Date with Destiny Read online

  Grace swallowed a lump in her throat. “Yes,” she whispered.

  Irene smiled warmly. “Good girl.”

  She managed a smile and her breath came out as a shudder when she looked toward the doors that led outside. “Is...is he...”

  Irene nodded and squeezed her arm. “He is.”

  She took a few steps forward. “Thank you.”

  Barbara Preston watched her daughter walk outside and turned to her best friend. “What was that all about? What does it mean?”

  Irene grinned broadly. “I think it means that one day you and I will probably be sharing grandchildren.”

  * * *

  Cameron had walked through the family room and onto the back patio when he heard someone call Grace’s name. Stupid. He heard her name everywhere. On the street. On the television. In his dreams.

  But this caught his attention. He stopped in the doorway and looked around.

  And there she stood.

  Like a vision. A beautiful vision with her hair curling wildly around her face. She wore jeans and an old shirt. His shirt he realized after a microsecond. She’s wearing my shirt. She’s here and she’s wearing my shirt. His heart almost burst through his chest.

  The dozen or so people on the patio all stilled. And stared. She stared back, from one to the next. And then she found him with her gaze. In that moment no one else existed and his mind soared with a hazy kind of hope. He fought the urge to go to her, staying back, head spinning.

  She’s here.

  Cameron’s gaze flicked to the group of curious people watching her...taking in her hair and clothes and the faintly expectant expression on her face. She did look different than the Grace they were used to. They were used to the usual perfection of her immaculate clothing and straight hair. Funny, but she always seemed perfect to him. His mind was bombarded with memories—Grace in the morning, her hair spread out on his pillow. A sleepy Grace who couldn’t keep her eyes open as they watched television together. Grace coming apart in his arms when they made love.

  “Can I...can I talk to you?” she asked hesitantly, looking only at him.

  The twenty feet between them suddenly seemed like a huge divide—especially with their respective families watching on the sidelines. Maybe he should have suggested they go inside. But he didn’t want to move...he didn’t want to shift the incredible contact throbbing between them.

  “Okay...talk.”

  Her eyes widened and glittered. She wouldn’t do this in front of her family. Or would she? He tried to be cool and rested one shoulder against the doorjamb and watched as she swallowed hard.

  “Here?”

  Cameron nodded. “Here.”

  She glanced at the sea of curious faces watching their exchange and shook her head fractionally. Cameron looked across the patio and saw Evie nodding, almost prompting her sister to continue. He watched and panic rose when she stepped back. She turned on her heels and walked toward the door to the house. His mother was there. As was Barbara Preston.

  After a moment she turned again, back to him. Relief pitched in his chest when he saw strength in her eyes.

  “You were right,” she said quietly and crossed her arms over his paint-splattered shirt. “About me. About everything.”

  Cameron waited, breathless.

  “I have always wanted to be perfect,” she stressed, looking at him. “But after the accident I was so far from that. I was out of control. I felt weak, like I’d lost my edge. It was as if I’d been cut off at the knees.”

  “And?” he asked, trying to appear casual even though his insides were jumping all over the place.

  “And I came back here to refocus. I had to prove that I could be that person again—the one who was ambitious and strong and successful—because that’s who I’d been raised to be. That’s what defined me. I knew I had to take back my life and not be afraid, and not feel so wretchedly guilty that I’d survived and someone else had died.” She drew in a deep breath. “So, I did refocus. Then I went back to New York and got a promotion the very day I returned to work.” She drew in another breath, shakier, short. “And it would have been a great job.”

  Cameron straightened and pushed himself off the door. “Would have?”

  She nodded. “I quit.”

  More gasps echoed around the patio. Cameron could barely get his words out. “You quit? Why?”

  He saw her lip tremble and watched, both fascinated and agonized as her green eyes filled with tears.

  “Because I didn’t want to make the biggest mistake of my life.” Her voice quivered, almost breaking. “So, I quit, like I said. Which means I’m unemployed.” She raised her shoulders and dropped them heavily. “I’ve decided I’m going to work for myself now. Freelance. I’ll get a few clients and who knows...” She blinked at the wetness threatening to fall. “All I know is that I can do that anywhere. I can do that...here.”

  Cameron harnessed his feelings. They weren’t done yet. He had to know more. He had to know how she really felt. “And will that be enough?” Will I be enough? Will we be enough?

  Grace nodded. “I’ve been incredibly stupid. And afraid. And dishonest with myself. And with you,” she added. “I want things. I want all those things we talked about. I do want my career...but I want everything else, too. I want a home and a family and...and who says a person can’t have b-both?” She hiccupped and clasped her arms tightly around herself.

  “I guess it depends how much you want them.”

  She nodded. “I want them badly enough to stand here and make a complete fool out of myself right now.”

  Cameron bit back a grin. She was making a fool of herself. A beautiful, perfectly adorable fool. “And you’re doing that because?”

