Сьюзен Мэллери - Summer Nights

“I know.” He sat up. “You’re hurt. I hurt you, Annabelle, and I’m sorry.”

She glanced around, aware of several hundred people watching them. “It’s okay. We can talk about it later.”

“I think we should talk about it now.” One corner of his mouth twitched. “Then you can cut out my heart.”

“Shane,” she began, but he shook his head.

“No, me first.” He scrambled to his feet. “I know you’re nothing like my ex-wife. I know you’re good and kind and caring and loyal. I like everything about you, Annabelle Weiss. More than that, I love you. I’m sorry it took me so long to figure that out, but I did and I’m standing here to say I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and our baby.”

She heard the hum of conversation. But all that mattered was staring into Shane’s eyes and seeing the truth of his words in his beautiful eyes.

The pain inside of her faded until only happiness was left. Happiness and the promise of all that would be.

“You’re telling me this now? Here?”

“Sure. The festival is important to you and you’re important to me. I figured you’d appreciate a big finish.” He cupped her face in his hands. “Marry me. Not because it’s the right thing, or because of the baby, but because you love me.”

“I do love you,” she whispered.

“Good. Because I want to spend the rest of my life taking care of you, supporting you, being your partner and husband. I have my flaws and I’ll work on them, but once I commit, I don’t give up easily.”

Tears filled her eyes. Tears of joy and promise.

“I’ll marry you,” she murmured.

A cheer went up from the crowd. Confused, she started to turn, but before she could, Khatar leaned in and nudged her from behind. She fell into Shane’s arms. He caught her and kissed her.

There was another cheer and yells that they should all be invited to the wedding.

Annabelle got lost in Shane’s kiss for a second, then drew back and looked around. “I forgot about the microphone.”

“I didn’t.” He kissed her again, then grinned. “I wanted to prove to you I meant what I said. Now we have witnesses and if I don’t treat you right, the whole town will get on my butt. That should make you happy.”

“You make me happy,” she said, leaning in and kissing him again.

He pulled her close, then murmured, “I think they’re going to want us to reenact this every year. Game?”

“With you? Always.”

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt of Barefoot Season by Susan Mallery!

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One

“I’m going off to war tomorrow. I might not make it back.”

Michelle Sanderson slowly pulled her attention from the five-year-old truck she was thinking of buying and focused it on the guy standing next to her.

He was a kid—maybe eighteen or nineteen, with red hair and freckles. Cute enough but way too young. Still stuck with too-long arms and legs and a chest that had yet to fill out. More man than boy, she supposed, but not yet done with the transition.

“I’m sorry,” she said, sure she must have misunderstood. “What did you say?”

He gave her a wide grin and a wink. “I may not have long in this life. After you buy the truck, we could go get a drink or something. Celebrate me going into the army.”

“It’s two in the afternoon.”

“Then we could head back to my place.”

Michelle didn’t know whether she should start laughing or tell him he was an idiot in terms that would make him cry like a little girl. The latter would be easy enough. She’d served ten years in the army, nearly half of them in either Iraq or Afghanistan. She’d had to deal with more than her share of horny young guys who assumed they were irresistible. She’d gotten really good at showing them they were wrong.

Laughing would be a bit tougher. Mostly because every part of her hurt. Not just her hip, which had the excuse of a recent run-in with a couple of bullets from armed insurgents, followed by a partial joint replacement, but the rest of her. She’d spent more time than she even wanted to think about in the hospital. Healing happened in its own time, her physical therapist had told her. She’d tried to beat the odds, which had netted her nothing more than an extra three nights in the hospital before she’d finally been released.

“Aren’t I a little old for you?” she asked.

He gave her a wink. “Experienced.”

Despite the pain, she managed a chuckle. “Yeah, right. Looking to have your fantasies fulfilled?”

“You know it.”

He was so eager, she thought, feeling more weary by the second. And obviously he hadn’t passed the vision test yet. She knew she wasn’t at her best. Her pale, too-thin body gave away the length of time she’d been in a hospital bed. Her eyes were hollow, her color too gray to be considered normal. She had a cane to help her walk. Which just went to show how powerful a young man’s hormones could be.

Before she could figure out how to pass on his invitation, a yellow Lab came bounding around the side of the house. The animal raced up to her and jumped. Michelle took a quick step back to avoid being knocked over. The movement put pressure on her hip and fiery pain shot through her.

For a second, the world spun. She felt herself starting to black out. Nausea threatened. One or the other, she thought desperately, fighting to stay present. Not both. A surprisingly strong arm wrapped around her body, holding her in place.

“Buster, get down.”

She blinked and the cool, damp afternoon returned to focus. The fire in her hip banked enough to allow her to breathe. The kid stood so close she could see the freckles across his nose and a small scar on his right cheek.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded.

He stepped back and studied her. The dog stayed back, his eyes dark with worry, a low whine indicating his concern.

She held out her hand to the dog. “It’s okay, Buster. I’m fine.”

The dog stepped forward and sniffed her fingers before giving them a quick lick.

“Hey, I wanted to do that,” the kid said, managing a shaky laugh.

Michelle smiled. “Sorry. He’s more my type.”

“You’re hurt.”

She raised the cane slightly. “Did you think this was a fashion accessory?”

“I didn’t notice it, really.”

Which proved her theory about his poor vision. “Just a flesh wound.” Actually flesh, bone and a few tendons, but why get into the details?

He looked from her to the army-issue duffels on the sidewalk, to the cane and then back into her eyes. “Were you there?” he asked.

“There” could have been a hundred places, but she knew what he meant. She nodded.

“Sweet. What was it like? Were you scared? Do you think…?” He swallowed, then flushed. “Can I make it, you think?”

She wanted to tell him no. That staying home, being with his friends, going to college, would be so much easier. Safer. More comfortable. But the easy way often wasn’t the best way, and for some, being a part of something meaningful was worth any price.

Her reasons for joining had been far less altruistic, but over time she’d been molded into a soldier. The trick was going to be figuring out how to find her way back.

“You’ll be fine,” she said, hoping she was telling the truth.