Worth the Fall (The McKinney Brothers #1) - Claudia Connor - PDF Free Download (2024)

Worth the Fall is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. A Loveswept eBook Original Copyright © 2014 by Claudia Connor Excerpt from Truth or Dare by Mira Lyn Kelly copyright © 2014 Mira Lyn Kelly All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America by Loveswept, an imprint of Random House, a division of Random House LLC, a Penguin Random House Company, New York. LOVESWEPT is a registered trademark and the LOVESWEPT colophon is a trademark of Random House LLC. This book contains an excerpt from the forthcoming book Truth or Dare by Mira Lyn Kelly. This excerpt

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has been set for this edition only and may not reflect the final content of the forthcoming edition. eBook ISBN

9780553390919

Cover design: Georgia Morrissey Cover photograph: CURAphotography/Shutterstock www.ReadLoveSwept.com v4.0 ep

Contents Cover Title Page Copyright

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12

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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 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31

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Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Dedication Acknowledgments By Claudia Connor About the Author The Editor’s Corner Excerpt from Truth or Dare

Chapter 1 “You ever notice that hot, mostly naked chicks don’t really show up in a snowcovered train whenever you pop open one of these?” Matt McKinney glanced over at the dripping beer bottle his cousin, Rob, held out. “I mean isn’t that some sort of product misrepresentation?” Rob asked, pointing to the picture on the silver foil. “Write a complaint to the company.” Matt pushed back in his beach chair and closed his eyes. He focused on the constant low roar of the surf, the backdrop of white noise, and dug his heels deeper into the coarse east coast sand. “Hell, man. That’s a good idea. Might get some free beer or something.”

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Or something. Normally Matt would have laughed at his cousin’s thought process. Normally he would have laughed at a lot of things. Lately? Not so much. “Uh, excuse me.” The female voice came from a towel near his feet. “Talking about naked girls other than us is just, like, rude. Did you forget we’re laying, like, right here?” Matt sighed long and hard. If only that were possible. Three days ago he’d found his cousin sitting on the curb outside his home. “Come on, man,” Rob had begged. “I need to get to the beach. You gotta help me. She could be ‘the one.’ ” Turned out, Rob had needed more than a ride. He’d needed a wingman. Sure, fine, whatever. How bad could it be? Less than forty-eight hours in their presence and Matt knew exactly how bad it could be. He glanced at the divas stretched out in

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the sand, man-made breasts—too big for even his large hands—spilling out of their tiny tops. Brittney looked up at Rob from her towel. “If you want hot women on a train, why don’t you drive your little choo-choo on over here?” “Honey, my choo-choo is not little,” Rob corrected. She gave Rob a knowing glance. “That’s true.” “Too bad for you, Matthew. This is a oneway train,” Kimmi said, still pissed at his refusal to sleep with her last night. “Or one-man,” Brittney added. Here we go. Matt wished himself somewhere else. Anywhere else. Kimmi flipped her oiled body over to bake the other side, the bright orange sequins of her top nearly blinding him. She’d been sloppy drunk by the time they’d left the bar

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last night, not that it would have mattered. He’d outgrown her type. Though, given his job, he didn’t have a lot of options. They continued with train innuendos, going through tunnels and what they could do for him if he got off track, until Matt couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m going for a walk.” “Man, you are spending way more time walking than you are sitting,” Rob said. “You need to relax.” If you call this relaxing. “Back in a while.” “Bye, Matthew,” Kimmi said, doing a fluttery finger wave. “Thanks so much for asking if I wanted to go.” Matt kept walking. Families crowded the beach, getting in one last trip before school started. A pack of teenagers raced into the water, brightly colored rafts under their arms, and a baby off to his right tasted sand. The seagulls screaming above his head reminded him of his

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brothers and sister fighting over the last cookie. He’d gone less than ten yards before he was drawn to the water like the Navy SEAL he was. With strong, even strokes, he cut through the rolling waves of the Atlantic, pushing himself, swimming faster, kicking harder, as if he could prove to his commanding officer he was more than ready for active duty. Prove to him it’d be wrong to sideline him because of a knock on the head. Idiotic medical bullsh*t. The cool water brushing past him did nothing to quiet his mind. This final week of mandatory recovery could have been relaxing, but already on edge, his beach companions were driving him to the brink. At thirtyfour, what had once been sexy seemed sleazy. Bold and assertive felt more like desperate and aggressive. He liked sex. He didn’t like being mauled.

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Matt continued moving parallel to the shore, catching glimpses of colorful umbrellas and the six towering condos that made up the resort. He preferred the water, but running back under the midday sun would likely burn off more steam than swimming. As he approached the shore, a small football landed off to his right with a splash and he glanced around for the thrower. No one was anywhere near him in the ocean, but a little boy stood at the water’s edge, watching him. Matt squinted against the reflecting sun and waded onto the beach, NERF ball in hand. “Here you go.” The boy looked to be around five or so and stared silently up at Matt as he took his ball. Deed done, Matt turned to go. He hadn’t taken two steps before something wet hit his shoulder. He sighed at the small blue and yellow football at his feet.

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When he looked back, the expression on the kid’s face reminded him of a dog after dropping a ball at your feet for the tenth time. You probably don’t want to play with me, but I sure wish you would. Matt lowered his head for a second, debating whether to applaud the boy’s tactics or scream in frustration. What he wouldn’t give to be a kid again with kid worries. To want nothing more in life than someone to play with. Matt picked up the ball with every intention of walking away and tossed it underhand to the boy. It sailed right through the kid’s outstretched hands, bounced off his bony chest and back toward Matt. Butterfingers. He shook his head, hating himself for thinking it, but he’d grown up with five brothers. You didn’t drop a ball without hearing a jab.

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The kid ran over to retrieve his football and stopped short. He glanced over his shoulder and waved at a woman sitting in the sand with three other children. “That’s my mom.” Matt couldn’t see her face, but she raised a hand at her son, clearly keeping an eye on the situation. Matt waved back. The boy took a step closer to Matt, stared at his toes and dug them into the sand. “I can’t catch,” he mumbled. Based on that one throw, the kid was right, but Matt wasn’t going to say so. “You’ll get it. You just need to practice. Maybe your dad could throw with you or something.” “Nope. He can’t throw. He’s dead.” The kid dropped that bit of info like he was talking about the color of the sky. Matt’s gut twisted. Another person dead. He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling at the ends in frustration. And he’d been jealous of this kid.

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He closed his eyes for a second and rubbed at the headache hovering behind his right eye. The one that had been gathering strength all morning. He didn’t have anywhere else to be and he sure as hell wasn’t in a hurry to get back to playing cabana boy. “I’ll throw with you,” Matt said, taking five steps back and motioning with his fingers, ready for the ball. The kid gave him a million-watt smile and wound up for his throw. The ball wobbled and sailed straight into the ocean. Nailing Matt in the back had obviously been a fluke. The kid wasn’t any better at throwing than he was at catching, though what he lacked in skill he made up for in enthusiasm. After his tenth trip fishing the ball out of the surf, Matt turned and came face-to-face with the kid’s mother. And what a face it was. Smooth, flawless complexion. Delicate features. She was small, compared to the five-

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foot-ten Kimmi; the top of her head barely reached his shoulders. Dark hair hung in a simple ponytail, a few strands blowing softly around her striking face. “Hey, Jack.” She laid a gentle hand on the boy’s head. “Why don’t you go play with Annie?” “But, Mom, we’re practicing.” “Jack!” yelled a little girl with long brown braids. “Charlie’s tearing down your castle!” She watched her son run off to rescue his creation. Matt hadn’t noticed it at first, but when she turned, the black tank top she wore with black bikini bottoms stretched over her belly. Beautiful and pregnant. He forced his attention to the kids. Jack and a smaller boy knelt, throwing sand out behind them like dogs digging a hole. “Nice kid.”

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“Thanks.” She flashed him a sweet smile and looked away again. Such a sharp contrast to his current companions but every bit as beautiful. Even more so. One of the kids, a little girl who looked around three, came up. Her short legs struggled in the sand and her arms strained, dragging a yellow bucket. “Mommy, wook in my bucket. You gotta see.” “Wow, Gracie.” She peered into the bucket. “You have a lot of sand.” “Not just sand, Mommy. I got a creature. He’s in dere ’cause I putted him in dere. You want to see?” she asked Matt. “Sure.” Matt crouched down beside her. “What did you say was in there?” She leaned right under Matt’s nose. “It’s a creature.”

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A riot of soft brown curls tickled his cheek, giving him a whiff of baby shampoo and little-kid sunscreen, reminding him of nieces he didn’t see enough. A sexy womanly smell also surrounded him and he breathed in a little deeper. Kneeling as he was, there was no way to avoid the sexy thighs mere inches from his face. “Oh no! He’s gone! Hey, wittle guy, where are you?” Her nose practically touched the sand. “Mommy, I wost him.” “Oh, I’m sure he’s in there,” Matt said, jerking his attention back to the bucket. “He’s probably hiding with all of us crowded around. Pretty sure I saw him.” “Well, I want to see him too. I’m gonna dig him out.” She popped up and the crown of her head caught Matt right in the mouth. “Ow!” Gracie rubbed her head, then gave him a wide dimpled smile. “I’m okay.” And she skittered off to find her creature.

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“Sorry.” “It’s fine.” Matt straightened and the woman raised her hand toward his face, stopping midway and lowering it before making contact. But not before Matt caught the gleam of a gold band on her left ring finger. Hadn’t the kid just said his dad was dead? A white-blond, cherub-faced toddler stopped at her side, his arms raised. Matt tried hard not to stare at her breasts as she bent to pick him up. Yeah. His lip was fine. She propped the boy on her hip, and he twisted a strand of her hair around his sandy finger. And that sand sprinkled over her smooth, sun-kissed chest, and…Damn. The little boy tucked his head under her chin, his soft baby hair ruffling over his forehead in the breeze. Time seemed to stop along with Matt’s brain. They stood awkwardly for a beat before a squabble broke out around the crumbling sand structure.

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She shifted her feet and adjusted the weight of the boy. “Guess I better go.” Matt glanced at the castle builders. He wouldn’t mind helping. “Bye,” she said. Okay. Maybe not. She took a step, then smiled at him over her shoulder. “Thanks for playing with Jack.” “No problem. Nice to meet you.” He watched her walk away. All toned legs, tiny ankles, and an ass he was not looking at. He stood there another minute, waiting on…he had no idea what, before heading back in the direction he’d come. That little girl was a doll, with her blowing curls and preschool chatter. And the mom, well…he needed to keep walking. And then it hit him. He hadn’t met her at all. Hadn’t even asked her name. What an idiot. His brothers would laugh their asses off. He picked up the pace until he was jogging.

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It shouldn’t matter whether he knew her name or not. It didn’t. Just because he hadn’t seen a man around didn’t mean there wasn’t one. Except…if she was here alone and pregnant with four kids, then…Then what? — Crazy. Patsy Cline sang in Abby’s head. I’m crazy for…bringing four children to the beach? Definitely. Could people tell by looking at her? Hopefully not. She prided herself on keeping it together. This week at the beach would prove a definite challenge, but she was used to that. And she’d prepared for this vacation for months, researching resorts with child-friendly beaches, pools, and activities. Even when her friend had been forced to bail on her, she’d been determined not to disappoint the kids. “Mommy, my mouf is crunchy.” Gracie pushed her blowing hair out of her face and tapped her teeth together.

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Abby looked down at the small PB&J triangle in her three-year-old’s sandy hand. “Uh-oh. Rinse your hand in the bucket and I’ll get you a new one.” She fished out another sandwich and sprinkled a few chips onto her daughter’s plate. Before Gracie ate even one, the wind picked them up and sent them tumbling across the sand, where they were immediately attacked by seagulls. Charlie then attacked the birds like the wild two-year-old he was, kicking sand all over as he went. “I think we should eat at the pool,” Annie said. Abby agreed with her sensible six-yearold. A picnic on the beach might be a great idea in theory, though the authors of Varied Dining Experiences for Children had obviously never tried peanut butter and jelly in the sand. She sighed. Why fight it? No need to make things harder than they had to be, and the

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poolside grill was one of the reasons she’d chosen this resort. One week of chicken fingers and fries wouldn’t kill them. Shade? An ice-cold drink? Swimming without Mother Nature trying to drown you? Abby stared out at the churning foam of death. It had taken all of two seconds to realize her children would not be getting into that water no matter how many flotation devices were tied to their bodies. More than twenty years later, she could still taste the salt water in her mouth, still feel the panic of being pulled under and tossed like a rag in a washing machine. “Come on, guys. Let’s go.” Abby gathered their things and trudged through the sand as fast as possible with a sweaty two-year-old lump plastered to her side. They’d eat lunch, spend a few hours at the pool, then plenty of time to rest before dinner. “Hot, hot, hot.” Her daughters chanted and ran past her on their tiptoes. Jack made

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it to the boardwalk first, dropped his football, and snatched up the hose. The ball bounced down the steps, and an unbidden image of a man came to mind: Tall, broad, dark hair on his head and his chest. Nice, and nice looking. Not that she had been looking, but she wasn’t blind. And the way he’d played with her son? Not once in Jack’s five years had his own father played with him like that. And now he never would. Abby climbed the wooden steps between waving sea oats as the smells drifted and merged: sunscreen, salty air, and rotting seaweed. She’d just set Charlie on his feet and pushed her bags well away from the spraying water when a screeching voice pierced her ears. A tall redhead in a sparkling orange bikini stood behind her, eyes wide open just like her mouth.

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“Oh. My. God.” The redhead gaped at her glittering top like she’d been peed on. Her platinum-blond friend glanced up. “What?” Big Red dabbed at her beaded suit. “That kid just sprayed me. Stupid,” she muttered. Good grief. Jack had not sprayed her. The wind might have blown a slight misting in her direction. The way the woman had reacted, you’d think she’d melt. Doubtful. Jack turned with the hose, nearly spraying the woman for real. “Mom, she said ‘stupid.’ ” “Hi.” Gracie smiled up at the redhead. “I wike your baving suit. I have a Barbie wif an orange baving suit.” Abby adjusted the hose in Jack’s hand, pointing it at his feet before the Wicked Witch of the East had a meltdown. “Can’t you get wet?” Eyes round with wonder, Gracie gazed up at the tall woman

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studiously ignoring her. “Are you a mermaid?” “She’s not a mermaid,” Annie whispered. “She could be,” Gracie said. “You don’t know.” Abby picked up her youngest and rinsed his little feet, then handed the hose to Annie. “I told you we should have gone up a different way,” Blondie said. “This is ridiculous.” Right. Children rinsing off sandy feet on the beach boardwalk. Insane. Abby took a calming breath and let it out. The best reaction is no reaction. At least that’s what her social worker had always said. “My turn.” Gracie hopped from foot to foot like a jumping bean. “I need to winse. I’m not a mermaid.” —

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Matt scanned the balcony of the resort’s main restaurant, nestled between the highrise condominiums, and absently took in the other guests: an elderly couple; a family of four; a large, boisterous party raising glasses of red wine. His table next to the white stone railing gave him a clear view of the pool below, and the happy sounds of families enjoying an evening swim reached him in bursts. All this against a backdrop of rustling palms, their trunks wrapped in twinkling lights, which were becoming more visible in the fading light of dusk. “I need another drink,” Kimmi said. “Matt, get me a—” “Excuse me.” Rob shot out a hand to a passing waiter and took care of it. Matt continued sweeping the area out of habit until his eyes landed on a table a few yards away and stopped. The woman he hadn’t met on the beach and all four kids sat directly in his line of sight three tables away.

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They were all dressed for dinner—dry clothes instead of bathing suits, sandals instead of flip-flops. “Did you see that one, Matt?” Kimmi was talking movies. “No,” he answered absently. They got their food, and he ate his steak and lobster as the conversation continued around him, but throughout dinner he kept one eye on Jack’s mother. She’d made the sign of the cross and led the kids in the Catholic dinner prayer, one he’d said at every meal eaten in his house since birth. She smiled a lot, laughed a lot, as she worked the table with calm efficiency. It was hard to look anywhere else. “Well, I’d rather go to The Bouncer,” Kimmi was saying. “The guy on the radio said that’s where the beautiful people go. What do you think, Matt?” “I don’t care.” Because he had no intention of going anywhere with Kimmi. She’d almost

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caused a brawl at the bar last night. Not surprising. That’s what happened when you rubbed yourself up against too many poles of testosterone. Rob would have to entertain them tonight. His cousin had dug this hole and he didn’t seem to mind being ass deep. Matt tuned them out as the band played, the guitar and violin creating an inviting beat. A silky male voice carried the tune, luring guests to the makeshift dance area. Jack’s mother had taken the kids down to the patio. Matt sipped his beer and watched. Built like a dancer, with small bones and long lines, she moved to the music with the same grace. Not a girl trying to attract attention but a woman who couldn’t help being sexy. And she fascinated him. Her sleeveless top revealed narrow shoulders and sun-kissed skin. A short white skirt flowed around her knees, showing off sexy legs and strappy heels. But it was the

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way she swayed and spun, cradling the smallest boy to her chest, her cheek lying on his blond head, that held him fixated. Jack galloped over, waving his arms wildly, and she threw her head back, the sound of her laughter stolen by the wind. He still didn’t know her name. And she was still alone. The little boy wiggled out of her arms and she took the girls by the hand. They twirled on the ends of her fingers, admiring the way their silky sundresses flared. Matt imagined dancing with her, as he’d seen his brothers do with their wives. How her small body would feel in his arms, the children laughing and dancing around them. “What are you staring at?” Kimmi sent him a narrow-eyed glare then stretched her skinny neck to peer over the balustrade. She shook her head and rolled her eyes when she didn’t see anything of interest.

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And she wouldn’t. A mother dancing with her children wouldn’t be of interest to someone like her. But it was to him. When the torturous dinner finally ended, the foursome made their way down the wide stone steps, which deposited them on the brick patio. The band played an upbeat country tune and Rob spun Brittney into his arms. Matt wouldn’t cave to Kimmi’s orders to join her on the dance floor. She finally gave up and went off in pursuit of a willing male, leaving him free to sit at the weathered outdoor bar alone. He nursed his drink and searched the crowd until his eyes locked on their target. She sat at the top of three wide steps dividing the upper patio from the pool. His chest clenched along with other parts, watching the woman lick the last of her ice cream

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cone. The bourbon burned his throat as he tossed back the remainder. Jack finished his ice cream sandwich and moved on to the wrapper, while both girls worked on orange Push-Ups, Matt’s personal favorite. The little one steadied himself with a hand on his mother’s shoulder, looking like he’d fallen face first into a puddle of chocolate. It was a lucky man who had a woman like that, kids like that. His brothers did, but he’d made different choices. Different promises. She rose from the steps and nodded to Jack, handing her wrapper to the youngest boy. The two boys raced toward the trash bin completely unaware of their collision course with a fast-moving country line dance. In a flash, one corner of the dance floor turned into something resembling a freeway pileup. A short, plump woman took a twostep and plowed into Jack, who knocked into the toddler, who reached out his chocolate-

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covered fingers to break his fall. And he did. Then slid to the ground, wiping his icecream-smeared face as he went…all the way down Kimmi’s white pants. Matt was already moving as diva number two twisted to examine the damage. He picked up the little boy, sprawled and whimpering on the brick. “Oh. My. God. That little…” Kimmi sputtered, struggling to name what she was looking at, “baby ruined my pants. Where the hell is its mother?” The boy hid his sticky face in Matt’s neck as his mother took a step forward. Kimmi whirled on her. “Is that your frickin’ kid?” The woman reached for her son, but the boy clung to him tightly. “It was an accident. He didn’t—” “He’s an accident! Jeez. Why don’t you practice a little birth—”

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Matt stepped between the two women, facing off with Kimmi. “Stop talking.” “I’ll be happy to pay for dry cleaning.” Matt looked back at the boy’s mother as Kimmi continued her rant. “Dry cleaning? That isn’t going to help. They’re ruined!” Kimmi’s voice rose to a fullblown screech. “Are you going to pay for fivehundred-dollar pants?” “No. She isn’t,” Matt said between clenched teeth. “Excuse me?” Kimmi gaped at Matt, then at the petite woman next to him. “Is this who you were staring at when you were eating dinner with me?” She jerked a finger at herself and wobbled. sh*t. The woman he had been staring at glanced from Kimmi to him, then back to Kimmi. He could see her making the connection, one that didn’t exist. It bothered him that she thought it did.

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“Leave it alone,” he said, glaring at Kimmi, but she was too far gone on booze and bitchiness. “Banging a married woman at the beach, Matthew? That’s so un–Boy Scout of you.” “Stop. Talking.” Matt’s words were quiet but hard and he shot a meaningful look at Rob, who’d just joined them. “Hey, that’s the kid who sprayed—” Rob pulled Britney back with an arm around her waist, but Kimmi still wasn’t done. “God, tell me one of these isn’t yours.” Priority one was to get them away from Kimmi’s spewing venom. “Let’s go.” With a hand on the mother’s back, Matt guided her and her kids away from the patio. Away from the drunken crazy woman. Currently sleeping in his condo. The little boy’s arms tightened around his neck and the sound of sandals tapped on the

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walkway. His senses narrowed to the woman beside him: The warmth of her skin seeping through the thin fabric; her delicate scent. The mere presence of her walking next to him. When they were clear of the crowd, he stopped, turned, and was hit hard again by the beauty of the woman in front of him. She reached to take her son, and the boy slid out of Matt’s arms and into hers. “Thank you.” Her words were muffled in the boy’s hair. He should say something. Apologize. But any words he might have spoken stuck in his throat like the worst MRE field ration, and before he could shake them loose, she was walking away.

Chapter 2 Abby had just gotten the last child into bed when her cell phone rang. “Wild West Saloon. Sorry, we don’t deliver.” “Very funny. What made you think it was me?” “Because you’ve called me at exactly nine o’clock for the past three nights.” And her friend Angie was the only person who ever called her. Abby walked to the kitchen, poured herself a glass of milk, and grabbed some Oreos. “Did you set a call Abby alarm or something?” “Honey, I set an alarm to pee.” Abby laughed. Angelina Mancini was the closest thing Abby had to family. Third-generation Italian with wild, electrocuted hair, her first words to Abby had been whispered

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in a birthing class: Anyone who tells you they delivered naturally is a lying bitch and probably has a vagin* you could drive a truck through. For reasons Abby still didn’t understand, Angie and her husband, Joe, a firefighter from New Jersey, had latched on to her that night and didn’t let go. Even now, a year after their family had moved, Abby expected her friend’s calls to taper off, but they hadn’t. Not yet. “Have you met anyone interesting?” Sinking into the couch cushions, she sighed and put her feet up. “Are you going to ask me that every day?” “Maybe.” “No, I haven’t and I’m not looking.” Not ever going to be looking. “Maybe it’s time you started.” “Angie, please, I’m six months—”

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“I know. You’re six months pregnant, you have four kids, you don’t need anyone, blah, blah, blah. I’ve heard it all before, and I think it’s a load of crap.” Abby dunked her cookie. “Wow, someone’s in a mood.” Angie ignored her. “You and I both know you could move on today, tomorrow, yesterday.” “I have moved on, and I’m in a really good place.” But she understood what her friend was saying. If Josh hadn’t gone down in a plane crash six months ago, he still wouldn’t be with her. He’d be on another continent crunching numbers for billion-dollar clients. She’d come in a distant second. The kids hadn’t even made his list. All the promises in the world hadn’t kept him from the next big deal. Hadn’t made him stay. But he was just the last in a long line of people to leave. And he would remain the last.

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“Are you listening to me?” “I hear you.” “Hearing’s not the same as listening. I should make you look me in the eye when I’m talking to you, like I do Joe and the kids.” “Pretty hard to do through the phone.” Angie let out a frustrated sigh. “So, how are things going? I know you’re like mother extraordinaire and all, but I’m really sorry we bailed at the last minute.” “It’s fine,” Abby said, rubbing her lower back. She wouldn’t say “extraordinaire,” though she tried. And she found the chaos oddly comforting. “You’re so boring.” “Okay, here’s something for you.” Abby recounted the fiasco at dinner and sipped her milk. “Damn. Wish I’d been there.”

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They were quiet for a moment, Angie probably daydreaming about a catfight, Abby thinking of Mr. Take Charge. She could have argued with him or protested, but that seemed stupid since she’d been about to leave anyway. Making waves had never been her style. “Then what happened?” Abby knew what Angie thought. All of it dirty. “What do you think happened? I left.” “That’s it?” Angie sounded disappointed. “No. We came back to my condo and had wild monkey sex while the kids watched a movie in the other room.” “Hey,” Angie said, offended. “There’s nothing wrong with that if you turn the TV up loud enough.” Abby made a noncommittal sound. She wouldn’t know anything about having hot, spontaneous sex. All she knew was cool, subdued, and only when convenient.

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“You’re still meeting us at the water park on Thursday.” It wasn’t a question. “Yes, I’ll be there.” Four kids at Raging Rapids would be a true test of endurance. “Oh shi— shortstop,” Angie said. “I’ve been found. Sorry. Gotta go, hon.” “No problem. We’ll talk later.” Abby hung up, dunked another cookie, and popped the whole thing into her mouth. Savoring the softened chocolate, she thought about Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. He’d been so sweet playing with Jack earlier, but when she’d put it together, who he was with, she’d felt a strange disappointment. Stupid. Why would she care who he was with? She certainly didn’t need him to be with her. —

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Matt stood in the kitchen of his condo and pulled a beer from the fridge. Nice freakin’ vacation. He walked onto the balcony, the woman’s face burned into his mind. He could almost hear his best friend, Teddy, laughing at him for getting all sappy over a girl. You don’t even know her name. So. So? T mocked. You want her. Shut the hell up. Just like so many conversations they’d had, sitting in bars, tossing back beers. T would’ve had a lot of fun with a ballbuster like Kimmi. And no doubt he would have said something to get his balls busted. Matt smiled as he sipped his beer and stared out at the beach. How many dark beaches had he and Teddy crawled across? How many black oceans had they bobbed in,

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talking sh*t, keeping each other moving when it seemed impossible? How many latrines had they cleaned thanks to Teddy? More than the rest of their hall combined. T had gotten them into trouble faster than Matt could get them out. But it had worked. And it’d been damn fun. After months of live-fire SEAL training, their first mission as part of Team 2 had been a hell of an initiation. He and Teddy had sat, backs pressed against rough stucco walls. Two against twenty. Not the best odds, but not the worst. It replayed in his mind, crystal clear. Like every mission. Bullets flying; dirt and rocks kicking up, stinging his skin. Matt took inventory of his remaining arsenal. His night-vision goggles were the only reason he was seeing anything in this dark-as-sh*t night. The six-man detachment had already retrieved the hostage

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and were making their way to the extraction point. Matt looked at T, who read his unspoken question. What do you got? T gestured to his handheld grenade launcher and held up three fingers. He pointed to the three main buildings surrounding them. Matt gave him a thumbs-up. That’s all they needed. Matt counted off and rolled, laying down a river of cover fire. T hit the first building in an explosion of plaster and men. Matt picked off anything still moving while his friend hit the next one. A lull in the enemy firepower told them it was time to haul ass. Matt pushed against the stucco building and took off. His boots dug into the half-sand, half-grass terrain. The blessed whomp, whomp, whomp of the waiting Black Hawk called them home like the mother ship.

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At ten yards he could make out Decker and Rocky braced in the cabin door, M4s in hand, fingers on the triggers. Matt hit the opening at full speed. The rotors whirred, the bird on the verge of liftoff. Ping! Ping! f*ck. They were taking fire from the hills. Not the way they’d just come. The pilot’s voice came through Matt’s comm as he took the helo off the ground. “Get their asses in here!” Matt spun around on his knees, ready to give T an extra hand, while the boys lit up the hills. What the f*ck? Stupid son of a bitch. Their ride hovered a foot off the ground and T stood there loading a fourth grenade he must have pulled out of his ass. Ping! A bullet hit two inches from the fuselage, flinging an orange spark. Another hit

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the windshield, and the bird raised another foot. “Get your cowboy on board!” Matt almost smiled at the panic in the man’s voice. Pilots were damn testy about their babies getting hit. Teddy let loose with the grenade and turned as the mountain exploded behind them. He dove toward the opening now hanging six feet off the ground and rising. Matt stretched over the edge, reaching both arms as far as he could. He grabbed T’s arm while Deck and Rocky continued hitting the mountainside and Mason provided cover to the west. T finally got one arm in far enough to hook on to Matt’s belt, his lower half still hanging in the wind. The pilot banked right. If T went out that door, their pilot wasn’t making it back alive. Matt grabbed T’s other elbow, trying to give him the leverage he needed to swing his

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leg up. The whiz of a bullet singed the hair off the back of his hand. Teddy’s body swung twenty feet off the rocky terrain. Their ride home picked up speed. Matt stretched a little farther to get ahold of T’s belt. With a surge of strength, T went from dangling over a desert death to landing face down in Mason’s crotch. “No, thanks, Wilson. You’re not my type.” Thirty seconds later and safely away, the pilot’s voice crackled. “I almost left your stupid ass, T-man.” Teddy leaned back against the safety of the helo. “Couldn’t let the f*ckers take down your baby bird, could I?” He looked at Matt, flashing a devilish grin that pretty much summed up his friend. “Just making things interesting.” Matt raised his fist to bump T’s. “Hooyah.” Bunkmates. Teammates. Best friends.

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Until that friend had come home in a body bag. Matt stared at the ocean below his condo balcony, fighting the gory memories, teetering between punching the wall and crying like a baby. When he finally closed his eyes against the stars and drifted into sleep, he dreamed of a nameless angel who smiled and danced and carried new life inside her, a little girl with curls and a yellow bucket, and chocolate ice cream on smooth, tan shoulders.

Chapter 3 The morning sun reflected off the meandering, free-form pool. Ornamental grasses and tropical flora offered intermittent patches of shade. “Mommy, can we get in?” Gracie asked. “Sunscreen first.” Abby dug in her beach bag for lotion, then started at Annie’s shoulders and worked her way down. The others sat waiting, feet dangling in the water. She glanced around for Wicked Witch of the White Pants, not really expecting to find her at the family pool. Her mind strayed to the tall man with horrible taste in women. But wow. He had looked good in that shirt. Stark white dress shirt against his dark complexion, cuffs rolled up, his hands so big that one had covered Charlie’s entire back. And

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he hadn’t been at all concerned with clinging chocolate fingers. “Hey.” Abby froze, then peered up at the man blocking out the sun with his big body. He stood close enough she had to crane her neck to see his face. And he continued to stand there, not saying another word. Oh. Yeah. Probably waiting on her. “Hi,” she finally choked out. “Mind if I sit?” “Um, sure.” But he was already halfway down, not waiting for her mumbled response. He wore dark blue swim trunks and a gray T-shirt with the word “Navy” stretched tightly across his chest. A huge presence in a small space. The lounge chairs were packed so closely together their knees practically touched. He smelled nice—not a heavy cologne smell but a more subtle man-product

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scent, like aftershave. The kind of smell that woke up more than your nose. “Hey!” Jack joined them, all smiles to see his football-throwing friend. She finished Annie and went for Jack. “Sunscreen,” she told him, pulling him closer. True to his honest and forthright nature, Jack blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Your girlfriend is mean.” “Jackson Moore!” Abby admonished. “Well, she is,” he insisted, trying his best to dodge her efforts to lotion his crinkled nose. “Is she your friend? Because you don’t have to be friends with people that are mean, but you can’t hit them. Right, Mom?” “Right.” Abby held the back of Jack’s head to keep him still. She really needed to teach her son not to voice every thought. “No, she’s not my friend,” he said. Abby gave him a quick skeptical glance.

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Jack smiled. “That’s good. I don’t like girls either. What’s your name?” “Matt, and you’re right. She is mean. But some girls are nice.” He said the last part looking right at her. Good grief. He must catch a million unsuspecting girls with that movie-star handsome face. Gracie climbed up beside Matt, clamping a small, wet hand onto his shoulder. She leaned around so they were nose-to-nose. As if hearing her wasn’t going to be enough, she had to make sure he saw her too. “Hi.” Abby gave Jack’s back a pat. “Okay, you’re free.” “Are you going to tell me your name?” Matt’s deep, smooth voice matched his soft brown eyes, and she couldn’t help wondering why he was here. With her. Gracie wobbled on the uneven slats of the lounge chair, then steadied herself by

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grabbing on to the sunglasses strap hanging around his neck. “Her name’s Mom.” Matt laughed and caught his glasses. “Hi, Mom.” She pulled her daughter off the chair and stood her between them. Okay, she was a nice enough person, her looks didn’t repel people in general, but this was a man who definitely had more options than a pregnant woman and the preschool crowd. All thought evaporated with the intense sensation of dropping off the highest point of a roller coaster. Brain scramble. Had he asked a question? Yes. Name. “Abby. It’s Abby. My name.” His smile widened and she fumbled with the bottle of sunscreen, inwardly groaning at how stupid she sounded. She had little experience with men and zero with flirting. Not that she was trying to. Which was good, since

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saying her name was obviously more than she could handle. “Hi, ladybug,” he said to Gracie. “I’m not a wadybug!” Matt looked shocked. “You’re not?” “No, I’m a girl.” Gracie giggled, eating up the attention, while Abby covered her in lotion. The man was observant. Her daughter did have on her red and black polka-dot suit with flaps of tulle in the front. “Watch me!” Jack yelled. They turned in time to hear the splash and see Jack come up looking immediately to Matt for approval. “Good one.” Matt gave him a thumbs-up. Charlie was next and he stood between them, his little hands on Matt’s knees as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

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“All right, everyone’s free to get in.” Abby moved to the side of the pool and sat with her feet swishing slowly in the water. Matt sat beside her but didn’t speak, and she wondered again what he was doing hanging with her. “Oh, I really do want to pay for your girlfriend’s pants, so—” “Not my girlfriend.” “Well, anyway.” She hesitated after his gruffness. “I’m sure Charlie did ruin them. Can you find out how much I owe her?” Gracie dog-paddled over from the steps and grabbed the wall between them. “I can hold my breff underwater.” She squinted up at Matt. “Want to see?” “Definitely.” Still holding on to the side, Gracie stuck the smallest bit of her face into the water for all of two seconds, then came up dripping and gasping for air.

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“Amazing.” Matt clapped his hands. “I took care of the pants. Don’t worry about it.” “Okay.” Abby drew out the word, starting to lose her patience. “Then could you please tell me how much? I’d rather not owe you either.” “I took care of it.” His eyes tracked Gracie as she paddled back to the steps. “Let’s just leave it at that.” Abby let out a long breath. “Why are you trying to frustrate me?” His mouth cracked into a lopsided grin. “I’m not trying to frustrate you. I’m trying to relax.” “Really?” She co*cked her head. “You do realize you’re at the kiddy pool?” “Yeah, I noticed.” He raised a hand toward her face and the arm he was leaning back on brushed against her shoulder. A chill ran through her at the contact, and she had a wild vision of him leaning in, kissing her.

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Instead he gently pushed her glasses back up her nose since they’d slid down. Abby sat back, putting a finger to her glasses where he’d just touched them. For no reason at all she smiled. Ridiculous. She bent forward to dip her hands into the water and hide her red face. “You’re in the navy?” “Yep.” Okay. Man of few words. The girls swam over with their Barbies. Annie’s doll had hair issues and Gracie’s was naked. “Her bavin suit is stuck.” Gracie handed him the doll and the suit, then grabbed on to the wall again. “Ah, the challenges of clothing a doll with freakishly long arms and legs.” As he picked up the doll to inspect the problem, Gracie lost her grip on the side and sank into the water, which was half an inch too deep for her even on her tippy toes. Matt dropped the

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doll to rescue the girl, pulling her up easily and setting her in his lap. He wiped the dripping hair from Gracie’s eyes, then set to work on Barbie’s clothes. Abby stared at the smooth, tan skin of his powerful forearms, his sleeves stretched around biceps she could maybe circle with two hands. His muscled arms wrapped protectively around her daughter, his eyes intent on a little girl’s toy. “You can’t wook at her boobies!” Gracie screamed, loud enough so that everyone within twenty feet turned to see who was looking at whose boobies when they shouldn’t be. Matt quickly covered the half-naked doll with his large hands and gave Abby a startled, guilty look. “How am I going to fix her clothes if I can’t look at her?” Matt asked Gracie.

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“I’ll cover her up,” she told him sweetly and placed her little hands over his big ones. “Now you can do it.” The embarrassment playing across his face was too funny, and Abby made a small, unsuccessful effort not to laugh. Then she was distracted again by the man who looked like he’d be more comfortable reassembling a rifle. It was tricky to get Barbie’s long, spindly arms through the correct holes, especially without looking, but he eventually did, and Gracie belly-flopped into the water and kicked to the pool steps. Matt shifted his focus to Abby, raised an eyebrow. “What?” “You could’ve helped.” “Yeah. Sorry about that.” She struggled to keep a straight face. “You…ah, play with Barbies a lot?”

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“Ha-ha. Are you finished? That lady over there is staring at me like I’m a perv.” “Well, you did look at her boobies without permission. You should’ve seen your face.” A sexy smile played on his lips. “Next time I’ll ask.” They sat watching the kids play, neither of them saying anything until Matt broke the silence. “I really am sorry about last night.” “It’s really okay. How did you end up with them?” “Rob’s my cousin. I drove him here to meet the blonde.” “Mom, get in!” Jack yelled. Abby hopped into the pool and held out her hands to Gracie, who dog-paddled toward her. She pulled her daughter up for a kiss, then sent her paddling back to the wall. Charlie squealed, and when she turned to catch him, she was chest-to-chest with a shirtless Matt. Her already scorching

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temperature soared. Hot skin over sculpted muscle burned her palms, flattened against him. She would have stumbled back, but he caught her with a gentle hand at her elbow. Lord, he was a lot of man. She was five feet five; he had to be almost a foot taller. Abby’s face heated and her heart raced. Charlie lunged off the steps, grabbing on to Matt’s arm, and she silently thanked him for the diversion. Being close to this man did funny things to her. The six of them played in the pool for over an hour. Gracie never tired of swimming back and forth from her to Matt, and the boys begged him to throw them again and again. “Guys, give Matt a break.” She’d said it a hundred times, but Matt ignored her and the kids ate it up. Except Annie, though she did observe with even a keener interest than usual.

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It was impossible not to notice his broad shoulders, the way the muscles in his back and arms flexed when he threw Jack across the pool. At least three women tripped walking past him from the bar. Wrapped up in kid games, Matt gave no hint he noticed. Even Annie was entertained when he showed them his trick of squirting water from his hands after telling them he held a spitting frog. They spent a few minutes trying to squirt each other. Abby was a dismal failure. Which was fine, until Matt cupped her hands in his. Her heart skipped as her eyes dropped to where they touched. Heat poured from his body into hers, infusing every part of her. Including her cheeks. Crap. Please, don’t let him see me blushing. —

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Matt watched Abby’s throat work to swallow as color crept into her cheeks. Gorgeous. And adorable. “Um, time for lunch, guys,” she said, and practically ran out of the pool. Made sense if she was married, though the possibility was growing less and less likely. Abby hadn’t mentioned a husband and neither had the kids. There was no “Where’s Dad?” or “When your dad gets here.” Jack had said his father was dead, but Matt couldn’t completely ignore the wedding band. If she was married, where the hell was the guy? He didn’t mess around with married women, ever. Though this didn’t constitute messing around, did it? They were at a crowded pool with constant interruptions from the kids. At the same time, he knew if she was his wife, he would definitely have a problem with this situation. He wouldn’t

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want another man within ten feet of her sexy curves and heart-stopping smile. “Matt, if you come to the beach, we can build a sand castle,” Jack said, looking up at him, his brown eyes hopeful. “I can help. And I have my football.” “We’re going to the room for a little while,” Abby told her son. “Mom.” Jack strung her name into two unhappy syllables. “I want to build a castle with Matt.” He’d only come out here to apologize, maybe find out her name. He’d never expected to be sucked in. Never expected to want more. “We’ll come back out later.” Abby’s eyes flicked to his, then to her son’s. “We have all week to build a castle.” “I have to go in too,” Matt told him. Jack’s chin dropped to his bony chest in disappointment. “Okay.”

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Matt pulled on his shirt while the kids slipped on their shoes. Charlie spun around and tripped on the edge of his Buzz Lightyear towel. Man down. “Whoa, little guy.” Matt picked him up, checking hands and knees. No blood. Charlie was reluctant to let go, but Abby took him. Matt reached to pick up her bags since her hands were now full. “What are you doing?” she asked. “I’m helping you.” “I can do it.” She moved to pull the bag from his hand. “Thank you, but I don’t need help.” He grinned. “I think you do.” “Well, you’re wrong.” “Really?” He didn’t let go of the bag, heavy with wet towels. “Really. I made it out to the pool all by myself and I can make it back in.”

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She stared at him stubbornly, still holding the chunky toddler on her hip, his little leg pulled up over her swollen belly. Matt bet most men backed away when she pushed, but he’d been raised to be a gentleman. There was never a time he and his brothers didn’t hold the door for their mom and sister, or carry their heavy loads. His dad was firm on that. But in this case he just wasn’t ready to let her go. “Are you really going to help me build a giant castle?” Jack asked. “Cause we’re not going to stay in our room long. Right, Mom? Like maybe five minutes.” He and Abby shared a smile over Jack’s misconception of time. And maybe something more? “We’ll see. If Charlie could sleep for an hour it would make life easier for all of us.” Her eyes fell to the bag he was holding.

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Jack peered up at him. “Do you know how to find us? Our umbrella is blue, and you’ll probably see me because I have on this red shirt.” He pulled at his Spider-Man T-shirt. “I’ll look for you. You won’t forget, will you?” Something about the way Jack said it made Matt think the kid was used to being forgotten. “No, I won’t forget.” Abby set Charlie on his feet and reached for her bag again. This time he had no choice but to let it go. He tried to read her expression as Jack cheered. Anger? Skepticism? Whatever. She hadn’t said no. — Matt rooted around in his condo’s refrigerator and found enough meat and cheese to make one sandwich. If he was going to stay, he’d have to go to the store at some point.

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He sat on the couch, flipping through the TV channels, finding nothing and picturing Abby. And the kids— sh*t. Had he missed a birthday? Matt tried to think who had a summer birthday as he picked up his cell and called his brother Tony. “Well, if it isn’t the prodigal son,” his brother said into the phone. “You’re in big trouble, little bro.” There was a scream in the background. “Where are you? Sounds like you’re in a casino.” “The Chuck E. Cheese casino from hell. These kids are ruthless. It’s like they think these coins are real gold.” “Sounds dangerous.” “It is. Crazy little f*ckers.” Matt laughed. “Beth was smart enough not to go, huh?” “Of course. She’s looking at vagin*s.”

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“Fun.” He smiled to himself, rummaging for more food. “How’s my favorite doctor?” “She’s good.” Tony hesitated. “Now that she’s stopped throwing up.” “Why was she throwing…” Matt’s hand stilled on a cabinet. He’d heard the smile in his brother’s voice. “No way.” “Way. Number four will be here sometime next May.” Matt ignored the squeeze in his chest. “Damn. You’re like the master of procreation.” “Yep, and continue to be Mom’s favorite.” “Only you would have a baby to go to the top of the leader board. You think this puts you past Elizabeth?” His five brothers and one sister had kept a point system as kids, tracking who was Mom’s favorite. “I know it does, even with the extra point Lizzy gets for being the only girl. Grandchild trumps all.”

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“How’s Stephen?” Tony paused before answering. “You know. Stephen is Stephen.” Yeah. He knew. Stephen may have been the golden-boy real estate investing genius, but he was going through his own hell. And there was nothing any of them could do. “And J.T.?” His youngest brother was nineteen and not the easiest person to get along with. Or so he’d heard, since Matt wasn’t around much. “Jake’s just a hair above you, little brother. Prickly as hell. Acts like he’s premenstrual.” “Guess I’m still on the bottom.” “No visit, no points. So, how’s the trip with Rob? Prime-time action?” “Rob did okay. I got the bitch from hell. I’d have to have a grudge against my dick to even think about it.”

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Tony laughed under his breath. “I’m proud of you, little brother. Passing up on easy sex? A sure sign of maturity.” “f*ck you,” Matt said, but laughed. “Anyway, they left last night for parts unknown. Rob too.” “So, you heading back?” That had been the plan this morning. Before he’d spent two hours with Abby. He shook his head and tried not to grin like a fool, but there was something about her that made him smile. “Matt?” “Huh?” “I asked are you coming home?” “No.” Because the last two hours had been the best he’d had all week. All year. “I think I’ll just hang out.” “You may be completely off the board since Mom found out you went to the beach instead of letting her feed you.” There was a

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long pause. “She’s worried about you, you know.” Matt rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the guilt settling there. “She worries about everyone.” “It’s more than just your job.” He heard a sigh on the other end and cringed at what was coming next. “I’ve tried not to ask, but…something’s obviously going on with you, man. We thought you were done, your time was up. You make good money with the houses. I thought you were happy.” Matt had no idea what to say. He did like flipping houses and he had made a lot of money. Then Teddy had died and everything changed. He hadn’t told his parents what or why, hadn’t even told Tony, the one person he used to share everything with. “I’ve seen your truck a couple of times.”

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Damn. So, his brother knew he’d been in town and hadn’t bothered to call or come by. “I didn’t tell anyone,” Tony said. “Not even Beth.” Beth considered him the little brother she’d never had. She’d be hurt, and the kids would wonder why their favorite uncle chose to ignore them. “To be honest, I haven’t been the best company lately.” Not even for himself. “I know you lost a friend. I know it’s rough.” The silence hung between them like the sheet they’d used to divide their room as boys. “Hey,” Matt finally said, remembering the reason for his call. “Did I miss a birthday?” “Not yet. Anthony’s is next Tuesday. He’ll be seven.” “That’s good.” Some of his tension eased. He hadn’t forgotten his godson’s birthday.

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“Yep. Oh sh*t. I’m getting the signal. Time’s up.” “Good luck.” Matt clicked off his phone, grabbed a drink, and walked through the open sliding glass door. Baby number four. His brother was one lucky bastard. But Tony had known what and who he wanted since he was fourteen years old. He wanted to fly planes and he wanted Beth. He’d gotten both. Matt remembered watching Beth and Tony dance at Elizabeth’s wedding four years ago. At the time, he’d been a SEAL for eight years. Coming home was like transporting between two worlds, and he had a foot in both. He was part of a great family—the best—but as he’d watched them all pair up, he’d had the feeling he didn’t belong to anyone. Thirty years old, a dance floor lined with beautiful, willing women, and not one he’d been interested in. His dad always told him

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he’d find the right one when the time was right. It had hit him that night. As long as he was a SEAL, the time would never be right. Days later, at the outdoor firing range, the scene at the wedding had still niggled at him. Matt adjusted himself on the bench rest, MK11 steady in his hands. “You ever think about doing something different?” Teddy refilled the ammo clip of his own weapon. “I thought this was different.” “I mean with your life,” Matt said, lining up his target, his rifle a natural extension of his arm. “Look around.” Teddy raised his hand to the open, sunny range, the men sitting in groups, checking weapons and talking women. He grinned. “This is our life, dude. Best damn one there is.” Matt smiled. It was pretty sweet, and they’d worked damn hard to get here, but unlike his friend, who’d come from nothing and no one, Matt knew there was more.

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T laughed. “What are you gonna do? Hang up your rifle for a hammer?” The guys stood off to the side either cheering or taunting, depending on which way they’d bet. With his eye to the scope, Matt sighted the target eight hundred yards out. He took a breath, blew it out, and pulled the trigger. His third shot hit dead center. Decker, Chappers, and Rocky stood and exchanged money. “Damn, bro. Can’t do that with a hammer. And thank you, Mount McKinney. You just won me fifty bucks.” Matt laughed and shook his head. “Idiot. I told you to bet a hundred.” Three weeks later he’d been signed, sealed, delivered, and halfway to the other side of the world. Matt rested his arms on the railing and looked down at the people milling about like

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ants on the beach. A bright blue umbrella stood in the same place he’d seen Jack yesterday. He sipped his soda. The sun beat down, the walls of his balcony blocking any breeze. As always, it came suddenly. The air around him became stagnant. Oppressive. Suffocating. And he was back in the South American jungle. The diabolical f*ck they hunted dealt in anything that made money, notorious for taking hostages and using extreme torture during negotiations just for the pleasure of it. It was his team’s job to get the hostages out while they still had all their body parts. Extraction affirmative. He looked over at T, face smeared with black paint, same as his. Hot, soaked with sweat, edgy. They’d waited days for just the right moment. And it was now.

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Time and memories jerked in his mind. Thick smoke squeezed his lungs. Shots. Screams. Blood. Don’t quit. Matt jumped at the sound of the aluminum can strangled in his hand. f*ck. He stared as the cool liquid ran down his arm and dripped from his skin to the tiled balcony floor. For the past three days he’d craved silence; now he couldn’t stand it. Not the quiet or the static in his head. Building a sand castle with a five-year-old sounded like a damn good idea.

Chapter 4 “Mom, do you think Matt’s already there?” Jack asked. Abby led her crew down the long weathered boardwalk past waving sea oats and blowing sand dunes. “I don’t know, honey.” And that made one hundred and one times Jack had mentioned Matt since they’d left the pool. “Do you think he’ll be able to find us?” “I’m sure he will if he wants to.” Jack frowned. “Why wouldn’t he want to?” Because people didn’t always mean what they say. “I meant if he can. I’m sure he’ll come if he can.” “I want to go to the pool with Matt,” Gracie said. “We’ll go back to the pool tomorrow.”

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“With Matt?” “I don’t know, Gracie.” “Don’t you like Matt, Mommy?” Abby let out a long breath, not wanting to snap but weary of the questions. “Sure I do.” But I’m smart enough to stop there. Thankfully they reached the end of the boardwalk and the kids hit the sand at a run. She followed and dropped their bags under the umbrella, the one Jack had so carefully described. She spread towels, then picked up the mesh bag of sand toys. “Let’s dump these out and see what we’ve got,” she said, pulling at the drawstring top. No luck. She strained against the plastic, criminal-strength zip tie locking in the toys. Seriously? Who packed scissors in their beach bag? Jack dropped to the sand, painting on his best frown. “I’m waiting for Matt.”

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“No, you’re not.” They were not waiting on Matt or anyone else. She pulled on the bag again. “We need him,” Jack said. “He could open it and he knows how to build a castle.” “We don’t need”—she strained against the unbreakable plastic—“any…help.” Okay. Cleansing breath. Count to ten. “You know what? We don’t need these. Let’s just look at the picture.” Gracie placed an already gritty hand on her shoulder. “Will our castle look like that, Mommy?” Abby studied the design depicted on the bag. No way had the children in the picture built that. Probably wasn’t even made with sand. “Nope. Ours will be better.” Fifteen minutes and twenty loads of sand and water later, she had a giant, crumbling mess. Charlie took another roll down the short incline, coating himself like a piece of

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Shake ’n Bake chicken. Gracie and Jack inched closer and closer to the water, as if she wouldn’t see them. At least Annie stuck with her. Jack’s head shot up. “Matt! You came.” Abby looked up and there he was, walking straight toward her. Oh, Lord. He wore the same navy-blue swim trunks that hung almost to his knees and a plain white T-shirt. The blessed fabric accentuated every ridge and valley of his sculpted chest. “Matty!” Charlie ran headfirst into Matt’s legs, latching on to him with his sandy body. Matt smoothed his hand over the boy’s blond head and her heart did a complete somersault. “Hey, little man. Why are you wearing the beach?” Charlie arched his head all the way back to look up at him, eyes squeezed tight against the bright sun. “I at the beach.”

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“I see that.” Matt turned his attention to her. “Hey. You look surprised to see me.” She straightened to face the incredibly gorgeous man, who could be having drinks at the pool among a throng of admirers. “I guess I am.” “I told Jack I’d help him build a castle.” He made the statement like that explained everything. Jack pointed to the mesh bag abandoned in the sand. “We got some stuff, but it’s stuck in the bag. Mom can’t open it.” Great. Only five and already throwing me under the bus. Matt looked at the bag, then at her. “I don’t think we’ll need it.” Gracie joined them wearing hot pink sunglasses and a pale pink ball cap. “Hi, ladybug.” Gracie grabbed on to his other arm and lifted her feet, getting a free ride across the

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sand and causing Matt’s biceps to flex as he supported her weight. She should have told her daughter not to hang on him, but she could only stare. Jack chose a spot near the water and they got to work. They dug and carried and patted, Matt and Abby letting the children do the talking. An hour later they had an impenetrable fortress complete with a moat and a little bridge Matt had made with the sticks Gracie had gathered. Abby sat back, taking a break, letting Charlie drive his Matchbox car over her foot. Annie silently observed the group from where she made drippy castles a few feet away. Matt listened intently to Jack, their heads close together, as they discussed and planned the neighboring castle of bad guys. It dawned on her just how little time Jack had actually spent with his father. There hadn’t been any playing on the floor with blocks or trains, no working in the yard

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side by side, no guy time. Having his ideas and suggestions validated by Matt, someone he already looked up to, was priceless. Worth the price of eventual disappointment? That was the question, wasn’t it? Her answer had always been no. — Matt was all too aware of the woman sitting in the sand just a few feet away. The tension that had threatened to choke him an hour ago dropped another notch as the sounds of innocent voices blended with those of the ocean. “Mom, I’m hot,” Jack whined. “I want to swim.” “Remember what I said. We play in the sand and swim in the pool,” she told Jack. Then, with a quick glance in his direction, added, “No way can I watch four children in the ocean.”

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“But we’re hot. Please.” Jack and Gracie begged, looking to him to intercede on their behalf. “Peeze,” said Charlie. “I could use some cooling off. What if I take them out?” “No, you don’t have to do that.” She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, watching the waves. Matt watched the lip. “But, Mommm.” Jack wasn’t giving up. “The water’s calm. What if I hold their hands?” “Well.” Abby hesitated. “I guess.” She wet her lips, then rolled their pink fullness together. “If you’re sure it’s no trouble.” His mind jumped to how that mouth would feel…And, yeah, he needed to cool off. “Nope. No trouble.”

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When he’d given all the kids a turn in the water, except Annie, who politely declined, he dropped onto the sand next to Abby. She sat, leaning back on her hands, long, slender legs out in front, crossed at the ankles. Her skin looked smooth, and he imagined it feeling like silk as he ran his hands slowly from her sassy red toenails all the way up to her thighs. Okay. Maybe he needed more cooling off. The water rolled in waves, stretching endlessly to the horizon. And that was not what he wanted to look at. Say something, dumbass. “Your kids are great.” “Thank you.” She tilted her head slightly, giving him that smile again. The one that could bring a man to his knees. And it damn near took his breath away. “You didn’t have to play with them all day,” she said, her words genuine, her voice soft.

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“I enjoyed it.” “Well, so did they. I’m going to be the boring mom now,” she grinned, teasing. “Your castle-building skills are far superior.” I’d build one every day if I could look at you. “You have kids?” “No, just a slew of nieces and nephews.” She made a soft sound of understanding, then seconds passed as he struggled to think of something to fill the growing silence. Something witty or intelligent. “Where are you from?” Ah. Brilliant. “I moved around a lot. We live in Raleigh now. What about you?” “Near Virginia Beach.” He didn’t miss that she hadn’t exactly answered his question. With her attention on the kids, her expression turned serious. “I wanted this to be a

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great trip for them. It’s their first time at the beach.” They were all very busy, digging and gathering, looking for treasures. “I think they’re having fun.” Abby took a handful of sand and let it fall through her fingers. “More since you’re here. I’m kind of out of my element.” “Oh, I don’t know. You look like you’re doing okay.” Although he had noticed she had no beach chair. “Is this your first time?” “I’ve been once, a long time ago.” She focused on the water in the distance. Matt got the feeling there was more to say, but she didn’t say it. “It’s obviously not yours.” She gestured to the castle. “Nope.” He smiled, recalling family vacations and childhood memories. For some reason he didn’t mention he was a Navy

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SEAL. It seemed like too much of a pickup line, and this was different. She was different. He sat there beside her trying to figure out exactly why. “Hey, Matt, look at this,” Jack called. He tore his eyes away to see Jack, packing wet sand into a wall. “Good job.” “It probably seems stupid, a pregnant woman bringing four children to the beach alone.” Matt turned back, studied her profile. He ached to skim his fingers over her cheeks, to touch her, take her face in his hands. “Not stupid. Brave maybe.” She made a derisive sound like a laugh. “I don’t know about brave. I figured it was now or…well, not never, but”—she laid a hand on her belly—“not for at least a couple of years.” “Do you know what you’re having?” “A girl.”

