But couldn’t...

  “Your hair’s down.” He’d kissed every inch of her body, been inside her many times in many ways and he’d never seen her hair free of its braid.

  And she was wearing shorts...and a tank top. Wearing her natural beauty, rather than playing it down.

  Like she’d been set free.

  And was coming to set him free? To tell him that she was going to take his advice and give life a chance?

  She handed him a piece of paper.

  “What’s this?”

  Her resignation from a business they hadn’t even officially registered?

  “Open it.”

  He did. And read.

  She’d adopted a puppy.

  “She’s one of the ones from the backyard breeder litters. She’s not spayed yet or ready to come home, but when she’s ready, she’s mine.”

  He grinned, so proud of her he couldn’t contain himself from reaching out and giving her a hug, rubbing his beard against her neck to tickle her.

  A friend connection, not a sexual one.

  When he let go, she stood there nose to nose with him, shoulders back, and said, “I know what I want, Greg.”

  He’d figured it was coming. Told himself he was ready for her to say that she was ending things with him, setting her sights on a real relationship with someone who could give her a real commitment.

  “You were right. What you said last night about me being closed off to forever love. And that bit about babies the other night. I do want them. I want a husband. I want a family. My own family.”

  He needed to hug her again. To hide the slight trembling in his smiling lips. He’d never known it could be possible for a heart to truly soar and to wither a little at the same time.

  “After dinner with your folks, seeing you with them, the way they’re helping with the business, the way they’ve been there for you...it’s so different from what I saw in my own family. But it’s what I want. And you know why I want it?”

  He shook his head.

  “Because the bond you guys share is what sees you through the tough times. You don’t quit. You find a way to roll with it. Roll through it. That’s what I want.”

  “Then, you will have it.” There was no doubt in his mind, or his heart. He could feel his eyes moistening, not with full-blown tears but with an emotion he didn’t even recognize.

  He loved her so much.

  Was so relieved that she was going to be truly happy.

  “But the thing is, I know for certain there is no other man out there, waiting to give it all to me.”

  What now?

  Surely she wasn’t going to throw another wrench into her possibility for happiness.

  “You want to know how I know?” she asked.

  He wasn’t sure he did. “I guess.”

  “Because I’ve already found him. I want you, Greg. Only you.”

  He took a deep breath, already stiffened from the inside out, ready to tell her in very certain terms why that wasn’t an option.

  Jedi nudged his hand at the same time Wendy’s finger gently covered his lips.

  “However it looks,” she said. “I don’t need a perfect family. I need our family. Whatever that means. If it’s you, living here, and me in Spring Forest... I’ll do it, but I’ll keep asking for more. If it’s us here, with you locked away from me in a separate room when you sleep, then it’s that. If the only kids you’ll allow yourself to have are of the canine variety, then that’s what we’ll have...”

  His eyes pooled with tears he couldn’t deny.

  “You and I both know there are no guarantees in life. But we also know that your family will be there, backing us up, no matter what challenges present themselves, just as we’ll be there for them. I mean, we’re both pretty much the best at serving others, right? So why not ourselves? And a family of our own?”

  He was about to bust wide open. Had to tell her to stop.

  But her finger was on his lips again, and he wasn’t strong enough to move it away.

  Or step away.

  “You can’t ask me to step out and risk everything if you aren’t willing to do it yourself.”

  He blinked. Her finger finally moved, freeing him to speak...but he had no rebuttal.

  Because she was right. Everything she’d said. About what she wanted, but about his family, too. Who they were, what they were. What they did for each other.

  And if his parents could stay in a dead bolted part of his house...or if a dog could eventually prove that Greg could fall asleep without the possibility of becoming brutal...but even if that couldn’t happen...the dead bolted part of his house with his bed in it...locking him away from the house filled with a wife and kids...a dead bolted door that only closed late at night after the kids were tucked in and he’d held his wife until she fell asleep...

  Life, people, weren’t perfect.

  But the most perfect love was staring at him out of a pair of green eyes he couldn’t escape. Didn’t want to escape.

  They’d beaten each other’s walls down to their cores. All that was left was raw honesty.

  And there was only one response coursing through him with a force he couldn’t block.

  In basketball shorts and a white sleeveless T-shirt, he knelt down with his good knee on the cobblestone walk and took Wendy’s hand in both of his.

  “Wendy Alvarez, will you—”

  His left leg, having just come from a harder-than-normal workout gave a little. Jedi nudged their clasped hands. Hard.

  And Greg stood up before he toppled over.

  “Talk about imperfect moments,” he said, but he was chuckling, clear to his bones. “I love you, Wendy. So much. I can’t promise miracles, but I can promise that I will never willingly leave you. Will you marry me?” he asked the woman who’d brought laughter back to his soul.

  Jedi nudged them again, and while he knew the dog could sense his tension, not understand his words, he amended, “Will you marry us?”

  “Yep.”

  There was no hesitation in her voice. Just the plain speaking he’d come to trust. From the woman he adored.

