“How could I forget? If not for him, we wouldn’t have this photo.”
The stranger had caught them making out all hot and heavy on a park bench. Even though Marissa had almost fainted from embarrassment, Jarrett asked the laughing man to take their photo and handed over his phone.
“I debated about when to do this, but now is best.” He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a small velvet pouch. “Marissa, will you wear this for me?”
She frowned until a tarnished faux emerald ring fell from the pouch. “My promise ring? I threw it away. How did you find it?”
“Mom gave it to me after dinner the other night. She said you tossed it on the road after I left home. She figured you might want it back someday, so she searched for it the next morning and kept it in her jewelry box.”
Tears stung her eyes. The gemstone no longer glimmered and scratches marred the gold band, but she loved it. “I’ll only wear it if you promise me something.”
“Yes?”
She fisted her hands in his T-shirt. “I don’t care if this trouble with Consuelo turns from bad to worse. If you have to leave to protect us, fine. If you can’t contact us, so be it, but you better return. Promise me you’ll do everything in your power to come back to us. We’re worth it, Jarrett.”
“I left last time because of stupidity. When I leave this time—and I will, even if it’s just for the trial—it’s to secure my future with you and Jason.” He grasped her hands. “I can’t live without you. I’ll come home, no matter how long it takes.” With that, he slipped the ring on her finger. It scraped over her knuckle and lodged there.
She laughed softly. “Well, these hands no longer belong to an eighteen-year-old. Try the pinky.”
He did as requested, and the ring fit perfectly. “We’ll upgrade to a diamond soon enough. I love you, Marissa Reinn Brandt. Nothing will separate us again—at least not for long. I promise it.”
****
“Dinner was great!”Jarrett swallowed the last bit of creamy cheesecake.
The last time he’d dined so well was at Arlo Consuelo’s sixtieth birthday dinner, and that gourmet cuisine didn’t compare to a juicy ham topped with pineapples, artisan bread, half a dozen side items, made-from-scratch pecan pie, and Jason’s boxed cheesecake.
“You’ve outdone yourself, Linda. You, too, Marissa.” Harold leaned back and rested his hands on his stomach. “I don’t think I can walk.”
Linda chuckled. “And thank you, dear, for making the potato salad.”
“Bah. It’s easy enough.” He waved off the appreciation. “But are you really gonna force me to watch the parade rerun? The sports game is—”
“You watched those sweaty men tackle each other earlier. Now it’s time for us women to watch what we want.” She winked at Marissa before standing to grab the leftover yams and stuffing. “Go with them, Marissa. Make sure the parade is on.”
“All right, but I won’t let you clean up alone. Isn’t that right, Jason?”
“What? Oh, yeah. I’ll help.” Jason popped out of his chair and gathered a few dishes.
Good boy. Jarrett shook his head, grinning, as his mother and nephew headed into the kitchen. He followed Marissa and his dad into the living room as the older man grumbled incoherently, probably about the parade.
The doorbell rang.
“I got it,” Linda called from the kitchen. As she reached the foyer, the front door slammed open, and she screamed.
Jarrett and Harold raced toward her and skidded to a halt.
A masked intruder clutched Linda to his chest and held a gun to her temple. Two other black-garbed men aimed their guns at Jarrett and his father.
Marissa rushed to the open doorway and gasped.
Jarrett thrust her behind him. Oh, shit. This couldn’t be happening!
“What do you want?” Harold held out his arms.
The man who pinned Linda against him bobbed his head toward the living room. “Get in there. All of you.”
His raspy voice clawed at Jarrett’s eardrums. He cringed, heat sweeping through him as his mother cried out and gripped her captor’s arm.
