Page 34 of Sweet Talk (Buchanan-Renard 10)

  The question gave her pause. “I’d take care of you.”

  “Marry me.” He was backing her into her bedroom while he made his demand. “I’m not asking. I’m telling you. You’re going to marry me.”

  She promised to think about it. He knew what that meant. She’d be thinking about it six months from now.

  “When you wake up, you’ll have a ring on your finger. I’m done waiting.” He pulled her to him and began to undress her.

  “You think I’ll sleep through you putting a ring on my finger? I’m a very light sleeper, Grayson.”

  “When I’m finished with you, you’re going to be so exhausted, you’ll sleep through anything I do to you.”

  He wasn’t exaggerating. He began to make love to her with gentle caresses and slow, wet kisses. He soon became more demanding, and he brought her to the brink again and again, but each time he pulled back and made her wait. When she finally screamed for release, he gave in. The last thing she remembered was Grayson leaning over her and whispering that he loved her.

  He stayed over that night and slept with her wrapped in his arms. When Olivia woke up, he was in the kitchen. She could smell bacon, and she could hear him whistling. She rolled onto her back and stretched her arms toward the ceiling. She saw the ring then, a gorgeous emerald-cut diamond.

  Grayson heard the rich, joyful sound of laughter coming from the bedroom. It was music to his ears.

  He had his answer.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  Their wedding was to be a small affair in her aunt Emma’s living room. Olivia couldn’t make up her mind if she wanted to invite her mother and her sister, but Natalie made the decision for her. She called late one evening, and her voice was absolutely frigid.

  “Still blaming me, Natalie?” Olivia asked.

  “You are to blame,” her sister said resentfully. “I don’t think Mother or I will ever be able to forgive you.”

  “Have I asked for forgiveness?”

  “I have a message.”

  “Oh?”

  “The message is from our father. He has such a kind heart.”

  “Right.”

  “He said he’s ready to forgive you, but you have to face him when you apologize.”

  There was dead silence on the phone for at least twenty seconds. Then Olivia began to laugh. Some things—and some men—never change. Logan Weston was one example; Robert MacKenzie, another.

  * * *

  It was such a beautiful spring day, Emma decided to have the wedding outside in her garden. By the time she finished with the caterer and the florist, the yard looked like a wonderland.

  Dr. Andre Pardieu walked Olivia down the aisle. Her maids of honor were Collins, Jane, and Samantha. Olivia had told Grayson that Samantha had to be at the ceremony, and if she couldn’t get leave, then everyone would go to Iceland, and they’d get married there.

  Grayson in his tux set her heart on fire. This beautiful man loved her. As she walked toward him, she felt as though she were floating. All her worries had vanished. She was no longer afraid of what might come. With Grayson at her side, she could face anything. He was her lover, her friend, her strength. It would be all right to lean on him every now and then.

  There was much to celebrate. Collins had finally received word that she could begin training to become an FBI agent, and she was thrilled. Ronan kept his distance, but Olivia noticed he hadn’t taken his eyes off Collins. She couldn’t wait to see what might come of the attraction.

  Agent Huntsman was late for the ceremony, but he had the most wonderful excuse. He pulled Olivia and Grayson aside to share his news. “I’ve got a wedding present for you,” he began. “We finally caught up with that bitch, Gretta Keene. She was in New Mexico under an assumed name. She’s behind bars now. And guess who else?”

  Olivia gasped. “Eric Jorguson?”

  “That’s right. We nabbed him, too.” Huntsman couldn’t stop smiling. “We’ve got everything we need to prove Jorguson was laundering money, and now it looks like we’ll also be able to go after some of his other clients. It’s a mighty fine day, isn’t it?”

  Olivia thought it was a fine day, indeed. Every one of Grayson’s buddies was drooling over Olivia’s three best friends. And the girls certainly knew how to flirt, even Jane, now that she was looking so radiant. She’d started dating again and was truly happy.

