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Authors: Crystal Walton

BOOK: Arms of Promise
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The next dancer’s music cued up, and Anna pulled Evan farther offstage. “She made me promise to pursue my dreams, but she didn’t just mean dance. She meant you.” Anna looked behind him toward Dad and Reese. “She meant family. The people who anchor me. Because the truth is, I’d lose myself if I didn’t have you in my life.”

Evan held her gaze, deep breaths moving in and out with the same intensity as hers.

She rested a hand to his chest. The heart that’d always held hers thundered under her palm. “I’m not saying I have all the answers. I don’t know what life will look like with you in Georgia or overseas while I’m here. And I know there’ll always be another Michelli, another case. The dangers don’t stop. But I’m in love with you, Evan O’Riley. And I want to risk sharing that love with you every day.”

When Anna finally took a breath, Evan hung his head for so long, her muscles tensed.

She started to lower her hand, but he covered it with his and brought her closer.

He raised his fingers to her cheek. “There’d be no greater honor than devoting my life to loving you. To stand by you no matter what you pursue.” He swallowed. “But I won’t ever stop protecting you, either.”

Anna met the same fierce hazel eyes that’d looked after her since they were five. His protection wasn’t a cage. Or an obligation. It was love. The kind she finally understood.

She leaned in. “And I’ll never stop letting you.”

His gaze gravitated to her mouth, already kissing her before their lips ever touched. And in the arms of a promise that’d kept them together all this time, she laid down her fear of the future to be with the one who shared her past.

Epilogue

Moments

One Year Later

 

Fresh pine, baked gingerbread, and mint hot chocolate filled Evan and Anna’s living room to the brim with the fragrance of Christmas and new traditions.

Evan admired the sight of his friends and family surrounded by the simple elegance Anna brought with her wherever she went.

Seated beside Mark on the love seat, Reese bounced their son on her lap, looking even more exhausted now than when she was pregnant. “We could’ve had Christmas at Dad’s, you know?”

Anna looked up from the tree skirt, where she and Megan were wiggling a new cat toy in front of an unimpressed Bailey. “I know.” She rose, strolled over to Evan’s side of the couch, and lounged an arm across his back. “But we wanted to host on our first Christmas as a married couple.”

Married. Evan rolled around the word. Their new reality still hadn’t fully set in.

Mr. Madison returned a picture of Anna and her mom to the fireplace mantel and leaned an elbow over the bricks. “Well, you know Ms. Riza’s expecting everyone over for a big dinner tomorrow night.”

Anna chuckled. “Of course she is. The woman wouldn’t know what to do if she didn’t have people to entertain.”

“Says the girl who’s been running around all night, playing host.” Evan pulled her into his lap and handed her a present. “Your turn to open.”

She dropped the tissue paper from the bag onto the floor and withdrew a double feature DVD of
The Breakfast Club
and
Pretty In Pink
. “You didn’t.”

“I did.” He reached in for the bonus treat. “And don’t worry. I bought the popcorn from Garrett’s three days ago, so it’ll be perfect.”

She twisted toward him with a goofy grin on her face and pressed her lips to his. “You’re the best.”

“Stale popcorn?” Reese scrunched her nose. “You guys are so weird.”

“I think they’re adorable.” Evan’s mom scooped up baby Jonathan from Reese and cuddled him. “And they’re going to give me cute little grandbabies just like you. Isn’t that right?” she said in a high-pitched baby voice.

Anna’s neck flushed. “Um, not for at least a few more years. I doubt Hubbard Street would be too keen on choreographing a routine around a prego lead dancer.”

“What’s prego?” Megan peeked out from behind the tree while Bailey frantically clawed to get away from her.

The room lit up in laughter.

“Never mind, kiddo.” Biting back a smile, Heather ruffled her hair.

Beside them, Murphy flaunted a mischievous grin at Evan and raised his glass toward Anna. “I think we should toast to Hubbard Street for enabling you to float this starving artist.”

“Real funny, tough guy.” Evan rolled his eyes.

Anna leaned backward to hook an arm around Evan. “Sorry, but if you want to talk about the success in this family, talk to the guy who’s sold enough prints to buy out the entire first floor of the gallery.”

Heat climbed Evan’s neck and spread to his ears.

With an impressed look, Murphy raised his glass higher. “Not too shabby, bro. You know, I could pose as a model, if you’re looking.”

Heather gave him a shove. “The only person who’d ever hang a print with your face on it in their house would be you.”

“Ohh . . . girl’s got jokes. Okay, I see how it is.”

Ignoring their banter, Evan placed another gift in Anna’s lap, eager to take the limelight off himself. “One more,” he whispered.

