Tru blue, p.22
Tru Blue, p.22Melissa Foster
As Gemma watched the two brothers teasing each other, she sent a silent thank-you to her stepfather, who had taken on their case pro bono despite the fact that her mother had tried to convince Warren not to help her derelict boyfriend. She’d never understand her mother, and as she watched the kids and Truman and Quincy, she realized that was okay. Not all parents needed to be understood, or even liked, for that matter. She had a stepfather with whom she was forging a relationship that felt mildly paternal and a family of friends she adored.
“Hey, Kennedy.” Crystal held up the dress she’d found. “What do you think of this dress?”
“Pwetty!” Kennedy had ice cream all over her lips. Her little tongue made a wide circle to clean it up.
Dixie crouched beside her and showed her the pink dress she’d picked out. “How about this one?”
The roar of motorcycles drowned out Kennedy’s response as Bear, Bones, and Bullet pulled up to the curb.
“Be-ah!” Kennedy squealed.
Bear took off his helmet and climbed off the bike, scooping the little girl into his arms. When her cone hit his chin, he rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders over the mess, which made Kennedy giggle.
“What are you guys doing here?” Gemma asked.
Bones and Bullet exchanged a look with Truman she couldn’t read. Truman had been quiet today, she realized, and she wondered what was up with him.
“We heard there were hot babes hanging out here,” Bear answered, setting a seductive stare on Crystal, who rolled her eyes. That had become their thing. He hit on Crystal, and for whatever reason—one she wasn’t sharing with Gemma—Crystal continuously turned him away.
“And free ice cream.” Bones lifted Kennedy into his arms and licked her ice cream.
“Boney!” Kennedy complained.
They all roared at the nickname she’d adopted for him. She wiggled out of his arms and went to Truman, who reached down and tousled her hair. He leaned down and whispered something to her. Her brows knitted in concentration.
“How’s my littlest buddy?” Bullet lifted Lincoln into his arms, and Lincoln tugged on his beard. “That’s coming off tomorrow.”
“Really?” Dixie asked.
“Yeah. I’ve had enough beard pulling by this little dude.” He kissed Lincoln’s cheek and the baby gave his beard another tug, giggling wildly when Bullet growled at him.
Gemma’s heart warmed at all the love these children had in their lives. At the love she had in her life. Her eyes sought Truman, as they always did, and she caught him looking at her in the way he had so many times over the past few months, with wonder and so much love, it felt like an embrace.
Kennedy held her cone up to Gemma, brushing the creamy treat along the front of Gemma’s skirt. Gemma leaned down, passing up the ice cream, and going in for ice-cream kisses instead.
“Mm. Best kisses ever,” Gemma said with a laugh. She might not be Kennedy and Lincoln’s parent, but she sure loved them as much as any parent ever could.
“I’ll get that, sweetheart,” Truman offered, bending to wipe her skirt with a napkin. He tipped his face up with a beautiful smile—sending her stomach all aflutter again—and held up his waffle cone.
“No thanks. Those ice-cream kisses were enough.”
Crystal and Dixie gasped, and Gemma looked around, wondering what they’d seen. Crystal pointed at Truman perched on one knee before her, still offering her his ice cream—with a beautiful solitaire diamond ring stuck in the top she’d somehow missed seeing.
“Ohmygosh. Truman?” She met his eager, loving gaze, and her heart swelled, taking up all the space in her chest.
“Sweet girl, I can’t offer you glamour or glitz, but I can offer you ice-cream stains, homemade fairy tales, and midnight kisses.” His blue eyes heated when he said midnight kisses, and she wondered if he was thinking about when they’d made love last night in their new home. A real home, where the kids could grow up and have friends over and live a safe, happy life. “And a family who adores you. If you’ll have us. I’ll even let you write that article you’ve been bugging me about if you will marry me. Will you be my wife, Gemma? Will you marry us?”