  Ralph and his father were invited—Henry had put them on the list. Mary and Harriet were busy protecting the cake and keeping the boys out of mischief.

  Ralph Sr. fell under Samantha’s spell. He hung on her every word. She was launching into “the story” when her friends joined her.

  “There I was . . .”

  Collins, Jane, and Olivia finished the sentence for her. “...in seat twenty-eight A on flight twenty-seven forty-three. . . .” Laughter followed, drawing smiles from the guests.

  The photographer wanted a picture of the bride with her maids of honor. Olivia gathered them on the terrace. They stood together smiling into the camera. Sam whispered something the others found hilarious, and they had a good laugh.

  Contentment washed over Olivia. The Pips were together again. They had come through the storm, and the sun was shining.

  EPILOGUE

  A year had passed since the wedding, and Olivia had settled comfortably into married life. Patrick continued to keep the household running smoothly, and she helped with carpools and homework.

  Grayson hadn’t committed yet, but he was giving serious thought to accepting a promotion at the agency. As an incentive, they had agreed to his demands: He could take on individual cases from time to time and not be tied to a desk, and Ronan would continue to be his partner for those investigations. The new position would mean that his work schedule would be predictable and he could spend more time with his family.

  Olivia and Henry had become very close. Their busy lives kept them occupied during the week, so Olivia made it a point to reserve the weekends for family activities. One Saturday in late June, Olivia and Henry were at a local farmers’ market that was set up on the edge of a city park. She wanted to pick up some fresh vegetables for their dinner, and she’d promised Henry they would see the latest Transformer movie when she was finished. Grayson and Ronan were tying up a case, and Ronan was going to drop Grayson off at the park to meet them and spend the rest of the day with them.

  Henry had one of his handheld game players and was trying to destroy aliens while Olivia and he strolled among the crowded stalls. She kept her hand on Henry’s shoulder, guiding him. They stopped in front of a stall containing fresh tomatoes. As she was sorting through them, she glanced across the market to the parking lot beyond. Grayson was walking toward her. Her heartbeat quickened, and her breath caught in her throat. Oh, he was such a handsome man. In all this time together, she still hadn’t gotten used to him. Whenever he walked through the door at night, she reacted the same way. Always with excitement and wonder. She thought it a miracle that he loved her.

  He reached her and leaned down to kiss her. Henry was so intent on his game, he didn’t realize his uncle had joined them.

  “Sorry I’m late. After all this time, Eric Jorguson wants to make a deal,” he explained. “It’s not gonna happen. He can’t give us anything we don’t already have.”

  “I can’t despise the man,” she whispered so Henry wouldn’t overhear. “If he hadn’t attacked me, I never would have met you.”

  “Not true,” Grayson said. And though he wasn’t usually poetic, he added, “We were meant to be together. I would have found you.”

  For a complete list of this author’s books click here or visit

  www.penguin.com/garwoodchecklist

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Julie Garwood is among the most critically acclaimed—and popular—romance authors around, with thirty-six million co

pies of her books in print. She is the author of numerous New York Times bestsellers, including The Ideal Man, Sizzle, Fire and Ice, Shadow Music, Shadow Dance, and Slow Burn. She lives near Kansas City.

  Read on for a sneak peek of

  Julie Garwood’s new novel,

  FAST TRACK

  Available in July 2014.

  Prologue

  Cordelia Kane met her Prince Charming when she was just five years old.

  Cordelia, called Cordie by her father since she was a baby, hadn’t wanted to go to school when she turned five, but her father wouldn’t let her stay home anymore. He insisted she give school a try. He was positive she would like it. As it turned out, he was right. On her first day in kindergarten at the exclusive Briarwood School, she made two new friends, Sophie Rose and Regan Madison.