  Jedi barked. Wendy had tears in her eyes as Greg bent to give the love of his life a kiss filled with a lifetime of love, not just a moment.

  “And oh, by the way, I love you, too,” she said. “Both of you.”

  Jedi jumped up, his front paws on each of their arms. When he was working, that kind of behavior was not allowed, but for this moment as a young pup finding his forever home, his behavior was perfect.

  The three wounded warriors had become a family.

  * * *

  Look for the next book in the Furever Yours continuity,

  A Double Dose of Happiness

  by Teri Wilson

  on sale July 2022 wherever Harlequin Special Edition books are sold.

  And catch up with the previous books in the Furever Yours series:

  Home is Where the Hound Is

  by Melissa Senate

  More Than a Temporary Family

  by USA TODAY bestselling author Marie Ferrarella

  and

  The Bookshop Rescue

  by Rochelle Alers

  On sale now!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Sweet Home Alaska by Jennifer Snow.

  Sweet Home Alaska

  by Jennifer Snow

  PROLOGUE

  SKYLAR TOOK ONE last desperate gulp of air before she hit the tumultuous waves of the North Pacific Ocean. Pain radiated through her from the ten-foot fall from the boat, but within seconds she felt numb in the frigid water. Sinking lower and lower beneath the dark surface, bubbles rose all around her as gasps of panic and shock allowed precious air to escape. Ice pans bobbing above her prevented a clear path to the surface. They got farther away the deeper she plunged.

  Just how far would the tow take her under?

  Water churned around her as the unforgiving waves tossed her about. Her lungs ached from holding her remaining breath and her limbs struggled to tread through the current. Eyes wide, she scanned the water around her...seeing nothing except a narrow path illuminated by the light on her helmet.

  A dark shadow crossed the murky beam and her heart raced as her free fall slowed then stopped, and she began the unmerciful trek back to the surface. Moving her arms and legs as quickly as she could with the freezing water paralyzing her, she looked above as she struggled to make her way up.

  Survival...that was all that mattered. She had to stay calm and focused.

  Something brushed against her, forceful and strong, but instead of hindering her ascent, it accelerated it. She looked around, but saw nothing at first. Then another shadow...and another force as though she were being propelled upward.

  Sealena.

  Instead of fear, an eerie sense of calm enveloped her as she moved faster, following her light to the surface. She could see the boat now, and with a few more desperate strokes through the waves, her head crested the top of the water. She inhaled deeply and battled to stay above the merciless waves threatening to take her under again. Her limbs ached as hypothermia threatened to set in. Wind and blowing snow made it difficult to see as she frantically scanned the water around her for any sign of help. But with the poor visibility, no one could see her.

  Skylar was left bobbing alone in the frigid North Pacific Ocean.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Three Days Earlier...

  THEY SAY YOU can’t go home again. If only that were true.

  As Skylar Beaumont drove past the town limit sign with its featured serpent queen, Sealena, welcoming visitors to Port Serenity, the weight of expectation immediately settled on her shoulders.

  Could she really do this?

  Her heart had been pounding since she’d deboarded the plane in Alaska, her insecurities barely contained during the two-hundred-mile drive to her hometown.

  Her reflection in her coast guard uniform in the rearview was one she’d never doubted she’d achieve. A third generation coastie, Skylar had been around the sea her entire life, fascinated by its mysteries, astonished by its paradoxical sense of danger and calm. She’d always known she’d follow in her father’s and grandfather’s footsteps. She just hadn’t exactly wanted to follow those legendary footsteps back to the jagged shores along her hometown.

  Being stationed here meant that everyone would naturally assume she’d gotten this far this fast because of her family name...that her father or grandfather had had some influence over her unusually speedy career advancement. Nothing could be further from the truth. She’d busted her ass at the academy for four years, working harder than everyone else, putting in extra time and excelling in her courses. Then she’d worked alongside the experienced crew of the North Star cutter on the East Coast for two years, gaining her on-sea requirements to write the captain’s exam. And she’d aced it.

  But maybe her last name had helped a little in securing the competitive spot at the academy in the first place...

  Nope. She squared her shoulders and gripped the steering wheel tighter as she fought against the self-doubt. She’d been accepted into the highly competitive program based on her transcripts, her letters of recommendation (not from anyone with her last name) and her own application letter. She’d earned her spot.

  Still, expectations were high and she had a lot to prove.

  She was there now and until she could request a transfer or apply for a new position, she’d have to make the best of it.

  Pulling off the highway, she drove along Main Street, which cut through the center of town. It was just after nine, and the shops were flipping their Closed signs to Open. Tourist season hadn’t officially launched yet, but in the coming weeks, as the late spring weather turned milder, the town’s population would explode, nearly tripling with visitors. By summer, all the local inns would be full and the outdoor restaurant patios would be a constant flutter of laughter and loud music. The marina and beach would be hotspots for families, fishermen and water sport enthusiasts.

