Sometime around Midnight - Anne Berkeley(ang

Table of Contents Table of Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24

Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Epilogue Note from Author Other Books by Anne Berkeley Acknowledgements

Sometime Around Midnight Written by Anne Berkeley Edited by Nikki Rose Copyright by Anne Berkeley 2017 Kindle Edition

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Table of Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23

Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Epilogue Note from Author Other Books by Anne Berkeley Acknowledgements

Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart. -Marcus Aurelius

Chapter 1 Taking one last perusal of my dorm room, I experienced a raw surge of emotion. I hadn’t expected to mourn over my departure from my college quarters, but I suppose it was understandable. In a sense, it was the end of my youth. Circling my hand over the growing swell of my stomach, I sighed. I had a responsibility for a life other than my own now. Gone were my nights of binge drinking and rolling out of bed at high noon. Soon, I’d be up to my ears in late night feedings and diaper changes. Having a baby fresh out of college wasn’t planned. Though, the baby was the least of my worries. His father was. “You all set?” Haris asked. Taking the last of my bags from my hand, he hitched the strap over his shoulder. “I can carry that myself.” He was already carrying my luggage. I could at least manage my tote. Reaching down, Haris gripped the two larger suitcases in his hands. “I know, but it’s the way I was raised.” He was raised upper crust. His family owned one of the largest hotel chains in the

country. He’d want for nothing in life. Except me, that is. Nonetheless, Haris had played his cards right. He’d bided his time until he had the upper hand, and then offered to step in and play the part as the father of my child. Haris wasn’t the father. Carter Strickland was. The problem was, Carter and my brother Jake were both members of Hautboy, one of the hottest bands gracing the music charts, and Jake had strict rules about his bandmates sleeping with his little sister. Meaning it wasn’t allowed. I was strictly off limits. No exceptions. Whatsoever. Desperate to hide the real father’s identity, I had agreed to Haris’s proposition. His offer didn’t come without stipulations, however. He wanted me to give him a chance. He didn’t want to play the part; he wanted to assume the actual role. He wanted to raise the baby together, like a family. I didn’t feel that way toward him. I’d told him as much. But he’d pleaded his case. And with hesitation, I’d agreed. Haris was a good guy. No, a great guy. He was dependable, considerate, far from ugly, and completely in love with me. I loved him. I just wasn’t in love with him. There was a huge difference between the two emotions. That right there was the catch twenty-two.

“Matilda?” Pulled from my musing, I tugged the handle. The heavy wood door closed with a thud, and that twinge of mourning returned, knowing I’d never return to my room again. As small as it was, I’d still miss the place. I’d spent a lot of time there with my friends, growing up and finding ourselves. Ok, so it was more than just a dorm. I’d come to college with a plan. I wasn’t simply finding myself. Up until about six months ago, I’d foolishly believed that I’d mature to be a beautiful, independent woman that could hold the attention of Carter Strickland. Not just capture it for a brief moment, but possess it for an undisclosed amount of time. To do that, I needed to shed my adolescence. I needed to be confident. I needed to have something his groupies didn’t: intelligence. It was all a delusion, of course. I knew that now. Jake had been right all along. They were musicians, and expecting them to settle down and remain faithful was asinine. Well, where Carter Strickland was concerned, Jake had been right. Tate Watkins, the band’s front man, was now married. Shane Richardson was committed, and had gone sober for his girl. Jake, himself, was recently engaged. Only Carter was holding out for the long haul. Six months ago, I’d confessed how I felt,

and he not only rejected me, but assured that a relationship with me was an impossibility. It would never happen. Ever. I’d matured, all right. Quickly. Carter had destroyed any vestige of innocence that college living hadn’t stripped bare. I’d grown. I’d matured. Just not in the manner I’d planned. Anyhow, Haris and the others had been there for me. We spent the weekend holed up in my dorm room, softening the blow to my pride with countless six-packs, a rather large bag of buds, and a multitude of snack foods. So, yeah, I was going to miss the place. It was the end of an era. Things were never going to be the same. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Haris asked. “I have to face him sooner or later.” “Not really. I could get a place for us here. You won’t ever have to see him again if you don’t want to.” “Haris.” The guy just didn’t get it. We’d discussed this already. Countless times. “He’s the baby’s father. As much as I dread it, I have to tell him.” Pensively, he stared, a thousand retorts perched on the tip of his tongue. “You don’t owe him anything, Matilda. He bailed on you.”

“I know that!” I snapped. Stepping around him, I strode down the hall. I knew quite well that Carter had ditched me. He made it clear what we’d done was a mistake, that I was Jake’s little sister, and it would never happen again. I’d never felt like such an idiot. I’d thrown myself at him, seduced him in the front seat of his car in the airport parking lot. I had been crying, having argued with Jake over my part in Tate’s psycho ex-girlfriend attacking his wife, Cooper. Jake blamed me for aggravating the situation by mouthing off. Never mind that I blamed myself. Whatever. Carter was just being nice, offering me solace. I’d taken advantage of the situation. I’d told him how I felt about him. Taken off guard, he’d been an easy mark. But the second we were finished doing the deed, he’d come to his senses. He practically pushed me out of the car and left me choking on a plume of burned rubber as he sped off. “Matilda!” Haris’s shoes scuffed the floor, tailing me down the hall. “Matilda, the guy’s a fucking idiot. He doesn’t deserve you.” Hiding my tears, I pressed the down button for the elevator, once, and then a second time. “What he deserves is irrelevant,” I muttered. “He didn’t want me.” “Like I said—the guy’s an idiot.” Dropping

my bags, Haris grabbed my arm and spun me around. His expression softened at the tears rimming my eyes. “I don’t want to do this,” I clarified. “I don’t want to see him again.” It was bad enough I thought about him every waking moment, and sometimes in my sleep. I didn’t want to face him in person. “Then don’t.” “I’m not crying over him,” I insisted, my jaw set. “I’m crying over the situation I put myself in. I feel so stupid. I’m pathetic. Tell me I’m not pathetic.” “You’re not pathetic. You’re human. Pathetic is preying on a girl’s hard luck for an in.” Cupping my chin, he dropped his head and kissed me. His lips were unmoving, testing to see how I’d receive him. Haris had tried to kiss me before. A few times, in fact. I’d always dodged his advances with a turn of my head. This time, however, I let him kiss me. Hell, anything to forget Carter Strickland. Parting my lips, I leaned into his kiss, resting my hand against his chest. Was that a spark I felt? Yes, it was a spark. It was small. A kindling. But it was definitely a spark. Sliding my tongue along his lower lip, I invited him in. Sparks grew

into fires, didn’t they? I just needed to be receptive. Perhaps he was right. If I stopped looking at him as a friend, my perception would shift. My feelings might grow. Haris had some serious sex appeal. With his black hair, olive skin, and green eyes, he didn’t want for attention. He had an exotic allure that he inherited from his Mediterranean parents. One was Italian. The other was…the hell if I could remember. At the time, all I thought of was Carter. But that was then. Things were different now. I was different. I forced myself to focus on Haris, who actually gave a damn. God knows, Carter didn’t. “Matilda,” he groaned, abandoning my lips. Drawing a sharp line across my jaw with his teeth, he pressed his body closer to mine. “I’m not beyond acts of desperation.” “Then we’re a pair.” “Deep down inside, I know I should take insult to that, but I’ve waited too long to kiss you to care.” Working his way back toward my lips, he threaded his fingers into my hair, and swept his tongue into my mouth. There it was, the spark. It wasn’t a full out blaze like Carter engendered, but it was palpable. I could live with that. It felt safe. In control. I could breathe. My heart didn’t want to beat its way from

my chest. Maybe Haris was exactly what I needed. A slow and steady simmer instead of a raging fire. My fingers curled into his shirt, trying to keep my balance. My weight was throwing me off center. Laughing, Haris guided me backward until my back rested against the wall. His hand strayed from my waist and roamed lower, cupping my ass as he ground his hips against mine. “Get a room,” someone carped, while lugging a small fridge onto the elevator. The dorm was nearly vacant, all but the occasional straggler removing the last of their belongings. I’d waited until the last minute myself, reluctant to face Jake again. And Carter. Ok, Carter a little more so than Jake. Breaking the kiss, albeit reluctantly, Haris let me go. “Everything’s going to be fine, Matilda. I’ll be there with you.” Pressing a kiss at the corner of my mouth, he lifted my bags and stepped toward the elevator. He dropped his foot along the track, holding the door for me. Shuffling past him and onto the elevator, I met the eyes of the other occupant. His gaze dropped to my waist and then focused over my shoulder. “Kovač.” “Fennec.” “I didn’t realize you were together.” Fennec

gestured to me as I pushed the button for the ground floor. The doors slid closed, and the car began to descend, causing my stomach to flutter. “Just recently.” “You didn’t waste any time.” He made it sound teasing, but I couldn’t help but take insult. His comment was a pat on Haris’s back and a stab in mine. Naturally, being a girl, I was the easy and irresponsible one. “Everything happens for a reason.” Fennec remained unconvinced. “If you say so, man.” His grin said that he wasn’t testing those waters anytime soon. An uncomfortable silence fell across us, and I was glad that the dorm was only two floors. The brakes kicked in and gravity once again took its toll, causing my stomach to flutter. A second later, the doors glided open. I exited first and stepped to the side, making way for Haris, who was still carrying all of the bags, and Fennec with his mini fridge. “Congratulations,” Fennec said, passing us by. “Or maybe I should say good luck.” “Congratulations works,” Haris replied. “Thanks.” Fennec lifted his hand in a half-hearted

wave. A few steps away, he muttered to himself, “Better you than me.” My mouth popped open to retort when Haris stepped into my line of vision, diffusing the situation. I stared up at him, my chin in the air. “I’d like to punch him in the back of the head.” “That’s a little underhanded, don’t you think?” “I’m a girl. We’re supposed to fight dirty.” “I thought this was where you were supposed to be practicing your unwavering maturity in preparation for parenthood.” He forced a smile, attempting to disguise his warning with humor, as if he was teasing me. My breath escaped in a choke. “I was kidding, Matilda,” Haris said, realizing his error. “No, you weren’t.” The one thing Haris didn’t have going for him was a sense of humor. Don’t get me wrong, he laughed, but he didn’t have that quick wit like my usual choice of friends. He was more the austere, spoon-fed type, with the poise of a politician or a businessman. “It was a joke, albeit poorly timed.” Sure. “You were making a point in the guise of a joke. Not quite the same thing.”

At a loss for words, Haris’s shoulders slumped. “Relax, Haris, you’re right. In fact, maybe if I was more mature I wouldn’t be in this predicament in the first place.” Facetiously, I smiled and cuffed his shoulder. “Now there’s a truth veiled with humor.” Indignant, I stalked off. “I didn’t mean it like that. Damn it! Matilda!” “You mean you weren’t insinuating that I was brash and immature, and I was going to be a terrible mother?” I tossed over my shoulder. “No!” Pushing through the vestibule doors, I passed Fennec and his mini fridge. His neck craned, hearing my approach. He watched me go by. Behind me, Haris struggled through the door with my luggage. “Matilda!” “Hey Kovač!” Fennec called. “Like I said, good luck. They don’t call her Matilda the Hun for no reason.” “Shut the fuck up, Fennec.” Matilda the Hun? I filed that away for later. “Matilda, come on. I’m just saying that kids are like sponges. They repeat everything they hear

and see. How’s it going to look when he’s running around punching everyone in the back of the head?” Reaching the car, I turned and leaned against the bumper. I wasn’t mad. I was upset, because he had a point. I needed to grow up, leave my immaturity behind. I needed to be a role model for my child. I had to rise above idiots like Fennec or…Amanda Keller, and not let them goad me into lowering myself to their level. Amanda was one of Tate’s exes. She had come to his concert in Missoula with the intention of reclaiming Tate’s attention for herself. When things didn’t go according to plan, she opted to waylay Cooper backstage, attacking from another angle. Her aggression continued as we joined the audience. In response to which, I flipped her the bird and told her to fuck off. This unintentionally incited a small riot. Amanda seized the opportunity to shank Coop in the throat with a broken bottle, threatening her singing career, if not her life. To this day, I felt immeasurable guilt for my participation. Jake hadn’t needed to point out that I’d added fuel to the fire. If I wouldn’t have gotten involved, Coop wouldn’t have had to intervene. But I’d been drinking, and I picked a fight with Amanda. I’d acted brashly and immaturely. And because of it, Coop had gotten seriously hurt.

Haris was right. I did need to grow up. “I’m sorry,” I said, looking up. I unraveled my fingers from the hem of my sweater and smoothed it out. “I suppose you struck a nerve.” Haris shifted his weight, looked away. “No, I’m sorry,” he countered. “I shouldn’t have said that. I think you’ll be a wonderful mother.” “You’re right, though. I need to start watching what I say, and you shouldn’t be afraid to speak the truth.” Guiltily, my gaze dropped to the ground. “You don’t have to do this,” I said, offering him another chance to bow out. “It’s not like I’m destitute and alone.” I was lucky. Aside from Jake being overbearing, he was actually supportive. I mean, he wasn’t happy about the pregnancy, but he wasn’t going to kick me out onto the street. “I’m not folding, not that easily.” “I’m not easy to get along with.” “I’m aware.” “I don’t know if I can change.” “I’m not asking you to. I love you the way you are. I have my own faults, but there’s a time and a place to let yourself go.” “I have my bachelors in education, Haris,” I retorted. “I’m a teacher. I know how to conduct myself in front of children.”

“Your job is about to become twenty-four seven.” “I’ll have to make sure I take full advantage of nap and bedtime to get all the smoking and swearing out of my system.” Haris’s lips twisted upward. He dropped my bags to the ground, and stepped toward me. “You don’t smoke.” “Then I can swear twice as much.” “I can think of much better ways to spend nap time,” Haris suggested, stepping closer. “Though, it might involve a measure of swearing if you’re inclined.” “If I’m never inclined?” I inquired. I had to ask since we were airing our concerns. It was a possibility that the spark might fizzle. “Then I’ll do the swearing.” Reaching for me, he pulled me against his chest. The rear door of the SUV opened behind me. Before releasing me again, he pressed a chaste kiss to my lips. “You felt something, Matilda, enough to kiss me back. That’s a start.” “You're too good for me, Haris.” “You undervalue yourself.” How could I not? Carter Strickland destroyed any sense of worth.

“Is everything settled?” he inquired, meeting my eyes again. “Are we good to go?” “I suppose.” “Then get in the truck. I promised your brother I’d have you home by noon.” Lifting the first of my bags, he slid it into the cargo space. “You talked to my brother.” A frisson of discomfort rippled down my spine. “Last week sometime. We exchanged numbers at graduation.” “I didn't realize you were on a one to one basis with him.” “We’re dating, Matilda, and having a baby. It would be a little odd if we didn't exchange numbers.” But we weren't dating, and the baby wasn't really his, not at the time. I guess it was moot. That was then. This was now. For all intents and purposes we were together. “What does he have planned?” “Nothing big. Your gram and a few friends are coming to welcome you home.” “Ugh.” I just wanted to crawl in a hole and die. “I changed my mind. I don't want to go home.” Grabbing my other bag, I hefted it off the ground and began lugging it back toward the dorm. He was

going to be there. It was going to be a catastrophe. I just knew it. Carter wasn't one to curb himself. “You're going to hurt yourself,” Haris chided, prying the bag from my hand. “And we really do need to go, or we’ll be late.” “This sucks.” “Could be worse.” Tossing the last bag in the back, Haris followed me around the passenger’s side and opened the door. “I couldn't possibly see how.” “They wanted to come pick you up in the tour bus.” “Ok, it could be worse.” A lot worse. “Thank you for talking him out of that. I'm eternally grateful.” “That’s what I’m here for.” Grasping the handle above the passenger door, I pulled myself up into the seat. Haris was there to assist, ever the gentleman. Our eyes met briefly before he looked away. That glance said a thousand words. This wasn’t a game. He was vested emotionally. He wasn’t just trying to get me in bed. Reaching down, he yanked the seatbelt from behind the seat and passed it to me. “Buckle up.”

“Haris.” I grasped his hand before he could walk away. They were smooth, yet strong. Carter’s hands were callused from playing guitar. I couldn't help comparing the two. Didn't matter, though. Only one of them was here. Haris stared at my hand and then looked up, meeting my eyes. “Thank you.” “You don’t have to thank me. I love you, Matilda.” He pressed a quick kiss to my brow and took a step back. “Watch your hands.” As I rested my hands on my lap, he pushed the door closed, and then rounded the truck. A second later, he slid into the driver’s seat. “So...” I began, steering the conversation toward safer waters. Haris looked up from sliding the keys into the ignition. He shifted the gear into reverse. “Why do they call me Matilda the Hun?” A contrite smile teased his lips. “Because you instill widespread fear among men, and it's said that you can only be conquered by one.” “That’s a terrible analogy.” It was fair to say, I’d been conquered, alright. Looking over his shoulder, he backed out of the parking space. His eyes met mine one more time before turning and focusing on the road. “I’m not looking to rape and plunder, Matilda. I want to rule by your side.”

Chapter 2 Pulling into the driveway, I searched far and wide, but not one car lined the street. The neighbor was having his lawn trimmed. Another was carrying bags of groceries into the house. Cicadas chattered in the distance as Gram’s sprinklers sprayed over the pink azaleas edging the front of the house. Everything seemed weirdly usual for a welcome home party. As we rounded the corner of the house, Jake stepped through the back door. Gram shoved him impatiently aside, beaming widely. Her arm rose into the air, waving enthusiastically. Haris rolled to a stop and shifted to look at me. “Go ahead. I’ll carry the bags in.” “Leave the bags. I want you to meet my gram.” Leaning over, I kissed the corner of his jaw. “You’re going to love her. She’s amazing.” “If she raised you…” I smiled widely. “She taught me everything I know.” “I like her already.” “Come on.” Insistently, I tugged his sleeve.

“I’ll be right behind you.” Nodding his head toward the passenger door, he smiled. “Go see your grandmother.” “Gram. She would die if you called her grandmother.” “Mattie Whalen, I’m sixty-five years old,” Gram chided. “I’ll be dead and buried if you make me wait any longer.” “Nonsense,” I said, sliding from the truck. “It’s in your will to be cremated.” She said she wanted her ashes scattered over the top of grandpa’s dresser. He hated dust, and she wanted the last laugh after having to dust the thing for forty-eight years. “Besides, you’re seventy-five.” “Shush, child. A lady has to keep some secrets to herself and her age is one of them.” Gram hugged me long and hard before backing me to arm’s length. “What’s wrong? You should be glowing.” “A lady has to keep some secrets to herself.” “Jake,” said Gram, looping her arm around mine. “Help Mattie’s friend with her bags while we catch up.” “Sure, Gram.” Hesitating, he stared, indignant that I was keeping secrets from him. When Gram started leading me toward the house,

he shook his head and stalked off. “You haven’t told Carter yet,” Gram surmised. Her tone was disapproving. No surprise there. Other than my roommates, Gram was the only one that knew who the real father was. Despite maintaining my secret, she’d pressured me on several occasions to disclose everything to Carter. She was right, of course. But I couldn’t bring myself to face him again. “No.” “You know he’s going to eat your friend alive.” “Haris? I warned him, but he wouldn’t be dissuaded.” “Of course not. A fool could see he’s in love with you.” Pausing at the back door, Gram turned me toward her, lowering her voice to a soft whisper. “I raised you better than to play with a boy’s feelings, Mattie.” “It’s not like that.” “You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me. I’ve lived and loved long before you were ever born. And I can promise you, this won’t end well.” “I like him, Gram. He’s a good guy.” “You’re in love with Carter, Matilda. You have been since I can remember.”

I flinched over the use of my full name. Gram never used anyone’s full name unless she was truly upset. Naturally, I went on the defensive. “I don’t want someone who doesn’t want me! Especially over some grossly misguided sense of honor! Jesus, Gram, we live in the twenty-first century. I don’t need a man! I can support myself.” Tears blurred my vision. “I'm not trapping him into marrying me.” Gram’s eyes softened. Reaching out, she grasped my hand. “I’m not going to tell you what to do. I can only point you in the right direction. That’s why I’m giving you the house.” Raising my hand, she dropped a set of keys into my palm. “I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything, whether it’s Carter or…” “Haris, Gram.” “I don’t care if it’s Larry, Curly or Moe. I don’t want you to settle for anything less than you deserve. I want you to be happy.” “So, you’re giving me your house?” I choked, wiping the tears from my face. “What about Jake and Paisley? They just got engaged.” “Jake has the money to buy a dozen houses. Besides, it’s too big for him. He and Paisley don’t want children.” Nostalgically, Gram stared up at the house. “A house like this should be filled with

them.” “I don’t know what to say.” “‘Thanks’ usually works,” said Jake, climbing the stairs of the porch. Stopping just shy, he placed the bags down. “You didn’t spare any time,” Gram chided. She dealt me a look that said this conversation wasn’t over. “I told you to give us a few minutes.” “How much time do you need? Harry and I had a whole conversation.” “Haris,” Haris corrected. Smiling politely, he offered his hand to my gram. “Hi, ma’am. Nice to finally meet you.” “Likewise, Haris.” “I’ve heard a lot about you.” “Oh, dear, don’t believe everything she told you,” Gram warned, playing coy. “It was all good,” Haris assured, quick to allay Gram’s unease. Lord, he really didn’t know my gram at all. She was going to play him like a fiddle. “Then definitely don’t believe a thing she told you!” Gram cackled. “If it was good, not a word of it was true!” Carter would’ve taken Gram in an embrace

and dipped her back for a kiss, but Haris just smiled politely. I hated myself for making the comparison. The better man was here by my side. “I see where Matilda gets her personality.” Jake barked in laughter. “Don’t trust either of them. They’ll chew you up, spit you out, and use your bones to pick their teeth when they were done with you.” “Sweetie,” Gram drawled. “You flatter me.” Jake quirked his brow in Haris’s direction. “It’s the O’Connor blood. Makes them untamable. Consider it a warning before you make yourself part of this family.” Jake’s words were like a Brazilian—a quick shock of pain that left you breathless and unable to speak. Mother fuck it all to hell. If Haris proposed, I might just die. Humiliation warred with horror in the pit of my stomach, threatening to oust my breakfast in the most dramatic way possible. “Mattie?” Jake stared at me, his brows furrowed. Snapping out of it, I forced a smile. “I’m fine. Nerves, you know? This is a lot to take in. I was expecting a homecoming party, not the title to the house.” “I told you she needed a day to rest before

having everyone over,” Gram scolded. “You’d have overwhelmed her.” “They always have to be right, too,” Jake scoffed, tossing Haris a withering glance. “We planned a party, but Coop wasn’t feeling well. She’s been having contractions. Paisley went with Emily and Shane back to Tate’s house to be with her.” “Is she ok?” I asked. “Paisley said she’s at thirty-six weeks. She’s safe to deliver if she goes into full labor.” Lifting my bags, Jake jerked his head in the direction of the door. “I’m headed over there as soon as you’re settled in; I wanted to be here to welcome you home.” I separated one of the keys on the keyring. “You can go if you want. Haris and I can take the bags.” “I can manage the bags, Matilda. You’re still my little sister.” “Much to my disappointment, I imagine that’ll always be the case.” Peering surreptitiously through the window, I palmed the handle, trying to make out if there was anyone inside. Jake, Haris, and Gram snickered. “I told you the party got cancelled,” Jake apologized. He wasn’t sorry, because he was still laughing at me.

“Shut up.” Turning the handle, I pushed the door open. I was met with silence and several untouched platters of hors d'oeuvres. “We should put it away before it spoils,” Gram observed. “Jake, why don’t you let Haris take those bags upstairs while you help with all this here?” Denying Jake the chance to object, she grabbed the first platter and shoved it into his hands. “Just go to the top of the stairs, Haris. Mattie’s bedroom is the first door on the right. Yours is the second.” And just like that, Gram effectively cockblocked Haris. “Yes ma’am.” Obediently, Haris picked up the bags where Jake had dropped them, and headed up the stairs. About half way up, he stole a glance over his shoulder, the hint of a grin toying at his lips. “You know they’re going to bang in every room of the house the minute we leave,” Jake voiced, stuffing the first tray into the fridge. Lifting the plastic wrap, he stole a wedge of cheese. “You seem awful understanding over that,” I observed. It was a shame he couldn’t be that understanding over any man I chose. He only approved of Haris because he was ‘respectable.’ “And you’re oddly unargumentative over

Gram’s rules.” “I’m not exactly the epitome of lust right now, Jake.” “Who are you kidding? I saw the way he just looked at you.” “He did not.” “Keep lying to yourself.” Biting into the wedge of cheese, he leaned against the counter. “You should see Tate and Coop. The two can’t keep their hands off each other.” “Whatever.” Grabbing the tray of vegetables, I carried it over to the fridge, and toed the door open with the tip of my shoe. “Besides, it’s like you said. We’ll just wait till Gram leaves.” “You’ll do no such thing.” I turned and found Gram giving me the mother lode of all evil eyes. “You might already be pregnant, Matilda Whalen, but two wrongs don’t make a right.” “On that note, I'm outta here,” Jake said, tapping out. “I’ve had this argument already. I'm not doing it again. I’d have better luck herding cats.” Grabbing a handful of cookies from the dessert tray, he kissed my cheek and headed for the door. “Tomorrow—if Coop’s not in labor, we’re reconvening at Tate’s house. I'll pick you up and help with the food.”

“Great.” “Good luck, Gram. God knows, you’ll need it.” I huffed in complaint and grabbed another tray from the counter. Stuffing it into the fridge, I bided my time until Jake pulled down the driveway. “Is this a condition that comes with the house?” “Of course not.” “Good, because I have enough money saved to get my own place.” “Don’t be stubborn. I’m looking out for your welfare.” “I’m an adult, Gram. You can’t tell me who I can and can’t date.” “No, I can’t, but I’m still your gram. It’s my job to talk sense into you when you’re making a mistake. That’s why I’ll be staying here until you have a clear head and can make a sound decision.” Sighing, I dropped my head into my hand. I had Jake telling me I couldn't date his friends, and Gram telling me I couldn't date mine. Wonderful. Just wonderful. “And don't think about sneaking into Jake’s room. I'll hear everything. I'm sleeping just across the hall.” “Gram!” Now she was going overboard.

“Don't sass me, Matilda.” Her tone brooked no argument. I knew Gram when she was dead set on something. She wasn’t about to bend. The fight bled out of me. I knew a lost cause when I saw one. Dropping into the closest chair, I purloined a pretzel from a serving bowl. Sulking, I plunged it into the sour cream dip and stuffed it into my mouth. “I'm not going to have sex with him while you're in the house. You might as well sleep in your own room.” Gram smiled at the pout in my voice. From the cupboard, she retrieved a smaller bowl and proceeded to dump some of the pretzels into it before storing the rest away. She knew she’d won. “I can’t, actually. I gave Jake the bedroom set.” “I love that bedroom set.” I hated that bedroom set, but I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. It was thick and heavy. Too masculine. It was more befitted to someone in the likes of Dracula or Henry the VIII. Unconcerned, Gram waved off my grievance. “It wasn’t your style. It wasn’t my style. Your grandfather picked it out. I hated the thing. It was extravagant and out of place.” “Doesn’t matter. I can use the money I had set aside for the apartment to buy a new one.” “Nonsense. I’ve already hired a decorator

to come in and refurnish it. She’ll be here next week with a few drawings.” Temporarily quelled, Gram sat across from me. She stared wistfully, seeing what I couldn’t—or refused—to see. “Put your money into savings. You’ll need it.” “Is that the last of your sage advice for the day?” Gram chuckled lowly, her eyes glinting with humor. “Sweetheart, you’ll receive my last bit of sage advice when I’m laid out on my deathbed.” Unhappily, I stuffed another pretzel into my mouth. “Tell me about Harvey.” “Haris.” “What do you two have in common?” “Eating. Sleeping. Breathing.” “Matilda.” “What?” I objected. “What do any people my age have in common? We party all night, sleep all day, and scrape meals together based on what leftovers are in the fridge.” It wasn’t like I had anything in common with Carter, except for my brother’s mutual acquaintance. “What was his major in college?” “Business.” I did know that much. “He’s

planning on working for his father as a regional manager.” “Where is that?” “Sacramento.” “That’s a hell of a commute.” “We haven’t gotten that far yet.” “Do you think he’s going to give up his family’s business to live here in Seattle?” “Is that why you’re giving me the house?” She was trying to prove a point. Unfortunately, she was succeeding. Not that I’d admit it. I wanted to raise my kids in Gram’s house. I wanted a house full of them. “Don’t be foolish. I told you why I was giving you the house. Besides, you always said you wanted it.” “I do.” “How does he feel about children?” “I think that’s obvious.” “One child is different than a house full of them.” “These are all things that any normal couple would discuss.” “But you haven’t yet.”

“We haven’t had the chance. We just started dating.” “You’ve been ‘dating’ almost six months.” “We’ve been taking it slow.” “Matilda.” Gram looked at me, rebuke clear in her eyes. “I’m not telling you to stop…or end this…whatever this is you’re doing, but he goes home Monday. He can stay the weekend, but I put my foot down on moving in together. The two of you can date properly first.” “Fine.” “You should at least know these things about one another before making any kind of commitments, don’t you think?” “We’re not making any commitments! We’re dating!” “He asked for my ring.” She said each word concisely, letting it sink in. I blanched, my fears confirmed. “Fuck,” Gram allowed. “Go ahead, you can say it.”

Chapter 3 In the dark of night, I lay in bed, sleep evading me like that stray fucking cat that used to sit on my doorstep every afternoon. She always sat within reach, while dodging my hand every time I stretched to pet her. No matter how patient I was, no matter how still I sat, she tucked tail and ran at the first sign of interest. I didn’t even have to move. It was as if she could read my thoughts. Yeah, sleep was like that. A real fucking bitch. Throwing the sheets back, I slid from the bed. My door opened with a traitorous squeak. I glanced at Haris’s door, and then padded down the stairs, heading for the kitchen. When I turned the corner, he was waiting at the island with a pint of French vanilla ice cream and a pair of spoons. “Couldn't sleep?” he asked. “No.” “Me neither.” My frown deepened. “I feel horrible.” “Because you’re taking your grandmother’s advice?” Absently, he stabbed at the pint of ice cream, refusing to look at me.

“I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do.” Despite my will, a few tears slipped down my cheeks. I covered my mouth, trying to repress a sniffle. “Hey.” Circling the island, Haris wrapped his arms around me and drew my head against his chest. “I’m sorry.” “What’re you apologizing for?” “Complicating things.” Dropping his head, he pressed his face into my hair. “I should give you some space to think, but I can’t help myself.” “If I didn’t want you around, I’d tell you to fuck off, Haris.” Lifting my hand, I swabbed the tears from my cheek. “But I do think my gram’s right. We need to take this slow.” “I’m not going to hurt you, Matilda.” “I’m not worried about me.” Sighing disconsolately, Haris loosened his grip and grasped my hand. “Come sit outside with me. I saw a swing out on the back porch when we came in.” “It’s three in the morning.” “I have two days to make you fall in love with me. I plan to make good use of them.” Tugging my arm, he led me outside, taking care to be quiet when opening the door.

The air was warm and smelled of flowers and freshly laid mulch. As we sat on the swing, the joists complained with a deep rumble. I stared tartly, offended. “I think the two of us are testing its limits,” Haris observed. “Shut up.” “Oh, come on, Matilda, I weigh more than you do.” Skeptically, I looked at him. “I’m pretty sure I have you by ten pounds.” “You’re pregnant.” “I’m going to get bigger.” Carter would’ve said he’d brace the supports with a thicker chain and a couple of two by fours. I could almost hear his snarky tone. Mentally, I slapped myself hard across the face. “You’ll bounce back. I did.” I snorted and glanced askance. “I didn’t know you had children.” “I was fat when I was a kid. My mom used to call me ‘husky,’ but I was fat. I can admit it.” “I don’t believe it.” “I was,” he said matter of factly. “And short

too.” “Now I know you’re pulling my leg.” “I’m serious. I got picked on constantly. At first it was just name-calling, but as I got older, it turned physical. So, I signed up for boxing. And I worked out. A lot. Once I hit puberty, I shot up like a weed and firmed up.” “Give a hand of applause to puberty.” Testing the rafters, Haris pushed back. We swung forward with a lazy glide. “See? All safe.” “Do you want kids, Haris?” I asked impulsively. There was no point in beating around the bush. If we didn’t have the same goals, I didn’t want to waste our time with this charade. Haris chewed his lip, pondering my question. “I hadn’t really given it a thought until a few months ago. I mean, I think it’s always a supposition in the back of your mind that you’re going to have them, but you always hide behind your age as an excuse to why you’re not ready.” “If you want me, you need to be ready.” In a couple short months, it was happening whether he was ready or not. “I said I hadn’t given it a thought until a few months ago, but since then, I’ve thought about it a lot.” Placing his hand on my stomach, he

smoothed his palm over the circumference. “How many kids do you want?” “One of each sounds reasonable.” “It’s unrealistic,” I snorted. “It’s not like you can choose the sex.” “I know, but it paints a nice picture.” “So, you want two.” “It’s hard to be at ballet, baseball, and band practice all at once. I mean, you can only split yourself so many ways.” He had a point there. “You really want a house full of them,” he stated, as if I hadn’t put much thought into my decision. “Jake and I are eight years apart in age. He didn’t have time to hang out with his little sister. On occasion, he toted me along if Gram had plans. When he did, the guys were cool. It was like having four big brothers. They made me feel like part of the gang. I loved it. I decided a long time ago that I wanted that—a big family. I want lots of kids, and close in age.” “Having a big family can have its flaws too. You can ask Paisley. Jake said she was one of thirteen.”

Nose wrinkling with discontent, I glanced up at Haris. “It’s a little scary that you know so much about me and my family while I know barely anything about you.” “I’m trying to rectify that now.” “I think it’s my problem to rectify. Not yours.” Twirling his fingers between mine, he lifted them to his lips and pressed a kiss lightly against my knuckles. “It’s ok, Matilda.” “We’ve been friends for three years and I don’t know your favorite food, your favorite color, or sport. What kind of friend am I?” “The kind that was in love with someone else.” My frown deepened. “You’re too understanding.” “You say whatever comes to mind.” “It’s called honesty.” “That’s what I love about you.” “Really?” I contested. He was going to eat those words. “If you propose, I’m not going to say yes.” Patiently, Haris smiled. “Ever?” “You asked for my grandmother’s ring!”

“You mentioned it once.” “I had some crazy notion that Carter was going to give it to me when he proposed! It was a stupid dream. I was immature, and it was farfetched.” “It meant something to you.” “Well romanticism is cliché. It doesn’t anymore.” “You’re saying that because you’re hurt.” “Maybe, but it has nothing to do with why I’m not marrying you.” Pushing off the deck once again, Haris maintained a slow glide. “I like soft-shells. Fried. I don’t normally eat fried foods. Because my weight, you know?” Smiling waggishly, he glanced in my direction. “But I splurge with soft-shells when they’re in season.” “I love fried food. Try to take it away from me, and I might cut you.” “I don’t have a favorite color,” he continued, ignoring my facetious warning. “I’m color blind.” “I knew that.” I felt a sudden moment of pride. I wasn’t completely oblivious. The first time Jake had met Haris, I had been irresolute over what to wear. I had asked Haris whether he liked the

purple sweater or the red one better. Typical Haris said it didn’t matter, that I looked nice in both. Typical Matilda got annoyed with his courteous response and pursued the conversation until he confessed he was color blind. In the end, he’d said to go with red. He’d heard blondes in red were sexy. I’d gone with the purple. “I don’t like sports. All jocks. Too many bad memories.” “A grudge after all these years?” “I still don’t wear underwear. It’s a deep seated aversion after years of wedgies.” “So you’re naked under those clothes.” “I’m pretty sure everyone is naked under their clothes.” “You know what I mean.” Scooting closer, I tilted my head, staring up at him from under my lashes. Haris stared down at me, his breath brushing over my face with a warm caress. Wondering if I still had any appeal, I wet my lower lip, pulling it between my teeth. I wasn’t sure if Jake’s rationale held true if it wasn’t Haris’s baby I was carrying. Maybe it was only true for the biological father. Some primordial attraction to the female carrying his progeny.

Haris dropped his head, pressing his lips to mine, a slow moan rolling up his throat. I took that as an affirmative. Bolstering my observation, he reached down and guided me onto his lap, his gaze never abandoning mine. His pupils widened, eclipsing his irises in their inky depths when I didn’t protest. As his tongue thrust against mine, he angled his head, deepening the kiss. My eyes drifted closed, dissecting every emotion coursing through my mind. What we shared wasn’t fevered or desperate. It was slow and lazy like a warm summer night. A slow burn. Breaking the kiss, Haris held my gaze as his hand inched up my thighs, watching for some sign of refusal. My feeling of safety snapped, a weak thread. I grasped his wrist, hindering his explorations. “Please, Mattie,” he begged. “Jesus, I’ve wanted this for so fucking long. Just let me touch you.” Kissing my jaw, he flicked his tongue, closing his teeth over my skin. “I’m not going to hurt you.” I was about to release his hand when a flash of red caught my eye. It was no lightning bug. It arched toward the ground and burst into cinders, small but bright in the dark of night. With a shock, I released Haris from my grip and sat up. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, misreading me.

“I shouldn’t have pushed.” “It’s not that. Someone’s in the yard.” “Where?” I pointed to the far right corner, just within the trees. “There’s a small path there that leads along the neighbor’s house and to the block behind us.” Just as I spoke, a shadow crossed beneath a pale streak of moonlight. “Go inside,” Haris commanded, helping me off his lap. “What’re you doing?” “Going after them.” “Don’t be stupid!” It was too late. He was already halfway down the stairs. I don’t know why I wasted my breath. “You could get hurt!” “Go inside, Matilda!” Loping across the lawn, he didn’t look back. I watched as he vanished in the dark before I headed into the house. Gram was standing in the kitchen when I closed the door behind me. Ignoring her, I pushed back the curtain and peered out the window, but she flicked on the light, blinding my sight. “What happened?” she asked. “Nothing. We were just talking.” “Where’s Henry?”

“Haris.” “By the sound of things, you weren’t sending him home.” “We were talking!” “Matilda, I have the Whisper 2000. I can hear a mosquito belch from across the room. Unless I’m mistaken and you were breaking the news gently, you were definitely not saying goodbye.” “Oh! My! God!” I exclaimed. “Where is he—cooling himself off?” “No! Someone was in the yard, watching us! He ran after them!” “Oh dear.” Joining me at the door, Gram grasped my concern. “Which direction did they go?” “Through the Carson’s yard, toward Clancy.” “Can you see them?” “No, because you turned on the light!” Urging me on, she flicked the switch off. Just as I pulled the curtains back, a form came into view. I hadn’t been expecting to see anyone, let alone an arm’s distance away, so I screamed, lodging my heart in my throat. Equally startled, Gram echoed my cry with her own.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” Gram hollered, grasping her chest. “You nearly gave me a coronary, Mattie! You can't do that to someone my age!” Reaching for the closest thing, she took up a ladle as a weapon. “Matilda?” Haris called from outside. Concerned, he rapped on the glass. “Matilda, open the door! It’s me, Haris.” Disengaging the lock, I tugged the door open. Haris stepped inside and panned the room. “Everything all right?” “Yeah, did you find anyone?” “No, it was too dark. They got away.” “I’m going to set the alarm,” Gram said. “You can never be too safe. Especially after what happened to Paisley at that club. That man’s out on bail, you know.” ‘That man’ was a porn actor that couldn’t take no for an answer. Paisley met him at Jake’s club. When Jake apprised her of his identity and metaphorically pissed on his territory, it only increased the stakes, so to speak. Cade apparently loved a challenge. Fast forward a few weeks, he’d almost seized his prize when Paisley showed up at the club alone. He’d drugged and attempted to rape her in the penthouse upstairs. Luckily, Jake had been close by and was able to intervene before

Cade could accomplish his goal. “I doubt he’s going to go looking for trouble, Gram. He sounded like more of an opportunist.” “Don’t discount the avarice of a desperate man, Matilda. That man had it out for your brother for stepping between Paisley and himself. And there’s nothing more opportunistic than you staying in this house alone.” “Well thanks.” That just gave me the warm and fuzzies all over. “Just because you might not want to hear it, doesn’t make it any less true. There’re some real mental cases out there. And violence has touched too many people close to us already.” “Your brother’s the keyboardist for a worldfamous rock band,” Haris agreed. “Their fans can draw a lot of unwanted attention.” Turning, Gram headed toward the alarm panel. She dropped the ladle back into its holder along the way. “Maybe you’ll listen to Henry. God knows, you don’t listen to me.” Haris’s eyebrow quirked in doubt. Patiently, he waited for Gram to leave the room before returning his attention to me. “You shouldn’t argue with your grandmother.”

“Really?” I challenged. “Then when you go home Sunday night, you won’t mind leaving me in this house all alone while knowing some stranger is lurking around my backyard?” “That’s not fair.” “Or maybe you should just go home tonight, since we shouldn’t be dating.” Shamelessly, I smirked from under my lashes. “I can’t be trusted to make a sound decision, you know.” “Matilda Whalen!” Gram called from the next room. “I think you teased that boy enough for one night! Now go on back to bed or you’ll be calling me roomie instead of neighbor!” Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. “She’s complete evil.”

Chapter 4 Following Jake up Tate’s driveway, I searched for Carter’s telltale sport car. The problem was, there were a whole bunch of new cars, and there was no telling which was his. I’d never taken Shane for driving a Bentley or a Jaguar, or Tate a Beamer, but there they sat, lining the driveway in front of his Seattle suburb home. With the twins coming, I guess Tate’s Ducati days were over. At least someone had a lick of sense. I should’ve fallen for him. Every girl fell for the front man. No, I had to fall for the cocky bassist. “Nice Maserati,” Haris observed. I turned my head. It was a sporty and sleek machine in graphite gray and trimmed with chrome accents. She was just Carter’s style. A perfect balance of sophistication, combined with the promise of a good time. My stomach curled. A sweat broke out across my forehead. “Haris, I’ll reconsider marrying you if you turn around right now and take me away from here.” “Too late.” Tate and Shane stepped out the back door and headed straight for our car. “They

saw us.” “God hates me.” “You’re not religious.” “When the Big Man upstairs constantly tests your faith, you tend to question His existence.” We rolled to a stop behind Jake’s pickup. Tate passed between us and tugged my door open. “Bratty Mattie!” “Oh, I’ve graduated. They now call me Matilda the Hun.” Tate barked in laughter, and helped me from the truck. His gaze zeroed in on my stomach, widening amusedly. “Jesus, lookit you!” “I know, right? I can barely see my feet.” I wiggled said appendages, trying futilely to see them past the circumference of my stomach. “You’ve got nothing on Coop.” “How is she feeling?” “Ready.” “Understandable. So when’s the big day?” “Monday.” Tate’s smile faltered, visibly unnerved. From what Jake had told me, Coop had two surgeries to repair the damage to her throat. This will have been the third time Tate watched her

go under the knife since they’d met. “She’ll be fine. It’s all routine.” “I know. I know. What about you—when’re you due?” “Late September.” Late August, really. But I was lying. It was too easy to put two and two together. That would take me back to November. Thanksgiving. Missoula. “I can’t get my head around little Mattie having a baby,” said Shane. “The thought just blows my mind.” I smirked at Shane and stuck out my tongue. “Maybe I feel the same way about your short hair. It’s mindboggling. The bad-boy drummer turned pussycat.” Shane flashed a shy smile. “Em wasn’t keen on the long hair.” My smile widened, causing his face to flush with color. “My God, he did it for love! I’d have never taken you for the romantic!” Stealing me from under Tate’s arm, Shane wrapped me in a hug. I knew he was just trying to shut me up, because he crammed my face into his chest. “Good to see you again, kiddo.” “Same,” I mumbled. “You’re not going to let it rest, are you?”

“Not a chance. The chompers look good too. That's a snazzy smile you've got there.” “Thanks.” Contrary to his words, he rasped my scalp with his knuckles. Yelping, I wriggled from his grip and began to smooth my hair. “Geez, take a compliment.” “Who’s your friend, Mattie?” Shane said, diverting the attention from himself. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?” “Sure.” Pointing dumbly at Haris, I flubbed my way through an introduction. “This is Haris. He’s um…” “Her boyfriend,” Haris explained. Extending his arm, he shook Shane, and then Tate’s hand. “Pleased to meet you. I’m a huge fan.” “Thanks, man.” Taking his hand back, Tate gestured toward the back yard. “We should go around back. Coop’s hanging out by the pool with the little man.” “Everyone here?” I inquired. Carter, particularly. “The whole gang?” “Yeah. I think Carter just headed down to the studio. He was sulking cause Paisley decked him after he threw her into the pool.” “She just had her hair touched up.” Jake shook his head. He handed a tray of cold cuts to

Tate, and large salad bowl to Shane. A third tray of bread and rolls, he lifted from the tailgate of his truck. “He should know better than to fuck with her around the pool water.” “Well, Carter was never one to respect anyone’s space,” Tate said, as if it excused his friend’s lack of good judgement. “You have to expect trouble when he’s around.” Wasn’t that the truth. As we rounded the corner of the house, I could hear Levy’s screams and peals of excitement. A tall, lanky boy with blonde hair was in the pool, standing several yards away from another guy, who was helping Levy swim. The taller of the two’s arms were outstretched, as if searching, but unable to see anything. A few seconds later, he called, “Marco.” Levy responded, “Poe-whoa,” and then squealed in fright as the taller boy lunged for him in the water. The second guy lifted Levy in the air and tossed him across the pool, away from the hunter’s arms. Levy went under water for a moment, but quickly resurfaced, his head bobbing in the water. Despite his wide grin, he didn’t make a peep of sound and give himself away. “That’s Jaxon,” Tate explained. “We picked him up in Eugene. He’s going to play drums for

Coop.” “He can’t see well,” Shane expounded. “But he’s kinda self-conscious about it, so don’t say anything. Although, if you see something in his path, warn him so he doesn’t trip.” “What happened to him?” “Cataracts. He just had surgery.” “He kicks ass at the drums, though,” Tate voiced. “His sight doesn’t slow him down on stage. The guy’s a natural.” “The other one’s Peter,” Jake pointed out. “Paisley’s brother. Carter’s been working with him on bass.” “Merda! Is that Mattie?” Em’s voice cut above the others in a trill of excitement. Rising from her lounge chair, she abandoned the shade and circled the pool. “Prepare,” Shane warned. “There might be waterworks.” He said this in apology, not in ridicule. “Look at you!” she gasped, turning her head this way and that in wonder. Indignantly, she scowled at Jake. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us she was pregnant, Jake!” At a loss for words, Jake lifted his shoulders. “It was her news to tell.”

“You’re going to be an uncle, stunod! I’d say that’s cause to raise a glass with your friends!” Listlessly, Jake raised his beer bottle in the air. “To Uncle-hood.” “Stronzo!” Em clucked her tongue and rolled her eyes. “That’s not very nice, Em.” “Vaffanculo, Jake.” Returning her attention back to me, Em glanced at Haris. “Who’s this, Mattie?” “Haris,” I said politely. “This is Em. Em, this is Haris.” “Nice to meet you, Haris. Not to be rude, but I’m going to steal your girl for a bit so Coop and I can grill her. We obviously have a lot to catch up on.” Without waiting for a reply, she grasped my arm and towed me along behind her. Glancing back at Haris, I worried about what the guys would tell him. “I—” “Stai zitto,” Em bade. “I don’t want Coop to miss one juicy detail.” Just as we reached their chairs, Paisley joined us. Her hair was damp and smelled of conditioner. “You must be Mattie,” she presumed. “Jake told me a lot about you.”

“Did he?” Em drawled. “Did you know she was preggers?” “He might’ve mentioned it.” “You officially suck!” Indignantly, Em plopped down on her chair and lifted her glass of wine. “I can’t believe you withheld something like that.” “We hadn’t met yet,” Paisley defended. “It wasn’t my news to share.” “You’re engaged to her brother,” Em disagreed. “I think it does.” My gaze drew to her hand, or more importantly, my grandmother’s diamond ring. Noting, Paisley lifted her hand and fidgeted with the piece of jewelry. Her mouth bobbed, trying and failing at an explanation. “It’s fine,” I assured. “Gram already told me about it.” “I feel horrible.” “Don’t. I got the house.” “Are you sure? I already told Jake he could have it back.” “No, it’s ok. Really.” Stepping toward her, I held out my hand. “May I?” Nodding, Paisley placed her hand in mine. Grasping her fingers lightly, I turned her hand, watching the stones

sparkle in the sunlight. “It fits perfectly,” I approved. “It was obviously fate that you were meant to have it.” Still, my eyes teared over the finality of my lost dream. Before I turned into a mess of tears, I embraced her lightly. “Congratulations, Paisley, even though it’s my brother you’re marrying. He’s such a dweeb.” As I let her go again, my eyes caught the group of men standing on the other side of the pool, all staring in our direction. “My God, did they think they were going to see a cat fight?” “Pretty much,” Coop answered. “They can still fanaticize.” “Carter was trying to get a game of Chicken Fight together earlier,” Em added. “I really think he was just hoping we would lose our tops.” “He’s such a jerk,” Paisley voiced. “He threw me in the pool.” “He’s been unbearable,” Coop agreed. “He used to be sarcastic, but funny. Now he’s just mean.” “Ever since Missoula,” Em added. “Shane said he’s changed, but I can’t imagine him ever being nice. Acting like a coglione comes so natural to him.”

“Did he really take those two girls back to his room?” Paisley asked. I felt my teeth grind together. I drew a deep breath through my nose. “In Nampa?” Coop asked. “I don’t think they were even legal. Not an ounce of intelligence between them.” “He even pushed me and Coop, physically pushed us, when she kicked them out of the dressing room. Jake and Shane both saw him do it.” Tipping her glass back, Em emptied it in a one last draw. “I was really rooting for you, Mattie, but I’m thinking that it not working out was a blessing in disguise. You deserve better than Carter.” “Wait,” said Paisley. “You had a thing for Carter?” “Not anymore.” If it wasn’t true five minutes ago, it was true now. I think I hated him, truly hated him. With a passion so sharp, it cut likes knives. “I’m sorry—if you’ll excuse me for a minute, I need to use the bathroom.” Because like every other emotion, I cried when I got angry. “Mattie?” said Coop, concernedly. “I’m fine. I know where it is. Practically grew up here, remember?” My way around Tate’s house wasn’t her concern. I knew that. Measuredly, I walked to the house and stepped inside, not to alert anyone to my degrading

mental state. Once inside, I stole a deep breath and then continued to the bathroom. I thought I'd shed enough tears to last a lifetime. Yet, they continued to fall. By the time I had the bathroom door locked, my face was soaked, and my breaths were coming in erratic gasps. God, I was stupid! So entirely stupid! I should've listened to Jake. I could've kicked myself for not seeing it sooner. He slept with not one, but two girls. And that was only Nampa. How many other girls had he fucked in Eugene, George, or right here in Seattle as they finished the final leg of their tour? He’d made his opinion clear back at the Missoula airport, but I'd hoped he’d at least dwelled over me a little bit. I'd hoped I meant more than just a quick fuck. I wasn't some ordinary blonde. I was Mattie Whalen. No, I was stupid. “Mattie?” Em’s voice slipped softly through the door. “Mattie, are you ok?” “I’m fine,” I choked, and then hiccupped. Grabbing the end of the toilet paper, I unwound a few feet and attempted to blot my face. “That was convincing, kid. Open the door.” Rising from the toilet, I flipped the lock. Em eased the door open, stepped inside, closed the door

behind her. One look at me, and she took me in her embrace. “Merda, I’m such an asshole.” “No, you’re not.” “I’m going to blame my idiocy on the sun and alcohol.” “If anyone’s an idiot, it’s me.” “Well,” Em said wryly. “You are in love with Carter.” Em laughed. I laughed with her. Though, it was short lived. “Did he really sleep with those girls?” Letting me go, Em took a step back and leaned against the door. She was lean and tanned. Her toes were lacquered bright red. I hated her a little bit. I couldn’t even see my toes. “It certainly looked that way.” “God, I’m so stupid,” I said, mopping my nose. “So fucking stupid!” I paced in the small space. One hand rested on my belly. The other was clenched tightly into a fist. “How could I have thought I was going to change him? Like I have some kind of magic vagina, comparable to no other. I’m one of those girls! Fucking delusional!” “Dio mio.” Em covered her mouth, finally grasping the full extent of my stupidity. “Shut up!” I warned her. “This doesn’t

leave this room.” “Jake doesn’t know?” “Of course not. He thinks Haris is the father.” Em lowered her voice to a whisper. “Does Carter know?” “No!” My eyes bugged out, as the thought of telling him set fully in. “When were you planning on telling him?” “Obviously, I haven’t thought that out very well.” “I hate to say it, Mattie, but I don’t think today—here—now—is the best time or place if you don't want Jake to know. There’s no way Carter isn’t going to make a scene.” Releasing a moan of lament, I pushed a hand through my hair. “Fuck. What was I thinking?” “I’ll get Haris.” “What’re you going to tell him?” “That the heat got to you.” “It’s seventy-five degrees.” “Your hemorrhoids are flaring up. It’ll keep the others from asking questions. No one wants to discuss hemorrhoids.”