  Cordie saw Sophie that first morning crossing the parking lot and was sure the girl had just stepped out of a fairy tale. Her long white blond hair bounced as she walked, and she had a twinkle in her eyes. Regan arrived shortly after. She was very pretty, too, with thick brown hair and freckles on her nose that Cordie wished she had. It didn’t take long for the girls to form a bond. All it took was one incident on the playground. A second-grade bully tried to take Cordie’s hair barrettes from her, and Regan and Sophie immediately came to her defense. Sophie was outraged on Cordie’s behalf, but it was Regan who proved to be the brave one. She stood up to the bully and wouldn’t back down. From that moment on, the girls became inseparable. Where one went the others followed.

  Cordie’s new friends came from homes that were very different from hers. Regan and Sophie were driven to school by chauffeurs in limos and town cars. Cordie’s father drove her to school in his old reliable pickup truck. Regan and Sophie had attended prestigious preschools for two years before starting at Briarwood. Cordie hadn’t gone to preschool, yet when she started kindergarten, she already knew how to read. Her father had taught her, sitting down with her every night after dinner and her bath.

  Reading wasn’t the only thing her father taught her. While other children worked on arts and crafts and played games like hide-and-seek, Cordie spent her days with her father in his automotive shop learning all about cars. He loved working on what he called “clunkers,” and because she wanted to please him, she paid attention to what he was doing and managed to get grease on her clothes almost daily. Every night before they went home, they played a game. He would lift the hood of a car, then pick her up in his arms and point to something in or around the engine. It was her task to tell him what the part was called and what its job was. As she got older, she got better and quicker. Her favorite thing was to ride along with her father in his tow truck and help stranded people. Sometimes it took only a few minutes to get the engine going; other times he had to tow the car back to his shop. The easiest to fix were dead batteries and worn spark plugs. She knew what both of those were because her father had told her. Like other children, she had coloring books and crayons, but she never used them. She preferred following her father around and being his helper.

  Because she didn’t have playmates, she was fearful of what school would be like. But once she met Sophie and Regan, all her fears slipped away.

  Cordie shared a special connection with Sophie. Both of their mothers had died before the girls were old enough to remember them. Regan was the lucky one. She had a mother, and Cordie and Sophie would have envied their friend except for the fact that her mother was never around. She was always traveling and, even when she was in town, seldom spent time at home. If it weren’t for Regan’s three brothers, she wouldn’t have known any family at all. She might have been the only one of them fortunate enough to have siblings, but that didn’t matter to Cordie and Sophie. When they were together, they were sisters.

  Since Sophie was the oldest by almost a year, she felt she should be able to boss the other two around, and for a while, they let her. Then, as time passed, the girls became competitive with one another in almost everything . . . except soccer. They all joined a team, but Sophie didn’t like sweating or getting dirty, so she usually walked down the field or just stood where she was and waited for the ball to come back her way. Regan, the shortest member of the team, was a powerhouse. But then, so was Cordie. The two of them usually scored at least one goal each. They were girly girls who loved ribbons in their hair and ruffles on their skirts, but on the field, they were aggressive and out to win.

  It was at the end of one of their soccer practices that Cordie met him.

  Evan, Regan’s driver, had been sent to the airport to fetch a friend of her mother’s, so Aiden, Regan’s oldest brother, got stuck with soccer carpool. Spencer, the middle brother, decided to ride along with him.

  The practice field was out in the middle of nowhere. Aiden took a wrong turn, had to backtrack, and was fifteen minutes late getting to the field. The soccer coach always waited until all the girls had been picked up before leaving, and he was about to put Regan and Sophie and Cordie in his van and take them home when Aiden finally showed up. The SUV he was driving was making a loud noise.

  The girls stood together with their backpacks at their feet, squinting against the setting sun at the two figures in the noisy vehicle.

  “That’s an old car,” Sophie said. “Really old.”

  Cordie nodded. “It’s a clunker,” she announced with authority.

  The car came to a chugging stop, and the two teens got out and started across the field.

  “Who are those boys?” Sophie asked.

