She tilted her face up to catch his eyes.
“I couldn’t go. I would have regretted leaving you.”
“Your uncle?”
“Can’t be mad. I got fired.”
“Fired?”
“Mmmm. Apparently, I was too mopey to work for Samara Amaya. She fired me this morning.”
He felt like he wasn’t getting the whole story, but it didn’t matter. He’d get it some other time. Nothing mattered but having her restored to him. He searched her eyes, just needing to know…
“Is this temporary or permanent?”
“I love you, Lars. I’m all in, too. I’m staying.”
His reaction was instantaneous. He pulled her into his arms and his mouth came down on hers possessively. He swept his tongue into her mouth and Jane responded with a small moan of relief and delight, weaving her hands through his blond hair, then lacing her hands behind his neck. He trailed kisses down her neck to her ear, taking the lobe between his teeth and biting gently, loving the way she tensed up against him and moaned deep in her throat. It made him smile to know her so well. It made him smile that they had so much time ahead of them for him to learn everything.
He laid his head on her shoulder then, and closed his eyes, gratitude coursing through his body, crashing over him in waves of relief.
“Just try and get rid of me now,” she whispered.
Oh, man, that warm, honey voice.
“No chance,” he breathed. “I will do whatever it takes so that you never regret staying, Jane.”
Jane leaned her head back, moving her hands to his face, holding him in place, as her eyes held his.
“No regrets,” she whispered. “I’m staying with you.”
“You’re staying with me,” he repeated with wonder, and his heart thundered in his chest, bursting with love for her as he finally believed it was true. He smiled so wide that it turned into laughter, and he held her tightly, knowing this kind of happiness was only possible when you finally receive the one thing you wanted more than anything else in the world.
They held each other for a while in the quiet of the dim bedroom, until Jane leaned back, with teasing eyes, and licked her lips. His eyes sparkled then narrowed, as he watched her, his body responding to her. He sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling her between his legs, spanning her waist with his rough hands, his fingers brushing the satin of bare skin under her t-shirt.
“Heya, Lars.”
“Heya, Minx.”
“Got anything on the agenda for tonight?” she asked, little fingers unbuttoning his shirt.
“Could be,” he answered, pushing her shirt up and over her head.
“Something you want to share with me?”
“Yep. Something special just for you.”
He reached for the clasp at her back.
“Is that right?” she asked, shrugging out of her bra.
“That’s right,” he answered, as he unbuttoned her jeans, his heart racing with anticipation for the sweetness that was to come.
“Tell me what you want, Just-Lars,” she whispered, low and taut.
He pulled her naked body into his arms, then down on the bed behind them, staring at her beloved face.
“I already got what I wanted,” he breathed, pulling her left hand to his lips. He kissed the fourth finger, which he fully intended to decorate with a ring by Thanksgiving. “I got Jane to choose me.”
THE END
EPILOGUE
Two months ago
Maggie Campbell couldn’t stand it that her best friend, Paul Johansson, who was one of the finest people she’d ever met in her entire life, couldn’t catch a break with love. She’d done all she could do to help, but as she had frequently heard Paul and Lars Lindstrom lament, there weren’t many eligible young women in Gardiner.
The difference between Paul and Lars, however, was that Lars didn’t lack for female companionship, flashing his ice-blue eyes at every pretty park girl who came through town. Paul, on the other hand, seemed to be waiting for something special, someone special.
She refilled the coffee mugs sitting in front of them on the copper bar.
“So you’re game?” Lars was asking Paul. “Lower Slide? Tomorrow morning?”
Paul looked wary. “Who’s coming with us?”
“Just you and me,” said Lars.
“Right. Last time you said ‘just you and me’, we ended up with those girls tagging along.”
“Misty and Mandy? Come on! They were fun.”
Paul gave his friend a look. “They were barely eighteen. They could have been seniors at my school. It matters what folks around here think of me, Lars.”
“Principal Paul,” Lars sighed, rolling his eyes. “You’ve got to loosen up.”
“I’m as loose as the next man. Trout fishing with my buddy sounds great. With Misty and Mandy? Not so much.”
“I miss Erik.”
“I miss him too. When he lived here, you never tried to get me to go horn dogging with you.”
“Okay. No Misty and Mandy.” Lars took his phone out of his hip pocket and sent a quick text, no doubt canceling on whatever bimbos were supposed to join them tomorrow. When he looked up again, his eyes twinkled with amusement. “Speaking of ladies, I heard you took Mary Phillips out on the town a few nights back.”
Paul shook his head, giving Maggie a sideways look and taking a long sip of coffee.
Mary Phillips, the forty-something secretary from Grace Church didn’t look a whole decade older than Paul when Maggie had set up the date. Maggie had no idea Mary would spend most of the evening blathering on about her health problems like an old lady.
Maggie shrugged. “How was I supposed to know she has crabs?”
Lars’s mouth fell open in shock.
“Shingles!” Paul blurted out, a mouthful of coffee spewing onto the bar. “Shingles! Not crabs, for God’s sake, Maggie!”
“Crabs!” exclaimed Lars, his shoulder shaking with laughter. “Maggie said craaaaabs!”
“Och, for heaven’s—Shingles, I mean! Shingles!”
Lars howled with laughter as he headed to the door, waving goodnight to both of them as he swiped at the tears in his eyes. They could still hear him laughing as he made his way down the street toward home.
“Really, Maggie?”
Maggie shrugged. She hadn’t meant to say crabs. She was so distracted lately. And she missed Nils. With him in the park for a whole month with a tour group—
“Mags?”
She looked up to find Paul staring at her.
“Let me give you a refill. Sorry, Paul. I mean, I just…” She shrugged helplessly, turning to grab the coffee pot. She poured the scalding liquid into his cup, pushing it to him, then put the pot back on the warmer and wiped the mixture of coffee and Lars’s spit from the copper bar, shining it until it gleamed.
Paul chuckled. “Your heart’s in the right place, but promise me something, okay? No more meddling in my love life, okay?”
“What love life?”
“I’m a happy bachelor, Mags.”
“I don’t buy that for a second.”
“Well, it’s not your problem.”
“But you’re like a brother to me and I just want—”