Author: L.G. Pace III
Date: 2015-02-07 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Romance; Contemporary Romance; Humor
Description: "When we were kids, my cousins planned for their weddings like they were coronations. Sleepovers revolved around notebooks stuffed with clippings from bridal magazines and elaborate plans scrawled in purple ink. Horse drawn carriages, twenty tiered cakes, groomsmen in tails, and scads of bridesmaids, none of whom were nearly as pretty as the bride. Me? I'd just yawn and wander off to the backyard and play fetch with their dog. I never cared about any of that crap, at least not until I met Joe." With her wedding rapidly approaching, Molly's days consist of herding Joe off to tux fittings and di
Publisher: L.Pace

* * * *

Heartwood

A Carved Hearts Novel

Copyright © 2015 by L.G. Pace III & Michelle Pace

Cover designer: Robin Harper. Wicked By Design.

Cover model: Ruby Franco

Formatting by JT Formatting

All rights reserved.

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products, bands, and/or restaurants referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Title Page

Chapter One - Dirty

Chapter Two - Heavy

Chapter Three - Heartwood

Chapter Four - A Line and a Pole

Chapter Five - Wranglers

Chapter Six - To Have and to Hold

Chapter Seven - Home

Chapter Eight - Remember

Chapter Nine - The First Forty-Eight

Chapter Ten - Captive

Chapter Eleven - Pain

Chapter Twelve - Screwed

Chapter Thirteen - Frayed

Epilogue - Hearth and Home

Acknowledgments

About the Authors

“IF YOU NEED anything, Mr. Jensen...anything at all... don’t hesitate to call.” The front desk clerk tossed her dark hair and gave me what I assumed was supposed to be a seductive smile. She brushed her thumb over my knuckles as she handed me the hotel room keys. I was too distracted to fake a polite smile, so I nodded absently and made my way to the elevator.

The Driskill was an impressive old hotel, and I’d always admired the place for its 1886 architecture. It appealed to the craftsman in me, and though I’d been to many events there, I’d never been a guest. Molly and I had talked about staying on our wedding night, but, it was pricey and hard to justify since it was less than a few miles from home. Circumstances made that fantasy impossible now, but it seemed like a shame not to make this minor dream of mine come true.

I unlocked the door, and was greeted by a classy, very Texan style suite. A monstrous king sized bed dominated the room. Crowned by a partial canopy, it gave the room a posh yet clandestine feel. The suite was a magnificent space. The Driskill was far from seedy, but the entire scenario felt pretty cloak and dagger.

I felt my lips twitch with a smirk.

It felt good to be bad.

I jumped in the shower and afterward, I took my time shaving. I figured a gaping face wound wouldn’t get me laid. Throwing on my favorite suit, I took a minute to check my appearance in the mirror. After I was sure that my tie was straight and that I looked presentable, I made my way back down to the lobby. As I passed the front desk, the eye popping reaction I got from the flirty clerk bolstered my confidence. With a cocky nod in her direction, I pulled out my valet ticket and a red-vested attendant scampered to bring my truck around.

I was blocks away from the restaurant when traffic came to a crawl. Anxiously tapping the steering wheel, I finally passed the scene of the accident which had tied up both lanes. It seemed some tourist had slammed their Winnebago into a Smart Car, and Austin’s rubberneckers needed an eyeful. The gridlock continued, and growing ever more frustrated, I pulled out my phone and texted my date.

Traffic. I’m a mile away.

She didn’t respond. I was about to call her, when my phone chimed.

I glanced down at the picture message. No accompanying words, but I didn’t need any. The top of her garter belt jutted out from her skirt. It was visibly pinned to black stockings. I licked my lips, ready to park and sprint the remaining blocks to the restaurant. Taking a deep breath, I soldiered on.

When I finally entered Bess Bistro, I scanned the place eagerly. It didn’t take me long to find her in the dimly lit restaurant. She sat at the bar facing away from me sipping a martini. I watched as she placed her glass carefully on the surface in front of her. Her upswept hair accentuated her long, lovely neck which begged to be tasted. Seeing those stockings in the flesh made my temperature rise, and the way her midnight blue dress hugged her heart-shaped ass had me salivating.

Some old dude with greying temples and a droopy porn mustache was giving her the full court press. He was turned sideways on his stool, leaning into her personal space and talking to her cleavage. She nodded politely in response to whatever nonsense he was spewing, as his lustful eyes continued to violate every inch of her exposed skin.

A couple of years back, I might have punched him right in the ‘stache, but this was the new and improved me. The guy that didn’t fly into jealous rages or break irritating people into itty bitty bits. However, when he reached out and stroked her dangling earring, ‘Old Joe’ reared his ugly head. I was tempted to rip him off of his stool and toss him out the front door by the seat of his Depends. Instead, I took a moment and another deep breath. I had kids to think about now. Everything I did (or didn’t do) set an example for them. True, they were far too little to know what I might do here, but their blabbermouth aunts would be more than happy to fill them in later in life. As I stood contemplating the pros and cons of my next action, a far more civilized strategy occurred to me. I felt a devilish grin bloom on my face and I sauntered to the bar.

I slid onto the empty barstool next to her. Reaching out, I picked up her drink and took a sip. “Is this martini dirty?”

“Well if it wasn’t before, it certainly is now.” Her stunning eyes took in my tailored suit, and the corners of her mouth curled coyly as she reached out and reclaimed her drink from me. Her full sleeve of tattoos somehow meshed perfectly with the silky dark material she wore. She was dazzling, and I was glad I’d decided to wear her favorite tie.

“What’s a woman like you doing sitting at a bar alone?” My greedy eyes devoured her plunging neckline and her glossy, full lips. She giggled quietly, and the way her fingertips trailed along the stem of her glass made me heady with anticipation. Mustache Rides shot me a dirty look and turned reluctantly back to his scotch.

“Waiting on my fiancé.” She looked up at me from under her sultry lashes.

“He made you wait?” I asked. She nodded, and the bartender who’d been hovering nearby approached. “Johnnie Blue. Make it a double.”

“He’s a busy man.” Molly sighed dramatically, lifting her speared olives to her lips. She tugged one off showily with her teeth, her eyes fixed on mine.

Oh...it was definitely on now.

“He’s a fool,” I shot back.

The bartender barely stifled a chuckle as he poured my whiskey. It was clear he thought I was trying to pick her up, and of course, I was. Though we owned a house and had children together, and it was my ring on that pretty finger of hers, these facts were all irrelevant.

Tonight Molly planned to make me work for it.

She glanced at the bartender, and then back at me. She was well aware we had an audience. Her amusement was thinly veiled, but she kept a straight face and stayed in character.

“How late is he?” I continued, my voice sounding wanton and thick.

“Very.” Her decisive response reeked of promiscuity and I could feel the bartender assessing us curiously.

“I can keep you company while you wait if you like.” I leaned my elbows onto the bar and looked her over casually. She turned toward me and crossed her long legs. She was purposely drawing my attention to one of her best features, and I allowed my eyes to drop. My gaze trailed from the black straps at her ankles all the way up to her risqué hemline that ended far above the knee.

“Buy me another drink and maybe I’ll let you buy me dinner.” With that, she downed the last swallow of her martini. With a wicked smile, I turned back to the bartender who shook his head in blatant admiration.

“Oh, she definitely needs another one of those.” I stated. Mustache Man muttered something and abandoned his drink on the bar. The bartender glanced at Molly, and the gentle curl of her lips made him blush so profusely that his bald head looked sunburnt.

I’d slipped the hostess fifty bucks, and she seated us in a secluded brick nook near the back of the restaurant. The moment we were alone we both burst into laughter. I’d purposely chosen to sit across from her. I was enjoying our game, and made a point not to lay a finger on her throughout dinner. Her response was to spend the entire meal making me regret it. She pulled out all the stops, finding new and innovative ways to draw my attention to her charms. We made every effort to avoid discussing our favorite subject, the kids. It was refreshing. I reveled in the chase, and I could tell she enjoyed being pursued.

A date night had been a good call. We were long overdue for some couple time. The opportunity to ask her out had presented itself when I’d come home from work a few days before and found her trying on a sexy new dress. It was a clingy, fancy thing, and she looked unbelievable in it. The sight of her stopped me dead in my tracks and I stared with admiration at her shapely tattooed back. I wanted to attack her on the spot, but the twins were bouncing nearby in the exersaucers.

Molly had been surveying her reflection critically, but her eyes softened when she spotted me in the mirror.

“Where’d you get the dress?” I asked.

She batted her lashes, looking a little bashful. “I treated myself. For getting back down to my pre-baby size.”

“You’ve never looked better.” I blurted, and then wondered if she’d take it in some insulting way. The smoldering smile she wore seemed to imply that she took it exactly the way I meant it. “I want to take you somewhere to show it off.”

“Cocktails.” She gushed, as excitement lit up her face. “I quit pumping a week ago, and I’m dying for a drink!”

The next day, I called my sister Tamryn and asked her to watch the twins. Tamz agreed without hesitating, saying she’d bring her daughters so they could savor the flavor of multiple nightly wake up calls. I told her I was surprising Molly with an overnight getaway, and asked her not to say anything.

After Molly politely declined dessert, I leaned closer and murmured. “That’s quite a dress.”

“Why, thank you.” A knowing look passed over her features, and she seemed to debate whether we were still playing games or not.

“What are you wearing underneath?” I loosened my tie, and the wicked look I got in response made me shake my head. “If you say nothing, I might have to take you right here and now.”

She tortured me with a throaty laugh, and the sensual way she nibbled her lip was my personal kryptonite. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“The only way you could disappoint me is if you refuse to come back to my room with me.” I replied.

She arched a perfectly sculpted brow. “Your room?”

“I have a hotel room a few blocks away.” I stared at her intently, waiting for an argument.

“Well why the hell didn’t you say so?” She grabbed her purse and slid out of the booth. “Pay the damn check and let’s blow this joint.”

I was struck speechless, having expected some protest. She headed off toward the lady’s room and I waved the waitress down before she could change her mind.

We left her car at Bess’s and barely said a word to each other all the way to The Driskill. I felt nearly as impatient as I had the first night we’d slept together. This would be the first time since the twins were born that we weren’t “racing the babies” and a salacious tension settled over us. The air in the cab of the truck felt heavy and thick. I glanced at her and saw that she was watching me intently, her baby blue eyes reeling me in. I had to wrestle my gaze away and fight to focus on the road.

By the time we got to the hotel, I could no longer resist touching her. My hand went to her lower back as we walked past the front desk. The clerk shot Molly a vicious glare, but Molly failed to notice. She seemed far too fixated on getting to the room.

As the elevator door closed, my hand slid across the smooth material of her dress down to her mouth-watering ass. Gripping it firmly, I pulled her against me.

“Oh, the things I want to do to you.” I growled, and brought my lips down aggressively on hers. When her tongue plundered my mouth, I was tempted to pull the emergency stop and throw caution to the wind.

We somehow managed to make it into the room fully clothed, but quickly remedied that situation once I’d kicked the door closed behind us. My jacket was off in a flash, and she fumbled with my belt as I struggled with my tie, unwilling to remove my lips from hers.

We took out our pent up frustration on the room, making quite the mess of the place. Our poor maid really earned her money the morning after. In the midst of our sexcapades, we’d knocked a picture off the wall and one of the towel racks came loose not long after. The bite mark she left on my shoulder stung like a bitch for days, and in my eagerness, I accidentally ripped her new dress beyond repair.

It was totally worth all the residual pain and the extra charges to the credit card. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, and Molly told me that I broke the record for the number of orgasms she’d had in one session.

“I’m so sleepy.” She mumbled as she came out of the steamy bathroom. Seeing her freshly showered and bundled in the plush terrycloth robe made me want to unwrap her like a present. “Ready to go?”

“In a bit. Come lie down with me,” I coaxed. She climbed under the covers and into my arms.

She sighed, and I felt the warmth of her breath and her eyelashes flutter against the flesh of my neck. “I love you, Joe.”

Lazy and content, I kissed her fragrant, damp hair. “I love you too, baby girl.”

Naturally, she drifted off, and listening to her peaceful, even breathing I knew I wouldn’t be far behind her. Living with two infants means you’re constantly sleep deprived, and sex had always made us drowsy. Relishing the feel of her warm, smooth curves against me, I fell into a peaceful sleep.

The following morning, the sun was high in the sky when her gasp blasted me awake.

“Oh my God! Joe, wake up!” Her panicked voice caused my heart to race, but I quickly fell back on the bed when I remembered where we were. She vaulted from the bed and fumbled to put on her black see-through panties. Her frantic eyes scoured the room. “Where the hell is my bra?”

“Calm down, baby girl.” I rolled to look at her, propping myself up on one elbow.

“I told Tamryn we’d be home by ten-thirty!” She struggled braless into what was left of her dress. “Can you please call her? I swear I set that damn alarm.”

“You did.” I replied, calmly. “I turned it off.”

She gaped at me, half pissed half disbelieving. Her eyes narrowed, and the look she wore was deadly. “What?”

“Molly.” I drew out her name in a cautionary way. I rushed on to explain that Tamryn had planned to spend the night.

“You could have asked.” She snapped, her tiny hands balling into fists.

“You would have said no.” I shot back, sitting up on the bed. My frustration got the better of me. “You always say no.”

“So what?” She scowled. “If you don’t like my choice, you’ll just trick me?”

I flinched, stunned by her accusation. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have been. I realized that whether rational or not, I’d just landed in “The Draven Zone”. It wasn’t my favorite place to be. Molly’s ex was an abusive, cowardly fuck. He’d played a lot of mind games with her in addition to repeatedly hurting her, and even thinking his name pissed me off. Though it wasn’t fair for her to associate my blissful prank with his behavior, I supposed she’d say the same about the overprotective moments she had to endure as a result of my past with Jessica.

After I put two and two together, I tried to apologize, but Molly was already trembling and angry tears rolled down her scorching cheeks. Even the fresh change of clothes I’d packed her didn’t seem to score me any brownie points.

As she came out of the bathroom, I reached for her. “Hey.”

She shrugged my hand off of her arm and hurriedly stuffed her ripped dress into her purse.

I felt my face grow warm, and I paused to subdue my frustration before I spoke again. “Molly, I made a mistake. There are many more where that one came from, I’m afraid. I wanted to give you a break, and I knew you wouldn’t take it willingly.”

“You could have just told me last night.” The bite in her words was unmistakable.

“You wouldn’t have stayed.” I sighed. “And you needed a good night’s sleep.”

She maintained her silence but nodded. A moment later, she walked out of the room. Grabbing my suitcase, I trailed after her to the elevator. I had hoped that the night away would prove to her that the twins would be fine without us. She’d been skittish about entrusting them to anyone for any length of time. I’d wanted to prove to her that we could take a honeymoon without it bringing about the apocalypse. In the end, all I’d accomplished was erasing any trace of fun we’d had the night before.

She remained mute during the ride back to Bess’s, and I wracked my brain for something I could say to fix our disconnected state.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I love you and I worry about you. You needed to recharge. I made a bad choice, but please know that my heart was in the right place.”

“I know,” she whispered. I didn’t like that she was staring out the window instead of at me. We came to a stop beside her Mini Cooper, and Molly reached for the door. She paused, as if she might say something, and then she hopped out of the truck. When we got home, she put on a decent act for Tamryn and the girls, but when they were gone, she was cool and polite for the remainder of the day.

Bacon.

I’m not a morning person. On any given day, I smash snooze no less than four times before dragging my ass out of bed. I’d always been a card carrying “don’t talk to me until my third cup of coffee” kind of guy. That all changed when my girl moved in. Living with an insomniac chef had countless benefits. Not only did she spoil me with her unparalleled sexual prowess, but there was nothing like the smell of her cooking nudging me out of my slumber.

I rolled over and wasn’t at all surprised to find I was alone in the king sized bed. Morning light streamed through the eyelet curtains. We’d argued about the lack of privacy they provided, but Molly insisted they had “the perfect look” for our 1920’s cottage. As usual, when it came to my girl’s desires, I’d caved. Seeing her triumphant smile was worth a thousand early wakeup calls from Mother Nature’s spotlight. Still, I gave Molly a ton of crap about being an exhibitionist, saying if she wanted to give the neighbors a show, we should at least charge for concessions.

I rolled away from the bright nuisance and nuzzled into Molly’s pillow. The familiar scent of her hair permeated the pillowcase, bringing back powerful memories of our makeup sex the night before. I smiled softly as I recalled the moment she rolled over and nestled up close to me. It was a familiar move from Molly, a white flag of surrender. I’d grown accustomed to this type of gesture from her, and understood her silent message.

‘I’m here. I overreacted. I’m still pissed but I love you.’

I’d lifted my arm and she nestled up to me. The firmness of her breasts against my side already had my heart beating faster, and when she lightly trailed her fingertips down my chest, it started to gallop in my chest. I exhaled deeply and stroked her hair, understanding that she was ready to connect with me. She nuzzled my neck in response, and I knew her fervent lips would claim mine soon. I wanted her as badly as she wanted me. Any discord between us hurt, and I had to be close to her to ease that particular ache. Though some days she left me scratching my head, most of the time I felt like I knew her like I knew myself.

I was already rock hard as I watched her silhouette move in the dark room. Then she was straddling me, and her mouth came down on mine. I moaned in response to her urgent, sweet kisses. We did our best to keep quiet, which only heightened my level of excitement. She moved slowly, taunting me with her leisurely pace. Soon, I was so spun up that I flipped her onto her back, caging her between my arms. She proved how well she knew me, revving up my needfulness with all of my favorite moves: trailing her nails lightly down the back of my neck, the naughty sounds she made, that thing she did with her tongue. I returned the favor, stifling her moans with my mouth when she came.