“Ew.” For the record, I didn't have hemorrhoids. “Exactly.” Opening the door, Em slipped outside. “I’ll be right back.” Two girls, and barely legal. I couldn't get it out of my head. It was permanently etched into my memory. I'd never look at him again and not see him in a threesome with a couple of high-schoolers. And here I was, striving for his attention. Just as my hate for Carter reached a neverbefore high, Haris knocked on the door. With relief, I tugged it open. For a brief moment, maybe a lifetime, Carter stared, taking everything in. Me. The baby bump. Me. The baby bump. My will crumbled. This was what I wanted, just to see him again. To get some small reaction from him. To know he cared, even if it was only to claim paternity. When I finally snapped to, I gathered my wits, then fortified them with the image of two blonde teenyboppers and a healthy dose of anger. Stepping aside, I intended to go around him. I heard Haris and Em down the hall. “Excuse me.” Of another mind, Carter blocked my path. “It's mine, isn't it?”

My mouth went dry. “No.” “Fucking liar.” Stepping forward, he forced me deeper into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. “Carter,” I warned. “Why wouldn't you take my calls?” “You made your feelings clear.” “I panicked, Angel. That's all.” Angel. Only Carter called me Angel. It was a joke. Growing up, I was anything but angelic. “It's fine, Carter. That was months ago. I’ve moved on.” “You look like it.” “Wow,” I said sardonically. “That's so narcissistic to think I'm crying over you.” “Really? Why then?” “None of your fucking business.” It was a sound enough excuse in my book. Behind Carter, Haris knocked on the door. “Matilda?” “Fuck off, Biff,” said Carter, at the same time I said, “I’ll be right out.” Impatiently, I rested my hands on my hips. “Come on, Carter, just let me out.” “I’m not letting you leave this room until

you tell me the truth.” His finger jabbed toward my belly. “That’s my fucking kid, isn’t it?” “Does it make a difference?” “What kind of goddamn question is that?” “I’m with someone, Carter. He loves me. He doesn’t care if the baby is or isn’t his. He wants to help me raise him. What can you offer? Child support? Hopes that you don’t bring your groupies around the weekends you have custody? No—I won’t even have that because you’ll just be a washed-up musician without a job because you broke up the band.” Carter winced as if I’d slapped him. I used his moment of shock to shove past and slip out the door. Haris took one look at my face, and then over my shoulder at Carter. “Are you all right?” “I’d like to go home. Now.” I’d thought we’d made it. We were nearly to the gate when I heard Em’s panicked call for Shane’s help. When I turned to look, she was hanging onto Carter’s arm, her feet planted into the ground. Carter was dragging her along, her bare feet slipping over the grass. “Fuck you! Get the fuck off me!” he shouted irately. “That’s my fucking kid! Who’re you to tell me what kind of father I’d be? You didn’t give me a chance! You wouldn’t even pick

up the fucking phone!” Haris pushed me behind him. Shane’s attention wavered between Em and Carter, and Haris and me, trying to make sense of what was happening. He either grasped hold or decided it didn’t matter and took Em’s side, because he ran to her aid. Unfortunately, he was a little too late. Jake, Tate, and everyone else stood staring, piecing everything together. “I called! I fucking called damn it!” With one jerk of his arm, Em’s feet lifted off the ground. She went flying forward and tumbled over a lawn chair. Carter surged forward. “Oh my God!” I gasped, stepping back. “Get back, Matilda,” Haris warned. “Stay out of the way.” His fists went up in a fighter’s stance. This so wasn’t happening. Except it was. “Get the fuck outta my way,” Carter growled. “Mind your own business!” Ducking to the right, he tried to go around Haris, but Haris mirrored him, blocking his path. “She didn’t take your calls. I’d say she made her choice.”

“Look, man,” Carter warned. “I’m not fucking around here. You’re starting to piss me off.” As he stepped to the left, Haris knocked him back a step with a right cross. Carter’s head snapped back. He stumbled backwards but caught himself. Shaking his head, he wiped a smear of blood from the corner of his mouth. “You shouldn’t have done that.” Dropping his shoulder, Carter barreled into Haris, wrapping his arms around his torso. I think he meant to take him down. Only, Haris reached down and circled Carter's neck, placing him in a headlock. With his right fist, he was able to place a few kidney punches. Carter folded at the knees, wheezing. “Stay down,” Haris warned. “You're not going to win this.” Carter, being Carter, climbed to his feet, swaying unsteadily and clutching his side. “The fuck I ain't.” Haris dodged the next swing and then drove Carter back again with a left jab and a right cross. Undeterred, Carter dragged an arm across his face and squared up for another round. “Stop it!” I demanded. “Jesus, just stop it!” Carter could take care of himself. With a mouth like his, you had to know how to fight. But Haris

was on a different level. Carter was going to get himself hurt. Desperately, I looked to Jake and Tate, who were just standing there watching. Hell, everyone was watching. “Will one of you please stop them!” Tate shook his head, his expression a cross of shock and disbelief. His mouth bobbed, at a loss for words. “Jake?” I pleaded. “Is he telling the truth, Mattie?” he demanded. “Is that his fucking kid? Did you sleep with him?” “That’s none of your business!” For all it was worth, I might as well have said yes. Jake blew a gasket, his face going red from his neck to his ears. The next thing I knew, he pushed Haris aside and began beating on Carter himself. “Oh my God! Jake! Stop it! Shit! Jake!” Haris grabbed my arm as I ran toward them. “Let’s go, Matilda. We should go. Now. Before he gets up again.” “He’s right, Mattie,” said Em. “Nothing’s going to get solved until everyone gets a chance to calm down and clear their heads. From the looks of things, it’s not going to be anytime soon.” From over Em’s shoulder, I watched Marshall—the band’s newest and largest bodyguard

—yank Jake off Carter. Carter immediately rolled to the side and began struggling to stand. Marshall barked something at the two huge dogs, who were watching with rapt attention. They immediately jumped into action and latched onto Carter’s prosthetic, jerking him backwards until it broke free from his leg. “Go, Mattie,” Em pressed. “You’d better go. Merda!” Turning, she headed toward the dogs. “Rake! Fiend! No! Damn it, Marshall!” “Matilda.” Grasping my wrist, Haris began towing me toward the car. Reluctantly, I followed. Em was right. There was no reason to stay. I probably shouldn’t have come in the first place. I don’t know what I was thinking. I shouldn't have expected anything less. Quietly, I climbed into the car, feeling sick to my stomach. Haris rounded the car and slid behind the wheel. Without hesitation, he started the ignition and sped down the driveway, leaving the wake of devastation behind us. Only when we pulled onto the street did he speak. “Buckle up, Matilda.”

Chapter 5 The scent of fried food permeated the room. While I’d usually chew off a hand or foot, if necessary, to have a French fry or onion ring, my battered nerves were beginning to wreak havoc on my stomach, and the smell was having the opposite effect. Wrinkling my nose, I licked my lips, wetting them with a sweep of my tongue. My mouth was like cotton; my lips, parched. “She’s been nauseated,” Gram warned. “You should eat that somewhere else. I didn’t say toss it in the trash can! I told you to eat it somewhere else!” “Sorry,” Jake grumbled. “You don’t need to yell.” “I didn’t yell, but I’m going to yell if you don’t empty that trash can! It’s stinking up the whole room and it’s going to make her sick again!” Sick? I hadn’t been sick in months. I hadn’t believed the doctors when they said the morning sickness would wane after the first trimester, but it had. Except for the swelling, I’d never felt better.

“Fine! I’ll take the trash out!” “Come here,” said Gram, resignedly. I pried my eyes open enough to see Jake’s shoulders slump. He crossed the room and stopped in front of Gram, who had her hands resting on her hips. She lifted her hand and cupped Jake’s chin, staring into his eyes. “Go home and get some sleep. You look exhausted.” “What about you?” “I’m a senior citizen, Jake. We’re like cats, and nap throughout the day. But I think I’ll stretch my legs and go downstairs for a cup of tea.” “What about Mattie?” “Carter’s waiting outside to see her.” Jake frowned, as did I. What the actual fuck? “Carter?” I croaked, my voice thick with sleep. “What’s he doing here?” “He’s family now,” Gram told Jake, while ignoring me completely. “He has as much of a right to be here as we do.” “Does not,” I disagreed. “Not if I don’t want to see him.” “Fine, but if he upsets her, I’m going to finish what I started before Marshall stepped in.” Coming to the edge of the divan—where I must’ve fallen asleep last night—Jake leaned over and

pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Give him hell, Matt.” “I don’t want to see him,” I complained. “Tell him to go home.” Lifting my arm, I reached for the collar of his shirt, but came up short, my wrist jerking to an abrupt halt. Looking down, I found it wrapped in a thick strap of Velcro, which was anchored somewhere beneath the divan. “What the hell is this, Jake?” Eyes filled with remorse, Jake brushed a loose piece of hair from my face. “You’re a fighter. Remember that.” “Jake?” A mixture of fear and annoyance laced my tone. “Send Carter in on your way out,” Gram instructed. Jake scowled and shook his head in disgust, but as he walked out of the room, I knew he’d do it. The hell if I was going to be cooperative. There had to be a way to rid myself of my restraints. Again, I jerked my arm, testing the strength of the straps. “Now, you listen to me, Matilda Whalen,” Gram chastened. With Jake gone, she focused her attention on me. “This might be a little drastic, I agree. But if this is the Lord’s way to get you to listen, so be it. That boy cares about you, and I know you’re listening, so you’re going to hear him

out. And maybe when you’re ready to come to your senses again, you’ll actually use them. God knows, He gave you a brain for a reason. Don’t squander it.” Pfft. Turning my head away, I closed my eyes. Might help if I believed. If you asked me, He was a fable, used to teach a moral lesson. I wasn’t sure how Carter accomplished it, but he’d talked my Gram and my brother into subduing me while I slept. That in itself was a major feat. I knew when he walked in the room, because I could smell his cologne. It was faint, but evoked memories and desires that threatened my strength of will. “Gram,” he graveled, his voice thick with shame. “How’re you hanging in there?” Gram inquired. “You look the worse for wear.” Unable to help myself, I stole a peek. Gram was right, his face was riddled with bruises. “Nothing I didn’t deserve.” “Nonsense. What Mattie wants, Mattie gets.” Gram’s voice smirked with irony. “You didn’t stand a chance.” “Wish Jake saw it that way.”

“He’ll come around. Paisley’s already put him in his place.” “Didn’t think I had anyone in my corner.” “I don’t know that she is, but if there’s one thing she’s not, it’s a hypocrite. If Jake wants to set parameters, he has to follow them.” “God,” I exclaimed. “Finally someone with an ounce of sense.” Carter looked up, stared at me as if he could see straight into my soul. The blood rushed to the surface of my cheeks. I turned away, denying him the satisfaction of knowing he caused it. “Either way, it might be too late,” Carter observed. Pushing a hand through his hair, he shifted his weight. His prosthetic creaked slightly under his weight. “She was pretty mad.” I wasn’t mad. I was hurt. The only reason he was here now was because of the baby. “Do you love her, Carter?” “Of course I do. It’s Mattie we’re talking about.” Asshole. Asshole. Asshole. “I’m sitting right here! Stop talking about me as if I’m not in the room!” “I’m not talking about Jake’s little sister, nincompoop,” Gram chided. “I’m talking about the

woman lying there clever enough to seduce you, despite being Jake’s little sister.” A short pause ensued. “No, don’t tell me. Tell her.” Reaching down, Gram retrieved her purse from the floor and threaded the straps over her shoulder. “I’m going to get myself a cup of tea. It’ll give you time to talk.” “What makes you think she’s going to listen to one word I say?” “She’s hung on your every word for more than half her life, boy. She might not show it, but she’s paying attention.” “Traitor,” I grumbled as Gram walked out. She completely sold out her granddaughter to the man that left her barefoot and pregnant. Ambling to the foot of the divan, Carter stared down at me, his brows knit in the center. “So what do ya say, Angel? Let’s you and I have a little chat.” “Fuck off.” Twisting my wrist, I tried to slip my hand through the restraint. It caught at the base of my thumb, refusing to slide over my joint. Reaching over, Carter pulled an old French provincial chair to the edge of the divan. Dropping onto the edge of the seat, he grasped my wrist. I jerked my arm back, only to be thwarted by the restraints. Grasping my hand again, he pushed the cuff farther up my arm.

“You’re going to hurt yourself. Your wrist is getting chafed.” “I’d chew them off if it'd get me out of this bed.” “I know you don’t understand,” he continued. “But they’re for your own good.” Any other time, I would’ve vied for his attention, but under the circumstances, he was lucky my hands were tied. “Carter, you’d better hope I never, ever get free, cause I’m going to knock that inflated head off your shoulders.” “Just hear me out, please.” Dropping his head, his curls brushed against my arm. “Jesus, you’ve got me speechless. I don’t know where to start. There’s a first, huh? Carter Strickland at a loss for words.” “I’m sure your foot will find its way to your mouth.” It always did. “I panicked, Angel. Shane or Tate would’ve reacted the same way. You’re Jake’s little sister.” “Screw Jake.” “We vowed. We vowed,” he stressed. “He said he didn’t care if we drank the last of the bottle or stole his shorts because they were the last clean pair on the bus, but if we laid one finger on you, he was done with the band.”

I bit my tongue. It didn't matter. Jake had been right. Carter tucked his tail and ran just like he said he would. I reminded myself again that he was only here because I was pregnant. Gritting my teeth, I turned my head away. The sight of him made my heart ache. “I guess it's too late to think about that now.” Squeezing my hand, he circled his thumb over the back. I had to tamp down the butterflies that rustled in my stomach. More accurately, I stomped on their mother fucking wings until they were nothing but iridescent dust. Carter Strickland was nothing to me anymore. He was my biggest mistake. He was my penance. I would be forever tied to a man who didn’t love me. Not the kind of love I desired. “Go away, Carter. Please.” “I care about you, Angel. I want to be here for you and the baby. You don’t have to do this alone.” And there it was. The dreaded proposition. He was falling on his sword. Sacrificing his bachelorhood for a life of resentment and infidelity. Once, I had thought that anything was possible, but he had proved me wrong. A set of underage blondes were his instrument of choice. I’d learned my lesson well.

The world was not a magical place filled with true love and happy endings. But I wouldn’t say it was harsh or unforgiving. No, I didn’t truly believe in fate. The cosmos wasn’t working against me with inexplicable forces. It was an excuse for one’s shortcomings. Me, I had only my own naïve aspirations to blame. I had been looking at the world through rose colored glasses. I was going to singlehandedly tame the untamable Carter Strickland. “I know you don’t think I can change,” Carter continued. “But I can. I have. Ever since that day…Jesus…we didn’t use protection. I knew it. I just fucking knew it! When Jake said you were sick…” Shaking off his frustration, Carter shoved a hand through his hair, pushing the curls from his face. “Why didn’t you answer the damn phone? I called! This is my kid too! I had a right to know!” Pride had gotten the best of me, just as anger was now. Changed, my ass. He’d wasted no time moving on. Christ, he brooded over Coop longer than he did for me. So shoot me because I’d moved on too. Why should I have played the jilted lover desperate enough to trap him into marriage? Why should I be the one to argue over child support? No, I didn’t want his money or his contrived loyalty. I’d rather raise the baby on my own than play the fool left behind while he went on

tour and fucked half the country’s female population. “You lied to me, Angel.” Not technically. My roommate lied. While I leaned against the wall listening as she answered the phone, she’d told him a half truth. I was fine; I just didn’t want to talk to him. I hadn’t wanted to talk to him. I was trying to avoid all of this. “I’ve missed so much. Doctor appointments. Heartbeats. Ultrasounds. Developmental milestones. I should’ve been there. I would have been there. How could you keep that from me?” Letting go of my hand, he rested his hand over the peak of my stomach. I felt oddly offended by his touch, or rather his unwarranted sense of entitlement. I wasn’t his. My arm shot up and jerked on the restraints. With a grimace, Carter removed his hand and sat back in his chair. “If you loved me half as much as you claimed, you’d know I’d make a great father. All I’m asking for is the chance.” It was never my intent to keep the baby from him. The whole point of my silence was to keep my brother from discovering the truth, and in turn, save the band from dissolving. Well, that and saving myself a world of heartache. You don’t

secretly love someone for the better part of your life and go unaffected by their presence just because they rejected you. The heart didn’t stop longing because your brain knew what would never be. The signals were lost somewhere in between. Desire and reality had become a synonymous ache in my chest. Kicking his feet up on the end of the divan, Carter locked his hands behind his head, stretching himself out. “Go ahead and chew on that for a while, Angel. I’m not leaving this chair until you wake the fuck up and smell the coffee. Like Gram said, I’m family now.” I wanted to cry. Lord, I wanted to cry. My anger was getting the best of me. But I refused to let him see me shed tears. It would only fuel his drive, and let him know he’d gotten under my skin. Carter thrived on reactions. They only encouraged him. Remaining impassive was prudent if I was to make it out of this with any pride intact. “You truly are more of an idiot than I ever realized.” Frowning, Jake stalked back into the room. Dropping his feet to the floor, Carter sat up in his chair. Preparing for another brawl if I had to guess. “I thought you left.” “Gram might trust you, but I don’t.”

“I’m not here to hurt her, man.” “Not intentionally.” Tugging the heel of my sock, Jake straightened out the seam along my toes. I hated when they were crooked. It was worse than having a wedgie. “Unfortunately, you have a knack for saying the wrong thing every time you open your mouth.” “Is there really a right thing to say in this case?” “Yeah!” Jake snapped. “Yeah, there fucking is! She didn’t lie to hurt you, fucking moron. She lied to protect you!” “I CALLED!” For the record, he called a month later, after hearing Jake say that I was sick. He called because I was pregnant. He was covering his own ass. He’d just admitted as much. “You fucked my little sister, asshole! You got her pregnant! And that’s all you have to say is that you ‘called’?” “That’s exactly it, Jake! Your little sister. Nothing I could’ve said or done would’ve been enough for your approval!” “How about ‘I love her? She’s worth losing everything, including the band?’ Maybe that’s all I wanted! Someone who’d treat her like she

deserved, not some schmuck that’d run out on her at the first sign of trouble!” “What do you think I’m doing here?” “Fucking her life up more than you already have! She doesn’t need a fucking dead beat who’s only around to save face!” “Fuck you! You don’t know shit!” “I know enough, man. If you loved her half as much as she deserves, she wouldn’t be lying in that hospital bed, and the better man wouldn’t be dead.” The world stopped. My head continued to spin. Hospital bed? “Jake?” I choked. “What’re you talking about?” Jake’s voice echoed in my ears. She wouldn’t be lying in that hospital bed, and the better man wouldn’t be dead. I jerked on the restraints again. Everything fell into place, and completely out of touch. My head swam. My body felt heavy. My vision wavered. Instead of fading to black, I was blinded with a flash of bright light. So bright, I had to close my eyes over the intensity. Beeps and alarms began sounding in my ears. I felt heavy and light at the same time, like I was being pulled in two directions. “Mattie!” Jake shouted, the same time Carter called, “Nurse! We need a nurse!”

“Jake?” I said again. My voice sounded sluggish to my own ears. “I can’t see anything! Where are you?” Everything was white. Blinding. “I can’t see!” “Hold on, Mattie!” Jake shouted. “Don’t you do this to me! You hold the fuck on!” Grasping my hand, he held onto it like a lifeline. His words echoed in my ears. The better man. Haris. It had to be. But how? What happened? The last thing I remember was reaching for my seatbelt. So how did we end up in the hospital? Correction, I was in the hospital. The better man, Haris, was dead. I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. Haris was dead. My problems seemed inconsequential suddenly. Death had the power to put things into perspective. My parents were the last people I’d lost. I’d forgotten how badly it hurt. I mean, I still felt the pain of loss this very day. But the degree had lessened, despite the constant awareness of their absence. Experiencing it again, I was reminded of how suffocating it felt. It was encompassing. Overwhelming. Like, somehow, I wouldn’t survive it. Like, somehow, I was responsible. “Sir…Sir…you have to move.”

Hands were at my arms, my neck. Touching my face. My eyes. Although, I felt no pain. I was being dragged down, growing weaker, while having the feeling of being lifted up. Reality came in flashes. I grasped onto words here and there. “Oxygen.” “Scalpel.” “Blood pressure.” “The baby.” The last, I grasped onto like a lifeline. The baby. I wondered if he’d have Carter’s dark hair and curls. His chance of survival was good at thirtytwo weeks. I might not survive, but maybe the baby would. Carter would be a father after all.

Chapter 6 I wasn’t quite conscious, but I could feel a vast emptiness inside me. I didn’t have the strength to discover whether the baby was healthy or… I couldn’t bear the thought, so I let insentience claim me once again. In my mind, it was healthy, with a full head of chocolate curls.

Chapter 7 B

“ reathe, Matilda.” The voice was clear as day, strident and jarring. Lifting the cumbrous weight of my lids, I struggled to focus my vision. A blur of shadow took shape of a face. “I know I’m not much to look at, but you could at least pretend to like me still.” Carter. I managed to roll my eyes. I think. I couldn’t quite be sure. Everything hurt. “You’re doing great, Angel.” Angel. “God, it’s good to see you breathing on your own again.” I wasn’t sure I agreed.

Chapter 8 Turning my head, I grumbled in protest, trying to escape the beam of light shining into my eye. Why no one would leave me alone, I couldn’t fathom. Every hour on the hour they barged into my room, poked and prodded me with all sorts of instruments before telling me to go back to sleep. I mean, what the fuck. How was a person supposed to rest when you couldn’t get a moment’s rest? Heal when you couldn’t get a moment’s rest. Something like that. Somewhere in the near vicinity, someone chuckled under their breath. “So ffffunny?” I slurred. My tongue felt thick and foreign, not unlike being drunk. This only sent everyone into a concert of cheers and full-fledged laughter. Glad to see my speech impediment amused them. Furrowing my brows, I let my eyes drift closed. “Don’t go getting all surly,” Jake pleaded. “It’s the first time we’ve heard you talk in over a week.” “Should be re…” The word skirted just out of reach.

“Relieved?” Jake finished as my frustration mounted. “Not at all. It’s good to hear your voice again.” I tried to open my eyes again, but I could feel myself drifting off already. “Week?” “You bumped your head pretty hard.” Pursing my lips together, I tried to ask the question I really wanted to know. The words, again, escaped me. Frustration won out. Or maybe fatigue. I burst into tears instead. “As I explained, this is to be expected,” said a feminine but clinical voice. “She’ll have moments of lucidity, confusion, agitation, and restlessness. As she improves, her sleep cycles will return, and these symptoms will diminish, but it’s going to take time.” “How long?” “Progress always depends on the individual.” “You don’t know,” Carter clarified. “Fifty thousand dollars a year for medical school to earn a degree in equivocation.” “I’m sorry I can’t give you a more accurate answer. Although we’ve made strides in brain injuries, we’ve barely breached the tip of the iceberg. The main thing is, she’s progressing.

Delivering the baby was a big help in reducing the edema and stabilizing her vitals. She’s doing fantastic.” “I can’t thank you enough,” said Jake. “For everything.” As the doctor’s heels clipped out of the room, someone sat on the edge of the bed. Gram. I could tell by the papery feel of her skin and she grasped my hand. “The baby’s fine, Mattie. Small, but healthy. You had a boy.” Sighing, I let sleep overcome me again.

Chapter 9 When I surfaced again, Carter was fingerpicking his guitar to some song playing on his cell phone. Shane’s drums and Tate’s riff line were emitting in a tinny echo from his earbuds. Pausing, he scribbled something down, the lead of the pencil scratching over paper in short strokes and small circles. Music notes. He was writing. Cracking my eyes open, I let my head fall to the side. He sat in front of the window. The blinds were cracked, and the moon was bleaching him with pale streaks of light. Looking up from his guitar, he placed it on the floor, and rose from his chair. “Mattie?” “Who’s Mattie?” I croaked. I shouldn't have fucked with him, but I couldn't resist. Carter froze halfway to the bed and scrubbed his chin in discontent. “Joking.” “That's not funny.” Slowly, he limped to the bed, his leg obviously stiff. “Little bit f-f—” the word seemed to cling to my front teeth, unable to slip past my lips. Like it

was rooted inside. “How're you feeling?” “Stupid question.” Running my tongue along my lips, I realized how parched I was. “Ttthhhirsty.” Opening the drawer to the nightstand, Carter pulled out a plastic stick with a small sponge on the end. “Let’s start small, ok?” Dipping the sponge into a small plastic cup, he saturated it and then squeezed it out again. “Open.” I felt like a baby bird. If I could've drank through osmosis, the cup would've been empty. Gently, he placed the sponge into my mouth and swabbed the sides. “Any better?” “Oh, please.” I didn't have the strength to roll my eyes. You’d have better luck irrigating the Sahara with an eyedropper. My mouth was that dry. “I can check with the nurse to see if you can have some ice.” “F-forget it.” I wasn't sure if I would still be up when he came back. Besides, I had too many questions to waste the time waiting for ice chips. “What time’s it?” “Four.” “See the baby.” “You can't get out of bed, but I have

pictures.” “Duh.” I could barely get a few words out at a time, let alone sit up straight or walk. My sarcasm was a wasted effort. Tapping the screen of his phone, he glanced at me and smiled. “I know sarcasm is in abundance, but it’s more effective when used sparingly.” “Just catching up…f-f-for lost time.” Carter held the phone out, and then mentally slapped himself. “Sorry.” Reaching down, he began peeling back the Velcro from my wrist. The noise was deafening in the silence. “Jesus, I feel like I’m breaking the law.” “Wouldn’t be the f-f-first time.” Lifting my arm, Carter draped it over my waist, and sprawled on the bed next to me. “He’s tiny, Angel, so don’t panic.” “He’s healthy?” “Perfect.” Holding the phone just between us, he started to scroll through the photographs. Tears immediately filled my eyes. He was perfect. “Yeah,” Carter sighed. “He’s a Whalen through and through, poor kid.” Laughing, I lifted my hand and wiped the tears away. “His hair.” It was pale blond and fine as silk. His eyes were blue-gray, though that could

change. “I’m demanding a paternity test, just so you know.” “Ffffuck you.” “I think that’s why we’re in this trouble.” Shutting his phone off, Carter slid it back into his pocket, then fished my hand from between us. For a brief moment, he studied the feel of my hand in his before intertwining his fingers between mine. “Carter…” Biting back the hope swelling in my chest, I pulled my hand from his. It didn’t mean anything. I was Mattie. Jake’s kid sister. He was just being nice. “I’m sorry, Angel.” “Please. Don’t. Not now.” Not ever. I wasn’t going to be that person. The one that trapped him into a relationship based on guilt and obligation. I’d hate him. I’d hate myself. We fell silent, each lost in our own commiserations. Nonetheless, that white elephant I was studiously ignoring, stood in the center of the room, demanding acknowledgement. True to my nature, I changed the subject by broaching another, equally imposing subject. “Carter, where’s Haris?” I was hoping the conversation between him and Jake had been a

dream, and not a gross integration of reality into my subconscious. “Haris…?” “The guy…you know…that kissed—” “Kissed?” “Kicked. Shut up. I hit my…my head.” “Maybe you should go back to sleep.” Curling his finger under my chin, he looked into my eyes, as if I threw a clot or something. “You need your rest.” “You didn’t answer my question.” Averting his eyes, he fell back onto the mattress beside me. “I’m sorry, Angel. He didn’t make it.” Fuck. I felt like he ripped open another hole in my chest. So, I’d heard right. “How did it happen?” “You don’t remember anything.” “No.” I swallowed thickly. Jesus, my mouth was dry. I had to work to clear my throat. “Nothing. He t-told me t-to buckle up. That’s it.” “You’re sure you want to hear this? It can wait.” Fighting another wave of tears, I shook my head. “I need t-to know.”

Adjusting his leg, Carter shifted his weight. “You were broadsided coming out of Tate’s driveway. The passenger’s side took most of the impact. Your head went through the side window. Splintered the thing. When Haris got out of the car to call for help, the other driver pulled out a gun. Haris tried to talk him down, but the guy just started shooting. It was the most fucked up thing. Haris—I’ll give the guy credit—could fight. He rushed the guy, beat the shit out of that mother fucker. We have it all on video. Tate’s security cameras caught the whole thing.” Dragging a hand down his face, Carter tried to wipe the image from his memory. “He was still hitting him when Evan and Taylor reached him. When they pulled him off the guy, he just collapsed. He’d taken a bullet to the chest. Not sure when. Derek and Matthew did everything they could, but he was gone before the paramedics arrived.” Biting my lip, I closed my eyes, measuring my breaths. “You can cry, you know. It’s ok. I’m not going to get all butt sore.” It wasn’t like I could hold it back. But it wasn’t for the same reason Carter figured. It was guilt. Guilt for not loving Haris like he deserved. He gave his life for me, and for what—a kiss in the hall? A moment in the dark? I owed him so much

more than that. I owed him my life. Turning to his side, Carter nestled my head under his chin. Boy if that wasn’t a mindfuck, having him so close, while so far out of reach. “The police have him, Angel. They’re going to put him away for a long time. Between our lawyers and Haris’s parents, he’ll be lucky if he ever gets out.” “But if it was an accident, why did he pull a gun? I don’t understand. Have you t-talked t-to the police?” “It wasn’t an accident. They’re still reviewing the footage, but they do know it was premeditated. He was parked down the block. As soon as your car came through the gate, he floored it.” “Did they question him?” “We can talk about this later,” Carter pressed. “You’ve had tubes coming in and out of you for over a week. I’m pretty sure you should be resting.” “What did he say?” I insisted. “He won’t talk. Well, he can’t talk because Haris broke his jaw. But he refused the police interview and got himself a lawyer.” Grasping his leg, Carter repositioned it on the bed, trying to get

comfortable. “Jess and Richard are on their way here now. He's been making calls to see what he can find out, but he thought he might have better luck in person.” Jess was Carter's older sister. She'd moved to Pennsylvania after marrying Richard, the band’s attorney. I'd imagine she'd want to see the baby, her nephew. Carter’s news must’ve come as a shock. She was an auntie. Jake Whalen’s little sister was the baby’s mother. “I can’t tell you anything else, cause that’s all I know. Ok?” Exhausted. I struggled to stay awake, but I was ultimately losing the battle. I’d spent the last of my energy grieving over Haris. “Ok.” Carter snorted. “Good. Now get some rest. When you wake up again, we’re gonna talk about you and me and baby makes three.” At the mention, I closed my eyes and let sleep take me.

Chapter 10 A

“ re you sure you're ready for this?” Jake asked, looking down at me with unconcealed doubt. “The sooner she's up and around, the sooner she'll feel better,” Carter argued. “Besides, she wants to see the baby.” “I know she wants to see the baby,” Jake protested. “But she just had brain surgery. She almost died. I don't want her taking it too fast.” “She’ll be in a wheelchair,” Paisley pointed out, trying to mediate. Jake and Carter were still at odds, and I was in no condition to step between them. “And I hate to say it, Jake, but Carter’s right. The sooner she’s up and about, the sooner she’ll recoup. You heard the doctors yourself. She’s progressing with flying colors.” “She really hates it when people talk about her like she’s not sitting right here,” I groused. “Never underestimate the miracle of a bond between a child and its mother,” Paisley pressed. “Seriously. It’s proven. Ok, I don’t know about proven, but it’s widely believed.” Jake shook his head, giving up. His eyes met

mine in disapproval. “Go ahead. Do what you want. You’ve never listened to me yet.” “You’re an asshole,” Carter scoffed. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” “Me?” Jake retorted, his back going stiff. “Jake,” Paisley warned. “This isn’t the time or place.” The two eyed each other, neither willing to back down. Finally, Jake shook his head and walked out. “I’ll be back. Going to see Tate and Coop.” Paisley stole a sigh of relief and approached the bed. “He’ll come around. I think.” “We talking about the same Jake?” I wondered. Jake never strayed far from his convictions. “He’s worried about you, Mattie. He’s helped your gram raise you. It’s hard to be your brother after filling in for your parents for as long as he has.” The point was moot. The damage was done. It wasn’t like I could take it back. Nor could he blame Carter for the accident. “I'm going to go visit Coop before she leaves. See if she needs anything. They're taking the babies home today.” They had twin girls, with

oodles of Tate’s dark hair. “Give them my congratulations.” I wish they could take me home today. Unfortunately, I wasn’t sure I could even walk. Don’t get me wrong, I could feel my legs. I just wasn’t sure my brain was going to send the right signals. “Sure.” Managing a smile, Paisley squeezed my hand. “I'll let the nurse know you're ready on my way out.” My enthusiasm must’ve showed, because Paisley’s smile widened. “You’ll do fine. Jake’s right; you’re a fighter.” “At least if I fall, everyone will get a good show.” “It’s true, Carter is the holiest of all asses,” Paisley said, glancing wryly in his direction, “but I don’t think he’d let you, of all people, fall.” Sleep. Yep, I needed more sleep. Not my brother’s girlfriend slipping obscure hints about Carter’s alleged feelings toward me. I’d finally made a sound decision not to ruin my life or his more than I already had. I didn’t need anyone trying to patch together a relationship that never existed outside my own deluded mind. Pinching my eyes shut, I feigned a yawn. “If we don’t see you in maternity, we’ll come see you before we leave.” “Just give me a sec to f-freshen up. I’ll be

right there.” I was going for sarcasm, but it came out dull as a butter knife. “Good luck, Carter.” I cracked my eyes open as Paisley left the room. I liked her, especially her fiery red hair. And she knew how to handle Jake. That was saying something. On that note, I was glad she wasn’t my nurse. If she could handle Jake, she’d tear me to pieces. “Mattie.” “I know, right? I’m the one with the brain injury, and she can’t get my name s-s-straight.” Staring down at me, Carter lifted a brow. “What? It's my brain injury.” I gestured pointedly to my head. “I’m allowed t-to make f-fun of myself.” “Maybe Jake’s right. You’re taking this too fast.” He had no idea how right he was, and not just about my recovery. “Shut up. You don’t need tto s-s-stay here, you know. You’re just going t-to be in the way.” “I’m not going anywhere.” “Carter.” Placing his hands on the rail of the bed, Carter leaned over, looking me in the eye. I pressed my head further into the pillow. It was all I could do

to back away. “Your gram had a funny way of looking at things. In fact, she really pissed me off. To suggest there was some higher purpose to placing you in this bed, and nearly taking the baby…” Closing his eyes, he shook his head. “But the more I thought about it, I figured it was just her way of coping.” Opening his eyes again, Carter pinned me with a stare so dark, it caused my heart to race and memories to surface. For a brief moment, I was in his arms again, his jaw set as his hips rocked against me. Lord, how I’d wanted to believe he’d felt something, and I wasn’t talking about the heat of my vajayjay wrapped around his cock. But as a slow smile spread across his face, I knew that wasn’t the case. Carter was as shallow as a puddle of piss on concrete. “Now,” Carter drawled, gathering my attention. “I think she might’ve had a point. You got your space, Angel, not that I had a choice. I say turnabout is fair play, don’t you? The way I figure it, you can’t run from me here. There’s no way I’m not taking advantage of that.” “That’s not f-f-fair!” Turning my head, I blinked back tears. I didn’t even have the dignity of arguing on even ground. I was a fucking invalid. That wasn’t fair. “I'm just saying, this hospital is like neutral

ground,” Carter amended, his voice softening. “Let me help you get better. Jake doesn't know what it's like to be in your shoes right now. I do. I know how hard to push you and when to let up. I've been there. And when you're ready to go home, I'll give you your space if that's what you want.” “Go home, Carter.” I wanted his pity like I wanted a headache. Which I already had, incidentally. Neither would go away. Carter sucked a sharp breath in preparation of a glib retort, but fell short when one of my nurses entered the room. As his attention turned to the nurse, his expression warned our conversation wasn’t over. Rounding the bed, the nurse began pushing buttons on one of the many monitors. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but your heart monitor is going berserk.” “Sorry,” I said, though I wasn’t at fault. Carter had that effect on me. “That’s ok. It’s coming off anyhow. Paisley said you were ready to get out of bed.” Gently grasping my hand, she began removing the various wires from the electrodes on my chest. Her nametag read Jacqueline. “I’m going t-to t-try. Don’t know how f-ffar I’ll get.”

“Baby steps, sweetheart. First, you sit up. Then you stand. Then you make it from the bed to the bathroom,” the nurse explained. “Once you reach the shower, there’s a seat inside in case you’re too tired to stand. I’ll be here every step of the way to help you.” Finished with the wires across my upper torso, she turned to face Carter. “Now might be a good time for your friend to stretch his legs and get himself a coffee.” “I’m fine.” Used to the idiocy known as the male gender, she rolled her eyes. “I’m going to remove her cath and discuss postnatal care.” Caving, Carter jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll be right outside.” “No matter how concerned they are when you're sick,” Jacqueline laughed, “they always run for the hills when it comes to postnatal care.” “He’s just a f-friend.” “Close friend.” “Actually, I was being generous.” “Maybe. But he hasn’t left the hospital since you were admitted. Showers here and everything. Every morning, one or another of his friends brings him a change of clothes. Today was

the broody one with the brunette girlfriend. We like her. She brings food.” “Isn’t there some kind of oath that you t-ttake t-to respect a patient’s privacy?” “Technically, it says we have to maintain confidence in all personal matters. Meaning, we can’t repeat anything you tell us.” “Said Kevin Squeaks t-to Whitey Bulger.” If that woman thought she was the first person looking to score dirt on the band, she was sadly mistaken. All my life I had to deal with ‘friends’ asking me about the guys. Being the little sister to a band member had its perks, but it also had its downfalls. “Sweetheart, I’m just trying to make an uncomfortable situation more comfortable by striking up a conversation. We can talk about the weather if that makes you happy.” It didn’t help. I think she yanked the rubber tube out of my hoo-ha as if she were pull-starting my adrenaline. A few minutes later, I was sitting up in bed for the first time in weeks, albeit a little woozily. Beside me, I clutched the sheets, tethering myself to the mattress. “Are you ok?” Jacqueline asked. She stood an arm’s distance away in case I fell.

“I’m not going to f-fall if that’s what you mean.” “That’s exactly what I mean. The doctors can’t always put Humpty back together again.” I was acutely aware of how fragile life was. Haris was dead. My little speech impediment was relatively minor to what he lost. The reminder clawed at me like a ravening beast, feeding off the fresh stream of regret with laps of its razor-sharp tongue. I felt raw and exposed, while heavy. So fucking heavy. Every thought weighed on me, threatening to drag me back under. So many mistakes. Mouthing off to Amanda Keller. Sleeping with Carter. Hiding my pregnancy from him. Haris. Jesus…Haris. Dead. I still couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that he died protecting me. I didn’t want to be cliché or narcissistic, but I couldn’t help feeling guilty. I wasn’t saying I was responsible for his death, but I should’ve loved him more. I felt crooked and deceitful. Like I'd used him. “I know,” Jacqueline assured. “It can be overwhelming.” She had no fucking idea. “We can wait a little bit if you’re not ready.”

“I’m f-fine.” Steeling myself, I inched toward the edge of the bed, and grasped the rail. I was done crying. “Carter!” Cautiously, Carter stepped into the room. “Get your camera out. You’re going t-t-to document this, so when we’re sitting in that courtroom, we’ll know that f-fucker’s going away f-f-for life.” A cocky smile spread across Carter’s face. He slid his phone from his back pocket. “You’re sure about this?” “Yeah.” Jacqueline pushed a walker in front of me, and moved to stand at my side. “Slowly. Hold onto the walker. Test your balance first.” My toes touched the floor. The surface was cool, but not sleek enough to raise any concerns that I’d slip and fall. I hesitated, testing my legs before placing my full weight on them. Curling my fingers around the handles of the walker, I held tightly. My body trembled, weak and powerless after weeks of disuse. “I think I’m exhausted already.” “It’ll take time, but eventually, everything will go back to normal.” “I’ll never t-t-take walking for granted

again. That’s f-for sure.” Lifting my foot, I took one brave but tiny step toward the bathroom. My leg seemed twice as heavy as usual. The second step felt like I was wading through mud. The third, I’d swear I had physical balls and chains tethered to my ankles. “Where’re you going, Angel?” Carter inquired, still filming. “T-t-to the bathroom. Why?” “You’re aiming a few feet shy to the left.” Taking a step toward me, he lowered the camera. Jacqueline held up her hand. “Wait. Let her correct herself.” Blinking, I looked again. There were two doors. They gaped back at me like a dark set of eyes. The room spun. “Whoa.” “What is it?” “There’s t-two of everything.” Closing my eyes, I took a measured breath, and then opened them again. Everything was back to normal. “Do you want to have a seat?” She didn’t sound unconcerned, but almost rehearsed. As if she’d asked the question a thousand times. Her tone was calm. She was inured to the nervousness of her patients, and remained calm under pressure. A patient could come in sprouting blood from their

carotid artery like a water fountain and the woman would barely break a sweat. “No, I’m f-f-fine. It passed.” “It’s not uncommon to have dizziness, but if you have double vision again, let me know, especially if it lasts longer than a few seconds.” “You’ll be the f-first t-to know.” Glancing at the door again, I slid the walker to the right and took another step toward the bathroom. The whole event was surreal, as if walking in a stranger’s shoes. This wasn’t me. I wasn’t this weak or ailing. I was strong. I was a fighter. I was both, I was suddenly realizing. By the time I reached the bathroom, I was discovering new aches and pains with every step I took. My back and neck were as stiff as a board. My aorta seemed to have taken up residence in my skull. I had cramps. My breasts felt like lead weights. And my right side had a stitch. Or more of a fist, with large knuckles pressing into my ribs. Over. And over. And over. Yet, despite all the trials I was facing, nothing had prepared me for what I met in the mirror. The entire right side of my head was shaved. All except for a thick row above my ear. In the center, a circular, puckered scar proved just how extensive my injuries were.

My face was sallow with patches of green along my eye socket. The bridge of my nose had a small scab. My lips were dry and my hair was a hideous mess of knots. No amount of hot water was going to provide the help I needed. I needed a fucking miracle. An act of God. “Your sutures were removed while you were unconscious.” Stepping into the bathroom with me, Jacqueline started up the shower and retrieved two towels from the rack above the toilet. “There’re ointments that can help reduce the scaring. Massage helps too.” “Do you have scissors?” “Scissors?” “I have a t-tonsure on the side of my head.” Looking in the mirror, my nose scrunched up in distaste. “A tonsure?” “This little row of hair—what’s the point of leaving that?” Grabbing the offending row of hair, I tucked it behind my ear. “It’s like a monk’s head. I have a monk’s head, but on the side.” “We don’t have barber shears. Utility scissors and office scissors, maybe. I don’t think you’d want to use them on your hair.” Staring in the mirror, my gaze roamed

downward. I’d lost weight. Drastically. The swelling had subsided. Except the extra baby weight at my waist, I looked sunken. I felt hollow. Empty. My appearance fell to the background. I had much more important things to worry about. “Never mind.” Grasping the sink, I pushed the walker aside. There was a new toothbrush and a travel size toothpaste resting inside an empty plastic cup. I grabbed the toothbrush and pushed the handle through the plastic wrapper. “I’d like to go t-to the nursery and see the baby. My hair can wait.” Jacqueline pushed the walker out of the bathroom, stopping just outside the door. “I’ll be right outside the door. If you need anything, just shout.” Over the hiss of water, I could hear Jacqueline and Carter’s voices. Although, I could barely make out what they were saying. Only a few select words. Hormones. Injuries. Mood swings. Irritability. Their conversation continued as another wave of double vision obscured my view. A string of toothpaste missed the bristles of my brush and landed in the basin. “Damnit!” Behind me, the door cracked open. “Angel?”

“I’m f-fine.” Cupping my palm full of water, I washed the toothpaste down the drain. “Do you mind?” Ignoring my objection, Carter leaned against the door jamb. “Actually, I’m not supposed to leave you alone.” “Where’s the nurse?” “She just left to get you a wheelchair.” “I don’t want you in here. Get out.” “Such manners coming from the mother of my child.” Glancing up, I met his gaze in the mirror. “That was a mistake. You said so yourself.” “What about all that stuff you said to me?” That stuff. I was in love with him. I always had been. Always would. I’d said much more, but I didn’t care to repeat it. Not when he disregarded it so easily. “I moved on.” “So, you’re over me.” “I didn’t say that.” I’d never get over him. I’d always heard that held true for first loves. I suppose I was no different. “Then what’s the problem?” Pushing off the wall, he stepped into the bathroom and boxed me against the sink. I had nowhere to go, except to turn

and face him. Big mistake. Averting my gaze, I let my eyes fall to his chin. His lips were soft and full. His jaw, shadowed with a few days’ growth. Not good. Not good at all. “Carter, I-I-I just lost Haris. And even if that wasn’t the only obstacle between us, I’d still say this isn’t the t-time. I haven’t showered in almost t-two weeks. I’m wearing a pad the size of a t-travel pillow. I think I have a urinary t-tract infection from that t-tube they just yanked out of me.” “Is that all?” “I hate you,” I tossed in. Because I didn’t like being cornered, I dropped my head and bit his chest. It wasn’t a flirting nibble. It was all teeth and clench. Bellowing, Carter jumped back in shock. “What the fuck! You bit me! I can’t believe you just fuckin’ bit me!” “Good! Remember that!” I warned, raising my chin in the air. “I might look like I’ve been run over, backed over, and run over again, but I won’t be bullied into something I don’t want because you feel sorry for me! You want to pity someone, go downstairs t-t-to the children’s ward where they haven’t seen your t-t-true colors! Cause I have, and I’m not impressed anymore!”

Fired up, Carter lifted his hand and pointed a finger at me. His eyes were slivered. His pearly whites bared in frustration. “You have no fuckin’ id —” Behind him, Jacqueline cleared her throat, cutting him short. She wore a frown, obviously displeased with the maltreatment her patient was receiving in her absence. Undeterred, Carter stole back the space I’d just won. In one smooth motion, he cupped his hand around my nape and crushed his lips to mine. Naturally a fighter, I shoved my hands against his chest, but as Carter deepened the kiss, the protest bled out of me. My head tilted back. My fingers curled against his chest. This was what I wanted, what I’d waited for all these years. This… irrefutable…heady desire. I felt breathless, wound up, surreal. Any moment now, I was going to wake up. Except, I didn't want to wake up. This was no average kiss. It had emotion and need. It was desperate, demanding, conveying where words had failed. If I didn’t know better, I'd think he wanted me. But I'd been kissed like this before. I knew better now. I wasn’t about to be a road gig, not even for Carter Strickland. Not again. Breaking the kiss, he stared down at me,

daring me to refute his claims. “Did that feel like I was pitying you?” Yes, I dared. I was stubborn like that. “What? Am I supposed t-t-to believe it means something this t-t-time?” Carter’s mouth popped open in shock. “Why is that so fuckin’ hard to believe?” “Because you pushed me out of the car, Carter!” “I panicked! How many times do I have to say it? I panicked!” My eyes narrowed, my temper flaring. I was on a short fuse. “F-for someone who was in a panic, you certainly didn’t have any t-t-trouble knocking me up!” “That’s not fair! But then none of this was fair. You’ve had all the time in the world to realize you were in love with me. Yet, I get ten minutes to return the sentiment!” “I hate t-to t-t-tell you,” I seethed, “but it only lasted five!” Carter’s mouth twisted into a wry smile. “Go ahead and crack jokes, Angel, but I'm catching up real quick. I’ve had nearly eight damn months to sweat over what happened between us that morning. And you know what—I’m not sweating

anymore.” Reminding us of her presence, Jacqueline cleared her throat again. Carter shifted his weight, staring down at me. I stared back, my jaw set in a firm line. Neither of us moved. “Since you’re at an impasse, perhaps now is a good time to take a step back,” Jacqueline suggested. “A little time apart might do you both good. You can clear your heads.” That, I seriously doubted. Carter wasn’t known for his rationality. He was hotheaded and sharp-tongued. When he had an opinion, he let it be known. “Or I can call security,” Jacqueline pressed. “You’re disturbing my patient’s peace. Have it whichever way you like.” Grimacing, Carter turned on his heel and stepped out of the bathroom. “I thought we were friends, Jacqueline. I’m hurt.” “Unfortunately, my patient comes first.” “Then maybe you can talk some sense into her. Nothing I’ve said is getting through that thick head of hers. I think the doctors screwed up and used lead instead of titanium when he put that plate

in there.” “Sweetheart,” said Jacqueline, turning to me. “You should’ve fallen for a nice country singer. Their mommas teach them manners.” “That’s cold,” Carter complained. “Just cold.” “Cause rock music’s not my thing?” “Cause my mom’s dead.” “I’m sorry to hear that. My apologies. But you still have to leave.” “Not an ounce of remorse,” Carter observed. “You didn’t even hesitate.” “Go,” Jacqueline insisted. “Now.” Pouting, Carter acquiesced and ambled toward the door. “This isn’t over. Neither of you. I’m not leaving. I’ll be right outside the door.” “You should’ve just called security,” I said, stepping out of my hospital gown and into the shower. “It would’ve been much easier than dealing with him.” She waved off my warning like a wayward thought. “Nah, he’s a good guy.” “Humph.” “Come on. You have to admit he has a point.”

“What?” I choked, my mouth popping open. “Men are slow, emotionally. You have to give them a chance to catch up.” “I resent that entirely,” Carter said from the hall. “But I'll let it slide because it's in my favor. You should listen to her, Angel. She has a point.” Jacqueline rolled her eyes and depressed the call button. “Can I get security up here, please. I have a code ID-10-T, that's code ID-10-T. Stat.” “That's so not cool,” Carter griped as he stalked off. “What's an ID-10-T?” I inquired. “Idiot.”

Chapter 11 Stepping out of the shower, I found a fresh hospital gown resting on the sink, along with a robe, slippers, and a new pair of underwear. I wasn’t feeling particularly vain, but the disposable fishnet underwear provided by the hospital were severely lacking in comfort. The hospital gown provided little more privacy. So these small luxuries were welcome. Grabbing the underwear, I took no chances of falling and sat on the toilet while sliding them over my feet. A short walk to the bathroom and I felt like I’d run the Boston marathon. I was left weak and shaky. Recovery was going to take a little more than a shower and a couple aspirin. I needed sustenance and rest. Plenty of rest. But first, I needed to visit the nursery. Quickly, I finished dressing. Carter updated me with new photos of the baby every day, but I wanted to see him for myself. Until I held him in my arms, I wouldn't feel at ease. Who was I kidding? Even then, I wouldn't feel at ease. Mothers never did. It was in our genetic makeup to worry. And he’d come into the world eight weeks

earlier than planned. Turning the lever, I pushed the door open. Carter was leaning against the wall, talking to someone farther in the room. I’d expected to find Jacqueline waiting with the wheelchair. Instead, I was waylaid by Jess, Carter’s older sister, who was there with her husband and daughter. “Oh, Mattie!” Jess gasped. Striding toward me, she encompassed me in an embrace. “You poor thing! Look at you!” I felt like an idiot. The whole situation was awkward. I’d always liked Jess, but everything was different now. I wasn’t sure what Carter had told her and Richard, or how I was supposed to act. I wasn’t the girl who’d caught Carter’s eye. I was the one who threw herself at him and got herself knocked up. There was no romantic love story. It was pure scandal, and I was at the head of it all. Reading my hesitation, Jess backed me to arm’s length. “How’re you feeling, sweetie?” “F-fantastic.” Annnnddd the stutter was back. Wonderful. Just fucking wonderful. Jess’s expression shifted in understanding. She rolled her eyes over her faux pas. “Lord, that was a dumb question, wasn't it?” “I've f-felt better,” I admitted.

“But she’s improving,” Carter interjected. Moving closer, he lifted his arms and tugged a knit cap over my head, covering the atrocity that used to be what people called hair. I had to tamp down the beast that craved his attention. He loved me. He wasn’t in love with me. I supposed that was karma at its best. You get what you give. I’d loved Haris. I just wasn’t in love with him. “I’d say you were lucky,” Richard voiced. “I’ve seen the video. It was a pretty nasty collision.” “Lucky would’ve been c-c-catching that guy before he was able t-t-to hurt anyone,” I disagreed. “I almost died. The baby could’ve died.” Haris died. A lump swelled in my throat. “But you’re both alive, despite everything.” “I c-c-call that skill. I had good doctors.” “Speaking of skill,” Jess stepped in. “Richard’s going to put his to use while I show Gabi some of the sights. Maybe do a little shopping. Is there anything you need, sweetie? Anything I can pick up for you while we’re out?” “No thank you. I think I’m good. Oh, um,

thanks f-for the robe and other things.” “Actually, you can thank me for the robe, and the other things.” Carter’s lips twitched upward. He’d bought the underwear too. They weren’t sexy little numbers. They were nude, compression panties to help with healing after childbirth. They sucked everything in, straight up to my breasts. Embarrassingly enough, they were exactly what I needed. “Thank you,” I said with as much antagonism as appreciation. Irking me, he gave me a trademark Carter Strickland wink. “When everyone leaves, you can thank me properly.” “Richard, while you’re here, how do I go about f-filing f-for a restraining order?” I inquired, my hand resting on my hip. “She’s kidding,” Carter winked. “She’s in love with me. She just hasn’t forgiven me yet.” “How about a gag order? C-c-can I get one of those?” “Sweetie, ain’t no piece of paper going to shut him up,” Jess advised. “You’d need a physical gag. I’ll pick one up for you while I’m out.” “A hammer might work better,” I suggested. “I’m going to handle the legalities of the

collision,” Richard said. Taking his wife by the arm, he began ushering her out of the room. “I’ll leave this disagreement for the two of you to settle between yourselves.” “The baby is beautiful, Mattie!” Jess called out. “I can’t wait to hold him!” Following her parents from the room, Gabi paused to kiss Carter’s cheek. “Congratulations, Uncle Carter.” “Thanks, Gab.” Stretching up on her toes, she leaned closer to his ear. “I like her.” “So do I,” Carter replied, his gaze locked with mine. When I rolled my eyes and looked away, he added, “Unfortunately, I don’t think she likes me.” “You should grovel.” “I wouldn’t know where to start. I’ve never groveled before.” “Then she’s perfect for you.” “Go.” Turning her away from him, he pushed her toward the hall, and swatted her on the rump. “Before you all but have me handing her my balls on a silver platter.” “Carter!” Jess scolded. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“Then you’re failing miserably.” Laughing, Gabi trotted after her parents. “Gosh, Mom, you’re so uptight. I hear much worse at school, you know.” “That’s why you’re here with us and not at home throwing keg parties with your friends…” Jess’s voice faded down the hall as she and Gabi squabbled over making mature adult decisions. “Sit,” Carter commanded, steering the wheelchair in my direction. “You're swaying on your feet.” “I'm t-tired.” “You're recovering.” “I wanted t-to walk a little bit.” “Doctor’s orders. Besides, maternity is across the hospital. You’ll be exhausted by the time you get there.” Caving, I climbed into the chair. Carter circled around and crouched down in front of me. I watched apprehensively as he leaned forward, holding my breath until he flipped the footrest. “Relax, Angel, I don’t bite.” He emphasized ‘I’, staring up at me with a teasing glint in his eyes. Grasping my ankle, he guided my foot forward and onto the tread. His fingers were warm against my skin. His touch, far from innocent. Before he rose

back to his feet, he nipped my knee with a gentle scrape of his teeth. “Carter!” “Tooth for a tooth, Angel.” “You’re a jerk.” “Bark all you want,” he dismissed. “You’re like a little dog, and little dogs bark when they feel threatened.” “Shut up.” “You know how you fix that problem?” “Obviously not,” I retorted. “You’re still ttalking.” “Conditioning, Angel,” Carter explained, ignoring me. “Slowly, you introduce yourself by using a calm and friendly voice. Once you’ve gained a measured amount of trust, then you add touching slowly into the mix.” “Well, you’ve got a long way t-t-to go.” “I have time.” With a light push, Carter guided me through the door and into the hall. The nurses glanced up as we passed the station, their eyes focused a few feet above and beyond their patient. Me. I wondered if I faked a seizure if they’d even notice, besotted as they were with my escort.

