Laughing, he stroked her cheek.
“It is for me.” Then he reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out her phone. “Check your messages.”
Brynn stared at the device, baffled as to why he would be handing it to her.
But then he thumbed it to life, and she saw the Facebook alerts.
First, Ford Meyers had accepted her friend request.
And second—she looked up at Ford, her brow arching even as a grin pushed hard at her lips. “Facebook wants to confirm that we are ‘in a relationship.’ ”
“Are we?” he asked, leaning down to kiss the side of her neck, slow and wet. “Say yes, Brynn. Please.”
Her heartbeat accelerated as he lingered there, teasing the sensitive skin with his lips, tongue, and teeth. “Ford, you act like—oh God—like you’re trying to convince me instead of me trying to convince you.”
Another decadent scrape of his teeth and she gasped, clutching at his shoulders.
“I had every intention of trying to convince you. I had a plan and everything.” He licked at the shell of her ear.
“A plan?”
“I was going to seduce you.” His big hands ran down the sides of her body, riding the cut of her waist and then flaring at the swell of her hips, his thumbs brushing over those little sensitive bones that jutted slightly. “Wear you down any way I could. I need you to give me another chance, and I wasn’t going to play fair to get it.”
At that she pulled her head back. “Me give you another chance?”
He bowed his head to hers. “I was so angry, so scared, Brynn. And it made me so fucking stupid. You are the only woman I’ve ever loved. The only one I’ve ever completely wanted. And when I finally, finally had the chance to really have you—I threw it away in a fucking tantrum.”
She tried to tell him no, that he had every right to how he felt that night. That she’d lied to him. Betrayed his trust again and again. Shown him that when the chips were down, her instinct was to leave. Even if it was meant to protect him. Only her throat was too tight for words, and all she could do was press her hand over his heart and shake her head.
“Brynn, I wanted to take it back. To beg you for another chance, weeks ago. To tell you how sorry I was. But then you moved out of your apartment and I thought you’d taken the job in Boston. That maybe I should let you go.”
Oh and the way he said those last words, like he could barely choke them out. “But that changed when you realized I was still here?”
He let out a humorless laugh. “Not quite. I tried to let you move on, but every day the not-being-with-you was worse. Then last night I cracked. I couldn’t go another day without trying to win you back.”
“What were you going to do?”
Again going for his phone, he pulled up an email confirmation for a ticket to the TNT game she was scheduled to work in two nights’ time in Philadelphia. With a seat about a foot and half from where she’d be standing.
“How did you get this ticket?” No one could score this ticket.
“I told you before, I’m a resourceful guy with a lot of drive when it comes to getting what I want. And I want another shot with you. Only this time, I swear I won’t let anything come between us again. I can’t lose you, Brynn. I love you.”
And then he was kissing her again, growling against her mouth how much he loved her, how bad he’d missed her. How he’d never let her go. She was breathless, pulling at his shirt, hooking her knee around his thigh and rocking into—
Knock, knock, knock.
Brynn stilled, her eyes going wide.
The pub.
She’d completely forgotten where they were and hadn’t even realized—wait—how had they ended up in the stockroom?
Ford was grinning at her. “Lose track again?”
“How long have we been in here?” she whispered, horror mixing with her joy and somehow bubbling out of her chest as laughter.
“I have—no, wait, the Facebook notification.” Ford grabbed his phone, and then made a face. “It doesn’t matter.”
“What?” she squeaked.
But then Ford was taking her hand in his, threading their fingers together and pulling her back into his chest so he could smile down into her face.
“All that matters is this. That whatever happens, I’ll be there with you.”
And like that, it was better. She grinned and pushed to her toes so he’d kiss her. It was quick and sweet and not nearly enough, but there would be more later. When her shift was done and they were alone and the future she’d finally dared to wish for was laid out ahead of them.
Another knock sounded, and Ford swung the door open. “I should have known.”
Ava was standing there, her arms crossed, toes tapping and a smug, satisfied grin on her face. And an apron tied around her waist?
