened her steps and walked straight into his open arms, breathing in his familiar clean scent as he pulled her close.

  “I missed you,” she murmured against his chest.

  “Likewise.” He kissed her forehead, and then took her bag and slung it over his shoulder. His arm rested against the small of her back as he guided her toward the airport parking lot. “So, how does it feel to finally land your first big wedding gig?”

  Taycee laughed. “Like nepotism. The only reason Caleb and Jenny want me to do their flowers is because I come with a family discount. I like her though. A lot. She’s perfect for my brother and will fit in great.”

  ”So you’re saying she’s stubborn, ornery when she doesn’t get fed, and has a police record?”

  “No.” Taycee poked him in the ribs. “I’m saying she’s pretty awesome.”

  “Oh, right. That too.”

  Once inside Luke’s truck, Taycee scooted across the faded upholstery to the center, where she leaned against his shoulder and rested her hand on his knee. As they pulled from the parking garage, Luke said, “Since we’re already in Denver, I was thinking we could hit a movie tonight. What do you think?”

  Not her first choice, since she’d rather snuggle up next to Luke on her comfy couch. “I think we should rent a movie, grab some take-out, and go back to my place.”

  “But Doomsday isn’t out on video yet,” Luke said as he merged onto the freeway and headed toward downtown Denver. He’d been trying to get her to see that movie for the past month, and every time he asked, she refused. A movie about aliens and mass destruction wasn’t her type of thing. Not even close—as he knew full well.

  “I told you to go to that stupid movie while I was gone,” Taycee complained.

  “How do you know it’s stupid if you haven’t seen it?”

  “The movie trailer.”

  “You might like it, you know.”

  “I really don’t think I will.”

  “I think you will. C’mon, Taycee Lynne. For me? Please?”

  Taycee hated it when he used her name against her, making it practically impossible to say no. “Fine,” she grumbled.

  Luke laughed and squeezed her hand. “Relax, I was only joking. There’s actually this really cool little cinema that plays older movies.” He cast a quick glance her way and cocked an eyebrow. “Want to guess what’s showing tonight?”

  “No way. Are you serious?” Sneakers hadn’t been that popular of a movie, at least not in comparison to shows like Titanic or Star Wars—movies that might draw a crowd. Seriously, who’d pay to see Sneakers?

  Taycee and Luke, that’s who.

  “I’m telling you, it’s providence,” said Luke. “We have to go.”

  “Agreed.”

  In no time at all, Luke pulled up to an old-style cinema. Sure enough, the word Sneakers was spelled out across a glowing white board in bold black letters. Taycee’s head shook at the sight. How did Luke even find this place?

  Inside, the seats were shabby and worn, but the theater was clean—and empty. Were they early? “What time does it start?”

  “Any minute now.” Luke eyed the dimly lit room. “Seriously, Robert Redford has to have more fans than just us.”

  Taycee laughed as she led him to the center of the room. “I actually love the thought of having this place to ourselves. It’s cool. C’mon, let’s sit.” She tugged him down beside her, instantly annoyed by the armrest that separated them. Her fingers laced through his, and she laid her head on his shoulder.

  A few minutes passed, and Luke’s foot began to tap against the carpeted floor. He shifted positions and glanced around, and then shifted and fidgeted yet again. It was almost comical sitting beside him, feeling each and every movement. What was he so anxious about?

  When he started biting on a nail, Taycee said, “So… how about the weather, huh?’

  Luke dropped his hand and eyed her with a look of confusion. “What?”

  She grinned. “You’re acting like a teenager out on his first date. Is something wrong?”

  “No.”

  “Then relax, would you? You’re making me nervous.”

  His foot stopped beating against the floor, but the second the lights dimmed, it started up again. Taycee bit back a laugh. What was up with him? Maybe he’d had too much caffeine.

  The screen lit up and turned green as the opening bars of Taylor Swift’s “Love Story” floated through the theater. The words “A True Love Story” appeared.

  Was this a preview? Taycee hoped so. She loved this song.

  As the opening strains of the song filled the theatre, a picture appeared: Ten-year-old Taycee in pigtails, sitting on the back of a horse and clinging to Luke’s waist. Taycee gasped as her hand flew to her mouth. What in the world? Luke’s hand suddenly felt clammy in hers.

  Another picture accompanied the lyrics, this time of Taycee, Caleb, and Luke hanging out at the swimming hole.

  The song continued as picture after picture of young Taycee and Luke appeared on the screen. There she was, posing and pointing to her newly affixed braces. Then came Luke, straddling his old dirt bike. Taycee, sitting atop his shoulders after a big football game and holding his helmet high in the air. It was all there. Every single one of her favorite pictures—pictures she’d kept buried at the bottom of her pajama drawer.

  Jessa.