“Why’re you so b-b-bent on complicating my life?” “I’m not trying to complicate it.” “There’re thousands of women ready t-t-to throw themselves at your feet. Why—” “They don’t know me.” “I don’t either.” Resting my elbow on the arm of the chair, I propped my head on my hand and rubbed my temples. I thought I’d known him. Now, I wasn’t so sure. “Hey.” Slowing to a stop, Carter grasped my wrist, gathering my attention. When I lifted my head, he was staring down, his brows furrowed in concern. “You all right?” “Yeah.” No. I didn’t want to discuss this anymore. Us. There wasn’t an us. I wasn’t about to take advantage of his guilt or sense of obligation and ruin his life. I’d already taken advantage of one man. He was dead because of it. “Does your head hurt?” “A little.” “I’m sorry.” Letting go of my wrist, he wrapped his fingers around the handle of the wheelchair and began pushing again. He didn’t speak again as we continued down the hall, not even when we found ourselves alone in the

elevator. Shuffling to the side, he leaned his weight against the wall and fussed at his prosthetic. “Is it bothering you?” “It’s a spare. I broke my good one when I was fighting with your boyfriend. It’s being repaired.” “This one doesn’t fit right?” “No. There’s a small gap at the bottom. My stump is getting irritated from the friction. I think I’m getting a blister.” “Maybe you should stay off it.” “Easier said than done. The nurses are friendly, but I’m not a patient here. Nobody’s going to wheel me around.” That said, the elevator pinged. Carter moved behind me and guided me carefully through the door. Once again, we fell into silence. We’d turned down a third corridor when I saw the sign for the NICU and breathed a sigh of relief. Almost instantaneously, anxiety welled up in me, a mixed flurry of emotions that brought tears to my eyes. Pausing beside the nurses’ station, Carter leaned over the counter. “We’re here to see Baby Whalen.” “I’ll need to see your bracelet,” the nurse

instructed. She smiled at Carter with familiarity. “Sorry, it’s routine.” “I, of all people, appreciate the precautions,” Carter dismissed. Resting his arm on the counter, he offered his wrist. “There’re some real whackos out there. He’s not something I want some crazed fan running off with as a souvenir.” Oh. My. God. He was flirting. Totally flirting with the nurse. Raising his voice in a range of falsettos, he mocked ninety-nine point nine percent of his fan base. “I got Carter Strickland’s guitar pick! I got a hunk of his hair! Oh my God—I’ve got his skin under my fingernails—I’m never washing my hands again!” “I had his baby,” I offered. “But I definitely need to wash my hands. And I could use a blood screening too. Maybe a douche.” Glancing up at Carter, I scowled. “Oh, never mind, I have one already.” “A douche?” Carter mouthed. “A douche?” “You must be Mattie,” the nurse surmised. Her nametag read Monica. “Paisley and Carter told me what happened. That’s awful.” “You know Paisley?” “She used to work here in NICU with us.”

Extending her arm, her hand fell open. “Sorry. I’ll need to see your bracelet too.” Lifting my arm, I placed my wrist in her hand. Her lips moved as she read the numbers silently from my bracelet and entered them into her log. When she was done, she let go of my wrist and smiled. “Nervous?” I snorted. The answer was obvious. “Yeah.” “You don’t need to be. He’s doing fantastic.” Stepping around the desk, she headed toward the rooms along the hall. “Come on. I’ll put you in a room so you can have some privacy while I go over his progress with you.” The room was equipped with not only a bed, but a recliner, and a small sofa too. The walls were apple green and warm, with a large bay window taking up one wall. Not bad for a NICU ward. Looked more like a hotel room. “Have a seat. Whatever you find most comfortable,” Monica instructed. “I’ll be right back with the baby.” “The recliner is easy to get in and out of,” Carter suggested. “That’s what I use when I come.” “Really? I thought b-b-beds were your thing.” It was petty and immature. Carter brought out the worst in me.

A smirk spread across his lips. I tried to ignore him as I climbed out of my chair and into the recliner. “Are you jealous, Angel?” “No.” “You thought I was flirting with her.” “You were.” “I was joking around. Some people still think I’m funny.” “Unfortunately, some people are blinded by your f-fame and f-fortune.” “Except you. You know the real me.” “I thought I did.” “You keep saying that, but I haven’t changed.” No, he hadn’t. A leopard doesn’t change his spots. Carter Strickland wasn’t going to stay monogamous for me. He’d already proven that. “Maybe not, but my perception of you has.” “You know if you expended a fraction of the energy liking me as you did hating me, you’d be much happier.” I didn’t like him. I loved him. And I didn’t hate him. I was angry and hurt. There was a vast difference. Saving me from another grueling debate, Monica returned with the baby. Everything,

including Carter, fell to the background. “I told you he was doing fantastic. They took off his CPAP and switched to the cannula this morning. He’s been active, and started rooting. Were you planning to breast feed?” “I was hoping t-to.” “Are you off your meds?” “Since Wednesday,” Carter answered for me. “She finished the last of her antibiotics. She hasn’t had any pain relievers since Tuesday.” I frowned. Like I couldn’t answer for myself. “Did you want to try feeding him? I’ll remove his gavage tube.” Opening the lid to the incubator, she began disconnecting the remaining monitors. “We remove them when we can. Usually after each feeding. But he really hates having it placed, so we just cap it.” When I didn’t answer promptly, Monica glanced over her shoulder. I nodded absently, both anxious and afraid. He was so tiny, and there were so many wires. I’d carried him for eight months, but I still couldn’t believe he was mine. Four years of college education to earn my teaching degree, plus additional classes in child psychology, and I suddenly felt inept to raise another human being. “You look nervous.”

“He’s t-tiny.” “Don’t worry; he’s doing great. He gained about a pound and a half over the past couple weeks. He’s a strong little guy. But like I said, he’s been rooting. He wants something more.” As she removed what I assumed to be his feeding tube, his arms and legs jerked in complaint. “I know you hate that,” she said understandingly. “But the annoyance will be worth it, little guy. Trust me.” A moment later, she lifted him from the incubator and cradled him in her hands with the expert care of a well-learned nurse. “Just open your robe so you’re skin to skin. Your body heat will be comforting to him. If he’s hungry, you’ll know soon enough.” “Is he on a schedule?” “Every three to four hours, but with breast feeding, he might be hungry every two or so. Your body will naturally adjust to the early delivery by producing a higher fat content, but the doctor might supplement your feedings to keep his weight up until he grows stronger.” Deftly, she placed the baby on my chest. His legs and arms folded neatly beneath him. His tiny mouth worked against the butt of his fist, suckling. “Should I t-try f-feeding him?” “I would wait until he wakes a little more.

He might not cry, but his eyes will open, and he’ll start to fuss. You’ll know.” Satisfied with his level of comfort, she smiled down at him. “Now, I’m going to run a few things by you, and then I’ll leave the three of you alone. Because of his age, his suck, swallow, breathe reflexes are still developing, so have patience and don’t be discouraged. He’ll learn…” I paid as much attention to her instructions as humanly possible, but between the baby in my arms, the mental and physical fatigue I was feeling, and the surfeit of knowledge she was imparting, her words began to blend together. I was sure I missed some vital piece of advice while gazing over his perfection. “Do you have any questions?” Monica asked politely. “A million,” I confessed. “I just can’t think of one right now.” “If you need anything at all, just press the call button,” she said, and then she was gone, leaving Carter, the baby, and me all alone. “What’re you thinking right now?” Carter asked, breaking the silence. Lifting an armchair from the corner, he sat it beside the recliner and propped his elbows on his knees. “That I screwed up royally. That I’m not

ready f-for this. That I’m going t-t-to make a mistake. He’s so t-tiny. I know I’m going t-to do something wrong.” “You’re doing better than I did, Angel. It took me two days to hold him. Actually, if we’re being honest, I didn’t have a choice. Violet stopped in. I was half asleep in the recliner. Next thing I knew, she was laying him on my chest. I was scared as hell that I was going to break him.” A smile fluttered over my lips as I pulled the cap gently from the baby’s head. His hair was fine, and pale blond. His ears were perfect and pink. I ran my finger across both, committing them to memory. “Have you changed his diaper yet?” “Of course. Well, no, not technically,” he backtracked, “I took it off, inspected the goods to make sure everything was cool, and then buttoned everything back up.” “Was everything cool?” “Tate said it all looked normal.” “That’s his professional opinion?” “Violet concurred.” “So is he…you know…?” “The hooded soldier will be disrobed before leaving the hospital.” “Ouch.” He was so tiny, and had been

through so much, I hated the thought of putting him through any pain. “Not sure I like the idea myself, but Violet assures me he’ll get over it faster than I will.” Resting his hand on the baby’s bottom, he patted him gently with his fingers. “Now that we have all the vitals out of the way, we have one last, but no less important, question to answer.” “What’s that?” “What are we going to name him?” We. As if he had a say in it. Legally. Peer pressure was another thing entirely. “I’m going to name him after my father. Iain.” “What do you think of that, Iain?” he asked the now-titled, Iain. Well that was easy. Carter was unexpectedly agreeable. “I’m going to give him the middle name after Haris.” Still, no argument. No agreement, but no argument. “You’re not going to say anything?” “Neither of you would be here if it wasn’t for the guy. The least I can do is honor him for what he did.” “Strickland. Iain Haris Strickland.” “So, you don’t hate me entirely.” “I don’t hate you at all.” Raising an

eyebrow, Carter challenged my claim. “Ok, maybe a little, but I never meant t-t-to keep him from you. It’s just…” “I hurt you.” “I’m sorry.” “Not half as sorry as I am.” Dropping his head, he gave a pitiful sigh. “We can raise him together, Angel.” “We will. Just not as a couple.” “Why won’t you give me a chance?” “We live t-two different lifestyles, Carter. It'll never work.” “If Tate and Coop can do it, we can too.” “They’re different.” “How fuckin’ so?” “Because he’s in love with her!” I exclaimed, growing frustrated. I was tired. It was the first time I'd gotten to hold my baby, and I had no interest in discussing our relationship status. I just wanted to soak in the moment, take in Iain’s every detail down to his toes. “You think I don’t care about you?” “I think you’re trying desperately hard t-t-to do the ‘right’ thing.” Piqued, Carter’s expression tightened. “For

the last eight months all I thought of was you, Matilda! Day and mother fucking night! And I can promise you, my thoughts weren’t chaste or benevolent! The only thing they had to do with babies, was making them!” “Wow, now I feel truly cherished!” Frustrated, Carter rose from the chair. The feet skid across the floor, the sound jarring. “Yeah? Well, I wasn’t out on my grandma’s porch making out with some guy at three in the morning!” “You!” I choked, my face flushing with color. “You were watching us?” It wasn’t a question so much as an exclamation of disgust and mortification. “For someone who loved me as long as they could remember, you didn't wait long to move on!” I gasped, outraged. “I waited a lot longer than you! And I wasn’t having a ménage à trois with a couple of teenagers; I was in a relationship!” Carter’s expression wavered, first in confusion, and then in guilt. “Who told you that?” “Does it matter? It’s t-t-true, isn’t it?” “No!” For the umpteenth time, I shed tears over Carter Strickland. My hormones were wreaking havoc on my mental state. I wish I could just wring

them out like a damp cloth, both my tears and the hormones causing them. Turning my head, I hid my face from Carter. “I didn’t sleep with them, Angel. I swear.” Ambling closer to the edge of the recliner, he reached down and turned my chin toward him. “You don’t believe me.” I shook my head. No. “Then you’re right. You don’t know me.” Pushing a hand through his hair, Carter turned his back toward me. Then, he walked out of the room. And probably my life. Despite constantly pushing him away, I couldn’t help lamenting over the thought.

Chapter 12 I

“ brought you pasta e fagioli,” Em said, as she pulled a black plastic container from a brown paper bag. “Fettuccini Alfredo, and tiramisu. I hope you’re hungry.” “You brought enough t-to f-feed an army.” “I wasn't sure if Carter would be here. He eats like a horse.” “He hasn't been here in a f-few days.” I looked at my hands, twisting my fingers together in my lap. Em placed the spread of food onto the tray table and maneuvered it over the bed, her eyes tinged with empathy. “Mangia, kid. You’re still feeding for two.” Picking up a cup of soup, I raised a spoonful carefully to my mouth, thankful for the distraction. “Oh dear God, I think you just sent my t-taste buds into shock!” Dropping my head back, my eyes rolled to the back of my head. “Hospital f-food sucks. Everything here is low sodium.” “Can you imagine?” Em quipped. “Hospitals serving healthy food?”

“They should serve everything deep f-fried. It’s job security.” “I think the doctors have enough work to do without worrying about clogged arteries and high blood pressure. Look at us. The band alone could keep them in business. They’re going to have to name a wing after them.” “How is Cooper doing?” “Good. Glad the babies are going home. Tate is ecstatic. The doting daddy. He’s so cute. He was singing to them this morning. The twins were completely absorbed. Their little legs were kicking, and they were cooing away at him. He swears they're going to be vocalists.” I swallowed thickly, guilt clogging my throat. “Carter’s been t-to see the baby. The nurse there, Monica, t-told me.” “He’s sulking, but he’ll come around.” Idly, I stirred my soup, watching the wisps of steam rise and disappear. “This isn’t the way I’d planned f-for everything to turn out.” “Carter neither.” My gaze shot up, met Em’s eyes. “You’ve seen him?” “Not since you have,” Em replied, a hint of irony in her tone. “But neither of you have been a

basket of sunshine lately.” “Why do you say that? What did he do?” “We were all leaving the hospital. Tate and Coop were taking the babies home. He flipped us the bird as we passed him in the hall.” “That’s Carter on an average day.” “True, but we haven’t seen him since. That isn’t like Carter. He’s usually a fixture in Tate’s house. I can only assume he’s home, brooding.” Having lost my appetite, I pushed my soup away. “He denied sleeping with those girls in Nampa.” “Do you believe him?” “Do you?” “I’m really not sure,” Em admitted. “I had no doubt before, but knowing what I know now, I’m second guessing myself.” Indecision scrawled across her face. “Back in Pennsylvania, we had a conversation about marriage and finding the right one. He was so sure that his love life was hopeless. I’d assumed he was referring to Coop, but…” “You think it was me,” I snorted. “And the hopelessness of our situation drove him t-to seek comfort f-from his groupies.” “People cope in absurd ways.”

“That's messed up,” I voiced. “If that's his way of coping, I don't need it.” “That all came out wrong.” Em shook her head. “It certainly looked like he slept with them, but who knows what happened behind closed doors. Carter can be a jerk, but he has morals. Those girls couldn't have been more than eighteen.” Unconvinced, I rolled my eyes. “If it walks like a dog and talks like a dog…” Carter Strickland was certainly a dog. Determinedly, Em paused, gathering her thoughts. “I can't believe I'm saying this, but he's actually a pretty good guy.” “From what Jake told me, he pushed Shane's buttons until he fell off the wagon. Yeah, great guy.” “Carter had his reasons. Shane and I are better for it.” “Great guy.” “I never said he was a saint.” “It's f-fine, Em,” I assured. “Either way, it's all irrelevant. He's not in love with me.” “Merda!” Em gasped, anxious that her efforts had gone to waste. “Did he say that?” “He didn't have to say it.”

“That's not quite the same thing. Some people aren't good at saying it.” Em wasn't good at saying it. Her expression revealed that much. “He didn't call until he suspected I was pregnant.” Em’s frown deepened. Standing, she smoothed her clothes. “Carter will have to answer that one for himself.” She'd only come to sew the seed of doubt. Her job was done. Reaching back into the bag, she pulled out another Styrofoam container. She placed it on the table, and flipped open the lid. “There are certain times that call for skipping dinner and going straight to dessert. This is one of those times.” I stared at the double slice of tiramisu with unreserved veneration. “I'm eating that whole thing. I might throw up f-f-from gorging myself, but it'll be worth it.” “Have at it. Carter’s loss on both accounts.” And that fast, I was fighting tears. Because even if Carter loved me, I felt perfidious for loving him back. I mean, Haris gave his life for me. He was my strength and support when Carter turned his back on me. How could I do that to him? What would that make me? Stabbing into the dessert, I cut off a spoonful and stuffed it into my mouth. Then,

another. And another. My cheeks blimped out. I swallowed, took a breath and stole another spoonful. “You’re really serious!” Em observed. “You're going to eat it all!” “Famn fight,” I replied, my words muffled by tiramisu. Em reached for the tray, attempting to save me from my self-destruction. I poked her fingers with the tines of my spork. She jerked her hand back, surprised. “Cazzo!” “Lay the f-fuck off!” “There’re four servings there, Mattie!” “I don’t care!” Balancing the tray on my lap, I took another spoonful. “F-fuck it! It's not a bad way t-to go. Maybe I can eat myself to death!” “I don’t know about dying, but you’re going to make yourself sick.” Scowling, I broke off a chunk of espressosoaked lady finger and stuffed it into my mouth. The intense flavor of hazelnut swirled over my tongue. “Is there alcohol in this?” “Vin Santo,” Em replied. “Tiramisu means ‘pick me up’ in Italian. It’s not just the shot of espresso that gives it its name, you know…?” “Shit.” Neither caffeine nor alcohol were

good while breast feeding. “I can’t eat this,” I said around a mouthful of alcohol and espresso. Concern clogged my throat, refusing to let me swallow. Guilt forced tears to my eyes. I choked on a disconsolate sob, inadvertently drawing a sharp breath, and inhaling Em’s tiramisu. My eyes furrowed as the dessert reached my windpipe. Reflexively, I coughed. Hard. My hand didn’t quite reach my mouth in time, sending food flying in every direction. Unfortunately, Em took the brunt of it. Dollops of custard and ladyfingers speckled her dress and hair. Still coughing, I stared in shock. “I…” cough… “am…” choke… “so…” hack… “sorry…” cough. Em looked herself over and shook her head. “It’s no wonder the world is a dark and bitter place. This is what happens when you try to do a good deed.” “I’m sorry,” I wheezed. “It’s ok,” Em sighed. “It’s not any worse than the mess the dogs make of me. But I need to go home and change. I’m due back at the restaurant in an hour. Saturday nights...we need as many hands on as possible.” Grabbing a handful of napkins from the bag, she began wiping herself down. “Are you going to be all right? I hate leaving you like this.”

Swiping the rim of my eyes with the back of my wrist, I nodded. “I appreciate your stopping by.” Em snorted, a fleeting smile teasing her lips. “I’m sure you do.” “You were just t-trying to be a f-friend.” “Fat lot of good it did.” “Still.” Giving up on salvaging her dress, Em balled the napkins and tossed them back into the bag. “I’m sorry I didn’t make a good case.” “Carter didn’t give you much t-t-to work with.” Em stared blankly, a faraway look in her eyes. “I really can’t say what impelled me to come. I suppose…it’s just…he told me that my relationship with Shane didn’t need to be difficult. That we had it simple. I guess I figured yours didn’t either. Not anymore. The cat’s out of the bag. The worst that could happen has passed. If you want him, there’s nothing standing in your way.” I disagreed. I had a shit ton standing in my way. Haris. Two blondes.

Pride. “I just want to see you happy, Mattie.” “Thanks, Em.” I turned my head, hiding the emotion swimming in my eyes. I wish my life was that easy. But it was much more complicated. Em hesitated. “If you get hungry, call me. Anything. Anytime. It’s yours.” I managed a nod. Em patted my knee and clipped toward the door. She paused halfway and shivered, gazing over her arms. “Merda! A goose just walked over my grave!” “Nonsense,” Gram chastened, passing Em as she came into the room. “Our gravesites are as malleable as the paths we choose in life. You’ve still got a long road to travel before choosing your plot, sweetheart.” “Every hair on my arm is standing up,” Em marveled. Shaking her head in wonder, she passed through the door and vanished around the corner. “Bright girl, that one,” Gram observed. “Shane did well for himself.” “Gram,” I greeted, swallowing thickly. At the sound of my voice, Gram redirected her attention on me. “Matilda,” she returned. I was in trouble, distinguishable by her preemptory tone, and the use of my given name. She was here on

business. “You’re here late.” “I know. I don’t have much time.” “You didn’t have t-t-to come. I know you don’t like driving the f-f-freeway.” “No need to worry, child. I’m not driving.” Scooting a chair across the floor, she positioned it at the side of my bed and sat down. “You hate t-taking the shuttle.” She called it the Old Fart Cart, and said it smelled like old people, despite the fact that she was old. “Needs must when the devil drives.” “Well, thanks f-f-for coming.” “Don’t thank me yet,” Gram chastened. “I’m not here to exchanges pleasantries. I came to talk some sense into you. God knows, I won’t be able to rest knowing you’re lying here acting like a stubborn mule.” Averse to arguing, I looked away. “Don’t you turn your head away from me, Matilda Mae Whalen!” Gram snapped, raising her voice. “You don’t know what I went through to come here! Dang it if you’re not going to listen!” I turned back to Gram, my mouth pinched to a think line. My chin quivered.

“Do you think I don’t know what you’re feeling right now?” Her voice softened. She reached up and wiped a tear from my cheek. I grasped her hand, gathering strength from her solace. Slowly, I shook my head. “It hurts, Gram.” Not just the guilt. I was mourning. Even if I wanted Carter in my life, how was I supposed to overcome the guilt of Haris’s death? It felt like a violation of his memory, all he sacrificed. “I know. That’s why I’m here.” Gram cupped my cheek, staring into my eyes. “Haris is at peace, Matilda.” “Do you think so?” “I know it.” “How can you be so sure?” “Because you are safe and alive.” I choked, stifling a sob. Gram pulled me into her arms and held me tightly. The scent of her perfume was a palliative, providing a measure of comfort. “Don’t get me wrong; he loved you, but he would’ve defended a complete stranger if it came down to it. He was a hero.” “I didn’t deserve it.” “That’s nonsense, and you know it. It doesn’t take lust or romance to be a hero. It takes

morality. It takes the love of humanity. It takes selflessness, and instinct. Do you really think he would pause and take the time to decide whether you were worth risking his life?” “No.” Stroking my hair, Gram rested her chin atop my head. “You’re a good person. Don’t doubt that.” “I’m not. I keep screwing up.” “That, I won’t argue,” Gram chided. “You keep making decisions based on pride rather than fact and intuition.” “I’m t-t-trying not t-t-to screw up anybody’s lives worse than I already have.” “You’re trying to protect yourself from getting hurt again,” Gram argued. “You’ve loved Carter your entire life, Matilda. Did you think you could walk into his life and leave him unaffected? You know him as good as Jake does. Think about it.” “I don’t know.” “Yes, you do.” In the hall, someone cleared their throat. Gram and I looked up. The silhouette of a man filled the doorway. Discontented, Gram turned back to me. “Visiting hours are over. I have to go.”

“I love you, Gram.” “I love you too.” Gram tightened her embrace, a gesture of farewell. “Everything happens for a reason. That boy downstairs loves you. Now, go on and find him. You’re going to need him more than you realize.” I opened my mouth to object, but Gram silenced me with a point of her finger. “This is the second time we’ve had this conversation now! I won’t always be around to set you straight, Matilda! You’re acting like a dang fool! Now promise me you’ll do as I tell you, so I can be on my way.” “I’m sorry.” “I don’t want you to be sorry! I want you to be happy! If you’d get your stinkin’ head out of your ass, maybe you might actually hear what I’m saying!” “Ok! I’ll t-t-alk to him!” “Promise me.” “I promise!” Satisfied, the crease between her brows eased. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I’m not relegating you to a life of servitude, Matilda; I’m pointing you toward the future you always dreamed of. There’s no reason to

look so dour.” “Bye, Gram. Love you.” “Matilda.” Sighing, I rolled my eyes. “I can’t talk to him if I don’t know where he is. He probably isn’t even in the hospital.” “He’s here.” “Then I’ll find him.” Again, the man at the door cleared his throat. As he did so, he shifted his weight, but the light from above the nurses’ station kept me from making out his face. Taking her cue, Gram stood and headed toward the door. Before passing through, she hesitated and turned. “Next time you see your brother, tell him the papers he’s looking for are in a safe hidden in the utility panel under the bathtub.” “What papers?” “Legal mumbo jumbo for the house.” The man in the hall held out his arm. Gram hooked her hand along the inside of his elbow. As they turned, I caught a glimpse of his profile. A shiver rolled down my spine, a glimmer of recognition. Just as quickly, I shook it off. It couldn’t be. He was dead. It must've been a play of light. My eyes were tired. I hadn’t been sleeping

well. That and the guilt that refused to subside. I swear it was going to eat me alive.

Chapter 13 I lay there for several long minutes; wholly aware I wasn’t going to get any rest. Unsettled, I slid out of bed and padded into the hall. Jacqueline looked up from her desk. “Sweetie, what’re you doing up at this hour?” I turned my head, panning up and down the hall. There wasn’t another person in sight. The lights were dimmed. Except for the beeps of the monitors, the hall was silent. “I’m going t-to the nursery to see the baby.” “It’s three in the morning.” “Three A.M.?” It wasn’t possible. Gram couldn’t have left more than a few minutes ago… “Mattie, are you feeling ok?” Standing, she circled the desk and approached me. Her hand immediately rose to my forehead, checking for a fever. Feeling ok? No. I was confused. My thoughts swam through my head in a thick fog. “I must’ve f-fallen asleep.” “Have you been crying?” Reaching up, I touched my face, still damp

with tears. “Maybe you should go back to bed,” Jacqueline suggested. Placing her hand against my lower back, she guided me back into the room. At her insistence, I went back to bed. The doctor came, asked a slew of questions. Have you had any headaches? Nausea? Double vision? Slurring of speech? Dizziness? The questions went on. And those freaking pen lights. They were going to cause retinal damage. “Can I see my son now?” I asked, blinking away the floaters in my vision. My disorientation gave way to annoyance and fatigue. The doctor looked up from his tablet long enough to dismiss my request. “You should rest. I’ll prescribe something to help you sleep.” “I can’t t-t-take anything. I’m breastfeeding.” This time, the doctor paused, resting his tablet on the table. “Matilda, I’m worried that you’re overexerting yourself.” “Jacqueline can wheel me down.” Removing his glasses from his face, he rubbed his eyes. “Have you ever heard the analogy of the plane losing altitude? The cabin quickly loses pressure. The air masks drop down from the ceiling.

Does the mother place the mask on her child’s face first, or her own?” “She places the mask over her own f-face ffirst,” I replied. I had heard it before. A mother was no good to her child if she was unconscious. She had to take care of herself first. “Your son needs you healthy.” “You’re right,” I yawned. Stretching out, I pulled the blankets up under my chin. “Maybe I should skip therapy t-tomorrow, t-t-too. Balancing your checkbook while measuring rice really wears you out.” “You can go to the nursery,” the doctor permitted. “Just promise that you’ll get some sleep. I’ve been past your room while on rotation. It’s never empty.” “The downside of having an extended family.” “How about today we put the Do Not Disturb sign on the door?” “Deal.” “After therapy.” “Stickler.” Tossing back the covers, I shimmied to the edge of the bed. The doctor placed his hand on my shoulder, just as I was about to stand.

“Do me one more favor and wait for the wheelchair.” “I’m f-fine. Swear.” Nonetheless, I waited. Though Jacqueline swore that Gram hadn’t been to see me, I knew adamantly she had been in the room. I wasn’t crazy. I could still smell her perfume for Christ’s sake. She’d worn the brand for as long as I could remember. Ambivalently, Haris popped into mind. I wasn’t crazy. I wasn’t. It was a matter of guilt and exhaustion. When I wasn’t in therapy, I was with the baby, receiving visitors, or having my vitals read by one of the various nurses at some odd hour. I was tired, so fucking tired it wasn’t funny. I wasn’t crazy. “Mattie?” said Jacqueline, softly. “Sweetie?” I stood. The motion was automatic. There was no thought involved. I stood. I shuffled to the wheelchair. And I dropped into the leather seat. Jacqueline dropped the foot rests down, and we were off. The walk was silent. She didn’t press for conversation. For that, I was grateful. I couldn’t

take another minute. Too many thoughts were already spinning around my head. I didn’t need any more fodder to fuel the crazy. God knows, I was struggling enough as it was. When we finally reached the nursery, I found Monica inside, swaying back and forth to comfort the crying baby in her arms. It didn’t seem to care for her gesture of consolation. It’s tiny wails of distress echoed through the plate glass window and plucked at my heart strings. Peering through the window, I found Iain’s bassinet empty. I realized with a mixture of shock and dismay that the crying baby was Iain. Rapping lightly on the glass, I waved. Monica glanced up, relief brightening her wide, brown eyes. She immediately began weeding her way through the room, heading for the entrance door, which was secured. As she pushed open the door, I was hit with the full force of Iain’s wails. His tiny chin was quivering, his mouth gaping with displeasure. “He found his lungs,” Monica observed. “And he’s letting it be known.” “Holy crow” was all I could manage. I was taken aback and a tad nervous. I’d seen plenty of crying infants during my internships, but this one was mine.

“Do you want to try feeding him?” Monica suggested. “Sorry. Wow. Yeah.” As I reached for him, Monica placed him gently into my arms. “There’s a glider over there.” She pointed to a wooden rocker across the room. It was pine with a blue cushion. It could’ve been made of swords and nails for what I cared. As long as I could stop Iain’s wailing. Adjusting him in my arms, I headed for the chair. His tiny body was rigid with fury, his feet jetting straight out. His hands curled into fists. As I sat down, I loosened my gown and maneuvered him toward my breast. He immediately latched on and began feeding. He hadn’t the best angle, but I didn’t dare interrupt him. “Like most men,” Monica voiced. “Totally impatient when it comes to food.” “If he’s anything like his dad,” I agreed. Carter could put some serious calories down. And he had no preference of food. Sweet, salty, it didn’t matter. He was like a goat. He’d make a meal out of a tin can. “He looks like him.” I smiled in agreement. “He has his nose.” It was slender, and perked up at the end. I think he inherited it from his mother’s side, from what I’d

heard Jess say once. “His chin, too. It’s not quite a cleft.” “He hates that cleft. Though, it’s barely noticeable.” “But it’s so sexy!” Monica gushed, and quickly backtracked. “Not that I stared at it any length. In person. This decade. This was back when I was seventeen-ish, and single.” “I’ve stared longer. I have it memorized.” I think I naturally gravitated toward Carter over the others because he was the only one that was nice to me. I used to think it was because he liked me, but now that I was older, I realized that it was likely because he was the only one with a sister. He was seasoned on interacting with girls. It had nothing to do with me. “Well, I’ll let you have some privacy. When you’re ready to go back to your room, I’ll wheel you back. Jacqueline had to get back to her floor.” “Thank you,” for both the hospitality and the privacy. I think it was the first time I’d been alone and uninterrupted for any length of time. It would be wonderful to have five minutes to gather my thoughts and try to make sense of the mess my life had become. As I traced the curve of Iain’s head, I knew one thing. I was still madly in love with his father.

But then that was never in question. Gram was right, as always. I was letting pride and guilt rule my decisions. I wasn’t allowing myself to see things clearly. I needed to take a step back and look at things in a different light. Start over. Maybe I needed to provide Carter the same opportunity I gave Haris. It was only fair. God knows, judging him for sleeping with those girls was hypocritical. I had Haris, after all. I hadn’t slept with him, but I was contemplating a commitment with him. A relationship. Possibly marriage. How did that look through Carter’s eyes, taking his kid and running off with another man? Not to mention I hadn’t given him a chance to explain himself. This was all assuming that Carter really wanted me. He hadn’t visited in days. Maybe he’d finally taken the hint and fucked off. I wouldn’t blame him. I’d played too many games. Maybe I was right from the beginning. He was acting out of a sense of responsibility. Maybe he’d only ever wanted to be part of Iain’s life. As Iain released my breast, his mouth slack in repose, I feared I might never know. Maybe he said fuck it all and went back to Pennsylvania with his sister Jess. The rest of the band hadn’t seen him or his family since the day we argued. Maybe he’d tucked tail and ran again. “You should rest.”

Glancing up, I found Monica heading in my direction. “I didn’t hear you come in.” “You were in lala land.” Sliding her hands under Iain, she lifted him from my arms and placed him in the bassinet. “You need to learn to cat nap when he sleeps, that way you’re in time with his feedings.” “Easier said than done when I’m roomed halfway across the hospital. By the t-time I get back t-to my room, I’m wide awake.” In truth, I was at the farthest end of the hospital. The latter was accurate. “Maybe we can find you something closer to the nursery. Come on. I’ll wheel you back.” “Can’t I just stay here?” The glider wasn’t bad. It was decently comfortable. Nobody bothered you in the nursery at this time in the morning. “I know a better place.” She beckoned me, giving the wheelchair a pat. “Come on. I’ll do the driving.” Reluctantly, I rose from the glider and climbed into the wheelchair. Monica leaned her hip into the handles and began pushing me down the hall. “So, what’s it like to hang out with…the um… the guys…the band?” “Like having f-f-four big brothers, and you’re the f-f-fifth wheel.”

“That sucks.” “Yeah.” We walked for a stretch of silence, leaving me to my thoughts. “Maybe it’s different now. They all have girlfriends, you know. The vehicle no longer calls for four wheels, but eight.” “Maybe.” “Only one way to find out.” Making a sharp left turn, Monica steered me into room one thirtysix. We were in the wrong room, in the wrong hall, and on wrong floor completely. I was just about to tell her so when I noticed the patient in the bed. The room was dim, but I’d know him anywhere. I was acutely aware of his presence. Carter. The devil himself. Fuck me. Upon our entrance, he lifted his head. “Angel?” My lips crimped. “What are you doing here?” “I should be asking you that. This is my room.” “You’re a patient?” “You’d think the last place you’d get an

infection was in a hospital.” Until then, the IV had escaped my notice. His legs were under the blanket, but I remembered that his prosthetic had been bothering him. “Your leg.” “It abscessed.” “You should’ve stayed off it.” “When have I ever been one to take advice?” “T-t-true.” Rising from the wheelchair, I ambled to the edge of the bed. “How bad is it?” “I won’t be walking on it for a few weeks.” Lifting his hand, he glared at the IV with loathing. “They’re pumping me full of antibiotics.” “You don’t like needles.” “No, just afraid it’ll dilute my charming personality.” Despite my concern, my lips twitched upward. “You don’t have t-t-to worry about that. I think that bug up your ass is safe.” “Smart mouth.” Scooting to the side, he made room beside him on the bed. “Take a load off. You look exhausted.” “I am.” Hesitantly, I slid into bed beside him, and rested my head along the hollow of his

shoulder. “Baby keeping you up?” “No. Couldn’t sleep.” It was a lie by omission, but I didn’t want to worry him. He’d raise a stink just like the nurses and doctors. “I’m sorry about the other day.” “So am I. I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard.” “Nothing’s changed—” “I didn’t sleep with those girls, Matilda.” “It doesn’t matter.” “Yes, it does.” “Nothing’s changed the way I f-f-feel about you, Carter. I love you. Label me a f-f-fool. I don’t care.” “You don’t care if I slept with them.” His tone was full of doubt. Understandably. I’d blown my cool the last time the subject came up. I’d ostracized him. Why should he believe me now? “I made my share of mistakes. Who am I tt-to judge?” “I slept in the tub,” he insisted. “You did not.” “I swear on my mother’s grave.”

Fighting a smile, I rolled to my side, staring up at him. “Why am I the f-first one to hear about this?” It would’ve prevented a lot of heartache if he would’ve admitted as much to his friends earlier. “Because I don’t give a flying fuck what anyone thinks,” Carter exclaimed. “When have you known me to give a damn?” “F-For real. Why?” I knew he was lying, as far as caring was concerned. I was proof of that. If he didn’t give a damn what anyone thought, especially Jake, he wouldn’t have pushed me away. “I was pissed off.” Turning his head away, he stared up at the ceiling, and scrubbed his jaw with his fingertips. “I wanted something real, something solid, long before any of those idiots. Tate and Shane didn’t think a serious relationship was possible, their parents being divorced and all. Jake didn’t think he’d find anyone right for him—” “I didn’t realize my brother was so ppicky.” Carter snorted. “Angel, you’ve got a lot to learn about your brother, but he’s the last person I want to discuss right now.” “Understandable,” I agreed. “So…” I motioned for him to continue. “I was pissed off. I finally found someone who got me, and she was completely untouchable!

What kind of bullshit is that?” I ignored the part where he found me. I had in fact found him, but that was beside the point. Waiting for further explanation, I stared silently. I wanted to hear him say it. “I picked up the first thing I saw. They were young and blonde. Jake couldn’t say a word about it. No one could.” Still, I said nothing. He’d picked them up because he could, and no one could say anything. I was barely a quantity in the equation. I didn’t know if that made it better or worse. Turning his head, Carter blinked. “I’m a fuckin’ idiot.” “Would it have been so much worse t-t-to say f-f-fuck the band?” I inquired. Not that I wanted to break up the band. It was the last thing I wanted to do. Staring, his mouth twisted downward. “Where did you hear that?” “I didn’t need t-to hear it,” I lied. “It’s common knowledge. Jake was never subtle with his opinions, or what he thought I should wear, or how I should act around you all.” “I could give a shit about the band, and I could care even less about what Jake thinks.”

“That’s why you let him goad you into taking those girls back to your room.” “I didn’t sleep with them.” “Right—you slept in the t-tub.” “Behind a locked door,” Carter added. “After I got them trashed enough to pass out.” I huffed, my mouth popping open, aghast. “It was the only way to keep them off me!” “You’re not building my confidence here!” My lips pinched to a white line, I rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling. “I couldn’t do it! Ok? I couldn’t do it! I was so fucking close! I’m not going to lie to you, Angel! They were fucking hot!” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he shook his head. “And so fucking entirely stupid. Not an ounce of brains between them. Don’t get me wrong—that would never have stopped me before, but—” “That was before me, right?” I snorted. “Please don’t debase yourself with being so cliché. You’re sharper than that.” “Whatever. It’s true.” Still shaking his head, he closed his eyes. The first indication of obvious discomfort. “You’ve thrown me for a loop. For the first time in my life, I’m at a loss over what I’m supposed to do.”

“What do you want?” “You.” “Why?” “What kinda question is that?” “I don’t want you t-to feel obligated, Carter. I’d rather live amicably as f-friends than t-together f-for the wrong reason.” “See what I mean? You’re smart. Too smart for your own good.” “I don’t know about that.” “You’re doing it right now—overthinking things. Your biggest asset becomes a fault.” “Are you sure you’re t-talking about me?” Taking a deep breath, he sighed. “I’m not in it just for the baby. Jesus, I’m not asking for blind trust. Just a chance. I’m not in a rush here. I need to wrap my mind around all of this myself. You’ve been Jake’s little sister to me forever. Despite everything that’s happened between us, I can’t rebuild my way of thinking in a day.” My frown deepened. He loved me like a little sister. “There you go again,” he chided. “I didn’t say I wasn’t attracted to you. I’m not blind or obtuse, Angel. It’s more like I get this

overwhelming sense of guilt and shame every time I look at or touch you. Christ, I feel like I’ve defiled the Virgin Mary.” Lifting his arm, he rolled me back against his chest. I returned my head to the hollow of his shoulder. “I’m sorry I didn’t pick up the phone.” “It’s just as much my fault. I should’ve driven down to see you,” Carter dismissed. “But I needed time to think, and I figured you needed space, too. I thought I’d see you at Christmas when you came home.” But I hadn’t come home. It was then that Haris proposed his plan to play the father of my child in order to keep my secret. I hadn’t fully agreed, but I hadn’t declined either. He just assumed the lead, taking advantage of my indecision to ease his way into my life. The rest was history. “When I overheard Jake telling Tate that you met someone, and that it was serious, I assumed you’d moved on. Serves me right. I fucked up. Bad.” “Haris was a friend. A really good friend.” Carter snorted in contempt. “I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt. You can afford me the same measure.”

“It’s different. I saw you kissing him.” He had that much on me. He’d seen me with his own eyes. I had kissed Haris. It wasn’t the other way around. “What were you doing in my yard at three in the morning, anyhow?” “Coming to see you.” “At three in the morning…?” “Well, I sat outside debating for a few hours. I was going to climb in through the window in Jake’s room.” “You’re an idiot.” “I thought we already ascertained that.” “You could’ve gotten yourself killed.” “I’ve done it a million times when we were kids. My leg never stopped me before. It’s only about a ten-foot fall.” “No, it’s about a three-foot f-fall f-from your ass t-to the ground. Haris was using Jake’s room. He would’ve beat the living crap out of you. He was a boxer, you know.” “Yes, I’m aware.” “How did you get away?” “I know your neighborhood like the back of my hand.” He shrugged, blithely. “I ducked behind the rose bushes.”

“You hid?” I almost laughed, but Carter’s next words stopped me short, and left the bitter taste of shame lingering in my mouth. “One, I think I was still in shock. I wasn’t expecting to find you pregnant. I never thought you’d lie to me about something like that. Two, I didn’t know you were bringing Raging Bull home with you. I wasn’t really in the frame of mind to fight anyone.” Our bickering came to a halt. I could see the hurt in his eyes. I wasn’t the only one affected by that morning in the airport. My actions had far reaching consequences. Haris was dead. I’d almost lost the baby. And all over misplaced pride. Now, it all seemed so petty. “I’m sorry.” “I know. I get why you lied. I hate it, but I get it.” Lifting my hand, I rubbed the sting of regret from my eyes. I wasn’t going to cry. I had nothing left in me. I was exhausted, utterly exhausted. I had never felt so mentally weary. Grasping my arm, Carter beckoned me toward him. “Lie down and get some sleep, Angel. It’s the ass crack of dawn and the kid’s going to be hungry again soon. We can talk later.” Sliding back into his arms, I draped my leg

over his thigh, careful of his bandaged stump. “He eats like you,” I yawned. For once, I was thankful for my fatigue. It dampened the yearning touching him engendered. “He’s not a complete Whalen, then. I was beginning to wonder if he had any Strickland in him at all.” “Oh, he’s got your lungs too.” “He cried? Like, out loud?” I could understand his surprise. Until tonight, Iain had only made faint grunts, while kicking his legs to show his displeasure. “Yeah, and I can quiet him the same way I quiet you.” “Really?” Carter said, his tone wry. I wasn’t hard to read. My chest was already shaking with laughter. “And how’s that?” “I shove my boob in his mouth.”

Chapter 14 W

“ e should get up,” Carter murmured, still half asleep. The nurse woke us a moment earlier when she came to record his temperature and fluids. She slipped out as quickly as she slipped in, but the damage was done. Nonetheless, I really did need to get out of bed. The baby was probably ready for another feeding. I just couldn’t bring myself to move. “F-F-Five more minutes,” I reasoned, snuggling farther into his side and under the blankets. “Angel.” “F-Five minutes. I swear.” “My dick is rock hard right now.” My lips pulled into a smile as my chest shook with silent laughter. “Nice.” “Just saying—I’m feeling emotionally vulnerable. If you want to take advantage of me again, this’s an opportune moment.” “T-T-Tempting.” Not. I hadn’t showered in two days, or brushed my teeth in twenty-four hours. The last time I shaved my legs? I couldn’t

begin to guess. “Had to try. It’s been a while.” “You’re not going t-to give me a by-thehour accounting of t-time? It’s been eight months —” “Eight months. It’s been almost eight—long —months.” “You set a new record.” “You sure I can’t talk you into it? It won’t last long. We’re talking single digits here.” “Minutes?” “Seconds, Angel, seconds.” “Well…” Reaching down, I wrapped my fingers around his cock. It wasn’t a difficult trek, seeing as he was wearing a hospital gown. To my surprise, he quailed and knocked my hand away, clearly not expecting me to call his bluff. Frustration flashed through me, quick and brutal. He wasn’t serious. I mean, I knew he wasn’t serious. He never was. But I realized he was toying with me. He’d always been a flirt, and even now was only teasing me. He hadn’t expected me to act on it. Idiot. “Don’t go getting all pissy on me, Angel. You can’t erase twelve years of habit and denial in a day. It’s ingrained. But I’m getting around it.”

Threading his hand in my hair, he tugged my head back, and then dropped his head, brushing his lips against mine. We kept our eyes open, both watching one another’s reactions. “Oh yeah, definitely getting around it.” His hand slipped across my waist and around my back, pulling me against him. My breath left in a whoosh, a throaty moan escaping me. My knee rose, hitching over his hip, as he took my mouth, fervent and greedy. I angled my head, taking him deeper. Somewhere beneath the covers, Carter’s phone rang, vibrating against the mattress while spouting off some polyphonic ringtone. Carter froze. The moment was broken. “Ignore it,” I pleaded. “They’ll call back.” “I can’t.” As we released one another, he began rooting blindly for the thing. “It’s Jake. Considering we haven’t spoken since…it might be important.” A second later, the ringing stopped. Carter’s hand resurfaced. He raised the phone to his ear. “Yeah?” His eyes dropped to my face. “She’s here with me… in the hospital… room one thirty-six… no, it’s my room… She’s fine, why?” A long pause ensued. I could hear Jake’s voice, tinny and nearly inaudible. Carter looked deeper into my eyes, a crease appearing between his brows. “All right.” Lowering the phone, he ended the call.

“What was that about?” “Apparently you’re missing. They have an APB out on you.” “You’re k-k-kidding.” “No.” “Monica knows I’m here. She brought me.” “Apparently there was a miscommunication.” “I guess they c-c-called Jake.” “He’s on his way down now.” Taking my cue, I tossed back the covers and slid from the bed. It was the last place I wanted Jake to find me. “I’m going t-to use the bathroom.” “They told him you might be disoriented,” Carter said, grasping my wrist before I could walk away. “What happened this morning before you came here?” “It was nothing. I f-fell asleep and lost track of t-time. Like when you t-take a nap, but wake up, and you’re not sure if it’s seven at night or seven in the morning. I got t-turned around.” “That’s all?” Concern laced his features. “Why? What did they t-tell you?” “You were insisting that your gram came to see you.”

I made a noise of annoyance in the back of my throat. “Em passed her on the way out. I’m not delusional.” Pulling my arm from his grip, I padded into the bathroom. Leave it to the doctors to find an excuse to milk my insurance by extending my stay and running more tests. They were all bloodsuckers, the doctors and the insurance companies. Stepping into the bathroom, I closed the door behind me. Therapy had worked out most of the kinks from the accident. The only remaining impediment was my speech, and that wasn’t a cause for hospitalization. I could easily do outpatient therapy. Until now, I hadn’t argued, because it kept me close to Iain. But I was dying to go home. I wanted a place where I could sleep a solid eight without interruption. I wanted to relax in my own house, away from prying eyes and ears. I wanted normality. Turning the spigot, I let the water run hot, and splashed my face. The small ivory bar of soap was going to sap every bit of moisture from my skin, but I’d feel all the better for it. I lathered briefly and rinsed, then swished my mouth with the travel size mouthwash before trying futilely to make my hair presentable. It had grown into a thin layer of stubble where the doctors had shaved it,

looking like I’d had a war with a wad of gum and the gum had won. Sighing, I tugged Carter’s knit cap back over my head, hiding my source of shame. Supposing that was the best I was going to get, I tugged open the door. To my surprise, Jake was standing beside Carter’s bedside, having a civil conversation. I say conversation, but their hushed whispers ceased as I came through the door. They both stared at me with concern. About thirty seconds in, I decided the silence was discomfiting. Still, no one motioned to speak. “You’re both making me really nervous.” I voiced. They were unusually chummy when they should’ve been at each other’s throats. Jake wasn’t one to let things go that easily. “Sit down, Mattie,” Jake ordered, gesturing to the bed. “I’m f-fine,” I insisted. Though, I padded to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress beside Carter. His hand slid beneath the seam of my gown and rested at the center of my back, the rough pad of his thumb sweeping up and down my spine. “I’m sorry the hospital called you. It was all a misunderstanding. Monica didn’t let Jacqueline know where I was.” “Matilda.” Dropping his head, Jake pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Please don’t yell at me. I’m t-tired. I really don’t want t-to do this right now.” I couldn’t take another argument. Not today. Despite the ten-hour stretch of sleep, I felt far from rested. My head throbbed lightly, the threat of a headache taunting me. Stepping closer, Jake crouched down, grasping my hands in his. When he looked up, his eyes were red and rimmed with tears. “Oh, Jesus, you were really worried.” I’d seen him shout and yell until blue in the face, but I’d never seen him this far gone. I actually felt guilty. “I’m f-fine, Jake. Swear.” Slowly, Jake shook his head. “It’s Gram, Matt.” Trepidation clenched my gut in a tight fist. My eyes instantly sprang with tears. I shook my head, refusing to believe what he had yet to speak. “No!” “I’m sorry.” “No!” I repeated, my head whipping side to side. “I saw her last night! She was perfectly ffine!” “You couldn’t have seen her last night,” Jake insisted, his voice wavering. The sound cut me like a knife, searing pain straight to my heart. My big brother, always so strong. But his next words

hurt even worse, a different brand of pain. “She died just after the accident. You were still unconscious. It was a heart attack.” Before I knew what I was doing, I slapped him across the face. It had been weeks… weeks… and he was just telling me now? For the second time in my life, I was robbed of closure. Gram was already gone. He’d buried her without letting me say goodbye. I had a chasm where my heart belonged. A vast emptiness that gaped like an open wound. I’d lost my parents. Now, I’d lost Gram. No one should have to suffer that loss twice. It just wasn’t fair. I felt cheated. Abandoned. Orphaned. I had no one. Lifting my hand to my mouth, I wailed. A pitiful sound, even to my own ears. Carter looped his arm around my waist and guided me toward him. “Shh, I’m here. I’ve got you.” I was glad he didn’t say it was ok, because it wasn’t. My gram was gone. I’d never see her again. I’d never smell her perfume. I’d never hear her saucy laugh, or tell me I was being pigheaded. I’d never feel that pop of surprise when she said something off the wall, which she was prone to do. Gram was half her age. She was supposed to live forever. She was my guardian, my mentor, my confidante. How was I supposed to get on without her? Who would set me straight when I was drifting

off course? No one could lay it out flat like she could. Well…maybe one person. Gram was right about one thing. I needed him more than I realized. Cupping my head in his palm, he pressed my face to the warmth of his chest, his own breaths laden with emotion. I clutched onto his arm as pain poured out of me, raw and unstifled. In response, he hugged me tighter, pressing his cheek to the top of my head. I was only six when I lost my parents. I remember missing them. So greatly at times, I would cry myself to sleep. But in time, the pain lessened. Gram had slowly filled the void of loss. She hadn’t just bandaged my scraped knee. She crooned a song and kissed it better. When I’d hit puberty, she hadn’t just picked me up a simple bottle of astringent; she marched me into the area cosmetic store and bought me a complete regimen, including the right products to conceal its effects on my complexion. When I realized the boys I dated only wanted to get in my pants, or use me to meet the band, she taught me to hold my head up high, and set my sights a little higher. When I confessed I already had, she never discouraged or dismissed my crush. She kept my secret locked tightly away, speaking about it only between us.

My world fell out from under me. I thought I’d already hit rock bottom. Anything that could go wrong, had. But I’d been wrong. Profoundly wrong. Losing Gram was much worse. ♪♫♪♫ When I finally calmed, the worst of my tears having fallen, only then did Carter speak. His tone was soft, hesitant. “He waited, Angel. He waited a week, but you didn’t wake up.” “He should’ve t-told me sooner.” “He wanted to, but he thought… Jake and I were arguing, and he threw Haris’s death at me. He thought you heard us. You went into arrest. After that, he thought it would be better to wait until after you stabilized.” I did hear them, but that was beside the point. “I’ve been stable a f-few weeks.” “Two weeks, and stable is questionable.” “I’m f-fine.” “You think you saw your gram this morning.” “It was a dream, obviously.” “You didn’t believe that twenty minutes ago, even after the nurse told you nobody had visited in hours. You keep changing your story.”

