For five days following the wedding, Roman barely existed, trapped in his own personal hell. The hell he had created. Again. He hadn’t eaten or slept. He hadn’t been back to work. He’d basically wandered around the house in a daze, trying to figure out a way to fix this, and coming up with nothing.
Sutton had been wrong about her forgiving him. And as every new day passed, he knew it was less and less likely that he would ever hear from her again. In his efforts to protect Gracie he’d hurt her so deeply that she had completely shut him out.
It hadn’t been the first time, but it would definitely be the last. She was clearly done with him. She wouldn’t even let him explain, and he didn’t blame her. Why would she?
He needed to pack her things so he could send them to her, but he hadn’t been able to make himself do it. Everything was exactly as she’d left it, and there wasn’t a square inch of his home that didn’t remind him of her. It didn’t even feel like home anymore. Not without her there. She’d left her mark indelibly on his entire world. He would have to sell his house and move if he was ever going to have a chance of forgetting her. But he doubted even that would work.
But at least she was safe, and protected from prosecution. At least he had given her that. And she would never know how much, and for how long, he had loved her. It hadn’t even been clear to him until he lost her.
Around two his doorbell rang, and for a second he felt an actual sliver of hope that it might be her, but that was just him living in a fantasy world. She was gone. Out of his life. And the sooner he accepted that the better off he would be.
But when he opened the door, he was sure that he was hallucinating from lack of sleep, because that couldn’t possibly be Gracie standing there on his porch. She looked up at him, her face expressionless, as if she were waiting for him to say something.
All he could come up with was “Back for your things?”
Without warning she launched herself at him so forcefully he stumbled backward, and when she wrapped her arms around him, Roman was so stunned that for a second he didn’t even hug her back.
Now he knew he had to be hallucinating. But when he pulled her close to him, she couldn’t have felt more real. He buried his face in the softness of her hair and breathed her in.
Yep, she was definitely there. The question was why.
“I’m sorry,” she said, holding on tight. “I’m so sorry.”
Wait. What?
She was sorry? That made no sense. He must have misheard.
He peeled her away from him and held her at arm’s length, managing a dumbfounded-sounding “What?”
“I said I’m sorry.”
Was this some kind of sick joke she was playing on him? “What could you possibly have done to be sorry for? I’m the one who’s sorry. I lied to you.”
“And I loved you, and that I trusted you, then I didn’t even give you a chance to explain. I was so angry and so hurt that all I cared about was protecting myself. I didn’t even think about you and how hard it must have been keeping that from me. And the risk you took to keep me safe.”
He wanted to pinch himself to make sure that he was actually awake.
“I wish I could take credit for realizing what I was doing, but it took a talking-to from my father to open my eyes.”
Wait a minute...it was Sutton who’d saved his ass?
Looking crushed, she said, “I let you down and I’m sorry.”
“You think you let me down?” he asked incredulously. Maybe she was the one hallucinating. “I let you down.”
She shook her head. “No, you didn’t. You probably saved my life. I was just too stupid to see it. But I see it now, and I’m begging you to give me another chance.”
She was the one begging? “Gracie, I should be begging you. And I would have, but I didn’t think... I just assumed you would never want to speak to me again.”
“Like the last time,” she said, and he nodded. “This is different. I know that, deep in my soul. You’re my forever. My home.”
He cradled her face in his hands and kissed her softly. “And you’re mine. You always have been.”
She gazed up at him with a smile. “So does that mean you’ll give me a second chance?”
“Yes, of course I will,” he said, pulling her into his arms. And a third and a fourth and a fifth chance. Anything to keep her in his life, because she was his everything. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to marry you, and have a family with you. It’s what I’ve always wanted.”
“Me, too,” she said. “And if that’s a proposal my answer is yes.”
He grinned. “Sweetheart, when I formally propose you’ll know it. I’m pulling out all the stops. I want to do this right.”
She deserved the best, and that’s what he would give her. And though he’d thought for sure that he’d ruined it, she was giving him another chance, too. A second chance at the love of a lifetime.
* * * * *
The Texan’s One-Night Standoff
Charlene Sands
One night leads to a pregnancy bombshell! Only from USA TODAY bestselling author Charlene Sands.
Chicago real estate hotshot Brooks Newport is on a quest to find his true father. But tracking him to a small Texas town puts Brooks on a collision course with horse trainer Ruby Lopez. After a no-strings-attached night together, he’s on his way.
When Brooks finally meets the father he never knew, he must come to grips with the past—and the very shocking present. Because Ruby works for the man. And she has a secret of her own—not only is Brooks finding his father, he’s about to become one!
The Texan’s One-Night Standoff is part of the Dynasties: The Newports series.
To my very talented editor, Charles Griemsman,
who is also a wonderful person and someone
I call friend. Thanks, Charles, for all you do!
Brooks Newport swiveled around on the bar stool at the C’mon Inn, his gaze fastening on the raven-haired Latina beauty bending over a pool table, challenging her opponent with a fiercely competitive glint in her eyes. With blue jeans hugging her hips and a cropped red plaid blouse exposing her olive skin, the lady made his mouth go dry. He wasn’t alone. Every Stetson-wearing Texan in the joint seemed to be watching her, too.
His hand fisting around the bottle, Brooks took a sip of beer, gulping down hard. The woman’s moves around the pool table were as smooth and as polished as his new Justin boots.
“Five ball, corner pocket,” she said, her voice sultry with a side of sass, as if she knew she wasn’t going to miss. Then she took her shot. The cue ball met its mark and sure enough, the five ball rolled right into the pocket.
She straightened to full height, her chest expanding to near button-popping proportions. She couldn’t have been more than five-foot-two, but what she had in that small package was enough to make him break out in a sweat. And that was saying something, since he’d come to Texas for one reason, and one reason only.
To meet his biological father for the first time in his life.
He’d spent the