Betting on You (22 page)

“Yes,” he whispered into her hair as the other customers began to applaud. “I will marry you, Lark March. I will marry you and work my ass off to make you the happiest woman in Georgia, or anywhere else.”

“You already have,” Lark said, pulling back to look into his face. “I’m so sorry for the way I acted. I was being an idiot.”

“No you weren’t.”

“Yes, I was,” she said. “I know that now.”

“Well, nobody’s perfect,” he said. “But you’re pretty damned close.”

And then he kissed her, summoning another wave of applause and happy laughter from the rest of the restaurant, but after a moment, Mason could barely hear them. He was having a hard time paying attention to anything but the feel of Lark’s lips warm and alive against his own, the sweet taste of her filling his mouth, and the love of his future wife swirling in the air around him, making him feel like the luckiest man in the world.

Lark pulled away with a giggle. “You should put me down,” she whispered. “Before this turns too PG-13 for a Sunday morning brunch spot.”

“This is the best Sunday morning brunch spot,” Mason said, setting her down and taking the ring box from her hand, grateful that most of the other brunch patrons had returned their attention to their cooling breakfasts. “You’re going to love it.”

He pulled the ring from the box, glancing at the inscription—
Betting on You, Now and Always
—with a smile.

“You like it?” Lark asked as he slid it on his finger.

“I love it,” he said, taking her hand. “Now we just have to get you something big enough to blind people at fifty feet and we’ll be set.”

“I don’t need a diamond big enough to blind people,” Lark said, squeezing his hand. “I just need you.”

Mason leaned in, unable to resist pressing another quick kiss to her lips before spinning to grab his paper and notebook. He dug a few bills from his wallet and tossed them on the table, but when he turned back to Lark, he found her pulling out the chair across from him and picking up one of the paper menus tucked between the salt and pepper shakers.

“What?” Lark’s eyebrows lifted at his surprised look. “You’re not going to leave that omelet uneaten, are you? It looks amazing. And I smell pancakes. Really good pancakes with real syrup.”

Mason smiled, wondering how it was that he could keep loving her more. “You want me to order you some pancakes?”

“I wouldn’t turn up my nose at a pancake,” she said, lifting one bare shoulder. “That’s all I’m saying.”

Mason sat back down, scooting his chair next to Lark’s, putting his arm around her and pulling her close. She leaned into him with a happy sigh; he kissed the top of her head.

“All right, how about you help me eat this omelet before it gets cold, and I’ll split a stack of the harvest pancakes with you,” he said. “Sound like a deal?”

“Sounds perfect,” she said, tipping her face up to his, practically glowing with happiness.

“And then we’ll go ring shopping and find something you won’t mind wearing for another fifty years or so.”

She smiled. “That sounds even better.”

“Yes, it does,” Mason agreed.

It sounded pretty damned perfect, in fact, like the beginning of the life he’d always wanted, a life filled with love and laughter and a beautiful girl who was his very best friend.

“And then we’ll go back to your place,” Lark whispered. “I want to see that new bedroom furniture your letter said you bought last week.”

“If you don’t like it, we can take it back,” Mason said. “I saved the receipt.”

Lark rolled her eyes and laughed beneath her breath. “I couldn’t care less about the furniture, Mason,” she whispered. “I only want to see the bed. And you in the bed. And me in the bed with you.”

Mason’s heart started racing all over again as he pulled her closer. “Have I mentioned that you are incredibly sexy and I love you so much it’s probably illegal in some parts of the world?”

“Not today,” Lark said with a grin, before turning to the waiter who had appeared at their table and proceeding to order twice as much food as they’d agreed upon in a very assured, very sexy voice.

Mason watched her with a smile, loving her more with every passing minute, certain he’d already won the prize, no more betting required.

Did you enjoy
Betting on You
?

Check out more sexy, contemporary romances by Jessie Evans:

Keeping You
(Always a Bridesmaid 2)

Wild For You
(Always a Bridesmaid 3)

Catching You
(A Summerville Short Story, Always a Bridesmaid 4)

Taking You
(A Summerville Novella, Always a Bridesmaid 5)

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…
or keep reading to enjoy a sample chapter of
Keeping You,
Aria and Nash’s story!

About the Author

Jessie Evans gave up a career as an international woman of mystery (and traditionally published author) to write the sexy, contemporary Southern romances she always wanted to read.

She's married to the man of her dreams, and together they're raising a few adorable, mischievous children in a tree house in the boonies. She grew up in rural Arkansas, spending summers running wild, being chewed by chiggers, and now appreciates her home in a chigger-free part of the world even more. 

When she's not writing, Jessie enjoys playing her dulcimer (badly), sewing the worlds ugliest quilts to give to her friends, going for bike rides with her house full of boys, and wandering through the woods, glass of wine and camera in hand, on the lookout for Bigfoot.

A Southern girl, born and bred, Jessie loves writing Southern romances with just the right amount of sizzle, and hopes you'll enjoy her stories set in the fictional town of Summerville, Georgia. Especially the "Always a Bridesmaid" series!