“Are we t-talking about Jake or my brain injury?” “Both. I’m just trying to help you understand why he didn’t tell you.” Deep down, I didn’t blame Jake. He hadn’t done anything wrong. Processing everything, I felt horrible. He had to bury Gram alone while I was lying comatose in the hospital. It didn’t get that much rougher than that. Rolling to face Carter, my chin quivered. “I didn’t get to say goodbye.” “I’ll take you to see her on the way home.” Wrapping his arm around my waist, he pulled me toward him until we were touching from head to toe. “Can we go right now?” “After today…” He left the statement hanging. The doctors were going to want to run a few more tests and keep me under observation. “I’m not crazy.” “I never said you were.” “I’m not sick, either.” “A few days,” Carter reasoned. “Then we can take the kid home with us.” Home. Laying my head against his chest, I

sighed. Maybe I was better off. The house would only remind me of her. I wasn’t sure I was ready to face that yet. While she hadn’t lived there since I’d moved out, the rooms still smelled of her, of pine and citrus. Of home. “Speaking of which, we should go to the nursery,” he prompted, using Iain as a distraction. “Iain’s way past due for a feeding.” “What about your IV?” Reaching up, he pressed the nurses button. “Wait until you meet Methuselah. She’s a real peach.” “Methuselah?” “She loves me.” “About as much as I like an enema,” said a tall, padded, black woman, entering the room. “Come to think of it, you up my ass more than an enema. For a boy with one leg, you sure never sit still.” “I’ve got two legs,” Carter advised with a wink. “Right now, they’re almost the same height.” “Don’t you go getting perverted on me. I might be old in your book, but I can still whoop your ass.” Retrieving a set of blue gloves from a medicine cabinet on the wall across from the bed, she snapped them over her hands.

“Guess how old she is, Angel.” Her jaw slightly askew, she leaned against the table tray, clearly indulging his cocky sense of humor. Glancing between the two, I shrugged. I wasn’t touching that question by a mile. “Ninety-six,” Carter announced, a smile spreading across his face. Methuselah glared and shook her head. “I’m barely a day past sixty-nine.” “I should’ve remembered that. It’s my favorite number.” “Boy, what did I just tell you?” Her hand moved to her hip, her elbow popping in the air. “I have children older than you. I don’t need to know about your sexual perversions.” “I don’t get it.” Carter’s smile dropped, feigning innocence. “What’s so bad about sixtynine? Is that some kind of paraphernalia?” “Don’t play coy with me.” “Sixty-nine was a good year in music. The end of a generation. I don’t know where your mind’s at.” “You think I was born yesterday, don’t you?” “Sixty-nine years ago yesterday.” To me, he added, “Yesterday was her birthday. You should’ve

seen the cake. She almost set off smoke alarms from all the candles.” Methuselah stared, denoting the end of her part in the conversation. “This here the reason you been sneaking out every night?” She lifted her chin in my direction, a wry smile teasing her lips. “That was supposed to be between us.” “So was my age.” “See if anyone else writes you a song.” From his bed table, he retrieved a crumpled sheet of paper. Haphazardly, he smoothed it out before handing it to me. “Tell me what you think. It can’t be that bad.” “What’s it about?” “It’s an ode to the tribulations of old age.” Hesitantly, I lifted the paper, aware that he was trying to distract me. Carter couldn’t write worth a damn. “Eating my Mirabelle prunes “Bloating within, shudder, sigh “Grunting, bear, relieve oneself “Say a prayer, a plea for help “Bottoms up, detoxify “Flushing it, I’m horrified “As sixty-nine spreadable prunes go by…”

Raising my brows, I handed it back to Carter. “That’s horrible.” “It’s Ninety-nine Red Balloons, rechorused.” “She’s right,” Methuselah commented. “It’s horrible.” “Tough critics.” Offering it to Methuselah, he held it out. “Keep it. Put it in a frame. You’ll see. It’ll be worth something when I hit it big as a soloist.” “I don’t know about soloist. Maybe one of those fellas that write jingles or whatever they called. Mylanta might be the only one willing to pay money for that.” Offended—but not really—Carter retracted his offer. “There’s no need to go that far. I got the point when you said it was horrible.” Methuselah burst out laughing, shaking amusedly. “That’s for calling me Methuselah. You think I don’t know you’re calling me that when I’m not around? I’m old, but I ain’t no nine hundred and sixty-nine. I ain’t no white Hebrew boy either. I’m a God-fearing Baptist.” “It’s just a nickname.” “My name is Magdalena.” “Cause that’s so much better.”

“It’s the name my mama gave me. You don’t cut it up, and I won’t cut your horrible music up.” “I take back every nice thing I said about you.” “Boy, I’ll remember that the next time I change your bandages or undo your IV so you can go wheeling around to gawk at your girlfriend at night.” “Why do you have to keep bringing that up?” “Cause if she quits giving you the cold shoulder, then you quit sneaking out at night, and I'll get five minutes of peace and quiet between sponge bathing Mr. Stanley and Mr. Carson. I earned that break,” she dead-panned. “I deserve that damn break.” “Mr. Carson? That old geezer next door?” Carter asked. “The one with the hairy ears and flabby ass? You have to wash that?” “His penis looks like a naked mole rat.” “Gah.” “Senile shit took Viagra the other day. Kept calling me his Martha.” “Enough.” “I need that break, man.”

“You know what? You’ve got it!” “You sure? I could keep going…?” “Completely unnecessary, I assure you.” “Good. You want me to unhook that IV now?” “Nope. I’m good. I’ll just take it with me.” “Don’t be a fool. You called me in here to unhook you. I’ll unhook you.” “Can you put on a second pair of gloves first?” “But these clean.” “I’ll pay the five hundred dollars you’re going to charge the insurance for the second pair. You can never be too safe.” “Don’t worry. I ain’t gonna get Mr. Carson’s smegma on you.” “Oh, come on!” “I eat with these hands. You don’t think I clean them first?” “Of course I don’t—I mean I do—I’m sure you wash them…!” Holding out his arm, he surrendered. “Go ahead. Do it. Get it over with. I’m already missing a leg. What’s an arm going to hurt?” Shaking her head, Magdalena took his hand

and began disengaging the tubing. “Back in the day, my mama woulda told you to rub some dirt on it.” “Thank you, Oh Wise One.” “Remember not to bend your wrist too much or you could blow your vein,” Magdalena cautioned. Removing the IV, she ran her thumbs over the tape, pressing it to his hand. “I’ll see about having your antibiotics switched to oral. Save us both some trouble.” “There are so many quips I could make right now, but I won’t, since I know you don’t appreciate my perverted sense of humor.” “Is there anything else I can get you before you run off?” Magdalena asked, trying her best to refrain from fueling his antics. “A robe or something?” “Got one, thanks.” “Wear it this time. Can’t have you walking the halls in your hospital gown again. Folks might think you belong in the looney bin.” “They think that anyway.” “I’m sure you do your best to disprove their opinions.” “What fun would that be?” “Do you need help getting into your chair?”

“Does a baboon have two dicks?” Magdalena rolled her eyes. As she walked away, she muttered ‘crazy white boy.’ Though, her tone was one of affection. “Angel?” Brushing his fingers across my cheek, he gathered my attention. Glancing up, I managed a semblance of a smile. “Thank you.” “For what?” “The distractions.” “You have no idea the distractions I’m capable of.” “I have some idea.” I was seriously going to need those distractions. I was beginning to doubt that my hormones had anything to do with my rampant emotions, and was leaning toward brain damage. How else can I explain being visited by my dead grandmother? I was crazy. “Let’s go.” Pressing a quick kiss to my jaw, Carter nudged my back. I swung my legs down and stood from the bed. My entire body felt heavy, weighted with grief. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take before I collapsed completely. I was tired, so freaking tired. Inching toward the foot of the bed, he grabbed his wheelchair and tugged it closer. I didn’t

offer my help. He wouldn’t accept. He was too independent for that. Nimbly, he stood from the bed, turned on his heel, and dropped into the vinyl seat of his wheelchair. Situated, he looked up at me. “Come here.” Stepping toward him, I stopped between his legs. He had a different mind, and pulled me onto his lap. “Your leg,” I objected. It was still wrapped in gauze and an ace bandage. “My leg is fine. You aren’t.” I lifted my weight for him as he adjusted me over his lap, taking most of my weight on his healthier limb. “I’m ok,” I lied. It was poorly feigned. “Don’t regress on me, Angel. If you need a distraction, focus on me. I’m your personal wonderland. You can like…run your fingers through my hair. After waiting so long to touch it, once couldn’t have been enough.” “I think I’m sorry I ever told you that.” Among other things. “Why?” A flush crept across my face. “Because you’re f-f-flaunting it at me and it wasn’t meant as a joke.” “It’s not flaunting; it’s exulting. Now hold on tight.” Gripping the wheels to his chair, his

muscles flexed, and we whirled. The wheels squealed against the floor. Another few pumps of his arms and we were out of the room. Faces looked up as we glided down the hall. I smoothed my hand over my gown to make sure I wasn’t flashing anyone as we blew past, but the sweep of air across my face brought a hard-earned smile. Carter’s arms pumped harder until a small yelp of excitement escaped me. The lighting overhead strobed faintly, akin to our speed. Carter’s breaths picked up. His chest rose and fell in rhythm. Someone stepped around a corner. As we passed, they stepped back. Behind us, came a scoff to slow down. “Flip him the bird, Angel. I’m busy.” “Why the hurry?” I asked, one arm gripping his knee, the other locked around the back of his neck. As we turned a corner, I locked him a choke hold. “Oh my God! Carter!” “Going fast is funner.” “That’s not really a word.” “Saying funner is funner too.” “You really should slow down.” “Too fast?” “A little,” I admitted. “My brain is already damaged enough. I don’t need another collision t-to

f-finish the job.” Abruptly, we came to a halt. Carter reached up and turned my chin to face him. His hands were warm with exertion. “Your brain is perfect.” “You said it yourself. I saw Gram. She was as real as day.” I mused over the change of sides, and realized he was distracting me again. “You were dreaming. I wouldn’t worry about it too much.” His hand cupped the back of my neck, tugged me toward him. Now, I thought as his lips met mine, I’m dreaming. “You’re distracting me again.” “Maybe.” “I like this distraction the best.” “Me too.” His tongue swept into my mouth, sending a lightning strike straight to my groin. My insides warred, a dizzying bundle of nerves, juxtaposed to the smooth strokes of his tongue. I wondered if I was the only one affected by the kiss. Likely, I decided. Call me a fool. I didn’t care. Carter Strickland was kissing me. Threading my fingers into his hair, I broke the kiss long enough to smile. “Once is definitely not enough.” “You say these things that make me feel all

soft inside. It’s no wonder I never stood a chance resisting you.” From over my shoulder, someone cleared their throat. Loudly. Carter peered up, frowned. “Jake.” “She just had a craniotomy a few weeks ago. Do you really think whizzing her around on that thing is the smartest move?” “Jake,” Paisley warned. Grasping his arm, she tried to garner his attention. Here we go. Seemed my misery had no limits. “I’m fine,” Jake replied, shaking her off. “I told you I’m not going to do anything stupid. I just wanted to make sure she was ok.” “I’m ok,” I assured. “I’m sorry f-for earlier, Jake. I don’t know what came over me. Well, I do, but that doesn’t make it ok. You didn’t do anything wrong. I shouldn’t have reacted that way.” “It’s fine.” His shoulder went up in the air like a child. When I realized he wasn’t going to come any closer, I climbed off Carter’s lap and went to him instead. He met me in an embrace. It reeked with worry. He wasn’t a complete ass. “You sure you’re ok?” “I’m f-fine. Swear.”

“The doctors want to run a few tests. Just follow up.” “I f-figured they would. Are you going t-to stay?” There was a slight hesitation and then, “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea right now. I’ll stop by later. Give me a call when you’re back in your room.” When I was alone, in other words. “Sure.” Another brief squeeze and he relinquished his embrace. “Behave. No disappearing acts or speeding in the halls. Please. My nerves can’t take much more.” “Promise.” “I’ll see you later then.” A quick ruffle of my hair, and he was retreating down the hall. His nerves. No. I shook my head, dispelling the thought. I’d been through a lot, but so had he. “You didn’t have to do that—deflect his attention for me.” Glancing at Carter, I found his arms folded across his chest. A pout smeared across his face. “Maybe I was doing it f-for him. He might f-feel bad later that he punched you while you’re in a wheelchair. Not that you can’t defend yourself,” I said quickly when his back went straight as a rod.

“I was speaking more about his conscience and how he might f-feel afterward.” “I can defend myself just fine. And I don’t need a damn wheelchair.” My eyes popped wide, and I gasped as he rose from his chair, his gown tenting in the front, waist level. Looking down at himself, he smirked. “Yeah, that might’ve been a problem.” “Oh. My. God.” I gathered I wasn’t the only one affected by the kiss. Not by a long shot. An impressively long shot. But, Jesus, as if seeing Jake wasn’t a splash of cold water. “I think we might need to take care of this, Angel. It’s obviously not going away on its own.” Words failed me. My eyes, however… “Come on,” Carter pressed, a smirk inching its way across his face. “Are you really gonna make me come after you?” He lifted his brow, waited, and began hopping his way toward me. His cock… I think I just about died. It was the first time I laughed, truly laughed in days.

Chapter 15 Going home was incontestably more exciting than summer break. That’s for sure. I’d been poked, prodded, and examined more times than I could count. College exams hadn’t been that arduous. In the end, the doctors found nothing. Except for the slight stutter, I was healthy. “Is that everything?” Carter asked. I had a large duffle packed on the foot of the bed. Iain was strapped into his car seat. I’d dressed him in a pale blue onesie, assured by Carter that he would be comfortable. I’d ventured outside once or twice, but never long enough to get a true measure of temperature before returning to the nursery for a feeding or changing. I’d been lax on Iain’s feeding schedule for obvious reasons, but as the doctors ruled out any health concerns, and the tests diminished, I tried to spend time with him as often as possible. I didn’t want him to get spoiled with bottle feedings and in return reject my breast. I wasn’t one of those moms that was going to raise him free of all things good and tasty. I just wanted that bonding time with him, especially since I’d missed the first few days of his life.

“Should be.” It was a hospital room. There wasn’t much room for things to hide. Not that I’d had much here. A few changes of undergarments. A tablet to venture online. Reading material. Toiletries. The baby’s belongings. The most important thing—Iain himself. “Jake should be here any minute.” Biting my tongue, I walked to the window and looked out. The paparazzi were outside, waiting to snap a photo that might quell the masses with a daily dose of Hautboy drama, while providing the artist with a fold of cash to fatten his wallet. Me, I wanted the turmoil to end. Jake and Carter were still at odds, and their antagonism toward one another was eating at me. “He asked to drive you home, Angel. What was I supposed to say?” “I don’t know.” Iain’s entry into this world wasn’t a smooth one, but I hoped his ride home would be. I’d wanted to bring him home together. “I’m just going to stop at my place and get some things, and then I’ll be right over. I’ll probably make it there before you do.” “I hate this.” Crossing the space, Carter cupped my cheek. His hand slid into my hair. “I’m sorry.”

I looked up, met his gaze. “I'm just complaining. It’s not your f-fault.” “I’m pretty sure I played a large part.” “At least you’re putting your best f-foot forward.” That was more than I could say for Jake. “Still, you’re hurting. I’m sorry.” Leaning my head against his chest, I sighed in resignation. “You’re going to be there when I get home?” “We’re in this together.” “Good. You’re on diaper duty t-tonight.” “Knew you wanted me around for a reason. The truth finally surfaces.” “You got me. Guilty as charged.” Carter was lowering his head toward mine when movement caught the corner of my eye. In knee-jerk response, I stepped away. Jake came into the room, his expression a poorly painted mask of cordiality. “Today’s the big day. You all packed?” “Yeah.” “All right. Let’s hit the road. Is this it?” Jake gestured to the large duffel on the bed, then walked over to the car seat and peeked at Iain. “You have the seat base installed?” I asked. “Took three of us, but we managed. How

bout I take the bag, and you hold the car seat on your lap?” “I don’t know why I can’t walk.” “Hospital rules.” “I know. It’s just ridiculous. I’ve been walking around this hospital f-for weeks. Now I’m leaving and they’re worried I’m going t-to f-fall…” “Tell you what—you can walk to the wheelchair in the hall.” “Shut up.” I reached for Iain, but Carter beat me to him. “No heavy weight,” he reminded me, and then looked to Jake. “Nothing over twenty pounds.” “He weighs six pounds,” I pointed out. “The car seat weighs another fourteen, Angel.” “Did you actually look that up? You did, didn’t you? You looked it up on your stupid phone!” “I didn’t look it up. Siri did.” “You’re such a dork.” “I’m not a dork; I’m considerate. Now sit your ass in that chair so you can go home. If you spend any more time here, they’re gonna give you a

uniform and put you to work.” I could see mischief swirling in his dark eyes, seedy thoughts shaping into wicked illusions. “On second thought—” Glancing at Jake, he stopped short of whatever he was going to say. I could only imagine. Biting back a smile, I turned for the hall. Fuck it. I was going home. Nothing was going to burst my bubble. Not today. Nothing short of an allout brawl between the two. And while they were contentious, when they were around me, they managed to be civil toward one another. It was with utter jubilation that I sat in the chair, knowing that I would never have to sit in it again. I was giddy with delight. Like cloud fucking nine. No more needles. Tests. The constant sound of alarms and monitors…Jesus. That alone was enough to save my sanity. “All ready?” Jake asked. With the toe of his shoe, he flipped the foot rests down. Carter rested the car seat on my lap, making sure that I had a good hold before he let go. He bent, brushed his fingers across the top of Iain’s head. Ok, my good mood wasn’t impervious. I grabbed his sleeve, looked up at him. I hated the thought of parting ways, even temporarily. We were supposed to do this together. We were in this together. “I’ll see you back at the house?”

“I’ll stop by Em’s, pick up some dinner.” “Chicken Caesar. Dressing—” “On the side. I know.” Yes, I was watching my calories. I wasn’t starving myself, but I wasn’t inviting the extra baby weight along my waist to make itself at home. I had tolerated its brief stay, but it was time to move on. The extra padding was no longer welcome. And he was distracting me again. My expression tightened. “You know what, Jake—fuck you,” Carter said resignedly. “Mattie and I are taking our kid home. We can either ride with you or I’ll take them both in my own car. I’ll leave the choice to you. I’m not going to be the asshole here.” While my heart leapt, my stomach curled. I might just get that all-out brawl. A long moment of silence ensued. I held my breath, my fingers gripping the car seat. Please don’t let them argue. Please don’t let them argue. Please don’t let them argue. “Fine,” Jake said finally. “You’re riding with me. I’m not touching that seat base again. Things a bitch to install.” With a firm shove, Jake started down the hall. I craned my neck, feeling as stunned as Carter looked. He stood there a minute

or two, staring. And then followed us. “Don’t look so shocked,” Jake chided. “I’m not going to be the asshole either.” “You’re ok with this?” I asked. “I don’t like it, but apparently it’s none of my business.” “According t-to whom?” “Everyone. It was the general consensus.” “Well, thanks f-for caring what everyone else thinks.” Didn’t matter what I thought, apparently. My happiness didn’t matter. “I don’t want to fight, Mattie.” I didn’t either, so I let it rest. Unfortunately, as we turned the corner, it appeared Jake needed to clear the air. “Look, I can’t be there for you to vent about his bad habits. I can’t be unbiased. Although, maybe if I warned you ahead of time, I could’ve prevented all this. I’ve lived with him in close quarters. I have a laundry list I could’ve shared. You might’ve changed your mind.” “I’m not that far behind,” Carter spoke up. “I can hear you.” “Pretend you can’t.” Considering the subject, Jake’s tone was wry. He was coming around. “You certainly didn’t hear me when I said

my sister was off limits.” Ok, not completely around. “Jake.” Groaning, I rested my forehead against the arm of the car seat. “I’m just saying, I don’t want to hear about the petty bullshit, but if he develops a penchant for gambling, drinking, cheating, or lifts a fucking hand against you, you can come to me. I don’t ever want you to feel you have to resort to desperate measures. You have options. I’ll always be here for you.” “Thank you,” I said, “Now, can we drop this and never speak of it again?” “I can only pray that’s the case,” Jake conceded. “You know, did Jake ever tell you about how he and Violet met?” Carter wondered. “It’s a great story.” “Shut up,” Jake scoffed. “That was completely different.” Carter sneezed. It came out something like ‘hypocrite.’ “Wow, anyone got a tissue? Must be all that bullshit. It's irritating my allergies.” “Ok, so maybe it touched on the subject,” Jake admitted. “But I wasn’t friends with Paisley’s brothers. At the time. I never thought I’d see her

again.” I made a sound of disgust in the back of my throat. “You really make an outstanding argument.” What a great guy. “I’m just saying, there was no reason for Marshall to ban her from the playing field. He had no interest in her. She was fair play.” “You’re so disgusting,” I complained. “I’m marrying her,” Jake pointed out. “There’s obviously more involved than physical attraction.” If that was his way of proclaiming his love, he certainly had an odd way of showing it. Behind us, Carter sniggered. “Dude, you just keep digging yourself in deeper.” “It was different!” Jake exclaimed, losing his cool. Pulling my chair to a stop, he turned to face Carter. “You took her to your penthouse to get your freak on!” Carter argued. “At least with us there were emotions involved!” Throwing his hands up in the air, Jake shook his head. “I don’t want to hear the fucking details, man! She’s my little sister! You knocked her the hell up! The only reason I’m not knocking your head off right now is because Paisley had an epiphany at three in the morning, one that

corroborates emotions being involved! So please don’t yank my leg because that blade of hope I’m hanging onto is real fucking thin!” “Violet?” Carter blinked, taken aback. “What did she say?” “It was something Peter said the day she interviewed, and your reaction.” I stared, wishing one of them would clue me in. I felt like a third party. Basically, I was. This was between the two of them. Carter scrubbed his jaw, looking abashed. “Yeah, well, I was actually stupid enough to care about your approval then.” “You wouldn’t have gotten it,” Jake acknowledged. “Nobody would’ve. This is Mattie we’re talking about. Nobody’s good enough for my little sister.” The two stood there, deflated. Neither knowing what to say or do now that they’d aired their grievances. “What’s the bottom line, Jake?” I asked. I wanted to get home. I wanted to do it amicably. I wanted Carter to be beside me. I shouldn’t have to choose. “What’re you saying?” “The problem’s mine. I’ll get over it.” “Just like that.” Doubt suffused my tone.

“Well, no, obviously, but I’m going to try my best not to show it. If things don’t work out, it’s not going to be because I stood between you.” “That’s considerate.” “I’m trying, Mattie. Give me a little credit.” “Jake, if I didn’t like Paisley, would you break off the engagement?” When he didn’t answer, I took that as a big fat negative. “That’s what I thought.” “But—” “The subject’s closed! I don’t want to t-talk about it anymore! I want t-to go home!” Iain stirred, his face contorting over the tone of my voice. “Technically, I didn’t bring it up,” Jake voiced, stupidly. “You asked Carter t-to let you drive me home!” “I asked to drive you home so I could take you to see Gram! I wanted a private moment alone with you so we could say goodbye!” “You didn’t say that!” Again, his silence confirmed his guilt. He had the nerve to call me immature. “You’re showing it, Jake. It’s written all over your f-face.”

“I’m sorry.” “Gimme the keys,” I demanded, holding my hand out. “Come on, Mattie.” “Give. Me. The. Keys.” “I can’t. Matthew has them.” My frown deepened. “How convenient.” “He’s security.” “We’ve never needed protection f-from the media before, not without T-Tate around.” The ladies loved Tate. Therefore, the media loved Tate. The rest of the band, not so much. They were just a side note. Until now. “That was before the accident. We’ve all been thrown into focus over ‘the spate of unfortunate luck that’s befallen our merry band.’” Carter air quoted the words, pulling them from the tabloids themselves. “Wonderful.” “It’s nothing to worry about,” he assured. “Sometimes the photographers get pushy. It’s good to have someone to act as a buffer.” “Right.” Dropping my head, I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Can you just t-take me home. I’d really like to go home. I just want to go home.

Now. Please.” “Sure, Angel. Anything you want.” Abandoning his defense, Jake grasped the handles to my wheelchair and continued down the hall toward the exit. “Sure, Angel,” he muttered. “Anything you want.” I bit my tongue, refusing to fuel the argument. I'd stifle his self-righteousness with silent indifference. Turning the corner, the sight of Taylor and Matthew stifled any lingering emotions, and engendered a unified front against the media. “We were getting ready to come after you,” Matthew commented. “Thought one snuck through security and waylaid you in the hall.” “How is it out there?” Jake inquired. “Realizing that the car at the main entrance is a ruse.” Jake looked toward the doors and frowned. “Let’s get moving then before there’re too many to handle.” “I’ll take Mattie out first. She’ll take the middle row driver side,” Matthew instructed. “Jake, if you could take the baby. Stay close behind. You can take the middle passenger side. The faster we load up, the better.”

“Carter’s riding with us.” “He can take the front seat. Taylor and I will take the back seat. Everyone got it?” I nodded, and as Jake lifted the car seat from my lap, I rose from the chair. Matthew looked at me expectantly. “Ready?” “You’ve dealt with stadiums that hold thousands of f-fans. I’m sure you’ve seen worse.” “Yeah, but the client is more precious this time.” Placing his hand at the small of my back, he ushered me through the doors. The noise hit me like a wall, solid and unyielding compared to the din of the hospital. Flashes burst. I dropped my head to shield my eyes from the strobes of light. Matthew ushered me along, taking my arm and guiding me forward. “Miss Whalen, can you tell us about the attack—Did you know your attacker—Do you plan to accept the plea deal—Do you have any lingering injuries—How about a picture of the baby—What was your relationship with Haris Kovač —Is he the baby’s father—Where does Carter Strickland stand in all of this—Is it a boy or a girl—Just one photo of you with the baby…” the pleas continued as I climbed into the SUV and slid across to the far side. A second later, Jake locked the car seat into the base. Instead of climbing in beside me, he stepped

back and took Carter’s crutch as he took his place. “You all right, Angel?” “Fine.” Reaching over, I pulled back the tent obscuring Iain from the photographers. He was stirring, but asleep. “What did they mean about a plea deal?” “Just poking for information. It’s what the media does.” “Will they follow us to the cemetery?” “The real nut jobs.” “We called ahead,” Matthew said as he climbed into the seat behind us. “Gates don’t open until nine. The caretaker will be there to let us in so that you can have a little privacy while you visit.” “Thank you.” I appreciated it more than he could imagine. The thought of some photographer cashing in on my grief had my insides twisting. “My condolences,” said Matthew. Derek shifted into drive and pulled slowly away from the crowd. A minute later and we were coasting down the freeway. Leaning forward, Matthew peered over the seat. “He looks all Whalen,” he observed, gesturing with a jerk of his chin toward Iain. “He’ll be a true Strickland once I shape and mold him with my unparalleled personality,” Carter replied, true to form.

“Some might call that child abuse,” Jake quipped. “Some people who don’t want children should keep their opinions to themselves.” The two dismissed one another’s observations by flipping the bird. I thought, or at least hoped, that the worst had passed between the two. Flipping the bird was a good sign in its own twisted way. “How’s he behaving for you?” Matthew asked. He had his own child, but I knew he was diverting my attention from Carter and Jake’s backbiting. “The wheelchair didn’t slow him down, but the crutches have. Which is good because he ttends t-to disappear every time Iain’s due f-for a diaper change.” “That’s completely coincidental,” Carter said defensively. “Your phone miraculously rings every time he poops!” Which was often. “I can’t help that Jess calls to check on me.” “You gag over the smell, let alone the sight of a little poo!” “That much is true,” Carter granted. “But I’m not avoiding anything. I changed enough

diapers while you were recovering. I was just taking a step back to allow you time to bond with him.” Matthew’s deep chuckle shadowed our bickering. “I was asking about the baby, actually.” I knew that. I’d taken the opportunity to make a jab at Carter. It was all in good fun. Something I hadn’t done enough of lately. But, as the moment passed and the humor faded, I was left ruthlessly sober, and dreading our destination. “He’s doing well. He’s a bit of a night owl. And he’s been a little irritable since the circumcision.” “I can imagine,” Matthew empathized. He sat back in his seat, obviously uncomfortable with the subject. Carter had had the same reaction. More so when they’d brought Iain back to the room after the procedure, wailing in complaint and nearly inconsolable. “But everything went well, I take it.” “Perfect.” Resting my head against the back of the seat, I closed my eyes. The cab smelled of leather and an array of colognes. It was a nice change from the sterile smell of the hospital. Rays of sun struggled to break though the tinted windows. I was tempted to open it so I could bask in the early morning sun, but didn’t want the rush of wind to disturb Iain. He was sleeping soundly. Carter traced my hand, drawing my eyes open. Smoothing one long finger down mine, he

tested the feel of my skin before lacing his fingers between mine. Our eyes caught for a moment before he looked away. His expression was enigmatic, totally unreadable. I closed my eyes again, confused over the disparity between his action and reaction. What the fuck was that? For the next thirty seconds to fifteen minutes, I puzzled over how I was supposed to interpret the fleeting exchange. Meanwhile, my hands were growing sweaty. I mean seriously fucking sweaty. I wanted to yank my hand from his. But he was still holding on. His deliciously calloused fingers still grasping mine. My mind started wandering over those calluses and how they felt against my skin. Whether I’d ever feel them on my skin again. My hand began sweating worse. Fuck. Not when he was throwing me enigmatic looks. “Angel?” Flinching over the proximity of his voice, I opened my eyes. Carter’s face was inches from mine. “My dick,” he whispered, “finally crept back out of my body cavity where it’s been hiding since the mention of the ‘procedure.’ I think you just sent it back into retreat.” My relief was palpable. I was an idiot. Always overthinking things. “Seriously, you need to stop using that word. You shouldn’t throw it around so casually, as

if he’d gotten his hair or toenails trimmed. In fact, it really doesn’t need to be mentioned ever again. Like never ever. From this point forward.” I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. “I’m sorry.” “No, you’re not. You’re laughing.” I didn’t bother denying it. “I think you’re more upset about it than he was.” “He’s too young to be properly indignant.” “He was properly indignant,” I disagreed. “It’s the loudest he’s cried yet.” If that was possible. Once he’d discovered his lungs, he used them often, testing their limits in range of complaints from a mild tempered bleat to a fullfledged wail. “Maybe,” Carter allowed. “But he got over it easily enough.” Leaning closer, I lowered my voice to a whisper. “You forget I have the duel power t-to pacify.” Of their own accord, Carter’s eyes dropped to my breasts. His expression shifted, his features once again enigmatic. He donned neither a smile nor a grimace. A simple absence of emotion. Completely inscrutable. Before straightening in the seat, he kissed my fingers. But he didn’t look at me

again. Those bright blue eyes avoided me with every ounce of conviction. I rebounded between perplexed and indignant. Yes, I knew indignant, too. I hated not being the intermediary of my own emotions. I was tired of being propelled back and forth at another’s whims. Pushed and pulled in every direction by the tide of the ocean. Leave me. Leave me not. Love me. Love me not. Grieve me. Grieve me not. We pulled to a stop outside the Lakeview Cemetery. On the other side of the fence, the caretaker climbed out of his pickup truck and opened the ornate metal gates. Derek coasted through at a slow crawl. Behind us came a terse honk. I turned my head, peered over my shoulder. The second of our vehicles remained at the entrance, blocking the path to several smaller cars. The caretaker quickly closed the gates, barring the entrance to the interlopers hoping to snap a few candids. “Fuckers,” said Carter under his breath. “Some people have no morals.” Jake snorted from the front seat. It had nothing to do with the photographers. Annoyance bubbled up inside of me. I hadn’t expected him to

accede in a day, but it had been over a month since the truth came out. He needed to get his shit together. And fast. “Mattie,” Matthew prompted. He extended his hand to help me out. I grasped hold and slid from the cab. My ankles stung as my feet touched the ground. As I waited for the pain to fade, Carter rounded the SUV. “I’m gonna wait here with the baby.” Before I could reply, he tugged me against him and kissed me, whipping me in yet another direction. I could handle a little turbulence. As long as I had an anchor to keep me from floating adrift. I needed consistency. Carter wasn’t yet that person. He was still figuring things out himself. Still separating me from Jake’s sister. Breaking the kiss was a feat in self-control. Somehow, I managed to leave the warmth of his lips, the draw of his embrace. I didn’t look up to see the indecision or regret in his eyes. My heart couldn’t take it. I was already having palpitations over dealing with Jake alone. “I won’t be long.” “Take your time.” I panned around myself, spotting Jake. His jaw was tight, his expression relentlessly sour. He led the way down the narrow path of graves,

toward the crop of cedar trees that overlooked the family plot. Grandpa couldn’t have picked a more beautiful resting place. We stood at the top of Capitol Hill, overlooking the picturesque Portage Bay. The founders of Seattle rested here, along with Bruce and Brandon Lee. Good company, I’d decided. Gram had been tickled at the notion of having such good company in the afterlife. Except, “Gram wanted t-to be cremated.” “She’s buried next to Grandpa, and across from Mom and Dad.” “She said she wanted to be—” “Scattered across Grandpa’s dresser. I know. She also said she thought maybe she would finally be able to rest beside him, seeing that he couldn’t snore.” I smiled as we reached her grave, while tears blurred my vision. Sounded like Gram. “She’d be ashamed of the way you’re acting, you know.” Jake winced as if I’d slapped him. “Jesus, Mattie, is this really the time or place?” “No point in wasting an opportunity. Gram would respect that.” “I thought we settled this at the hospital!” “Obviously not since you’re still being pigheaded!”

“I’m being honest.” “You’re being a douche!” “Have a little respect, Mattie! We’re in a cemetery!” “I am! I’m respecting Gram’s f-final wishes! She wanted me t-to be happy! Why can’t you?” “I do!” “Do you love me? At all?” “Of course I do!” “Do you consider Carter a good friend?” “I did.” “You’re being close-minded! A f-few weeks ago, there wasn’t a thing you wouldn’t have done for him! T-Two people you love, care about each other! Be happy f-for us!” “I’m trying!” “Try harder!” I demanded. “I’m serious, Jake!” “Jesus.” Annoyed, Jake strode a few feet away, kicked at the grass. “Carter! Why Carter?” The question was rhetorical. Still. “Why do you think, Jake? Because he has a really big dick!” I shouldn’t have said it, but I couldn’t help stooping to his level of maturity.

Violence erupted in Jake’s eyes. He snarled, actually snarled. And then he lunged for me. I squealed and bolted, ducking behind Gram’s headstone. Even in rest, she was still saving my ass. “I swear it, Matilda, if I get ahold of you, I’m gonna do what I should’ve done a long time ago! I’m gonna knock some fuckin’ sense into you!” “You stay away f-f-from me!” Jake rounded the stone in a few long strides. I ran, jumped behind Dad’s stone. “I’m not kidding, Jake!” “Jake!” Matthew came jogging in our direction. Taylor and Carter weren’t far behind. “You really don’t want to do that, man.” “Fuck off,” Jake spat. “Stay the fuck out of it!” Though, he seemed to reign himself in, to my relief. I’d really thought he was going to beat the crap out of me. He shook off Matthew’s hand from his shoulder, but not before Carter swung and clocked him one. Jake’s head snapped back. “She just got out of the hospital, you fucking moron!” he shouted. “What the fucking hell! You’re chasing her around a yard full of stones! What if she fell and hit her head?” Scowling, Jake blotted his lip with his arm. He didn’t look at me. Or the others, for that matter. “I’ll catch a ride with Marshall.” Turning, he

stalked off, nursing his wounded pride with a swing at an unassuming tree limb. Leaves burst and fell to the ground. My chin began to quiver as the adrenaline faded and my emotions got the best of me. I dropped my head, hiding my face. I wasn’t going to cry. I just wasn’t. I refused to. Not over Jake. I’d come to pay my respects to Gram. Things had escalated a little too quickly. “Hey.” Shuffling in my direction on his crutches, Carter pulled me against his chest. “It’s ok.” “No, it’s not.” I think I might’ve just broke up the band. “That didn’t go at all like I had expected.” “He’ll come around,” Carter assured. “In his own time.” “I don’t know. I haven’t seen Jake that mad in forever.” “You probably shouldn’t have brought up the size of my dick. Not that I don’t appreciate the compliment, but the subject was already sensitive, and we are talking about Jake here.” “Maybe not,” I agreed. My laugh was messy, hoarse with unshed tears. “But he was acting like a douche.”

“So I heard.” “Were we that loud?” “Enough to wake the dead.” “Oh.” I winced. “That was bad. So bad.” From the car, I heard a tiny wail, and then a plea for help. “Um,” Derek called, “Guys?” He slid from behind the wheel and glanced into the rear seat. “The kid’s awake.” “I’ve got him,” said Matthew. Backing away, he jabbed a thumb at his chest. “Pro, remember?” Not if Iain was hungry, I thought. I didn’t have much time. As Matthew headed toward the car, I looked toward Gram’s grave. Carter let me go. I ambled toward her, knelt at her side, and said a quick goodbye. Before rising again, I placed the bouquet of flowers on her grave. “We can stay a little longer,” Carter assured. “No need to rush.” “I said my goodbyes already.” Back at the hospital a week earlier. She was at peace. As was Haris. I had to believe that. Some days, the memory of our conversation was the only thing that kept the guilt at bay. Whether it was a dream or a visit from beyond, I had to believe. “Angel.”

“I’m not crazy.” “You think your dead Gram came to visit you.” “Doubt all you want but I know one thing, if she didn’t, we wouldn’t be t-together right now. She was certain that my happiness lay with you. She made it clear she wouldn’t be able t-to rest until I came t-to my senses and gave you a second chance.” “I’ve always had the utmost respect for your Gram,” Carter backtracked, wagging his finger at me. “If you see her again, tell her I appreciate her sagacity.”

Chapter 16 Actually arriving home was a different monster entirely. Half of me was relieved over the sight of Gram’s house. The other half was mourning the loss of the woman who owned it. Had owned it. Though she hadn’t lived there in years, the place now sat truly empty. Well, except the few cars lining the driveway. I wasn’t sure who those belonged to. “Em and Paisley are here,” Carter pointed out. “Em said she was dropping off some food,” Matthew explained, “so you wouldn’t have to cook for a few days.” “God bless her heart.” Carter rubbed his belly. As if he hadn’t just eaten an army’s supply of bacon and eggs. He claimed it was celebratory of our discharge. I countered that he’d been discharged a week earlier. He acknowledged that while that was true, he had spent more time at the hospital with me than at home. “You can’t possibly be hungry again,” Derek objected. “They delivered your breakfast on a forklift.”

“I’m on the mend. Healing creates an appetite.” “You’re part goat.” “Fu-u-u-u-uk you,” Carter bleated. He cuffed the back of Derek’s head and climbed out of the car. He stretched leisurely, catlike. Then ducked his head and peered into the cab. “Touch that damn car seat and I’ll succeed where Jake failed.” “I’m not t-taking the car seat,” I clarified. “Just the baby in it.” “Leave him. He’s sleeping. Besides, you’ll need both hands free to handle Em. She’s Italian, remember?” “I’m sure that’s somehow insulting.” “It’s a fact. They hug. They kiss. They feed. And when you think they’re done, they pass the bread and heap another serving of manicotti on your plate. It’s wonderful.” Shaking off his ardor, I left the car seat to Carter and headed into the house. As I climbed the stairs to the deck, the swing sat dormant, and unwanted reminder of the past. I had the fleeting inclination to have it torn down, but I realized it wasn’t a solution. The memory would remain vivid for years to come. The back door opened. I half expected to

see Gram come out, but Em emerged instead. Her eyes brightened, and as she advanced, the porch swing sat forgotten. “Welcome home, sweetie! I’m glad to see you finally busted out!” She kissed either cheek and wrapped me in a hug so tight, I could’ve mistaken her for family. “I think Jake was paying them t-to keep me.” Em’s grip wavered. “If Jake was paying them to keep you, then God bless him. The cost must’ve been exorbitant.” “I can’t complain,” I agreed. “It kept me close t-to Iain.” “How is the little guy?” “Great. Carter’s bringing him in.” “Good!” Em enthused. “Let’s go in. I’ll feed you while you fill in the details. And I mean details. I want to hear every little tidbit. You can start with you and Carter.” Grasping my elbow, Em ushered me through the door, and to the closest seat at the kitchen island. “Go ahead. You can talk while I make you a plate.” “I’m really not hungry.” “Nonsense. You’re a string bean. If you’ve had the privilege of giving birth, you can at least have the decency to bear the scars of pregnancy for

a few months.” “I have scars.” Tugging Carter’s cap from my head, I revealed the atrocity. The right side of my head had grown in, a whopping one inch of hair. I really didn’t know what to do with it. Nothing worked. Em corroborated my horror with an appropriate gasp. “Merda!” “Right?” “Have Carter fly you to L.A. The stylist there did an amazing job on Paisley’s hair.” “Was that a compliment?” Paisley asked. “On my hair? Do go on!” Trotting down the stairs from the second floor, she crossed the room and climbed onto the stool beside mine. “I would, but I’m trying to get the scoop from her before Jess gets back or the boys come inside.” “There’s not much t-to t-tell,” I warned. “I’m t-taking things one day at a t-time.” “Oh, come on,” Em objected. “You went AWOL and showed up in his bed. That’s not nothing to tell.” “We t-talked.” I shrugged, feigned way more blithely than I felt. “We were in the hospital for God’s sake.”

Em pulled it off better than I did. “Never stopped Shane.” “For real,” Paisley seconded with a snort. “They don’t get stage fright. They’re used to crowds.” “Nothing happened. Swear.” I held my hand up, as if I’d ever belonged to a scout troop. “But not because I’ve t-turned him down. F-For the record.” “Then what’s the hitch?” I lifted one shoulder. “I’m still Jake’s little sister.” “He got over it once,” Em dismissed. “He’ll get over it again.” “I know.” Ducking my head, I tugged the cap on, hiding my hair. “Not without a lot of work. The potential’s there. I mean—everything works, but then his conscience gets in the way. The guy’s had sex with God know how many girls, but when it comes t-to me, he balks. Where is the justice in that?” Em’s eyes swam with titillation. My dilemma was her diversion. I tried not to get irked over her blatant amusement. “You count. If you didn’t, he wouldn’t have any reservations.” “I agree,” Paisley chimed in. “Though, I

can’t believe the guy has emotions other than narcissism and vulgarity.” “You stood up f-for him,” I pointed out. “I surmised a theory.” “So I’ve heard. What is this theory exactly?” “My brother gave Carter his blessing, under the assumption that I slept with him. I think it struck a nerve, because Carter stormed off and gave Jake a bloody nose.” Sour that he couldn’t be granted approval from the one that counted, no doubt. So, he’d lashed out at him. “That’s one heck of an assumption.” Paisley laughed. Full-heartedly laughed. “Oh please. Me and Carter? Not a snowball’s chance in hell.” “He sure can kiss, though,” Em confessed. “Marone.” Her eyes went dreamy like before she caught herself. “Not that I’d ever admit it to Shane.” “Ew.” Grimacing, Paisley shifted uncomfortably on her stool. “If I was hungry, I’d have lost my appetite.” “Oh, come on!” Em scoffed. “Your toe lifted in the air! It was like something out of a romance movie!”

“That’s because I was about to knee him in the balls.” “Bah!” Em burst with gleeful contempt, causing Paisley to bristle in her seat. “We only kissed to annoy Jake!” “As I was saying,” I said dryly, “he has no qualms over t-touching other girls. Just me.” The smile faded from Em’s face. She wagged her wooden spoon at me, willing me to believe her words. “You had his baby, Mattie. If you were able to disarm him once, you can do it again.” “Are you even up for the challenge now?” Paisley inquired doubtfully. “You have to be exhausted.” “I wouldn’t say no if he made a pass at me,” I qualified. “But unless I’m the aggressor, I don’t think anything beyond kissing is going t-to happen.” “Wait a couple weeks,” Em resolved, “and if he hasn’t made any advances, we’ll pull out the big guns, and have a girl’s day out. I’ll get Coop to come. We’ll take a day to beautify. Buy something to knock his socks off. Then we’ll see if he resists.” “I’m not worried about his socks.” I wasn’t worried about his pants, either. It was the lying

undercurrent that concerned me. “I like being pampered as much as the next,” Paisley voiced. “But I don’t see the point of lingerie. Nothing means business like your birthday suit.” “It’s supposed to be a tease.” Lifting a plate from the counter, Em turned and spooned a few raviolis onto it. She followed with a healthy ladle of gravy and a couple meatballs. “You have to leave a little to the imagination, you know?” “Build the anticipation.” “Exactly!” Em beamed. “Men are children at heart. Undressing you is like opening a present on Christmas morning.” Placing the plate on the counter, she slid it toward me. “Regardless of what I wear, I can’t wait ttwo weeks.” Using the edge of my fork, I broke open a meatball. Steam billowed out. I lifted it to my lips and blew. My eye caught Em’s, found her laughing at me. Self-consciously, I glanced at Paisley, who was laughing too. “I meant f-for a girl’s day out. I could use a little pampering. Especially a haircut.” “You just got out of the hospital,” Paisley pointed out. “You should be resting.” “Give it two weeks,” Em agreed. “It’ll give the stylist something to work with.”

“I can’t promise anything.” I popped the meatball into my mouth and chewed. Swallowed. Washed it done with a sip of cola. “I almost can’t blame him for not being able to look at me. Without this hat, I look like Frankenstein. Maybe I’ll just do a Brittney Spears.” “You wouldn’t.” “I might. I can’t stand this hat anymore. My head is itchy.” The knit didn’t smell like Carter anymore. The novelty had worn off. “Don’t do anything rash,” Em pleaded. “It’s not unsalvageable.” The back door swung open. Carter stepped through, empty handed. He took a cursory glance around the room before his gaze landed on me. “What did I tell ya? Manicotti!” “Ravioli,” I corrected. “And meatballs.” “Toe-mae-toe Toe-mah-toe.” Crossing the space in a few short strides, he grasped my hand, lifted it to his mouth, and stole the square of pasta from my fork. “Damn that’s good stuff, Em.” “You need to talk to your girl, there, Carter.” Em gestured to me with a wave of her spoon. “She’s talking about buzz cutting her hair.” “For real?” Raising his brows, he looked curiously at me.

“Maybe. Should I ask where you left Iain?” “He’s outside with Jess on the swing. She’s eating his cheeks.” “Ooh, I’m going to get some before there’s none left for me.” Em dropped her spoon on the counter and headed out the door. “Help yourself, Carter.” “Gee, thanks.” Em’s peals of delight drifted through the open door. Carter was left to fend for himself. Shaking his head, he circled the island, lifted the lid from the pot on the stove. Assuaged over the notion of a full stomach, he grabbed a plate from the cupboard and began assembling a monster meatball sandwich. “Was the ride home that bad?” Paisley asked. “Yes,” Carter and I said in unison. Carter followed with “I’m assuming that he got a ride home since he and Marshall didn’t follow us here.” “He thought it would be best since Jess was going to be here. He didn’t want to cause more of a scene.” “What else did he t-tell you?” I asked. “He’s sorry. That if you two need anything at all, to give him a call so that you don’t have to

run out.” I had the feeling Paisley was elaborating on his message. “We should be fine,” Carter declined. “Jess picked up some groceries.” “I picked up a few things for the baby. More diapers and wipes. Some diaper ointment. Baby wash. Powder. Onesies. Burp clothes. Crib sheets. One of those little tubs. Wash clothes. A few squeaky toys. Oh, and this teddy bear with a heartbeat. It’s supposed to help the baby sleep. You put it in his crib with him. Jake gave me his credit card,” Paisley explained when we’d both stared at her in question. “Told me to get whatever you’d need. I figured I’d go all out. He owed you for acting like an ass.” “I always liked you, Violet.” “Ew.” Paisley grimaced. “God, that’s so gross. I need to go wash my ears out. See if I can wipe the sound of that from my memory.” “Hardy har har,” Carter scoffed. The two stuck their tongues out at each other. Paisley slid from her stool. “Seriously, I’m going to bandage Jake’s self-esteem before he bleeds himself dry. He probably doesn’t deserve it, but—Oh, hell, why lie? I’m going to take advantage of the situation. Sex is always better when he’s

pissy.” “Ew.” My nose scrunched up. “Now that’s gross.” “One man’s misery is another woman’s pleasure.” “Please, say no more,” I begged. “You’re painting t-t-too vivid a picture. This is Jake we’re talking about. My brother.” Paisley smiled unapologetically. “If you need anything at all, call me. Really.” She leaned in, lowered her voice to a mock whisper. “I still have his credit card.” “I know exactly what I need,” I calculated. “A hairdresser that makes house calls.” “I’m sure we could find one, but then we wouldn’t have an excuse to have a girl’s day out.” “You just got home,” Carter interjected. He paused, midway to lifting his sandwich to his mouth. “Are you up for a day out so soon?” “If it means looking presentable again, yes.” “Unfortunately, Em works next Saturday, and I’m on shift next Sunday,” Paisley apologized. “It’ll have to wait until the weekend after.” “I’m starting to f-feel like Everett McGill from Oh Brother Where Art Thou; I’m t-two weeks f-from everything.”

“Jess is pretty good with a pair of clippers,” Carter offered. “I shave cats and dogs in prep for surgery,” Jess said. “My area of expertise doesn’t extend to human heads.” Adjusting the baby on her shoulder, she glanced at Paisley. “Em’s waiting outside. Said she’s catching a ride with you.” “She just went out to see the baby.” “I know. She tried to steal him from me. I threatened to cut the bitch if she came anywhere near him. He’s mine.” Lifting one of Iain’s tiny hands, she marveled over him. “I only get him a few more days. She can ogle him all she wants when I’m gone.” Carter spared a moment to look up from his sandwich. “Nice.” “I’m kidding,” Jess scoffed. “He spit up all down her dress. She’s outside cleaning herself up, muttering something about tiramisu.” “On that note,” Paisley settled, “I’m out of here.” Pulling her keys from her pocket, she turned for the door. “See you soon, Mattie.” “T-Two weeks.” I guess that was the best I was going to get. If I didn’t butcher my hair before then. I couldn’t guarantee my patience would hold out. It was wearing thin.

Paisley paused outside the door, where Em met her. Em was still scrubbing at her dress, but looking up long enough to wave goodbye. “Chow, Mattie. I’ll call you.” As they walked off, she muttered a few imprecations in Italian. Babies hated her. She was cursed. She should’ve killed Tommy Machiavelli when she had the chance. “Can’t argue there,” Jess agreed. “She should have.” “You know Em’s ex?” I asked. It was a small world. “Richard is his lawyer,” Carter explained, “or at least the firm Richard works for.” “That’s a conflict of interest, isn’t it?” I wondered. Richard represented the band, while the firm he worked for represented Tommy Machiavelli. “Not much longer,” Jess answered. She looked at Carter expectantly. Carter looked stricken for a fleeting moment, as if he’d been caught doing something bad, but as he took in the smile spreading across Jess’s face, relief settled in. “Richard is opening his own firm?” “Here,” Jess confirmed, “in Seattle.” “You’re moving home?” Carter’s smile

matched Jess’s, in size and appearance. “For real?” Jess nodded. “We’ve all agreed.” “What about your practice?” “I’ve already found a great piece of land here,” Jess admitted. “What do you think Gabi and I have been doing all week?” “She’s ok with this?” “She wants to get into music. Who better to teach her than her uncle?” Jess glanced down at Iain when he stirred. “We’ll be flying back and forth to oversee the building of the new facility and check out potential offices for Richard.” “Jesus,” Carter marveled. “You’re really doing it.” “I miss it here, and now with the baby…” She wanted to be closer to family. Gazing down at Iain, her eyes glazed over with affection. “I can’t have anyone showing up Auntie Jess.” “I don’t think that’s possible. You bought him a toy that walks like a dog and barks like a dog, but not really a dog.” “It’s a dog. Every boy needs a dog. It’s a rite of passage.” “I didn’t have a dog!” “I know, and I’ve always felt guilty over it.”

“You bought Iain a dog,” I stated. He was just a baby. By the time he was old enough to appreciate it, the thing would be about to bite the big one. “I know what you’re thinking, but he’s a small dog. A Yorkie. Well, a mix. Mutts are always healthier. Not as many genetic defects. He’ll be around for a long time. Maybe twenty years. In fact, Iain will probably be taking him off to college with him when the time comes.” “You bought him a chick’s dog.” “I bought him a chick magnet. He’ll appreciate it someday.” “Well, it’s a good thing you’re moving back to Seattle. If it’s anything like Em’s dogs, it’s gonna cost me a quarter mill in veterinary bills.” “He’s in perfect health. I’ve examined him myself.” “Where is he?” I asked. I had to see him. I had reservations about the timing. I’d just gotten home. Iain was sure to keep me up all hours of the night. The last think I needed was a puppy yelping to go outside. Yelping to be fed. Yelping to yelp. Gram had had a dog. While he was cute, he ate everything in sight, including socks, mittens, crayons, and anything else that would fit in his mouth.