Recalling all the vivid details of the night before, I sat up. Morning wood made my sleeping pants way too snug. Molly was the motivation I needed to get my lazy ass out of bed. I was ready for round two.

As if on cue, I heard one of the babies let out an angry cry. Glancing at the clock, I saw it was already seven a.m. I felt my forehead wrinkle in surprise. The twins never let us sleep in this long, and I was concerned that something was wrong. My fears fell away when I heard Molly’s raspy voice reverberate from the baby monitor.

“Ahhh...come here, Eva. Did Logan wake you up again?” Her sweetness eased my troubled mind, and I felt all the tension drain from my body. “He kicked you? He’s such a bully.”

I stood and stretched. The days of the twins co-sleeping were coming to a swift end. They’d just turned seven months old, and they’d grown like weeds. In fact, the pediatrician claimed you’d never know they were premies. Eva, who had always been the smaller of the two, was in the fiftieth percentile for length and weight. I figured their impressive growth had everything to do with their recent shift to solid foods and their mother’s ability to make even baby food taste incredible.

Shuffling into the bathroom, I brushed the rotten taste of sleep from my teeth. I knew the minute I saw my gorgeous fiancée, I’d want to kiss that sassy mouth of hers. I also knew that she’d kick my ass if I still had morning breath when I did.

Looking in the mirror, I frowned at my disheveled appearance. I was long overdue for a haircut. Our wedding was just four short weeks away, and I needed to time my trip to the barber carefully. The old guy who cut my hair had a wicked sense of humor, but sometimes he got a little razor happy. Molly pouted when he buzzed it too short, and if mama ain’t happy...

Still, it had been far too long since I’d been in my barber’s chair and I was starting to look like a hippie. Thanks to Molly’s silly refusal to shop for a wedding dress until she was nearly at her pre pregnancy weight, our wedding had been pushed back to late October. We were finally in the home stretch, and I wanted to do my part to make ‘our day’ perfect. Looking good for my girl was a solid step in that direction. Glancing at the calendar on my phone, I saw that I was scheduled to pick up our wedding bands later in the week. I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone since I’d already be in the neighborhood.

Wandering out of our bedroom, I passed Eva’s room without a second glance. My baby girl hadn’t slept there, not even once. Her bedroom had functioned as a guest room for weeks after we brought the two of them home. Several of our family members had taken shifts helping with the twins in the early days while Molly was recovering from her C-section. Since the twins did so much better sleeping in the same bed, Eva’s pumpkin carriage crib remained untouched. From the sounds of her indignant caterwauling, I had a feeling that Her Royal Highness would be breaking it in soon.

I crept quietly down the hall, and as I neared Logan’s bedroom I heard my daughter murmur an angry yet unintelligible response to Molly’s cheerful banter. Molly’s reply came without a hint of condescension.

“And he peed on you, too?” Her sympathetic sigh made me grin. “Brothers. Can’t live with ‘em...”

There was more jabbering from Eva, and I came around the corner to see Molly rocking her in the glider. She nodded down at my daughter. “Well, get used to it, sweetie. It just gets worse as they get older.”

Considering Molly’s brothers were my oldest friends, I understood she was only partially kidding. For as long as I’d known them, the Hildebrandt twins lived to torment their little sister. Back when we were in high school, Molly endured pudding in her pillow case, prank phone calls, and countless times her bra ended up in the freezer. Most of the time, Little Molly handled their razzing with the stoicism of a Navy Seal. Once in a while the boys crossed some invisible line of hers, and Molly’s temper boiled over. When that happened, a majestic display of hostility ensued.

Now that we were all adults, Mason and Molly had established a pretty normal relationship. The oldest of the Hildebrandt sons, Mason hadn’t been happy when he first discovered we were dating. He’d nearly shattered my jaw and to be honest, I deserved it. I should have gone to him before he found out about us through the grapevine. In Mason’s defense, I’d been in a pretty bad place for a long time before Molly. He didn’t want me anywhere near his little sister with my self-destructive ways.

Now here we were, nearly two years later, with our own set of twins. Molly’s new role as a mother seemed to pacify Mason somehow, and our engagement seemed to ease any remaining fears. He’d surprised me one day, stopping by the house to shoot the shit out of nowhere. It was shortly after the twins were released from the NICU. He held both of them and I showed him my new truck. We laughed about how badass it would look if Mason dropped the frame to the ground and painted red flames along the sides.

“Not very practical.” I murmured, and Mason gave me a sly grin.

“So Mac’s got something cooked up for your bachelor party.”

“Oh no. No no no no no. Not again.” I held my hands in front of me as if to ward off the tidal wave of hard liquor assaulting the beach of my memories. The foggy recollection of my hellish hangover at my first wedding made me cringe.

Mason nodded, his expression seeming to imply his own recollection wasn’t pretty. “Molly already laid down the law. We have to do it the week before the wedding. She said if she smells a hint of booze on any of us we’ll all have black eyes in the wedding pictures.”

“That’s my girl.” I shrugged. “Tell me he isn’t taking us to the skanky strip joint we started at last time.”

“Hell no.” Mason pulled a face. “Robin would castrate me if I came home covered in glitter and reeking of FDS.”

I laughed, and he joined me. When we wound down, there was a long and awkward pause.

“Dude.” I shook my head and raised my beer bottle up to toast him. “When did we get old?”

“Speak for yourself, asshole.” His comment lacked bite and he clinked his glass against mine.

After some small talk and general beating around the bush, he got to his real reason for stopping by.

“It’s good to see you doing so well, man. My sister seems to be good for you. And you seem to be pretty good for her, too.”

We’d never actually come out and talked at length about the rift Molly had caused between us, so needless to say I was surprised at this turn in the conversation.

“She’s the one, Mason.” I looked him dead in the eye, needing him to understand the gravity of my statement.

His unwavering eye contact punctuated his reply. “She’d better be.”

He was doing his brotherly duty and I accepted it for what it was. Mason had been my best friend for years, and knew what kind of guy I was underneath the grief I’d been carrying around. Once his initial shock wore off, he’d had warmed to the idea of me officially joining his family. These days, Molly seemed relaxed around Mason. She even called him regularly for parenting advice when she couldn’t reach his wife, Robin.

Things between her and her brother, Mac, on the other hand, were as unpredictable as ever. Their drama could be especially annoying since Mac was now co-owner of Good Wood, my woodworking/custom furniture business. He still treated Molly like she was twelve years old, and she wasn’t exactly what you’d call respectful in return. None of this was a new development, but they seemed to get more caustic as the years passed.

When we were kids, Molly used to idolize Mac. She’d follow us around all over creation and laugh at everything that came out of his filthy mouth. Mac enjoyed having a minion, and he put Molly up to all sorts of things that got her into trouble. When the twins still lived at home with their parents, Molly and Mac had usually been the instigators of all sorts of shenanigans, always partners in crime. I often marveled in how alike they still were, both stubborn, and far too spontaneous for their own good. There’d been some bad blood between the two of them when their father passed, and they’d never quite bounced back from it. Nowadays, if Mac said the sky was blue, Molly would traipse outside to double-check.

All thoughts of Molly’s brothers vanished as I watched my beautiful girl run her fingers through Eva’s golden hair. The perfection of the twins never failed to stun me, and my heart soared at the sight of my girls together. Their collective beauty bowled me over, and I silently admired the way the sunlight played on Molly’s porcelain skin. As if she sensed my presence, her blue eyes slid sideways at me and lovingly locked onto mine.

“There’s daddy!” She leaned conspiratorially down to whisper to our daughter. Molly’s hair spilled over her shoulder in thick chocolate waves and I wanted to reach out and run my hand over it. As if she could read my thoughts, she graced me with a stunning smile which seemed to communicate volumes without a word.

“How are my girls this mornin’?” I drawled, crossing to them. The moment I spoke, Eva’s tiny green eyes darted to me and her face split in a toothless grin around her bottle. I like to think I’m a pretty tough guy, but Eva’s joyous expression instantly reduced me to a puddle of goo. With an arm worthy of the major league, she slung her bottle aside and it clattered against the train engine crib. Ricocheting off, it skittered toward my bare feet and I barely dodged it. Logan jumped at the sound and let out a startled cry. Molly rolled her eyes and dabbed at Eva’s chin with a spit cloth, but Eva struggled against her mother’s efforts and she reached out for me.

“Da!” She cried out. Logan stirred in the crib and lifted his head off the mattress tiredly.

“Oops.” I murmured with a sheepish glance at Molly. I quickly scooped Eva out of her arms.

“Serves him right.” Molly remarked, and she stood and hurried to the crib. “First, he peed through his diaper around two a.m. I had to change them both and the bed and he slept through the entire ordeal. Then, just a few minutes ago, he kicked Her Royal Highness hard enough to wake her up.”

For all her blustering, Molly’s eyes twinkled as she lifted our son out of the crib. He immediately reached out and grabbed a handful of her hair yanking on it with all of his might. She hissed and tried to pull away but he refused to release it. Logan’s pale blue eyes were identical to Molly’s, and so was his devilish grin. In the past month, he’d lost all of his dark hair. We’d taken to calling him Lex, after the famous bald villain in the Superman comics. We found this especially amusing, since Alexander was his middle name.

Eva cuddled into my chest and I kissed the silky blonde top of her head. “You should have woke me up. I could have helped.”

Logan’s hand snaked out in the direction of Molly’s locks again. She barked out a surprised laugh, pushing her hair over her shoulder and away from his reach. “I was already up makin’ you breakfast. I figured you could use the fuel after last night.”

She wore a naughty smile, and I winked at her. I had serious plans for that mouth, but I filed them away for later. She caught me watching her and a pretty blush spread across her cheeks and chest. Unable to suppress a cocky grin, I pecked her on the cheek. It was a poor substitute for what I wanted to do, but after all, there were children present.

“Why don’t you go on out and give Eva some cereal. I made omelets and there’s some lemon-blueberry bread cooling on the stove.” She suggested. My stomach growled in response to the breakfast menu, and I nodded. I scooped up Eva’s bottle and turned to leave the room. Glancing over my shoulder, I watched as Molly gently place Logan on the changing table, murmuring about how big of a boy he was.

The singsong cadence that she used with him caused a small twinge in my chest. Molly’s nurturing ways came as no surprise, but her limitless love for the twins still took my breath away. Sometimes, I’d come home from work and find her smiling goofily at them while they slept. She doted on them constantly, and watching her with them, it was hard to believe that she’d been so ambivalent when we’d first found out she was pregnant.

I hated when life’s little bullshit got in the way of me appreciating her, but it didn’t stop it from happening. I wanted nothing more than to spend every second with the three of them, but business and mundane tasks made that impossible. When I’d catch myself stressing on the way home, I’d take a deep breath and try to drop it all at the driveway and focus completely on her and the kids.

Molly made that easy to do most of the time. It helped that we truly enjoyed each other’s company, and not just in the bedroom. Her biting wit and lust for adventure made even small outings a blast. As well as I knew her, she could still surprise me on a regular basis. This was a gift, and I treasured the knowledge that I’d never be bored with Molly. Just when I was convinced that I couldn’t love her more, she did or said something that pulled the knot binding us together even tighter.

“Let’s go get you some of that God awful rice cereal you love so much.” I suggested to Eva with wide-eyed enthusiasm, and she giggled up at me. She stuck her entire hand in her mouth and I knew without even looking that my shirt was covered in slobber. She’d been cutting teeth, and when I traced the pad of my finger over her gums, I could feel both the bottom front teeth trying to come through. Logan already had one tooth peeking through, and it wouldn’t be long before they were both eating brisket like proper Austinites.

As I reached out for the box of cereal, I lifted the foil covering one of the plates. My mouth watered as the savory scent hit me. While mixing the wretched slop up for the twins, the omelet seduced me with its cheesy wiles. Finally, I popped open the microwave to warm it up and started laughing.

“Baby?” I called.

“What?” Molly hollered back.

“You left your lonely mug in the microwave again.” This I was used to. It was another Molly-osyncracy. She was such a busy-body that she’d get halfway through a cup of coffee or tea and wander off to do some project and forget all about it. Then she’d come back and top it off, tossing it into the microwave to warm it up. Then she’d be off to the next task on her list and I’d discover the ancient drink hours later, with rings forming on the inside.

“Oops.” She replied, as she and Logan joined us in the dining room. I handed her both bowls of the noxious cereal/formula combo that resembled something you’d find on the floor after a prison riot.

“Go on ahead and eat, hon.” She nodded to the microwave when it chimed. As I fed my face, Molly fed both Eva and Logan, who devoured the wretched crap as if it were turtle cheesecake. Logan fussed for more, which was par for the course. He always had twice the appetite Eva did.

My phone vibrated. Pulling it from my pocket, I glanced at the message. It was from Mac.

“Tell me they aren’t calling you in.” Molly looked irritated as wiped Logan’s mouth. She pulled him from his chair and shifted him from one hip to the other.

“No.” I replied, my mouth stuffed full with the amazing bread she’d made. I continued to devour it, texting back one handed. “Mac just had a question about a delivery of supplies.”

“That’s good, ‘cause we’re booked solid today. You’re getting measured for your tux at ten and then we’re tasting wedding cakes at one thirty.”

Eva belched loudly, and sliding my phone away, I picked up a burp cloth to wipe her messy cleft chin. She gave me a lopsided grin I’d seen in the mirror many times. I had a feeling I was going to need an arsenal to keep the boys away when she got to her teens.

I turned to Molly, who had her hand on her hip. She seemed to be waiting for an acknowledgement. “I don’t know why you can’t just make the cake. Your desserts are the best.”

“I’m not a pastry chef, Joe.” She responded, rocking Logan on her hip. “I want it to be pretty and taste good.”

I shrugged. She was being a fussy perfectionist, but when it came to our wedding, I couldn’t fault her. She deserved perfect and God knows we’d waited long enough that it may as well be right.

Still, she was fun to tease. “Why do you need me to taste cakes? You know a hell of a lot more about food than I do.”

“Because it’s our wedding.” Her churlish tone nearly made me laugh out loud. “Not my wedding.”

“You know what I like.” I leveled her with a lecherous gaze.

“Fine, you pervert.” She sounded completely Texan when she said it, drawing out the ‘I’ in the word fine. Logan let out the burp she’d been waiting for. She swiftly fastened him into the seat next to his sister. The moment she stepped back from his chair, I pulled her onto my lap. Her eyes still blazed, and she squirmed deliciously as if she had some hope of escaping my grasp.

“I’m just playin’, Molly.” She stopped struggling and shot me a reproachful glance. “Of course I’ll taste cakes with you. Hell, that’s the best part of planning a wedding.”

As soon as the words passed my lips, I wanted them back. My careless statement was an awkward reminder that we’d both done this wedding stuff once before. The results of both our previous unions had been disastrous, and we marinated in that truth for a long, uncomfortable moment.

“We’re gonna start the kids on squash today.” Molly announced, climbing off my lap and moving away from me in seamless transition. The careless way she switched gears made me more uncomfortable than if she’d blown up at me.

Molly vanished into the kitchen and set about pureeing organic squash. The twins had been trying different veggies for two weeks. Thus far, just like their mother they weren’t big fans of vegetables. To date, they only tolerated carrots. Molly was determined to find something healthy they’d get on board with. She returned with two small containers and spoons, sliding one set across the table to me.

“Remember when we used to try a new microbrew every week?” I asked, desperate to engage her in dialogue about us again. She huffed out a laugh in response.

“And then came home and made love in a different room...our own little beer and sex tour.” She responded with just the slightest hint of sentimental wistfulness.

I smiled, feeling nostalgic. “Austin Amber...in the walk-in closet. Pale Dog...”

“Doggy style on the roof.” She continued, for me, wryly. Logan made a sound that resembled a purr and she stuck out her tongue at him. “My, how times have changed.”

I felt my smile evaporate. “Do you miss it?”

“Miss what?” She barely glanced in my direction, as she scooped some of the yellow squash puree into the tiny spoon. “The craft beer or the spontaneous sex?”

“The freedom.” I replied, and found myself bracing for her response.

“Sometimes.” She shrugged without missing a beat. She turned and something on my face gave her pause. A tiny crease appeared between her wide, cool eyes. “What I really miss is having some place to go. The way people lined up to taste my creations. The way they reacted when they did.”

“You want to go back to work?” I was shocked, and there was no hiding it.

“Part of me is dyin’ to...but I can’t stand the thought of leaving them with a sitter. There is no way I would trade this time with them.” Her loving eyes were all over Logan’s face as she said it. “Especially since the trucks are doing so well.”

Molly’s food trucks were operating like well-oiled machines, largely due to her skilled staff. And thanks to her most trusted employees, Stacy and Sanchez, the New Orleans and Galveston staff had received the same meticulous training. Those locations were thriving, and Molly was turning enough of a profit from them that she would probably never have to cook another day in her life if she chose not to.

“Damn that Cosmo magazine. Made you think you could have it all, didn’t they?” I teased, watching her closely to gauge her response. She just rolled her eyes with an amused smile and gently kicked me.

“I do have it all...just in varying degrees. Wrapgasmic is running smoothly without me. When I drop by to do a random taste test, it’s just show and tell with the babies. David and Emmanuel’s franchises are making plenty of money.” She paused, and I saw her lips bow in a frown.

“But...” I inserted, reading her like a book.

She groaned. “But I miss it. I miss the creative outlet. I miss the adrenaline rush I used to get when we had a crowd. If I wasn’t so busy with wedding plans, I’m not sure what I’d do with myself.”

“Oh.” I managed, feeling like a piss poor fiancé for not knowing she’d been feeling that way.

Her eyes skated over me when she heard my less than eloquent response. “Don’t get me wrong, baby. I love being home with Eva and Logan, but sometimes I get really bored. I’m way too efficient at laundry and I have become far too invested in The Winchester brothers.”

