He’s looking right at me, his face full of apology and adoration and something I’ve never seen there before.

  Love.

  My chest heaves. I put my hands over my heart as if I’m afraid it will fall at his feet again. Fresh tears come. Is he really here for me? And is he going to sing?

  He is. He does. And his ability to carry a tune is just as terrible as it was the last time, only now he actually knows the words and he doesn’t seem to care what anyone else thinks. He’s singing his heart out—literally. And he’s looking right at me and as he vows that he needs me more than he wants me…and that he will want me—and only me—for all time.

  My knees give out. I lose my composure completely.

  Griff supports me with strong hands and guides me gently toward his brother. Maxon comes off the stage to meet me and wraps a supportive arm around me before he brushes his thumb over my cheek and wipes away my tears.

  As the song’s instrumental interlude begins, he relinquishes the mic to the stand. Who cares if anyone sings the rest? All I want is the man in front of me.

  I stare up at Maxon’s face, his green eyes caressing me with a heartfelt devotion I never thought I’d see from him.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “So sorry. What I did was wrong and thoughtless and not at all indicative of the fact that, in my heart, you’ll always come first.”

  Words fail me. I know he means that, not because he’s spoken but because he’s now shown that he’ll sacrifice everything—his career-making deal, his need to best his brother, even his substantial pride—for me.

  He loves me.

  I sob into his chest.

  He crooks a finger beneath my chin. “Hey, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. Did you see what I’m wearing?”

  I’m still hoping all of this means that he wants me back as I send him a watery gaze. “Wearing?”

  What does that have to do with anything?

  Then he shows me the timepiece on his arm. Black band, white face with Roman numerals. Cartier. “My grandfather’s watch. I realized I never wore it because I didn’t feel like a man of honor. You changed that. You changed me.”

  I send him a teary smile of hope. I wish I could stop crying, but I’m an emotional girl.

  I also admit when I’ve done something wrong, too. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth about who I was and why I was here when we met. I meant well, I swear. I knew Griff needed you in his life…and I figured you needed him, too.”

  “You’re right.” He waves my apology away. “If I had known you’d come for Griff, I wouldn’t have listened to any of the important things you had to say about changing my life and embracing love. That man didn’t deserve the truth—or you. But I’m going to spend the rest of my life being worthy of you because I love you.”

  With a kiss on my forehead, he drops to one knee and pulls a box from his pocket, then flips the lid open. It’s a simple solitaire winking at me from a thin gold band. It’s striking and beautiful and perfect. Everything inside me stops.

  He’s proposing?

  I hold my breath. “Are you serious?”

  He nods. “Marry me, sunshine. Please say yes. Nothing will ever again be more important to me than you. I promise.”

  I know some women might hold out longer, want to make him suffer and squirm. They would want to make sure he learned his lesson thoroughly. But I think he has, and that’s not how I roll. I love him. Why would I risk losing him again by saying no? If he screws up, I’ll remind him of his priorities.

  With a watery nod, I urge him to his feet. “Yes!”

  “Oh, thank fuck.” He sounds relieved.

  I laugh in joy. The audience claps and cheers uproariously. Then I cry again as he slips the ring on. It hugs my finger just right.

  “I’m glad you said yes because I have another surprise for you.” He whips out a set of keys from his pocket, along with a business card of a hammock on a beach. It reads Sunshine Coast Bed and Breakfast. The address matches the house we toured together, the one in which I pictured our happy future. It lists the proprietors as Keeley and Maxon Reed.

  I gasp as thrilled disbelief courses euphoria through my veins. “You…you bought the house?”

  “For you. When we met, you said you wanted to be happy. I’m going to make you delirious.” He grins at me. “Is it working so far?”

  “Yes.” I nod like an idiot because I can’t imagine being any happier. “This is perfect.”

  “Good. We already have our first booking eight weeks from now. It’s the beginning of our future.” He looks near tears, too. He’s holding me close, and I feel so cherished. “Tell me you love me.”