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“That’s nice.” She raked her fingers over the sand and he caught sight of the ring again. For a man who lived and breathed patience and control, he was without either at the moment. And he needed to know. “I’m sorry about your husband.” Her hand froze and he immediately wanted to call the words back. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. Jack said his father died and I just assumed…” “He did. Die.” She twisted the gold ring on her finger. “My husband. He was killed in a plane crash six months ago.” Damn. He didn’t know what to say, and on top of that, he felt like an ass for being glad she wasn’t married. He shouldn’t be glad she was alone. Waves crashed onto the shore; the children’s voices carried on the wind. Neither spoke for a moment.

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“He never knew I was pregnant.” Well, sh*t. What could he say to that? “I’m really sorry.” “It’s really okay,” she said lightly, repeating their earlier words from the pool, as if she didn’t want him to feel sad or uncomfortable. The sun hung low, casting everything in a soft light, and when she raised her sunglasses to the top of her head, he was hit full force with the greenest eyes he’d ever seen. Brilliant and sparkling; light in the center, darker around the edges; glittering like glass. He didn’t look away, and their eyes held until he was sure she must feel the connection too. “Mom, we’re hungry,” Gracie yelled, running up, scattering sand. Connection broken. Abby dusted off her hands and looked at her daughter. “Guess it’s time to go.”

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Matt stood, offering her his hand and holding his breath when she hesitated. He wanted her to trust him. He wanted to hold her hand. She finally took it and he held it longer than necessary. Absorbing the feel of it, the softness and the smallness of it. She stood and their eyes met again, this time with her fingers still clasped tightly in his. Something moved inside him, slightly painful, like parts rearranging into a better fit. A blush crept up her neck and she pulled back ever so slightly, forcing him to let her go. Abby lowered the umbrella and directed the kids to gather their things. She handed a bag to the oldest girl, Annie, who’d spent most of her time alone, drawing pictures in the sand. She was quiet, that one. But he’d bet she didn’t miss a thing. “You need some help?” He knew what her answer would be before he asked.

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“No, thanks.” She loaded her arms with kid paraphernalia. “I’ve got it.” “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow?” Hell. He hadn’t meant for it to come out like a question. What was it about her? He felt like an eager puppy, wanting to chase after her and nip at her heels. Abby glanced over her shoulder, just a hint of a smile on her lips. “Maybe.” Then she followed the kids to the boardwalk. “Bye, Matt! I got to go have ice cream now.” He raised his hand to Jack and watched the five of them until the sea grass obscured his view. The beach suddenly felt vacant and quiet, which of course it wasn’t. The surf still crashed, seagulls still begged for food, and couples strolled between him and the water. But it seemed as empty as he suddenly felt.

Chapter 5 The morning sun hung like a bright yellow ball, already heating the sand under Abby’s feet. It would heat up the North Carolina coast to near a hundred degrees before it finished. The kids raced past her to the water as far as they were allowed. She’d needed to get away from him yesterday, away from his slow, sexy smile and knowing eyes. The intense way he held her gaze and her hand. However unwanted, her attraction had evidently multiplied overnight. But there was no mistaking Matt’s tall form striding toward her before she dropped her bags on the sand. He waved and smiled, and she waved back, then turned to raise her umbrella. His deep voice vibrated through and around her

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as he greeted the children. That alone caused a flutter in her stomach. Settle down. He’s only a man. Using the upper body strength she’d honed at the gym, she strained to crank the stubborn umbrella. She could do it. She’d done it yesterday. For God’s sake. Don’t look completely incompetent. “Need some help?” “No, I’ve got it.” He moved in behind her until he stood so close she felt the loose strands of her hair catching on his chest. Abby inhaled hot skin and male deodorant—a heady, masculine combination that had her struggling to focus. “Let me help you.” “I can do it.” She tried to sound forceful and confident, but it came out breathy and— “I know you can, but I can help.” His words whispered against her cheek. His arms came around her and he easily raised the

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umbrella, his body brushing hers with each turn of the crank. Then his arms were gone, leaving a strange void. She turned to face him. He was so close. Nothing between them but the warm breeze. His sunglasses hung around his neck, revealing chocolate-brown eyes. Beyond beautiful, deep and rich, fringed with black lashes. A strong man with soft eyes. Eyes that could talk a girl into anything. It was unnerving, being this close to him, especially wearing nothing but a bathing suit. Trying to imagine what he saw, she fought the urge to tug her top higher. Breasts on the small side—barely a C-cup when she was pregnant. Her straight dark hair hung in its usual ponytail, rebel pieces already flying free. A bit of tinted sunscreen was all the attention her face had received. Not what he was used to. Needing a reprieve from his hot gaze, she looked straight ahead. Big mistake. Fine

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black hairs feathered across sculpted pecs, swirling around dark nipples. Lord, she needed water. To drink or splash on her burning face, she wasn’t sure. She forced her gaze up and found him watching her intently. He raised his hand and brushed his thumb lightly across her temple. “Sand.” Her lips parted and she stood blinking up at him like a complete ninny, his smoldering brown eyes melting her into a puddle. “Hey, Matt. Where’s our castle? I brought my football. Can we throw in the water?” Jack shot off his questions, oblivious to the fact the two adults in front of him stood like frozen statues. Matt’s eyes held her captive another long second before he turned his attention to her son and she let herself breathe. “Yeah, sure. One sec.” He walked the few feet to where he’d left his beach chair and

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came back with two. “There.” He set up the chairs under her umbrella. “You’ll like it better with a chair.” “Thank you. If you tell me how much, I’ll—” “You’re welcome.” “Matt—” She reached for her beach bag, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Abby.” Her mind went blank at the feeling of his hot hand on her skin and the sensation he was touching her everywhere. “Matt!” Jack was about to burst a blood vessel he was so excited. “Coming.” Abby tried unsuccessfully to unglue her eyes as he walked down to the water. Matt’s sleek body dove through the waves as he played with Jack, and each time she held her breath, waiting for him to resurface. When he did, he burst through the water looking

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like a Greek god, chiseled out of smooth stone and coming to life right before her. But the way he smiled at her son and gave him high fives made him even more beautiful. And the way she’d felt standing between his arms…Ridiculous, but still the word “safe” came to mind. “Abby?” He stood in front of her, drops of water clinging to his arms and chest, dripping down the ridges of his stomach. Jack ran up beside him. “We’re swim buddies. Right, Matt? Matt says you should always swim with a buddy.” Matt’s raised eyebrows and the smirk he was fighting told her she’d been busted for gawking. “Do you want to come out? The water’s great.” “Um, no. No, thanks. I’m not a strong swimmer. I mean I can swim, I just—”

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“I’ll be your swim buddy.” He grinned and she caught a hint of dimples. Oh, Lord. “The ocean still hasn’t grown on you, huh?” She swallowed hard. “It’s growing.” — The morning passed and the six of them fell into an easy rhythm, building sand castles and digging holes. Easy conversation was interspersed with long comfortable silences. Abby relaxed in her chair as the dull roar of the sea played as a backdrop for little-kid voices alongside Matt’s deep one. She admired the way he moved with efficiency, every motion organized and purposeful. He worked on his knees like a kid, but nothing about him looked innocent. Muscled arms and shoulders flexed as he leaned on one hand and dug with the other. She

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counted three scars on his back and shoulder and wondered where he’d been, what he did. She was surprised she could even feel such an intense physical attraction to a man, but Matt’s lethal good looks and innate sweetness was an irresistible combination. But that other thing she felt, the tingling when he touched her or the flutter when he looked at her—that was dangerous. The kids gathered shells to decorate their castle, and Matt finally took a break, relaxing in the sand, hands behind his head. Charlie propped himself up against Matt’s bent legs and covered his giant feet with crushed shells. If he was asleep, it was short-lived as he was assaulted with thirty pounds of cuteness diving onto his chest. “Matt! Eat wunch wif me!” Gracie squealed when he lifted her into the air and sat up. “Eat wunch with you?”

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He raised one eyebrow as if to gauge Abby’s reaction to the invitation. “I thought we’d eat at the pool. Less sand,” she said. Matt stood and flew Gracie down and onto her feet. “Well, that’s an invitation I can’t turn down.” — The faint sound of Jimmy Buffett drifted from the speakers around the bar and grew louder as they neared the pool area. A jumble of round iron tables and chairs covered the patio shaded by tall palms rustling in the breeze. The Seaside Grille sat nestled against the main building, serving guests on the patio or poolside if they preferred. “Hey, princess, why don’t you pick out a table for us,” Matt said. Abby melted a little more at the effort he made to include Annie. They found a table

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and she unloaded, relieved to sit after the trek up from the beach in the heat of the day. “What does everyone want?” Matt asked. After the kids reeled off their orders, he looked to her. “What about you?” “Why don’t you go ahead, then I’ll get mine and the kids.” He ignored her and repeated what he had so far, not easy since they’d all changed their minds three times. “What do you want?” he asked her again. “You’re not buying our lunch.” “I am.” She reached into her bag for her wallet. “Abby,” he said with an impatient sigh, then covered it with a smile. “I’m not taking your money. Now, tell me what you want or I’ll surprise you.” When she didn’t immediately answer, he turned to the kids. “Who knows what Mommy wants for lunch?”

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Gracie knelt in her chair, belly against the table, arms outstretched, trying to reach Charlie across from her. “Mommy wikes a chicken sandwich, fwies, and soda.” Traitor. “Thank you very much.” Matt smiled, looking pleased with himself. “Be right back.” Mr. Take Charge returned with a tray full of food. The fries were salty and the co*ke was that perfect fountain-machine soda with plenty of fizz. Twenty minutes later the frenzy slowed, the kids doing more playing than eating, but Abby was too tired to move. A beep sounded from Matt’s pocket. He pulled out his phone, checked the screen, and laughed. “Purple People Eater,” he said, showing her a texted photo. “Best bike there ever was.” A smiling boy about Jack’s age sat on a very old and very purple bicycle with wide

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handlebars and a banana seat patched with silver duct tape. “That’s my nephew Alex.” “I want to see.” Jack scooted closer to Matt as Gracie moved into Abby’s lap. Matt handed the phone to Jack. “My brothers and I covered a lot of ground on that bike.” Annie looked up from her napkin origami. “How many brothers do you have?” “Five.” “Do you have sisters?” she asked. “One sister.” Annie studied him, then after a moment reached for a new napkin, and went back to her folding. Matt took the phone back from Jack. “We played cops and robbers with our cousins from morning ’til—” “What’s a cousin?” Gracie asked, easing ever closer to Matt.

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“Well, my mom and dad both have a lot of brothers and sisters, and—” “How many?” Jack interrupted. “My dad has seven and my mom has eight. All my parents’ brothers and sisters are my aunts and uncles, and their kids are my cousins.” Jack looked at her. “Do we have cousins, Mom?” “No.” “We don’t have a daddy either,” Gracie said, shaking her head. Matt looked down. “I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” Abby met his eyes over her daughter’s curls and got that warm feeling again, a little deeper this time. “Who wants to see funny pictures?” Matt asked. Gracie raised her hand. “Me!”

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Charlie stood on his iron chair, doublefisting fries, and lunged over his brother. With quick reflexes, Matt caught Charlie under the arms and settled him in his lap as Gracie inched onto his other knee. “Okay, let’s see what I’ve got,” Matt said, fiddling with his phone. He flipped to a photo of six good-looking men. “Who’s that?” Gracie asked. “My brothers.” They all had the same large build, same brown eyes, and similar smile, but even without his white jacket covered in ribbons and medals, she could have picked out Matt. His smile was different, a little lopsided, his eyes a bit more beautiful than the rest. Then there was a picture of Matt kissing the young bride on her cheek. “Is that your—”

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“Sister,” he told her, a smile playing at his lips. “Lizzy.” The next picture was of Matt still in dress whites, holding a baby in fluffy pink. “Who’s that?” Gracie sounded more than a tad jealous. “That’s my niece.” He was so close the hairs on his arm brushed hers and she felt his voice deep in her chest. Next was an older, more recent Matt standing with four other men, all of them in camouflage and gear, sweaty and smiling. Matt gave no details, his expression gave away nothing, but he looked at it longer than all the rest. She wondered again exactly what he did, what he’d seen, and she had the sudden urge to brush his hair back from his forehead, like she did to Jack and Charlie. An urge to hug him, even if he didn’t need it.

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There were older pictures, going by the eighties clothing. One of two little boys in Superman underwear with capes tied around their necks. Matt named the people in every photo and told the surrounding stories until she felt like she knew him. So many memories, Abby thought, and someone on the other end of the camera who cared enough to capture them. His mom probably. She’d had a school picture taken each year, though she didn’t have any to show her kids. There’d been no one to buy the package. Didn’t matter. She had her own family now and she took hundreds of pictures, always bought the whole package. Jack pointed to four little boys in football helmets swallowing their heads. “I’m going to play football. Right, Mom?” “Yes. You get to play—” “I should practice.” He turned to Matt. “Can we practice?” “Sure,” Matt answered.

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Jack was already out of his seat. Matt slipped his phone into his pocket and rose with a sleepy Charlie in his arms. She moved to take him, but Charlie had other ideas. He wrapped his little arms tightly around Matt’s neck, completely content to rest his head on Matt’s wide shoulder. Matt sent Abby a relaxed smile, as if holding a toddler in his arms was the most normal thing in the world. “Back to the beach?” Gracie grabbed Matt’s free hand and tugged. “Come on. I have to show you somefin. It’s weally portant.” Abby wanted to say no, not because she didn’t want to spend time with him but because she did. Too much. But how could she say no to something weally portant? Especially when Matt looked at her daughter like he cared. —

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It turned out the somefin Gracie needed to show him on the beach hadn’t actually been found yet. She led him by the hand, her big brown eyes searching the sand. “Matt, wook.” “What am I looking at?” “It’s a stick. See?” Before he could even pretend amazement, she darted to a piece of driftwood no bigger than his hand, asking him what it was, where it came from, and why did it come from there. It went on like that, up and down the beach, Gracie pinging from one thing to the next like a pinball. No sooner had he started to answer her questions than she bounced off to a new object, pulling him and his heart along with her. Gracie’s eyes were brown, but their sparkle reminded him of Abby. Everything came back to Abby.

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He and Gracie finished their exploration as the sun slid past noon into the west. Matt took some time to throw the football with Jack, then kicked back in his chair, listening to the kids playing in the sand a few feet away. Abby praised their construction efforts as she straightened hats and dabbed sunscreen on noses. The velvety sound of her laughter as her two-year-old Tasmanian devil spun across the sand brought a strange twisty feeling to his chest. He liked watching her when she didn’t know. There were no games. No trying to impress him. Just beautiful and real. The kind of woman a man would do everything in his power to keep. Abby settled in the chair beside him, and a calm washed over his mind like the waves of the Atlantic. For the first time in a long time outside of work, he felt like he knew what he was doing. Knew where he was supposed to be.

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She shifted, getting comfortable and he closed his eyes, pictured her cute little bottom wiggling in front of him. Abby. He liked to say her name, liked to think it. Minutes passed and he sensed her turning, felt her stare. Looking her fill, was she? Well, he’d make damn sure he got his turn. He forced himself to breathe slowly and evenly until he couldn’t take it anymore. “You’re staring,” he said, opening his eyes and angling his head, catching her in the act. She jerked back. “No, I’m not.” “You were. I felt it.” But she wasn’t nearly as close now and he regretted it. “You couldn’t have felt me,” she added. “I didn’t touch you.” “Well, I did.” “Superhuman powers?” He smiled at her snarky tone. “Close your eyes.” “What?”

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“Close.” She glanced at the kids. “I’ve got the kids. Trust me,” With his last words, her eyes snapped back and searched his, looking for…something, but finally obeyed. Her watched her a moment. Her chest rising and falling, the top of her bathing suit cupping soft, sweet breasts. He leaned in close enough to feel her breath and count each fine hair of her feathered brow and his own breath caught in his chest. She has no idea how beautiful she is. Because he had to touch her, he gently smoothed his thumb over her cheek. Her eyes flew open, met his, and an involuntary smile pulled at his lips, a warmth spread through him. Happiness maybe? Realizing how close he was to putting his lips to hers, he dropped his hand and forced himself to sit back. “Could you feel me?”

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“Of course I could. You were touching me.” Her hand came up and nervously tucked strands of hair behind her cute little ear. Yep. He effected her and she couldn’t hide it worth a damn. His smile grew. He’d let her think she could. For now. “What?” she asked, catching more silky strands in her fingers. “Don’t fight it.” She just stared at him. “Your hair.” He could smell it from here, the wind blowing her scent over him. “It wants to be down.” Keeping her eyes on his, she slowly pulled the elastic band from her hair and all that dark silk tumbled down past her shoulders. Damn. He needed a diversion. “So, now that you’ve seen me in my underwear, tell me something about you.” Her look of utter shock had him laughing. “The picture. Remember?”

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“Oh. Superman.” “What underwear were you thinking of?” “None. I mean…I wasn’t thinking of you in anything.” Interesting. A pretty blush spread over her cheeks and he chuckled as she dug herself deeper into a hole. “You know…um, Jack, he really likes Spider-Man underwear right now, but last month it was SpongeBob.” Matt was learning little things about her, like she babbled when she was nervous. “And Charlie, he’s obsessed with this dog from—” “You make me laugh.” Something he used to do a lot. “Now, tell me something about you I don’t know.” She chewed on her lip like he’d just asked her to recite a mathematical equation, and he did a quick kid check. Gracie dug with the

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single-minded determination of a trench digger. Jack looked up to find Matt watching him and lowered the bucket from above Annie’s head. The disappointment of a foiled plan was evident on his five-year-old face. Matt had antagonized his own sister enough to know. “Well?” he prompted. She adjusted her chair, fiddled with the strap on the bag beside her. “I don’t know. I really like your stories.” “Nope, I’ve talked about myself enough. It’s your turn.” Although if she didn’t want to talk, he’d be happy just to stare at her. He could do it all day and never get tired of it. The way she moved, the way her hair blew around her delicate shoulders. He pushed on because, among other things, he liked the sound of her voice. “I’m not going to tell you any more stories until you tell me one.” Of course he was bluffing.

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He’d talk all day if it kept her sitting beside him. “I’m an only child, so…there’s not really any funny stuff.” “Ah, just what we all wanted to be,” he joked wistfully. “The spoiled only child. What was it like getting all the attention, never sharing a room or a car?” A flicker of pain crossed her face but she covered as well as any of the guys in his platoon. “Hey, I was just kidding. I didn’t really mean you were spoiled.” “It’s okay.” She pushed her toes deeper into the sand. “I might have been spoiled. I don’t remember. My parents died when I was five.” sh*t. Matt looked at his feet. “I’m sorry. I’ve been going on and on about my family, showing pictures, and…Damn. I feel like an ass.”

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“Why? It’s fine. I’m fine. It was a long time ago.” Her smile was so forced it hurt. “There’s no reason to feel bad,” she told him. “We don’t even know each other.” Yes, we do. Or at least he wanted to know her like no other woman he’d ever met. “Abby.” He waited for her to raise her eyes to his. “I didn’t ask because I wanted to know about your family. I asked because I want to know you.”

Chapter 6 What? Wanted to know about her, he meant. Out of curiosity. Like you might want to know about your waiter or your mailman. But you didn’t want to know them. “Good grief,” Matt said, then softened his exasperation with a smile. “What’s your favorite color?” Really? Abby’s heart was pounding, so intensely aware of his nearness, and he was talking colors? “You’re serious?” “Yes.” He sat back, closed his eyes. “And that’s an easy question.” She bit at her nails. Okay, she could do this. She could be relaxed, or pretend to be, sitting inches from the most amazing man she’d ever met. She cleared her throat. “Blue.”

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“When’s your birthday?” “March third.” Not a day she celebrated. “If we’re playing twenty questions, we can at least take turns.” “Fair enough.” “Okay. Dogs or cats?” she asked. “Dogs. Real tree or fake?” “Real.” And one of her very favorite things about Christmas. “Doughnuts or cookies?” “Mmm, that’s a hard one. Are we talking homemade cookies?” She smiled at the question. “Yes, homemade.” “Then I’m going with cookies. Han Solo or Luke Skywalker?” “Neither,” she said sweetly. “I’d be Princess Leia, of course. Which one did you want to be?” “Solo,” Matt said with a sexy grin. “He got the girl.” Like I bet you do.

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Not a pleasant thought, Matt getting the girl. She imagined he left a string of heartbroken women in his wake. “Did you have the costume and everything?” “I did, but my older brother, Tony, always got to be Han, and our next door neighbor, also older than me, was Luke. I had to be Chewie. I’m pretty good, though. Want to hear it?” He did such an impressive impersonation of Chewbacca, she laughed until tears squeezed out of the corners of her eyes. She waved off Jack when he came over to see what was so funny, then she sat back, getting her breath, with a hand on her belly and a smile on her face. He was cute. Not a word you’d think applied to him at first glance, but… “Okay, now that you’ve gotten the hang of talking about yourself, tell me something no one else knows.”

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Would it sound too pathetic, she wondered, to say no one knew any of what she’d just told him? He leaned in close. “And make it good.” He’d meant it to be funny, but he didn’t understand how hard this was. In the world of foster care, you either tried to get noticed or you tried desperately to disappear. She’d gone with the latter. “Come on.” Matt gave her a playful shoulder bump. “I’m not that interesting.” He rolled his head against the back of the lounger and shot her a get real look. “Okay,” she huffed and pursed her lips trying to think of what to tell him. His attentiveness when he listened to the kids was endearing. Not so much when directed at her. “There’s a time limit.” “All right. Jeez.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “I hide Lucky Charms in my

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closet. And I eat them,” she added. “In the closet.” “You,” Matt began, pulling his sunglasses down enough for her to see his brown eyes twinkling with laughter, “should not tell people that.” Her answer was automatic. “I don’t.” “You told me.” Abby blinked, absorbing his words. Why had she told him? Their eyes locked in a grade-school staring contest. He was too big, too intense, too…She didn’t know, but something cut below the surface of wherever they’d been just minutes before. She caved first and looked away. “It wasn’t that interesting.” “Wrong.” His voice was so definitive she looked up. “Everything about you interests me.” She sat, pinned like a butterfly, weighed down under his intense gaze. Had she ever

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been the object of anyone’s undivided attention? And Matt wasn’t just anyone. “Breathe,” he finally said and sat back in his chair. She wasn’t breathing? And he’d noticed? Great. “Mommy, I’m hungwy. Let’s get ice cweam!” Abby checked the time. Almost four. Surprised they’d made it this long, she stood and Gracie cheered, taking the movement as a yes. Matt got up too, and Charlie grabbed on to the bottom edges of his swim trunks. “Looks like he’s adopted you,” Abby said, gathering her kids’ stuff, which seemed to have multiplied. “Like a pet?” Matt ran his hand over Charlie’s white-blond hair as her son looked up at him, his cherub face all brown eyes and bright smile.

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“Hmm, maybe a pony,” she teased. “A pony? Stallion maybe.” She smiled at the mock insult in his voice and fought not to glance at his shorts. Matt picked up Charlie like a man who’d done so a thousand times. A few steps on the hot sand and Gracie ran to Matt’s side, arms raised, looking for a free ride. He scooped her up too, never breaking stride. When they reached the boardwalk, Matt put Gracie down and knelt to rinse Charlie’s sandy feet. A sick feeling slithered through her. The scene was too perfect, too real. Just the type that always preceded a crushing blow. Walk away now. Before you get attached. Before you get hurt. “You don’t have to come,” she blurted. He looked up from working Charlie’s feet into his little rubber shoes and sent her a

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questioning look over his shoulder. “You don’t want me to?” Yes, she did. That was the problem. Stupid, said another voice. It’s ice cream, not a life promise. He was free to eat what and where he wanted. “I just meant you don’t have to. I mean I don’t want you to think I need you. To help me, that is, because I’m pregnant and you’re a gentleman and everything.” He straightened, freezing her with a look. “I rarely do anything I don’t want to do.” “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it,” she said, doing her best to ignore his hot gaze. “I mean you’re always carrying bags or chairs—” “Or people,” Matt added. “Right, and I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I just don’t want you to feel like you’re obligated or—”

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“Abby, take a breath. I like you. I like the kids.” His mouth turned up in a smooth, easy smile and his eyes glinted with laughter. “I like ice cream.” She bit the inside of her mouth, trying not to grin like a fool. He had that effect on her—made her nervous and giddy at the same time. “Okay, then. Let’s go get ice cream.” They walked through the crowd of tables and people until they found a place to sit by the pool. She couldn’t blame the female gawkers as Matt passed in front of each lounge chair with Charlie on one hip, pulling at his sunglasses, and Gracie on the other, working his hair into spikes. He was heart stopping. He was a hero. But he’s not my hero. He’s not my anything. Matt put the kids down on the lounge chair next to her. “I’ll get in line for ice cream.” He was halfway to the snack counter

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when Charlie scrambled off and chased after him. “Matty!” He weaved through the iron chairs and tables. “Matty!” Charlie’s voice carried across the crowded space, and Matt stopped and turned. Abby witnessed the next three seconds in slow motion, each image clear, each second a snapshot in time. A big woman in a flowing, floral cover-up scooting back her chair. The toe of Charlie’s tiny Croc catching on the iron leg. His little arms raising instinctively to brace for impact, not yet coordinated enough to halt his trajectory. She felt the thud like a baseball bat to her heart as his blond head hit the concrete. Then nothing. Three seconds stretched into an eternity. Charlie didn’t cry, didn’t move. Another second and her hearing came rushing back with the sound of her baby’s screams and Matt’s commanding voice.

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“Move!” The crowd parted and Matt eased him up before anyone else could touch him. So much blood. Running into his eye, dripping onto Matt’s arm, turning Charlie’s blond hair an obscene shade. Her mother’s face. Her mother’s arm. Dripping into a puddle. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. She’d never seen blood on her children. They’d never had more than a scrape. But now…She’d like to think she would have snapped to it after the initial shock, but she never got the chance. A man of action, Matt took charge. Ignoring the concerned crowd, he made his way toward her. “Gracie, hand me Charlie’s towel.” He took the folded froggie towel and rolled it down his thigh to make it even thicker, all the while keeping a screaming, squirming Charlie cradled tightly against him.

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“Shh, buddy. It’s okay now.” Matt pressed the towel firmly against his head, never taking his eyes from Charlie’s. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.” Abby held Charlie’s hand as he pushed frantically at the towel. “It’s okay, baby.” His pained crying tore at her heart. Matt lifted the cloth to inspect the wound, his brows pinched and serious. “Let’s go. Annie, get Mommy’s bag. Jack, grab those other towels for me.” He was calm, patient, waiting for them to do as he said, then praising them when they completed their assigned task. His eyes met hers and saw the fear she knew was there. “He’s okay, honey, but it needs stitches. I’ll keep the pressure on while you get your keys.” She nodded, never questioning his assessment, and followed him to the elevators, half running to keep up with his long stride. Pull it together. You’re all they have. Except she wasn’t. Because right now they had Matt.

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“Annie, push the button for your floor, okay?” Annie, nodded, ready and willing to do whatever Matt asked. “You’re okay, buddy.” He said it again and again, rubbing Charlie’s back, kissing his head. Once in their room, they made a lightningquick change from wet bathing suits to clothes, making sure to grab some for Charlie. Abby grabbed her wallet and car keys as Matt directed the kids to stuff their bag with crackers and juice boxes. At her car, Matt walked to the passenger side. “Climb in and I’ll hand him to you. Annie, can you make sure Jack and Gracie are buckled?” Abby got into the SUV, buckled her seat belt, and took Charlie from Matt’s arms. “Keep the pressure on. It’s a clean cut. Eight stitches, maybe nine.” He spoke just

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loud enough for her ears, stopping with his face mere inches from hers. “He’ll be fine. I promise.” She didn’t like promises, but looking into his eyes just then, it did wonders to calm her racing heart. When they got on the highway, Matt checked the kids in the rearview mirror. No one had said a word since Charlie’s fall. “Everything’s okay, guys. Charlie’s going to get a few stitches and be good as new. I’ve had lots of stitches, and after you get stitches you have to get ice cream. Lucky for you guys, because everyone in the car gets ice cream too.” Abby didn’t know whether he was trying to calm her or the kids, but it was working. — Six hours and eight stitches later, they were back in the condo. Abby finished tucking in

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the sleepy children and closed the bedroom door softly behind her. Still wearing the Tshirt with faint smears of Charlie’s blood, Matt waited in the middle of the living room. As strong as she tried to be, there was something about Matt that instilled confidence. In all of them. It was Matt who Charlie had wanted to hold him when his gash was being sewn up. It was Matt who’d dealt with Jack’s boredom and Gracie’s never-ending questions. Annie hadn’t said a word, but still he’d known explaining things in an honest, adult manner was exactly what her serious six-year-old mind needed. He’d been her rock, her anchor. She didn’t want to think about going through the past six hours without him. His sure and steady hands on her shoulders, the gentle squeezes of reassurance. She was exhausted, emotionally drained. Tears welled in her eyes against her will as she took a step toward him and stopped. She

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shouldn’t. He wouldn’t always be there. No one would. “Abby.” One word, so softly spoken as he opened his arms, offering what she so badly needed. She gave in, slipping into Matt’s arms and sliding hers around his waist. How long had it been since she’d been sheltered instead of being the shelterer? No one wanted to be strong all the time. His chest was warm and hard against her cheek. His heart beat so strong and steadily, she thought she might sleep peacefully if he was there to hold her all night. Don’t want this. Don’t need this. The closer you get, the more it will hurt. But wrapped up in Matt’s arms, her heart sang. More than anything, she wanted to let go, to sink into his strength and warmth. Her imagination flitted carelessly through dreams and fantasies she knew would only leave her feeling sad and empty.

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She stepped back, pulling out of his arms, leaving herself open to the chill. A good reminder that the world always felt colder after you’d been warm. “I could have called an ambulance.” The words tumbled out like garbage. Matt studied her, arms at his sides, without moving, without comment. She focused on the wall behind him so she didn’t have to look at his handsome face or see the change in his eyes. “I would have…if you hadn’t been there. It would have been fast. Even faster maybe.” She imagined the tick of an absent clock through the untenable silence. Finally she looked at him, saw the muscles in his jaw clench and watched the warmth leave his eyes as made his decision. The one that always came sooner or later. “Okay, then,” he said, his words clipped, his voice flat and void of all emotion. “Good night.”

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Matt turned on his heel and walked to the door. She opened her mouth to apologize, but nothing came out, and the door closed with a final click. One good push and he was gone. That cruel voice reminded her she’d never been hard to leave.

Chapter 7 Matt sat at an outdoor table, folded newspaper in one hand, a mug in the other. A plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast lay in front of him. He’d started his day with an early run, packed his bag, and then convinced himself he needed the breakfast buffet. But, really, he couldn’t get his mind off the woman he’d left last night. And that was before he’d seen her enter the pool area, her four little ducks following behind. Jack saw him first. He called out, waving wildly, and started over. Abby followed her son’s line of sight and pulled him back. Really? That’s how it was going to be? Expecting her to turn and run the other way, he was surprised when she stopped and met his gaze. Even more surprised when she seated the kids on a low stone wall surrounding

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ornamental grasses. She knelt in front of them and he watched as an animated conversation took place between Abby and Jack. What the hell was it about her? He should be on the road. Hell¸ he should have gone home three days ago. But even after her cold brush-off he’d still been thinking about her, still reliving the seconds she’d been in his arms. And the moment she’d pushed him away. He needed to check Charlie’s stitches and he’d told Jack they could practice throwing the football again today. She’d dealt him a blow last night, that was for sure. She straightened and turned but didn’t look up or move forward for a full minute. Was she talking to herself? He took a sip of coffee, forcing his eyes back to his newspaper. Damn it. She had him so twisted up inside he didn’t recognize himself. Such a contradiction of want and restraint. So sweet she’d melt in his mouth like

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sugar, and at the same time so hot his mind conjured all manner of sinful thoughts. Finally, she began a slow walk toward him and came to a stop two feet from his table. “Hi.” “Hi.” “I didn’t think I’d see you.” “I guess not,” he said, trying to hide his anger and hurt but failing miserably. “I’m glad I did.” He glanced at the kids, then back, waiting for her to say more. “Because I’m sorry,” she blurted. “Last night, what I said, it was rude.” He sipped his coffee, eyeing her over the rim. Her skin glowed; her eyes sparkled a million shades of green. Strong and amazing, yet so afraid to lean on anyone. But here she was, bravely facing him like a prisoner before a firing squad.

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“I…” She glanced over to make sure the children were still sitting. “I didn’t mean it the way it came out. I was um—” “Mom!” Jack yelled. “Just a minute,” she called to Jack. “I was trying to—” “Mom!” “Just a minute!” She swung her gaze to Jack then back to him. “I don’t like needing people, and…I guess I have a hard time accepting help.” “You’re kidding.” He took another sip of coffee. Her eyes went wide. “No, really, it’s one of my biggest faults.” It was all he could do not to laugh at her ultra-serious face, like she’d just worked up the nerve to unveil a secret of her personality. “I am grateful you were there, and I’m sorry…and—”

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“Apology accepted. How’s Charlie?” “Um…he’s fine. He woke up in the night a few times, but—” “Matty!” The kids had done all the waiting they were going to do and all four made themselves at home at Matt’s table. Gracie bounced between them like Tigger on crack. Charlie stood beside Matt’s chair, arms raised. “Hey, little guy.” He sat Charlie in his lap and looked around the table at the other kids. “How’s it going?” “Matty!” Charlie repeated, pulling Matt’s sunglasses off his head. Matt retrieved them and settled Charlie to face the table. Before Abby could stop him, Charlie crammed the toast from Matt’s plate into his greedy little mouth. “We’re hungry too.”

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Matt pushed his plate across the table and little hands immediately swiped up the bacon and sausage like a pack of dogs. “I hope you were finished,” she said, looking anxious. “I did feed them.” “I was.” He brushed Charlie’s hair back from his forehead. “I haven’t gotten a good look this morning, but I figured him running away was a healthy sign. Do you want me to get you another breakfast? I can go and—” “Abby?” He didn’t look at her, just continued his inspection. “What?” “Sit down.” He didn’t lift the bandage but looked closely around the edges, holding Charlie’s head still until he squirmed. “It looks good. He definitely has his appetite.” He glanced around the table. “So, no bathing suits?” “We’re going to the mall,” Gracie said.

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“It’s an outdoor mall,” Abby added, “with a Ferris wheel and places to eat. I thought it might be better to avoid the water today.” “Good idea.” “You could come,” Jack said, looking hopeful. “I can’t today, bud.” “What about tonight? We’re going out for pizza and it has swings outside it. You could come then.” “Well,” Matt hesitated. “Don’t you like pizza?” Jack asked. “Sure I do.” Jack co*cked his head. “Don’t you like us?” “Of course I do, bud.” He smiled, messing Jack’s hair, hating the hint of insecurity in the boy’s voice. “I’m just not sure tonight is the best—” “You should come,” Abby said. Surprised, Matt looked over. “You sure?”

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“Yes.” “Okay.” He never took his eyes from hers, even as Jack cheered. It was probably a mistake, but he wasn’t ready to give up this feeling yet, this rightness that settled over him whenever he was close to her. “What time should I come down?” “Five-thirty?” “Sounds good.” Abby’s flustered side reappeared as she gathered up the kids and said goodbye. That was fine. She needed time to regroup. So did he. — Matt had joined them for pizza and ice cream, then he and Abby had somehow gotten roped into watching a movie before putting the kids to bed. Not that it was a hardship to sit on the couch next to Matt. And now the kids were in bed.

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The night was clear. A nearly full moon reflected on the water and a cool breeze greeted Abby when she returned to the living room. The balcony door stood open, allowing the sound and scent of the ocean to fill her condo. She stepped outside, just able to make out Matt’s big body in the dark. “Hey.” “Hey,” he said, turning his head. “Kids asleep?” “Almost.” The way his arms were braced against the rail, he looked poised to vault over at any second. Ready to save the world, and no doubt more than able. Chill bumps covered her arms and she shivered—due partly to the ocean breeze, partly the man beside her. “You’re cold.” Matt pushed off the rail and ushered her inside, his hot hand at her back shooting tingles up her spine. He slid the glass closed and turned the latch.

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She’d watched him move all night in jeans that hugged his muscled thighs and a black polo-style shirt that outlined every bit of strength. Then she’d sat beside him, her head resting against his shoulder, trying hard not to imagine more nights. “Do you want a co*ke or something? Water? Milk?” “I’m fine.” He sat on the couch, looking completely relaxed, stretching one arm across the back like he’d had it during the movie. “Oh, okay.” She stood in the middle of the room, unsure what to do next, which way to go. “I might have apple juice, but it’ll be in a box and you’ll have to use a little straw.” “Relax.” He patted the couch beside him. “You don’t need to play hostess.” She sat but left a bit of space between them. It’d been easier to give in to the pull of the couch when they were sitting in the dark.

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She picked at a ball of fuzz beside her leg. “Matt…yesterday when I said…I’m sorry—” “You already apologized.” “I know, but— Whoa.” She covered her stomach with both hands. “You okay?” Matt scooted toward her, instantly on alert. “Yes, just kicking. But that was the biggest one yet. Guess someone’s feeling left out.” Matt leaned closer, his thick dark brows furrowed. She smiled. “Don’t worry. I’m not in labor.” His eyes remained intent on her belly. “Do you want to feel?” He didn’t wait for her. His large hand covered her entire belly. With her small hand over his, she adjusted his placement to match the baby’s movements. At the first strong kick, Matt sucked in a breath. “Amazing.” His voice was just a

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whisper, like he didn’t want to wake the baby. “It’s hard to imagine there’s really a little person in there. But feeling it…That’s incredible.” She was suddenly struck by how close they were. How intimate the moment. How special and…rare. His arm around her on the back of the couch, his hand on her body. The two of them experiencing something so incredible, so magical happening inside her. She felt herself being sucked in, as if he were a vacuum and she were a tiny dust bunny, helpless and all too happy to go along for the ride. But she wanted to be closer, wanted to run her fingers over his smooth-shaven cheek, down his neck, and over his shoulders. To press her nose at the V of his shirt and breathe in the scent of aftershave, put her lips to his hot skin. Even if she couldn’t in her wildest dreams imagine why he was here with her.

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The heat emanating from his hand spread and warmed her until she felt him everywhere. The condo was like a refrigerator, but she was hot. Their eyes met and held. Her heart pounded until she was sure he could hear it. Was his pounding too? “I think she stopped.” He left his hand another beat before finally sitting back, as if he was reluctant to break the connection. So was she. “It seems no sooner have I gotten news I’m going to be an uncle than my brothers are sending me pictures. Hundreds of pictures. You’ve never seen such crazy proud fathers.” His smile when he talked about his family was a beautiful thing. She couldn’t help but smile with him, until his words sank in like dead weight. Who had Josh proudly sent pictures to? No one. “Abby?” “Hmm?”

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“Why didn’t he know you were pregnant?” Damn. She should have known Matt wasn’t the type to let something go. Of course at the time she’d said it she hadn’t expected to be sitting alone with him in her condo. Not that it would have mattered where they were. He had a strange effect on her, making her nervous while steadily drawing out her secrets. And he was still waiting. It shouldn’t matter, but she hated for Matt, more than anyone, to know how little she’d been wanted. “He died before I got a chance to tell him. That’s the short version, anyway,” she added, trying to make light of it. “And the long version?” Well, she’d opened that can of worms all by herself. But she could no more lie to him than she could have gotten up off that couch. And maybe a part of her wanted to tell someone. To tell Matt. So she settled next to him, close but not touching, and tried to

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focus on her answer instead of the man beside her. “Josh was an attorney. His firm handled major corporate mergers, acquisitions, that kind of thing. I met him during an interior design internship at his office.” She’d been young and naïve, maybe a little too desperate to belong to someone. He’d been older, mature, and completely taken with her. Or so she’d thought. “He worked for companies all over the world, so he traveled a lot. More than a lot.” She pulled a throw pillow into her lap and ran her fingers through the tangled fringe. “At first I didn’t know what to expect.” She’d been twenty-one, just out of college, in love for the first time. “He worked long hours, but he was a new partner so…I didn’t think much about it.” That wasn’t exactly true. She had thought about it. She’d moved to Raleigh with him a week after the wedding. Quit her new job

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and not even cared. She was married. She had a legal certificate saying someone couldn’t leave her. But he could and he had, and then she’d been alone again. And not having someone you expected to be there had turned out to be worse than having no one. “I got pregnant a few months after we married. I wanted to be a mother, have a family. I guess we didn’t know each other that well, or I didn’t know him. Not at first.” Matt tensed beside her. “It’s nothing terrible. He just…wasn’t there. Work, success, was important to him. Addictive, like a drug.” He’d always had to do more, be more, to overcome the years of an abusive father he refused to end up like. Josh had his own demons, and she’d understood what a bad childhood could do to a person. Had hoped one day she’d be enough to make up for it all.

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“I would’ve given up all the money, the big house, the new car, everything, for a night watching TV together. Or a simple moment sitting on the couch.” Like they were doing now. “Anyway, by the time I saw what was happening, I had Jack. My life was full with the kids and…Josh always said it would get better. He promised. I believed him.” She let out a shaky breath and turned the ring on her finger. “By the time I had Gracie…I didn’t believe him anymore.” But God knows with every tearful apology she’d wanted to. She’d listened to his empty words, pretending they meant something and that it was enough. Because it was still so much more than she’d ever had. “By the time I had Charlie, I didn’t care anymore. So…” It hurt to admit, because she had still cared—maybe not that Josh didn’t want her but that no one did. So, she’d tried and hoped, and…then that last night

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together she’d been lonely and she’d hoped one more time. Without looking at Matt, she stood to flee to the safety of the kitchen. She wasn’t fast enough. His hand shot out and encircled her wrist. Intelligent brown eyes scanned hers, seeing way too much. “I’m sorry.” “It’s fine.” Seconds passed and she thought he might say more, but he released her, leaving a cold spot on her arm. She’d spent her life perfecting a mask to hide her pain, and she quickly pulled it on. “Let’s have cookies.” She walked toward the kitchen. “You must be some kind of interrogator,” she said, smiling over her shoulder, covering the raw edges her admission had left. “Interrogation’s not really my job,” he said, sliding onto a stool at the counter while she poured two glasses of milk. She set the cookies in front of him. “What is your job?”

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“I’m in the navy.” At her raised eyebrow and impatient look, he reluctantly added the rest. “A SEAL.” Of course he was. A hero. “Wow. I’ve seen and read enough to know how hard that is.” And she knew it was to be admired. Not just for the strength but the skill and intellect too. He paused, his milk halfway to his mouth, like he was waiting for her to say more. She thought he looked pleased when she didn’t and he took a quick sip of milk. “I also flip houses,” he said and stuffed an entire cookie into his mouth. “Really? How do you do that? I mean being gone so much.” She took a bite of cookie. “Being gone is kind of how it happened. My great-aunt passed away and left her tiny old house to the family. It was so dilapidated no one wanted to mess with it. I wasn’t home

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enough to make renting a house or even an apartment sensible, so I crashed there. When I was home, I worked on it just for something to do.” Abby listened, loving the deep, smooth sound of his voice and the way his body took up space. She could imagine lying beside him, eyes closed, just listening to him talk. “I started out with small repairs and learned as I went. Didn’t matter if we went wheels up. If I left the country, I’d just leave the house and pick it up when I got back. “I enjoyed it—the work and the transformation. I sold that one, made a profit, and looked for a new project. There are times I’m homeless, like this week. I don’t require much, but I do need a working bathroom.” He smiled and bit into another cookie. She leaned a hip against the counter and sipped her milk, taking in everything he’d said. Soaking up the details that made his life. “So, you’re on leave now?”

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“Yes, and I owed Rob for helping me out with my last house, so when he asked for a ride…” He shrugged his shoulders, like what could he do. “Do you wish you’d gone with him? I’m sure he’s getting more than milk and cookies tonight.” A slow, sexy grin spread across Matt’s face as a painful blush covered hers. “I’m happy with my choice.” Abby twisted the gold band on her finger. It was either that or tap her fingers wildly on the countertop. Heat raced up her arms from where his fingers stilled her nervous hands. His thumb slid over the cold metal, his eyes intent on the ring. She stared also, at the ring that meant nothing and the hand covering hers that meant way too much. “I should take it off.” “Do you still feel married?”

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She shook her head slowly and felt his eyes on her face. “I don’t think I ever felt married.” He gave her hand a light squeeze and moved off the stool, coming to stand in front of her. Warm calloused palms slid up her bare arms and across her shoulders, making her knees weak. He gently brushed back the hair that hung like a curtain. A million feelings and thoughts swirled until one slipped out. “I slept with a man who didn’t love me.” With his thumb under her chin, he raised her face to his. “I disagree. No one could help but love you.” Wrong. He was so wrong, and she wished she hadn’t said it, but the chocolate pools of his eyes drew her in until she was powerless against them. Big hands circled her neck until his thumbs came to rest lightly against her wildly beating pulse. “I don’t know what you want,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

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“Time,” he said softly. “Just time. I don’t have a good reason, but I have three days left and I want to spend them with you.” His hands left her neck and trailed down her arms until their fingers touched. “That’s soon enough to walk away, don’t you think?” She had no answer for that. He let go of her hands and moved to the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Lock up behind me.” The heavy door closed with a click, and instead of a sad, final kind of sound, it almost sounded like something clicking into place.

Chapter 8 Abby tossed and turned in a cold sweat, the sheets kicked to the foot of the bed, leaving her exposed and alone in her dream. The house was dark but for the dim shadows cast by an angel nightlight in the hall as she inched past. “Mommy?” Her own voice sounded small. No answer. She kept going, stepping through the strip of bright light that fell from her mother’s doorway. Since Daddy died, her mommy’s light was on a lot. And Mommy cried. “Mommy?” She called again a little louder, passing the big empty bed and continuing toward the bathroom. She eased the door open. “Mommy?”

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And she was there. Mommy was in the bathtub. One arm hanging over the side, her head leaning against it. Her eyes were open, but Mommy wasn’t moving. Her little body shook as she moved closer to her mother. The water was red and more red ran down her mother’s arm, making a puddle of dark on the tile floor. A thick drip hung on the end of her finger. Mommy was hurt but she wasn’t moving. Why didn’t she get out of the tub? “MMommy? I w-want you to get up.” She needed Daddy. He’d know what to do ’cause she didn’t. But Daddy was at the place they buried people. He couldn’t come home. Not ever. “I’ll get you something, Mommy.” She turned to the counter, looking for a BandAid. She reached for a towel and saw a piece of paper there, Mommy’s special flower

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paper. And it said her name, “Abby,” in big letters. A sound made her look over. Mommy was moving, but she wasn’t getting up. She was slipping down. Down and down until she was under the red water, her eyes still open. Abby jerked awake and took a minute just to breathe before untangling herself from the covers twisted around her feet. Bright streams of sunlight found their way through a gap in the drapes, making a line across the bed. She rubbed her hands over her stomach. It’s okay. They were at the beach and it was just a dream. Except it wasn’t. She reached to turn the clock toward her: 8:19. The gold band caught the light and she worked it until it slipped over her knuckle. It wasn’t an unbreakable circle, like she’d wanted to believe. It was a hole and she’d stood alone in it all her life.

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A decade of foster homes and false promises had left marks as sure as the victim of a violent crime had scars. They were just as raw, just as ugly. And she hated them. Was sick of them. I have three days left and I want to spend them with you. She didn’t feel alone when she was with Matt. There was no risk of being left, she was leaving too. And, really, how attached could she get to someone in three days? — The blue canvas umbrella flapped in the breeze, and Abby adjusted her beach chair so only her legs were in the sun. Ahh. Now this feels like a vacation. A prop plane flew overhead and Cat Stevens played on a neighbor’s iPod. Children squealed and whined, but for the next few hours they weren’t her children.

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She leaned back, closed her eyes, and took advantage of the rare quiet. “Hey.” Her lids popped open to a gorgeous sight: Matt, looking down at her like a fallen angel. “You look lonely.” A burst of laughter escaped. “A mother of four does not get lonely.” “Really.” He gave her a look—hot and sexy even with sunglasses covering his eyes. Maybe she was just remembering the look in his eyes last night. Or maybe she was imagining. Wishing. “What happened to the munchkins?” “The munchkins are in Kidz Kamp, and I am having some quiet time.” “Does that mean I have to sit by myself or that I can’t talk?” A cute fallen angel.

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“No. You don’t have to sit by yourself or be quiet, as long as you don’t tell me anyone touched you, looked at you, or breathed on you. And you can’t say you’re hungry or thirsty for at least twenty minutes.” “I’ll do my best,” he said with a smile that left her a little breathless. She reached a nervous hand into her bag. “Here. You never have a towel.” “It’s Princess,” he said, staring at her offering like it was a snake. “Are you worried people will think you’re a girl?” Her lips curled. “Oh yeah, you were playing with Barbies the other day.” “Very funny.” He snatched it and laid it over the back of his chair. The breeze and music played over her skin along with a new sense of peace. She closed her eyes again as Matt stretched out beside her and they lazed away the morning in a comfortable silence she was getting used to.

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It was an odd feeling she got around him, hard to explain even to herself. But it felt good. She hummed along to Bob Marley, mumbling the words under her breath. “No woman, no pride…” “What did you say?” “Huh?” Matt turned his head to look at her. “It’s no woman, no cry.” “No, it’s not.” “Yes. It is.” She huffed. “Well, Mr. Smarty Pants, you sing it your way, and I’ll sing it mine.” His brows arched over his sunglasses. “Mr. Smarty Pants?” She ignored him and sang the next chorus extra loud. So did he, and they laughed their way through a battle of lyrics. Matt did that—made her laugh, made her smile.

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They slipped back into quiet until Matt’s low voice startled her. “You took your ring off.” “What?” His fingers slid over the top of her hand where it laid on the armrest. “You took your ring off,” he repeated, smoothing his thumb over the faint white line her wedding band had left behind. It was the lightest of touches, but she felt a hot rush beginning in her heart and flowing all the way down to the softness between her legs. Slowly, back and forth, he continued the motion, like maybe he could erase it, the shadow. All her life she’d been a shadow. Not so much when she was with Matt. “It was time,” she finally said. And wearing it in the sun would only make the meaningless mark more pronounced. Her chest squeezed tight and a lump grew in her throat when he laced their fingers—his, big and tan, alternating with her

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smaller, paler ones. He said nothing more about her ring. The constant white noise of the surf accompanied by the flapping of the canvas umbrella lulled her into a sense of security. That and the man beside her, hand in hand, just…being, and being together. “What’s your middle name?” Without turning her head, she slid him a glance and saw that his eyes were closed. “Are we playing twenty questions again?” “Maybe.” “Nicole. Abigail Nicole. What’s yours?” “Emanuel. Matthew Emanuel. We all have saints’ names. It’s like a Catholic rule.” She smiled at the thought of traditions and family—specifically his family. “What are the kids’ middle names?” She listed them, ending with Annie’s. “Ann Elise. Get it? Ann E.? It’s after a grandmother I never knew.” “Did you know any of your grandparents?”

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“Nope. She was the only one I ever saw, or who saw me. She died when I was a baby.” “Who did you live with? After your parents died, I mean.” She hesitated at recapping her sad life story. “You don’t really want to hear all this.” And she didn’t really want to tell it. “Yes, I do,” he said pointedly. “I already told you. I’m interested.” — Way more interested than I should be. And he did want to hear it, though it killed him that her childhood had been anything less than perfect. He wanted to know every trial she’d ever withstood, every person who’d hurt this woman he couldn’t seem to stay away from. Matt again brushed his thumb over her knuckles, shocked by what simply holding her hand did to him.

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“Well, sorry to disappoint, but it’s pretty boring. I went to dozens of foster homes I barely remember, then to a group home, then college.” He didn’t believe for a second she didn’t remember. Teddy’d had a similar childhood, beginning with his mother abandoning him in a bathroom. He’d joked about it during a SEAL exercise called “drown proofing.” I got this, guys. My bitch of a mother couldn’t drown me when I was five minutes old. T had acted like he didn’t care, but Matt knew he did. How could he not? To his dismay T had never once accepted his invitations to join him on leave. Said he didn’t do family. Laughed it off like a teen avoiding parental jail, but Matt saw through it. Just like he saw through Abby. “Did you always want to be a soldier?”

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And there she went again, diverting the conversation. Which only made him more determined to know everything about her. “Part of me did. My grandfather served, and my older brother Tony was in the air force before he started his own charter business. Part of me wanted to be an architect like my dad, so I went with a mechanical engineering major.” “Ah, that explains your sand castle skills.” “Hmm.” She let the questions drop there and so did he, unwilling to risk disturbing their connection. Another hour passed before they decided they were hungry. Matt followed her to the boardwalk, a step behind. Pregnant or not, she had a body that made him all kinds of hot and bothered. She bent to spray her feet, unknowingly giving him an excellent view. Those were real. And he imagined cupping them, soft and full in his hands, in his mouth. Kissing his way

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down her neck, licking the salt from her hot, damp skin and moving lower…sh*t. He tried to stop the rush of blood from his head to his groin. Don’t picture her naked. Right. That was like telling a starving man not to fantasize about food. He walked a step behind her, keeping his eyes up, mentally stripping and reassembling every weapon he could think of. They got their lunch and found a table. She didn’t ask about his job as a SEAL, but she had a lot of questions about flipping houses. He described his current and upcoming projects, listened to her creative ideas for a retro interior. “It sounds like you really love it, redoing the houses,” she said, stuffing a piece of lettuce back into her sandwich. “I do.” “But you don’t want to do it full time?”

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“No. I don’t know. Maybe someday. It’s…complicated.” And it was. He was in no position to make plans for a someday. Abby didn’t press him for answers, just gathered their trash. As she did she sang about a cartoon builder named Bob, making him laugh, bringing him out of the shadows. “You’re a nut,” he said, andndan a stood to dump their tray. “Ha. You’re one to talk, Chewie,” she shot back. “And I’m paying today.” She snatched the ticket from his hand. “No. You’re not.” “Yes. I am,” she said, mimicking his deep, large-and-in-charge tone. Playful. Teasing. He imagined sex with Abby would be hot and fun and mind-blowing. And, damn it, he wanted her. And not for any of the reasons he’d wanted a woman before. “Abby, give me the ticket.”

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She hid her hands behind her back and raised her chin. “No.” Matt put down the tray and circled his arms around her. He was so much taller, she had to tilt her head back, exposing her delicate neck, pushing out her breasts. And just like that his thoughts were back to the bedroom. Back to kissing her, tasting her. “Give me the ticket.” “What if I don’t?” she teased, no idea where his thoughts were. He released one wrist, allowing himself to touch her. Just a brush of his fingertips across her flushed cheek. Her green eyes flared with heat. So beautiful it almost hurt to look at her. I slept with a man who didn’t love me. God, help him. Abby was the easiest person to love he’d ever met. All he could think of was tangling his fingers in her hair, pressing his lips to hers. He

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wanted his mouth on hers more than he wanted his next breath. But one kiss would never be enough. Neither would one night, or one week. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed, but he relieved her of the ticket and forced himself to walk away. — Matt gazed down at Abby, standing under the dim light outside her condo door. The six of them had spent the evening playing mini golf and eating ice cream. Well, Abby had played. He had watched her ass move in clinging shorts and her breasts sway in a soft tank top. “What time are we leaving?” he asked her. “What?” She looked confused. “We’re going to the water park tomorrow.” “I know. So am I.” They’d already discussed her plans. He just hadn’t made his

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own entirely clear. There was no way in hell he was letting her go by herself. She tilted her head and gave him a look. “You want to go to the water park?” “I love water parks.” True, but more importantly he didn’t know what kind of place it was. Was it safe or shady? Were the rides inspected? Was it a hangout for druggies and child molesters? She probably wasn’t even supposed to be on water slides. “You know we’re meeting my friends, Angie and Joe and their five children, who I love dearly but are self-proclaimed holy terrors.” “Great.” He wanted to meet her friends. “We’ll be gone all day. Seriously. We won’t be back until after dinner.” “Sounds fun.” Abby sighed and pursed that kissable mouth, probably trying to think of more reasons he wouldn’t want to come. “Wait. I

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bet you’re one of those people who feels the need to break every rule in order to have fun, aren’t you?” “I don’t know what you mean,” he said, trying his best to look innocent. “You know exactly what I mean,” she said, placing a sassy hand on her cute little hip. “They say stay seated and you take that as a personal challenge to stand. They say keep your hands in and you try to…I don’t know what, but something bad.” “Okay, I confess. My brothers and I didn’t always think staying seated in the raft was the best way to experience a water slide. But I promise to be good.” The playfulness fell away. “You know Jack wants to do everything you do.” “I know.” And very soon he wouldn’t be there for Jack, or any of them. “I promise to follow every rule.”

