Wanted: A Real Family Read online

  Beside Jase now, Tony said, “So you’re not going to Africa?”

  “Not this time. I am going to Alabama, though. And Sara and Amy are coming with me. That trip will be about kids and schools and getting the word out for donations to help build a library.”

  His best man probed a little deeper. “So you’re going to live in Raintree’s main house?”

  He nodded. “We’re going to remodel first. Dad’s all for it. He’d like a suite of rooms on the first floor. He said that makes sense as he gets older. We’ll do some remodeling upstairs, too, for us. After our honeymoon in Aruba, Sara and Amy and I will stay at the cottage while all of that is going on. Dad’s going to take a trip to France with Liam and visit some wineries. He’s wanted to do it for a while but didn’t feel free to leave the vineyard.”

  “But now he does.”

  “He does. He knows I think of it as home now. I might take a jaunt every once in a while to fulfill journalistic tendencies, but I’m going to remain general manager...and take over someday.”

  The music changed in tone and everyone knew what that meant. All of the guests stood. Connie and other Mommy Club volunteers filled the first few rows. Liam was there, too, with a grin on his face as he gave Jase a thumbs-up sign.

  Marissa came down the white runner first, her smile wide as she caught his eye and winked. When she reached the first row of chairs, she turned around and beckoned to the next in line. Amy and Jordan walked up the aisle hand in hand. Amy was carrying a basket of rose petals and Jordan dipped his hand into it, flinging them around every few steps. When they reached the front, Marissa gathered the kids and settled them into chairs next to her on the right. Kaitlyn came next and then—

  Then there was Sara on his father’s arm.

  She looked like a princess...or Cinderella. The gown was mounds of tulle with seed pearls, embroidery and glass beads. It was strapless. The tulle veil covered her shoulders and draped down the back. She was almost too beautiful to look at, but Jase looked anyway. He’d be looking at her like this forever.

  When Sara met him at the trellis, she gave his dad a kiss on the cheek. His father was still a bit red-faced as he shook Jase’s hand and said, “Congratulations, son.”

  Jase’s throat tightened. For the first time since he’d arrived at Raintree, they had a true father-son bond.

  After his dad took his seat beside Marissa, Jase bent close to Sara and murmured, “You’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen. I love you.”

  Her eyes glistened with happiness as she said the words, too. “I love you. I’m so happy I’m going to burst.”

  “Not yet,” he teased. “Remember we have a celebration after the wedding.”

  In unison they turned toward the minister, standing close, holding each other’s hands.

  After the minister welcomed everyone and said an opening prayer, Jase and Sara faced each other for their vows.

  Jase went first. “I, Jase Cramer, take you, Sara Stevens, to be my wife. I promise to love you, cherish you and Amy, honor you and be faithful to you. My commitment to you isn’t just for today. It’s for the rest of our lives...and beyond. It will grow deeper each day as I become the husband you need and the father Amy deserves. I will learn to put our family first and my desires second. We’ve already begun the art of compromise and I look forward to more of it. I vow to give you all I can and everything I am. I love you, Sara Stevens, and I am proud to become your husband today.”

  Sara’s tears showed him how much his promises meant to her. They hadn’t heard each other’s vows because they hadn’t wanted them to be practiced. They’d wanted the words to come from their hearts.

  After Sara squeezed his fingers, she said, “I love you, Jase Cramer, more than I ever thought I could love. And still I look forward to that love growing each and every day as we make a new life together. I promise to honor you, cherish you, respect you and listen to you. With all my heart I want you to be Amy’s real dad. And I promise to trust you with her and with any decisions we make about her. No matter where we live, I will make us a home where we will feel free to say our minds, feel free to express our concerns, feel free to love. We’ve both searched for someone to belong to for a long time. I know we belong together. Our dreams for our lives and Amy’s are within our grasp. I promise you my heart, Jase...and that I will take good care of yours. I love you, and I can’t wait to be your wife.”

  They squeezed each other’s hands and Jase knew he’d always remember this moment. The minister said a few more words, and then Jase and Sara exchanged rings. He’d bought her a diamond big enough to catch abundant sunlight every day. But for a wedding ring she’d asked for a plain gold band and that’s what he would wear, too.

  Jase and Sara had asked the minister to do something a little different. Before the blessing, they brought Amy up with them. Jase held her in one arm with his other arm around Sara as the minister said, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. I pronounce you a family.”

  Jase set Amy on the ground. She ran to Jordan and Marissa, and he took Sara in his arms again and kissed her.

  The guests applauded and Marissa whistled. Tony congratulated them both.

  Then Sara reached her hand out to Amy once more and the three of them walked down the white runner to the beginning of a new life.

