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When You Are Mine
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By Kennedy Ryan
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Kerris Moreton knows how to make things work. Bounced from foster home to foster home as a kid, she adapted; when opportunity arose, she thrived. Now, about to open her own business and accept a marriage proposal, Kerris is ready to build the life she's always wanted. The only thing missing? A passionate connection with her would-be fiance, Cam. Kerris wants to believe that sparks are overrated-until Walsh Bennett lights her up like the Fourth of July.
As one of the East Coast's most eligible bachelors, Walsh enjoys financial independence, fulfilling work with his family's nonprofit, and plenty of female attention. But lately he's been distracted by the one woman he can't have. Lovely to look at and even sweeter to know, Kerris is the soul mate Walsh never thought he would find. The problem is, his best friend found her first.
Excerpt
Acknowledgments
I could probably fill every page of this book with thanks for so many people. That is impractical, so Iâll narrow it down to just a few, and hope that Iâve told everyone else at some point how very grateful I am. I have to thank my parents. My father for planting a love for words and excellence in my heart, and even when he was busy, finding ways to water them. My mother, who passed along a voracious appetite for reading, always reminded me I was a writer and always whispered destiny to me. To my first beta readers, my family Shelly and Rukel, who read this piece by piece, chapter by chapter, and encouraged me to continue when I assumed it was crap. To my agent, Nikki Terpilowski, for taking a chance on me. To so many awesome writers Iâve met so far, but especially to Kimberly Belle, Sofia Tate, and Katie Oliver, all strong, emerging voices in this industry Iâm pleased as punch to call friends.
To my son, Myles, who, though he speaks very little, has taught me more than I could have imagined about perseverance and unconditional love living with autism every day. Your life speaks to me and to so many others.
And finally, to my best friend, champion, and the absolute love of my life, my husband, Sam. It has always been you. It will always be you.
Chapter One
All eyes were on him, except the brideâs. Walsh hadnât looked at Kerris Moreton, his best friendâs wife-to-be, for weeks. As two hundred wedding guests waited, Walsh contemplated his glass of champagne and the toast they expected from the best man.
âI met this scrawny, mean punk of a kid at camp thirteen years ago.â Walsh pieced together his most charming smile around the words. âWe pretty much hated each other on sight.â
He paused for a ripple of polite laughter before focusing his attention on his best friend, Cam.
âBut by the end of the summer, I had a best friend. I had a brother, and thatâs never changed. Weâve been through a lot together, and you deserve every happiness. I love you, man.â
With a look, Walsh and Cam exchanged years of memories and emotions in a silent moment between them.
And then Walsh did what he had deliberately denied himself all day. He looked at the bride. Really looked at her, full on, and every word he had scripted fled his mind. His breath caught up in his throat at her beauty, illuminated by the kindness and compassion he knew lay beneath that gorgeous face. His tongue clung to the roof of his mouth for an extra second before he wrenched himself from drowning in her amber eyes.
Kerris met his stare, her expression not guarded enough to disguise the fear, the near-panic. He read the question in her eyes as if she had spoken aloud.
What are you about to say?
âAnd what a girl youâve found,â he said, unable to look away from her solemn gaze.
âI saw her before I knew she was the girl youâd been telling me all about. She was going out of her way to help someone. I knew then that she was different, and that she deserved a special man.â
He raised his glass to toast the bride, swishing champagne and disappointment in his mouth.
Heâd wanted to be that man.
*Â Â *Â Â *
Eighteen Months Earlier
Walsh couldnât stop watching her. She stood too far away for him to see her face clearly in the dim light, but he suspected it would take his breath away. She peered up at the bus schedule, speaking with an elderly woman. Her bright red dress in the almost empty parking lot drew his eye like a silver lining in a dark cloud.
âDoes it say when the B is coming?â The older womanâs question carried across the space separating them, her white hair gleaming in the light from the street lamp.
âOh, no. You just missed the last bus.â The girlâs voice was husky-hot and sweet. Honey burned to a crisp.
âWell, I only live a few blocks away. Iâll walk.â
âMy carâs over here. Iâll take you.â
âNo, I couldnât put you out like that.â It sounded like only half the ladyâs heart was in the protest, and the other half didnât want to walk in the dark. âYou donât even know me.â
âI know itâs too dark for you to walk the streets alone. I wonât sleep tonight wondering if you made it home. Come on.â
Walsh wished she would turn around so he could see this Good Samaritanâs face, but he only glimpsed a delicate profile and a flower behind her ear before she marched toward a battered Toyota Camry.
