As many of us know, preparing for the next generation's transition into adulthood is not for the faint of heart, so I'm trying to ease them (and me) into it. Join us each month for a new installment to see how the Callaghans & their croies are dealing with their children getting ready to leave the nest.

January: Jake & Taryn (Dangerous Secrets)

New Year’s Day at Jake’s Irish Pub

Taryn snuggled into the pillow, relishing the lingering warmth and scent of her husband Jake. The ideal, of course, would be to remain in bed, doing more of what they’d been doing on and off since they’d ushered the last of the revelers out and closed the bar around 2. Jake had specific ideas on how to start the new year off right, and she heartily approved. Why break tradition? They’d rung in their first new year in bed together, and every year since. Obviously, it worked. Three kids and decades later, they were not only still together, but more in love than ever.

Her ongoing obsession paused in the doorway, a ceramic mug in each hand, looking sexy as hell. His hair was still mussed from the way she’d grabbed on tugged on it earlier in the throes of passion. His strong, chiseled jaw was covered in pre-daily-shave scruff, giving him that rugged look she loved.

“You really are the perfect man,” she murmured.

A crooked, knowing smirk curled his delectable and very talented lips as he strutted—yes, strutted—to the bed. He handed her a mug, then set down the other before he turned and dropped the low-slung pajamas pants he’d donned to walk out to their kitchenette. Taryn licked her bottom lip and took a moment to appreciate the show, as he’d no doubt intended. Her husband was a damn fine-looking man. He knew how to push her buttons.

“See something you like?” he teased.

“Coffee? You bet.”

He made a growly noise in the back of his throat. It still had the power to raise her hackles and heat her blood.

“Just kidding,” she said with a smirk of her own. “I think you know exactly what you do to me.”

He grinned smugly at that and slid his naked body under the covers. She wasted no time propping herself up against his solid, warm body, fitting herself beneath his muscular arm.

They sat in the easy silence that comes with finding the other half of your soul, sipping their coffee and simply being together. It was the kind of thing you could only experience with someone you’d been to hell and back with. They’d been through a lot of New Years together but that first one would forever remain indelibly etched in her mind. That was when her new life had truly begun.

She glanced down at the antique silver ring on her left hand. In addition to the flawless diamond, the ring was embellished with tiny emeralds. On one side, the Callaghan family crest was intricately carved. It was a family heirloom, passed down from generation to generation.

“Jake?”

“Hm?”

“Why did you give me this ring?”

He glanced down at her. “I believe it’s tradition when you ask someone to marry you.”

“No, I mean, why this one. Shouldn’t it have gone to Kane as the eldest son?”

“He might be the oldest, but I was the first one to find my croie. Besides,” Jake added with a chuckle, “I don’t think any of us believed there was a woman alive capable of putting up with him.”

“He’s not so bad,” Taryn mused.

Jake snorted. It was true—Kane had the hardest shell to crack, but the man would move heaven and earth for those he cared about. Taryn learned that lesson firsthand. The Callaghan men - including Kane - were a loyal, protective bunch, especially when it came to family.

She, Jake, and Jack were the only ones who called the pub home now. The man cave still saw action on Sundays, but it wasn’t like it used to be. Taryn’s mind filled with images of New Years’ past, with a dozen or more kids of all ages in pajamas staying up all night playing video games with their uncles. She wasn’t sure who enjoyed it more—the little kids or the big ones.

“What do you think this year is going to bring?” she asked softly into the silence.

“I don’t know. Maybe you should ask Maggie when we see her and Mick later.”

Taryn laughed. Her sister-in-law had an almost eerie sixth sense about things, even though she continually denied it. Besides, Taryn wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

Her laughter faded and sighed. “The kids aren’t kids anymore.”

“No,” he agreed.

“Riley’s starting her own life. Rory and Daniel aren’t far behind. We’ll be empty nesters before we know it. How are we supposed to deal with that?”

Jake tightened his arm around her and nuzzled the sensitive spot beneath her ear. “I’ve got some ideas.”

She tilted to give him better access. “I like your ideas.”

“Besides,” he said, “it doesn’t matter how old they are. We’ll always be there for them. We’ve got their six.”

“Even if that means finding their croies?”

Jake sat up so quickly he sloshed his coffee and hers. “Bite your tongue, woman. They’re not ready for that. I’m not ready for that.”

As she grabbed a handful of tissues and began wiping away the spillage, he narrowed his eyes and said, “Wait. Do you know something I don’t know?”

“No,” she soothed. “Calm down, Papa Bear. I’m just saying, it’s going to happen eventually.” Probably sooner rather than later.

He grunted. “Fuck that.”

She smiled and laughed softly. She didn’t know what the year would bring, but she did know that destiny would have its wicked way with or without their blessing. Regardless of what came their way, they would handle it the way they handled everything.

Together.

Bring it on.

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February: Ian & Lexi (First & Only)

Groundhogs, Valentines, and Overprotective Dads

Ian placed the tray gently on the bedside table, careful not to spill even a drop of the imported coffee Lexi liked so much. The subtle scent of sweet citrus wafted into the room from the partially open bathroom door, mingling with the steam from the shower. He closed his eyes, taking a moment to breathe it in. It didn’t matter that he’d spent every night for the last several decades covering himself in that scent. He’d never get enough.

He stalked silently through plush carpeting until his hand hovered over the handle. Then he slowly pushed the door open, his heart going all jackhammer at the sight of his croie behind the fogged-up glass. He ran his tongue over his lower lip, envious of the droplets covering the expanse of satiny skin.

The urge to join her was strong, but he reined in his baser instincts. She deserved a few moments to herself, especially since he'd had her full attention for the majority of the morning.

As the water shut off, he reluctantly pulled the door closed and moved to the bed instead. Sitting with his back against the headboard, he grabbed one of the steaming mugs and pointed the remote at the television. The image of a fat, furry rodent being held in the arms of a tuxedoed, top-hatted guy immediately filled the screen.

“Fucking Phil,” Ian murmured, a smirk on his lips as live coverage from Gobbler’s Knob was blasted across the airwaves. Did anyone really believe a woodchuck could predict the weather? Maybe. After all, some people still believed the earth was flat. But for most, the ritual was just harmless fun. A bit of whimsy at a time when everyone had had enough of frigid temps and rock salt coated undercarriages.

“Did he see his shadow?” Lexi asked, emerging from the bathroom in a cloud of fragrant steam. Her skin was flushed, her multi-colored precious metal hair towel dried and damp, falling over her shoulders.

“Does it matter?”

She laughed. “Not really. Spring will get here when it gets here.”

Ian lifted the covers in invitation and she climbed in next to him. “Mmm, you made the good stuff. And you brought pastries! What’s the occasion?”

“Since when does there need to be an occasion for me to feed my woman?”

“Excellent point. Feel free to bring me coffee and chocolate croissants anytime.”

Lexi took a bite of the buttery, flaky pastry and hummed in appreciation. “Maggie made these?”

“Who else?” Ian said, reaching for his own.

"I guess that means Ryan's still waiting for his MCAT results."

