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your body is back to…your own—”

“Nice save.”

“—what do you think about legalizing it now? We wouldn’t have to tell anyone, but…I’d like to

be married to you when the baby comes. I want you to think like I do, and you won’t until it’s official.

So let’s make it official. After the baby we can do a big event.”

“Make it official, like…when?”

“As soon as we can get a license. Today if you want.”

“I doubt any government offices are open past five.” I put a hand on my chest to stop my heart

from trying to explode out of my ribcage. Suddenly I couldn’t breathe.

“I can arrange it if you don’t mind getting married by a judge…”

“Oh my God.” I took deep breaths. A wave of excitement I didn’t realize I’d been suppressing

crashed down onto me. He was serious. He wanted to marry me
right now.
I could become Mrs.

Carlisle today.

I looked up into those sexy brown eyes and fell in. The answer came naturally. “Yes.”

Chapter Fifteen

Hunter and I stood in a patch of grass with the garden party spread out behind us. In front of us was Tim, Trisha’s friend and a judge. He could marry people. And was,
right now.

I was jittery and excited and happy and on the verge of tears as I faced Hunter. What was better—

my mom was sporting a genuine smile again. As soon as she’d heard Hunter would continue to ensure

she was taken care of, she had a green light for happiness.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join Olivia Jonston and Hunter Carlisle in

matrimony…” Tim squinted down at the piece of paper he was reading. He’d actually never married

anyone before and had no idea what to do or say.

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the man standing in front of me.

As the words of forever drifted around us, I fell into Hunter’s eyes, full of love and longing, of

joy and support. When the time came, I gave him my hand so he could slip his grandmother’s wedding

ring onto my finger, a circle made of diamonds. It was something Trisha hadn’t offered Hunter when

he’d proposed to Denise all those many years ago. We were breaking the mold of his past. The last

weight pressing down on him was being lifted.

Hunter’s ring had been purchased an hour before from the nearest jewelry store still open. I

slipped it on his finger, cherishing his smile and look of devotion. It was happening. I was marrying Hunter Carlisle!

“Will you, Olivia Jonston…take Hunter Carlisle to be your awfully wedded—sorry!
Law
fully

wedded wife. Dang it. Husband! The ink is smudged right there, I apologize.” Tim took a deep breath

and tried again. “Will you, Olivia Jonston, take Hunter Carlisle to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, through sickness and in health, till death do you part?”

“I do,” I said, laughing through happy tears.

“Hunter Carlisle, will you take Olivia Jonston to be your
law
fully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”

“Now he’s got it,” Mike rumbled. There was a smattering of laughter and sniffles both.

“I do,” Hunter said softly.

“By the power vested in me, by the state of Indiana—California, sorry. It says the wrong state. By

the state of California, I now declare you husband and wife.” Tim sighed in relief and lowered his

paper. I laughed again.

“Kiss the bride!” someone shouted.

“What?” Tim brought the paper back up.

“Tell him to kiss the bride!” people shouted.

“Oh right, right.” Tim wiped his forehead. “You may kiss the bride!”

Hunter put his hand to my chin as everyone clapped and whistled, and leaned into me. Our lips

connected, soft and sweet, his first kiss as my husband.

“I love you, Olivia,” Hunter said softly.

“I love you.”

He kissed me again before throwing an arm over my shoulder and smiling at the crowd of

onlookers. Champagne popped and people cheered, our family as happy as we were. Today was the

first day of the rest of my life, and I couldn’t wait for the days to come.

Epilogue

Istepped outside and let the Napa Valley sun rain down on me. I had a tray in my hand full of

cheeses and my body was almost back to normal. It had been one year to the day since I gave birth to my healthy baby boy. He was big at eight pounds, one ounce, with little baby rolls on his thighs and arms. My mom suggested we name him Hunter. Thankfully, Hunter was the first to say no to the idea,

preferring he had his own identity.

I took the plate to the table set up on the patio. We’d decided to have little Brandon’s birthday at our Napa Valley estate, since it had plenty of rooms for visitors to stay, not to mention we stayed here most often these days.

“Do you need help?” Kimberly asked. She was sporting her shiny diamond ring with her own

wedding only a couple of months away.

Hunter had talked to Robby like he said he would, and it turned out, Robby already had a ring. He

just couldn’t settle on a way to ask. He’d put so much pressure on himself that he repeatedly talked himself out of the whole situation. All it took was one brainstorming session with me and the

assurance she’d say yes, and he was off to the races.

Speaking of weddings…I really needed to get on that. Or at least a reception. But really, it was

just a few friends that hadn’t witnessed the event, and all but Kimberly hated weddings anyway. What was the point? Everyone would know the white dress was a sham—I already had a kid! And a

husband!

“No, Kimmie, I’m fine. We have the caterers—I was just bringing this out since I was on my way.

Trisha will probably scold me for it.”

“Hey, baby,” Hunter said as he slipped his hand around my waist.

I leaned into his warmth. It was sunny, but it wasn’t summer. There was still a decided chill to the air, and Hunter’s heat cut right through it. I angled my face up. He bent to plant a soft kiss on my lips.

Together we watched my mom slowly saunter behind Brandon with a glass of wine in her hand.

“I cannot believe he’s walking already,” Kimberly said. As she said it, Brandon tumbled in a heap

of little legs and arms. Undeterred, he started crawling across the grass. My mom kept stride.