Walsh pushed the incident from his mind, crossing the parking lot and entering the hotel across the street. He was late, but his mother wouldnât care. Sheâd just be glad to have him home.
âBennett!â a voice boomed as soon as he entered the beautifully decorated ballroom. âWhat the hell. I didnât know you were coming tonight.â
âItâs called a surprise.â
Walsh warded off Cameron Mitchellâs playful jabs before hooking an elbow around his neck.
Walsh watched his cousin Joanne approach, walking as fast as she could in her prized Manolos, weaving through the food-laden tables and well-dressed people. Her smooth skin glowed with health. The sleek, chestnut-streaked bob fell around her ears, a glossy frame for her oval face. Her full lips tilted up at the edges, hinting at the laughter she usually reserved for her tight circle of friends and family. Jo wedged herself between Cam and Walsh, throwing an arm over each manâs shoulder. She had been fitting nicely between the two of them since theyâd met Cam at camp thirteen years ago. Walsh had been fourteen and they had been thirteen. That slim age difference had been about the only thing separating them ever since.
âYou didnât tell us you were coming.â Jo nodded at Walshâs jeans and polo shirt, her gray eyes sparkling, a cheeky grin lighting her face. âYour mom will be so glad to see you. Even dressed like that.â
Walsh gave Jo an affectionate squeeze and kiss, eyeing her brightly patterned halter dress and Camâs sports jacket and slacks. He was underdressed.
âShe wonât mind.â Walsh cast a cursory glance around the ballroom. âIs Uncle James here?â
âDaddy?â Jo rolled her eyes, hand on the curve of her slim hip. âHe was still at the office when I left, but heâll be here.â
âOr Mom will have his head.â Walsh shared a knowing look with his cousin.
Uncle James and Walshâs mother were not only siblings, but best friends. They had always been partners in crime in everything, including running the family foundation and raising their children.
Walsh spotted his mother working the room, trolling for donors.
âIâll see Unc when he gets here,â Walsh said. âGoing to go grab Mom now.â
Cam laid a hand on Walshâs shoulder, his smile as broad as the Eno River, which snaked through the small town of Rivermont, North Carolina.
âOkay, but donât forget I want to introduce you to my new girl. Sheâs amazing.â
âCan you believe this?â Walsh nodded his head toward Cam, but looked at Jo. âThe certified player, wanting one girl?â
âShe is pretty amazing.â Jo offered a wry smile, bumping Camâs shoulder with hers. âWhatâs most amazing is that she wasnât running after him like the swarm of girls heâs used to.â
âIt took me six months to even get a date with this girl.â Cam waved his hand to indicate his olive skin, blue-gray eyes, and dark, wavy hair. âMe!â
Jo rolled her eyes, shaking her head and setting her gold hoop earrings in motion. âShe is something else.â
âIâll meet her later.â Walsh turned in his motherâs direction. âRight now, I gotta go kiss the most beautiful woman in the room.â
He snuck up behind his mother and covered her eyes.
âWho is this?â She starched and pressed the words.
âHow many people did you give birth to?â
âWalsh!â She whooped and turned around to hug him as tightly as he had known she would. Her dark hair was pulled back in an elegant knot, showing off her smooth, still-unlined skin. âI didnât know you were coming tonight. Your room isnât even ready.â
The ever-practical Southern hospitality. Kristeene Walsh Bennett had never lost it, even when sheâd been married to his father, living among New Yorkâs most elite.
âIâll be fine.â Walsh gave her an extra squeeze before pulling away. âJust as long as thereâs a bed. Feels like parts of me are scattered across three time zones. I just want to crash after this.â
âBut you will stay, right?â She rolled a threat and a plea into one tiny frown. âYou have to meet our Scholar of the Year. Sheâs overcome so much.â
âHavenât they all?â Walsh thought of Cam and several of the other foster kids whoâd come through the foundation over the years.
âWell, yes, but sheâs special,â Kristeene said, something approaching pride in her voice. âSheâs driven and determined. Just a good girl.â
âLet me guess. She has a great personality?â
âWell, yes, she does.â His mother pressed her lips together, but Walsh knew laughter could spill from the sides at any minute. âCome on. Time to announce the awards.â
Walsh took a seat across from Cam and Jo.
