The Running Series Complete Collection: 3-Book Set plus Bonus Novella (97 page)

Evan lifts the ring with one hand, takes my hand in his other and slips the ring on my finger.  It fits like a glove, perfectly sized and shined to a sparkle.  Again, tears well up in my eyes.  I try to look at the ring on my small hand, but it’s no use.  I cannot see through the clouded veil of my tears.  The jeweler hands me a tissue, which I gladly accept.

“It fits perfectly.  I can’t believe it.  How did you do it, Evan?”

Evan explains to me how he’s been planning this day with the help of Brianna and Jocelyn for two weeks now.  He stole my high school class ring, which I never wear anymore, and had it sized at a local jeweler.  This morning, when he arrived, he and Mr. Broadwin selected just the settings in my size and Evan’s price range, all so that I would be able to have my ring today.  Evan went to all that trouble so I can wear my ring home.  “Are you telling me that it’s mine?  I don’t have to take it off?” I ask.

“Juliette, my love, I hope you never have to take off this ring,” Evan proclaims proudly.

The jeweler interrupts with instructions on the proper way to care for and clean my new ring.  Evan signs a few papers, and before long, we’re done.  I leave the showroom an engaged woman.  I wonder to myself as we walk down the street whether or not I look any different.  I feel completely different on the inside, but does it show on the outside?

It’s nearly seven thirty at night when we leave.  Evan carries my shopping bags, and I carry my bouquet of white gardenias.  I ask Evan about them.  He’s never given me this particular flower before.  He looks down at me and simply explains that gardenias are going to be the flowers in my bridal bouquet.  I am speechless. 

Evan hasn’t eaten a thing all day, so he offers to take us out to dinner.  He only has to ask once, because at this moment, I would follow him anywhere.  We walk a few blocks south and Evan leads me to the Tribeca Grill. 

All throughout dinner, I can’t stop looking down at my hand and the stunning ring that now resides there.  “So, who are you going to tell first?” Evan asks.

“I think I should call my mother.  She’d be upset if anyone else found out before her,” I tell him.

“Well then, Running Girl, you better make that call now, because when we set foot outside these doors, there’s going to be a small horde of reporters waiting.  If you don’t want her to hear about it on the eleven o’clock news, you better call her now.”

“Oh, my God, Evan.  How do you know they’re out there?  Did  you ...”

Evan nods.  “I did.  Adam called a few of his contacts and told them you and I might be here tonight with news to share.”

“Seriously?  Why?”  I’ve never known Evan to seek out attention from the press.

“I want the world to know, Juliette.  I want to shout it from the mountaintop.  I want the entire universe to know that you have consented to be my wife.  It’s the proudest moment of my life.  Now go ahead and call your mother before I do.”

I
wake the next day naked and wrapped in a tangle with Evan’s arms and legs tightly wrapped around me.  As I gently run my hand across the arm that stretches across my hips, I sense that I’m still smiling, and I’m fairly certain that it’s the same smile I wore to bed last night.

Evan is sound asleep.  He needs to shave and his hair is messy, as usual.  I want to run my fingers through his mop of hair, but I decide to let him sleep.  Careful not to wake him, I slowly peel him off me.  He must be exhausted, because he’s not moving a muscle.  He just lies there with the sheets barely covering him.  One naked leg, half his ass, and most of his back are exposed and it’s all I can do to keep from crawling back in bed and rousing him up for some wake-up sex.

Quietly, I toss on one of Evan’s Sentinels t-shirts and sashay into the kitchen to get some nourishment for us.  I make a pot of coffee and find a tray for our breakfast in bed.  I gather up some fresh fruit and make us some toast with jam.

I set the food and hot coffee on a tray and sneak back into our bedroom.  I clear a spot on the nightstand for our breakfast, then climb up Evan’s body and kiss his face. Evan begins to wake from my soft touch and I can feel his breathy words tickle my neck.  “Good morning future wife,” Evan whispers.

“Good morning future husband.”  I nibble his lips and kiss to his neck as he moves beneath me.  “Time to get up.  I have something for you.”

He runs his hand down my back and tugs on the fabric of the shirt.   “Well then, you better take this off.”

He looks at me with those sexy blue eyes.   “No, not that.”  

As he sits up, he tosses the sheets in his lap, and runs his hands over his face and through his hair.   His morning stubble is ridiculously sexy.

I reach over across the bed and present the tray I’ve prepared for us.  “Breakfast!”  

“This is perfect.”  He pops a few grapes in his mouth and grabs his cup of coffee in one hand and a piece of toast with the other.

“Hungry?”

“Starving,” he says, gazing up at me with bright blue, lustful eyes. 

“That’s going to have to wait until later, chief.”

“You’re no fun,” he grumbles, munching on toast and fresh melon.

I laugh.  “That’s not what you said last night.”  I reach up to caress his face, and he catches my hand to examine it more closely.  Evan strokes the ring on my finger, reminding me that my perfect day yesterday wasn’t a dream.  It happened, all of it.  The closer I look at my fantasy ring, I can’t help but wonder if I was a little too covetous.  “Evan, be honest.  Do you think it’s too much?  I was so caught up in the moment, I didn’t stop to think about the cost.”

“Stop that talk right now.  It’s perfect.  It belongs right there on your finger.”  Evan brings my hand to his lips and places soft, loving kisses on the palm of my hand.

“Well, then.  I think it would be a good idea for me to get you a gift to show you how much I love my ring.”  I nuzzle up to his chest as he plays with my hair.

“I really liked that special present you gave me last night.  Remember?  When you did that thing with your tongue?  I wouldn’t mind getting another one of those.”  He runs a hand across my spine from shoulders to hip.

