“You sound grouchy,” a familiar voice said. He whirled to find Xander and scowled.
“I only invited you so you can help me get really drunk if Tara doesn’t show. I don’t need your shit.”
Xander laughed. Yeah, he was always freaking amused when someone else’s balls were on the chopping block.
“I heard you on the phone with Thorpe the other day. He wants your membership card?”
Another sore spot with Logan. Tara didn’t yet wear his collar, and he couldn’t prove that she’d agreed to be his wife. If she’d get her sweet ass over here, he’d take care of that. If she didn’t . . . “I told him to shove his membership up his ass.”
“Definitely grouchy. Really, Logan. Hunter is right; she’ll come.”
“Yeah, then where has she been for two fucking days?”
“I don’t know, but trust me, she loved you then, and she loves you now. You just have to know that, no matter what happened in the past, she’s opened her heart to you again.”
God, how badly he wanted to believe that.
Fuck this. Even if Tara didn’t show today, he would come after her on his next leave. And his next. And every single one after that, each and every day, until he wore her down. Because he wasn’t living his life without the one woman who meant more to him than every sunrise, every moment of life, every single breath.
Logan let out a deep, shaky breath. “Thanks, man.”
Xander slanted a teasing glance at him. “You think I’m full of shit?”
“Pretty much.”
“How about a friendly bet? Fifty bucks.”
He glanced at his watch. Two minutes before the ceremony. She wasn’t coming. And she’d be facing a really pissed off SEAL at her door as soon as this shindig was over.
“Sure.” Unfortunately, it would be the easiest money he’d ever made.
“Yeah?” Xander smiled broadly. “Pay up.”
With a lift of his chin toward the parking lot, he clapped Logan on the back.
He whirled—and his heart jumped into his throat.
Fuck me, she’s here.
Blood rushed and roared through his body, most of it leaving his brain and settling into his cock when he saw her in a gorgeous dress in a shimmering gold, its thin spaghetti straps clinging to her pale, lightly freckled shoulders. He didn’t think she was wearing a bra. She flashed him a shy smile, her eyes peeking out from behind her bangs.
Hell, if she was wearing a bra, he could get it off in a few seconds with a little privacy. Her panties, too.
Tara slowed as he jogged toward her. She stopped a good two feet away. “Hi.”
That was it? Just ‘hi’
?
“Thank you for coming. Are you okay?” Damn, he didn’t know what else to say.
She nodded. “You said that you wanted me here, so I wasn’t going to miss it.”
Hope wrenched at his heart, but there was still a long way between showing up to his brother’s vow renewal and wearing his ring. For all he knew, she’d come out of pity—or guilt.
“I’m glad you’re here.” He took her hand, pulled her closer, gratified when she didn’t pull away. “I’ve missed you. I’m sorry about . . .” God, he could be here all day apologizing for his multitude of sins—everything from shooting Adam to being a complete pervert. “Everything.”
She closed her eyes as she drifted near, but her face tightened, her pouty lips trembling. Damn it, she was going to cry.
“Cherry . . .”
Covering her mouth with her hand, she tensed and sniffled. “I—I’ve missed you s-so much. I owe you my life. And I’m so sorry that it was almost too late before I believed y-you. I spent so many years trying to convince myself that I hated you.” She drew in a shuddering breath.
She wasn’t pissed at him?
“Get it all out,” he encouraged. As long as she was talking, he was listening.
“I knew better. I never got over you. But when confronted with a choice, when I knew that you would never deceive me again, I didn’t let go of what I thought was the truth and just believe you. I know trust in any relationship is really important, but in a BDSM rel—”
“Shh.” He wanted to take her in his arms so badly, but feared she’d only back away until they’d hashed it all out. “Trust is important, but I shattered yours completely years ago. You had a long time to live with that betrayal. You had no way of knowing that I’d never stopped loving you. I’m willing to take whatever time we need to build the trust back up.”
She sobbed again, and this time he did pull her close, right against his chest. Damn, it felt so good to have her against him, and he cradled her head against his shoulder.
“But you needed me to believe you, and I didn’t.”
“I
wanted
you to believe me,” he corrected. “I needed you to come through, and you did. If you want to talk about it, I’m here for you.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I’ve spent the last few days getting myself in order. I’ve had my debriefing, and psych has checked me out. Darcy was released from the hospital this morning, and I got her settled back at her place. She misses Robert, but she’s going to be okay. I finished making Adam’s burial arrangements. I also quit the FBI. I’m not cut out for fieldwork, and my relationship with Adam hasn’t helped my reputation at the bureau. I’ll take my analysis experience elsewhere. And during all that, I’ve worried that I ruined everything between you and me.”
Hope settled into his chest, making it light until he felt like he could soar.
“Don’t worry about what you
think
I feel or could happen. Just answer me one question, Cherry: Do you trust me now?”
“Absolutely. I’ll never doubt you again.” She did her best not to sob.
He thumbed away her tears. “Good girl. He was your stepfather, so I know it must be hard. I wanted him to have to stand up for his crimes, face the families of his victims and pay. Shooting him wasn’t my plan. But I couldn’t let him hurt you.”
“I’m sorry he hurt
you
.” She caressed his cheek, thumbed his dark brow. “That he killed your mother.”
“You had nothing to do with that,” he assured. “Now tell me, what do you want next?”
“I want to spend my life with you. I love you.”
Relief and delight poured through him, a warm fall of abiding devotion and a yearning to grow old with her.
“I’m sorry he took so many years away from us,” she added.
“But we’re together now.”
She gave him a watery smile, shades of joy lighting up her face this time. “Yeah . . .”