“Who?” I asked, blinking at her blankly.

“Oh...it’s just this show...a freaky soap opera for people who like scary stories. I’ve been watching it for three hours a day every day of the week. I’m addicted. Next thing you know, I’ll be driving the twins around in a black Impala and sporting an anti-possession tattoo.”

“An anti-what?” I paused an inch from Eva’s mouth and she screeched her disapproval.

Molly waved a dismissive hand. “It’s not important. The reality is that going back to work wouldn’t be the same anyway, even if they could use me. The challenge just isn’t there anymore with Wrapgasmic. I’ve achieved my goal. They really don’t need me anymore, and I’m not willing to let a chef go just before the holidays, so that I can feel relevant again.”

I nodded thoughtfully, noting the unmistakable passion in her eyes when she spoke about her work.

“Sorry. I’m raving like a loon.” Her sheepish grin was endearing. “What brought that subject up anyway? Lost freedom? The wedding? Are you afraid you’ll marry me and I’ll make you give up dart league?”

“I think we should reconsider that honeymoon idea you keep shooting down.” I responded, and her smile dissipated instantly.

“Joe...” She started, shaking her head. She presented the spoon to our son whose mouth dropped open in anticipation. She fed him some squash which he promptly spit out with such exuberance that it spritzed Molly’s face. She blinked and scrunched up her nose, wiping her cheeks with a napkin.

I tossed down the spoon and container, and grabbing both sides of her chair, I pulled her toward me. She blinked up at me in astonishment as I took her squash splattered face in my hands.

“What?” I demanded, enjoying the way her heavily lidded eyes dropped to my lips and then trailed back up to meet mine. Her demure gesture was effortlessly seductive and spurred me onward. “Why can’t we take a week away?”

“A week!” She scowled and wrestled her luscious gaze from mine.

“I could take you to Tuscany. You said you’ve always wanted to eat your way through Italy.”

“Italy is way too far away.” She looked glum. “We can’t leave them for a whole week.”

“Six days, then. Come on, Baby Girl. You and me. Beer and the beach.” I saw the ghost of a smile haunting her bee stung lips. “They have topless beaches in Jamaica, or so I hear. How does that sound?”

“It sounds heavenly.” She exhaled loudly. I watched her eyes flit back and forth as if examining a complicated equation.

“But...”

“But there is no way I can be away from these two for that long. Not yet.”

“Yes, you can.” My voice was calm, coaxing. I hated to leave the kids just as much as she did, but I hated the thought of robbing her of a honeymoon for a second time. I wanted us to have a few days alone to celebrate each other...and I loathed the fact that I had to sell her on that notion.

The night before last had been our only night away from the twins since their birth and what a night that had been. Before that, Molly was willing to go to the movies or to dinner, but not both. Since the day she’d had to leave the hospital without them, she’d hovered over the two of them in a way that bordered on obsessive. When we were away from them for more than a couple of hours, she became jittery. Sometimes, she had to take something for anxiety before we even left the house. I was used to our roles being reversed, and I understood her fierce need to protect them. I’d been there myself not so long ago. I might have found the situation laughable, had the shift in her behavior not been so extreme.

Her separation anxiety was so disturbing that I spoke to my shrink, Dr. Greene about it. His sarcastic response was exactly the kind of thing I’d grown accustom to.

“Well...let’s see, Joe...she did have a rough delivery. Then she had to leave the hospital with them in the NICU. Either would have been traumatic, but add in the lack of sleep and trouble nursing...”

I nodded. “So it’s not something I should be worried about?”

He shrugged in response, brushing his floppy hair out of his face. “It’s understandable that you’re concerned. Honestly, her response to these events isn’t abnormal. Time and support is what she needs. Her priorities have changed and you’re both adapting from being a couple to a family. If you want some adult time with her, a gentle nudge might be more appropriate than forcing the issue.”

I’d ignored his advice, and it wasn’t a mistake I was in a hurry to make again.

Eva erupted in an angry shout, pulling me out of my reminiscence. Molly still stared at me, as if seriously contemplating my proposition of a tropical getaway. I decided to press on, in hopes that she’d see things my way for once.

“It’ll be good for us, babe. Eva and Lex will be fine.” I pulled her hand to my lips and tenderly kissed it. “We need some couple time. We deserve this.”

She searched my face for a long moment and though it was a struggle, I refused to yield.

“Five days.” She conceded, and a happy chuckle escaped me. When I leaned in to kiss her, she pressed two fingers to my lips, her expression serious. “And let’s go somewhere with direct flights to Austin, so we can come back in a hurry if we need to.”

“Wherever you like, little girl.” Our kisses were intermingled with my words. “The ‘where’ doesn’t matter to me one bit. It only matters that we go.”

THE CAKE SAMPLES were delicious, but I could actually feel my ass getting fatter the entire time we were sampling them. Joe and I immediately agreed that the lemon cream was our favorite. It was a light yellow cake with lemon curd layers and a perfect lemon buttercream icing. Joe cocked an eyebrow at the whimsical cake design I chose. He asked why I hadn’t picked the elegant fondant covered towers versus my small, three-tiered jaggedly frosted selection. I told him fondant was pretty, but it tasted gross and after all, cake was simply a delivery system for frosting anyway. Besides, I needed my buttercream!

Joe selected the Pennsylvania Dutch Chocolate (dark chocolate cake and fudge icing) for his groom’s cake. The actual design of his cake was top secret. Madeline, the head cake designer for Sweetish Hill Bakery, and I were the only ones who knew what it would look like. I giggled when I thought about how perfectly his carpenter-themed cake suited him. The first time Joe had asked me out was at Sweetish Hill, which was just down the block from his shop. When it was time to plan our wedding, we both agreed that including them was a no-brainer.

Days after the cake tasting, I continued to suffer from eater’s remorse. I’d been working my ass off-literally- to get fit for my gown. When I weighed in several days after our indulgence, I’d burst into hysterical tears. All of my squats and push-ups meant nothing; I’d gained two pounds. I cursed myself for wrecking my metabolism every time I’d pigged out during my pregnancy. I made a vow to myself to ramp up my workouts before my final fitting.

Just a few weeks before, I’d made a stab at tradition by dress shopping with the ladies in my family. It took less than an hour with Mom, Robin, and Granny to see I’d set myself up for failure. After what felt like a death march through three bridal stores, I was ready to shoot someone. Between Granny’s rude questions about whether I thought “wearing white would fool anyone” and Robin insisting I try on the Cinderella clear slippers, I was ready to elope again. A half a day of pulling on pounds of satin and chiffon had me near tears. I scared the poor sales girl by wadding up a particularly atrocious cathedral length gown and screaming into it.

“I need a break.” I explained, and she promptly brought me my very own bottle of champagne. Kicking back in my bra and slip, I didn’t bother with a glass. I pulled out my cell phone and called my best friend, Dan.

“Sweetie, never buy off the rack.” He drawled. “Not for something like this.”

“I don’t have time to have something made.” I sniffed, knowing my scramble for a gown was my own fault. I promised myself I wouldn’t be the shlumpy bride standing next to GQ Joe. I’d fantasized about being Mrs. Joe Jensen since I was in the eighth grade, and I didn’t plan to live that dream with breast milk leaking through my bodice. I’m no Kate Middleton, but this girl has some standards.

“I’ll be there tonight.” Dan snapped, his tone leaving no wiggle room for an argument. “And we’ll go see Peter in the morning.”

True to his word, Dan arrived with his three matching suitcases a few hours after our phone call. He gushed all over the twins, refusing to give Eva up until she fell asleep. On his way up from Galveston, he’d already spoken to Peter, his ‘friend of a friend’ at The Frock Shop. Peter’s boutique was incredibly upscale, and he’d been the one to provide the red gown I wore the first time I met Joe’s family. Dan explained that Peter would design my dress and his best seamstress would bump it to the top of her to-do list.

“Wow...you must have made quite an impression on him.” I cocked a suspicious eyebrow at Dan.

“Quite an impression on his memory foam mattress.” Dan drawled, and Joe snorted appreciatively. I rolled my eyes at the both of them.

Fueled on Starbucks, we left Joe at home with the twins as Dan dragged me out for round two the following morning. Fortunately, Peter surpassed all of my expectations. His very first sketch was my dream dress. A modified retro dress pattern adapted just for me. For the fabric, we chose champagne silk. Peter brought out actual antique lace he’d been saving for just the right occasion, and unable to maintain my dignity, I jumped to my feet and hugged him.

I’d been back to the shop for two fittings with his Asian seamstress, Mei. Though she shoved me around like I was a farm animal as she worked, when I left the shop, my face always hurt from smiling so much. My gown was going to be as perfect as my soon-to-be husband was.

All of Mei and Peter’s efforts would be in vain if I allowed myself to turn into a bloated train wreck in the ninth inning. So thirty minutes after Joe left for work, I set the DVR to record my show, and laced up my sneakers. I covered the twin’s faces as I spritzed them with sunscreen, packed the diaper bag, and headed out for a long and vigorous walk.

Just as I cleared the last step with the double stroller, I heard my next door neighbor’s front door swing open. I felt my heart plummet, and braced myself for the onslaught on backhanded insults I was about to be barraged with.

“Hi!” Penny’s nasal tone pierced through my chipper mood like an icepick through a mylar balloon. I plastered on a phony grin and turned to her.

“Mornin’.” I replied, quickly turning back to arranged the babies’ blankets. I could feel frown lines forming on my face, and hoped she’d take the hint that I wasn’t in the mood for a neighborly chat. Frankly, when it came to Penny Madsen, I was never in the mood.

First of all, she was flawless. Sure, she was at least ten years older than me, but she was a fucking size two and her constantly absent husband had the money to pay for quarterly maintenance to her fine features. She made her high school daughters look like frumpy trolls, and she had an annoying habit of being outside in a bathing suit every time Joe went out to mow the lawn or work on the vehicles. When it grew too cold to tan, she wore skin tight yoga gear and had a knack for downward dogging in his general direction. She’d wander over to the fence to be neighborly, giggling at everything he said. Not to sound like a psycho, but I could set my watch by her sudden appearance at the fence with a cool glass of freshly squeezed lemonade. Joe’d tip his hat to her and accept her offering. She’d smile that overly white grin of hers and toss those long princess locks with perky exuberance.

I loathed her.

My distaste for my neighbor wasn’t all about her obvious infatuation with my fiancé. That kind of situation was the norm. Joe was hot. He attracted women like a picnic attracted ants. My dislike came from Penny’s natural talent for making me feel inferior about everything regarding my babies. That made me want to run the other way.

Let’s face it. There is no more judged person than a new mother. It starts with the appearance of the baby bump. That undisguisable sign that you’ve been “blessed” with a child...aka that you’re a hussy that obviously “gave it up”. Perfect strangers feel entitled to put their hands on you, since you obviously are fair game. Then the horror stories about delivery spill out of their smiling lips. I was in labor for 48 hours...in a blizzard...uphill...both ways. If sleeping wasn’t a problem already, those well-meaning war stories were sure to keep you awake.

Next comes all the unsolicited parenting advice: everything from old wives tales for thrush, to cloth versus disposable diapers, to how important it is to breast feed over the bottle. I’d been surfing an endless wave of stress since before I’d officially joined the parent club.

Most people seemed good intentioned, but Penny seemed to be tallying my shortcomings as if she were building a court case against me. Every time she stopped by with brownies (every other day while I was dieting); I ended up feeling bad about how I looked, dressed, and talked. Then I felt bad for thinking evil thoughts about her for trying to help me. On top of all of that, I felt guilty about being a bad mother.

Some of the highlights of our last visit had been how I needed to make my own baby food and how I should start applying for preschools immediately. Penny declared it was never too early to make sure they get onto the waiting list for the best ones. Eva and Logan were only seven months old, for the love of Christ.

Her opinions went on and on and on. It got to the point where I drew the curtains and hid inside with the babies like a vampire seeking sanctuary from the dazzling Texas sun. Joe seemed completely immune to her grating voice as well as all of the pressure. It just seemed to roll off of him like the tide off of the sand. Me, I felt like I was drowning in all the ‘helpfulness’.

“Hey there, little darlins’!” Penny smiled down at my children. Both twins beamed back at her, and I felt betrayed. It was as if I was about to witness the abduction of Hansel and Gretel by the witch from the gingerbread house, but was powerless to intervene. “Where are y’all off to this mornin’?”

“Walking over to SoCo to check on one of the food trucks.” I murmured, hoping she’d take a hint and take a hike.

“Without hats on their little heads?” She cried, the gigantic smile never leaving her taught face. “They’ll get earaches, Molly! Let me run back inside and grab them for you.”

I had no intention of putting hats on the twins since it was 83 degrees outside. Their pediatrician had schooled me that when it came to the weather, I should dress them like I dressed myself. Since I was wearing cargo capris and a tank top, hats seemed a bit absurd. They had on sunscreen and were covered by an awning attached to the stroller. But I said nothing, and felt like a total coward about it. I usually spoke my mind, but I had to live next to this woman for God knows how many years, so I dug deep for the extra grace to keep my big mouth shut. Penny had raised two children to near adulthood. She wasn’t as clueless about this as I was and she probably deserved my respect in the parenting department.

Before I could object, she trotted up the stairs and pulled the spare key out from under our welcome mat. Stunned by her audacity and the fact that she knew about the key at all, I tried to mask the alarm I felt. I’d locked myself out once when I went out with the twins. I’d had to call Joe in the middle of the day to come and let us in. I’d never told anyone-not even Joe-that I’d stashed a spare under the mat. This just confirmed how closely my neighbor was watching us. I debated about texting Joe, but quickly realized he’d tease me about being paranoid like he had when I felt like someone was looking in our window a few nights ago. The last thing I needed was to add fuel to that fire.

Joe wasn’t entirely off base about me being paranoid, but as Granny always says, “just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they aren’t out to get you”. I had been struggling a bit since the babies were born. I loved them to pieces, but my insomnia was worse than ever and my doctor was convinced I had some postpartum depression. Joe agreed, but he always took the doctor’s opinion as gospel. I knew better. I didn’t feel sad. I felt directionless, like a plastic bag floating on the wind. My daily routine was mind numbing, and I found myself pacing the floor from lunch time until Joe got home. I wasn’t morose and crying every day, but my moods swung from euphoric baby bliss to feeling like my time was over and my sole purpose in life was the babies and their well-being.

Still, I was open to the possibility that my judgment was clouded. I hadn’t been nearly so anxious before the twins, and the last thing I needed was to be in denial. I was concerned enough that I’d gone to visit Dr. Greene a couple of days ago to get a second opinion.

“Molly...” He replied, dropping his pen onto his notebook after thirty minutes of listening to me explain why Dr. Myers was completely off base, “You might not have postpartum, but you do sound...off. Lack of sleep alone can do that to you. One baby is an upheaval to a household. Two? It’s got to be like getting hit by a freight train.”

“Preach.” I agreed, sipping from the bottle of water he’d offered me on the way in.

“Have you gone back to work?” He asked.

I think I surprised us both when I burst into tears. Once they started, I couldn’t stop them. I thanked the Lord, sweet Jesus, that I hadn’t worn any makeup, since I didn’t need the telltale raccoon eyes when I got home to Joe.

“I’m not working. I don’t have any plans to return. They just don’t need me.” I blubbered, and he jumped up and grabbed a box of tissues, which he slid across the desk at me. I managed to pull myself together a couple of minutes later, and he waited until that time to delicately respond.

“What I’m hearing you say is that you miss working.”

“No shit.” I scoffed, and his mouth twitched in amusement. “I’m a terrible mom! I am dying to go to work, even for a few hours a day... a few days a week. It’s pathetic. I need to get out. I need to cook up some new kick ass recipes. I need to have some damn adult conversation.”

He pulled off his glasses and sat back in his chair. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“But the babies...” I started.

“Will be just fine.” He interjected.

I considered this.

“Does Joe object?” Dr. Greene asked, picking up his pen.

“No.” I replied. “He says he doesn’t care as long as we have someone we trust to watch them.”

“And Joe doesn’t trust easily.” He smirked.

“Would you?” I shrugged. Thinking about Joe’s late wife and their dead baby made me morose.

“Well, it’s no wonder you need someone to talk to with Joe as your main social outlet.” He mumbled.

Greene’s penchant for sarcasm normally amused me, but intense anger surfaced in me so suddenly that it shocked us both.

“That’s a shitty thing to say, Will. Joe’s my best friend. He’d give you the shirt off his back if you needed it. I couldn’t have designed a better father for my children.” I stopped when I saw his stunned expression, and realized I was over reacting. Logan had kept me up late and I needed some damn coffee. I sucked in a deep breath and shifted gears. “You were joking...I’m so sorry. That was over the top. To answer your question, he loves that I’m home with the kids. He claims he has no opinion on when or if I go back to work, but who knows how he’ll act when I do. And you’re right, I do rely on him to be my entire social life. He’s so sweet about it, but I bombard him like a needy shut-in every day when he walks in the door. I can’t help it. I miss people. But when I leave the kids, even for a little while, I feel so anxious that it’s hard to have a good time. And when I do let loose, I feel so guilty.”

He exhaled audibly. “Molly. I want you to listen to me carefully. You’re going to be fine. I don’t feel that you need antidepressants, but that’s up to you. You might need a little something to help you sleep and I’d be glad to refill your script for situational anxiety, but honestly, how you feel is completely normal. It might be a good idea to get someone to watch the twins for a few hours a couple of days a week so that you can get back out there. You’ll be more fulfilled and the twins will be happier with a happy mother.”

Another sob escaped me and he thrust the tissue box in my direction.

Dr. Greene’s tone was emphatic. “It’s not a sign of weakness that you want to get out of the house and work. Everyone’s different. There are no rights or wrongs here.”