Tears tumbled free. “I don’t want glamour or glitz. Everything I could ever want is right here on this sidewalk. Yes, Tru Blue. I’ll marry you.”
He rose to his feet, licking the ring clean before sliding it on her finger. “It’s sticky, and small, but one day I’ll replace it with something bigger.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” she said, admiring the gorgeous proof of his love. “It’s perfect.”
Everyone whooped and cheered as his strong arms came around her and he took her in the most incredible kiss of her life—the kiss of her future husband.
Kennedy tried to squeeze between their legs, and they parted, laughing as Truman lifted their little girl into his arms.
“Now you be my mommy?” Kennedy asked excitedly.
Fresh tears filled Gemma’s eyes. She shifted a curious gaze to Truman.
“I don’t know what started it, but she’s been asking if she could call us Mommy and Daddy all day.” He shrugged with the sweetest, sexiest smile she’d ever seen.
Gemma must have been wrong all those months ago. Her ovaries couldn’t have exploded the day she’d met Truman, because she was sure they just had.
“Yes, baby girl. I would be honored to be your mommy.”
I hope you enjoyed Tru and Gemma’s story. Each of the Whiskey family members will have their own stories. Sign up for Melissa’s newsletter so you never miss a release. www.MelissaFoster.com/News
Get Ready for WILD WHISKEY NIGHTS
Mysteriously sexy Bear Whiskey was first introduced in RIVER OF LOVE (The Bradens at Peaceful Harbor) and you fell in love with him in TRU BLUE. Now watch Bear claw his way to his happily ever after in this fun, flirty, and five-flames hot, standalone romance, WILD WHISKEY NIGHTS.
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Ready for more Peaceful Harbor romance?
Enjoy this excerpt of RIVER OF LOVE (The Bradens at Peaceful Harbor), the book in which the Whiskeys were first introduced.
A MAN COULD take a wedding for only so long before he drank too much booze or left with a warm, willing woman to wash away all that purity. Sam Braden stood with a drink in one hand and a greedy itch in the other, debating doing both.
“I’ll take the redhead if you want the brunette.” Ty, his youngest brother, lifted his chin in the direction of the bar. In addition to being a world-renowned mountain climber and photographer, Ty was also Sam’s carousing partner. “Unless you’re double-dipping tonight, in which case I’ll go for one of the Staley sisters.”
Sam scoffed. Been there, done them.
He spotted two blondes slinking across the dance floor toward them. He’d hooked up with the one who was currently eye-fucking him last month, and the redhead Ty had been ogling moments ago had joined them in their hot, sweaty romp. His gaze shifted to the sexy brunette standing by the bar looking like she wanted to jump over it and hide behind it but she couldn’t quite figure out how. Faith Hayes. He’d been trying not to look at Faith all night, but he was losing that battle. Faith worked in Sam’s brother Cole’s medical practice. She was sweet, and good, and smart, and… Sam should not be thinking about laying her on the bar and doing dirty things to her gorgeous body.
No. He definitely should not.
Every time he looked at her, every time he thought of her—which was every damn day—that feeling of wanting more than a few quick hookups resurfaced. He not only wanted to lay her down on the bar, but he wanted to take her home. That was bizarre, too, since as a rule Sam never took any woman to his cabin. But half his visits with Cole at his office were merely made-up opportunities to get a glimpse of Faith. He didn’t fully understand his fascination with her, considering he usually preferred the kind of woman who wanted to jump him and damn well knew how, but there was no denying the stirring inside him every time she was near. He forced himself to
The tall blonde sidled up to Sam, blocking his view of Faith and blinking flirtatiously, while her friend joined Ty. “You boys look lonely.”
“Ladies,” Sam said smoothly, bringing his attention back to the pretty girls who definitely knew how to use their bodies for the good of mankind.
“Care to dance?” she asked, and like a puppy with a bone, Sam followed her out to the dance floor.
Music and dancing ranked right up there with white-water rafting in Sam’s book. As the owner of Rough Riders, a rafting and adventure company, he rarely slowed down, but a strong beat calmed his internal restlessness. And Sam was always a little restless.