She peeked inside the bag, squeezed it shut, and spun toward him. “Electric slippers?”

“To warm those ice picks you poke me with every night.” His lips pulled to the left, barely suppressing a laugh.

Her eyes tightened as she slid her fingers up his shirt. “You really want to start this?”

He scrambled her hands away from his now-goose-bump-covered skin and held her at the waist. “We just need to get you electric gloves, and we’ll be all set.”

She brandished that sassy grin of hers and walked her cold fingertips up to the back of his neck. “I’m pretty sure I already have a lifetime hand warmer right here.”

Evan held her hungry gaze.

“Gag.” Reese rose from the love seat. “I think that’s our cue to leave the lovebirds’ new nest.”

Mark helped her with her coat while Mr. Madison did the same for Mom. Heather and Megan joined them in the entryway, followed up by Murphy.

He clasped hands with Evan. “There you go, showing me up in the romance department again.” Murphy cut a glance toward Heather. “Now I’m gonna have to go work the Bruce Wayne persona I picked up from you.”

A year later, and he still hadn’t let that one go. Evan fake-punched him through the doorway.

After saying all their good-byes, he and Anna crashed on the couch in the glow of the Christmas tree lights. Bailey came out of hiding and curled up at the opposite end of the cushions.

“Hot chocolate?” Anna asked.

“Later.” Evan pulled her to him and nuzzled her neck. The same flush from earlier inched up her skin, but this time his lips got to follow it. She sighed against him, pressing in. Her natural fragrance overrode all the competing ones until the entire room faded to just her. He might not be a Ranger anymore, but she’d kept his laser focus skills sharper than ever.

She leaned back with the look on her face that never failed to undo him. “Can we make a new promise?”

“Name it.”

Her compassionate, headstrong green eyes steadied his. “Let’s promise to live moment by moment, one at a time. Savoring each one to the fullest.”

Evan’s fingertips skimmed her soft cheek and slipped into her hair. With his thumb brushing her ear, he brought his lips to hers and sealed a promise he’d live every day of his life. Starting right now.

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A Word From The Author

Thanks so much for reading
Arms of Promise
.
Click here
for a special note about this book. The only thing that’d make it even more fun is getting to hear from you. Email me anytime.

 

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About The Author

 

Crystal received her bachelor of arts from Messiah College in PA, married her exact opposite in upstate NY, and earned her master of arts from Regent University in VA, where she currently resides with her husband, David. Crystal writes contemporary clean romance fueled by Starbucks’ venti green teas. She’d love to connect with you at
http://crystal-walton.com
.

Acknowledgements

Dave, after fourteen years, your arms of promise continue to anchor me during the “for better or worse” seasons along this lifetime journey. Thanks for standing by my side.

Erynn—the editor with the world’s most expansive vocabulary—thanks for sowing your humor and tough love into another manuscript, for letting me ramble endlessly until I finally found that little thing called clarity, and for refraining from coming to my house to clobber me when I kept interrupting Anna and Evan’s first kiss. It’s a privilege to work with such a gifted editor and supportive friend.

Melanie, thank you for walking with me through the countless pull-my-hair-out moments, the what-in-the-world-am-I-doing doubts, and the squeal-I’m-so-excited hopes during every stage of this book. Even more than an encouraging critique partner, you are a treasured friend.

Victorine, thanks, once again, for all your help creating a cover to fit the characters and story beautifully, and for giving me hard critiques when I need them.

Sara—girl, Anna would be one naïve dancer without the intervention of your expertise. Thank you for enduring my endless questions and emails. Your gift as an artist has touched me many times, and I’m so blessed to partner with you in sharing a story that celebrates the beauty of dance.

Rachel, thanks for standing in as my resident pet expert, name choice suggester, and suspense protocol checker. What would we do without crime shows? Especially ones with blue-eyed beauties?

Franky and Rachel, thanks for fitting this story into the nonstop schedules that come along with being a mom and author. Your critiques and suggestions have once again helped me polish and tighten another manuscript.

Julie, thank you for offering your super sharp proofing skills. I’m so glad we’ve connected and get to share in our love of New York and in books. You’re a joy to work with.

Mom, Beth, Nora, and Katie, thanks for encouraging me to hold on to hope during the many moments I’ve been ready to let go.

Kevin, thank you for speaking into my life on our trip to Malawi. Your charge to be God’s paintbrush to cheer this dark world continues to be my mantra as an author and is part of what inspired this book.

To all my readers who’ve taken the time to leave a review and help spread the word about Evan and Anna’s story, your support and enthusiasm are an immense blessing. I can’t make it as an author without you.

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