Epilogue
* * *
Four weeks, six days, and eight hours later
It’s a Royal Wedding in Rock Canyon!
Ladies and Gentleman, today we celebrate as Travis Bowers (Country Music’s King of Rock), sweeps our very own Gemma Carlson off her feet (again) as the two recommit to each other in front of God, their friends and family, and the eye of SAURON (AKA Mrs. Marcie Andrews). I will be there, cheering them on, in a red and black dress . . . Or will I? LOL! Come on, folks, like I’d make it that easy for you? Congratulations to Gemma and Travis! Oh, and as for our favorite neighborhood barista and bartender . . . I’ll be watching you two! ;-)
GEMMA SAT IN the little antechamber of the church, waiting anxiously for the vow renewal ceremony to begin.
“Will you hold still, for Pete’s sake?” Gracie said irritably, holding Gemma’s veil as Katie Connors put the last pin in Gemma’s hair.
“I’m excited, what can I say?” Gemma smiled in the mirror. Gracie stood behind her and slipped the veil below the cascade of brown curls.
“Excited, good. Lopsided hair, bad,” Gracie said, as Katie laughed.
The door opened, and Callie, Gemma’s mom, and her sister Dawn came into the room.
“They’re getting ready to start,” Callie said, sounding a little nervous.
Gemma was happy that Callie had agreed to be one of her bridesmaids. Big crowds tended to make her nervous, but she’d been a real trooper, and Gemma reminded herself to ask Travis about that interview. They’d been so wrapped up in each other and Charlie the last month, they hadn’t had time to think of anything else.
As Gemma stood up, the women around her gave a collective gasp.
“Oh, Gemma, you are beautiful,” her mother said, giving her a hug.
“Thanks, Mom,” Gemma said happily. She was so excited about all of the work the people of Rock Canyon had put into the ceremony and reception, and she almost started giggling when she thought about her mother and Mrs. Andrews nearly coming to blows over the bouquet flowers. She hadn’t cared one wit about the flowers, the food, or even the dress. All she’d cared about was standing up in front of the people she loved and remarrying Travis.
After his song, he’d stayed two days with her, and they’d needed the time to themselves to talk. Gemma had never been so honest in her life, except maybe with Gracie, but it had been such a relief to open up to Travis and feel his love and acceptance.
The makeup sex hadn’t hurt either.
A loud knock sounded on the door, and her brother James walked in, covering his eyes with one hand. “Are you decent?”
“Yes, you dork,” Gemma said.
James dropped his hand and whistled. “Not bad, baby sister. Mom, it’s time to start the parade.”
Her mom went to take James’s arm and they left the room quietly.
Gemma turned to look in the full-length mirror. Travis had insisted on a new wedding dress, even though she’d protested, assuring him that the dress from their first wedding was wonderful, but he’d wanted a fresh start. She’d ended up finding the perfect strapless, champagne taffeta wedding dress on eBay, and Travis had teased her about being a penny pincher. Wearing the teardrop diamond necklace he’d bought her, she’d paired it with her sapphire studs for her something blue and the silvery heels she’d saved from their prom as her something old.
Gracie handed her the round bouquet of orange roses and Gerbera daisies. Gracie, Callie, and Dawn all wore tea-length, sea-foam-green dresses they’d gotten off the sales rack, and the color complemented each of them.
“You ready?” Gracie asked. “Or do I need to go get the escape mobile?”
Gemma smiled. “I’m ready.”
Following the other women out to the entryway of the church, Gemma saw Michael, who was one of Travis’s groomsmen, looking very handsome in his tux, and gave him a bright smile. Returning her smile, he covered his heart with his hands and acted like he’d been shot. Things had been getting better between them, especially since Travis and he had rekindled their friendship with a late night of drinking and a couple of thrown punches. They never would tell her why they’d fought, but considering both men had been thick as thieves ever since, she didn’t press it.