The blonde moved sensuously in his arms, reminding him of all the reasons a woman should win out over booze tonight. On that thought, his eyes drifted back to Faith, still standing by the bar, holding a drink he’d bet was soda, and nervously running her finger up the side of the glass as she…watched him? Sam’s lips curved up and Faith’s gaze skittered away. She became adorably flustered whenever he visited Cole at the office, and though he probably shouldn’t, Sam got a kick out of flirting with her.
Cole stepped into his line of sight, blocking his view of Faith and casting a threatening look at Sam, sending the message, Don’t even think about it.
There were no two ways about it, Sam loved women and everyone around him knew it. He loved the way they smelled, the feel of their soft bodies against his hard muscles, their delicate features, the sounds they made in the throes of passion. But his mind refused to play the any woman game these days. It was drenched in thoughts of Faith, and he wanted to experience all those things about her firsthand.
“Sam!” Cole chided.
He shook his head to clear his mind, laughing under his breath, as he turned his attention back to the woman he was dancing with. His hands sank to the base of her spine. Mm. She felt good. His eyes were drawn to Faith again, who was staring into her drink. Bet you’d feel even better, was his first thought, but it was the second—I wonder what you’re thinking—that took him by surprise.
I SHOULDN’T HAVE come to this wedding. Faith checked her watch for the hundredth time that evening. She’d told herself she had to stay for an hour after dinner. That was the respectable thing to do at her boss’s wedding, even though she’d rather leave right this very second. Work obligations outside of the office were uncomfortable enough, but now she was not only surrounded by people she barely knew, but her stupid hormones were doing some sort of I Want Sam Braden dance. God, she hated herself right now. Look at him, getting all handsy with the town flirt. He’d been dancing all night with every other woman in the place. They practically lined up to be near him. Why shouldn’t they? He was not only nice to everyone, but he was tall, dark, and distractingly handsome. The kind of handsome that made smart girls like Faith forget the alphabet. His arm was the most coveted spot in all of Peaceful Harbor, and damn it to hell, she did not want to be there.
I seriously need to dive into a tequila bottle. Or leave. Since driving home after drinking a bottle of tequila posed issues, she decided leaving was a better option.
She had the perfect excuse to cut out a little early, too. She was hosting a car wash tomorrow to raise funds for WAC, Women Against Cheaters, an online support group she’d started for women who had been cheated on.
By guys like Sam.
Sam glanced up and—Oh God, shoot me now—caught her staring. Again. She turned away, hoping he hadn’t really noticed, even though his eyes were like laser beams burning a hole in her back. Of course he saw her. How could he not? She was practically drooling over him. She didn’t want to have this stupid crush on the man who, if she believed the rumors, had slept with most of the women in Peaceful Harbor. If she took away his devastatingly good looks, he was the exact opposite of the type of man she wanted or needed.
Unable to resist, she stole another glance, and like every other set of female eyes in the place that weren’t related to him, she was drawn in like a fly to butter. He was gorgeous. Manly. Rugged. And that smile. Lordy, Lordy. She fanned her face. His smile alone caused her toes to curl. All the Bradens were good-looking, but there was something edgy and enigmatic about Sam. Dangerous.
Too dangerous for her, which was okay, because she didn’t really want him. Not in the try to keep him sense. A man like Sam couldn’t be kept, and she wasn’t about to be the idiot who tried. She’d be happy with leering and lusting, and pretending she wasn’t.
Except, oh shit, he was coming over. He moved across the dance floor like he owned the place, confident, determined, focused, leaving the blonde, and a dozen other women, staring after him. If looks had powers beyond the ability to weaken Faith’s knees, Sam would have eaten her up before he even reached her. His dark eyes were narrow, seductive, and shimmering with wickedness. His broad shoulders looked even wider, more powerful, beneath his expensive tuxedo. The top buttons of his shirt were open, giving her a glimpse of his tanned skin and a dusting of chest hair. He looked like he should be lounging on a couch with women fawning over him. Godlike.
