'Til the End of Time: A Loveswept Contemporary Romance

by Iris Johansen

  “It’s the excuse he’s using,” Elli said with a laugh.

  “I think it’s all a ruse, he just likes making babies,” Fallon giggled as Elli’s cheeks warmed with color. Shea let out a booming laugh before saying, “You got that right!”

  They shared a laugh before Fallon took a sip of her wine. She loved hanging with Elli and Shea, they were so cute and perfect together. Even if their love made her want to puke, she still loved them.

  “Fallon is going to sophisticate hockey,” Elli said with a grin for Shea. He laughed as he looked back over at Fallon.

  “Are you now?”

  “Yes, I am. I can do it. I’m awesome.”

  Elli giggled as Shea smiled, then Elli said, “You sure are babe! Oh Shea, there’s Ricky Owen. Hey, excuse us Fallon, I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Sure, great seeing y’all,” Fallon said. She watched as they walked away, hand in hand, with big smiles on their faces. They were so stinkin’ happy, it was sickening. But then she thought of what they had to do to get to where they were, and she couldn’t help but be happy for them.

  What could she say? She was a sucker for love.

  Fallon stood for a little while longer before starting to work the room. She grabbed a bottle of the Rocky Top’s Big Orange Cabernet Sauvignon and started towards the crowd.

  Fallon always walked with confidence she had to or no one would buy from her. She knew what she had with her products and knew that with only one taste anyone would fall in love with Rocky Top’s wine. It was that good.

  It had been in the family for over 80 years. Fallon grew up with dirty feet and grape-stained clothes. She loved it, she lived it, and now that Fallon ran the PR department, it was finally getting to the level it needed to be. Rocky Top should to be at the top and if Fallon had anything to do with it, it would be.

  After handing out business cards and vouchers for free bottles, Fallon spotted Elli standing with some older guy who had an empty glass. Since he looked like he had money, Fallon made her way towards him. She always liked to schmooze the big money guys. If Fallon got lucky, they usually hired Rocky Top to supply the wine for their company parties.

  “He has a bad rep. Money, booze, females, I don’t know,” the older guy said when Fallon reached the group. It was only Elli, Shea and the older guy. Elli didn’t seem very happy.

  “He’s clean, I feel good about him,” Elli said sternly. The older guy shook his head.

  “I don’t know Mrs. Adler. Brooks is a fighter.”

  Fallon blinked a few times, totally stunned. It had been a long time since she had heard that name.

  “Yeah, but he’s second in the league for goals.”

  “And first for penalty minutes. He’s a got a huge chip on his shoulder.”

  “I’ll knock the damn chip off it for him if I need to, or hell maybe we’ll get Fallon to sophisticate him,” Elli said with a grin when she noticed that Fallon was just standing there staring at them. “Ricky Owen, Fallon Parker with Rocky Top Wine. She is one of our biggest sponsors.”

  “Who?” Fallon asked totally ignoring Ricky’s hand, and hoping like hell that there was another Brooks in the NHL who fought a lot.

  Because she only knew one …

  “You probably don’t know him, Lucas Brooks? He was just traded in from the Sharks.”

  Fallon wasn’t sure how the bottle of wine slipped from her hands, but the next thing she knew it was in pieces around her beautiful boots. Cabernet Sauvignon was everywhere, and Fallon’s face was beet red as she tried to catch her breath. Everyone looked down in shock before looking back up at Fallon’s stunned face.

  Shea starting laughing as everyone still looked at Fallon in shock, then he said, “Or maybe she does.”

  Oh, Fallon knew Lucas Brooks alright.

  He was coming to Nashville?

  Great, that was just fucking great.

  Read on for an excerpt from Elisabeth Barrett’s

  Long Simmering Spring

  CHAPTER 1

  The telltale sound of the metal-on-metal rigging clanging above deck was a clear indication that Cole Grayson wasn’t inside a stifling-hot canvas tent in Kunar Province. The gentle pitch and roll under his back and the aromas of salt and sea could mean only one thing: he was on his brother’s houseboat in Star Harbor, thousands of miles from Afghanistan. His eyeballs were sticking to his lids, but for once, waking up early didn’t bother him.

