Crazy Little Thing (38 page)

His face relaxed and he smiled as he pulled me from the dance floor. We moved away from the crowd, until we stood in the sand, under the moonlight.

“Sadie, I don’t want to say good-bye.”

“Well, good for you, Des, but I could use a little closure.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “No. I mean I didn’t take the job in Seattle.”

Wait
.

What?

“You didn’t? Why?”

He pulled me close. “Why do you think?”

I racked my brain for a logical answer. Because his parole officer said he couldn’t leave the state? Because he’d been nominated for surgeon general? Because his Argentinean girlfriend was taking him to Bora Bora? Try as I might, I could only come up with one good reason. Because he was crazy about me and couldn’t bear to leave my side.

Just to be on the safe side, I said, “Why don’t you tell me?”

He sighed and brushed the wind-whipped hair away from my face. “I just wasted five days of my life on a sailboat with a bunch of guys. We spent the first couple of hours thumping our chests and talking about how great it was to be us, to be men out on the open water. But honestly, Sadie, by the second day all anyone talked about was their wives and their kids. It made me realize what I had back here in Bell Harbor.”

That was hardly the declaration of love I was hoping for. “In other words, you got lonely out at sea and now you want some company?”

He chuckled at my dissatisfaction. “No, Sadie. Not just any company. Your company. I want you. I want to make a life here, with you.” He squeezed my hands, stirring up a flock of butterflies deep inside my belly.

“I’m sorry I left without telling you,” he said. “I guess I panicked a little. I’m not very proud of that, but it’s been a long time since I needed somebody. I need you, and it makes me...flustered. You know what that means, right?”

He was teasing, but I didn’t mind.

“Yes, I am familiar with flustration.”

He smiled. “You do realize that’s not a word, right?”

“It is in my world.”

“All right. Well, I like your world.” He pulled me closer.” I like all the stuff in it. I like all the people in it too.” He gazed down, as if searching my face for his answer. “God, Sadie. I missed you. I missed you like crazy.”

I breathed in the smell of the water and the cooling sand, the smell that always brought happy memories. And here was a brand new memory in the making.

“I missed you a little bit too,” I said.

“Just a little bit?”

“Mm, maybe a lot. I can’t remember. I was pretty busy with the party.”

Des laughed and pulled me tightly into his wonderful arms. I smiled up at him and at the stars, and at last we shared a glorious and much-needed kiss. And then another and another. The moment was sublime, like lying on white sand beaches near blue Caribbean waters, with a piña on one side and Des pressed up against me on the other.

My heart went pop, pop, sparkle, sparkle, shimmer, shimmer, sigh...

The party momentum slowed until at last only a few of us remained. We gathered down by the water’s edge, sitting on beach blankets and listening to the waves. Penny and Jeff snuggled together with Jordan snoozing between them. Dody sat next to Harry with a fluffy new barrette in her hair. It was his birthday gift to her, purchased from the Audubon Society and made entirely from goose feathers. Beth and Jasper were there too. Every few minutes she would hold out her left hand and watch her engagement ring sparkle in the moonlight.

Off to the side, Des and I shared another spot, leaning against each other with Paige curled up and resting her sleepy head on my leg.

Fontaine brought down a tray of drinks and passed them all around. Then he plopped down next to Kyle.

“Sadie says you make a pretty fierce boyfriend,” I heard him say quietly.

Kyle smiled. “Yeah, but she dumped me. Looks like I’m available again,” he murmured back.

Fontaine shook his head. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

They tapped their glasses together and drank. Love might be inconvenient, but it was also persistent.

Dody sighed happily. “Thank you again, darlings. I don’t imagine a party at the Taj Mahal could have been any more magnificent. What a simply delightful evening. Jasper, you coy, romantic devil, I had no idea you were going to pop the question. And I’m usually so astute about these things. Beth, did you know he was going to do that?”

Beth wiped the corner of one eye. “No. But I’m sure glad he did.”

Jasper leaned over and kissed her cheek while she looked at her ring again. He’d gotten the one he wanted, and it suited her perfectly. Joy for them fluttered over me. They’d be happy. I could see it. And how nice that Richard’s gift, which had lost all its luster to me, could be recycled into a brand new future.