Logan dragged her over to a nearby folding chair and fished in his pocket as he pulled Tara into his lap. “Cherry, baby, I loved you at sixteen. I love you now. I’ll love you always. This was my mother’s.” He opened the box and showed her Amanda’s engagement ring.
She gasped and started crying again.
“I’d be honored if you’d be my wife. Will you belong to me?”
“Yes.” She nodded as fresh tears streamed down her cheeks. “Always.”
Tara threw her arms around his neck, and he curled her into his embrace, burying his face in her neck. They’d overcome so much, grown back together, and were stronger for it. Now, they only had to pick a date and a time and state their vows before God and their loved ones, and he would hold her for the rest of their days.
Around them, people started clapping, and his brother rushed over to give him a hearty handshake. As he tried to get his shit together and not bawl like a baby, he slid the engagement ring on Tara’s finger. She gave him the most beautiful smile. It lit up his heart.
“When can we get married?” The idea of waiting another six months for his next leave didn’t thrill him, but he knew it took more than ten minutes to plan a wedding. Damn it, he didn’t need all the pomp; he just needed Tara.
“The sooner the better.” She put his hand on her flat belly, then bit her lip and smiled again. “Just in case.”
Holy shit!
He hoped that their love had taken root in her womb and would soon give them a child. If he had his way, the first of several.
“How does a quick trip to Vegas sound?” he asked, grinning. “Like tonight?”
In the background, his father groaned, and Hunter just laughed.
Tara kissed his lips soundly. “It sounds perfect.”
KEEP READING FOR AN EXCERPT FROM SHAYLA BLACK’S NEXT EROTIC NOVEL
Mine to Hold
COMING SOON FROM HEAT BOOKS
“T
YLER, are you aware that all the girls at Sexy Sirens have nicknamed you Cockzilla?”
He laughed. That rich, deep sound Delaney Catalono hadn’t heard for two long years sang in the humid August air, making her heart clench. After all the trials and miles—and lately, the bullets—she never believed she’d hear Tyler Murphy’s voice again. Certainly, she’d never imagined to hear it in BFE, Louisiana, hiding in the shadows of his back patio like some sad stalker. She wasn’t at all surprised to hear that some group of girls had given him a moniker about his sexual prowess. Delaney remembered exactly how good he’d been.
Her heart clenched again.
Peeking around the corner, she saw Tyler’s broad shoulders and upper back encased in a charcoal gray T-shirt. His blonde hair had been cut brutally short, exposing his sun-kissed neck. He clutched the chair, his forearms looking bronzed, heavily veined, and vital under the patio lights. Around a table, he was surrounded by a virtual harem: two redheads, a platinum blonde, a Latina brunette, and an auburn-haired model-type—each totally gorgeous in her own way.
Some things never change
. Tyler, with his sparkling green eyes and Hollywood smile, had probably had girls chasing him since puberty. Not that it mattered to her anymore.
Been there, done that. Burned the T-shirt.
“And that’s a bad nickname, why?” Tyler returned to the stunning blonde beside him, picking up his bottle of beer and taking a long swallow.
As the other women laughed, Delaney glanced over her shoulder, hoping like hell that she hadn’t been followed. She breathed a sigh of relief that she was alone. How nice would it be if her most pressing problem were others’ opinions. How nice would it be if someone didn’t want her dead.
“Ladies . . .” the blonde’s voice warned. “This is not funny. Remember the plan?”
“Alyssa is right,” said the brunette with the sinful curves. “We’re worried about you.”
“That’s very sweet, Kata, but acting like you care isn’t going to persuade me to watch another crappy
Twilight
movie with you.”
“You liked it,” Kata accused.
Tyler snorted. “You wish.”
He had probably liked it more than he wanted to admit. Tyler liked high-testosterone thrillers, yes, but he’d admitted under the influence of Señor Cuervo that he kinda liked chick flicks, too. Once upon a time, he’d been her buddy of choice to curl up with on the couch and rent movies, Delaney remembered with a wistful smile. Then she frowned.
You burned the bridge. Move on
.
“Focus here.” Alyssa’s voice brought the subject back around. “This is an intervention. Morgan, Kimber, Kata, Tara, and I are united about the fact that you need help.”
“A what? C’mon. I’m not a drug addict or an alcoholic. I’m no danger to myself or others.”
“That’s debatable,” the auburn-haired beauty cut in. “Can you make it a whole day without getting in some stripper’s thong? Our guess is no.”
Delaney winced. It was just as well that she was here to ask for his help, not his hand in marriage.
“Ouch, Kimber. You wound me.” Tyler slapped a hand over his chest dramatically.
“Cut the crap,” she demanded. “You
can’t
make it a whole day, can you?”
“Sure, I could. But why torture myself?”
“It’s bad for my business,” Alyssa chimed in again. “I don’t need any more catfights on stage about who’s getting Cockzilla tonight.”
“Hey, your patrons loved it. Better than Jell-O wrestling. Got a rise out of me.”
Delaney heard the humor in his voice. The women in his life were staging an intervention, and he wasn’t taking it seriously. No surprise there. What was a surprise, however, was that none of the women seemed to be fighting over him themselves. Not yet, anyway.
Another woman scoffed and waved her hand. “I haven’t known you that long, but seriously, a stiff wind could get a rise out of you.”
The lovely redhead with the sultry brown eyes wore a wedding ring. Then again, bands of gold had never stopped Tyler before. She ought to know.
“You noticed, Tara? I’m touched.” Tyler slapped a hand over his heart.
“Don’t give me that,” Tara scolded. “Alyssa is being really serious. We all are.”