  The way he searches my eyes for my heart nearly takes me out at the knees again. I have a feeling he’ll be doing this every day.

  “I love you, Maxon Miles Reed,” I vow.

  “And I love you, Keeley Sunshine Kent.”

  I giggle. “That’s not my middle name.”

  “Whatever.” He shrugs. “It fits you. Just like you fit me. You’re my everything, sunshine.”

  It hits me in that moment that he’s mine to kiss and tease and feed every day. He’s mine to laugh with and make love to every night.

  I can’t imagine a better ending than that. A million emotions pelt me, and I wish I could tell Maxon everything I feel. I guess I could try…but I know a better way.

  After a glance at my ring sparkling under the muted lights overhead, I kiss my fiancé—I can’t believe I can call Maxon that—then lean over to the band and clue them in.

  Then I grab the mic with a sniffle. “Aloha, Lahaina. I’m a red-eyed but very happy Keeley Sunshine. I just have one more song for my groom-to-be, then I’m going to go start the rest of my life with him.”

  The obliging little band starts the music. Now I’m particularly grateful Gus brought in a keyboard. This song would be lost without it.

  As Ruelle’s “I Get to Love You” starts, I can’t contain my smile or my joy. It’s sparkling and sweet and hopeful, just like this moment.

  I’m going to cry through this ballad, too. But it’s a good cry. The happiest cry.

  Because Maxon has made me the happiest woman imaginable.

  As the song winds toward its close, I look his way and sing every word to him. I promise to love him and always choose him because I’m forever his and I’ll forever say “I do.”

  The bridge picks up about love being a journey. I can’t dispute that at all. I sing the song’s title a few times, blinking at the happy tears filling my eyes.

  Then he comes forward to wrap me in his arms and meet my gaze with the promise of forever. “I get to love you, too. And I always will, sunshine.”

  Want to see how Griff fights ruthlessly to claim Britta? Look for the continuation of the steamy, emotional Reed Family Reckoning series…

  I discovered my ex’s secret. Now I’ll do anything to win her back.

  MORE THAN NEED YOU

  Reed Family Reckoning: Siblings, Book 2

  by Shayla Black

  (available in eBook, print, and audio)

  Click here to purchase!

  I’m Griffin Reed—cutthroat entrepreneur and competitive bastard. Trust is a four-letter word and everyone is disposable…except Britta Stone. Three years ago, she was my everything before I stupidly threw her away. I thought I’d paid for my sin in misery—until I learned we have a son. Finding out she’s engaged to a bore who’s rushing her to the altar pisses me off even more. I intend to win her back and raise our boy. I’ll have to get ruthless, of course. Luckily, that’s one of my most singular talents.

  Sixty days. That’s what I’m asking the gritty, independent single mother to give me—twenty-four/seven. Under my roof. And if I have my way, in my bed. Britta says she wants nothing to do with me. But her body language and passionate kisses make her a liar. Now all I have to do is coax her into surrendering to the old magic between us. Once I have her right where I want her, I’ll do whatever it takes to prove I more than need her.

  ***

  EXCERPT

  I cup her hand tighter. “I was a bastard. Three years ago, I didn’t value you the way I should have. I didn’t love you the way I meant to. I…” Finding the right words is harder than I imagined. “I never meant to hurt you. But I know I did.”

  She’s had a long time to lovingly craft creative curses to rain on my head for the shit I did to her. I’m expecting to hear a litany of them. Instead, hurt flashes in her eyes. “What do you want me to say, Griff? What are you looking for? Absolution?”

  “Be mad. Yell at me. It’s okay. I’ll answer your questions. I’ll stand here and take your anger. Whatever will prove I’m serious. Whatever you need to feel better.”

  “I don’t feel anything at all.” She wriggles free and turns to retrieve another chair.

  Liar.

  So she doesn’t want to talk? Well, some situations call for more than words. They’ve never been my strong suit anyway.