  * * * * *

  Look for Adam & Kaitlyn’s story,

  the next book in Karen Rose Smith’s new miniseries,

  THE MOMMY CLUB.

  Coming soon to Harlequin Special Edition!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from His Long-Lost Family by Brenda Harlen

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  Chapter One

  Four months later—

  “Sorry I’m late.” Jack Garrett slid into the vacant seat across from Gord Adamson, a former law school classmate and occasional courtroom adversary, at The Winking Judge, a small pub across the street from the courthouse.

  “I was surprised to get your call,” Gord admitted. “I thought you’d given up criminal law.”

  “So did I,” he agreed. “But every once in a while, there’s a client I can’t turn away.”

  “Because you believe in his innocence?”

  “Because I believe that he deserves a break.”

  The waitress came over, momentarily disrupting their conversation. Gord ordered a scotch, neat, and Jack asked for a bottle of the locally brewed Millhouse beer.

  “I reviewed the file, Jack. And I’m sorry, but I don’t see probation for Travis Hatcher.”

  “Come on, Gord. He’s just a kid.”

  “A kid who took a baseball bat to a Mercedes that is worth more than twice my annual salary,” his colleague pointed out.

  “It was his father’s car,” Jack told him, though even he wasn’t sure if that was a
mitigating or an aggravating factor.

  “With incidental damage to two other vehicles.”

  “Restitution has already been made to the owners.”

  Gord sighed. “What’s your connection to this kid?”

  “I handled his parents’ divorce a few years back,” Jack admitted.

  “Rough one?”

  “I don’t seem to get any other kind, but this one was particularly difficult. A ten-year marriage that fell apart because the husband couldn’t keep his pants zipped and the wife couldn’t keep looking the other way. They fought over each piece of artwork and every stick of furniture, but mostly over who was going to get stuck with their ten-year-old son.”

  Gord, a father with two sons of his own, winced. “Damn, Jack. You’re yanking on my heartstrings here.”

  “He isn’t a bad kid,” Jack insisted. “He just got caught in a bad situation.”

  “Give me some background,” the prosecutor suggested.

  “A few months back, Travis was invited to a weekend camp to try out for the national amateur all-star tournament. There wasn’t anyone at the camp who doubted he would make the team. But instead of being offered a roster spot, he was sent home.”

  “I can understand that he would be disappointed and upset,” Gord acknowledged. “But that doesn’t justify his actions.”

  “That’s not the end of the story,” Jack told him. “About two weeks before the tournament, the number-one center fielder breaks his collarbone. There’s no way he can play, so Travis calls the national team coach, asks him to give him another chance to prove that he can fill the vacancy. And the coach bluntly tells him, ‘You’re good enough, but you’re never going to play on any team that I’m coaching. If you want to know why—ask your father.’”

  “The kid’s dad screwed the coach’s wife,” Gord guessed.

  Jack nodded. “Which he finally admitted when Travis confronted him after baseball practice.”

  “Jesus.” His friend lifted his glass, swallowed a mouthful of scotch.

  “There was no premeditation—he had the bat in his hand, and he simply reacted,” he explained. “Under the circumstances, can you blame him?”

  “Actions have consequences, and he has to be responsible for those consequences.”

  “Absolutely. But the consequences should be commensurate with the action. He had a moment where he acted impulsively and recklessly, but a criminal record will stick with him for life.”

  “You stay up late last night working on that spin?”

  “The truth doesn’t need spin.”

  Gord considered that for a moment. “Is he remorseful?”

  “Very.” Jack passed a handwritten note across the table.

  His colleague skimmed the page; he scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Damn you, Jack.”

  “You’re repeating yourself, Gord.” He passed over several more pages. “Character references from his teachers, guidance counselor, principal, high school baseball coach, his boss at the grocery store where he works part-time, and supervisor of the homework club where he volunteers twice a week.”

  Gord sighed. “You really think you can get probation?”

  “With a joint-sentencing recommendation, I do,” Jack said.

  “I’ll go joint if anger management is one of the terms of probation, but the final decision is still up to the judge.”

  “Of course,” he agreed.

  Gord took another sip of his drink. “You still dating Angela from the registry office?”

  Jack shook his head. “That was over a long time ago.”

  “No thoughts about settling down and starting a family at this stage in your life?”

  “Hell, no.” His failed marriage might be in the past, but it wasn’t so distant that he’d forgotten. And how could he when he spent almost every day in meetings and motions with husbands and wives who had once promised to love, honor, and cherish their spouses and were now hating, dishonoring, and spurning them?

  His friend chuckled. “Are you sure you don’t want a minute to consider your response?”

  Jack shook his head. “I was married once,” he confided. “When I was young and stupid.”

  “Was it that girl you were with in Chicago?”