“You look worried,” Jess observed. “It’s ok,” I lied. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. “Dogs are known to relieve stress,” Jess offered. “Why do you think I surround myself with them?” “Because they make you rich,” Carter scoffed. “It’s all a racket if you ask me. Doggy day care. Doggy salons. Doggy health insurance. What ever happened to feeling their nose to check whether they’re sick?” “When Iain’s not old enough to tell you himself, are you going to trust a warm forehead to distinguish a common cold from something more serious? No? I didn’t think so.” Sparing a glance at me, Jess nodded toward the mudroom. “He’s in there, sweetheart.” As I made my way into the mudroom, the tone of her voice altered. “The money I made in the profession you deem ‘a racket’ paid for your first guitar, the guitar lessons, and everything that paved the way for your profession, so think twice before you decide to knock it, blockhead.” While Carter begged his defense, I peered into the bright pink pet carrier, unprepared to have my heart stolen yet again. It splintered into a third fragment. Or perhaps it grew a third larger in size

like the infamous Grinch. The corners of my lips curled into a well-defined U shape, complete with tiny curls on the ends. “Oh my God, look at you! You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen! Like a tiny teddy bear!” Other gibberish spewed forth as I opened the door and extracted the puppy from its cage. Immediately, I tucked it under my chin, nuzzling his tufts of chocolate fur with my nose. “Damn it! I’m keeping you! I’m so keeping you!” His eyes were round, glassy beads, engendering the kind of emotions reserved for animals you can cup in the palm of your hand. When his tiny, pink tongue lapped at my chin, I just wanted. To. Die. I mean seriously die. My heart couldn’t take it. It was going to explode with awe. The public was going to read about my death in the headlines. Woman Survives Near Fatal Car Collision; Dies of Massive Coronary. All I could think: it would all be worth it. For a lovely—though brief—sojourn, I had escaped the trivialities of my life. A few minutes— or years—longer would’ve been treasured, but Carter and Jess’s voices robbed me of my pipedream. “I thought that with the kids, the band would slow down a little,” Jess explained. “Maybe you’d stick a little closer to home, work in the studio.” “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about us

going on tour for a while. Hautboy’s on an extended hiatus. Indefinitely.” “Jake will come around, Carter,” Jess assured. “It’s just going to take some time. This’s thrown us all through a loop.” “I don’t know,” Carter doubted. “After the scene at the graveyard, I’m not so sure.” “You slept with his little sister. What do you expect?” “I’m trying to do right by her! Give me a little credit!” “I don’t think she wants or needs you to do right by her, Carter. This is the twenty-first century. She wants romance. She wants love…” “I do love her.” Just not in the way I wanted. I was still Jake’s little sister.

Chapter 17 Week one was uneventful. In every aspect. Iain had fallen into a three-hour routine of eating and sleeping. Three hours wasn’t bad, but it was exhausting. As were Carter’s efforts ‘to do right by me.’ What should’ve come naturally, felt contrived and overacted. I needed some fresh air. Freshly showered, I sat on the edge of my bed and laced up my running shoes. I wasn’t allowed to lift any weight, but I could walk. Standing, I waited for the rush of blood to subside, and then walked to the mirror. I’d braided my hair to the side, and slipped a skull cap over my head. It was the best I could do without cutting it off. I only had to put up with it another week. In the reflection, I saw Carter stop at my door and lean against the jamb. “What’re you doing?” “Taking the baby f-f-for a walk.” “The decorator’s coming to go over the plans for the bedroom. She’ll be here in an hour.” Of course she would. I always had something to do. It was like he was purposely keeping my schedule

full with trivial activities when I wasn’t napping. We were either doing puzzles, playing games, watching movies, or anything else that kept me from stepping foot outside. “That’s plenty of t-time. I’m only going around the block.” Carter opened his mouth to object, but changed his mind when he noted the determination in my stance. “I’ll come with you. Give me a minute to dress.” I didn’t mention that he was still on crutches. It’d piss him off royally. In hindsight, perhaps it was the reason he didn’t want to venture outdoors. It’d piss him off even more if I backed out now. “I’ll get the stroller out.” “Fine.” As he stepped into the bathroom, he pulled his phone from his pocket and began punching at the screen. He didn’t even object over the excessive weight of the stroller. Odd. Whatever. I pulled the door closed behind me as I walked out. Quickly, I stepped across the hall and lifted Iain from his crib. He barely stirred as I rested him on my shoulder. Brutus, however, whined in complaint over the eviction of his bedmate. He’d taken to sleeping beside Iain, which was fine, because it meant keeping him on schedule as well. One week and we were nearly accident

free. Through the night, at least. Housetraining was going well. Not spotless. No pun intended. But relatively smooth by my book. Grabbing Brutus in my other hand, I trotted down the stairs. Just as I reached the back door it rumbled with a knock. I pulled back the curtain, peeked through the pain of pitted glass. Matthew. Behind him was Taylor. I tugged the door open and stepped back to let them in. “Your timing is impeccable.” “We were in the neighborhood. Thought we’d stop by and see how everyone was doing. I see you survived your first week.” “I’m going stir crazy, actually. I was just going out f-f-for a walk.” Making my way back into the living room, I placed Iain in the car seat and buckled him in. Brutus curled up on his lap, but kept a curious eye on our visitors. “Let me get that for you,” said Matthew, reaching for the car seat. Lifting it to his waist, he peered inside. Brutus flattened his ears, cowered down over Iain. Matthew blinked in surprise. “What the hell is that?” “Brutus. He’s a gift f-f-from Jess,” I explained. “She says no f-family’s complete without a dog.” “I don’t think he counts.”

“He counts.” They followed me back through the kitchen and into the mudroom where I unfolded the stroller. Matthew lowered the car seat and locked it into place. “Someday he’ll prove his worth, won’t you Brutus?” Brutus blinked back at me unassumingly. “His ferocity is unnerving.” “He’s fine as long as you don’t feed him past midnight,” Carter warned, joining us. He leaned against the counter for support while he tugged a t-shirt over his head, hiding the trail of hair traveling southward from his navel. “What, is he going to turn into a little green goblin?” Matthew asked, tearing me from my blatant staring. “No,” Carter snorted. “He’ll go on a shit fest all over the house. A shit shit here. A shit shit there. Here a shit. There a shit. Everywhere a shit shit.” I scowled, the proud mama. “He only pooped in the house once.” “He does it again, I’m gonna stick a cork in his ass.” Unable to restrain myself, I laughed. “He was in the middle of pooping on the f-floor,” I explained, “when Carter spotted him and started shouting.”

“I was being assertive. He was shitting on the floor. My kid is gonna crawl across that carpet someday. I don’t want him resting his face where that little fucker took a shit.” “I’m not condoning that he pooped in the house; I’m just pointing out that by yelling, you scared the shit out of him. Literally. He left a trail across the f-floor as he was running away.” “Look at it this way,” Matthew reasoned. “You could have one of Em’s dogs to clean up after. They shit the weight of your dog. Each. Twice a day. Regularly.” “I like my dog, thank you. Not t-to mention, I already have Carter t-to clean up after.” He was leaving jagged little pieces of my heart everywhere. “She meant Iain,” Carter told the others. “Everywhere he goes, there’s a trail of diapers and burp clothes.” As I eased the stroller through the door, he followed me on his crutches. “I meant you,” I threw over my shoulder. “Everywhere you go, there’s a t-trail of dishes. You never stop eating.” “I told you, I’m healing.” “You had chocolate cake f-f-for breakfast.” “It’s no worse than a donut or éclair.” “Your logic amazes me.” I don’t know how

he didn’t weight fifteen hundred pounds. Meanwhile, I had an egg white omelet with spinach and mushrooms. I approached the stairs with caution, stared down the small flight with consternation. Carter eased around me, going down first. Then reached up and grasped the front of the stroller. “Bring it down slowly.” I lifted the stroller and carried it down one step at a time. When I reached the bottom, I realized I made another grating error. Gram’s driveway wasn’t paved. The crushed stone wasn’t going to make for a smooth ride. The narrow path stretched out before me like a bad joke. Arriving at the same conclusion, Carter lifted the car seat from the base and began lugging it down the driveway, while I watched with remorse as he struggled with his crutch. The padded brace wobbled beneath his armpit, sure to cause bruises. After much ado, I pushed the stroller across the gravel, following him. “I'm seriously getting this paved.” “Your gram liked the quaintness of the gravel.” “She didn't have to deal with strollers.” “We can turn around,” Carter suggested. “We’re not there yet.” I made no response. I wasn't

ready to throw in the towel. As we reached the curb, however, Carter was. “Are you sure this can't wait another week or two when I have my leg back?” “I just want to go around the block.” “I won’t be able to keep up.” My eyes narrowed. Carter would never admit weakness, not where his leg was concerned. He was up to something. “The doctor said I shouldn’t lift over t-twenty pounds,” I objected. “He never said anything about walking.” Abandoning the ruse of his own disability, he dropped his head, pushed a hand through his hair. “I’ll take her,” Matthew offered. “I won’t let her out of my sight. Taylor can stay here with you and the baby.” “Fine,” Carter said, after much contemplation. “Watch the time. We have an appointment—” “In f-forty-five minutes,” I interjected, glancing at my watch. “I could do a f-few miles in that time. I’m only walking a block.” Or two. “Just…be careful.” Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth. It was flat and chaste and platonic. My heart withered just a little.

Just as it had each day for the past week. “I might have a speech impediment, but I think I can manage placing one f-foot in f-front of the other.” With a pout, I turned and strode off, my annoyance visible in my gait. I walked three blocks before I slowed, another three before my annoyance waned. Matthew had barely broken a sweat. I was dripping. I had no idea how’d I’d gotten those few blocks. I didn’t remember crossing the first street, let alone the second or third. Matthew could tell me, I supposed, seeing that his head was pivoting back and forth, scanning our surroundings. “For someone who knows adversity,” I observed, “he’s being awfully smothering” “He’s worried about you.” “That’s such a typical response. It wasn’t even an attempt at consolation. It was a weak pat on the back without the ‘there there.’” Matthew grinned contritely. “Sorry for my lack of a better reply.” Returning my focus to the path, I picked up my pace. I didn’t want to burden him with my problems. He’d only offered to babysit me as a favor to Carter. Being a man, I thought perhaps he could provide a different perspective, but I guess I’d thought wrong.

I needed the girls. I needed a plan of attack. Em was right. I’d disarmed Carter once. I could do it again. The plot was already taking shape in my mind. My armor…a sexy red negligée. My sword…an aged bottle of bourbon. My shield…to blind him with shock and awe. This time, he’d see me coming. And I’d render him unable to resist. I was about to shed the ridiculous illusion of innocence once and for all. Pulling me from my machinations, Matthew began herding me toward the inside of the sidewalk, his body brushing mine. I began to slow, averse to falling. Another head injury is the last thing I needed. The next thing I knew, his hand encompassed my arm, pulling me to a stop. “What are you doing?” I objected, yanking my arm from his grip. The idiot wasn’t even looking at me. His head was turned, watching a blue sedan. The driver was staring back at us, stretching his neck as he coasted slowly by. He blew a wolf whistle before punching the gas and speeding off. Matthew placed his hand on my shoulder, gave it a consolatory squeeze. “Sorry.” “What was all that about?” “Habit.” He tapped his temple, flashing a rueful smile. “We’re trained to be on alert at all

times.” “You’re not on duty.” “While the bands on tour, we’re on duty twenty-four seven. It’s a hard habit to shake. You can’t just turn it on and off.” “As much as I appreciate your concern, you’re wasting your t-time. If I had a quarter f-for every t-time some guy looked in my direction, I’d have more money than the entire band combined.” Stepping around him, I continued around the block and headed toward home. I had plans to make, starting with the master bedroom. If I was supposed to seduce Carter again, it wasn’t going to happen in my childhood bedroom. The place was a sexual deterrent. Too many memories lay within the walls to remind him of the past, of the little girl, Jake’s sister. Said object of my attention sat on the porch step, evidentially awaiting my return. He stood as he spotted me coming up the driveway, relief palpable on his face. “I thought you were going around the block.” “I did, and then I went around a f-few more.” Carter made a noise in the back of his throat, as if I’d committed a felony.

“Relax. The only danger I encountered was when some random stranger drove past. Matthew ff-felt the need to jump in the line of f-f-fire to deflect a wolf whistle.” “That’s not funny.” “Actually, it was f-flattering.” At least I knew someone found me attractive. Sliding past Carter and Taylor, I jogged up the steps and headed toward the door. “I’m going t-to get cleaned up before the decorator gets here.” Upstairs, I tugged my tank top over my head and started the shower. My muscles burned deliciously after weeks of shuffling around in my hospital gown. I felt invigorated, alive. Later, I’d likely crash, and crash hard, but I was all for living in the moment. Almost dying had that effect on you. For now, I could find appreciation in something as simple as a bendy straw. Stretching my arms behind my back, I unhooked my bra and let it fall to the floor. My underwear followed. I stepped out of the two threads of Lycra and plucked them from the floor. “Angel?” Carter knocked lightly before opening the door. He didn’t see me right way, due to the angle of the dresser, but as expected, his breath caught and he muttered an imprecation under his breath. Then turned to leave and walked

straight into the door jamb. “Fuck me!” “Somehow, I doubt that’s an offer.” Might’ve been the way he was still shielding his eyes with his hand like some adolescent at a horror movie. “Jesus, Angel, you could’ve warned me!” “You can look, you know.” “Tempting, but we have company downstairs. The decorator’s here.” Hastily, he wobbled through the door on his crutches. “I’m going to see if I can get her anything while you dress.” Before I could reply, he was gone, the door closed firmly between us. He tucked tail and ran. Again. Well, he was right. Fuck him.

♪♫♪♫ Not a quarter hour later, I descended the stairs of the second floor. Feminine laughter rang from the master bedroom. I followed the sound down the hall, ignoring the curdling in my gut the best I could. It was difficult, seeing that he was entertaining another woman in my abode. Maybe I was being petulant. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t care. It was my house. He, on the other hand, wasn’t my man. He couldn’t even look at me.

He was making her laugh. The ugly green bitch reared her head. I stood in the hall, just outside the door, hoping to recover a semblance of maturity. It was all I could do to keep from going inside and making a scene. I had no reason to be jealous. I was angry and blowing things out of proportion. “I don’t usually go for younger men,” the woman cooed, “but for you, I’d make an exception. You’re simply irresistible. Mmm, I’m just going to start right here and eat you from the bottom to the top.” A surfeit of lip smacking and moaning ensued. I died. Fucking died. A million hideous deaths. What the actual fuck. This had to be a horrible, horrible joke. “Oh shit!” Carter gasped, sounding truly alarmed. “Ooh…ah…let me get something to clean that up.” There was a rustle of clothing. The padding of bare feet on the wood floor. “I’m really sorry. It’s been awhile since—” “That’s going to stain, isn’t it?” “Sorry about that. I’ll pay to have it cleaned.” “No need to apologize. It comes with the territory.” “Seltzer water!” Carter exclaimed. “That’s what they used to use in the old movies. I’ll go see

if we have some.” I scrambled, first left, then right. There was nowhere to hide. Knocking into the side table didn’t help my escape. The vase teetered in a circle, an alarm bell to my eavesdropping. “Angel?” I froze, stared up at Carter. Guilt surged through me, and then accusation. My eyes narrowed. “What’s going on?” “Iain puked all over the decorator.” “He wha…?” “She was eating his toes and he just puked. Spit up streamed out of him like a bottle of champagne.” Leaning closer in, he glanced askance, and then stared me in the eye. “That’s not even the worst…” He paused, rubbed his face, trying to erase the thought from his mind. “There was this drop on her bottom lip. It was either a reaction or she didn’t know it was there, because she ran her tongue across and…Jesus, I think I’m going to get sick.” I bit my lip, trying to stifle a laugh. “It’s not funny!” Carter snapped, completely aghast. “I’m sorry. It’s just so much better than the alternative.”

“Alternative to what—a towel?” Shaking his head, he headed into the kitchen for a bottle of seltzer. “I don’t know what’s with all you women wanting to eat their fingers and toes, anyhow. It’s weird. Just weird. So fucking weird.” The alternative was much seedier than a towel. I was glad I was mistaken. To boot, the whole farce had diffused my anger enough that I could think clearly. I was no longer a homicidal maniac, bent on murdering the woman making moves on my man. I was merely the jealous girl, striving for the full attention of the man she loved. And failing. I had to try harder. Step one in my plans was about to be set in motion. Staging the bedroom. Words couldn’t describe how relieved I was to meet the decorator. She was nothing like I’d pictured, judging by the sound of her voice. It, her voice, was Ginger Grant. Her appearance was Mrs. Poole. Carter’s fidelity, if there was such a thing, was safe. For the time being. Dimples didn’t accurately describe the craters in her cheeks. I’d imagine, in anger, they’d

remain immovable, a gross contradiction to her emotions. Her auburn hair was meticulously coiffed, each curl teased to perfection. She wore a black pant suit. Several white stains soiled the lapel. Despite her recent bout with Iain’s digestive upset, she managed a smile. “I’m Doris. You must be Mattie.” “It’s nice t-to meet you, Doris. I’m sorry about the…” I gestured to her jacket. “I can t-take him if you’d like.” Her expression faltered fleetingly at my stutter. She was quick to recover herself. “It’s no trouble. He’s just precious. Though, it might be necessary so I can show you the plans I’ve drawn up.” She passed Iain back to me, and grasped my arm once I had him settled comfortably against my shoulder. “My condolences. I’m so, so sorry to hear about your grandmother. She was a wonderful woman.” “Thank you.” Once she was sure I wasn’t going to break out in tears, she retrieved her portfolio from beside the door. “She showed me the house, gave me an idea for your style. I pulled some inspiration from your bedroom, and I did another drawing based off the rest of the house. You can pull elements from one or both. Whichever you prefer.”

I nodded for her to go on. “Your bedroom is distinctly New Hampton, so I pulled in lots of white with accents of grays and a little black. The walls are pale gray, leaning toward the warm side. We can pull in another accent color, but based off your bedroom, I stuck with neutrals. The furniture is discretionary. I’ve pulled in pieces that are in stock. However, I have several auction houses that I visit weekly if you’d like something aged or unique. I know a great carpenter who’s phenomenal with refinishing. Though, it’ll add time to the schedule. Do you have a target date?” “As soon as possible.” Like next week. “Have you ever worked a miracle?” Doris flashed a smile, up for the challenge. “On occasion.” “Great.” “Let me show you the other design. Then we’ll talk strategy.” From her portfolio, she pulled a second drawing. “This one is more in line with the rest of the house. Your grandmother leaned toward Craftsman, so I used more wood tones in the furniture, and went a little heavier with the color —” “While I love it, especially the f-first, I think I need t-to go in a different direction with this

room,” I interjected. “I need it t-to be male. Something Carter’s not afraid t-to sleep in. Maybe a textured accent wall in a darker color, while keeping the bedding minimalist. A leather chair; age married with modernization. Maybe some stainless accents.” “I think I can handle that.” “How soon?” “How often do I have you at my disposal?” “Every waking moment.” Doris laughed, placed her drawings back into her portfolio. “I’ll send some options for the accent wall tonight. That’ll be our largest time constraint.” “I’m willing t-to sacrifice perfection f-for ttime.” “Oh, honey, I’m not.” “Money then,” I amended. “I’ll pay whatever it t-takes t-to get it done as quickly as possible.” “Magic to my ears,” Doris chimed. “I’ll be in touch.” We passed Carter on the way out. He was holding a bottle of Perrier. “Are you finished already? That was quick.”

“I have work to do. Your wife wants her room, post haste.” “She’s not my—we’re not,” Cater flubbed, tripping over his words. Glancing at me, he realized his gaffe. His color sapped, turned sallow. “Thank you, Doris,” I said, before we made a spectacle. “I’ll keep my phone close.” Doris tore her eyes from Carter, her expression one of pity. “Congratulations on the baby, Mattie. I’m glad that you’re recovering well.” “Thank you.” I closed the door behind her, pausing a moment until I was sure I wouldn’t say anything rash. “So, which did you decide on?” Carter asked. “Neither.” “Why? They both looked fine to me.” “You’re not the one sleeping in it.” Whoops. So I slipped. He wasn’t the only one that could mask his grievances with wit. Stepping around him, I headed for the stairs. “Are you mad at me?” Carter asked. “Is this because of the wife thing?” “It’s my bed. I decide when you get t-to sleep in my bed.”

“She’s mad,” he said to himself, and then raised his voice. “I didn’t mean anything by it, you know.” Not consciously, no. Yet, it revealed so much.

Chapter 18 I

“ ’m f-fine. Really. I just need a minute.” I sat, preparing for battle, in the chair at Sevan Matisse Salon with Em, Coop, and Paisley. Actually, I was having a mental breakdown. I hadn’t expected to get emotional over cutting off what was left of my hair. It was short, shaved, and asymmetrical. Keyword: short. I’d never had short hair in my life. I didn’t know what to do with it. It was so…short. “You look fantastic,” Coop assured. “Very trendy.” “I look t-twelve.” “Most women would pay thousands to say that,” Em stated with a shrug. She looked up from her freshly polished nails to find me staring at her. “Just saying.” “I don't need t-to look younger; I need t-to look sexy.” “You're so angry.” “It's sexual frustration,” I clarified. Paisley giggled, trying to hide it with her hand. “I'm sorry. It's just so funny that Carter

Strickland isn't putting out. I mean, Carter. Who would've thought?” “Me. It t-took everything I had t-to make him cave the last t-time. Not that he t-truly caved. I was such an emotional mess that I think he was afraid t-to say no.” With a huff, I dropped my head against the back of the seat. “Actually he did say no. Several t-times. Jesus, that's so depressing. It was either a pity f-fuck or I raped him.” “You didn't rape him,” Em scoffed. “He might have morals, but he's no saint.” “I don’t know why I’m bothering.” Sitting up again, I looked them each in the eye. “Do you know what it’s like t-to love someone so utterly, while they t-treat you like a pariah?” “Yeah,” Em quipped. “Every time that little brat of Coop’s turns his nose up at me.” She drowned her frustration with a healthy gulp of mimosa. “I love that kid. I swear it, and he absolutely hates me...” Well if she didn’t steal my pity party. “He doesn’t hate you,” Coop promised. “He knows that you spoil him more when he plays hard to get.” “Maybe that’s what Carter’s doing,” Paisley suggested. “Girls aren’t the only ones that like to be chased.”

“Women throw themselves at him left and right,” I complained. “Why can’t he do the chasing just this once?” “Cause he’s too much of a stunod,” Em explained. “Besides, you're a twenty first century girl. If you want something, pull up your big girl panties and take it.” “That's empowering.” “What can I say—I’m the next Maya Angelou.” “How many mimosas have you had?” “Not enough.” Tipping her head back, she emptied her glass. “Not nearly enough.” Placing her glass on the table, she rose from her chair and headed for the bathroom. The three of us watched with consternation as she shuffled away in her paper sandals. “Is she ok?” I asked. “She’ll bounce back,” Coop replied. “She always does.” “I can’t imagine how difficult it must be,” I empathized. “Wanting children so badly, and unable to have them.” “I’d donate my uterus if I could,” Paisley voiced. “God knows, I don’t need it.” “Don’t you have to be a physical match?”

Cooper asked. “Wouldn’t it just be easier if you carried it for her—like a surrogate? You always said you didn’t have anything against pregnancy—just raising kids.” “Are we really talking about this?” “Hypothetically.” Her level of interest said otherwise. “I’d have to give it some thought. A lot of thought. There could be health complications. And that’s if there were no legal setbacks. There’re laws. Guidelines to follow.” “But you could do it emotionally? You wouldn't have a problem giving it up after carrying it nine months?” “God no.” Paisley’s nose scrunched in distaste. “Bottles, diapers, spit up, mmm…no. I'll pass.” “You know there are positives to raising children too.” “Look—I’m just being judicious. I don’t want to have a kid on a whim and then never pay attention to it because I’m too absorbed in myself.” Coop snorted and rolled her eyes. “The only thing you’re absorbed in is Jake, and what kind of spanky panky you can get into!” “I’m not ashamed.”

From the restroom, Em came shuffling back out, her paper flip flops scuffing against the floor. She glanced from Coop to Paisley to me. “Quit talking about me. I’m fine.” “Who said we were talking about you?” “No one had to. You all look like the cat got your tongue.” “We were trying to decide which of us was going to take a turkey baster for you,” Coop admitted. “So, which of you is it?” “Paisley. Why should she be the only one unscathed?” “I have scars,” Paisley argued. “We’re not talking about the handprints Jake leaves on your ass,” Coop replied. “We’re talking about a genuine act of selflessness. The ultimate sacrifice. True battle scars.” Paisley frowned. “I thought this was hypothetical.” “Relax, Paisley,” Em tsked. “I would never ask that of you.” “I’d do it,” I said. Everyone turned and looked at me. “I wouldn’t do it f-for anybody, but I’d do it f-for a f-friend. I don’t think I could handle not knowing if it went t-to a good home or if it was

happy.” “Attention whore.” Paisley shot me an impetuous scowl. “Don’t be such a drag,” Em scoffed. “We all know that your view on children bears the likes of Joan Crawford.” “Fuck you.” Nonplussed, Paisley flipped her the bird. “I was going to give you my uterus, but now I’m going to keep it for myself.” “Mattie has a better uterus. It’s surrounded by love and kindness.” The corners of Paisley’s lips curled up in a nefarious grin. “Mattie will have to abstain for the better part of a month during transfer.” “Mattie might be concerned if she was getting any t-t-to begin with,” I countered, but sticking my tongue out at her. “Attention whore,” Paisley repeated. “She has to get it somewhere,” Cooper excused. “She’s obviously not getting it at home.” “I get plenty of attention,” I amended. “I’d think he was possessive or controlling if I didn’t know him so well. If I want something t-to eat, he runs out t-to pick it up. If I need something f-for Iain, he runs out t-to pick it up. If I need anything at all, he runs out t-to pick it up.”

“He’s making up for lost time,” Cooper excused. “Tate’s the same way. He’s the doting daddy. He wants to take care of his ladies.” “It’s not that,” I insisted. “I went f-for a jog. He had Matt and Taylor there. I wanted t-to see my gram. He had Matt and Taylor there. I could’ve driven myself t-today. Matt and Taylor are outside waiting f-for me. It’s like he doesn’t want me t-to leave the house.” Em choked on her mimosa. She wiped at dribble of orange juice from her chin. “I’m fine! I’m ok!” “You’re cut off,” Cooper warned. “Not one more.” “That’s not fair,” Em objected. “I don’t like to drink around Shane. That leaves me to drink with you guys.” “Shane doesn’t care if you drink,” Coop advised. “In fact, he told me himself. He thinks you’re more relaxed when you have a glass of wine in your hand.” “That’s cause he usually gets some,” Em replied. “And I’m not talking about wine. He calls me his new drug.” She laughed into her flute glass, then tipped her head back and emptied it. “Back to the matter at hand,” Coop said, rolling her eyes. She sipped at her own glass,

watching me over the rim. “You were almost killed, Mattie. We don’t know who this guy is or why he did it. I’d say Carter has a reason to be protective.” “He’s in prison.” It was a weak argument at best. “You should try living with Jake after being drugged by a porn star that can’t take no for an answer,” Paisley complained. “You want to talk about overprotective.” “I have lived with Jake.” If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be in this situation. He’d effectively cock blocked Carter and me, and we already had a kid together. Talk about whacked. “True,” Paisley agreed. “Though, Jake took a step back. He doesn’t like it, but he wants you to be happy.” “What does that have to do with anything?” “You just said he was standing between you and Carter.” Pinching the bridge of my nose, I shook my head. I hadn’t realized I’d said the latter aloud. “I really am losing it. Losing it? I’ve lost it. T-Truly lost it. You know you have when you start having conversations in your head out loud.” “It’s called stress,” Paisley said. “You’ve just come out of a coma to face motherhood, aka

sleep deprivation.” “It’s not sleep deprivation,” I corrected. “It’s sex deprivation.” Despite Coop’s admonition, Em filled another mimosa. She sat forward in her chair, rolling the glass in her hand. “Are you going to do something about it, or are you going to continue with your woe is me routine?” “I’m here, aren’t I?” I replied dryly. I couldn’t find it in me to feel sorry for myself, not after discussing Em’s issues. With a little elbow grease, mine could be solved. Hers, not so much. “You know what would really help?” Em cocked her head in question. “If someone t-took Iain f-for the night.” “Me?” Her hand clapped against her chest in surprise. “Coop has her hands full and Paisley hates babies.” “I. Don’t. Hate. Babies!” Paisley exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. “Fine, then you babysit,” I amended. “I bet Uncle Jake will be so excited t-to watch Iain while I romp n’ roll with his daddy. Carter. Jake’s most ffavored, lifelong f-friend.” Paisley’s face puckered. Her hands fell back

to her sides. “You know, maybe you’re right. Em should do it. Since you’re going to be womb mates and all.” “Em should do it because she’s generous and good,” Em preened. “Em’s going to spoil him to death,” Coop seconded. “Em better toss that last mimosa or she’s going to be too sloshed to hold her head up straight for wittle Iain’s two a.m. feeding, let alone his four or six,” Paisley scoffed. “And he’s going to be especially pissed when he realizes your guns aren’t loaded.” “Wish bad on me all you want, puttana. I’ll be in my element.” Full of piss and vinegar, and even more champagne, Em pulled her wallet from her purse and stood from her chair. “Come on, amiche, let’s go find Matilda the Hun some new battle armor.” As she walked off, we all broke down into giggles. The hem of her skirt was stuck beneath the waistline. “Should one of us t-tell her?” I asked. Lifting her phone, Coop snapped a picture. Her fingers moved over the screen. A smile spread across her face. A second later, Em gasped with indignity. She yanked her skirt, pulling the hem from her waistband.

♪♫♪♫ “This one,” said Em. She held up a sheer lavender baby doll. It was pretty, but not what I was looking for at all. “It would look beautiful against your hair and skin.” “It’s pastel,” I declined. “I’m staying away f-f-from pastels. They scream chaste. I don’t want t-to look any younger. I want t-to look sexy and mature.” “You want sexy…?” I turned to look at Paisley, who was holding up a black strappy number that would’ve went well with a whip and ball gag. “Um, no. I said sexy, not slutty.” “Boo on you. Bitch.” “We’re here for Mattie,” Coop chided. “Not to support Jake’s spanky panky.” “I like Jake’s spanky panky.” “Obviously.” Shaking my head, I tapped out. “I don’t even want to know.” Jake’s sex life was the last thing I wanted to discuss. Just nasty. Paging through a rack of bustiers, I was pretty sure I didn’t want lingerie at all. I wanted an old tee and a pair of bikinis. I was planning to cook dinner, seduce him. Cooking in thigh highs and

crotchless underwear didn’t seem natural. I was going to look like a desperate loser. I was a desperate loser, but I didn’t have to look the part. “Tell me about it,” Paisley agreed. “Peter has verbal flatulence when it comes to sex. Everything that comes out of his mouth is disgusting.” “He reminds me of Carter, actually. If things don’t work out tonight, maybe Paisley can fix you up with him.” Coop looked up when she felt the weight of my stare. “Just saying, it’s always good to have a backup plan.” My frown deepened. I had a backup plan. He died. “I’m not going to fail.” It wasn’t an option. If things didn’t work out with Carter, I was swearing off men entirely. I felt as though I was earning my moniker. Matilda the Hun. “How about this?” Coop slipped a hanger from the rack and held up a lace romper in sage. She looked almost heartbroken when I shook my head. “You should get it f-for yourself,” I told her. Redheads always rocked green. Coop was a strawberry blonde, so the paler green made her look statuesque. “It complements your hair.” She turned it around, looked it up and

down. “I would, but my stomach looks like a cantaloupe. My stretchmarks have gone forth and multiplied. I think they had children. And grandchildren.” “I told you it’ll take time before the elasticity returns.” Paisley scoffed. “You look great considering you just spit out a set of twins.” “Thanks to my compression underwear.” Staking me with her gaze, she raised the romper again, gave it a shake. “Are you sure you won’t buy it in memory of Coop’s belated figure?” “Sorry,” I declined. “It’s not me.” Coop looked longingly at the garment and placed it back on the rack. “It’ll see more action on someone else.” “Oh, come on,” Em scoffed. “Your sex life’s hardly over.” “It is for now,” Coop advised. “Tate made the mistake of using my stomach for a puppet and making my belly button talk.” Em tried to bite back a laugh and failed miserably. “He did not.” “He did,” Coop replied. “And then went on to comment that it reminded him of his great Grandpa.” Her frown wavered, turning transitorily into a smile. Em, Paisley, and I couldn’t restrain our

amusement. “I was mad for a minute or two…” “You let him off the hook.” “Of course not. I wanted to. Don’t get me wrong. I have twins. I have to seize the moment when it’s available. Unlucky for him, I was mortified. Completely mortified. And then I stood in the bathroom—in front of that huge wall length mirror—and cried for about ten minutes until he begged me to come out.” “And then you let him off the hook.” “Not entirely,” Coop admitted. “Make up sex is so much better after a few days of pouting.” “Isn’t it?” Paisley enthused. “It’s just effing amazing. I think I’ll pick a fight with Jake tonight.” “Why wait?” Em suggested. “Text him now.” “What should I tell him?” “You’re trying on lingerie and Marshall’s— unwittingly—your male study for reaction. Marshall really likes the nude, lacy thong.” “That’s perfect!” “Why Marshall?” I inquired. It seemed pretty malicious to throw the guy under the bus. I knew Jake’s temper. “Fists bounce off Marshall. He's a human

reflex hammer.” Paisley wandered off, ambling back toward the leather garments, while tapping gently at the screen of her phone. “He’s corrupted her,” Em observed. “It’s official.” “They’re great together,” Coop added. “They disagree just enough to keep things exciting.” “I can’t believe Jake’s engaged. That’s all the guys t-talked about growing up. Music and girls. It’s perplexing that he’s settling on just one.” “He’s not settling on anything,” Em voiced. “Coop’s right. Paisley’s perfect for him.” “I didn’t mean it like that. I like Paisley. It’s Jake I can’t stand.” It didn’t matter that he’d taken a step back. The damage was already done. “He has Carter effectively brainwashed.” “So, what’s your plan of attack?” “Dinner. I need to make sure he’s f-fed. He’s irritable when he’s hungry. I’ll f-further that with a f-few drinks to loosen him up.” “What’re you cooking?” Em inquired. This earned a moan from Coop. “Oh, marone,” Coop moaned, mocking Em.

“Shut up,” Em retorted. “You have babies. I have dogs and cooking.” “Does what I serve really matter?” I objected. We were talking about Carter here. “He eats like a goat.” “True.” “Besides,” I continued, “this isn’t really about the f-food.” “Like you said, a full belly warms the heart.” “Well,” I said, eyeing up a two-piece short set that caught my eye, “If you must know, I was planning on serving oysters as the main course and green M&Ms f-for dessert. Unless, you know something better.” “Actually,” Em conspired, “I found one of Shane’s stashes that he forgot about. Among the uppers, downers, and all-arounders, there was one conspicuous little blue pill.” “No!” I felt my jaw drop open. “Why would he have that?” “Drinking and other forms of substance abuse can.” Em pointed her finger into the air, and curled it downward. “Ew!” “He doesn’t need it anymore,” Em

countered. She smirked, every bit of smug. “I’m the only drug he needs now.” “So you think I should slip Carter a Viagra in his drink?” “No.” Em shook her head. “I’m kidding. That would be illegal and immoral. Whichever weighs more heavily on your conscience.” “I wasn’t actually considering it,” I agreed. “If I have t-to resort t-to drugging him, I’m not interested. I do have some pride.” Grabbing the short set from the rack, I flipped it back and forth, perusing over the cut and quality of the knit. It was an ecru crocheted lace crop top with floral short trimmed in matching lace. “It’s perfect,” Coop appraised. “It’s sexy while casual.” “I’m getting it.” “Good thing it’s not my color,” Em added. “I’d get one too.” She lifted a red bustier she was holding, eyeing the piece for size. “I think I’m going to try this on. I could use it for that dress I just bought.” Turning, she headed for the dressing rooms. “You’re going to drive him crazy in that,” Coop stated. “It leaves just enough to the imagination.”

“That’s reassuring and unsettling at the same time.” “How so?” “I don’t want him t-to have t-too much time t-to think.” Coop glanced up, looking over my shoulder. “Oh my God—is that Jake?” I whirled. Sure enough, Jake was striding through the store, weaving his way through the garment racks on his way toward the dressing rooms. He smiled and saluted us, not sparing a glance in our direction. At the same time, Paisley stepped out of the dressing room. She spotted Jake. Squealed. Bolted back into the cubicle. Jake darted between the racks in pursuit. “How’d he get here so f-fast?” I wondered. “She just texted him.” “We were in the neighborhood,” said Shane from behind me. We turned to face him as he approached. “Where’s Em?” “In the dressing room.” “Good.” Reaching down, he extracted something from his pocket. He held out his hand. Pinched between his fingers, he held a small velvet box. There was a ring nestled inside. Coop and I gasped at the same time. He was quick to shush us.

“Think she’ll like it? Is it her?” “It’s big and sparkly,” Coop said in assent. “She’s going to love it.” Snapping the box closed, he crammed it back into his pocket. Wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. I still couldn’t get over the changes in his appearance. He looked healthy. Glowing. Fuck if I wasn’t jealous. He was in love. Shane Fucking Richardson had found his one. The little green beast pulled at my strings. I was quick to untangle him, and gave his hand a slap for good measure. I was happy for Shane. Someone had looked past the drugs and alcohol and finally recognized what a great guy he truly was. No one deserved it more. “When are you going to ask?” Coop inquired. “When I grow the balls.” He laughed nervously. “I figured if I had the ring, I’d just have to pop the question.” “You should do it at the picnic. Everyone will be there.” “In front of everyone?” Shane looked aghast. “You play the drum in front of thousands, Dorkis.” “Do you really think she’ll say yes?”

“Shane,” said Coop in reprimand. “She catches sight of that thing and there’s no way she’d say no. We’ll just have to make sure Carter doesn’t toss her in the pool afterward. She’ll sink straight to the bottom.” Uncertainty skimmed across his features. He pulled the ring back out of his pocket. “It’s not too big, is it?” “A diamond is never too big. But you better put it away. The light is reflecting off it like a disco ball.” As if just remembering my presence, Shane glanced at me. “You’re coming to the picnic, right, Matt?” Tate had a big shindig every year. The whole gang and then some had a cookout and swam in the pool. They normally did it for July the fourth. You could see the fireworks from the deck in Tate’s yard. We had a perfect view of the water where they launched them from the boats. “I think that’s up t-to Carter,” I hedged. I wasn’t sure he felt like socializing quite yet. I think he was still lying low. “Fuck Carter. Tell him to quit being a pussy. If he won’t come, you should come without him. Emelia can’t wait to get her hands on your kid.” “I wouldn’t miss it f-for the world.”

Shane glanced up. The light caught his eyes. Actually, Em did. “Here she comes,” he warned. As if we’d slip and say something. Christ, I’d gone eight months without slipping and spilling the beans. I was a pro at keeping secrets. Em wound through the racks of clothing at a quick clip, her eyes wide. “Marone, I think we should wait for them outside.” “Seriously?” Coop giggled. Though she tried to stifle it with the palm of her hand, she failed miserably. The sound was melodious. Enchanting. Just like everything about her. “Seriously,” Em confirmed. A loud feminine yelp sounded from the dressing rooms. Followed by a drawn out moan. And then Jake’s distinct chuckle. “If I had any idea that they’d…” She motioned toward the cubicles at the back of the store. “I wouldn’t have encouraged her.” “I’m out of here.” I headed for the exit. The last thing I wanted to hear was Jake doing the ugly. Unfortunately, I forgot to put down my purchase before walking out the door, and inadvertently setting off the alarms.

Chapter 19 Giving the sauté pan one last shake, I lifted it off the stove and slid it into the oven to keep warm while I cooked the pasta. Everything was going smoothly. The water was coming to a rolling boil. More importantly, Carter was pulling up the driveway. Checking my clothes for splatters and stains, I grabbed the box of linguine and measured two small handfuls. Then threw a third in the pot, remembering Carter’s appetite. I was just easing the noodles under the water as he walked through the door. There’s a common trope about the air being sucked out of the room when in the presence of ‘the one.’ Pronounced thee. I don’t know about the lack of air, but I can tell you the room grew about twenty degrees warmer. Despite my attempt to play it cool, a flush drew across my cheeks. “Are you cooking, Angel?” “Laundry,” I replied. “The water heater went and I need hot water.” “Haha.” Coming over, he peered over my shoulder, into the pot of water. “Pasta. What’s in

the oven?” “Chicken Marsala.” “I didn’t know you could cook.” “Neither did I.” “Did you do this for me?” “T-t-two thirds of it.” “And this?” His fingers traced the hem of my shirt, brushed the small of my back. Aaaannnndddd there went all the oxygen in the room. I glanced at the burner to see if I accidentally raised the flame. The temperature in the room rose another few degrees. “Is this for me?” “Tonight.” “Only tonight?” “Tomorrow, you’ll have t-to vie with Iain ffor my attention.” “Someone has Iain for the night.” The playfulness in his voice was gone, replaced with blatant concern. “Em has him.” Tapping the wooden spoon on against the edge of the pot, I sat it on the counter. Then, turned to face him. “Is that a problem?” “No!” he backtracked. “No. I just…it feels like I’m missing a limb.”

I smiled, and then quickly reigned it in. “I’m sorry. Was that supposed t-to be f-funny?” “I hadn’t meant it as a joke, but I’m naturally witty.” “And naturally immodest.” “I’ll tell you a confession, Angel. My confidence—it’s all a ruse.” Leaning closer, he pressed a kiss to the corner of my jaw. “I like the haircut.” My hand drew to my nape, fingering the stubble. “It’s not t-too short?” “You could be bald and you’d still look amazing.” Stepping away from me, he panned over the kitchen table. My hope diminished of him ruining dinner and fast-forwarding straight to sex. “Can I help with anything?” he asked. “Maybe set the table?” “The t-table’s set. We’re eating in the dining room.” Carter’s eyebrow cocked in question. “Fancy plates and everything?” “Gram always said that dining rooms were made f-for intimate dinners and f-family holidays. That and I think Jake had sex with Paisley on the kitchen t-table. I might drag it out into the yard ttomorrow and set it on f-fire.”

Disconcerted, Carter stared at the offending table. “For real?” “Apparently.” “How did this all come out?” “The girls had a f-few drinks. They wanted t-to know about Iain’s conception. When I was reluctant t-to give the details, they decided t-to exhort the information by plying me with stories of their own sexual depreciations.” “That wasn’t Jake and Violet’s first.” I was aware of that. Em had started to say the same when Paisley cut her off. She clearly didn’t want me to know the sordid details about Jake’s fuckpad above his club. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t need t-to know any more about Jake’s perverted sex life than I’ve already witnessed. As of now—” “Witnessed?” Carter inquired. “What did you witness?” “I’ll t-tell you about it when we sit down.” I gestured to the pot of pasta. “Why don’t you drain that while I plate up the chicken?” A few minutes later, we were sitting at the table, ensconced in the warm glow of candlelight. Carter reached, lifted my plate, and began filling it with copious amounts of pasta.

“Enough!” I exclaimed. “My god, I’ll never eat all of that!” I could. Easily. But I wasn’t going to ruin a good round of sex by placing myself in a carb coma. I wouldn’t feel like moving. Which sucked royally because I loved carbs. “Relax, you know I ain’t gonna let it go to waste.” He placed my plate back in front of me and began filling his own. “So, what exactly did you witness today? I thought you were going shopping.” “We did. After going t-to the salon. We were shopping when Paisley started picking a ffight with Jake so they could have make-up sex. Apparently, they like it rough.” “That’s the least of it.” I raised my hand, beseeching his pause. “Stop there. I don’t need t-to know any more. It’s bad enough that I know what I know.” “Angel,” Carter said, losing his patience. “Jake showed up at the store. He and Paisley started getting it on in the dressing room. It was so disgusting. They weren’t even quiet about it. Shut up! It’s not funny!” “I’m sorry.” He wasn’t. He was hiding his amusement behind a mouthful of pasta and chicken. “It’s not. I was mortified. When I ran out of

the store, I still had stuff in my hands and I set off the alarms. The store manager f-freaked out and called the police. I thought I was going to get arrested.” “For what?” “Shoplifting, obviously.” “If anything, they would’ve arrested Jake and Violet for lewd or indecent behavior.” “Apparently she thought they were causing a distraction so I could score some new threads at a f-five f-finger discount.” “So, what’d you end up telling the police?” “It was a prank. They were trying to embarrass me.” “They fell for that?” “Of course not. Jake offered them tickets to Portage.” It was a huge end of the summer bash, a festival of bands. Hautboy hosted it every year. They anchored a barge out in the bay in place of a stage. People lined the waterline by beach or boat. From Friday evening through Sunday afternoon, it was nonstop music, watersports, and general partying. Tickets normally sold out within minutes of going on sale, so scoring a few from the band themselves was a big deal. Even if they didn’t use them, they could sell them at a decent profit.

Carter stabbed at his chicken, falling uncharacteristically silent. It was a testament that I’d struck a nerve. “What did Tate have t-to say?” I asked. Perhaps he’d provided a little insight as to the band’s fate. “We’re not playing at Portage this year.” And there it was. The beginning of the end. “It’s not what you think,” Carter clarified. “He just had twins. Your brother’s getting married in November. There’s a shit ton going on in our own personal lives right now. We all need a break.” It wasn’t like he was going to point his finger at me and place blame. He was being a gentleman and assuming guilt. “Is that what Tate t-told you?” “It’s the truth.” “You don’t have t-to lie on my behalf. I’m an adult.” “I know exactly what you are, Angel.” A bit of a smile returned to his tone. “I wasn’t going to say anything because I knew you’d blame yourself.” “Rightfully.” “I think we’ve gotten as close to a blessing as Jake will ever give us,” Carter voiced. “As long as I’m not dicking you around, I think we can pull

this off.” If it weren’t for the band, I’d say fuck Jake. As it stood, I pushed the food around my plate. My nerves were already on edge. The conversation quashed what appetite I had left. “You going to finish that?” Carter pointed his fork at my plate. Shaking my head, I pushed it toward him. He slid his plate aside and started to work on my meal. “This is good, Angel. Really good.” “Thanks.” I wanted to be the highlight of his evening. Not my cooking. In an attempt to drown my annoyance, I poured another glass of wine. “Should you be drinking that?” “I pumped earlier. Besides, Em has Iain ffor the night.” Carter’s fork stopped halfway to his mouth. “Why do I feel like this whole day was less an outing and more of a strategy meeting?” “Because you’re naturally clever.” And incredibly dense at the same time. Most men would’ve said the hell with dinner, wiped the table clear of its contents, and fucked me on the thing. Against it. Under it. You get the point. He actually thought this was about the food.

Rising from my chair, I lifted the platters and headed for the kitchen to pack up the leftovers. Carter’s priorities obviously lay with his stomach. Perhaps I should’ve stuck with the oysters and green M&M’s. Even if they’d gone to waste, he would’ve gotten the hint. “Are you mad at me?” Carter asked, trailing me into the kitchen. “Did I do something wrong?” “No.” I was disappointed. Incessantly disappointed, it seemed. In the middle of the night. The first light of morning. Naptime. All the fucking time. “Disappointed?” he objected. Oh shit. I froze in place. The dishes rattled in my hands. “You gotta give a guy a chance,” he chided. Taking the dishes from my hands, he placed them in the sink. “You cooked; I do the dishes. I know how shit works.” Oh. My. God. Nobody could be that clueless. No. Fucking. Body. “Jess didn’t leave me completely in the dark,” he continued. “You’d think she’d’ve taken it easy on me after losing a leg, but she always had

some mundane chore for me to do around the house, with the explanation that my wife would appreciate it someday.” I’m sure she will. Shame she wasn’t me. “I’m t-tired. I think I’ll go t-to bed.” If I stood there another moment, I might scream. Fucking dishes. I could give a flying fuck about the dishes. I wasn’t asking for world record breaking sex. Though, it was Carter, so it would be. Nonetheless, I wanted two minutes to share some kind of non-platonic affection. The smaller part of me wanted proof that he wasn’t just ‘dicking me around.’ Sue me. I wanted the lock, stock, and barrel. I wasn’t settling for less. Not even from Carter Strickland. “You forgetting something, Angel?” “What?” Right. I forgot to pack the leftovers. “If you’re not going t-to eat it, t-toss it,” I said irritably. He could choke on them for all I cared. “Damn, you’re impatient,” Carter grumbled. Grasping my arm, he jerked me around to face him, and with the same momentum, crushed his lips against mine. I growled in annoyance, but as my mind caught up to speed, it altered to pleasure. I came to the quick realization that he’d been toying

with me, the idea spawned by his shaking chest. He was laughing at me. Perturbed, I broke this kiss, biting his lip in the process. “That’s not very nice, Angel.” Lifting his hand to his lip, he dragged his finger across it, rubbing away the sting. “You’re not being very nice.” I took a step back as he stepped closer. Really, I wanted to climb him like a tree. He grinned down at me. Though, it was more of a smirk. My cheeks flushed with color. “Being nice is overrated.” I had to agree. I took another step back. Carter’s eyes flashed, smug. My ass nestled against the table. The dishes rattled. I nearly moaned. Carter placed his hands on my waist and lifted me onto the table. His hands. He had his fucking hands on me. My heart rattled in my chest as he leaned forward and reached around me. The next thing I knew the contents of the table were ricocheting against the cabinets and floor. “Oh my God.” My voice was hoarse to my own ears. It was laced with ribbons of desire and anticipation. “Did you like that?”

“Maybe a little. Ok. A lot. I liked it a lot.” “The girls texted me,” he confessed. “Said I should make it dramatic or else.” “I’ll have t-to thank them.” “Me fucking too.” He took my mouth again. Ardent, yet gentle. Testing. Exploring. As if I was the treasure he’d waited for his whole life, and not the other way around. I tugged him down with me to the table, until my back rested against the hard surface. My hands threaded into his hair, my fingers slipping through his dark curls. He was right about one thing. Once wasn’t enough. His hair was going to be a main source of my personal entertainment. Well, among other things. His body was a fucking wonderland. I planned to memorize every curve by touch. I already knew it by sight. I'd coveted him for as long as I could remember. Probably longer if I was being honest. I never thought this day would come. I was finally allowed to touch him because he was mine. Solely mine. “Those sounds you make…and those hands,” Carter croaked. “You need to slow down.” “I'd rather not,” I declined. “I'm enjoying myself.”

“I haven't barely started,” he quipped. “I’d like it to last a little longer than a few seconds.” I felt aglow. I caused that. I wanted him to lose himself over me. On me. Christ I wanted it bad. “We have all night. We can do it again. I want t-to make you come. Now.” “Jesus, Angel.” “Please.” He’d already acquiesced, because as I pushed against his chest, he gave. I rose with him, keeping my palm against him. As I dropped to my feet, I let my fingers trail downward, tracing his stomach. He jerked under my hand, his belly rising and falling in rhythm with his breaths. Undeterred, I slipped my fingers into the waist of his jeans and unfastened the button. His breathing stopped. With a quick slide of his fingers into my hair, he jerked my head back. His mouth closed over my jaw, his teeth scraping gently across my skin. Shivers ran down my body, raising goosebumps across my skin. I worked eagerly at his zipper, every fucking tooth fighting my progress. The fact that he was hard underneath my hand had me trembling with anticipation. “Come on! Damn it!” I cursed, giving it one last tug. It gave at my command. I slipped my hand eagerly beneath the band of his boxers and scored with a large handful of cock. I

moaned victoriously. Holy. Fuck. The overwhelming sense of desire was pure madness. I stroked him up and down, sliding my thumb over the head. Carter’s hips bucked in response. “Fuck! Oh my God! Your hands are so fucking soft.” Eagerly, I worked him harder. Faster. His breath puffed against my jaw, warm and demanding. No joke. I think he was being honest when he said it wouldn’t last long. Desperately, I dropped to my knees and began peeling his jeans down his ass and thighs. His cock bobbed out, thick and hard. Wetting my lips, I wasted no time and took him into my mouth, wrapping my hand around the base, while cupping his balls in the other hand. “Holy fucking Christ!” he gasped, falling forward. He caught himself in the edge of the table, his fingers curling against the wood. “Not yet! Not fucking yet!” Despite his pleas, his hips bucked, thrusting his cock to the back of my throat. “Em… G…D…Em…Asus four…Em…mmph ah!” I had him reciting chords. And failing, judging by the noises escaping him. Searching for another distraction in an attempt to delay the inevitable, he fell silent. His hips slowed. I granted him another show of mercy and released him from my mouth, sliding my lips over the head of his cock, and then tracing the underside with the tip of

my tongue. Though, I was greedy for his release. I wanted to claim his release, feel the triumph of having taken him there. “No! God no!” I glanced up, lured not by the words, but his tone. “You want me t-to stop?” “No!” he said, quickly changing his tone. “Fuck no!” Keeping my eyes on his, I tried to remedy the situation, returning to the work at hand. There was definitely something going on upstairs. His entire demeanor changed. He maintained the charade, but I had the sinking feeling it was all about to go downhill. Literally. His cock was already going soft, contrary to my efforts. “What’s wrong? What did I do?” “Nothing. You didn’t do anything.” “You were into it. What happened?” “It’s my fault.” Gingerly, he tucked himself back into his pants. The sure sign of blue balls was already affecting him. “I was just about there, but I wasn’t ready. I wanted it to last longer for fuck’s sake.” I bit back a smile, smug, but sympathetic. He was in obvious discomfort. I stepped closer, mustering what I hoped was sultry or passionate.