  I take the second chair from her grip and set it in the corner beside the first. Then I wrap my fingers around her elbow and give a gentle tug. She stumbles against me. Our chests collide. She gasps. Her head snaps back. I pull her body closer to mine. Our eyes meet.

  “Angel,” I whisper as I cradle her cheeks in my hands and drop my head. She barely has time to draw another breath before I settle my lips over hers.

  Then I’m kissing Britta again after three long fucking years.

  A million sensations hit me at once. I inhale her familiar jasmine scent. I caress the velvet of her face, her nape. I hear her rapid intake of breath. Heat burns my veins. I’m melting. Her touch feels so electric. I’m dying. Holding her again is so stunning. Arousal hammers me—heart pinging, breaths sawing, cock hardening. But my feelings aren’t the same as before. Now they’re desperate. They’re so yearning. So deep.

  They’re the feelings of a man who finally understands love—and has been given a second chance to give it back.

  Touching her is also a comfort, like coming home after a long war. I feel as if I’ve fought myself and exorcised the demons of my past. I’m unshackled but I’m so chained to her that I’ll never be free. I don’t want to be.

  Memories of the hundreds of times I stripped her bare, physically and sexually, and left her blushing and smiling and panting my name bombard me. I’m haunted by the times she told me she loved me and I said nothing in return.

  Against me she’s frozen in shock. Her body is tense. Her fingers are splayed wide on my chest where they landed when she tried to catch her balance. She’s not moving her lips against mine. And goddamn it, I crave her response. I have to know I’m not the only one willing to give us another try.

  With a groan, I brush my lips over Britta’s again. If anything, she goes stiffer. I breathe against her and try like hell to coax her. I almost back off. But…she’s not yelling at me. She’s not shoving me away.

  I try one more time, giving her a suede-soft slide of my lips over hers. Then suddenly, she trembles under me. Her fingers begin to curl into my shirt. I sense that she wants to give in…but is trying so hard not to.

  “Kiss me.” I nudge her mouth open and hover. “Just once. I’ve missed you like hell.”

  The still moment hangs, suspended. Then finally she exhales and closes her eyes. Her arms curl around my neck. A little moan escapes the back of her throat as she tilts her head, parts her lips for me…

  And she invites me in.

  ABOUT SEDUCED BY THE BODYGUARD

  What will he demand in exchange for keeping her safe?

  I’m Sophie, pop-star princess.

  My career is on a superstar trajectory.

  Until the bullets start flying.

  The bodyguard I hired to protect me drags me to safety.

  But now I’m trapped alone with a man I barely know.

  One who lights my body on fire.

  But someone wants me dead.

  Rand can save me from evil.

  But his protection comes at a price…

  Enjoy this Forbidden Confession. HEA guaranteed!

  Arlington, Texas

  July 4

  10 a.m.

  Sophie

  Today is already hotter than the underside of Hades, but it’s also Independence Day. My agent, David, insists that hometown-girl-made-good appearing in one of the biggest parades in Texas is a great grassroots way to spread the word about my new single and my upcoming album, so I said yes. Besides, I’ve traveled the globe for the better part of a dozen years. It’s awesome to spend a day near home, surrounded by the smell of smoking brisket and the sight of people waving Old Glory again.

  “Ten minutes,” David proclaims as he sticks his head into the little bathroom at the back of one of the shops at the top of the parade route.

  Of course he’s wearing a suit, despite the fact it’s a hundred degrees today. And he looks impeccable doing it. The man is a stickler.

  “Thanks.” I check my red lipstick in the dingy mirror.

  This is as good as it’s going to get. My sparkling red minidress is an attention-getting showstopper, but the Stars-and-Stripes stilettos really spur a double take. I feel a bit like USO Barbie…who suddenly decided to walk a street corner.