Charlie came running up to her in his tux, his hair slicked flat with gel and beaming. “Hey, Mom!”
“Hey, honey.” The processional started, and two by two, the couples entered the church until Charlie and Gemma were the only ones left. Slipping her hand through her son’s crooked arm, she asked, “Are you ready?”
“Yeah!” he said, moving forward a little fast at first, but a quick squeeze of his arm slowed him down. They entered the church, and the rest of the room melted away when Gemma saw Travis waiting under the arbor.
They seemed to float down the aisle in slow motion until they stopped at the bottom of the three-step stage. Gemma held her breath, unable to look away from Travis’s face. A combination of love, wonder, and happiness shone from his deep blue eyes, and tears started falling down her cheeks before she could stop them.
“You’re going to ruin your makeup,” Gracie hissed from the top step.
Ignoring her, Gemma waited as Travis came down the stairs and cupped her cheek, bringing her to him. Leaning down, he gave her a long, soft kiss that only broke when Pastor Edwards coughed. “Eh, not time yet.”
Smiling as they held each other, Travis said, “I love you, Gem.”
“I love you, too, Trav,” she replied, one arm around his waist as they faced the pastor and started up the steps.
Pausing briefly, Travis grabbed Charlie from her other side and pulled him between them.
As the trio reached their place under the arbor, Travis said, “We’re ready now.”
Sixteen minutes and a lot of laughter later, Pastor Edward’s gave Travis permission to kiss the bride. Again.
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Want more Rock Canyon romance?
Keep reading for an excerpt from Codi Gary’s
THINGS GOOD GIRLS DON’T DO
and a sneak peek from her upcoming novel,
BAD GIRLS DON’T MARRY MARINES
Coming June 2014 from Avon Impulse!
An Excerpt from
THINGS GOOD GIRLS DON’T DO
For Katie Conners, being a good girl just isn’t worth it anymore. One evening, after a bad day and one too many mojitos, Katie starts making a list of things a girl like her would never do . . .
When local tattoo artist Chase Trepasso finds Katie’s list in a bar, he’s determined to help Little Miss Uptight check off a few items. Especially the ones on the naughtier side . . .
KATIE FINISHED HER last appointment and headed to the grocery store to do some shopping. She drove past The Local Bean and Chloe’s Book Nook, and looked to the left at Chase’s place, Jagged Rock Tattoo Parlor. She was still fuming about him coming into her salon and playing with her, even if he had apologized. Telling her he could help her out with anything on her list. Of all the conceited, high-handed, jerky things to say. He obviously hadn’t been too sorry, since he made that outrageous proposition. And after she had just started to think he wasn’t that bad of a guy.
Who did he think he was, Iron Man? That he could just ooze charm and she would fawn all over him because he was handsome, successful, and single?
Like she would ever really do anything on that list, and for him to suggest it made her feel cheap. Like he had no respect for her, or maybe it was just women in general. Was he one of those guys who thought all women were easy prey, just waiting for some big, handsome guy to move in with a few suggestive ideas and they would just drop their panties and say, “Come on, big boy . . .”?
Without really thinking about what she was doing, she pulled around the corner and parked. She slammed her door and marched into the parlor just as he was coming out of the back with a sterile tray. His pleased, lazy smile only added fuel to the fire.
“Hey,” she said, “I don’t appreciate you coming into my salon and baiting me with things you really know nothing about.”
Setting his tray down slowly, he said, “Actually, I know quite a bit about tattoos, and let’s see . . .” He pulled something from his pocket and unfolded it slowly. Recognizing the bar napkin, Katie lunged forward and tried to grab at it, but he held it out of reach, reading, “Sex shops, stealing—although I don’t recommend that—drinking, skinny-dipping, flirting, and oh yeah . . . one-night stands.” He brought his arm down and she snatched the list from him. Before she could move away, he reached out and grabbed her wrist, running his thumb over her skin slowly.
