They were all arriving today. Her parents were flying in from New York. Logan’s parents were driving in from Montana. A few colleagues had promised to join them, as well as Logan’s siblings, nieces, and nephews. Normally she’d be curled up with paroxysms of terror at such a huge gathering, but she was genuinely excited. She couldn’t wait to meet the people who raised Logan, all the friends who’d helped form the man she loved.
“I hear another car.” Logan popped out of the scrum, his hair sticking up. “Let’s bring this outside, guys, before I fracture another rib.”
Logan threw out a hand for her, an invite to join them. Her heart swelled so full she couldn’t move from the spot, from the sight, from the moment.
“Go on ahead,” she said around the soft lump in her throat. “I’ll follow you in a minute.”
She watched as Logan strode after his friends. The screen door flung open, then closed behind him with a squeal and a bang, a sound that was music to her ears. The rear door of the cabin she and Logan had shared had sounded the same—as had the back door of her grandmother’s country house, too. The squeal and bang riffled up memories of her grandmother stepping into the old kitchen, baskets of herbs propped against her hip, happy summers filled with love. Sometimes—like right now—Jenny felt her grandmother’s presence in the room, a gentle haze of affection.
I found it, grandma. All the love you held for me, all the love you promised I would have.
Just like you said I would.
With a satisfied smile, she grabbed a dishtowel, wiped her hands clean, and headed out the door to meet her new family.
THE END
Thank you for joining Jenny and Logan on their journey to love in ALONE WITH YOU!
With every novel, I try to deliver a sense of being swept away on a passionate adventure with a sexy, strong man. I hope ALONE WITH YOU gifted you hours of lovely, joyful distraction.
Are you in the mood for another steamy trapped-together romance? Check out an exclusive excerpt from the next book in the Cabin Fever Series, LOST WITH YOU, just ahead.
Don’t miss Lisa Ann Verge's other passionate romances
TWICE UPON A TIME
THE FAERY BRIDE
WILD HIGHLAND MAGIC
THE CELTIC LEGENDS SERIES: Box Set
THE O'MADDEN: A NOVELLA
ROMANTIC JOURNEYS COLLECTION: Three Sweeping Historical Romances for Lovers of Passion And Adventure
HEAVEN IN HIS ARMS
SING ME HOME
HER PIRATE HEART
THE CAPTIVE KNIGHT
Also available—the Novels of Lisa Verge Higgins
THE PROPER CARE AND MAINTENANCE OF FRIENDSHIP
ONE GOOD FRIEND DESERVES ANOTHER
FRIENDSHIP MAKES THE HEART GROW FONDER
RANDOM ACTS OF KINDNESS
SENSELESS ACTS OF BEAUTY
Enjoy this excerpt from LOST WITH YOU, Book 2 in the Cabin Fever Series
CHAPTER ONE
“C’mon, Bessie, hold on for me.” Casey Michaels winced as the van lurched over a rut in the dirt road. “The cabin isn’t far now, unless the GPS has gone wonky.”
She glanced at the dashboard clock as worry stirred. She’d been driving for six hours. The rusty van shook like an old washing machine. Her lower back ached and her calf had gone tight from pressing the gas. She flexed her hands over the steering wheel and mentally willed Bessie to stay in one piece just a little bit longer. She couldn’t afford another broken axle or overheated engine, like when she’d covered the off-road races in the Mojave Desert last month. She had a tiny window of opportunity to interview this guy for her latest assignment, and she was already two hours late.
A flash of sunlight caught her eye. She hit the brakes and peered through the trees to a glint of sunlight off the hood of a Jeep. The cabin beyond it, amid the pines, looked like something out of an Abe Lincoln theme park. Her editor hadn’t given her much information about Dylan MacCabe, other that the guy lived in the middle of nowhere, and tomorrow he would set off on a canoe adventure into the Adirondack wilderness.
This place had to be his.
Nudging Bessie into the shallow tire-furrows that wound between the trees, Casey pulled her sputtering van to a park beside the Jeep. If the man matched the setting, he’d be full-bearded, decked in plaid, and honed by years of hewing logs. She shut off the van to a series of sputters and coughs and reached behind the seats to drag her laptop case off the pile of all her worldly possessions. The van was so hot she had to kick the rusty door open.
She called out, “Mr. MacCabe?”
She stepped onto the porch, but heard no response from within the cabin. The inner door yawned open, but that didn’t mean he was home. She never used to lock the door of her own rural home, either. A prickling threatened behind her eyes, but Casey willed it away. Now was not the time to think about all she’d lost.
All she'd given away.
Cupping her hands against the battered screen, she searched for signs of life amid the plaid couches, braided rugs, and table covered with books and papers, but pulled away at the sound of a sharp, distinct thunk. Hopping off the low wooden porch, she ran a hand over her travel-mussed hair and the creases of her skirt and headed around the side of the building toward the sound. She turned the corner to a view of the hacked-up remains of an enormous tree trunk.
Casey scuffed to a dazzled stop. In the midst of the carnage stood a man of six-feet and more, sporting gray office slacks and an oxford button-up shirt…while hauling up an axe. The cotton of his shirt strained across massive shoulders. He twisted slightly at his belted, narrow waist. With an economy of movement, he hurled the head of the axe down with whistling swiftness. Even with a
