by Tracy March
Cyn stayed right behind him, taking each step carefully. Not too far in, Trent stopped at the base of a huge hardwood tree, turned to her, and pointed up. Cyn’s gaze followed a ladder built high up into the tree. Hundreds of tiny lights glimmered above it.
Cyn’s mouth went wide. “What’s this?”
“My tree house,” Trent said, his eyes bright like a little boy’s.
“We’re going up there?”
“Do you want to?”
Cyn nodded quickly.
“You first.” Trent pointed the flashlight at the rungs and Cyn started climbing. “It’s been reinforced since I was a kid, so nothing’s rickety.”
Cyn’s pulse picked up pace as she stepped higher and higher, eager to see what waited at the top. Being with Trent was such an adventure, and she knew it always would be.
“You okay?” he asked, a few rungs below her.
“Yep.” Soon Cyn popped up into an epic tree house, and hurried off the ladder so Trent could join her. A lantern cast a dim glow inside—a small room, mostly windows without glass. Trent led her through an opening to a balcony that jutted out above the tree branches with a clear view to the sky. Strings of tiny white lights hung from the railings, casting hazy light on a double-size mattress strewn with striped pillows and blankets that took up most of the outside space.
“You’ve had this place since you were a kid? This is crazy amazing.”
“Spoiled rotten, right?” He combed his hand through her hair, pinching a lock between his fingers and tugging it. “Wait until you see this…” Trent pulled her over and they fell together onto the soft mattress, laughing. He climbed over to the corner, flipped a switch on the tree house wall, and the lights went out.
Cyn’s eyes adjusted as he tucked a pillow under her head, lay down beside her, and pointed at the sky. She turned on her back and looked up.
“Oh my God, the stars.” Chills prickled through her. “It’s like we can reach them.”
Trent pulled her close, and she nestled next to him, gazing into his eyes. “Calls for a wish, don’t you think?”
“I should say it out loud.”
“Worked for me last time,” he teased.
She held her breath for a moment. “I wish I could’ve flown that helicopter.”
Trent gave her a slow, sexy grin. “Move to the islands with me and you can learn how.” He kissed her with growing passion as a breeze rustled through the leaves in the treetops.
“This is…not my life,” Cyn said breathlessly.
“This is your life,” Trent whispered. “Now, and for as long as you want it.”
Epilogue
“Here’s to two consecutive World Series wins.” Cole raised his longneck beer and shook his head, grinning as if he couldn’t believe it himself.
Cyn lifted her bottle along with Trent, Paige, Lane, and Liza. The six of them sat in cushy Adirondack chairs surrounding a fire and facing the lake. Flames danced between the logs, taking the chill off the early November evening.
They had Cole to thank for this reunion on his and Liza’s sprawling Virginia farm. He’d offered World Series tickets to all of them, so Cyn and Trent had made special plans to come home. Cyn’s life with Trent had been surreal since the garden party six months ago. They’d helped her parents unpack all of their belongings and reestablish their home, her mom and dad warming to Trent even beyond their gratitude. His unexpected, generous gesture had caused them to see the Hawthornes in a new light. Despite the unorthodox arrangement, they’d given Cyn and Trent only a moderate amount of grief when Cyn had moved to the islands with him. They split their time among the Bahamas, Turks and Caicos, Jamaica, and Saint Lucia. Cyn spent her days working as an ambassador in the communities where resort employees lived, finding the right fit for donations and beneficial programs—and learning to fly a helicopter. She spent her nights with Trent, plenty of rose petals strewn on their beds.
“It’s incredible that you guys pulled off a monumental win like that two years in a row,” Trent said to Cole.
Cole reached over and gently rubbed Liza’s round belly. “This little National brought us good luck.”
Liza covered his hand with hers and cleared her throat. “Little Oriole,” she teased.
“That kid is going to have one heck of an identity crisis.” Paige smirked playfully. “Aunt Paige will have to intervene and make sure the poor guy has some clothes that aren’t red and blue or, even worse, orange and black.”
“Even worse?” Liza frowned. “Aw, you can’t say that.”