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The way she was looking at him he wondered if she might be thinking the same thing. “So, what time are we leaving?” “Nine.” “I’ll see you then. Good night.” He waited until she was inside before walking to the elevator, the two sides of his mind raging at each other. What the hell was he thinking? That he wanted to make sure she and the kids were safe. That he wanted more time with her. And, if he was honest, that he wasn’t ready to spend a day without her. But was spending more time together the best thing for either of them?

Chapter 9 “Jack, get in the car.” Matt hadn’t been at their door at nine. At ten minutes past, the car was loaded. It was time to go. Jack continued to scour the parking lot for Matt. “He’s coming.” She was eight years old again, waiting for yet another foster parent who’d forgotten to pick her up from school. Possibly forgotten she even existed. Wouldn’t be the first time. “Jack, get in the car. Now.” “No. He said he’s coming. He is.” “Maybe he’s wost,” Gracie said, leaning out the open door from her car seat. “We can get him, Mommy.” Absolutely not. And she wasn’t waiting. For anyone. “Jackson Moore, get in the car.”

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Annie sat buckled and staring straight ahead. She’d never asked about her father and she didn’t inquire about Matt, just accepted it. Almost like she’d known. This is why it’s better to be alone. This is why— “There he is!” Jack yelled. “I knew you’d come.” Abby looked back to see Matt’s athletic form jogging across the parking lot. Her heart did a nosedive as she watched her son race over the pavement and launch himself into Matt’s arms. Matt jogged the rest of the way with Jack over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Her son’s face was one big smile. “Mom didn’t think you were coming, but I knew you would.” He stopped in front of her, grinning like a kid himself. “Sorry I’m late. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” He rubbed his

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knuckles against Jack’s head, swung him to the ground, and poked his head in the open back door. “Hey, rug rats.” “Hi, Matt. I said we should get you and Mommy said no and she wooked weally sa—” “Let’s go.” Abby cut off Gracie’s recap. Matt co*cked his head, giving her a look before boosting Jack into the Suburban, leaving him to find his seat and get buckled. “Hey.” “Hey,” she said, trying her best to look like nothing about this situation was unexpected. Not his being here and definitely not her caring when he wasn’t. “Want me to drive?” She held out the keys and was already turning away when he grabbed her hand. “Abby.” “What?” “I’m sorry you thought that.”

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She didn’t know whether he was sorry for her disappointment or sorry she hadn’t believed in him. It didn’t really matter, did it? Matt opened her door and held out his hand to help her in. She didn’t take it, more upset with herself than with him. He went around, slid in, and started the car. “I tried to call you.” Abby stared straight ahead, a million possible responses flying through her mind. Don’t worry about it. I didn’t expect you to come anyway. I hate myself for wanting you here. None of them were new. “You don’t have my number.” “I do and I left a message.” Before she could argue, Gracie sang out the digits of her phone number. It shouldn’t surprise her that he’d heard her daughter show off the new skill. And it shouldn’t surprise her that he’d remembered the number.

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He was a Navy SEAL after all. Trained to remember all things. Be all things. And if she wasn’t careful, he could very easily be all things to her. — Thirty minutes later Matt pulled into Raging Rapids Water Park. Abby hadn’t put much effort into the Mary Poppins sing-along. He knew every word since his sister had always gotten to choose the car music. At least that’s what he’d told Abby when she’d given him a questioning look. Plus, Mary Poppins was hot. Kind of like Abby. He snuck another glance, trying not to smile. A cross between Mary Poppins and Megan Fox. He put the Suburban into park, and Abby got out without a word. “Hold tight a second, guys.” He put the windows down and met Abby at the back.

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Without looking at him, she reached for the back door handle to get their things. Something was going to be said, and he would damn well say it. He stopped her with a hand on her arm and got a jolt. It happened every time he touched her. He slid his fingers down until they met and closed around hers. “Do you want to tell me why you’re so upset?” “I’m not.” Her eyes told a different story along with the firm set of her mouth and raised chin. “I get that you thought I wasn’t coming and why you’d be mad, but an old couple down the hall couldn’t get their door—” He shook his head. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. I keep my word, Abby. Always.” He tucked a silky strand behind her ear. Their eyes met, held. So wary and so alone. Would she stay alone? He tried to picture Abby with a man sometime down the road, but he couldn’t, or maybe he didn’t want to.

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“Do I really scare you that much?” He cupped the side of her face in his hand. “Because I gotta tell you, you scare the hell out of me.” Abby’s jaw dropped and she stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “Mom! Let’s go,” Jack called. Thank God for Jack, since he was two seconds from kissing that shocked look right off her face. He opened the back, got out the day’s gear, and together they walked through the giant gate shaped like a wave, looking very much like a family of six. A group of teens with pierced noses and dripping jean shorts ran by, nearly clipping Abby in the shoulder. When he instinctively moved to protect her with his body, she took his hand and suddenly everything in his world righted. Damn it. She could bunch him up like a ball of paper, then easily smooth him out with a look, a touch. Over

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and over again. Bunch, smooth. Bunch, smooth. Matt dropped their gear on an empty chair. “Okay, where to first?” — They’d worked through the smaller slides, and Jack was growing impatient. “Next is the big one. Right, Matt? We get to do Tsunami next.” They’d started small, Annie and Jack riding in a raft for two while Matt rode with Gracie and Charlie. Abby waited at the bottom, taking pictures, resting her feet, and cheering when they came into view. “Yep. Let’s do it.” The closer they got to Tsunami—a giant twisting slide with a dark tunnel—the slower Annie moved. Charlie wasn’t big enough to ride it, so he’d stayed behind with Abby and a Popsicle.

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“You know, honey, you don’t have to ride this one if you don’t want to.” “I know,” Annie said, staring at her feet, moving up the stairs one slow step at a time. The higher they climbed, the louder the echo of terrified screams coming from the winding tunnel. Matt looked over the side where the rafts splashed out at the bottom. “Looks like they had fun,” he said, trying to ease her mind. They were five steps away from the loading platform at the top, close enough to hear the repetitive beep, beep, beeeeeeeep signaling each raft’s turn to go. A man carried a crying boy past them, going down the stairs. “Guess he changed his mind.” Matt glanced at Annie. “You sure you want to ride? I can take you down. It’s no problem.” Annie fingered the ends of her hair as they eased up another step. Poor thing. Like a kid at the end of the high dive, heart racing but wanting so badly to jump.

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“Don’t be such a scary cat, Annie,” Jack said. Matt thumped Jack’s head lightly. “Scaredy-cat. And don’t call people names.” “I’ll ride with you,” Gracie said cheerfully unafraid, which probably only made Annie feel worse. He laid a hand on Annie’s head, her brown hair restrained in tight braids, and for the first time all week she moved toward him instead of away. Success. “It’s okay to be afraid.” Annie looked up at him, hazel eyes blinking under worried brows. She slid her small hand tentatively into his and his heart clenched. He gave her hand a squeeze, imagining Abby at this age, with no hand to hold. He held Annie’s a little tighter. They all moved up another step. When it was their turn, Jack jumped into the raft the park worker held in the pulsing water. Annie eased closer to Matt’s side.

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The college kid working the slide gave them a bored look. “Step in.” Jack looked back at his sister. “Annie, come on!” Matt was just about to tell Jack to get out and wait while he walked Annie down. There was no reason for her to do something she obviously didn’t want to do. “Let’s go,” said an impatient preteen behind them. “Go already,” his friend added in a snotty voice, then something more under his breath. Still holding Annie’s hand, Matt rounded on him. “Simmer down, punk. She’ll go when she’s good and ready.” Annie pulled on his hand, her voice so small he almost didn’t hear her. “Can I ride with you?”

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“You bet,” he answered, shocked and proud that she was willing to face her fears, and more that she trusted him. It took skillful coaxing and convincing to get Gracie to ride with Jack, but off they went. Matt stepped into the next raft and settled Annie between his legs. When they splashed down at the bottom he lifted Annie over the side. “How was it?” “Fine.” “Do you want to go again?” “No.” He laughed at her emphatic answer and carried her out of the pool. — Abby’s friends arrived in time for lunch, and Angie couldn’t get Abby alone fast enough. “You picked up a man on the beach?” “Shh. Keep your voice down. I didn’t pick up a man. He’s a friend.”

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Angie rolled her eyes. “Honey, I am so sorry for you if I have to point this out. But that”—she pointed toward the guys standing in the food line—“is most definitely a man. I might even say a man and a half.” “Would you stop?” Abby reached into her bag for the hand sanitizer. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but…how in the world did you do—” “I didn’t do anything. Would you keep your voice down? He plays with the kids. We talk. Don’t make it something it’s not.” “I talked to you every night this week and you didn’t once think to mention that?” She loudly whispered the last word. “There was nothing to mention.” They scoured the food court area for an empty table. “Then Charlie fell and we went to the hospital and—” “What?”

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Abby shushed her again and gave a quick rundown of events before they reached the men. “Here ya go.” Joe handed Angie a tray with piles of french fries in white paper pouches. “We’re still waiting on the rest.” Matt held Charlie perched on one muscled arm, causing his navy T-shirt to stretch around his biceps. His other hand rested on Jack’s shoulder. Yeah, he was a man. And, yeah, she’d noticed. “Come on, guys. Let’s go find a table.” Jack eased back against Matt’s legs, beaming up at him like the sun. “I’ll stay with Matt.” “I stay Matt,” Charlie mimicked. Big surprise. She and Angie took the girls and found a table. Angie’s older kids were squeezing in a few more runs on the slides. Abby slid onto the plastic seat and finished the story of Charlie and his stitches.

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Gracie happily filled Angie in on any details she left out. “Matt had pizza wiff us, watched a movie wiff us.” “Really?” Angie co*cked her head, one eyebrow raised. “Interesting.” “Annie, sweetie, could you and Emily run and get us some napkins?” “Sure.” Gracie and Angie’s daughter spun off their seats. Abby looked pointedly at her friend. “What’s interesting?” “You and him,” Angie said, pointing a fry in his direction. “I told you. We’re friends.” It was the truth. A friend who she envisioned kissing her. A friend who said she scared him too. But Angie didn’t need to know this. And saying it out loud would make it all too real. “Right.” Angie eyed her as if she could see an alternate truth glowing in Abby’s eyes, like a crystal ball.

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“What?” Abby tried to sound innocent and busied herself with tearing open ketchup packages. “Are you serious or are you just pretending to be blind?” Angie asked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Abby avoided Angie’s stare and turned to Gracie, who’d returned and was saying she was going to die of thirst in twenty-thirty seconds. “No, you’re not. Be patient.” Angie pointed another fry at her. “He wants you. I can tell. It’s all in the look.” “What look?” “The look that says”—she lowered her voice to a whisper for the girls’ sake—“I want to lick your entire body with or without chocolate sauce. Slowly.” Abby’s entire body went hot at the thought. “You’re blushing.”

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She covered her burning cheeks, knowing a part of her wanted him to want her. Even if that’s all it would ever be. “You’re crazy.” “No. I really don’t think I am. Maybe at around five-thirty, when everyone’s screaming and the frozen dinner is baking. But”—she waved all that off—“right now? No. This is not a crazy moment.” “Angie, look at me. I’m a whale.” “Honey, the only way you could be a whale is if you were carrying sextuplets, and even then you’d probably look like a goddess, and I hate you for it.” “He’s a nice guy. He’s just having fun.” “Ha. Just having fun my ass.” Abby cleared her throat, indicating the kids with her head. “I meant my butt.” Angie could be a pain, but she did make her laugh. “I’m serious. I think I remind him of his mother.”

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Angie spewed a mist of soda all over her daughter’s fries. Joe and Matt walked up at that moment, carrying trays of drinks and food. Joe looked from Abby to his wife. “What did we miss?” “Nothing.” Abby rolled her eyes. “Your wife is crazy.” “Really? It’s not even five.”

Chapter 10 The sprinkle sprayer park was a colossal structure—sort of a jungle-gym-meetswater-hose on steroids. It offered fun for tots, big kids, and really big kids like Matt and Joe, who were blasting each other with water cannons. “Looks like the boys bonded,” Angie said. “Yeah.” Abby watched them team up when the kids turned against them. Her best friend’s husband and her…friend. “Mommy!” Gracie ran up, water dripping into her eyes. “You haf to come stand over here. It’s weally fun. I pwomise. And nuffing will happen.” “Sounds fishy to me,” Angie said. “I wouldn’t fall for it.”

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Abby laughed and let Gracie lead her to a precise spot ominously marked on the ground with a skull and crossbones. Jack joined them, pulling Matt behind him. Matt’s shirt was off. His dark hair stood in spikes where he’d run his fingers through it. Water dripped down his cheeks and over his jaw, already darkening with stubble. She wanted to catch the drop on his chin, and immediately her eyes were drawn to his mouth. His lips. If he was hers, she would kiss him, right here, right now. If he was more than a friend— “Hey,” he said with a boyish grin. “Funny meeting you here.” Abby smiled up at him and his sidekick, Charlie, pushing away thoughts of wanting more. But the way he coddled her youngest made a serious dent in her wall. One of many.

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Matt’s eyes met hers, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “Do you think they’re trying to do away with us and steal the car?” Before Abby could answer, her eardrums vibrated from a foghorn blast. Charlie plugged his ears and buried his head in Matt’s shoulder just in time to shield his face from five hundred gallons of water dumped on them from a giant pirate bucket. She instinctively turned away from the onslaught and into Matt. The cool water pounded their heads and shoulders and his arm came around her protectively. Her breasts pressed against his hard chest, while his big hand splayed hotly against the bare skin of her back. Heart pounding, her body responded to his without permission and she felt something whether she wanted to or not. It was impossible not to want him, to be closer to him. The muscles in his back flexed under her hand. Her core melted at the thought of

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turning her mouth slightly, sliding her lips across his chest. When the rush of water stopped, she lifted her head and their eyes locked. The air around them thickened with tension so tangible she was surprised everyone there didn’t see it. But right then, in that moment, there was no one else. Just the two of them standing in the sun, as close as they had ever been, and would ever likely be. Charlie wiggled free and slid to the ground, leaving Matt’s other hand free. He reached up to wipe the wet hair stuck to her cheek. His hand stilled and he cupped her face. It was a lovers’ embrace. Chest-tochest, his arm snug around her, hers around him. His palm against her cheek, the way he was looking at her so intense she struggled to breathe. Her skin burned at every point their bodies touched, and even places they didn’t. She’d never felt anything like it in her life, and she knew she never would again. The

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muscles in his face tensed. Did he have the same dire thought? A joyful squeal, a child’s cry, and the bubble burst, jolting them back to reality. Matt slowly dropped his hand, loosened his arm, and by degrees they separated until they weren’t touching at all. Jack’s call stole Matt’s attention, and Abby made a quick retreat to Angie, lounging in the shade, looking positively gleeful. “I’m pretty sure this is a G-rated park,” Angie said. Abby concentrated on drying herself off. She had no words. “If you could have sex with your eyes, you two just did it.” Maybe it hadn’t been invisible to the rest of the world. Had Matt felt it? “Nothing there, huh?” Abby froze, the towel halfway down her leg.

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“You think he holds his sister like that? You two almost started a fire, and that’s not an easy thing to do in the middle of a water park.” — Nets full of fake fish hung from the ceiling of the family-style restaurant attached to the water park. Charlie bounced happily on the green plastic booth seat between Abby and Matt. Angie and Joe sat across from them, backing up to another booth holding the rest of the kids. “Charlie, sit down,” Abby said, trying to pull the two-year-old into submission. Her son, who was usually such a mama’s boy, leaned away from her and into Matt. “Come here, crazy man. Let your mom eat.” Matt pulled him into his lap and offered him a tiny bite of chicken from his own plate. Charlie squeezed his eyes shut, but opened his mouth like a baby bird.

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Joe took a break from shoveling food into his own mouth. “So, what do you do in the navy, if you don’t mind me asking?” “Naval Special Warfare.” “Huh.” Joe looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but he didn’t. Abby doubted Matt would say any more, though she wanted him to. She wanted to know everything about where he went and what he did. Anything that had to do with his life. Why hadn’t she asked more questions? Matt gave Charlie another bite. “I was army,” Joe said. “GI bill. Never saw any combat, luckily. Never planned to make a career of it.” There was a message in there. Whether Joe was trying to warn her or Matt, she didn’t know. “Not everyone does,” Matt said. And that’s why she hadn’t asked more questions. There was no point.

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“Excuse me,” Abby said. “I need to use the restroom.” With Charlie in his arms, Matt moved to let her out, and she scooted across the booth. — From her stall, Abby heard the bathroom door squeak open and knew that Angie had followed her. “Nice to go to the bathroom alone sometimes, isn’t it?” “Yes,” Abby answered. “I mean not that it happens to me that often, but I guess it never happens to you. You even have to bring the boys in with you. Doubt they like that too much.” “Do you have a point?” “Just saying.” Abby flushed and joined Angie at the sink. “Saying what exactly?” “You seem to really like him.”

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Abby pumped green soap into her hand. “I do like him. What’s not to like?” She pulled a paper towel and dried her hands, unsure where Angie was going with this. “So, you’re not planning to see him again?” “Of course not. He’s leaving. I’m leaving. Where on earth would we see each other?” Angie leaned against the wall looking thoughtful. “True. Your horse and buggy would never make it over the impassable mountains.” Ha-ha. But there were mountains between them, even if her friend couldn’t see them. “You don’t have to make me sound like an idiot.” “You are an idiot.” Abby made a face. “What good would it do for me to get all tingly? And I’m not saying I am, but I’d still be alone, except then I’d be alone and missing someone.” No, thanks.

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She’d spent her entire life missing someone. She wasn’t setting herself up for that again. Angie made a frustrated sound in her throat. “You make me angry.” “I know. You tell me all the time.” Abby studied the plastic trash can. There was no point in fantasizing about things that would never happen. Angie wrapped her in a hug. “I just want you to be happy, honey.” “I know, and I am happy.” Angie released her and pulled back. “You could be happier.” Sure. Couldn’t anyone? “I’m perfectly happy with my level of happiness.” “Just keep telling yourself that,” Angie said with a smile and pushed against the door. But Abby wasn’t smiling. Tomorrow would be their last day. Whatever they had, whatever connection she felt, would disappear like a wet footprint on the wooden

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boardwalk. Then she’d go back to her safe, happy life. What Angie didn’t get was, being alone could be a good thing. No more waiting for a man to walk through the door. No more being left behind. No more wondering if she’d ever be enough to make someone stay. — Matt didn’t know exactly when it had happened. Maybe the moment he’d held her in his arms under the bucket spill, or maybe it was the culmination of many moments over the past five days. But at some point everything inside him had shifted. Abby had gone from the kind of woman he’d want if he ever settled down to the woman. The kids were so much more than just cute reminders of his nieces and nephews. “Well, that answers one question.” “Huh?” Matt grunted at Joe’s interruption.

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“A man who looks that forlorn when a woman goes to the bathroom has it bad.” Matt didn’t answer, not that it had been a question. His thoughts obviously showed on his face, which was disconcerting, but not nearly as much as what was going on in his heart. Joe glanced behind him at the kids in the neighboring booth then glared at Matt across the table. “Abby’s not the kind of woman you play with.” “I know that.” The thought of someone playing with her put Matt in a killing mood. “I don’t know what you’re thinking.” Joe gestured at Matt with his drink. “But I’ll warn you now not to hurt her.” Matt didn’t appreciate a warning from this guy, but he did like that Abby had friends looking out for her. She needed it. “You don’t have to worry.” After tomorrow I won’t have the chance.

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Joe made a sound into his drink like he didn’t believe him. “Well, just make sure that you don’t.” They finished eating in silence, Matt intently watching the bathroom door. Abby finally emerged. Their eyes met and she gave him that smile he liked to think was reserved for him. Damn. He wanted the right to protect her, to make threats like Joe had. Although his would not be nearly as civil. Abby stopped beside the table. “Ready to go?” Matt and Joe had already taken care of the check, so he stood and together they gathered up bags and kids. It was after seven, the sky dark with incoming rain clouds. They walked across the parking lot to where he’d parked the car almost twelve hours ago. Joe sent him a narrow-eyed stare that probably had to do

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with Matt’s proprietary hand on Abby’s lower back. Not that he was going to move it. He unlocked the doors and aired out the car while Abby said her goodbyes. Matt was working Charlie’s arms through the straps when Abby appeared on the other side of the car to help Gracie. “You know your way around car seats,” she said. They finished and he slid into the front seat beside her. “Yeah, well, it’s a lot like strapping in for a jump.” Her mouth hung open in an O shape. “You mean like out of a plane?” Matt started the car and grinned. There was nothing like the rush you got from a high-altitude low-opening jump from thirty thousand feet. Except maybe looking into Abby’s eyes. He got that same free-fall feeling then too. “Yes, but I did do an afternoon of pickup duty for my brother once. Took every logistics skill I have. Two schools, three

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different car lines, dance, snacks, karate. Mission impossible.” She laughed and the sound washed over him, warming him. He wanted to hear it more. Ached to be the reason for it. Leaning her head back against the seat, she closed her eyes. “You just described my life.” They drove through traffic back to the resort, a light rain tapping on the windshield. The backseat group was quiet except for Gracie’s soft humming. He glanced at Abby’s profile. She was tired. Hell, he was tired and he wasn’t in the process of making a baby. An uncomfortable feeling worked its way into his chest. He’d never been concerned with how much time he had left with a woman. He reached over the console and covered Abby’s hand with his, lacing their fingers. Like two puzzle pieces fitting together.

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A voice inside his head screamed, Don’t let her go. You don’t have to let her go. Could that be true? They lived hours apart. He was out of the country more than he was in, and she deserved someone who would be there. That wasn’t him. It couldn’t be.

Chapter 11 Abby sat under the beach umbrella, unable to take her eyes off Matt’s body as he ran and threw the football with Jack. She knew what he felt like now: hot and smooth with pure steel underneath. Jack screeched and laughed when Matt grabbed him up with the ball and ran through knee-high water to an imaginary goal line. “Mom, did you see that?” Jack ran toward her from the water. “Matt threw me the highest ever and I still didn’t drop the ball. Even in the water I didn’t drop it.” She smiled at her son. “I saw.” It was a running theme with Jack today. The biggest castle, the longest throw—as if everything about today had to be the best because it was the last.

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The last day meant goodbyes, and she hated goodbyes. Couldn’t count the number she’d said and heard. Foster parents. Friends. Schools. Needing to do something, she stood and gathered the toys before walking to the water to check on Annie and Gracie. She laid the shovels and Barbie next to their mound of sand and straightened. Heavy hands settled on her bare shoulders and she felt Matt’s warm presence behind her. “You okay?” “Yeah.” She nodded but the word caught in her throat. Would they keep in touch? Did she want to? Would she worry every second he was in danger? Would she even know if he’d been killed? A rush of icy cold ran through her. Without thinking, she turned and wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him as tightly as she could. She wanted to burrow inside him, put her lips against his skin. His

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arms came around her immediately and she closed her eyes, absorbing him, feeling for one second like they were a chain that couldn’t be broken. But they weren’t. And they could. Matt and Jack did their hand-jiving slaps and bumps, a routine so long and complicated it took five tries to get it right. “Extremely awesome,” she said. The bright smile on her son’s face was even more awesome. She tried not to notice Matt’s smile, equally bright. “We have to teach it to Mom. I need it for luck before the games, and she doesn’t know any moves.” “I have moves,” she said. “Jack just doesn’t like them.” Jack gave Matt a guy-to-guy look. “They’re girl moves.” “Why would you say that?” she asked, feigning extreme offense.

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Jack gave her a duh look. “Because you’re a girl.” Matt tried to cover his laugh. “Well, he does have a point.” She raised her eyebrows at Matt. “Dude. You’re getting me in trouble. Don’t you know the last thing you say to a girl is she does stuff like a girl?” “But she is a girl,” Jack said, thoroughly confused. “Come on. This girl needs to put more sunscreen on your back.” “Mom.” He drew out her name in protest. “Why doesn’t Matt have to get that all the time?” “He’s a grown-up.” “I do.” They’d spoken at the same time, but she didn’t look at Matt, just led Jack to stand in front of her chair and coated his skin. Matt

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followed, and even behind dark glasses, she felt him watching her. “I’ll be down in a minute,” Matt called after Jack, who was already running away, probably feeling triumphant she’d forgotten to do his face. But she forgot everything whenever Matt focused his attention on her the way he was now. Intense and hot, like he was slipping inside her mind. Maybe even inside her soul. He sat in front of her chair, and her thighs parted automatically to accommodate his big body. “I don’t want to burn,” he said. There was little chance of that, but she’d take any excuse to touch him. The second she smoothed her lotioncovered hands across his back, he lowered his head and sighed. She did the same on the inside.

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Matt’s skin was hot and hard beneath her hands. She fanned her fingers out and over his shoulders, feeling the strength, tracing the scars. She passed the point of protecting him from the sun and moved to another place, somewhere she couldn’t stop herself from going. His hands rose to circle her ankles. He slid his palms higher, his thumbs stroking her calves. She held in a moan at the sensation of his hands on her body. Anywhere on her body. He would be slow and thorough, and…she’d be saying goodbye in less than twelve hours. Abby closed her eyes and gave in to her need to feel him. Becoming even bolder, she slid her hands over his shoulders and down his chest, felt the hard, defined ridges. Silky hair swirled around flat nipples. She touched and explored, then moved back up, repeating her course, mesmerizing herself, until he stilled her hands.

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Linking their fingers, he crossed her arms over his chest. She leaned forward until her breasts pressed against his upper back and she rested her cheek against the top of his head. She wanted to hold him, and be held by him. “Are you watching the kids?” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Yes,” he whispered back. Because it was that kind of moment. They sat that way in silence, seconds and minutes passing, his warm breath across her arm. Finally Matt raised their joined hands and pressed his lips to the back of hers before letting go. Jack and Gracie were calling for a trip into the ocean. He rose and held out his hand. “The munchkins call.” She avoided his gaze, suddenly embarrassed by her roaming hands.

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“Abby.” She stared at his outstretched hand. Don’t. Don’t reach for anyone. The familiar warning sounded farther away than usual. So, she took what he offered and his hand closed around hers, strong and sure, giving a little tug. “Come swim with me. I won’t let you go. I promise.” His dimpled grin turned hot, burning her, his deep voice fanning the flames. “Don’t be afraid.” That he would let her drown? No, she wouldn’t be afraid of anything if he was holding her. That’s what she was afraid of, because after today, he wouldn’t be. — The six of them waded into the ocean, Charlie attached to Matt’s side as usual. Gracie rode on his back, and Jack hung on to

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his outstretched forearm like a monkey. Matt held Abby’s hand tightly, and with Annie holding her other, he inched into the water, letting Abby get used to it. She still wasn’t a fan. They stopped not far from shore, the waves lapping gently. The kids splashed and squealed until a flock of seagulls on the shore won their attention. “Come here.” Matt tightened his grip on Abby’s hand before she could get away. With one arm around her waist, he held her tight against his side. With his eyes still on the kids, he walked them slowly backward until Abby’s feet could no longer touch the bottom. She clung to his side, one arm holding on around his shoulders. The silky smooth legs he’d just stroked swayed and slid sensually against his own. All he could think was how much farther up her leg he’d wanted to go. Still wanted to go. The rolling water worked her

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tank top up, allowing his fingertips to find the soft skin at her waist. He should have forced her into the water days ago. “What do you think? Good? Bad?” “It’s okay. It was stupid to be scared.” “It’s never stupid to be afraid. And you had damn good reason. Besides, here you are. In the ocean.” And here he was, closer to her than he’d been all week. And quickly becoming harder than he’d been in…a very long time. While she kept her eyes on the kids, he kept his on her: soft, wet lips just inches from his; drops of water connecting her lashes, making them even darker and thicker. How could he have known her for such a short time and not be able to picture his days without her? “What would you be doing if you weren’t here?” “Hmm.” She let her head fall against his shoulder. The sound of her voice hummed through him. “What time is it?”

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He checked his watch. “Two-thirty.” “If it wasn’t summer, I’d be picking up the kids at school.” Weeks from now, when he was…wherever he was, he wanted to be able to picture her and what she was doing. “What about on a Tuesday, at nine-fifteen?” “I don’t know.” He felt her smile into his neck. “Maybe the grocery store.” Her thumb moved in a slow circular pattern over his skin, the sensation going straight to his balls. He adjusted her slightly, before she floated around and felt just how much her touch affected him. He concentrated on their shell seekers, scampering for the perfect find. Theirs. In a way, they had been theirs, at least for a week.

Chapter 12 Abby listened to the voices and giggles coming from the other room. The kids had let Matt in ten minutes ago, and here she was still in the bathroom. She stood in front of the mirror, trying to see what Matt saw. Excitement and nerves chased each other around in her stomach. Get a grip. This wasn’t a date; she and Matt had become good friends. That’s all. She walked out of the bathroom as ready as she was ever going to be. “So, then what did you do?” Annie asked, sitting enthralled at Matt’s feet along with Jack. “I used my knife to cut off the damaged parachute so I wouldn’t get tangled in it, then I pulled—”

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Their eyes met. His heated gaze slid from her face, over her chest and the V-neck sundress that tied around her neck. He continued his perusal slowly down the length of her legs and back up again. “Hi.” That was all she could manage with his hot eyes melting her from across the room. She stared at the man in front of her and wondered for the hundredth time why he was here. He could be anywhere, with anyone. But there he sat, telling her children stories. Being the hero her son never had. Engaging Annie as Charlie sat perched on his thigh, playing with his big billion-function watch. The white sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up to reveal thick forearms. His jeans were dark and tight around his thighs, and he wore boots she’d never seen before—snakeskin maybe. His other arm was outstretched to keep Gracie from falling off

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the couch as she stood clipping tiny barrettes into his hair. Never taking his eyes from hers, he stood, setting Charlie on his feet. “You look beautiful.” She smoothed her hands over the silk of her short sundress. “Thank you. Your hair looks nice.” He didn’t laugh, just reached up and pulled out a tiny hair bow, still burning her with his hot gaze. She was already a little breathless when his hand grazed her bare back and he led her out the door. — Beautiful didn’t begin to describe her. They’d spent practically the entire week together, but somehow this felt different. He knew it wasn’t a date in her mind, and it shouldn’t be in his. You don’t usually take four kids on a date. But in some ways, most ways, it was

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more intimate than any date he’d ever been on. He wanted to touch her, hold her, make love to her. He imagined all the ways he would caress her body as he explored every inch, taking extra time with her smooth, rounded belly. He wanted to strip her clothes off and get inside her so badly he was about to combust. Was dying to grab her and show her he wasn’t a good man. But he couldn’t do that and then walk away. Not to her. Together they walked, Abby’s hand firmly tucked in his, surrounded by the kids, all in various stages of motion. The girls wore sundresses and sandals, the boys khaki shorts and polos. Gracie’s curls were held back by a glittery headband, and Annie’s braids were as neat and controlled as she was. “Right this way,” the hostess said. They followed her across the restaurant balcony to their reserved table. The same balcony where he’d watched Abby dance a

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week ago. Not even a week. But how many times had he gone out with the same woman? Three times? Four? That didn’t come to more than twelve hours, maybe, and not all of it spent talking. A group of businessmen tracked her with lusty eyes until Matt shut them down with a glare. Don’t f*cking look at her. Don’t even think about her. No doubt they were calling him a lucky bastard. He wished to God it was true. The six of them ate dinner as they’d eaten every meal, talking and laughing, juggling kids and condiments. Annie wiggled a loose tooth with her tongue. She’d look adorable with her front teeth missing. Not that he would see it. The five-star food suddenly tasted like dirt. He took a drink of iced tea to force it down. They finished dinner and he and Abby let the kids move to the nearby steps to watch the band set up. A young woman in a flowing

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skirt, hair falling past her waist, tuned her guitar while a man behind her readied his violin. Matt and Abby sat quietly, sipping their drinks. Matt took her hand because he couldn’t not touch her. He turned it over in his, played with her fingers, and stroked the pad of his thumb over her soft skin. It always looked so small in his, so delicate. She turned to him and flashed that sweet smile, the one that never failed to make his heart stumble. Men would try to step in and claim her, be a father to the kids. Hold the baby in their arms. The thought made him sick. And furious, and…so f*cking sad. The music started and the kids were eager to dance. He led Abby down the stairs, one hand at her back, the other hand outstretched in case she stumbled. They found chairs nearby and sat to watch the kids. Jack showed off his moves, something like karate set to a spastic beat. Charlie spun until he

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collapsed in a fit of giggles. The girls twirled in front of the smiling young woman at the microphone. A few songs later, Gracie ran up, clambering into his lap. She sat facing him, her knobby knees digging into his thighs. “Hi, ladybug. Having fun?” She nodded. “I’m dancing. Did you see me? I spinned awound eighteen twenty times.” “Eighteen twenty, huh? That’s a lot, and I did see you.” Gracie threw her arms around his neck in a spontaneous hug that painfully melted his heart. Then she pulled back and took his face in her tiny hands. “I wish you were my daddy. What do you fink?” Her innocent question came like a punch to the gut. What did he think? That he wanted it more than anything. That if things

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had been different. If the armor-piercing bullet hadn’t torn a hole through his best friend. If— Matt swallowed back the bile that always accompanied the memory. “I think any man who had you for his little girl would be the luckiest man in the world.” Her brows knitted together and she tilted her head the slightest bit. “Do you feel wucky?” His heart cracked under the increasing pressure, but Gracie didn’t stay for an answer, just gave him her brightest smile and scooted to the ground. While he struggled to put himself back together, Abby shook her head. “Matt…I don’t know what to say. I don’t know why she said that. I can’t imagine what you must be thinking.” No, she definitely couldn’t.

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“I mean we’ve completely monopolized your vacation. The kids have been all over you every second and—” “Abby, do you honestly think I couldn’t have outmaneuvered a group of preschoolers if I’d wanted to be alone?” But avoid the woman looking at him with big green eyes? He’d never had a chance. He abruptly stood and held out his hand. “Dance with me.” Matt guided them within watching distance of the kids, pulled her in close, and held her like he’d wanted to for so long. He savored the feel of her in his arms, loving the dress, which left her smooth skin bare for his touch. He brought their joined hands to his chest, his thumb rubbing lazily over the back of hers, and they swayed gently to the soft lyrics about holding on and leaving. Fitting, since all he wanted was to hold on, and all he could do was leave.

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Laying his cheek against her hair, he breathed her in, a hint of vanilla, but mostly just Abby’s own unique smell. One he loved. She eased her hand up and around his neck, her fingers sliding into the hair at his nape. She was his, at least for the moment, and in his arms. He surrounded her, and even though she was small, she surrounded him. Fit against him like she was made to be there. The rest of the world faded away until there was nowhere else he’d rather be. Not with his team, not with his family. Nowhere. Six days. Six f*cking days he’d had with her. It seemed like a second, and like a lifetime. Matt sifted his fingers through her silky hair, letting the strands fall over the back of his hand like water. He found her neck warm and damp, imagined putting his mouth there. She rested her cheek against his shoulder, moved into him until he felt her full breasts against his chest, her belly against his.

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When he feathered his lips over the bare skin of her shoulder, she trembled and tightened her hold. He fought against the urge to fist her hair in his hand, pull her head back and kiss her with all the pent-up desire running through him. To show her she was his. Then he thought about how soon this would end. How she would be out of his arms and he would never touch her like this again. The music rose in a crescendo, and so did their awareness of each other. His fingers on her lower back contracted, holding her tighter, more desperately. And he knew. Knew without a doubt, he was holding his heart and soul in his arms. And he never wanted to let her go. — The final notes of the song hung in the air, and Abby sensed couples leaving the dance

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floor. The singer said thank you; the band packed up equipment. It was over. The last day. The last song. She reluctantly lifted her head from his shoulder, but neither let go. His hand stayed at her back, her arms remained wrapped around his shoulders. Everything in her was wound so tightly she shook with it as she locked eyes with the man who’d held her closer and longer than she’d ever been held before. Charlie barreled headfirst into Matt, wrapping both arms around his leg and forcing space between them. Jack tugged on her hand. “Mom, can we walk on the beach? Pleeese.” The night breeze picked up a strand of her hair and blew it across her lips. They both reached for it and their fingers touched. Another jolt. “Yeah, Mom,” Matt said, mimicking Jack, though his eyes weren’t laughing. “Please.”

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How could she say no to a few more minutes with him? They dropped their shoes and walked a ways before stopping to admire the long strip of white reflecting off the water like a bright path to the full moon. The kids dipped their toes one last time. Matt pulled her back against him, his body warm, his big hands covering her belly. She felt everything with a heightened awareness: The heat from Matt’s body seeping through her skin and into her blood. The silky fabric of her dress blowing against her legs. The cool sand under her bare feet and the sound of the surf that muffled the children’s nearby voices. He lowered his head until his smooth cheek brushed hers. His palms stroked and caressed. “You think she’s awake?” “Maybe.” She ran her fingers lightly through the hair on his forearms until she covered his hands with her own. The baby

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moved more when she was lying down, but he was close and she liked his hands where they were. She’d never craved a man’s touch or wanted desperately to touch him in return. There were a lot of things she hadn’t felt or wanted before Matt. Sensations and emotions that now threatened to overwhelm her, swamp and drown her. The rough crashing of the waves followed by their peaceful retreat mirrored her life. People came and went. They rolled into your life, then left quietly. Sometimes without a word. “Abby.” His warm breath feathered over her hair and she shook her head. She didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want to say goodbye. “Abby.” When Matt forced her to turn and face him she laid a shaking finger against his lips.

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“Don’t. There’s nothing to say.” And she couldn’t stand to hear that he’d miss her. That he’d always remember her. That he was sorry. He had no reason to be sorry. With her ear pressed to his chest, she focused on the beat of his heart. The muscled arms wrapped around her like an impenetrable wall, his hand sliding up her back and under her hair until his fingers pressed into her scalp. “Just tell me you feel it too.” Tears threatened and she bit her lip against them. “I feel it.” But she’d convinced herself a long time ago that she didn’t need more. That she didn’t want more, not enough to face the risk of losing it. Things were ending exactly when she’d known they would, but she’d been wrong about it not hurting. —

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Matt pulled back the covers and laid a sleeping Charlie in the bed. After taking off his dinner clothes, Matt slipped him into the SpongeBob T-shirt Abby had left on his pillow along with a Pull-Up. Charlie didn’t stir when Matt brushed aside his hair to check the stitches one last time. His days of having a toddler glued to his side were over. A shirt and shorts lay on top of the dresser for the ride home tomorrow. Everything else was packed. Matt’s jaw clenched. He couldn’t even stand the idea of her packing the car by herself. How on earth was he going to feel when she was alone, too far away for him to get to her if she needed him? And this was just the beginning. He paused in the doorway and listened to the sounds he could have gotten used to: Abby’s voice over the sound of running water. A stool scraping across the tile floor. There was a muffled “I need to spit,” then a

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scream. Gotta move when someone spits, he thought with a stab of regret. Gracie bounced out of the bathroom and caught him by the legs. He limped along, dragging his foot and the girl attached all the way to her bed. He shouldn’t get her riled up at bedtime, but he couldn’t resist flying her through the air and dropping her with a bounce. Because this was it, the last tuck in. She settled back, growing uncharacteristi cally quiet, her big brown eyes searching his. He swept wayward curls from her cheek and tugged lightly on her ear, wiping away the serious face and replacing it with her dimpled grin. He forced himself to smile back even as her words echoed in his mind. I wish you were my daddy. No. He couldn’t be her daddy, because she deserved a daddy who would be there to tuck in his little girl every night. She sat up and hugged his neck.

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“You’re queezing me,” she said when his arms came around her. “Am I?” Matt paused to swallow past the lump in his throat. “Well, I shouldn’t squeeze a ladybug. She might fly right away.” He tucked her in tight and placed a kiss on her forehead before he completely lost it. On the other side of the room, Annie didn’t say a word, just watched him with solemn hazel eyes. Yeah. She knew. That’s why she’d kept her distance. Smart. Keep those instincts, baby girl. Matt slid one of her braids through his hand. “Good night, princess.” He clicked off the lamp and passed Abby on his way out. He slumped onto the couch and rested his forearms on his knees, studying the various colors of the shag carpet. At the sound of shuffling feet, he glanced up. Jack stood in front of him, wearing his favorite SpiderMan pajamas, which were two sizes too small.

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“Hey, bud. Ready for bed?” Jack also studied the very interesting carpet. “Yeah.” Damn, I’m going to miss this kid. “Remember what I told you?” “Yeah. Ball close, head down.” Matt reached out and ruffled his hair. “That’s right.” He smoothed it back into place and cupped the back of the boy’s head. “And look after your mom, okay?” “Okay,” Jack said, back to carpet studying. “You have my number, right?” “Yeah.” He’d made sure Jack put it in a special pocket of his suitcase before dinner. Just in case. “You can call me anytime. I’ll always answer.” Jack looked up, fighting to control his trembling lip. “Even when you’re being a soldier?”

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The knot around his heart tightened. No. He wouldn’t always answer and Jack was smart enough to know it. “It might take me a few days, but yes. Even then.” Matt pulled him in for a hug, and when Jack gripped his neck so hard his little arms shook, he closed his eyes and fought the burn of tears. “Jack.” Abby spoke softly from the door. “You ready for bed?” Jack slowly released Matt’s neck and stepped back. “Keep your head down.” Matt’s voice sounded thick and scratchy to his own ears. He stood, squeezed Jack’s shoulder, and walked to the sliding glass doors. How the hell did men do this? This wasn’t even his family and it was tearing his heart out. He stared at the dark night, replaying every minute of the past week, until he saw Abby’s reflection in the glass. “He asleep?” “Almost.”

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Matt didn’t turn around, because when he did there would only be one thing left to say. He watched her raise her hand to touch his back then drop it to her side. So brave and independent, so capable, yet small and fragile. When he couldn’t put it off any longer, he turned to face her. She bit her lip, seeming as much at a loss for words as he was. Her eyes flicked around the room before finding his. “Thank you for dinner.” “You’re welcome.” He wished one of them could say something, anything, that would ease the churning he felt in his gut. She’d been wrong. There were things to say. He just didn’t know what they were. Or maybe he did and he just couldn’t say them. “I better go. You’ve got a long drive tomorrow.” She rubbed at the faint line on her finger. “Yeah.”

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He followed her to the door. “You sure you don’t need anything taken to the car?” “I’m sure. It’s mostly done.” He nodded, opened the door, and they both stepped out. Was there really nothing left to say? There was something between them and they both knew it. Were they really just going to walk away from it without a word? “Thank you. For everything. I…” She dropped her gaze to his shirt before raising her eyes back to his. “You know, I haven’t heard them laugh so much since…probably ever. It was good for them. You were good.” She smiled, a disappointing fraction of what he usually got and her eyes slid away from his. “Anyway, they were happy this week, so thank you.” “And what about you, Abby? Were you happy?” She looked up at him, eyes glistening sadly. “Yes. I was happy.”

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He wanted to point out the key word there: was. But what good would it do to force her to admit she was hurting as much as he was? That she wanted him as much as he wanted her? She rose onto her tiptoes, placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, and stepped back. His fingers curled to keep from touching her. sh*t. “You have my number.” The words came out hard, his fisted hands clenched at his sides. “Let me know you made it home.” She gave a jerky nod. “Okay, then.” He looked long and hard at her one last time and walked away. He was three strides gone, his toes a centimeter from making the turn to the elevator, when he froze. No. No way in hell was he leaving like this. He spun around, covered the ground between them, and said her name all at the same time. “Abby.”

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Her back was to him, her hand on the doorknob, but she turned at the sound of his voice. Was that relief in her eyes? He didn’t wait to find out. He held her face in his hands and took what he’d wanted for so long. The kiss didn’t start slow but burst like a sudden storm, hot and needy. Tongues meeting, his fingers tight in her hair. Everything he’d held in check all week pouring out. Her hands came up, holding tightly to his forearms. He angled her head and kissed her harder, deeper. She softened and opened to him, moaned into his mouth, the vibration running through his entire body, burning him, making him more desperate for her. He feasted on her mouth as her hands moved to his chest, her delicate fingers fisting in the fabric of his shirt. She was killing him. Her taste. Her smell. Knowing this was all he could have. One hand came up to tangle in her hair. The other skimmed down the velvet skin of her back

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until he felt the edge of her panties through the thin fabric. He moved lower, squeezed, and she responded by pulling at his hair and kissing him back with the same intensity. Her body was soft and giving like he knew she would be. And he needed more. More time. Less clothes. His mouth on her breast, slowly working its way down her body. He had to pull back. He released her hair and cupped her cheek. He touched his lips to hers, gently this time—once, then again. When he leaned back, her face was tilted up, her eyes closed. She truly did look like an angel. His thumb traced along the soft line of her brows, over her cheekbones, soaking her in. Committing every detail to memory. Her eyes blinked open, slightly unfocused. She stood absolutely still, like she wasn’t sure what had just happened. Cheeks flushed, hair mussed, lips wet and shiny.

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He started to speak but no sound came out. He kissed her one last time, slow and lingering, trying desperately to tell her with a kiss everything he couldn’t say, before letting her go. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “I’ll wait for you to lock the door.” She didn’t move, had no idea how close he was to stripping her down and carrying her through that door. “Abby. Go inside.” The harshness in his voice got her moving. He watched the door close behind her, listened for that final click. Five minutes later Matt walked away from the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Chapter 13 Abby had half expected to see Matt waiting outside her door when she’d left that morning. Then she’d envisioned him leaning against the wall when the elevator opened to the lobby. She spent most of the six-hour drive convincing herself she wasn’t disappointed. Fighting the bite of loneliness that hadn’t been there before the beach. Before Matt. The tree-lined highway stretched in front of her, a Disney movie mesmerized the children, and her mind ran wild. Like horses breaking away from a wagon, they picked up memories as they picked up speed, pulling her along whether she wanted them to or not. Matt’s voice, as warm and rich as his chocolate eyes. Everything about you

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interests me. Her name on his lips—Abby. And the kiss. Heat flooded her. Firm lips on hers, big hands roaming her body as he devoured her. She’d felt his strength, the desperation in his touch, when he’d clutched her hair in his fist. And she’d let him, encouraged him. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel and she licked her lips, imagining she could still taste him. She’d never known a kiss could do that. So hot something inside her had melted. Was it possible a person could be the same after a kiss like that? She turned up the air-conditioning in the car. If he hadn’t pulled back, she might have opened the door behind her, taken him to her bed. And that would have been a huge mistake, even if she had wanted more. Memories of that kiss would have to last her a lifetime. But if any kiss could go the

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distance, it was that one. If any man could affect her over the miles and years to come, it was Matt. The way he’d looked at her, like he wanted her, like it was killing him to walk away. But he had. She should consider herself lucky. Her heart would be bruised, but she’d gotten away just in the nick of time, just before she got so close that being without him would make her bleed. After five stops—two for food and three for the bathroom—they reached their home in Raleigh. Abby brought in the last bag from the car and dropped it from her exhausted arms. The kids had helped unload until their help became more of a hindrance and she’d sent them upstairs to play. She had maybe twelve minutes before all hell broke loose. Her phone rang as she carried a load to her bedroom. Of course Angie would call to check on her. She hit the button. “Yes, Mom, I made it home.”

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“Is that what you’re calling me now?” Her bags fell to the bathroom floor and she froze at the sound of Matt’s voice. “I guess you made it home.” She tried desperately to still the fluttering inside her enough to answer. “I did. Yes. Make it home.” The disjointed thoughts pouring from her head and out her mouth sounded like Tarzan. Me in bathroom. Matt on phone. “The kids make the trip okay?” His voice sounded deeper over the phone, and so close. If she closed her eyes and blocked out the post-vacation disaster all over the floor, she was right back at the beach. Back with this man she never thought she’d talk to again. “Uh, yeah. They were fine. I’m sorry I didn’t call. I started unloading the car and…I forgot.” And she’d never thought in a million years he actually meant for her to call him

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when he’d made the passing comment. They’d said goodbye. That was supposed to be the end. “You sound tired.” She was, but this wasn’t tired. This was her having no idea what to say. “I’m fine.” His soft laugh blew through the phone line, brushing over her body like his gentle touch. “Good night, Abby. I’ll call you tomorrow.” He hung up before she even had a chance to reply. What? Wait! He’d call her tomorrow? No! her heart screamed. You said this would be over! You said there’d be no risk! There wasn’t. There wouldn’t be. By eight o’clock the kids were in bed and she was on her third load of laundry. She stretched to reach the bottom of the washer, not easy with a pregnant belly. Her cell rang again and her heart knocked out an irregular

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beat at the thought it could be Matt. Just like Pavlov’s dog. Stupid. “Hello?” “Would it kill you to pick up the phone and call me?” Shoot. “Sorry, Ang, I’m a bad friend.” Calling people, reaching out, did not come naturally. “Why do you sound out of breath?” Uh, because I thought you might be someone else? “I’m not.” “Hmm.” Angie sounded skeptical. “Are you feeling okay? How was the trip?” “I’m fine and the trip was good. Three movies and we were home.” “Thank God for DVD players. Joe and I would never go anywhere without that. How our parents ever took us on vacation is beyond me. My dad with his swiping hand.” Angie laughed, then must have noticed the silence on Abby’s end. “Shoot. Sorry, girl.”

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Angie didn’t know the details, but she knew Abby had lost her parents and been in the system. “Don’t worry about it. I know what you mean.” “So, how was your goodbye with the hottie? You two exchange numbers? Please tell me you hooked up.” Angie didn’t wait for her to answer. “What am I thinking? Of course you didn’t hook up, but I’m sure he’ll call. Just give him a few days.” Angie waited for a response. “Abby?” She wasn’t about to tell Angie about the kiss, but she couldn’t lie completely. “Actually he already did. Call, that is.” “Ha! I knew it. I knew he had the look.” Abby envisioned the look her friend was referring to: the intense brown-eyed look of desire right before he’d kissed her. “Tell me how right I was. I’ve had a sh*tty day with jelly and gum in the hair, and

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there’s a Tonka truck in the toilet that will remain there until Joe gets off third shift.” “Sorry I can’t make your day. We were friends. He was just making sure I got home okay.” Responsibility over. “He’s a nice guy. Of course he’d call. Even if he wanted to…whatever, which I don’t…he can’t. He’s got important soldier stuff to get back to.” “Abby, soldiers do have famil—” “Stop.” Abby refused to give the idea a chance to take root. “Don’t even say it. I’m not getting involved with him. Or anyone.” “I think you already are.” “Angie, please. You know I’m not and you know I can’t.” “Because you’re afraid to get close to people?” “No, because I’m happy with my life the way it is.” Because being alone greatly reduced the risk of being left.

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Angie huffed. “Well, someday that strategy might cause you to lose something really great. And I still say you already are.” There were screams in the background and Angie said a quick goodbye before Abby could say Am not. — Matt’s foul mood had worsened with every mile he’d put between himself and the beach. Between himself and Abby. Go home. Get some perspective. That’d been his plan until his lips had touched hers and all rational thought had fled. Her taste, her soft mouth, her body beneath his hands, had been hotter than any reality he’d ever known. Slender arms tight around his neck. Her fingers digging into his shoulders. Hot little body pressed against his. Mindblowing.

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Your mind was blown before the kiss. True enough. He’d been blown since the second he’d met her. Matt eased off the gas as he exited the interstate and turned toward the Naval Amphibious Base, Little Creek. A thick forest bordered both sides of the service road he’d driven so often he could practically do so with his eyes closed. His mind wandered from the pavement in front of him. A glance at the dashboard clock told him it’d been fifteen hours since he’d seen her, touched her. He’d spent three hours trying to rationalize calling her, and now he questioned the wisdom of it. He’d told himself hearing her voice would ease him, allow him to focus on what was important. What was important. That’s where he hit a fork. He smiled, picturing her all flustered and surprised on the other end of his call. He

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wanted to see that in person. God, she felt so far away. Was far away. But Teddy was dead. The familiar pain that had lessened in the past days flooded back. And then he’d gone and said he’d call her tomorrow. Royally stupid. He needed to let it go. He needed to take a step back, steer himself around the fog she created. He needed to think. But the farther he got from her the more his stomach cramped and the thicker the fog became. He pulled up in front of building C and got out of his truck. Right now he needed to prove he was ready for work. Matt walked down the hallway toward his CO’s office. The door was open, as usual, and he knocked twice on the frame. “Come in,” replied a familiar voice. Matt entered and stood at attention in front of the man behind the desk. Lieutenant Commander Bill Crawford was a friend as well as his commanding officer.

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“Well, well, well. Look who’s back.” “Lieutenant.” Matt saluted and dropped into the metal chair across from him. “You ready to stop being an asshole?” Matt had vehemently argued the medical ruling, calling it a load of sh*t. More than once. “I’m ready, sir.” “Ready to what?” “I’m ready to stop being an asshole,” Matt said. “Did that just make your day?” Bill’s face broke into a grin. “Gotta get my kicks where I can.” He stacked the papers spread on his desk. “Heard you took a little trip after I kicked you out.” “Sir?” “Have a nice vacation while I sat here doing paperwork?” He had a flash of Abby’s lips after he’d kissed her. Abby’s smile. The kids’ laughter. “It was fine.”

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Crawford leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers over his chest. He tapped his index fingers together in his classic thinking position. “Is there something you wanted to ask me, sir?” “You’re coming up on what? Twelve years as a SEAL?” Matt didn’t answer. Bill knew exactly how long it’d been since he’d been at his side for the majority of it. “Any thoughts on your future?” sh*t. Yeah, he had thoughts. They involved being the best damn Navy SEAL he could be, for as long as he could be. Because that’s what his friend had asked of him. What Teddy would be doing himself if he were here. “I’ve got no plans to do anything different.” “You’d make a great trainer. You’re experienced. You’re patient.”

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“Maybe when I’m old like you.” Bill smiled at the standing joke between them, then sobered. “Matt, you’re one of the smartest men I know. The things you see tactically in a second that no one else sees all day…” He spread his hands and put them back together. “I don’t need to tell you you’re still a SEAL even if you’re not assigned to an operational team.” “No, you don’t.” “Becoming an officer is still on the table. You know that.” “What are you, my f*cking career counselor?” “No. I’m your friend, damn it. And I seem to remember you tossing around some ideas a few years back.” Matt broke his friend’s hard gaze and looked around the office. “That was a long time ago.” “Before Teddy Wilson died.”

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Crawford had been there. Not at his side when the kill shot hit, but he’d been on the op, and Matt didn’t need any reminders. He had enough nightmares as it was. “Is there a point here?” Bill watched him in that quiet way of his until Matt wanted to squirm. He was one second from asking if they were done— “Go by medical, check your gear, and get some sleep. You leave at 0300.” Matt stood, not asking what or where. He didn’t care. He was back with his team. Back to the adrenaline-laced job he loved, where he planned and executed without emotions and memories wreaking havoc. Back where the intricacies of special warfare kept his mind busy enough to block the nightmares. Much like being with Abby. But this is what he did. What he’d promised to keep doing.

