Muriel Jensen - Love Me Forever

Something changed in her eyes. “What if I did? Could you take more of it?”

“Try it and let’s see.”

It took her forever to make the move. Then she finally put her hand to the side of his face.

He had to steel himself against a reaction.

Tonight, he was seeing another side to her. Even that resolve in her eyes seemed not about control, but about simple response. Her thumb ran lightly over his jawline, over his chin. The air left his lungs. Then she moved her hand so her index finger could explore his bottom lip. She leaned forward to plant a kiss there. Her lips were a millimeter from his, his parted and waiting for her… .

Dear Reader,

When I wrote Always Florence , my first Mills & Boon ®Heartwarming™ book, I hadn’t intended a connected book. I became invested in Sandy’s and Hunter’s futures, however, and hope you did, too. There had to be a way to unite a woman who is single-minded in pursuit of the life she wants for her daughters and herself, and a man who has enormous personal and financial problems to solve and just wants to be left alone.

I think I found it.

Happy Spring!

Muriel

Love Me Forever

Muriel Jensen

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MURIEL JENSENlives with her husband, Ron, in an old foursquare Victorian looking down on the Columbia River in Astoria, Oregon. They share their home with Cheyenne, a neurotic husky mix, and a tabby horde (there are only two, but they come in screaming, and she imagines them wearing armor and wielding swords as they eat everything in sight and take hostages for evening TV watching).

They have three children, eight grandchildren, four great-grandchildren, and a collection of the most interesting and generous friends and neighbors. They feel truly blessed!

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To Adalyn Saysong Deth,

Tommy and Zoey Erickson,

and to Ashley

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER ONE

SANDY EVANS FELT DESERTED. The man she loved stood with his broad back to her, his rejection undeniable. Her mother thought she was insane, and her best friend had told her it was just wrong to offer Hunter Bristol thirty thousand dollars to marry her. “He’ll throw it back at you,” Bobbie Raleigh had warned.

Marriage wasn’t the point of the money offer, but—to be honest—she’d have loved it to be the ultimate outcome. So she’d ignored her mother and her best friend, and handed Hunter Bristol a check in that amount. His initial reaction was not promising. White shirt stretched across shoulders that were square and muscular, he’d been silent for about a minute, one hand jammed in the pocket of his gray slacks, the other holding the check between his thumb and forefinger as though it had been smeared with Ebola.

He turned around finally, and she knew Bobbie had been right. Sandy was about to have the check thrown back in her face.

Hunter Bristol was tall and athletic, a man built for action despite having the methodical, meticulous brain of a Certified Public Accountant. His light blue eyes radiated fury and his blond hair, a little too long and roughly styled, almost bristled with his effort to maintain some sort of control. Beyond the glass walls of his office, coworkers glanced their way, obviously wondering what was going on, though they pretended to look busy.

He waved the check at her and demanded, his voice just above a whisper, “Where did you get this kind of money?”

Suddenly tired of everyone’s displeasure when all she’d meant to do was ease Hunter’s financial problems, she folded her arms and stared boldly into his thunderous face. “I rolled an old lady for it,” she said.

He took a step toward her, then apparently thought better of whatever he’d intended and stopped. He glimpsed the outer office and saw that his employer, Nate Raleigh, her friend Bobbie’s husband, had come out of his office to talk to Jonni, his office manager, who sat at the front desk. But Hunter appeared to have more of Nate’s attention than Jonni did.

“You’re lucky,” Hunter said, leaning back against a dark wood work table, “that you’ve got so many witnesses. You want to try that again?”

She closed her eyes with a sigh and perched on his desk, a patch of carpet separating them. “I refinanced the house,” she admitted, attempting to sound reasonable. “You’re my friend. I’d like to help you get out of debt so we can...you know...be more.”

“Sandy!” His temper flared beyond his control despite their audience, and he flung his arms out to his sides in complete exasperation. “Are you totally deaf? We’ve had this discussion how many times in the months we’ve been going out? You will not pay my debts! I will not accept one dime from you.”

“It’s not out of my monthly income. This is—”

“No. No money from you. Ever.”

“Hunter,” she continued serenely, “it’s not as though you gambled away your money or spent it on women and alcohol. Someone you trusted embezzled from you! This self-imposed penance is unnecessary. Let me help you pay your creditors.”

He caught her wrist, pulled his office door open, and drew her after him toward the front door. Nate intercepted them, looking worried.

Nate was a bit taller than Hunter but leaner. The two had been good friends since Nate had moved to Astoria almost a year ago. Hunter had worked for Nate’s brother Ben. When Ben and his wife died in a boating accident, Nate, in charge of Raleigh and Raleigh’s Portland office, came to take over the Astoria branch and care for Ben’s two young boys. Hunter and Nate had grown close as Nate adjusted to life in Astoria.

Nate glanced from Hunter to Sandy. “Where are you going?”

Hunter rolled his eyes. “We’re going to sit in her car,” he said calmly, “where we might have a little privacy. I am tempted to kill her, but you know I won’t, so no need to be concerned.”

Nate considered a moment, then asked Sandy with a small smile, “Do you want him sitting in your car? I can call his mother, you know.”

Sandy had to smile back. Hunter’s mother was Nate’s housekeeper and nanny. “I feel perfectly safe,” she assured him, telling Hunter with a glance that she really did. His attempts to intimidate weren’t working. Well, they were, but he didn’t have to know that.

Nate stood aside. “All right, then,” he said. “Remember you have a client in ten minutes, Hunt.”

Hunter ignored him and drew Sandy out into the gray morning. May in Astoria, Oregon, on the northwest coast, did not guarantee springlike weather. The smell of imminent rain hung in the air.

“I’m parked around the corner.” She pointed in that direction, then dramatically favored the elbow he held. “I’ll need this at a later date, you realize. I carry Addie in this arm. I mix cookie batter, I scrub the bathtub, I...”