Epilogue #2
“So bossy.” Declan slid his hands up her arms, lowered her hands back in front of her.
She booed his actions, making him chuckle.
“Calm down. I need you there for this next part.” Fishing in his pocket, he drew out the ring and held it in his fist. “My mom’s idea—which, I’ll have you know, was my idea first—was for us to get married.” Then he knelt and held the ring in his open palm.
Lily’s eyes went from the ring to him, and they were big and bright and round. “Are you serious?”
He nodded.
With a reverence and awe, she picked up the one-carat amethyst—perfect for his non-traditional woman.
Slipping it on her finger, she held it up and examined it, a huge smile overtaking her face.
“Yes!” Then she knelt right there in front of him, tackling him until his back hit the tree.
She kissed him with the same fervor she did everything else.
He laughed against her lips. “Yes, what? I didn’t actually get a chance to ask you anything.” Lowering himself to the ground, he pulled her into his lap.
“Oh. Right.” She blinked up at him. “Well, go ahead.”
“ So , so bossy.” Another kiss planted firmly on her lips. “Lily Ann Hart, I love you more than I love classic chocolate fudge.”
She giggled. “And we know that’s a lot.”
“We do indeed. So would you bring all manner of chaos and joy into my life and become my wife?”
“Hmm. I need to think about it.” She grinned and gave him a wink. “Just kidding. Of course I will. Under one condition.”
“And what’s that?” He leaned down, drew his fingers through her silky hair, and nipped at her lips.
“You finally admit that I was right about your fudge being boring.”
Chuckling, he shook his head. “I guess if that’s what it takes to finally end this feud, then I’ll do it. For the good of our families.”
“And for the good of us.”
“Yes.” He sobered. “Because I will choose the good of us first, always. I promise you that, Lil.”
“I promise that too,” she whispered.
Declan cupped Lily’s face in his hands, his touch gentle and reverent. He gazed into her eyes, seeing his future reflected in their depths. Slowly, he leaned in, his lips meeting hers in a kiss that was soft and sweet and filled with assurance.
Lily’s eyes fluttered closed as she melted into the kiss, her hands coming to rest on his chest. The world around them faded away as the kiss deepened, a tender exploration that was just the beginning of things to come.
Summer on Jonathon Island had never felt so perfectly delicious.
* * *
Bonus Epilogue
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Want more Jonathon Island?
Return to Jonathon Island for more love and laughter in book 4, Meet Me on Blueberry Hill by Lisa Jordan.
The last thing Sadie Hudson expected to find on her grandmother's doorstep was a second chance at love—or another chance at heartbreak.
Copywriter-by-day Sadie Hudson used to dream of songwriting.
But that all changed when her sister died in a senseless tragedy five years ago.
Now, Sadie returns to Jonathon Island to help her beloved grandma Henrietta recover from surgery.
Because Sadie will do anything for family—even if it means returning to the one place her memories haunt her most.
But just as she begins to find peace in the island's tranquility, a fallen tree damages her grandmother's home, forcing her to accept help from Gran's gruff, mysterious neighbor.
Despite the way he cares for Gran, Sadie can't shake the feeling that Asher is keeping secrets, and after her last relationship ended in lies and betrayal, she's determined not to be fooled by another man.
But the more time she spends with Asher, the more she's drawn to him.
Asher Quinn has his own reasons for seeking solitude on Jonathon Island. Behind his hard work and generous spirit lies a past he longs to forget—one that could destroy any chance at the new life he's carefully constructed...especially when he discovers that he's the reason Sadie lost her sister.
Can two wounded souls find the courage to be honest with each other, or will the weight of their pasts destroy their chance at love before it truly begins?
Pre-order your copy from the Sunrise Shop for exclusive early access, or from your favorite retailer .
Keep reading for a sneak peek…
Meet Me on Blueberry Hill | Jonathon Island #4
Chapter 1
Asher Quinn just wanted the nightmares to stop.
Until he found redemption for the tragedies of his past, they would continue to haunt his sleep.
The sound of splintering wood, the creaking of timber, and a crash jerked him from the same dream that plagued him repeatedly for the past five years.
Sweat slicked his chest as he dragged a shaky hand over his weary face. He forced his ragged breathing to slow and stared into the darkness, trying to erase the images flickering through his head.