  Then again, it matches my new image. Gone is my squeaky-clean child-star persona. Now I’m an adult—and David never misses an opportunity to remind people that puberty hit me hard and fast by dressing me in things that cling to my ass and show off the fact I very definitely have boobs. It’s annoying…but I can’t argue with results. It’s working.

  I’m just not sure I care anymore.

  Another problem for another day.

  “I’m ready,” I tell him as I hide my liquid lipstick in my cleavage.

  When I look up from tucking the tube between my breasts, there’s a stranger standing beside David, watching my every move. I would feel ridiculous…if he hadn’t knocked the breath from me with a glance.

  Holy sex drive! He’s a man, for sure, but he’s also as gorgeous as a god. He’s unbelievably tall with shoulders almost as wide, and he has eyes as dark as midnight. He’s wearing a black T-shirt that hugs the bulges of his biceps and exposes tattooed sleeves down both arms. Black denim and black boots complete the look. He’s going to swelter in today’s heat…but he’s going to look damn fine doing it.

  “Hi,” I say stupidly.

  He nods. “Ms. Larsen.”

  David intervenes. “This is Rand Garrison, your security detail for the parade.”

  The name fits him—hard, blunt, almost brutal. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Same,” he murmurs.

  The word doesn’t seem like a mere pleasantry. In fact, I’m hard-pressed to believe this man would bother with silly things like decorum or etiquette. I’ve met his type before—very serious and convinced he’s one of the people who stand between order and chaos in this dangerous world.

  “Where’s Rob?” I ask about the guy who’s my usual security detail.

  “Tossing his cookies like he’s doing a reenactment of The Exorcist. So you’ll spend the day with Rand. Former Marine and most recently a Dallas SWAT captain. Any questions?”

  For a two-hour gig full of lip-synching? “No.”

  “Great.” David claps his hands together impatiently. “You look fetchingly patriotic. Shake what God gave you for Uncle Sam, and you’ll do great. I’ll be waiting for you at the end of the route with Graham.”

  Graham Normoth, the new British pop sensation with a velvety voice and sensitive face. Women all over the globe swoon and scream for him. Probably because they don’t know the minute he’s alone with a woman he suddenly grows six hands and a tongue like a Hoover.

  “He’s here?”

  “He flew in last night and wanted to surprise you, but jet lag and traffic and whatnot. He told me he can’t wait to see you after the parade.”

  “Oh, great.” I do my best to sound chipper, but I’m pretty sure David knows I’m not happy.

  Rand steps back and into the glow of overhead lights. He’s got a wide diagonal scar through his left eyebrow. The damage skipped over his eye, then sliced its way down his cheek, stopping just short of his mouth. I’m blinking and staring stupidly when he gestures me out of the doorway and into a deserted hall.

  David hangs back, watching as Rand settles a big hand as hot as a furnace at the naked small of my back, above the backless dress’s scooped edge, before he smiles.

  What are you up to?

  I don’t have time to ask before Rand hustles me out of the little shop and guides me down the back of the parade route, flanking me as he escorts me to my waiting float, all while maintaining that hand on my bare skin. It’s all I can do not to shiver at his touch.

  “Do you know where I’m supposed to go?” I ask to cut the tension.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know the parade route?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did David arrange for you to ride the float with me?” It’s a genuine concern since I’ve had a few incidents over the years that rattled me.

  “Yes.”

  Clearly, he isn’t a talker.

  “Good. Anything else I should know?”

  “No.”

  Damn it, Rand is the most attractive man I’ve ever met—and he has zero interest in interacting with me. Between the people I meet in day-to-day business and the internet, I get propositioned a lot. I’m never interested. And now that I might be…he’s not. Just my luck.

  It doesn’t matter. After today, I’ll never see this guy again. I just need to perform for the couple of hours so I can get on with my life.

  “I’m sorry you have to bother with me today. I’m sure you have more important things to worry about.”

  The crowd thickens around us as more people finish the last-minute details for their floats and the accompanying performances. Rand turns watchful. Tense. He looks at everything and everyone with suspicion. “I don’t.”