Once in a Lifetime(88)

“Thanks,” he said.

“But the two years I stole,” Aubrey said. It hurt her to even say it, but she had to get it out, all of it. There could be no more secrets. “What about them?”

He shook his head. “I mentioned I was an ass, right? I never should’ve blamed you for that—”

“But I—”

“Yeah, you did,” he said. “And then I went on to make the most of those two years. It’s over and done, Aubrey,” he promised. “And anyway, I’m hoping if I play my cards right, you’re going to give me a lifetime.”

This cause a huge gasp from the crowd, and Aubrey matched it with one of her own. “What?” she whispered, certain she’d heard wrong.

He dropped to a knee.

“Oh, my God.” She put her hands to her mouth and stared down at him.

“You’re everything I need,” he said. “Everything I’ll ever need. And I’ve needed you, Aubrey, for a long time. Every single second since you threw that drink in my face.”

She choked out a half laugh, half sob. “You never said—”

“I should have. Another mistake,” he said, his expression serious. “The good news is that I learn from my mistakes, always. Marry me, Aubrey. Marry me and give me forever.”



She felt her eyes go wide. Felt her heart kick hard. From her peripheral vision she was aware that the entire crowd had surged forward to peek over the counter in order to get a look at Ben McDaniel on one knee.

“Are you going to reject me in front of at least one hundred of our closest friends and family?” he asked lightly.

She looked into his eyes and realized he wasn’t nearly as calm, cool, and unruffled as he was pretending to be, and it squeezed her heart. “No,” she said.

His expression grew very serious, and there was absolute silence in the room. “No,” he repeated, clearly trying to figure out what exactly she was saying no to—the proposal or rejecting him.

Letting out a laugh, Aubrey dropped to her knees in front of him, eyes burning as she met his gaze. “I mean yes.”

“So…yes you’ll marry me, or yes you’re rejecting me?”

“Yeah, honey,” Lucille piped up, leaning over the counter. “There’s a pretty big difference there.”

“Yes, I’ll marry you.” Leaning into him, Aubrey wrapped her arms around Ben’s neck as their audience broke out in applause.

“Shh!” Lucille snapped above them. “I can’t hear; I want to hear!”

“There’s nothing more to hear,” Aubrey said, eyes on Ben. “It’s all been said.”

Ben’s eyes smiled first, and then the smile spread to his mouth. And then he lowered that smiling mouth and kissed hers.

“You’ve given me so much,” she said against him. “What do you get?”

His eyes soaked her up, as though maybe he’d never get enough of her. “You.”





Commercial jingle writer Becca Thorne is looking for inspiration in Lucky Harbor.



Sam Brody might be just what she needs…





Please turn this page for a preview of





It’s in His Kiss.





Chapter 1





Oh, yeah,” Becca Thorne murmured with a sigh of pleasure as she wriggled her toes in the wet sand. The sensation was better than splurging on a rare pedicure. Better than finding the perfect dress on sale. Better than…well, she’d say “orgasms,” but it’d been a while, and she couldn’t remember for sure.

“You’re perfect,” she said to the Pacific Ocean, munching on the ranch-flavored popcorn she’d bought on the pier. “So perfect that I’d marry you and have your babies if I hadn’t already promised myself to my e-reader.”

“Not even going to ask.”

At the deep male voice behind her, Becca squeaked and whipped around, spilling some of the precious popcorn.

She’d thought she was alone on the rocky beach lined with stacks of mossy sandstone towers. Alone with her thoughts, her hopes, her fears, and all her worldly possessions—which were stuffed into her car parked in the lot behind her.

But she wasn’t alone at all, because not ten feet away, between her and a huge Ferris wheel on the pier, stood a man. He wore a skintight rash guard T-shirt and loose board shorts, both dripping wet and clinging to his very hot bod. He had a surfboard tucked under a bicep like it weighed nothing, and just looking at him had her pulse doing a little tap dance.

Maybe it was his unruly sun-kissed brown hair, the strands more than a little wild and blowing in his face. Maybe it was the face itself, which was striking for its features carved in granite and its set of sage-colored eyes that held her prisoner. Or maybe it was that he carried himself like he knew he was at the top of the food chain.

It didn’t matter because the wary city girl in her didn’t trust anyone, not even a sexy-looking surfer dude. Taking a few steps backward, she thought about the Swiss Army knife she’d left in her car.

The man didn’t react, didn’t seem bothered by her retreat at all, other than the slightest tilt of the corners of his mouth. “You okay?” he asked, voice a little gruff but not aggressive.