He stood up and walked across to her. ‘I had an unexpected visitor this morning.’
‘You did?’
‘The Reverend King.’ There was a gleam of humour in his eyes. ‘He wanted to know exactly what time we wanted the church on Christmas Eve. Apparently it’s been reserved provisionally in our name. His suggestion was just before lunch, so that the entire island could then gather for food at our expense. I wondered what you thought.’
Jenna swallowed. Then she turned her head and stared into the garden, watching as Lexi put Rebel on his lead and led him through the little gate towards the beach. ‘I think that life sometimes surprises you,’ she said huskily. ‘I think that just when you think everything is wrong, it suddenly turns out right. I think I’m lucky. What do you think?’
Ryan closed his hands over her shoulders and turned her to face him. ‘I think we only have two hours before Lexi comes home.’ His fingers were strong, and he held her as though he never intended to let her go. ‘We should probably make the most of it. Especially if we want to make a baby before we’re both too old.’
She made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob and flung her arms around his neck. ‘What if I can’t? What if I am too old? What if I can’t give you a family?’
His hands gentle, he cupped her face and lowered his mouth to hers. ‘Marry me and you will have given me all the family I need. You. Lexi.’
‘But—’
‘Sometimes we don’t begin a journey knowing where it’s going to end,’ he said softly, resting his forehead against hers as he looked down at her. ‘Sometimes we don’t have all the answers. We don’t know what the future holds, but we do know that whatever it is we’ll deal with it. Together. The three of us. And Rebel, of course.’
The three of us.
Holding those words against her like a warm blanket, Jenna lifted her head. ‘The three of us,’ she whispered softly. ‘That sounds good to me.’
* * * * *
Read on for a sneak peek of
ONE SUMMER IN PARIS
by USA TODAY bestselling author Sarah Morgan!
Grace Porter woke on Valentine’s Day, happily married and blissfully unaware that was about to change.
Downstairs in the kitchen she added slices of cheese to the bread she’d baked fresh the day before, put fruit and raw vegetables into lunch boxes and then checked her list.
Number four on today’s list: remind Sophie about dinner.
She glanced up. “Don’t forget Dad and I are out tonight. Your dinner is in the fridge.”
Her daughter, Sophie, was messaging a friend. “Mmm…”
“Sophie!”
“I know! No phones at the table—but this is urgent. Amy and I are writing a letter to the paper about that development they’re going to build on the edge of town. Dad promised he’d publish it. Can you believe they want to close the dog shelter? Those dogs are going to die if someone doesn’t do something, and that someone is me. There. Done.” Sophie finally looked up. “Mom, I can make my own lunch.”
“Would you include fresh fruit and veg?”
“No. Which is why I’d rather make my own.” Sophie gave a smile that didn’t just light her up, it lit Grace up, too. “And you’re starting to sound like Monica, which is a little scary.”
Her daughter was like sunshine. She made the world a brighter place. For years Grace had been braced for her to rebel, take drugs, or roll in drunk after an illicit party with friends, but it hadn’t happened. It seemed that Sophie’s genetic makeup favored David’s side of the family, which was a relief. If Sophie had an addiction it was causes. She hated injustice, inequality and anything she deemed unfair—particularly when it related to animals. She was the champion of all dogs, especially the underdog.
Grace was quick to defend her friend. “Monica is a wonderful mother.”
“Maybe, but I can tell you that the first thing Chrissie is going to do when we get to Europe this summer is feast on a ton of fries to make up for all the years her mom wouldn’t let her touch them.” Sophie finished her oatmeal. “Did you say something about dinner?”
“Have you forgotten what day it is?” Grace closed the lunch boxes and put one next to Sophie. The other she slid into her own bag.
“Valentine’s Day.” Sophie slid off her chair and picked up her empty bowl. “The day it becomes public knowledge that nobody loves me.”
“Dad and I love you.”