“There’s a cure f-for that, you know.” To my surprise, he stepped back. “You gotta give me a minute. I gotta get my head back in the game.” “Those chords worked a little t-too well.” “Wasn’t the chords. Was that table. I remember sitting around that thing, and your gram feeding us. And you had those pigtails. Those god damned fucking pigtails. That’s all I could picture. It would’ve been sexy if it was the older you, but —” “I’m not a little girl anymore.” My temper spiked, hard and fast. The teasing in my tone now gone. “I know th—” “Coop and Tate are the same age difference as us.” “I know that!” he repeated more forcefully. “But he didn’t watch her grow the fuck up! It’s not quite the same!” I stepped back at his advance, humiliation pairing up with frustration. “Don’t do that,” he pleaded. “I’m fine. I swear. You just have to give me a few minutes to recoup.” “Carter, I wouldn’t f-fuck you right now if

your cock was magical, t-ten feet long, and could incite orgasms f-from across the room.” “I don’t know about ten feet long, but I’ve been told its mag…” Prudently, he let his retort drop. I wasn’t in the mood for a battle of quips. “Go home, please.” “Angel.” “Don’t call me that!” I wasn’t his Angel. I wasn’t that little girl with the bleached blonde hair in pigtails. I was a woman who inspired thousands of hard cocks across the campus of OSU. “This is nothing,” he assured. “It’s not a big deal.” “This is t-too hard!” I exclaimed. “A relationship shouldn’t have t-to be this much work! I watch everything I say and do around you! I redecorated the bedroom so we could have a space of our own! I primped all freaking day t-t-today! I’m t-tired of trying t-to reinvent myself so you don’t think of me as Bratty Mattie!” My emotions got the best of me. My eyes brimmed with tears. “Can you please come here?” He held his arms out, looking up from under his lashes. He had no depth. He was an idiot, shallow and clueless. “No!” “Please?”

“GET OUT!” I grabbed the closest thing, a vase from the shelf beside me, and tossed it onto the floor for emphasis. He just wasn’t getting the point. He did now, his back straightening along with his expression. “What the fuck did you do that for?” “Because you’re not listening!” “Why won’t you talk to me?” “Oh my God! You’re so fffffucking dense! I don’t want t-t-t-to t-talk to you! I’m t-tired of ttalking! I want more! I don't understand! You give it out t-t-to thousands of girls across the damn country, but you can’t get it up for the one that counts!” “Wow.” He had the nerve to shake his head at me. “That was really low.” “Toying with people’s hearts is low!” “Is that what you think I'm doing?” “I really don’t care anymore. I’m t-tired. I need some space.” “I’ll sleep on the sofa then.” “Go home, Carter. Please.” “Funny, I was beginning to think this was my home.”

“F-Funny, your name’s not on the deed,” I shot back. “I wasn’t talking about the house,” he retorted. “I was talking about being with you. You're my home, Matilda. I thought we were family.” “I'm not looking f-for a f-friend, Carter. I have enough of those.” “I don't want to be your friend, Matilda. I'd prove that if you'd give me the fucking chance.” “Not tonight. You'd be doing it f-f-for all the wrong reasons.” I wanted to know that he loved me, that he desired me. That he couldn't breathe without me. Couldn't breathe when he was near me for fuck’s sake. The only thing he wanted to prove was that he wasn't impotent. “You want me to leave.” Fighting back tears, I nodded. Carter’s frown deepened, the corners of his mouth turning down in anger. “Fine, but remember I'm not the one walking away tonight. You kicked me the fuck out.” As he slammed the door behind him, I tossed another vase. It was the last word, in a sense, a show that I wasn’t broken. It was a lie, of course. Inside, I was shattered, my heart, my soul, the strength of my being, lying among the glass shards on the floor of Gram’s kitchen.

Chapter 20 Donning my best sport bra, tank, and leggings, I stepped through the back door. Matthew was waiting in the truck as usual, perched behind the wheel. Upon my emergence, the door to the cab opened. He slid out and stretched. The first was to get the blood flowing after hours of sitting. The second was to loosen his muscles in preparation to run. “Carter’s not here,” I pointed out. “What’re you still doing here?” “You weren’t cleared to drive yet.” “I can call an Uber if I need t-to go anywhere.” I planned to go places. I had a visit to make. It had already been too long. I didn’t want to put it off any longer. “I don’t mind.” “Look, I don’t mean t-to be rude, but I’d like t-to be alone.” Matthew smiled stoically, still stretching his calves. “We both need to burn off some energy. You won’t even know I’m there.” “Did—” I was going to kill him. “Did

Carter put you up t-to this?” “Jake too. They’re in agreement on one thing.” “This is ridiculous!” I argued. “I’ve been home f-f-for weeks!” My stutter exacerbated. I winced and recoiled at the lingering brain damage caused by the accident. It struck out at me in disagreement over my claim of perfect health. “You should stretch. Don’t want to pull a hamstring.” Instead, I harrumphed and stalked off, power-walking up the driveway. Stones skittered in every direction, across the lawn in particular. I managed to lift my feet, fueled by the knowledge that those stones would somehow make their way through my windows when the grass was trimmed in a few days. It was a loss I couldn’t afford. Gram’s windows weren’t modern, but fashioned with antique plate glass that had distortions and irregularities that were not only expensive, but irreplaceable, unlike the cheap vases I shattered in the kitchen the night before. Before I knew it, my feet were pounding the concrete sidewalk as if I could sweat last night’s debacle from my memory. I’ve never been so humiliated. It didn’t get much worse than having a man’s cock go soft in your mouth. The man I

mooned over since I was in pigtails and seersucker dresses. Not for the first time, I felt desperate and ashamed that I’d pushed myself on him, trapped him into a relationship and a future he never wanted. I hated him. I loved him. The farce had to end. I couldn't keep playing house, pretending to be something we weren't. While a large part of me basked in his attention, my conscience knew it was wrong. We both deserved the real thing. True love. Call me greedy, but I wanted all of him. I didn’t want merely a partner. I wanted a lover. I wanted passion. I wanted to be desired for Christ’s sake. It was an essential factor of any relationship. The deciding factor. If he wasn’t attracted to me, what else did I have? Lies? Infidelity? I couldn’t bear it, not when I wanted to be the sole focus of his attention. It was all I ever wanted. I wouldn’t ruin what relationship we could salvage by trapping him further. I had to end things now while we could still remain friends. By the time I approached the house, I'd worked up a decent sweat and burned most of the residual anger from my system. My legs felt satisfyingly rubbery, and my mind strangely at ease.

I didn't know what the future would bring for the band, but as far as Carter and I were concerned, we were through. I held no animosity toward him, not anymore. He hadn't been anything but a victim of my grand delusions. I had only myself to blame. I shouldn’t have thrown myself at him that morning at the airport. It was deplorable. An act of desperation. Now if I could only get my heart to heal at my command. As I rounded the house, despite my resolve, I was looking for Carter’s car. Better yet, Carter himself. Cutting myself off from him wasn’t going to be easy. In fact, it was going to suck royally. I had been addicted to him the better part of my life, and was going to suffer some serious withdrawal. To my disappointment, the driveway sat empty. I was granted a temporary reprieve from self-torture. You’d think I’d grow accustomed to disappointment, but even now, years later, the hopelessness of my situation clogged my throat. I didn’t want to put an end to it, but better now than later when things went south, and we could no longer bear to look at one another, let alone raise a child with the civility of two decent human beings. I jogged up the steps, and held the door for Matthew. “You can use the bathroom upstairs if you want t-to shower.”

Matthew nodded, jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “I appreciate that. I’m going to grab a change of clothes from the truck.” I stepped into the house and headed for the bedroom. Pulling Carter’s duffel from the closet, I began collecting his things from where they lay strew about the bed and floor. He was a slob. No way around it. From the boxer briefs draped over the footboard to the dribble of piss on the rim of the toilet. But as I picked up a t-shirt stained with baby puke, I realized he had his virtues too. While he couldn’t feed Iain himself, he insisted on rising to get him for me at night. I don’t know. Maybe I was romanticizing it. He likely figured the sooner Iain was fed, the sooner he could get back to sleep. I tossed his shirt into the bag with the other things. In the bathroom, I evicted his toiletries from the sink, and picked through the hamper. Clean, dirty, it ceased to matter when going into the bag. He could sort it out at his place. He wasn’t mine to look after. I was sucker enough to want him in my bed, but the hell if I was going to be his maid. I might’ve wanted to fawn over him at one time. I’d wanted to raise his children on the road. It was the whole point of my college career, so that I could home school them and know they were receiving a proper education. But that dream, too,

was shattered. In case Carter made it to my house before I showered, I sat the bag outside the back door. It was a simple enough way of getting the point across. Matthew said nothing as he came up the porch, but he eyed the bag. “I don’t want t-to discuss it,” I said, heading him off. He raised his hands in submission. “I’m not here, remember?” “There’re t-towels in the bathroom closet.” “I’ll be finished and gone before you bat an eye.” He winked in attempt to lighten the conversation. “What’s the point of you being here?” I objected. “If I f-fall and break my neck in the shower, how’re you going t-to know if you’re sitting outside?” “After that jog, I don’t suspect that you really need medical supervision,” Matthew deflected. “I’ve got the feeling I’m here for everyone else’s peace of mind.” “I don’t need a babysitter.” “But you do need a driver,” he reminded me. Ignoring my scowl, he trotted up the stairs and into the bathroom, leaving me bristling behind. Carter’s bag was gone when I emerged from

the house an hour later. Matthew was still here. Trying not to show my annoyance, I descended the porch steps and climbed into the passenger seat. “Where to?” Matthew asked. “Em’s place. Is the bag in the back?” Matthew shifted the truck into drive and coasted down the driveway, taking it slow so that he didn’t disturb the gravel. “If Carter came to get it, do you think he would’ve left quietly?” “True.” Carter was pigheaded. He’d fight to be with me, just because he had his mind set on it. The underlying emotion didn’t matter. Once his mind was set, he was unfaltering. “You sure you don’t want to see Carter first?” Matthew asked a few minutes later. We were just pulling onto the main road. We could head east or west, still had time to decide. “Like I want a t-tooth pulled.” “You want to talk about it?” “Did Carter?” “No.” I made a noise of contempt in the back of my throat. “No surprise there.” “You’re like a little sister to me, Mattie. If you ever want to talk, the invitations always open.”

Little sister. I could feel my last thread of control snap. My blood pressure skyrocketed. Angry tears sprang to my eyes. “Pull over.” “Right here?” “PULL OVER!” My level of volume brooked no argument. Though, it could’ve been the sudden onslaught of tears. Or the spittle that flew from my mouth. Matthew immediately pulled over. I jumped from the truck, spewing a tirade of indecencies that would’ve made my mother roll in her grave, and my gram to wet herself laughing. When my anger still didn’t wane, I jerked the doors of the truck open until I discovered Carter’s black duffel. I yanked it from the back, dragged it down to the waterfront, and tossed it into Puget’s Sound. Then, I cursed the bag and its owner to hell and back for good measure. Not a quarter hour later, I was settled back into the passenger seat, while Matthew lugged Carter’s black bag back up to the truck, both he and it dripping wet. He dared not look at me as he climbed into the driver’s seat and shifted the truck into drive. “Em’s house it is.” For just a brief moment, I thought Matthew had called ahead and warned them of my breakdown, but as Shane opened the door looking

half unhinged, and I heard Em’s shouting, Iain’s wails, and their dogs nearly barreled me over, I knew that wasn’t the case. “Close the door!” Em shouted, in pursuit. “Don’t let them out!” I merely pointed my finger and used The Voice, as the girls at the daycare center called it. The Voice was conserved for rainy days when the children were losing their shit after being cooped up all day. It stopped them dead in their tracks. It provoked silence across the room. One of the two dropped its head and opened its mouth. Something small and brown fell onto the floor. I assumed it was a stuffed toy until it moved. No, it was my dog. “Oh my God! Brutus!” “I’m so sorry!” Em apologized, bouncing a screaming Iain in her arms. Her face was red, her hair ruffled. “I turned around for one second and…” “Your s-stupid dogs ate my dog!” “I’m sorry!” “What if that was the baby, Em?” I snapped. My anger got the best of me. I was having a terribly crappy day. “Whoa,” Shane interceded. “They wouldn’t hurt the baby, Mattie. There’s no reason to go

there.” “Really?” I retorted. “Then why’s he screaming?” “Because he hates me!” Em rasped. “They all do!” Her chin quivering, she thrust a wailing Iain into my arms, and hastened away. I was left juggling Brutus and Iain, half dumbfounded and half mad. “Nice, Mattie,” Shane scolded. Dragging his dogs with him, he turned to follow Em. Somehow, I ended up shedding more tears over the situation. “I’ve got this one.” Taking Brutus from my hand, Matthew pointed to the truck. “Why don’t you take him to the car, get him settled down. I’ll get your things together here.” I nodded, swiping my face with the wrist of my sleeve. “Thanks.” “That’s what I’m here for.” Back at the car, I did the routine diaper check. It was dry, of course, but this didn’t console Iain in any way. So I did the next best thing. I climbed into the passenger seat and gave him my breast. After a few fitful gulps and gasps, he settled down into a complacent draw. It took only a few minutes before I started to feel like a real asshole. Unfortunately, I didn’t

have my phone on me. I must’ve left it back at the house, because it wasn’t in my pocket or my purse. By the time Iain was sated enough to sleep, Matthew was returning with my bags. “I should apologize.” “Give her some time. She had a rough night. Apparently, Iain didn’t sleep very well. She’s a little emotional right now.” “I just yelled at her.” “You had a rough night too.” “Still.” “She’s not upset with you,” he insisted. “Really. You should go home and get some rest yourself.” “I’m not going home yet. I have one more stop.” “You sure you want to do that right now? Maybe you should sleep on it. Give yourself some time to think things over.” “There’s nothing t-to think over. You can drive me there, or I can use Uber. It’s up t-to you. Either way, I’m going.” Exhaling heavily, he shifted into reverse and checked the rearview mirror. As we pulled onto the road, I bit my lip, fighting the urge to cry, and failing miserably.

None of this was what I wanted. For me or Carter. Fuck, it had all gone so wrong. He was supposed to fall in love with me. Madly and deeply in love with me. I was an idiot. A stupid idiot. Like we were destined to be together or something. How delusional could I be? I shouldn’t have ever let him back into my life. But I was so fucking weak. It only took a few ambiguous words, a kiss of desperation, and he’d had me eating out of his hands. I should’ve known. He’d never said he was in love with me. He hadn’t lied, but he’d omitted. He hadn’t done it to hurt me. He was simply following his sense of duty, but it’d hurt all the same. I felt humiliated that I’d actually thought I had something that other girls didn’t. How many times did I have to put myself through this torture before I learned? This was it. I was done. I couldn’t keep deluding myself with possibilities. The evidence was concrete. Carter didn’t think of me that way. I would always be Jake’s little sister to him. I repeated it like a mantra. Sooner or later it would sink in. “Mattie.” At the sound of Matthew’s voice, I looked up. We were parked in Carter’s driveway. I recognized the stone retaining wall, and the stairs leading down from his side entrance. “I’ll take the bag up, ok?”

“I should do it.” He deserved to hear it from me. “I’m pretty sure he’ll understand.” I snorted, which wasn’t pretty at all considering the unprecedented state of my nasal passageway. “You can’t be talking about Carter.” “Maybe not. Do you really want him to see you like this?” “No.” “Then I’ll take his bag to him.” Without another word, he slid out of the cab and retrieved the duffel from the cargo space. On top of everything else, I felt like a coward. I couldn’t even watch. Leaning my forehead against the window, I swabbed at my nose. I didn’t pretty cry. It was pure ugly. My face turned red and splotchy. My nose ran. My eyes swelled like a fucking puffer fish. Carter’s voice captured my attention. I glanced up. Matthew was holding his bag out. This thing was pissing sea water all over his landing. Carter stared at it, and then glanced down at me, his mouth inverting to a frown. He stepped forward, but Matthew pressed a hand to his chest, blocking him. They exchanged words. No shouting. What the hell was Matthew telling him? He was giving him a fucking commentary for Christ’s sake. Just

give him the damn bag! A minute later, Carter descended the stairs. I pressed the locks, securing the vehicle. He swore as he heard them engage, but tried the handle anyhow. “Angel, unlock the door.” “No.” “Please?” “I don’t want t-to t-talk to you.” “Look at me.” Gullibly, I glanced up. He flattened his palm against the window, leaned in closer to look me in the eye. “I love you.” His words gave me pause. Briefly. “You’re just saying that because Matthew t-told you what I said.” I had to be thinking aloud again. It was becoming a habit, one I seriously needed to break. “Matthew didn’t tell me anything except you tossed my clothes to the fishes.” “I don’t believe you.” “Open the door and I’ll prove it to you.” “No.” I drew a breath, though wracked with sobs. “I can’t do this anymore, Carter. It hurts t-too much.” “Angel.” “Stop calling me that!” I snapped. It came out a little louder than intended. Iain stirred in the

back seat. “Gimme the keys, Matthew.” “They’re in the ignition.” Matthew patted his pockets down anyhow. “Damn it!” Carter began punching the code into the keypad beneath the handle. As soon as I heard the telltale click, I pressed the button on the armrest. Carter looked up, his expression scathing. “Open this fucking door, right now!” “No.” I climbed into the driver’s seat as he began punching the numbers in again. This time, I only had time to punch the toggle down. “Mattie!” I shook my head. “I’m sorry. About everything.” I shifted the car into reverse and pressed my foot against the pedal. The truck rolled backwards. Carter held fast, following me out of the driveway. I turned the wheel, shifted into drive as he continued to tug on the door handle. He was still standing in the street as I pulled away. Well that went smoothly. Not at all like I had planned. Actually, I was hoping to get in and out without being seen. I had only planned on leaving the bag on his doorstep. He would get the message. Simple enough. For most, the bag would've been message

enough. For Carter, however, two vases, spelling it out in plain English, and the eviction of his clothing had yet to do the trick. But then that was Carter. He didn’t love me; he loved the fight. He was exhausting. I had to fight for his attention. Now I had to fight to be left in peace. I needed some space, some time to collect myself. I knew just the place. I'd been meaning to visit since I left the hospital. Now was the perfect time. The drive was a few hours. Iain was asleep. I could make it there before he woke. Resolved, I merged onto the Ninety and headed south. ♪♫♪♫ The day was actually a beautiful one, I realized as I unfurled Iain’s blanket onto the grass. The sun was hiding just behind the clouds, making it comfortable enough to sit outside without risk of burning. The temperature was mild. A pleasant breeze ruffled my hair. I laid Iain on the blanket and plopped down beside him, careful to keep Brutus concealed in the diaper bag. Dogs weren’t permitted in the cemetery, but I didn’t think Haris would mind. He had liked dogs, I think. I remembered how little I knew about him, and felt acutely ashamed. I wiped a tear from my eye, and lay in the grass beside Iain. It felt like I was always talking to dead people. I didn’t mean to be morbid, but it was the truth. “God, I wish you

were still here so I could tell you how sorry I am.” They never answered, of course. Not my parents. Nor Haris. Only Gram. I still questioned my sanity over that. “I’m sure he hears you. I like to think that he’s listening.” The hairs on my arm rose. I nearly jumped out of my skin. Brutus came to my rescue with a few barks of warning. Unfortunately, he couldn’t protect me from my own sanity. That voice sounded uncannily like Haris. From behind the family mausoleum, Haris’s father emerged. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” “Oh dear God.” I pressed a hand to my chest in an effort to calm my heart. “You scared the bejesus out of me.” I was just glad it wasn’t Haris himself. I was beginning to seriously think I’d gone off the deep end. “Nice to see you again, Matilda.” His smile was warm. “Mattie, please. Nobody calls me Matilda.” “Forgive me. Haris used to call you Matilda.” He slid his hands into his pant pockets, and stared down at the grass below his feet.

“Haris did it t-t-to annoy me.” He claimed that Matilda was more mature. “He knew I hated it. I guess he figured negative attention was better than no attention.” “I see.” “Oh geez,” I backtracked. “I didn’t mean it like that. I loved him…I just…oh God…ignore me. I’m sleep deprived and had a really bad day.” His father chuckled, his eyes staring far off. “It’s ok. We were aware, his mother and I, of your situation. We warned him not to get involved—no slight intended. It wasn’t right for him to take advantage. You were confused…” My face burned hotter. “I’m sorry. I really am.” “Haris’s death wasn’t your fault. Christian Álvaro murdered him.” “I know.” Though it sure felt like it. My chin quivered. Fresh tears sprang to my eyes. The surfeit of guilt I hadn’t realized I was harboring, surfaced. At a loss for words, Mr. Kovač reached out and pulled me into his arm, let me soak his Armani shirt with my grief. Why I had thought coming here would be a good idea, I couldn’t fathom. It only dredged up more heartache. I’d wanted an escape. What I received was another round of self-torture.

“For what it’s worth, he was happy, Mattie.” Pulling myself together, I stepped away. “Thank you, Mr. Kovač. I don’t know how things would’ve worked out, but his support meant a lot tt-to me.” Iain chirped at my feet, garnering my attention. I quickly scooped him up, glancing up at Haris’s father. “I’d like you to meet Iain. Iain Haris Strickland.” The man’s eyes deepened, glossed over with tethered emotion. He was quiet for a long moment, as if trying to find a vestige of his son in Iain’s features. “You can hold him if you want.” “No—I haven’t held a baby in years. All thumbs.” “You did fantastic with Haris.” Insistently, I laid Iain against his chest. His arms came up naturally, supporting him. “See? It’s like riding a bike.” “Not quite at all.” He smiled, gazing down at Iain. “Thank you, Mattie. For honoring Haris with his name.” “He saved our lives.” “He looks like you and your brother.”

“It would cause his f-father great anguish tto hear you say that.” “Are you together?” “No.” I shook my head, feeling myself growing inward. “We’re not.” “It’s ok, Mattie. I…don’t think you should let Haris’s memory stand in the way of your happiness.” “We’re not t-together,” I reiterated. “Not ffrom lack of t-trying.” “I’m sorry to hear that. I met him at the hospital. He seemed genuinely concerned about you.” “Well, he’s like f-family.” It felt like poo coming out of my mouth. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kovač. I didn’t mean t-to intrude on your t-time visiting—” “It’s fine,” he interjected. “I came here to think. We’re supposed to decide on whether to accept the plea deal tomorrow. I thought maybe I would find some answers here.” “The plea deal.” It wasn’t the first time that’d come up. “What exactly is this plea deal?” “You don’t know?” “My brother’s lawyers are handling the details. I haven't been out of the hospital f-f-for long, and with the baby…”

“You have your hands full.” He nodded in understanding. “Are you going t-to accept?” “My wife is against any kind of bargaining. Though, Christian Álvaro will get life with no chance of parole, even with the deal. But, I figure if any good can come of this…” “What good?” I voiced. His son was dead. “What is he asking f-for?” “It's not really my place to tell you. I wouldn't feel comfortable. If your brother didn't tell you, I'm sure he had a reason.” Stepping toward me, he lifted Iain from his chest and passed him back. “It was nice to see you, Mattie. I should be going. Feel free to stay a little longer.” “I should be going t-too, actually. I have a ffew hours’ drive.” “You didn't come alone, did you?” He peered toward my car with concern, hoping to spot someone behind the wheel, an acquaintance or at least a driver. “I'm f-fine t-to drive,” I assured. “You don't need t-to worry.” “Maybe, but I would think your brother would have security on you until this is resolved.” “Christian Álvaro is in jail.”

“Mattie…”. Dropping his head, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “He’s withholding information that would implicate others in the attempt on your life. Until the names of those individuals are given, there is still a threat out there.” “Oh,” I said for the lack of a better reply. Frankly, I was lost in thought. The girls had been right after all. Carter wasn’t just acting the doting daddy. He was being overprotective for a reason. “Does your brother know you’re here?” “No, not exactly.” Fuck. I was in so much trouble. Jake was going to freak. “Why don’t I give you a ride home? You can call him on the way, let him know that you’re safe. I’m sure he’s worried.”

Chapter 21 It was a good thing I napped in the car, because the sun had been down for hours, and I was beyond the reaches of sleep. My mind was reeling, wound up after my return home. Things hadn’t been pretty. They’d all but called the police when I didn’t come home, you know, with me being in such a fragile state. Apparently, I was a danger to myself. To press their point, Jake and Paisley had stayed over to keep an eye on me. They were downstairs in the master bedroom. Too exhausted to argue, I’d offered to stay in Jake’s old room—now Iain’s nursery—with Iain. It was easier, in any case, to have him within arm’s reach. I wouldn’t have to tread up and down the stairs in the middle of the night to feed him and change his diaper. At the foremost of my thoughts, lay Carter Strickland. He hadn’t been here when I returned. Maybe he didn’t want to exacerbate matters. Maybe Jake told him to stay away. Maybe he decided he was better off. I didn’t ask, didn't want to know. I needed a clean break. Christian Álvaro ruled the lesser part of my

worries. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out who’d possibly want me dead. There was no motive. I didn’t have any enemies. I’d never so much as hurt a fly. So, who’d hired him? Part of me almost felt sorry for the man. From what Mr. Kovač explained, Christian Álvaro had an ailing daughter. He was desperate, and taken the job to pay for her medical bills. The story is, the mother was an addict. She had used when she was pregnant, and had overdosed shortly after birth. The baby had suffered from the effects of that drug abuse. At days old, she suffered withdrawal. At months old, she was diagnosed with a heart condition that required surgery. And like most of the blue collar working class, finding affordable insurance was difficult, especially when you were teetering the border of income thresholds. He just couldn’t afford to keep up with the premiums, copays, and deductibles, not to mention the cost of medications. He had no family. No support. He was having trouble staying afloat. Now at eighteen months, she needed a second surgery. What a shit hand to be dealt. Gathering my attention, Iain stirred in his crib. Three hours to the tee. The kid ate like clockwork. I was rising from the bed when something caught my attention. The curtains glowed in the moonlight, revealing the silhouette of

a man behind them. A scream caught in my throat. That’s what I get for feeling sorry for Christian Álvaro. Fucker. Whoever hired him found someone else to pick up where he’d failed. For what felt like a lifetime, I lay there frozen. I couldn’t seem to move my limbs. My heart leapt in my chest. I searched for the strength to run. And then I remembered Iain. No, I wasn’t going down without a fight. Amazing what instincts mothering brought out in you. Sliding out of bed, I grabbed Jake’s Louisville Slugger from the wall. I assumed what I thought might be a batter’s stance. Just as the figure pushed back the curtains and fell into the room, I swung away, nailing him across the side of the head. A hollow thud ensued. The figure fell to the floor. I didn’t stop to inspect his level of consciousness. I grabbed Iain and ran. Just as I reached the hallway, Jake was already running up the stairs. “There’s someone in the house!” I shouted. On the way past, I grabbed his sleeve, prepared to drag him with me. The idiot was running the wrong way. Jake grabbed my hand, prying me from his shirt. “Go downstairs. Lock yourself in the bedroom with Paisley. Don’t open the fucking door until Matt or I come to get you!” Taking the bat

from my hand, he took the remaining stairs two at a time. For once in my life, I listened. I descended the stairs in a blur, ignoring Iain’s complaints for fear of his life. He’d get over it. Paisley was waiting for me in the living room. Unlike my temporary bravado, she was still frozen. Cradling Iain against my chest, I grabbed her arm and dragged her with me into the bedroom. Quickly, I slammed the door closed with my foot and turned the lock. “What happened?” “Someone climbed up the roof,” I panted. “He was coming through the window. I nailed him in the head with the bat. Do you think I killed him?” “I fucking hope so.” Paisley went to the door, pressed her ear against it. “I don’t hear anything. That’s good, right?” “Jake has the bat. Oh God.” It hit me then. “The alarm’s going off. Do you think there’s someone else in the house?” “Jake pressed the panic button when he heard you scream.” “I screamed?” I didn’t remember screaming. “You screamed. It was bloodcurdling.”

“Do you hear anything now?” I couldn’t hear anything over Iain’s crying. Shifting him on my shoulder, I bounced him lightly, patting his back. He wasn’t having any of it. “Someone’s coming down the stairs, I think.” Hastening over to Paisley, I dragged her away from the door. “What’re you doing?” she protested. “If they have a gun, you’re going t-t-to get your head blown off, idiot! You have your head plastered t-t-to the damn door!” “It’s got to be Jake. I didn’t hear a scuffle.” “Did you hear me hit that guy with the bat?” I protested. “Will you stop it!” Paisley cried. “I’m trying to keep myself from thinking that Jake’s up there lying on the floor, damn it! You’re not helping!” “Jake’s fine,” I promised, just as the door rumbled with a knock. “It’s safe,” Jake called. “You can come out.” “See?” Not taking my word for it, Paisley ran to the door and yanked it open. Jake was standing on the other side, empty-handed. He caught her in his

arms, held her close. “It’s fine,” he said into her hair. “Just Carter. I need to shut off the alarm.” Carter. Jesus. I could've killed him. “Where is he?” “Upstairs. Waiting for his bell to stop ringing.” “Idiot.” “You should take him some ice.” “Paisley’s the nurse,” I objected. “Why don’t you send her up there t-to check on him?” “Because he didn’t scale the side of the house to see her.” “If I wanted t-t-to see him—” “I’m not getting in the middle of it!” Jake exclaimed, cutting me off. “Whatever happened between you two is your damn problem! If you want him to leave, tell him yourself!” Growling in complaint, I headed back up the stairs. I wanted to deal with Carter like I wanted a nail in the head. “Climbing the roof in the middle of the night? Do I look like Juliet? I should’ve hit him with Jake’s F-F-Fender. It would’ve actually gotten some use.” I continued muttering under my breath as I entered the bedroom. Carter was lying sprawled out on the floor. For a brief moment, I was concerned.

Until he opened his mouth. “You fight like you love, Angel—with a sucker punch.” “And you break hearts like you break and enter—with the care of a bull in a china shop.” “I meant what I said. I love you.” “I meant what I said. We’re through. I can’t do this anymore.” Dropping down into the chair, I continued my efforts to calm Iain by giving him my breast. “I’m t-tired, Carter. It’s been a long day. This couldn’t wait until morning?” “No…No, it couldn’t.” Sitting up, he moved slowly, testing his equilibrium. When he was satisfied, he climbed to his feet. “You think you’re going to just walk out of my life like that, you’re dead fucking wrong. Not this time. Everything up until now has been by your rules. Well, it’s my turn now. I get a say in this too.” Looking away, I gritted my teeth. I suppose I was stupid to think ending things would be that simple. Nothing about Carter was simple. I refused to meet his eyes. I couldn’t. I’d cave. Even now, I’d cave. When it came to him, my will was weak. Frustrated, he paced away and back again. “I know the female population think men are led by our dicks, but that’s not the case. Jesus! Do you really think it was all about sex that day at the

airport? Did you think I was drunk? Hungover? Horny? Well, fuck you! I have feelings, Matilda! You wanted comfort! You wanted it from me! I gave it to you! And do you know why? Because I fucking love you! I always have! It’s just…shifted! Everything I feel about you shifted! I only needed time to adjust! “You can disagree all you want, but I think I’ve handled everything pretty well. I panicked. I’ve never denied that. But I called. At least I made an effort. And you know what? Shame on you for not picking up the phone! You were pregnant with my kid! You didn’t even have the common decency to tell me! It wasn’t calling to tell me you forgot your panties on the floor of my car, or you cell phone in the armrest! You were fucking pregnant! “I came here to see you the night you came home. I had to know if there was still some chance… Do you know what it was like to watch you walk out that door? You were huge!” he mused fleetingly. “I knew it was mine. You were carrying my kid. I had no doubt! “I sat in the woods half in shock. Watched you kiss that fucking guy. Watched him touch you. I was ashamed that I’d fucked up, sure. But that wasn’t my first reaction. No. I was hurt. I was really hurt, Matilda. I was hurt because you claimed to love me, to know me so fucking well. I

guess you were wrong. Because behind all my jokes and sarcasm, I have feelings too. And you ripped my heart out that fuckin’ night.” Ambling toward me, he reached down, lifted Iain—who’d taken his fill and fallen back to sleep—from my arms. He poured over him, pressed a kiss to his head before laying him gently in the crib. Tears streamed down my face. I felt sick to my stomach. My anger had shifted to shame and sat like a lump in my throat. My breath hitched over the pain I’d caused him. I had a desperate desire to fade into the background until I disappeared. Feeling exposed, I tucked my knees against my chest, anguishing over how badly I screwed up. Again. With Iain tucked into his crib, Carter returned to my side. Reaching down, he brushed the top of my hair with his fingers. His voice was calmer now, softer. “When you were in that hospital bed, none of that mattered. Nothing scared me more than not having the chance to tell you how I felt, or have the chance to hold our baby. No amount of pride is worth standing between us. Not then. Not now.” Choking back tears, I stood from the chair, let myself lean into the comfort of his embrace. “We’re going to have up and downs,” he warned,

“and I’m not referring to my dick.” I laughed, thoroughly congested. Carter was always talented with infusing humor into any situation. “That’s my girl.” Tucking his hand under my chin, he nudged my head up to look at him. “Can we stop the madness now?” He pleaded. “We’ve shed enough damn tears to last a lifetime. There’re much funner things I can think of doing.” “I t-told you—f-f-funner isn’t a word.” “Urban Dictionary would disagree.” “That explains it all.” “I’m going to eschew the first three entries and quote the forth, ‘Sex is funner than sleep.’” “In light of the definition, I suppose it can be used informally.” “Now you’re catching on.” Dropping his head, he brushed his lips against mine. “Maybe we should scrutinize the accuracy of the definition rather than the authenticity of the word.” “That would be funner.” Carter’s lips took mine in a soft kiss, not hesitant, but appreciating the moment. As was I. There was something different about the underlying current. The desire was no less. The rush, no greater. I realized the passion was mutual. We were on even ground.

Who loved whom first or more deeply was irrelevant. It just…was. And it was magical. Carter’s hand strayed from my back to cup my breast. It was bare beneath the thin gown I wore. My nipple pebbled under his thumb. Breaking the kiss, I reached down and pulled my gown over my head. “Jesus,” Carter breathed, staring. Reaching down, he cupped my breast again, teasing my nipple again with his thumb. I watched his eyes deepen with hunger. Unable to restrain himself, he dropped his head, which I caught immediately between my hands. His eyes met mine. “They’re…f-full,” I warned, to which he replied with a grin. He ducked his head again, circled his tongue around my nipple, and pulled it into his mouth. I gasped, pulling his head to me. A bolt of heat licked me straight to my groin. My knees went weak. “Oh God!” Carter tightened his arms, supporting my weight as I writhed in pleasure. When he’d sated his curiosity, he slowed his draw and released my breast. I immediately guided his head to mine, met him in a kiss. On his tongue, I tasted a hint of milk, but it was quickly overshadowed as he guided me

toward the bed. Slowly, we shuffled a few steps back until my knees met the mattress. We fell with a loud compression of springs, our lips crashing into one another. Carter instantly began working at my underwear, slipping his fingers under the hip and sliding them down my thighs. When he could reach no farther, he broke the kiss and rose to his knees. His gaze remained riveted as he slipped them over my ankles and dropped them to the floor. Gently, he reached and traced the scar of my cesarean, his fingers barely brushing my skin. Acting on impulse, I grabbed his hand, selfconscious of my flaws. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are, Angel?” I shook my head, feeling far from it. Between the accident, Iain’s birth, and my surgeries, I was left with a multitude of scars and blemishes. “I’m missing a leg and you’re worried about a few scars?” he countered. He raised an eyebrow, daring me to argue. “It’s different. Scars make men look sexy.” “The only shame I see in these scars is that I had any part in them.” Leaning over me, he dropped his head and pressed his lips to my stomach. “I wish I could take them away.”

“I guess there’s one positive in it,” I allowed. “What’s that?” “My pussy’s still pretty.” Admittedly, I’d worried about the effects of pushing Iain out. I never claimed to be modest. If I was going to be in the dating pool, I wanted men to like what they saw. Now, I wanted Carter to like what he saw. Blinking, Carter guffawed. He slid his hand between my thighs, gently pushing them apart. “Let me be the judge of that, shall we?” Still laughing, he took a long gander, causing my face to blush ten shades of red. “Definitely pretty,” he approved. “Pretty enough to eat.” I yelped as he dipped his head between my thighs. My knees instinctively clenched. Carter remedied my unease with a few flicks of his tongue, effectively returning me to a state of repose. Before long, my fingers were threading into his hair, pulling him towards me rather than away. This…I had never imagined in my wildest dreams. I never got past missionary position in all my fantasies. I was so lost in pleasure that I was almost indignant when he stopped. “No need to pout, Angel. I’m not done yet.” Unfastening the button on his jeans, he pushed them down over his legs, let them puddle on the floor. His prosthetic followed.

I’d always wondered… My fascination swiftly vanished when he removed his boxer briefs. Low and behold, the object of my desire. Sure, I’d seen it before. But I’d been too greedy stuffing my mouth with it. This time, I studied it unreservedly. He was more impressively thick than long. I’d known that, but I was no less impressed or engrossed at the sight. Shifting on the bed, I leaned up. Carter was quick to rebuff my interest with a soft shove. I fell back against the bed, my breasts rebounding indelicately. Resting his hip on the bed, he slipped between my thighs again. I closed my eyes, surrendering myself to his whims. My breath hitched as his fingers traced along my entrance and then slowly sank in. The springs protested as he shifted his weight and dropped his head. His breath fanned over my heated flesh. “Come for me, Angel.” Slowly, he pulled his finger back, added a second. His tongue flicked against my clit. The fullness, the satin of his tongue, the desire of his tone had me quickly capitulating to his demands. I could feel the telltale lick of heat building between my thighs. I chased it, stoked the flame as I began to rock my hips against him. Carter moaned his approval, hastened his pace by matching my own. As the wave crested, I turned my head,

pressed my lips together in an attempt to stifle my cries. And almost failed thanks to Carter’s wicked constitution. Every time my peak began to subside, he teased it back to life with a few more laps of his tongue. He continued this torture until I rolled in an attempt to escape. Grasping my ankles, he tugged me toward him, and wedged his hips between my thighs. He watched, rapt, as he guided himself into me. I moaned, my back arching off the bed. He was going to be the death of me. I swore it. Staking his bright blue gaze to mine, he thrust his hips. Slowly at first. I moaned, fought to keep my eyes open. He smirked, thrust again. This time, a little harder. His eyes sparkled in the dim light of the room, taking in every nuance of my reactions. A third time, and his face wrinkled with undiluted lust. “Jesus, Angel, I can’t…fuck!” Thrusting his hips in earnest, he chased his peak. I grasped the sheets in one hand, his arm in the other, bracing myself. Still, he held my gaze. Dipping his head down, he took my mouth in a kiss. It was edgy, all teeth and scrape. Our breath intermingled in panting bursts. “Harder,” I demanded, wanting all of him, and aware he was holding back. Raising his shoulders, he dropped his head. His teeth set on edge. A growl rolled up his throat with each thrust,

giving himself over to his nature. His force was merciless. His plight, determined. Me…I fought to remain coherent for every moment. I refused to surrender one tiny detail of something I’d waited so long to experience. I’d won this. No, I’d earned it. I’d sacrificed blood, sweat, and tears to be with this man. I wanted to remember every fucking part of it. Leveraging himself on one arm, he grasped my leg, hitched it over his shoulder. The other, I wrapped around his hip. His thrust slowed, but deepened. My fingers curled, nails biting into his back. His gaze met mine briefly before his eyes closed. His jaw clenched. His entire frame seized. Reaching his peak, he pulled out, spread warm lashes across my entrance as he continued to ride out the tremors. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” he chanted, working the last of his orgasm with a few strokes of his hand. “Jesusmarymotherofgod!” I broke down into a giggle, slightly euphoric. “That’s not funny. I think you just took ten years off my life.” “I’m not sorry.” Loosening his muscles, he pulled his knee under him, removed my leg from his shoulder, and rested it on his thigh. “Are you ok?”

“F-Fine.” Fantastic, actually. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” “I’m f-fine,” I repeated, noting his growing concern. “You’re bleeding.” “What?” “It’s not a lot, but…” “It’s nothing,” I assured, abruptly sober. Rolling to my side, I extracted my legs from around him and slid from the bed. “I’m going t-to clean up.” This wasn’t one conversation I wanted to have. Jesus. Grabbing the towel from the hook on the way, I ducked into the bathroom and closed the door. The shower started with a hiss, spitting and angry as the air bled from the lines. I let the water run hot, until steam started to billow over the top of the shower curtain. Draping the towel over the sink, I pushed the curtain back and stepped into the tub. The water was hot, providing almost no relief from the summer heat. Nonetheless, I tilted my head and let the water run through my hair. “Move back,” Carter warned, “I’m coming in.” Nearly jumping out of my skin, I stepped back as he pulled the curtain back and joined me.

“Was it too soon?” he asked. “After having the baby? I mean…should we have waited?” “No.” My frown deepened. “What’re you getting so upset about?” “It’s personal. That’s all.” “Angel.” Moving closer, he cornered me, boxing me against the wall. “I don’t think it gets more personal than what we just did. There’s no need to get prissy now.” Gritting my teeth, I looked down, and up again. “God, Carter, if you must hear it, you’re just…endowed.” “Endowed?” The corner of his mouth pulled into a crooked grin. “While I’m flattered, I have to wonder who else you’ve been messing around with. My dick ain’t that impressive. I follow the adage of it not being the size, but how you use it.” “Then you’re t-truly t-talented.” I pinched a smile and reached for the shampoo. “You used it very well.” “How many men have you been with?” Carter asked bluntly. My hand spasmed, squeezing more than enough on my palm. Pearlized pink suds flowed over the sides of my hand and ran down the drain. “How many, Angel?”

“That’s none of your business. I don’t ask how many girls you’ve slept with.” “I couldn’t honestly tell you.” “I didn’t actually want you t-to answer that.” I was already aware. I’d learned, by the time I was sixteen, not to eavesdrop on the boys’ conversations. The less I knew about his conquests, the better, and he’d had a lot of conquests… “Are you going to answer me?” “No.” His head jerked back as if I’d slapped him. I’d hurt him. It was the last thing I wanted after sharing one another, to add another rift between us. “One.” Carter lifted his head as I dropped mine. “You mean one, not including me, right?” I shook my head. This Matilda the Hun was conquered by only one. I hadn’t exactly saved myself for Carter Strickland. It was just that no one compared to him. He was all I thought of, all I saw. Sighing, Carter pulled me into his arms. “Why would you hide that from me?” “I don’t want anything else t-t-to stand between us.” “That’s kind of late now.”

“You’ll dwell on it.” I’d lost my virginity to him in the car that morning, and he’d shoved me out the door. I can’t say I hadn’t dwelled on it. There were many factors into why I hadn’t picked up the phone when he’d finally called. “Probably,” he admitted. “You’ll just have t-to make it up t-to me,” I proposed. “Every day,” he agreed. “And twice on Sunday.”

Chapter 22 A

“ ngel, I’m beginning to think you only love me for my body,” Carter surmised. He was sprawled on his back, his leg hidden beneath the sheets. Straddling his waist, I held his hand in mine, tracing every curve of muscle and bone. His fingers were calloused. His nail beds, long but trimmed. Veins trailed up the back of his hand. I followed them up his arm, ran my hand over his bicep, squeezed. “Not only for your body, but it’s a pretty nice bonus.” Wrapping my waist, he rolled and pinned me beneath him. “I beg to differ. You’re much prettier to look at.” “I wasn’t done.” Not nearly. I wanted to memorize him, every delicious curve. “Baby’s gonna wake up soon. If we hurry…” Wrapping my legs around his waist, I rolled, taking him with me. The sheets fell to the floor. My vagina felt like sandpaper, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. He would start brooding again over the mismanaged loss of my virginity. Technically, that

had been the better part of a year ago, but I suppose nine months between your first and last encounter were somewhat counterproductive in the acclimatizing to his width—which he still denied vehemently. Inching down his waist, I pushed his hands above his head, resuming my appraisal of his physique. “Don’t worry. I won’t t-take long.” Leaning down, I ran my tongue around his nipple, rolled it gently between my teeth. “Angel,” he sucked through his teeth in warning. Stifling a grin, I inched lower, alternately nipping at his chest, and soothing it with my tongue. He flinched when my fingers brushed his ribs, and I received a withering glance for it. I promptly disregarded the exchange, my focus elsewhere. A goldmine if I’d ever seen one, his cock lay stiff between the curves of his Adonis belt. Staring hungrily, I wet my lips with a sweep of my tongue, and nearly jumped out of my skin when the door rumbled with a knock. “Company coming,” Jake called. “Richard’s called a meeting.” “How long?” Carter inquired, meeting my eyes. “Not long enough, asshole.”

As Jake’s footsteps faded down the hall, Iain stirred in his crib. Carter sighed, dropping his head to the mattress. “This is going to be interesting.” “I think we should drag our f-feet,” I suggested. “By the time we’re done, the others will be here t-to buffer his attitude.” “I plan to,” Carter agreed. “Gotta get in the shower.” Rolling out of the bed, he beelined it for the bathroom. The smell hit me a second later. “You are such a wuss!” I exclaimed, tossing a pillow at the door. “It’s just a dirty diaper!” “Just the smell of it makes me gag,” Carter retorted. Retching noises echoed from the bathroom where he was hiding. “Ack!” “That doesn’t even sound real.” Sulking, I climbed out of bed and grabbed my clothes from the floor. “What do you think Iain McBean? Is Daddy f-full of poo?” I asked, to which Iain replied with a burgeoning wail. My nose wrinkled. “Like ff-father like son.” Quickly tugging my clothes on, I made quick work of changing his diaper. Then, I threw the sheets back, roughly making the bed. Carter’s clothes, I folded and left neatly on the sink. Iain’s bundled—but warm—diaper rested atop them, the cherry on top.

“Should we brave Uncle Jake alone?” I asked Iain. Scooping him from the crib, I rested him on my shoulder and headed down the stairs just as the shower sputtered to a stop. Someday, karma would catch up with his daddy. In the meantime, I’d deliver my own brand of justice. In the kitchen, I found Jake making a fresh pot of coffee, while Paisley rooted through the fridge for something edible. Her head popped up over the door as I came into the room. “You look much better,” she observed, a wry smile toiling at the corners of her lips. “I feel great.” I glanced at Jake, who glanced at me. “Go ahead. Don’t let me stop you.” Lifting the pot from the base, he poured himself a fresh cup. “God knows, you didn’t give a care in the world what I heard last night.” He’d muttered the latter, though barely checked. “It’s my house.” “Not technically, but you do have a nice bed. Doesn’t make a sound. You know, I never thought about memory foam before. I might have to pick one up for myself.” “Ew! Please t-tell me you’re kidding.” Jake’s smirk was enough to make me cringe. “It’s brand new!” I complained. “I haven’t even used it

yet!” “Remember that when you lay your face on the sofa,” Jake added. “Where else have we… the kitchen table… the counter...” “Jake!” Paisley protested, suddenly modest. “The piano, I’m taking,” Jake continued. “Don’t need to worry about that.” My nose wrinkled. I frowned. “You’re so disgusting.” “Me?” Jake protested. “If that ain’t the pot calling the kettle…” Paisley stepped between us, grasping Jake’s hand hard enough to garner his attention. “You said you were going to behave.” “I am.” “What do you mean, ‘not technically,’” I inquired, changing the subject. I didn’t need the two to argue on my account. Not that Paisley wouldn’t appreciate the makeup sex. “The paperwork needs to be filed to transfer the deed. I just can’t find it.” There was a double knock on the back door. Tate walked in with Coop in tow. The two glanced around the room, measuring their surroundings. “Richard’s on his way in. Pulled in behind us. Where’s Carter?”

“Hiding,” Jake replied. “I’m not hiding,” Carter retorted. “I was a little busy picking my guts up off the floor. My head is killing me.” Contrary to his claim, he sauntered into the room, freshly showered and looking like the sight of perfect health. I suppose years on the road had him accustomed to living on the fly. “Maybe you shoulda tried using the door,” Jake suggested. Lifting his coffee, he took a deep gulp, and winced. Headed for the fridge for more milk. “If I thought anyone would’ve opened it, I would have.” “I’m a little lost,” Tate admitted, glancing between the two of them. “What the hell happened?” “Idiot was too impatient to wait until morning to defend his ego, so he climbed the roof. Mattie beamed him in the head with my bat when he came through the window.” “Did not!” Tate laughed. “For real?” “I thought he was an intruder,” I explained. “Apparently Coop’s not the only one that attracts homicidal maniacs. I can’t believe none of you ttold me.”

“We didn’t want you to worry,” Carter replied. “You would’ve been jumping over every little creak, constantly looking over your shoulder.” Coop slid onto the stool next to me. She opened her arms. I passed her Iain, who was still satisfied with the knuckle of his thumb. “I told them you were better off. It’s no way to live,” she explained, ogling over his hair and cheeks. “Jeez he’s all Whalen. I don’t see a bit of Carter in him.” “Thanks,” Carter griped. He opened the cabinet, and began rooting through my medications for some sort of pain reliever. “It’s true,” she replied in defense. “You could lie. Placate me a little.” “I think he has your appetite.” Carter glowered, but curbed himself with a few oxycodone. “Should you be taking those?” I asked. “What if you have a concussion?” I turned to Paisley who shrugged and bit back a smile. “Other than a headache, he seems fine. And he might’ve avoided that too if he’d gotten any sleep last night.” I opted to bite my tongue and remain argumentative in order to avoid attracting interest in the latter of her diagnosis. I’d thought Carter and

I were reasonably quiet, but it appeared that wasn’t the case. Besides, Tate and Cooper didn’t need to know all the dirty details. Richard spared me from further scrutiny when he walked through the door. “No. I’m not representing Mr. Álvaro. I’m going to recommend what’s best for my clients and their families; that Mr. Álvaro remain behind bars where he belongs.” Swearing under his breath, he lowered the phone from his ear and ended the call. “Fucking lazy pieces of shit. Do your fucking jobs.” “Two f-bombs,” Carter observed. “Must be good news.” “Yes and no,” Richard replied. Placing his briefcase on the floor, he removed his jacket, and draped it over the back of the chair. “Where’s Shane when you need him? Coffee is just not going to cut it today.” “Tell me what you need,” Carter offered. “Between Angel and I, we probably have it in the cabinet there.” “Coffee,” Richard settled. “Heavy on the sugar.” Resting on the stool, he kept one foot on the floor. “The glue on Mr. Álvaro’s fingertips finally wore off. They were able to get a clean set of prints. There was a match in the database.” “So, he has a record.”

“Attempted murder,” Richard confirmed. “Accused but not convicted.” “Fucker,” Carter swore. “Why isn’t he already in prison?” “He fled the scene before the police could arrive. They were able to lift his fingerprints from the vehicle, but with no priors and no eye witnesses, he was able to evade arrest. Coop,” said Richard, looking her in the eye. “He’s the driver of the white van, the man who attacked you back in Pennsylvania.” “Holy fucking shit,” Jake added. Tate grasped Coop’s shoulder and squeezed. She placed her hand over his. Her other hand went over her mouth, stifling a reply while she fully grasped this news. “There’s more,” Richard warned. “He’s been trying to access Tate’s property. Seems your four-legged security has been doing their jobs.” “Em’s dogs?” Coop asked. Richard nodded. “He was tossing raw meat to them over the fence as a distraction. He almost succeeded too. The day the band left to finish the tour, Coop had been walking the property. He was hiding in the hedges. If Paisley hadn’t been with you…”

“This is insane.” Paisley pushed a hand through her hair, her head shaking back and forth with disbelief. Jake reached out and stroked her back, assuring himself she was safe. “His latest attempt on her life was an act of desperation. The officials think he mistook Mattie for Coop, but Álvaro will neither confirm nor deny.” Coop broke down in tears. Unable to bear anymore, she turned and buried her face into Tate’s chest. “I have my own suspicion that both girls were targets,” Richard theorized. “And for good reason. The police have been building evidence against Álvaro, pulling phone records, checking alibis, previous work history… he worked for Amanda Keller’s family. He was their groundskeeper for a short time. From the statements you’ve given previously about the incident in Missoula, she likely held a grudge against Mattie, too.” The room erupted. Tate asked the question everyone wanted to know, but was too stupefied to articulate. “Have they arrested her?” “Not yet. They have to have sufficient evidence.”

“Christian Álvaro still isn’t talking.” “No,” Richard replied. “He’s still holding out for the plea deal. Now, he has a little more leverage. If Amanda catches suspicion, she’s liable to flee jurisdiction—if she didn't the moment Mr. Álvaro was arrested. Christian wanted to be furloughed so he could be with his daughter during her heart surgery. In return, he’d provide exactly what we needed to lock up Amanda Keller… testimony. “Why not give him what he wants?” I inquired. A resounding chorus on nos filled the room. “Amanda Keller is obviously the dangerous one,” I pointed out. “He might be in prison, but what's t-t-to keep her f-from hiring someone else?” “It's only a matter of time until we have the evidence we need to arrest her,” Richard assured. “You don't need to worry. You're safe.” Right. Hence the reason for security parking outside day and night. “What if we offer him something better?” I amended. “Something he couldn't refuse.” “We ain't offering him dog shit,” Carter scoffed. “Like Richard said, if the DA would do his damn job, this fucking criminal wouldn’t have a leg

to stand on.” “It’s more f-for his daughter than him,” I said to mollify him. I'd laid in bed all night thinking about it. Mr. Kovač had said if anything good could come of this… “His daughter is a ward of the state,” Richard advised. “She'll have the surgery she needs. He should be thankful enough for that.” “She has no one,” I pressed on. “Not one relative or friend of the family t-to look after her. No one who will be there when she wakes up ffrom surgery. She's a baby. She'll be scared. Wanting her daddy. She's supposed t-to t-take solace f-from some strange nurse, volunteer, or orderly…? Do none of you remember your stay in the hospital?” “It's sucks, Angel, but it's out of our hands.” “Just hear me out,” I pleaded. “This guy was willing t-to go t-to any lengths for his daughter. He wants the best f-for her. We can offer that t-to her, while getting what we need t-to put Amanda Keller away.” “What exactly are you suggesting we offer?” Richard asked, biting. “A home.” “No,” Carter refused. “No way.”