“You sound like Joe.” I sniffled.

“No. Joe sounds like me.” He volleyed the snark back into my court, and I smiled in spite of my tender nose and watery eyes.

Thinking back on my visit with Dr. Greene, I felt an element of calm seep into me. I inhaled and held my breath to focus. Maybe I had told Penny about the key. My memory was shit these days. I had to keep lists for everything from which twin I’d fed last to which truck I needed to sign payroll for. I hadn’t slept a full eight hours (except for that hot night at The Driskill) since I’d been discharged from the hospital. It was entirely possible that I told her in a fit of delirium. Maybe I’d told Joe and he had mentioned it to her. After all, they were extra chummy over the privacy fence which wasn’t quite tall enough for my taste.

I watched her disappear into our house as if she owned the place. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end and my mouth felt like it was stuffed full of cotton. Though my conscious mind screamed at me that I was being a dumb ass, something deep and primal told me to look alive. I glanced over my shoulder and half expected someone to be standing behind me wielding a machete. Running a shaky hand through my long bangs, I looked up and down our street and saw nothing but empty sidewalks and rows of parked cars. I rolled my shoulders in an attempt to relax them; there wasn’t a soul in sight.

Get it together, Molly.

Penny resurface from my house with two black beanies which had “Mom” embroidered on them in a tattoo-style heart. She brushed passed me as if I were a yard fixture and tugged them onto each of my babies’ heads.

“There!” She pronounced, as if she’d just planted the American flag on the Moon’s surface. “Y’all are ready to hit the town.”

“Great.” I gripped the handle of the stroller and forced a grin. “Well, gotta split.”

“Y’all should come over the weekend after next. My hubby will be in town. We could grill.” Penny’s husband worked in the oil business and was gone so much that I couldn’t remember his name.

I pretended to look disappointed. “You know, we’d love to...but it’s my niece’s birthday. Robin and Mason have this whole thing planned.”

She nodded, appearing unfazed. “Maybe next time.”

“Maybe.” I chirped.

“Tell Joe I said ‘hi’.” The twinkle in her eyes was unmistakable. I had the overwhelming urge to pull her hair and push her onto the ground like I was in the second grade. Surprised by my intense jealousy, I clamped my mouth shut and nodded. I let my feet carry me away as I stuffed my earbuds in one handed.

Women of all ages enjoyed looking at Joe. This had been true since the day I first laid eyes on him. Hell, I hadn’t even been in high school then, and I’d been one of those fawning idiots following him around.

After we became reacquainted as adults, I’d learned he had quite the rep for getting around. I’d never let his popularity with the female gender bother me much. Thanks to my ex-husband, I’d learned long ago that I had no control of what my guy chose to do with his penis when I wasn’t around.

Wanting to make the most of my cardio time, I picked up my pace as I strode purposefully in the direction of South Congress. My sudden territorial streak made me nervous. It was unlike me, and I wondered if it came from some residual insecurity from Drae’s affair. Joe would always have admirers, and I needed to deal with it like a woman, not some silly child. I was not going to become that girl.

I decided to chalk it up to lack of sleep. Stretching my arms above my head, I leaned slightly to both sides in an attempt to warm up. I paused at an intersection, waiting for a passing car. The sedan’s windows were darkly tinted, and it slowed so much that for a moment, I thought it was going to park. I was about to start forward when it sped up and zipped by, narrowly missing the stroller.

“Hey!” I shouted, scowling down the road at the retreating car.

Texas. This entire fucking state could use a remedial driving course.

Reaching into the baby bag, I pulled out a Xanax and swallowed it down with a large swig from my water bottle.

Shaking off both the Penny experience and the shitty driver, I turned up my IPod in an effort to distract myself with the upbeat playlist my friend, Jay, had made for me. Enough screwing around. I was going to use the jogging stroller for its intended purpose.

After all, no pain, no gain.

“I BOOKED OUR honeymoon.” I turned to Molly, and smiled at her cute pig tails. She fidgeted with her seatbelt and fumbled with the zipper on her sweatshirt. Her anxiety was contagious as she nervously ran her hands over the knees of her pants. They were black, and covered in tiny pink skulls. They fit her like a glove and I couldn’t help but lick my lips. Most women nearing age thirty couldn’t pull off pig tails or skulls. My girl not only owned the look, she bent it over and made it her bitch. Trying to ignore her obvious agitation, my thoughts wandered in a filthy direction, and I realized Molly was pointing at the wind shield.

“Green light, big boy.” She teased and as if to concur, the driver behind me laid on their horn. Molly glared in the side mirror and rolled her eyes. “So where are you taking me?”

“I thought you wanted it to be a surprise.” I replied, easily maneuvering the truck through the homicidal downtown traffic. I glanced in the rearview mirror at the twins. They were sleeping peacefully. I had the most precious cargo on board, but having lived here my entire life, I was used to being in defensive driver mode.

“I do.” She exhaled, and the sound reeked of wistful regret. “Is it a direct flight?”

“Yep.” I replied. “Just like you ordered.”

Her smile was like a crackling fire on a chilly night. “Just tell me how I need to pack. Sweaters...flip flops...dressy...casual?”

“I plan to keep you naked as much as possible.” I deadpanned, but when her bawdy laugh echoed through the cab, I erupted in a grin.

“In that case, I suppose I’ll just bring a carry-on.” She joked. Seconds later, we came to a stop in front of her father’s old restaurant, and her playful expression wilted. I watched as sorrow settled over her perfect features. A fading realty sign reading “price reduced” had been tagged with bold graffiti reading “Tear this bitch down”. The former site of Hildebrandt’s Barbecue served as a harsh reminder of the light that had been extinguished when her father passed.

Molly’s dad, Chet, had been a true force of nature. He was one of those people that was always the center of attention. He lit up a room when he entered it. That man smiled all the time and had never met a stranger in his life. He’d charmed the pants off everybody who walked through the doors of his place. Along with his talent in the kitchen, Chet had passed his likability to Molly. Her gift with people was so automatic that she seemed completely unaware of it.

“No need to dress for cold weather.” I held my poker face. “You might want to dress up a few times, and don’t forget your bikini.”

“I’ll never wear a bikini again in my life.” Molly pulled her eyes away from the neglected building, her hand automatically settling just below her naval. I knew all too well that her C-section scar lurked there, just beneath the fabric’s surface. It was a constant reminder of her seizures and the frantic delivery of our twins. I knew the thin pink line made her insecure, but every time I saw it, I remembered just how lucky I was to have the three of them. Oddly, the scar that bothered her so much gave me comfort.

“Then you’d better get shoppin’ for a couple new suits, Little Girl.”

“Joe, you’re gonna have to give me a little more than that to go off of.” Her red lips formed a pretty pout. “Seriously.”

I turned carefully into the half full parking lot across the street from the shelter. “I’ll send you the dress code on email.”

Molly huffed out a laugh. “You really know how to sweet talk a girl.”

I put the truck in park and fixed my eyes on hers. “No. I don’t.”

We both turned to take in the scene at the homeless shelter. Molly’s newest Wrapgasmic truck blocked about half the parking lot from our view. Her manager, Stacy, scurried around, scribbling the menu on the sandwich board. Stacy’s hulking Mexican husband, Sanchez, was in the process of raising the awning. Seeing them together always made me think of a Barbie doll next to an action figure of The Hulk. Nearby, a gigantic, impossible-to-miss banner announced our event to random passersby.

“Joe.” Molly soft voice immediately grabbed my attention.

“Yeah, baby?” I murmured.

“This was a really great idea.” She undid her seatbelt and leaned over the center console to kiss me.

“Well, congratulate Francis. He’s the ideas man behind it all. I just organized some shit.” I replied, though I was more than willing to accept the reward of her sweet lips. My sales manager, Francis, had become quite the activist since he’d turned his life around. Formerly homeless, Francis now thrived in his position at Good Wood, making my work life infinitely easier to balance with home. Now that Francis no longer struggled with the basic needs of survival, he kept busy, splitting his free time between volunteer work and repairing his relationship with his daughter, Kelly. He’d even managed to talk Molly into donating all of her trucks’ leftovers to the shelter every day.

“Francis, huh?” Molly cocked an eyebrow. The disbelief on her face was as obvious as the silver hoop in her right nostril.

“Yep. Why?” I replied, trailing my thumb over her plump lower lip ready to taste it again.

“It’s just that Mac seems to remember things differently,” she replied. I pulled back and looked away. I’d asked the guys to keep my involvement in the fundraiser on the down low. A build off was a great way to showcase local talent and expose our new apprentices to what they could achieve if they kept working hard. Auctioning the creations off afterward for Francis’s favorite charity just made sense.

I felt Molly’s tiny hand grab my jaw and she turned my face back to hers. “You’re so kind, Joe.”

“Only to you.” I shot back. My tone was light, but her penetrating eyes trapped mine.

“Why are you so afraid to show the world that big heart of yours?” She asked.

I considered my response, but it didn’t take long for me to puzzle things out. As was often the case, the root cause of my discomfort came from my unusual childhood. “When I was growing up, dad’s job kept us all focused on appearances. That’s one aspect of my family I never missed after they kicked me out.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but I cut her off.

“If I decide to do something for someone, I don’t need a banquet thrown in my honor. I’m not my dad.”

My last words came out harsher than I expected, and Molly blanched, shrinking back from me a couple of inches. Gutted by the wary way her eyes narrowed, I immediately went across the console after her and gently took her into my arms.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you. I’m an asshole.” I whispered, brushing her temple with my lips. “My family is still a pretty touchy subject, baby girl.”

I felt her nod against me. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.” I sighed. Startled, she frowned as she searched my face. “I need to sort that shit out and move on.”

“Hey.” Molly sat up, straighter and her bold expression took me by surprise. “Let’s table this conversation for later. I want to focus on why we’re doing this event in the first place. This was a great idea, Joe. I’m proud of you, whether you like it or not. Your cleverness is about to raise a crap-ton of money for Francis’s project. They’ll feed and shelter a lot of people, thanks to you.”

We sat lost in each other’s eyes for a long moment, and I blinked uncomfortably under her scrutiny. Her unwavering belief in me was humbling, considering I’d been such a waste of space for years. Still, I wanted to be the man she believed I was. I pressed my forehead to hers as if to draw strength from her mental image of me. She closed her eyes and I watched as her features relaxed. The weight of my love for her crushed me, and I was very tempted to drive her directly to the courthouse, wedding deposits be damned. I gently brushed her hair off her cheek. “That’s my girl. Always with the silver lining to my black cloud.”

A horn blasted next to us and we both jumped in our seats. I looked over my shoulder and saw Mac grinning wickedly. He sat behind the steering wheel of his truck, mostly blocked from view by his girlfriend, Kelly, who waved from the passenger seat. I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the twins were still asleep. I lowered my window.

“Aren’t you two a little old to be making out in parking lots?” Mac snickered at his own joke, leaning forward so he could see us past his tiny lady-friend.

“You’re only as old as you feel.” I quipped.

“Then I must be ready for the retirement home.” Kelly winced, opening her door. She wore a walking boot on her left leg. She tried to climb awkwardly out of the vehicle, but Mac raced around the truck and lifted her out like she was a child.

“Kelly!” Molly gasped. Mac carefully placed Kelly on the ground and pulled a pair of crutches out of the back seat. He handed them to her. “What the hell?”

“It’s my fault.” Mac grumbled, but Kelly shook her head with a delicate smile.

“Stop saying that. It’s not true.” Kelly’s soft voice matched her gentle demeanor perfectly. She’d always struck me as someone who could play a princess at Disney World. She had all the right qualities: sweet, lovely, and patient with kids. The last bit was pretty important, since she was a teacher at a local elementary school.

“Yeah, it is. We were hiking Mount Bonnell. We were just about to the top when I took off running...you should have seen her face. Little Miss Alpha can’t stand to get second place ever. So she tore off after me like a bat out of hell and passed me like I was standing still.”

“Yeah. Then I stepped in a big hole and sprained my ankle.” Kelly grimaced.

“Ouch!” Molly exclaimed, her eyes the size of saucers.

“She’s lucky she didn’t fall off the side of the cliff.” Mac added.

“How long do you have to wear that thing?” I asked.

“Two weeks. It’s a really bad sprain. When the doctor told me, I bawled my eyes out. I’ve been training so hard for the half marathon and now there’s no way I can do it. Mac had to carry me all the way back down to the car. I’m surprised he isn’t in a back brace.”

Mac huffed with a small head shake. “You weigh ninety pounds soaking wet.”

Wrapping his arm around Kelly, Mac pulled her to him so that she leaned on him for support. He kissed the top of her head, and her dark eyes shone with admiration as she stared up at him. Molly and I exchanged a quick, knowing glance. We’d both agreed that they made a sickeningly cute couple. Molly smirked, and I knew she was remembering our recent conversation about them. Molly had said that she felt bad that she initially written Kelly off as ‘too nice’ for Mac. Kelly was nice, but Molly told me that she now believed Kelly was just the strong, silent type that Mac needed in his life.

I couldn’t have agreed more. Mac had always been a rebel without a clue, but since Kelly’s arrival he’d made all kinds of positive changes. Hell, the amount of money he saved on cigarettes alone would easily pay Malcolm Junior’s college tuition when the time to do so came.

Mac had finally developed a social life that didn’t include a keg and tapper as a permanent fixture. I wasn’t one to throw stones from my glass whorehouse, but between golf league, dart league, softball league, bowling, and watching every game on ESPN, I’d assumed Mac would remain a bachelor forever. Based on the daytime talk show-worthy break up he’d had with Malcolm Junior’s mom, I couldn’t really blame him.

I’d warned him not to marry a bartender. Not that I had anything against bartending-it’s a noble profession. It’s just that Mac didn’t need any help getting drunk and frankly, his ex had ‘nasty skank’ written all over her.

“Princess Patrón” (as Molly lovingly referred to her ex sister-in-law) had made quite a first impression on me. First of all, she was the loudest human being I’d ever met. The night Mac first introduced us, Mason and I met them at some dive bar down on Dirty Sixth. Jess and I had just gotten engaged the weekend before, and I was in a fairly good mood. About twenty minutes after Mac introduced his “lady”, she cornered me outside the restrooms.

“You’re hot.” She slurred, groping my crotch. Then she tried to kiss me. Luckily, she was a clumsy drunk and I easily escaped her. Figuring she was just really smashed, I let it go without a word to Mac.

As time went on, it seemed that type of behavior wasn’t an isolated incident. Mac and “Patrón” fought constantly, and though we all told him he was insane, he took her down to New Orleans for Mardi Gras and they came back hitched. Marriage didn’t do anything to tame their brawling. When she got knocked up a month after their wedding, Mac got serious in a hurry. He started working a lot so he could buy them a house, and she kept working at the bar. He caught her drinking more than once while she was carrying M.J., and it infuriated him. He threatened to take the baby from her when it was born. She responded by saying things like “who says it’s yours” or “maybe I should just get rid of it” and he’d back down. Though Mac had never said so, I think the idea that the baby was someone else’s haunted him long before she verbalized it.

About three months after their son was born, she failed to come home from work. It was long after closing time, but there’d been a recent crime spree, so Mac packed up the baby and went to the bar to check on her. I think the last thing he expected was to catch her blowing some guy on the pool table. That was the night he showed up on my doorstep with the baby. The defeated look on his face made my stomach sink, but he’s a tough son of a bitch and never shed a tear in front of me.

The two of them ended up staying for a couple of weeks before Mac made an offer on a house. It was the one he’d been saving for, and he promptly moved himself and the baby in. That’s when the real war began.

She came slithering around, crying about how bad she screwed up, how much she loved him, how she wanted them to be a family, blah blah blah. Mac wasn’t stupid. He told her to hit the road. Then she went apeshit and hired a shady lawyer. She had the balls to ask the court for full custody, alimony, and child support. All Mac wanted was his son and her pickled ass out of his life for good.

The courts allowed them shared custody, though they’d been back in front of the judge a couple of times since. Their battles had died down a lot recently, since she was dating someone new and Mac had been giving her more money. Though Mac bounced back quickly after Patrón, he hadn’t dated steadily with anyone since. I was sure he’d die alone until the day Kelly strolled into the shop asking for her dad. Mac took one look at her and was a goner.

Physically, she was exactly the kind of girl he always went for: dark hair, deep tan, big brown eyes. The way she smiled back at him, I figured he’d nail her and then Francis would find out and shoot him. But it turned out that Kelly was far from the barfly party-girl type Mac was used to chasing after. She dressed and talked like a lady, had an education and a respectable job, was actually close to his age, and could do more push-ups than I could. Kelly was a totally different ballgame, and Mac had skipped spring training in favor of spring break.

After some trial and serious errors on Mac’s part, they had officially managed to become a couple. Kelly must have had something special, ‘cause Mac looked so damn chipper these days that it was ridiculous. Mason and I made fun of him constantly, calling him whipped and basically throwing all of the bullshit comments we’d endured from him back in his face. He took it all with a smile. Whatever it was he had with Kelly, it obviously worked.

Currently, they ogled each other as if Molly and I weren’t even standing there. When I saw Mac move in to kiss Kelly, I whipped my head away and busied myself grabbing the stroller out of the back of the truck.

“Hello! Your sister is present!” Molly cried out in alarm. Kelly pulled away from Mac and nearly fell off her crutches. Mac shot Molly a dirty look and she cleared her throat. “That sucks about your race, Kell.”

“I know. I tried to talk the doctor into clearing me early...” Kelly started, but Mac interrupted.

“Over my dead body.” Mac emphasized each word as if chastising a naughty child. “The doctor was pretty clear. No cheating. You have to take the time to heal. You could screw it up permanently and then you can kiss running goodbye forever.”