Attempting to pull away from him, she cursed the tingles his warm hand caused. Glaring, she tried to sound firm. “Let go of me. I’m tired of your games. I don’t know why you think it’s funny to play with someone’s emotions, but I’ve never done anything to you and I find it humiliating that you would make fun of me over something I did when I was having a bad day. It makes you a bully, and I want you to leave me alone.”
Chase didn’t release her, just reached out with his other hand and started to pull her toward him. Her heart pounded as all that mouthwatering muscle drew closer to her and he slipped his arm around her waist. She might think Chase was lower than pond scum, but her hormones sure didn’t agree.
Katie stopped struggling and tilted her face up just as he said, “I can’t do that.”
Letting her wrist go, she froze as he trailed his hand up her arm slowly, making every single cell in her body scream to get closer, but a lifetime of good breeding and manners kept reciting, Good girls don’t . . . good girls don’t . . .
Still, the part of her that hadn’t been held by a man in a long time wanted him to kiss her until her brain shut up.
He didn’t kiss her like she wanted him to, though.
Chase ran one hand through her hair and cupped her cheek with the other. “Sweet Katie, the last thing on this earth I’d want to do is upset you, but I have to say, it is really hot to see you all riled up.” He slipped his thumb over her bottom lip and continued, “Your mouth purses when someone irritates you and you’re trying not to say anything. I’ve noticed you do that a lot. But your eyes heat up when you’re ticked off, and that’s hard to miss. Like now.”
Katie was holding her breath as she swayed toward him, and he whispered, “Do you know what you want?”
Did she? “Yes.” She drifted a little closer, like she couldn’t resist him. It was his eyes. No, the way he smiled. Maybe . . .
“Do you know where you want it?”
His words were penetrating the fog of desire and she blinked at him. “What?”
Sliding his hand from her lip to over her shoulder, he asked, “Do you want it here?”
It finally registered what he was asking and she said, “I don’t want a tattoo.”
“Are you sure?” he said teasingly. “’Cause I have a binder full of things you might like. Of course, there are some things we could check off the list that don’t involve binders, needles, or tattoos. Let me think . . .”
She needed to move away from him so she could think. She took a breath, but that was a mistake. He smelled amazing, and she was so tired of being good all the time. She was thirty years old and the man she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with had picked someone else. Maybe if she had been more daring and less rigid, Jimmy wouldn’t have dumped her. She would never know now. She couldn’t change the past, but she could let go now, just this once.
Slipping her arms up around his neck and ignoring his wide-eyed expression, she said, “Chase, if you want to kiss me, will you just do it already?”
An Excerpt from
BAD GIRLS DON’T MARRY MARINES
Valerie Willis has always been known as a bad girl around town. Now back in Rock Canyon after a messy divorce, Val just wants to bury her head and wait for the scandal to pass. But when she suddenly finds herself at a single’s weekend face-to-face with the one guy who got away, hiding from her heart—and a sexy former Marine—won’t be that simple.
VALERIE WILLIS WAS reaching up for a bottle of Merlot, located on the highest shelf of Hall’s Market, and cursing the shelf’s discrimination against short people. At just barely over five feet, she had a step stool at home for when she needed something high, but out in public, it was like the world conspired against her.
She’d walked to the end of the aisle, trying to get someone’s attention, but the only person who’d acknowledged her had been one of the checkers, and all she’d gotten from her was a look of disapproval.
It was no secret that the people of Rock Canyon thought the Willis sisters were trashy, despite the fact that their father was the mayor and they came from a very wealthy family with connections in high places. None of that had saved her older sister, Caroline, from being called a man-stealer when she’d barely hit eighteen, or her younger sister, Annie, from picking up a wild reputation. Val had thought she’d escaped the small-town life with barely a dent, but all it took was a very high profile, public divorce, and she became the worst of “those Willis girls.”
She half-wondered if people were standing around the corner with video cameras, watching her struggle for kicks, but decided that no one would be that petty.