Chapter 14 Abby drove through the iron gates toward the ivy-covered buildings that comprised Rawston Academy’s lower school. The kids in the backseat buzzed with the excitement of a new school year. She was low on buzz. Matt hadn’t called. Not the next day, like he’d said, or the five days after that. Out of sight, out of mind. Nothing new and not a huge surprise, but exactly why she wished he hadn’t called in the first place. “Mom, balloons!” Gracie squealed. Today was their registration fair. Not a fair really, more like a chance for the mothers to get together and trade vacation stories and tennis team victories. Gracie skipped along beside Abby as they passed under balloon arches in the school’s maroon and gold colors. The heat of early September rippled

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on the black asphalt and had Abby sweating in the short walk from car to building. In the blessed air-conditioning, she picked up her children’s packets and smiled at the woman working the registration table. “Don’t forget to sign up to volunteer,” the woman said. Three upper-school students, dressed sharply in maroon blazers bearing the school crest, took the kids to their respective classrooms for games and refreshments. Annie, usually painfully shy, took the older girl’s hand, beaming up at the upperclassman like she was the president. Next stop: reception hall. Abby took a deep breath and let it out. Like a country club luncheon, women stood in groups, holding dainty glasses of the minty iced tea served at every Rawston Academy function. Abby made the rounds, smiling and saying hello to the ladies working the committee sign-up tables. So not her thing.

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More of a worker bee, she preferred jobs behind the scenes. Way behind the scenes. Like sending money or supplies for special projects. She thought of Matt, so large and in charge, saving the world. Maybe that needed to change. Just do it. It’s volunteering. Not like they can say no. Abby walked straight to the head honchos of school service. The women appraised her as she approached, in the way women do, noting every detail. That sick feeling of walking into the high school cafeteria crept over her. The no-name girl in no-name clothes who lived in a group home with an everyother-day shower rotation. She’d never asked to sit with anyone. Had learned by the third grade that if you didn’t ask, they couldn’t tell you no. But Matt had sat by her for days. She forced herself to stand strong and not deviate.

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“Abby.” The PTA president greeted her in a louder than necessary voice as she reached out with a stiff hug, patting her back lightly, keeping plenty of space between them. Wouldn’t want to mess up her perfectly coiffed hair. “You look so cute, for being pregnant and all,” she continued. “How are you? I’ve thought about you all summer, but we were just so busy…” She shook her head, not a single hair joining the motion. “That’s okay.” Really. “Oh, me too, Abby,” another woman piped in. “The summer flew by, didn’t it? Carl and I took a last-minute trip to Europe while the twins were at camp and…Oh gosh. Just listen to me going on and on about life with my husband and here you are a widow.” She tilted her face, pouty lips and all. “Forgive me?” Abby wanted to laugh. “Of course. It’s fine. I was—”

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“Good morning, ladies.” The headmaster of the lower school joined them, his mintgreen dress shirt popping against his white linen jacket. Tall and tan, with sandy blond hair combed back from his face, William Stafford was nice looking, in a Robert Redford kind of way. Not in a Matt kind of way. The women excused themselves and Dr. Stafford bestowed a radiant smile. “Can I get you a drink?” “No, thank you.” William had always been extremely kind to her, personally welcoming her to every event and program, and she appreciated it. Explaining Josh’s repeated absence had been awkward at times. “I hope I didn’t interrupt an important meeting.” “Not at all. We were just discussing how I might volunteer this year.” “That’s wonderful. They’d be lucky to have you anywhere.” He smiled at her, looking every bit sincere.

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Abby slid her hand over her belly, caressing a tiny kicking foot. The bathroom called her name, as it often did. “Well, I need to gather up the kids. Lots of school shopping to do.” “An exciting time of year,” William said with a smile. “It was nice to see you. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.” He moved on to greet someone else and she made her exit. The more Abby thought about those women, the angrier she became. Snappy comebacks formed in her mind, as usual too late to be effective. How dare they? It wasn’t like her, but she was tempted to sign up for multiple committees, just to prove she could. — Matt let his head rest against the inside of the Chinook and replayed his conversation with his CO as the bird flew them at a

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hundred fifty miles per hour back to the forward operating base. Bill was right. He had thought about making a change two years ago. He’d even gone so far as to set up an appointment with the navy’s career counselor. His mind drifted to another night flight, this one over a Colombian rain forest. The last ride he’d have sitting next to his best friend and there’d been too much space between them. His platoon had just come off four days leave, and for whatever reason, the time with his family had been different. Maybe it was getting older and reassessing his life. Or holding his newborn niece while the priest poured baptismal water over her angelic forehead. Whatever it was…he’d wondered. Was he missing his chance at a different life? Did a man reach a point when it was too late? The bad timing didn’t just apply to finding the right woman; it also applied to kids, like the newborn he’d held in his arms.

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He had no regrets about how he’d spent the past decade; he didn’t want to have any in the next one. Teddy hadn’t agreed. They sat in the hangar, cleaning their weapons, waiting on their ride into the jungle. Matt reinserted the bolt on his assault rifle. “I think I’m going to talk to the commander about BUD/S training.” “What? You didn’t get enough the first time?” “As a trainer, dipsh*t.” “What the hell for?” “Just thinking it might be good to do something different for a while.” He turned the gun over in his hands. “You ever think about it?” “f*ck no,” T said, reloading his Glock. “Okay, it might be fun. For a day. Chew some ass and get out some of my lingering aggression from Hell Week.”

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Hell Week had been hell for sure, but Matt had left with a deep appreciation for the men who’d trained him. He knew he’d be good at it, plus it’d give him a taste of semi-normal life. T stopped what he was doing. “You’re seriously considering this sh*t?” Matt looked at his hands. Steady. Trained. Deadly. He had no problem with killing people who killed and threatened the innocent, but that’s not all his hands could be used for. “There’re other things in life, you know?” But Matt could see by the look in his eyes that Teddy didn’t know. Or he didn’t want to. The military was T’s family, the platoon his only brothers. Teddy paused from packing his gear. “You may want to die at home an old man. Not me. I’ll die fighting, dripping my blood over the battlefield as I go.” “Don’t say sh*t like that.”

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“Why? It’s the truth.” T grinned. “Don’t make me go all…You can’t handle the truth.” Matt couldn’t help but smile. T had a gift for reciting famous movie lines and all other manner of keeping things light in tense moments. He thought maybe T was going to let the subject drop. Should have known better. “You’d really quit the team?” sh*t. Matt heard the pain in his friend’s voice. He was taking this personally. “I don’t think it’d be quitting,” Matt said. “I just don’t want to look back on my life with regrets.” “Neither do I,” Teddy had said. Then he’d stowed his gun, picked up his gear bag, and walked out of the hangar without a backward glance.

Chapter 15 The morning sun blinked at her through the passing trees as Abby drove to school. With kid music playing in the background, she made a mental list of all the places she needed to go today, visualizing her route for optimum execution. They were a week into the new school year and she was still perfecting her routine. Doctor’s appointment at nine. Groceries. Birthday gift for Gracie’s friend— “Mom, why is that bird sitting on a wire?” Jack asked. “What bird?” Gracie asked. “Mom!” Jerked out of her thoughts, Abby glanced in her rearview mirror at Jack. “I don’t know, honey.”

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“What bird? I want to see the bird,” Gracie whined. “It’s gone, baby. We passed it.” “But, Mom, why is—” “Because he likes it up there.” “Oh,” Jack said and turned his face to the window for something else to ask about. “Mommy,” Gracie said, “when is Matt tumming?” “What?” Abby almost missed the turn for school. Gracie repeated the question as if Abby hadn’t heard her clearly. Abby pulled in and put the car into park, then took a second to gather her thoughts before facing her daughter. “Gracie, Matt is not coming to visit us. He was just our friend when we were on vacation.” “He said he would come for my birfday in two thirty days.” “Honey, your birthday is in April.”

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“Yeah,” she said, as if it all made sense. “When did Matt tell you he was coming? When we were at the beach?” “Yes.” “Gracie, look at me. Did Matt say to you ‘I will come for your birthday’?” Gracie fiddled with the edges of her My Little Pony backpack. Abby held her breath, waiting on the answer, hating the feelings running through her at the thought of seeing him. The ones that clung to the memory of his kiss, his voice, the way he’d held her hand. But Matt wasn’t coming and he wouldn’t have told her daughter that. He wasn’t that cruel. “Look at Mommy. It’s important to tell me exactly what he said.” Annie, Charlie, and Jack looked on silently.

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“Gracie, did you ask him to come?” That would be just like her. “Gracie? Exact words.” “I said would you come to my house and play wiff me, and he said that would be fun.” “And?” “And he asked what would we pway, and I said dolls, and he waughed and said he didn’t know how to pway dolls, and I said I would teach him, and he said okay.” Gracie finished with a matter-of-fact smile like she had just explained everything. Relief didn’t begin to cover what Abby felt. Because somewhere deep down, where she didn’t want to go, disappointment lurked. Annie checked her watch. Like everything else, she took school extremely seriously. “Mom, we need to go.” “Okay. Gracie, honey, please remember you can’t say a person said something they didn’t really say.”

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Gracie’s brown eyes filled and her voice wobbled. “But he did say it.” “Oh, baby.” Abby got out and came around to Gracie’s door. “Come here, my sweet girl.” She unbuckled Gracie’s car seat. “I’m sure Matt would love to play with you if he could. But you will still have a wonderful birthday, and I will play dolls with you.” She kissed Gracie’s neck, tickling her until she got a giggle. “Come on, guys.” Annie and Jack went off to their rooms, and she walked Charlie and Gracie to the preschool. She was almost out the front door when she heard her name. Dr. Stafford approached, looking especially GQ in a light tan suit, pale pink shirt, and loafers. “Miss Davis, good morning.” “Good morning, Dr. Stafford.”

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“Please call me William. I wondered if I might have a word.” Shoot. Charlie only went to school two days a week, but she stopped and forced a friendly smile. “Of course. I hope no one’s in trouble already.” “Oh no, nothing like that. I thought we might continue our conversation from registration.” “Okay.” The word strung out in her mind. Had they had a conversation at registration? “Would you like to come into my office? I think you’d be more comfortable.” He gestured toward the door, and she felt his hand graze her lower back as she passed. It was just barely, but it felt weird. And wrong. Because it wasn’t Matt? Newsflash: It was never going to be Matt. “Miss Davis, have a seat.” Abby sat perched on the edge of a red leather chair. The walls were also a deep red

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and graced with oil paintings of past headmasters and headmistresses. She had the urge to correct the “Miss,” but that felt wrong too. William Stafford stood in front of her, leaning against his desk instead of sitting behind it. “Well, I’ve been thinking about your offer to serve the school and I have the perfect job for you.” He paused, smiling like he expected an enthusiastic thank you. She waited for him to continue. “The board is looking for a new fund-raiser that would involve the children in a unique way. They’ve asked me to brainstorm ideas in which I think the lower school could participate alongside the upper-school students.” “Sounds like a great idea.” “I think so too, and I thought you would be the perfect person to help me.” Not at all sure why, but…“Okay.”

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“It wouldn’t be a time-consuming job, or long-term, unless you wanted to serve on the committee, and certainly not labor intensive. I think it’s perfect,” he added with a satisfied smile. “Okay,” Abby repeated, standing. “Let me think about it. When does the board want your ideas?” “In the next few weeks. They’d like to have something to take to the October general meeting.” He walked her to the door, his hand grazing her back again. “Maybe we could both think on it, then put our heads together. Over lunch perhaps?” “I’ll let you know.” Abby left his office, thinking about the request and why his touch bothered her so much. Working on the project would be a way to give back, and it certainly sounded like a worthy cause. Involving the children was a great idea for the annual campaign. Not that she had a huge amount of extra

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time on her hands, but beating the volunteer Nazis had a certain appeal. As did staying busy until she forgot the man she wished were touching her. — The Black Hawk sped silently over the Afghan mountain range. Almost go time. Matt thought of Abby, then tried not to. He met the eyes of each of his teammates, a silent message passing between them. Get in. Get the package. Get out. And I hope to God I see you back on this chopper. The plan: Fast-rope in above the sparse tree line and move silently into a valley shielding the cinder-block building that held the prisoners. Decker would blow a hole in the wall. He and Chappers would locate while the rest of the team provided cover. Then extract and all return to the LZ for their ride. They’d gone over the op enough times to run it in their sleep, planned for every

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contingency possible, but Murphy and his law were a bitch. After a quick meeting of the minds, each man checked and double-checked his gear and that of the man beside him. If they succeeded, two UN peacekeepers, who’d survived a deadly blast only to be snatched by the enemy, would go home. If they failed? Then they were never here, and their families would be told they died on a training mission in an undisclosed location. Unseen. Unheard. In and out. Fifty-four minutes. Each man set the time on his tactical watch, stood, and readied for the exit. Matt felt the vibration and wrapped his gloved hands around the familiar black rope. Last one out sucks balls. Teddy’s exit motto echoed in his mind as he slipped soundlessly into the night. Fifty-three minutes later Matt checked his watch. Every man was accounted for and

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back on the helo with four seconds to spare. Like a well-oiled machine. The adrenaline high ebbed as they flew through the night. They talked sh*t and let off steam. Scout, the team medic, tended to the rescued prisoners. With the UN hostages liberated and safely delivered to the nearest base for treatment, Matt and his team began the journey to their own base at Little Creek, Virginia. The entire op may have taken less than two hours, but getting transport back to base took as long as it took. Usually by touchdown in Virginia he was on his fiftieth mental run-through of the op in preparation for the sh*tload of paperwork that fell to him as senior chief operator. But he hadn’t had a single thought in the past twelve hours that didn’t revolve around Abby. He didn’t particularly like this feeling of not being in control.

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He unloaded his gear, putting a bit too much feeling into it. “What’s up, Chief?” Decker asked. He hadn’t talked to Abby in almost two weeks, that’s what. And he’d told her he’d call, which had been purely idiotic. He never knew where or when he was going to be—exactly why he didn’t have relationships, why he didn’t make plans to call or anything else. Yet the words had tumbled out before he could stop them, so unwilling he’d been to let go of their bond. “Looks like you’re thinking mighty hard,” Decker said, walking past him. “Not to mention Uncle Sam’s toys you’re slamming to hell.” “Yeah. I’m good.” Maybe it was just worry, a general concern, since he’d looked after her and the kids all week. Possibly he needed closure, reassurance they were safe and sound and all was well.

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“Hey, Chief, anyone ever been scrubbed for passing gas?” Matt looked up at Corey Chapman—Chappers—a young, good-natured kid from Louisiana. “ ’Cause I swear that dude’s ass bubbles are gonna get me killed one day.” He gestured to Rocky, who flipped him off without turning around. “See.” Chappers pointed. “He knew I was talking about him without even looking.” Matt laughed as the guys lobbed insults like brothers. “What’s the deal, Mount McKinney?” Rocky shouted across the room. “Nobody climbed your mountain in a while?” Matt smiled at the name. It’d originated because of his climbing skills, but it didn’t take long for the guys to throw a sexual spin on it. Women liked him and he’d enjoyed many over the years. Thus the nickname.

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Decker grinned. “What happened at the beach, McKinney? You losing your touch?” Corey picked up his bag. “He’s old as Methuselah. That’s his problem.” “Everybody’s old compared to you, dickwad,” Decker said. “Do you even shave?” “We working on the house tomorrow?” Corey asked. The guys might throw insults like grenades, but when they had downtime they always migrated back together. Usually at Matt’s, though the location changed; his place was always nearly uninhabitable. He had a small refrigerator, a mattress, and a flat-screen TV. That’s all he moved from house to house. Maybe that’s why. They drank, watched sports, and, if they were lucky, got to knock out a wall. “I’m not sure,” Matt answered. He was scheduled for a few days leave, days he rarely took. He envisioned Abby and the kids. Tried to picture where she lived, the house, the

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area. He had an intense need to know, and his brother had planes and pilots at his disposal. Rocky opened and took stock of his gear locker. “What about it, McKinney? You holding out on us?” “Not cool,” Chappers said, doing the same. “We were crawling through swamp sh*t while you were sipping girlie drinks.” Parker sidled up close. “Hey, uh, Chief. Everything okay? You’re not having any…you know…”—he looked pointedly at Matt’s pants—“problems are you?” Matt figured he was joking, though with Parker it was hard to tell. He clapped a hand on the big man’s shoulder. “No, man. I’m all good in that department.” But he was an idiot. To think he could just walk away from her cold.

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He needed to see her. For a day, an hour—just to convince him she was okay. Rolling the idea around in his head, it was suddenly inconceivable he would never see her again. “So, what’s up? Don’t leave us hanging,” Rocky said. It was close to 0100. He’d have to wait to call her tomorrow, or he could shoot her a text. Not give her a chance to say no. “You guys can hang at the house if you want. I’ve got somewhere I have to be.” Matt walked out to the sound of whistles and kissy sounds and basically all manner of middle school taunting. He smiled as he left, at their brand of humor and at the thought of seeing Abby. — Abby sat at the kitchen table, looking at the pile she’d just unloaded from the kids’

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backpacks. The amount of papers that came home with four children was inconceivable. Jack stood by her chair. “Mom?” “One minute.” She read over the field trip form, muttering to herself. “But, Mom, I have to tell you something.” “Okay.” She grabbed a pen and began filling out the form. “Get a snack if you want.” “Mom?” “Hmm? Sack lunch, kids wear jeans, no soda. Jack inched closer to her and fiddled with the fabric of her shirt. “I did something.” Abby stopped what she was writing and looked at her son. Jack looked out the window as he spoke. “Well, see…” Uh-oh. What was that look? “Jack. What did you do?” “I found your phone.”

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Her phone had been missing for two days. She’d checked all the usual places—the couch, the car, Gracie’s favorite pink purse. The only place she hadn’t looked was the playroom, and she’d cringed at the thought of her phone lost in that toy jungle. “That’s great, sweetie. Where was it?” “In the LEGOs.” Nope. Never would have found it. “Thank you.” She put her arm around his waist and hugged him tightly. He was getting so big. “Would you be a big help and plug it in for me?” Abby went back to the form. “Okay, I will, but…I kinda used it. I know I’m not supposed to, but…” Emergency contacts. She didn’t mind putting Meredith, but having to write “Babysitter” next to “Relationship to child” was—Wait. She turned back to Jack. “You did what?” “I texted someone.”

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Great. She was going to get a text from some weirdo. “You know you’re not supposed to play with my phone. It’s dangerous to talk to people you don’t know.” “But I did know him.” “What? Who did you know?” Jack looked down at his feet. “Matt.” The pen fell from her fingers and clattered to the floor. Jack’s head jerked up. “He did it first.” Oh, Lord. It’d been twelve days, not that she was counting. “What did he say?” Jack’s face brightened a little. “I can show you.” He pulled out her phone, which he’d been hiding behind his back. Abby scrolled through the messages and there it was. Sent at almost two a.m. This morning. Matt: I need to see you, OK? Matt: OK?

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Holy hell. Good thing she was sitting down. And he hadn’t said “I want to see you.” He needed to see her. What did that even mean? “I couldn’t read all of it, but Matt said okay, so I said okay back. See?” Jack smiled proudly as she read her son’s response. Abby: OK Yes. She did see: Jack’s confidence that he’d done the right thing, and the next text from Matt. Matt: See you Friday. That’s…today.

Chapter 16 Matt paced the blacktop, waiting on Tony’s mechanic to finish his preflight check. The skinny man held a clipboard as he inspected the outside of his brother’s new Diamond Twin Star airplane. Every now and then Chaz the spaz bobbed his head to the beat playing through his earbuds. The man looked all kinds of incompetent, but his brother trusted him, so he’d trust him. To get me back where I need to be. He hadn’t heard her voice in almost two weeks, but a text was something. He was glad no one had been around to see his fistpumping Thank you, Jesus happy dance when he’d gotten her reply. Just a simple “OK.” So like Abby, because she probably didn’t know what to say. Either that or she’d list all the reasons he shouldn’t

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come. His text hadn’t been time specific regarding his arrival, so he pulled out his phone and tapped her name. The one he’d programmed into his phone before leaving the beach. He was so screwed, and he stood there, grinning like a fool. “Hello?” “Hey.” “Hey,” she said. “It’s Matt.” Idiot. “I know.” “I just wanted to give you a better idea of when I’d be there. I’ll be leaving here in about fifteen. Should be to your house by five.” The other end of the phone was still and quiet. “Abby?” “I’m here.” “You still okay with me coming?” Please don’t say no.

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“Matt…um…the text you got…It wasn’t from me.” The happy feeling in his chest turned to tar. “It was from Jack.” A black sludge slid toward his stomach. He heard her breathing, pictured her face. He needed to see it. Touch it. “I lost my phone, and…Well, Jack just told me he found it, and that…you…uh—” “I don’t have to come. Just tell me what you want me to do.” “It’s not that I don’t want to see you. I just…I…” He imagined her flustered, probably biting down on her delectable lip. The pink little mouth he was dreaming of kissing…“Just say it. Do you want me to come, yes or no?” The seconds were marked by the heavy beat of his heart as he waited. The plane

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engine started with a loud whine. sh*t. Did she say yes or no? “What?” “Yes! I want you to come, okay?” She’d screamed her answer into his ear, and he wasn’t sure but she didn’t exactly sound happy about that. He laughed. “I’ll be there soon.” She didn’t want to want him. He was about to change that. — Matt double-checked his directions and made a right on a tree-lined street. Oaks and maples, so dense he couldn’t get a good look, secluded the houses set far back from the street. He matched the number on the mailbox and followed a winding drive through overhanging foliage until a large gray brick house came into view. Massive cedar beams framed the front door, and he couldn’t help admiring the architecture. It suited her.

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He pulled the black Lexus rental to the top of the circular driveway and got out. Heart pounding, he climbed the wide stone steps to the front entry accented with the same gray stone. The big house she’d have happily given up to feel loved. He blew out a long breath like he was seconds from a jump. Over water. At night. Another deep breath and he raised his hand to knock. But before his knuckles hit the wood, the big door swung open. And there she was. Even more beautiful than he remembered. Her face sweeter, her eyes greener. She blinked and gave him that shy, sexy smile that had grabbed him by the heart that very first day. She wore a short, flowing skirt with a black tank top outlining every curve of her breasts and belly. He could barely breathe. This was not a reunion of beach-fling lovers. They’d never been lovers, and it was more than a fling. Much more.

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He’d waited two weeks and all he could think to say was “Hey.” “Hi.” She opened the door fully and stepped back. “Do you want to come in? The kids are outside playing.” As he walked behind her through the house, a smile spread. Abby’s house. The decor reflected the woman, her taste and her talents. Nice but not flashy. Neat and organized without being stuffy, a place kids could play without worrying about breaking things. Abby had never struck him as a woman who asked for a lot. The kids’ framed artwork decorated the walls interspersed with candid photographs. It was another level of intimacy, being in her house. Seeing her private things. Her life away from vacation. And he remembered her saying she would have given it all up. It hurt to think she’d been lonely.

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“Something smells good.” Something other than Abby, though she smelled plenty sweet. “The girls made you some brownies. Though I wouldn’t recommend the ones with tiny finger holes filled with sprinkles.” “No?” “No. I can’t vouch for the ones after Charlie got involved.” There was a smile in her voice, then, hesitantly, it spread to her lips and he fell for her all over again. Just that fast. Just that easy. “They’ve asked me a million times when you would be here.” She moved to call the kids, but there was one thing he wanted her to know first. “Abby.” He stopped her with a light hand on her arm and couldn’t keep himself from sliding his fingers over her soft skin just a little bit. “This can be whatever you want it to be. I have a hotel room. I don’t even have to stay for dinner if you’re not comfortable.”

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He felt the tension ease out of her, which is what he’d wanted. “Come on. The kids are dying to see you.” — Whatever she wanted it to be? She followed him outside, thinking she didn’t know what she wanted it to be. That one touch on her arm brought back the memory of every one before it. Blue jeans hugged his powerful legs, perfect butt. White shirtsleeves set off the heavily muscled arms that had wrapped around her. That she wanted wrapped around her again. Had she really wanted to forget him? Had she really thought she could? He looked the same, but so much better. It was all she could think as she watched him with the kids. Hugs and tackles ensued, a reunion of epic proportion.

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“Now you’ve done it.” Matt caught Jack in a headlock, rubbing his head with his knuckles. “I’m going to be a soldier like you,” Jack said, spinning out of his grasp. “Do you think I’d be good?” “You have to go to school first, then lots of training. But yes.” He cuffed Jack’s ear and followed with a loving pat. “I think you’d be very good.” Matt’s eyes slid past Jack to hers. Had she imagined a shadow crossing his face at the mention of “soldier”? “I’ve already been practicing,” Jack said. “See?” And he let loose with his best karate kick. Matt’s eyes were still on hers when Jack’s foot made contact with his crotch, and he went down in a heap, both hands cupped tightly between his legs.

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He rolled from his side to his back, breathing through clenched teeth. “Matt?” She knelt beside him in the grass. “It worked!” Jack shouted triumphantly. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?” Abby asked. “No. I’m…Just…give me a…minute.” The kids crowded around with a mix of curiosity, sympathy, and pride. Gracie’s concern manifested in twenty questions aimed at the patient. “Are you okay? What did you hurt? Are you going to be sick? If you are, don’t puke on the carpet.” Abby cradled his head in her lap. “He’s not sick, honey.” Annie returned with ice balled up in a paper towel. Uh…not going to help. “Sorry, Matt,” Jack said, sounding only slightly repentant. “But that was a good kick, wasn’t it?”

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“Very good,” Matt said, his breathing slow and deep. Abby continued running her fingers through his dark, cool hair, just like she did to Jack and Charlie. She wanted to hold him, ease him, for all the times she hadn’t been there. Couldn’t be there. “Mommy,” Gracie said, concerned. “Maybe you should kiss his boo-boo.” Matt’s eyes flew open and her face went hot. “A kiss would be nice.” “I, uh…I better not. I mean…I better check on the food.” She left him to recover, trying not to think about kissing his…anything. When they’d both recovered, Matt grilled the meat and vegetables she’d prepared and they ate outside on the patio. They fell into the same easy rhythm, cutting food and catching spills. The kids bombarded him with questions and details of every day since they’d parted. It reminded her of their last

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dinner at the beach, except this time, other than the kids, they were alone. And the kids would be going to bed soon. Afterward, they cleared the table and cleaned the kitchen like they’d done it a hundred times, scooting around each other, bumping elbows. Any misgivings she’d had about him being different or her feeling off at having a man in her house blew right out the screen door. Their vibe was the same, only better. Stronger. That should’ve scared her to death, but when he leaned back against the counter and snapped her butt with a dishrag, being afraid was the last thing on her mind. She laughed and flicked soapsuds at him. He flicked some back, then wiped at the bubbles on her nose. “I’m glad I’m here,” he said. Thoughtful brown eyes reached out to her as he trailed his hands down her arms until he linked their fingers.

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“Me too,” she said, unable to lie. Because with a touch or a look, Matt dissolved all her defenses. She was heading straight into his arms when Jack came screaming through the kitchen. “Matt, come to my room!” Matt brought her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. It was barely a touch, but it felt like a promise. Maybe of what was to come. “Matt, come on. You gotta see some stuff.” With Matt on his home turf, Jack was on a mission to squeeze in as much show-and-tell with him as he possibly could. Charlie raised his arms to Matt to be picked up. He’d already learned the man would never turn him down. “Go ahead. Go see stuff,” she told him with a grin. “I’ll finish up.” Passing the screen door, he paused to call Annie in to join them. Abby watched her

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daughter slowly abandon her swing and walk to the door he held open. “Come on, princess. You can show me the way.” Annie started up the stairs. It was painfully obvious she wanted to be with Matt, but no way would she ask for attention like her siblings. Abby’s oldest daughter was too much like her. Abby finished loading the dishwasher and dried her hands on a towel. The one Matt had popped her with. When he was gone, she’d picture him here. Everywhere he’d stood, everything he’d touched, would now hold a new memory for her. Did that have to be such a bad thing? She followed the noise upstairs and stood outside the playroom, listening to the voices inside. As she peeked around the corner, she had to stifle a laugh. Gracie had Matt draped in scraps of silk and was none too gently pressing a plastic crown onto his head.

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Matt added to his block tower next to Jack’s as he stiff-armed Charlie’s ramming bull impersonation. Even dripping pink and purple silk, Matt exuded masculinity and power. She wanted these kids in bed. Now. — “Or this one.” Gracie moved from animal to animal, trying to make the ultimate decision on which lucky stuffed friend would watch the movie with her. She had it narrowed down to five. “Maybe they could all come,” Matt suggested, taking in the girlie space that glittered and sparkled so much he didn’t know how they slept. “Nope. Mommy says only one.” Right on cue, a voice reached them from the other room. “Gracie, pick one and let’s go.”

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He smiled at Abby’s mother radar as he turned away from Gracie while she deliberated, speaking earnestly to each candidate. Annie watched him from her neighboring bed. “Hey, princess. Did you pick a friend to watch the movie?” She didn’t answer, just held up her worn brown bunny. He’d been attacked by each kid upon arrival. All except Annie. She’d stayed on her swing, waiting for him to come to her. Not one to show her feelings, not ready to commit, she’d greeted him with a guarded half smile. Cautious and wary. So like her mother. “Okay,” Gracie said, holding a blue and gray elephant. “I’m weady.” Abby put in the movie and they sat on a large couch in front of a big-screen TV. Charlie snuggled in his lap and Jack pressed against his side. Annie went to the other end by her mom as Matt pulled Gracie onto his

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lap too, before she could insert herself between him and Abby. The movie played, and just like at the beach, he was centered. Like everything he’d been made for was right there on that couch. With his arm around Abby, he made lazy circles on her shoulders. Their feet rested side by side on an oversize ottoman—his big, hers small. If he’d ever questioned his coming here, he didn’t now. Sitting this close to Abby was sweet torture, a true test of patience and endurance. He looked at his watch. This movie ran eighty-seven minutes. And he was counting.

Chapter 17 Abby jumped at the sound of Matt’s footsteps behind her. She stood facing the kitchen island, opening a beer for him, and he placed both hands on the counter, locking her in. When he lowered his head so that the side of his face pressed lightly against hers, her eyes fell closed and it was all she could do to breathe. He relieved her of the silver bottle opener, took a sip of beer, then slid both away, shifting his attention to her. He pushed her hair aside, exposing her neck, nuzzled her ear, and placed a kiss just below it. “Are you still glad I came?” Warm lips met her racing pulse, causing her answered yes to come out on a breathless sigh. Matt was all around her, like their last night at the beach, only this time infinitely

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better. His mouth was on her body and they weren’t minutes from saying goodbye. A sexual awareness she’d never experienced prompted words she’d never voiced. “Don’t stop.” He didn’t, and her head dropped back against his chest. Warm tingles scattered over her skin as he continued the assault on her neck. Arousal and hunger built and tugged. Needing to touch him, she turned in his arms, and before she could think, his mouth covered hers. He angled, cupped the back of her head, and held her firmly, taking complete control of the kiss. With his other hand on her back, he pulled her closer. She craved him. To touch him and be touched. She placed her hands on the counter behind her and Matt lifted her to sit, then stepped between her legs. Their eyes met and a million words passed between them before she raked her fingers through his hair and pulled, guiding him until their

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mouths came together again. And still it wasn’t enough. Her heart raced, her blood pulsed. The taste of beer on his tongue and the faint smell of aftershave made her head swim. Never in her life had she kissed or been kissed like this. But that wouldn’t have been possible because it wouldn’t have been Matt. His mouth blazed a moist trail across her cheek, down her neck, and she felt a hot rush at her core. This was everything she’d dreamed about since that last night outside her condo. If she lay back, she’d feel him, hard, and exactly where she needed. His heavy palm grazed slowly up her side, and she dug her heels into his legs, wanting more. He came back to her mouth at the same time his skilled fingers found her breast. Then cupping her through the lace, he plucked and pulled until she was trembling in his arms.

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When his hand left, she almost cried out in protest, until she felt those same hot fingers slipping under the edge of her skirt, skimming their way up her thigh. He stopped just shy of his destination, his fingertips pressing into her skin, driving her mad. — Matt forced his hand to halt, buried his face in her neck and breathed her in. One hand tangled in her hair, the other a breath from her hot center. He’d imagined a thousand times how it would be with her wild in his arms. Dreamed of touching her and her touching him, but nothing could have prepared him for the fire between them. Desperate and explosive. Her skin tasted like heaven. The sounds she made, her heels digging into the backs of his legs, pulling him closer to her and closer to the edge. He hadn’t seen her in two weeks, had only been here a few hours, and he

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wasn’t about to take her on the island in one swift move. “Abby.” With each ragged breath, he brought in more of her scent. He had to slow down. “I didn’t come here for this. I swear.” He raised his face to find her cheeks flushed, her eyes unfocused. He couldn’t resist kissing her again. And again, in an attempt to gradually damp down the heat. He set her back on her feet, but he still couldn’t bring himself to completely let her go. Hard as it was, hard as he was, he’d done the right thing by calling a halt. He wanted everything about this, whatever this was, to be perfect. As if to torture him, she feathered her lips up his neck, his chin, played at the edge of his mouth. She was killing him. He eased her back and rested his forehead against hers. “I should go.”

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But his hands continued their caress, from her bottom, up her back, to under her hair. “Abby. I should really go.” He forced himself to take her hand and walk to the front door. Pausing in the open doorway, he kissed her forehead. No way could he start on that mouth again. “I can be back early.” “Okay.” He held her chin between his thumb and forefinger, getting in one last look before leaving her. He did not want to leave her. He’d reached the bottom step— “Matt?” Damn. He didn’t know how many times he could walk away, but he looked back over his shoulder and…She was ethereal, standing there under the porch light. He almost didn’t care what was right or best. “Um…” She bit her bottom lip. “Do you have to go to the hotel?”

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Matt slowly made his way back up the steps and stopped in front of her. Please God, let her be asking me to stay. “I mean…it’s probably too late to cancel, but…” His eyes caught hers and he didn’t see second thoughts or fear, just want and need and a hot, burning desire that matched his own. “What do you want, Abby?” He needed to hear her say it. He wouldn’t touch her, not until he heard the words. “You. I want you.”

Chapter 18 Matt tried to control his breathing as Abby stepped back, took his hand, and led him down a hallway. She could have led him straight off a cliff and he wouldn’t have noticed. All he saw was the woman in front of him. “Wait here.” She stopped him at a doorway with a hand on his chest, then went farther down the hall to another room and returned in seconds with a baby monitor. He followed her into the guest room, watched her plug it in, then close and lock the door. She locked the f*cking door. She’d barely turned around before he was pulling her back into his arms. He caught her face in his hands, sliding into the hair on either side. Had anything in his life ever felt

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as right as Abby? He swore softly before his mouth came down on hers, kissing her long and hard and deep. She met him with matching intensity as her trembling fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt. They broke apart only long enough to get the damn thing off and he moved to hers, starting at the bottom, pushing it up slowly, feeling his way. Over her rounded stomach, then a dip before revealing black lace. “Lift your arms.” She did and he continued over her head, pausing when he reached her elbows. And he was hit. Bare skin, black lace, arms raised in blatant invitation, looking lightly unsure of herself. His heart stumbled. He flung the shirt aside. With a featherlight touch, he skimmed the back of his hand over her cheek flushed with passion. He continued the slow caress down her neck and over her bare shoulders to her arms. Her skin was petal soft. His eyes locked on her

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full breasts. He rubbed his thumbs over both nipples, drawing a sound from her that echoed straight to his already painful erection. He stroked and teased until she was trembling. Can’t wait. Shaking with need and something more, he lowered his head and took the raised peaks through the lace, pressing the buds between his lips then nipping lightly with his teeth. With a gasp, her hands flew to his shoulders and he soothed the sting with a lick of his tongue. With a finger under each black bra strap, he eased them down until they hung on her arms, until only the clasp in the back stood between the hot skin of her breast and his mouth. Fingers shaking, he finished the task and froze at the sight of her. Almost unable to believe she was standing in front of him right now. Like this. Breasts bare, the tips already hard and red from his attention.

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Desire surged through him, making his head buzz like he was jumping into battle. She was amazing. And she was his. And he knew, without a doubt, he was about to make love for the very first time. He raised shaking hands and covered them, cupping her gently, loving their warmth, testing their weight. Full and soft. He brushed his hands across them, watching her suck in a breath as the hard little peaks grazed his rough palms. Blood pounded in his head, his heart, and much lower. And his heart…He was suddenly overwhelmed. “God, Abby. You’re so beautiful.” He pulled her closer, arching her back, and taking as much as he could, he closed his mouth around her. Her hands slid from his shoulders to grasp the back of his head, asking for more, sending him higher. When he was sure he was going to come before he ever got inside her, he lifted his

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head. Pressed a kiss to her mouth when she reached for him. “I’m not done.” Her eyes fluttered open and she watched him in the dim light as he dropped to his knees in front of her. He took his time pulling the skirt down and off, kissing every newly revealed bit of skin. Beginning at her ankles, his hands took a lazy stroll up her legs. Over her calves, the backs of her knees. She had the toned legs of a runner. Did she run? There was so much he still didn’t know about her. He continued over the backs of satiny thighs, his hands moving higher until he held her bottom. After tonight, there’d be a lot less he didn’t know. The glow of a full moon fell through open drapes, and he looked up at her, naked except for the bit of lace he was about to relieve her of. Her eyes glowed like two green crystals in the half light. Her lips slightly parted, her face a mixture of uncertainty and desire.

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With his hands full of her luscious ass, he leaned in the scant inch separating them and put his mouth to her belly. He closed his eyes and slid his lips back and forth before laying a kiss in the center. She was still small by most standards, but there were changes. “You’re bigger,” he said, placing soft kisses over her stomach. She ran her fingers through his hair, smiling down at him. “Just what every woman wants to hear.” He placed one more lingering kiss. He could stay right here. For the rest of his life, on his knees, gazing up at this woman. Abby steadied herself with her hands on his shoulders as she stepped out of the panties he pulled down. Then he stood and faced a completely naked Abby. It was almost too much, but it would never be enough.

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She slid her hands slowly up his chest. “I don’t have any clothes on.” Her voice was sexy. Seductive. And he was speechless. She looked the same as she had moments earlier, but the knowledge that she was, in fact, truly naked and he would very soon be inside her turned him mute. “Matt.” Her hands contracted over his pecs, moved lower. He covered her hands, seeking to gain one molecule of sanity. “Matt,” she said again, a whisper in the moonlight. “Take off your pants.” He did, and she lay on the bed before him like a feast. He joined her, and kissed her mouth first, then her neck, her shoulders. Between and around each breast, nipping the damp, fragrant skin underneath, loving her with hands and lips until they were both shaking.

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Unable to get enough of her silky skin, her scent, her taste. Her eyes were slightly glazed, her breath raspy. “Matt.” For one terrible second he was afraid she was about to say stop. Her hands fluttered at her breast like she was trying to decide what to do with them, uncomfortable with her body now on display. She stared up at him. “I’ve never…” “If you’re about to tell me you’re a virgin, I’m going to have to call bullsh*t.” She slapped at his shoulder and relaxed a little. “No, I just…You obviously know what you’re doing, and…” He smiled against her neck. “Well, thank you.” “I just don’t want you to be disappointed. I’m very…fertile.” “Well, that’s good, but I don’t think we’re in danger here.”

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Abby opened her eyes to look at him. “I know. I just meant…I haven’t done this a lot. And you…Josh was my first and only—” “And I’m going to be your second.” He covered her mouth with his before he added, and last. No more talking. He would show her what she meant to him. Deep kisses had her moaning again, surrendering to his touch. He left her mouth to explore her neck, sweeping her dark hair aside to lick and taste, knowing he was leaving marks and not caring. He made his way back up, stopping at her ear, biting down gently. Her urgent hands and cries of pleasure gave him encouragement, not that he needed any. He was going to kiss and lick and taste every inch. “Matt, please.”

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Yes. Please. She was ready and he couldn’t wait any longer, shaking with the burning, pulsing anticipation of being inside her. He rose to his knees between her thighs. Holding himself, he circled the opening, finding her slick with arousal. Then inch by inch he pressed inside, working himself into her small body. “Please tell me I’m not hurting you.” “No.” She shook her head and stared up at him with eyes gone dark, lids low and drowsy. “Don’t stop.” Never. He pulled out a fraction, then slid all the way into Abby’s sweet body, joining them, as close to her he could get. “Don’t move.” He needed a minute, to look at her, to feel her. He held himself over her with straight arms on either side of her head. Her fingers gripped his biceps, her body held him deep inside her own, urging him higher, making him hotter. And then he was moving. He

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rocked against her slowly at first, watching the pleasure, clear and pure, on her face. It was like having sex for the first time. The only time. And he never wanted it to end. He pumped harder, faster, until she came with a shocked gasp. Then he followed, losing all thought. Except for one. Being inside her was like coming home. — Abby woke and glanced across the empty bed, for a second forgetting where she was. Guest room. Matt. Hot memories flooded back. Leading him down the hall to this room. Bringing the monitor, locking the door, and then…it was Matt. Just Matt and his hard body, warm mouth, and loving hands. The things he’d done to her body, the way she’d responded. The way he’d touched her, held her, like she was the most precious thing in the world. Her lips curled into a smile.

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The room looked like it had been sprinkled by the laundry fairy. Her shirt, his jeans, her underwear, his boxers. Oh yes. When his pants had come off…Well, wow. He was a gorgeous man. Everywhere. She sat up. His scent permeated the room, like the feel of his skin still tingling her body. No way were the kids still asleep, but the house was quiet. She grabbed her underwear, jeans, and shirt. Changing her mind at the last second, she found his T-shirt instead and inhaled as she pulled it over her head. His scent seeped into her lungs, filled her heart. She slipped on the skirt she’d worn the night before and made her way through the house. The sound of little voices carried from the kitchen, then Matt’s, low and rumbling. When she reached the doorway, her heart swelled at the scene before her. “Okay, the trick is to make a good high throw,” Matt was saying.

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There they were, all five of them seated around the kitchen table. Matt wearing another plain white T-shirt and jeans and in the process of throwing a piece of cereal into the air. The floor was already half covered in cereal that had missed its mark. Jack saw her first and tried to warn Matt, but not before the food went flying. Annie covered a smile but was clearly enjoying Matt’s demonstration. Abby cleared her throat. Matt turned and got a Cheerio right in the eye. “That one doesn’t count,” he told his cohorts around the table. Abby smiled. How could a man be so sexy and so cute? Matt’s eyes found hers. “Nice shirt,” he said, as if remembering where she’d found it and why. His gaze grew hotter as it ran slowly over the T-shirt, down her legs to her bare feet, and back up.

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Oh, Lord. He obviously remembered everything she’d done too. Were his eyes sexier today? “I’ll clean it up,” he said, a tiny smile playing at his mouth. His jaw was covered in a dark shadow, his hair mussed by her fingers, and if they’d been alone… “Um, okay.” She crossed the kitchen to get her coffee before she dragged him back to the bedroom. What had gotten into her? Uh, more like who had gotten into her. She raised her arm to pour, turning her mug right side up just in time to avoid disaster. “Who wants bacon?” The answer was a chorus of “Me.” “Hey.” Matt looked at his audience, feigning offense as he picked up cereal off the floor. “When I offered to cook bacon, everyone said no.”

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“We wanted Mommy to do it,” Gracie said. “Hers is the bestest. And pancakes too.” “Half a cup of coffee, then pancakes. And Charlie needs to get out of his Pull-Up.” “Already taken care of. Right, partner?” Charlie gave Matt a high five from his booster seat. “I had some help.” He touched Annie’s cheek and got a rare grin. It warmed her heart to see Annie opening up to Matt. And, God forbid, loosening up enough to make a mess. But the look on Matt’s face when her daughter smiled, like he’d won the lottery, sent a lightning strike straight to her heart. She went to get something to pull her hair back and returned to find Matt alone at the stove, laying strips of bacon into a pan. He looked so good, standing there in jeans and a chest-hugging T-shirt. Cooking bacon. In her kitchen. Stepping up behind him, she slid her arms around his waist, gave him a little squeeze,

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and pressed a kiss to his back. He covered one of her hands with his as the bacon sizzled and popped. The noise of abandoned cartoons echoed from the other room. She rubbed her cheek against the soft cotton of his shirt and sighed. Maybe this was the happiness Angie had spoken of. “I sent the kids upstairs to get dressed,” he said. “We need to get a move on. Big day at the zoo.” “You sent them to get dressed? Have you seen the outfits Gracie puts together?” She pressed another kiss between his shoulders. “I’ll just go check. Even zoos have standards.” An hour later Abby stood in the kitchen, watching the kids swing in the backyard. “Okay, honey, you ready to go?” Honey. She swallowed against the knot in her throat. It was just a word, but it felt like more on Matt’s lips.

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“Abby?” She turned to face him. “Sorry. What?” “What were you thinking about just now?” Abby looped her arms around his neck. The zoo could wait a few more minutes. Be honest with him. And with yourself. “I was thinking that I’m happy.” And that was the simple truth of it. “Well,” he said, sliding his arms around her waist, “I’m extremely glad for that.” She pulled his head down and kissed him long and deep, taking every advantage of the moment. All confusion and fear aside, when she was in his arms she felt safe.

Chapter 19 Later that night Matt made love to Abby again, learning every luscious curve, every spot that made her burn. Now he watched her sleep with the moonlight falling across her cheeks. He traced a finger along her delicate brow and the edge of her hairline, pushing back dark strands to reveal a cute little ear. He smiled at the memory of his lips there and the sounds she’d made. That had turned out to be a sweet spot for sure. Mesmerized by her satiny skin, he made lazy circles over her bottom and down the back of her thigh, letting the sexy curves of her body guide him. They lay melded together, face-to-face, with the baby nestled between them. The entire scene amazed him. Awed him. Lying with a woman—not inside

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her, but beside her—and feeling so close to her, it was as if their hearts beat together. Matt laid his head next to hers on the pillow and watched the rise and fall of her chest. The baby moved, a tiny push and roll against his stomach, and the air hitched in his lungs. He pulled Abby closer, hoping to feel it again. Abby stirred and stretched, rubbing her nose against his neck. Her hand moved to cup his neck, then across his chest, and lower. Was there anything sweeter than Abby’s hands on his body? Had anything ever felt so right? “Matt?” Her voice whispered over his skin. She rose up on her elbow and he thought she was about to comment on his morning erection, but her expression was serious, somber. Her eyebrows were pinched and furrowed. Not the look he wanted after what they’d done. Was she having second thoughts? Regrets?

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Her eyes bored into his, and she shook her head the tiniest bit, like she was baffled. “Why are you here?” The question coupled with the honest and utter confusion on her face grabbed at his heart and squeezed. Why was he here? Had that bastard of a husband made her that unsure? “I mean it can’t be easy for you to get away. And I doubt you need to travel to get…” Her eyes left his as she continued. “You know.” A smile teased his lips and he couldn’t resist a quick kiss. His sweetheart, who lit up the sheets and burned him from the inside out, couldn’t even say the word. Pressing her head back into the pillow, he held her face in his hands. So damn beautiful. And she had no idea, which made her even more of a puzzle. “I’m here because I couldn’t stay away.” Then he tried to convey the fullness of his

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heart with his lips, his tongue. He angled her head and she opened to him as she always did, giving herself over to the kiss and to him. — The kids had challenged Matt to a pancakeflipping morning, which had gone well, for the most part. Though every evidence of the resulting chaos had been erased, Abby hadn’t stopped cleaning the kitchen since he’d laid his bag by the front door. He’d never had a woman avoid him the morning after. That had been his role. Lord knew he wasn’t one to stick around for uncomfortable conversations with the opposite sex. Though that was changing. Abby was a new battlefield turning him into a desperate man. Matt didn’t blame her for the hard shell around her heart. Someone as sweet as her needed it. Just not with him.

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Or maybe she did. She moved her attentions to the stainlesssteel sink. Head down. Hair shielding her face. He leaned against the counter next to her. “Abby?” “Hmm?” “I have to go.” She scrubbed harder. “Can you look at me?” “I’d rather not.” Damn it. “Are you mad?” “For what?” For coming? For leaving? He let out a deep sigh. “Hell, I don’t know.” “Of course I’m not mad.” She threw him a quick smile, her eyes not coming close to meeting his. “I’m glad you came.”

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They’d made love like he was sure no one had ever done in the history of time and she was glad he came? “Abby.” He took her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him. “What? People leave. It’s fine. I’m fine. I tell Angie that all the time.” She shook her head. “She never listens.” Matt smoothed his thumb over the bottom lip she was worrying between her teeth. She needed to work on her poker face. Her eyes gave her away every time. So damn wary and so determined not to cry. A scared rabbit, terrified of letting anyone too close. Her own reservations sent her running for cover when things got too intense between them, but he wasn’t going to let her hide. He’d said maybe twenty words in all his morning-afters combined, and now he wanted to make a f*cking speech. But what could he say?

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I couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss and had to touch you again? I came here so I could go back to my job and hopefully not think about you so much? That idea had backfired in a major way. And it’d been a lie from the start. He’d come because he wanted to see her. Period. Being with her, making love to her, was like nothing he’d ever known, nothing he’d even thought existed, and now he had no idea what to say. What the hell did he say to a woman who’d been left all her life when all he did was leave? So, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, long and deep, and said the only thing he could. The only thing he was sure of. “I’m coming back.”

Chapter 20 “Hi, Abby.” William Stafford met her at the door of an upscale restaurant in downtown Raleigh. “You look lovely,” he said. “Thank you.” They followed the hostess, sat, and ordered drinks. “I’m glad you could make it.” Abby hesitated to say she was also glad. The truth was she wasn’t exactly sure why she’d accepted his invitation. “I’m not sure how much I can help, but I’m happy to try.” They made small talk, William asking all the socially polite questions—where was she from, where did she go to school. It was all very nice and safe, and she couldn’t help but compare him to Matt. There was nothing hard about William. Fingers perfectly

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manicured, his eyes a soft gray, watching her attentively from across the table. William definitely didn’t have that I-couldjump-up-at-any-second-and-save-the-world look about him. She sipped her iced tea and listened to his answers to the same questions. She’d only talked to Matt a handful of times since he’d left. When she did, it was short. Hey, how are you? How are the kids? He always sounded busy. His words replayed again and again. I’m coming back. They made her nervous and excited and anxious and scared. Just like the man. And they put her exactly where she’d sworn she’d never be again: waiting for and wanting someone. She hadn’t returned his call from a couple of days ago, and she couldn’t really say why. Probably because you’re a coward. She’d picked up the phone a hundred times, but…the more she ached to hear his voice,

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the more she fought the urge. He hadn’t called again. When William Stafford asked her to lunch to discuss the school project, she accepted. She wouldn’t let the volunteer Nazis squeeze her out, and any minute she was thinking about something else was a minute she wasn’t thinking about Matt. And then Matt was the only person she could think about. Breakfast and dinner, hot kisses and hotter sex. Matt’s rough hands sliding over her body. The cold tea in her mouth went down the wrong pipe and she choked until her eyes teared. Yikes. She recovered from the choking and the embarrassment, and William did everything he could to make her feel at ease, but somehow she just didn’t. When was the last time she’d eaten with a grown-up? Aside from Matt, she couldn’t remember. Would she measure every experience against those she’d had or hadn’t had with Matt?

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William pulled her mind back to the here and now, and they discussed her ideas for the school. One was an art show, inviting alumni to bid on art created by students of all ages. Professionally framed pieces supporters would be proud to hang in their homes. Lunch ended and William walked her through the restaurant to the door. Abby did a quick side step to avoid his hand at her back, tripped, and caught her hip bone hard on the corner of an empty table. Ouch. She sucked in a breath, covering the injury with her hands. “Oh dear, Abby. Are you all right?” William’s hands were on her arms and his eyes on her belly, visibly concerned. “Is it the baby?” “I’m fine.” “Did you hurt yourself? Should I take you to the doctor?” “No, really. I’m fine. Just a little clumsy.”

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It took a while to convince him she was indeed fine, and all the way to her car he asked her repeatedly if she needed to see a doctor. William was a nice man, even if she’d never be interested. If it had been Matt…she’d trip a thousand times to be back in his arms. To kiss him. To taste the skin of his neck and run her hands over his back. To have his hands on her body. He’d awakened something inside her and now that he was gone, she wasn’t completely sure that was a good thing. — Matt sat at his parents’ table, ready to enjoy his mother’s cooking, but missing Abby so much he ached. So much that a couple of the guys had caught him staring at her picture on his phone. Not that he cared. He wasn’t hiding it, though he didn’t appreciate their repeated requests for another look.

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He’d talked to her as much as he could, which hadn’t been much. As soon as he’d retuned from Raleigh, his platoon had left out for ten days of joint special ops training. Communication had been nil. He’d left her a message when he could, but hadn’t heard back. She was putting up walls and he didn’t blame her. Didn’t mean he was going to let her hide behind them. “So, Matt, did you have a good time at the beach?” Lizzy asked. He grabbed a piece of bread, ignoring his sister, hoping she’d move on and use her psychology skills on someone else. “I ran into Barbara at the store,” his mom said. “She mentioned Rob was home Thursday.” Barbara was his mom’s sister and, yeah, he’d gotten a message from Rob. Turned out Brittney was not the one after all. Big surprise.

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Lizzy wasn’t letting it go. “Why didn’t you come home with Rob?” “Well, Nosey Nellie, the condo was available and I was there. Figured I’d use it. What?” His brothers Patrick and Andrew stared at him from across the table. Patrick was just two years younger than him, Andrew two years younger than Patrick. Both were married with children. Stephen, J.T., and himself were the only ones still single. J.T. wasn’t even old enough to drink and Stephen…Three years ago Stephen had come tragically close. “Oh, nothing,” Patrick said. “I just find it interesting that someone who can’t sit still for more than five minutes decides to sit on the beach for a week. Alone.” Matt gave Patrick his best poker face. Beth eyed him suspiciously over a spoonful of mashed potatoes. “You have something to tell us, Matt?”

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“Yes, please. Tell us everything,” Lizzy said dramatically. “You owe us for your general lack of gossip after years of listening to ours. Time to pay up, brother.” Tony stopped eating. “Okay, let’s hear it.” Matt looked up and found all eyes on him. He didn’t know what the hell had possessed him, and he was sure he’d regret it, but he laid his fork down and took a breath. “I met someone. At the beach, and I went to see her last weekend.” They waited, Tony’s hand motioning for him to go on. “She lives in Raleigh.” He paused, then decided to get it all out. “Her husband died six months ago. She has four children.” He started to take a bite, then stopped. “Oh, and she’s pregnant.” His mom sucked up half the air in the room, so he added. “Not mine.” But it could be.

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Jaws dropped around the table, a couple still filled with food, and the room went quiet so fast the walls probably thought they’d gone deaf. Lizzy recovered first—no surprise. “Wow. That makes up for…a lot.” Matt went back to eating, like he’d reported the weather. He’d be assaulted with his family’s version of the Spanish Inquisition in…five, four, three— An explosion of voices and questions erupted. He instantly regretted opening himself up to this. “I don’t even know what to say.” His mother looked baffled. “Where is her husband? Why is she pregnant?” Did she not listen to anything I just said? “All right.” His father sat back, his deep, booming voice overriding all others. “Why don’t you tell us about her, son?”