“Then you’d finally be able to keep up with me.” Kelly’s breathy laugh made Mac’s eyes pop. Her brow furrowed at his response. “Wait...that sounded dirty. Not like that.”

“I don’t want you to lose that rockin’s ass.” Mac chuckled. The scarred look on Molly’s face made me huff out a laugh.

“Just...stop talking.” Molly covered her face and then scrambled away to retrieve Eva from her car seat.

By the time we got across the street with two babies, a double stroller, and the walking wounded, Sanchez had already fired up the grill in Molly’s food truck. Mac and Kelly wandered away, which I assume had something to do with the fact that Mac and Stacy used to be friends with benefits.

Good for Mac. He was learning a little something about women after all.

“Hey there, Little Mama! Hey, Joe!” Sanchez yelled and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Sanchez was always such a low key dude and this was the first time I’d heard him raise his voice. Then I realized that Carly was using a food processor next to him and between that noise and the grill he probably couldn’t hear himself think.

“There’s my angels!” Stacy cooed, as she rounded the truck. She immediately hunkered down in front of the stroller and started tickling both the twins. Their slobbery smiles only seemed to encourage her and her already high pitched voice launched into the stratosphere.

“Big fan of babies, are ya?” I asked.

‘What’s not to love?” She asked, unbuckling Logan and cuddling him against her. Logan seemed completely contented nestled against her ample chest. I had a feeling he’d be a boob man just like me.

“When are you two gonna have one of your own?” I shot back. Sanchez turned a deep shade of crimson and he kept his attention glued to the grill. Molly’s eyes widened. Stacy’s gaze never left Logan, and she planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“Right now I’m focused on keeping the business in the black.” She said decisively, her lips closing after the words in a tight line. Normally, I would have shrugged off the entire exchange, but Molly and Sanchez’s reactions piqued my curiosity.

“Business?” I asked, and Molly elbowed me. I shot her a surprised glance. Her eyes broadcasted a warning that left me completely confused. I opened my mouth and she cleared her throat and fixed me with a look that begged me to keep still.

“There he is! Hey, Joe!” I recognized Graham’s voice and turned to see him waving me over to the judge’s platform.

I turned back to Molly, who held out her arms to Stacy. Stacy handed Logan to her and immediately went after Eva. “I gotta go.”

“We’re cool. Don’t keep ‘em waiting,” she insisted. Logan reached for her hair, but I brushed it out of the line of fire. He screeched, and Molly smirked impishly. “No pulling Mama’s hair, you little demon-child!”

I hurried in Graham’s direction and I’d just reached his side when a camera flash went off in my face.

“What the—” I blinked, trying to clear my vision.

“It’s a good thing you’re so photogenic. That was not your good side.” I recognized the voice of Molly’s sardonic friend Lisa before my retinas recuperated from her assault.

“Isn’t it bright enough out here without the damn flash?” I frowned.

“It’s a little overcast.” Lisa sniffed, pushing her glasses up with her middle finger.” I need you to pose up here with the judges.”

“Why?” I already didn’t like the direction this was headed. “The contest hasn’t even started yet. There’s nothing to judge.”

“Do not question my artistic brilliance.” Lisa replied, as if I was wasting her time with trivial conversation. When I continued to stare at her expectantly, she sighed. “Molly asked me to take pictures for the Wrapgasmic and Good Wood websites. It’s good P.R.”

My shoulders sagged. Obviously my publicity discussion with Molly had happened a little too late. I turned to my mentor and good friend, Graham for an assist. He arched an eyebrow at me like I’d lost my mind. I sighed. “I’d rather not be photographed.”

“Good luck with that.” Lisa snorted. “Here comes Beverly Campbell with the photographer from the Chronicle.”

“Shit.” I mumbled, glancing over my shoulder. Francis strode in my direction with Mrs. Campbell, the head honcho of the homeless shelter. She was a fixture in Austin, a widow of old money, with the reputation of a radical philanthropist. At least my father always thought so. He’d been rolling his eyes about her for as long as I could remember. She and I had met once before at some big black tie affair when I was in my teens. I remember thinking she was a total MILF. The years had treated her well, and she now looked like a retirement-age Ann Margaret.

She was dressed in functional, practical clothes, but carried herself regally. Francis was arm and arm with her, escorting her over to us. They seemed a bit familiar for casual acquaintances, and I gave him a suspicious glance, as I caught his eye. His sunny grin and accompanying wink made me bite the inside of my lip to keep my laughter at bay.

“Beverly, I’d like you to meet Joe Jensen.” Francis began.

“Joe Jensen.” Her sharp eyes narrowed as she studied my features. “Not James Jensen’s son?”

“One and the same. But don’t hold it against me.” I smiled, my face feeling a bit tight.

Mrs. Campbell laughed heartily and nodded.

“Well, okay then. I have to say I concur with Francis, Mr. Jensen. This event is shaping up to be quite the fundraiser.” She stuck out her hand. I heard Lisa’s camera shutter whirl.

“Please...call me Joe.” I offered my hand in return, and she shook it. Her grip was surprisingly firm. This woman had more confidence than most of the guys here.

“Joe it is. What a brilliant idea you’ve had here, Joe. This turnout is impressive and inviting Habitat for Humanity? That was an inspired touch.”

I felt the color rising in my cheeks. “That was my fiancée’s idea.”

“They said they’ve already signed up fifty volunteers from all this skilled labor that you have lured here. Genius move. Habitat is a wonderful organization. It’s like I always say, give a soul a bed and a meal and they’ll have one night of comfort. Give them four walls of their own...” She shook her head and I could see a sheen of tears gleaming in her eyes. Immediately uncomfortable, I deflected her attention at the expense of one of my favorite people in the world.

“Have you met Graham? He owns the sponsoring construction company.” I thrust my friend in front of me like a sacrificial lamb.

“I most certainly have. This isn’t our first rodeo, is it Graham?” When she smiled, she looked ten years younger. Graham graced her with his dimpled smile and used his “awe shucks” charm in response to her sprinkling of compliments. I looked at Graham for an explanation, wondering if the two of them had a past.

“Our church does a lot of food drives. I’ve been down to the shelter many times.” Graham explained, seeming a tad embarrassed. It was probable that I was reading too much into their exchange. Graham was a humble man, and seemed about as uncomfortable with the ceremonial pats on the back as I was.

“I’ve been wanting to thank you in person for your generous contribution.” With a gentle touch on his shoulder, Mrs. Campbell turned to face Lisa and the goofy looking photographer from the Chronicle. “Everyone give the cameras a happy smile.”

Mrs. Campbell had one of those commanding “mom” voices that had us complying without hesitation. Lisa and her freckle faced cohort wasted no time rapid firing their cameras at us. With a few quick directions from Lisa, we found ourselves in the middle of a full blown photo shoot. I was ready to lose my mind when I saw Molly wander up with my employee, Nick tagging along. Nick had a tendency to follow Molly around like a puppy dog, so it was no surprise that he’d sniffed her out. He was carrying Logan, who was in the process of trying to remove Nick’s eyebrow piercing. I used it as an excuse to break away and take Logan right out of Nick’s arms.

“Hey. The guys all took a vote. They want you to be in the build.” Nick stated, touching his eyebrow and lip rings as if to confirm that they were still in place.

I looked at him as if he’d suffered a head injury. “What guys? I can’t compete. As a sponsor, it’d be a conflict of interest.”

“All the interns from Good Wood. And not to compete. It’d be pure exhibition.” Nick replied. “Come on, dude. It’ll be awesome for the interns to see what you can do. And whatever you make will be auctioned off for the cause.”

I shook my head. “Nah. I just planned to watch and hang out with the family today.”

“Come on, Joe.” Nick gave me a lopsided grin. “You got to show them how it’s done.”

Thanks to Nick, we had a full blown internship program at the shop. It was part of our expansion, and half the reason Mac was now a partner. Most of the “people managing” fell to Nick, since Mac was more of a ring leader than a leader. Nick had the natural aptitude to rally the troops. If he thought I should do the build off for morale, I probably should. I looked at Molly. “Can you believe this?”

“Do it. I wanna see what you can do, too.” She replied, her eyes dancing with excitement.

I sighed heavily and looked at the sky. “You’re killing me, Molls.”

Ninety minutes later I was drilling off the last large section of wood so that I could get at the piece with the more detailed instruments. Molly approached and leaned casually on my table.

“Hey there.” She taunted me, holding up a piece of hardware. “Wanna screw?”

“Nice.” I snorted, and then pointed the drill at her and revved it.

She giggled. “We’re super mature. Our kids are in so much trouble.”

I heard the whirling on Lisa’s shutter and turned to glare at her.

“What? You two are pretty.” She insisted and wandered away.

“Lisa needs to get away from me with that camera or I may test out my power saw on her.” I growled.

“Don’t piss off Lisa.” Molly said seriously. “She has a vindictive streak. I told you about her college roommate, didn’t I?”

I fumbled with my attachment as I removed it. “No.”

“The poor girl flirted with Lisa’s boyfriend. Lisa waited until she left to do laundry for the weekend and cut the crotch out of her two favorite pairs of pants.”

“What?” A laugh escaped me as I got a mental picture of Lisa with a giant pair of hedge trimmers.

“And then she took one of the roommate’s four favorite pairs of shoes and donated them to Goodwill. Not the pair. One of each of them. Like four singles.”

I gaped at her. “You can’t be serious.”

“That’s not all.” Molly rushed on, clearly enjoying the tale. “Her roommate was a romance fanatic. She collected books by some smut author. I guess she read and re-read them like a fiend. Lisa spent the rest of the weekend removing random pages of every one of the books. And she didn’t just rip them out. She surgically removed them with an X-ACTO knife so her roommate wouldn’t know the pages were gone until she went to re-read the book.”

I simply stood blinking at her. “And this is who you hung out with in high school?”

“Well who else was I gonna hang with, Joe? You and the twins?” She held the water bottle near her glossy lips in a decidedly suggestive manner. “I was jailbait, remember?”

I thought about all the naughty things she’d done to me the night before and blushed. “But she’s still your friend.”

Molly shrugged, her sweet face full of mischief. “Sometimes it’s good to have a diabolical mind on your team.”

I saw her nibble her lip and knew something was up.

“So what are you doing over here, little girl? Gonna pass me a file in a cake or something?” I asked, selecting the right attachment for the electric power carver without even looking at them.

“I came to bring you a cold drink.” She slid a large bottle of water in my direction. “And to let you know that your folks are here.”

I nodded, as tension spread from my jaw down to my shoulders. Things with mom were in a decent place, though I occasionally caught her staring at Molly’s tattoos as if she had some unfortunate birthmark. Still, mom had been incredibly supportive of our upcoming wedding, and her help with the twins had been immeasurable.

Dad and I were still trying to find our way back from the valley of darkness we’d been camping out in since my high school graduation. Every time we made a step forward, it seemed like we slid back twice as far. Though he’d been at mom’s side while she insisted on paying for our reception, he’d proposed we relocate the party downtown to The Austin Club. Then he had tried to persuade us to add about fifty people to our guest list all of which were either prominent Austinites from affluent families or politically significant. He seemed to have forgotten that he was retired from the game, and that neither my sister, Tamryn, nor I were playing any longer.

Molly was reluctant to have a big wedding in the first place but I’d persuaded her when I suggested one of the event centers at The Salt Lick. It was our place, the site of our first date and many more since. She’d burst into tears and told me I was the most romantic man in the world. We had decided to have both the wedding and the party at their Pecan Grove location, since it was less stuffy than the mansion across the vineyards. The thought of eating their barbecue and drinking Shiner in her wedding gown always made her smile.

When dad started in about moving the party, the look Molly’d shot me told me that I needed to handle the situation or she would. As amusing as it would be to watch Molly verbally dismantle my father, it was my place to do it and I snuffed his plan out immediately. This party was a celebration of our love, not for some bullshit social agenda of dad’s. When I told them we’d have to graciously decline their offer if it came with any strings, mom shot him a deadly glare and he’d backpedaled in a hurry. To soften the blow, Molly made the small concession of giving them twenty invitations to do with as they pleased.

My dad and I had been through the ringer in the past few years, and though the birth of the twins had us on speaking terms, I wouldn’t say we were really on friendly terms. Though dad had attempted an apology, we hadn’t managed to recover from our epic fall out. He’d kicked me out two weeks before high school graduation. I’d told him I wasn’t going to Rice University as expected. I wanted to apprentice as a carpenter and had no intention of attending law school. I’d wanted to tell him for months, and finally mustered the courage. In response, he told me I was wasting my potential and would never have a dime to my name. Then he told me to get off of his property.

It still burned me to think about that night. He sent me packing with what I could fit into a backpack and two gym bags. I’m sure he thought it would knock some sense into me and I’d come crawling back like a good little WASP. But I was a chip off the old block, and I was twice as stubborn as he had ever been.

I slept in my car for a couple of nights before Mason noticed me in the donut shop parking lot across the street from the school. I had no choice but to level with him about what had happened.

“Dude. That’s messed up. You’re coming home with me tonight,” he’d insisted.

“N...no...” I stammered. I’d never been so grateful and embarrassed in my life.

“Don’t fucking argue with me, Joe,” he’d demanded. The truth is, I didn’t want to argue. As tough as I thought I was, I’d never been on my own and it had been utterly terrifying.

Molly’s family welcomed me with open arms when I’d been a lost, scared eighteen year old. Neither Betty nor Chet pressed me for details, they just welcomed me in and told Molly to set an extra plate at the table.

I wasn’t there long. The twins were ready to move out. Mac and Mason already had jobs lined up on a construction crew. Unlike me, the Hildebrandt twins had known with certainty what they wanted to do for a living since junior high. Mac said he’d talk to their boss about getting me on the crew. The two of them even had a place lined up to rent, after jonesing for a party pad our entire senior year. A friend of their dads was willing to rent them a house. It was a ramshackled shanty, but he gave them a great deal as long as they fixed some things up for him and didn’t cause trouble. It just so happened they had an extra room for me.

“Joe. You okay, baby? Too much sun?” Molly’s voice pulled me out of my memories and back to the situation at hand. I realized she was watching me pensively. She knew when it came to my mom and dad I could get a little unpredictable. I took a moment and tried to manage my own expectations. While I understood it was customary for parents to show support like turning up for the event I’d organized, I figured mom was just here to hold the babies, and my father was here to get his face in the paper. I had no issue with their motivations, but I was in the middle of something and didn’t have time for the awkward meet and greet.

“I’ll talk to them after. What was the deal with Stacy and Sanchez?” I asked, ready to hop off the topic of my odd relationship with my parents.

“Oh.” Molly swallowed a drink of her water hurriedly. “Well...Sanchez was offered the head chef position in New Orleans.”

I made a sweep at the wood with the instrument. “Again?”

She frowned. “Yes. Only this time Stacy’s pushing him to take it.”

“What?” I stopped and sat my tool on the table, taking off my gloves and my protective eye gear. Her tone of voice told me there was a possibility that it could happen.

“They’re ready for the next step, Joe. Sanch doesn’t want to move away, but Stacy’s ready to start a family and Emmanuel’s offering him a huge salary. I made them a counter offer, but I just think Sanchez needs something more. He’s in the same place I am with Wrapgasmic. He’s mastered it and it runs itself. He’s ready for a change. Stacy too.” Molly’s conflicted eyes drifted to the side as if she were imagining life without her original team. “They’ve been fighting about it for about a month.”

“Babe, why didn’t you tell me?” I took a step closer to her, bumping my legs against the table that stood between us.

“No sense in us both worrying about it.” She pursed her lips and drew them to the side, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Actually, yes there is.” I reached across the table and brushed her hair out of her eyes. “I’m about to be your husband. I’m supposed to ease your burdens. I can’t do that if you won’t share them with me.”

“I know.” She leaned forward and brushed her lips over mine. “I just figured we’d cross that bridge when we got to it.”

“Hey! Break it up, Short shit!” Mac barked from the judges’ platform. “Quit distracting Joe. He’s only got two and a half hours left and he’s trying to represent.”

Just as they announced ten minutes left on the clock, I put my tool down and removed my gloves. I walked around the table critically, looking for any imbalance or imperfections. I’d carved a full sized end table out of a solid hunk of wood. It wasn’t ornate, more of a classic style, but I didn’t notice any flaws. I brushed my hand across the table top, feeling for any jagged edges. I sanded the top one more time to be sure. It was a crying shame that I didn’t have time to stain it.

After the alarm sounded, I walked hand in hand with Molly to inspect everyone’s creations. Some were simple, well executed carvings like mine. Some were elaborate large builds. Considering each builder had four hours to create whatever they chose, it was a pretty varied collection of creations, but everything was impressive. Some of the coolest stuff there was made by guys apprenticing with Mac and I at Good Wood, and I made a mental note to use a couple of them for more involved projects in the future. If they did that level of craftsmanship regularly, we’d be foolish not to hire them on full-time after their apprenticeships ended.

Graham and the other judges announced the winner, and I wasn’t surprised when I heard it was one of ours, Dylan. He won a complete tool set, a five hundred dollar gift card, and bragging rights. He was a really polite kid who rarely said two words to anyone. Mac and I exchanged a glance, and I knew we were thinking the same thing. The kid would have a job offer from us by the end of the day.

“Let’s get some lunch.” Molly pulled me toward her food truck. Most of the crowd was already eating, so we waltzed right up to the truck and Molly climbed aboard. My parents hovered nearby holding the twins in the shade. Mom was stuffing her face with Molly’s “Cheeseburgler Wrap” and Dad had nearly polished off one of her oversized lemon truffles, which Molly had lovingly named The Sour Puss.

“Molly, everything’s delicious!” My mother said, as she bounced Eva on her knee.

“Why, thank you.” Molly called out the window with a grin, and she proceeded to whip something together for us. Minutes later she was pushing a Sunday Brunch Wrap and a Mint Brownie in front of me.