Just as she was about to start climbing shelves, a voice behind her asked, “Do you need some help with that?”
Val spun around in surprise and came face-to-face with a very impressive chest. Slowly, her eyes traveled up over the wide expanse of shoulders and a square jawline; a jaw that would tempt even the sanest woman to stroke it. When her eyes passed the wide grin to meet amused golden brown eyes, her brain had a severe malfunction.
It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen Justin Silverton around town since moving back, but it was the first time they’d actually said a word to each other in ten years, not since that night at the high school. And that night they’d done very little talking.
“Valerie? You okay?” Justin asked, that one lone dimple in his left cheek hypnotizing her.
Was she okay? She had been asking herself that question since she’d moved back to town a year ago, holing up like a hermit with only her dog for company. She had tried to avoid her father, the people in town, and any man between the ages of 25 and 45, but she had to come out sometime.
The man in front of her was definitely in the to-be-avoided category. Not only had he made her lose her head ten years ago, but it was because of him that she’d spent her last two years of high school in an all-girls school.
Okay, so it wasn’t actually Justin’s fault her dad hated his guts and had wanted her as far away from him as possible, but still, a man like that was dangerous. She’d been with men, had experienced some crazy nights, but that one night they’d hung out always crept back on her at odd times. She’d been a girl taking her first big rebellious leap, and he’d been on leave from the Marines, just passing the time. The attraction had been instantaneous, like the flick of a lighter, and obviously there was still a spark there or she wouldn’t be standing here like a dummy, speechless.
The concern on his face broke through her dumbstruck daze. “Sorry, Justin, I guess I need coffee this morning.” His gaze shifted to The Local Bean coffee shop cup in her cart and she amended, “More coffee.”
“Gotcha.” He stepped up next to her, and the smell of his cologne was intoxicating. She caught herself before she leaned right in and buried her nose in his chest, but it was a close call.
Why was she acting like a lust-filled Pepé Le Pew?
A few reasons popped into her head, the first being that Justin was grade-A hot male and completely worthy of her drool. Another had to do with the fact that it had been almost two years since she’d slept with anyone. And finally, of all the guys in Rock Canyon, Idaho, Justin had been the only one ever to treat her like more than Mayor Willis’s daughter, or one of “those Willis girls.”
“Is this the one you want?” Justin pulled down the bottle she’d been trying to reach and held it out to her.
Clearing her throat, she took it with a smile, hoping he couldn’t read the crazy on her face. “Thanks. I couldn’t find a bag boy, and I’m too vertically challenged for the high shelf.”
“Not a problem. You got a hot date?” he asked teasingly.
“No!” Realizing she had almost yelled the word, she wanted to smack herself, just haul off and whack her own cheek, but then he’d really think she was nuts. Dates led to relationships, which led to marriage and from there . . . well, she’d already been down that road. “Sorry. No, it’s just for me.”
“That’s a shame.” He tapped the bottle and added, “That’s a nice bottle of wine. It should be shared with someone, especially with how cold it’s been lately.”
It was true. They were having record low temperatures this year, some days not even reaching ten degrees, with nights below zero. If there had been someone in her life, it would have been the perfect plan, but the last thing she wanted was a man.
Even the man standing in front of you?
No, she didn’t want anyone. She was enjoying her uncomplicated life and, thankfully, the more she hibernated, the more her father ignored her. Life was never good when Edward Willis came up with one of his evil public-appearance schemes.
Finally getting her bearings, she smiled. “Maybe I’ll call my sister, then. See if she wants to help me drink it.”
“That wasn’t exactly what I meant—”
“I know what you meant, but I’m not dating.” It came out sharper than she’d intended, but she wasn’t ready. Hell, she didn’t know if she’d ever be ready again.