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Anthony McKinney was a man who commanded respect just by being who he was. He was still Matt’s hero and the type of father he wanted to emulate. The rest of the family sat in silence as Matt spoke primarily to his dad. It wasn’t his usual MO to share details about anything, especially women, but he wouldn’t deny what she was to him, what the kids were. And with that thought, the words just spilled out. “Her name is Abby. She’s sweet and smart and funny.” With eyes that dance and sparkle when she laughs. “Jack is five and can’t catch a football to save his life, but we’re working on it. Gracie’s three. She’s got curls and dimples and can talk me into just about anything.” Even dressing up like a princess. The more he talked, the harder it was to control the smile spreading across his face. “Charlie is two and a half and sticks to me

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like a tick. Annie’s almost seven and most of the time I’m not sure she likes me.” Matt glanced at his mother, took in her less than happy expression. “You move fast,” J.T. said, with irritating smirk. “Evidently so does she.” That last bit was muttered into his glass, but Matt didn’t miss it. “What the hell did you say?” He wanted to jerk the little punk up by his shirt, but J.T. already looked remorseful. His brother stared into his iced tea. “Nothing.” Matt was close to all his siblings, and he loved his youngest brother, but the kid walked around with a growing chip on his shoulder Matt couldn’t figure out. Matt pushed back in his chair. “I need some air.” —

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He stared out at his parents’ backyard, looking hard at the trees on the edge of the property and the small wooden structure. Lots of good times in that fort. Probably what had started his love of building. The screen door creaked open behind him and he glanced back to see Beth, tall and willowy, with the same dark bob she’d had in high school. Tony followed and stood next to him at the deck rail. “What are you thinking?” “That I’d love to show Jack that tree fort. And if you came out here to harass me, you can save it.” “You dropped quite a bomb. Mom’s in there rubbing the rocks out of the granite.” “I thought she’d be happier.” “She misses you. Her feelings are probably just hurt. First you go to the beach, then a weekend in Raleigh. You know Mom. She likes all her ducks close. Doesn’t want some strange woman taking advantage of her baby

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boy. Someone you’ve fallen for that she’s never met.” “Ha.” He understood that his mom missed him and had a hard time with his job, but the thought of Abby taking advantage was laughable. She’d run for cover if he let her. Maybe she already was. Matt didn’t want to fight with his mom, or his youngest brother. “What’s up with J.T.?” Just eleven months apart—Irish twins—he and Tony somewhat shared the role of oldest, but he’d left the brunt of it to Tony for years. “Don’t know. He’s been worse than usual lately. My guess is lady troubles.” “Hmm. Maybe so.” The crickets were starting their nightly noise. “I told the guys at the hangar to start a tab,” he said, referring to his flight on Tony’s plane to Abby’s last weekend. “That’s fine.”

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Beth rocked on the porch swing behind them and Tony joined her. “How far along is she?” “About seven months, little less I think.” “Well, FYI, medically speaking, there are certain sexual positions—” Oh, hell no. Matt held up a hand. “Beth, you know I love you, but there are some things we are not going to talk about. Tony. Please.” He sent his brother a pleading look, but the bastard just grinned. “I talked to you while you were there,” Tony said. “You didn’t say anything.” Because he hadn’t known what to say. “So, you’ve known her what, two or three weeks, and you’re that sure?” Matt nodded into the dark. “She’s…” He shook his head. How did you put into words the moment you found your heart? Like he’d always known her and at the same time been waiting for her his entire life. Laughing green

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eyes, heart-stopping smile. Sings the wrong words to almost every song. And so very scared of letting anyone close. He hadn’t meant for it to happen. Couldn’t have predicted Jack hitting him in the back with that ball. After that, it hadn’t mattered. “She’s everything.” Silence enveloped the three of them, perhaps each thinking what it meant for one person to be your everything. Tony stood and clapped a hand down on his shoulder. “I guess that says it all. So, now the question is what are you going to do about it?” Yes. That was the question. The only thing he knew for sure was he didn’t want to let her go. “I don’t know. I don’t know that I have a choice.” “You always have a choice.” Yeah, but did he have one he could live with?

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Matt said his goodbyes and drove home thinking that his dad had been wrong back at his sister’s wedding. He’d found the right one, but the time still wasn’t right.

Chapter 21 When Abby’s phone rang Thursday night, her first thought was Matt. A warm happy feeling invaded her, but the very next thought ruined it. Because odds were it wasn’t him, and it might never be. In two seconds she went from the heights of happiness to crash and burn. The phone rang again. She couldn’t do this. Roller coasters could be exhilarating and heart pounding and fun…but she didn’t want to ride. “Mommy, it’s Miss Angie.” Jack stood in the doorway to her bedroom holding out her phone. “Okay, honey. Thank you.” She held the phone against her shoulder, fighting the inevitable disappointment. “Hey, girl.”

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“Hey, how’s it going?” Angie asked. “Fine. How’s the Mancini circus?” “Very circus-like. I’m knee-deep in elephant dung. How’s your crew?” “Good, busy. You know.” Abby walked around her bathroom, picking up soapy washcloths and rubber toys from the girls’ bubble bath. “You sound tired.” “I am.” “You sure? Everything okay with the baby? You know, I can come up there for the birth if you need me to.” “No. I absolutely don’t.” It would be a sixhour drive for her friend and Angie had her own family to take of. “I’ve got everything worked out with my sitter. I’ve done this before.” “That’s right. You have.” Abby heard the censure in her friend’s voice. Angie had made it more than clear

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what she thought of her late husband while he was alive. Josh had barely made it to Annie’s birth, then left for Japan the very next day. Abby had taken her day-old baby home in a cab. When Jack came, she’d been prepared. Already had the cabbie’s number in her suitcase. She’d needed it. No, she’d wanted to say, reading the nurse’s looks. No one’s coming. And it’s fine. Except her children had deserved more. They should’ve had two people, if not a hundred, to welcome them into the world. “Maybe Matt could—” “Don’t even say it.” “Okay, but a woman should not have a baby alone.” “Angie—“ “Okay. I’ll drop it. Want to tell me what he’s like in bed?” Abby had to laugh at her friend’s efforts. Of course Angie had weaseled the

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information out of her regarding Matt’s visit. And no way could she lie when Angie had asked Did you do it? “Angie, you know I’m not going to tell you that.” But now she’d be thinking about it. Constantly. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. It might ruin me forever.” It might ruin her. Being with Matt was like nothing she’d ever known. Maybe no one had ever known. “So, when are you going to see him again?” I’m coming back. “Abby?” “I don’t know. He said he was coming back, but…I’m starting to think that it’s not such a good idea.” Even if he came back, she was setting herself up for heartbreak. Because it wouldn’t last, would it? And she’d known from the very first day he could break her.

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Angie made a loud frustrated sound. “You are so lucky I can’t slap you through the phone lines. Are you insane?” Abby concentrated on arranging the shampoo bottles just so. “No.” “You should have heard yourself the first time I talked to you after Matt’s visit. I could practically feel the glow. You were happy. The kids were happy.” That’s right. They had been happy. “I don’t want them getting attached.” “That’s a load of crap if I ever heard it. And from what I saw, those kids were already attached and didn’t seem too concerned about the future. Unless of course that’s what you’re trying to teach them. You know, not to get too happy so they don’t get hurt down the line.” “That’s not it. I’m—” “Are you worried about the kids or yourself?”

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Abby didn’t answer. “Everything in life’s a chance. Nothing is a sure thing. People die, they leave, they change. Joe could go through a midlife crisis next week. He could quit his job, buy a motorcycle, and ride off with a stripper.” Angie laughed and Abby tried to join her but pictured herself reaching for a ball on the water. Straining and stretching, and each time she grazed it with her fingertips it went spinning away. People had spun away from her all her life and she’d learned at an early age that if you reach too far you might fall in. She didn’t want to fall anymore. “You have no choice but to go through life and take whatever comes. Good or bad. You’ve had so much bad, honey. I don’t want to see you run away from something that could be good.” Angie was right. She was afraid to take a chance.

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“I want you to promise me something. Promise me you’ll give Matt a chance. That you won’t push him away just because you’re scared.” Abby held her breath. She didn’t know if she could make that kind of promise. “You of all people shouldn’t be alone.” “I’m not—” “I’m not talking about the kids.” Angie made an exasperated sound. “You’re practically made of love, Abby, and you need someone besides the kids to shower it on.” Abby fought against stinging tears. “That’s kind of deep, Ang.” “Don’t make fun when I’m having a smart moment. Most of my brain cells were fried during childbirth.” Her voice changed to the gentle mother. “You’re soft, Abby. You pretend to be hard, but you’re not. Now, come on. Make your promise so I can go feed my lions.”

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Abby released a long, tired breath. “Okay. Fine. I promise.” She’d have to try that much harder not to get attached herself. They ended the call and she switched into bedtime mode. Pajamas on. Teeth brushed. Story read. The only thing left was prayers. They all knelt down at the side of Jack’s bed. “Okay, Jack. You want to start?” His room, his turn to go first. “Dear God, thank you for everything I like. Thank you for turtles. Thank you for Matt seeing my first football game and for letting me be awesome.” Abby snapped her eyes open. “Jack?” “I’m not done.” “Well, let’s pause a second. Honey, Matt’s not coming to your football game.” “Yes, he is.” “No, baby, he’s not. He has an impor—” Was she really about to say he had an

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important job? How many times had her kids heard that excuse? Jack looked at her, his eyes so full of all the hope and faith and confidence she’d never possessed. “He is. He told me.” “When did he tell you—” “He’s coming to see me too,” Gracie added emphatically. “Jack, when?” She hated the sound of her voice, but she was close to the edge here. Jack’s bottom lip came out. “A long time ago. Right after he came here and left. He called and I talked to him and then you talked to him. He said he would.” “Okay, baby, but people don’t always—” “I hope he doesn’t come,” Annie said, barely above a whisper. Jack lunged across the bed to yell in his sister’s face. “Don’t you say that!” “Matty, Matty, Matty,” Charlie sang, lying on his back kicking the mattress.

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“He is coming!” Jack screamed. “He is because he told me he is.” Annie stood, red faced, tears in her eyes. “He’s never coming back, and I don’t want him to!” She ran to her room. Abby sat there a minute with the three remaining children. Charlie spotted a lost car and crawled under the bed. Gracie brushed her doll’s hair intently. Jack sat looking like she’d crushed his dream. She hadn’t wanted to let him get his hopes up. Annie had taken care of that, effectively bursting Jack’s bubble of happiness before Abby had the chance. “He is coming, Mommy.” Gracie looked up from her doll. “ ’Cause I have to do his hair.” Abby’s nose burned, and she bit her lip. Jack and Gracie were so sure, they had so much faith. Had she ever been like that? Believing people would come back? Or that maybe they wouldn’t leave at all? She couldn’t remember.

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After tucking them in, she went to Annie last. “Why don’t we just wait and see what happens, huh?” Annie didn’t answer. Abby kissed her and pulled up the covers. So much like her, with her perpetually neat braids and buttoned-up feelings. Would they all grow up to be like that? Like herself? Too afraid to reach for more because they were afraid of falling? Did she want them to shy away from people and chances? If Annie closed herself off now, where would she be in twenty years? Jack’s first game is Saturday. Her stomach churned with the feeling of standing at the edge of a cliff. She’d promised Angie she wouldn’t push. She hadn’t promised to reach.

Chapter 22 The peewee football field was alive with activity. Shrill whistles and helmets knocking together mixed with little-girl cheers. All of it—the noise, the excitement, even the smell of the fall morning—took Matt back to his days on the field. A band gripped his chest as he pictured his dad in the stands cheering him on. Jack should have that. He’d barely made it, arriving at Abby’s house only an hour ago, and they’d headed straight to the football field. Matt unbuckled Charlie’s car seat, zipped up his jacket, and tied his left shoe before lifting him from his seat. Abby and Jack stood at the rear of the car, discussing her duty next week as snack mom, which would require a heavy cooler of drinks. Of course it was when he wouldn’t be here.

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Matt came around and buckled Jack’s helmet. “Are you sure you should do that?” “It’s okay,” she told him. “One of the dads on the team will help me.” Yeah. That’s what he was worried about. He’d bet his left nut there were at least two single dads on this team, maybe more. Probably a few just out to volunteer their time, and there were always snakes in the grass looking for something fresh no matter what their family situation. All of them more than happy to take what was his. What he wanted to be his. What he ached to make his. How could he do that if he wasn’t here? He hadn’t known it was possible to miss someone so much. Couldn’t believe she could look better than the last time he’d seen her, that he could possibly want her more, but he did. Abby was hot in maternity jeans, which hugged her legs and bottom, and a fitted blue top that only added to her appeal. Hair pulled back in a ponytail, looking fresh and

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gorgeous. He couldn’t stop himself from bringing her in for a quick kiss. He took her hand as they walked, doing his best to let anyone and everyone know she was unavailable. “Hey, Jack.” A kid in matching gear ran over. A man standing near the field in a group of small boys turned and waved. “That’s the coach,” Jack told him. The other kid smiled, showing off a missing front tooth. “And he’s my dad.” “Let’s go, boys,” the coach yelled. Jack turned to bump knuckles with Matt, and they performed their special handshake flawlessly. During the game, Matt resisted morphing into crazy parent mode when a bigger kid on the other team took Jack down by his face mask. Abby, however, needed a restraint to keep her from heading onto the field.

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“Did you see that? That should have been a penalty!” Matt chuckled at Abby’s enthusiasm for her son and felt a deep swell of pride when Jack popped up after the hard hit. He ran back to the line of scrimmage eager to try again. At halftime, Abby went over to check on Jack. Matt thought about discouraging that but knew his mother would have done the same. Jack would just have to endure a little maternal worry. “Matt, wook at the clouds wif me.” Gracie pointed to the sky. With Charlie still in his arms, Matt knelt beside Annie and Gracie and pointed to a puffy cloud floating by. “That one looks like a squirrel with a nut.” Annie watched the sky. “What about that one?” Gracie asked.

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“Hmm. A bear maybe? What do you think, Annie?” They continued until Abby returned, and he stood, placing his hand at the small of her back. “How’s Jack?” “He’s fine. He said to tell you he’ll keep his head down more.” Matt smiled. “Let’s move toward the other end zone.” They hadn’t taken three steps toward the sideline when a man’s voice stopped them. “Abby. Hello. I hoped I might see you here.” Matt turned at the male voice. “Hi.” Abby seemed reluctant, but she made introductions, then added, “Dr. Stafford is the headmaster of the kids’ school.” “Please, Abby. We’ve talked about this. Call me William.” William, huh? Guy looked hot off the set of Miami Vice. “Nice to meet you, William.”

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Matt took the guy’s soft hand in a firm grip and was rewarded with a satisfying wince. puss*. The guy tried to laugh it off as he pulled his hand away. Matt scanned the field for Jack. “So, Abby, are you sure you’re feeling all right? I’ve been worried.” That got his attention. Mr. Slick looked expectantly at Abby, who stood fidgeting with her shirt, then looked to Matt. “Thought I was going to have to get her to the doctor, but she was adamant she could drive herself.” Matt had no idea what he was talking about. If he clenched his jaw any harder his teeth were going to crack. “I’m fine,” Abby said. “It was nothing.” “Well, she knows I’m here, just in case she needs someone,” William said, beaming a smile of adoration.

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Matt tensed and slid his hand possessively up her back and under her hair, stopping with his hand on her neck. He met William’s eyes. “She has someone.” “Oh sure. I just meant someone here. Where did you say you worked again? Iraq?” “I didn’t. If you’ll excuse us. We’re here to watch Jack.” It was on the tip of his tongue to add my son. — Abby heard the car door close from where she stood in the backyard. The boys were back. After the game Matt had taken Charlie and Jack to run errands—“guy time,” he’d called it. The back patio door opened and closed and Matt strode toward her like a man on a mission. No matter how she’d tried not to, she’d missed him. Exactly the reason she avoided getting close to people. She didn’t

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want to want anyone, but watching him draw closer, she couldn’t be anything but happy. “Hey, how was it?” “Good. Charlie’s asleep. I laid him on the couch. Jack’s in the bathroom.” Glancing around the yard, he reached for her. “The girls?” “Are inside.” The man wasted no time. Cradling her face in his hands, he took her mouth in a kiss so possessive and powerful it stole her breath. She ran her fingers through the hair at the base of his neck, pulling him closer. Kissing him deeper. The breeze whispered through the trees, the grass was cool under her bare feet, while Matt’s warm lips and tongue moved against her own. She leaned into him, falling into the promise of his mouth, letting herself be swept away by the man. Oh yeah, she’d missed him.

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They broke apart and she rested her forehead against his chest, catching her breath. Matt’s hands stroked down her back to her bottom, giving her a squeeze. “God, I’ve waited a long time to do that.” They stood a few seconds, just holding on. When she looked up, the playful glint in his eyes was gone. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?” It took her a second to catch up, then she remembered the comment at the football game. “Because I wasn’t.” “That’s not what Easter Egg said.” She smiled at his reference to William’s clothing style, so very different from his own worn jeans and black polo. Which was incredibly hot. “He was going to drive you to the doctor,” he said, his voice taking on a hard edge.

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“Matt.” She smoothed her hands up his body, feeling the muscle beneath. “I didn’t need anyone to drive me anywhere.” “You didn’t even tell me.” He was upset. She touched his neck with her fingertips in an effort to reassure him. The neck she wanted to kiss. “There was nothing to tell.” Shaking her head slightly, she slipped her arms up around his shoulders. “What could you have done anyway?” Pain flashed across his eyes. She hadn’t meant to hurt him, she was just speaking the truth. “You have no reason to feel guilty. I don’t need you to take care of me.” With her hands on his handsome face, she stretched up to kiss him, but he pulled back. “Jack said you told him I wasn’t coming.” She lowered from her tiptoes and dropped her eyes to his collar. “I didn’t want him to be disappointed.”

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“Neither did I,” Matt said. “Which is why I told him maybe, and only because I was ninety-nine percent sure. I tried to call you about it.” Abby didn’t know what to say. She should have known Matt wouldn’t carelessly set the kids up for disappointment. “Did you think I wouldn’t make it for the game, or did you think I wasn’t coming back at all?” What could she say? He was here, his heart beating under her palm as he waited for her answer. How much should she tell him? How much could he understand? She fiddled with the buttons of his shirt and blew out a shaky breath. Some people didn’t invest their money. She didn’t put stock in people. It felt wrong to expect the worst from Matt, but her childhood fears had blocked out a natural faith in people and replaced it with something else.

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“Abby?” Matt brought her face up with a gentle finger under her chin. She shrugged, guilty. “Bad habit, I guess.” He studied her with eyes that saw everything, seemed to know everything. The kids poured out of the house like a noisy parade, saving her from having to say more. Matt gave her a look that said this conversation wasn’t over and hit her with another quick, searing kiss. Gracie flew across the yard to them. “Matt, wook at me!” The purple shirt and leggings she’d worn to the game were bunched and half hanging out the leg holes of a pink leotard. A straw hat sat on her head and long white gloves covered her arms, only half her fingers in the holes. “Ooh, ladybug. You look gorgeous.” Matt went down on one knee and fingered the clump of plastic beads draped around her neck.

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She beamed and flung herself against him. “Don’t you want to take one thing off before you put on another?” “No, it’s fashion,” she said, climbing onto his knee. Annie approached, wearing a flowing gown and a beaded crown. She didn’t run up to him but stood quietly off to the side, waiting to be noticed. Matt didn’t disappoint. “Well, well. I always knew you were a princess.” Annie looked down at the dress. “It’s Cinderella.” “Nice crown.” He touched the top of his head. “Huh. I must have lost mine. A prince needs a crown too, don’t you think?” Gracie pulled at his hair. “You not a pwince. You a fwog!” Matt never took his eyes from Annie, giving her that single-minded attention he was so good at.

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“What do you think, Annie? You think you could turn this frog into a prince?” Annie considered it with a look of uncertainty. “Ribbitt. Ribbitt,” Matt croaked. Annie’s serious face cracked into a grin, and in one swift move he leapfrogged past her. Gracie squealed wildly. Even Annie was laughing as the three of them went into the house for what Gracie announced was going to be girl time. Abby stared after them. A croaking Navy SEAL, going to play frog and prince with two giggly girls. No. She didn’t want to expect the worst of Matt.

Chapter 23 Matt sat on the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table next to a crushed goldfish cracker. They’d fed, bathed, and put the kids to bed with a tag-team effort, and now the house was quiet, except for the TV. Abby lay beside him in his T-shirt and boxers. Breasts in easy reach, bare legs draped across his lap, and her crotch snug against his thigh. She liked the loose fit. He liked the idea of her wearing his clothes. Pictured her in one of his dress shirts, hanging to her thighs, unbuttoned at the bottom, revealing her pregnant belly. Maybe unbuttoned at the top too. Hot. He wrapped his fingers around her cute little foot, alternately squeezing and rubbing as he sipped a beer and tried to concentrate on football. She was tired and he wanted this

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time with her, just to talk, but the view was very nice. He continued a slow massage of her feet, her ankles, and her cute little toes as they watched Florida trounce LSU. “You know.” She shifted, finding a more comfortable position. “Jack thinks he’s going to be a first-round draft pick.” “He might. He’s a hard worker.” “It didn’t hurt that you told him and everyone else he was the best one out there.” That’s because in his mind Jack had been the best one out there. Her eyes were closed, and she let out a sound between a sigh and moan when he turned his attention to her arch. “I guess you know this already,” he said, “but Annie’s smart as hell.” A smile played across Abby’s incredibly kissable mouth. “Like freakin’ genius smart. You should hear the questions she’s asking me when I’m tucking her in. Ocean currents, the

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moon and tides and magnetism. When I was six I was eating glue.” Abby laughed. “She reads a lot. And you’re pretty smart yourself to have noticed. It took a slew of teachers and psychologists years to figure that out. They called her language delayed, antisocial, even borderline autistic.” Well, that just pissed him off and he blew out a disgusted breath. “Idiots. Maybe there’s a better school.” “No, that’s why she’s at the academy. They tested her and they have a special program. She fits in there. It’s good for the other kids too. Incredible resources and…” Her words trailed off as he pressed his thumbs into her calf, sliding slowly upward. “So, you went to lunch with Pink Shirt.” “How do you—” “I have my ways.”

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“Mmm. You have informants, and all of them are very short. It was just a meeting about school. Something I’m helping with.” He’d bet that wasn’t the only reason William wanted to go to lunch with her. William, who was here. All the time. When Matt wasn’t. Without opening her eyes, she touched his arm. “It was just a friendly lunch.” Right. Men did not want to be just friends with women who looked like Abby. And she was even more beautiful inside than out. The thought of another man getting close enough to know that made him crazy. He continued his ministrations, working his hands up to her knee before returning to circle her heel. She sighed again in satisfaction. “Oh my gosh, you are so good at that. This could be your new career.”

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He leaned down and brought her calf to his lips, needing a taste. What did she think of the career he had? She was everything gentle and good, compared to his deadly skills. He’d never cared what a woman thought. Never wanted a woman to ask him about it. Until Abby. “You never ask about my job,” he said, his eyes intent on her face. “Is it because it bothers you?” She opened her eyes to look at him, and he held his breath. “No, it doesn’t bother me,” she said, bringing his hand to her cheek. “Do you want to tell me? Or do you think I need to know? Because I don’t.” She pressed a kiss into his palm. “I know without a doubt that whatever choices you have to make, you make the right ones.” Matt looked into eyes so green they reminded him of the bottles that lined his grandmother’s windowsill. Green as glass. She didn’t ask specifics. Didn’t care about

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missions or medals or rank. Abby believed in him. Not the job, just him. It was a kind of absolution from his very own angel, only she didn’t know what she was absolving him from. He leaned down to kiss her, then sat back, feeling lighter than he had in years. He combed his fingers through her hair, the dark strands contrasting with the light of her eyes. Her lids grew heavy and fell closed as they always did when he caressed her head. And she was so hot. He continued working her feet and legs, her thighs, sliding his hand up a little farther each time in slow degrees—back to her feet, behind her knee, the inside of her thigh. Her breathing changed along with his. No longer completely relaxed, her chest rose and fell. Her lips parted. After several passes, his fingers slipped under her shorts. He teased them both, taking his time. He played there a while, tracing around the edge of her panties, making her

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squirm. Then finally he brushed across her center with his thumb. Soft and wet. Before he knew what she was doing, Abby grabbed his arm for leverage and swung her feet to the floor. “That’s it.” She clicked off the TV and headed toward the bedroom, moving surprisingly fast for her condition. He happily followed. — Abby flipped off the light to the adjoining bathroom and stepped out, wearing only Matt’s giant shirt. A small table lamp in the corner threw a soft, pale light over the room—enough to see, but not enough to make her self-conscious, though she was feeling unusually bold and hot with desire. Both Matt’s doing. Good Lord, he was beautiful. Completely take-your-breath-away, man-hot beautiful.

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He’d stripped to his boxers. His long legs extended over the end of the bed, his big feet planted on the floor. Arms, thick with muscle, stretched over his head, laying his mouthwatering body out before her. “You going to stare at me all night or come over here?” Just the sound of his voice kicked her need up another notch. She moved to the bed, her eyes glued to his rippling torso. She took a slow, hesitant step. And another as he rid himself of his boxers. She wanted him. He hissed out a sharp breath when she straddled him and realized there was nothing between them where their bodies met. “Abby.” His eyes burned with a sexual heat. She wanted to touch him the way he touched her. Make him feel the way he made her feel. Important and wanted and happier than she’d ever been.

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Starting at the cut of his abs, she slid her palms upward, following the shape and contour of his body. Her fingertips explored the swirling hair of his chest and she paused to spend some time around his nipples. All the while he lay silently, but she felt his breaths increase. She knew his body now, every strong, sleek line of it, and it amazed her still that he was here. Her hands fanned out over defined pecs and smoothed along the backs of his arms. Strength and power vibrated from him. A soldier, a fighter, yet so gentle and controlled he could brush tangles from a three-yearold’s hair. She made her way back down, over his ribs and then his abs. So warm and soft. When she brought her eyes up to his, she found him intently watching her. The look. Moving her hands to the bottom edge of her shirt and holding his hot gaze, she peeled it over her head inch by inch.

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“You’re killing me.” His eyes licked over her body like flames. Down her neck, over her breasts, stopping at the heat between her legs. He groaned and sat up, pressing his hips against her core, then dragged his chocolatebrown eyes back to hers, never wavering. Like now he was looking past her body, seeing deeper. Her hands went naturally around his shoulders and their lips met and held. A million sensations ran through her. Matt’s fingers splayed hot against her lower back. His other hand sliding up her back to her neck, bringing them even closer as he went. She made a small sound of distress and still his mouth didn’t move. Finally he traced her lips with his tongue, gently at first, then forced them apart. Their mouths met and melded with a blinding hunger, loving and tasting for what could

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have been hours. Overcome with hunger and need. They parted, breathless, eyes locked. Abby forced air into her lungs, unable to look away. “What is it, baby?” She couldn’t move. Could barely breathe, his face so close to hers, then even closer when he speared his fingers into the hair at either side of her face. She was captured by him. Lost in him. “I can’t breathe when you look at me like that.” “Like what?” He traced her cheek with his thumb. “Like I love you? Because I do. More than I ever thought possible.” Everything in her dropped. The ground disappeared from beneath her and she was falling through open sky toward something dark and unknown. She opened her mouth but nothing came out.

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“Don’t say anything,” he whispered against her lips. “You don’t have to say anything.” He feathered kisses along her cheek, down her neck. Matt’s arms around me. Not falling. The sensation of him hard between her legs, his mouth on her neck, combined with the words of love murmured in her ear made her dizzy. And so hot she was shaking with need. The incredible strength in his hands as they moved over her back added another layer—from her neck to her bottom, up her sides, into her hair. She gasped when he fisted her hair and pulled, arching her back. One hand came up to cup her breast and he dropped kisses all around, licking and teasing. A wild sound of pleasure escaped when he ruthlessly sucked her hard against the roof of his mouth. “I could make you come like this.”

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Yes. He could. The thought sent her spiraling. She surged against his erection and then she was. Coming. He wasn’t even inside her and her body flushed with hot waves. In a languid free fall, she floated. The sensation continuing until every ounce of energy drained out of her. She dropped her lips to his shoulder, laved his salty skin with her tongue, the absolute only part of her able to move. When she recovered enough to raise her head, he adjusted her until he was at her entrance. With his big hands engulfing her hips, she pressed down, taking him in slowly and eliciting a tortured groan from Matt. She rocked onto his hard length, pushing him farther, inch by inch. Seated as deeply as he could go, their bodies as close as they could get, Matt stopped. He caught her face in his hands, an almost desperate look in his eyes.

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“Abby, look at me,” he commanded. “I love you.” He followed the words with his mouth, a gentle brush of his lips over hers. “Know it.” He placed hot, open-mouthed kisses along her shoulder. “Believe it,” he whispered, circling the shell of her ear with his tongue. With one hand cradling the back of her head, controlling the kiss, and his other on her bottom, he rocked against her in the most exquisite rhythm. Just enough pressure, exactly where she needed. He was inside her, surrounding her, his body and words combined were too much. She squeezed her eyelids closed against the force of emotions, but she couldn’t shut him out. He wouldn’t let her. Love overwhelmed her. The emotional tide took over and tears ran down her face. He drove into her and brought them over the edge together.

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— RPGs tore through the trees, exploding vines into rings of fire. He fumbled with the comm again. “This is Mountain One calling for immediate extract. Over.” — Green foliage surrounded them; the jungle canopy above pressed them into the black dirt below. The stench of burning flesh, and screams. In seconds the jungle had turned into a fiery hell. The sound of rifle fire was nearly constant. — Three guys were pinned, taking heavy fire. Matt called for extract one more time, then crawled to the edge of the clearing for a clear shot.

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He looked at T a few yards away, gave him the signal to cover while he bought the guys some time. T pointed fingers at his own eyes, then at Matt, acknowledging he understood. Matt was inches from the clearing. Teddy passed him, giving him a little shove on the shoulder as he ran hell-bent into the fray. What the—? Crazy motherf*cker. Matt raised his rifle to lay down fire, and then…all hell broke loose. He glanced to his right just in time to see a bullet rip through Teddy’s chest. Matt half crawled, half ran to where his friend’s body lay sprawled. Blood thundered through his brain, pulsing and pounding, making it hard to hear his own voice. “Teddy’s down.” The words reverberated in his head like close-range shots. “You stupid son of a bitch! I told you to cover me! Wilson is down. Requesting immediate evac.”

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“Matt…” Blood bubbled, frothy, from T’s mouth. “I’m gonna get you out. Don’t talk.” He held the compression against T’s wound with his left hand, fired off a couple of shots with his right. Damn it. “Where the hell is the chopper?” Teddy gripped his arm. “Don’t…” “Relax.” Matt comm clicked. He had to get T to the chopper and out of this godforsaken jungle. “This is Command One. Air support incoming. Ninety seconds. Do you copy?” “This is Mountain One. I copy. Ninety seconds. Over.” Matt raised the rest of the team and dragged T by his vest as each member checked in. They needed to haul ass. The other guys would fall back to the west. He pulled T to the south through a tangle of rotten vegetation.

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“You are not gonna die. Do you hear me?” Teddy struggled for a breath and squeezed Matt’s arm. “It hurts.” More blood dribbled down his chin. “I’m here, T. Just stay alive.” “Don’t…quit.” “I won’t. I won’t f*cking quit.” The grip T had on his arm loosened. The low sound of the gunship vibrated through his chest. “Just hold on. T?” He was losing him. T was slipping away right in front of his eyes, like the warm blood seeping through his fingers. “Don’t die on me, man! T? Teddy? Please.” Vacant eyes stared up at him, not seeing him or hearing his pleas. T’s mouth was still, like the rest of him, but he heard Teddy’s voice in his mind, calling him. “Matt!” He jerked awake, breathing hard, sweat pouring from the heat of a jungle mission. “Matt?”

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A soft hand covered his. He was on his back, his right hand clenching the sheet, his left squeezing something soft and warm. It took a few deep breaths to clear the memories, like blowing away black smoke. Abby. His fingers pressed hard into her leg, slung over his hip. sh*t. Unable to speak, he rubbed her thigh, praying he hadn’t hurt her. He took a second to catalog his surroundings. It was morning. The silver light of dawn seeped through the curtains. Abby’s body, soft and warm, was against his. “I’m sorry.” “You didn’t hurt me.” She slid her cool fingers up his neck and back down. “Bad dream?” “Yeah.” He pulled Abby closer, rubbing her back, loving the feel of her skin under his palm. She pressed a kiss to his chest and squeezed him tighter so that he felt the fullness of her breast. Her strawberry scented

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hair tucked further into his shoulder, and the sickness left by the dream faded. This was what she did for him. Only her. Only Abby. Filling something in him to the point it crowded out the dark. She angled her head to see his eyes. “Who’s Teddy?” Stroking her arm to comfort himself, he took a deep breath and let it out. “A teammate. A friend. He died on an op almost two years ago.” “I’m sorry,” she whispered, smoothing the lines of pain with her touch. “Is that why it’s complicated?” That was exactly why. His friend had wanted to do one thing in life and hadn’t understood Matt not feeling the same. Before Matt had even had a chance to figure out what he was looking for, Teddy had died and he’d closed off all possibilities of ever finding it.

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Now he’d found her, she lay right here in his arms, and the strength of his love threatened to rip his heart apart. He was caught, stuck, between two places. And the last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt her. They lay like that for a long time and he recalled hours earlier when he’d been inside her. The look in her eyes when he’d said he loved her…like he’d just handed her a grenade and pulled the pin. So afraid and uncertain, almost hurt, like there was no way he could mean it. She shifted and he settled her in closer, sliding his leg between hers, breathing her in, loving the satiny coolness of her hair against his cheek. Didn’t she know what she did to him? He wanted to bind her to him so tightly she couldn’t see herself without him, yet every time he left she was without him. And he was terrified he would lose her for just that reason. Even as he told himself to go

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slowly, give her time to get used to the idea, the words slipped out again. “I love you.”

Chapter 24 I love you. He’d said it over and over. It was amazing and disconcerting, and…Abby couldn’t let herself forget that lots of people had said it. For a long time she even believed they’d meant it. But by the time she was ten she’d decided she wouldn’t love them back. Because things changed, people changed their minds. That was one of the few certainties in life. Angie had said to give him a chance. Give herself a chance. But Abby’s past warned her against both. Matt’s fingers moved in a featherlight touch over her hip, around her belly, and back. Repetitive and soothing. Constant.

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He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Why does it scare you so much?” He didn’t have to say it; she knew exactly what he meant. He’d looked at her, his heart in his eyes, holding nothing back, while she stood with the door to hers barely cracked, safety chain on, ready to slam it shut if she got too scared. But she wanted to give him something. “My dad died in a car accident. I think I told you that. My mom died a year later. I was five. My third home was nice. A young couple who didn’t have any other children. They said they always wanted a little girl like me, even though I still cried every night for my mother. I was there almost a year, I think.” Looking back, she didn’t know why she’d thought it would be forever. “What happened?” “There was a job in China. They couldn’t take me. They were sorry.” Nice words that

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hadn’t eased an ounce of pain in a little girl’s heart. “You know when people move and they can’t take their dog so they call around trying to find him a good home?” Matt made a small noise to show he was listening. “They did that. I heard them. ‘She’s really sweet and smart.’ I was even house-trained.” She tried to laugh. “Abby—” “No, it’s fine.” Stupid to cry now, though the memory was still so clear. The bright August sun. The cracked driveway. Her face hot and stinging with tears. She begged them not to leave her, grabbing on to the woman with the long soft hair like her mother’s until the social worker pulled her away with rough hands and cutting nails. Even more cutting were the lady’s tearful words. We love you, Abby. We’re sorry. Then why are you leaving me?

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“They took the dog.” Her voice broke. “All the way to China.” His body tightened around hers, like he could protect her somehow, even from the past. But he couldn’t. “Kind of funny, if you think about it. He was really cute. White and fluffy.” She left out how she’d broken away and chased their car. How she’d run as fast and far as she could go, only stopping when she fell on the gravelly road. Then the car turned the corner and they were gone. And she’d felt lost…insignificant. “I’m sorry.” “Don’t feel sorry for me.” “No. You’re too strong for that.” “There were others. Some I remember well, some I don’t.” But she did remember that she’d tried way too hard and believed way too long that things would be different.

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That next time it would last. “You learned and it got easier.” “What did you learn, baby?” His words were just a whisper and so were hers. “Not to get attached. Not to want anyone. You tell yourself it won’t last, so when it ends you won’t be surprised.” You leave them before they leave you, even if it’s only in your mind, because that’s all a child can do. It had taken a few more times of settling in, then waking up one day to find that she wasn’t wanted after all, for her to learn the lessons she needed to survive. To make the rule not to care. Yet here she was with Matt’s arms around her, her back to his front, and once again she’d told him things she’d never told anyone else. It felt right somehow, safe. And in every way too good to be true. —

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Matt knelt in front of the swing. Annie stared back at him through hazel eyes, the green and gold flecks glistening with tears. He watched her battle not to let even one tear fall. She’d opened up in the last two days. Played with him. Talked to him. He’d lose ground, but he’d work hard to make it up. “Bye, princess.” Annie didn’t say a word. One step forward, two steps back. Maybe three. “Matt, watch me,” Gracie said, flying down the slide, then twirling across the yard. “Nice twirl, ladybug.” He kissed the top of Annie’s head, stood, and stared down at her another second. With his heart heavy, he walked to the other end of the play-set where an opening under the monkey bars led to the fort above. Putting his hands on the edge, he pulled himself up easily and sat with his legs hanging out. Bright yellow maples stood out against a deep blue sky. The wind blew, rustling the changing leaves in the branches—the

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sound of fall. The perfect day for a man to spend outside with his kids. “Hey, bud.” Jack stared through the plastic telescope. “Hey.” “I have to go. I’m sorry.” A lifetime of I’m sorry and doling out disappointment spread in front of him like black space. “I know. You have to save people. It’s okay.” Jack’s understanding only made it worse as Matt hugged him goodbye. “Someday, I’ll be a hero like you,” Jack said. And the knife in his gut twisted. He was no hero. Matt hopped down from the play fort. He grabbed up Gracie from where she was pulling flowers, tossed her into the air, and brought her in for a crushing hug.

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“You’re queezing me,” she said, even as her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms choked his neck. He loosened his hold and she pulled back. “I picked you some fowers.” She stuck them under his nose. “Thank you, baby.” She sniffed them and fingered the collar of his shirt. “Are you tumming back?” “Always,” he said and gave her one last squeeze before putting her down and walking inside to face an even harder goodbye. He found Abby standing at the window overlooking the backyard. He stepped up behind her and slid his hands around her middle, hoping to feel the baby move one more time before he left. His chest tightened when she covered his hands with her own. Running his lips up the side of her neck, he breathed her in as her head fell back. God, he loved her. He’d known her barely six

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weeks, had visited her twice, slept beside her less than a handful of nights, yet leaving her made him physically nauseous. And the kids? That was just f*cking painful. Part of him was grateful Charlie had fallen asleep. “I hate saying goodbye to them.” “I know, but they love you.” The words stopped something in his heart. “And what about their mother?” Abby’s fingers tensed on top of his. Damn it. He shouldn’t have asked, knew better than to push. He saw what he needed to see in her eyes when they made love. Matt turned her in his arms. “Jury’s still out on that, huh?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood as he gently tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “It’s not that. It’s just…Maybe we’re not—” “Shh.” Matt touched his forehead to hers. Her breath kissed his face. “I’m scared too. That you’ll tell me not to come back. That it’s too hard for you, for the kids.”

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She eased away, shaking her head slowly. “You have a job, an important one. I underst—” “You’re important.” His words rushed out and he took her face between his palms. “Don’t ever doubt that.” But he knew she did. He pressed soft kisses over her troubled eyes, her worried brow and serious mouth. Raising his head, he brought her chin up until she looked him in the eye. “I don’t want to hurt you, baby, I swear, but please don’t ask me to let you go. Give us a chance. Give me a chance.” Abby’s eyes were soft and open, sad and loving, and a million other things he couldn’t name. He kissed her, pouring out his heart, giving her everything he could. It would have to last them both until he saw her again. Until he could get back here, where more and more he felt like he belonged.

Chapter 25 Matt grabbed a candy bar from a ceramic jack-o’-lantern on his mother’s counter. She turned from the sink. “Matt, I’m making lunch.” “I know,” he said, popping a second one into his mouth. “But they’re tiny.” He’d only come over to borrow a tool from his dad, but his mother had insisted he stay for lunch. “They’re called ‘fun-size,’ ” she said, setting a plate in front of him, “and I got them for the kids, not you.” He couldn’t help but smile, recalling Jack’s comment when they’d been to the store. What’s fun about them? They’re small. Matt agreed. And that reminded him. Candy. Halloween. Abby had said she was getting giant

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bags of Halloween candy at a place that sold in bulk. He’d seen some of the stuff in her pantry: cases of soda, thirty-pound boxes of laundry detergent, giant packages of water bottles. Matt sent her a text. He didn’t want her going there without him. She could get small bags and he’d get the big stuff the next time he was there. It’d been almost two weeks since his visit to Raleigh. His platoon was waiting for word on a joint training exercise that kept getting pushed back. It sucked, but at least he had the house project to keep him busy. And he could talk to Abby every day. Though a phone call paled in comparison with feeling the warmth of her body pressed tightly against his. He’d fallen in love with the most incredible woman. He should be happy, ecstatic. But he was so torn he ached. She wasn’t asking him to quit the team, she wasn’t asking him for

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anything. But she didn’t have to ask for him to want to give it to her. The look in her eyes when he’d told her goodbye, so determined not to cry—it ate at him. She put on a brave face, one he imagined she’d perfected over the years, and threw out her standard “I’m fine” every chance she got. He imagined she’d been a bright girl like Annie. Bright enough to know there were steps that could’ve been taken if that couple had really wanted to adopt her and take her with them to China. They’d said all the right things and left her anyway. He was going to have to make his words mean something. How the hell he would do that, while keeping his promise to someone else, he didn’t know. His phone buzzed. Already there. The words followed by a smiley face. “Damn it.” “Watch your language, Matthew.”

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Matt cleared his throat. “Yes, ma’am.” He’d infiltrated some of the most hostile places on earth, but around his mother he was still ten. The front door opened and closed, and a few seconds later Lizzy walked in. She summed him up in one look. “What’s the matter? Trouble in lady land?” He sighed, unwrapped another baby-size candy bar, and glanced up at the sound of more women. “Hey, Matt.” Great. His sisters-in-law Meg and Sarah walked in. He swore they moved in a pack, always ready to pounce. On him or any other male. No wonder Lizzy had been so happy at all her brothers’ weddings. She was building reinforcements. Lizzy kissed Mom’s cheek and took a candy bar.

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Matt watched her pop it into her mouth. “Why does she get to eat candy bars?” “Because I’m the favorite. Check the board.” “Be nice, you two. I’m going to walk a sandwich out to your father’s workshop.” Lizzy peeled off another wrapper. “What’s the problem? Maybe we can help.” Matt scrubbed his hands over his face. “She doesn’t listen to anything I say. It’s driving me crazy!” Sarah looked him over. “Who are we talking about? Abby?” “Yes,” he said, aware he was sulking. “What is it, exactly, that she won’t listen to you about?” Lizzy’s tone already said he was in trouble. “I told her not to go to this shopping place. The stuff is too heavy for her. If she could just wait until I got there, but no, she went

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and did it on her own. Again. Damn stubborn woman.” “She’s not one of your soldiers, Mr. Bossy,” said Lizzy. “I know that. I’m just trying to help her.” He turned to Beth, who’d just joined them. “You’re a doctor. Back me up. She shouldn’t be lifting heavy stuff.” “You’re right. She shouldn’t overdo it.” He gave Lizzy a So there look. “But she has been pregnant four times. I’m sure she knows what she’s doing.” “And I’m sure there are gentlemen there who are willing to help her with big items,” Meg added. “Right. Dirty old men.” “Aw, poor baby.” Beth patted his head as she walked by. “It’s hard not to be in charge.” Lizzy grabbed another candy bar. “And if you think telling a woman not to shop is a

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good idea, you’ve got a lot to learn about women.” Matt closed his eyes and shook his head at their digs disguised as advice. “Thanks for the tip. I’ve got stuff to do. Tell Mom thanks for the sandwich.” He stood, grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair. “Any time, brother.” — The door was open, letting in a cool fall breeze, and Matt heard a shout from the front of the house. “Hey, you in here?” He set down his hammer and headed toward the sound of Tony’s voice, wiping his face with the rag hanging out his back pocket. “You got a lot of time on your hands. You sure you’re running a business?” “That’s exactly why I’m running my own business, so I can take off when I need to.

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Like today. Say hi to your Uncle Matt,” he told the kids—Alex, four, and Louisa, two. “Hi, Uncle Matt,” they both said before wandering off to explore. Tony walked further into what would be the kitchen. “The house is coming along.” “Yeah.” He’d sold another one. The profit he was turning over was surprising. With that in addition to his military salary, which went mostly unspent, he was sitting on a sizable nest egg. One his brother Stephen had made even bigger. “So, why are you off today? Kid stuff?” “Kind of. I’m taking these two to Mom’s, then meeting Beth at the doctor’s.” Matt glanced at his niece, who was stirring his paint cup with a screwdriver. “Everything okay with Beth? I just saw her at Mom’s.”

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“She had to drop off a bag of necessities for the kids. And, yeah, she’s fine. Just a checkup. Hoping to hear the heartbeat.” His brother’s face broke into a goofy grin and something sharp twisted inside him. Had Abby heard the heartbeat? Had anyone been with her? When was her next appointment? All things he would know if he were there. “You go to all her appointments?” “I try to. I’m betting on a boy, but you know how Beth is about finding out. We’ll start the pool next week if you want to place your bet.” Tony grabbed Louisa and redirected her before she pried the lid off a bucket of plaster. “How’s Abby? She must be getting close.” Matt mentally calculated exactly how far along she was. She was due December seventh, so…“Almost seven and half months.” “She feeling okay?” “I guess.” The truth was he didn’t know if she would tell him if she wasn’t.

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If you were there, you’d would know. If he were there, he’d make sure she never lifted anything heavier than a gallon of milk. He’d watch her like a hawk. Keep assholes like William away. He really hated that guy. Because he was there? Because maybe he could be the kind of man Abby needed? The man Matt wasn’t? Tony gave him a questioning look. “You cooling things off?” “What? Hell no. Just thinking.” “About?” “You ever feel guilty?” “For what? Knocking up my wife?” Matt smiled with his brother even though he didn’t feel very smiley. “No, I mean for quitting, getting out of the air force and going into business for yourself.” “Is that how you look at it? Quitting?” That’s how it was.

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Tony shook his head at Matt like he was a kid who’d done the same dumb thing again. “No, to answer your question. And I didn’t quit. I signed up, fulfilled my duty, and moved on.” Matt straightened his tools into a line on the bar. “Do I miss it? Sure, there’s things I miss—the guys, the rush, flying the government’s hottest toys. But watching my children come into the world…Nothing could ever compare to that. I know guys that do it, and I respect the hell out of them, but there are some things I just wasn’t willing to miss. Everybody’s gotta make their own choices. And you know Beth. Being the cause of her pain is one of the more dangerous things I’ve done.” Matt laughed, thinking of his ball-busting sister-in-law, and gently removed a paintbrush from Louisa’s hand. “She’s had you tied up since you were fourteen years old.”

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Tony smiled with a faraway look in his eyes. “She’s everything,” he said, then looked pointedly at Matt. No doubt remembering Matt’s very words regarding Abby. Tony checked his watch. “Well, I just dropped in to see how it was going. I gotta get these little hellions to Mom’s. Unless you want to watch them?” “Oh no. I love them and all, but they’re touching my stuff.” “Come on then, little rascals. Say bye to Uncle Matt.” Matt gave Alex knuckles like he’d taught him. “Bye, Louisa.” She ignored him. Tony laughed. “She’s pissed. She really likes to paint.” “I’ll make it up to her,” Matt said with a wicked grin. “Maybe bring over some leftover supplies so she can redecorate her room.”

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“Don’t you dare, and don’t forget to come by next week for chili.” “If I’m here, I’ll be there.” Matt waved them off and moved around the kitchen, picking up tools. Might be cool to have Jack here, touching his stuff, showing him how things worked. If he took some kind of nonoperational assignment, maybe he could still work at the base, and he and Jack could build on the weekends. But no. Either he was in or he was out. Either he was keeping his word to Teddy or he wasn’t. What was Abby thinking? Up to this point he’d been afraid to ask, knowing he was moving too fast for her as it was. He didn’t want to open up a chance for her to call things off. Yet he didn’t know exactly what he had to offer her, and she deserved to know what she was getting. Matt pulled his phone out of his pocket, needing to hear her voice. It rang in his ear

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five times before going to voice mail. Well, he’d heard her voice, though not exactly what he’d had in mind. She was possibly the worst phone answerer in the history of the world. He needed to tape it to her forehead, string it around her neck. Oh, she’d love that idea. He laughed to himself and went back to work. At six he decided he had time for a quick run to the hardware store for more supplies. As he drove, he thought about Tony and Beth and births. Seemed like there was always a child being born into his family, or one pending, and the women loved to share the gory details of their labor and delivery. But why, if it was so horrible, did they feel the need to relive the entire event in detail? His brothers were just as bad. Who’d hit the deck and who’d cut the cord. Who’d jumped up and headed for the door without their pants. There were harried tales of getting the call at work and almost missing a

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quick birth. Of course work for them meant being thirty minutes away, max. Not thirty hours. Beth quoted hilarious threats she’d heard women make against the men who’d put them in that position of pain and suffering. But the men had been there, holding hands, wiping brows, taking the abuse. Who would hold Abby’s hand? Who would drive her to the hospital in the middle of the night? Did she have someone to call? Damn it. He lowered the window for some air. Her words echoed in his mind. What could you have done? She was right. Not much he could do from five thousand miles away, and that’s if she even got in touch with him. Knowing her, she’d rather face it alone than ask for help. And if she had an emergency? How soon could he get there? Would she call William? He stopped at a red light and slammed his hands on the steering wheel. f*ck. The light

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turned green, and before he knew it, he was pulling into the parking lot serving the private end of the airport. Matt walked into the hangar and saw his brother standing beside the new Learjet he’d been going on about. Tony didn’t look up from the clipboard in his hand. “Hey, man.” “Hey. How was Beth’s appointment?” Matt actually envied going to a doctor appointment. “Good. Strong heartbeat.” “That’s good. Listen, Tony, I need a favor.” Tony finally lifted his eyes. “What kind of favor?” “I need a flight. Today.” Now. “Really? Where to? No, let me guess.” Tony turned, unsmiling, and started toward his office.

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What the hell? He’d just seen his brother less than six hours ago. “I’m not asking to get it for free, dipsh*t.” “You’re a dumb-ass, you know that?” “Yes, I do know, but lucky for me you’re always here just in case I forget. What the hell is your problem?” When they reached the office, Tony spun to face him. “When is it going to be enough?” “What the hell are you talking about?” “I just sat and listened to my baby’s heartbeat. A tiny new life, a miracle. I thought to myself, Maybe if it’s a boy I’ll name him after my idiot brother. And then I thought, Well, that would suck, to be named after your dead uncle. You ruined my moment and it pisses me off.” Matt was speechless. While they’d fought plenty as kids, he didn’t want to fight his older brother, the one he looked up to.

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Tony got right in his face. “When will you think you’ve paid your dues, huh? You’ve got a woman you love, kids you love, and I know you want to be with them, so don’t try to tell me you don’t. All that and you’re still so hung up on your guilt you can’t walk away.” “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Matt said in a low voice, determined not to scream. Tony didn’t mind. “The hell I don’t! I know you lost your best friend. I know you’ve set up this payment plan to somehow make it right. So, how long until you’re all paid up, huh? What do you have to do, Matt? Make the ultimate sacrifice?” “You don’t know what—” “But I know you. And I know in all your honorable ways you probably blame yourself.” That wasn’t it. It was because his friend had asked him to do something and he’d given his word.

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“And when is it not quitting? When you’re forty? Fifty? When you’re dead?” Tony let out a heavy breath. “I just want my brother back. If this is what you want to do for the rest of your life, so be it. But if you’re putting your life on the line to punish yourself, then I’m going to kick your ass.” “That makes sense,” Matt said dryly, and there was a moment of silence. “There was a look in your eyes,” Tony said seriously, “when you used to talk about being a SEAL.” He held up his hand to stop Matt from arguing. “I’m sure you’re just as good at your job as you ever were. But that look—I hadn’t seen it in a long time. Not until you talked about Abby. If you really love her, don’t lose her over guilt. I’ll get your ride.”

Chapter 26 Abby carried another load of laundry to the couch. It was happy laundry. Pregnant-woman-nesting laundry. Each item she folded held a special memory. The white gown Annie had worn home from the hospital. The tiny pink and white onesie Angie had given Gracie with a matching blanket. The new baby was due in six weeks. There was no greater anticipation than waiting for a baby. And this would be her last. Last time to feel a baby moving inside her. Last time to nurse. The only thing that could possibly make it better was Matt being here. She hadn’t wanted to get close enough to miss him, but she did, she thought smiling. And at least for now it didn’t hurt so much, thinking of him. Actually the opposite.

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Some nights she’d put him on speaker while they ate dinner, took baths, or got ready for bed. The kids sang him silly songs from the bathtub, and a couple of times he’d even told them a bedtime story over the phone. After the kids were asleep, she’d curl up, phone pressed to her ear. They’d talk for hours about everything and nothing—movies, TV shows, his life, her life. Sometimes they’d watched the same show all the way through as if they were sitting on the couch together. He didn’t say a lot about his military work, and she didn’t ask. They focused more on how she spent her days, the kids, and the progress with his current house. He’d sold another one and bought two more, which were in the early planning stages. A man of many talents.

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Her phone rang as she folded the last baby blanket. Seeing Matt’s name come up, she answered quickly, a smile on her lips. “Hi.” “Hi,” Matt said. “What are you doing?” “Talking to you. What are you doing?” It was their standard exchange. Even through the phone, she felt closer to him than anyone in her entire life. “Just grabbing a late dinner.” “Matt, it’s nearly ten o’clock.” “Like I said, late.” “What have you been doing all day?” “Painting. Building. How are you? You feeling okay?” “I’m good, but I’d kill for some Phish Food right now.” “Okay, babe, that is weird.” “Ha-ha. It’s a Ben and Jerry’s flavor. You know, chocolate ice cream, marshmallow, and little chocolate pieces shaped like fish.” “Ah. An ice cream craving.”

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“Yes. I can’t believe I ran out. I’ll stock up tomorrow.” “So, how is everybody?” Abby started to give him the short version, but, as always, he wanted details. “Well, we started our day with Jack spilling cranberry juice on Gracie’s favorite yellow shirt and then telling her it was ugly anyway.” “Ooh, dissing a woman’s clothes. I’ll have to talk to him about that.” “Good luck. He’s in an I-hate-girls phase.” Abby wondered if Matt would be around when Jack changed his mind, but she quickly pushed those thoughts aside. “Charlie had dinosaur day at preschool, probably the best day of his life to this point. I’ll let him tell you about it himself. Gracie had a teddy bear picnic. They brought their favorite stuffed bear and ate lunch on the big-kid playground. You know how it galls her to have a special playground for preschoolers—such a nasty word.”

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She’d heard Matt thanking a checkout person during that long recitation. “What are you buying?” “Just some frozen stuff.” She skipped the part about her meeting at school with William. No need to upset him. “Charlie got a scraped knee at Jack’s football practice when he tried to demonstrate a tackle on one of Gracie’s friends, but what really made him cry was Gracie telling him he played like a girl.” “Well, that’s a pretty bad insult.” “Really? I’ll let you say that to Gracie’s face next time you’re here.” “Okay, I take it back.” “Baby.” “Yep. I’m not going to tangle with that three-year-old spitfire. Hey, do me a favor and go check the doors while I’m on the phone.”

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Matt was always reminding her to be safe. “I’m sure I locked them.” “I’m sure you did too. Just go check for me one more time while I’m here.” “Matt—” “Humor me.” “Fine.” She checked the back door and walked to the front. “It’s locked.” “Thanks for checking.” She heard the words coming from the phone, but she also heard— “Matt?” “What?” “Matt!” She unlocked the door and nearly threw it off its hinges. There on the bottom step stood a gorgeous Matt, his cell in one hand, a pint of Phish Food in the other. “What are you doing here? I thought you had to train or—” “I did. I do, but I heard someone here was desperate for ice cream.”