  Jack paused with his bottle halfway to his lips. He’d forgotten that Gord had been at the same law conference he’d attended more than a dozen years earlier in Chicago. “No,” he said now. “That wasn’t her.”

  “So who was she?” Gord asked curiously. “Because I seem to recall that you had some pretty intense chemistry with her.”

  He frowned, as if trying to recall the details of those three glorious days that were still indelibly imprinted on his mind, then shook his head. “I don’t remember.”

  His friend snorted. “Yeah, and I took a job in the district attorney’s office for the extravagant salary.”

  “Why did you leave private practice?” Jack asked, because it seemed like an opportune moment to shift the topic of conversation.

  “Because when Sheila and I got married, she understood that I wanted to get my practice off the ground before I took any time off for a vacation. On our third anniversary, she reminded me that we still hadn’t had a honeymoon.”

  “And yet, you’re still married,” he mused.

  “Because I was smart enough to realize that I needed to balance my personal life and my professional life. Five years and two kids later, it was the smartest move I ever made—even if it means that my kids will have to go to public school.”

  “Thankfully not something I have to worry about.”

  “Never say never,” Gord warned.

  But Jack wasn’t worried. He was thirty-seven years old and happy to be on his own. And while he dated—albeit a lot less frequently than he had in the past—he always said goodbye without any regrets. The sole exception was the one unforgettable weekend he’d spent in Chicago with Kelly Cooper.

  Yeah, he had a boatload of regrets where she was concerned. He regretted walking into The Four Brothers pub for a drink—and not walking right back out again when he realized the gorgeous bartender who’d snared his attention was none other than the girl who’d lived next door when they were kids.

  He regretted giving in to the irresistible urge to taste the sassy mouth that had tormented him for more years than he wanted to admit; he regretted succumbing to the need to explore every inch of her soft, silky skin with his hands and his lips; he regretted losing himself—over and over again—in her warm, willing body. Mostly he regretted ever letting her go.

  “Speaking of family,” Gord said, drawing Jack’s attention back to the present, “I should get home to Sheila and the boys.”

  He started to call for the waitress, but Jack shook his head. “You go ahead. I’ve got the bill.”

  “Thanks.” Gord slid out of the booth, offered his hand. “I’ll bring your client’s case forward for a plea on Wednesday, when Judge Parrish is sitting.”

  “I appreciate it,” he said, confident in the knowledge that Judge Parrish had never overruled a joint recommendation.

  After his colleague was gone, Jack sat alone, nursing a second beer. He was grateful for Gord’s cooperation with Travis’s case—and annoyed that just the mention of Chicago had brought memories of Kelly Cooper to the forefront of his mind.

  Not that those memories were ever very far away, especially not since his brother had informed him that she was coming home.

  He didn’t understand why she was the one woman he couldn’t forget. They’d spent one unforgettable weekend together, but neither of them had mentioned the possibility of anything more. So when Kelly called a few months later—shortly after Sara had decided she’d been too hasty in ending their engagement—he’d been completely caught off guard. Just the sound of her voice had t
he memories flooding back and desire stirring. Then Sara had walked into the room and pointed to her watch, and he’d admitted to Kelly that he had an appointment with a wedding planner. After a brief moment of awkward silence, Kelly had offered a quick congratulations and an even quicker goodbye.

  Six months later, he’d married Sara. About two years after that, Kelly married some guy out in Seattle. Now they were both divorced, and despite all the years that had passed, he hadn’t forgotten about her. For some inexplicable reason, memories of one long ago weekend still stirred his blood more effectively than most of the flesh-and-blood women he’d dated in recent years.

  Maybe it was because he still felt guilty about the fact that he’d slept with the girl who had been his brother’s best friend since childhood. Yeah, it was the guilt, he assured himself.

  Because Jack refused to consider that he might have had feelings for Kelly that ever went any deeper than that.

  * * *

  The knots in Kelly’s stomach tightened as the plane touched down on the runway.

  This was it—there was definitely no going back now.

  Not that she wanted to go back. Although she’d made the decision to move back to Pinehurst quickly, it hadn’t been impulsively. Which made her realize she’d been thinking about it for a lot longer than she’d been ready to acknowledge. Because no matter where else she might have lived, Pinehurst was still home.

  She’d had such grand plans when she’d moved to Seattle. A new city, a new job, a new husband. Even when she and Malcolm had gone their separate ways, she hadn’t wanted to leave Seattle. Of course, Malcolm’s mom—the only grandmother Ava had ever known—had still been a big part of their lives. Kelly knew she wouldn’t have made it through those first few years without her former mother-in-law, and when Beverley Scott had passed away, she’d been at a loss. Not only because Bev had willingly stepped in whenever Kelly needed someone to watch her little girl, but because the older woman had been Kelly’s best friend in Washington.