Justin stared at her like he was trying to Vulcan mind meld with her, and it brought her back to who she’d been before she’d been sent away. Before she’d married Cole and spent four years of her life miserable and lonely. That girl had been wild and reckless, and it was hard not to wonder how things might have been different if only . . .
If only she hadn’t been born Valerie Willis and Justin hadn’t been Fred Silverton’s son.
It was no secret how her father felt. If he hadn’t discovered her missing that night ten years ago and watched by the window, he might never have known who dropped her off. She had no idea what had gone on between their fathers, but seeing her and Justin together was all it had taken for her dad to go off on a full rampage and pack off her to that convent of a school.
She almost snorted out loud. Like that had really kept her out of trouble.
She caught Justin’s expression and felt bad that she’d snapped. It wasn’t his fault she’d made a mess of her life. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that,” Val said, placing the bottle in her cart.
“It’s okay, I was just teasing you. I didn’t mean to overstep.” His face had taken on a blank quality she hated.
“It’s not you—”
“It’s you.” He gave her a small nod. “I get it. Hey, enjoy the wine.”
He walked down the aisle toward the checkout and Val called after him, “Thank you” but he just kept walking like he hadn’t heard her.
Grabbing her cart, she turned it angrily and muttered to herself, “You are such an idiot.”
“I beg your pardon?” a clipped voice said, and Val looked up to find she’d almost crashed into Mrs. Andrews. And by the look on the older woman’s face, she was not happy about it.
“I was talking to myself, Mrs. Andrews.”
“Oh, so you’re insane as well as immoral. It seems to run in the family. I thought for a while there that your little sister would have learned from your mistakes, but from her latest antics, that seems to be too much to expect.” Mrs. Andrews’s tone was cutting, and Val felt every slice. “Now, can you please move your cart?”
She knew coming back to this town had been a mistake, but she couldn’t leave Annabelle.
Val had never been lily white, especially in college, but she had never been reckless with herself either. Her little sister was heading down a dangerous road, and no matter what she said about it, Annie just shrugged her off. Val had watched their older sister almost destroy herself trying to escape their father’s stranglehold, but Annie didn’t have Caroline’s strength. Beneath all her dramatics, Annie was a sweet kid.
However, just because the whole town thought she was an adulterous slut didn’t mean she was going to take their abuse without fighting back. Especially when that venom encompassed her sisters.
Edward Willis didn’t raise weaklings, after all.
“Mrs. Andrews, I don’t like your tone or appreciate your insults. And to be honest,” Val lowered her voice for dramatic effect, “I find your top offensive. Your tatas are about to pop out.”
In reality, the top wasn’t in the least immodest, but Val felt the warmth of satisfaction when the woman huffed and moved around her. She hoped the cranky old bat went home immediately and burned the shirt.
Her triumph was short-lived as she made it to the end of the aisle and passed a woman with an infant car seat in her cart. Peeking inside, she saw a pink blanket and, above it, the sweet face of a sleeping baby.
Val’s stomach twisted with envy as she turned down the next aisle. It happened every time she saw a pregnant woman or a small child; the reality of what she’d never have came back to haunt her.
Val grabbed a package of premade cookie dough and decided that the rest of her grocery shopping could wait. Right now she wanted to be home, alone, without any catty townspeople, adorable newborns, or men who could make a grown woman turn to mush with just a glance.
“HEY, WHAT’S THE matter with you? You’re acting like Dad kicked your dog or something.”
Justin had his head under the hood of their old farm truck, so he had no idea why his brother thought he was acting like anything. “I’m just working on the truck.”
“Yeah, but you’re slamming tools and jerking around. What happened? You lose another bet?”
Justin pulled up from what he was doing and gave his older brother a level look. “No. I’m concentrating. That’s it.”
“Fine, I was just trying to help.” Everett’s wide grin made the scarred side of his face more distinctive. The red, puckered flesh had been healed for several years but still drew the eye. He was a strong man, and the right side of his face sported the same square jaw and light brown eyes Justin had, but it wasn’t what strangers noticed first. They noticed the scars.