âWhere is she?â Cam twisted around, scanning the crowded room. âShe shouldâve been here by now.â
âSheâll be here.â Jo took a quick sip of her white wine and toyed with the studded bangle wrapped around her wrist. âSheâs probably just running late, and Iâm sure thereâs an excellent reason for it. God forbid sheâd do anything wrong.â
âShe did mention she was taking her mentee home after school.â Worry pulled Camâs dark brows together. âBut that wouldâve been hours ago.â
Was this really Cam? Walsh couldnât believe all this concern. For a girl? Cam barely remembered the names of the girls heâd slept with over the years, usually referring to them by distinguishing characteristics.
The girl with the belly-button ring.
That chick with the tramp stamp.
The one who did that trick with her tongue.
Now Cam was worried because this girl was late?
âThank you all for being here tonight,â Walshâs mother said from the platform, her warm gaze skimming each table. âMy great-grandfather married a girl who never knew her mother or father. A girl who lived in an orphanage throughout her childhood. Her story compelled my family to start the Walsh Foundation, and weâve been helping kids without parents or homes all over the world ever since.â
Polite applause from the donors. The college students who had grown up in foster homes and been able to attend college because of the foundation offered a less reserved response, cheering and whistling until Kristeene held up a staying hand.
âSpeaking of all over the world.â Kristeene turned a bright smile in Walshâs direction. âIâm going to have a proud mother moment and welcome my son, Walsh, home. Heâs finally back from visiting our orphanage in Kenya. Help me convince him to stay for the summer. Stand up, baby.â
Walsh stood, offering a brief salute before quickly sitting, feeling as self-conscious as he had at six years old when sheâd forced him to play the piano for company.
âWeâre so proud of him.â Her eyes lingered on her only child. âHeâs been working with the Walsh Foundation ever since he graduated from NYU, and he helps out his father in New York when he can.â
Walsh nearly smirked, thinking of how disgusted Martin Bennett would be to hear about his son âhelping outâ in New York. Like training to run a multibillion dollar enterprise was his side gig. His father wanted Walsh to work all of what he liked to call this âphilanthropy crapâ out of his system with his motherâs do-gooder family.
âAnd that brings us to our final award, the Scholar of the Year,â his mother said, regaining Walshâs attention. âThis young lady has impressed us all. Not only did she graduate last week with a four-point-oh GPA, but she also serves as a mentor at Walsh House in Raleigh, where we serve at-risk teens. I interviewed her myself for the scholarship last year. I was blown away by her strength of will, determination, and compassion. Please welcome Kerris Moreton, our Scholar of the Year.â
Everyone applauded. After that grand introduction, Walsh wondered if this girl would ascend to the stage flanked by cherubim and seraphim and accompanied by harps. Walsh envisioned everyone genuflecting when this paragon finally decided to bless them with her presence. His hands stung from clapping, waiting for her to show up.
Where the hell was she?
His mother scanned the room, obviously looking for the little scholar-cum-saint. She shielded her eyes against the glare of discreetly lit chandeliers.
âI guess promptness isnât one of her virtues,â Walsh said.
Cam surprised him with an irritated look. What? Did the little saint have him under her spell, too? Wonder what his new girlfriend thought of that. Then Camâs face lit up.
âHere she comes.â
She rushed through the door and down the aisle toward the stage. Walsh blinked, thinking she would be less lovely at a second glance. She was not less of anything. No less blinding. No less stunning. No less captivating. She rushed past their table, but not before he got a good look at her.
She was tiny. Probably no more than an inch over five feet, but softly curved in the places a woman should be. He would stand more than a foot taller. Her hair waved around her shoulders and streamed down her slim back, dark brown, spiked with lighter red streaks, as if the tresses had trapped rays of sun. Her cheekbones curved high, a perfect setting for eyes that tilted a little, glinting with green, amber, and gold. And that mouth.
Damn, that mouth.
It was full and wide. Lush, like raspberries at peak season.
And damned if she wasnât wearing a scarlet dress and a flower behind her ear.
Chapter Two
He was a mountain. Insurmountable. Stark against the backdrop of the glittering ballroom like peaks against a feather-clouded sky. His unwavering stare scrambled her thoughts.
Kerris knew she should be used to the stares by now. People could never label her ethnicity. A little bit of this, a little bit of that. Sheâd never know what genetic cocktail had been shaken or stirred to get this face that made people take a second look, trying to place her. Sheâd always struggled to find her place. Hard to do when you were practically born on a doorstep and passed around like an old library book everyone keeps returning.
She got the impression this man wasnât used to waiting for people and things, but he didnât seem impatient. If anything, he was completely still. He seemed to be waiting for her.
