“Jasper.” She threw her arms around his neck and pressed her forehead to his chin. “I love you so much.”
“I know, babe.” He held her close. “I love you too. Marrying you was the wildest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I’ve never regretted it. Not for a single second.”
Her gasp tickled his skin. He felt her hand on his cheek a moment before she laid her mouth on his. Her eyes stared into his with such wonder, it humbled him. “That’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever said to me,” she said against his lips.
He pulled her up to straddle him, sitting up to put his back to the headboard.
“Stick with me, and I’ll top it.”
“Is that what happens next? We just…stick?”
“What happens next,” he said, gently brushing dark strands back from her face, “is we find our happy.”
“Willow said something like that to me yesterday morning. She said people find what makes them happy at Casa Blanca.”
“She’s right, because you make me happy, Quinn. Even when you’re driving me crazy, I’m the happiest man on the planet if I can go down that rabbit hole with you.”
“Jasper.”
“If living on the road and bouncing from place to place is what you need, I’m good with that so long as you always come home to me.” She ducked her head. “That’s not what you want?”
“No, it’s not that.” She petted his shoulders. He waited her out. “You thought I left you again, didn’t you? In Luke’s office, when I didn’t come back from the bathroom, you thought I’d run away from you again.”
“For about five minutes,” he admitted. “And then I realized the woman who said she can’t unlove me would never do that. Not again.”
He waited patiently while she carefully searched his face, knowing what she’d see.
“You trust me,” she finally correctly concluded.
“I trust you to make me laugh. I trust you to turn me on. I trust you to have my back.” His thumb tugged her lip free of her teeth. “I trust you to hold my heart.” He felt a part of it break off at her tremulous smile. “I’m not trusting you with my diet. SEALs have fitness requirements.”
She swatted him. “Nobody can live without chocolate. Or Funyuns.”
His grinned faded slowly. “We’re gonna work this shit out, sweetheart. Whether it takes the next two weeks or the next two decades. I got me a good hold of wild and I’m not ever letting you go.”
“Good,” she declared. “Because you’ve always made for one hell of an adventure. And I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
THE END
Want to see more of Quinn and Jasper? Eager for Twist to have his own story?
Check out this excerpt from SEALed WITH A TWIST, now available from Kindle Worlds.
When Navy SEAL Grant “Twisted” Sisti returns to Barefoot Bay for Quinn and Jasper’s second wedding, he runs right into the arms of a mysterious woman from his rocky past.
Grant rolled his shoulders as the villa came in view. Each step away from the reception felt like a year off a dead man’s reprieve. He was a shit for bailing on his friend. He knew it. He’d make up some explanation for Jasper if he asked for it.
His mobile pinged with an incoming text alert. Speak of the devil.
sit rep.
Even being the best man Grant ever had the privilege to know or fight beside, Jasper McQueen could be a serious pain in his ass.
Grant exhaled audibly through his nose and typed out a reply.
fuck off.
Don’t talk dirty to me on my wedding day.
A wry smile twisted Grant’s mouth. you wish.
quinn wants to start the dancing. needs you for the congo line.
Congo line? Christ, more staid tradition from edgy Quinn. Next, she’d want him to start the chicken dance, after which lay only madness and binge drinking.
sorry man. got a better offer. He had zero offers, but that wasn’t for Jasper to know on his wedding night. Grant had tried burying his emo fallout in the easy pleasure of the SEAL bunnies, but too many of those hookups started to ring empty and he needed no help there.
Now, it felt like too much effort to bother trying.
His phone pinged with Jasper’s reply. you bailing on my wedding?
I wasn’t there for the first. you won’t miss me at the second. should know what you’re doing by now without me holding your dick. He reread the text, then backed it up to replace “dick” with “hand” and sent it before he could berate himself for wussing out.
There was a longer pause this time before Jasper’s reply arrived.
You need me, brother?
Grant’s throat got tight. He’d do it, Jasper would. He’d put a word in Quinn’s ear and slip out on his own wedding if Grant gave him the slightest signal. Jasper’s well of responsibility ran that deep, but more, he was that good of a man—and a friend. He had Grant’s back, no matter what, and for that very reason Grant couldn’t let him know how fucked up his head had become.
Nah. You’re off-duty from wingman duties tonight.
I ask to be relieved?
Yeah, when you transferred to SOCOM. That was a little too on point for comfort. Been doing without you six months now. Think I can manage another night.
Another long pause, then, don’t piss me off, twist.
Don’t ask stupid questions. and stop dicking with my mojo. dance with your wife.
He turned off the phone to avoid Jasper’s reply and unlocked the villa with a card and a faint regret for the lack of a hard key in his hand. Some asshole decided to shove inside the room behind him, be tough to mount a defense with this flimsy piece of plastic.
The default to combat readiness reassured Grant. Not that he expected to stumble upon violent crime here—recent Russian mob experiences notwithstanding. But with so many things getting past him—first that maid, then Quinn’s too-close-for-comfort téte-a-tête—it was good to see his edge might be wavering, but it could still cut a bitch.