“I knew I could trust Madame Margaret,” Dody added. “She said this night would be beyond compare.”

“Madame Margaret? Is that the psychic you went to?” Des asked.

I nodded. “Dody made me.”

He chuckled. “Dody is very persuasive. So what did this psychic tell you about your future?”

I wove my arm through his and snuggled closer. “She told me I’d meet a tall, dark, handsome doctor and my future looked simply delightful.”

“Did she really say that?”

“Maybe I’m paraphrasing.”

He smiled at me, his dimples shadowed in the moonlight.

I smiled back, thinking how the life before me looked full of wondrous possibilities.

The moon was high, the night was dark, but deep inside, I was the sunshiniest girl around.

THE END

Acknowledgments

IF I COULD PERSONALLY THANK each kind person I have encountered along this journey, I would do it, but for the sake of brevity, I’ve whittled down the list to a few very special individuals who have helped make this dream come true.

First and foremost, thanks to my husband and our children for supporting me in innumerable ways, from sharing my joy over each tiny victory to bringing me toaster waffles and (more) coffee. Without you, none of the rest matters.

Thank you to my sisters for their endless encouragement, which they give freely even while disagreeing with me about how to build a snowman. And thanks to Jim and Joan for their boundless support and generosity.

To my
Three Cheeka Honey Badgers
, Kimberly Kincaid, Alyssa Alexander, and Jennifer McQuiston. You are the awesomesauce on my sundae of life.

To Meredith, whose glowing endorsement of the first draft of my first novel was “Hey, this totally doesn’t suck,” and to Kris, who doesn’t really like books but promised if I published one, she’d read it. You two have been my dear friends for most of my past, and will be my dear friends for all of my future. Thank you for each and every laugh.

To Jane, who read every word of every draft with her red pen poised and at the ready. Thank you for spending endless hours with me discussing the merits of Desmond’s stupid awesome hair.

To Jenny, whose excellent professional advice was, “I know you like that
Gone with the Wind
stuff, but you should write something funny.”

To Hillery, Peggy, Heather, Scott, Sue, Jeff, Samhita, Kim, Dave, Marti, Ted, Mary Beth, Ashlyn, Andrea and Tracy. Thank you for your words of encouragement. They always came at just the right time.

To Marc Graham, Sharon Kendrew, and Jeanette Schneider Vollstedt, a.k.a. Kilt Guy, Boston, and Miss J. Meeting you changed my trajectory and I am forever grateful. See You @ Arno’s. I’m buying.

To Dr. Gil Padula, thank you for graciously sharing your medical expertise so I might include a smidge of it in this story. I appreciate your generous spirit.

To my wonderful friends from Romance Writers of America, the Mid-Michigan Chapter, the Starcatchers, the Firebirds, the Dashing Duchesses, and to all the awesome authors who’ve offered their knowledge and support (Kristan Higgins and Delilah Marvelle, I’m looking at you), thank you, thank you, thank you.

To my agent, Nalini Akolekar, who has always believed in this book. My gratitude to her is boundless.

And finally, thank you to my amazing and tireless editor, Kelli Martin at Montlake Publishing. I will gush my full appreciation to her in private so as not to embarrass myself. For now, suffice it to say, working with her is an honor and a joy.

About the Author

Photo by Allie Gadziemski, 2012

PAST OR PRESENT, TRACY Brogan loves romance. She spends half of her time writing funny contemporary stories about ordinary people finding extraordinary love and the other half of her time writing sexy historical novels full of political intrigue, damsels causing distress, and the occasional man in a kilt. She is a two-time Romance Writers of America Golden Heart finalist, and she has won several RWA awards. Like most people born in Michigan, she has a tendency to point to the palm of her hand to indicate where she lives.

During the rare moments when she’s not writing, or thinking about writing, Tracy enjoys time with her family, traveling, and avoiding exercise at all costs.

Tracy loves to hear from readers, so please visit her website at
tracybrogan.com
or find her at
facebook.com/authortracybrogan
or
twitter.com/@tracybrogan
.