It was a well-known fact that Maggie baked up a storm when she was anxious. "She's worrying for nothing. The kid's as smart as his old man."

They sipped and nibbled in silence for a while before Lexi said, “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“This. The peace. The quiet. Being able to lounge in bed over coffee and croissants.”

“It is,” he agreed.

She looked down at her coffee. “I’m not sure I’m ready, Ian.”

This was why pampering her was so important. They were entering a new phase in their lives. One where it was just the two of them. This was unfamiliar territory. They'd already had Patrick when they'd first moved in together.

Ian put his arm around Lexi’s shoulder and pulled her closer to him. With Patrick out of college and Kate living in an apartment near campus, daily life had become far less hectic. No more rushing around to catch the bus. No more complex planning getting the kids to practices, games, or rehearsals. It took some getting used to.

“It’s not like we have a choice,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “And I like the idea of having you all to myself. Of making love whenever and wherever the spirit moves us. Walking around naked sounds pretty damn good too.”

Lexi laughed softly, but he’d seen the flash of heat in her eyes. And thank God for that. All these years later, she was still right there with him. That's how it was with croies. Being together only got better with time.

“Besides," he continued, "Patrick’s living just down the road and picking up shifts at the pub. You see him practically every day. And Kate’ll be coming home for big Valentine’s party at the Goddess in two weeks.”

“Speaking of Kate, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Warning bells tolled softly in the back of his mind. He glanced at his wife. She was looking at her mug, not at him, and biting her lip. Never a good sign.

“Okay,” he said cautiously, sensing that whatever she had to say, he wasn't going to like it.

“Kate wants to bring someone home with her to go to the party.”

Ian exhaled his relief and settled back on the pillows. “Of course she can bring her friends here. Who is it? Maddy? Jessica? Ashley?”

Lexi cleared her throat. “Christopher.”

His arm froze, the mug halfway to his mouth. “Excuse me?”

“Christopher,” she repeated, her voice a little louder.

“Who the fuck is Christopher?” Ian demanded, sitting forward. “And what possible reason could she have for wanting to bring him here?"

But he already knew, didn't he? This was his worst nightmare come to life. The thing he'd been dreading since the moment he held his baby girl in his arms and she looked up at him with those big eyes.

“She’s been seeing him for a while, and—”

“And I’m just hearing about this now?” Ian said, his voice rising as he reached for his laptop on the bedside table. No need to panic. He had skills, goddammit. The guy could just disappear. No one would ever know. “What’s his last name? Where’s he from?”

“Ian,” Lexi said soothingly. “Calm down.”

“I am calm,” he growled. “Name?”

“She really likes him. And Patrick already vetted him.”

Ian’s eyes narrowed. “What did you say?”

“I said, Patrick already vetted him.”

A sense of betrayal ripped through him, startling in its intensity. “He knew?”

“Of course, he knew. He’s your son. He’s as protective of Kate as you are.”

Ian hmphed, only slightly appeased. Patrick did look out for his little sister. Always had. But still...

Lexi reached over and gently closed Ian’s laptop, adding a few strokes under the device as well. “Stalk later, when I don’t have you all to myself, okay?”

Ian growled but set the device aside and redirected his attention to something far more pleasurable. He never had been able to resist his croie. But once he dropped her off at the Goddess later, all bets were off...

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March: Michael & Maggie (House Calls)

Shamrocks & Snowstorms

“Mmm, smells delicious,” Michael Callaghan said, walking through the back door of the farmhouse he shared with his croie. His snow-covered hat, coat, and boots had already been dutifully hung in the mud room.

Maggie looked up from her task, hitting him with a dazzling smile. Her hands were wrapped around a rolling pin that had been her grandmother’s, skillfully flattening dough on a board the size of their kitchen table. How often had he come home from a lousy day and found her just like this?

His chest loosened and the feeling of home settled over him, soaking into his bones in a blissful kind of contentment. The very first time he’d ever stepped foot in this kitchen had been the night he met her, and he’d had visions of Maggie just like this—wearing that pink apron, so happy to see him, smiling at him like he was her world. Those visions had hit him like a freight train back then, sudden, powerful, and crystal clear. These days, they were his anchor. His compass. His reality.

Michael couldn’t help but smile back at her. Powdered sugar dusted her lips and cheeks. There were even traces of it across her eyebrows and lashes, probably a result of using the back of her hand to push errant tendrils of hair away from her face. The white streaks were the perfect complement to her cherry-cola colored hair and sparkling green eyes.

He forced his gaze away, taking in the bowls of covered dough, the open canister of flour, and the assortment of pastry tools and scrapers. Maggie always baked when she was nervous or anxious, and it didn’t take his genius level IQ to reason out that she was worried about the boys. Their oldest, Ryan, was working with Doctors Without Borders and had recently been deployed to Central America. Colin, their youngest, was due back from his final collegiate spring break, but Mother Nature was making travel difficult.

“Fastnachts for Fat Tuesday?” he guessed, lifting the heavy linen covering atop one of the many baskets sitting atop the counters. The Pennsylvania Dutch staple was typically enjoyed on Shrove Tuesday.

“Beignets,” she corrected. “New recipe.”

He grabbed one and lifted it to his mouth, closing his eyes in bliss at the light and fluffy deep-fried goodness. “Laissez les bon temps rouler,” he murmured.

“Good times, huh?” she grinned at him, her eyes dancing. “Do you think you’re going to get lucky, Dr. Callaghan?”

“March is traditionally a lucky month for the Callaghan clan,” he told her.

So lucky in fact, that he and his six brothers had been given the middle name of Patrick, since all had either been born or conceived in March.

“Aye, so it ‘tis at that.”

He loved when she spoke with that lilting Irish brogue. It did things to him, resonating deep in his chest.

And other areas.

Going with the sudden urge to feel her against him, he pulled her closer.

“Michael! I’m covered in powdered sugar,” she exclaimed, but her protest was weak.

He leaned down and stroked her lips with his tongue. “Yes. What’s your point? Because I’m not seeing a downside here.”

She moaned softly, molding her body to his even as her fingers went into his hair and her short nails scraped along his scalp. Always so receptive. Alway so right there with him.

Additional visions assaulted him, like lifting her up onto the table and preparing a sweet treat of his own.

“We should stop,” Maggie said breathlessly. “We’ll have to head to the airport soon.”

Michael pulled away with reluctance but kept his arms around her. “Actually, there’s been a change in plans.”

“Oh?”

“The storm is turning out to be more than predicted. Instead of moving on, it’s intensifying. They’re closing the airport.”

As expected, her body tensed as she went full throttle into Mama Bear mode. “How is Colin going to get home? What’s he going to do? What if he’s stuck in an airport somewhere?”

“Relax, Mama Bear. He’s fine. He called me a little while ago. They’re extending their stay.” Michael smirked. “And to be completely honest, I don’t think he’s all that broken up about it.”

Maggie sighed. “I guess I wouldn’t be either. Lounging on a tropical beach sounds pretty good right about now.”

“Hm, it does, doesn’t it? Maybe we should think about getting away ourselves.”