Quinn’d been right; men like him and Jasper were always on, which is why Grant automatically scanned the villa’s interior like it was a tango’s lair. A light had been left on in the living area and another over the kitchen sink so that an ambient haze hovered over the main rooms. He noted the fruit set up on the island block before breaking off to clear the bedrooms and baths. Satisfied no one else had breached the perimeter, he re-booted his phone on route to the patio. Surely, by now Jasper had been distracted away from bugging Twist.
His phone immediately blew up with Jasper’s missed message.
Even through the flat, emotionless language of a text, Jasper’s words were resolute. You will brief me on what this shit is about.
Grant snorted. Like that was gonna happen. He pulled back the wide glass doors that led out to the patio and pool before typing out Whatever, man. kiss quinn for me.
The reply came quick. fuck off.
And now they were back on the easy ground where Grant was most comfortable. It was his job to dig into the emotions of his team, to make sure their heads were in a place where they could continue to complete their duty.
Hell, if he’d have any of them, even Jasper, do the same to him.
He let Jasper keep the last word and tucked his phone in his back pocket as his foot tangled in a pair of shorts left in a pile on the pool deck.
The hell?
His gaze tracked along to land on a matching golf shirt. He could just make out the Merry Maids logo in the glow of the pool lights.
Gatecrasher. He kicked the shorts up with his toe and snatched them out of the air.
“Fucking brilliant.” He was in no mood to deal with this shit. Feelin’ too much today already, watching Jasper and Quinn get their happy ending, dealing with Putter, working to keep that devil may care attitude at the forefront so his friends didn’t zero in on to the shit messin’ with his head.
Failing at that if his conversation with Quinn and Jasper’s text messages were anything to go by.<
br />
Was it too much to ask for a quiet night swim followed by more tequila and a morning filled with the headache of regrets and good booze? Instead, he had to deal with some reckless townie looking to take advantage of the abandoned villa.
He looked beyond the shirt and the muscle in his jaw clenched when he saw the bra and panties discarded at the edge of the deep end.
A girl townie.
Fantastic.
Time was, he’d view this as a chance to end his night with his favorite kind of happy ending. Now, he was only annoyed at having to rustle some kid out of the pool before he could get back to the tequila.
The sound of steady splashing caught his attention, He lifted his head in time to catch a glimpse of arms cutting through the water with smooth, sharp strokes.
Her body had length, most of it in the legs that kicked rhythmically in time with her arms, calf muscles cut in relief. Her head tilted for her to take a breath, eyes shut, the oval shape of her face perfectly bisected by the water like a Carnival half mask. Grant’s eyes tracked down to the equally round and, it had to be said, pert shape of her bare ass with tight cheeks he guessed would comfortably fit in each of his hands.
She reached the end of the pool and executed a perfect underwater flip that set her feet in precise location to launch into another lap. The floor lights in the pool illuminated the gleam of her body as she undulated for near half the pool’s length before breeching the surface with the sharp bob of a breast stroke.
Emphasis on breasts, plural, as both globes were revealed to Grant’s growing admiration. The SEAL in him admired her skill. She was an amateur but a damn good one who knew to move with the water rather than against it. Not many amateurs figured that trick out, instead thought swimming was a battle to tame the water to their form. Most never learned the truth.
There was no taming the water. Not in any form.
The man in him was far more intrigued by her other intriguing assets. Grant felt a ripple of interest he hadn’t felt in months. He crossed his arms and settled in at rest to enjoy the show.
She was halfway through the return lap when she finally tagged him. Immediately, she floundered, getting a good swallow of pool water as she did, which led to an epic bout of choking while she got her feet under her.
Fixed on him, her eyes bugged out wide, but the pool light now put her face in shadow, hiding their color. Her once fluid limbs locked tight on the water’s surface, with an air of shocked embarrassment that told him she wasn’t accustomed to being naked before strangers.
He liked all that said to him.
‘Cept he wasn’t in the mood to tangle with a moonlit mermaid. “You’ve got some nerve, sweetheart.”
“Holy cats,” she managed between coughs. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
“Sorry to disappoint, but pretty sure I paid for the privilege.” His gaze swept over her, clinical and without any admiration. “Don’t remember checking off the ‘naked water nymph’ perk on the reservation.”
“It’s –it’s only—” A final harsh gurgle cleared her throat. “It’s only offered to Gold Star members.”
Her cheek made him fight a grin, which only made him more aggravated. “Hafta remember to thank management for the upgrade when I report you.”
That took care of her cheek. “You can’t do that,” she whispered.
“Think you’re wrong there, nymph.”
Something odd flashed through the shocked embarrassment in her face. Odd and…familiar.
His vision narrowed to pinpoint on her features. Her wet hair left her face in relief and that whisper of warning teased the back of his neck again. The one that’d saved his life countless times in the field. The one that told him he’d missed something important.
He felt it, but didn’t get it, so he got pissed. “Tell me your name”
She started at his bark. “N-no.”
Her refusal surprised him. He wasn’t used to being disobeyed, and the only thing that kept his temper in check now was that she looked as surprised by it as him.