Cyn waved her hand dismissively. “He’ll be so cute it won’t matter what he wears.” She pulled the quilt from the back of her chair, spread one side across her lap and shared the other with Paige, who sat next to her. Cyn’s diamond engagement ring caught the light of the flames and sparkled brightly. Like stars. She was still getting used to the weight of it on her finger, reminding her it was real when everything felt like a fantasy.
“You’re gonna blind us with that ring.” Lane drew his head back and squinted. “That’s one heck of a piece of hardware, Trent. You’re putting the pressure on me to deliver.”
Paige raised her eyebrows. No doubt she and Lane would get engaged soon enough. They’d just bought a big old Craftsman-style house in Maple Creek and started renovating it. She shook her head, a mock scowl on her face. “Always a bridesmaid.”
“But I won’t make you wear an orange dress.” Cyn nudged her elbow.
“Thank God Liza didn’t make me, either, after I threatened to send her to fashion rehab.”
“I don’t think that’s exactly how it went.” Cole poked the fire with a stick and embers sparked up into the air. “My girl had you going, is what I recall.”
Liza grinned at Cole. “We’re looking forward to coming to Jamaica for the wedding,” she said to Cyn and Trent. “And my parents can’t wait to keep the little one.”
Cyn and Trent had decided to get married in Jamaica, where their love story had really begun. It was either there, or in the center of the boxwood maze, and Jamaica was definitely more fun.
“We’re really excited ourselves.” Trent reached over and squeezed Cyn’s shoulder. Cyn imagined their big day with her dad officiating the ceremony. “You guys start practicing for the cliff diving,” Trent said.
“I’m in,” Lane said, and Paige gave him a curious look. “What? You’re in, too. If you can swim in smelly sulfur springs, you can jump off a cliff into the clear blue sea.”
“Those things are so not related,” Paige said.
Cole stepped over to several bales of hay, stacked to function as a table. They were covered with a red-and-white checkered cloth, an array of food and fixings on top. He came back with a fistful of skewers and an open pack of puffy marshmallows.
“Y’all ready to do some roastin’?” He passed out the skewers to everyone but Liza.
“Hey, where’s mine?” she asked.
He smoothed his palm over her hair. “You’ve got a questionable track record cooking food over fire, darlin’. How about I roast yours for you?”
“Please.” She gave him a pleading look, and Cyn bet he couldn’t resist it. “I love roasting marshmallows.”
Cole bunched his lips as if he had to think about it. “All right.” He kissed her on the cheek, handed her a skewer, and winked. “As long as it’s not a wiener.”
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Acknowledgments
It’s been such an adventure writing the Suddenly Smitten series—from the ballpark, to the beaches, to the boxwood maze. I enjoyed every second I spent in the stories, and I’m grateful to the readers who’ve joined me on this magical
journey.
My sincere gratitude goes to Stacy Abrams, Lydia Sharp, and Alycia Tornetta for their editorial expertise and guidance. Their input and ideas always make my books better!
Thanks to my sweet friend Nancy Naigle for keeping me focused and nearly sane in this whirlwind writer’s life, and to my eighty-year-old mom who believes in me so much—and tells anyone who will listen! As always, I’m crazy-grateful to my amazing husband who inspires all the love and laughter in the pages, and brings them to life for me every day.
About the Author
Award-winning author Tracy March writes romantic thrillers influenced by her interest in science and politics. She also writes lighthearted romances inspired by her real-life happily ever after.
Always up for travel and adventure, Tracy has flown in a stunt plane, snowmobiled on the Continental Divide, ziplined in the Swiss Alps, and been chased by a bull in the mountains of St. Lucia. She loves Nationals baseball, Saturday date nights, and Dairy Queen Blizzards—and rarely goes a day without Diet Coke and Cheez-Its.
Tracy lives in Yorktown, Virginia, with her superhero husband who works for NASA. They recently spent two years living in Washington, D.C., and enjoy visiting often—especially when the Nats are in town.
Visit Tracy online at www.TracyMarch.com
Also by Tracy March
The Suddenly Smitten Series
The Practice Proposal
Tempted in the Tropics
Girl Three
A Shot of Red
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