Her green eyes began to swirl. “Can we?”

“I don't see why not.”

In fact, Michael had already made reservations at Sate for later in the month. Owned by former Pine Ridge billionaire Spencer Dumas, the private island resort was a hedonistic, all-inclusive adult paradise. With the boys practically adults and the Celtic Goddess handling much of the farm management these days, Maggie was feeling a little lost, and Michael couldn’t think of a better way to distract her and ease her into this new empty nester phase. Besides, they’d never really had a proper honeymoon, what with Maggie getting pregnant right away.

“What about your work?” she asked.

Most of his work these days was in the lab. “It’s not going anywhere, and I think it’s a good time. You’ve always said you wanted to travel.”

Guarded excitement lit her eyes from within. “Yeah?”

He swept a tendril of hair back and tucked in behind her ear. “Yes. How's the end of the month sound to you?”

“After St. Patrick’s Day,” she nodded. “Good. That’s always such a busy time at the pub, what with the Wake and all.” Then she frowned. “But a few weeks isn’t a lot of time to prepare. How could we possibly plan a vacation that quickly? There’s so much to do.”

“Maggie.”

“I know—I’ll make an appointment with a travel agency. They should be able to help. I mean, that’s what they do, right?”

“Maggie,” he tried again.

“What’s the one Kayla used to work for over there in Brandyville? You Deserve a Break or something? I wonder if anyone’s in the office now. Oh, and we’ll have to make arrangements for someone to look after the house and the fields and such. I know this is generally a slow time of year, but Tina Obermacher said it’s a really important time for the orchards.”

“Maggie.”

“What?”

She stopped long enough to look at him and give him her full attention. Then her eyes narrowed. “You’ve already organized everything, haven’t you?”

“I have.”

“What if I'd said no?”

He chuckled and leaned down to nuzzle beneath her jaw. Just that quickly, she tilted her head to give him better access. “Then I would have spent the next thirty-six hours convincing you.”

“Thirty-six hours? Why thirty-six?” she groaned softly, leaning her lower body into his.

“That’s how long the storm is supposed to last. But who knows? It could go as long as three days.”

He untied the apron from around her neck and let it fall, then began pressing kisses to her collar bone. “Do you remember the last time we had a storm that lasted that long, Maggie?”

“How can I forget?” she said, laughed softly even as her cheeks grew a rosy pink. “It was the night I fell off the table doing the dance of the seven veils at Ian’s bachelor party.”

“What do you say we try to recreate those three days, regardless of how the storm lasts?”

“I say, I never could say no to you, Michael.”

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April: Sean & Nicki (Seeking Vengeance)

When April Fool's Turns Steamy

Nicki kept her breathing deep and even as Sean lifted the sheet. She could feel his eyes raking down her back, no doubt taking in the love bites and hickies he’d left in the throes of passion. Heard his quiet, self-satisfied grunt before he pulled the covers back up to her shoulders and slipped quietly out of bed. For as large as he was, her husband had the stealth of a smaller and younger man.

A lot of that could be attributed to lifestyle. Working out at the family gym, muscling around engine blocks on a daily basis, and staying active in the family business—the one that didn’t involve the pub. And then there were the regular workouts she put him through.

Like last night, for example. With the kids out of the house, they were like newlyweds again.

Unable to resist the view, she opened her eyes to narrow slits. Sean padded silently to the bathroom, his broad shoulders, narrow waist, and tight butt sporting possessive marks of their own. A familiar heat warmed her from the inside out. Even after more than twenty years together, the man lit a fire in her soul.

The door closed behind him, and moments later the shower came on. As visions of joining him and running slick, soapy hands over his body assaulted her, Nicki called on her self-control and remained where she was.

She had to stay true to her mission. Once completed, the delayed gratification would be epic.

He came out after a few minutes, bringing with him the scent of clean, fresh male. She didn’t have to see him to know that he was naked. She could sense it, just as she could sense that he was staring over at the bed, hoping she would wake up and see him standing there, knowing she wouldn’t be able to resist lifting the covers and inviting him back to bed to get dirty all over again.

Seconds ticked by in silence until he sighed and pulled on clothes.

She continued the possum routine until she was certain he’d left. The twinge of regret was overridden by the excitement bubbling in her veins.

Sean would be gone most of the day. Jaxson Adams had invited him along to check out some classic American muscle cars up for auction. Jaxson had a restoration shop over in Sumneyville, and told Sean about a lead on a 1970 Dodge Challenger R/T with a 426 HEMI. Sean been wanting one for as long as Nicki had known him. Truth be told, so had Nicki, so it was a win-win.

What Sean didn’t know was that the Challenger had been sold months ago.

To her.

The plan had been to fix it up and give it to Sean for Valentine’s Day, but it had been harder tracking down parts than expected. So April Fool’s Day it was.

And really, what was April Fool's Day without a prank?

With Sean occupied and the kids off doing their own things, Nicki had the place to herself. She took her time setting everything up—clues, candles, whiskey … and some new toys. She liked to keep things interesting and exciting.

Once all that was done, she soaked in a hot bath and continued with her personal prep. By the time Jaxson dropped Sean off out front, night had fallen, and she was ready.

"Sorry the Challenger turned out to be a bust," Jaxson said.

“Thanks,” Sean replied as he unfolded his big body from the car.

“Hey man, everything happens for a reason.”

Sean grunted and closed the door. He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up. He should have known a vehicle like that would be snapped up by a private buyer before it went public.

He opened the door to the apartment and felt even worse. The room was dark, a glass-enclosed candle lending a warm glow. Beside it, a bottle of his favorite whiskey, two shot glasses, and a note.

Come find me and we can celebrate together

He exhaled. Nicki wanted that car as much as he did. His own disappointment, he could handle. Hers, not so much. He’d just have to make it up to her in other ways.

The thought brightened his mood. Coming up with creative ways to satisfy his croie always did.

He stalked through the apartment. All was quiet. The lights had been dimmed. His anticipation grew with each step as he approached the bedroom...

...only to find it empty. Another candle, another note.

Try again. P.S. I bought toys.

Jesus.

Now he wasn’t thinking about the Challenger at all. A familiar buzz settled over him, his skin humming with the excitement of the mission.

He searched the entire apartment and came up empty. The only place he hadn’t looked? The garage.

He knew he was on the right track when he opened the door to the private staircase and heard Nicki’s power ballad playlist playing in the background down below. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he found another candle, another note.

Track me, baby.

His blood was sizzling now, the thrill of the chase manifesting throughout his body. He moved from bay to bay in the near darkness.

Nothing.

At the far end, he paused at the door leading to the back of the lot where the private garage was, the one where he and Nicki worked on their personal project cars and bikes. A path of candles in glass lit the way.

You’re getting warmer

No longer trying to be stealthy, he pushed through the door and jogged across the pavers to the private garage. Keying in the code, he opened the door, stepped inside, and … stopped dead in his tracks.

The entire space was lit with candles, and not only was Nicki waiting for him in leather-strapped lingerie, but she was sprawled across the hood of a fully restored 1970 Dodge Challenger.

