Page 39 of Jack Raider

We kissed, and the crowd erupted.

The reception took place just a few feet away under hanging lights and long wooden tables filled with food, friends, and too much pie. Frasier gave a toast. Nate made fun of Jack’s dance moves. Bonnie danced with Wolf. Liam and Nile tried to teach Grandma how to take a selfie. And Mable? She caught the bouquet. She also tackled a bridesmaid to do it.

“I’ve still got it!” she yelled, holding it over her head like a trophy.

“Please don’t break a hip,” I whispered as I passed her.

Jack pulled me aside as the sun dipped below the trees, his arms circling my waist.

“Are you happy?” he asked, his voice low.

“I’m married to you. Of course I’m happy.”

He kissed me, slow and sweet, like there was nowhere else in the world he’d rather be.

“I’ve flown jets at Mach 2,” he murmured against my cheek. “But this? Being yours? This is the best ride I’ve ever been on.”

And I knew, right then and there, we were exactly where we were always meant to be—tangled up in love, surrounded by chaos, and completely, wonderfullyhome.

The End

KEEP READING FOR MORE OF SEALS ON FRASIER MOUNTAIN

MAX BANNON

If any of you have read Raeann she was my Book one of my FBI Special Agents. Those are some kick ass ladies. Max is Raeann and Nick’s son. A lot of the people in this series are related to my other series.

16

Tessa

“This can’t be right,”I muttered, squinting at the crumpled directions in my lap. “Was I supposed to turn at the giant pine tree orafterthe giant pine tree?”

The trees all looked the same. Towering. Judgy. Slightly menacing, like they knew I was the kind of person who left coffee mugs in the microwave and couldn’t keep track of her keys for more than five minutes.

Frasier Mountain was stunning—rolling green hills, wildflowers, and the kind of silence that felt sacred—but it was also a maze. I hadn’t had cell service for twenty minutes, and my GPS had given up halfway through a sentence.

I rounded a curve, drove another quarter mile, and then… dead end.

“Awesome,” I groaned, putting the Jeep in park.

I stepped out, boots crunching gravel, and turned in a slow circle. All I saw were trees, foggy hills, and—was that a squirrel giving me side-eye?

“Hey there,” I mumbled. “You wouldn’t happen to know where the Bed and Breakfast is?”

The squirrel ran.

Which was when I heard a truck.

And then I saw him.

He stepped out like something from a daydream I didn’t know I’d ordered. Tall, blonde, broad-shouldered, wearing jeans, boots, and a black Henley that hugged arms sculpted by either hard training or divine intervention. Maybe both.

His eyes met mine, and the world stilled.

Holy crap. For no reason my breathing hitched, and speeded up.

Max

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