  Grace drew in a breath and glanced at the stunned, silent people standing on the edge of the patio. Emotion choked her eyes, her heart and her skin. They were her family and she wasn’t being judged as weak or foolish or any of the things she’d always feared.

  “Because...” she said shakily and let the tears come, over her lids and down her cheeks. “Because when I’m with you I’m the best version of myself. And I’m...just...so much in love with you.”

  There it was. Her heart laid out for everyone to see. She ignored the shocked gasps from the sidelines. Ignored everything and everyone except Cameron.

  He hadn’t moved. But he looked deep into her eyes. Into that place made only for him. Grace tried to smile, hoping to see love and acceptance and forgiveness.

  “Say something,” she whispered.

  He grinned. “You’re wearing my shirt.”

  Grace unhooked her arms and touched the fabric. “It was all I had of you.”

  “It’s not all you have, Grace.” He smiled broadly and she saw the love in his expression. “Whatever I am, with every part of who I am...you’ve always had every bit of my heart.”

  Relief and love and gratitude flowed through her and she kept crying, but they were happy tears she was proud to show. “So, will you ask me that question again? Because if you do, I’ll promise to get the answer right this time.”

  He laughed softly and looked toward the people staring at them, all stunned by what they had heard. Except Evie, who was smiling the biggest smile and holding her baby against her chest. And Irene Jakowski, who looked at Grace as though she had just hung the moon.

  He nodded. “I’m asking.”

  Grace laughed, happiness radiating through her. “And I’m saying yes.”

  His smile reached right into her heart. “Then get over here,” he beckoned softly.

  She took about two seconds before she raced across the patio and flung herself into his arms. For the first time in her life she didn’t give a hoot what anyone thought of her. She didn’t care that some of her family were now looking at her as though she’
d lost her mind. Serious, overachieving, humorless Grace was gone. She didn’t want to be perfect. She simply wanted to love this incredible man who’d somehow managed to love her too despite her prickly, icy reserve.

  He kissed her then, right there, in front of the world, and Grace gave up her heart, her soul, her very self, and kissed him back.

  “Am I the only one who didn’t know about this?” Grace heard Noah ask in an incredulous voice. She also heard Callie’s “no, dear,” and smiled beneath the pressure of Cameron’s kiss.

  Finally they pulled apart. He smiled and gazed down at her. “Let’s get out of here,” he suggested and grasped her hand. “So I can do this properly.”

  Grace took a deep breath and vaguely heard him excuse them both. Within less than a minute they were inside the house and he pulled her down onto the sofa in the living room.

  “I don’t think poor Noah is over the shock,” she said, laughing.

  Cameron molded her shoulders with his hands and looked into her eyes. “He’ll get used to the idea,” he assured her. “Once we’re married.”

  “Married?” she echoed dreamily.

  He looked panicky all of a sudden. “You did agree to marry me, didn’t you?”

  She nodded. “Yes. But you’ll need this to make it official,” she said and pulled the ring he’d offered her weeks ago from her pocket. “It really is beautiful.”

  “You kept it?”

  She nodded. “Of course I did. I’ve been carrying it with me everywhere.”

  “Does it fit?” he asked and took the ring from her fingertips.

  Grace shrugged. “I’m not sure. I didn’t dare try it on. I wanted to...so much.”

  Cameron smiled deeply and grabbed her left hand. “Where it belongs,” he said as he easily slipped the ring onto her finger. “Now and forever, Princess.”

  Grace’s heart did a flip. Hearing him call her Princess was the most wonderful thing she’d ever heard. “I’m so sorry, Cameron. For every time I made you feel like I didn’t want this...that I didn’t want us. I’m sorry for being the foolish girl I was at eighteen who didn’t have the sense to see what was right in front her. And I’m sorry for being so self-centered that I—”

  “Grace, I—”

  “Let me finish,” she said and placed a gentle finger against his mouth. She moved her hand to his cheek and held him there. “You are, without a doubt, the most amazing man I have ever known. You’re strong and honest and honorable and so incredibly kind. To love you...to be loved by you...is truly humbling.”

  “That’s very sweet, Grace,” he said and kissed her softly.

  “I’m not sweet at all,” she defied as their lips parted. “And you know it. In fact, you probably know me better than anyone.”

  “I know you’re in my heart, Grace. I know I love you more than I ever imagined I could love anyone.”

  “I love you, too,” she said and experienced a swell of love so deep, and so rich, it tore the breath from her throat. “For so long I’ve been afraid to truly feel anything. I had my career and let that define me...I let that be all that I was. But I was hollow inside.” She gripped his hands. “You saved me,” she said quietly. “You saved me when I came back and didn’t know how tell my family about the accident. You saved me by letting me tutor Emily, which showed me how good it feels to really do something for someone else. And you saved me every time you held me and made me feel less broken. When I think of how close I came to making the wrong choice...” She shuddered.

  He brought her hands to his lips and kissed them softly. “You’re here now. We’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

  “But I—”

  “No buts,” he insisted and smiled. “Although now is probably a good time to talk about the flight I just booked to New York.”