Everything happens for a reason indeed.

Because he was a man who had his priorities straight, he stalked across the space, tugged on his croie’s legs until her hips were right on the edge, unzipped his fly, and took care of his number one priority first: her.

It was only afterward, when Nicki was boneless and he’d taken the edge off, that he said, “You’re the private buyer.”

“I am,” she purred.

“You let me drive all the way out to Harrisburg for a car you’d already bought.”

She tightened her powerful thighs around his hips, squeezing him in ways that made his vision blur. “I wanted to surprise you. Pretty good April Fool’s prank, huh?”

He growled. “Does that mean you were kidding about the toys, too?”

Her eyes flashed. “Open the trunk and find out.”

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May: Kane & Rebecca (Guardian Angel)

Mountain Secrets & Mother's Day Surprises

Kane leaned against the door jamb and looked out onto the deck. He wasn’t one to wax poetic, but he couldn’t imagine a more beautiful scene. The sun was just rising above the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of deep blue, vivid purple, and vibrant orange. The seasonal trees that surrounded his cabin were once again full and in various shades of contrasting green. The spring rain that had drenched the mountain overnight had moved on, and a light fog hovered just above the ground, giving the place an ethereal, otherwordly feel.

None of that was what caught his attention, however. They were simply a backdrop for the true focus of his attention.

Rebecca lounged in the hot tub, her blonde hair piled loosely on top of her head. Wavy ringlets cascaded down over the delicate column of her neck, curling in the heat and humidity. Her scars were barely visible from his angle, but each one was deeply engraved into his mind’s eye - including the bullet she’d taken for him in the jungle that fateful day decades earlier.

For years he had touched those scars, kissed them, tried to erase every painful memory she had with something more powerful. Thinking about how she got them gutted every damn time, but they had also forged her into a woman strong enough to be his equal.

To be his croie.

Without turning around or opening her eyes, she asked, “Are you going to stand there watching me all morning or are you going to join me?”

His woman had a sixth sense. She always knew when he was near.  “Just enjoying the view.”

“Can’t you enjoy it from in here?”

Something within him stirred at the subtle, playful invitation. “In a minute.”

“Suit yourself.”

Rebecca exhaled and moved to the far side of the hot tub with slow, graceful movements. Kane’s eyes followed, greedily drinking in the supple curves, struck with a powerful urge to lick the drops clinging to her skin. 

Kane sucked in a breath when she turned, spread her arms across the back, and presented him with a full frontal view.

Her eyes blazed with heat and challenge even as a low, rumbling growl started deep in his chest. His woman was the only one in the world who could bring him to his knees with just a look. That look, specifically.

Slowly, he shrugged out of his flannel, tossing it on the floor. Reached back, fisted his T-shirt, and pulled it up and over his head.

Rebecca’s lids lowered to half-mast, her eyes latching on to every deliberate movement. She bit her lip when his hands went for the fastening of his jeans. 

Then it was her turn to suck in a breath.

Because yeah, he’d gone commando.

Fully naked, Kane stalked over to the hot tub and lowered himself into the water. He hadn’t fully seated himself when Rebecca was on him, straddling his lap.

“What took you so long?” she breathed and claimed his lips.

And people thought he was the possessive one.

Later, Kane came in from chopping wood, inhaling the heavenly scents of fresh coffee and smoked bacon. He crossed the kitchen, drawn to Rebecca like a magnet. She leaned back into him as he nuzzled her neck.

“Smells delicious,” Kane murmured against her skin.

She laughed. “Me or the bacon?”

“Both.” He nipped her lightly with his teeth and pulled back. “What’s the occasion?"

“You earned it today,” she said with a satisfied grin. “Besides, Michael said you needed to cut down on the processed meats, not give them up entirely.”

He grunted softly. He hated that they were at the age where things like cholesterol and joint inflammation mattered, but Rebecca made it far less painful.

His cell phone vibrated with an incoming call. “It’s Aislinn,” he said, checking the screen. Right on time. “I’ll put it on speaker.”

“Hey,” he said by way of greeting while Rebecca chimed in a hello, followed by, “Flying out soon?”

“Not exactly,” Aislinn answered.

Kane said nothing. According to the sat tracker, she’d left Jaspar forty-eight hours earlier. A man didn’t let his little girl go backpacking across Canada without safeguards. Didn’t matter that she was a fully grown young woman, or that she excelled at Krav Maga and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu and could shave the whisker off a woodchuck at more than half a click.

“Change in plans," Aislinn said. "There was a massive rock slide. I’m okay but some hikers were cut off. I offered to help.”

That part was one hundred percent true. Aislinn simply neglected to mention that it had happened more than a week earlier.

“Of course,” Rebecca said. “I’m proud of you for helping. Just be safe, okay?”

“I will. I’m sorry, Mom. Happy Mother’s Day!” A shout sounded from somewhere on Aislinn’s end. “Gotta go. Love you guys!” Then the connection was broken.

“Like mother, like daughter,” Kane said, tossing the phone on the counter. “Can’t walk away when people are in trouble.”

“Smarter than me, though,” Rebecca said as she stepped into Kane's embrace and laid her head on his chest. “And more able to take care of herself than I ever was, thanks to you.”

He grunted again. “The best of both of us.”

She sighed heavily. “I guess we should cancel dinner reservations at the Goddess, huh?”

“We’re going,” Kane said firmly.

“But—"

“No buts.”

Rebecca leaned back and looked at him as if he’d grown another head. “Are you seriously telling me that you’d rather get dressed up and go down into Pine Ridge than spend a quiet evening here? Who are you and what have you done with my husband?”

His croie knew him so well. Or thought she did. He still had some tricks up his sleeve. “It’s still Mother’s Day, and you’re still a mom. Now come on,” he said with a gentle pat to her backside. “Late breakfast, shower, then we hit the road."

"If you're sure."

"I'm sure," he said. 

Because he knew that their daughter had taken an earlier flight and would be waiting at the Celtic Goddess...

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June: Shane & Lacie (Beyond Affection)

Dads & Grads, Callaghan Style

Lacie

The moment Lacie opened the door, the warm, savory scent of dinner greeted her like a hug. God bless whoever invented the crock pot. Toss everything in, turn it on low, and let it work its magic while life happened.

Between school, games, and practices for their three high-energy kids, life was hectic, especially when Shane was away. Her croí was an incredible husband and an even better father. Patient. Present. Ever a calming presence in a sea of organized chaos.

She changed into jeans and one of Shane’s worn shirts from the laundry, inhaling his scent—clean, warm, and subtly spiced. Like the man himself. So reserved on the surface, but with darker, fiercely protective undertones.

Their daughter Fallon arrived first, dressed in dance leggings and ballet flats. She dropped her bag off and joined Lacie in the kitchen.

“How was practice?” Lacie asked, grabbing bowls out of the cupboard.

“Good. Aunt Corinne said she’ll call you later about the graduation party.”

Right. Their oldest, Liam, was graduating in less than a week, along with some of Corinne’s foster kids. They’d agreed to hold the celebration at her place this year, making good use of her twenty-odd acres.