“You’ve been working hard today. I assumed meat and potatoes were in order.”

“Whoa.” I snatched it up greedily and dug in.

“I’m so amazed by your gift, son.” My mother shifted Eva to her opposite shoulder so she could kiss my cheek.

“Thanks, mom.” I mumbled, trying to chew the oversized bite I’d taken. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I was up close and personal with Molly’s cooking.

“Joe’s an artisan.” Molly agreed, taking a seat next to me. “Every time he makes something new I’m more amazed by him.”

“You’re both incredibly gifted. Really.” My father said as he polished off the last of Molly’s cooking. “And we’re thrilled to have you officially joining our family, Molly.”

Molly smiled her sweet, genuine smile, but his subtext wasn’t lost on me. I heard his message loud and clear.

It’s about time my son did right by you, since he knocked you up and all.

I’d suddenly lost my appetite, and I tossed my wrap back in the basket.

“We’re very proud of you, Joseph. I’m thrilled to see you serving your community on this scale, but why the homeless shelter?” Dad asked, his eyes settling on mine. Obviously, he felt I could have found a more deserving cause.

I bit back my knee-jerk answer.

Because I can relate. I know what it’s like to be tossed out on the street.

I took a deep breath and cleared my throat, trying to think of something a bit less volatile than digging up the bones of the past.

“Why not?” I replied. “I’m in construction and I know a lot of tradesmen. No one needs builders and contractors more than the homeless do.”

I felt Molly’s hand on me knee. She gave it a gentle squeeze, and I felt my heart rate slowed in response.

“You have your father’s work ethic, Joe. His retirement didn’t last long once we came back to Austin.” Mom drawled, wiping Eva’s mouth with a spit cloth.

“I hadn’t heard you went back to work. Where are you working?” Molly asked, and I have to admit my curiosity got the better of me. I turned and saw a cryptic mask bloom on his face.

“Consulting. With a private contractor.” He wasn’t exactly curt, but Molly was intuitive, and took the hint that the conversation was over.

“Now, Molly. Tell me all about your gown. The suspense is killing me.” My mother gushed, then put a hand to her mouth. “Oh, should we step away so Joe won’t hear?”

Molly gave me an amused side glance and waved a dismissive hand. “No need. It’s all Greek to Joe.”

Mom’s non sequitur was anything but. This was a perfect example of my mother’s special gift. She intuitively swooped in and changed the subject when things were on the verge of escalating. And her tried and true strategy worked like a charm. Molly began to talk about antique lace and the entire conversation digressed into a discussion about centerpieces and song selections. Some folks may have viewed Felicia Jensen as just a politician’s wife, but mom was always twice the diplomat my father was.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SWEET Pea!” I called over the chaos in the busy arcade. We’d arrived five minutes before and between the black lights and the loud music I was already working my way toward a headache. My niece, the birthday girl, snatched her present out of Joe’s hands and ran off toward the ball pit.

“That’s my angel.” My sister-in-law, Robin, drawled apologetically. “This place desperately needs a Margarita machine.”

As if to prove her point, a tweenage boy slammed into me, and I stumbled and nearly dropped Logan.

“Hey!” Joe snapped, steadying me.

“Watch it.” I crowed.

When the boy turned, his face was practically in my cleavage.

“Sorry” He mumbled directly at my boobs.

“I weep for the future.” I murmured and Joe huffed out a laugh.

Robin rolled her eyes. “Me too. Now give me one of those twins. I want to huff what’s left of those baby pheromones before they age into gremlins like mine.”

“Where’s Mason?” Joe asked, undoing the stroller straps and passing Eva to Robin.

“Off playing mini golf or some shit.” Robin replied, clinging to Eva as if she had a visible halo.

Joe stuffed his hands in his pockets and shifted from foot to foot, looking around at all the ski ball and shooter games. Evidently, the thought of my brothers off reclaiming their youth somewhere nearby was more than he could bear.

“Well go on. Go find ‘em.” I said, and his face split in a wide smile. His white teeth glowed in the dark and I couldn’t help but laugh hysterically.

“He’s a giant kid.” I snorted as Joe trotted off into the crowd.

“Speaking of giants, look how big you are!” Robin gasped as she held Eva out in front of her. “I could just eat you alive.”

“Tell Aunt Robin to stop being creepy.” I said to Logan, who grinned at me as if we were sharing a private joke. “Tell me we have a quiet booth somewhere.”

“Keep dreaming, Molly-girl.” She replied. “But we do have several tables reserved. Come on over. Granny’s holding down the fort.”

“Oh, the twins are here!” Granny cried, waving her flabby arms in the air. “Give me that boy this instant!”

“Hello to you, too, Granny Hildebrandt.” I handed her Logan who kicked his legs enthusiastically.

“Oh, Molly. Don’t be so dramatic.” Mom said, standing up to give me a hug. “I got all the mason jars for the centerpieces.”

“You did?” I asked, picking up a slice of pizza I was sure to regret eating.

“Yep. We found quite a deal.” She replied.

“Thanks, mom.” Between Joe’s parents insisting on paying for the reception and mom and granny tracking down all the decor, they’d saved us more than enough money to afford whatever honeymoon Joe had booked for us.

“Where’s that handsome man of yours?” Granny asked, propping Logan on the table in front of her.

“Off playing with the boys.” I replied.

“So are we still taking all the kids overnight next Saturday?” Granny asked. Mom turned to see my response to Granny’s inquiry.

“Absolutely!” Robin interrupted, lighting up like a storefront on Christmas Eve. “We have the mother of all bachelorette parties to attend!”

“Yep.” I blew out a breath and nodded. With Dan and Robin conspiring, it was hard telling what I was in for.

“That was a good call you made, telling the boys their party had to be two weeks before the wedding.” Granny startled me with her uncommon compliment. “If anyone loses a tooth, they have time to get it replaced before the pictures.”

I turned to Robin and just blinked at her.

“Can’t fault that logic.” Robin decreed, and my nieces started begging her to take them on bumper cars.

“Go on, we’ve got the pumpkins.” Mom said to me, and Robin and I took the girls off to wait in line for a turn on the cars. While we waited, we got front row seats to Joe, Mac, and Mason attempting some sort of obstacle course with my nephews. Mac did a pretty good job, as did my youngest nephew. Mason was a complete disaster and what Malcolm Junior lacked in athletic prowess he made up for in showmanship.

It was Joe’s turn next, and the nieces, Robin, and I began to chant his name. He flexed his arms showily and we all snickered. Joe skated easily through the agility portion and his bulging arms were fun to watch as he used the rings to propel himself forward. But when he got to the climbing, his bow-leggedness seemed to work against him like an Achilles heel. Still, the whole American Gladiator bit was quite a turn on, and I wanted to see him do it again.

“Try again, baby! You can do it!” I called up to him.

He smirked and shook his head. “We’re going to get in line for laser tag. Come find me when you’re done!”

We eventually rode on the bumper cars, which took a quarter of the time it took us to get through the line. My nieces’ cars collided and the younger of the two bit her tongue. She screamed and cried for the rest of the ride, and by the time the cars came to a stop, Robin was ready to punch the ride operator in the face.

This is the kind of shit I have to look forward to?

While Robin was complaining to management, I took the opportunity to go find Joe. I wandered into the laser tag waiting area and saw that their session was already under way.

“I want to play.” I told the attendant.

“No can do. Once it’s started I can’t let another player in.” The gangly college boy replied, blushing cherry red.

“Ah, come on now.” I sweet-talked him. I raised my eyebrows at him and leaned on the counter enough to give him a cleavage shot. “You look like a rule breaker to me.”

He smiled at me like he’d never kissed a girl in his life and looked around as if to be sure no one was watching. “I suppose I can make an exception. Here. Here’s your breast plate and your gun.”

“Those won’t be necessary. I’m just looking for my man.” I replied, as he unlocked the door for me.

I wandered into the large, dark room and began to fumble my way through the maze. Two little boys rushed past me, shot at me twice, and then ran onward. I tried to follow them, and after a minute, I realized I was turned around in a circle.

“Well, that was pointless.” I snickered to myself. I decided to keep my right hand on the wall and start over again. The thumping bass of the music was as loud as a night club. I encountered several more kids along the way and I could hear Mac’s laughter somewhere far away. I pressed on in that general direction, when I felt a big hand grip my wrist and pull me backwards into a dark alcove.

It was pitch black and I struggled to adjust my eyes in what I could only assume was an employee exit. He had me pinned me against the wall, his body pressing against mine from behind.

“Been waiting for me, big boy?” The semi-public nature of the situation aroused me, and recalling how sexy he looked on the obstacle course, I sighed. I felt his hands travel down my thighs and lift my skirt all the way up to my hips. The wall was carpeted, and it scratched my cheek as I felt his hot breath on the back my neck.

“Are you trying to frisk me?” I joked. He eased his weight off me slightly. His fingers trailed along the elastic of my panties and snapped it against my ass cheek. My breath hitched.

“Joe.” I gasped, and a nervous giggle escaped me. “There are kids crawling all over the place.”

I felt the pressure of his body leave mine and that frustrated me. He had me too hot and bothered to let him just walk away scot-free. Running a finger across his chest, I slunk away playfully.

“If you want me, come and get me.” I challenged him, and hurriedly crept further away from him through the dark, weaving around several corners before finding the black lit maze again. I looked over my shoulder to see if he was behind me and saw nothing but blackness. I turned and stepped forward, smacking into what felt like a brick wall.

“Hey there, beautiful.” Joe drawled, and I turned and stared directly into his bold neon chest plate.

I franticly looked behind me again as reality crashed into me like an avalanche.

Whoever that had been, it hadn’t been Joe.

Everyone sang an off-key rendition of Happy Birthday, but I just mouthed the words. I still felt like I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs. I ran a trembling hand through my damp bangs. Joe offered me a bowl of cake and ice-cream, but I shook my head. I was too humiliated to have an appetite. I’d been holding the same cup of Hawaiian punch in my hand for long enough for it to go warm, but had yet to take a drink. My stomach churned, and I was sure I’d throw up sooner or later.

“You alright?” He asked, pinning me with his sultry green gaze.

“Yeah. Just embarrassed.” I admitted.

A crease appeared between his stunning eyes. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, babe. Some fucking pervert basically assaulted you.”

I thought about how some random guy had practically had his hand in my panties and I buried my face in my palm and let out a mortified groan.

“Well, I wasn’t exactly fighting him off.” I muttered, and he continued to study me. I heaved a weary sigh, and didn’t need a mirror to know I was blushing profusely. “I thought it was you.”

“I should talk to the manager. Get him to pull the security tapes.” Joe’s growl reflected his poorly concealed desire to violently defend my honor.

“No.” I blurted, more heat rushing to my cheeks. Though I’d immediately told Joe about the incident, I wanted nothing to do with watching the encounter on camera. Joe was already scanning the crowd like a lion looking for his next meal. The last thing I needed was for him to go into full on overprotective mode. We had plenty going on without him having a setback, or worse getting arrested for beating up some creep, just before the wedding. And for all I knew, the stranger might have thought I was someone else too. Feeling humiliated, I covered my eyes with my hand. “Let’s just go watch the little peanut open presents.”

Joe frowned and I pleaded with my eyes. After a minute he sighed, nodded and sat down beside me. Enfolding me with his arms he pulled me into his chest.

“Are you sure, baby?” He mumbled into my hair. “Just say the word and we can go.”

“I’m sure. No need to cause drama. It’s no big deal.” I leaned my head on Joe’s shoulder.

“If you say so.” Joe’s acrid tone was impossible to ignore. As if to soften the sting of his words, he turned and kissed my forehead. His familiar scent and his stubble were a prickly reminder of the stranger with his hands up my skirt, and how I should have known he wasn’t Joe.

I pulled myself to standing on very shaky limbs. “Let’s get back to the party.”

We didn’t share what had happened with anyone. I was far too embarrassed, and neither of us saw a point in spoiling the fun. We tried our best to shrug off the incident, but Joe was glued to me for the rest of our time at the facility. I didn’t mind. It was comforting, and if anything I was clingy in return.

When we got home, I headed for the nursery and for the first time in a long time, I rocked both the babies together. They’d been cranky all the way home, probably due to being overstimulated and exhausted. As they drifted off, my heart nearly burst with the overwhelming love I felt for them.

“They asleep?” Joe whispered, and I looked up from them to see him leaning against the door frame.

I nodded, and he came and took Eva from me, vanishing down the hall toward her room.

“Shhh...” Logan stirred as I stood and carried him to his crib. I gently placed him on his back and rubbed his belly in a circular motion. He settled back down immediately, and I stood watching him sleep. Joe’s arms came around me, and I startled and bumped my head back into his jaw.

“Ow.” He murmured, rubbing his chin. “Not my smoothest move...”

“Sorry.” I frowned, reaching out for his face. “I’m just jumpy.” I peppered him with kisses.

He took my face in his hands, his eyes awash with unasked questions. He maintained his usual stoicism, but a storm was definitely brewing behind Joe’s deep green eyes.

“You look like you have something you want to say.” My hushed tone helped cover the fact that I had a lump growing in my throat.

He blew out a breath. “He wasn’t wearing the gear to play laser tag?”

“Nope. If he was, I would have been able to see it wasn’t you.”

“That seems...very strange.” His frown deepened, and he seemed to contemplate this detail. “Do you think he worked there?”

“I don’t know what to think.” I couldn’t take the look of trepidation on his face. “Joe, I’m sorry. I would have clawed his eyes out if I’d known he wasn’t you.”

He pulled me against his chest and when he spoke, the reverberations of his deep voice rumbled against my cheek. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about, baby. Let’s get you to bed.”

“We’re going, baby girl.” Joe called, as he and Mac appeared in the kitchen door. Mac was carrying lifejackets and fishing poles. Joe had a tackle box under one arm. In his snug Cowboys t-shirt and worn jeans, he looked good enough to eat.

“Don’t forget the sunscreen.” I said, looking up from the centerpieces Dan and I were working on for the reception. “If y’all are fixin’ to be out on Lake Travis all afternoon, you’re gonna look like a lobster. I don’t want you peeling at the wedding.”

“Where is it?” He asked, and I pointed to the microwave. He sauntered over and snatched the sunscreen up, tossing it to Mac. Then he popped open the microwave and laughed.

“Molly.” He snorted.

“What?” I asked, looking up from the tabletop full of mason jars.

Joe pulled my coffee mug out of the microwave and I rolled my eyes.

“Shit.” I said.

“You still have that old cup I bought you in San Francisco?” Dan smiled, pulling the twine tight around the blue jar in front of him.

“Of course I do. It’s my favorite.” I replied.

“This coffee is stone cold.” Joe remarked, pulling his pinky out of the liquid. “Now, if I heat this back up, will you remember it’s in here?”

“No promises.” I admitted, and I tilted my head back for him to kiss me.

“See ya, darlin’.”Joe smiled.

“Aren’t you gonna set some ground rules for him? Give us some ultimatums? We are going to his stag party.” Mac scoffed.

I narrowed my eyes and looked at the ceiling as if for inspiration. “Don’t get arrested and don’t bring me home crabs.”

Mac’s eyes widened, but Joe and Dan just laughed.

“No drinking tequila, little girl.” Joe pointed at me when he said it.

“Ahhhh...” Dan whined and tossed a string of twine at Joe. “Why can’t she drink tequila?”

“Ever heard that song ‘Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off?’ I’m pretty sure it was written about Molly.” Joe replied, and his eyes swept me and his lips twitched as if remembering the last time we’d had a few too many margaritas.

“Again, no promises.” I retorted, but a smile hovered on my lips.

Mac heaved an exaggerated groan. “Don’t have too much fun. We’re gonna be too drunk to come bail y’all out of jail. And don’t let Kelly re-injure her leg.”

“I hadn’t thought about that. Bar hopping on crutches is probably a really bad idea.” I frowned.

“And the party bus isn’t exactly handicapped accessible.” Dan clicked his tongue and looked at me for a solution to this new dilemma.

“Nah, it’s all good. She’s just got the walking boot now. The doc says she can take it off in a couple of days.” Mac replied, a lopsided grin appearing on his bearded face. “It’s all good. She’ll be able to do ‘The Macarena’ at your wedding.”

“If they play that fucking song at my wedding, so help me God...” I sassed, and Mac cackled.

“Oh, I’m so requesting it now. Right after ‘The Chicken Dance’ and ‘The Electric Slide’.” He held his stomach as if the laughter was working muscles he hadn’t used in years.

“Apparently we’ve been transported back to the 1990s,” Dan quipped, his dry Louisiana drawl as thick as honey.

Joe’s phone chimed, and he pulled it out of his pocket. “It’s Mason. They’re waiting for us at the marina.”

“Be careful.” I called, as they headed out the door.

Since Granny and mom came to get the twins bright and early, Dan and I finished the centerpiece prepping for the reception. We stood and admired our handiwork. Half the jars would have crème colored candles floating in them, the other half were ready for nosegays of fresh flowers when the time came. I showed him all the old pictures of our parents’ weddings that Robin and I had placed in wood and silver frames for the guest book table, and he gushed about what a charming idea it was. For such a non-conventional man, Dan sure had a sentimental streak.

We spent the rest of the day watching bad reality TV, eating junk, and catching up on gossip. He told me that business was good at Madeline’s, and that his half-brother, David, was very pleased with how his Wrapgamic franchise was performing. The place had certainly been swamped when Joe and I had taken the twins down for the official grand opening. It seemed there was room for another kitchy restaurant in Galveston after all. As silly as it was to have people ask me to autograph t-shirts with my picture on them, I smiled every time I looked at the balance in Eva and Logan’s college fund.

“I’m still jealous of your view.” I said, handing him a glass of sweet tea.

