Jill Shalvis: Long-Lost Mom

Off guard, she still just stared at him. “Are you…asking me to marry you?”

“Yes, I am.” A grin tugged at his lips. “You sound so shocked. Is it that big of a surprise?”

“No. No, it’s just that I…” More tears, unstoppable this time. “I’d hoped,” she managed before flinging her arms around his neck. “Oh, Stone, how I’d hoped.”

“Is that a yes? You want to be mine?”

He asked so solemnly it brought fresh tears. “Yes,” she whispered. She’d never felt so right anywhere else as she did in his arms. The pure sense of sweet homecoming made it difficult to speak. “Yes to everything. But as for being yours, I already am. Forever.”

“Wow! Mom! Come look quick! He did it again, I swear!”

Jenna, who, even after two years still thrilled to hearing Sara call her Mom, came running, for the little he in question could have done anything from throwing up his carrots on the den rug-again-to eating the dog food.

Unfortunately Chase Cameron, ten-month-old tyrant of the household, had already learned that people took one look at his pudgy adorable self and turned to mush.

Jenna skidded into the room as fast as her eight-month pregnant body would allow. She eyed her son first, taking in the cherubic expression, the light blue eyes and dark curls almost too pretty to be wasted on a boy. “Did he tear up your book report again?” she asked Sara.

“Ah…no, but hey, that was a good one. I should have saved that excuse,” her daughter admitted.

“You haven’t even started it yet, have you?” Jenna sighed. “You’re supposed to be-”

“I know, I know.” Sara straightened, and in a perfect mimic of Jenna’s voice said starchly, “Studying. It’s the concrete paving the walk to my future.”

“Well it is ,” Jenna insisted, with a laugh.

“I know, Mom,” Sara moaned, dragging the last word out.

Sara seemed to think she knew a lot lately, something that Jenna and Stone attributed to her new teen status. They considered themselves lucky they’d gotten married, settled in Stone’s house and had the baby before facing the new challenge of living with a twelve-year-old.

“Watch,” Sara commanded. Turning to the toddler in her lap, she smiled down at him as he happily chewed on his fist. At the sight of Jenna, Chase shot her a slow crooked toothless grin that reminded her very much of Stone. She sighed in contentment.

“Chase! Pay attention now,” Sara admonished, ruining it by kissing him sloppily on the cheek. Reaching around her brother, she picked up her basketball, which had suspicious-looking drool marks on it, and set it in Chase’s lap. “Do it again,” she urged, their two dark heads bending in concentration over the ball. “Show Momma.”

Watching Sara lavish attention on Chase brought a lump of pure joy to Jenna’s throat. Then strong warm arms wrapped around her from behind, and with a watery smile, Jenna leaned back into them.

“She’s so good with him,” she murmured.

“And you’re so good with both of them.” Slipping his hands around to support her bulging belly, Stone kissed Jenna, chuckling when, beneath his hands, the next Cameron baby stirred and kicked. “Ready for yet another, Mrs. Cameron?”

“Who would have thought?” she whispered dreamily, watching Chase lean forward to gum Sara’s ball with his very wet mouth, much to his older sister’s disgust. “Who would have thought I’d be a mom to two-point-five kids, a driver in the carpool and live in a perfect house with a white picket fence-”

“It’s not white.”

“-and be this happy,” she finished on a sigh of contentment.

Stone stilled, then hugged her fiercely, careful to take care with the unborn baby. “Any regrets?”

Before them, on the rug, Sara took the ball away from her brother, turned him in her arms and hugged him with the same fierce love that Stone was hugging Jenna.

Jenna’s heart squeezed tight with love, and in Stone’s arms, she turned to face him.

She kissed him with all her heart, then cupped his face, pulling back so she could see into his eyes. “No regrets. I have everything I ever dreamed about, all because of you.”

“Nothing missing?”

“Weeell…” She’d caught the teasing light in his eye, and knew he was referring to the way her hormones had reacted to this pregnancy.

With an eager grin she pulled him closer so she could whisper in his ear, telling him what was missing and exactly how he could fix it.

“Shame on you, Mrs. Cameron,” he whispered in mock shock. A wicked gleam lit his face. “But let’s hurry and put everyone to bed so I can help you out with that, er, particular need.”

She laughed, and they both raced into the den.

When pressed for an answer on why she writes romance, Jill Shalvis just smiles and says she didn’t realize there was anything else. She’s written over a dozen novels so far, and doesn’t plan on stopping. She lives in California, in a house filled with young children, too many animals and her hero/husband.