After the awards had been given out, Kerris tried to focus on several well-wishers offering congratulations. With her undignified sprint to the stage, she was just glad to have made it. Old ladies and kids. She could never say no.
Kerris managed to nod and smile at Jenni, the Walsh Foundationâs program coordinator, but she really just wanted to drag her weary bones home, wrap up in her thrift store kimono, and sip her Earl Grey.
âExcuse me, Jenni.â His voice was dark and rich and strong like a shot of espresso.
âWe didnât know you were coming tonight.â Jenniâs back straightened and her hand flitted to adjust an already-perfectly-straight collar.
âSurprise.â He smiled, and Jenni couldnât seem to look away. Neither could Kerris. âI wanted to congratulate Miss Moreton personally. Would you excuse us?â
Jenni scurried off without a word. Had he been rude? Kerris couldnât tell. She wondered if charm like that wrapped around such a steely will left people feeling they should thank him when he stepped on their feet.
He watched her with the focus of a jaguar considering a particularly scrumptious prey. That look should have frightened her, but it wasnât fear unfurling inside. She didnât know this feeling, but she was certain she had never felt it before.
âCongratulations.â He slid his hands into his pockets and cocked his head to one side, his casual stance belying the barely checked energy of a hunter. âI donât know which was more impressive. The award, or your good deed earlier taking the old lady home.â
Kerrisâs jaw nearly gave in to gravity and dropped.
âHow did youâŠwhen did youâŠhuh?â
Wow. Stellar articulation. She gave her mental processes a second to catch up. Letâs try this again.
âHow did you know about the lady?â
âI was in the parking lot across from the hotel, running late for the awards ceremony, and overheard.â
The room narrowed to the width of his smile, and Kerris felt herself leaning toward him, on the verge of toppling.
âMost people wouldnât have helped her out.â
âShe was a sweetheart. It was nothing.â
One hand went to her throat. The other touched the silk orchid nested behind her ear. A succession of twitches she couldnât control. Butterfly wings brushed the lining of her belly. She willed the triple time tempo of her heart to slow, but he inundated her senses, and they would not be soothed.
Kerris watched him catalog every detail about her, his eyes surveying each limb and curve. Her fingers plucked at her thrift shop dress, a scarlet tunic with gold embroidery edging the sleeves and collar, stopping just above her knees. Under his scrutiny, her toes curled in the scarlet leather mules. She shifted her weight from one tanned leg to the other. And then back again, like an uneven scale, grappling for balance.
She returned his inspection, noting the dark green eyes under thick, well-shaped brows. The sculpted blade of a nose. The high cheekbones jutting to create hollows above his jaw. His tanned skin stretched taut over the regal bones of his face. He wore jeans, a green polo shirt, and leather moccasins, but he carried an air of careless glamour only money could achieve. He was a slumming prince, and the strong male beauty of him snagged the breath in her throat. The rest of the room dissolved into a peripheral blur.
She wasnât sure if she was supposed to speak, or if it was his turn. She wanted to speak, make small talk, but speech and sense had fled. She was naturally reticent. Slow to share much about herself. Some might even call her shy. But somehow she knew this man could trample her defenses and dismantle her like a ticking bomb.
âSo you two finally met.â A familiar male voice a few feet away snapped the invisible thread tugging her closer by the second.
Kerris looked over her shoulder, coming back to herself and finally absorbing something beyond him. Cam walked up, making her smile. He made smiling an involuntary action, like blinking or sneezing. Something you just couldnât hold back.
Cam slid an arm around her waist, leaning down to kiss her cheek. She forced herself to give him her full attention, willing Mr. Mountain to drift away.
âThis is the guy Iâve been trying to get you to meet for the last year, but heâs been all over the globe saving orphans. This is my best friend in the world, Walsh Bennett.â
Oh. Freaking. No.
Kerrisâs only consolation was that Walsh looked just as disconcerted before disciplining his features into a polite mask, as if that moment hadnât happened. Maybe it had been her imagination. Feeling a wordless, mindless connection that strong with your boyfriendâs best friend would border on tragic.
âI was just congratulating Kerris on her award. My mom practically threatened to disown me if I didnât.â Walsh split his glance between the two of them. âI had no idea Momâs star scholar was the girl youâve been raving about.â
Jo sidled up and slipped her arm through the crook of Walshâs.
âIâm just glad someone made Cam work for it.â
âI finally found a girl worth working for.â Camâs half-serious look rested on Kerris.