“Y’all come down anytime. We’ll take the babies to the beach now that they’re older.”

“I think we’ll wait a little longer for that.” I laughed, imagining Logan eating fistfuls of sand.

He shrugged but he laughed along with me.

“You seem happy, Dan.” I narrowed my eyes, perusing his tanned features. “Are you seeing anybody?”

“I’m seeing all sorts of somebodies.” He joked, but seconds later the smile was gone. He pursed lips and pulled them up to the side. “But nobody special.”

“I’m sorry.” I replied, plopping down next to him on the couch.

“I’m alright.” He heaved a casual sigh. “It’ll happen when it happens. I’m holding out for quality. Not all of us are lucky enough to marry our childhood crush.”

I smiled brightly. “I am lucky. I never thought this type of thing existed.”

‘What type of thing?” He asked.

“I really thought I’d be alone after Draven. I figured all the good guys in my age bracket were taken...that I’d just focus on taking care of me. Sometimes, I look at my life now and what I consider to be ‘problems’ and I just shake my head. I’m so fortunate. The twins...Joe...the success of the trucks...things couldn’t be better. We have this lovely house now—”

“That you do...” Dan interjected. We both took large swallows of our tea and I passed him the Cool Ranch Doritos we both knew we shouldn’t be eating.

“And yet I still find things to bitch about. I just need to get something going work-wise. I’m bored as hell, Dan. If you aren’t growing...your just aging, ya know? Stacy keeps saying we need to build up the dessert side of things. We had so much success with the holiday treats we sold last year, she thinks a store front for carry-out sweets is the next big thing. She even developed a business plan for one in one of her online classes.”

“But...” Dan offered, seeming to know that was the direction I was headed.

“But I’m not a pastry chef.” I chomped into a Dorito.

He huffed. “That doesn’t seem to matter. They were your recipes that sold so well.”

I leaned my head back against the sofa and kicked my feet up on the coffee table. “I guess I just don’t want to.”

“Then let her do it. Develop the recipes and have her give you a cut of her profits.” Dan shrugged. “It worked with David and Emmanuel. It’ll be more money rolling in for you and Joe without having to leave the twins.”

“It’s a thought.” I shrugged, thinking it might placate Stacy long enough for me to sort out my next move with Sanchez. I wanted to keep them happy, and whatever I was going to do next, I knew I needed them on my team. “I could develop new recipes seasonally for her and help her during busy times.”

Dan nodded. “You said you’ve wanted to get out a little. Will your mom be able to watch the twins?”

“As long as she’s free after school for Mason and Mac’s kids’ activities.” I nodded, starting to get excited. I could feel that rush of an impending adventure blazing through my veins. “It’s not a bad short-term plan. Thanks, Dan.”

“It’s my calling. I’m an ‘ideas man’.” He replied. “Now pipe down. It’s time to watch some rich white girl problems that aren’t ours. And we’re having lots of bread for lunch. You need to carb load for tonight’s drunkfest.”

“Oh my God, is that a stripper pole?” Joe’s sister, Tamryn snorted, as she climbed aboard the silver party bus. I was two steps behind her and I chuckled when I saw Robin swinging around on the pole with a cup in one hand.

“Lord.” I shook my head.

“Welcome to The Cherry Bomb!” Dan called from his seat near the front. A large spread of liquor bottles gleamed from inside a stainless steel ice chest in front of him. The makeshift bar was housed between the first seat and the large TV screen on the wall behind the driver’s seat. Dan was occupied, handling a martini shaker as if he’d been bar tending his entire life.

“Holy shit.” Stacy said from behind me. I turned and saw she was decked out in a silver top with a plunging neckline and a sinfully short mini skirt. “This bus is bigger than my apartment.”

“Y’all didn’t have to do all this.” I cried. I really wished they hadn’t. I would have loved a quiet night at a pub just having a few beers and laughs. When Dan said he had to leave to go get the bus, I knew I was in trouble.

“Only the finest for my very best friend.” Dan murmured, and he poured a martini and handed it to Tamryn. He turned to me. “What can I get you to drink, Miss Bachelorette?”

“I’ll just have a beer.” I replied. I was not about to let them get me drunk enough to be hungover. I’d have two babies to deal with in the morning, and they weren’t known for being particularly reasonable.

“Of course you will.” He huffed.

He popped open a bottle of Land Shark with a giant penis shaped opener and handed it to me. I shook my head. The ridiculousness of their collective verve was amusing. The whole ‘last night of debauchery’ bit had always struck me as bizarre. If I wanted to play the field, I would have and I certainly wouldn’t be getting married. That being said, I knew that the party was more for the entertainment of my friends than it was for me.

I noticed Jay and Lisa seated all the way in the back behind Robin and her beloved pole.

“Why are y’all hiding out back here in the back of the bus like second class citizens?” I asked, dancing my way past Robin and her tall, freshly frosted hairdo.

“Oh, you know...Dan’s up there.” Lisa rolled her eyes as she twirled a strand of her curly dark hair. “Jay and Dan have to stay on opposite ends of the party. It’s all a part of the treaty they signed after the baby shower.”

“Yes. Two gay men can’t occupy your orbit at the same time, Mollykins.” Jay agreed. He had his back to the rest of the party and wore an expression of utter disdain. “It’d be a paradox. We might open a wormhole to another universe or some shit.”

“Have some sherry, honey. It’ll make you feel better.” I replied, hoping gay on gay violence wouldn’t put a damper on our evening.

“Or maybe a little Gary...” Lisa laughed at her own joke and Jay held his glass out so she could clink with him.

“Oh! Molly! We have something for you to wear.” Robin exclaimed, and she frolicked over to a seemingly empty seat.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” I looked down at my red blouse and dark denim jeans. My pointy red stilettos were my favorite, and they’d have to kill me for them.

“Ta da!” She shouted, holding up a white t-shirt with a large ball and chain on it. Next to the picture was what looked like a to-do list and I could read the heading from across the bus.

BACHELORETTE! DARE ME!

“What the—” I started.

“No arguments.” Lisa snapped. “Put the damn thing on. You can take if off when you’ve accomplished everything on the list.”

“No.” I scowled at her and sipped my drink. She stared me down.

“Hey, everybody!” Kelly called from the front of the bus. She was hopping on one foot. I saw my cousins, Slut One and Slut Two trailing after her. As usual, they looked like streetwalkers and I nudged Lisa with my knee.

“What?” Lisa whispered.

“Did Dan invite The Slut Sisters?” I asked.

“Of course.” She adjusted her cat lady glasses with a wicked smile. “We need people around who make us feel better about ourselves.”

“Mission accomplished.” Jay chimed in, smoothing his sculpted red hair.

“Hey, y’all!” Robin flung the t-shirt at my face (which was painful since it had a fabric marker attached to it) and hurried off to Kelly and the sluts. Stacy looked a bit uncomfortable at the sight of Kelly and hurriedly made her way to us in the back of the bus. I cringed inwardly. We all had my brother Mac and his lack of self-control to thank for that awkwardness.

Ah well, Stacy wasn’t exactly an innocent bystander if memory served.

“Stace.” I called to her.

“I hope you ate something before you got here ‘cause you are going to drink your body weight in booze tonight.” She stated as she dropped onto the seat next to me. “We’re swinging by to pick up my mom in a couple of hours. She heard we were going to see strippers and invited three of her friends.”

“The more the merrier.” I shrugged. “They do know we’re going to see strippers at a gay bar, right?”

“I warned ‘em.” Stacy nodded. I felt my phone vibrate and saw I had a picture message from Joe. My fiancé was holding up a tiny fish with a proud, serious expression. His stance made it obvious he was acting as if he’d conquered a Great White. I giggled and sent him a quick text.

You’re such a good provider. We’ll live off that sucker for months.

“I think my mom would go see strippers on the surface of the sun if you promised her a Cosmopolitan. The gay bar will just make the show more interesting.” Stacy replied.

“Yeah. Fighting with other boys to put money in a G-string ought to make for some great people watching. Listen.” I leaned forward so she could hear me over the killer sound system. “Dan and I were talking about your school project, and I think I have an idea.”

I went on to outline the highlights of my conversation with Dan over the horrendous sounds of the Sluts firing up the Karaoke machine. Covering one ear with her fingers to block out their caterwauling rendition of Gloria Gaynor, Stacy nodded her head enthusiastically right up until I got to the part where I said she could give me five percent of profits for developing the recipes and training her employees.

“I wouldn’t feel comfortable with five, Molly. Make it ten percent and you have yourself a deal. It’s your tasty treats that people love. No one makes a sugar cookie like you do. Besides, you’re going to have to find a replacement for me at Wrapgasmic, and it might take two people to do what I do.”

“Will you still do the Twitter and Facebook and Instagram crap for Wrapgasic?” I asked.

She shrugged as if I asked her to pick up my dry-cleaning. “Of course. Will you still help me bake at the holidays?”

“Duh. Then you have yourself a deal. I can hook you up with all the contacts for wholesale ingredients. We can use the commercial kitchen that I rent until you save enough up for your own industrial kitchen. I’ll call Robbie to get some papers drawn up after Joe and I get back from the honeymoon.”

“Oooo! Where are you going on your honeymoon? Is he taking you to Hedonism?” Jay popped into the conversation, slithering closer to us and making himself at home.

“Joe does give off a bit of a freaky swinger vibe, doesn’t he?” Lisa asked, just as Dan appeared beside her topping off her glass with a giant splash of vodka straight from the bottle.

“I think that’s just wishful thinking, sweetie.” Dan said to Lisa. Jay sniffed, but when Dan held out the bottle toward him, Jay raised his glass to accept Dan’s offering.

“Put the damn shirt on, Molly!” Robin called from across the bus. I narrowed my eyes at her and wondered just how much she’d had to drink before I’d climbed aboard. Considering she was our resident medical professional, I hoped no one needed CPR before the night was over.

Minutes later we debarked from The Cherry Bomb and went into the first stop on our pub crawl. Since they wouldn’t let me off the bus without it, I was wearing the ugly Dare shirt over my pretty blouse. Thankfully, we were at Coyote Ugly, so I knew I’d be able to bang out a couple of the ridiculous demands from my shirt’s checklist right away. I wanted to shed the damn thing and look semi cute for at least some of the pictures.

The minute we walked in, I knew there was going to be pandemonium. The place was packed, but we were quickly ushered toward reserved tables that earned us glares from many women and curiosity from scores of men.

“Hey, Bachelorette! Want to sew some wild oats?” I blinked in surprise at the large cowboy who was suddenly in my face.

“Don’t go away mad, Tex. Just go away.” Tamryn replied for me.

“Wait. Give me your number first.” I stopped and handed him the black marker. He looked confused. “Write your number on my shirt.”

“Alright.” He drawled and made a production of signing my boob right over my left nipple, copping a feel in the process.

“Hey!” I protested. A flash went off right next to my face and I heard the unmistakable sound of Lisa giggling. I glared at her.

“Now what?” The cowboy asked with a drunken grin.

“Now check that off my list.” I instructed him, and he complied.

“Why don’t you come sit on my lap?” He slurred, putting his arm around me. “We can talk about the first thing that comes up.”

He smelled like body odor and regret, and I tried not to make a face.

“Wow. That’s incredibly tempting.” I deadpanned.

“Fuck off.” Tamryn snapped at him, yanking me and the marker away from him. This elicited a surprised guffaw from me, since he was as tall as a tree and Tamryn was like five foot two in two inch heels. In her designer shoes and her carefully selected couture, she looked like she should be having drinks in some rooftop bar in Dallas not slumming it on Dirty Sixth. Joe’s sister, a petite, chestnut-haired hottie, didn’t look much like him, but she definitely shared his formidable temper. I was still laughing when we reached the tables and joined the rest of our party.

“Thanks for the assist.” I shouted in her ear. “I nearly got shit-faced smelling his breath.”

“I know. Like a contact buzz.” She agreed, pointing to my seat. We were waited on immediately, and started toasting with three bottles of mediocre champagne.

“To my favorite sister-in-law, finally finding somebody worthy of her sweetness” Robin slurred.

“Here here.” Dan seconded, and then made a horrific face as the champagne hit his taste buds.

“And to my brother.” Tamryn said after we’d all choked down toast number one. “For mustering up the good sense not to let this beautiful girl get away!”

“Awww.” I said, nearly tearing up as she moved in for a hug.

“To Joe and Molly finding a gorgeous little house so that I could move into Joe’s awesome apartment and have that rooftop terrace!” Kelly cheered, as loud music started playing.

“Lucky bitch. To men with big—” Jay started, but the Coyotes started dancing on the bar and I immediately stood and kicked off my heels. Dancing on a bar or a table was on my t-shirt’s list of dares, and I had a rep to protect. One of the patrons and a bouncer helped me onto the bar and the Coyotes gave out a loud ‘yeehaw’ as I made the world’s lamest attempt to keep up with their footwork. Finally, I just free-styled it, and the bar went wild. The cowboy was front row center and he took his hat off and waved it at me as if to fan off my hotness. I winked at him and he stumbled toward me and grabbed my leg nearly tripping me. The bouncer steadied me and pushed the cowboy back from the bar. The cowboy stumbled into a couple of girls behind him, making them spill their drinks. He recovered his footing and came back at the bouncer with his arm pulled back to swing. The guys accompanying the girls behind him came after him and a brawl ensued. I looked around for my friends and saw them collectively grabbing their things and heading for the door. Jay gestured for me to get the hell out of there and I scrambled past the Coyotes (who continued to dance as if random bedlam was a regular occurrence in their establishment) and a couple of nice looking guys in business suits helped me off the bar.

“That was some performance. Can we buy you a drink?” One of them asked. He had stylish glasses and a boyish grin.

“Sure, I guess. But not here.” I replied, looking over my shoulder at the flying fists. I gestured for them to follow me out.

“I gotta pay the tab.” I heard the other guy say.

“Where are we going?” The bespectacled one asked as he loosened his tie.

“Hell if I know. On the party bus,” I replied. His smile said ‘I’m game’.

“I’ll text you where we’re going!” He called to his friend who gave him a thumbs up.

We tromped up the steps of the party bus.

“I brought a boy or two!” I called to my entourage, who let out a collective cheer. I pointed to the make shift bar, and Mr. Loose-tie was welcomed aboard by Robin, who handed him a red Solo cup.

“Where to next?” I asked Dan.

“Barbarella’s, since it’s pretty damn obvious that Molly wants to dance!” Jay answered for him, and to my surprise, Dan nodded in agreement.

I saw Mr. Loose-tie pull out his phone. “What’s the address?”

“Here, I have it,” Slut One cooed, sidling up to him.

“Where are my shoes?” I asked, accepting the shot of tequila that Dan handed me.

“Jay has them,” Lisa said, not looking up from her phone.

“No, I got her purse. I thought you had them,” Jay replied.

“Y’all, those are my favorite shoes!” I huffed, and stood to leave the bus.

“Paul will get them for you.” Loose-tie said, and I assumed he meant his abandoned friend. “What do they look like?”

“Red, pointy stilettos,” I replied.

“Molly, Molly, Molly.” Jay shook his head. “How many times do I have to tell you that only whores and children can pull off red shoes?”

“Aren’t you supposed to do a shot with a hot guy?” Lisa asked, and I pulled the material of my shirt away from my chest to look at my list.

“Yep.”

“Don’t look now, but there’s a hot guy right there,” Lisa chided, pointing to Loose-tie.

“Hey, you,” I called.

“Yes, Molly?” he asked, and I frowned at him.

“How’d you know my name?” I suddenly felt uncomfortable with the way he was looking at me. He seemed very fixated on me, and I figured I needed to pawn him off on one of the sluts ASAP.

“The guy with the red hair just said it several times.” He laughed, and I felt asinine. It wasn’t as if I weren’t surrounded by trusted friends.

Lisa was right. He had a nice smile and was hot-ish, so I could get rid of another task. Wearing the tacky t-shirt was like having a ‘fuck with me’ spotlight trained on me, and the sooner it was gone, the better.

“Do a shot with me,” I commanded, and he nodded and shed his jacket. Cheers went up as if he’d just ripped his pants off stripper-style.

“All y’all really need to get out more,” I murmured.

“So...a body shot?” Loose-tie asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Now we’re talking!” Stacy called over the music.

“Uhhh...” I downed my tequila to buy myself a minute to think of a nice way to say no.

“Body shot, body shot,” Sluts One and Two chanted.

“Extra points for a body shot!” Tamryn called, taking a shot of her own.

“Shit,” I muttered to myself. Everyone eyed me eagerly. “Fine, fine.”

“Where do you want the salt?” Loose-tie asked, and I felt the bus begin to move.

“What are my options?’ I asked, genuinely having no idea. I hadn’t gone to a traditional college, so I missed a lot of the standard party school education.

“Well,” Stacy interjected “usually in mixed company it’s the stomach, neck, or cleavage...”

“Uhhh...I stalled, looking at Robin for an assist. She was usually the one who’d come to my defense so I didn’t have to be the bad guy. Sadly, she just nodded and smiled like a lunatic. I sighed and considered which would be the least obnoxious. “Neck?”

“Open your mouth.” Dan instructed. I did as he asked and he popped a lime into it. It stood there, feeling idiotic as Stacy pushed my head to the side and sprinkled salt on my neck.

“This is awkward.” I tried to say, but it came out garbled since my teeth were busy holding a bitter lime rind in place. I saw the phones coming out all around me, and was about to back out when Loose-tie moved in and licked the salt of my neck. It seemed to take longer than it should have. He tossed back his shot and then his arms came around me. The bus jerked and he dipped me back. His mouth was on mine as he removed the juice from the lime. My supportive friends cheered like savages at a virgin sacrifice.

“Alright, alright. Break it up, Pal.” Tamryn snapped, and Loose-tie released me and stepped back.