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She was kissing him before he even got in the door. Attacking him, not caring if they were in or out. He walked her through the doorway, closing the door behind him with his foot and reaching back to turn the dead bolt. “Don’t you want your ice cream?” She took it from his hands and dropped it on the floor. “I’d rather have you.” Abby tugged his head down for a kiss. But it didn’t take much. Matt’s lips were hot on her skin, his teeth scraping against her neck. Then he took her mouth, hard and completely, the same way he’d taken everything else. — Hours later Matt held her against his side, listening as her breathing returned to normal. Outside the bedroom walls she was a buttoned-up mother of four, but in bed…holy God. He’d never forget how wild she’d been,

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riding him, breasts swaying, a smile on her face. Greedy. Impatient. The look of shock and pleasure when she came around him. The vision was forever burned into his brain. He’d have it to call upon all the nights they were apart. Too many nights. Abby stretched languidly, rubbing herself against him. “I never knew it could be like this. You’ve turned me into a sex fiend.” “But only for me.” She raised her head and laid a hand against his face. “Yes, only for you.” Then she kissed him and his heart nearly wept. He would have laughed at some of the lines men used in movies, but one was too true. It hurt. He loved her so much his heart actually hurt. “You’re so beautiful,” he said against her mouth, then, needing more, rolled her to her back. He slid down her body and touched his lips just below her belly button. “You’re bigger.”

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“Yes. So you keep saying.” “You know I love it.” She smiled and ran a loving hand over his hair as he laid a cheek to the top of her stomach. He caressed the smooth, warm skin covering the hard ball. “Do you think she can hear me?” “Yes.” Matt imagined the tiny body, turning and flipping. Would she be a quiet, pensive little girl who wore braids and liked to read? Or another little chatterbox with big eyes and curls? Either would be perfect. Anything his little girl wanted to be. And she should be his. He’d felt her move. Watched her grow. She was part of Abby, and Abby was a part of him. “Do you think she sucks her thumb?” “Maybe. I’ll be having another ultrasound soon. Sometimes you can see the baby sucking on a thumb or fingers.”

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He lifted his head. “When is that?” “Next week. Monday, I think.” Another thing missed. He kissed his way back up her body, laid a lingering kiss on her forehead. “I can’t be here. I have to leave in the morning. Early.” “Okay.” He didn’t expect her to ask him to stay, felt guilty for wanting her to. He propped himself over her, evenly held her gaze. “Where’d you get the flowers?” She rubbed her legs against his. Her fingers danced absently over his chest. “Hmm?” “I got a drink earlier.” And he couldn’t miss them, gracing the island as they were. “There are flowers in your kitchen. Who are they from?” “It’s nothing.” It wasn’t nothing. It was a damn bouquet of flowers and they weren’t from him.

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“It was a thank-you for some work I did for the school.” “The card didn’t say from the school. It said from William.” Damn that man. Now he wished he’d done more than squeeze the life out of his hand. Who the f*ck did he think he was? “Yellow is for friendship,” she said, blinking up at him, a slight furrow between those gorgeous eyes. Yeah, right. “I should have sent you flowers.” She slid her fingers over his shoulders and into his hair. “I don’t need flowers.” She was his heart, and he’d never even sent her flowers. Because it seemed such an insignificant gesture. An entire garden wouldn’t be enough. But he sure as hell didn’t want any other man doing it. He caressed her baby-soft cheek with the back of his hand. “There’s not enough flowers in the world to say how much I love you.”

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Abby rewarded him with her sweet smile, the one that made her eyes sparkle and his heart turn over. He leaned down for a kiss, deepening it just to make sure she had no doubt who she belonged to. And who belonged to her. When he pulled back, her eyes were so full of tears they hung on her lashes, waiting to fall. “Hey. That wasn’t supposed to make you sad.” “Matt, I…” Whatever it was inside her stopped her from saying the words. He didn’t need the words. “Don’t cry, baby.” She shook her head that she wasn’t and pressed her lips tight. And the sight of her trying so hard not to ripped into him sharper than tears. He knew she was afraid. Knew what she was afraid of.

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“Abby, look at me. I’m coming back. Do you think I could walk away from this? That I won’t be running back to you as fast as I can? I can’t promis—” “I don’t want promises. Please.” She held his face in her small hands. “No promises.” He hated leaving her, hated everything about not being wherever she was. His lips lingered against hers and eased into more. They made love slowly, tenderly, then he held her in his arms, waiting to close his eyes until she was asleep.

Chapter 27 Abby’s mind had been full of Matt all day, all week, missing his voice, trying to picture where he was, what he was doing. As soon as the kids were in bed, she went for her phone. Matt said he loved her and, God help her, she believed him. Not only did she hear the words, she felt them. She’d almost told him she loved him when he’d left the last time, but it was like her head censured her heart every time the words tried to bubble out. She rolled the words around in her head, hoping when the time came they would flow. The more she let herself think it, the better it sounded. Not once, other than to her children, had she said those three words and not had the person leave, so maybe her mind had a point. It did seem somewhat cause and

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effect. Or maybe they’d always been on the verge of leaving. Earlier that day her cell had shown several missed calls from Matt. She’d listened to two messages in between running the sports practice/dance route, and then…dead phone. No surprise. If she needed it, it was lost. If she had it, it wasn’t charged. She grabbed her phone off the charger and went to the couch, anxious to hear his voice. He’d sounded funny. First, he was on his way back and he’d call her ASAP. Then, a call but no message. Then, the last message: He really needed to talk to her. She’d sensed some stress the last time he’d been here. Work? Her? Her own emotions were all over the place, but she knew one thing for sure. She wanted to be with him more than she wanted to be without him, even if it scared her to death. If there was anyone she was willing to take a risk for, it was Matt.

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— “Hey, McKinney,” Chappers yelled, stopping Matt in the base parking lot. “You going to Digger’s tonight?” The guys in his platoon were going to get a drink. He wasn’t going to miss it. “I’ll be there.” He walked to his truck, gear bag thrown over his back. He’d been going nonstop since he’d left Abby, and he’d missed Halloween, which sucked. She’d texted him a picture of the kids in their costumes: Jack, a skeleton; Annie, an orange and black candy corn witch; Charlie, a cowboy; and Gracie, a cowgirl. He should have been there, not only because he loved that holiday but because he hated the idea of them walking around in the dark. He imagined the kids had gone in four different directions, and Abby had probably

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carried Charlie half the time when she shouldn’t be carrying anything. He couldn’t go on like this. Didn’t want to. Maybe he could take leave until after the baby was born. Or maybe…maybe he could find the strength to walk away. For Abby. He was in too deep to pull back, though it sucked he was coming around to this today of all days. Head pounding, Matt started his truck, eager for a shower and a beer. He wanted to toast his dead friend, and he wanted to talk to the woman he loved. Damn it. He froze, fingers white-knuckling the steering wheel. It was loyalty to those two people, so completely at odds, that was making it so f*cking hard. By the time he got to the bar, he was in a hell of a mood. He’d called Abby three times. No answer, as usual. Never in his life had he wanted a woman to call him so badly. He needed to talk on the phone like a girl.

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Was it too much to ask that she reach out to him? And tonight of all nights he would’ve liked to hear her voice—two years to the day since his best friend had died in his arms. He needed a drink. Or several. Digger’s was primarily a man’s bar: alcohol, pool, darts. Tonight there was an overload of perfume and hairspray in the air as Matt made his way past a group of women to the bar. It was only the second time the team had met up to drink on this occasion, not counting after the funeral. They’d made a pact on that first night that it wouldn’t be a cry fest. They were Navy SEALs, for God’s sake. They all knew the score, knew it could be any of them at any time. They weren’t as invincible as they liked to think. They’d drink to their friend and be thankful for one another’s company. That’s how T would’ve wanted it.

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He could see by the empty shot glasses lined up on the wooden bar the guys hadn’t waited on him. “Hey, my man.” Decker clamped a thick hand down on his shoulder. “You are way behind. Could we get this man a drink?” he shouted to the bartender. And with that, they proceeded to catch him up on what could be his last bar night as an active-duty SEAL. Four shots later, he was feeling a bit better about things. Well, not better, but he did appreciate the dull buzzing in his ears. Parker, Rocky, and Chappers had challenged some of the guys from Echo platoon to a game of pool. The onlookers, male and female, surrounded the table as the match deteriorated into a drinking game. “Lot of hot women over there,” Decker said, leaning against the bar beside him. Matt took a pull of his beer without comment.

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“Not even tempted, are you?” Matt lowered the bottle. “Nope.” “Don’t blame you.” Matt eyed his friend. “You’re the one that showed me her picture.” Right. “You know, my marriage didn’t implode because I was a SEAL.” Matt looked at the man beside him, who’d never once mentioned his failed marriage in all the time they’d known each other. “It imploded because I was too blind to see she was a bitch from hell.” Decker laughed and threw back a shot. “But if she hadn’t been, if she’d been like your Abby…I’d have walked away from the SEALs years ago.” Matt couldn’t have been more shocked if Doug had told him he was a woman. He’d never met a man more devoted to the team, except maybe Teddy, and he’d always

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assumed that Doug hadn’t cared enough to make his marriage work. That being a SEAL required such a level of dedication he’d chosen the team over his wife. “You know, I’m surprised you haven’t,” Doug said. “Haven’t what?” “Gotten out.” Doug raised a beer chaser to his mouth, took a long drink. “Teddy told me that was your plan.” Everything in Matt tensed. “Come again?” “T. He told me you were making noise about leaving the team, way back when. I’m just surprised, with your lady and the kids and all.” Matt could only stare. T had what? It took him a second to digest. “How did he say it?” “Huh?” “When he told you, how did he say it?” “Well, he wasn’t laughing, but I remember thinking he didn’t seem surprised either. I

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figured the two of you had talked about it and you’d tell the rest of us when you were good and ready.” Matt shook his head, trying to understand. “But he told me not to quit.” “I know. I was there. But men say a lot of things when they’re dying.” Matt had forgotten Decker was there, so unaware he’d been of anything but the man dying in his arms. “And don’t quit what?” Decker asked. “Don’t quit the mission? Don’t quit on life? Don’t quit jacking off?” Decker laughed and raised his bottle to the guys around the pool table, as it all swirled in Matt’s head: Teddy. What he’d meant. Abby. The kids. The guys. “How are you at pool?” “I’m okay,” Matt answered absently.

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“Come on. Let’s go teach these boys a lesson.” Doug pushed off the bar and walked to the pool table. Matt followed, unable to sort the jumbled pieces at the moment. After two rounds of pool and an unknown number of drinks, even his dick was buzzing. No, wait. That was his phone. He fished it out as another round slid down the oak bar. Abby. For a second he considered not answering it, but he was a weak man when it came to her. “Hello!” he shouted over the mayhem as somebody sloshed beer over his arm. “I need a drink,” Rocky slurred next to his ear. “What?” Matt had no idea what she was saying. sh*t. He couldn’t hear a thing. The chick who’d introduced herself at the pool table chose that moment to grab him from behind, almost knocking the phone

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from his ear. “Come on, McKinney, get off the phone and dance with me.” There was no music in here. Wait. Maybe there was. The singing of navy songs had begun. Teddy’d loved that. Matt shrugged the girl off as gently as he could, still making it clear he wasn’t interested. “Abby? Hey, I can’t talk right now. I can barely hear you.” But he did hear the beep in his ear. He pulled the phone back to see the screen. Call ended. Damn it. “Smooth move, McKinney,” Rocky said. “You really are losing your touch.” Matt slammed his bottle on the bar. “Be right back.” — Abby ended the call unsure what to do or think. Her heart had warmed at the sound of Matt’s voice on the other end of the line,

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then instantly cooled with the loud male laughter mixed with extremely close feminine giggles. She wasn’t particularly worried about the women. Matt was too honorable for that. But when had he gotten back? She thought he was still— The cell in her hand buzzed. Matt. “Hello?” “I’ve been calling you all day.” “Hey.” She let out a relieved breath. “Sorry. My phone wasn’t charged. You won’t believe—” “What? Hang on.” Distinctively female voices were calling Matt to come back to wherever he’d been. “I’ll be right there,” he said, obviously talking to someone else. It got noticeably more quiet, and she started to apologize again. “I’m sorry I di—” “We need to talk.” There was an edge to Matt’s voice she’d never heard before. Was he angry that she

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hadn’t answered? Or that she’d called? A sick feeling seeped into her stomach. “Hey, you know if this isn’t a good time, I can call you back.” “No, it’s fine. Listen, though. I’ve been thinking, and…this long distance thing…It’s not working.” Abby froze. The beat of her heart, the blood flowing through her veins—everything stopped. “Look, just listen to me for a second, okay?” This is what he’d needed to talk to her about. Not that he wanted to be with her but that he didn’t. “Abby—” “Stop. Please.” She knew how it would go. He’d try to ease the blow, explaining how it was for the best. “Abby?”

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At least he was doing it over the phone. So much easier than looking in their eyes when they gave their reasons, their excuses. And he didn’t need to know how much he was hurting her. “I understand…You’re busy. It’s okay.” “What’s okay? What are you talking about?” “It’s…not working.” Her voice shook and she fought to rein it in. “I get it.” A long silence followed before he finally spoke. “And that’s okay with you?” The tension was thick, the silence over the phone line deafening. Don’t care. Don’t want it. If you don’t want them, they can’t hurt you. “I never asked you to come.” “So, if I said it was over, that would be okay with you?” Abby scrambled to reassemble the walls she’d lowered for Matt. “It would have to be,

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wouldn’t it?” She wouldn’t beg someone to love her, to stay with her. Matt made a loud frustrated sound. “And God forbid you admit that you want me, that you need me?” He sounded incredulous, like he wanted to end it but he wanted to know it bothered her. Well, he wouldn’t get both. “You know what, Abby? Maybe that’s why you’re always alone. Because you can’t ask anyone for anything. Because you push so f*cking hard. Did you ever think of that?” “Yes.” She choked out the word and ended the call. Yes. I’ve thought of it. I just don’t know how to fix it.

Chapter 28 “Abby? Abby!” Matt slammed the hand holding his phone against the brick wall. “f*ck!” Slammed it again. And again, then scrubbed his hands over his face, stabbed his fingers into his hair and pulled. What the hell had just happened? He was on the verge of choosing her over everything. Over his job, his teammates, his promise. And she didn’t even care if he walked away? Was it so easy for her to let him go? Matt sucked in the cool night air and stared up at the sky, picturing her face. It would have to be, wouldn’t it? In an instant his anger cooled. That’s what she thought. She’s been left so many times

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she accepted it. Expected it. He saw it in her eyes every time he left. He was the one who’d pushed. He was the one who’d told her not to be afraid, and he was the one puss*footing around a decision that affected her life. What the hell have I done? She’d been alone all her life because no one had stepped up and loved her the way she deserved to be loved, and he’d thrown it back on her. He’d known she was scared, known it from the beginning and pushed her anyway. He’d wanted her and he’d gone after her, so sure she’d be better off with him than without. Intent on making her want him as much as he wanted her. He took a deep breath and put his forehead against the brick wall. Like Abby’s wall. He’d been determined to go over it. Not caring that she felt safer hiding behind it. He rested his head against the brick, glancing down. Pieces of his shattered cell phone

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lay scattered at his feet. Calling her with that was out of the question. — “More, peeze,” Charlie said from the table. He’d already eaten his weight in pancakes this morning. “Okay, one more.” She kissed his syrupy cheek. Abby’s eyes blurred with fatigue, not tears. Because she hadn’t cried. But that didn’t change her routine. She still got up, still made breakfast and lunches. Put on a smile. Pretended to be happy. She braided Annie’s hair, making sure it was extra neat the way she liked it. The uniforms were freshly ironed. The lunches made extra special. That’d been her secret to holding herself together: keeping it together. And not caring. She had rules about that. She’d just forgotten them for a while.

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It was Charlie’s day to go to school and there was a lot she could do. Jack needed new cleats, and Gracie’s tights had a snag. She could always use more casseroles in the freezer. With the new baby, she’d need easy dinners. Good. That was her plan, her task for the day. But Matt’s words slipped in. God forbid you admit you need me? He’d almost sounded hurt. But that was after he’d said it wasn’t working, wasn’t it? The conversation continued to repeat in her head like a broken record, as it had all night. With her guard down, the L word swirling around in her mind and heart, sitting on the tip of her tongue. She’d reached out to him with the phone call—not a natural instinct for her. Better to keep to yourself. Safer to be an island. It’s who she was, what she knew. She took a breath and lifted her chin. Just a few months ago it had been enough, and it would be again.

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An hour later she sat in her car, cradling her Starbucks. She’d dropped the kids off at school and gone for a pre-errand-running boost. Her doctor had said limit caffeine, not cut it. Angie had made her promise not to push Matt away, and then he’d pushed first. She’d worked hard her whole life not to let that happen again. Yesterday she’d thought Matt was worth the risk. She’d been so sure he loved her. So sure that she’d wanted to tell him she loved him too. And that would be okay with you? Of course not. Of course it wasn’t okay with her. And that’s why she pushed. As a child it had been the only means of defense she had, but—did he really think she didn’t care? She stared at the phone in her hand for several seconds. She could call him and say…what? That she was hurting? That it wasn’t okay? But it wasn’t working for him.

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He’d been clear enough. She dropped the cell into her cup holder. Forcing her mind on a grocery list, she pulled into traffic. Cheese sticks, peanut butter, bread. She approached an intersection and slowed at the light. Merchants in the adjacent strip mall were wasting no time, already decorating for Christmas. She’d probably find holiday music too. She flicked a glance in the rearview mirror as she reached to turn on the radio, then a quick look again. A small silver car was coming up behind her. Too fast. Way too fast to stop. He was going to hit— The sound of impact reverberated through her body. A split-second flash of the dashboard. Her head hit the steering wheel and then…nothing. — “How far along are you?”

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Abby felt the words shouted at her, then her body being moved from one gurney to another. The next time she opened her eyes, she squinted against the bright lights overhead. She lifted a hand to her head, but someone stopped her. It felt wet. She wanted to wipe it. “Abby, you were in an accident. You’re at St. Michael’s Hospital. How far along are you? Who’s your obstetrician?” She lifted her hand again. There was something over her mouth. “It’s okay. That’s oxygen.” But they were asking her questions and she couldn’t talk. “Is there someone we can call?” Matt. Tears slid from her eyes into her hair. She needed Matt.

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— A red turkey feather ticked around the clock on his mother’s kitchen wall, marking the minutes until the AT&T store opened. He was able to switch SIM cards with a friend so he could pull up Abby’s number and had come here to use the phone. He’d hoped maybe his parents would be out, that he’d be able to avoid discussion. No such luck. His mom bustled around the kitchen. “Can I fix you some breakfast, honey?” “No, thanks.” “You don’t look too good, son.” His dad joined them, a slight grin on his face. Zero sympathy. “I’m fine.” He’d had more than usual to drink last night, but that’s not why his head hurt. “You haven’t heard from your friend?” His mom set a glass of iced tea in front of him. “I’m sure she’s nice, Matt. I don’t doubt that

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she must be for you to be so taken with her. You want to help her and that’s admirable, but, honey”—she pulled out a chair and sat across from him—“what about your own family?” His own family? His mom could not have chosen a worse time to have a talk about Abby. “I just don’t want to see you miss out on starting at the beginning. Getting married, having children.” “What are you saying? You think because her husband died she should be alone? Do you think Elizabeth should be alone the rest of her life if something happened to Paul? Should Nathan grow up without a father?” “Easy, son.” His father stepped up, laying a hand on his mother’s shoulder. “We’re not saying anything negative about Abby, so don’t get your back up.” “No, of course not.” His mother looked from him to the shredded napkin in her

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hand. “I just want you to be happy. You’ve been away for so long. If you’re ready to settle down…” Matt rubbed a hand over his face so his mother wouldn’t see the fury in his eyes. Afraid he couldn’t hide his emotions, he rose and walked outside onto his parents’ deck, making a conscience effort not to the slam the door behind him. The wide expanse rolled out before him: the browning grass; the maple trees with only a few leaves left, desperately hanging on. One less, he thought as a bloodred leaf fell to the ground. The whole scene was made even more depressing by the gray sky and damp air. Exactly like he felt. Dark and damp. His father stepped up beside him without saying a word. Matt leaned his forearms against the railing and hung his head in defeat, the weight

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of his words heavy. “I may have blown it, Dad.” Anthony Senior was silent. It wasn’t the military that had taught Matt the art of quietly waiting people out. It was his father, and he applied it now. Matt would have to remember that when Jack hit his teens. If he was around to see it. “I was an ass the last time I talked to her. She’s just so damn independent. Is it wrong to want her to need me?” “I wouldn’t say it’s wrong.” Which didn’t tell him what his father would say. His mom and dad had come home every day like clockwork. Unlike Abby, Matt had never worried even once that they wouldn’t. Or that one day they might leave him. He looked over the yard, so full of memories. The tree fort he’d built with his dad and brothers still stood. How many times had Abby built her life around

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someone only to have it come tumbling down? “She’s so afraid.” He shook his head at his idiocy. “She didn’t have the best childhood. Her parents died when she was young. She glosses over it, but she was tossed around, never stayed in one place too long.” And the way he’d turned it back on her made him sick. “That’s tough.” Matt looked at his father. “She’s never had anyone that stuck, you know? Her husband was an ass. Always put work first.” He stopped at the knowing look on his dad’s face. “I don’t know what to do. I made a promise to someone and it feels wrong to break it.” He turned back to the space below, his mind wobbling between T dying on the ground and the look in Abby’s eyes right before he kissed her goodbye. “But…I don’t want to live without her.”

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“You may not want to. The question is can you?” His dad went back inside, leaving him to his thoughts. Matt followed a few minutes later, walked to the counter, and kissed his mom’s cheek. He knew she worried, that what he did, being in the military, weighed on her heart. Even so, she handed him a cookie like he was a child with a skinned knee. “You act like I’m doing her a favor,” he said quietly, “when it’s the other way around. It’s me who’s had an empty spot”—he gestured beside himself—“not her. Abby won’t keep me from having a family. Without her, there won’t be one.” — Matt worked all day, throwing himself into the house. He’d gotten his new phone and had already made ten or so calls to no

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answer. Chances were her phone was dead. He wanted his to be the first call she heard when it came back to life. With his mind elsewhere, he painted half the hall bathroom before realizing it wasn’t the same color he’d started the project with a week ago. After that, he hammered his thumb pounding the lid onto the wrong damn paint can. He continued to call, left more messages, and worked on tiling the bathroom most of the night. He had a bad feeling. Would she completely ignore him? It wasn’t unusual for her not to answer her phone, but…Something was wrong. More wrong than him just being an ass. He was still awake when the sun came up, and with every hour that passed, that feeling grew. Tony, Beth, and the kids came by and invited him to ride over to his parents’ for lunch before his niece’s dance recital. Siccing the kids on him was low, but no way could he

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say no to the repeated “Peeze” from his doeeyed niece. He and Tony waited for lunch the same way they had as boys, throwing the football in the backyard. A nice ritual, but it didn’t take his mind off Abby. His messages sounded frantic even to his own ears. His thoughts abruptly ended when Tony’s pass hit him on the side of the head. “Sorry, man. Gotta keep your eye on the ball.” His brother didn’t look sorry. Matt pulled out his phone to make sure he hadn’t missed any calls. “Still haven’t heard from her?” Matt shook his head, studying the phone. Are you kidding? “Piece of sh*t’s not even working!” He chucked it at the nearest tree with deadly aim. Tony laughed. “Dude. You need to chill.”

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Matt didn’t feel like chilling, but he did pull himself together before going to his mother’s table. Damn it. If he had to sit at AT&T all day tomorrow to make sure his service was connected, he would. As soon as they sat down to eat, the kitchen phone rang. The same phone with the curly cord that had hung there his entire life. “Hello?” Tony answered. Matt continued eating, half listening to the long, drawn-out story his niece was telling. He nodded, though he couldn’t understand half of what she said. “That’s no problem,” Tony was saying. “Actually he’s here. I think he’s been trying to call you.” Matt met his brother’s eyes, then switched his attention to the phone in Tony’s hand. He slowly pushed his chair back and stood. A look of concern came over his brother’s face. “Are you okay?”

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Matt stepped in front of his brother, his entire body rigid. “Give me the phone.” Tony took the phone away from his ear and held out one hand. “Give me your keys.” Matt went for the phone, but Tony held it out of reach. “Tony, I swear to God—” “Not until you give me your keys. You’re not running out of here in your current state.” Matt dug into his pocket, slammed the keys into Tony’s open palm, and grabbed the phone. “Abby?” “Hey. I had a little accident. I’m in the hospital, but I’m—” All he heard was “accident” and “hospital” and he lost it. “You didn’t think I would come? Abby, I’ve been going crazy!” Did she not think he even cared enough to want to know she’d been hurt? “I’m okay. I—” “You didn’t call me? Jesus, Abby.”

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“Stop yelling at me!” sh*t. Was she crying? “I’m sorry, baby. I’m not yelling. Don’t cry.” He forced out a shaky breath and glanced over at his family sitting around the table, listening to his every word. Beth sent him a look, eyebrows raised in warning. Facing the wall, he spoke softly into the phone. “Are you sure you’re okay?” “Yes.” “Okay, baby. I can be there in two hours, maybe less. Don’t do anything. Don’t go anywhere. Don’t even get out of bed.” He made eye contact with Tony, who gave him an Understood nod. “I’ll be there in two hours,” he repeated. “I love you.” He hung up and took a breath. His first in twenty-four hours. It was only half a breath, though. He’d take a full one when he held her in his arms. His mother looked concerned—about him or Abby, he couldn’t tell. “Give me my keys. I need to—”

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“I heard. I’ll drive you to the hangar, and I’ll call Vance. Same guy who took you last time.” Matt was out the door before his brother finished talking.

Chapter 29 “Damn it!” Matt hit the dashboard of Tony’s Tahoe hard enough to make a cracking sound. “Hey! Easy on the car, bro.” “Sorry.” He closed his eyes. “Why was she driving around? I told her to relax and rest when the kids were at school.” “And she didn’t listen to you? Man, that is a problem.” “Shut it. I don’t need your smart-ass comments right now.” “Come on, brother. Pregnant women can drive. And shop,” he added with a knowing glance. Matt stared straight ahead, his mind running wild with what-ifs. She’d said she hit her head. He brushed off injuries all the

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time, but this was Abby. He wasn’t brushing off anything. “All right. I know you’re worried, but from what she just told you, she’s fine. She was able to call and talk, so she must be doing okay.” “Maybe. I guess. Get Beth on the phone for me, will you?” “Sure thing. Why listen to me?” After talking to Beth the entire ten-minute ride to the airstrip, he felt marginally better. But the fear still ate at him, twisting his gut. The thought of her in pain. Alone and scared. So scared she’d called him, even after he’d undoubtedly hurt her just as badly with his careless, angry words. “There’s Vance,” Tony said, pulling his car in. Matt got out and started toward the plane, then stopped and turned back to his brother. “Thanks, man.”

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Tony pulled him into a guy hug. “No problem, little brother.” Tony slapped his shoulder. “Just try not to say anything royally stupid. I don’t know how much more I can take of your girly mood swings.” Matt strapped into the two-seater and drummed his fingers against his leg while Tony and Vance exchanged words. Come on. Vance gave up trying to talk after the first five minutes of the flight. Matt couldn’t talk and he couldn’t help the thoughts rising up in his mind even as the bile rose in his throat. What if she’d died? What if he was going to bury her and get the kids? Or bring her body home to Virginia so he could be near her? What if he hadn’t brought Teddy back to be buried? Would he have kept his promise not to quit if T had lived? Or would he have told his friend they had to live their own lives? Make their own choices? Would Teddy have understood?

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Matt and Vance arrived at the Raleigh airstrip in forty minutes, no problems. The guy was a good pilot, even if he didn’t look old enough to drink. He’d barely cut the engines before Matt thanked him and took off to rent a car. Matt reached out to take the keys from the rental agent, but before they landed in his hand, they were snatched by someone else’s. “I’ll take those.” Vance. Matt turned to the guy. With mocha skin and a baby face, he stood almost as tall as Matt. “Look, man, I appreciate your help, but I’m in a hurry.” Vance just smiled. “No can do. I need this job.” Matt gave him a look like What the hell does that have to do with me? “Your brother gave me strict orders not to cut you loose until you reached your final destination.”

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“Are you f*cking serious? What does he think I’m going to do?” “Probably get to your girl as fast as you can without thought to anything or anyone else.” Matt strode toward the row of rental cars. He didn’t have time to argue. “Just think of me as your driver and pretend you’re more important than you really are.” Matt slammed the passenger door. “Just drive.” It was probably a good thing Vance was driving. When they hit a traffic snag on the 440, Matt yelled at him to use the gravelly highway shoulder. Vance ignored him, remaining calm and cool all the way to the hospital. When they got there, Matt hopped out, leaving Vance to park the car. He followed the labyrinth of hallways and corridors, trying to match the colored floor tiles to the

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color-coded maps hanging intermittently on white cinder-block walls. “Abby Davis,” he said, when he reached a nurses’ station. A big woman with gray hair looked up from her computer screen and raised an eyebrow. Okay. Maybe he spoke a little too loud. “Abby Davis,” he repeated, softening his voice. “Please.” “I’ll be with you in a minute.” He drummed his fingers and looked up and down the hall, estimating how long it would take to throw open every door until he found her. He was highly motivated and bet it would take less time than the nurse’s I’llget-to-you-when-I-get-to-you minute. “Ma’am, if you could just check the room number for Abby Davis.” No answer. Great. “Excuse me. Did you say Abby Davis?”

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Damn it. Should he scream it again? What the hell was wrong with these people? Matt turned to the voice behind him, determined to get answers, and— sh*t. Not a doctor. At least not the kind he wanted. William Stafford looked like a tall, tan surfer dude stuffed into a pink carnation. He stuck out his manicured hand. “Hi. I’m Dr. Stafford.” “Yes. I remember.” Matt took his hand, wanting so badly to crush it. “It’s good that you’re here. Abby was in an accident.” He was so close to hurting this man. “I know that. What room?” “She hit her head hard enough to lose consciousness. That was the main concern. When she came to, she had trouble breathing,” William went on. “They’ve kept a close eye on the baby, of course. The biggest

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concern was oxygen deprivation due to Abby’s stress…” Lost consciousness. Trouble breathing. Oxygen deprivation. He wanted to hit someone. The guy in front of him looked good. Matt gave a quick glance toward the Chatty Cathy nurse. sh*t. Not even there anymore. He could hop over the counter. Ask the computer. “She’s been here over twenty-four hours,” William said. Direct hit. Score one for the doctor. “I’ve been here the whole time. She’s been well taken care of.” Matt just bet he’d taken good care of her. And would no doubt like to continue. He stepped close. “Let me make this real clear, in case I didn’t before. Abby is not yours. She will never be yours. Because she’s mine.”

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The asshole took a small step back. Yeah, you better back off. Vance stepped closer, as if to remind Matt he was there and, per his brother’s orders, babysitting him. “Room number,” Matt growled. He was one second away from using some SEAL tactics to get the info he needed. “Her doctor said she could go home today,” William said. “If she has someone to take—” “She does.” “Thank you,” said Vance, the voice of reason. “Do you happen to know what room?” Speak up, asshole. Before I kill you. “You didn’t have to be so damn nice,” Matt said, striding down the hall, feet pounding like his heart. He scanned the doors for numbers, pausing when he reached Abby’s. He blew out a breath. Be calm.

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Without knocking, he opened the door and saw her lying on white sheets, her face turned toward him. Her eyes were closed, lips slightly parted. A white strip of bandage wrapped around her forehead. Was she pale? He took a step forward on shaky legs. Her eyes opened and he could see the bright brilliance that always shook him. Or maybe he was just shaking. “Matt.” Before she could utter another word he was there, cupping her face in one hand, his other covering her belly. She was warm. Check. Breathing. Check. “I’m okay.” Vance cleared his throat. “Uh, I’ll just wait outside.” Matt ignored him and tried to cool the burn in his gut as he sat on the edge of her bed. Even though he felt her stomach hard

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and round beneath his palm, he had to ask. “The baby?” She smiled, though her lips trembled. “Fine. I hit my head. That’s all.” “What happened?” With his hand not quite steady, he brushed the hair back from her forehead, the knot evident and infuriating. “Somebody hit you? Were they drunk? Do they know—” “Matt.” He was gathering steam, more than happy to have anger replace fear. “It was an accident. I don’t need you to be angry. I just need you.” Whether it was the wreck, the emotion of saying the words, or both, Abby’s eyes filled and so did his. He gathered her into his arms and held her as close as he could. The clutch of her hands at his back emphasized her words. She needed him.

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“It’s okay.” He tightened his hold, not saying how terrified he’d been. Not telling her how he’d played it out in his mind a thousand different ways. Picturing her alone, calling for help. Thinking what if she’d been hurt worse. What if the kids had been hurt. What if they’d had to take the baby early and he hadn’t been here. “The kids?” “Are with the babysitter.” “I’ll get them.” She nodded into his shoulder, and he smoothed her tangled hair, slowly easing her back against the pillows. His heart nearly stopped at the look in her red eyes and tearstained face. And he was reminded of the pain caused not by a stranger and a car but by his own careless words. “Abby.” He took her hand between both of his and brought it to his lips. “I’m sorry. What I said to you—”

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“No.” Had he really lost her? He wouldn’t accept that. “Abby, I tried to call you, and when I couldn’t get you…” He shook his head. “I lost my mind, smashed my phone. I called. I left messages—” “I know. I heard them.” “Well, then you know it was wrong. I was wrong.” “No,” she said again, shaking her head. “I do push. I push people away, before they—” She broke off, and a single tear escaped and ran into her hair. “I don’t want to push you away.” “You could never push that hard, baby. Never.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek, then her eyes, where he tasted hot tears, then her lips. “I do need you. So much,” she said on a shaky breath. “My heart hurts from it…like all the air is sucked out of my lungs and…”

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“Shh. It’s okay.” His own eyes burned because he knew the feeling so well. “I didn’t want to need another person so much that I couldn’t live without them. Do you understand?” Hell yeah, he understood. More than she knew. “That will never happen, baby. You’ll never have to live without me.” Unable to resist another second, he kissed her. It was meant to be a soft one, just to reassure, but she held him to her. Her mouth, warm and moving against his, did a lot to ease his mind. “I’m beginning to believe you’re okay,” Matt said, raising his head. “I told you I was. They only kept me overnight because of the baby and…What? What’s that look?” “Where did you get those flowers?” “Oh. They’re from William. You know, from school.”

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“Yeah. I know.” Damn the man. That’s the second time. “I just had a little talk with William in the hallway. I don’t think you’ll be getting any more flowers. At least not from him.” He said the last bit against her lips, then kissed her again long and hard. When he pulled back, he took a second just to look at her. There were still things to say, to explain. “Abby, when I said it wasn’t working, I didn’t mean—” “Time for a blood pressure check.” Great. Chatty Cathy busted into the room, paused to give him a disgusted look, and then went about her work. He had no choice but to get out of her way. “When can she go home?” Nurse Ratched glared at him. “Dr. Henderson is making rounds down the hall.” Matt returned to Abby’s side when the nurse moved out of his way.

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“He should be here shortly. He’ll probably release you today,” she said to Abby, as if she had asked the question. Abby’s brows pinched in worry. “Why don’t you get the kids, then come back for me?” “You sure?” “Yes. I’m fine.” Matt kissed her head. “All right then. I’ll be back soon.” “Matt?” He paused and looked back. “I l—” “Raise your arm, hon.” The nurse went about removing the IV. Matt winked at Abby from the door. “I know.” She loved him. He’d already known it, but still. He smiled all the way to the car. —

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Matt tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and waited for a light to change. He was more than anxious to get to the kids, picturing them scared and confused. I should have been here. He and Vance pulled up in front of the student housing two blocks from the college campus. Abby’s Suburban was parked on the street. The large dent and busted taillight made him wince. Should have been here. He’d barely taken three steps when the front door of a tiny house flew open and Gracie and Jack barreled toward him. Matt squatted down just in time to catch them and pull them in. A second later Charlie reached them, pushing his way in and almost toppling Matt onto his back. They were all talking at once about cars and crashes and Mommy. “Mommy got cut wike me,” Charlie said, pointing to his forehead.

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When they finally settled down enough to take a breath, Matt stood to introduce them to Vance. Then he saw Annie, standing rigidly on the sidewalk beside a young blond woman. Had he ever seen Annie without her neat braids? She looked younger, and lost. He took a few steps toward her and saw she was shaking with the effort not to cry. “Annie.” He held out his hand and waited. She took a tentative step forward, then another, and suddenly she was running toward him, her wild hair blowing out behind her. He went to his knees and caught her to his chest, feeling her little arms wrap around his neck, her legs around his waist. And his heart strained under the added weight of Annie’s sobs against his neck. “Shh. It’s okay now. It’s okay.” She was hysterical and it was disconcerting to see her like this. He could barely understand her through the crying.

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“Mommy was hurt. D-didn’t know where to f-find you.” Her words were choked and catching in her throat as she struggled to talk and suck in bits of air at the same time. “I’m here now.” He held her tightly, rubbing her back and hating himself more every second. “It’s okay now. Mommy’s okay.” He tried to wipe the hair out of the way so he could see her face. His little princess with the weight of the world on her shoulders, her heart so full of worry. Her sobs and sniffles slowly subsided, but her grasp didn’t loosen. He stood with her still clinging to him and walked to the young woman who’d stepped up and helped when he wasn’t here. “Hi. I’m Matt.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Meredith. The babysitter.”

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“That’s Meredif,” Gracie said, taking his hand. “She takes care of us good, but I wanted you.” He gave Gracie’s hand a squeeze. “I see you got the car. Thank you.” “The accident happened right in front of the school and it didn’t need to be towed. The school called me. I’m listed as the person to call in an emergency.” “Well, I can’t thank you enough.” Charlie was climbing up his leg, so he let go of Gracie, grabbed him up like a football, and headed to the Suburban. Gracie and Jack followed. Meredith walked over with two small bags as he buckled everyone in. “I hope Mrs. Davis is okay. I can help out more after next week, after exams.” “I’ll tell her. Thank you again.” “Lead the way and I’ll follow you,” Vance said as Matt slid behind the wheel.

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— Matt had sent Vance on his way with the rental car several hours ago. It took some doing, but he’d finally convinced Abby to relax in a bath and let him get the kids fed and bathed by himself. Her phone rang as he came in from taking out the empty pizza boxes. He saw the caller’s name on the screen and answered. “Hello?” “Hi. This is Angie, Abby’s friend. We met—” “I remember. Abby’s taking a bath.” “Good. I talked to her this morning, so I know she’s okay, thank the Lord. Now I want to talk to you.” Abby’s friend did not sound happy. “Okay.” “I’m going to be up front with you because my kids will find me in the closet any second. You don’t deserve her. And before you get all

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bent out of shape and say I don’t know you, you’re right. I don’t. But no one deserves Abby. There’s not a sweeter, more loving person—” “You don’t need to tell me that.” “Well, I’m going to, so you can listen. She had a really sh*tty childhood and then a sh*tty husband, and I suspect I don’t know the half of it. I wasn’t Josh’s biggest fan. In fact I told Abby to divorce his ass when I found out she took a cab home from the hospital after giving birth to Annie.” At those words, Matt pinched the bridge of his nose, resisting the urge to slam a fist into the wall. “And do you think she complained about it? Ever said a word against him? No, she didn’t, and do you know why?” No. He couldn’t imagine why she didn’t ask for more. “Why?”

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“Because she’s used to it. She expects it. She pushes people away rather than have them in her life and then deal with the pain she knows will come when they leave. But, God knows, she’s so in love with you she can’t even protect herself.” He heard the tears in her friend’s voice. “So, if you don’t plan on sticking with her, then I’m asking you to let her go.” “Not going to happen.” “If you hurt her, I will try my best to kill you. I know you’re a special black ops secret agent man and all, but I promise you, I can do some damage.” “I believe you. And I can promise you, you won’t need to.” Matt hung up, glad for Abby’s friend, her loyalty and love. Abby deserved it. But did he deserve her? He’d told himself he didn’t have a choice, but that wasn’t true. You always have a choice.

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He’d been dumb enough to think loving her was enough. It wasn’t. Not by a long shot. He’d convinced himself he didn’t want to quit, that he couldn’t, but everyone had seen through it. Tony, his CO—everyone except Abby. She’d never even considered the possibility that he would choose her. If he’d met her before T died, he wouldn’t have considered anything else. Did Teddy see it? If he were here now, would he say “Forget your promise”? And if he’d already known Matt was getting out, what had he meant? If Abby had died, Matt wouldn’t have given a sh*t about anything, about any promise past or present. He stared at his cell. He had other calls to make.

Chapter 30 Abby stood in front of her dresser, watching the man she loved move toward her in the mirror. “Hey. How do you feel?” “Fine. You survived.” “Yep. Almost turned into the Battle of Waterloo, but I prevailed. How’s the head?” He leaned down and laid a gentle kiss to her temple. “Fine.” She swallowed, a million wings beating at her stomach. Her head was fine, but her heart felt sick. She’d told Matt she needed him and it was the truth. But it wasn’t the whole truth. And there was a look on his face now that made her even more nervous. “What’s wrong?”

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“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. But we need to talk.” He sat at the foot of the bed and pulled her down beside him. He took her hand in his and looked down, then back up to meet her eyes. “Abby, when I said it wasn’t working, I meant I wanted more time, not less. So…it’s not all ironed out yet, but…I’m leaving the team.” What? The bottom dropped out of her stomach and her fingers tightened around his. That’s the very last thing she’d expected him to say. “Matt…I know you were scared, but—” “Yeah, it scared the sh*t out of me, but that’s not why. Look at me, baby.” With a finger under her chin, he raised her face a fraction higher toward his. “I meant it two days ago, before you were hurt, and I mean it now. I want more. I need more.” She shook her head in disbelief as her mind reeled. He was dangling what she wanted so desperately right in front of her,

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asking her to reach out for it, to trust it wouldn’t disappear. He was walking away from his team? He couldn’t mean it. She didn’t want to let herself believe it. “But you love being a SEAL.” “I love you. What will it take for you to believe that?” Abby stared at their joined hands, and everything she had with him, everything they had together, rushed through her with a terrifying force. The more you have, the more you can lose. “I believe you. That you love me, but…” “But what?” He took her chin again, forcing her to look him in the eye. “Is this because of Josh? Because you can’t compare us. I won’t be compared to him,” he said sharply. “Abby, I know you’ve been hurt before, but you have to know they didn’t really love you. Not like I do.” Her heart fell at the truth of it. “I know that.”

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“I’m sorry.” Matt brushed a hand over her hair and softened his voice. “I didn’t say that to hurt you.” “No, you’re right. None of them did, but…my mother…I think she loved me. I—” “Of course she did, honey. I didn’t mean that, not about your mom, but she died. I know it was hard, but that doesn’t mean—” “No.” She shook her head. She hadn’t lied to him, but there was lying by omission and it felt like a lie. He was talking about giving up everything he loved, and he didn’t even know the truth. She hadn’t wanted him to know. But that wasn’t fair. He had to know everything before he made a choice. “You should know the truth.” Abby looked into his confused face and felt a cold sweat break out over her skin. She hated to think it. Never said it. “Before you change your life, you should know. I…My mom—she didn’t get sick like I told you.”

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She rose from the bed and moved to the dresser before he could touch her, because if he did she might fall into his arms and never get the courage again. “Abby?” She didn’t answer as she opened her jewelry box and lifted the top compartment. In the hidden bottom she had the hospital bracelets of each child, the rosary from her first communion, and a folded piece of paper. She hadn’t looked at it in years, not since Annie was born, and she couldn’t say why she’d looked at it then. Maybe because it’s a day a girl wants her mother. With shaking fingers and an even shakier heart, she pulled it out and turned to face Matt. He sat on the edge of her bed, a questioning look on his gorgeous face. She took a deep breath and forced it out. “You asked me once to tell you something no one else knew. The thing is…no one knew any of the things I

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told you.” Her gaze fell to the carpet. “You probably don’t even remember, but—” “I do,” Matt said. She looked up and met his eyes—soft, honest. “Every word.” He took her hand and tugged until she stood between his knees. “Blue. March third. Real tree. Princess Leia. Lucky Charms in your closet.” A small, sad smile formed on his lips. “Of course I remember, baby. I remember every damn second I’ve ever spent with you.” Everything inside her expanded and melted. Her eyes burned, but she pressed her lips together, like that would keep her heart together. Matt tried to pull her closer, but she shook her head and held the wrinkled paper out between them. “Something no one knows.” He took the note. She was thankful for the blur of tears providing a protective haze from

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his expression when he read the words that had shattered her life. The paper rattled softly as he unfolded it, still not letting go of her hand. He’d see the words she’d memorized. The ones that played over and over in her mind, mixing with the fresh scent of blood, swirling around her mother’s lifeless eyes. She was sorry. She loved her. But it wasn’t enough. “I found her. In the bathtub. She was…in the blood. There was so much and I…I didn’t know what to do.” “Jesus.” Matt pulled her against him, as if he could shield her from the memories. But he couldn’t, no more than he could go back in time and shield the child she’d been. “I didn’t know what it meant for a long time. I just knew she was gone. By the time I was eight, maybe before that, I understood. She did it on purpose.” He pulled her fully into his lap and touched his cheek to hers. Minutes passed,

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wrapped in his arms, as he refused to allow any distance between them. She took a trembling breath and pulled back to meet his eyes. “Don’t you see? She loved me and I wasn’t enough…I wasn’t—” “No, baby. That was her, her choice. It wasn’t because of you. Never because of you.” He held her and she settled into him more deeply, fighting against herself to believe his words. — In the darkest hours before dawn, Matt lay next to her, stroking his palm over her hair, letting the strands fall over his fingers like dark water. He thought about the note from her mother, the pain that had hung thick in the air as she’d handed it to him. Her voice thin, like a child’s. Trying to be so strong. She was strong. She’d held it together alone

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all her life. He’d hold her together now. If she’d let him. He’d read the note twice more, letting the words sink in. Abby’s mother hadn’t just died. She’d left her. Brutally. Leaving Abby not just alone, but with a gory vision of death. She hadn’t just been orphaned, she’d been abandoned. First by her mother, then over and over again. And now he understood. Abby wasn’t just afraid he would leave her. She didn’t think she was enough to make him stay. But she was more than enough, he just had to make her believe it. He curled his body around hers, hurting with her and for her. Their week at the beach seemed like a lifetime ago. If Rob hadn’t twisted his arm, he might have walked the earth his entire life and never found her. Not something he wanted to imagine. He should send his cousin a bottle of Crown. He smiled at the thought and at holding Abby’s naked body against his. He

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checked his watch and his smile faded. The joint operation that had been in the works for months was finally on. He’d been contacted an hour ago. Regardless of his decision, he was still an active-duty SEAL. When he got back he’d tell the guys he was leaving the team. Most would understand. Some would never understand an able man walking away from being a SEAL. He knew that. Was prepared for it. And they didn’t have to. He might not ever feel completely released from his promise to T, but he’d come to terms with it. If T had lived, Matt would have left the navy for Abby without hesitation, and he believed in time Teddy would have understood. Or at least accepted it. He had to believe that. Not everyone wanted to die on the battlefield. Teddy had. Matt didn’t understand it, but maybe he didn’t have to. He looked at her again. He’d made arrangements to go directly from the airport to

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the base, skipping a run by his house, allowing himself an extra few minutes next to her. Well worth it. Lying here these last few hours, he’d been thinking about taking Abby and the kids home with him for Thanksgiving. The possibility had grown by the second. Tony could fly here with the new jet he was so proud of. She could stretch out. Beth could come too, standing by as obstetrician, just in case. Once he got her on his home turf, he’d be one step closer to keeping her. He would battle her fears and he would win. Holding himself above her, he bent to run his lips lightly over her face. It was selfish to wake her just to look in her eyes one more time, but he couldn’t help himself. She stirred, blinked. Emerald eyes stared up at him like lights in the darkness. “Sorry. I should have let you sleep.”

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“It’s okay.” She turned, sliding her hands around his neck, and stopped, that emerald light dimming just a bit. “You’re dressed.” “I have to go. I have to be at the base at 0800.” He wished he could tell her the details, but it wasn’t allowed, so he gave her what he could. “I won’t be able to talk much.” Her smile was a little shaky, her eyes a little too bright. “I want you and the kids to come to Virginia for Thanksgiving. I’ll work out all the details.” And he’d make an appointment to finalize his future. “Will you come?” The significance of bringing a woman home wasn’t lost on him, and it wouldn’t be lost on his family. The shocked look on Abby’s face told him it wasn’t lost on her either. He smiled and kissed her once more. “Stay here. It’s cold out.” —

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Abby stared at the ceiling, listening to Matt’s footsteps, her mind reeling. Go to Virginia? Meet his parents? His entire family? He loved her. He knew everything now and Matt loved her. She’d done well not to cry. It wasn’t good for her to be bawling every time he left. She didn’t want him to worry. She wouldn’t cling to him, wouldn’t beg, but she did love him. And she hadn’t told him. Now he was leaving. She threw back the covers, pulling the quilt with her. She hadn’t said it. She hadn’t told him. Moving as fast as she could, she went to the front door. He might have gone out the garage, but this was faster. Plus he had to drive by the front of the house to get to the street. Her hands searched the entryway table for the key. No time to turn on the lamp. Where the hell was the key? Got it. She dropped it twice before she got to the door.

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She turned the lock and flung open the door, barely remembering to grab the quilt she’d dropped from her shoulders. The stone steps were like ice under her feet. The red taillights of his car shone at her like a big, bright NO. It wasn’t like she could run after him. Too late. She was too late. Tears slipped from her eyes and she shook from the cold. She wrapped the quilt more securely around her and looked down the driveway. Still red lights. And a dark figure coming up the drive. “Abby?” At the sound of his voice, she began to cry in earnest. “Honey, it’s freezing.” His arms were around her and the painful squeeze on her heart made it hard to get the words out. “Baby, go back inside.” She shook her head.

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“Honey, you’re killing me. Please don’t cry. I’m coming back. I promise.” But she wasn’t crying because he was leaving, though it did hurt to say goodbye. She cried because she loved him, the emotion so powerful she couldn’t contain it. “I love you.” Matt pulled back but kept his hands around her upper arms. “I love you.” She said it over and over, making up for each time she’d held it in. Matt stopped her with his mouth, hot and hard. She clutched at him, dueling to control their kiss. The only thing holding the quilt was Matt’s hands on her back, and when he slid them to her bottom, the quilt went too. Standing on her front porch naked and crying, and she’d never been happier. “I love you.” Matt lifted his head from the kisses he was raining along her shoulder. “Yeah. I got that.” He smiled that smile that had captured

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her heart months ago. She wanted to grab him and hold him and keep him from leaving. “You need to get inside.” When he had her inside the doorway, he kissed her one more time. Then, with his hand on her belly, his eyes met hers. “Take care of my baby. And her mother.”

Chapter 31 Sixteen days later Matt parked his rental in front of Abby’s house. The front door flew open before he cut the engine and it was like a replay of that day at the sitter’s. He got out, knelt down, and braced for impact. Charlie hit first, tightening his little arms in a choke hold around Matt’s neck. The others followed in a soul staggering pile. How could he have ever thought anything was more important? Abby, the kids? There was no other choice. He stood, munchkins hanging on his body like moss on a tree. And then he saw her. Standing in the open doorway, even more beautiful than the picture he’d carried in his mind. Sixteen f*cking days. Hadn’t held her soft body against his. Hadn’t touched her silky hair or looked into her angelic face.

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“This is my brother Tony,” he told the kids without taking his eyes from hers as he set Charlie on his feet. “You can call him Uncle Tony.” Then he was walking. Every cell in his body preparing to connect with its other half, his eyes adjusting to the sight of her after being without for too damn long. Knee-high leather boots and tights covered her legs, and a knit wrap dress hugged her curves, accentuating her pregnancy. She’d grown, or the baby had. Her dark hair blew loosely around her face and shoulders, and the closer he got, the wider her smile. So sexy, so sweet, and so very much mine. He took the front steps two at a time and then he had her. In his arms, in his life. Mine. Her arms came around his neck in a death grip and she trembled against him. “Never again,” he whispered into her hair, her neck. “Never again will I be away from you like that.” He kissed her jaw, her cheek,

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then pressed his lips to hers. She smelled like heaven and like his life, his Abby. At the sound of his brother clearing his throat, Matt lifted his head and sighed. He wanted to snap his annoyance, but he couldn’t kiss her the way he wanted to anyway, not with the kids running circles around them. “That’s my brother Tony. Tony, this is Abby.” She swiped at her wet face and gave his brother a watery smile. Introducing her to his brother gave him an overwhelming sense of pride. She was nervous and teary and so beautiful he wanted to stop time and spend a minute, or twenty, just taking her in. Tony stepped forward and kissed her cheek. “Nice to meet you, Abby. Beth’s looking forward to meeting you too, but she stayed at the airport to see an old college friend for lunch.” “Oh, that’s nice. I’ll see her soon, then.” Abby ushered them into the kitchen. “I didn’t

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know if you guys would be hungry, so I made some lunch.” “Wook, Uncle Tony, I can twirl.” Gracie showed off a new powder-blue tutu. They all followed the twirl while Jack and Charlie clambered for Matt’s attention. Annie had hugged his neck, then disappeared. “I’m almost packed. Help yourself while I finish,” Abby said, pointing out the plate of sandwiches and cookies on the island. “I can be ready in ten minutes and the kids’ stuff is by the door.” She darted around the kitchen, grabbing kid cups and putting out a bag of chips. “I want a cookie, cookie, cookie,” Gracie sang as she hopped and spun around the grown-ups. Matt stopped Abby’s hand as she reached high into the cabinet for a glass. “Go on. I’ve got this under control.”

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She glanced around at the chaos, then flicked an unsure look at his brother. “Oh. Okay then. I’ll be quick.” He watched her go and got that crazy falling sensation in his stomach for the tenth time today. He was taking them. With their bags of belongings, he was taking them home like he’d dreamed of doing since he’d stood on that beach three months ago trying to figure out how he was going to say goodbye. And now, if things went as planned, he’d never have to say goodbye again. “Duice, peeze.” Charlie stood by the table cramming a piece of sandwich into his mouth. “She’s nice,” Tony said, leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. Matt glanced up from the dishwasher, where he was grabbing a clean sippy cup for Charlie. “She’s more than nice.”

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“Yes, she is, but I didn’t think you’d appreciate me pointing out all of her obvious virtues.” Matt picked up Charlie and went to the refrigerator for the orange juice. “You’re right about that,” he said, smiling at his brother. Tony eyed him moving around the kitchen, pouring juice, putting a little sandwich on a plate for Gracie. “You look good here,” Tony said. Matt eyed his brother. “I am good here.” Jack ran back into the room. “Matt, can I bring my football helmet?” “How about if I let you use mine? It’s at my mom’s and we’re going there today.” “And we’re going to eat turkey?” Matt ruffled Jack’s hair. “The turkey eating will be tomorrow.” “Okay,” Jack said and went to return his helmet.

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“Does Abby know you’re taking her to stay at your mommy’s?” Asshole. Too bad he couldn’t say it out loud. “Abby knows my house is a work in progress and isn’t a good place for kids to run around.” Matt put Charlie down at the table with his drink and another sandwich. The boy could eat. “How’s the family?” Tony knew exactly what he meant. He was worried about their opinion of Abby and especially his mother’s reception. At least Tony was on his side. He’d be damned before he let anyone make Abby feel uncomfortable. She’d never had a family. He wanted to give her that. He wanted to give her everything. “Mom hasn’t said anything, at least not to me.” Matt stopped what he was doing at the counter. “Let’s hope she doesn’t. Because if I have to choose”—he looked right at his brother—“it’ll be Abby and the kids every time.”

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Annie walked up with her hands behind her back, a shy smile on her face. She’d gone back to her quieter self around Tony. Matt knelt beside her. “Hey, princess, what do you have?” She pulled out her hand. His dive watch, too big to fasten around her arm, much less her tiny wrist, but he’d left it with her last time. A kind of tangible guarantee of return. He took it, and before he could thank her for keeping it for him, her arms were around his neck. “You came back,” she whispered. “You kept your promise.” “Always. I’ll always keep my promise, because you’re my princess and I love you.” He kissed her head and she took off up the stairs. Matt smiled after her, his heart warm. “I’ll just go see if Abby needs any help packing.”