The thunk of a sports bag and the slam of the door signaled Briar’s arrival. Same blue eyes, same face as her identical twin, but she wore her team cap low and her jersey smudged with dust and clay.

“Hey Mom,” she greeted, then grabbed an apple and turned to Fallon. “Did you talk to her?”

Fallon shook her head. “Not yet. I just walked in.”

“Talk to me about what?” Lacie asked.

The girls shared a look.

“Father’s Day,” they said in unison.

“We want to do something special for Dad this year,” Briar clarified. “And we’re gonna need your help…”

Shane

Graduation Party at Nick and Rinn’s

Shane leaned back and took a sip from his beer. Hard to believe Liam had graduated just days ago. It felt like yesterday that Lacie had told him—over candlelight and lasagna—that they were expecting. And then, not long after, the shock-and-awe news: twins.

He didn’t cry often. He could count the number of times on one hand. When his mother died. When he’d found Lacie after her abduction. And the first time he’d held each of his kids in his arms.

Now, watching from the deck as Fallon and Briar launched a sneak attack on their brother—who toppled headfirst into the pool—his vision blurred again. Not from grief, but gratitude. With his photographic memory, every cherished moment was right there in his mind’s eye.

His twin Sean dropped into the chair beside him and tapped their bottles together. “Congrats. One down, two to go.”

“Not sure I’m ready,” Shane admitted.

“We never are. Still happens. They grow up and move on. All we can do is make the moments count while they’re still close.”

Rare words from Sean—who usually preferred action to sentiment.

“Spoken like a man whose kids have already left the nest,” Shane said.

Sean smirked. “Not gonna lie—it’s weird. But it has perks.”

Yeah, Shane had heard about those perks. Croíe talk spread fast.

“Dad did this seven times,” Shane said. “Think he felt like this?”

“Maybe," Sean said with a shrug. "We never really left, though, did we?”

Shane chuckled. “Remember how we used to spend every Father’s Day at the family cabin? Just the seven of us and Dad. Hunting. Fishing. Hiking.”

“Good times,” Sean agreed.

Great memories, Shane thought. And maybe... due for a revival.

The next morning, Shane woke late to the sound of footsteps and muffled voices below. He threw on jeans and a tee and headed downstairs, expecting to find the usual whirlwind of weekend activity.

Instead, Lacie stood alone in the kitchen.

“Everyone’s gone?” he asked, slipping his arms around her and pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Yep,” she replied, tilting her head with a smile.

“So it’s just us?” he asked, shifting his hips suggestively.

“Just us.”

“Want to make the most of it?”

She laughed softly. “Always. But… we’ve got somewhere to be.”

He groaned. “Where?”

“Kane needs you to check out a property. Thinks it’s a good investment.”

Shane nuzzled her neck. “Then Kane can check it out.”

“I already told him we would.”

Damn it. His croie was too nice sometimes. “What time?”

“Noon. It’s a long drive though.”

In one smooth move, he lifted her onto the counter, stepping between her legs.

“Well,” Lacie said, breathless, her arms around his neck. “Maybe we’ve got time…”

Two hours later, they were winding their way up a familiar mountain road.

“Where exactly is this place?” Shane asked, eyeing the turns.

“Remember the cabin we used to rent?”

He looked at her. “Yes.”

“It’s near there.”

But when she turned down a long, pine-shaded drive, Shane realized the property wasn’t near the cabin he remembered. It was the cabin.

“Lacie…”

Her grin said everything. “Surprise.”

“You rented the cabin?”

“Not exactly.” She paused. “I bought it.”

Certain he'd heard wrong, he echoed, “You bought it?”

“Well, we did. It was the kids’ idea.”

“They’re here?”

She nodded. “The came up early to get everything ready.”

Moisture blurred his vision again, unexpected and overwhelming. Now he’d have to count on both hands.

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July: Kieran & Faith (Having Faith)

Fireworks and Sultry Summer Surprises

Kieran stepped into the kitchen, following the delicious scents of homemade waffles—topped with fresh strawberries and blueberries and a generous pile of whipped cream.

“Fourth of July breakfast,” he said, using the name their daughter Kassidy had coined as a toddler when she first saw the colorful plate of red, white, and blue.

“Of course. What else would we have today?” Faith turned around from the waffle iron and gifted him with a smile that had brought him to his knees more than once.

Decades. They’d been together for decades, and the woman still sent his pulse racing with nothing more than a curve of those delectable lips.

That’s how it was with croies.

“Thanks for letting me sleep in today.”

Her eyes went molten. “You deserved it. You and your brothers were up half the night setting up the fireworks for tonight’s show.”

And the other half was spent giving her pleasure while the kids camped out in the backyard—a summertime favorite.

Kieran stepped up behind her, grabbed her hips, and pulled her lush backside against his hips. She sighed and leaned back into him, tilting her head to give him access to the sensitive spot beneath her ear.

“Where is everyone?” he asked.

“At Matt and Anna’s.”

Kieran chuckled. “I should have known.”

Their oldest son Matt and his new bride Anna had purchased the house next door, formerly owned by their centenarian matchmaking neighbor, Elsa Campbell. The houses were offset, with their cottage far back and Matt’s closer to the road, with plenty of trees and arborvitae providing privacy between them.

Ever since Matt added a waterfall slide to the existing inground pool, it had become the younger kids’ favorite place to be. Still, Kieran worried about taking advantage. Matt and Anna were still in the honeymoon phase of their marriage. Though with croies, that phase never really ended.

“Don’t worry,” Faith said, reading his mind. “Kass is up there, keeping them out of Matt and Anna’s hair.”

Kassidy was their oldest daughter, and very responsible when it came to her younger siblings.

“You mean we have the house to ourselves?” he said, pressing even closer, shifting his hips suggestively.

“We do.”

In a smooth move, Kieran scooped her into his arms and headed for the stairs. “Breakfast can wait.”

Later, it was Faith who entered the kitchen, freshly showered and oh-so-satisfied, to find Kieran polishing off the now-soggy waffles and cleaning up. She took a moment to wonder at how this man had become her everything. Her protector. Her champion. Her biggest supporter. And a lover that surpassed her most erotic fantasies.

“You’re staring at my ass,” Kieran said without turning around, amusement thick in his voice.

She was, it was true. But she was also appreciating his broad back, muscular arms, trim waist, and powerful legs. As the co-owner and operator of BodyWorks, he was a walking advertisement for the popular fitness center.

“Do you mind?”

“Hell, no. I’m yours. You can do whatever you want with me.”

She smiled, knowing he was one-hundred percent sincere about that—and she’d taken advantage of it more than once.

“Kids aren’t back yet?”

“Not yet. I went up a few minutes ago. Matt put in a volleyball net. They’re having a blast.” Kieran folded the towel and hung it on the oven door handle.

Faith shook her head. “They’ll never get rid of them now.”

“Nah, I told them they had another fifteen minutes before they had to come home.”

“Softie.”

His voice dropped. “That’s not what you said upstairs.”

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks because yeah, he’d been anything but soft.