  He’d finally slept through the night. It had taken him only seven years, three months, and nineteen days.

  Not that he was counting.

  He swung his legs out from his berth and stood carefully, knowing his head would graze the ceiling of the small cabin. Houseboats simply weren’t designed for men of his size. Given that Val nearly matched him in height, he had no idea how his older brother had made do on the vessel for so long.

  Still, he wasn’t complaining. The eight months Val had let him stay on board had been a huge chunk of rent-free time. He’d given Val some money for the upkeep of the boat and for docking fees, but it wasn’t nearly as much as if he’d been paying for an apartment. As always, his brother had been more than generous.

  Cole grabbed his jeans from where they were neatly folded on a nearby shelf and pulled them on over his boxers, not bothering with a shirt or shoes. Still a bit wobbly, he used a hand on the ceiling as a guide to steady himself and slowly walked to the short ladder that led up to the deck.

  Pushing open the cabin’s door, he emerged topside. There was a dim glow on the horizon. When the sun rose, it would cast a glorious amber light over the inner harbor, creeping over the piers and moving up the sides of the buildings in town. The fishing boats, wet with dew and seawater, rocked gently in the breeze, creaking and straining against their moorings. Seabirds welcomed the pre-dawn morning, their shrill cries piercing the crisp spring air.

  Bracing himself against the morning chill, Cole joined his brother, who was leaning against the side of the cabin and drinking a cup of coffee from a stainless-steel mug. Illuminated by a string of Christmas lights they hadn’t bothered to take down, Val gave him a nod. As he imitated the gesture, Cole bit back a smile.

  There was no mistaking that they were brothers, from their clear blue eyes to their speech patterns, and most definitely to their mannerisms.

  “Sleep well?”

  Cole nodded. “Yeah.” Clearly, the time he’d spent with the shrink in Boston to help manage his post-traumatic stress disorder had paid off. But although both the Boston P.D. and the Star Harbor Sheriff’s Department had cleared him for active duty, he knew he’d always be living with it. And the more under control he could get it, the happier he—and everyone around him—would be.

  “Didn’t hear any yelling last night.”

  Cole merely grunted. Typically nothing got past that brother of his, and it was impossible to hide anything from Val on this tiny boat.

  “Sounds like you’re doing better. Still, I don’t know why you quit seeing that psychologist when you moved here. I’d keep at it if I were you,” Val said, staring out to the horizon. Cole knew that all three of his brothers had noticed the change in him since he’d left the army, but only Val had the balls to say something to his face.

  “I know,” Cole said, tightly. “It’s a time issue, more than anything.” Val’s point was well taken. Cole’s nightmares had plagued him since he’d received his honorable discharge, and his sharp bursts of temper were something he still had to struggle mightily to keep under control. Coming back to Star Harbor to head up the Sheriff’s Department was a last-ditch effort to integrate back into civilian life. It had helped a lot, but things could always be better. “I’ll think about it.”

  “That’s all I’m asking.” Val paused for a few moments, as if weighing what to say next. “You know I like your company, but I get that you might be itching to move on.”

  “I appreciate you letting me stay here. Really.” Cole rubbed a hand over his eyes. Val had known what he was getting
himself into. Me, with all my baggage. “I told you it would take a while to figure out where I want to live.”

  “I know. But seriously, I’m glad you’re here. Free labor.”

  “You joke, but the least I can do is help out on the boat. I’ve been crashing here way too long. Still, I have to admit, I’m glad to be back. Seems like we Graysons can’t go for too long without coming home to Star Harbor,” Cole said, throwing their younger brothers, twins Theodore and Sebastian, into the mix.

  “You can’t keep away, can you?” Val murmured. “For me, it’s the memories. Remember that warm summer night when Dad took us out on his boat to see the swarm of glowing jellyfish? He knew just where to find them. I couldn’t believe how bright the water looked. And I’ll never forget the pirate stories he told us later that night. He was amazing, wasn’t he?”

