“No worries, the windows are open,” someone else said.

  Sadie shut the windows hard enough to rattle them and then jerked her chin at Caleb, gesturing to the front door. He stepped outside with her and the last thing he heard from inside before the door was shut was “Ten to one his body’s never found.”

  Sadie had been practicing all her life at playing it cool, at making sure no one knew when she was ruffled, much less down for the count, but all her skills had deserted her.

  Caleb not only had admitted to making a mistake and apologized for it, he wanted to make it up to her. But even that was eclipsed by what else he’d said.

  He loved her.

  He’d even said so in front of a bunch of people. He wasn’t afraid of the emotion nor of letting anyone else know about it.

  The magnitude of that—he’d chosen her!—had her heart overflowing so that she could barely breathe, much less speak, but she had to try. “First,” she said, “you’re not the only one who’s made mistakes.”

  She absolutely had his attention. His eyes held her prisoner, his entire body still. “I’m not?”

  She gave a slow shake of her head. “I used what happened as an excuse to run away. And actually, that’s a bigger mistake than yours. Because your mistake showed faith in me, in us. Mine showed a distinct lack of faith. And that’s what makes it so bad because it’s not true. I have faith in you, in us. I was just scared.”

  “Sadie,” he breathed quietly, reaching for her hand to pull her into him. “I get being scared. What we have took us both by surprise, you’re not alone there. But you need to know that what you’ve told me about you, about your past, whatever you haven’t told me about your past . . . none of it could ever change my opinion of you. If anything, what you’ve gone through makes me feel even more for you. You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met.”

  She stared up at him, afraid to hope. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to make a bunch more mistakes too. It’s how I’m programmed—”

  “I love how you’re programmed.” He cuddled her into him and she looked over his shoulder at Lollipop who was lying in a toasty, sunny spot, looking like she had no plans to move unless she was physically relocated or until she burst into flames.

  Sadie felt the exact same way being in Caleb’s arms.

  “Do you have any idea what you mean to me?” he asked, sliding a hand to the nape of her neck, thumb extended to nudge up her chin. “Everything,” he said in a heart-stopping voice. “You mean everything to me. I didn’t know how to face the fact that I might have scared you off forever.”

  A not-so-small lump formed in her throat. She’d spent so much time ignoring her feelings for him, and in return it seemed she’d also managed to ignore his feelings for her. She’d convinced herself that this was just a diversion, but it was so much more. She shook her head, marveled at the fact that she had this man in her life. “I can’t believe I almost let the guy I love walk right out of my life.”

  He stilled and pulled back to see her face. “You love me?”

  She froze in shock that she’d said the words, and he smiled. “You do,” he breathed. “You love me.”

  She dropped her forehead to his chest. “Maybe a little.”

  He lifted her off her feet. “You love me.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, terrified, throwing her arms around his neck. “I love you, okay? I never meant to, but I kept feeling all the little broken pieces of my heart give themselves to you. It’s terrifying, Caleb,” she said to his smile. “I’ve never really given my pieces away before, at least not to someone who could protect them and take care of them.”

  He kissed her gently. “I’ve got you, Sadie, I promise you. Give me all your pieces, I can take everything you’ve got.” He kissed her again, long and deep, until she broke off, breathing heavily.

  “We get to have a round of makeup sex now, right?” she asked hopefully.

  “Sadie, this is leading to a lot more than just a round of makeup sex,” he said, voice thrillingly rough.

  Her heart hitched. “Two rounds of makeup sex?”

  He smiled. “More.”

  She bit her lower lip and stared at him, taking in the affection and teasing in his gaze. And love. So much love. She was never going to get tired of that. “As much makeup sex as I want?”

  “Yes,” he said on a sexy laugh. “But tell me that you want more from me than just makeup sex.”

  “I do,” she said very seriously now, sliding her fingers into his hair to pull his head down to hers. “I want it all.”

  Epilogue

  A few weeks later

  The wedding reception was in full swing. Ten minutes ago, Sadie had stood at the edge of the dance floor watching Clara and Greg as they slow danced in each other’s arms. Her mom had come up to her and they’d watched together.

