She moved slightly and he saw that she was on the phone. Probably with Alyssa. At one point, he’d feared Mac’s involvement would drive a wedge between the two friends, but if anything, it’d only brought them closer together.
He’d tried, unsuccessfully, to convince Alyssa to move to Washington with them. He’d requested and been granted an extension on his start date. Alyssa, on the other hand, had been placed on administrative leave. He’d been livid and tried explaining to the police how, without Alyssa, he and Janie would probably not be alive. But his pleas fell on deaf ears.
One day, when he’d been in a particularly foul mood, he’d asked Alyssa why the hell she’d want to waste her life working for a department that clearly didn’t value her. She’d given him that same calm smile that had driven him mad when they had been working together to find Janie. The smile he now realized was just an extension of her deeply held sense of purpose.
She said she’d made a promise when she was younger. An impractical, fantastical promise, perhaps—the kind that only the young who knew no better would make. But it was a promise, nonetheless, and one she wasn’t going to break. He’d asked Janie if she had any idea what promise Alyssa had made. She’d simply said she had no idea, but that it must be deeply personal for her friend to have never mentioned it.
He opened the door to the front porch, and Janie turned and smiled. Without taking her eyes off him, she said into the phone, “Let me call you back, Alyssa.”
During those awful hours when Mac had held her hostage, he’d vowed to never take a moment they had together for granted. Today, he planned to expand on that vow. He held out his hand. “Go with me on a walk?”
“The movers are coming this evening. Shouldn’t we finish packing?” But she took his hand anyway.
“We’ll finish after our walk.” He knew she was probably confused. After all, the night before, he’d complained to her about all the things they had to accomplish. Truthfully, though, the way he saw it, only one task absolutely had to be completed and for that to happen, she had to go with him.
* * *
Hand in hand, they walked in silence. For the first few weeks following everything, he’d questioned her constantly whenever he thought she’d been too quiet. It had only been when she’d told him she was fine and she’d never lied to him so she’d tell him if she wasn’t okay, that he realized he himself hadn’t come through everything as unscathed as he’d thought.
They didn’t have to walk too far to make it to where his surprise waited. He thought it a bit funny when she mentioned it first.
“Wonder what that carriage is doing here?” she asked. “They don’t normally pick people up on this street.”
“I believe,” he said, unable to hide his smile, “that it’s waiting for us.”
“What?”
“You didn’t think I was going to let you move out of Charleston without ever taking a carriage ride, did you?”
“It’s really for us?” she asked almost too softly for him to hear.
A lone tear made its way down her cheek and he wiped it away with his thumb. “Yes.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted her head to give him a soft kiss. “Thank you.”
He returned the kiss and by then the driver stood to the side. He shook Brent’s hand, helped them inside, and they were off. Brent couldn’t keep his eyes off Janie. She was always beautiful to him, but today she exuded joy, and it had been so long since she’d done so.
For the first part of their ride, Brent simply watched her and it was as if she were experiencing her home city for the first time. Every so often, she’d give his hand a squeeze or he’d point out something that caught his eye. Who’d have thought playing tourist would be so much fun?
“Is everything okay?” Janie asked as the driver pulled off to the side in a quiet secluded spot of the park about ten minutes into their ride.
Though a family of butterflies had taken up residence in Brent’s belly, in this he was able to confirm that everything was fine. The driver tied the horse to a nearby post and came to the side of the carriage.
“Beg your pardon,” he said. “I have an urgent matter to attend to, but I’ll be back in about ten minutes.”
Janie watched him walk away and frowned. “I don’t think they’re supposed to do that.”
They do if you pay them enough. But Brent didn’t voice that thought. After all, he only had ten minutes. “It’s fine.”
“How do you know?” Janie was still watching the path their driver had disappeared down. From the looks of it, she wasn’t going to be satisfied simply because he said so.
“Janie,” he said, and when she didn’t move or turn his way, he tried again. “Janie, look at me.” She shifted her gaze and the worried look in her eyes pained him. “Everything’s fine. The driver took off like that because I asked him when I booked the carriage to give us some privacy.”
He hadn’t planned a speech or anything, having decided that the direct approach was the best. Making sure she kept her attention on him, he slid off the bench seat and knelt before her on one knee. All traces of confusion and any lingering worry left her expression and her hands flew up to cover her mouth.
His own smile came easy now that she had an idea of what he was doing. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the pale blue box that had been burning a hole in his pants. “Janie,” he started, opening the box. “It’s true we haven’t known each other long and while I’ve never been a man to rush into anything, I’ve also never been able to hold back when I know something is right. And, Janie, we’re right. I have no doubts.”
She nodded in agreement with every word he said and her eyes were wet with unshed tears.
“Janie Roberts,” he said. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she answered in a near whisper. And then repeated louder, “Yes!” She dropped her eyes to look in the box and gasped. He, of course, knew exactly what she saw. He’d known the second he saw it that the ring was for her.
A simple solitaire, set in platinum. She wouldn’t have liked anything fancy; that wouldn’t have matched her personality. Instead, the unadorned setting allowed the brilliance of the diamond to be seen and admired. He realized he was grinning from ear to ear as he took the ring from the box and slipped it on her finger.
He didn’t have time to take a seat on the bench before she hauled him to sit beside her. Her arms flew around him and his followed, pulling her close.
“I love you,” she said.
He gave her a gentle kiss. “I love you.”
There was no more time for words as his lips found hers again and this time, their kiss was neither gentle nor short. Rather, it was a kiss of passion that whispered of a future filled with love and joy and desire. They were so caught up in the other that the driver, upon his return, had to cough repeatedly to get their attention.
“Would you like to continue your ride?” he asked.
Janie lifted her head only slightly. “No, but we won’t complain if you have something else you need to take care of.”
From St. Martin’s Paperbacks
www.stmartins.com
ALSO BY TARA THOMAS
SONS OF BROAD
DARKEST NIGHT
DEADLY SECRET
E-NOVELLAS
SHATTERED FEAR
HIDDEN FATE
TWISTED END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tara Thomas’s love of books and writing started as a child and though she wanted to be an author, she decided a degree in science was more practical. After fifteen years in the pharmaceutical industry, she returned to her first love and hasn’t looked back since.
She writes erotic romance as Tara Sue Me. The novels in her Submissive series appeared on both the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists.
Visit her website at: tarasueme.com, or sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Excerpt: Twisted End
Also by Tara Thomas
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
BROKEN PROMISE
Copyright © 2018 by Tara Thomas.
Novella of Twisted End copyright © 2018 by Tara Thomas.
Author photo by Glen McCurtayne Coleman-Rayner
Design by James Iacobelli; woman by Silas Manhood; house © Scott Prokop/Shutterstock.com
All rights reserved.
For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
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eISBN: 978-1-250-13799-9
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St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / July 2018
St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.