“The massage table in my gym. I spent every session with you imagining that you would strip off your PT uniform and climb onto the massage table naked. I plan to make that fantasy a reality.”

Desire coiled its roots deep inside her. “I wanted to lick down the muscles of your back and swirl my tongue around the dimples just above your glutes.”

Gavin growled and ran his palm up her thigh under her skirt, focusing all sensation in a liquid pool between her legs. He brushed his fingers against the lace of her panties. “Let’s combine our fantasies and see what happens.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ll explode.”

His smile had a wicked edge. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Epilogue

Eight months later

Gavin put his arm around Allie’s waist. “It’s time to meet the others,” he said, guiding her through the press of guests in the Officers’ Club at Camp Lejeune. They were celebrating Chloe and Nathan’s wedding, and Allie had been beyond flattered when Chloe had asked her to be a bridesmaid.

“It seems strange to do this at a wedding,” she said. She touched the antique gold locket she wore around her neck, the one Gavin had presented to her the night he proposed, saying his mother had given her blessing to go with the gift.

At the same time, he’d told her that this was what he’d wagered in the insane bet he’d made with Nathan Trainor and Luke Archer a year ago. She was shocked that he’d risk the one memento of his mother that he had carried with him through all his life, but he just shook his head. “It was a dark time.”

Now he steered her past the wedding guests twirling on the parquet floor under the bright brass chandeliers. “A wedding is the perfect place to do it,” he said. “Especially this wedding.”

Nathan and Chloe’s celebration, with all its military pomp, was very different from Gavin’s and hers. They had decided on a small, informal wedding on the beach, attended by only family and very close friends, which included the Archers, as well as Chloe and Nathan. Allie had nearly ruined her bridal makeup by crying when Gavin gave his mother a big hug before he handed her into a seat of honor in the front row.

“There they are,” Gavin said, moving toward a doorway where Luke and Miranda had joined Nathan and Chloe. “Frankie is waiting for us.”

Chloe looked stunning in her elegant cream gown with its long chiffon skirt. The fitted bodice was overlaid with lace from her grandmother’s wedding gown and dotted with little clusters of pearls. True to her designer-shoe addiction, she wore a stunning pair of pumps with crystals and pearls swirling in ornate patterns. Of course, the happiness on her face outshone all the beautiful details of her clothing.

Miranda wore the same long, rose-colored chiffon bridesmaid’s dress that Allie did. Chloe had made sure that their strappy sandals encrusted with glittering pink rhinestones were just as fantastic as her own shoes.

“Follow me,” Nathan said, turning to lead the group down a paneled hall to a closed door. “This is the commander’s study,” he said, pushing open the door to reveal a book-lined room with a big oak desk. “It’s private and has a working fireplace.”

Allie walked inside to find Frankie Hogan standing alone in front of the fire. The Bellwether Club’s owner wore a fitted pale blue suit that brought an elegant shine to her silver hair. Frankie had surprised them all by bringing a guest to the wedding: Liam Keller, the coach for New York’s newest soccer team. It was clear from the way the Irishman had kept his arm around Frankie’s waist that they were more than old friends, despite her introduction of him as such. As soon as she said it, Liam had given the kind of smile that indicated he knew something she wasn’t admitting.

“Chloe and Nathan, I congratulate you on a lovely wedding,” Frankie said.

Chloe glowed and slipped her hand into the crook of Nathan’s elbow. “It’s the people here who make it wonderful.”

The CEO looked down at his new wife with adoration. “She and my father planned it like a military campaign, right down to the computer chips on the place cards.”

Allie had loved the whimsical touch of technology in tribute to Nathan’s inventive genius.

Frankie walked to the large oak desk at one end of the room. A sleek silver briefcase lay on its polished surface. Moving behind the desk, she opened the latches with a resounding click.

“Since you gentlemen have a flare for the dramatic, I will play along.” She flattened her palm on top of the case. “I have in here the envelopes containing each man’s stake in the infamous wager of hearts, made in the Bellwether Club last fall. Each of you”—she swept her gaze across the three men’s faces—“bet something that had intrinsic value, and, more important, deep personal significance to you. In addition, there was to be a substantial donation to a favorite charitable cause. Donations that I understand you have all made despite not losing the wager. I applaud your generosity.”

She paused, and Allie glanced around the room. Nathan stood ramrod straight with his hand curved over Chloe’s where it rested on his forearm. Luke had his arm around Miranda’s shoulders, snugging her up against his side while his pale blue eyes betrayed not a flicker of what he was thinking. Gavin had his fingers intertwined with hers, and she could feel the occasional increase in the pressure of his grip as he reacted to what Frankie was saying.

Frankie shook her head. “It was the strangest bet I’ve ever heard. Find true love in one year. The proof was serious: nothing less than an engagement ring on her finger.”

Gavin snorted. “That was inspired by Archer’s no-rings, no-strings policy.”

“It kept me out of trouble,” Luke said.

Frankie waited for the banter to cease. “I was sure you were all too drunk to know what you were doing,” she said.

“We were,” Nathan interjected.

Frankie continued. “I was going to tell you to go home and sleep it off. But I looked at your faces, and I saw something that stopped me. You all wanted that woman, the one who didn’t care about your wealth or your power or your fame. I understood, so I let you write your forfeits down. I became the adjudicator of the bet, a position I now consider an honor, although I was dubious at the time. However, I wanted to meet the women who were foolhardy enough to marry any of you.”