  Skylar scanned the familiar surroundings as she drove. She’d lived in Port Serenity her entire life. She’d loved it there as a child, especially during tourist season. She craved the bustle and all the strange, exciting faces of visitors flocking there for the chance to see Sealena for themselves. A glimpse of the serpent sea witch was a rare occurrence indeed, but not an impossibility according to the old fishermen who were happy to recount their tall tales to anyone willing to listen, encouraging tourists to pay an outrageous price to get out on the water for the search themselves. It had been fun to see the renewed excitement on people’s faces as tourists arrived in Port Serenity for the first time.

  Unfortunately, that excitement seemed to dull over the years as Skylar had learned what this popularity had cost the town. As she’d realized that Port Serenity really only belonged to one family: the Wakefields. Their name adorned almost every awning on the main street. Wakefields’ Pharmacy, Wakefields’ Convenience and Grocery, Wakefields’ Outpost and Fishing Supply... The wealthy Wakefields had reinvented the town and in doing so, they basically owned it. It was no secret that the mayor consulted the family patriarch, Brian Wakefield, on every major decision.

  And no one opposed. Everyone appreciated the security the Wakefields’ businesses had provided when the fishing industry had struggled to support families. The influx of tourists meant every local had a way to make a living. Like her cousin Carly, who ran the bookstore and local museum. Restaurants, inns, cafes and gift shops capitalized on the sea witch’s popularity and likeness, making enough during tourist season to keep afloat all year. It was hard to fault the Wakefields.

  Unless of course you were a Beaumont.

  Skylar’s own family had been generations of civil servants, protecting the community they loved. Her great-great-grandfather, Castor Beaumont, had been a state trooper. It was rumored that he’d been responsible for arresting Earl Wakefield, his former childhood friend, on smuggling charges. The man had done time for bringing contraband into Alaska through Port Serenity; the town had been divided and the family feud between the Wakefields and Beaumonts had begun.

  Small towns held long grudges.

  As she turned the corner at the end of Main Street and the ocean came into view, her chest tightened. It felt as though things had frozen in time the day she left. The scene unfolding was eerily familiar. A father and his daughter stood on the water’s edge skipping rocks along the surface. An older woman sat on a graffiti-tagged concrete bench wearing a pensive expression as she stared at the waves and the sun rising over the horizon. A young couple strolled along the wooden pier, hand in hand, a young puppy excitedly walking ahead with a stick in its mouth. Farther down, a seniors’ group did sunrise yoga on the sandy area of the small beach and several fishermen enjoyed a morning beer on the docks with their fishing poles doing the work along the shore.

  On the other side of Marina Way, there were boarded-up beach huts that would open in the hotter summer months, selling ice cream, refreshments, swim gear and overpriced Sealena-themed souvenirs. Among them was a small hut that advertised adventure whale watching tours, bird island excursions and trips to the ice fields in winter.

  In the distance, there was a small research cabin that housed the Marine Life Sanctuary and beyond that, a lighthouse stood high on the hill above. Sailboats and power boats lined the coastline below.

  Everything looked exactly the same as the day she’d left.

  Though her pulse raced as she approached the marina and the nondescript coast guard station, her heart swelled with pride at the sight of the Starlight docked there. With its deep V, double chine hull and all-aluminum construction, the forty-five-foot response boat was designed for speed and stability in various weather conditions. Twin diesel engines with waterjet propulsion eliminated the need for propellers under the boat, making it safer in missions where they needed to rescue a person overboard. Combined with its self-righting capability to help with capsizing in rough seas, it had greater speed and maneuverability than the older vessels. The boat was the one thing she had total confidence in. And she would be in charge of it and a crew of five.

  The crew was the tougher part. She was determined to gain their trust and respect. She was eager to show that she was one of them but also maintain a professional distance. Her father and grandfather made it look so easy, but she knew this would be her hardest challenge, to command a crew of familiar faces. People she’d grown up with, people who remembered her as the little girl who’d wear her father’s too-big captain hat as she sat in the captain’s chair in the pilothouse.

  Did that hat finally fit now?

  Weaving the rental car along the winding road, and seeing the familiar Wakefield family yacht docked in the marina, her heart pounded. The fifty-footer had always been the most impressive boat in the marina, even now that it was over thirty years old. Its owner, Kurt Wakefield, had lived on the yacht for twenty-five years.

  Kurt had died the year before. Skylar peered through the windshield to look at it. Had someone else bought the boat? Large bumpers had been added to the exterior, and pull lines could be seen on deck. She frowned. Had it been turned into some sort of rescue boat?

  It wasn’t unusual for civilians to aid in searches along the coast when requested, but the yacht was definitely an odd addition. There had never been a Wakefield who had shown interest in civil service to the community...except one.

  The man standing on the upper deck now, pulling the lines. Wearing a pair of faded jeans and just a T-shirt, the muscles in his shoulders and back strained as he worked and Skylar’s mouth went dry. She slowed the vehicle, unable to look away. Almost as if in slow motion, the man turned and their eyes met. Her breath caught as familiarity registered in his expression.