  “My brothers,” Regan said. “The big one is Aiden. He’s sixteen. Spencer is only fouteen,” she added. “I don’t know where Walker is. Maybe he stayed home.”

  Aiden whistled and motioned to Regan. “Let’s go,” he shouted.

  “He sounds mad,” Sophie whispered.

  Regan shook her head. She lifted her backpack over her shoulder as she said, “He isn’t mad. He’s just always in a hurry.”

  Aiden whistled again. Regan picked up the pace and shouted, “Stop whistling. We aren’t dogs, Aiden.”

  Her brother obviously thought her comment hilarious and had a good laugh. She handed him her backpack and, following her lead, Sophie and Cordie handed him theirs as well. As they proceeded toward the SUV, Regan introduced her friends. Sophie looked back at the two boys, smiled, and said hello, but when Cordie turned around, she could only stare. Her attention was locked on Aiden. She thought he was the most perfect boy she had ever seen. He looked just like the prince in her favorite story, “Snow White.” His hair was almost as dark and his face was just as handsome. He was big, too, bigger than her father. Maybe he really was a prince, she thought.

  “How was soccer?” Spencer asked.

  “Good,” Regan answered.

  “It must have been,” Aiden said. “You’re covered in dirt.”

  “Cordie’s got dirt on her, too,” Regan pointed out. “But Sophie doesn’t.”

  Spencer turned to the little blond girl. “Didn’t you get to practice today?” he asked, taking in her pristine appearance. She was spotless, and her soccer shoes looked brand-new, as though she’d just taken them out of the box.

  “I practiced,” she assured him.

  “But your—”

  Regan explained. “Sophie doesn’t like to get dirty.”

  Spencer glanced at Aiden before asking Sophie, “Then why do you play soccer?”

  “I like soccer,” she answered.

  Regan nodded. “She does.”

  Aiden laughed. “You’re being logical, Spencer.”

  “And?” his brother asked.

  “They aren’t.”

  They reached the faded blue SUV. Aiden tossed the girls’ backpacks in the back while Spencer opened the door for them to get inside. “Put your seat belts on,” he instructed.

  “Why are you driving this car?” Regan asked.

  “I b

orrowed it,” Aiden said. “It’s a loaner while my car is being serviced. It’s all they had.”

  He got behind the wheel, put the key in the ignition, and turned it. The engine sputtered, then died. He tried again. The same thing happened. Then again and again while he pumped the gas pedal.

  He felt a hand on his shoulder. When he turned, he saw that Cordie had unhooked her seat belt and was sitting on the edge of the seat watching him. Before he could tell her to put her seat belt back on, she said, “You should stop doing that. You’re probably flooding it.”

  “It?” Spencer said.

  “The engine.” Didn’t he know anything? she wondered. “He’s flooding the engine,” she explained slowly so he would understand.

  She remembered what her father often said. If he had a dollar for every call he got about a car that wouldn’t start because the driver had flooded the engine, why, he’d have a whole lot of dollars.

  Aiden was so surprised by the quiet authority in her voice that it took him a few seconds to react.

  “I’m not flooding it,” he said.

  She looked him in the eyes and replied, “Yes, you are. If you keep doing that, you’ll have to wait a long time before you can try again, and you know what? You’ll probably flood it again.” She patted his shoulder as though she was trying to console him and added, “It’s because you don’t know what you’re doing. If you want, I could show you.”

  Having given her opinion, she scooted back, clicked her seat belt on, and offered her friends some of the fruity snacks she had in her pocket. Within seconds the girls were whispering and giggling. The topic was Halloween and what costumes they were going to wear to school for the party. Regan announced she was going as a scary witch, and Sophie couldn’t quite decide but was leaning toward a ballerina.

  “Are you still going to be Cinderella?” Sophie asked Cordie.

  Cordie stopped to think for a second and then looked up at Aiden before answering. “I’ve changed my mind,” she answered. “I’m going to be Snow White.”