  Grace’s eyes filled with more tears. “You...you were coming to see me?”

  He smiled warmly. “Of course. To see you—or to bring you back—or live there with you. Either way, Grace, being apart from you was never an option.”

  “But you didn’t say anything like that before.”

  “I’m an idiot,” he said flatly. “And too proud to admit I was afraid of rejection. You knew that,” he said as he touched her face. “You asked me why I help kids like Dylan and I wasn’t honest with you. I don’t think I really understood why until the other day. All my life I’ve felt like I had to somehow make up for my biological father running out on me and my mother, as though in some way it would make the hurt go away.” He clutched her hands and his voice broke with emotion as he said the words. “And it stopped me from being truly grateful for the father I have.”

  “You do have a good father,” she assured him.

  He kissed her softly. “I know. And, Grace, if you want to go to back to New York, if you want that promotion, then we’ll go—together. And if you want to stay in Crystal Point, we’ll stay.”

  Grace closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again he was watching her with blistering intensity. “I want to stay,” she replied. “I want to marry you and live in your house. I want us to take Jed for long walks along the beach. I want to share our life with our families. I want to be at your side in this community and help kids like Dylan and Emily. And one day soon, I want to have your baby.”

  He raised a brow. “You want kids? You really do?”

  What she wanted had never seemed clearer. “I really do.”

  He kissed her. Long and sweet and filled with love. “I love you, Grace, so much.”

  She smiled, remembering what Pat had said to her.

  There’s a lot to be said about the love of a good man.

  Yes, Grace thought as she pressed against him, there certainly was.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from The Maverick’s Summer Love by Christyne Butler

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Special Edition story.

  You know that romance is for life. Harlequin Special Edition stories show that every chapter in a relationship has its challenges and delights and that love can be renewed with each turn of the page.

  Enjoy six new stories from Harlequin Special Edition every month!

  Visit Harlequin.com to find your next great read.

  We like you—why not like us on Facebook: Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks

  Follow us on Twitter: Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks

  Read our blog for all the latest news on our authors and books: HarlequinBlog.com

  Subscribe to our newsletter for special offers, new releases, and more!

  Harlequin.com/newsletters

  Chapter One

  “Well, aren’t you the picture of domestic bliss.”

  Dean Pritchett didn’t look up from his e-reader. Even though his most recent download was an old favorite he’d already read numerous times, there was no need. He had a feeling his brother wasn’t done yet.

  “Hmm, you seem to be enjoying that spin cycle a bit too much,” Nick continued, his voice laced with typical sarcastic humor. “I think you’ve been cooped up in this trailer too long, little brother.”

  Shifting his weight as the decades-old washing machine beneath him finally switched into high speed, Dean stayed put despite his brother’s teasing. He’d learned the first weekend of staying in this government-sponsored mobile home that perching something heavy, like himself, on top was the only way to keep the appliance from dancing across the tiny laundry room’s floor during the last cycle.

  “You’re just jealous because I got here first.”

  “I’d rather do my ‘spinning’ the old-fashioned way.” Nick propped one shoulder against the open doorway. “And it’s about time you did, too.”

  He finally looked up. “I’ll pass. Thanks.”

  “Wrong answer, bud. T
hat might’ve worked when Dad and Cade were still here, but now I need a new wingman.”

  Dean stared at his brother. He was the shortest of all the Pritchett kids, but built like a football player. All muscle. He had the same blond hair and blue eyes as their oldest brother and baby sister, unlike Dean who had inherited their mother’s deep green color.

  Nick also had the charms that made sure he was rarely at a loss for company.

  “You haven’t needed a wingman since you were fourteen,” Dean said, “and came home with the phone numbers of three cheerleaders in your pocket. All seniors.”

  Nick returned his smile. “Yeah, those were the days. But if you think I’m going to let you sit here and stare at that gadget all night—” he snatched the tablet from Dean’s hand “—you’re wrong.”

  “Hey!”

  “At least tell me you’re reading something hot like the latest issue of Biker Babes Gone Wild—” He peered at the screen, then guffawed. “Wait, The Collected Works of Jane Austen? That’s chick stuff.”

  “Jane Austen is a literary giant,” Dean shot back. “Her work is classic and timeless and she was Mom’s favorite author. She gave me my first book.”

  “Okay, professor. At least it’s not Shake-N-Stir.”

  The washing machine ended its run. Dean hopped down and reclaimed his e-reader, flipping the cover closed to put it to sleep. “That’s Shakespeare, you doof.”

  “Whatever.” Nick pushed away from the door. “Come on, it’s time to put the books away and suck down a few cold ones. And change that shirt.”

  Dean looked down at his gray T-shirt with the big block letters stating REAL MEN READ. “Abby gave this to me at Christmas. And it’s the last clean shirt I have.”

  Nick eyed the pile of freshly folded laundry before yanking a snap-front Western-style shirt still warm from the dryer and tossed it at him. “Here, put this on. Girls in Rust Creek Falls love cowboys.”