  As the song continued, the poster for “Shelter’s Bachelorette” appeared with Taycee’s glamorized face. Luke’s bachelor picture flew into the bottom corner of the screen, followed by more pictures and short video clips of the opening social and their one official date.

  It was their story, Taycee and Luke’s. Tears stung her eyes, and she let them come, her hand still clinging to his. It was beautiful. Hands down the best movie she’d ever seen.

  Taylor Swift’s voice faded out, and one last picture of Taycee and Luke appeared, huddled together at the concert at Red Rocks, along with the words, “It’s a love story, Taycee Lynne say yes.”

  Her heart dropped to her feet as she blinked at the words, not daring to hope they meant what they could mean. The chair next to her squeaked as Luke slid to his knee and held out the most beautiful diamond ring she’d ever seen.

  “I love you, Taycee Lynne,” Luke’s voice trembled slightly. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you in Shelter Springs or anywhere else you want to go. Please say you’ll marry me.”

  More tears came. Not trusting herself to speak, Taycee stood and pulled him to his feet, throwing her arms around him and holding on as tight as she could.

  “Is that a yes? Because you haven’t said anything,” Luke whispered in her ear, his warm breath sending a jolt of shivers down her spine.

  “Yes,” she whispered back. Of course it was a yes.

  “Would you mind saying that a little louder? I didn’t quite catch it, and this is kind of an important an
swer.”

  “Yes!” Taycee choked out as she laughed and wiped at her eyes. She drew back far enough to see into his beautiful brown eyes—eyes she hoped would reappear in one of their future children.

  “That’s my girl,” Luke said, just before his warm lips met hers. Taycee melted against him. A sensation unlike any she’d ever felt careened through her body. It felt like every moment, every memory, every look, every touch, collided into one massive explosion, erupting over her in waves of happiness.

  When the pressure of his lips finally eased off, Luke’s forehead dropped to hers. He held the diamond ring between them. “Mind taking this off my hands?” he breathed. “I feel a little silly still holding it.”

  Taycee nodded, and he slipped it onto her trembling finger while she sniffed and laughed simultaneously. She was officially engaged. To Luke. “I love it,” she said, her eyes finding his once more. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” A hint of a smile touched his lips. Luke gave her hand a gentle tug, cocking his head toward the exit. “What do you say we get out of here?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  They trotted down the steps and walked hand-in-hand out the door and back to his beat-up truck. As she sat on the cracked and faded upholstery, she watched as he jiggled his keys and walked around to the other side. His easy, confident stride, his broad shoulders, those rich brown eyes.

  All hers.

  Five months ago if anyone had predicted this day would come, Taycee would have told them they were bonkers. No way would Luke ever move back. No way would she be the bachelorette and he the bachelor on some silly reality dating show. No way would all of her failed attempts to keep her heart safe culminate into the one thing she never imagined possible: Marrying the guy who’d stolen her heart all those years before and had never given it back.

  Turned out he didn’t have to.

  Author’s Note

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you so much for carving time out of your life to read one of my books. I hope it took you out of reality for awhile and into a world of escape and rejuvenation because everyone deserves that once in awhile.

  If you enjoyed this book and would like to be notified of new releases, fill out my New Release Form.

  I’d also love a review from you on Goodreads or Amazon or wherever else you’d be willing to post one. Word of mouth is the best kind of advertising there is, and I could really use your help to get the word out.

  You can find me at RachaelReneeAnderson.com.

  Thanks again, and happy reading!

  Rachael

  Other Works by Rachael Anderson

  Novels

  Working it Out

  Divinely Designed

  Luck of the Draw

  Minor Adjustments

  Anthologies

  All I Want: Three Holiday Romances

  The Timeless Romance Anthology: Summer Wedding Collection

  Coming soon

  Righting a Wrong (A Ripple Effects Romance Novella)

  Prejudice Meets Pride

  About Rachael Anderson

  Rachael Anderson is the author of four published books: Divinely Designed, Luck of the Draw, Minor Adjustments, and The Reluctant Bachelorette. She’s the mother of four and is pretty good at breaking up fights, or at least sending guilty parties to their rooms. She can’t sing, doesn’t dance, and despises tragedies. But she recently figured out how yeast works and can now make homemade bread, which she is really good at eating. You can find her online at RachaelReneeAnderson.com.

  Acknowledgments

  There are so many people who have helped me with this book. A big thanks to Wall-to-Wall Books for giving Shelter Springs its name. Buried in Books, for inspiring Sterling’s character. Kraig and Nancy, for your hilarious dating stories. Shauna, for sharing your clever and creative brain. And Rachel, for your keen eye and willingness to proofread this book.

  To Valorie, Letha, Shelly, Sarah, Lucy, and Cora—the best sisters in the world—for your listening ears, brilliant imaginations, willingness to read my earlier manuscripts, and encouragement. I love you all.

  To Braden and Rebecca, you guys rock. I couldn’t ask for better critique partners or friends. Thank you for your honesty, your invaluable help, and for being so willing to share your talents with me.