  “You look very nice tonight.”

  Sadie had turned to look at her mom in surprise.

  Then she’d felt Caleb come up behind her and his arms slid around her as he leaned in and nipped at her ear. Her entire body had quivered, and the next thing she knew, they’d taken a time-out from the wedding.

  Now, with his fingers still digging into her hips, he held her tightly to him. When they could finally breathe without gasping, he said, “I knew we’d end up here someday.”

  “Naked and sweaty in the back of your Audi?”

  He laughed. “Yes, but I was referring to something else.” He stroked the damp hair from her face while from not too far away, the music of the reception got louder. “Do you want one of these, Sadie?”

  “An Audi?”

  He grinned. “A wedding reception. But I’d be happy to throw in whatever car you want.”

  Her heart was beginning to pound in her chest again as she searched his gaze, which was serious in spite of the warm smile on his mouth. “Did you just ask me if I want to get married?”

  “Might be fun,” he said.

  “Are you insane?”

  He smiled. “Obviously.” He pulled a small black velvet box from a pocket and held it out to her. “But I don’t see why that should stop us.”

  Her mouth fell open. “Oh my God.” Her fingers, acting independently from her brain, took the black box and opened it, and then she was staring down at a gorgeous white—and be still her heart, also black—diamond ring.

  Caleb slowly slid it on her finger. “Feel like a good fit?”

  She stared at him. “You feel like a perfect fit.”

  With a smile, he kissed her tenderly. “Is that a yes?”

  “Yes.” The minute she said the word, a sense of warmth slid over her. Warmth, and the hope she’d held at bay. “You realize you should be worried,” she said to his goofy smile.

  “I’m the opposite of worried. I’m more at ease and happier than I’ve ever been.” He pulled her into him, wrapping her up tight against him so that she could feel the steady beat of his heart. Hers was flopping all over the place, but his calm infused her and settled her down.

  After a few minutes, he stirred first. “Did I ever tell you I knew that very first night when Lollipop adopted us that you’d be mine?”

  She pulled back to give him a baleful stare. “Yours?” she asked.

  He kissed her again. “Don’t worry. I’m yours too. In fact, I’ve been yours since before that night.”

  “But I was so bitchy to you before that night.”

  “Only before?” He smiled when she rolled her eyes. He cupped her face. “I knew,” he said with quiet certainty.

  It took her a while to find her voice thanks to the emotion that clogged her throat. Because she hadn’t known. She hadn’t dared to even hope they’d end up here, and to be honest, she was still shocked that they were. “Really?” she breathed as his lips traveled along her jaw toward her mouth. “You always knew?”

  “Always, Sadie,” he said. “It’s always been you.”

  Her eyes filled. “And it’s always going to be you.”

  They grinned at each other and he reached for her again, but she held him off, doing her best to smooth down her bridesmaid dress. “We’ve got to go back in before Clara kills me. How do I look?”

  “Perfect.” His eyes never left hers. “You look like the rest of my life.”

  An Excerpt from The Lemon Sisters

  Don’t miss

  THE LEMON SISTERS

  the next sparkling Women’s Fiction novel

  in Jill Shalvis’s Wildstone series

  Coming Summer 2019

  Chapter 1

  “I get that life sucks right now, but that’s never a reason to wear granny panties.”

  Without warning, the helicopter dipped sharply, and Brooke Lemon’s stomach went along with it. Suddenly, her view of a pretty sky shifted, and she was staring out at a craggy mountain peak, seemingly close enough to touch.

  Too close, and worse, they were nearly sideways. Fighting the vertigo, she swallowed hard at the jagged cliffs, shooting up thousands of feet into the air, vanishing in the clouds.

  There was nowhere to land.

  Compounding the terror, the previously benign sky had given way to a sudden cloud pack, dark and turbulent, and Brooke’s heart pounded in tune to the thump, thump, thump of the rotors. The chopper shuddered, straining to right itself. Her palms went slick, and she regretted that extra sleeve of cookies she’d inhaled at lunch, which seemed a lifetime ago now.