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“Right.” Tony gave him a knowing smile. “Help her pack. You have ten minutes.” Matt walked toward Abby’s bedroom, a grin on his face. He could do a lot in ten minutes. His body ached for her and no way in hell was he waiting until tonight. He reached the entrance to her room. She stood facing the bed, putting last-minute items into her suitcase. Amazing. You couldn’t even tell she was pregnant from the back, and her dress hugged the curve of her mouthwatering ass. She glanced back over her shoulder and met his eyes. Matt recognized the flare of heat as she watched him close and lock the door. They came together somewhere in the middle of the room, a desperate battle of mouths and hands. Dear God, he’d missed her. Abby strained toward his kiss, like she was starved and he was the only sustenance she needed. Her hands gripped his shoulders,

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fingers digging into the muscle, then moved to his neck and into his hair. “I need you,” he said against her mouth. He backed her up until her legs were against the bed, turned her to face it, dying to be inside her. Abby pulled her hair to the side, giving him an invitation. And he took it, running his tongue along her throat, taking his time. She tasted like cookies. He could do this forever and it wouldn’t be long enough. Her arms reached back to wind around his neck, holding him, encouraging him. He scraped his teeth, nipping at the junction of neck and shoulder, knowing it made her squirm. Like she did now, wiggling and pushing her bottom against his erection. Placing a line of hot kisses, he made his way back up, stopping just below her ear. “I missed you.” His hands moved slowly down her arms, over her breasts, and around her

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waist. It felt like a basketball now, ready to pop at any minute. “Are you okay to—” “Yes. Please.” Her voice was thick with need. She dropped her hands from his neck and ran her palms down the outside of his legs. Fighting to go slowly, Matt inched a hand up her side until he cupped her breast while the other moved up her thigh, raising her dress higher with it. He went even harder when his fingertips found skin between the tops of thigh-high tights and the edge of lacy panties. Hell. Ten minutes was never going to be enough. Abby dropped her head back against his chest and moaned when he pulled aside the V-neck of the stretchy wrap dress to expose a satin bra. Her breath came faster when he rolled her nipple through the silky fabric. When he pushed past the lace and found her warm and wet against his fingers. His own hunger built until he reached his limit.

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“Put your hands on the bed.” Matt freed himself, got rid of the panties, and brought them close together again. So close the satin skin of her bottom caressed his thighs. She was fully clothed except for that and the sight of his hands on her milky white cheeks could make this over in seconds. He leaned in to bury his face in her hair. “I love you.” He said it again as he slid into her from behind and moved with slow, shallow strokes. With her hip clasped in one hand, his other snaked around to find her breast. His blood hummed and vibrated, his heart swelled. There had never been sex like this. Not the kind that blew his mind right out of his skull. Partly because she made him hot just thinking about her. But even more because he loved her so damn much. And she loved him. He could feel it in every inch of her body, and he wanted her love more than he wanted

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his next breath. That connection was new for him—making love, being in love. He hissed between his teeth when she pushed back against him, begging for more, her heat drawing him deeper. And the second he felt her tighten around him, he let go. As soon as he could, he straightened and pulled her up with him, holding her close while they caught their breaths. “I can’t be without you like that again,” Matt said into her hair. Abby turned in his arms and ran her hands up to touch his neck. “I love you.” She said it three more times, as if now that she’d finally let the words pass her lips she couldn’t say it enough. He wasn’t complaining. Damn, he was happy. It was almost too much, so he bent his head and took her mouth again in a long, slow kiss.

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When they finally parted, he took one hand from her back and checked his watch. “And I have a minute to spare.” “What?” “I told Tony I was going to help you ‘pack.’ ” He made air quotes with one hand. “He gave me ten minutes.” “You did what? Are you telling me I just met your brother fifteen minutes ago and he knows we’ve been in here having sex?” Her voice rose a couple of notches at the end. “Well, he knows we haven’t seen each—” “I’m not going to be able to look him in the eye when we leave this room. You know that, right?” “Honey, he’s married and I’m pretty sure he’s familiar with the act.” “I don’t care. I bet they don’t have sex with someone standing a few feet outside their bedroom door, knowing what they’re doing! What if he tells your mother?”

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Uh-oh. Her voice was doing that rising thing again. “Okay. What if I hang my head and look pitiful, like you turned me down. He’ll rib me mercilessly and I’ll suffer silently to protect your virtue.” Her lips turned up at his attempt at a pitiful expression. “You couldn’t look pitiful if you tried, and if you do that I’ll look like an uptight prude.” Matt thought about what was under this nice dress, and his dick stirred. She was so not prudish. He tried to hide his laugh at her little pout by pulling her close. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing my room is far away from my parents’, because I am going to have your soft little body snuggled up close to mine for the next four days, and I don’t care who’s in the next room.”

Chapter 32 Matt led Abby up the sidewalk to a red brick two-story house surrounded by mature trees and manicured bushes that softened the edges and added color. He carried a sleeping Charlie while keeping one hand firmly on the small of her back. Jack was still firing questions at Tony about airplanes and Gracie was talking Beth’s ear off. Annie had a death grip on Abby’s hand. Abby could relate and she hesitated three steps from the front door. This was big. This was huge. This wasn’t just bringing a woman home. This was bringing a hugely pregnant woman with four kids home. What if they thought she’d gotten pregnant after Josh died? What if they thought she was a skan*y ho trying to trap their son? Or what if his parents just wanted their son to have his own children?

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As if he’d heard her thoughts, Matt pulled her closer against his side. “They’re going to love you. Stop worrying.” He gave her an extra squeeze and a swift kiss on the side of her head. But she was worrying. She couldn’t help it. Like she’d told Angie, she’d never been taken home to meet the family, hadn’t been the kind of kid to get invited over to other people’s houses. Another first with Matt. The front door opened and a tall, grayhaired man stepped back, ushering them inside. “Hey, Dad,” Matt said. He clapped his son on the back. “Come in, come in.” They piled in out of the cold just far enough for the front door to close, then stopped in the entryway. The warmth and aroma of baking assaulting her. She recognized the man from Matt’s photos and the

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woman Matt kissed on the cheek as his mother. “I better check on my little hellions,” Tony said. “They’re angels.” Matt’s mother kissed Tony and hugged Beth as Beth slipped by to follow her husband. Everyone belongs here but you. “You must be Abby,” Matt’s father said, leaning to kiss her cheek. “I’m Anthony. We’re glad you could make it.” He stepped back and gave her a long look. “You know what they say about Irish eyes, don’t you?” The flutters of nerves made it hard for her to speak. “Um, no, sir.” “A woman with Irish green eyes has a heart of gold.” She barely had a chance to digest his words before he introduced his wife. “This is my wife, Margaret, Matt’s mother.”

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His mother was of medium height with light brown hair and brown eyes she felt certain were sizing her up. “Call me Marge. Everyone does.” She was polite enough, but no kisses on the cheek like his dad. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you so much for having us.” A look passed between Matt and his mom and she patted his cheek lightly. Abby couldn’t read the meaning, but Matt didn’t seem bothered by it. She hated how much she wanted his mother to like her. It was foster home tryouts all over again. “And who’s this little one?” “This is Charlie. He’ll warm up in a bit,” Matt told his mom. Charlie was awake now but hiding his face in Matt’s neck. Matt took his hand from Abby’s back, leaving a cold spot. He draped his arm around Annie, and she clasped his hand tightly to

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her chest with both of hers, like a security blanket. “I’m Jack, but my real name is Jackson. Or you can call me Jackson Moore, but that’s only if I do something really bad, but I’m not, because I’m ’spose to be very good on this trip.” Abby hoped her pasted-on smile didn’t waver. Please don’t let me need to use that name over the next four days. Matt’s mother knelt in front of Gracie and Annie. “Hi, girls. I’m Matt’s mother.” “I’m Gracie. My panties says I’m four, but I’m not. I’m fwee.” Gracie looked right at Matt’s mom. “What does your panties say?” Mortified, Abby held her breath until everyone laughed. Okay. Breaking the ice. That’s good. “I was just about to roll out some cookie dough. Would you two like to help me?”

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Gracie couldn’t have been more excited, and she eagerly took Marge’s hand. “Everyone calls me Grandma, so you do the same.” Gracie gazed up, giving Matt’s mother a smile that could tame a lion. “I wuv having a grandma.” Marge offered her other hand to Annie. “No, thank you,” Annie said, and melted farther into Matt’s side. “Are you sure? I have some ready to decorate too.” Matt cupped Annie’s cheek, the one not plastered against his thigh. “I think she’ll hang with me, Mom. Maybe later.” Good Lord, I love this man. They moved into the great room, where a crowd had gathered. Most likely waiting to see what Matt had picked up at the beach. Damn, she wanted Matt’s hand, but Annie

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didn’t look like she was letting go anytime soon. “Jack,” Matt’s dad said, “all the boys are down in the basem*nt setting up the train if you want to go.” “Can I?” Jack said, looking up at Matt. “Sure, bud. It’s right there.” Matt pointed to a door leading to the basem*nt and Jack was gone. “I’m surprised that old thing’s still running.” While they talked trains, two women introduced themselves. “Hi. I’m Lizzy, Matt’s sister. I’m sure he’s told you all about me.” “Oh, he has,” Abby said nervously. “I was joking. I’m way too smart for my idiot brother to understand.” “I heard that,” Matt said. “I’m Sarah, Patrick’s wife.”

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Matt moved close to Abby as he continued the introductions. She tried her best to remember names and match faces. She was hugged and offered food and drink. The men came up from the basem*nt, greeted Matt and kissed Abby on the cheek. Matt pulled his hand away from Annie to shake hands and slap his brothers on the back, then took Abby’s cold hand and squeezed. Matt’s mother had disappeared into the kitchen. Because of me? “Don’t worry, honey, you don’t have to remember all the names. They all answer to ‘dumb’ or ‘dumber.’ Or their number. I’m number two.” “Don’t forget who’s number one.” Tony walked in from the kitchen, holding up one finger. “Like you’d ever let us forget,” Matt said.

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It was nice the way they laughed and teased each other. Charlie began taking peeks but hid whenever someone spoke to him, making a game of it now. After a few minutes, Matt insisted she sit down and put her feet up. Beth backed him up. “Doctor’s orders. Come on.” She led Abby to a forest-green couch and pulled over an ottoman. “It’s a good idea after the plane ride.” “I’m fine, really.” “Don’t be silly,” Matt’s dad said. “We pamper all the pregnant women.” “And we take full advantage of it, since after the birth all the attention shifts to the baby,” Lizzy added. Abby had no choice but to sit. Matt joined her on the couch with Annie squeezed between them. He kicked back and stretched his arm around them both. “See,

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I’ll even put my feet up too. Just to make you feel better.” “Right,” his sister said. “You’re all about the sacrifice.” “Yep, that’s me. Could you get me a beer while you’re up?” “In your dreams,” she said, but Abby noticed she brought him one when she came back from the kitchen. The grayish-blue walls were covered with framed eight-by-tens, yearly family photos, faded except for the bright smiles. A basket of toys sat next to the fireplace, beside it a giant turkey nutcracker, minus an arm. Newer pictures in silver frames crowded the end table. She snuck a glance at Matt. He was happy here, at ease. He knew about family; they all did. In that regard, she was the odd man out. But Matt’s fingers making lazy circles on her shoulder helped.

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Family members came and went from the kitchen, bringing drinks and small plates of finger food. They sat around in chairs or on the floor. Abby felt uncomfortable just sitting here, letting people bring her things, but Matt insisted. Gracie returned from the kitchen covered in flour and carrying a large plate of cookies. “Did you make these?” Matt asked, stuffing a sugar cookie into his mouth. “No, Grandma made them and dere’s wots more. Annie, you should help us. And you know what else?” she asked, eyes wide with wonder. “Dere’s a cousin.” Abby caught a couple of quick looks passing between Matt’s family. She wondered what he’d told them about her background and thus her children’s lack of extended family. It didn’t make sense, but it was hard for kids going through the system not to grow up thinking there was something wrong with them, something about them

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that had caused them to not have a family like everyone else. Something that made them unwanted. Until now. Matt gave her neck a squeeze, and without looking, she smiled. Matt wanted her. Marge came in carrying a huge platter of more cookies and other yummies, followed by a little girl Abby assumed was the cousin. “Hey, Louisa.” Matt grinned at his niece. “Don’t you want to give Uncle Matt a hug?” “No,” she said, with a pouty face. Tony looked over. “She’s still mad you wouldn’t let her paint that wall.” Matt grabbed his niece into a hug with one arm anyway, making her squeal. “Don’t let that girl near paint,” Beth said. The adults ate, drank, and watched football while the kids played upstairs and down. Matt’s mother still hadn’t said much. Maybe

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she was just busy. Or maybe she was disappointed with Matt’s choice.

Chapter 33 Thanksgiving lunch was followed by the serious business of the annual Thanksgiving football game in the backyard. As always, the score was tied at halftime since his mother was the referee. Matt, with Charlie and Gracie perched in his arms, passed Andrew on his way into the house. “Hey, man,” Andrew said. “Hey, short stuff. You want a cookie?” Gracie beamed at Andrew, then at Patrick and Tony all standing around the kitchen. Matt set the kids down and grabbed their little coats, hanging on the kitchen chairs. “Where’s J.T.?” Matt asked. “Our team needs a quarterback. A good one,” he added with a smirk at Tony.

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“Whatever. You couldn’t catch a jar of honey if I put it right in your hands.” Gracie looked up at Tony. “Why would you frow a jar of honey?” “He wouldn’t,” Matt said, zipping her up with a grin. “Too heavy for him.” Gracie ignored the banter and bit into her cookie. Matt laughed. He’d missed this, being with his brothers. “Okay, all done,” he said to the kids. “You need your gloves?” “No,” and they were escaping out the back door, cookies in hand, before he could ask again. “You know J.T.,” Patrick said. “Doing his usual escape and evade.” Matt straightened. “Really. Well, I think I can win that game.” “You sure you want to? That kid is too cool for his own good.” Yeah, Matt thought as Patrick opened a beer and passed it to him. He was sure.

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“At least he’s not still whining about a rematch,” Tony said, looking at Andrew, referring to the Pictionary battle the night before. The one in which Matt and Abby had kicked everyone’s ass. “How the hell Abby got Santa Claus out of that jagged half Christmas tree you drew is beyond me,” Patrick said. “I’ve been married six years and still don’t know what the hell Sarah’s thinking half the time.” “sh*t. I’ve been married ten years.” “And the best you can draw is a stick man,” Matt said, smiling. “Maybe I’m just gifted with a pencil.” There was the smallest of pauses, four brothers thinking the same thing. Because there was one brother who really was gifted with a pencil and he was the only one not with them on this holiday. Then the moment passed, each of them knowing there was nothing they could do. Tony eyed him. “Anyway, I don’t think it’s your drawing skills.”

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No. It wasn’t. “You’re f*cking smitten,” Andrew said. “Look at him. You can see it in his eyes.” Matt downed his beer. “You guys are worse than your wives.” Who along with his sister had already told him how lucky he was and warned him against being stupid. Yep. And the grins on his brothers’ faces made it clear he wasn’t the only one smitten. “You’re a lucky man,” Tony said. “Just don’t screw it up.” “I don’t plan to.” There was a scream from the backyard, followed by a chorus of whiny cries. “Damn. That’s mine. Better go supervise.” Tony finished his beer and the guys headed out. “Sounds like we’re raising another competitive generation.” “Exactly how it should be.” Tony slapped Patrick on the back. “Minus the crying loser.”

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“f*ck you.” Matt laughed and veered off down the hall for a quick pit stop. He almost ran over Abby coming out of the bathroom as he was going in. Well, well, well. He’d just take advantage of this. “Hey,” she said, smiling when his arms came around her. “Hey,” he replied, backing her into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. He needed her. Or at least a taste. He turned her to face the mirror and stood behind her. He loved her body, the curves of her breasts, the baby inside her. And he loved this dress with its very enticing buttons at the top. “Did I ever tell you I had a thing for buttons?” “Do you?” After three buttons, she sighed heavily and let her head drop back. He let his fingers roam. “I love looking at you.”

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“I have a hard time believing you’re attracted to this.” “Believe it,” he said, nuzzling her neck with his lips. “I’m huge.” “You’re beautiful.” And she wasn’t huge by any pregnant standards. Not that he cared. He raised his head so that his cheek was against hers and looked at them together in the mirror for a long moment. He loved her so much, for a second he could understand her fear at the enormity of what they had. It was awesome—as in, he was in awe of it. Of her. And one word came to mind. Irreplaceable. That’s what she was. Reluctantly he buttoned her back up. “What were you thinking about earlier? At lunch?” She scowled at him and he knew it wasn’t so much because he’d asked but because he’d noticed. Still trying to hide. “You okay?”

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“Yeah. I just…smelled something and for a second…” Their eyes met in the mirror. “I couldn’t tell if it was a memory or not. Of my mom cooking. I’m sure she did, but I don’t…” She shook her head. He’d thought a lot about Abby’s memories of being left, being hurt. He hadn’t thought much about the lack of happy ones. He would help her make a million. He kissed her cheek. “My parents love you, by the way,” he said against her neck. “I told you they would. You didn’t have anything to worry about.” Abby covered his hands with hers. “I was more worried they wouldn’t love me with you.” “Abby.” “Well, it’s not every day your son brings home a woman already pregnant.” “At least my mom doesn’t have to worry I’ll knock you up.”

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“Ha-ha.” He moved her hair out of the way so he could find skin. “I’m not at all worried, but it doesn’t matter. It’s you and me, babe, all the way. Nothing will change that.” She wanted to believe him. “Stop it.” Matt’s voice was soft but firm. “Stop thinking about what could happen and hear me. I love you, and nothing and no one could keep me from you.” He kissed the side of her head, then her neck until she shooed him out. She didn’t want his mom walking in on a kissing session with her son. And she needed to go to the bathroom. Again. — Abby dried her hands on a small towel appliquéd with a turkey. Her hand was on the doorknob, already turning it, when she heard Marge’s voice and it was too late to stop the

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motion of her exit. Did his mother know Matt had been in here with her? “I just wanted Matt to have his own family, to be happy,” Marge said. “I know, Mom,” Lizzy was saying. “I wanted the same thing.” Abby froze in the half-open doorway and stared. Matt’s mom and sister stared back. Oh, God. His mom was…crying? This was worse than she thought. So much worse. Lizzy gave Abby a warm smile and squeezed her arm before returning to the family room. Speechless, Abby watched Marge dab at her eyes. Matt’s mother didn’t want her. She’d made his mother cry. But she wouldn’t give him up without a fight. She couldn’t. Marge regained her voice first. “Oh, Abby.” Abby lifted her trembling chin. “I know you love your son, and you want the best for him. I do too. I know you think he could do

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better than a girl nobody wanted. Trust me. I’ve thought the same thing a hundred times.” Don’t cry. She trusted Matt and he loved her. “But Matt’s smart. He makes good decisions, good choices. I know he could have anyone he wanted, but he chose me. And I’m not going to walk away unless he tells me to.” She felt a hot tear roll down her cheek. She couldn’t help it. She did want Matt’s mother to want her. Marge pressed a clean tissue into Abby’s hand. “Are you finished?” Abby wiped her eyes, her lips pressed together so tightly she could only nod. “There’s a light in Matt’s eyes that I’ve never seen. And you put it there. I knew right away his feelings for you were different from any he’d ever had before. He fell in love with you before I even met you, and…” Marge dropped her eyes to the mutilated tissue in

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her hands. “Well, I knew he would walk away from his family if you asked him to.” “What?” Walk away? Why would she ever want that? “All I ever wanted was for him to be happy, but, selfishly, I also wanted him close. You might think it’s silly—” “No.” Abby shook her head. “I don’t.” Marge reached out and touched her face, a mother’s touch. “You’re so lovely. I see that now. I’m sorry, Abby. Can you forgive—” “Abby?” Matt called from the kitchen, where he was waiting. “You okay?” Abby threw her arms around the woman. “I love you,” she whispered. And she did. For giving her Matt. For wanting her in their family. “There’s nothing to forgive.”

Chapter 34 Laying a hand on her contracting stomach, Abby pushed up from the bed slowly so she wouldn’t wake Charlie. Well, that was not the only reason she was moving slowly. She’d lain down with him as a ploy to get him to nap. Though she could’ve easily fallen asleep and probably slept until the next morning. But she forced herself to move. She wanted to help Marge get things into the oven. The family was coming over for leftovers and another round of games. She slowed her steps to study more pictures lining the hallway. Family portraits chronicled the addition of each new family member. Her attention was drawn by Matt’s voice coming from the open door of Mr. McKinney’s office, and she froze on the edge of the dining room.

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“No, sir.” There was a pause while the person on the other end of the phone spoke and Matt made a sound of agreement. It was his tone that made her hesitate, his words that stopped her cold. “I appreciate your faith in me, sir, and of course I’ll miss it.” A tremor ran through her body. “I don’t think— Yes. I understand, sir. I’ll think about it.” Every muscle in her body seized and she stood frozen to the spot as Matt appeared in the doorway. “Who was that?” He pressed a quick kiss to her lips and smiled. “You ready to kick some ass, partner?” “Who was it?” she repeated, trying to stop her body’s shaking. His face turned serious. “Captain Perry.”

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She tried to swallow. Calm down. Don’t jump to conclusions. “What did he want? Was it about another mission?” “He asked me if I would reconsider my decision until the spring, when they’ll have some new guys ready. I told him no.” Her shaking hand reached out blindly for a chair. “You told him you’d think about it.” “Abby—” “You’re thinking about it. You want—” He reached for her hand. “I want you. Look, we can talk about—” “No.” Blood pounded in her ears as she shook her head back and forth, making herself dizzy. “No, we can’t.” He was going to leave. She couldn’t breathe. Her heart raced and she couldn’t slow it down. Why was he so calm while she was a volcano of emotion rising toward a violent eruption? His face held nothing more than mild confusion.

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In a blink she was that little girl again, trembling under the hot sun, hands and knees scraped raw and bleeding where she’d fallen. Screaming in the middle of the road while the last people she’d trusted not to leave her, not to change their minds, drove away with their dog. No. She wouldn’t talk about it. She’d get down on her knees. Even though she’d sworn to never again beg anyone to stay with her, she would do it. She’d beg. “Abby, look at me.” She closed her eyes tightly against it, feeling strangely outside her body, all the fears she’d thought were gone overwhelming her. Choking her, squeezing to the point she struggled for breath, desperate to get away from it. Warm, rough hands gripped her face. “Honey, stop it.” Matt tightened his hold, giving her a little shake. “Look at me, damn it.”

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She opened her eyes and saw the man she loved more than she’d ever loved before. This couldn’t happen. She couldn’t let it. Do something. “Abby, baby.” He smoothed a hand lightly over her hair, voice soft, eyes full of concern, but they did nothing to slow her quick, shallow breaths. A car door slammed outside. She’d never wanted promises. They were always broken. But right now…that’s all she wanted. “Promise me.” The front door opened and voices drifted in. “Promise me you’re not changing your mind.” “Abby—” “Please.” She sucked in a breath, forcing herself to get out the words, as if what he said or didn’t say in this second would

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determine if she lived or died. “Please. I never wanted to…but…I am. I’m begging you—” “Honey, you don’t need to—” “Promise me!” Her voice rose, sounding hysterical to her own ears, as her fingers twisted the fabric over his heart. J.T. stopped in the foyer. “Promise you what?” His mother, coming to greet him, zeroed in on Abby. “What’s going on?” “Nothing. It’s fine,” Matt said. Matt pulled her into his arms and she dropped her forehead to his chest, her entire body shaking under his hands. She felt like an idiot, out of control, like maybe she was having a panic attack. “Promise you what?” J.T. asked again. Matt held her close with a hand on the back of her head and an arm around her shoulders. “That I’m not changing my mind about leaving the SEALs. And I’m not.” He

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said the last words against her hair, followed them with a kiss. “Well, praise Jesus,” Matt’s grandmother said, setting a plate of cookies on the dining table. “We’ll be right there.” Matt walked them into the bedroom, closed the door softly, and turned her back to the wall. “I’m sorry,” she said, her heart still beating wildly. Matt pressed his forehead to hers. “Shh. Take a deep breath.” He ran his palms up her arms and around her back, folding her into his protective hold, and the tension began to drain out of her. It was hard to be afraid, wrapped in Matt’s arms. “Your parents are going to think I’m crazy.” He kissed her head. “Nah. My whole family’s a little crazy, but look at me. I love you. I don’t want or need anything else.”

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Abby gazed into soft brown eyes, honest eyes. The idea of losing him scared the hell out of her, but she had to trust him or she was going to drive them both crazy. She did trust him. “I believe you.” Matt pressed his mouth to hers, kissing her slowly and gently. He sealed the promise he’d made with his tongue and lips, and her eyes filled with tears. She believed him. He was an honest man, a good man. And he promised. — Abby had spent the day shopping with the ladies and Matt was itching for time alone with her. He leaned in for a kiss where they stood next to his car. When he eased back, her eyes were still closed, a smile on her lips. “What was that for?” “Because I haven’t gotten any time alone with you all day,” Matt said against her

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mouth. “And because I love you. And…”—he pulled back and reached for the car door—“because this is a special night. Our first date.” “Well, on second thought, maybe I shouldn’t kiss you like that. It being our first date and all.” “Oh no,” he said, bringing her back into his arms. “It’s our first date and I intend to make the very most of it. That includes making out with my girl.” Matt took her to the nicest restaurant in the city, where he’d reserved a table overlooking Hampton Roads Harbor. The flicker of candlelight played across her porcelain skin and he spent the night gazing into the eyes of the woman he loved. He’d never been happier, never felt more sure, and more than anything, he wanted Abby to feel the same. After dinner, he drove back toward his parents’ but turned a few blocks short. “I want to show you something.” Matt parked

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in front of a large two-story house set back from the street in a cul-de-sac. The maples were bare now, but in the summer they’d provide ample shade and in the fall piles of colorful leaves. He walked her to the front door and led her into an empty foyer. “It’s beautiful.” Abby moved further into the house and inhaled the scent of fresh paint. It had that echoing feel of a large, empty room. “Did you work on this one?” “No. I just saw it for the first time a few weeks ago.” Abby stood at the wide glass doors leading to the deck. The backyard was large and backed up to woods. Beyond that was a park. “Well, it’s great,” she said. Moonlight streamed in through the line of windows and glass doors, landing on Abby like a spotlight. He watched her, standing in the glow. So perfect. She was everything he’d

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always wanted and never thought he would have. She loved him. And she owned him, body and soul. He wiped his sweating palms against his pants. “I hope you like it.” “Hmm.” She didn’t answer, just made a small sound, studying the landscape. “Because it’s a present.” He dropped to one knee and watched as she turned around. “An engagement present.” Abby took a slow step toward him, mouth open in shock, eyes so wide they were almost circles. He held out the small black box lined with velvet. His heart hammered and he said a quick prayer he would find the right words for the most important question of his life. “Abby, you know I love you. More than I could ever find the words to say. I love the kids like they were my own. I want to be the man who protects them, who keeps the boys away from Annie and kisses Gracie’s skinned knees. I want to teach Jack and Charlie to throw and

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catch and build forts. I want to teach them to be strong and honest.” He reached up and placed a hand over her belly. “And I love this baby that I haven’t even met, because she’s a part of you.” Abby covered her mouth with her hands and blinked her dripping eyes. “I want to go to bed with you every night and wake up to see your face in the morning. I want to share every minute of my life with you and hold your hand when we’re old. Abby, I promise to take care of you, to love you and be faithful to you every day of my life.” He took her hand in his. “Will you marry me?” His blood pulsed in his ears as he waited between heartbeats for the most important answer to the most important question he’d ever asked. Abby swiped at her cheeks, smiling down at him. “Yes. Yes.” He let out a nervous breath and slipped the two-carat, square-cut diamond he’d so

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carefully selected onto her finger. He stood and framed her face with shaking hands, knowing he’d never forget this moment. The kiss started out damp and shaky, because she was still crying. A few of the tears might have even been his, but he kissed her with all the love in his soul. Their tongues danced around each other and within seconds, slow and gentle turned needy and desperate. Their hands and mouths roamed, always craving more. He was just about to do away with her thin sweater when she jerked back. He gave her a hot look, thinking she was about to strip it off herself. But her eyes were wide, and both hands were on her stomach. “Matt. I think my water just broke.”

Chapter 35 Matt paced the labor and delivery room between contractions, his step as sharp as his voice. “Where’s the doctor?” He raked his hands through his hair and Abby relaxed as the last one tapered off. “Why is she in pain?” Matt didn’t even notice the amused look the nurse gave him. “Well, she is having a baby.” “Why the hell does it have to hurt? This is a hospital, damn it!” “Matt,” Abby said softly. “Come here.” He was by her side instantly. “You need more ice chips?” He reached for the cup, digging in with the spoon even as she shook her head. “I don’t think they know what they’re

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doing here. I should call Beth and maybe have you…What? Are you laughing?” “No, definitely not laughing, but I’m not moving. And it’s too late to call Beth.” She sucked in air at the start of another contraction. How did she always forget how much this hurt? The nurse from the end of the bed did a check. “It’s almost time to push.” She squeezed Matt’s hand. He’d been right beside her the past four hours, refusing to leave for even a second. He’d put the gown on her, helped her go to the bathroom, and double-checked her IV. She was surprised the nurses hadn’t kicked him out; probably too charmed by his handsome face than put off by his tough, commanding presence. She breathed through the worst of it. “I won’t be big anymore.” “I should hope not.” Matt grinned, stroking her hand.

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She felt grouchy. On top of being exhausted, hot, cold, shaky, and in pain. “But you’ve never seen the not-pregnant me. I’ll be all soft and my stomach will be squishy and—” “Abby, don’t start with trying to scare me away.” He trailed a hand up and down her arm in a constant, mesmerizing motion. She took a slow, deep breath. That’s what she focused on during the contractions, the sensation of his fingertips on her skin and the repetitive movement. She’d never been in this position before. On her back with someone leaning over her, stroking her, offering ice chips, at times looking as if he were in as much pain as she was. And she’d never had anyone around to see her body after a birth. She did pregnant well: small and cute. Afterward? Everything was soft and loose. Not so cute. Another contraction hit, and the devil entered her body. “I can say anything I want!

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I’m pushing something out of my vagin* that’s too big for what God intended!” Matt leaned his head down next to hers, breathing with her, feathering kisses along her sweaty hairline as the contraction passed. “Feel better?” “Yes.” “Good. And I don’t care what your stomach feels like. You’d still be beautiful to me if you weighed four hundred pounds.” Abby scowled at him. “Okay, that’s just a lie and—” “And I really think this baby wants to come out. Would you please push so I can hold my daughter?” “Abby,” the nurse said. “Get ready to push with the next contraction.” “It’s unnatural. It’s just a little place and— Ow, ow, ow.” Matt didn’t flinch or move away. She breathed, focused on his slow ministrations.

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The labor went fairly quickly after that. She pushed five times and their new baby girl entered the world. The tears running down Matt’s cheeks were as precious as her newborn’s cries. He didn’t even try to hold them back. The doctor held out the scissors. “Okay, Dad. You going to cut the cord?” Matt didn’t hesitate, or even look at her in question when the doctor referred to him as “Dad.” But his hand shook as he made the cut, and after, he buried his wet face in her neck. “I love you.” He kissed her head and lips. There was a moment when Matt held their daughter for the first time that she knew she would remember for the rest of her life. She loved her baby instantly, as she did all her children, but it was the look on Matt’s face as he cradled that tiny bundle that brought tears to her eyes. He couldn’t believe it.

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Which is what he kept repeating, staring into baby Mary’s tiny face. They were moved to a room filled with flowers: Pink and white carnations. Tall vases of elegant red roses. Giant arrangements of flowers she’d never seen, spilling every color over the edges of ornate containers. “You sent me flowers?” Matt smiled sheepishly. “I might have had something to do with it.” “I just can’t believe it,” he said again, sitting in a chair beside her bed, the baby in his arms. “I can’t believe she just…She was inside you and then she came out and…It’s just…” “Well, believe it. I can.” Abby shifted in the bed and he looked up. “You okay?” “Nice of you to notice I’m still here,” she said with a smile. She didn’t mind playing

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second fiddle to the baby. Watching him so completely captivated was incredibly endearing. “Sorry, baby.” He got up and sat on the edge of her bed. “Do you need something? Are you hurting?” “No. I’m fine.” She ran a finger over her daughter’s soft cheek. Swaddled like a burrito, five-pound-twelve-ounce Mary was only half the length of Matt’s arm. “I’m so proud of you,” he said, leaning down to kiss her. “Knock, knock.” The door eased open and the first face Abby saw belonged to Matt’s mother. Marge held Annie’s hand, followed by Matt’s dad, who held Charlie and Gracie in his arms. And the people just kept coming, until there wasn’t one square inch of room left. “Careful, now,” Matt’s dad said softly as he sat the kids on her bed.

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Matt held the baby for them to see, then turned to give Jack and Annie a look, introducing them all to their new baby sister. “Oh, Abby. She’s perfect,” Marge said, taking a peek. When she held her arms out, Matt pulled Mary back in, close against his chest. Marge gave her son an Are you kidding me? look. “Sorry, Mom. We’re, uh, not really letting anyone hold her yet.” Abby also gave him a look. “We’re not?” “Matthew,” Marge said, with a hand on her hip. “I know how to hold a baby.” But she didn’t press the issue, picking up Gracie and cuddling her close instead. “Congratulations,” Sarah said. “That’s right.” Patrick slapped Matt’s back. “Double congrats, brother. A ring and a baby in less than twelve hours. Well done.”

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Matt smiled proudly with Mary in his arms, showing her off to the crowd. And declined every offer to hold her. “Most beautiful baby born so far,” his dad said. “He says that about every baby born,” Beth told her. “But she really is perfect, Abby. How are you feeling?” “Fine, great.” And she did feel great. It hadn’t been a hard labor, and she could take a deeper breath than she had in weeks. It was liberating, but before she knew it, she was crying. All these people welcoming Mary, all this love. It bubbled up like a volcano until she was full-out shoulder-shaking crying. “Don’t cry, Mommy,” Gracie said. Matt was by her side in an instant. “I don’t know why I’m crying. I’m fine.” But the more Beth, Marge, and Sarah coddled her, the more she cried.

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Matt’s dad stood at the foot of her bed, holding Charlie. “We should go and let you rest.” He gave her foot a pat where it lay tucked under the covers. “Thanks for taking the kids, Mom.” Matt kissed his mother’s cheek. “Of course. They’re angels. Just like their mother.” Marge leaned down and kissed Abby’s cheek, then ushered everyone out. Matt carefully handed Abby the baby, then joined her in the bed. He cuddled up close, surrounding them both within the protective circle of his arms. They lay that way for several minutes, watching the tiny movements of Mary’s face. Her little squeaks grew into mewling cries of hunger. “I think someone’s hungry,” Matt said. “Guess I’ll have to share for a little while.” Mary had already figured out what to do. Abby sucked in a breath between her teeth at

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that initial sting of her baby latching on, then any pain she might have felt disappeared as she watched the pulling motion of Mary’s cheeks. Matt looked on, softly caressing Mary’s downy head. “That’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” he said softly. Abby agreed, but so was the man beside her. While Matt marveled over the baby, she marveled over him. This big tough man brought to tears over a baby. An elite soldier, the best of the best, and he was giving it up for her. Never in her life had she known it was possible to love someone so much. To want and need someone so much. But with deep love came deep risk. He’d been granted four weeks of leave, which would take him to the end of the year, then he’d receive an honorable discharge, and his life in the military would be over. He’d renovate and build houses, his feet never leaving the ground, his

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body never doing all the impossible things she knew it was trained to do. But the papers weren’t signed yet and leaves could be called in. She pushed hard against the faint, lingering insecurities, determined not to let anything overshadow this moment. Abby turned her head, her mouth finding his. Matt’s hand moved from the baby to cup the back of her head, and he kissed her with long, drugging strokes. “I love you.” Matt’s words were whispered against her lips, her cheek, her hair. She let her head fall back and closed her eyes, suddenly exhausted. “I love you too.”

Chapter 36 A ten-foot evergreen dominated the family room. They’d picked it out together, all seven of them, an adventure Abby wouldn’t forget, and it would forever be one of the happiest days of her life. The pine scent of the tree lot, the kids bundled and rosy cheeked, Matt sexy and strong in a pullover that hugged his wide chest as he wrangled the monster on top of the car. Their first tree. First Christmas Eve. First Christmas morning. And there was no rush, no pressure, none of the tainted feelings that came when you feared something was the last. The tree stood tall, covered in lights, popcorn strings, and kid-made ornaments. And hanging front and center was a porcelain heart, shaped from the abstract bodies of a

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man and woman. “Our First Christmas” was scrolled across the top. On the back, “The first of many. Love, Matt.” It symbolized more than his love. It was a hanging reminder of their future, and for the first time she wasn’t waiting for a good thing to end. She’d known Matt was a big kid at heart when he’d belted out the impressive Chewbacca impression, but at Christmas…the man was practically Saint Nick himself. Like he’d been storing up being a dad all these years. He snuck up to the attic every chance he got, putting dollhouses and race car tracks together. And he’d gone overboard on presents for all of them, especially her, knowing she’d never had much of a Christmas as a child. “Those look good.” Matt’s arms came around her as she stood at the counter, placing crab rolls on a plate. She leaned into him, relishing the feeling of being held by the man she loved. His heat,

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his hands, his breath on her neck. “They’re for the party.” “You know how my brothers eat. If I don’t get one now I might not at all.” He moved his hands lower across her flattening middle. “Mmm. You feel so good,” he murmured against her neck and kissed the spot he knew drove her crazy. “You felt good before, but now…How many weeks did the doctor say?” Her hands stilled on the plate. It was hard to think when Matt’s lips were…anywhere. “Six.” She tilted her head to the side and sighed at the feel of his lips and the knowledge they still had two more weeks to go. “Hey,” she protested when he reached around her and snatched two appetizers. “Babe, that’s diversionary tactics 101. Don’t take your eyes off the target.” He backed away, laughing as he avoided her hand. “I’ll look in on Mary before I leave.” “You’ve already checked on her three times in the last half hour.”

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“I know, but I’m ready for her to wake up. She sleeps too much.” Two hundred forty pounds of Matt cuddling almost seven pounds of baby was a sight. He was completely enthralled with his tiny new daughter, couldn’t get enough of her kitten sounds or miniature fingernails. Every time Abby saw him walking around with a flowered burp cloth on his shoulder her heart expanded to near bursting. He’d insisted from day one that he could change a diaper, saying if he could wire together explosives, he could figure out those little tabs. He’d been right. “You’re not going to hog her all night, are you? I really think your mom is starting to get her feelings hurt.” “My mom had her own babies. Seven of them. This one’s mine.” Yes. Mary was his. They all were. And he was theirs.

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“I think I’ll head to the base if you’re good here.” As if the holidays weren’t enough celebration, Matt was signing his final discharge papers today. “I’m good.” Matt lightly bit her neck, then covered the spot with his tongue. “Yes, you are. Very good.” Abby angled her head to meet his lips, and without breaking contact, turned in his arms, deepening the kiss. Matt’s hands slid to her bottom, pulling her flush against him—a fairly new sensation and one she’d never tire of. She looped her arms around his shoulders, then ran her fingers through his hair and felt him grow hard between her legs. They kissed and tasted, loving each other, everything in her heart settling just by being with him. A few more minutes of his mouth tangled with hers and he eased back, touched his forehead to hers. “If I don’t go now, I never

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will.” With one last kiss, he left the kitchen, grabbing another crab roll on his way. “Matt?” “Hmm?” “I love you.” He gave her a wink and she admired the view of his broad back and shoulders as he left, humming a Christmas carol. In three weeks he would be her husband. It was almost too much to believe. She had a life. She’d always had one, but since she’d been in this house, their house, it was like she had more of a life. Or she was more alive. December had flown by in a flurry of activity. She’d put her house in Raleigh on the market by phone, and Matt had flown back for a day to oversee the packing. The kids had attended two weeks at their new school before the holiday break. The same school as their cousins, the same school Matt had gone to. Marge had given her a picture of Matt at six years old, looking adorable in his St.

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Sebastian’s uniform, a replica of the one Jack now wore. Again and again, just when she thought she couldn’t possibly be any happier, she’d soar even higher. Giddy with happiness, she covered more platters with hors d’oeuvres and set a stack of dishes on the new dining room table. They’d picked out all the furniture for the new house together. Well, she’d pointed at what she wanted and Matt had nodded and ordered. Smiling at the thought, she began to hum along with the holiday tunes playing on the TV. She stilled her hands, smoothing the bright red tablecloth, and co*cked an ear. Yep. Baby sounds. Ah, she’d really hoped for fifteen more minutes, but when Mary was hungry, she was hungry. Matt would be disappointed he missed it. She grinned all the way to the nursery. —

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Matt parked his truck and started toward the side door of building C. Hopefully he’d get this wrapped up and be home in time to help Abby. He smiled, picturing the way he’d left her standing in their kitchen: lips damp, a light in her eyes, and his ring on her finger. She was his, and he was counting the days until he had it locked up tight and legal. He expected to feel at least a twinge of anxiety over this life-changing decision, but all he felt was peace. His life was taking a turn and he was flying around the corner, sprinting down the path. And Abby, the woman who held his heart, stood smiling at the end. Still part of a team, even if a different kind. He’d done some serious team leading yesterday, taking the kids to the mall. Just getting through the parking lot with all four of them was a tactical maneuver. Gracie and Charlie on each arm with Annie and Jack attached to his back pockets. But he’d gotten them all in

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and out safely with new shoes for the boys and tights for the girls. Mission accomplished. Matt made his way down the concrete halls, papers in hand, ready to trade the familiar smells of gun oil and flash grenades for baby powder and butt cream. Stinky men for his fragrant woman. A smile crept over his face. He was a blessed man. Never in his thirty-four years had he known a peace and happiness like the past thirty nights. Abby in his arms as he fell asleep, waking up wrapped around each other every morning. Raised voices jerked him from his thoughts as he neared the tactical room on his way to his CO’s office office. “We can do it, sir.” Rocky spoke in an icecold tone. “We’ll go in with a small detachment.” Matt stepped into the room. “What’s going on?”

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“Come in, McKinney,” his CO said. “We were just having a discussion.” Matt met Crawford’s eyes, then the others’ in the room. Six men, all standing, faces grim, like they were at a funeral. He zeroed in on Parker, still on crutches after knee surgery. Matt was almost afraid to ask. “Go in where?” Ten minutes later he’d been fully briefed on the situation. A young marine had been captured in hostile territory. And the enemy loved nothing more than dangling an American soldier to rally the people. They’d pinpointed his location and verified by satellite that the rebels had left the area. The rebels the U.S. military couldn’t attack due to bullsh*t policies and politics. Hank Holden, commander of SEAL Team 2, spoke to the room. “Our intel says they plan to execute the prisoner day after tomorrow at dawn in celebration of the clan leader’s birthday.”

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Corey laid out another plan. It didn’t fly. “You need at least two platoons to pull this off safely,” Bill said. “We’ll have four back here in a day. We’ll go then.” “This kid doesn’t have two days,” Corey shot back. His CO stared him down. “I’m not risking going into that hellhole undermanned. Good chance we’d lose the marine and all of you too.” Holden looked at Matt. “You’ve got onthe-ground knowledge.” “Yes, sir.” “And what do you say?” Matt’s CO answered the commander before he did. “McKinney is no longer active duty. Sir.” Something the commander would already know, Matt thought.

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Bill turned to him, the look in his eyes more of a friend than a boss. “You’re off the roster, McKinney. You’ve been replaced.” Matt looked down at the map spread across the table. Hellhole was right. Matt knew because he’d been there, on one of his earliest missions. And that had turned into a clusterf*ck of major proportions. The terrain was a bitch, the underground tunnels a labyrinth. On-the-ground knowledge added a hell of a lot. It shaved off time that might give this kid a chance—at life and at avoiding a fate worse than death. The same sick f*cks had recently dragged a British soldier through the streets behind a truck before beheading his dead and mangled body. No one wanted to leave this kid to the slaughter. They continued to toss around ideas, arguing about what could be done in the least amount of time with the least amount of men. “What about Jamison?”

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Holden asked. “If we had him and McKinney, that’s a solid squad.” Matt knew Jamison. He’d been in their platoon for a short time, before moving to Echo platoon after they lost two guys last summer. And pulling something together this fast it would matter. Everything mattered. Everyone in Matt’s squad knew where his head was. Bill, Decker, and Parker had all been to the house, met Abby and the kids. Hell, Decker had even changed a diaper. But if he didn’t go, no one was going. At least not now, and now was the only time that counted. Decker spoke up. “Jamison’s on leave. Headed west to visit family.” “But has he left yet? He might be slowed down by the same weather keeping the guys on the hill.” “Call him,” Holden said.

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The men around the table continued to shoot ideas and arguments for and against the mission like automatic fire while Matt stood to the side taking in the facts. The crushing weight of a decision began to bear down on him. They got word Jamison was in. He’d cancelled his trip and would be here in ten. Without looking up from the map, Matt felt every eye in the room on him. His CO was against it, but Holden, the commander of Team 2, was on board. “It’s your call, Senior Chief.” “Matt.” Doug shook his head. “You don’t have to do this. There’s still a chance for another team to go in.” But his friend’s eyes were anguished with the almost certain alternative. The chance was slim. Other teams would for sure try, and Matt knew they could be successful. But if the kid was already dead, it wouldn’t matter.

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The burn of guilt reared its ugly head for the first time in weeks. He’d come to peace with Teddy; he knew he was where he was meant to be, doing what he was meant to do. He knew one more thing for sure. If T were here, he’d already be out the door. Nothing would have stopped him. Maybe Tony was right about the guilt. Guilt for T dying. Guilt because Matt didn’t want to spend his life the way his friend had. If Matt could do this, if he could save a young man’s life the way Teddy would have… What would Abby say? What would she want him to do? “I need to make a call.” Commander Holden looked up from the call he was making, possibly to the president. “You’ve got two minutes.” Matt stepped into the hallway and tapped her name on his phone’s favorites list. He listened to the ring in his ear. Come on. Voice mail. sh*t.

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“Abby, it’s Matt. I need to talk to you. ASAP. Call me.” Holden stuck his head out the door. “If you’re going, you go now. You’ll have to hit it before dawn. You can make your calls from the air.” Matt moved down the hallway, mentally running the assault, planning the gear they’d need, and praying to God that he wasn’t losing one person to save another.

Chapter 37 For days Abby had cleaned the house. Top to bottom, corner to corner. Didn’t matter that it was new and didn’t need it. Every item in the house had a drawer, a box, or a shelf, and all of them were now labeled. There wasn’t a single thing left to unpack. Even the spices were lined up and alphabetized. But it was becoming more and more difficult to concentrate with her mind an emotional jumble. Matt was gone. While his family sat in their living room, she’d answered the phone call that had broken her heart. He was gone, left—another mission. The room had spun and darkened, her ears ringing as she listened to him say over a disconnecting, broken-up line that he was sorry, that it would be quick. Two days. He’d be back. He

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was sorry. She’d dropped the phone, stared wordlessly at her guests. There’d been no party. She hadn’t told his family about the messages Matt had left before she’d talked to him that last time. The ones she’d listened to over and over just to hear his voice. The ones that made it clear whatever he’d done, wherever he’d gone, it hadn’t been an order. It had been a decision. But he’d seemed content, hadn’t he? He’d bought three new properties to flip, been excited at the possibilities. Had she only imagined the happiness in his eyes? However much she wanted him back, would do anything to have him for one more minute, there was no question. The time had come when he’d had a choice, and he’d chosen to leave her. Relatives had popped in and out over the past ten days. Did they leave their jacket here? Could they borrow an egg? Did the

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kids want to go to a movie or come over to play? Marge came every day, saying she needed to see her grandbaby. Today it was Beth and Andrew’s wife, Meg, who’d come to look at the new playroom shelving unit. Though the entire time their worried eyes studied her, not the shelves. “I’m fine.” She pasted on her best smile and hugged her sisters-in-law goodbye. “Really.” “I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” Meg said, her eyes full of compassion. And Abby knew what soon meant, what was on everyone’s mind. Their wedding day was just over a week away. “Of course he will. Maybe tonight, even.” Abby made sure her mouth curved into a smile before looking away. “You know, I should get to the store. I don’t have anything for dinner.” They talked a few minutes about the trials of thinking up dinners and trying to get the

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kids to eat them before she walked the women out. When Meg was in her car, Beth turned to Abby. “Are you eating?” “Yes.” She was trying. Beth wasn’t buying it. “Abby, you have to eat. You have to keep up your strength.” “I know. I think I’m coming down with something.” Abby pleaded with her eyes for Beth to accept the lie. Beth walked to her car and reached to open the door. “He said two days.” She tried not to remember that part, but it was always there, beating at her until she was bruised. “Yes, but you know—” “Sure, I know,” she said too quickly. “It could always be longer. He’s been gone way longer than this, right?” Her smile wobbled. Beth nodded, her eyes bright with tears, and got into her car.

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Abby went back inside and walked to the nursery. She picked up the baby and went to the rocking chair, hugging Mary’s little body to her chest. She wouldn’t cry. There was no reason to. He’s coming back. — Days later, Abby came awake with a jerk and immediately looked over to the cradle to find Mary sleeping soundly. The screams had only been in her mind. Lying back in her bed against the pillow, she wiped at her face. The sweat and tears were real enough. She’d dreamed she was running toward Matt, but no matter how hard she ran, she couldn’t get to him. She ran and ran and ran, never getting any closer, always just out of reach. Then Matt disappeared and a giant black hole took his place.

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Bu the dream didn’t end there. She kept running toward that spot, wanting to fall into the hole, desperate to be swallowed up by its darkness. The dream mutated until she was watching the scene from above. The children were running after her, Annie struggling to keep up with Mary in her arms. Chasing and tripping, and crying out for her to stop, but Abby hadn’t looked back. Not even once. The vivid memory of the dream brought more tears to her eyes. They multiplied and slid into her hair as she lay, staring at the ceiling. Only a dream, but terrifying just the same. And the feelings lingered like a stain, covering the hope she’d been holding on to until she couldn’t see it anymore. Twelve days. He’s been gone twelve days instead of two. She glanced at the clock next to her bed: 6:19 a.m. and dark as night. She rubbed her fingers against her eyelids, attempting to

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erase the ugly scene. She slipped out of bed and into the bathroom. Flipping on the light, she took in her reflection. Not pretty. The combination of splotchy, crying eyes underlined by dark shadows. She hadn’t been sleeping, had barely been eating. Even the thought of coffee turned her stomach. And her bridal shower was scheduled for today. She had no idea how she would get through it. Even though she wouldn’t open gifts, she couldn’t, Marge was expecting her and the kids for lunch. She’d offered to hem the flower girl dresses for a wedding that was a week from today, or it was supposed to be. The knots in her stomach clenched. She needed to take a shower before Mary woke up, but her body made no move toward the goal. Her chin dropped to her chest and she searched each and every recess of her being for a bit of strength. Matt’s absence hurt, like a wound. It was exactly as she’d feared. That once she opened herself to the

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possibility, she would be weaker without him than she’d been before. She pushed away from the counter and turned on the hot water, leaving it up to the heat and steam to revive her. Abby pulled up to Matt’s parents’ house at 11:35. The driveway was already filled with familiar minivans and SUVs, so she parked on the street. She loved Matt’s family and the support that came with them, but was there really any point in hemming dresses for a wedding that wasn’t going to happen? Any point in this gathering? But she went through the motions, as she always had, painting on a smile any clown would be proud of. She made small talk with the sisters while avoiding the eyes of Matt’s brothers. Because they knew. The too loud exclamations that he was tough enough to survive anything. The hushed voices and quickly wiped eyes whenever she approached.

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She wasn’t the only one losing hope. One of Matt’s teammates, Dan Parker, who’d stayed behind had finally talked to her. And he hadn’t been encouraging, admitting that something had gone terribly wrong. Two helicopters had gone in; only one had come out. That’s all he would say. It was enough. Face the facts, little girl. People leave, always have. And they don’t come back. Every muscle ached, tense and tired from holding her body so tightly for so long just to keep from flying into pieces. But she smiled and filled her plate with food her stomach was too tied up to accept. After lunch, Marge continued the charade, marking and pinning the girls’ dresses. All she wanted was to go into a dark closet and hide. Scream. She didn’t want to be around people at all. The fact that it was supposed to have been a celebration leading up to the big day made it all the more unbearable.

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Her polite words to excuse herself and the kids were cut off by Gracie’s bloodcurdling scream from the backyard. Abby rushed outside, expecting blood, and found Annie holding one piece of a white wicker basket and Jack holding the other. Gracie, still wailing, stood to the side with a robin’s egg blue ribbon clenched in her tight fist and blowing in the wind. “She doesn’t need it!” Annie screamed. “Does too!” Jack screamed right back. “No, she doesn’t! You don’t need a flower girl or petals or any stupid basket when there’s no wedding!” Gracie’s cries of outrage changed to pure heartbreak as she dropped to her knees and crawled across the dead winter grass, gathering each pansy petal and clutching them to her heart one by one. Beth was there, kneeling beside Gracie, when Abby reached the yard.

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“I—need them— Aunt…Beth. I do and Annie says I d…don’t.” Gracie hiccupped every word to the woman who would never really be her aunt. “Of course you do, sweetheart. Here, put them in my hand and we’ll find you a new basket.” Tony went to Jack. “Come on, Jack Attack. Let’s go see if we can find some more of Grandma’s peanut butter cookies.” “No! I’m going to look for him.” Jack stood at the edge of the woods. “He’s lost and I don’t care if you help me. I’m gonna find him.” Annie stood alone, breathing hard, silent tears tracking down her cheeks. It was time to go. She couldn’t do this anymore. Taking the destroyed basket from Annie’s grasp, Abby laid it on the railing of the deck.

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“I’m sorry. I can’t,” she said, meeting Marge’s watery eyes. Matt’s mother grabbed her into a hug. “Don’t lose hope,” she whispered. “I’ll drive you home. Tony can follow with your car.” “No. Thank you.” “Sweetheart. You shouldn’t be alone.” Abby knew what Marge was seeing. A person shutting down. Closing up and turning off. Because that’s what you did when you thought everything was perfect and then you were blindsided again with No, it’s not. “We’ll be fine. The kids are tired. We’ll all nap and regroup.” “Okay, honey. If you’re sure.” Marge hugged her again. She’d come so close to having a mother. Tony followed her to the car and helped her get the kids buckled in. He straightened and faced her before she could get away,

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studying her for a moment. “What are you thinking?” “What?” “You don’t think he’s coming back. You’re strong. You’re stoic. What are you thinking?” Abby thought a second, but she really had no reason to lie. “That it might be better for us if we moved back to Raleigh.” “What? No!” Jack screamed from the backseat. “If we move he’ll never find us!” “It’s okay, Jack,” Tony said, placating and reassuring him enough to settle down. “You’re not moving. Sit back in your seat.” Abby started to protest, but Tony interrupted, his voice only loud enough for her ears. “You’re Matt’s, Abby, you and the kids. That means you’re ours. No matter what happens.” Really? A lovely sentiment if it were true, but she didn’t think she could stand being here without him. She nodded and slid

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behind the wheel, not feeling at all strong or stoic. More like barely hanging on and aching from the effort. “He loves you,” Tony said. “You know that.” Her throat closed up to strangle her but she nodded. “You can’t give up hope.” Yes, you can, she thought. And sometimes, in order to survive, you have to. — A steady, icy drizzle fell, matching her mood. Not rain, not snow, just an in-between weariness from the sky. How many nights had she stood here looking out this window, watching for him to pull into the driveway? Don’t watch for them. Don’t wait for them. Those had always been her childhood rules. But she hadn’t followed them, not for the past fourteen days.