Kieran smirked, sensing the direction her thoughts had taken, but didn't call her on it. “Matt and Anna offered to take the kids to see the fireworks tonight.”

“Why would they do that?”

“Because”—he leaned in and brushed his lips against her ear—"I’ve got other plans for you.”

“Oh? What did you have in mind?”

“It’s a surprise.”

She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, pressing a kiss to his throat. “Mm, I like when you surprise me. But I like it even more when I know exactly what’s coming.”

His response was a low, rumbling, sexy growl. “That’s easy. You. Multiple times.”

From beyond the open back door, they heard the kids returning.

“I don’t know why we can’t go out on the boat to watch the fireworks on the lake tonight too,” their youngest Finn groused loudly.

“I already told you. Because Dad wants to surprise Mom with a romantic dinner on the lake,” Kass explained. “And we’ll have more fun at the park anyway.”

“I guess,” Finn said, but he didn’t sound happy about it.

Faith chuckled and looked up at Kieran. “A romantic dinner on the lake, huh?”

He sighed. “I thought it might be nice. Dinner. Candlelight. Watching the fireworks from the water. Having you all to myself for a few hours.”

“Sounds amazing,” she said. Placing another kiss to the bottom of his jaw, she turned and began walking away. “And, since it’ll just be us …”

“Yes?”

She paused at the door and gave him a devilish smile over her shoulder. “I just might forget to pack our bathing suits.”

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August: Aidan and Mary (Bottom Line)

Dog Days, For Real

Aidan stood in front of the bathroom mirror, nothing but a towel around his waist. He wiped at the glass, frowning when he realized it wasn’t the steam making him look paler and less defined. Apparently, his good genes were aging right along with the rest of him.

He took care of himself. He stayed hydrated and avoided sitting too long, both of which helped keep his thrombophilia in check. Partook in regular cardio, strength, and flexibility workouts—mostly with his Mary. She really was his perfect woman. 

“What’s on your mind?” she asked later over breakfast and coffee.

She knew him so well. “Do I look … older to you?”

Her smile came easily. “You look like you always do—polished, sexy, and all mine.” The last was edged with the possessiveness he adored.

“Besides,” she continued, sipping her coffee, “we vowed to age gracefully together. It wouldn’t be fair if I got fine lines and the occasional gray hairs and you didn’t.”

“You’re just as beautiful today as the day I met you.”

She smirked. “The day you met me, you were falling down drunk.”

 “And thank God for that. You wouldn’t have taken pity on me otherwise.”

“True,” she agreed.

When she rose to take her coffee to the sink, he followed behind, the sway of her hips a siren’s call. Grabbing her waist, he pressed his hips into her suggestively. “I remember something else about those early days, too.”

She moaned softly, allowing him to take control, just as she had then. So responsive, even after all these years. But, as the Callaghans often told him, the connection between croies only grew deeper over time. He’d hardly dared hope then, but twenty years later, here they were. A little older, a little wiser, and closer than ever. And over that time, she’d never asked for more than his love, even though his—their—net worth was now in the billions.

Many times, he’d tried to lavish her with the finer things in life—cars, jewelry, vacation homes, extravagant getaways—and she still preferred a simple night at home. A candlelight dinner. Snuggling up and watching a Monty Python movie together. Getting lost in each other in the special playroom he’d had custom built.

He loved doing all those things with her. But he wanted to do more. Something that would utterly delight her, and clear some of the shadows that lurked behind her eyes in those quiet moments when he knew she was thinking about Max. The yellow Lab had been such an integral part of their lives, and his passing more than a year earlier had left a gaping hole.

Maybe, he thought as he drove to work later that morning, it was finally time to do something about that. Enough time had passed, and Mary needed someone to care for; it was just in her nature. The more he thought about it, the more he knew it was the right idea. All he had to do was call in a few favors…

Mary was in the greenhouse, lost in trimming back overzealous bloomers. This was where she felt most at peace—hands in rich soil, surrounding by plants and flowers.

“Hey, Mary, can you come up front for a minute?” her longtime business partner Andrew asked, peering into the glass enclosure.

“Sure. Be right there.”

She straightened, taking a moment to stretch out the kinks. She was feeling them more than usual today, probably because Aidan had brought up the subject of aging earlier. They weren’t old, she told herself. 50s were the new 30s, right?

Her eyes caught on the corner of the orthopedic dog bed she’d pushed back between the fiddle leaf figs and the Boston ferns, spearing her with a familiar ache. Max had been gone for a while now, but he’d been such a big part of her life for so long that it still felt as if there was a hole in her heart.

Tucking away the sorrow, she removed her gloves and went out to the front. Her mood instantly lifted when she saw Penny Adams—a fellow plantswoman who worked in her family’s shop in Sumneyville—chatting with Andrew. Their shared love of flowers had made them fast friends.

“Penny! What a nice surprise!” Mary said. “What are you doing here?”

“Jax came to Birch Falls to see Kyle about some bike thing, and I tagged along,” Penny answered, her eyes twinkling. “I thought you might want to hit O’Leary’s with me and grab some lunch.”

Andrew made a shooing motion.  “Go. I’ve got everything covered here. Just bring me back some of Keely’s rolls.”

“You got it.”

Removing her apron, Mary hung it up on a peg, grabbed her purse, and was out the door, glad for the distraction.

Lunch with Penny turned out to be exactly what she’d needed. Good food and good company lifted her out of her earlier funk. Mary made a mental note to do that more often.

Andrew had the phone to his ear when she returned. By the looks of things, he was on hold.

“Anything interesting happen while I was gone?” she asked.

“Got a delivery. I put it in the back for you.” He thumbed absently toward the greenhouse.

Mary frowned. She hadn’t been expecting a delivery today. “What—” she began to ask, but Andrew turned his attention back to the phone and started typing on his laptop.

“How many, you said? And you need them when?”

Mary left him to it. There was a reason he managed the business aspect of things and left the plants to her.

Walking into the greenhouse, she scanned for whatever might have been delivered, spotting a large cardboard box beneath a lush bird of paradise.

Then she heard it. A shuffling. A shifting. A … whimper?

Her feet quickly carried her forward. Peering inside, she sucked in a breath when a tiny bundle of fluff with a big red bow looked up at her with soulful eyes. Her heart melted instantly. Black and chonky, he had massive paws that suggested he would someday become a monster.

Tears clouded her vision as she reached down and picked up the little guy, laughing when he began to lick and nip at her chin.

“Love at first sight,” said a deep male voice with amusement. “Something he and I have in common.”

“Aidan!” she exclaimed. “Why?”

Her husband shrugged. “Because he needed a home. I thought maybe we could give him one.”

Mary snuggled the puppy closer. If she hadn’t already loved him heart and soul, she would have in that moment. Aidan, the man who had everything, never failed to give her exactly what she needed.

“How did I get so lucky?”

“Funny,” he said, wrapping his arms around the both of them. “I was just asking myself the same thing.”

