Snowy Mountain Nights (18 page)

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Authors: Lindsay Evans

BOOK: Snowy Mountain Nights
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The feelings she had for him rolled over her like a tidal wave, undeniable. And she thought she'd have to convince him to give her another chance, but all the while... She picked up the necklace.

“All this time?” Her voice shook.

“Yes.” The truth of his love poured from his eyes.

Reyna allowed herself to look past his habitual reserve and see the fires in him that burned hotter than any she'd ever known.

He kissed the corners of her mouth, enveloping her with the scent of him, and of the two of them together. “All this time I've loved you, and you've only fought me, trying to get away to your lonely island.”

“No. Never. I was just afraid of...of being hurt again.” She wouldn't have been able to stand it if the thing she thought she had, unconditional and lasting love, turned out to be smoke and ashes. She did love him. Had loved him from the first. But she hadn't wanted to.

“There are few guarantees in life,” he said.

“I know.”

“But there
are
promises.” He took her hand and placed it tenderly against his chest. “And there is this.” His heart thundered beneath her hand. She closed her eyes and could swear she felt the rhythm of it in her own body. “I love you, Reyna Allen. I promise to be the best possible man I can be for you. Is that all right?”

“Yes,” she said, breathless, tears falling. He kissed her wet cheeks and smiled when even more tears came. She laughed, throwing her arms around him. “It's more than all right with me.”

Epilogue

R
eyna slipped on her suit jacket and headed down the hall toward the elevator. She'd barely taken half a dozen steps, her high heels sinking into the thin carpet, before her cell phone rang. She smiled at the name and photo that popped up on the screen.

“Hi, love.”

“Reyna.”

Her hand reflexively tightened around the leather handle of her briefcase. Even after a year together, the way Garrison said her name still made her melt.

“I hope you left the office already,” he said. “We're waiting for you at the restaurant.” He sounded wonderfully relaxed. In the background, she could hear the sound of traffic, a car honking, as if he'd stepped away from the table to call her. “I didn't stop being a workaholic just for you to pick up my bad habits.”

“No, never that.” She laughed, shaking her head in denial, although he obviously couldn't see her. “A few last-minute things came up that I had to take care of.”

Getting the job—complete with an office—at a downtown ad agency not far from where Garrison worked was a dream come true. The job had come on her own merit, and they worked her hard enough that she no longer thought of the position as a gift. Still, it was one of the most rewarding things she'd ever done.

“That's how it starts,” Garrison teased. “And I would know.”

“Yes,” she murmured, picturing the curve of his smiling mouth. “You would.”

Not long after they had made things official between them, Garrison started working less, wrapping up his workdays by six or seven in the evening, taking time to himself and actually relaxing for a change. He even made a spontaneous trip down to Florida to see Wolfe instead of being holed up in his admittedly beautiful study on a weekend when Reyna had to work.

One afternoon, while they lay on blankets on her living room floor, listening to music and basking in the sun, Garrison turned to her with mild surprise. “I forgot how good it feels to just do nothing,” he said. Reyna laughed and pressed a kiss to his beautiful mouth. A week later, his secretary sent her a thank-you card.

“I'm leaving the office now.” Reyna pressed the elevator button for the lobby. “I'll be there in—” she looked at her watch “—about thirty minutes if the train isn't acting up.”

“Good. See you soon.”

When she got to The Beautiful Feast about twenty-five minutes later, Vivian, the owner, greeted her with a warm smile at the door of the restaurant and waved her toward the private back room. The door was open, and she could hear the quiet conversations and laughter of her family and friends.

She stood in the doorway, watching them—Garrison talking gravely with her father while her mother showed something to Garrison's mother, Marian, on her smartphone. Louisa, Bridget and Marceline were all gathered around Wolfe, subtly vying for his attention. Her father saw her first.

“I'm impressed.” He greeted her with a kiss and a teasing smile. “You're actually early. You must really think he's something special.” He jerked his bearded chin toward Garrison.

Reyna turned her blushing face away to kiss Garrison. He palmed her hot cheek then gave her that small and intimate smile he reserved just for her. “The feeling is mutual, Mr. Allen.” His warm breath brushed her throat, and she shivered in response, sliding her arms around his waist and inhaling his sensual, clean scent.

“Give the rest of us a chance,” Wolfe said with a laugh.

When it was his turn, he enveloped Reyna in a warm hug. “Good to see you again, beautiful.” He gave her that teasing once-over that made her shake her head before slipping neatly from his arms.

