Charity knew he wasn’t joking at all. He took his seat next to hers, his eyes shimmering with emotion he swiftly hid behind a pair of dark glasses.
“Big baby,” she whispered in his ear, and he turned his head to give her an impassive look. As if he could fool her with a pair of aviator sunglasses and a downturned mouth. He was a blubbering mess behind that disguise.
After nearly a year of courtship—well, “courtship” was probably too formal a word for canoodling that went on between the two of them—George was finally making an honest woman of his beloved Enid. The woman had pretty much moved to Riversend with Miles. But even though she ostensibly lived at her son’s house, she had never spent any significant time there. Instead, she had practically moved into George’s house.
Which had suited Miles and Charity just fine because Charity had moved in with Miles.
And she had never been happier. Business was thriving, she spoke with her family often, and kept up with her therapy sessions. She had made so many friends since returning to Riversend, and she was becoming a valued member of the community. She had even allowed Sam to coerce her into teaching a few self-defense classes.
Life was good, and at the center of it all was the man beside her. He had traveled more than he’d initially intended to, but always hurried home to her. They were ecstatic. And more and more in love every day.
Her hand crept into his. Because, despite his stoicism, she knew this was an emotional day for him. Her gorgeous, strong man was a little tearful because his mother was getting married.
Charity watched the couple exchange their I do’s. Vicki and Nina were bridesmaids, and Hugh the best man. And Miles, duty done, sat and watched as his mother married her beloved George.
“It was a lovely wedding,” Charity reflected that evening.
“It was nice,” Miles agreed, he had finished brushing his teeth and was watching her moisturize her face with a dreamy smile on his face.
“They were thrilled with their wedding gift. That was a lovely thing you did for them.”
“I couldn’t have them living in a one-bedroom house. She would drive George nuts, they’d fight, and then she’d wind up back on my doorstep.” He folded his arms over his naked chest and shook his head. “Nope, it’s better this way. A bigger house will allow them both space to preserve their sanity.”
“I didn’t think George would accept it.” There had been a moment when George had looked on the verge of giving back the title deed of the modest three-bedroom house in town that Miles had bought for them. But in the end, he had hugged Miles and thanked him emotionally.
“George is a wise man. He loves my mum and he knew a bigger house would make her happy. Mum’s a humble woman,” he said. “And she would have been content in George’s old place, but they needed more space. They both knew that.”
Charity massaged the excess moisturizer into the skin of her hands and forearms, never shifting her eyes from his somber face.
She got up from her dresser to gift him with a tender kiss.
“I love you, you know that?”
“I have an inkling, yes.” He curled his arms around her waist and squeezed her close. He whistled and the incongruous sound startled Charity into looking up.
Stormy came trotting into the room and, momentarily diverted, Charity shifted her glance down to the dog, and then huffed an exasperated sigh.
“Now what? I thought she was done with this,” she groused. She moved out of Miles’s arms to kneel on the carpeted floor and call Stormy over. She made a tut-tutting sound and tugged at the random offering Stormy had dangling from her slobbering mouth.
“Ugh, so much drool,” she complained, as she investigated the mysterious object. Not sure what it was. She glared at Miles irritably. “In fact, next time you can retrieve whatever gross gift your dog decides to bri—Miles?”
He looked odd. Green around the gills and ashen around the mouth and…gray in the face. So many awful shades of hideous colors.
He swallowed thickly and his eyes bugged. Not an attractive look on him at all.
Confused…and more than a little alarmed, Charity pushed to her feet, her intention to touch test his forehead for fever. But when he collapsed to one knee, she gasped, terrified that he was seriously ill.
God! Where was her phone? She instinctively looked down at her hand. No that wasn’t her phone it was the thing Stormy had brou—she peered more closely at the item in her hand.
It was a box.
Breathing became the hardest thing in the world. A chore. An impossibility.
She swayed, feeling light-headed as she continued to stare at the beribboned box.
Miles was still on the floor. He could have passed out by now, she wouldn’t know. So focused was she on that box.
She slid the ribbon off, wrinkling her nose at how wet it was…Stormy had carried the box by the ribbon. She exhaled slowly and flipped the lid up.
And then covered her mouth with her free hand as she stared at the stunning, oval, flawless sapphire in awe. The stone was flanked by two smaller diamonds and set on a slender white gold band.
Her confused gaze leaped to Miles’s. He was still on the floor. On bended knee. Dressed in a pair of loose gray sweatpants, barefoot, bare chested, with dark stubble blooming on his jaw and lean cheeks, and his short black hair mussed.
He was, and always would be, the most beautiful man she had ever known.
“Charity Ella Cole, I love you more than anything else in this whole damned world. You’re my best friend and having you in my life is—quite simply—the most wonderful thing to ever happen to me. I can’t imagine being without you. I want to spend forever with you, I want to have children with you. And you would make me the happiest man alive if you wanted those things too. Will you marry me?”
Her lips trembled and her eyes were misty with the tears already streaming down her cheeks.
She knelt beside him and threw her arms around his neck, unbalancing him and sending them both to toppling to the floor. Delighted with this awesome new game, Stormy barked and leaped on top of both of them, licking every surface of available skin she could reach.
They convulsed with laughter, trying to push the dog off, but Stormy seemed to think it was part of the game and redoubled her efforts. They were a crazy tangled mess of limbs, hair, and fur and—in the midst of all that happy chaos—Charity said yes.
This wasn’t an easy book to write. I had so many doubts about the story, the characters, the subject matter. But thankfully, I had so many who believed in me, encouraged me to go for it, and talked me out of giving up entirely. Completing this story would not have been possible without them.
Rae Rivers for always listening. Hopefully we’ll be able to resume our brunches soon.
Jo Watson for your unwavering support, the brainstorming sessions, the fun and laughter. You rock, lady!
Ashleigh Giannoccaro for your invaluable advice throughout the editorial/pre-publishing phase. I can’t wait for our wine tour.
My cousin, Melanie Cupido, thanks for reading it and telling me it didn’t suck (if she thought it sucked, trust me, she would have told me).
Ilona Ahrens for the beta read. You like to call yourself a fan, but I think of you as a good friend.
Kimberley Whalen – my amazing agent. I owe you everything.
May Sage – for helping me navigate these foreign waters. I appreciate it so much!
Dr. Yomika Venketsamy, Masters of Technology (Chiropractic). I loved our chats. Thank you for sharing your knowledge with me. Charity’s chiropractic competence is thanks only to you.
I know too many women who have suffered through domestic violence. This book is for them and for all the others I do not know.
With nearly a million books sold, Natasha Anders has been drawing praise and attention as a unique voice in romance since 2012. Her first novel, The Unwanted Wife, was a bestselling sensation and remains a consistent favorite among readers. Her 2017 novel, The Wingman, the first in her new Alpha Men trilogy, was a finalist for a 2018 Romance Writers of America RITA Award.
Born in Cape Town, South Africa, Anders spent nine years as an associate English teacher in Niigata, Japan, where she became a legendary karaoke diva. Anders currently lives in Cape Town with her temperamental chihuahua, Maia; her moody budgie, Baxter; sweet little chihuahua Hana; and her little wingman, adorable parrotlet, Mason.
Readers can connect with her through her Facebook page, on Twitter at @satyne1, or at www.natashaanders.com
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Epilogue
Acknowledgments