Everett had been finishing his second tour in Afghanistan when a roadside bomb had taken out his Humvee. Everett had ended up in a military hospital after trying to save his friend. He’d had third-degree burns along the left side of his face and neck and damaged hearing. His friend hadn’t survived.
Still, the townfolk of Rock Canyon saw Everett as a hero. They didn’t know about his nightmares, though, or the severe PTSD that had cost him his wife, Melanie. By the time he’d come back to Rock Canyon, all of that was behind him, and he had picked up where he’d left off, helping his dad on the ranch.
Everett was the reason Justin had joined the Marines in the first place, but while his brother had been in the infantry, working his way up the ranks, Justin had scored so high on the ASVAB that he’d been able to practically choose his assignment.
He’d chosen to be a mechanic—a trade he could take with him when he got out. He wasn’t like Everett, who would have been a lifer. He had wanted the education and the benefits because without them, the only thing he was going to end up doing was working the farm and taking care of his dad when he got too drunk to stand on his own.
Justin’s mouth twisted grimly. He’d left home at eighteen to escape the life of a farmer, and twelve years later, he was right back where he’d started. He could have left any time, if he’d really wanted to, but he couldn’t turn his back on the only family he had left. In spite of the times his dad let his demons get the better of him, he was a good man and father.
He was just a stubborn son of a bitch.
“You seem more pensive than usual,” Everett said, handing him a beer as he sat down on one of the stools in the garage.
Justin grinned as he popped the top and took a swig. “Trying to psychoanalyze me, brother?”
“You kidding me? I don’t want to delve any deeper into that head of yours.” Everett tipped his beer up again and wiped his mouth. “Who knows what I’d find?”
“Nothing terribly complicated up here.” Justin tapped the side of his head for emphasis, despite the image of one extremely complicated woman that he couldn’t seem to shake.
He’d seen Valerie Willis around town a few times since she’d moved back, but today at Hall’s Market was the first time he’d really talked to her. Rumor had it she’d cheated on her ex-husband, Cole Channing, a real up-and-comer in politics, and after he’d divorced her, she’d come home to ride out the scandal. It was hard for him to reconcile the Valerie he remembered with the cold, heartless bitch the townspeople were portraying her as.
The Valerie he’d met ten years ago had been beautiful and wild, like a bobcat he’d once seen running across a meadow. She’d been up for anything, from the kiss he’d laid on her before knowing her name to streaking across the Rock Canyon High School football field. Afterward, he’d walked her to the door and kissed her good night, asking if he could see her again. He hadn’t even slept with her, but the little spitfire had sure gotten under his skin. He could still remember the taste of her strawberry lip gloss as she’d kissed him one last time, whispering “yes” as she ran for the side of her house.
But when he went to see her the next day, her dad had told him she was gone and said, in no uncertain terms, that he didn’t want Fred Silverton’s son anywhere near his girl.
It had stung that she’d left town without telling him, but he’d finally figured out that their night had meant more to him than her. He’d moved on and gotten over what could have been.
Then, today, he’d gone and made an ass out of himself, insinuating she should share her bottle of wine with him.
“Well,” his brother said, bringing him out of his own head, “I’d better go tend to my chores. See you later.”
Justin shook his head to clear it and said, “Yeah, see ya.” Finishing his beer, he turned up the radio and the heater, his breath still fogging in front of him.
“Hello, all you lucky Valentines out there. Stay tuned for your next chance to win tickets to see Brad Paisley, February 14th! Just listen for Brad’s ‘Little Moments’ to win.” Kat Country DJ Callie Jacobsen called out through the speakers. Justin’s ears perked up. “And for all of you singles, how would you like to win an all-inclusive weekend vacation to the place where perfect matches are made? Just listen to this jingle . . .”
Justin was barely listening anymore as he went back to work on the engine, pushing all thoughts of petite brunettes from his mind.