“Sorry—okay, not totally sorry, but the manager was getting a little twitchy. Even with me pouring on my considerable charm.” She turned to Brynn. “So do you love him?”
Brynn smiled, near bursting with the joy of it. “I do.”
“Finally, a sister!” Slender arms flung around her, and Brynn’s breath rushed out as Ava squealed, “And you already owe me big, because I just picked up your shift for you. We are going to be best friends. I can totally tell you don’t suck.”
Brynn laughed, her heart lightening more and more—until Ford pulled her back into his chest, wrapping his arms around her in a possessive hold that felt too good.
“Easy, Ava, don’t run her off before I have a chance to make it official.”
The laughter stopped and Brynn looked over her shoulder, expecting Ford to be making some silly face. Only what she saw wasn’t joking at all. Ford was staring at his little sister, dead serious.
Turning his attention back to her, his features softened. “Scared?”
Brynn searched deep within for the answer, and when she found it, she gave him the unfettered truth. “Not even a little. I love you. And I’m in.”
Epilogue
“Okay, guys, you both know the rules,” Ava stated, making eye contact with Ford first and then Sam—whom she winked at and gave one of those not-so-subtle smiles Ford still hadn’t gotten used to. “This is going to be a clean competition. Shoving, cursing at, or sabotaging your opponent are grounds for immediate disqualification. Your supplies have been checked by Brynn and myself, your bragging rights are on the line, so are you ready?”
Sam was bouncing from foot to foot, nodding vigorously. “Yes. Start, please.”
And shi—shoot, Ford couldn’t agree more. “Let’s go, let’s go.”
Brynn, sporting a very sexy Hibachi Cannonball T-shirt, let out a soft chuckle from her Lay-Z-Boy, the one piece of furniture she’d brought with her when she moved into his place two and a half years ago. “You got this, sweetie.”
She was grinning at him, her eyes sparkling with amusement. Gone were the shadows that had haunted their Irish depths for so long.
For two years, Danny had stayed out of trouble. O’Shea had kept up his end of the agreement, keeping the man employed and earning an honest wage. And with the temptation removed, the only path in front of him one that ran straight and narrow, Danny Ahearne had found some peace in his life. A year after Brynn had become Ford’s wife in a halftime ceremony conducted center court in the United Center, Danny had shown up at their door with a check to begin paying his daughter back the money he’d taken from her. He’d apologized quietly, without excuses and without expectation. When it was done, he’d invited the two of them to come up to Milwaukee for dinner the following week, if they were interested.
They’d been driving up once a month after that until one Saturday the phone rang. It was Brynn’s mom telling them Danny had suffered a heart attack in his sleep. He was gone.
Brynn cried herself to sleep in Ford’s arms that night, devastated but grateful for the pain that was so much worse because of how far she and her father had come in rebuilding their relationship. A few mont
hs later, O’Shea attracted the attention of the wrong people and found himself brought up on charges of racketeering. He wasn’t expected to see the outside of a cell again for a very long time.
The morning the report came out, they’d been reading the news over a microwave burrito. When Ford asked if she was relieved, she’d thought briefly and then answered, “I’m glad he got what he deserved, but I stopped worrying about Timothy a long time ago. Even if he’d tried to get back in our lives, we’d have handled it together.”
Christ, he loved her.
“Good luck,” she said then, pulling him back to competition at hand.
Ava pointed her finger at her husband and gave him a stern look. “Don’t let us down.”
Sam’s look was more pleading. “Start already.”
“Get ready…”
Ford and Sam both got down on one knee.
“Get set…”
Ford tenderly laid four-month-old Gracie Jordan Meyers down on her Bulls-embroidered changing pad, giving her sweet baby belly a rub with the back of his knuckle. She was so soft. So sweet. So much her mommy’s little girl, sometimes he couldn’t look at her without getting that too full feeling in his chest he’d learned about with Brynn.
Gracie’s legs kicked in the air.
And good God, his precious daughter stank.
“We got this, Gracie girl. You and me.”