Marian Richards, whom Reyna had only spoken with a handful of times on the phone, stood up. “I finally get to meet the woman who captured my son's heart.” Fine lines radiated from the corners of her expressive eyes when she smiled. She was as sensually attractive as her son, but her casual elegance—high heels, dark jeans and a white blazer—surprised Reyna. From what Garrison told her, she'd expected a bohemian in bright earrings and hemp harem pants.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Richards.” Reyna squeezed her extra tightly in thankfulness for the man she had raised her son to be.

“I already told you to call me Marian. The only Ms. Richards I know has a tombstone over her head in Tampa somewhere.” Her smile took the sting from her words.

“Marian.” Reyna squeezed her hands before slipping around the table to greet her mother.

“Baby, you look very Olivia Pope in that suit.” Her mother named a character from a popular TV show she was obsessed with.

Reyna glanced down at her maroon skirt suit and black heels. “I thought she only wore white?”

Her mother shrugged. “That outfit is gorgeous and take-charge, and my baby is beautiful. Ergo, Olivia Pope.”

Her father chuckled and gazed fondly at his wife. “She's just not used to seeing you in anything other than jeans. She's right, though, you look like a billion bucks.”

Her father, a lover of word games of all sorts, was fond of hyperbole.

“Thanks, Daddy.” Before her mother could say anything, she leaned over and kissed her powdered cheek. “You, too, Mama.”

She quickly greeted her friends with hugs then started toward the chair Garrison was saving for her. Bridget grabbed her hand en route. “Girl! You didn't tell me that Wolfe was so fine.”

Reyna laughed. “I think he's taken.”

“That's not what
he
said.” Bridget raised a mischievous eyebrow, making plain her objective for the rest of the night. But Marceline, in her tight white dress, looked ready to give her some competition.

Garrison stood up and cleared his throat as Reyna sat next to him. There was an unfamiliar nervousness to him, an almost manic energy. “Thank you, everyone, for making the trek all the way here.”

“Anything for you, honey.” His mother smiled.

Garrison nodded and visibly pulled himself together. “I've already asked Reyna to marry me.”

A collectively indrawn breath, Reyna's included, filled the room. She didn't think he would announce it quite like
this
. Her friends knew, but not their parents.

“She's accepted my proposal,” Garrison continued, his voice falling into the commanding, I-
will
-get-my-way cadence he used at the office. He was nervous.

Reyna smiled and touched the engagement ring she wore on the chain with the Adinkra love charm he'd given her a year ago.

“Even though she hasn't said anything, I know she's still concerned about commitment.” He glanced briefly at her, gifting her with that smile of his again. “So I invited you all here, the people we both love and trust, to pledge in front of you to always love this woman and always treat her heart as if it were my own. Fifty years, at least. That's what I asked her for, and that's what I'm telling you now.”

Tears burned Reyna's eyes. She already knew their commitment was stronger than anything she'd had before—they spoke of a future together, of children, of the depth of their love for each other—but it humbled her that he wanted to make absolutely certain she trusted in the permanence of them.

“Wouldn't it be simpler to just marry her and make the same promise in front of God and everyone else?” Bridget pursed her lips.

“God is not going to drag him through Central Park and beat him with spiked Louboutins if he doesn't treat Reyna right,” Louisa said with her martini glass raised to her lips. “But I will.”

The parents stared at her.

“Exactly.” Garrison winced. “But as you can imagine, I'm betting it won't come to that.” He cleared his throat again. “And in any case, I will make that pledge to her in the church, but I want her to know my intentions before we get to that point.” He touched Reyna's hand and met her eyes. “You're never getting rid of me,” he said.

The tears she had been holding back spilled down her cheeks. “Why do you always make me cry?”

“I'm not sure this is a good start to forever, Garrison,” his mother teased. But she was wiping away tears of her own.

Garrison cursed and jumped to his feet. His chair fell back and clattered to the ground. “I don't want you to cry, Reyna...” He enfolded her in a warm embrace. She burrowed into his body and clung, weeping.

“Let her get it out,” she heard her mother say from her cocoon in Garrison's arms. “I haven't seen her cry like this since she was a child. Let her feel the sweet ache of loving you.”

Reyna gasped on a sob. The feeling was almost too much. Her heart felt as if it was about to burst out of her chest.

“I feel like such an idiot for tearing up like this.” She sniffed into his shirtfront and clung to the lapels of his blazer.

“But you're
my
idiot.” He smiled against her cheek.

The door creaked open. “I thought this was supposed to be a celebration?” Vivian stood in the doorway with an open bottle of champagne and ten empty glasses. She was smiling.

“Congratulations, honey.” Vivian put a warm hand on her back as she passed to distribute the champagne. “You found yourself a good one.”

Reyna drew back to gaze into Garrison's smiling face. Her heart turned over in her chest and lay down completely for him. “I know.”

* * * * *

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