Godlike? I am pathetic.
Faith was not a meek woman without a man in her life. She was single by choice, thank you very much. She stunk at choosing men, and besides that…men sucked. They cheated, they lied, and eventually they all tried to put the blame back on her. Ever since JJ, her last boyfriend, made good on the unspoken All Men Must Cheat promise their gender seemed to live by, she’d confined her dating pool to include only boring, slightly nerdy men.
Sam’s deep voice washed over her skin and nestled into her memory bank for later when she was alone in her bed, thinking about him. She hated that, too. Why, oh, why, did he have to be a player? Couldn’t he be like his brothers Cole and Nate? Loyal to the end of time?
He touched her arm, burning her skin.
“Oh. Hi, Sam.” That sounded casual, right? He was so big, standing this close, and he smelled like man and sunshine and heat all wrapped up in one big delicious package.
Great. Now I’m thinking of your package.
“Would you like to dance?” he asked.
Yes. No! Stick to your boring-man rule, Faith.
Sam was anything but boring, taking every outdoor risk known to man and out carousing every night of the week. Nope, she wanted no part of that.
“No, thanks.” She sipped her drink, wishing it were tequila instead of Jack and Coke. Wishing she were home instead of standing beside the human heat wave.
His brows knitted. “You sure? I haven’t seen you on the dance floor all night.”
“Have you run out of girls already?” Holy Jesus, did I say that out loud?
An easy smile spread across his face, like he wasn’t offended, but…amused? He looked around the room and said, “No, actually. There are a few I haven’t danced with.” Those chocolate eyes focused on her again. “But I want to dance with you.”
She downed her drink to keep the word Okay from slipping out and set the empty glass on the bar. “Thanks, but I’m actually getting ready to leave.”
“Now, that would be a shame.” His eyes dragged slowly down her body, making her feel vulnerable and naked.
Naked with Sam Braden. Her entire body flamed, and he must have noticed, because his eyes turned midnight black.
“You look incredibly beautiful tonight, and it’s Cole and Leesa’s big day. You should stick around.” He leaned in a little closer. “And dance with me.”
It wasn’t like her jelly legs could carry her out of ther
She had to admit, he had this pickup thing down pat. His eyes were solely focused on her, while she felt the gaze of nearly every single woman in the place on her like they wondered what she had that they didn’t—or maybe like they wanted to kill her. Yup. That was probably more accurate.
“The wedding was lovely,” she managed. “I’m happy for Cole and Leesa, but I’m hosting a car wash at Harbor Park tomorrow afternoon. I should really get going so I have time to prepare.”
Sam stepped closer. His fingers caressed the back of her arm, sending shivers of heat straight to her brain—and short-circuiting it.
“Harbor Park?” The right side of his tempting mouth lifted in a teasing smile. “Surely you won’t turn into a pumpkin this early. You can’t leave without giving me one dance. Come on. Think of how happy it’ll make Cole to see you enjoying yourself.”
He was obviously not going to give up. Maybe she should just give in and dance with him. She had no desire to be another in the long line of Sam’s conquests, but it was just one dance, and then she could leave, and he’d go back to any of the other women there. That idea sank like a rock in her stomach.
Her stupid hormones swam to the surface again. You did ask nicely. Maybe she was reading too much into this dance. It was just a dance, not a date.
But his eyes were boring into her in that I want to get into your panties way he had. She’d seen him give that look to several other women tonight.
Several. Other. Women.
Ugh! Why was she even considering this?
It was his hand, moving up and down her arm, making her shivery and hot at once. And those eyes, drawing her in, making her feel important. She wasn’t important to Sam. She knew that in her smart physician assistant brain, but her ovaries had some sort of hold on that part of her brain, crushing her smart cells.
Tru Blue by Melissa Foster / History & Fiction have rating 4 out of 5 / Based on32 votes