“Not us,” I clarified. “Em.” “She’s not a stray dog, Mattie,” Jake mocked. “She’s a baby.” “Exactly my point. Em wants a baby more than anything. This little girl needs someone t-to care for her. She needs a home, not t-to jump ffrom f-foster f-family t-to f-foster f-family. The adoption would be clean…private. There will be no contest. Her f-father would be stupid not t-to agree. Look at the life Em could offer her…” “The guy’s obviously not the sharpest tool in the shed,” Carter voiced. “He’s an attempted murderer. Twice.” I looked at Richard, pinned him with my gaze. “Just make the petition. What’s it going to hurt?” “Em would have to agree first,” he reasoned. “We can’t approach the prosecutor without—” “Coop will call her now.” “Are we really serious?” Coop asked, looking around the room. “This is insane,” Paisley said. “She might actually go for it.” “We’re talking Emster here,” Carter mused. “Asking her if she wants a baby is like asking Coop

if she likes ice cream or if Paisley likes spankings.” Richard blinked. Shaking his head, dispelling the thought, he pulled his phone from his pocket. “I’m going to make a call, see if we can get a few pictures of the baby.” “It won’t matter,” Coop said. “It won’t hurt, either.” “You’re actually considering this,” Carter surmised. “The prosecutor is eager to win this case. He’s young. It’s high profile. It’ll gain him a ton of exposure,” Richard said as he dialed his phone. Placing it to his ear, he ambled into the next room. “Michael…? Richard…I have a proposition…” “What’re you waiting f-for?” I prompted Coop. ♪♫♪♫ “What did I tell you!” Em exclaimed, coming through the door. “It worked! Never doubt Nonna’s curse breaking skills! We got her! We finally got her!” “I’m pretty sure I have no idea what she’s ttalking about,” I said to Carter. Curse breaking skills? “That makes two of us.”

“Something about someone casting Coop the evil eye,” Paisley explained. “She did some kind of curse rebounding spell with Coop’s hair, a bowl of water, and some olive oil.” “It was really unimpressive,” Jake added. When Em glared at him, he quickly changed his tune. “But hey…it worked like a charm. That’s what counts.” “Not exactly,” I hedged. “We don't have her yet.” “We don't,” Em repeated disconsolately. “What're we waiting for?” We gave Em a rundown of the situation, while being ambiguous about the exact details of the plea deal. There, Richard stepped in, placing the photos of Christian’s daughter on the counter. “Merda!” Em said, picking up the pictures. “Look at those cheeks! I could just eat her alive!” Sophia Isabella Álvaro was beautiful, with long black curls and olive skin. She had large, chocolate brown eyes, and dimples that carved into her cheeks when she smiled. “So, what's the deal?” Em inquired. “What does he want?” “She’s sick,” I explained. “He wants t-to be f-furloughed so he can be with her during the

surgery.” Em made a noise of derision. “Like that's going to happen.” “He doesn't have any f-family,” I explained. “No one, not even an acquaintance t-to be there ffor her. She's going t-to have heart surgery, and she's going t-to go through it all alone.” “Angel here wants you to adopt her,” Carter spouted, cutting to the chase. The pictures hit the counter. Em panned the room, wondering whether she should laugh. “This is a joke, right?” “Way to ease her into the idea, Carter,” Paisley scoffed. “Smooth. Real smooth.” “Oh, come on. She's a big girl. There's no point in beating around the bush. We’re on a tight deadline.” “You're all serious.” Em looked distraught. Understandably, it was a lot to take in. “The DA has some lawyers drawing up the papers now,” Richard confirmed. “They want to present it to him this afternoon.” “This is a baby,” Em stated. “You want me to adopt the baby of the man who tried to murder the two of you.” “Why should the child pay f-for the sins of

the f-father?” I countered. “She’s innocent in all of this.” “Marone,” Em muttered. She picked up the pictures, looked at them again. “This is insane.” Shane cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “Oh. My. God,” I said eloquently. He had the ring in his hand. Tears rushed to my eyes. This was so happening. “We can do this together,” he told her. He extended his hand, proffering the ring. “I’m in if you are.” Shane was never one for words. Proposing —in front of everyone—took guts. I’d heard bits and pieces of his upbringing. It wasn’t pleasant. This was a huge step. A leap of faith. No one deserved happiness more. …If Em refused, I’m might jump her and pull her hair out. Em stared, her mouth bobbing wordlessly. Carter pulled his phone from his pocket and started recording. Abruptly, Em leapt onto Shane, wrapping her arms around his neck, and nearly taking him down. He fought to maintain his balance and not drop the ring or his prospective fiancée. “I think that’s a yes,” Carter observed. “I

believe our boy Shane just got himself engaged.” Coop looked as bad as I did. She had a balled up napkin in her hand, with which she alternated blotting one eye and then the other. I blamed it on the hormones, seeing that Paisley was holding her shit together. Gram would’ve been tickled pink. Her home was still alight with love and family. There would be children here. Tons of children. It’s what we’d both wanted. “Is that a yes?” Shane inquired, finally regaining a semblance of coherence from Em. Dropping back to her heels, she nodded exuberantly, fighting tears. Shane popped the velvet box open and lifted the ring from its setting. Em gasped, but offered her hand, which was shaking. “Yes,” she managed, thickly. Shane slid the ring onto her finger, smiling with relief when it showed no resistance. When his gaze met hers again, it was filled with triumph. Tate lifted his fingers to his mouth and blew a shrill whistle. The rest of us broke into applause, offering them our heartfelt congratulations. “We need to toast to this,” Jake advised. “Coop, take stance.” Coop shielded her face as Jake popped the cork from a bottle of champagne. Foam shot out of the bottle, dribbled onto the floor.

“Well, they say it’s not a party until something gets spilled.” “If I can interrupt…” Richard implored. “Just for a minute or two. I hate to blemish the occasion, but I have a phone call to the prosecutor to make, and I’d like to confirm that the acceptance was across the board before doing so.” Em looked to Shane, who raised an eyebrow. The decision was hers. She pondered it for a half second longer, and nodded her head. “I’m in.” “This by no means guarantees Mr. Álvaro’s agreement.” Richard stepped closer, placed a hand on her shoulder. “The generosity and compassion of your offer alone attests to the kind of mother you would be, but he doesn’t have a history of making good decisions.” “This is barely settled in, Richard,” she assured. “I’ll be fine.” “It’s a long shot, but I'll make the call.” He reached for a glass of champagne, lifted it into the air. “I've never met a more insane, more beautiful group of people in the world. Your love truly knows no bounds. Don't ever let that change.”

Chapter 23 O

“ h my God,” Coop exclaimed. “I just want to glue him to my face so I can nuzzle his fur all day.” Which she was doing as she spoke. Brutus didn't appear to mind, approving with a lick to her face. “You didn't make that big a deal over my kid,” Carter complained. “I have three of my own at home.” “I should've gotten small dogs,” Em observed. “Mine ate the leg of my table last night. They ate the chair the night before.” “You hated that set,” Shane dismissed. “You said it belonged in your ex’s house because it was cold like his heart.” “That's not the point,” Em argued. “When I replace it with something warm and inviting, I don't want them thinking it's dessert.” “That's what your underwear are for.” Shane’s lips curled into a wry smile. “They ate your underwear?” I laughed. “FF-For real?”

“They eat rocks,” Em said pointedly. “And their own shit when it suits them. Don’t put too much consideration into the palatability of my thongs.” I stifled a laugh, but the silent jars of my chest stirred Iain. Carter leaned over my shoulder, pressed a kiss to my jaw. “Why don’t you let me put him upstairs in the crib so you can relax?” My face flushed with color at everyone’s stare. I suppose it was the first form of public affection Carter had shown. Rising from the sofa, I shifted Iain into his arms. When I sat back down, the four other men were headed toward the kitchen. Coop, Em, and Paisley sat on the edges of their seats, waiting to pepper me with questions. “Don’t leave anything out,” Em warned. “We want every detail.” I ran them through with a brief outline of the events, from my botched dinner plans to Carter sneaking through my window and my ensuing defensive attack. My face was red with discomfiture. The hot seat definitely wasn’t my forte. “That’s it?” Em complained. “Come on— you can do better than that. You didn’t even get to the juicy parts.” “I can tell you anything you want to know,”

Paisley boasted. “We could hear everything.” “Could not,” I protested, my eyes bugging out. “We weren’t that loud.” “The springs on the bed are.” She leaned forward, rested her elbows on her knees. “The first time was rough—make up sex. The best kind. The second time was slower—soul shattering. The third time was just because he could.” It’s exactly what it was. I’d woke to feed Iain. When I slid back into bed, I’d thought Carter was asleep, but it wasn’t the case. He’d spooned, slid into me from behind. It was lazy, clumsy. We’d both been exhausted. He’d brought me to peak, and then foregone his own pleasure in lieu of wellneeded rest. We laid there like that, his cock still within me until he’d gone soft, and we’d succumbed to sleep. I’d tried to make it up to him this morning, but… “Richard called.” Jake stepped into the room. He had the phone in his hand. “The prosecutor presented Álvaro with the papers. Gave him a few hours to consider. He confessed everything. They’re on their way to arrest Amanda now.” Coop stood as Tate crossed the room. They embraced, relieved that it was finally over. Soon enough, Amanda would be out of their lives…all

our lives. “What about the baby?” I inquired because Em was obviously afraid to ask. “Has he made a decision?” “He has a few stipulations. He asked for a video conference. Richard’s setting everything up now.” “He can suck my—” Shane started, but Em interceded. “I’ll do it.” She stood, smoothing her clothes. “He gave them what they needed to arrest her—without making more demands. He’ll sign the papers. This is all matter of form.” “He’s not in a position to make demands, Beautiful.” “Sure he is,” Em argued. “If I genuinely want to raise his daughter, I’ll be willing to listen to his requests. If you can say anything about the guy, he was a devoted parent. Someone willing to go to those lengths for their child will have concerns.” “If you’re sure about this,” Jake prompted, “I’ll need to text Richard back with your number, and which video app you use…” “I’ll get my phone from my purse.” The three headed back toward the kitchen. Paisley trailed after them. Tate and Coop moved to the far

corner of the room, having their own private conversation. I headed up the stairs to see how Carter was making out with Iain. When I walked in the room, he was dropping the lid to the hamper. “Did you have to change him?” “It wasn’t that bad. I was able to stomach it.” Turning, he ambled toward me. “Did I hear Richard called?” “They’re on their way to arrest Amanda.” “Jesus, it worked.” “He hasn’t signed the adoption papers yet. He has some ‘stipulations’.” I air quoted the word. “What kind?” “Don’t know. Em’s waiting t-to f-find out.” “It’s an amazing thing you’ve done, Angel.” Dropping his head, he captured my lips in a brief kiss. “You’re one in a million. Not many people have the compassion you do.” “It makes me happy t-to see Em happy.” “I think you’ve made her more than happy.” “It’s silly, but it makes me f-feel like part of the gang.” “You always were.” “I observed from afar,” I disagreed. “It was

different.” “You were always part of my gang.” “I was f-family.” “It was different,” Carter said, using my own words. He silenced any further argument, capturing my lips in another kiss. This one held a little more demand. His tongue swept into my mouth, met mine with a hungry stroke. I moaned and leaned into his arms, causing him to chuckle. He guided me back a few clumsy steps until my back pressed against the wall. Without breaking the kiss, he reached and pushed the door closed. Then he was at my shorts, slipping his hand under the waistband. I was already growing wet for him. As the pads of his fingers brushed against my clit, however, I grasped his hand and broke the kiss. Meeting his eyes, I grinned devilishly, trailing my finger down his stomach and to his waist. I slipped my finger under the button of his jeans, popped the button. Slipping my hand into his shorts, I palmed the length of his cock. He was hard, so fucking wide. Mirroring my reaction, he grasped my wrist. “I have one rule, Angel; ladies always first.” Still holding my wrist, he raised my arm and lowered his shoulder. Next thing I knew, I was in the air and

bouncing on the bed. I clasped my hand over my mouth, muffling a yelp. “Don’t hide your smile from me,” he demanded. Grasping my shorts, he pulled them down my legs and tossed them to the floor. “They’re so few and far between, every single one is like a fucking treasure.” “You have words,” I teased, impressed. “For you, I give them all.” Dropping between my thighs, he lowered his head and dove in. I clenched at even the slightest brush of his tongue. It felt like he was raking me with jagged shards of glass. Instinctively, I rolled. Looked down. His face was sandwiched between my thighs. “I’m sorry.” “No…somehow, this is really hot.” Laughing, I scooted back, but didn’t let him up. “What’s wrong, Angel?” “I can’t do it again. Not yet.” “That bad?” “It was worth it.” “You should've said something.” “It f-felt good at the t-time.” Shimmying down farther, I pressed my lips to his. His hand rose

to cup the back of my neck, but I was quick to block his advance. “Relax.” “Angel.” “Relax,” I repeated. “This t-time it's you ffirst.” “You don't have to do tha—” I kissed him again, cutting off his retort. He opened for me as I parted my lips. Lord, this man was going to be the death of me. My want and need were overwhelming. Teasing him, I sucked the tip of his tongue between my lips, mimicking my intent. He moaned low on his throat, thrusting his hips against me. Abandoning his mouth, I inched down his chest. “Change your mind?” “I didn’t really mean it. I was just being polite.” “Screw polite. I always liked your trashy mouth.” Freeing him from his jeans, I took him into my mouth. Carter thrust his hips, pushing himself to the back of my throat. “Holy Christ.” I looked up, met his gaze. Held it as he took his pleasure. He fascinated me, enraptured me with his desire. I did this to him. I made him lose himself. It gave power, a tremendous amount of power. I reveled in it, swirling my tongue over the head of his cock with every back thrust.

Carter groaned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, his blue eyes nearly hidden behind his thick lashes. He was watching still. I knew he was. The muscles of his neck stood taut, straining to see. I hollowed my cheeks, watching his tooth pierce farther into his lip. His hand threaded into my hair. Much to my consternation, he withdrew. “Like dirty mouths, Angel?” he graveled. I smirked, standing my ground. Ran my tongue across my lip. Grasping his cock in his left hand, he stroked himself. “Open,” he demanded. “Stick out that pretty pink tongue of yours! Fuck! Now!” Abandoning his gaze, I opened my mouth, lapped at the head of his cock with the tip of my tongue. Carter froze, seized. A harsh breath hissed through his teeth. Warm lashes of his peak struck my tongue. The back of my throat. I took him back into my mouth, greedy for more. He was salty, slick. His hips continued to buck, small, waning thrusts as he worked the last of his peak. It was a rush. A mad fucking rush. I wondered if it’d always be like this. As he fell still, I rested atop him, his cock still hard in my hand. My heart beat like a drum in my chest. I was fairly sure he could feel it. His raced beneath my cheek.

“I’m so going to hell for this,” Carter proclaimed. I would’ve been indignant, but he followed it with, “I’ve corrupted The Virgin Mattie.” “I’ll be right beside you.” Inching up his chest, I straddled his waist, rested my head on his shoulder. “I’ve committed my share of sins.” “Oh yeah?” He raised one eyebrow in doubt. “I’ve had lots of impure thoughts… and masturbation… impure thoughts… masturbation… impure thoughts… masturbation… Years’ worth. Maybe a decade.” Lost in thought, he shook his head. “I can’t believe you made it through college without fucking around.” “It wasn’t f-from their lack of t-trying.” “I’m sure,” he said dryly. Sighing, he dragged a hand down his face, discomfited with the thought. “You didn’t have to save yourself for me, Angel.” “I didn’t. Not implicitly. Unlike you, I can’t separate sex and love. I’ve been attracted,” I confessed. “But I would’ve f-fallen f-for them. I couldn’t—wouldn’t risk the slightest possible chance I might’ve had with you by f-falling f-for someone else. It would’ve been a mistake. I

would’ve regretted it. Always wondered what might’ve been.” “Haris?” “Was as close of a contender you’ll ever have met.” “I knew it.” Rolling, he pinned me beneath him. His dark hair hung in loose waves around his face. “Worst part is I can’t even hate the guy cause he saved your life.” “You can hate him. He wasn’t t-too f-fond of you.” “Makes it a little easier.” Dropping his head, he brushed his lips against mine. “I think I might need to put a ring on your finger, Angel, if simply to fend off the competition.” “My wearing it would all depend,” I retorted. “On what?” His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. “Whether you’re done doing road gigs. You want t-to discuss pasts, we’ll discuss pasts.” “I’m done with road gigs.” “How am I supposed t-to know that?” “I’ve never loved any of them.” “Funny, I explicitly recall you declaring

your love f-for at least six. If not more.” “Bullshit.” “The redhead from New England with the ffreckles. She had rosy pink nipples f-from what I recall.” “I don’t even remember her name.” “Ffffiona.” Her name clung to the edge of my teeth. Damn fricatives were going to be my downfall. “Jesus.” “Then there was the blonde f-from Indiana. She t-took you back t-to her daddy’s barn, and you had sex in the silo.” “I don’t remember that.” “When you got back on the bus, you were picking corn f-from your ass crack, and it wasn’t because it's indigestible.” “How do you know that?” “Let’s not f-forget the snow bunny.” I recalled Olivia from direct memory. Jake had rented a lodge for the week as a high school graduation gift. The whole gang had come to celebrate the event with a weekend of skiing and partying. At the time, I had thought I was the bomb.

An adult. Carter would finally notice I’d grown up. To my dismay, Olivia had been assigned as our ski instructor. The two bonded over missing appendages, and were all but inseparable the entire weekend. “It was one weekend,” Carter dismissed. “I liked her because she didn’t single me out over my leg. She didn’t take it easy on me like most people would have.” “She singled you out specifically because of your leg,” I disagreed. “But you’re right—she didn’t t-take it easy on you. F-From what I recall, you had a f-forty-eight-hour marathon going.” “How do you know all of this stuff?” Carter repeated, indignant. “I was in the next room.” I moved to rise, Carter pinned me with his weight, denying my retreat. “You can’t hold that against me,” he argued. “It was four years ago. You were eighteen. I didn’t even know you existed.” “Oh…I know,” I said acerbically. “I know f-full well I didn’t exist t-to you. Gram was right about one thing. I used t-to hang on your every word. I went into vagina mode every t-time you came over. I’d bake shit just t-to get a-a-a wink and a compliment. And every t-time you ruffled my hair

and walked away—while stuffing your f-face with my baked goods—all I saw was my bloody ffucking heart in your hand. It makes me wonder why I even like you. You’re so damn blind and dense.” “You’re really angry.” I snorted. You think? “I honestly don’t know what to say to make you feel better,” he admitted. “Except that they’re not here with me. I’m not in love with them. And I’m not trying to decide whether I'm going to have two or three kids with them. I’m here with you.” That wasn't half bad. He’d hit all the right marks, plus some. “Four.” “Four?” He balked. “Do I get a say in that?” “Sure—you get t-to help make them.” I smiled dubiously. “Do I at least get a say in when?” “I think it's a little late f-for that. We’ve already started.” “But I get a say in the next.” “Of course.” “We do it together this time. I want to experience it all. I want to hold your hair back

when you're puking your guts up. I want to hear the heartbeat for the first time. I want to watch you get fat. I want to feel him moving inside of you. I want to hold your hand when you're pushing him out. But first…” Staring down at me, he grinned crookedly. “First?” “I just want to fuck a whole lot. Days in bed. Naked. Just me and you.” “Such a romantic.” He shrugged blithely. “I want you to myself for a while before we divide our time further.” Brushing his lips against mine, he circled his hips. I recoiled, pressing my ass against the mattress in retreat. I was beginning to worry I’d never be the same. It would be just my luck that my dreams and my worst nightmare had come true simultaneously. I finally had Carter Strickland in my bed, and we were never going to be able to have sex again. “As long as we can start tomorrow,” I qualified. “Tonight.” “This isn’t a debate.” “Is now.” “In the morning.” “Tonight. When you put the kid to bed.”

“In the morning. I’m up at the crack of dawn.” “I’m up all night long.” He wasn’t referring to his level of lucidity. “Even athletes take time to rest. Twentyfour on, twenty-four off.” “I’ll give you twelve.” “Carter…I think you seriously murdered my vagina.” “You’re really serious.” “Yes!” “I thought you were pulling my leg.” “So I could blow you?” “Well…” “Blind and dense,” I reiterated. “I swear it.” “Regardless, midnight rolls around, I’m just going to roll you over and poke you in your sleep.” My mouth popped open, indignant. Carter pressed a kiss to my nose before pushing off the bed. “Relax, Angel, it’s not permanent.” “You could at least look contrite.” “I might feel contrite, but you said it was worth it.” The jerk was smug. Damned if he didn’t have a right to be. He’d rode me well. I was going to feel him for days. With leisure, he tucked himself

into his jeans and zipped himself up. Something green was peeking from his pocket. Using his index and middle finger, he stuffed them deeper inside. The irony wasn’t lost on me. He was always stuffing those fingers into my bikinis. What confounded and thrilled me was that he took them in the first place. “What’re you doing with those?” “Holding myself over until midnight.” Smirking, he winked and walked out the door. The hitch in his step, had nothing to do with his prosthetic. Rising from the bed, I retrieved my shorts from the floor and walked to the dresser for a fresh pair of bikinis. The drawer tended to stick, but gave with a firm tug. One neatly bundled, and one notso-neatly bundled diaper slid toward me, the odor hitting me in the face like an open palm. Carter. I was so going to make him suffer.

Chapter 24 Y

“ ou’re going to make us late!” I complained. I’d strived to have Iain packed up and in his car seat so that we’d be on time. I hated being the last one to walk through the door of a party. Tate was having his annual summer bash. Everyone was invited, even Bratty Mattie. “I need these papers so I can tie up everything with the house and Gram’s will,” Jake explained, rifling through the hutch. “Just go. We’ll be right behind you.” “Did you check the safe?” Jake looked up from behind the cabinet door. “What safe?” “The one under the bathtub.” “I didn’t know Gram had a safe.” “I don't know that she does either,” I admitted. “But the night she visited me in the hospital, she t-told me t-to t-tell you the papers were in the safe under the bathtub.” Jake frowned. “She didn't visit you in the hospital, Mattie.” I shrugged, choosing to believe the

unbelievable. “Go look.” “Fuck it.” Interest piqued, Carter headed toward the bedroom. “I’m going to look.” “Shit.” Standing, Jake brushed himself off and followed. “He’s going to demolish the plumbing. The only constructive bone in his body is the deconstructive one.” Paisley and I trailed after them. Carter was already on the floor, pocket knife in hand. He ran it along four continuous tiles, in a large square. Then pushed the knife in and pried the panel away. Setting the panel off to the side, he stuck his arm into the space, patting around. “Find anything?” Jake asked. Another second passed before Carter’s face lit up. He ducked down, stuck his other hand into the hole, and extracted a small, white box. “Holy shit!” “I don't believe it,” Jake exclaimed. “You must’ve heard her mention it before. There's no other explanation.” Because God forbid I was right. That would just blow his puny little brain. “Puny?” Jake protested. “Just because I don't believe Gram came back and visited you from the grave doesn't make my brain small.” Well, crap, had I said that aloud? “No, it

just makes you close minded.” “Not to interrupt,” Paisley interjected. “But who has the key?” “There’s a key box in the kitchen,” Jake answered. It was an old cigar box that Gram threw all her extra keys into. Some were skeleton keys from the original locks on the house. Others were for the car or the mailbox. Most were useless. Carter handed Jake the safe and followed him from the room. In the kitchen, Jake pulled the cigar box and began rummaging through the contents. Some keys had identification tags. We had no such luck. Jake started trying random keys until he found the correct one. “The moment of truth,” he said as he opened the lid to the safe. I felt somewhat intrusive going through Gram’s personal belongings, but she had wanted us to find the thing. She’d known we’d need the contents, enough that she’d come back to make its whereabouts known. From inside, Jake pulled a stack of envelopes. “I’ll be damned. They’re all here.” He rested the stack on his arm and began paging through them. “Believe me now?” I asked, smugly. “No.” About halfway through the pile of envelopes, Jake plucked two out. He passed the

first to me, and the second to Carter. “What’s this?” Carter wondered. “You have as much of a clue as I do,” Jake replied. “But it has your name on it.” “Open it,” I prompted. Curiosity was eating at me. Carter stared at the envelope a moment longer, folded it in half, and stuffed it in his back pocket. “Later.” “Come on!” I pleaded. Gram, my Gram, wrote him a letter and he wasn’t going to let me read it. “It’s personal,” Carter refused, “and it was addressed to me.” I gasped in indignation. “Children,” Jake chided. “Play nice. Mattie, you have your own envelope to open.” That, I did. It was thick. My guess was pictures. Carter’s phone chirped. He pulled it from his pocket, swiped the screen. “We’re late, officially. Jess and Richard beat us to Tate’s house.” Jake grabbed the safe from the counter and wedged it under his arm. “All right—let’s get this show on the road.”

As Carter reached down and loaded his arms with baby provisions, I eyed the envelope sticking out of his pocket. It taunted me even more than my own. I had to know what was inside. What could Gram have possibly had to say to him? “You can try to filch it, but you know I’ll catch you. Even with my arms full.” Pouting, I headed for the door. “Forgetting something, Angel?” Doubling back, I lifted the car seat from the floor, ignoring Carter’s amusement. Yes, in my single-mindedness, I’d forgotten Iain. Carter headed toward the rear to put our bags into the cargo area, while I snapped the car seat into the base. “We’ll catch you over there,” Jake called as they headed to their car. I waved absently, climbing into the passenger seat. Trying to decide if I wanted to open my envelope was like asking whether I wanted to open a gift on Christmas Eve. There was no question about it. I pulled it from my purse. It didn't smell of Gram’s perfume or anything romantic like that. Though, Gram’s scrawl across the front did pluck at my heartstrings. It was new, crisp, white. It hadn’t been in the safe very long.

Sliding my finger under the seal, I pulled along the edge, ripping the envelope open. There were about a dozen photos inside, roughly. I pulled them out, turned them in my hand. The first was of me. It was flattering. I was young. Maybe ten. My hair was in a ponytail. Loose strands framed my face, which was flushed with sun. Pale freckles dotted my cheeks. I flipped the photo to the back of the stack. The second was of me too. I was twelve in this photo. I remember because the band had played at my birthday party. Half my grade had come. My eyes were closed, my cheeks puffed out as I blew out the candles. Carter, himself, had taken the picture. He’d asked me afterward what I’d wished for. I promptly flushed with color and swore to take it to my grave. “You never did tell me what you wished for,” Carter said. I looked up from the photo. He was sliding behind the wheel, staring over my shoulder. “If I told you, it wouldn’t come true.” I flipped to the next photo. It was another perfectly composed piece of art. Once again, I was the subject. As was the next, and the next, and so on. In each, I aged chronologically, six months, a year older. The last, I was eighteen, graduated. I was using my middle finger to shield my face from the

click of the shutter. “I understand the reason for the attitude now,” Carter mused. “About four years late. Did you take all of these?” I held the pictures up in question. I knew he’d taken some of them. Carter’s phone was always in his hand. Not to mention, it was hard not to notice him snapping a picture of me when I was always watching him. But, surprisingly, I was unaware that I’d been the focus of his camera on this many occasions. “And how did my gram end up with them?” “Yes, and I thought she might enjoy them.” “Why?” Did he take them, I meant. I didn’t get it. They were intimate, not the average snapshot. “Angel, I wasn’t completely blind,” Carter said as if I was dense. “You might’ve been off limits, but you were always beautiful.” Cupping my chin, he tilted my head up to accept his kiss. Oh, could he kiss. He could make you feel like…well, weightless and reedy. Insubstantial. Reduced of emotion other than raw and wanton need. He made love to your mouth, took from it at his will. Abandoning my lips, his teeth scraped my jaw, closed over it with a soft pinch. “Up for a redo

of that morning in Missoula?” he said between nips. “I’ll do much better this time. Swear.” Flattening my palm against his chest, I pushed him back in his seat. He grinned crookedly, reached down and pulled the lever, reclining the back as I threw my leg over the console and straddled his waist. “That morning was perfect until you shoved me out of the car.” “Then there’s room for improvement in the after-sex cuddling.” “You don’t cuddle. You collapse.” “What can I say—I give it my all.” Sliding the thin strap of my dress over my shoulder, it puddled around my waist. “I think I really like this dress.” Staring up at me, he cupped my breasts, circled my nipples with his thumbs. I moaned, putty under his hands. “I need you in me, Carter.” “Always impatient.” “I don’t care. When you kiss me, it’s all I think about.” Laughing at me, Carter reached down and freed himself from his shorts. The head of his cock slipped against my entrance as he stroked himself. I angled my hips, hoping to guide him in. “Not yet,” Carter chided. “Need to get a

glove on first.” “I don’t care,” I pouted. “I want it. Now.” “We agreed on this. One year.” Reaching into the console, he fished around, scoring a string of condoms in gold foil. I didn’t remember agreeing to one year, but it was a shadow in the background of my mind. I was in need, a raw, physical need that could only be relieved by his cock. Swearing, Carter pinched the tip and rolled the condom on. “Come here, Angel.” As he positioned himself, I guided my hips down until he was nudging into my entrance. He grasped my hips, bracing me as he thrust his hips upward. My body exploded with pleasure. Goosebumps rose across my skin. I mewled, fucking mewled. I didn’t even have the dignity to be embarrassed. That was the effect he had on me. Part of me had the pleasure of knowing he was just as lost as I was. He didn’t bother with foreplay. We’d barely started, and he was racing toward the end. Slipping my hand between my thighs, I worked on my own release, massaging my clit between my fingers. My breath became labored, coming out in faint moans. Carter increased his pace, his fingertips digging into my hips. Heat rushed to my

groin, burgeoned in pressure. “Oh God! Carter!” Carter growled, spurred by my approaching orgasm. His pace changed. Gone was the fevered rhythm, replaced by determined thrusts. Each resounded with a staccato clap of flesh. “Fuck, Angel!” Drawing me toward him, he stretched his neck and pulled my nipple into his mouth, sending me over the edge. Ladies first. He always kept his word. Seeing that I was taken care of, he thrust once, twice more, and reached his own peak. Several well-versed curses hissed between his teeth. For a moment we didn’t move, remaining still except for our panting. “Is it always this encompassing?” I wondered. Carter laughed. “No.” “Do you think it’ll ever fade?” I’d seen it in movies, but not having parents, it was difficult to tell. I couldn't imagine not wanting him this much. I'd already wanted him half my life. “I hope the fuck not.” “Me t-too.” Laughing, I wiped a bead of sweat from my forehead. The air was on, but apparently sex was a great callisthenic. The late July humidity didn’t help. “Do you want to run inside and clean up?”

I peeked at the car seat. Iain was still sleeping from what I could tell. “I'll just be a minute.” I pressed a kiss to Carter’s lips. It was meant to be a quick peck, but Carter had a different mind. He lured me into a more profound, though brief venture filled with knee deep emotion. No, I could fathom ever tiring of his affection. Not in a million years. “I love you, Angel.” I smiled back, steeped in the euphoria of his words. “I love you, too.” “Go on. Everyone will wonder what we were up to.” He clapped my ass with his palm, making me jump. “They'll assume anyhow.” Threading the straps of my dress over my shoulders, I climbed off his lap and over the console. Photographs littered the floor. I was careful not to tread on them as I pushed the door open and slid out. Quickly, I picked the photos up and sat them on the seat. Then, I hurried into the house. We were running late, and I wanted to see Em. More importantly, Sophia Isabella. Em had spent a week visiting her at the foster home, getting to know her. And last week she’d brought her home. She wanted a solid week alone to bond with her before she tossed her into our crazy world. Today

was that day. We were going to welcome her to the Hautboy family. Tate had even moved the date for the picnic to accommodate the event. Trotting through the kitchen, I reset the alarm and ran out the back door. Carter was just stuffing his letter back into the envelope as I opened the door to the car. I picked the pictures up as I climbed into the seat. “What did it say—or aren't you going to tell me?” In answer, he held up his hand. There was a ring pinched between his fingers. “Apparently there's another ring belonging to your family. This one hailed from your father’s side.” It was god awful ugly. It looked like a molar, a big yellow molar set in gold. It might've been an opal of some sort. I wasn't sure. Unbeknownst to my taste, Carter leaned closer to me. The ring perched in his fingers before my face. “Marry me.” “What?” It was joke. He had to be kidding. Laughing, he turned the ring in his fingers. “Marry me.” My face fell, the draw of my mouth unbearably heavy. “That's not f-ff-funny.” “Angel, I'm asking you to be my wife.” “You're serious.” He really was. God help

me—I was going to be stuck with a molar on my finger because there was no way I was going to say no. “I'm starting to worry here,” he pressed. “I really didn't think you'd have to consider it.” “Yes.” Smiling widely, he grasped my hand and slid the ring onto my finger. “Look at that! It fits perfectly!” “It's uh…” I searched for something nice to say, found nothing. “It’s absolutely priceless.” “It's a paste stone, whatever that is. Gram said it's not worth a lot, but you'd love it because it was heirloom.” Gram was wise, but also had a really wicked sense of humor. She was probably watching down over us right now, having herself a good laugh. Whatever. Fuck the ring. Carter just asked me to marry him. As reality set in and shock wore off, my eyes filled with tears. I covered my mouth while I stared at the ring. I could still feel the touch of his hand from sliding the ring onto my finger. “What's wrong?” Carter asked, dumbfounded. “It's the ring—you really hate it, don't you?” I laughed, thick with tears. “I do hate the

ring, but I love it at the same t-time.” “Is it too soon? I know it was a little impulsive, but…” I grasped his hand, stopping him short. He looked vulnerable, if that was possible. Carter was an antonym for defenseless, so his uncertainty was saying a lot. “You're everything I ever wanted, Carter. I love you.” Relieved, a lazy smile spread across his face. “I’m going to make you happy, Angel.” “You already have.” “You’re being generous. I’ve barely made up for screwing up so bad. You shouldn’t have let me off so easily.” “I’ve acted badly myself.” “Just saying—I’m going to spoil you.” “Why do I f-feel like I should be afraid?” “Because I don’t do anything quietly.” “Right.” Shifting the car into drive, Carter coasted up the driveway. I sat quietly, agonizing over what he could have planned. Nothing too over the top. I’d only been in the house a few minutes. What could he have possibly contrived in that short amount of time? I glanced at my ring again. Stupid question.

Carter was adept at performing the impossible. “You’re being quiet.” Draping his left hand over the steering wheel, he grasped my hand in his right. “Did you envision something different? I disappointed you, didn't I?” “I had a million proposals envisioned,” I admitted, “but nothing compared t-to yours. I wouldn't change it f-for the world.” Carter spared a glance in my direction before turning back to the road. “Really?” “It was spontaneous, Carter. It meant more than anything planned with weeks of preparation.” Lifting my hand to his mouth, he pressed a kiss to it. “We’ll do whatever you want for the wedding. You want a big event; we’ll spare no expense.” “I don’t need a big wedding.” Jake was my only family. Gram was gone. I had a few friends from college, but they always got weird when Jake came around, let alone the entire band. I wanted the day to be about the two of us. Just something private and quaint. “Just the gang then?” “Are we seriously planning this now?” I inquired, laughing.

“What…?” Carter objected, defensively. “I thought girls went crazy for this shit! You're not saying anything! It makes me nervous.” “I'm happy, Carter. It’s just…” “You're afraid if you talk about it, it won't come true?” Grinning widely, he glanced at me again, looking for confirmation that his hunch was correct. “I will neither confirm nor deny.” I wasn't ruining my one chance at happiness because I, after a decade’s worth of cakes and candles, revealed my one and only birthday wish. “Oh my god, I’m right!” Cackling ensued, clearly pleased with himself. “Can I just absorb this single moment before jumping into wedding planning?” I pleaded. “I want to remember everything, every little detail f-f-from the smell of your cologne to the emotions running through me. This only happens once.” “Why can’t I bask a little? It’s not every day I’m someone’s birthday wish.” “Oh puleeze—you’re every girl’s birthday wish. Not that I’m saying you were my birthday wish. I’m just reasserting that I’m not the only girl t-to f-fawn over you.” “What if I bask quietly?”

“You don’t do anything quietly,” I reminded him. We drove not a half mile before he started humming the birthday song. “Carter!” I shouted, pulling my hand from his. “I’m sorry!” “You’re not sorry! You’re laughing!” “I’ll stop! Swear!” The fool covered his mouth, hiding his smile, oblivious that his crow’s feet were betraying his efforts. “Just give me a minute to compose myself.” “You’re an idiot.” Rummaging through my bag, I fished out a pack of gum from the bottom. It was necessary to refrain from grinding my teeth. “Can I ask one question first?” he inquired. “Please? Just one.” “And then you’ll leave me in peace so I can wrap my mind around this?” “Swear.” “Ok. Fffine,” I allowed. “One question.” “You want something small and intimate, right?” “Carter!” I threw my hands up in the air, exasperated. “Yes—ok—something small—just the gang! I don’t need a large, f-flashy wedding with a million photographers commemorating the event! I don’t need a dozen bridesmaids or groomsmen! Just

you and me! Ok?” “Ok.” “I’d like t-to pick out the wedding band,” I amended. If I was lucky, I’d find something big enough that I’d have an excuse to why I couldn’t wear the molar along with it. “You’re firm on that?” “Immovable.” Carter turned his head back to the road, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. “A simple yes or no would have sufficed.” A smile snaked across my face. “I’m sorry.” “No, you’re not.” “No, I’m not,” I admitted. “You’re pressuring me. I snap when I’m being pressured. This is a lot t-to t-take in. Everything ffeels…surreal. You can’t be blind to someone your whole life and not be overwhelmed when he asks you t-to marry him.” Carter coasted to a stop, despite being a few feet shy of Tate’s driveway. “Do you trust me, Angel?” I looked up, met his eyes. “With my life.” Carter leaned over and kissed me. “Let’s not test that, ok? Once is enough.” Pressing the gas,

he approached the gate and gave the horn a honk. The gates swung open with a yawning sweep. We pulled around the driveway, parked at the only open space available. I slid out of the car, unbuckled Iain—and Brutus—from his car seat while Carter got the bag and playpen from the trunk. As I rounded the car, though, he was waiting empty-handed. “What about the stuff?” I asked. “I’ll come back for it.” He held his hand out. “We won't need it right away. Once Jess takes him from you, she isn’t likely to put him down.” Taking his hand, I let him lead me around the side of the house. Voices, young and old, echoed from the yard. Music blasted from the speakers. The smell of barbecue hung in the air. It wasn’t the first time the band had seen us together, but it was the first time we were arriving together as a couple. I was somewhat selfconscious beneath my waning shock. As soon as Jess spotted us, she rose from her chair and intercepted us at the gate. “We came from Pennsylvania and we still beat you here,” Jess quipped. Reaching, she waited for my assent before stealing my security blanket from me. I was left with Brutus, who wasn't much of anything. “What took you so long?”

“We forgot something at the house,” Carter explained. “Had to run back inside.” Jess looked at him, her expression calling bullshit. “Is that why your zipper’s down?” Smiling crookedly, Carter checked his zipper. “It is not.” “Come here, idiot.” Jess beckoned him forward with a curl of her fingers. “You have something on your face.” Reaching up, she rubbed at the corner of his mouth. “What is it?” “Guilt.” Yet it was my face that flushed ten shades of red. Rolling his eyes, Carter knocked her hand away. “Everyone here?” “Now that you're here.” Carter tugged my hand, leading me through the gate. Jess followed us through, but circled around us as we paused to take in the scene. Shane had Sophia in the pool. She was giggling, but clinging to him like a baby monkey. Levi wasn't far away, paddling with only his floaties. Tate stood off to the side in the shade, chatting with Jake, Paisley, Peter, and Jaxon. Em and Coop were oddly missing, but knowing Em, she

was likely inside prepping lunch, and Coop was probably with the twins. “Come here, Angel.” Bending his knees, Carter wrapped his arms around my thighs and lifted me off the ground. “What’re you doing?” I gasped, grabbing his head to keep my balance. “Watch the hair!” “Carter!” He took a step to the right, lifted me a little higher. Something solid scraped the bottom of my feet. “Stand up, Angel!” Carter laughed. “Let go of my hair!” “I’m going to f-fall!” “You’re not going to fall! Stand up!” Testing my balance, I let go of his hair and straightened my back. I was atop the stone wall lining the patio. Carter planted one hand on the wall and vaulted up beside me. He made it look effortless, even with only one leg. Taking my hand in his, he let out a strident whistle, gathering everyone’s attention. What eyes weren't already on us, turned in our direction. My face flushed with a fresh burst of color. “Today—despite all the obstacles we’ve faced—and overcome—I have the honor to say

that Miss Matilda Mae Whalen has agreed to be my wife.” Cheers and applause echoed across the yard. Everyone began rounding the pool to offer their congratulations. Carter pulled me against him, dipped his head for a kiss. When our lips parted again, his eyes were bright with excitement. “This is just the beginning, Angel.” Considering our recent engagement, one would assume he was referring to our lives together, but I knew Carter, and his tone was pregnant with mischief. I had a feeling I was going to need that molar on my finger at the rate I was grinding my teeth. I was never one for surprises.

Chapter 25 Em twisted my hand this way and that way, inspecting my ring. “It’s um…unique,” Em appraised, trying to be polite. “It’s ugly,” I scoffed. “You can say it.” Holding up my hand, I let the sun glint off it, as if seeing it in a different light might reveal some hidden luster to the stone. I had no such luck. The surface was flat and lifeless. “I keep expecting t-to notice something attractive about it.” “In that case,” Em added, “she must really love you, Carter. That's absolutely the most hideous engagement ring in history, and she still said yes.” “It looks like a tooth,” Coop observed. Brutus was nuzzled against her chin. He was her living stole. I was fairly sure at this point, that I wasn’t going to get my dog back. Or my dignity for that matter. Coop had just confirmed my theory that my finger was sporting a molar handed down through generations of Whalens. “It’s a family heirloom,” Carter scoffed. “You can’t put a value on something like that.” Jabbing a thumb over his shoulder, he gestured to the cooler. “I’m going to grab a beer. You want

anything, Angel?” “Tea. Lots of—” “Ice,” Carter predicted. “So attentive,” Em praised. She smirked over her glass of wine. “I didn’t think he could be domesticated.” “If there’s one thing I know, it’s food.” Carter winked before he walked away. He looked comfortable in his prosthetic again, his swagger returned. “He looks proud.” Coop grinned, rocking back on her heels. As an afterthought, she hid her smile behind Brutus’s coat of fur. “You can’t have him, you know,” I said bluntly. A moron could see she was growing attached. I wasn’t about to let her filch my son’s dog. Coop’s nose wrinkled. “Ew!” “I’m talking about my dog.” My eyes rolled, a reflex action when I realized my gaffe. “You’re completely infatuated with him.” “I’m just borrowing him,” Coop assured. “I don’t want to keep him.” “Can we get back to the ring,” Em interrupted. “I want to know how this all went down. Did he have it all planned? Was it

romantic?” “It was completely impromptu,” I explained. “Jake was ransacking the house f-for the deed, and I remembered Gram t-telling me about the safe—” “God help me,” Jake groaned. “I’m telling you, Gram mentioned it somewhere else!” “You believe whatever you want, Jake,” I argued, “but she was there! She touched my hand! I could smell her perfume!” “You hit your head!” “I’m lost,” Em admitted. She glanced to Coop, who shrugged her shoulders. “Me too.” “The day you visited me in the hospital— the day I choked on the t-tiramisu,” I explained. “My gram came t-to visit me.” “From the dead,” Jake added, cluing them in. “Gram died weeks before.” “Merda,” Em gasped. Her eyes were wide as saucers. “I swear I felt something when I was leaving! The hairs on my arms stood up!” As if she could still feel it, she touched her arm. I yelped in excitement, jumping in place. “She passed you on the way in! Oh my God! In your fffface, Jake! What did I t-t-tell you!”

Jake shook his head, remaining resolutely in denial. “I can’t believe it!” I exclaimed. “You still don’t believe me!” Whatever. I knew. That’s all that counted. I didn’t need his assent to feel sane. “So what did she say?” Em asked. “She mentioned something about a safe…?” Someone believed me, at least. “When she was leaving, she said to tell Jake the papers he was looking for were in the safe in the utility panel under the tub.” “Were they?” “Exactly where she said! We opened it just before we came.” “Which is where we got this…” Carter passed me my glass of iced tea, then reached into his back pocket and extracted the envelope. “The ring was inside, along with a letter. But it’s this that sold me.” He extracted the letter and unfolded it. Holding it up in front of Jake’s face, he pointed to the upper right corner. “There’s only so much you can write off to coincidence, man. It’s dated the eighteenth, the same day Mattie swears Gram visited her.” Jake took the letter from Carter’s hand, peering at the date scribed along the edge. “She could've postdated it.”

“Marone!” Em sighed. “He’s dense.” “It’s f-f-fine,” I said, stepping in. I wasn’t about to ruin a perfect day by arguing. If he didn’t want to be a believer, his loss. Snatching the letter from Jake’s hand, I ambled toward the tree, poring over Gram’s scrawl. My chest tightened, stealing the air from my lungs. The ache of loss was still raw. God, I missed her. Carter, Clearly, if you’re reading this, it’s your turn to take care of our girl. She’s yours now. Love her. Hold her close. Cherish every moment you have with her. We both know it's not often you get second chances. The ring I leave you is a Whalen family heirloom. It’s not of monetary value, just a simple paste stone, but she’ll treasure it if not just for the laugh. Love, Gram P.S. If she says yes, you'll know she loves you. It's the most God awful piece of jewelry I've ever set eyes on. “It’s hard to grasp,” Jake said quietly. He joined me under the tree. We sat on the bench in

the shade. “Part of me doesn’t want to believe it.” “Why?” I asked, folding the letter. “It dredges up old feelings, things I let go of a long time ago.” Reaching down, he scooped a wayward caterpillar from the bench and placed it into the grass. “You don’t know how many times I prayed at night to see Mom and Dad again.” “I did too.” “I know. Your room was next to mine. You were loud.” “I wanted them t-to hear me.” “So did I.” He managed a weak smile, though fleeting. “I just wanted some small sign that they were watching. A shooting star. A song on the radio. Something so unmistakable or personal that it couldn’t be written off. I used to get so angry when they didn’t answer. Jesus.” Shaking his head, he sighed heavily. “I felt abandoned. Like they didn’t care.” “It was easier t-to doubt your f-faith than tto think they didn’t love us,” I surmised. “I f-felt the same way, Jake. Up until that night in the hospital, I really didn’t think there was anything beyond our own nerve impulses. There was no heaven or hell. When we were gone, we t-turned tto dust. There were no souls. No afterlife.” I shrugged, at a loss. “I don’t know. Maybe I did just

hit my head t-too hard, but she sure f-felt real.” “Maybe she was,” Jake granted. “Gram was always a force to be reckoned with.” “Maybe Mom and Dad knew they left us in good hands,” I theorized. “They never answered us because they were at peace.” “Maybe.” Jake smiled and tugged me against him. I rested my head on his shoulder, watching the others around us. “I still can’t believe she’s gone.” “Me neither,” Jake agreed. “I thought she’d live forever. She seemed omnipotent.” “It was quick, wasn’t it?” I asked. I dreaded the question. I felt indirectly responsible. The stress of the accident couldn’t have been good for her heart. “She didn’t suffer?” Jake snorted. “I dare say she died with a smile on her face. She was in bed with Mr. Doyle, mid-coitus.” I gasped in shock. “No!” “Apparently so.” “Oh my God!” I couldn’t believe it. I was shocked and in wonder at the same time. Indignity trumped them both. “And here I was f-feeling guilty.”

“Why would you feel guilty?” Jake asked, befuddled. “Because I assumed she was stressed over the accident.” I’d grossly imagined her passing right at my bedside. “She was, but it wasn’t a factor. She and Mr. Doyle got good and stoned, popped a few Viagra, and went at it like a couple of teens on prom night.” “Jesus!” I swore. “Gram got stoned?” “Regularly.” “I had no idea.” “She didn’t exactly advertise it. I’m surprised she mentioned it to Paisley.” Paisley knew, while I had no idea. My relationship with Gram became a sudden enigma. Did I know her at all? I’d thought we were as thick as thieves. I told her everything. “She missed you while you were at school,” Jake explained. “Paisley was at her disposal.” It made sense. Paisley worked at the retirement center where Gram resided. “How long was she sleeping with this Mr. Doyle?” “Not sure.” Jake shrugged. “At least a few months. Though, likely longer. I saw a set of

dentures in the bathroom about a year ago.” “Ew.” “Yeah…well.” Jake wasn’t thrilled with the discovery himself. I laughed to myself. “She’ll have some explaining t-to do t-to Grandpa.” “He made her promise to live a little. She kept her word.” “I suppose she did. Mr. Doyle will certainly gain a little notoriety.” “He’s being hailed as ‘The Lady Killer.’ Paisley’s already hearing whispers from the other patients.” “How scandalous.” “Gram would’ve loved it.” “Yeah.” Giggling, I shook my head. Jake patted my arm. Garnering our attention, Carter cackled at something one of the girls said. His head was tilted back with unrestrained amusement. “So, are you really going to marry this clown?” “Without hesitation.” “He makes you happy.”

“Most of the t-time.” “The rest of the time?” “I shake my head in disappointment while watching him gag over a dirty diaper.” “I could’ve warned you over that. He always conveniently vanished when it was his turn to clean the gas chamber.” Anyone in their right mind would’ve vanished over head-cleaning duty. “Why didn’t you just hire someone?” “They refused.” Jake shook with laughter. “Can’t say I blame them. I wouldn’t touch it by a mile after Tate’s eaten a few Slim Jims.” Gently lifting my hand, he took a long gander at my ring. “It really is awful.” “That’s the consensus.” “Carter loves a good joke.” “So did Gram. Guess she got the last laugh.” “She would’ve been happy for you.” “What about you, Jake?” Call me a fool, but I actually wanted his approval. He was my big brother. Don’t get me wrong, it wouldn’t stop me from marrying Carter, but it would give me a sense of peace and acceptance. “Are you happy f-f-for me?”

“I’m cautiously optimistic. I think he actually cares about you.” “That’s generous of you.” “I’ve said it before, Mattie. Nobody will ever be good enough for you. You’re my little sister.” I frowned, turning my glass in my hand. “He’s gaining ground, ok?” Jake caved. “Just don’t tell him that. He’ll start slacking.” “I’ll keep him on his t-toes,” I assured. “You don’t have t-to worry about that.” “Good.” Letting go of my hand, he tipped my nose. “You’re probably one of the rare few that can.” Jake started to rise, but I grasped his arm, stopping him. “You’ll give me away, right? You’ll walk me up the aisle?” “I’d be insulted if you asked anyone else.” “I never considered it.” If Jake wouldn’t do it, I wouldn’t have asked anyone else. He was the last of my family. It wouldn’t feel right. “I’ve had to play the heavy all these years. You can’t take away the indulgences. We have to have something to look back and smile on.” “Like bringing the air horn to the

commencement ceremonies?” Every time the speeches grew too long, I’d set it off. It set Mr. Bard off when I barely let him get a single word out. Jake smiled, but shook his head. “I had to make a generous donation to get your diploma after that stunt.” “I guess karma caught up with me in college.” I walked up the aisle to receive my bachelor’s degree looking like I was hiding a beach ball under my gown. Mr. Bard would’ve relished my fall from grace. Glancing over at Jake, I expected to find his disapproval. “I’m proud of you, Mattie,” he said, surprising me. “I might not say it very often, but I am. You graduated despite everything you were facing. A lot of others would’ve quit.” “Good thing I’m determined when I want something.” Carter cackled again, drawing our attention. I wasn’t without my regrets. My determination had failed me where he was concerned. My selfconfidence had taken a nose dive. I’d succumbed to my doubts and fears. I’d been weak when I should’ve fought harder. “It all worked out in the end,” Jake assured. “No point in dwelling on the past.”

“I know.” Easier said than done. “I’m sorry I gave you such a hard time.” I returned my focus to Jake, checking his expression. Something was amiss. He was being unusually amenable. “You’re not going inside t-to call the doctor or something, are you? I was cleared weeks ago. My head is f-fine. I’m not delusional.” “Though I still question your choice in men,” Jake said, standing, “I don’t think it deems you insane.” He chucked my shoulder before striding off to stand by Paisley. Taking a long draw of my tea, I stood and followed him. Cooper was finishing up a story about the twins, Tate’s sleepless trek to their room, his big toe, and the foot of his bureau. “Broken?” Carter asked. “Seriously?” “I shit you not,” Tate swore. “It hurt worse than anything I’ve ever felt. I was curled up on the floor, cursing like a banshee.” “You obviously haven’t had Coop knee you in the balls.” “I’ve apologized for that a dozen times,” Coop protested, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m not apologizing again.” “Don’t let him push your buttons, babe,” Tate said consolingly. “It’s his own fault. He was

supposed to keep you from leaving. Not corner you in the parking lot.” “Fuck you both,” Carter scoffed. I laughed, to which Carter replied with a slap on the ass. I gasped and retaliated with an elbow in his gut. I hadn’t hit him hard, but he indulged me with a gust of breath. Curling his back, his hand flew to his stomach. I turned just in time to see him take a step back. He lost his balance, teetered on the edge of the pool. My gaze met his as he reached out and grabbed the closest thing to him. Me. Next thing I knew, we were both hitting the water.

