Chapter 53
Ava
For a long while, Harrison and I just walk along the harbor. No destination. Just us.
I feel wrung out. Betrayed. Used by people who were supposed to be protecting me.
“I’m sorry I’m not very good company,” I say finally.
He tightens his hold until our steps fall in sync. “You were deceived by people you should’ve been able to trust.”
I poke him in the ribs. “You’re not off the hook, mister.” I look up at him, smiling softly. “You and Gabe kept some notes from me.”
He lets out a long breath, then kisses the top of my head. “You’re right.”
I don’t let it go. Not with good cop, bad cop still buzzing through my system.
“Whose idea was it?” I press. I’m almost positive it was Gabe’s.
But the two of them are SEAL brothers.
Ride or die.
And I love that they’re so close.
“You’ll have to torture it out of me,” he murmurs. “With your tongue.”
There he is.
My lumberjack.
God, I’ve missed him.
“Maybe I will,” I say, leaning into him. “If you tell me what the text I sent you said.”
“The text?” He pretends to not know what I’m talking about.
The text I sent him. When I didn’t know it was him. When I thought I was crashing with one of Gabe’s friends and wanted the night with half-naked Harrison to last just a little longer.
We’re at the very end of the marina, where the dock narrows and the water stretches out forever. The sun is sinking lazily over the sea.
It’s the perfect end to a jacked-up day.
Or it would be, if the kids were here.
“I love you, Pix,” Harrison says, his voice so full of feeling it trembles.
“I love you, Lumberjack.” I kiss him, slow and sure, then pull back just enough to look at those heart-melting eyes. “What did the text say?”
“The text…” He drags the word out slowly.
“Tell me,” I beg, batting my lashes up at him.
He looks down at me, something warm and fond softening his eyes. “Jesus,” he murmurs. “You’re laying it on thick.” A corner of his mouth lifts. “You’re worse than the kids.”
He smiles, pulls out his phone, and presses it into my hand. “Read it for yourself.”
I look down at the screen.
Pix
Hi, this is Gabe’s sister.
Sorry I’m running late.
Will bring donuts in the morning.
Had to see a lumberjack about some wood.
I slap a hand over my face, mortified, laughing so hard my eyes sting. “I did not say that.”
“Oh, I have written proof,” he says, far too pleased with himself. Then his mouth curves with wicked satisfaction. “But it gets better.”
He taps the phone.
And I keep reading.
PS. Pretty sure I’m marrying him.
I stare at the words, heart pounding, blinking through tears.
Then, I smile.
“It’s like I’m clairvoyant,” I tease.
“You certainly are.” His lips feather mine. “Mrs. Evans.”
We kiss, and damn, can this man kiss. It’s so full of feeling and emotion, I’m about to burst.
Mrs. Evans.
God. It has a nice ring.
Our kiss gets plowed apart when the kids tackle us, laughter bursting like candy from a pinata.
“You brought the kids?” I ask, tearing up and smiling so hard, I’m about to burst.
“More of a stowaway situation,” he says, kissing me again.
And again.
And for a long time, we all just hug. Soaked in happiness. And love. So much love.
I love this man.
I love these kids.
I don’t even care that by the end of the week, my career might be just another pile of rubble on Hollywood Boulevard.
Because I’m over it.
Screw the headlines.
My lumberjack is here.
And so are the kids. Three beautiful children I’ve missed so much, I couldn’t breathe.
And every time he flashes that grin, or the kids tackle me with the full force of their joy, I’m reminded again and again that that crazy, lopsided poster hanging in the bachelor auction dressing room was right.
And so was Mamá.
Love doesn’t pass you by.
It collides.
Hard.
* * *
Thank you for reading SEALED. I hope you’ve loved Pix and her lumberjack as much as I do.