Please enjoy this excerpt of
Keeping You

By Jessie Evans

Prologue

Aria slipped through the woods on silent feet, her heartbeat louder than the cicadas buzzing and clicking in the trees.

It was almost too dark to see the trail, she didn’t have a flashlight, and it was against every rule in the camp handbook for her to be out of her cabin after lights out. If she were caught, she would be thrown out of camp in disgrace. Mama and Daddy were on the board of the Arts Council that helped fund the camp, but Aria was pretty sure even that wouldn’t help her avoid the ultimate punishment.

She really didn’t want to be sent home—her two best friends were here, camp meant another four weeks away from her bratty little sisters, Lark and Melody, and she was having the time of her life sketching and painting and experimenting with new mediums during her five hours of daily art classes. She loved camp
Arts Under the Elms
, and wouldn’t put her future here at risk for anything.

Anything except
him
.

Nash Geary.

Just thinking his name was enough to make her shiver all over. He was the most delicious boy she had ever met—taller than all the other boys at camp by at least five inches, built like a contestant straight out of some ancient Olympics, with moody green eyes a shade lighter than her own and a silky Georgia drawl she could feel brushing over her skin like warm satin.

He was flat out, no holds barred, drop dead
gorgeous
.

Every girl at camp had had her eye on him the first day, but by the time the sixty-five young artists selected for the competitive summer intensive walked through the dinner line to pick up their burgers and hot dogs, Nash had made it clear he only had eyes for the redhead with the long, straight hair and the tie-dyed dress swirling around her skinny white legs.

Aria had dated more than her share of cute boys—especially considering she was not quite sixteen, and still not allowed to go on car dates—but she had never caught the eye of someone as close to a full-grown man as Nash. She knew she was pretty, with clear, pale skin, deep green eyes, and red hair that had darkened to a flattering auburn after her twelfth birthday, but no matter how much she ate, she stayed a little too skinny. Heck, she barely filled out an A cup.

Meanwhile, Nash was six foot four, muscled all over, with hands big enough to wrap all the way around Aria’s waist, and an aura that practically seethed experience.

She had no doubt that he’d gone all the way with at least one girl, maybe more.

At first, she had wondered what he saw in a scrawny thing like her, a girl who still looked like a twelve-year old if she made the mistake of forgetting to slip the padding into her two-piece swimsuit. But then they’d started talking and things had just…clicked.

Within a few hours, they were cracking jokes like old friends, making each other laugh so hard they snorted Coke out their noses. By the third day, they were taking long walks together during their free time after dinner—talking about their lives back home and school and family and which bands they liked and art and everything else—and by the fifth day they were stealing kisses behind the mess hall dumpsters before lights out.

And what kisses they were…

Just thinking about them made Aria’s body hum and her footsteps move faster along the path, already anticipating the deep, mind-numbing kiss waiting for her in the clearing where she and Nash had agreed to meet tonight.

Kissing Nash was heaven and hell all at the same time, enough to make her soul light up with joy and every cell in her body ache with a hunger that was almost painful. Up until now, kissing and some light over-the-clothes action had been all she had been interested in with the boys she dated, but now…

Now she wanted Nash’s big hands to slide underneath her t-shirt. She wanted to feel her bare skin pressed against his. She wanted to let him touch her wherever he wanted,
do
whatever he wanted, because she knew anything she did with Nash would feel amazing, perfect, and so, so right.

It had only been three weeks, but she was ready for Nash to be her first. She could feel how much he cared about her, and she had never been so completely gone on a boy. In her secret thoughts, she had imagined growing up to have a string of gorgeous lovers, each one more dashing and dangerous than the last, but now a part of her wondered what it would be like to find “the one” the first time around, to spend her life making love to only one man.

When the man in question was Nash, the possibility didn’t seem boring or typical. Not in the slightest.

“Hey,” he whispered, moving out of the shadows at the edge of the clearing as she finally arrived at their meeting spot.

Aria smiled and skipped the last few steps off the path and into his arms. He picked her up with a soft moan she felt vibrate through her bones, and kissed her, long and hard, until her breath was coming faster and that delicious hunger rose inside.

“I was beginning to think you’d changed your mind,” he whispered against her mouth, as his hands wandered down to cup her bottom in his big hands.

Aria’s throat constricted and an electric jolt surged through her in response. “No,” she said, breath already coming faster. “I just had to wait until Molly fell asleep. She was reading in her bunk forever.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Nash murmured. “I’ve been dying to be alone with you.”

They kissed for another long minute, until the clearing was filled with the sounds of their swiftly drawn breath and soft sighs and moans, and Aria’s head was spinning.

Finally she pulled away. “Did you bring…something?” she asked, feeling a little nervous for the first time.

“Yes ma’am,” Nash drawled in that silky voice of his. “I brought a blanket from the storage room. It’s over here.” He took her hand and pulled her deeper into the shadows.

As Aria’s eyes adjusted, she saw a dark gray camp blanket spread out on the grass. She let Nash pull her down onto the blanket next to him, rolling her beneath him with a calm assurance that made her blood pressure spike, but when he moved to kiss her again, she put a finger on his lips.

“I didn’t mean the blanket,” she whispered in a shaky voice. “I meant…something.”