  “I miss Dad,” Cole said flatly. “And Mom, too.” Being back in Star Harbor meant that memories of his father, who’d been killed twenty years ago on his boat in a hurricane, and his mother, who’d died twelve years ago of a stroke, were always in the forefront of Cole’s mind. In some ways, living in town again was both cathartic and depressing. After a childhood of hell-raising he was glad to finally be able to give something back to the community, but things weren’t as easy as he’d hoped. The war had given his life a skewed focus, though slowly, things had been improving. Slowly being the key word. He’d gotten good at blocking the worst of what he’d seen from his mind. But every now and then, a sight, a sound, or even a smell would trigger his memory and something he wished to God he could forget would be right there, happening all over again.

  Before he got too far down that road, Val cut in. “You’re off duty now, right?”

  “Until tomorrow morning.”

  “So what are you planning to do today?

  “Thought I’d help out with some repairs on the boat. Anything you want taken care of?”

  Val grinned. “Oh yeah, I have some stuff for you to do.”

  “Whatever it is, I’ll make sure I finish it up at a decent hour. Don’t forget that we’re meeting Theo at the Rusty Nail tonight.” Theo was a bestselling novelist who had also returned to Star Harbor. He seldom spent an evening apart from his fiancée, Avery Newbridge, a compassionate social worker with fiery red hair. But Avery was currently in Boston at some conference, and Theo was stuck with them for company for the next few nights.”

  “Mmm,” Val said. “She’s a good match for him, though I have to admit I thought you were going to be the next Grayson man down.”

  “I don’t give it up that easy.” Not anymore.

  “That’s not what Zee told me,” Val said, giving him an even look.

  “Zee doesn’t talk,” Cole said, calling his brother’s bluff about his old partner from the Boston precinct.

  “I know how to read between the lines.”

  Cole was happy that Val and his team of federal agents had been assigned to interface with the Sheriff’s Department to investigate the drug issue plaguing Star Harbor. That meant his insightful older brother was around a lot. Yet he deliberately kept quiet about the relationships he’d had since returning from deployment. After the first few had gone south, he’d all but given up trying. Olivia had been a fluke—and the final straw. Things had been all right for a while, but once she’d asked him to move in with her, the relationship had gone downhill, fast.

  Cole cleared his throat. “It’ll feel fine to do some real work again,” he said.

  “Beats doing paperwork behind a desk.”

  “I’m doing more than that,” Cole snorted, relieved that Val had moved on from talking about his love life.

  “Mmm,” Val said. “Coffee’s fresh in the galley. Go grab some and then we’ll discuss what you can do for me today.”

  Cole nodded. “I’ll be back in a few.” He turned and ducked back into the cabin. It would feel good to flex his muscles. He hadn’t done much physical labor since returning to town late last summer. Today, he’d skip his usual morning run and his weight-lifting session at the gym and put in a hard day of work on the boat. Life on the water was freeing, but it sure wasn’t easy, and Val could use all the help he could get.

  Besides, it was the perfect way to get any lingering demons out of his head.

  CHAPTER 2

  “Okay, Billy, I’m almost finished. You’ve been a very brave boy,” Julie Kensington murmured as she finished making the last tiny stitch in Billy’s leg. The neat pattern ran two inches down the side of his right calf. The wound was red and puffy, but it would heal well. Expertly, she knotted the thread and began to put her instruments away. “All done,” she said, giving a nod to Billy’s parents, Pru and Harry Miller. “You can look now.”

  The six-year-old waited a few seconds and then turned his tear-streaked face away from the shelter of his mother’s arms. After examining the stitches for a few moments, Billy spoke. “It looks like Frankenstein’s leg. It’s kinda cool.” He gave a little sniffle and wiped his nose on his mother’s expensive blouse. Pru didn’t look at all as if she minded.

  “I’m going to bandage it up now, okay?” Julie took some gauze and arranged it over the wound, taping it down on unharmed tissue. “Billy had a tetanus shot recently, right?” she asked Pru, continuing to tidy up her work area. Her nurse, Lisa, would kill her if she left everything a shambles.

  “Yes. He had his booster last year,” the petite woman confirmed, her brown bob swaying as she tipped her head up to her husband. “Right, Harry?”