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She stared until the frozen mess falling in front of the streetlight blurred and nothing was clear. But inside everything was clear. He wasn’t coming back. She tried to tell herself not to worry. He’s a U.S. Navy SEAL, practically unkillable. But no one was immortal, not even Matt. Even with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, she shivered against a bone-deep cold. She’d told everyone she had the flu so she could be alone, but now she wasn’t so sure. Maybe she was really sick. Or maybe this was what a broken heart felt like. Mary made a sound from the cradle but quickly settled. Marge and Anthony had taken Charlie for the night. Annie, Gracie, and Jack had gone with Tony and Beth. Thank God for Matt’s family. She needed a break from the questions that were killing her. From her precious Gracie constantly reaching out for reassurance.

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Mommy, where’s Matt? When is he coming back? Does he miss us? Abby had answered each time with an encouraging hug, even as she broke apart inside. Of course he’s coming back. Of course he misses you. If he got kilt by the bad guys, will we have a funewal like we did for Daddy? Will he still be our new daddy? Will we have two daddies in heaven? Will they be fwiends? She had no answers to these questions. And then last night, through heavy tears, the one that had broken her. Why doesn’t God want me to have a daddy? She’d gathered Gracie into her lap while they’d cried together. But Annie asked no questions. She was more closed-up than ever, barely acknowledging his absence. Jack was deep in denial.

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Maybe they should move somewhere new instead of going back to Raleigh, somewhere Matt had never been. Somewhere there were no memories. Distance yourself. Don’t care. She glanced down at the floor, where she’d pulled the quilt from the bed, not wanting to sleep where Matt had held her, knowing he never would again. Not wanting to sleep next to the empty space. She pulled the neck of her T-shirt, Matt’s shirt, up to her nose and breathed in his scent. It was all she had left and it was fading. She strained to remember how her mother had been before, but all she remembered were nights of crying and then…that last night. It’s not enough. What had her mother meant? Her daughter wasn’t enough? Or the world? Or life? Had her mother wished to fall into a dark hole and never come out?

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What a hideous way to relate to a mother she barely remembered. But there was that connection now, an understanding of what it could do to you to love someone so much you didn’t want to live without him. How you could fall so far you couldn’t see out of the darkness. But she could still see, she thought, looking over at Mary. She wouldn’t take the same path her mother had, wouldn’t make the same choice, but she didn’t blame her mother so much anymore. Didn’t blame herself so much either, or the child she’d been. Between stiff fingers, she held a picture of Matt she’d taken on Christmas Day, watching the kids play outside, a grin on his handsome face. It was crinkled and water-stained by her tears, but she could still see it in her mind: The crisp, cold day. The kids laughing. His smile, his eyes. The words of love followed by a kiss. He’s not coming back.

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She’d taken a chance and she’d fallen. Neck-breaking hard. She didn’t have to worry about building up walls or being hurt again. That part of her was broken. There was nothing left to keep safe. She squeezed her eyes shut and imagined she was at the beach. The sound of the ocean and Matt’s strong arms around her, his warm body at her back. Desperate for the feeling she’d had that night when the week was over, when she’d thought she would never see him again, yet been certain she’d survive. Even now she could hear his voice, whispering her name just as he had that last night at the beach. She hadn’t wanted to turn around and say goodbye. She didn’t now. The whisper came again and she angled her head. She could just make out his form across the dark room. It couldn’t be him, couldn’t be real, and in that moment she knew he was gone and the

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dam inside her burst. She buried her face in her hands as her knees gave under the weight of grief. He’d come to say goodbye.

Chapter 38 “Abby?” He said her name again and was moving toward her when she covered her face and sank to the floor. In a second he was there, weak-kneed and kneeling in front of her, gathering her close. Abby. For a second there was nothing, no sound, no thought other than her. More than surviving, more then returning to U.S. soil, even to his house, was holding Abby in his arms. This was home. This was being alive. He finally forced words past his throat, thick with emotion. “It’s okay,” he said, pressing his lips to her head, burying his face in her neck. “It’s okay, baby. I’m home.” He whispered it again as she shook and cried against him. “Abby, honey, it’s me. I’m home.” But she made no move to uncover her face. He wasn’t sure she was even

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hearing him. He forced her back just enough to pull her hands away and cup her face with his. “Abby, look at me.” Abby. He kissed her lips, then swept back the damp and tangled strands of hair stuck to her cheeks. Her eyes fluttered open, and she stared like she was straining to focus. “You’re…you’re real?” She reached out with shaking fingers that feathered across his face. “You’re here?” “I’m here, baby.” He saw the second realization take over and her arms came around him in a choking hold. The relief of having her in his arms dampened as his other senses kicked in. She wasn’t just shaking from crying. Her skin was hot, but she was shivering. He knew her body, every inch and curve, and his heart pounded as he stroked her too thin back and sides. “I thought you were—”

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“I know.” Her words were muffled against his chest, but he knew what she was about to say. He’d seen the shock in her eyes. She’d thought he was dead and now she was sick. She’d lost weight and she was burning up. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. Things went bad, and…” He shook his head, his unshaven face catching in her hair. “I couldn’t get a message to you, to anyone. By the time I found out you didn’t know, I…” He’d been at the base but hadn’t wanted to do it over the phone. He’d wanted to see her, hold her. And by doing that, he’d left her not knowing even longer. They’d gone down, lost all communications, and for nine days they’d alternately hidden and hiked, and…He could explain all that later. Right now he needed her to be okay. She didn’t say anything more, just clung to him like he’d clung to the belief that he’d make it back to her. He breathed in her scent

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as he tried to rub warmth into her body. In her mind, Abby had buried him. He tried to imagine facing a life without her, struggling to open his eyes, even take a breath, believing she was gone forever. The mere thought stopped his heart cold. His need for her, his love for her, grabbed him by the throat, robbing him of words. So he held her, reassuring her and himself that he was home. But there was still another weight pressing on his heart. The pain and guilt of breaking a promise to the person he loved most. — It was barely morning when she opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was Matt. He sat in a chair beside the bed, forearms resting on his knees, head hanging. His hair was wet, his cheeks freshly shaven like he’d had a shower.

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So male and so beautiful. She wanted to climb into his lap, curl up in his arms. But something held her back. She wasn’t shaking as much. Matt had coaxed some Tylenol into her before tucking them both into bed. He’d curled himself around her, warming her with his own body. With her cheek to his chest, she’d slept, sometimes not at all sure he was real and not caring. If this was only a dream, she didn’t want to know. Didn’t want to wake up. Now, in the light of day, she could see he was real and her eyes burned with tears she couldn’t control and didn’t fully understand. She cleared her throat to speak. “Hey.” That one scratchy word was all she managed. His head jerked up and he moved to sit on the bed beside her. “Hey.” He touched her face, smoothed a hand over her hair. Every nerve in her body tingled, so hyperaware of his touch, of his presence. She looked up at him, wanting to

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kiss him and hold him, but her arms felt heavy. The ache that had wracked her body for days was gone, but her heart was numb, like it hadn’t caught up yet. Matt took her hand between his and for a long moment stared down at their laced fingers. He finally looked up. “How do you feel?” “Fine.” “You haven’t been eating.” His voice sounded rough, strained. She didn’t mean to say it as an excuse or a reason, but…“I missed you.” She squeezed her eyes shut against the building tears. “I missed you so much.” He brought her hand to his cheek, pressed his lips into her palm. He held it there, holding her gaze, looking into her eyes like he was trying to read her mind. Like he didn’t know what to say. Neither did she.

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Except for the three words circling. Words she didn’t even want to think, much less say, especially to the one person she’d believed would never leave . But still, they were there, too thick to keep inside. “You left me.” His hand tensed ever so slightly around hers, but he didn’t let go or look away. “Yes. I did.” The deep timbre of his voice bruised her as he made no excuses. Because she wanted them. She wanted him to tell her he’d been forced. That it hadn’t been his choice. She hated that she had reason to say those three most terrifying words to Matt, her heart and soul. A tear dripped from the corner of her eye and slid slowly across her nose before falling to the bedsheet. Then another. Matt lay down facing her and scooted close. He stroked her back for a long time, ran his fingers over her hair. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I’m so damn sorry, Abby.” He

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kissed her lightly on the lips, the forehead, then pulled back and cradled her cheek in his hand. “I went in that day to sign the papers. I did not plan on leaving you. That’s the truth.” His fingers tightened in her hair. “You have to know that.” She sniffed and nodded, processing and accepting. “I’ll never leave you again, baby. I don’t expect you to believe me, but…” He trailed off and touched his forehead to hers. The saltiness of tears burned her raw eyelids and a sob tore through her at the wrongness of it all. He’d come back. She should be happy, should be throwing her arms around him and thanking God, and she was, she did. But she’d lost her security, her rope, everything that kept her from falling. And she hated herself for it, but…she hadn’t just wanted him to come back. She’d wanted him not to have left.

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— Matt snapped Gracie into her car seat, threw a quick glance across the backseat to Jack, and closed the door. Charlie was already home from his mom’s and napping. Tony stood in the driveway, his expression one of pity mixed with relief and anger. No, not anger. Blame. The fact that the kids had stayed at his brother’s just reiterated how bad things had been. “I don’t know what you expected,” Tony said. Matt stared over his brother’s shoulder at the bare limbs of a sycamore. Neither did he. All he’d thought about was getting back to them. He owed his brother a thank-you. For being there when he wasn’t. For looking after his family. But the words stuck in his throat. “I’m not going to question what you did,” Tony said. “I know you love Abby and those

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kids, and I know you well enough to understand it must have been damn important. But you have to understand, whatever the reason, there are consequences. No matter how noble, there are consequences to every action.” His brother wrapped him in a bear hug, both of them holding on longer than usual. They broke apart. “Beth is pissed,” Matt said. “She was scared. We all were. Getting mad is how she handles it. She’ll come around.” Yeah. She would. But would Abby? He didn’t ask his brother, the possibility too terrifying to voice. The back car door opened and Annie got out, pushing her way past him at a full run. “Annie, stop.” He caught her around the waist two steps from the street. “Let me go!”

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“No. I won’t let you go.” She struggled against him through her pitiful sobs and choked words. “I said I didn’t want you to come back. But didn’t mean it.” “Shh. It’s okay now.” “I didn’t mean it.” “I know, baby. It’s okay. There’s nothing you could ever do to make me not come back to you. Nothing. You can be mad, you can scream, whatever you need to do, but I won’t let you go. Not ever.” Finally, she gave in and threw her arms around him even as she cried for him to let her go. He held her close, picturing what life would be like without her trust. It’d been so hard to win, more precious than gold, and now he’d lost it. What if he never got it back? Would she ever come to him after a bad dream? Would the bad dreams be about him? Who would walk her down the aisle? Who would protect her from the world? He

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thought of the uncertainty in her eyes after Mary had been born, when she’d asked if she’d still be his princess. When she was finally spent, he stood with her in his arms and put her back into the car. He didn’t bother with apologies or promises. He touched her braid. “You’re still my princess,” he said softly. She didn’t answer. Matt drove the kids home. They parked, and Gracie and Jack ran for the backyard. After making sure Annie got into the house okay, he went around back too. Jack sat in the playhouse. Gracie sat slowly rocking on the swing. She didn’t know how to pump her legs yet. He’d teach her. Or maybe not. Once she learned, she wouldn’t want him to push her anymore. He walked over to where Jack sat on the edge of the playhouse, his feet dangling. “Hey, bud.” Matt put his hands on either side of Jack’s thighs, making them almost eye-toeye. “I want to talk to you.”

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What had they told the kids? He hadn’t thought to ask. Or maybe he didn’t want to know. He recalled Jack’s words to him on the beach, when talking about his father: He’s dead. How he’d said it like he was saying the sky is blue. Had Jack repeated those words about him? Matt let out a nervous breath. “I bet you were scared the last few weeks.” “Yep.” Jack stopped swinging his legs. “I was wondering what kind of funeral we were going to have. They said you were gone, but nobody knew where you were.” He stopped and looked at his shoes. “I wanted to know, but…I didn’t want them to put you in a box.” Matt didn’t think his heart could break any more, but there went another large crack. This little boy, who should be thinking about race cars and football—his boy had been trying to work out a complicated MIA memorial in his mind. Matt was sickened by it, knowing he was the cause. All because he hadn’t

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said no. Any father could die tragically any day of the week and leave his children to suffer the loss, but the pain he’d caused his family had been a choice. All the times he’d cursed Josh for letting Abby and the kids down hadn’t come close to what he’d done. He lifted Jack down from the playhouse and set him next to Gracie. He knelt before them, looking into their innocent faces so full of childlike faith, and he hated himself even more. “I made a bad decision. I chose what I thought was the right thing to do, but it wasn’t. It was the wrong thing. Do you understand?” His voice broke. Of course they didn’t understand. “I thought I could go help someone really quick and be right back, but…it didn’t work out that way.” Gracie was out of the swing now, and he grabbed on to their arms in a pleading gesture. “I’m so sorry.” Matt couldn’t stop the tears that gathered in his eyes as he pulled

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them to his chest. He buried his face in Gracie’s hair. It seemed like hours passed before Matt felt little arms creep around his neck from both sides, and the vice crushing his heart relaxed its iron grip just a bit. He cupped the backs of their heads and sank all the way to the ground, pulling them both into his lap. And he cried with them, kissed their fresh baby-shampoo hair, wiped the tears that ran down their faces, and thought that maybe he was starting to repair one of the many boards in the bridge he’d torn down. After that, they wanted to play, as if all was forgiven, which made him want to cry all over again.

Chapter 39 Three days since his return. Three days they’d moved together through the house, focusing on the kids, searching for a routine. It was hard, Matt knew. Abby wanted to be happy, but she was also angry, and hurt. She had every right to be, but it went deeper than that. She’d lost faith in him, in them. She turned to him each night, clinging to him, as if she needed to know he was alive and breathing even in her sleep. As if she needed to keep him from leaving again. But with the sun came an invisible space between them. Invisible, but so thick he couldn’t get through it. Both exceedingly polite, while every cell in his body was tense and knotted. It was excruciating, with everything between them riding just below the surface.

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And he didn’t want anything standing between them on their wedding day—a day that was forty-eight hours away and neither of them had mentioned. He knew there was a very real possibility she was having second thoughts, but he didn’t have the courage to ask. There would be a wedding. Even if he had to wait a lifetime. Matt slipped into their bedroom and took a moment just to look at her where she stood at the window. She looked so small and delicate, with the afternoon sunlight spilling over her. The scene reminded him of the night he’d proposed, when he’d watched her from one knee, standing in the moonlight. The night he’d promised to spend his life making her happy, then before he’d even said “I do,” he’d broken her heart, been one more person who’d left. The knowledge made him sick. Abby turned at the sound of him closing the door, and his stomach clenched. Her face

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was still too thin; dark smudges still lay under her eyes, fading but there. And she was still so damn beautiful it took his breath away. She stood stiffly, arms wrapped around her body as if she needed to shield herself. From him? “Hey,” he said, moving into the room. She bent to pick up a pillow beside the bed. “Hey.” He watched, waited, hoping she’d say more, but she only sidestepped him as she made her way around the bed, jerking up the sheets and comforter. On her third pass he stepped in front of her, blocking her way. He’d been patient, hadn’t pushed, but no more. Ignoring a problem was not in his makeup. “Excuse me,” she said, her voice flat, controlled.

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She wouldn’t look at him, and that scared him more than anything. “Abby, you have to talk to me.” His hands fisted at his sides, wanting so badly to grab her when she turned to the bed. “Please. Scream at me. Yell. Hit me, for God’s sake. Anything. I know I hurt you. I know you were devastated when you thought—” She whirled on him. “Devastated? Are you surprised?” He started to say no, but she was in his face before he could speak. “Damn right I was devastated.” Her eyes no longer flat, flashed with anger and pain. “How would you feel if you woke up and I was gone? Would you be devastated? Would you be devastated if I drove my car off a cliff one day? After I’d promised you, sworn to you, that I wouldn’t? Would you be devastated while you explained to the kids that, yes, I loved them, but, no, you didn’t know why I left them? While you searched closets

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for little black dresses and tiny black shoes to wear to a funeral. A funeral that would never happen because there— was no b-body?” “Stop.” He raised a hand to comfort her. “Abby—” “When Gracie looked at you with tears in her eyes and asked why did God want her new d-daddy too?” “Shh. Stop. I’m sorry.” He’d wanted her angry, not broken. Every tear she shed cut deep, but the ones she shed because of him? Those were like swallowing shards of glass. He grabbed her and pulled her close, forcing back his own tears. “I’ll never forgive myself for hurting you, so I—” “Then why?” She drew back and looked up at him, her face wet, her eyes red and pleading. “Tell me why.” How could he explain it to her when he was still trying to explain it to himself? He

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sat in the bedroom chair and pulled her into his lap. He took a shaky breath and told her everything, recapping the meeting, leaving out nothing. She listened silently to every word, her fingers twisting in the hem of her shirt. “My chest hurt until I thought the cabin pressure must be off. And I was sick. First time in my life to puke in an aircraft. Everything in me screamed, but there was no going back.” And the finality of what he’d done and what he could be losing had eaten a hole in him the entire way. “I didn’t think I had a choice.” A voice inside him, the same one that had damned Josh, shouted, You always have a choice. “There was a moment in that meeting when…I just thought leaving someone to die couldn’t be the right thing.” And he still didn’t know. The idea of coming home that

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day to Abby, his heart and soul, eating dinner and kissing his children while another man was tortured, made him sick. Break someone’s heart or let a man die? But seeing her now, broken and crying, he couldn’t help but wish he’d done things differently. “I’m sorry, baby. I know it doesn’t help, but I am.” She leaned into him a fraction, then little by little relaxed. They sat that way for a long time, his hands moving lightly over her back, her head tucked under his chin. He thought about how she’d told him about her mom, the anger and helplessness he’d felt. Never in a million years had he thought he would do the same. That he’d make her question his love or her worth. “It wasn’t because of you, baby. If you believe nothing else, please believe that.” She nodded but pushed up and out of his arms.

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Tony’s words came back to him. There were consequences. He’d broken his word. He’d left her. And that might be the one thing she could never forgive. An ice-cold sensation ran through him. His heart pounded as he stood and again closed the gap between them. “Please tell me I’m not losing you.” Abby turned and looked up at him, her expression full of pain and hurt. The long seconds of silence were deafening. Her chin quivered, her green eyes an ocean of tears. “I forgive you, I do, and I understand. It’s just…” She shook her head slowly. “My heart broke, Matt. It broke. And if you left again…if I ended up like my mom—” “Abby.” He took her face in his hands, forcing her eyes to see him, hoping she would look deeper. “Look at me. I won’t leave you again. I swear it.”

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“You say that now, but how do you know? How do you know you won’t feel that pull again? I jump every time the phone rings. When you leave the room, I think I should have said goodbye. I’m afraid every second and I hate it. I can’t—” “You can. You can, baby.” The look on her face threatened to bring him to his knees. He pulled her against him, held her tightly. “I’m not rushing you. I don’t mean to. I’m just…” so f*cking terrified I’m losing you. Her arms came around him in a death grip. Holding on to him even though he was the one who’d caused the hurt. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.” And they would be. He’d wait for her to trust him again—as long as it took, he’d wait. He’d make it okay. He couldn’t accept anything else. —

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Matt was gone when Abby woke up. Even though he’d told her he had to go to the base for a debriefing, she fought the fear reflex and the nausea. The kids were in school. Mary slept soundly in her swing. It was Friday. The day before her wedding. Her mind was working overtime to wrap around all that had happened. She’d thought he was dead, then he was back. He promised he’d never leave her again, and he meant it. She didn’t doubt that. But he’d meant it before. Angie called around noon to check on her. “You sure you don’t want me to come up tonight?” “No. There’s no need. I promise. We’re just going to spend a quiet night, get to bed early. Hopefully.” Joe couldn’t get off work until late and Abby didn’t want them to have to bring two cars. There would be no party tonight; she’d

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insisted. Matt’s family had done enough, and it had all come together in record time. Knowing the town better than Abby did, Matt’s family had arranged everything—the church, the reception venue, the band. She and Marge had ordered the flowers and the catered food just after Thanksgiving. The fact that Abby could even entertain second thoughts had already made her physically ill once this morning. “So,” Angie said, “how are you? And if you say you’re fine I swear I will come there right now and slap you.” Abby let out a little laugh. She could always count on Angie to lighten the mood. Maybe she should let her friend come up early. But what if she couldn’t do it? What if she needed more time? “I’m okay. Can I say that?” “And Matt?” Abby stared at the diamond-shaped tiles of the kitchen sink’s backsplash, remembering

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another time she’d stood here, Matt behind her, his lips on her neck. “He’s fine.” The words were out before she even thought. Maybe Angie had been right about her automatic response. Because Matt was far from fine. He’d held her last night, and she’d cried. They’d cried together. For the pain she’d suffered, for the distance lingering between them, for the fear they’d lost something they could never get back. She forced her throat to swallow. “He’s picking the kids up from school and taking them to dinner, said he wanted to talk to them, spend some time.” It had been her own idea, way back when, for them not to spend tonight together, so he wouldn’t see or speak to his bride the night before the wedding. Matt hadn’t liked it, but he’d laughed and kissed her and said, “Whatever you want.” Like he always did. He just wanted her to be happy.

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“You know, it wouldn’t be unreasonable for you to be upset, Abby, even want to push the wedding back a little.” Abby fixed her gaze on the giant wooden play-set in the backyard. The one Matt had insisted be there the day they moved in. He’d enlisted his brothers and a few team buddies to get it set up while he was in Raleigh with her. Kids need swings, he’d said. Tears burned behind her lids. “I’m—” “Watch it,” Angie said. “You almost said you were fine, didn’t you? See? I know you. And I know you think this is just one more time you were left. God knows I want to strangle the man, but this isn’t the same, Abby. He didn’t walk away from you.” Abby felt herself backing away. She’d grown so adept at turning off her feelings when she was hurt, she didn’t know how not to. “I don’t know what to do.”

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“Yes, you do. You love him. You were weeks away from promising to love him forever, in good and bad. Did you mean it?” She’d meant it. That hadn’t changed. It couldn’t change. “Let me know if you change your mind about tonight. Or tomorrow. You know I love you, whatever you decide. But when you say those vows, you have to be sure.” “I know. I love you too. And thank you.” Abby ended the call and stared out the window at nothing. She was sure. That she loved Matt. That she wanted to spend her life with him. But there was a boulder-size weight on her heart. She wanted everything to be perfect, and right now it wasn’t. You shouldn’t feel terrified and broken the day before your wedding. She went through the motions of the day, replaying Angie’s words while taking care of Mary and trying to keep it together as she

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always did. She caught up on the endless laundry, changed sheets, and picked up toys. After eating dinner alone, she laid the baby in her crib, hoping she’d sleep almost through the night. She cleaned up and secured the trash bag to take outside. It was cold but not freezing like it had been. She was just about to hurry back inside when a faded blue car pulled into the driveway. Abby watched as a young woman exited the driver’s seat, her blond hair swaying as she went around to open the passenger door. Her head disappeared for a second before she reappeared, helping someone slowly out of the car. A man stumbled and grabbed on to the open door to steady himself. Their voices were muffled by the distance, but Abby didn’t miss the tender kiss the woman laid on his cheek. The back door opened and two little boys, maybe six and five, climbed out.

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The four of them approached as a unit, one aching step at a time. The twisted grimace on the man’s lips and his groan of pain spurred her to meet them halfway. The left side of his face was an angry red; a series of stitches ran from his cheek into a shaved patch of hair. She forced herself to smile. “Hi. Can I help you?” “Yes, ma’am. I’m Sergeant First Class Ray Evans. This is my wife, Sue. My boys, Johnny and Bo. We’re looking for Senior Chief McKinney. We was told he lived here.” Before Abby could answer, the oldest boy, skinny and freckled, spoke. “We come to tell him thank you for savin’ our daddy.” The smaller boy handed her a piece of white paper, a child’s drawing. Four stick people—two small, one medium, and one as big as the sky with the word “Daddy” written over it in a child’s scrawl.

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Abby’s knees went weak. A familiar pain gripped her heart. She couldn’t look away from the sight before her: a young woman with tears in her eyes, a man in obvious pain but straining to stand straight and proud, even in front of her. Something she didn’t deserve. Something Matt did. “I’m sorry,” she finally managed. “He’s not here. I could call him, maybe, if you want to wait?” The man’s gaze fell to the sidewalk, but he quickly regrouped. “Oh no, ma’am. We got to be gettin’ back. Not even supposed to be out and about. Could you just tell him we come by? Wanted to thank him, personally and all.” “Yes, of course I’ll tell him.” A tear slid down the woman’s face, past the dark circles under her eyes. She didn’t speak, just reached out and squeezed Abby’s hand with a sharp, bony grip.

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“Okay, then,” he said, and the woman let go. They turned, the wife bearing the weight of her husband with his arm around her slight shoulders. The man’s other hand rested on the shoulder of his son like a short crutch. Abby swallowed against the lump blocking her throat. That could be Jack, eagerly offering himself to his hero. That woman could be her, grateful beyond words, still struggling to process the miracle that her husband had returned. Her prayers—for someone like Matt to bring her husband home—answered. She watched as they opened doors and gingerly maneuvered the injured, but living, into the car. She watched them back out of the driveway, then her gaze fell to the drawing in her hand. The colors swirled and wavered as her eyes filled with tears. This is why. The reason was right in front of her. This is why he’d left. And he loved her so much he regretted it.

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Oh, Matt. Would she have been strong enough to risk everything to save a life? She didn’t know. She didn’t feel strong. Though she had survived Matt’s death. Dark, bleak hours she didn’t want to remember. She traced the mommy figure on the paper. Was that how her own mother had felt? Body and mind so black with grief over the death of her husband she couldn’t see anything else? Not even her daughter? All Abby’s life she’d wanted to matter, to be loved for real. Matt’s regret for hurting her…that was real. And his love, that was also real. As real as her love for him. With the child’s drawing in her hand, she cried cleansing tears of relief and forgiveness, full to bursting with the unwavering knowledge that she was wanted. That she was enough, that maybe she’d been enough for her mother too. That Matt’s leaving hadn’t been about her. She smiled through

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the tears. He hadn’t changed his mind. And he wouldn’t leave her again.

Chapter 40 Matt stood at the front of St. Paul’s Catholic Church, right in front of the altar where he’d been baptized and he’d received his first communion. The winter sun was low, sprinkling bits of colored light through stainedglass saints. He and his brothers stood like a row of black and white penguins, with Jack directly in front of him, leaning against his legs. As an honorably discharged Navy SEAL, he didn’t wear dress whites—that was for the enlisted or retired. And it was fine. Better than fine. Because that’s what he was. Former Navy SEAL. It took everything in him not to check his watch. He alternately flexed and fisted his fingers against his leg. Focusing on keeping the beads of sweat below the surface, he

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scanned the crowd: His grandparents. An aunt and uncle he hadn’t seen in years. His buddies lining the back of the church, serving as ushers. Jack co*cked his head to look up at him, the question obvious. How much longer? Matt answered with a reassuring pat on his shoulders, and Jack continued watching the doors at the end of the center aisle. So did he. She was here. She was coming. Of course every groom lived with the fear his bride might make a break for it at the last second. He wouldn’t breathe easy until he saw her walking toward him. After taking the kids out last night, he’d driven to D.C. and been on Secretary Kedlar’s doorstep at eight o’clock this morning, papers in hand. Good thing the man liked him. Matt wanted it to be official. He wanted to hand these papers to Abby today, hopefully erasing every doubt in her mind that he

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wasn’t sure about how he wanted to spend the rest of his life. Matt waited for that first note of music, the one that would have everyone standing. The one that would tell him the rest of his life was about to begin. The sight of his mom being escorted down the aisle by a teammate, Mary asleep in her arms, was a beautiful thing. They continued all the way to the front row and scooted in. His dad gave him a slight nod. Man code for all is well. And then the music started. His sister came first, wearing a stylish black co*cktail dress. All the sisters-in-law followed, each in a different style, but all wearing black. True to Abby’s nature, she’d insisted each woman wear what she felt most comfortable in. Beth was last, holding her bouquet in one hand, a firm grip on Charlie with the other. A wise decision since his two-year-old Tasmanian devil kept bopping himself in the face with the ring-tied pillow the entire way.

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Yep. A smile tugged at Matt’s mouth. Full of badness, that one. Charlie tossed the pillow like a Frisbee at Tony’s feet, then pulled away from Beth and dove into his grandpa’s lap. Annie and Gracie walked side by side down the aisle. Their white dresses with black velvet sashes hung over white tights, almost touching the shiny black buckle shoes. Each girl wore a halo of white flowers in her hair; Gracie’s flowers were surrounded by a flurry of wild curls, while Annie’s hair was in braids wrapped around her head like a crown. They both wore the silver heart necklaces he’d given them last night, a symbol of his love and his promise that they would always be his little girls. Gracie had gushed over the shine of her new prize, but the sparkle in Annie’s eyes had told him they’d been a good call. No bling for the boys, but he’d pinned his SEAL Trident on Jack’s tuxedo jacket. It

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was a toss-up as to which one of them was more proud. The girls dropped red rose petals from the white baskets on their little arms as they walked. Annie worked in a sweeping pattern, placing one on her left, then her right, stepping as carefully as if she were traversing a minefield. Gracie filled in the gaps, flinging glorious handfuls and grinning ear to ear as they fell. About three quarters of the way down, Gracie stopped and waved at him like she was flagging down a plane. “I’m doing my fowers,” she said in a loud kind of stage whisper, pointing at her basket and getting a laugh from the attending crowd. God, he loved her. All of them. They’d been his since the first day he’d seen them. And he’d been theirs the second Jack’s football hit his back. Annie got to the end of the aisle, stopped, and looked into her basket. Then she upended it, dumping the unused petals in a pile.

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She continued to spread them into a nice wide carpet at the end of the silk runner until Beth assured her it was good and ushered her to stand close beside her. Everyone was there. Except his bride. He concentrated on breathing in and out. No way would he faint at his own wedding. He shifted his feet, pulled Jack back against him a little closer. The first note of the wedding march blew through the church like a blast and everyone stood. He still didn’t see her. And then he did. She came in to view and stood just outside the church’s main doors in the narthex. The woman who’d owned his heart before he even knew her name. With Joe and Angie on either side of her, Abby seemed to float toward him. A long cascade of silk followed the new curves of her body before flaring out at the floor. His eyes found hers and his heart beat stronger with every step she took. She was here. She was

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his. And he would work until he made everything okay. The three of them stopped at the bottom step leading up to the altar and Matt was there, taking Abby’s hand, before Joe and Angie had finished the words We do, in answer to Who gives this woman? Yeah, he knew the tradition, but he was taking. Abby’s lips curved into the sweetest smile, her eyes bright…dancing. “I got her,” he said, folding his hand around hers, his other at the small of her back as he guided her up the three steps. The groomsmen chuckled and Matt caught Beth rolling her eyes. Whatever. Abby was his. Father Mike cleared his throat, ready to start. And so was Matt—more than ready to make Abby his wife. He tried hard to concentrate on Father Mike’s words, knew they were important, but

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it was difficult to concentrate on anything with Abby this close, looking this beautiful. Her eyes were on the priest, like the good little Catholic girl she was. His were on her. Her dark hair, wound up on top of her head and dotted with pretty little flowers, would be coming down later. He imagined the long strands slipping through his fingers, spreading out over his pillow. He would start at her neck, then trail his lips lower, over her breasts, and… Huh? He jerked his eyes up to find Abby looking amused. Her head tilted slightly, her cute little eyebrows raised as if to say Really? She gave a little nod toward Father Mike, who was absolutely not amused. Matt put on his very best I’m-paying-attention face and brought Abby’s hand up to his lips, hiding his smile behind a kiss. So damn happy he was about to come out of his skin.

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Finally, after a long-winded recitation of what marriage meant, Matt dutifully repeated the priest’s words. Next was Abby’s turn. “Please repeat after me. I, Abigail Nicole.” Abby blinked up at Matt. “I…Abigail Nicole.” “Promise to…” “Promise—” Abby froze. She pulled her hands from Matt’s and raised one to signal the priest to stop. Matt’s heart stuttered. Time stood still as he searched for a sign, a clue to her thoughts. Praying they weren’t second thoughts. Her chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths as she shook out her hands like she was gearing up for a major piano piece. She wiped her palms on the skirt of her dress. He waited, holding his breath, like everyone else in the church.

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Father Mike took a concerned step closer. “Okay?” “Yes.” Her voice was clear and sure, but when she placed her hands back in his, they shook like tiny birds. Matt examined her eyes for that glassy look right before someone faints. But they were as clear and bright as ever, and she stared straight into his, so deeply she could have been touching his soul. “Ready?” Father Mike asked, the picture of patience, as if he had brides stop to regroup every day. Abby nodded, then proceeded without waiting for her prompt. “I promise”—she squeezed Matt’s hands and he squeezed back his reassurance—“to love you.” He held her hands a little tighter, his thumbs tracing circles over her skin as she took a deep breath in and let it out.

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“And I”—her eyes filled with sudden tears and her voice shook—“promise…to…” She sucked in a gulp of air. Matt took her face in his hands and put his forehead to hers. “Abby.” It was just a word, a whisper. A comfort, but also a plea. She covered his hands with her own and her voice whispered back to him. “You did the right thing.” Slowly, still cupping her face, he raised his head to meet her eyes. “You did.” Her breath hitched. “You made the right choice, and I know you won’t leave me.” Tears fell, stopping at his hands, but her smile told him they were happy ones. “I promise to know that.” “Abby—” “And I’ll never leave you.” His brave girl. Every time he thought it was impossible to love her more—

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“Abigail?” the priest broke in for her attention. She was smiling and crying, and if there was ever a moment a man’s heart could burst from happiness, this was it. Father Mike cleared his throat. “Um…Abigail Nicole, do you take—” “She does,” Matt said. “She definitely does.” Then his mouth covered hers and he didn’t care about the rest. Not the vows or the priest or the guests. It wasn’t a you-maykiss-the-bride kind of kiss. It was more like two souls finding their way back to each other after being lost in the dark for way too long. He was brought back to awareness by Tony tapping him on the shoulder. Abby appeared as unfazed by their location as he was, and he almost kissed her again, but the sound of clapping brought him further back to reality.

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Abby’s amazed expression turned to pure joy and a wide smile spread across her face. Matt took his wife’s hand and faced the crowd of family and friends as the priest spoke. “I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Matthew McKinney.” — The room glittered with lights and people, and literally buzzed with music from the band on one end and a crowd of clinking glasses at the bar on the other. The space between was half covered in white-clothed tables, twinkling with tiny candles, and couples swirling on a wooden dance floor. Abby stood next to Matt in a circle of large men, all in dress whites. Except Matt. As he’d explained during their traditional dance, he’d given up that honor for her. He introduced her to the teammates she hadn’t met yet and laughed at their good-natured

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efforts to warn her off their unworthy friend. Matt’s arm around her waist tightened and drew her closer with each new man that approached. Cute, but totally unnecessary. His jacket was off and she ran shaking palms up his white silk dress shirt, loving the feel of hard muscles and the man beneath. And knowing he was hers. She craned her head back to look up at him and smiled, expecting it would get her a kiss. And it did. It also chased the other men away. He pulled her around in front of him so their bodies were pressed together. “You did that on purpose,” he said, smiling against her lips. “Yes, I did.” She slid her arms up and around his neck, gazing at her extremely gorgeous husband. “Why can men not take watching another man kiss his wife?” “Jealous, maybe? I don’t know.” He kissed her again, sliding his hand up to cup the side of her neck. “And I don’t care.”

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“Matt?” She’d considered not telling him about Sergeant Tyler. For about five seconds. Matt was her best friend; she couldn’t, and wouldn’t, keep things from him. Besides, she had a message to pass on. “Hmm?” He replied, his lips vibrating against her throat. “I had a visitor yesterday—” “Hey, Matt,” Lizzy said. “Have you seen J.T.? Mom wants a picture.” “No. Sorry.” “Okay, then. Carry on.” Lizzy grinned and moved on. Matt dipped his head, his lips and teeth doing wicked things just below her ear. “Where were we?” “Well, I was about to tell you—” Movement just behind Matt caught her eye. “Good grief.” “What?” Matt turned, following her line of sight over his shoulder.

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“I think I just saw Jack’s feet disappear under that table.” He laughed, letting his hands rest on her lower back like he’d done during their dance. “Is that all?” Abby peeked around him for another look. A row of rectangular tables, connected end to end, lined one entire wall of the banquet room. Covered in white cloth that touched the ground, every inch of surface filled with cookies. Matt had explained to her it was a family tradition for every female relative to bring cookies for the reception, but never in her wildest imagination could she have pictured the massive quantity and variations. It was like a social scene in and of itself. Ladies crept up and down along the tables, pointing and speculating. Choosing which cookies to eat first was like a mating ritual, and the men had to eat with care. And then

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there were the kids, scouring on tiptoes for anything without nuts. And then there was her son. Under the table. “Matt, he can’t be crawling under there. One of us needs to go drag him out.” She smoothed his shirt and gave him a loving pat. “Preferably you.” Matt shook his head. “No way. It’s practically a rite of passage to sneak cookies under the cookie tables. Those were some of my first black ops. And, you should know,” he murmured behind her ear, “I was never caught.” “Well, maybe you should teach your son some stealth.” They froze on the word “son,” their smiles spreading like mirror images. “My son,” Matt said proudly, “has plenty of stealth. Did you actually see him or just his feet?” “I saw—”

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The bandleader interrupted, calling fathers and daughters to the floor for a special dance. Matt took her hand in his and led her to the girls, who were lining the dance floor with their cousins. Annie and Gracie stood on the edges. How was he going to work this? “Hello, ladies.” His nieces grinned and giggled. “Hi, Uncle Matt.” He stepped in front of Annie and held out his hand with a little bow. “May I have this dance?” Annie hesitated, looking around at the other girls going off with their dads. Gracie twirled, ending with a hop. “What about me?” “I’m saving you for the ladybug dance. It’s next,” he said, tapping her on the nose.

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Abby watched her husband with pride. Such a quick thinker, and he’d need it in the years ahead. Her little sister’s enthusiasm was just what Annie needed to spur her on, and she placed her hand in Matt’s. They made their way into the center of the dance floor, now covered in daddies waltzing with grown daughters or holding baby girls. “I need anover dwink,” Gracie said, holding her fancy glass in the air. That probably made four Shirley Temples so far, on top of cake and no telling how many cookies. Abby pitied the family member who’d be taking Gracie and Charlie for the night. But that was just another wonderful thing about Matt’s big family: always plenty of options. Even now, one of the preteen cousins from out of town toted Charlie around on her hip. Two elderly aunts had spent the last hour passing Mary back and forth. From the look on Marge’s face as she approached them, that was about to end. There was so much

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love for Abby and her children she could hardly absorb it all. She glanced back just as Matt lifted Annie from where she stood on his shoes to hold her in his arms. A bit of white fluff in Matt’s big arms, sash untied, strands of hair falling out of her braid. Matt swayed and spun with her little arms wound around his neck, her head on his shoulder. It wouldn’t be long before Matt would be doing it again, only next time it would be during a father-of-the-bride dance. Anthony Senior stepped up beside Abby, and they watched as the dance came to an end. “I’d say everything turned out pretty well,” he said. She wasn’t sure if Matt’s dad was talking about the perfectly detailed wedding and reception or their life. Her answer applied to both. “Yes. It did.”

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Matt approached, his hand looking big on Annie’s small back, and for a second Abby thought her daughter might have fallen asleep. It wouldn’t surprise her after the day they’d had. Annie’s head popped up when they reached her. Oh well. Probably better she didn’t fall asleep at this point. “Hey, princess,” Matt’s dad said. Everyone had picked up on Matt’s nicknames for the kids. “Want to dance with your grandpa?” “I can’t,” Annie said with her ever-serious expression. “I’m going to get a cookie.” Then she looked right at Matt and added, “With my daddy.” Matt took Abby’s hand, laced their fingers and squeezed. Warm and solid and right. When their eyes met she wasn’t sure if he winked or was blinking back tears. Didn’t matter. Either way, it was perfect.

To my husband, who shows me every day what it means to love

Acknowledgments This story never would have made the trip from mind to paper if not for the support of family and friends. I owe a special thank-you to my friend Karen, who encouraged me to write that very first word and pushed me to keep going. Thank you to my girl Kristi, who listened to me ramble and brought me brownies when I was too deep in revisions to leave my closet. To my entire Critter Crew: Cristin, Hijo, Jamie, Kaci, Pamela, Racquel, Sharon, Shelly, and Victoria. Thank you doesn’t even begin to cover it. I would never have seen, much less crossed, the finish line without you guys. Thank you to my husband and three daughters. Your love, support, and understanding made this possible. A special thank-you to my agent, Emily Sylvan Kim, for your knowledge and patience. And a huge

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thank you to the entire Random House team, especially my editor, Sue Grimshaw. Thank you, Sue, for your guidance, support, and unwavering confidence in my story.

BY CLAUDIA CONNOR Worth the Fall

Coming soon Worth the Risk

PHOTO: ASHTON DRAKE

Claudia Connor lives near Memphis, Tennessee, with her husband and three daughters. She attended Auburn University, where she received her undergraduate and master’s degrees in early childhood education, completing her studies in Sawbridgeworth, England. Always a lover of happy endings, she enjoys movies, reading, and spending her days putting the stories in her head onto paper. Claudia Connor loves hearing from readers. You can contact her at www.claudiaconnor.com where you’ll find giveaways, deleted

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scenes, and a sexy preview of the next book in The McKinney Brothers series, Worth the Risk, coming in January 2015.

The Editor’s Corner September 23, 2014 is the first day of Autumn, and there is nothing like cool weather to encourage us to curl up and read a good book—that we need any additional encouragement, right? Here are some great Loveswept book ideas to help you fall into the new season. USA Today bestselling author Mira Lyn Kelly’s new Dare to Love series debuts with Truth or Dare, a fabulous contemporary romance that fans of Jill Shalvis will adore. Laura Drewry returns this month as well with the witty and tender romance Prima Donna, featuring a sexy love-shy doctor. Debut author Claudia Connor introduces the McKinney brothers in Worth the Fall, where readers meet widowed mother Abby and Navy SEAL Matt, both seeking forgiveness

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and looking for a way to start over. A book I’m sure readers will devour is Control by Laura Marie Altom—runaway Ella escapes an abusive marriage, dot.com billionaire Liam is used to having control, and together they are explosive. Coinciding with the World Series, Katie Rose gives us The Boys of Summer with Bring on the Heat, introducing Chase and Darcy, (or is it Lydia?) in this mistaken identity love affair. And if the weather gets a little too cool, heat it up with Longing by Jamie K. Schmidt, a lighter take on erotic romance, but don’t be fooled, Anya and Clint are hot! Lastly, don’t miss the newest Flirt title: Lauren Layne’s Broken. The second book in her Redemption series, tells the story of a girl with secrets, a guy with scars, and a love that could save them…or destroy them. I hope you don’t miss these stories that will warm your heart and make you blush a little, too! And share your favorites with

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friends—we all need a little cuddle up time with a good book. Until next time…. ~Happy Romance!

Gina Wachtel Associate Publisher

Read on for an excerpt from

Truth or Dare A Dare to Love Novel

by Mira Lyn Kelly Available from Loveswept

CHAPTER ONE JUNE In Maggie Lawson’s defense, the apartment door had been open. Wide open. And she’d tried to warn him. But with the hard rock sound of Queens of the Stone Age pounding out of the speakers within, her new upstairs neighbor hadn’t heard. So he didn’t know she was standing there when he walked by…rucking his T-shirt overhead as he stopped at a stack of cardboard packing boxes marked “Office.” She should have said something. She started to, but whatever apology or alert she’d been poised to deliver died on her tongue as she stood transfixed by the hypnotic shift and flex of this man’s half-clad physique. Because, wow. Just, wow. Talk about some ripped jeans, skin showing.

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Okay, it wasn’t like she’d never seen a shirtless guy before. They were everywhere, littering magazines, billboards, and TV. Chicago wasn’t suffering any shortage when it came to quality hotties. But up this close, and not just one of the guys, it caught her by surprise. Enough to stall out her brain function before she’d determined whether she should bring her plate of “welcome to the building” cookies back later or try again to announce her presence behind him. And now, all she could see was skin. An abundance of it. Dark and flushed from hours of exertion. Glistening with a sheen of sweat that beaded up even as she watched, until one fat drop slid over a hard cut terrain of taut flesh and banded muscle before soaking into the low slung denim at his hips. Trim hips. On a body that was tall and broad and distracting her in a way she wasn’t accustomed to being distracted.

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She should probably take off. But then he was dragging the rag he’d made of his shirt across his face, gritting out a curse that had her mouth snapping closed and her chin pulling back. Not because of what he’d said—please, she heard worse on an almost hourly basis—but because of the way he’d said it. There was something altogether too revealing in that one word. Something broken and tired and raw and, yeah, she should definitely go. She’d keep the cookies. His head swung around, and his eyes, flinty gray, hard and accusing locked on hers. “What the—?” “I’m sorry,” she gasped on a nervous laugh, trying to pull it together in front of this guy who’d just busted her fresh off the ogle and was going to be living above her for some unspecified duration. “I—I came up and then—there you were—and I wasn’t expecting—”

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This was totally something they could laugh about, if he got with the program and gave it a shot. Only apparently not. Shoving his arms back into his shirt, he stalked to the door, making his big body as imposing a “do not enter” sign as she’d ever encountered. “What do you want?” Well, she had cookies. Still warm from the oven. And a pint of milk. He’d spent hours moving in to the apartment directly above hers. He was her new neighbor. What did he think she wanted? It didn’t matter. An instant on the receiving end of this guy’s humorless glower was enough to know he wasn’t going to be another swell addition to her group of friends. Not a problem. But for the sake of civility and because she was actually standing there, baked bounty in hand, she pushed an

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imitation of the smile that had been genuine when she’d started into place and tried again. “Sorry to interrupt. I stopped up to say, ‘Hey, neighbor,’ ” she offered, adding one of those cheesy half-circle waves that smacked of a classic Karate Kid wax-on. “Tyler, right? Yeah, okay. So. I’m friends with Ford…our landlord…and he asked me to swing by. I live down in Apartment Two.” “The girl next door,” he bit out, eyes pinching closed in what looked suspiciously like a plea for patience. Though honestly, it couldn’t have been even a full minute since she’d first darkened his doorstep, so, seriously with the attitude? Sure, she’d been looking. But the door was open. And he’d been the one stripping in front of it. “Mmm-hmm…okay, or…umm…girl downstairs technically. But either way—”

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His jaw twitched twice. “Christ, I don’t need this.” Maggie’s wide-eyed stare shifted from the six-foot-plus stretch of hard-cut, stubblerough, and overtly hostile male braced against the doorframe, down to the seemingly benign plate of cookies and back. Was she missing something? Only then the guy raked a hand through the damp mess of his hair and blew out a strained breath. “Look, Apartment Two. Whatever you’re offering, I’m not interested.” No. Way. “Whatever I’m offering?” The hard slant of his mouth and pointed jut of his chin were as much as he had to say on the subject. More than enough to make his meaning clear. Her mouth gaped as disbelief and outrage kicked off a turf war deep within her chest.

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Did this knuckle dragger actually think he—? And worse, was he suggesting she—? Not in this lifetime, bub. Sure the guy wasn’t an eyesore. He had a built-tough body going on with all the hardpacked and high-definition to boot. But so very special? So irresistible Maggie figured her best bet for getting a jump on the competition was to make her move…with cookies at nine on a Sunday morning? Uh-uh. And to think, she’d felt bad for him lugging all his crap up the three flights on his own. But yeah, didn’t that make perfect sense now. What a dick. “So we’re clear, the only thing on offer here, Apartment Three…,” Maggie tucked the milk into the crook of her elbow and folded the plastic wrap back from the plate,

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infusing the air around them with the pure essence of melted chocolate, toasted oats, and the rich buttery goodness of a family recipe so sacred, only three people in the world knew it. Helpless under the aromatic assault, his eyes went briefly unfocused before dropping to the cookies. Selecting the biggest one, Maggie lifted it to her mouth and bit, chewing with deliberate relish before cracking the lid on the milk and taking a long, slow swallow. Satisfied when the muscles of the guy’s throat worked up and down, she re-covered the plate. “…is my suggestion you look over your rental agreement regarding noise pollution and turn your music down. Or at least close your—” The door swung shut in her face. Unbelievable. But at least she didn’t need to waste another breath on the jerk.

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— “He actually called you ‘Apartment Two’?” Ava Meyers, Maggie’s best friend and fellow abstainer in all things “relationship,” shook her head, her mahogany shag catching in the light breeze and blowing around her face. They were settled in on their favorite bench with the usual Sunday assortment of accumulated mail, magazines, electronic devices, and what remained of the cookies. “Like you didn’t merit an identity beyond the female occupying space beneath him.” Maggie scrolled through headlines, too deep into her snit to commit to any one bit of news. “Ford says he’s in Marketing. Freelance. And he’s from New York I think, renting month to month, so maybe we’ll luck out and he’ll be gone by September.” “Month to month? Weird. Why?” “Your brother. You ask.”

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Ava let out an indelicate snort. Ford was…distracted. That they’d even gotten this much information was a minor miracle. Picking through the cookies, she added, “I love it that he thought you were putting a move on him though.” “I know. Because that’s so me,” Maggie snickered. “Scoping out the meat market twenty-four-seven.” Talk about a headache she didn’t need. Not when at twenty-seven, her life was pretty well perfect just the way it was. Stable. Secure. On track. Built on a rock solid foundation of priorities any guidance counselor would swoon over. Maggie had completed her education, had savings and a financial plan, a solid job managing the Shrone Gallery and her boss’s cosmic blessing to buy into the business as a partner, hopefully within the next year, and eventually buy her out. Add to that, the friendships that

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“completed” her in ways no romance could…and she was good. Better than. The whole ever-after business? She didn’t have time for it. Correction. She had plenty of time. It was the inclination lacking. Maggie tipped her face to the sky, basking in the warmth of June’s sunshine and her contentment with the lot life had given her. Sure, there’d been dues to pay. There always were. But it was because of those rough patches she was able to fully appreciate this tranquil little corner of Platonia she’d carved out for herself. Where her circle of friends reigned supreme and the forecast always called for good times. Constancy, support, and reliability. Chance of romantic strife or bitter betrayal raining on their parade? Zero.

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Yeah, Maggie was satisfied with her life, exactly the way it was. Period. “So, hey,” Ava drawled, from beside her. “Obviously Apartment Three was a total weenis and I’m not talking about him. But do you ever look around and…you know…wonder?” “Hmm…About what?” How to reduce her carbon footprint? Whether the new Italian place was as good as everyone was saying? If her buyer for the Stovitz oil was serious about a second piece? If she’d be able to get Hedda to sit still—and not in a meditative state—long enough discuss a timetable for their plans? If her parents would finally relax and believe she was capable of taking care of herself? Ava squinted, her mouth turning down in distaste. “That.” Maggie followed her friend’s gaze to the red-checked cliché-in-action nestled into a

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shady corner of Wicker Park. And blinked. Twice. “The couple?” she wheezed. Then checking herself, let out a laugh, because, no way. Ava didn’t date any more than Maggie did—which meant only under the most dire of circ*mstances. And unless Maggie had missed significantly more than she’d realized this morning, these were not them. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m serious. I think maybe it’s time I stopped shutting down every guy who asks me out and start, I don’t know, opening myself up to the possibilities.” Eyes cranking around a beat before her head, Maggie gasped. “Wha—?” This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. Except that sour look of disgusted resignation on Ava’s face as she frowned across at the picnic set for two told Maggie…it was happening. Her friend was serious.

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“What’s going on? I mean, where’s this coming from?” Picking at the crumbs on a half-eaten cookie, Ava slumped deeper into the park bench, looking in that moment more like a sullen teen than the coolly confident, ballbusting lawyer she played in real life. She shook her head. “Everything’s so perfect now, you know?” Yeah, Maggie did know. Hence the confusion. “But what’s it going to be like in ten or fifteen years?” She let out another heavy sigh. “The guys, Sam and Ford—they’re idiots.” “Of course.” The best kind. Ford was Ava’s older brother, their landlord and the odd nut behind the number one phone and tablet app on the market, Hibachi Catapult. And Sam Farrow, general man-whor* and go-to guy for all things fix-it, was their oldest friend. Maggie loved them like family. Together Sam, Ford, and Ava were her core group of

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go-to friends. All romantically impaired with their own individual brand of relationship dysfunction. And it worked. Only apparently, Ava didn’t think so. “Some morning in the not too distant future, one of them is going to notice a few hairs on his pillow and an extra quarter inch of forehead where it hadn’t been before—and he’ll decide it’s time to stop sleeping his way through Chicagoland and set up house with some nice girl. And because neither of them are trolls and both have next to zero standards, whichever one it is will be married in less than a year. Six months max before the other goes lemming and follows suit. They’ll have kids and dogs and hockey practice at the crack of dawn on Saturday mornings and clay models of the solar system due for the science fair to finish on Tuesday nights. And,” Ava swallowed and took a breath,

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shaking her head, “they’ll take their wives to weddings instead of us.” Maggie coughed, choking on the thought of the last wedding she hit without Ford. The stilted small-talk and smarmy expectation gleaming in her date’s eyes. God help her, she never wanted to go there again. But seriously…“Ava, the guys are not getting married.” “Not today, but you know the girl Sam’s been seeing—Bethanne? She told me she thought they were getting serious.” Not likely. “Bethanne’s delusional.” “Yeah, I agree. But one of these days…one of these girls…” Two breaths passed before she went on. “Look, Maggie, I’m not talking about anything drastic. Just taking a chance once in a while. Giving someone else a chance for a change. Who knows, maybe finding out what it feels like to have a guy look at me the way those two look at each other. I mean, they seem happy,” Ava

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offered, sounding less enthused than resigned. “In love.” “Blindly so,” Maggie agreed. And that was the crux of it. Maggie already knew what it was to have a guy look at her like he’d do anything to stay with her forever. And no doubt, it was a heady thing. But there were risks inherent to that kind of ardor. Once a person experienced it, there wasn’t a lot they wouldn’t do to protect it. Like lie. To their partner. To themselves. Arms crossed at her chest, Maggie gave the picnic guy a thorough once-over. Sure, he seemed sort of harmless with the whole goofy smile and I’m-so-putting-my self-out-there eyes. But he could be anyone. He could be an embezzler or top chef at the Meth Emporium. Oh yeah, he probably planned to reform. Turn over a new leaf. Be the man his girl deserved. But would he ever tell her what he was into? Not if it meant there was a chance he’d lose—

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Stop. Ugh. She didn’t want to be that person. The glass-half-empty girl who wouldn’t let anyone else believe it was half-full. She wouldn’t be that person. Angling closer on the bench she leaned in shoulder to shoulder with Ava. “I think it’s great you’re opening yourself up to the possibilities and I’ll support you one hundred percent. But I’m just wondering—and I don’t want this to sound like I think it’s going to be a problem or anything, but—you don’t actually like anyone. Ever. At least not in a morethan-friends way.” “Right.” “So umm, how are you planning to get around that?” Ava outlined the rough plan she’d come up with: A single, mandatory date each month, where she gave the guys who met her criteria a chance—regardless of whether they floated

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her boat or not. And if she missed a month, she suffered a consequence. Some penalty stiff enough to ensure she didn’t blow it off. “Nice. You’ve got to make it something that’ll really hurt, though, so you can’t slack. And tie up all the little loopholes you’ll be trying to wiggle through too.“Hey, this was kind of fun. “Make rules about what constitutes a legitimate date and going out with the same guy over and over when you know it isn’t going anywhere. Tough love and all.” Maggie snickered, maybe enjoying the idea of Ava not making her monthly quota a skosh too much. Ava finished her cookie and then wiped her hands together, brushing off the crumbs. “Agreed. So you think this is a solid plan?” Blehh, but whatever. If Ava wanted to get her date on, who was Maggie to stop her? So working up some captain-of-the-cheer-squad enthusiasm, she beamed. “Totally. It’s a fantastic idea!”

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Honestly, there was no excuse for not seeing what came next. But reading the writing on the wall had never been Maggie’s strong suit. Especially as it applied to the people closest to her. “I’m glad you think so.” Ava grinned back at her, the glint of steel in her eyes unmistakable. “Because we’re making a pact and you’re doing this with me.” Hell.

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