Back to top

September: Jack & Kathleen (Forever Mine)

A Change in the Air

Jack Callaghan walked out of Jake’s Irish Pub and paused. The old girl looked a hell of a lot better now than when he’d first bought it. Back then, the paint had been peeling. The roof needed replacing. The windows were too grimy to see through and the sills were rotting away.

That was just the outside. The inside had been even worse.

Kathleen had been so angry when he brought her back here on their wedding night. Or, more accurately, the anger came the next day, when he told her he’d spent their honeymoon money as a down payment on Finnegan’s decrepit old pub.

The thought made him smile. His Kathleen had had such spirit. It was one of the things he loved most about her. That, and her brilliant mind, her limitless compassion, and her inner strength. Mostly, he just loved her. She was his croie in every sense of the word.

Of course, now he understood why she’d been so mad. It wasn’t because he’d bought the place, but because he hadn’t discussed it with her first. He’d been young and stupid then, assuming the unspoken rules of his parents’ generation: Men handled the business. Women handled the home.

Marriage was a partnership, Kathleen had told him, and, as usual, she was right. Whether refurbishing the pub, raising kids, or making ends meet, they’d done it together.

Until they didn’t.

There was a lot he didn’t remember about that day or the days afterward—until Kathleen came back to him. Not in body, but in spirit. And she’d been with him every day since. Raising the kids. Watching them become fine men with families of their own. Reminding him that he had a purpose to fulfill before he could join her again.

Lord knew, he wouldn't have made it this long without her, encouraging him to keep the faith.

The drive to the cemetery didn’t take long. The walk up the slight incline seemed to take longer each time, his old bones and joints not what they used to be.

Jack sank down onto the bench the boys had put there for him. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply. Autumn was just around the corner. He could smell it in the faint scent of the first fallen leaves, mixed with the freshly mown grass.

He smiled when he felt her familiar presence wrap around him, filling him was a sense of calm and a profound, deep love. This wasn’t the only place where he felt his croie, but the connection was stronger when there weren’t as many distractions.

They talked about the kids. About how their youngest, Kieran, was now older than Jack was when she’d moved on. And their grandkids, most of whom were at or approaching adulthood. He told her about the recently discovered branches to the Callaghan family tree - thanks, in part, to her meticulous notes in the family bible, and how he was thinking of taking Donal O'Callaghan up on his offer to visit his ancestral lands.

“You’ve always wanted to visit Ireland and see where you came from,” Kathleen’s voice said in his head.

“Aye.”

“So what’s holding you back?”

Long minutes passed before Jack said softly, “Because I’m not sure I’ll come back.”

Kathleen’s spirit was a warm embrace, infusing him with the kind of inner peace only possible with the other half of your soul. “What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know. Call it a feeling. Something in the air. The sense that things are about to change.”

“Well, it is nearly autumn,” she reminded him, amusement lightening her tone.

True, but there was something more to it than the change of seasons. After experiencing the shift for more than seven decades, this felt different. Important.

“I don’t suppose you can tell me, can you? Give me a hint so I can prepare?”

“You know it doesn’t work that way.”

He sighed. “Yes, I know. I’m just saying, a heads up would be nice.”

“That would change the course of things, Jack.”

“I thought our fate was already laid out.”

“Milestones are, but our paths are our own. Knowing what’s ahead can alter your path and lead you farther away from where you’re supposed to be.”

“I know exactly where I’m supposed to be,” Jack said firmly. “With you.” Fate always made sure croies ended up together, and Jack wasn’t about do anything that would delay getting him to the finish line, where he knew Kathleen was waiting.

When the sun began to set, Jack rose, gave his bones and joints a minute to adjust, then began a slow walk back to the car. Pulling out his phone, he tapped a recently added contact, then held the phone to his ear.

“Jack. ‘Tis good to hear from you. Have you decided to take me up on my offer then?”

 “Aye, Donal,” Jack said. “I think I will at that.”

Back to top

October: Spencer & Kayla (Two of a Kind)

Pining for Home

Spencer Dumas leaned against the doorframe, taking the opportunity to observe Kayla in a rare, unguarded moment. She stared out of the floor to ceiling windows of her office, her expression pensive. His chest squeezed, just as it always did when he looked at his wife.   

His wife. Such a simple, 4-letter word, and yet one that still managed to amaze him. Not because he’d never expected to get married, but because of the why of it.

It wasn't for money or power or any of the usual reasons Dumases engaged in mergers of the matrimonial kind. He married her because he couldn’t imagine his life without her. She was every bit as passionate, every bit as ruthless, and every bit as devious as he was, in all the right ways.

As if sensing his presence, her gaze shifted, locking onto him with laser-like focus. Her eyes softened, her lips curled up in a smile that had the power to both redeem and destroy him.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Not long.” Hands in pockets, he stalked across the expanse of office, his steps silent in the lush pile. Kayla licked her lips, her gaze raking along his body from head to toe, not bothering to bank the growing heat in her eyes.

Another thing that amazed him? After more than a decade of wedded bliss, he still got hard with nothing more than a sultry look from those incredible, come-hither eyes.

He moved behind her, brushed her hair to the side, and placed a kiss on the pulse point below her ear. She tilted to give him better access, even as her hand came up to slide into his hair and she raked her nails lightly against his scalp.

“Ready to call it a day?” he asked, punctuating the question with a light nip.

“Mmm. Almost.”

“What’s keeping you?”

She sighed and waved a hand toward the laptop and various invoices on her desk. “Just finalizing the details for the All Hallows Ball.”

The annual gala had been an instant success when she'd first proposed it five years earlier. The exclusive event catered to the hedonistic, dark desires Sate was known for.

He kissed his way down to her collarbone. “Making you a full partner was the second-best decision I ever made.”

“Second best? What was the first?”

“Marrying you.” He reached over her shoulder and swiped her work area clear. “Get up. Hands on the desk.”

Without hesitation, she eagerly obeyed with a glimmer in her eye, placing her hands on the desk and pushing her hips back. The sexy vixen looked back at him over her shoulder. “Like this?”

He cursed under his breath as his hands slipped under her dress and found her bare. Bare, smooth, and ready.

“Jesus, Kayla. Have you been like this all day?”

She laughed softly, ignoring his question. That laugh turned into a gasp, then a groan as he entered her in one smooth thrust…

Twenty minutes later, Kayla’s bones were returning to solid form as she melted against Spencer’s torso. Her husband had a way of stoking the always-smoldering fire within her to a five-alarm blaze within moments.

Not that she was complaining.

“Now,” he said, his voice husky and oh-so-smug, “are you going to tell me what’s been bothering you?”

The man read her emotions almost as well as her body. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s stupid.”

He nipped her skin, his talented fingers sliding gently over her sensitive flesh. “Tell me anyway.”

She exhaled. “It’s autumn.”

“And?”

“And… we live in paradise. Every day is sunny and hot. The trade winds keep the clouds at bay. The sand is white and perfect, the scents of salt and sea and coconut scented oil are always in the breeze.”

“Not seeing the problem.”

“I guess… with planning the gala, I started feeling a little… homesick.”

“Homesick? You miss Pine Ridge?” he said, his tone conveying disbelief. 