Her eyes tracked past him to where she’d left her clothes. It was the new angle of her head that finally clicked an image in his head.
“You’re the maid who snuck behind me while I was on the phone.”
Her shoulders rolled back, chin tilting with an arrogance he’d expect from his Yankee, blue-blooded mother, not a housemaid at a Florida beach resort. “I hardly 'snuck'." Now if you please, kindly turn your back so I can get out and leave you to your evening,” she ordered, all traces of embarrassed guilt gone.
Grant found himself fighting a grin. “You’re not exactly in the position to make demands, lovely.”
She turned that rigid shoulder to him, exposing plump side boob and a very nice back whose spine was ramrod straight. She swished her way to the edge of the pool where she’d left her clothes—which were now at his feet.
Despite her demand to turn his back, her nudity seemed not to bother her at all. Once at the side of the pool, she looked up, fingers curling around the rim, and, fuck him, his dick finally dialed in to take acute notice, rousing despite her breasts being out-of-sight crushed to the wall
Her legs kicked idly in the water, muddying his view, but he’d seen enough to know she’d be worth the time and effort—if he was in the mood to make either. Well, parts of him were in the mood, but it’d been a long time since he’d been led around by his dick. One tempting water nymph wasn’t going to make him revert.
“You going to stand there staring all night or are you going to report me?”
More cheek. He really didn’t want to like this woman.
“Probably. If you were a little nicer, maybe you could talk me out of it.”
He waited for the sharp reply, eager to hear what snooty rejoinder she’d aim his way. Any other woman would’ve cut and run by now, especially when he was deliberately being this much of an outright asshole. But something about this woman made him brace.
Good plan, too, since his water nymph contemplated him from below and then shocked the shit outta him by flattening her hands on the cement edge and hoisting herself out of the pool. A whoosh of water and there she stood, naked and without a hint of shame.
Water dripped down her chest and over her high, pert breasts with nipples raised to points by the cooler air. Down the concave slope of her belly and over the natural flare of her hips and the vee of her exposed sex to pool around her feet on the asphalt. She was almost a foot shorter than him, but her height was mostly in her long thighs and curved calves.
He wanted his hands on those hips, his mouth on those breasts, and those lithe legs wrapped tight and high on his back as he sank inside her. He felt the pull of her expectation and somehow wrenched his eyes from the feast to the no less bounty of her face. When she caught his gaze with what had to be the bluest eyes he’d ever seen, the perfect bow of her mouth curved into a smug, Cheshire smile.
“How much nicer do you want me to be?”
About Kiersten Hallie Krum
Kiersten Hallie Krum is the author of the prestigious RONE award finalist, WILD ON THE ROCKS, and its follow-up, SEALed WTH A TWIST. She is also a past winner of the Emily Award for unpublished novelists. Kiersten graduated from Gordon College where she majored in both history and English, including a year's study at Oxford University, which means she's knows a little bit about a lot of things concerning people long dead. She also completed a minor in theater for which she performed a one-woman show. Kiersten graduated from New York University with a Master of Publishing.
A member of the Romance Writers of America, the New Jersey Romance Writers, and the Long Island Romance Writers, Kiersten has been working in book publishing for more than twenty years in marketing and promotion. At other times in her career, she's worked back stage for a regional theater, managed advertorials for a commerce newspaper in the World Trade Center, and served as senior editor for a pharmaceutical advertising agency.
Writer, singer, editor, traveler,
tequila drinker, and cat herder, Kiersten avoids pen names since keeping her multiple personalities straight is hard enough work. Born and bred in New Jersey (and accent free), Kiersten sings as easily, and as frequently, as she breathes, drives fast with the windows down and the music up, likes to randomly switch accents for kicks and giggles, and would be happy to spend all her money traveling for the rest of her life.
Check out the links below to see where you can find Kiersten regularly oversharing on social media and her website.
Website: http://www.kierstenkrum.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/kierstenkrum
Twitter: https://twitter.com/kierstenkrum
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kierstenkrum
Dedication
For The Mother
Because the first one should always be for your mother.
(But do us both a favor and don’t tell me when you’ve read it.)
Acknowledgements
Huge amounts of thanks to the following people who helped me bring WILD ON THE ROCKS to life:
—Roxanne St. Claire without whom there’d be no WILD ON THE ROCKS. Thank you for your friendship, your wisdom, your humor (GABE!), and your unending faith. I’m so grateful to you for inviting me to be a part of this wonderful world
—My Big Sis, Nanci-Jean Krum, without whom I never would have met Quinn and Jasper. Thanks for all the encouragement and the backup, Nanje
—My mother, Marie P. Krum, for the times you’ve eaten pretzels for breakfast because I got tied up in writing, for the nights you’ve eaten pretzels for dinner because I came home late from the day job and went right to the laptop (or to sleep), for the weeknights and weekends spent locked in the apartment while I was holed up in my room (or at Starbucks) on the laptop. For all that and much, much more
Barefoot Bay: Wild on the Rocks (Kindle Worlds) Page 23