One More Taste (One and Only Texas #2)(102)
Emily reached across the seat and took his hand. “You set him free.”
“I’m the one who’s been set free, Emily. By you.” Unsatisfied with merely holding her hand, he reached over and pulled her right alongside his hip and stretched his arm around her. “That’s better.”
Her gaze roved over the resort. “This is ours now. I still can’t believe it. We’re the keepers of the Briscoe legacy. And I’m not even a Briscoe yet.”
“Sounds like we’d better get that ring on your finger this December instead of waiting.”
“December? Does that mean you’re a believer in the resort’s holiday wedding magic now, too?”
“Consider me a new convert about how much magic’s in the air around here.”
She settled back in his arm and cupped his cheek, then gave him a slow, sweet kiss. “Who would’ve thought Knox Briscoe, businessman, self-made millionaire entrepreneur, would believe in ghosts and magic?”
“On the other hand, not everyone is lucky enough to drive a haunted truck, so I consider myself lucky to have been enlightened in that way. Ready to go meet our family for movie night?”
Emily sighed. “Ready as I’ll ever be, but how about we take the long way around, give this old truck a tour of the place? Plus, I’m not quite ready to share you yet tonight.”
With his arm still around Emily, Knox eased up on the brake and pressed the gas. The truck rolled forward, just as it was supposed to. He took his time going down the hill, feeling the breeze in his hair and soaking in every moment. He took a left at the bottom of the hill and drove them along the water, which had turned golden in the setting sun. Somewhere near the middle of the lake, movement caught his eye. He looked in time to watch a familiar silver carp splash back into the water.
Rising behind the hills, the moon shone down on the crystal clear night. And all around them, the sights and sounds and smells of Briscoe Ranch’s holiday season were in full effect. Laughing and cuddling, they kept driving, taking a slow, back road tour of their home, sweet home. Life just didn’t get any more magical than that.
Read on for an excerpt from Melissa Cutler’s next book
ONE WILD NIGHT
Coming soon from St. Martin’s Paperbacks
Chapter One
If only Skye Martinez could run a fever on command. Or, after a few bites of the eggplant parmesan that Mrs. Biaggi of Vito’s Eatery just delivered to the table, maybe she could fake food poisoning. Anything to get her out of this disaster of a blind date, the latest in a string of them. That was the trouble with living in a small Texas town. All the good men were taken—along with most of the bad ones too.
“And here’s your meatball, Sweetums,” Mrs. Biaggi said.
Sweetums, in this case, was Vince Biaggi, Skye’s date—and Mrs. Biaggi’s son.
Yeah.
Skye was gonna kill Granny June for this one.
“It looks great, as always, Mother,” Vince said, digging in. With a mouth full of meatball, he poked his fork in Skye’s direction. “Now you see why I wanted us to eat here. There’s no sense paying for dinner when we can eat for free.”
Naturally.
Mrs. Biaggi gave Skye a nudge and a wink. “Vince brings all his first dates here. It gives his Pops and me a chance to check out the merchandise.”
And now she was merchandise. Good to know.
She took a despairing glance at her phone, which she’s positioned strategically at the opening of her purse. Twenty minutes until her sister Gloria was scheduled to call, in case Skye needed to fake an emergency and escape. When she raised her gaze, it was find Vince and his mother beaming at her.
“Go on and try the eggplant parmesan,” Mrs. Biaggi said. “It’s been Vince’s favorite since he was just a little squirt.”
Skye made slow work of slicing the eggplant cutlet as her mind scrolled through possible ways to make Granny June pay. Maybe she’d reprogram the horn on Granny’s riding scooter to play chicken noises. Or set her up on a blind date disaster of her own. God knew there were plenty of toothless or senile senior men at Skye’s church. Or maybe Skye could get her mom to whip up one of her old world curses to turn Granny’s hair bright blue.
Then again, probably Granny June would approve of that one.
Granny June Briscoe was the matriarch of the family-owned Briscoe Ranch Resort where Skye’s family had worked for almost four decades, and where Skye worked in housekeeping. Usually, Granny June had a knack for matchmaking—which was the only reason Skye had agreed go on a date with the son of one of Granny’s Bingo buddies. Well, that, and the fact that Skye had made a decision to abandon her rebellious nature and settle down like the good Catholic woman she was raised to be.
She had a bite of food halfway to her lips when, miracle of miracles, her phone chimed with an incoming text. It was all she could do to hide her relief.
“Oh Gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize I’d left the volume on. Excuse me,” she murmured with a smile of apology as she set her fork down and lifted the phone.
The text read, This wedding is bananas crazy.
It wasn’t from her sister, but from her friend Remedy, the head wedding planner at Briscoe Ranch. In Skye’s ample experience at the resort, all weddings fell somewhere on the crazy spectrum, so tonight’s affair would have to be extra gonzo for Remedy to text something like that.