“Yes and no," she said. "Not so much Pine Ridge as the season. The way the mountains are a wash of brilliant reds, golds, and oranges. The smell of damp leaves and woodsmoke hanging in the air. Hot days and cool nights. Bonfires and pumpkin patches and caramel apples and football.” She shrugged. “I told you it was stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” he said, stroking her arm. “I feel it too sometimes.”

She lifted her gaze. “You do?”

“Sure. Especially around this time of year. It’s only natural, I think. We might not live there anymore, but it’s where we came from. It’ll always be part of who we are.”

“Not all great memories though,” she said, leaning back against his chest.

“No,” he agreed. “Not great, but perhaps necessary. We rarely learn from doing everything right.”

They sat in silence for a while, Kayla soaking in Spencer’s warmth. His unconditional acceptance. He didn’t care about her less than stellar past any more than she cared about his. They’d both done things they weren’t proud of, but he was right. Those mistakes had made them who they were. Brought them here, to this moment. They really were two of a kind.

“How did you get so wise?”

He laughed. “I made a lot of mistakes. Which reminds me, we should get going. We don’t want to keep Nigel waiting.”

“Nigel?” Nigel was Spencer’s personal driver.

“Yes. We’re flying out in a few hours.”

“Flying out where?”

His knowing smirk was one of the things she loved most about him. It meant he was going to surprise her with something wonderful.

“Oh, did I forget to mention? A prime piece of property recently became available in the Hudson Valley. I thought we could spend a week or two there, see what we think about acquiring it as a seasonal getaway. But don’t worry. We’ll be back in plenty of time for the masquerade ball.”

Feeling a renewed energy, Kayla shifted until she was straddling Spencer’s lap. “Really?”

“Really.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, words incapable of expressing what she felt for this man who understood her on a soul deep level. A man who knew what she needed even before she did.

“I guess that means you approve?” he murmured.

“I so approve. Have I ever told you that you’re the perfect man?”

“Hardly. But as long as I’m perfect for you, that’s all I care about.”

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November: Brian & Tori (Not Quite Broken)

An Attitude of Gratitude

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the therapy ring at Happy Trails, turning everything golden. Brian McCain stood at the fence, arms folded across his chest, watching his son lead a dappled mare in slow, measured circles. The young rider in the saddle—a girl no more than seven—sat straighter with each lap, her prosthetic leg fitted carefully into the stirrup, her face lit with pure joy.

Danny's voice carried across the ring, patient and encouraging. "That's it, Emma. Feel how she moves beneath you. Let your body flow with hers."

Tori's hand slipped into Brian's, her fingers threading through his with the easy comfort of two decades together. "Remember when we weren't sure he'd ever walk without pain again?"

Yeah, he remembered. Danny had overcome so many obstacles over his twenty some years, growing from a sweet, awkward boy into a caring, fine man. A son any father would be proud of. And Danny was their son, in all the ways that mattered.

"He's extraordinary," Brian said, his voice rough with emotion. There'd been a time when feelings like this would've sent him spiraling, when the weight of caring so deeply would've felt like drowning. Back in those caves, back in those dark months after his rescue, he'd been convinced he was too broken to love anyone, too damaged to deserve happiness.

Tori had proven him wrong about that, too.

"You had a lot to do with that, you know,” Tori said, bumping her shoulder against his. "The stubborn streak, anyway."

Brian huffed a laugh. “Pot.” He pointed to himself. “Kettle.” He pointed to her.

In the ring, Danny stopped the mare, adjusting Emma's grip on the reins while praising her progress. The scarring that covered half his face and neck caught the sunlight, a map of everything he'd survived. But when Danny smiled—really smiled, like he was doing now—all anyone could see was his enormous heart.

"Heard from the Hartleys,” Tori said after a moment. "They want to bring their son in twice a week.”

“That’s good news, isn’t it?”

“It is,” she agreed.

“But?”

"But even with the Sanctuary guys helping out, I’m not sure we can handle much more. We’re maxxed out.”

Brian thought about that for a moment. “So we expand. We've got the land. We could build more stables. Buy more horses.”

Tori laughed. “Just like that?”

“Why not? We can do anything we put our mind to. Besides, I know you,” he said. “You don’t have it in you to turn anyway away. The biggest challenge is going to be hiring the right people.”

They'd had this conversation before. Finding someone with the right combination of certification, experience, and temperament wasn't easy. Finding someone who understood trauma the way their clients needed—that was nearly impossible.

"I've been thinking about that," Tori said slowly, in that tone that meant she'd been mulling something over for weeks. "What if we brought on a doctor who specializes in therapeutic riding? Someone who could work alongside Danny, help develop treatment plans, maybe take some of the administrative burden off him."

Happy Trails had started as Tori's dream. It had grown beyond anything they'd imagined, but they'd always kept it a small operation, even with the Sanctuary partnership. That was one of the things that made it great.

"I guess that is the next logical step," Brian said. "Having a dedicated doc will allow us to accept more difficult cases. We'll need help with the horses, too. Especially if we want to take on rescues like we've been talking about."

“Agreed. Easier said than done, though.”

Brian laughed. “When have we ever done things the easy way?”

Tori wrapped her arms around Brian’s waist. “I don’t know. Being with you is pretty easy.”

Brian leaned down and kissed the top of his wife’s head, gratitude swelling in his chest. “How did I ever get so lucky?”

“Same way I did, I guess,” she said with one of those soft smiles only those closest to her got to see.

In the ring, Emma's session ended. Her parents rushed to the fence, faces alight with hope.  Danny lifted Emma from the saddle with practiced ease, settling her into her mother's arms before turning to lead the mare toward the barn. He caught sight of his parents and waved, that brilliant smile splitting his scarred face.

Brian waved back, his chest so full it ached.

There'd been a time when Brian couldn't imagine tomorrow, let alone a future. When every night found him on the razor’s edge between this world and the next. Now, he had everything he hadn’t dared wish for.

He hadn’t done it alone, however. His family—both the one he was born into and the one that had adopted him as one of their own—had played a huge role in his healing, as well as Tori’s and Danny’s. It seemed only fitting that he and Tori paid that forward with others who needed support, care, and understanding.

With love, anything was possible.

"Let's do it," Brian said, feeling the rightness of it. "Let's expand. Find the right people. Build something even bigger."

Tori pulled back to look at him, her eyes shining with hope.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Something tells me everything is going to work out.”

“Is that what you and Maggie were talking about over Thanksgiving?”

Brian’s eyes twinkled. “Maybe. She did say change was on the horizon."

"What kind of change?"

Brian shrugged. "You know she doesn't get that specific. Just that if we follow our hearts, everything else will fall into place."

"Good enough for me."

The sun dipped lower, painting Happy Trails in shades of amber and gold. In the distance, horses grazed peacefully in the pasture. The barn doors stood open, welcoming. And the therapy ring waited for tomorrow's riders, tomorrow's stories, tomorrow's healing.

Brian breathed it all in and felt grateful beyond measure for the life they'd built together.

They'd gotten their happily ending.

He couldn't think of anything better than helping others find theirs.

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