Chapter 26 T

“ his one,” Coop said. She held the long, linen dress in the air, eyeing it appreciatively. It was an off-white dress with spaghetti straps and an empire waist. “Nora picked it up for me. I haven’t worn it yet.” “I couldn’t,” I declined. It was a gift. I didn’t want to take the chance of staining it. “Sure you can,” Coop disagreed. “Yours is wet.” Walking into the bathroom, she hooked it over the door. “There’s makeup remover in the vanity. Your mascara ran a little.” She downplayed the state up my makeup. I looked like a junkie coming down off a marathon high. Plucking a cotton ball from the jar on the sink, I squeezed a little solution onto it, and began wiping my eyes. “So much for waterproof,” I complained. “Waterproof is a misconception,” Paisley voiced. “Sure, it repels water, just not the chlorine in it. I hate chlorine.” “For f-f-forty-five dollars a tube, it should repel the power of Satan.” “Funny, I thought you wanted to marry

him.” I turned, and found Paisley smirking, her eyes dancing with laughter. I smiled back. “You know what they say, don’t you?” “It’s better to laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints,” Coop chimed melodically, quoting Billy Joel. “The sinners are much more fun. Only the good die young.” My smile widened, encouraged by Coop’s voice. “Oh my God, Coop! You sound f-ffantastic!” She shrugged and waved her hand. “I started voice therapy a couple weeks ago. I’m not allowed to really sing yet. We’re taking it ‘slow’.” She air-quoted the word with annoyance. “Hey, you can’t rush perfection.” “Pfft.” Coop waved me off again and ambled farther into the bedroom. “She’s worried,” Paisley spelled out. “She swears her voice is different.” “It is different,” Coop insisted. Paisley abandoned the doorway to allay Coop’s fears. Around the corner, the door opened and closed again. Em and Jess came into the room, each with a child in their arms. I wondered why all the

company for changing a wet dress, but was too eager to meet Sophia Isabella to ask. She was a timid picture of olive skin and ebony curls. As she panned the room, taking in the strangers surrounding her, she rested her head against Em’s shoulder, hiding her face. One brown eye watched me curiously. “Oh Em,” I cooed, stepping out of the bathroom. “She’s precious!” “She’s a blessing.” My heart swelled as she craned her neck and pressed a kiss to the crown of Sophia’s head. “I’m so in love with her.” “Is she adjusting?” “She’s doing fantastic. I mean there are moments when she cries for her…him, but she sleeps through the night. She laughs. She plays. She eats healthy.” “And Shane?” Em laughed, her eyes sparkling with humor. “He’s adjusting.” “Can I hold her?” “She’s soaked. She just came out of the pool.” “So did I.” I held my hands out. Em stepped closer. Sophia leaned toward me and held her arms out. I lifted her under the arms, wedged my arm

under her butt. “Hi, precious!” She rewarded me by burying her face into my shoulder. I hugged her to me. “Oh, Em, I wanna keep her.” “I’d sooner cut you,” Em promised. “She actually likes me. There’s no chance in hell I’m ever giving her up.” “Whoa, Don Corleone,” I cautioned. “No need t-t-to get violent.” Em shrugged, unperturbed. “She’s all mine.” “You’d think I’d get something, a finder’s fee.” Across the room, Coop shook her head. “I still can’t believe it. Even I—the Queen of Cosmic Intuition—couldn’t have imagined something this inconceivable.” “I agree with Richard,” Jess added, “I think you’re all beautiful.” “We should toast,” Coop suggested. Placing Brutus on the duvet, she rose from the bed and plucked a bottle of champagne from an ice bucket atop the dresser. “You and Tate planning a private celebration t-tonight?” I asked. Awful convenient to have a bottle of chilled champagne at hand. Beside the basin, I counted six flutes. Perhaps she was

planning a group event. Coop blinked, and then smiled slowly. “Tate and I have a private celebration every night. When all three kids are sleeping at one time, I’d say it’s just cause for a glass of bubbly.” “It’s a blessing when one is sleeping,” Jess agreed. “I can’t imagine dealing with three. I’ll toast to that.” Coop popped the cork. Unlike the boys, she was able to do it without posing a danger to the room’s occupants. There was a small pop and a minimal loss of alcohol. “We’re having Sophia baptized in two weeks,” Em spoke up. “Her father had her baptized, of course. But this ceremony will serve a few purposes. Part of her father’s stipulations were that she be raised in the Catholic faith, and that she will never know his identity. Hence, if we have her baptized again, our names will appear on the certificate. I would’ve had it done in any case. She’s having the second surgery in three weeks. It would give me a piece of mind to have her blessed beforehand. That said, Shane and I would like you to be her Godmother.” “Me?” I said, taken aback. I thought surely she would ask Coop. They were best friends. More than best friends.

“Paisley doesn’t like kids,” Em explained, a wry smile twisting the edge of her lips. “And Coop wasn’t the one with the bright idea that made this all possible.” “I’m not saying it again,” Paisley argued, though she did deign to explain her stance on childbearing. “I like kids; I just don’t want to raise them.” “Do you see what I’m dealing with here?” Em scoffed. “Does she not see the incongruity of not wanting children and acting as a guardian and spiritual mentor to Sophia in the event of my death?” “Well when you put it that way…” Paisley took a champagne flute from Coop’s hand and downed it in a few deep gulps, drowning out her chagrin. “I wouldn’t have Sophia if not for you,” Em said in earnest. “You have a big heart to have suggested the adoption, considering the circumstances. I can’t think of anyone any better suited to fill the role.” “In that case, I would love t-to,” I acquiesced. “I’m honored that you asked.” Em wrapped me in a light embrace. “Don’t be so shocked, Mattie.” “I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I just f-figured

you would’ve asked Coop. She’s practically ffamily.” “What’re you talking about?” Em pinched my cheek in the true act of an Italian. “You’re family, too.” Coop winked and passed me a flute of champagne. “Now let’s get back to that toast.” “Wait,” I pleaded, grasping Coop’s hand. “I have t-to get something off my chest f-first.” It had to be done. I needed my conscience clear. Dropping my head, I hid my frown. “I never apologized f-for instigating the f-fight with Amanda,” I managed, my voice quavering. “If I hadn’t opened my mouth, you never would’ve been hurt. I just wanted t-to say I’m sorry.” “We all have our moments of stupidity,” Em chastised, shocking me. That was a little harsh. My mouth popped open, aghast. “You’re obviously having yours right now.” “If anything, I should apologize to you,” Coop argued. “You ended up in the hospital because the man she hired mistook you for me.” “Still,” I pressed, “I’m just sorry I had any part in you getting hurt. It almost ended your career.” “You didn’t,” Coop asserted. “So, you have no need to apologize. Furthermore, if I wouldn’t

have gotten hurt, Jake never would’ve met Paisley, Tate’s parents wouldn’t have gotten back together, Em wouldn’t have Sophia…” “How can you be so…accepting?” “I’m in good health, and I can still sing,” Coop explained. “It doesn’t hurt that I married Tate. Or that Amanda Keller is behind bars. When I go to bed at night, I take comfort in the thought that she’s probably fending off some girl with summer teeth and a really bad perm. She’ll have a name like Destiny or…Candy.” I bit back a smile. I suppose that was satisfying. “She’s a drug mule, of course,” Coop continued. “Cousin Tiffany—pronounced Tiff-nay —comes to visit once a week. Hides a nice big rock of heroin in who-ville. Amanda—now known as Delilah—doesn’t have a problem getting it down. She has no gag reflex. Coming out the other end’s the problem. She’s too uptight. Good thing Candy keeps plenty of suppositories hidden in the loose post at the foot of the bed.” “You have a vivid imagination,” I observed concernedly. Coop smiled contritely. “Drives Tate nuts.” “We all wonder what goes on in that head of yours when you go blank like you do.” Em

shook her head in wonder. “I think I’m a little disturbed.” “The toast,” Jess reminded us, changing the subject. “It’s supposed to be a day of celebration. Let’s check all delinquents and criminals at the door for the afternoon. Focus on engagements, babies, and family. Who wants to go first?” “I will.” Em raised her glass. “To truly living, and not just surviving.” “To reaching for the stars,” Coop added, “and touching them.” Paisley. “To finding true love.” I raised my glass. “To wishes coming true.” “To Hautboy,” Jess concluded. “To Hautboy,” we all agreed. Our glass clashed, filling the room with tinkling chimes and laughter. The champagne was crisp and citrusy. I took Jess’s suggestion to heart and pushed all thoughts of Amanda and Christian from my mind, refusing to let them sour a good bottle of bubbly, let alone my day. Hiding behind her champagne, Coop giggled. It was strangely adventitious despite the levity. “Sorry,” she apologized, “I was thinking of all the attempts on my life—” “She’s officially lost it,” Em worried.

“There’re no longer any doubts when one laughs while referencing attempts on their life.” “If I didn’t laugh, I’d cry,” Coop replied. “But if it eases your minds, I was recalling Paisley slipping in dog shit and falling flat on her ass. I just can’t get the picture out of my head.” “Funny,” Paisley scoffed. “I was saving Em’s dogs.” “The only thing my dogs need saving from is their own stupidity,” Em observed. “The memory alone left a permanent stain on my skin,” Paisley complained. “Every time I think about it I have to wash my hands.” Resting her glass on the dresser, she headed for the bathroom to do just that. “You don’t have a nail brush, do you, Coop? Bleach?” “You’re a nurse and you’re grossed out by dog poo,” Em protested. She followed it up with a muttered, “I clean it up almost every other day.” “I wear gloves and a mask when I deal with patients,” Paisley explained. “I had it under my nails. It was in my hair. I washed it so many times, I thought it would be lavender by the time I got out of the shower.” As Paisley disappeared into the bathroom, I looked down at Sophia, who was yawning widely. “Em, I think somebody’s t-tired. Maybe you should

change her before she konks out.” Em’s eyes softened affectionately. She lifted Sophia from my hip, where I was left with a large damp circle slightly darker than my already damp dress. It was only water dripping from her swim trunks, still saturated from the pool. “You should change too,” Coop suggested. “Feel free to use the shower.” “Get the chlorine out of your hair before it turns green,” Paisley agreed. “Ooh! Coop has the best mango conditioner! You have to try it!” I looked at her worriedly. The girl had a serious obsession with her hair. “What?” Paisley protested. “There were times when I had to share a bottle of watered down dish soap with the fourteen other people in my house. I appreciate the finer things like a quality hair product.” “You should see her out shopping,” Em mused. Her eyes sparkled with humor. “She tests everything with such enthusiasm, the salesgirls flock the counters wielding merchandise like fans wield sharpies at a Hautboy concert.” “I live on a budget,” Paisley defended. She smiled, pouring herself a fresh glass of champagne. It was her third. “But not much longer. I quit yesterday. Well, gave my notice.”

“Oh. My. God!” Coop exclaimed. “You’re serious?” She stood on her toes, barely able to contain her excitement. Paisley nodded. “Jake’s been coaching me the past few months. You’re looking at the pianist —keyboardist for Serendipity.” Coop squealed and choked Paisley in a hug. “We’re going to need a nanny,” Em said, beaming a smile. “You’re not leaving me behind. Shane and I already discussed it. Sophia and I will be coming on the road. Family stays together.” “You girls are in luck,” Jess declared. Flute in hand, she gestured in my direction. “You know who happens to have a degree in education?” “Well, I don’t know about luck,” I objected lightly. I’d had big plans. High aspirations. If I was going to marry Carter Strickland and raise our children on the road, I wanted the credentials to do it. They wouldn’t have only musical talent; they’d have a proper education, too, if I could help it. “Luck, in my own opinion, is the guys meeting three amazing girls I can call friends. Our children will grow up together. Maybe their children. Yes, that is luck.” “I’ll drink to that,” said Paisley, raising her glass. “Right now, you’d drink to Em’s dogs

taking a shit upwind.” “I might,” Paisley admitted. “As long as they don’t shit in the middle of the lawn where I might step in it.” Coop snickered. I waited for Paisley’s rebuttal, but she giggled too. I supposed the few glasses of champagne took the sting out, allowing her to share Coop’s humor. The rest of us joined them, their laughter infectious. “It’s not funny,” she insisted finally. Fixing a scowl on her face, she headed back into the bathroom to wash her hands again. She raised her hands, smelled her fingers. “I swear I can still smell it.” “Her psychosis must be transmittable,” Em said, her nose screwing up. “I swear I can smell it too.” She finished dressing Sophia, who promptly rolled and closed her eyes, snuggling into Coop’s duvet for a nap. Suddenly, Em gasped, raised her hand to her mouth. “Merda! Is that what I think it is?” We all followed Em’s line of sight. There was a tiny Brutus poop in the center of Coops pillow. “Oh my God,” I exclaimed. “Coop, I’m so sorry. I’ll clean it up.” I hurried into the bathroom for some toilet paper, passing Paisley on the way out.

As I unwound a superfluous amount of toilet paper from the roll, I heard Paisley belt out a laugh. “That is absolutely priceless—no, it’s karma for laughing at me! Ha!” Em joined her, giggling. “It’s so tiny. Looks like one of those chocolates the hotel leaves. It should have a mini cupcake liner beneath it.” “Ew,” Paisley complained. “That’s disgusting.” Stepping out of the bathroom, I wadded the toilet paper in my hand, and, with great care, cleaned Brutus’s poo from Coop’s pillow. “Might want to change the cover on that.” “Or burn it altogether,” Paisley suggested. “Probably has parasites all over it now.” “No bother,” Coop dismissed. She began tugging the pillow case from the pillow. “It’s Tate’s pillow. Besides, we have supercalafragilisticanitmicrobial pillow protectors.” “My dog doesn’t have parasites,” I assured. Still, just to torture Paisley, I unfolded the layers of tissue and peeked inside. Wrinkling my nose, I distanced the tissue from my face. “You gave me the right dosage worm medicine, Jess, right?” “I’ve been a vet for over twenty years. I gave you the right dosage.”

“Well, do these look likes worms to you?” I held out the tissue, though nothing was exposed. It was all a ruse. Jess lowered her head and peered closely, biting back a smile. “Maybe he needs a second dose.” “Ew,” I said. “That actually is gross.” Turning, I wadded the tissue again. As I made my way toward the bathroom, I stubbed my toe on the edge of the dresser. I fell forward, the tissue flying from my hand. Paisley’s eye widened. She scrambled to get out of the way, stumbling over her own two feet. She grasped the curtains in an attempt to remain upright, but took them and the rod down with her. Coop ran to my aid first. “That damn chest! I told Tate that wasn’t a good place for it! You’d think he’d move it after he broke his toe…” I held my chest, shaking with soundless laughter. I hadn’t actually stubbed my toe. It was all part of the ruse. Paisley’s eyebrows furrowed, staring at me with indignity. She pushed the curtains from her lap. I held up my hand, showed her the balled up tissue still in my hand. The other was empty. It took only a moment for her to realize it was a joke. “You’re such a bitch.” “Come on—it was ffffunny!” I challenged.

“Admit it! You totally ffffreaked!” Em snorted, attracting our attention. She was laughing, the kind of laugh that was soundless, while full-fledged. Another moment passed while I stared, amused. She finally came up for air, and snorted again, trying to stifle her laughter. When at last she could no longer contain herself, she guffawed, tears springing from her eyes. Jess, too, had broken down into laughter. She turned, facing the wall in an attempt to hide her own amusement. The effort was in vain. She buckled shortly after Em, her silent racks of laughter giving way to howling cries. It was a chain reaction. Beside me, Coop joined in, capitulating to the ensuing hilarity. Though, her peals of laughter were soft and melodic. “Amazing,” Paisley griped. “I’ve been the subject of your amusement twice in the span of an hour. I don’t know why I’m even friends with you all.” She didn’t mean it. She was sore. Stepping toward her, I extended my hand to help her up. She looked at it and rolled her eyes, the corner of her mouth quirked in a smirk. “Don’t be offended if I don’t accept. Until after you wash your hands, at least.” “My dog doesn’t actually have worms,” I assured, though it did little to comfort her. She

waved a hand, hoisting herself up off the floor. Looked at the curtains in her hands, and then up at the brackets above the window. “I can help you with that,” I offered. I had a good six inches’ height on her. The ceilings were high. Even with a footstool, she probably wouldn’t reach. “I’ve got it,” Paisley declined. “You should get changed,” Coop added, quickly gathering her wits. “Your dress is still damp. Paisley and I can handle this.” “It’ll only take a minute,” I assured. Grabbing the ottoman, I set in in front of the window and stepped up. Coop and Paisley quickly raised the curtain rod, but I captured a glimpse of the backyard, which was swarming with people. Lifting my hand, I pushed the rod down, peered curiously over the top. “What’s going on out there?” There was a pergola off to the left, and a table along the side of the house, both bordering the large flagstone patio. There were several men and women placing urns of flowers throughout the yard. Others were placing chaffers of food onto the table. Yet more were stringing lights from the house to the fence and back again in neat little rows. As I gaped, more people came into the yard with ropes of

garland draped over their arms. Another carried a large chandelier. Two others carried lengths of white fabric toward the pergola. “He said something small and intimate,” Coop explained. “The four of us made a million calls—and I mean a million—to get everything on such short notice.” Jesus Christ on a crutch. It was my wedding.

Chapter 27 I

“ can’t believe he did this!” I exclaimed. “He’s insane!” I peeked out the window again. The florists and caterers were just putting the finishing touches on their wares. My mind was completely blown. In a few short minutes, I was going to walk downstairs and marry Carter Strickland. “I really think he’s lost his mind.” Ok, so it wasn’t legal. We’d have to say our vows over again after the mandatory three-day waiting period for the marriage license, but where I was concerned, we were getting married “I think it’s romantic,” Coop pondered. Her hand floated to her chest. She smiled demurely, her cheeks flushing with color. “Damn it! I think I’m going to cry!” “Please don’t,” I begged. “I’m barely holding it together myself.” I didn’t know whether I should laugh or cry. It was a little unnerving. “Maybe I’m the one that’s lost my mind. I’m going to wake up in the hospital bed and realize this is all a hallucination.” Paisley walked over and pinched my arm, a little harder than necessary. I winced and yanked

my arm away. “Ouch!” I complained, rubbing the sting away. “What the hell did you do that f-f-for?” “To prove you’re not dreaming.” “You didn’t have to pinch me so hard!” Paisley shrugged, unperturbed. “I wanted you to be sure.” “Sadist.” There was a knock at the door. Coop walked over and cracked it open. Tate peeked his head in, scanned the room. He paused and winked when he reached me. “The babies are getting fussy,” he told Coop. “We’re almost done here. I’ll be down in a minute.” Tate beamed as if she’d declared her love, and stole a kiss. “See you in a few, Strawberry Girl.” Coop closed the door and leaned against it, her eyes hooded and dreamy. “You’re crazy to ever have thought of resisting that,” Em observed amusedly. “He’s the definition of irresistible.” “I was highly delusional,” Coop admitted. She grinned widely and opened her eyes. “That was our signal. Any last thoughts? Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

My stomach spasmed. I steeled myself and smoothed my dress out. “Do I look ok?” My only concern was my hair. I wished I’d had time to grow it out, but it was fairly irrelevant in the bigger picture. “You look beautiful,” Jess assured. “Carter’s heart is going to stop when he sees you.” “Wait,” said Coop quickly. “Let’s go through the list first. Something old?” I looked over myself, held up my hand, wiggling my finger wearing the god-awful ring. Coop nodded. “The dress is new and borrowed. That leaves something blue.” Everyone looked around the room for something suitable. “Earrings?” Em suggested. Coop shook her head. “I don’t have anything blue.” Thinking, she drummed her fingers against her arm. Her eyes brightened. She smiled. Her fingers stilled. “I’ve got it!” Hurrying to her dresser, she slid the top drawer open and rifled through the contents. Her hand came back out with a pair of pale blue lace bikinis. “These are brand new,” she assured. “I bought them a few weeks ago during that whole fiasco with Paisley and Jake in the dressing room…” “Works f-f-for me,” I agreed. “Just so

you’re aware, you’re not getting them back.” “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Taking the bikinis from her hand, I slid them on under my dress. I’d been alfresco, considering my panties were soaked along with my dress after our dive in the pool. “What do you think? Can you see them through the dress?” “No—they’re perfect,” Coop approved. She looked me over, measuring my appearance, and nodded with approval. “Not bad for such short notice.” “I can’t believe you had a white dress handy.” “I think Nora was hoping Tate and I would renew our vows with a more traditional ceremony,” Coop theorized. “Something she, Nolan, and my parents could attend.” “Are you going t-t-to?” I asked. Coop shrugged. “Not anytime soon. We have Sophia’s baptism to attend. And the twins’ baptism to plan. Then Paisley’s wedding, and Em’s wedding after that.” And she was hoping to take the stage sometime in between, she didn’t say. “Trust me—we have plenty to celebrate. Besides, today is all about you!” “Oh my God.” This was it. The moment of

truth. It was surreal. Maybe it was a joke. Carter had a wicked sense of humor. He once said he’d go to prom with me, and in my excitement, when I asked if he was serious, he’d said no and laughed at me. “It’s no joke,” Jess assured. She grasped my hand reassuringly. “He loves you.” Her eyes were kind, empathetic. I realized I must’ve spoken my ruminations aloud again. “We already warned him we’d have his balls on a platter,” Coop added, “and Carter knows from experience I can do it.” “I’m f-f-fine,” I said—what I hoped was firmly. “They’re just f-fleeting thoughts that everyone has. I happen t-to think them aloud.” “So do I,” Coop admitted. “Of course, I woke up—hung over—on a return flight from Vegas. So I was a little vociferous when I spotted the ring on my finger.” “Who are you kidding?” Em snorted. “You’re the most contained person I know. You’re like the antithesis to Mattie’s mental rambling.” “Not anymore,” Coop argued. “With the twins, I don’t have the time to let my mind wander.” Jess’s phone chirped. She pulled it from her pocket. “Groom’s getting restless,” she warned.

“He’s spotted the missing curtains. He knows Mattie knows.” Everyone looked at me. I flushed with color. “I’m ready as I’ll ever be.” “This is your shining moment!” Coop said. “Let’s get this show on the road!” Coop was the first through the door. I followed her down the hall. As we descended the stairs, I noticed a woman standing at the bottom. She held in her hands a crown of lavender and pale green wax flowers. “You must be Mattie,” she surmised. “Do you have a preference on how you’d like to wear it? On an angle? Across the forehead?” “Across the f-forehead, I think.” “It’s good,” she approved. “Classic.” She placed the flowers on my head, shifted it slightly until it sat firmly in place, and then slid a few pins into my hair, securing it. From the hall table, she passed me a matching bouquet. “That should be it.” “Thank you for working with us on such short notice,” Coop said. Stepping forward, she shook the woman’s hand. “We’ll be in touch.” “I look forward to working with you again,” said the woman. She turned to me and smiled politely. “Congratulations.” “Thank you.”

Paisley approached at the woman’s departure. She leaned in and gave me a light hug. “See you outside.” “Me too,” said Em. She had Sophia, sleeping, resting on her shoulder, so she opted for a cheek kiss. The two headed for the rear door leading to the garden. Jess approached next. She kissed my cheek, her eyes swimming with tears. “I know you haven’t actually said ‘I do’ yet, but let me be the first to welcome you to the family.” “Thank you,” I managed, fighting my own tears. Jess swiped at her cheek, and then patted absently at Iain’s bottom. “I just can’t believe it. Carter’s getting married. I never thought the day would come.” The thought was mutual. I never thought the day would come. “Lord, I’d better go,” Jess said. “You look beautiful, sweetheart. I don’t want to make you cry.” She pressed another kiss to my cheek. “Good luck.” “Thank you, Jess.” Jess laughed as she walked away. “I should be thanking you. You’re marrying him.”

Coop and I giggled. “She’s right,” Coop agreed. “You’re a saint.” Lifting her hand, she spun her finger in a circle. “Turn for me. One last look.” I spun in a slow circle. Coop gave me a cursory once-over. “Hold your flowers lower. Lower. Just above your hips.” She smiled when I finally got it right. “Perfect!” “Really?” I was admittedly nervous. “You look beautiful!” Leaning in, she pressed her cheek to mine in a kiss. “Hang tight. I’ll send Jake in.” Watching her walk away, I fidgeted nervously. Seconds stretched into minutes. I ambled down the hall, stole a glance in the mirror. I felt overwhelmed and unprepared. “I’m going to hold you to it,” Jake warned. He was in the living room. I heard Paisley’s throaty laugh and the door closing. A second later, he came through the living room and into the hall. He was wearing a pair of khakis and a white oxford. The ankles were rolled. His feet were bare. “You look nice.” Jake looked down at himself. “All weddings should be this casual.” “All weddings should be impromptu. Much less stress.”

“Then you shouldn’t look so nervous.” Jake looked up from straightening the sleeves of his shirt. “I’m not used to being the center of attention. That’s you.” “So, you’re not having any second thoughts about the idiot outside smiling like a loon?” I smiled in answer. Not a chance in hell. “He looks happy?” “As a fuckin’ lark.” I giggled. “I wish I could see him. Is it weird or unlucky if I peek out the window?” I had to stop myself from doing just that. “You’re going to step outside in two minutes and he’s going to smile twice as wide. You look beautiful.” “Damn it, Jake.” The tears I was holding back began to fall. “Well shit. That didn’t take long.” From his pocket, he pulled a tissue. He unfolded it and then passed it to me. “I’ll have to thank Paisley for arming me. Just make sure you tell her they’re happy tears if she asks.” “Was she expecting worse?” “Everyone is taking wagers on whether I’ll forever hold my peace.” He held his hands up when

my mouth skewed into a frown. “I said my piece earlier, Matt. If you’re happy, I’m happy. That’s all I ever wanted.” Stepping closer, he wrapped me in a hug. “Seriously.” “Thank you.” “I love you, Matt.” A fresh wave of tears fell. “You’re determined t-to ruin my makeup.” “I was told to tell you to blot and not wipe. I’m assuming they meant your eyes. I hope they meant your eyes.” I laughed, which is what I’m sure he intended. “Really, though; if you could tell Paisley that they’re happy tears. We have a reward system going. As long as I don’t say anything bad about Carter…” “Do I even want t-to know?” “Probably not.” He grinned waggishly. Lifting his arm, he turned his wrist and checked his watch. “I think our two minutes are up. Are you ready?” “Are my eyes running? Do I look ok?” “You’re devastating.” “Devastating?”

“When Carter sees you walking toward him, smiling like an angel, those cheeks flushed with tears, his heart’s going to stop dead in his chest.” “You’re killing me.” I blotted my eyes. I wasn’t going to have any makeup left at this rate. I’d turned into a weepy mess. Grinning, Jake lifted his elbow, offering me his arm. “Come on, Matilda Mae, let’s go make all your wishes come true.” I stared at Jake, my eyes narrowed. Surely Carter wouldn’t have told him my secret. They were only just burying the hatchet. When Jake cocked his head to the side and lifted an eyebrow, I hooked my fingers around his bicep and let him lead me through the house. There were pails and vases of flowers everywhere. On the tables. Along the hall. Draped over the door frame. The house smelled of lavender and something sweeter, maybe lilac. I couldn’t believe that they’d gotten so much done on such short notice. I was genuinely impressed. They’d turned Tate’s house into a virtual English garden in a matter of hours. “Just line them up across the kitchen table,” Em instructed. “Light the braziers to keep everything warm. Check the hors d'oeuvres in an

hour, start trading the trays out with the main dishes. Champagne—keep it flowing.” Em glanced up, noted us watching her work her magic. “Merda! I gotta go. Now.” She held up her finger as she passed. “Give me five seconds. Just five. Sorry!” She slipped out the door. Outside, the piano started a grand entrance piece and then quickly transposed into “That’s Amoré.” A crowd of cheers sounded, a round of applause. A few hoots of laughter. “Her timing was spot on,” Jake noted. “I think she meant t-to be outside already.” “I meant Paisley. I told her to count to five before she started playing. Give you both a moment to take everything in before you start up the aisle.” “She did well with the improv t-too.” Jake grinned widely, clearly enamored with his fiancée. “We could make it a double wedding,” I suggested. Jake’s smile fell. “Don’t I wish. We already have everything planned. Five groomsmen, five bridesmaids. Five too many if you ask me.” “So, elope.” “She’s the oldest daughter,” Jake snorted. “The first of the Shaws to be married. Her mother would have an aneurism.”

It was fair to say, her mother wasn’t footing the bill, but I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth to keep from voicing it aloud. “She has ttwelve other children t-to pamper. You’d think she’d t-take the consideration of each child’s individual desires.” “She’s a good person,” Jake allayed. “Besides, I owe her for ruining their Easter dinner.” “What happened?” I inquired. “And why haven’t I heard of this before?” “I choked on a baby carrot, and Paisley had to give me the Heimlich,” Jake explained. “The carrot ended up somewhere in a side dish. I think. I’m not sure. I left so fast, I didn’t take the time to notice.” Laughing, I shook my head, trying to dispel the image. I’d never seen Jake discomposed. Don’t get me wrong, he had a good sense of humor and was a master at sarcasm, but to have choked on a carrot during his girlfriend’s family dinner, I couldn’t imagine what had possibly overcome him. “Now,” Jake appraised. “We’re ready.” Placing his hand over mine, he squeezed it gently then led me toward the door. He paused a moment, pushed it open, and stepped down. He paused again, allowing me to take everything in. Flowers bedecked every corner, softening

the stark lines of the lawn and the immaculately trimmed shrubs. They wrapped the posts of the pergola and billowed down between the beams. Pails of blossoms stood at the center of the tables. Large frothy bows wrapped the backs of the chairs, their tails ruffling gently in the breeze. Lights twinkled overhead, promising a hint of magic in the approaching evening. But nothing compared to the man waiting in the small grove of trees. His blue eyes outshone a thousand twinkle lights. His smile outstripped a garden of flowers. His love…it was well worth waiting for. When he flashed me his signature smile, my heart skipped a beat. It was all I could do to keep from sprinting toward him. To my left, Paisley’s fingers danced over the keys of the piano in a grand entrance. I almost died when it morphed into a tricked out version of “Happy Birthday.” It was elaborate and drawn out to accommodate my walk up the aisle, but there was no mistaking the song. My face turned eight shades of red. If Jake hadn’t guided me forward, I might’ve stopped and gave in to my humiliation. As it stood, I took another step forward and watched Carter bend over in laughter. He glowed, absolutely glowed with exaltation. He looked delectable in his khakis and

white oxford shirt. Of course, he looked delectable in shredded jeans and a worn-out t-shirt. In fact, after our swim, he probably took a towel to his hair, changed his underwear and tossed on whatever the guys handed him in lieu of a tux. That was the extent of his preparation. But to me, he looked like a fucking rock star. My rock star. My entire life had lead up to this moment. He’d stolen my heart as a little girl with his innocuous winks, flattering smiles, and teasing tugs of my ponytail. I’d never stood a chance against his flirtations. I was young, and he was tall, handsome, and downright irresistible. Now, years later, he’d stolen my heart again, despite my qualms. His patience and persistence paid off. Slowly, he’d chipped away at my icy resolve and eased his way back into my life. Ok, not so much as eased, but rather with a force of a hurricane. Carter didn’t do anything quietly. But in all honesty, it would’ve taken an act of God to break through to me. Reaching the makeshift altar, Jake grasped Carter’s hand in a firm shake. The two locked eyes for a length of time in some unspoken exchange before Jake finally let go. He turned, clasped my face gently between his hands, and kissed either cheek. My eyes filled with tears.

“None of that,” he chided. Pressing the pad of his thumb to my cheek, he wiped a tear away. “I’m short of quips right now. I have nothing to make you laugh.” I mustered a smile. “You’re not that f-funny anyhow.” Jake leaned in close, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “Then I’ll leave you with the clown. He does a fine job of it.” He angled his head in Carter’s direction. I looked up, meeting Carter’s gaze once again. A smile spread across my face, as wide as the sky was bright. He held out his hand as Jake stepped away. I took it, let him tug me forward until I had to move my bouquet from between us lest it be crushed. He dipped his head, took my mouth in a fervent kiss. He was warm and sweet. He tasted like sugar. Icing, perhaps. Beside us, Richard cleared his throat. “Getting a little ahead of yourselves, aren’t you?” he said wryly. He was the acting officiant. Laughing, Carter concluded the kiss, his breath bursting hot against my lips. “Could you have resisted her, Richard? Just look at how beautiful she is.” What blood that didn’t rush to my face during the kiss, rushed there now, spreading across

my cheeks in a bright pink flush. I looked up from under my lashes, taking in the man staring back at me. He looked as bewildered and… captivated as I’d felt for the larger part of my life. Besotted. In love. I relished every moment, basking in his undivided attention. “I’m going to have to ask you to step away from the bride,” Richard warned. “Try this a second time.” Carter smirked and rolled his eyes, but took a step back. Richard cleared his throat, fighting a smile, and began the opening remarks. “Dearly…beloved,” he said slowly and concisely, “we… are… gathered… here… today… to… witness… the union of… Carter Strickland… and… Matilda Whalen… in… holy… matrimony…” Just those few words felt like a lifetime. He was drawing out every word, almost comically. Everyone around us was sniggering. When Richard inquired if anyone had just cause on why we shouldn’t be lawfully joined together, everyone’s eyes wandered to Jake—who promptly flipped us all the bird. “Ok then,” said Richard, his tone wry. He angled himself toward Carter. “If you could repeat after me: I, Carter Strickland, choose you, Matilda, to be my wife. I promise to love and cherish you, for better or worse, and will keep you in perfect health under threat to my life. I promise to laugh

with you, never at you. I promise I will never post pictures to social media without your written consent. I promise to love and respect you, and above all else, make sure I’m not just yelling because I’m hangry.” Upon repeating the last line, Carter’s nose wrinkled. He turned to our throng of guests. “You all know I have low blood sugar!” “Sure sure,” Coop taunted. “You even have a medical bracelet. We’ve heard it all before.” “Matilda,” Richard prompted, gathering my attention. “I, Matilda Whalen, take you, Carter, to be my husband even though you ain’t got an ounce of common sense. I promise to love you despite your many flaws. I promise to laugh when you’re funny. I promise to keep my pimp hand warm when you’re not. I promise to keep you company during the long months on the road. I promise to keep the fridge stocked at all times so you have no excuse to be hangry. Above all else, I give my most solemn vow, to forgive you, no matter how many times your bandmates get drunk and pass out on the bus.” “Who wrote these?” I laughed. Almost everyone raised their hands. “Ya’ll are under the misimpression that we’re sharing a bus. If you want t-to pass out on the body bag, that’s f-fine with me, but Carter will be buying me my own.”

“I am?” Carter said dumbly. “Unless you want t-to share a bus with Jake and Paisley,” I pointed out. I turned to aforementioned persons. “No offense.” “None taken,” Jake assured. “Would you like me to add that to the vows?” Richard inquired. “Addendum one point zero to the legal binding nuptials between Carter Strickland and Matilda Whalen?” “That’s unnecessary,” Carter declined. He glanced at Jake and Paisley. “No offense, but I think I’ll be buying Matilda a new bus.” “It’s for the best,” Jake assented. He acknowledged Carter with what would’ve been a three-finger salute, if he had used all three fingers. “Should we move on?” Richard prompted. “Please,” Carter agreed. “Do you have a ring for the bride?” “Let’s take care of this first…” Reaching down, Carter lifted my hand in his and gently rocked the absurdity from my ring finger. He dropped it in his pocket and fished inside for what I assumed was my wedding band. I was almost afraid to see what he came up with on such short notice. Surely it had to be better than Gram’s molar. “I know you had your heart set on your

gram’s ring,” he explained, “but this one was my mother’s.” He pinched the band between his thumb and forefinger. It left me breathless. Three quarters of the white gold band was comprised of emerald cut diamonds, each nestled within a bed of smaller, brilliant cut diamonds. Truth be told, as relieved as I was that it wasn’t atrocious, it wouldn’t have mattered. He could’ve held a tin cigar band and I would’ve said “I do.” It was his mother’s ring, and he was the man I’d always dreamed of marrying. “Please place the ring on the bride's finger and say: With this ring, I thee wed,” Richard instructed. Carter repeated the words, and with a triumphant glimmer in his eyes, he slipped the ring onto my finger. His chin dipped ever so slightly, his lips slightly parted. I thought he was going to kiss me again, but Richard spoke, breaking his chain of thought. Carter blinked, and smiled sheepishly, momentarily deterred. “And the ring for the groom,” said Richard. He dipped his fingers into his own pocket, extracted a large, stainless band, and passed it to me. The rim was polished with a thick band of brushed steel and an inlay of ebony along the center. There were notches scattered across the surface, giving it an industrial and edgy appeal. “Please place the ring on the groom's finger and

say: With this ring, I thee wed.” Slipping the ring over the tip of his finger, I repeated the words and attempted to push it over his knuckle. It refused, the skin of his knuckle bunching along the edge of the band. “None of this counts if the ring doesn’t go on!” boomed a deep, male voice. “I can step in if you’d like!” “Not a chance, Marshall,” Carter scoffed. “It’ll go on. Did earlier.” This was so going to count if I had to force it on. Lifting his hand higher, I smirked and slipped his ring finger into my mouth, wetting it thoroughly. A wide smile spread over Carter’s face. The guests roared with hoots and laughter. I removed it slowly, sweeping my tongue over the edge of the ring. “Jesus fucking Christ,” Carter swore, his grin reshaping into a wayward smirk. I tried again. The ring gave with triumph. I lifted his hand high above my head and pointed to it. “It counts!” It wasn’t until then I joined them in laughter, my cheeks flushing with a fresh burst of color. I pressed the back of my hand against them, letting the coolness seep into my skin. Richard waited patiently until the noise died

to an acceptable decimal before he attempted to continue the ceremony. Raising his voice, he spoke over the dying laughter. “Let these rings be given and received as a token of your affection, sincerity and fidelity to one another. In as much as Carter and Matilda have consented together in wedlock and have witnessed the same before this company, and pledged their vows to each other, by the authority vested in me by the State of Washington, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” He turned to Carter, pointedly. “You may now kiss the bride.” Beneath the shade of the Sweetgum tree in Tate’s back yard, Carter lowered his head and kissed me. This kiss should have been our first, a mutual affection rather than my revelation and his discovery. Nonetheless, I couldn’t regret my duplicity or the ensuing conflict, not when I was standing here in his arms as Mrs. Carter Strickland. In the end, everything had worked out. Wishes did come true. True love did exist. Happily-ever-afters were not mere myth. And that…that was something worth writing a song about.

The End

Epilogue Cooper Watkins

C

“ ome on, babe, let’s get a little closer to the show.” Tate tugged my hand, helping me off the blanket. We were sitting on the beach, listening to the music wash over the water at the annual Portage music fest. It was the tenth anniversary, though Hautboy would not be participating for the first time since its existence. Hesitantly, I glanced back at Levi and the twins. He was helping tend to them, ever the big brother. He rivaled Tate with his attentions. “What about the kids?” “I’m a licensed teacher,” Mattie assured. “I’ve worked in a daycare every summer over the past three years. I can handle them.” “See?” Tate pressed. “Nothing to worry about.” Insistently, Tate towed me toward the water. I glanced once more over my shoulder. I supposed they would be ok. Em was there to help if they acted up.

While I was glad Em had come, I wasn’t sure why. Sophia had undergone surgery just two weeks earlier, and I was somewhat surprised Em could drag herself away from her baby’s side. She’d explained that Shane had put his foot down and insisted she take a few hours away from the hospital. His concern was so great that he’d stayed behind with the intention of sending Em periodic updates of Sophia’s good health. As Carter rose to his knees and began snapping pics of Iain tucked between the twins, Mattie and Em waved me off, pacifying my apprehension. Turning back to Tate, I double stepped until our entwined hands fell slack. “Where are we going?” I asked. He was leading me toward the water. Lifting his free hand, he pointed toward a boat docked along a small pier. It was shuttling the band members back and forth from the beach to the barge anchored in the sound. “Back stage to meet someone.” “Who?” “Your lead guitarist.” “For real?” I enthused. “Where did you find him?” I hadn’t seen any auditions come through the house since long before the babies were born.

He flashed a crooked smile. “Around.” Reaching the boat, Tate held my hand while I climbed aboard. I was about to head for the bench to sit down, but he leapt aboard and took my hand again. Leading me toward the front of the boat to the passenger seat, he climbed the single stair, and then helped me up, guiding me to stand in front of him. His arms boxed me in on either side. “Hold onto this bar here.” He patted the steel handle running the length of the dashboard. “You can see better if you stand.” Indeed. We had an unobstructed view of Puget Sound. The captain scanned the dock for straggling passengers. “Is that everyone?” “Just us,” Tate replied, and the boat started with a throaty rumble. The captain jumped down from his platform and untied the ropes from the cleats. The boat drifted away from the dock, rising and falling with the gentle swells of the water. This small excursion had my heart hammering with anticipation. I felt like a child—albeit a large one— taking her first turn on a roller coaster. In the one year since I met Tate Watkins, not one day of it was a bore. Every moment with him was a treasure, each memory valuable no matter how large or small.

I reminded myself every day of what could have been, or rather what had been. It kept me humble, made me appreciate every kiss and embrace. But I had so much more to be thankful for. My appreciation went beyond Tate’s adorations. We had family. Our circle was now complete. I wouldn’t go as far as to say the story was over. Our love had far reaching consequences. Ripples as far as the eye could see. But those closest to me were content, and the knowledge left me fat, dumb, and happy. Life was good. Really fucking good. The captain eased the throttle forward. The bow of the boat lifted into the air. The horizon disappeared behind the dashboard. I glanced behind us. A wide fan of water propelled us forward, jetting into the air with such force it carved a deep wake in our path. My knuckles whitened around the bar, but an exhilarated smile dawned across my face. Tate’s arms tightened around me. “Fun?” “Definitely fun,” I agreed. We didn’t head for the barge directly, instead, taking a small excursion around the sound. The water was like glass. As far as I was concerned, the ride was smooth, despite the few heart-stopping maneuvers the captain performed. At one point he did a threesixty and jumped our own wake. The propellers

roared. Catching air might’ve been involved. When we finally coasted alongside the barge, my cheeks were chilled from the wind, and my hands were numb with effort. A line was tossed to us. Tate assisted the captain by tying a few bumpers to the side of the boat while he was busy using the ropes to tow us closer. Once secured, Tate stood behind me as two gentlemen from the barge lifted me aboard. I felt a bit awkward that they didn’t trust me to climb aboard myself, but as my feet settled on the ground, it quickly dissolved. Excitement washed over me anew. Music roared from the speakers. I could feel the bass from my head to my toes. The barge vibrated beneath my feet. My heart leapt in my chest as the adrenaline coursed through my system. I could barely stand still, unable to contain myself. “You should be able to find Meredith just over there,” shouted one of the stage hands over the music. Meredith was Hautboy’s stage manager. She also handled Portage seeing as Tate sponsored the event. “Be warned. She’s in a mood. Your guitarist puked all over the place. Spattered her shoes.” Wonderful. Two pukers. Paisley’s brother, Peter, was a puker too. We were going to have to invest in airline bags between him and my

impending guitarist. “Thanks for the heads up,” Tate said. Taking my hand, he began leading me across the barge. I tripped twice over the various wires and cords, craning my neck in fear that I might miss something or someone. Tate looked down at me, amused. “You ok?” “Fine,” I said, smiling sheepishly. Nonetheless, I tugged him to a stop when the stage came into view. Envy tugged on my heartstrings, causing the little green devil to appear on my shoulder. Oh, how I want to be on that stage. I wanted it so bad, I’d be willing to sing backup. “Coop,” Tate prompted. “Soon, babe. Real soon.” I stared a moment longer, taking in the lights, the roar of the music. I’d missed this. I lived for it. “Not soon enough,” I promised. When we reached the makeshift green room, Tate paused outside the door. “Are you—” The door opened, cutting Tate off. Meredith stepped out, wincing over the ruckus of voices. She pulled it firmly closed behind her. Leaning against it, she drew a deep, cleansing breath. It was another moment before acknowledging us. When she did, she blinked and then frowned. “You might seriously reconsider your decision on

this…conglomeration.” Without deigning to explain, she stalked off. “I hope you didn’t need her for anything.” The poor woman was always in a huff because she was always solving everyone else’s problems, and getting puked on didn’t help things. I could only hope she got paid well for her pains. “I’m sure she’s done all she’s could,” Tate replied. “The rest is up to me and you.” “How so?” “It’s your band.” Grasping the door knob, Tate turned his wrist and pushed the door open. Peter was squaring off with Jaxon. Paisley was clinging to his back, her legs wrapped around his waist. He, Peter, unable to see with Paisley’s hand over his eyes, whirled, taking a blind swing. Paisley’s feet caught the lamp and sent it falling to the floor. The bulb blew with a loud pop and a flash of light. Jaxon dodged the blow and countered with his own, but caught Paisley in the ribs instead. She fell from Peter’s back and landed in a heap on the floor, the air knocked from her lungs. “Oh. My. God.” “Ditto,” Tate agreed. The two had been at odds since Jaxon was caught making out with one of Paisley’s younger sisters. It seemed their antagonism for one another had come to a head.

Tate was going to have to talk to them. “Should we intervene?” I inquired, meaning Tate. I wasn’t getting within arms distance. I’d had my fill of brawls. Answering my question, Tate put his fingers to his lips and blew a strident whistle, garnering everyone’s attention. “Children…!” Everyone stopped, turned our way. Peter lowered his fists. Paisley picked herself up off the floor and brushed herself off. Jaxon mopped a smear of blood from his nose. “Hey,” said Peter. “What’s up?” “Idiot,” Paisley scoffed. Bracing herself, she took a deep breath. Her face pinched with pain. “Damn it, that hurts.” “I’m sorry,” said Jaxon, taking a step toward her. “I didn’t mean to hit you.” When she cut him a glare, he stepped back again. “It was an accident. I’m legally blind, you know.” He nodded emphatically. “You’re legally stupid too.” Steeling himself, he stepped forward again. “Measure for measure,” he said staunchly. “Go ahead. Hit me.” Peter’s eyes brightened. “That’s not quite fair. Paisley hits like a girl. As her brother, I think I

should stand in.” The two boys lunged at each other again. Despite Paisley’s aggrieved ribs, she stepped between them. “If I get hit again,” she threatened, “Marshall will be standing in for me.” Just as quickly as it roused, the fight bled out of them. Marshall’s name alone was a deterrent. Between causing Em’s ex to lose a testicle, pile driving the pervert who’d attacked Paisley, and the ease in which he’d removed Jake from beating Carter and tossing him in the pool to cool off, no one dared exacting his wrath. “Is everyone finished?” Tate inquired. He stepped further into the room, pulling me with him. “We have about a half hour. It would be nice to perform a test run, tighten things up before we hit the stage.” My band…hit the stage? Tate’s recent assurance came back to me. Soon, babe, real soon. Indeed, soon. Hautboy wasn’t performing, but it appeared Serendipity was. As realization set in and my eyes windened, Tate grinned crookedly. “Are you freakin’ shitting me?” He held up his palms. “I wouldn’t dare.” Squealing with excitement, I jumped into his arms and wrapped myself around him. “I can’t believe you did all this and didn’t tell me!”

“It was dependent upon Nora’s approval,” he explained. “I didn’t want to disappoint you if she didn’t feel you were ready.” Oh. No wonder Nora had been enigmatic during my last visit. She’d fumbled over her words, unable to give me a definitive yes or no. “I take it she said yes.” “She said yes, but made me promise not to overdo it.” My smile fell, worry etching my features. I removed myself from Tate, dropping my feet to the floor. “What if I’m not ready? What is my voice fails?” My therapist was happy with my progress, but up until now, I’d been holding myself back. I hadn’t tested its full strength yet. Tate took my face between his hands, his expression certain. “Babe, I think you just burst my eardrum. You’re ready.” I laughed, giddy with delight. “We’re really going to do this!” “If we can get them in order.” He nodded toward the trio. “Though, I’d say Paisley has a handle on them at the moment.” “And the guitarist I was supposed to meet?” “You’re looking at him, at least until we head to New Orleans.” While I was familiar with

the style of music you’d find there, Paisley, Jaxon, and Peter were introduced only recently. We thought they could appreciate the heartfelt soul of blues better in person, perhaps pick up a few tips from the local artists. “Perhaps we’ll scout someone there.” I liked the thought of Tate playing lead guitar. But he had Hautboy. And God knows how the band actually survived the feud between Carter and Jake. There was no way I was going to step between them. “Clock’s ticking,” Paisley spoke up. The three had made their way to their instruments. “If we’re going through the entire set, we’d better get started.” Grinning, Tate let me go and picked up his guitar and raised the strap over his neck. “Are you ready, boots?” The deep bass of Peter’s guitar began picking through the intro to Nancy Sinatra’s “These Boots Are Made for Walking” while Jaxon began beating the tambourine. Fucking twit songs. “You’re not funny.” Despite my pout, a smile spread across my face. “I am so not singing that ever again.” ♪♫♪♫

We watched with concern as Peter bent over the trash can and dry heaved one last time. His stomach was empty, but his nerves had yet to realize. I thanked God the music drowned out the sound of his retching, lest I join him. “What a head case,” Paisley scoffed. “I’m going to have to do something about that.” “Might want to be careful,” Tate warned. “Addictions start that way. A pill or two before a show multiplies to another between intermission…” “I was talking about a sharp jab of the knee. If he’s worried about his balls, it’ll take his mind off his stomach.” She smiled in her brother’s direction. Tate looked stricken. “I think your theory is seriously flawed.” Over the music, Meredith shouted Tate’s name. We unanimously turned in her direction as she strode toward us. “Get your Frat Pack out on the stage! You’re on!” “Lord Almighty,” Jaxon muttered. He blessed himself with the sign of the cross. “If you’re going to rob me of my eyesight, at least give me strength.” “You don’t need it,” Paisley assured. “Not when you have talent like yours.” Taking his hand, she placed it on her shoulder. “Come on, Lothario, I’ll show you to your instrument of love.” The two

weaved their way across the stage, avoiding the wires and cables in their path. “I’ll be happy with intestinal fortitude,” Peter croaked. He was pale, but his eyes were bright. “Pun entirely intended.” Tate clapped him on the back. “You’ve got this, man. Carter picked you for a reason.” Peter grimaced. Whether over another wave of nausea caused by stage fright or Carter’s ulterior motives for hiring him, I couldn’t be sure. Perhaps an equal measure of both. Carter had hired him to prove a point to Jake about dating relatives of bandmates and employees. I suppose the notion would cause him to doubt his talents. Had he only been a pawn, or was he truly competent at playing the guitar? “Do you really think I’d put you on this stage tonight if I didn’t think you were capable?” Tate asked in reply to Peter’s uncertainty. “Don’t insult me. Get your ass out there.” He held up his fist. Peter took a deep breath and bumped it with his. “Watch for my cues like we practiced.” “I’ve got it.” Peter nodded and headed onto the stage. His stride was true, all vestiges of apprehension gone. With Peter taken care of, Tate turned his attention to me and raised one dark brow. “Are you

ready?” “I’ve waited all my life for this.” I beamed, unable to contain my excitement. It was do or die. The time was now. In a few short minutes, I’d know if I had what it took to captivate an audience, if two surgeries were worth the pain, if the months of recovery had paid off. But even if Amanda Keller was right and I’d had my fifteen minutes of fame, I knew I was still truly blessed in life. I had Tate, three beautiful children, and a large circle of friends. I loved them, and they, me. My life was and would be content even if I failed. It was with that knowledge that I stretched up on my toes, kissed my husband, walked out onto the stage and into the lights.

Note from the Author I want to thank you for taking the time to read Sometime Around Midnight. If you enjoyed Mattie and Carter ’ s story, please consider leaving positive feedback on Amazon, Goodreads or any other blogs you visit. It not only helps new readers discover my work, but at times, it encourages and motivates me to keep writing. Furthermore, I ’ d like to thank those who ’ ve followed the Hautboy series. It ’ s been a journey. There were times I wasn ’ t sure Iwould ever finish. There were times I wasn ’ t sure if I wanted to. My characters have grown on me. Saying goodbye is bittersweet. But that ’ s not to say we can ’ t revisit them in the future. So many side characters, so many possibilities. Feel free to visit me on my website, on Facebook, on Twitter or on Goodreads. Drop me a line. I love to hear from my readers. Sign up here for news on promotions or new releases.

Thanks again for your interest in my books, Anne Berkeley Other books by Anne Berkeley

The Wild Hunt Series: Tempestuous Torrid Coming soon: Turbulent

Once Bitten Twice Shy Series: Feral

Hautboy Series: Someone to Watch Over Me Breaking the Habit Baby Did a Bad Bad Thing Sometime Around Midnight

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS I want to send a big thanks to all my beta readers for invaluable feedback and encouragement!Seriously, it ’ s been a long journey and so many of you have hung in there for the ride. A special thanks to Jodie Wilkins, Anita Terrill, Kathleen Burcham, Vannessa Hasty, Lorna Atkins, & Trish Sutherland. Thank you to Nikki Rose for your sharp eye and amazing proofreading skills!!