Impossible.
Nothing would remove the echoing screams or the sear of flames as he fought to escape his metal prison.
Thunder rumbled outside his bedroom window.
Lightning slashed, throwing brilliant light across the wooden floor.
The storm.
Triggers he didn’t expect to turn his gut to mush.
But he didn’t have time to wallow in the past. He needed to make sure Henrietta Hudson, his elderly neighbor recovering from hip replacement surgery, was safe.
He couldn’t have more deaths on his conscience.
Not your fault.
How many times had his counselor said that?
Lies.
Someday, he’d believe him.
Maybe.
Until then, knowing he couldn’t save them ate at his conscience.
He snatched an olive-colored T-shirt off the floor and jammed it over his head, his fingers scraping against the puckered skin along the left side of his neck.
Scars that served as a reminder.
He pulled on the tan cargo shorts he’d kicked off earlier, then shoved his feet in a pair of worn leather flip-flops.
Grabbing the flashlight kept by the door, he hurried down the stairs, through the house, and into the storm.
He raced to the stable to check on the few horses still on island. Scents of hay and warm animal flesh mingled with the steamy air fraught with storms that shook the island.
Jagged fingers of lightning sparked across the blackened sky, casting shadows over too many empty stalls.
Pegasus nickered.
He ran a hand over the Percheron’s muzzle. “Hey, Gus. It’s okay. The storm’ll be over shortly.”
Next to him, Ginger bumped his shoulder with her nose. “Hey, sweet girl. This isn’t your first storm. You’ll be okay.”
After giving each of them another pat, he plunged into the night air, dark as smoke, the light in his hand doing very little to shine a path through the storm.
Rain pelted his skin as he sprinted across the yard.
His feet slipped and he nearly face-planted in the soppy grass.
He kicked off his flip-flops and raced barefoot to his older neighbor’s front porch.
A long limb had smashed through the side railing of the white storybook cottage. He’d need to come back first thing in the morning to clear it and make sure there was no other damage.
Swiping water and hair off his face, he rang the doorbell. Barking sounded from inside the house. Georgie, Hetty’s Lhasa Apso, scratched the other side of the front door as the porch light flashed on.
Squinting against the glare, Asher gripped the doorframe and let out a breath.
She was fine.
The door yanked open.
But Hetty wasn’t standing in the doorway.
Asher took in the dark-haired woman a little younger than his thirty-three years and dressed in a gray tank top and navy running shorts that showed off long, shapely legs.
Her long hair tangled around her face. She tried to push it out of her eyes as she scooped up the barking dog.
“Georgie, that’s enough.” Then she squinted at him. “Yes? Can I help you?”
“Is Hetty okay?”
“Who?”
“Henrietta Hudson. She lives here. Is she okay?”
The woman cradled the dog against her chest. “Why do you want to know?”
He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I heard a tree come down, but it’s too dark to see anything. I just wanted to be sure Hetty’s okay.”
“My grandmother’s fine. She sleeps through anything. Doorbells too, apparently. I didn’t realize it was storming until now.”
“You’ve inherited that trait from your grandmother.” He tried to crack a smile, but her steely look showed she didn’t share his humor. He stepped back, hands up. “Sorry to disturb your sleep. Just wanted to make sure everyone was okay.”
“Yes, we are. Thanks for checking.” She shot him a sleepy smile, then started to close the door.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“What’s your name?”
“Sadie. Sadie Hudson.”
“The copywriter. Your grandma’s mentioned you.”
“And you are?”
“Asher Quinn.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I manage my aunt and uncle’s ranch next door.”
“Right, the reclusive neighbor. Gran mentioned you as well. Thanks for ensuring she was safe. That was kind of you, Asher.” This time she closed the door and secured the deadbolt in place.
A moment later, the overhead yellow glow from the porch light went out, shuttering him in darkness again.
Taking a deep breath, he exhaled loudly then launched into the rain.
Back at his aunt and uncle’s house, he padded up the stairs and to the large guest room that had become his over the past year.
He flicked on the lights, then shivered against the fan in the window.
He changed into dry clothes, then grabbed a towel out of the small bathroom and rubbed it over his head.
What he wouldn’t give for a cold beer.