Cutting a look at his competition, he saw Sam had the Y-chromosome portion of his brood, five-month-old Benjamin Meyers Farrow, ready to go. Only Benjamin was working this little reverse donkey kick he’d picked up in the last few weeks. That move pretty well evened out the one-month advantage and the BOGO baby status Sam had on him.
With a final word—“Change!”—the competition was on and the diapers were coming off.
Ford reached into the inside right pocket of Gracie’s diaper bag and grabbed her plushy basketball, being sure to fake her out at least twice before letting those chubby little swinging hands of hers get ahold of the toy she wouldn’t give up for the next hour.
Sam’s arm swirled around within the depths of his diaper bag, earning a tapping toe from Ava, who had Ben’s twin, little Hazel Elizabeth, snuffling softly on her shoulder.
Next thing the bag was upended, the contents strewn around the hardwood in front of him. But Sam had what he needed: the universal remote was tight within Benjamin’s grip, one thick end getting mauled by his toothless mouth.
Ford had Gracie’s feet snared.
Sam layered his fresh diaper beneath his son.
It was a four-baby-wipe job for Gracie and nine for Ben.
“Sam, your a-a-ahhh—your bum is so mine,” Ford gloated. Because no way was he losing when he was already securing his rolled-up dirty diaper.
“You wish, Meyers,” Sam sang in a gentle voice that made Ben offer him a lick of the remote.
Sam dodged it, with a quick “no thank you” to his son. Then he was muttering something about the tab sticking to itself and giving in to a quiet “Mother Trucker.”
The first tab on Gracie’s diaper was secure. Ford was about to score when her wriggling body stilled, her face went red, and then—Ford sighed, reaching for yet another diaper as Sam hoisted Ben up with him and took a slow motion victory lap around the living room, maneuvering his son’s pudgy arm in baby fist pumps. Sam leaned down for a longer-than-strictly-necessary kiss from his adoring wife, and Ford finished up, while Brynn promised she still loved him anyway.
It was a good day.
A few minutes later Maggie strolled in behind a racing Penelope, while Tyler—a guy who never seemed to stop smiling—brought up the rear, carrying a diaper bag, a purple glitter rolling bag with a few stuffed animal limbs poking out, and a pink miniature baby-doll high chair with a stuffed pig strapped into the seat.
“No way,” Maggie pouted. “We didn’t miss it, did we?”
Brynn pushed up on her toes and pulled Ford down for a conciliatory kiss on the cheek that went miles toward soothing his bruised ego. “Ford relinquished his title as the fastest diaper change in the Midwest just a few moments ago. Sam’s celebrating with some rice cereal for the twins in the kitchen. I’m sure he’d be happy to give you the highlights.”
The Wells family headed back for the blow-by-blow, while Brynn dropped onto the couch beside Ford, tucking herself beneath his free arm and smiling at their sleepy daughter.
It still astounded him how much love his arms could hold.
“Happy?” he asked her. He knew the answer already. He saw it in her eyes and her smile every day, felt it in the way she touched him, heard it in the sound of her voice. But he could never get enough of her answer.
Brynn burrowed her nose in his shirt and drew a long breath before pressing her hand to his heart. “Like I never dreamed I could be.”
If you enjoyed Now and Then and would like to be notified of Mira’s new releases, please sign up for her newsletter here: eepurl.com/A-XKr
To Kasie Thomas for the laughs, the three-hour lunches, and being the friend I’d be lost without.