  “Brooke.”

  “Shh.” Afraid to so much as blink, she leaned forward, unable to tear her gaze away.

  “You’re green, Brooke. Close your eyes. Take a deep breath. In fact, you’ve been at this for ten straight hours, take a nap.”

  “I can’t nap! I have to stay awake for the crash!”

  “There’s no crash this time, I promise.”

  Pulling off her headphones, she leaned back in her chair and gulped in a deep breath. The video was paused, the lights came up, and then a few words rolled across the screen.

  Brooke Lemon, producer extraordinaire . . .

  “Funny,” she said.

  “And true.” Cole stood and studied her for a long beat. “You miss being out there. Being the one shooting the footage instead of putting it all together.”

  “No.” This was a big, fat lie. Of course, she missed it. She missed it like she’d miss air. She still hadn’t taken her eyes off the screen. The word “producer” mocked her. Sure, it was safer on this side of the camera, but hell yeah, she still yearned for the good old days.

  Not that she was about to admit it to her boss. Not only would Cole pity her, he’d want to talk about it.

  And she never talked about it. What was the point? The only way to fix this was to face her past. Her mistakes. And she couldn’t do that. Okay, that was a lie. She could. She just hadn’t figured out how. Avoiding his knowing eyes, she grabbed her backpack just as Tommy poked his head into the editing room. “Hey sweetness, how about some dinner?” His smile faded at whatever he saw on her face and he exchanged a long look with Cole, who gave a slight head shake.

  Tommy held out a hand for Brooke. “Come on, chica, I’ll buy.”

  She knew when she was being managed. The three of them worked on a Travel Network show called Around The World, which followed adventure seekers documentary-style as they took on different goals such as climbing “unclimbable” mountains, rafting “unraftable” rivers . . . basically, anything high-danger and high-adrenaline.

  Once upon a time, Brooke had been the principal photographer, but these days she worked solely from the studio, editing the footage and writing up the scripts for the supposed “reality” show, living a very different life from the one she’d imagined herself living. But it worked for her. It was all good.

  Or so she told herself in the deep, dark of the night.

  Cole was their showrunner and director. He was also a friend, and, when it suited them, also Brooke’s lover. It’d been a month this time, though, because the funding had been cut, leaving them on a tight budget and an even tighter deadline, which meant they’d been at each other’s throats much more than at each other’s bodies. Lust tended to take a back seat to murderous urges, at least for Brooke. Men didn’t seem to have a problem separating the two.

  Tommy was the show’s makeup and hair stylist and Brooke’s bff. They’d never been lovers. Mostly because Tommy preferred men, but he also tended to enjoy more than one person in his bed at a time. Or wherever he could get them.

  Since both guys knew her way too well, she avoided eye contact by going through her backpack to make sure she had her keys and wallet, which she already knew she did, because she was a teeny tiny bit compulsive about such things. Still, she touched each briefly and then zipped her pack. And then because she liked things in even numbers, she unzipped and re-zipped it a second time.

  Tommy turned to Cole in accusation. “Why is she upset? Did that new hottie publicist cancel on her for that concert last night?”

  “You actually went out with that guy?” Cole asked. “I told you that I’d take you.”

  “I canceled the date.” Brooke shrugged. “He wears too much cologne.”

  ‘I don’t,” Cole muttered.

  Tommy was still, eyes narrowed on Brooke. “The guy before that you said had a crazy mother.”

  “He did.” But that hadn’t been the problem. Before the waiter had even brought them drink menus, he’d told her he wanted to get married this year. Preferably in the fall, as that was his mother’s favorite season. And also the woman wanted a big wedding with all the trimmings. “Why are we even talking about this?” she asked, running the pads of her thumbs over the tips of her fingers, back and forth, back and forth. It was an old habit and a self-soothing mechanism. Not that it ever worked.