He placed a kiss on her unsuspecting lips, surprising her when his tongue made a quick foray into her mouth. She willed herself not to jerk away. Cam knew how difficult physical affection was for her in private, much less in a room full of people. Her discomfort deepened in front of him.
âIâm glad to finally have you both in the same state,â Cam said. âThis summerâs gonna be great. The two people I love most in the world. Sorry, Jo. Make that three.â
âWhatever,â Jo said, her laugh good-natured. âAre we going to celebrate the scholar or what? The food at this reception looks delish.â
âUm, remember I kind of had a private celebration planned for Kerris and me.â Cam offered a sheepish grin, squeezing Kerrisâs hand.
âWhatâd you have in mind?â Kerris found a smile she hoped passed for normal.
âYouâll have to wait and see.â Camâs look asked Jo and Walsh to understand. âYou guys donât mind if we skip the reception, right? Iâll see you tomorrow.â
âTomorrow?â Walsh glanced at Kerris before looking back at Cam.
âJust some of us getting together at the river to kick off the summer,â Jo said. âGrill some food. Swim. You in, Walsh?â
âSounds like fun. If you donât mind me sleeping half the time. Jet lagâs kicking my ass.â
âSleep as much as you want.â Jo leaned her head against Walshâs shoulder. âWe just want you around. Weâve missed you, man.â
âYeah, great having you home. Canât wait to catch up.â Cam turned to Kerris. âBut right now, weâre gonna head on out. Ready, Ker?â
Kerris watched the interaction between the longtime friends. The feeling was finally returning to each body part Walsh had so closely inspected moments before.
âOh, sure,â she said. Cam pulled her toward the door, but she glanced over her shoulder one last time. âNice to finally meet you, Walsh.â
Before she turned away, Walshâs eyes held hers for an extra beat of her heart. That same jolt struck right down the middle of her soul. The intensity of that stare left her insides crackling.
*Â Â *Â Â *
Walsh watched until the crowd swallowed Kerrisâs scarlet silk. He felt like someone had shaken him from a coma, and heâd awakened disoriented in a world that was familiar, but changed in ways vast and indiscernible.
âHellooooo.â Jo waved a hand in front of his face. âWhat were you looking at?â
âNothing.â Walsh carefully hid his churning emotions beneath a protective layer of composure. The trick heâd learned over the years didnât usually work on his sharp-eyed cousin, but it was worth a try.
âI can tell when youâre attracted to a girl, and the look you just gave Kerris was way beyond that. Forget it. Sheâs taken. By your best friend, I might add.â
âThe girlâs beautiful.â Walsh did his best to look directly into the censure of Joâs eyes. âCanât blame a guy just for looking.â
âKeep it that way.â Skepticism twisted Joâs mouth, lifting one side and not bothering with the other.
âYou think Camâs serious about this girl?â Walsh deliberately kept his voice casual and devoid of the rabid curiosity gnawing through his mind.
âSerious? That plan of his?â Jo paused as if giving Walsh time to prepare for what sheâd say next. âTonight heâs asking her to marry him.â
The word âmarryâ punched Walsh in the throat, the breath soughing through his nose. He had glimpsed a great prize behind the curtain, only to have it snatched away. A cruel sleight of hand. He reminded himself he had exchanged only a handful of words with the girl. His strong response to the possibility of Cam marrying her was because he didnât know her, and only wanted the best for Cam. For Cam to be happy. That was the reason.
A shame he couldnât convince himself.
Chapter Three
Cam and Kerris pulled up the cobbled driveway leading to his lovely, stacked stone cottage. A wide front porch with a swing looked like a holdover from a time long gone.
âYouâre so lucky to live here rent-free, Cam.â Kerris pulled off her seat belt and eyed the charming house she fell a little bit more in love with every time she visited.
âYeah, Ms. Kristeene wonât take my money, which is fine with me since I donât have much.â He angled a grin her way in the dim light of the car. âThis cottage has been in their family for probably sixty years, but since they all live at the house closer to town, it works out.â
Genre:
- "When You Are Mine is exactly what I look for in a romance! Achingly beautiful with palpable, real characters, you cannot help but completely fall in love with. I cannot wait for more!"âNew York Times bestselling author A.L. Jackson on When You Are Mine
-
"Ryan's debut is rife with sexual tension while her easy style and likable characters bring this unpredictable love triangle to life."
âUSA Today bestselling author Karina Halle on When You Are Mine
- On Sale
- Oct 24, 2023
- Page Count
- 320 pages
- Publisher
- Forever
- ISBN-13
- 9781538766903
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