A million thanks to all the people I couldn’t do this without, starting with my real-life friend and live sports camera operator, Kiera Fisher. Also to Sue Grimshaw and the Loveswept team, my super-agent Nicole Resciniti, my talk-me-down-from-the-ledge/chat-tastic/brainstorming buddies Lexi Ryan and Megan Mulry, the Now and Then beta readers Carrie, MJ, Amy, Mignon, and Jessica, and my wonderful husband and children. Most of all, thank you to my readers—I love you guys!! (((HUGS)))
BY MIRA LYN KELLY
Dare to Love
Truth or Dare
Touch & Go
Now and Then
Coming September 2016
The Best Men books
USA Today bestselling author MIRA LYN KELLY grew up in the Chicago area and earned her degree in Fine Arts from Loyola University. She met the love of her life while studying abroad in Rome, Italy, only to discover he’d been living right around the corner from her back home. Having spent her twenties working and playing in the Windy City, she’s now settled with her husband in rural Minnesota, where their four beautiful children provide an excess of action and entertainment. When she isn’t reading, writing, or running to keep up with the kids, she loves watching movies, blabbing with the girls, and cooking with her husband and friends.
miralynkelly.com
Facebook.com/MiraLynKelly.Author
Twitter.com/MiraLynKelly
Pinterest.com/miralynkelly
Newsletter sign up: eepurl.com/A-XKr
The Editor’s Corner
Bring in the New Year with a new romance from Loveswept—all are specially written with you in mind, so I know you’ll find a story that’s a perfect fit.
Elisabeth Barrett returns to Briarwood, an unforgettable place where legacy and longing make dreams come true, in The Best of Me. USA Today bestselling author Jamie K. Schmidt follows with the first book in her new Hawaii Heat series, Life’s a Beach, an irresistible tale of second chances. The bad boys of baseball only get better with Katie Rose’s fourth book in the Boys of Summer series, The Heat Is On, where a homegrown baseball star returns to snag the one that got away. USA Today bestselling author Mira Lyn Kelly finishes her Dare to Love series with Now and Then, a steamy short novel of lost love, second chances, and hidden dangers.
New York Times bestselling author Kathy Clark releases After Love, book one in the suspenseful Austin Heroes series. Cecy Robson’s Of Flame and Promise kicks off a sizzling new series in the Weird Girls saga as Celia’s sister Taran fights to have it all. Jessica Lemmon introduces the ultimate bad boy in Forgotten Promises, and Gina Gordon starts her powerful, deeply sensual series Body & Soul where one woman discovers the courage to face life’s greatest challenges in Naked.
Let’s get sweet with USA Today bestselling author Laura Drewry and her latest, Off the Hook, part of her Fishing for Trouble series, and Zoe Dawson and her first Laurel Falls novel, Leaving Yesterday, for fans of small-town romance. Sidn
ey Halston’s fans will be happy to know another mixed-martial-arts story is en route with Fighting Dirty, and then Claire Kent has you Taking It Off with a male stripper—yum! Adding to this USA Today bestseller list is a fast MC story from Maisey Yates, Strip You Bare. And Sawyer Bennett is bundling her books from her New York Times bestselling Cold Fury Hockey series.
Looking for a few historical romances? Lavinia Kent releases a Regency favorite in Ravishing Ruby, Sharon Cullen brings you back to Culloden in Sutherland’s Secret, and Pamela Labud’s Hunt Club series begins with To Catch a Lady—all with heroes to die for.
That’s it for this month—but February is bigger and better than ever before. Hope to see you soon.
~Happy Romance!
Gina Wachtel
Associate Publisher
Read on for an excerpt from Jessica Lemmon’s
Forgotten Promises
Available from Loveswept
Running
Tucker
Things aren’t exactly going my way. My breath burns heavy and hot in my lungs as I run. And run and run and run.
Not that I should have expected them to go smoothly. After years spent under my father’s command or seeking freedom from it, it’s eerily unsurprising to find I’ve landed myself in this much trouble just one day after getting released from prison.
Yeah. I said prison.
But I didn’t belong there.
I don’t intend on going back.
Working out in the yard at Baybrook Penitentiary, jogging the perimeter every chance I got, has paid off. Blood is drying on my shirt, the sting of broken flesh on my knuckles a physical reminder of what I am capable of. I dig deep and find the strength to run faster.
Now to find a car. I had a friend when I was on the outside. He owed me a favor. I cut across a yard and skirt a big wooden playground set with brightly colored plastic tubes and slides, wondering what it might have been like to grow up in a house like this. I wonder if the kids were protected. Safe. Loved.