  Tommy watched her movements with worry. “Because you’re upset at something.”

  She shoved her hands in her pockets.

  “She had a flashback,” Cole said. “She always gets especially testy after one of those.” He met Brooke’s gaze, his own warm and full of concern. “Come home with me tonight. I’ll make you feel better.”

  Though she knew he could do just that, she wasn’t up for his special brand of “feel better.” “I’m fine,” she said, and slung her backpack over her shoulder. To keep either of them from following her, she went up on tiptoes and brushed a kiss to Tommy’s perfectly manicured beard, and then Cole’s shaved jaw. “I’m fine,” she repeated. “I’m also out. Saving you some overtime,” she told Cole.

  “You’re on salary.”

  “Yeah, which reminds me, I’m due for a raise.” She shut the door before he could respond and exited the studio into the LA heat. It was seven p.m. in late May and ninety-eight degrees. The humidity was high enough to turn her ponytail into something resembling a squirrel’s tail.

  Not that it mattered. She had no one to impress, nor the will to change that. Twenty-eight years old and she was a complete burnout on men.

  And possibly on life.

  She drove home, which was a rented bottom floor condo in North Hollywood only eight miles from the studio and thirty minutes in gridlock traffic—like tonight. So she added Los Angeles to the list of things she was burned out on. She missed wide open spaces. She missed fresh air and being outdoors. She missed thrill and adventure.

  Parking in her one-car garage, she headed through her interior door to her kitchen, mindlessly counting her steps, doing a little shuffle at the end to make sure she ended on an even number. Another self-soothing gesture. Some days required more self-soothing than others.

  Inside, she took a deep breath and tried to let go of the stress ball in her gut. The flashback had been the first in a long time and she’d nearly forgotten the taste of bone-deep terror that most people would never experience.

  She looked around. Her place was clean, her plants were alive—well, semi-alive anyway. Everything was great.

  She was working on believing that when a knock came at her door. And actually, it was more of a pounding, loud and startling in the calm silence of her living room. Not Tommy, he would’ve knocked politely and called her name. Cole would’ve texted her before getting out of his car.

  No stranger to danger, Brooke grabbed her trusty baseball bat on the way to the door. She hadn’t traveled the planet over and back more times than she could count without learning how to protect herself.

  Just as she leaned in to look out the peephole, there came another round of pounding, accompanied by a female voice. “Brooke! Oh God, what if you’re not home? Please be home!”

  Brooke went still as stone. She knew that voice, though it’d been a while. A long while. It belonged to her older sister, Mindy. Mindy had her shit together. She wore a body armor of calm like other women wore earrings, didn’t have to count in her head, and never lost her way or screwed up her entire life.

  But she kept up the frantic knocking and something else that sounded suspiciously like sobs.

  Brooke yanked the front door open and Mindy fell into her arms. They hadn’t seen each other in over a year and hadn’t spoken in months, and the last time they had, they’d hung up on each other.

  “What the hell?” Brooke asked, trying to extract herself.

  They weren’t a demonstrative family. Hugs were saved for weddings and funerals, or the very occasional family gathering where there was alcohol, copious amounts of it. Emotions were kept tight to the vest. But Mindy was demonstrating boatloads of emotion at high volume, clinging like Saran Wrap while crying and talking at the same time in a pitch not meant for humans.

  “Min, you gotta slow down,” Brooke said. “Only dogs can hear you right now.”

  Mindy sucked in a breath and lifted her head. Her mascara was smudged so badly that it was possibly yesterday’s mascara that just hadn’t been removed. She wore no other makeup. She was at least fifteen pounds heavier than Brooke had ever seen her. Her clothes were wrinkled and there was a suspicious-looking dark stain on her T-shirt, which was odd because Mindy didn’t wear tees. Her honey-colored, shoulder-length hair was the same color as Brooke’s, but Mindy’s hair always behaved. Not today. It was outdoing Brooke’s in the squirrel tail impersonation and looked like it was a week past needing a shampoo. She hiccupped, but thankfully stopped the sobbing.