“Later.  I have to get up.  I’m so late.  I have to get to the restaurant.”  Evan’s strong arms grab hold of me and drag me back down to bed.  “Evan, stop.  I can’t.”

“Oh yes, you can.  There’s no work for you today.  I already took care of it.  Now get that beautiful little ass of yours back in this bed right now.”

I wake up a few hours later and this time I’m alone and naked in our bed.  I hear the shower running, so I know exactly where my fiancé is.  It’s so strange to call him that, but I like the way it sounds.

I bring our empty breakfast tray back into the kitchen.  As I fill the sink with soapy water, I thumb through yesterday’s mail lying on the kitchen counter.  There are the usual assortment of bills and advertisements, but something else catches my eye.  It’s a letter-sized envelope with Evan’s name and address written in a woman’s handwriting.  I turn it over to see if a return address is listed, and I actually stop breathing.  I have to remind my lungs to breathe in and breathe out again.  The letter I hold in my hand is from Averee DeVeau. 

Thick as Thieves

“W
hatcha got there?”  A pair of strong arms wrap around my waist while water drips from his wet head onto my shoulder.  Evan peers over my shoulder and nuzzles my ear.  Quickly, I shuffle the papers leaving random advertisements on the top of the pile.

“Just the usual,” I tell him, tossing the stack to the side.  I turn and give my fiancé a proper hello.  “So chief, what’s on the schedule for today?”

“You better hop in the shower PDQ.  We’ve got a long ride ahead of us.”

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“Mom is having us over for dinner so you can show off that stunning ring of yours.  She already called and invited your mother to join us.  After dinner, I thought we would stop by Rush.”  Evan pours himself a big glass of orange juice.  “How does that sound?”

“Perfect.  Absolutely perfect.”  While Evan calls his mother to confirm our plans, I grab Averee’s letter and stick it in my pocket.  I want – no, I need – to read the letter first, alone.  If there is nothing harmful or inappropriate, I’ll share it with him.  Otherwise, I’ll have to deal with it myself.  Now that Evan has the entire New Jersey Sentinels team relying on him, this is one small way I can lighten his burden. 

I open my dresser drawer and place the letter underneath a pile of clothes.  Evan has no need to rifle through my things, so I’m quite certain the letter won’t be accidentally discovered.  With the letter safely hidden, I hurry to the shower. 

As I stand beneath the rainfall showerhead, I adjust the pressure on the body spray for a pulsing massage.  Should I read the letter before we go or should I wait?  Suppose I read it now?  It could contain anything.  It might be an apology expressing regret and shame.  It could be a desperate plea for Evan to rekindle their relationship.  It could also contain the nonsensical ramblings of a disturbed mind.  Do I want her words hanging over me all day and night?  Will I be able to keep her letter a secret from Evan? 

Before I have time to decide, the shower door opens and I am no longer alone.  Evan finds all sorts of ways to keep my mind, and my body, occupied until it’s time to leave.

When we pull up to the house, Evan’s mother, Jill, comes running out to greet us.  “You’re here!  Congratulations,” she excitedly proclaims, throwing both arms around us and pulling us in for a group hug.  She steps back and looks at me, takes my left hand, and inspects my ring.  “Oh, darling, it’s simply elegant, just exquisite.  I couldn’t be happier for both of you.”

Evan stands by my side, proud as a peacock.  He reaches back into the car and presents his mother with a cake box.  “Mom, we picked this up from the restaurant on the way here.  It’s one of Juliette’s famous cheesecakes.”

“Evan, darling, bring Juliette around back while I bring this to the kitchen.  Your father’s at his usual post manning the grill.” 

He takes my hand and leads me to the backyard where our small family has gathered to celebrate our engagement.  Seated around the patio table on a beautiful stone terrace are my mother and Evan’s sister Callie.  Callie’s husband Dean is pushing little Regan on a tree swing.

The moment Evan and I get to the patio, my mother is up on her feet and squeezing me with all her might.  “I can’t believe my little girl is getting married.”  She turns to Evan, holding out her arms, “And you, come here,” she demands.  Evan happily reciprocates her motherly hug.  “You better take care of my little girl.  She’s all I’ve got, you know.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Evan respectfully promises.

After I get a fatherly hug and congratulations from John, Callie pulls out a chair and demands that I sit down and spill, “Tell me everything, and don’t leave out a single detail.”

“Do you really need details Callie?” I ask.  “Your fingerprints were all over that proposal.”  As a florist, she’s been behind every one of Evan’s thoughtful gestures and I’m certain she had her hand in this, too.

“What do you mean?” she asks.

“All the flowers.  Didn’t you help?”

“Nope.  Not me.  Not this time.”

“The gardenias?  Did he at least talk to you about those?” I ask.

“Sorry, Juliette, but he didn’t.  What happened with the gardenias?” she wants to know.

I tell her about all the flowers, including the white gardenias, and then pull out my phone to show her pictures.  When I tell her that Evan chose them especially because he wants them in my bridal bouquet, she wells up a little bit.  Evan walks up and stands behind me, rubbing my shoulders, grinning proudly.

“I never, in my wildest dreams, would have imagined that my baby brother had it in him.  You really do bring out the best in him, Juliette.” 

“Do you doubt my ability to sweep a woman off her feet?” Evan challenges.  He takes a few short strides to Callie, lifts her up, and throws her over his shoulder. 

“Evan Thomas McGuire, you put me down right now,” she hollers, laughing and pounding on his back the whole time. 

He walks to the back corner of the yard and ceremoniously deposits her onto the hammock.  “Never doubt the determination of a McGuire.”