“Livy, honey…” Trisha, the real organizer of this party, walked up to us. “It’s time to cut the cake.

I’ve started to gather everyone.” She gestured toward the far table where the face painter was moving out of the way.

We followed her over, moving to stand beside Bert’s huge girth. I didn’t get to see him much

anymore because we didn’t have a commute with our office being our laptops, and we weren’t in the

city much. Our company was going strong—stronger than even Hunter had anticipated. We were

bringing in large amounts of money, had a solid fan base, and kept producing games that ranked high

and had great reviews. We’d just launched our first “world,” where people could compete across

country lines. So far, so good.

Hunter had kept his promise. He worked less than forty hours, and spent all the time he could with

his son. He was every bit the great dad he wanted to be, kind and patient, and always loving. While

he might keep the world at bay, he never distanced himself from Brandon or me. He doled out plenty

of hugs, kisses, and I-love-yous.

“Where’s the birthday boy?” Bert bent down to his wife, a short, petite little thing that defied

logic when it came to match-ups. She pointed to the grass where my mother was trying to wrangle a

crying baby. It wasn’t easy with the glass of wine.

“Oh shoot,” I said, starting off in that direction.

“I’ll get him!” Bert jogged over, bending down to scoop him up. Brandon squealed with laughter

as Bert held him out like an airplane, flying through the sky.

“Let’s get that cake divided up. Looks delicious.” Brenda sipped a glass of red wine. I didn’t

realize she drank anything other than coffee.

Bert handed Brandon to Hunter, and I took a moment to marvel how alike the two were. Brandon

was the spitting image of his daddy, except his eyes were lighter like mine. There could be absolutely no doubt whose son he was.

I smiled and snuggled into them. Hunter hefted Brandon into one arm, and encircled me with the

other, while the caterers finished setting up.

We’d had a large package delivered that morning from an anonymous source. Within the package

was a giant bundle of toys, and an account in Brandon’s name with a hundred thousand dollars in it,

due when Brandon turned eighteen. The postmark was two miles away from Rodge’s house. The

account was set up by Rodge’s office. He might not have gotten along with his son, but Rodge was

trying to take care of his grandson. There was no way I’d allow the man access to my kid, but it had to be acknowledged that he was doing right by Brandon.

I closed my eyes for a moment of bliss as a swell of love filled me. That first yes had changed my

life. Looking back, there were moments of pain, and some of sorrow, but I wouldn’t change one single thing from the first moment I met Hunter. How it all worked out was perfection.

The End

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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Try Surviving Love

Check out this stand-alone romance
here
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Synopsis:

Sara thought she had it all, but when her life turns upside-down, she does the only thing she can

think of: pack up and follow a childhood dream. She takes a job on a dude ranch in rural Montana

hoping to pick up the pieces.

She never thought she’d see him again.

Mike Frost is all grown up. 6’2” of solid muscle, he’s the best friend from her youth, and the man

every woman wants. With a list of successes a mile long, Mike has it all…

Except for the one that got away.

Sometimes you have to start over to find your happily ever after.

Excerpt:

“Trust me, those two classes will seem like five!
Oh my
God
…” Christie’s fingers wrapped around Sara’s wrist. “Don’t freak out!”

Sara started and looked up quickly, expecting some sort of emergency. Instead, her gaze met a

wide expanse of muscular shoulder. “Why? What’s happenin—”

“Hi, Mike,” Christie said, yanking on Sara’s wrist to make her step closer.

In confusion, Sara tilted her face upward and met that spun-honey gaze she’d seen a moment ago.

“How are you?” Christie asked.

The fingertips digging holes in Sara’s arm were starting to hurt.

Mike’s gaze flicked toward Christie. He nodded before his focus settled back on Sara a moment

later. “Sara Michaels, right?”

“Um, yes?” she answered hesitantly.

He stared expectantly.

Her eyebrows rose slowly. Was she supposed to recognize him, somehow?

Taking his extended pause as a
yes,
she scanned his vaguely familiar face. High cheekbones and a narrow nose adorned his handsome appearance. The color of his eyes was even more spectacular up

close, with bursts of browns, hazel, and flecks of green wrapped in lush black lashes. Completing the tableau was a strange sort of command in his bearing—dominance, almost—with a hint of arrogance

that often came from a silver spoon and a lingering case of Huge-Bank-Account-Itis.

She shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t think I know you…”

“I’m Mikey Frost,” he said. “Jack’s son. We grew up together…”

Her brow furrowed as she made sense of those names.

“Mikey Frost…” she whispered, calling up the face of the boy in the back of his parents’ car,

waving as he drove away.

She looked at the man in front of her again, struggling to wipe away the haze of memory. With

difficulty, she placed the handsome, chiseled face over that of the pudgy boy’s from her memories.

Those same eyes looked at her.

A thrill ran through her. “No way,” she breathed. Emotions, long forgotten, bubbled up out of

nowhere. Butterflies filled her stomach.

“No freaking way,” she said, louder. The world spun around her as joy blossomed.

“Oh my God! Oh my
God!
” she screamed. Like a teenager, she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Holy heck, Mikey!”

She stepped back so she could see his face. “I haven’t seen you in… Jesus, how long has it