  Lastly, to my sweet kids for allowing me the time to write and for wanting to read my books, and to my husband, Jeff, for your love, support, patience, and for picking up the slack when I fall short. I love you.

  Pride and Precipitation

  Chick Flick Clique Romantic Comedy Novella #1

  by Heather Horrocks

  To all my girlfriends—past, present, and future—

  for lightening my load along life’s rocky path.

  Best friends. Writing friends. Sister friends.

  Faux sister friends. Sister-in-law friends.

  Gang of Five friends. Church friends. Neighbor friends.

  You are sisters of my heart and all of you, together,

  have made all the difference in getting me to this point in my life safe and sound.

  Thank you.

  And to Mark, who has never been a girlfriend to me

  (though he is my best friend).

  Chapter One

  Sunshine is delicious, rain is refreshing, wind braces us up, snow is exhilarating; there is really no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather. —John Ruskin

  Monday, April 1

  “Mom, Dad, I have something important to tell you.” Breezy Jones sucked in a deep breath as she stood on her higher-than-comfortable heels and straightened her skirt. She had to act casual or she couldn’t pull this off.

  On Breezy’s left, her mother looked up from loading the dishwasher and, at the far end of the breakfast nook table, her father lowered his newspaper. He had an iPad, but would doubtless cling to his daily print newspaper right up until the day they stopped delivering, probably because it looked silly to hide behind an iPad.

  “Have a seat, Mom.” Breezy bit the inside of her lip. “You’ll need it.”

  Her mother circled the counter and sat next to her father, and both watched Breezy expectantly. They made such an adorable pair. Her big, strong, silver-haired, handsome father and her petite, cute-as-a-button, flibbertigibbet blonde mother. Apparently opposites did attract.

  “I don’t know how to say this other than to just say it.” Breezy sighed dramatically, and then lowered the April Fool’s boom. “I got fired from the station.”

  Other than her mother’s ferocious gasp as she placed her hand to her heart, the kitchen was silent. Her father tipped his head and studied her.

  It only took a moment for her mother to recover her voice and jump up from the table. With a worried look, she said, “Breanne, you cannot have been fired. Everyone loves you at the station. Your ratings are high. Your forecasts are accurate. What on earth would they fire you for? This has got to be a horrible misunderstanding.” She looked over at her husband, who set the newspaper on his lap. “Your father will go to the station with you and straighten this out. Tell her you will, Arthur.”

  Before her father could say anything, her mother whirled back around. “This is awful. You’ll be ruined. Your career could be over before it’s even begun.”

  Her father adjusted his glasses, smiled gently, and drew in a deep breath. “It’s April Fool’s Day, Emily.” He winked at Breezy, who couldn’t resist smiling back.

  Her mother looked at her husband, then at Breezy. She narrowed her eyes. “I do not appreciate this at all, Breanne Jones.”

  Breezy laughed as her smiling father ducked behind the newspaper again. “It is April Fool’s Day, after all, Mom, and I figured you must have already gotten a call from Kendra saying her house had been struck by a hurricane or something.”

  “No. Your sister has not called to give me any heart attacks today.”

  “The day’s still young,” Dad said, newspaper still in front of his
face.

  “I’m sure I’ve aged ten years from the shock.” Shaking her finger at her daughter, Breezy’s mother said, “Don’t do that to me, Breezy. I mean it. My heart can’t take it.”

  “Okay. I won’t do it again.” Breezy wrapped an arm around her mother’s shoulders. “I almost told you I was pregnant, but I didn’t think you would find that very funny.”

  “I didn’t think this was funny.” Her mother frowned. “And you’re not even dating anyone. Heaven knows I wish you were, and you know how much I want grandchildren, but I’m glad you know you’ve got to have a husband first.”

  Breezy squeezed her mother’s shoulders and stepped over to the table, moving the bowl of strawberries to the counter. “That’s the general idea.”

  Her mother touched her arm. “After you’re married, Dear. Then you can announce you’re pregnant.”

  “Call us from the honeymoon suite to announce it, Breezy.” Dad’s voice floated over the weather section. “That would thrill your mother.”

  “The thought of a marriage would thrill me. When are you going to start dating again, Breezy? You and Kendra are twenty-eight and thirty. Your eggs are probably drying up as we speak. Can’t you hear your biological clock ticking? Because I can.”

  “The only thing Breezy hears is the weather.”

  Now that was true. And Dad should know. They were kindred spirits.

  “Look who’s talking,” Mom said. “Weatherman for thirty years.”

  “And retired just in time to pass the mantle on to my daughter.” Dad looked over the paper again, fondness in his eyes. “How are things going at the station?”

  “Wonderful.” Breezy laughed. “Though there are a few changes I’d like to make. Shake things up a bit.”

  Dad laughed. “Good luck with that bunch in management.”