  Harry, a tall, square-jawed man, cleared his throat. “Yes,” he said, picking the little boy up in his arms. As soon as Billy was situated with his hurt leg carefully cradled, he placed his head in the crook between his father’s neck and shoulder and closed his eyes.

  Julie smiled at the tender moment but got back to business right away. “One more thing,” she said. “I didn’t get a chance to see if the jungle gym was rusted. Do you remember?”

  “I don’t think so,” Harry said. Pru just shrugged.

  “Hmm. Why don’t I go by to take a look this evening? With these kinds of injuries, sometimes we do an extra booster, just in case, but it’ll depend on what I find.”

  “Should we get one now to be safe?” Pru asked, standing.

  “It’s not necessary. Billy’s been through enough today, and if he needs a booster, he’ll be fine as long as he gets one within forty-eight hours. Why don’t you give me the name of your Boston pediatrician so I can call tomorrow morning for a brief chat?” The Millers owned houses in both Star Harbor and Boston. That meant they had two sets of everything, including doctors.

  “Ruth Walsham,” Pru said, scribbling on the back of a business card. “Here’s her number. We’d intended to head back to Boston tonight because Billy has school tomorrow, but if you think we need to stay—”

  “Go. I’ll figure everything out and I’ll give you a call early tomorrow.”

  “Thank you,” Pru said, gratitude written all over her face. “We’ll go see Dr. Walsham if we have to.”

  “I’ll call you before nine.” Julie shook her head. “I just can’t believe the jungle gym broke like that.”

  “We were just getting in some play time before hitting the road. We didn’t think something like this was going to happen.” Pru reached up to the boy and began to stroke his hair. “Okay, honey, we’re going home. Would you like that?” Eyes still closed, Billy nodded, obviously overwhelmed by all the action.

  “Take care,” Julie said as she saw the Millers out the front door of her office. She waited until they’d rounded the corner and then gently shut the door. She’d trained hard for emergencies like these, and though it was unfortunate that Billy had gotten hurt, she was glad to have a chance to demonstrate her expertise. That New England work ethic she’d inherited from her parents clearly ran deep.

  Julie finished tidying up and then went to wash her hands with antiseptic soap one last time. Her long, straight hair was caught up in a high ponytail, but during
all the excitement, wayward wisps had escaped and now framed her face. With still-damp hands, she smoothed back the stray strands. Then she dried her hands and gathered up her keys.

  She stepped out into the cool early-evening air and locked the front door to her office and skimmed her hand over the Historical Landmark Registry plaque to the right of the door frame, just over the sign that said “Julia Kensington, MD.” She’d worked so hard to get here—incurring tens of thousands of dollars of debt to pay her way through school, pulling exhausting all-nighters to make sure she knew her coursework, and of course, giving up any semblance of a social life. She’d poured her soul into her education, and she’d finally done what she’d set out to do: make her parents proud by becoming a respected doctor.

  Of course, they’d never gotten to see her success. She’d been in her second year of medical school when they’d been killed, struck down in the prime of their lives by a drunk driver. She’d done her grieving eight years ago when they’d died, and then had thrown herself back into her studies. It was what they would have wanted. She missed them terribly, but knowing she was on her own had made her work that much harder.

  Julie turned around to face Front Street. The shops closed early since it was a Sunday night and the few seasonal tourists were gone. With about an hour to go until sunset, the faux gas lamps lining the historic downtown area were not yet lit. Usually her street was bustling with people, but for now she had the luxury of solitude.

  Briskly, Julie walked through town. Whom could she call to get the jungle gym repaired? The town would take weeks, unless she pestered Royce Hogan to get the Parks and Rec Department to do a rush job. Maybe Luke Bedwin at the hardware store could come out to smooth off the rough edges so no one else would get hurt while she worked her magic on the mayor.

  A light wind blew, raising goose bumps on her bare arms. Damn, she was freezing! When she’d found Billy, she’d been out running. Anticipating a brisk loop around the town and back to her house, she hadn’t dressed for the weather. Her leggings, T-shirt, and running shoes weren’t warm enough this late in the afternoon. To warm up quickly, she broke into a trot.