“We’ve arrived at our destination.” The driver announced theatrically.

“Let’s go dance!” Robin called, staggering toward the door.

“Someone needs to cut her off already.” I winced, turning to Dan. He looked like he was inclined to agree with me.

“Maybe you should talk to her. She was hitting it pretty hard before we got to your house.” He whispered. “I think something’s up.”

“Ten four, good buddy.” I replied, and headed down the steps of the bus, only to realize I didn’t have any shoes.

“Shit. I guess I’ll wait here for what’s-his-nuts.” I blurted.

“When Joe said tequila got you naked, he wasn’t just whistling Dixie.” Dan cracked, and I snorted.

“Here.” Stacy said, reaching into her obnoxiously big designer knock off handbag and pulling out a pair of slip-on sneaker flats. Giving her a grateful glance, I slipped them on. They were two sizes too big, but the thought of staying behind on the bus waiting for some strange guy to bring me shoes didn’t seem like the safest idea. Especially since it seemed Loose-tie intended to hang back with me and I wanted no part of some handsy stranger. I could just imagine Joe glowering at his phone already at some of the pictures I’m sure had been posted online. Still, what were the chances of him running into the cowboy?

As I entered Barbarella’s, the scratchy tones of Rick Springfield washed over me as he lamented for Jessie’s Girl. Bars of light flashed off a heavy haze of artificial smoke that left the bar looking like the aftermath of a house fire. The group cut a swath through the crowd coming to rest against the wide bar on the far side of the room. Before I even had a chance to order, Robin was shoving another shot in my hand.

“Whoa, there girl! At the rate you are going, we’ll both be under the table in an hour.” I tried to keep my tone light. She stuck her tongue out at me and downed her shot in one quick motion. Turning away she pounded on the bar, motioning for the bartender to give her a refill. “Robin, seriously. What the hell?”

“It’s just been a really shitty week at work.” She said without looking in my direction.

“Well, it’s gonna be even more shitty when we have to take you into the ER on your day off. As a patient. You’re going to get alcohol poisoning.” I replied.

“Just back off, Molly.” She snapped.

“Wow. That sounded just like Princess Patron.” I muttered, knowing that comparing her to our ex sister-in -law was the lowest of the low blows. I turned away from her. “Can we get two glasses of water, please?”

When I turned back, her lip was quivering.

“Robin, don’t cry. I’m sorry, that was a cheap shot.” I felt like a complete bitch and Robin was one of my favorite family members. She was the closest thing I’d ever had to a sister, and I’d always wanted one.

“No. You’re right. I’m a hot mess.” Her voice cracked when she said it.

“Okay. I’m going to pry whether you like it or not. You need to talk to me. Now.” I demanded.

“You wouldn’t understand, Molly.” She said, and a tear slipped down her cheek. I glanced around and saw the rest of our party was on the dance floor, including Loose-tie, who was the meat in a Slut Sister sandwich. “You have a job where you get to whip up cool food and make people happy all day long. I get to get clawed at by drunks, talked down to by interns, and watch people die day after day.”

I put my hand on her shoulder. “You also get to save lives every day. I could never do that. Blood freaks me out. And the first time someone needed CPR, I’d choke under the pressure. I’d be hiding in the bathroom. I bet I’d call in sick all the time if I had to do your job.”

“I’m just so damn burnt out.” She released a bone-rattling breath. I could tell she was beyond done and I pushed the shot glass away from her.

“Do something different.” I put my arm around her. “You’ve paid your dues in the ER. Anything would be a stress reduction after that.”

The bartender sat down the water glasses, and I picked one up and handed it to her. She took three large gulps as I drank some of mine, too.

“I’m looking, believe me.” She replied. “I have resumes out all over town. I should have done this a long time ago. It’s like I use up all my ‘give a shit’ at work. When I come home, I’m just trudging through the family stuff. I skipped the kids’ open house the other night so I could sit at home and drink wine from a box. I never thought I’d be ‘that mom’, ya know?”

I didn’t really “know”, but my own reaction to motherhood wasn’t how I thought it would be either, so I felt comfortable nodding.

“Have you talked to Mason? Can’t he help take some of the pressure off of you?” I asked. “I know he wants you to be happy.”

“Of course he does.” She replied. “And he does help me. But we’re used to making a certain amount of money. We’re used to doing Disney every other year and having a cleaning service come in every week. Cutting back isn’t easy with my bunch. They have needs.”

“Maybe you wouldn’t need to have a cleaner or expensive vacations if your job didn’t suck the life out of you.” I replied, and Robin spilled some water on her shirt trying to nod and drink at the same time.

“I’m gonna tell you what Joe’s shrink told me.” I put a hand on her arm to make sure I had her attention. “You need to take care of you or you won’t be able to take care of anybody else.”

“Touche.” She sniffed, wiping her face with the back of her hand.

“No more drinks tonight, okay?” I begged.

She nodded.

“Wanna go to Roppolo’s and get a slice? I don’t think anyone will notice we’re gone.” I forced her to make eye contact with me and she nodded.

“Molly, aren’t you gonna come dance?” Mr. Loose-tie appeared at my side like a preppy bad penny. I wanted to scream at him Tamryn-style to just ‘go away’.

“I just need to finish my drink.” I picked up my water and took another swig.

“Oh! There’s Paul.” He waved over the dude we’d ditched at Coyote Ugly. Paul appeared disheveled as he made his way toward us.

“That place completely disintegrated after you left.” Paul explained to Loose-tie, and then he turned to give me a cheesy smile. “People came into the bar just to join the fight. The cops showed up and everything. Here’s what’s left of your shoes. Sorry.”

“Damn.” I took my trampled shoes from him and had a moment of mourning for them. One of the heels was hanging by a thread, and they looked like the big, stinky cowboy had rolled around on them for a couple of hours. I looked around and tossed them in a nearby garbage can.

“So, does this mean I can buy you that drink now?” Paul asked, his eyes wandering over me. I found his attention pretty hilarious, considering my stupid t-shirt and clown shoes.

“No, I’m buying her a drink.” Loose-tie tried to step between us, but his friend nudged him away.

“But I braved the bar fight for the lady’s shoes. What do you say? Can I buy you a cold one?” With his curly hair and bright eyes, Paul looked a little like an actor that I’d always liked. When he smiled pleadingly, I automatically nodded.

“What about you, Sweetheart? You want anything.” He asked Robin.

“World peace. And maybe a cup of coffee.” She slurred, and relief settled over me. Paul waved a money clip and the bartender appeared as if by the sheer magic of Capitalism. He took a step closer to me, his chest pressing against my arm. After the recent invasions of my space, it made me mildly uncomfortable. ‘‘What do you want?’

“Shiner.” I replied, chugging down my water.

“You heard the lady.” The condescending way he failed to even look at the bartender made me want to cold-cock him. I’d spent way too many years in the service industry to find that kind of dismissiveness anything but rude.

“Hey, Handsome. Come dirty dance with us.” Slut Two said, tugging at both men’s sleeves. Paul did a double take at my cousins extremely low cut dress and tossed some money at me without looking in my direction. He and Loose-tie went off to dance with the Sluts Squared. Robin and I looked at each other and burst into gut wrenching laughter.

“I always knew those two would come in handy someday.” She drawled. “I think I’m gonna go throw up now.”

“You need me to come along?” I put a hand on her shoulder, truly hoping the puking would work in her favor. “I will...but I just told you about me and my tolerance for bodily fluids.”

“I’m good.” She mumbled. “Do you have toothpaste?”

“Of course I do.” I made a mental note to rub it in Joe’s face that my need to carry extra supplies in my purse came in handy. He constantly joked that my purse contained The Arc of the Covenant and possibly the missing body of Jimmy Hoffa. Every time he had to get something out of my purse he acted as if it weighed a hundred pounds. Then he’d yank his hand out and act as if something bit him. I imagined what he might have said when Stacy whipped out the shoes from her purse, and smiled.

“Here.” I gave her my travel toothpaste. “Oh...and here’s a hair tie so I don’t have to hold your hair back.”

“Wow. You’re prepared. Were you a Girl Scout?” She snatched them out of my hands.

“No. But my brothers got kicked out of Boy Scout Camp once for bringing girly mags.”

“Shocking.” She said drolly, and stumbled off in the direction of the ladies room.

I looked around the crowded dance floor and didn’t spot anyone I knew. I stuffed Paul’s money in my pocket and chugged the rest of my water. After a couple of minutes trying to move a few inches closer to the dance floor and having my feet tromped on by high heels and cowboy boots, I decided to abandon the idea and just get some air instead.

I wandered out front and realized I’d just placed myself smack dab in the smoking section. I had trouble being around the smoke, partially because it gave me a headache and mostly because the scent reminded me of my ex-husband. Heading far enough away from the building that I didn’t have to inhale all the secondhand smoke, I continued on down to the darker, quieter end of the block. Our bus was parked down and across the street and the driver gave me a wave. I waved back and picked a clean bit of wall to lean back against next to the back window of the bar. There was a delicious chill in the air that helped wash away some of the excess heat from being inside with all those sweaty dancers.

The noise was much more tolerable outside but I could still make out Cher warbling about time. Movement in my peripheral vision caught my eyes, and I turned to look to my right. Across the street from where the bus was parked, I saw smoke rising in a delicate string of wisps. It was highlighted by the glow of a security light near an otherwise dark, boarded up building. I wondered if someone had dropped a cigarette on their way up the block. From the looks of the place, such a thing would likely burn the place down. The patch of shadow it rose from was at first impenetrable, and then the lights of a turning vehicle illuminated it and I saw a dark figure standing motionless. The figure was wearing a gray hoodie, and his or her hand was cupped around a cigarette, almost as if trying to hide the glowing cherry on the end. The figure lurched away as the light revealed it. The furtive manner in that move immediately made me suspicious.

I trained my eyes on the spot and was rewarded by another glimpse of the figure as another set of headlights splashed the shadows. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I was certain by the stance and the angle of the hood that this stranger was looking right back at me. I squinted hard, but I still could not see the person’s face. I took an instinctive step closer as I tried to get a better look, but the figure stepped back and disappeared again into the shadows. I took a few steps down the sidewalk toward the black abyss. A big truck turned behind me and transformed the street from night to day with its oversized lights.

That side of the street was empty. The place where the figure had been was vacant and for a moment I started to wonder if someone had slipped something in my drink. Or maybe, I was just starting to finally lose my shit for real. Then, I noticed the remnants of smoke rising up into the air by the security light and felt cold fingers run down my spine.

Turning, I went back inside to find my friends. Suddenly, the overheated bar didn’t seem so bad after all.

“Where the hell have you been?” Dan cried, throwing his arms around me 45 minutes later. I was surprised to see Jay standing with him, and wondered if someone had slipped something into all of our drinks.

“I could ask the same of you.” I replied, handing Robin her coffee, which the bartender was nice enough to give me in a to-go cup. I’d told him that she was the designated driver, so he was extra accommodating.

“How about that drink?” Paul asked, sauntering up to me. My cousin had her claws into him, but he didn’t seemed at all bothered about it.

I handed him his cash back. “I was waiting on you.”

“We could just do another body shot on your party bus.” Loose-tie (whose name was evidently Stan) chimed in.

“Nope. Crossed that one off my list.” I stretched out the material of my shirt and looked down at the black and white anchor that was still dragging me down.

“Well, what else is on your list?” He asked, stepping far too close while he inspected my chest. I pulled out the fabric even farther so I didn’t feel quite as violated.

“Hmmmm...bend me over and spank me?” Paul read aloud, and his grey-blue eyes twinkled rakishly. I could tell by the way he swept his hand through his curly mop he was used to girls falling on their back when he turned his attention on them. I simply blinked at him and felt my lips press into a thin contemptuous line.

“Ahhhh, yeah!” Lisa called, punctuating the point.

“Shit.” I mumbled, and turned and headed toward the bus. I was not nearly drunk enough for any of this.

“Here.” Robin chased after my long strides and thrust something into my hand. I glanced down and laughed. It was a ribbed condom.

“Robin, I’m not going to do him. It’s bad enough he gets to touch my ass, even for a millisecond. I can’t believe y’all. I want you to delete all of the pictures from everyone’s phones.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. The condom is for number four. I paid some guy to get it from the restroom for me. I’ll tell all of them I saw you buy it in the men’s room at Barbarella.”

I gave her a side hug. “You’re my favorite.”

“I know.” She said without missing a beat.

“Where to next?” The driver asked me.

“The Dizzy Rooster.” Stacy yelled, and I turned in time to see Kelly roll her eyes and whisper something to Tamryn.

“What the hell.” Tamryn shrugged. “But after that, let’s go have a quiet cocktail somewhere low key so we can press Molly for wedding details.”

“Now that sounds like something I can get on board with.” I agreed.

“Pace yourselves, ladies,” Jay lectured. “This is a ‘whoring marathon’, not a slutty sprint.”

The Rooster resembled a roadhouse in every way other than the fact that it was housed in a historic building on Sixth Street. Stacy nearly twisted her ankle walking across the street. For a second, I thought Kelly was going to have to lend her the walking boot and nearly laughed when I imagined Mac’s reaction if that happened. I put a hand over my mouth and realized I was already buzzing a little.

The bar was packed with a lively crowd. We’d fought our way to some empty tables and I checked off a couple more items including getting some college boy to give me his boxers.

“Molly, you could sell lighter fluid in hell.” Kelly insisted, and I laughed at her. She was feisty with a couple of drinks in her, and I was secretly excited to have her (sort of) in the family.

We’d just ordered our second round when Robin elbowed me hard in the side.

“Ouch!” I complained.

“Don’t look now, but your BFF is on her way over.” She sipped her Diet Coke, and turned to Kelly. “Have you met Mac’s ex-wife yet?”

I whipped my eyes to the right as I heard Kelly say, “No. And frankly I don’t care if I ever do.”

Princess Patrón threw her arms wide and descended on me as if she were a Venus flytrap. Though it had been less than five years since I’d last seen her (during a brief era of stupidity where she and Mac had tried to reunite), she looked a decade older. She’d highlighted her dark hair, and was dressed to show more skin than Mariah Carey. I found my face nuzzled in her newly-purchased boobs.

“Molly! Hi!” She exclaimed, and my ears rang from the sheer volume of her voice above my head.

“Hi, Patty.” I turned my lips up in a smile I didn’t feel. I could understand her not wanting to be with my pain-in-the-ass brother, but the way she used Malcolm Junior against him all these years made it hard for me to play nice. Still, my mom would want me to be polite.

“Robin! Good to see ya. Lookin’ good.”

“Yeah. Whatever.” Robin didn’t even look at her.

“Well you don’t have to be rude.” Patrón slurred, and shook her head at me as if I’d come out for drinks with her and not Robin. I tossed back my shot of Grape Pucker.

“Oh no she didn’t.” Dan said loudly, but Patrón didn’t seem to hear him.

“Have you met Mac’s new girlfriend?” Robin called, scooting back and throwing an arm around Kelly. “Kelly, say hello to what you have to live up to.”

Kelly glanced from Robin to Patrón and downed her drink.

“Hi, sweetie. Enjoying my sloppy seconds?” Patty called, but I could tell she wasn’t pleased by the looks of Kelly. “This is my new boyfriend, Frank.” She gestured to a guy that looked like Shaggy from Scooby Doo if he was ready to collect social security. Frank nursed his beer and didn’t make eye contact.

“Pleasure to meet you, I guess.” I managed, feeling like I was ready for another round of drinks just for me.

“You know, I always liked you, Molly.” I could see her blood shot eyes growing misty. “I was sorry to hear about that rich guy cheating on you. He was fine.”

She fanned herself as if the mere mention of Draven gave her a hot flash. I recalled with perfect clarity the sound of him trying to kick Joe’s door in and the venomous way he called me a cunt. Suddenly I needed the waitress to hurry up with our damn drinks.

“I heard you were getting married to Joe!” She gushed, as if it were the juiciest gossip to ever cross her lips. “Good for you. He’s hung like a stallion.”

All the blood in my body rushed to my face. Joe had told me long ago about how Patty had groped him the first time he’d met her. He’d never told Mac because he didn’t want him to feel worse about an ugly situation. The fact that she was putting this slant on it in front of all of my friends pissed me off to no end.

You could hear a pin drop at my table. I tried to take a breath, deciding how to handle her.

“What the fuck did she just say?” I heard Tamryn snarl.

I saw Dan and Jay working in concert to keep Tamryn from leaping over the table, but Princess Patrón sloshed her drink to her mouth oblivious. Furious that she’d throw something like this in my face in public, I balled my fists, but I was shocked into immobility as Kelly stepped in front of me.

“To answer your question, Mac and I are doing just fine. It may take years but I’m sure I can undo the damage he experience by being with you. Obviously your poor self-image makes you lash out at everyone around you while you pursue your self-destructive life style. When you are around your own friends, if you have any, you can feel free to be as crass and rude as you like. But when you are around my friends you will watch what you say.”

Patrón blinked her bleary, bloodshot eyes, as if trying to focus on Kelly.

“Bitch? Are you trying to talk shit to me? Why I have half a mind to—”

“I seriously doubt you even have half a mind.” Kelly snapped in a cold voice. Jay and Dan both tittered in unison behind me. “Now, I suggest you abandon this attempt at a battle of wits since you are obviously unarmed. Your best option is to skulk out of here and hurry back to your rotting double-wide down by the toxic waste dump.”

I thought for a moment that the two of them were going to throw down. By the way Kelly had shifted her weight onto her back foot, my money was on her, gimp leg or not. But then Princess Patrón dissolved into the ugliest cry I had ever seen. Snot came rolling out of her nose as she set to wailing like a two year old. Her new squeeze, Frank, looked like he considered bolting for a moment. Then he gave a heartfelt sigh and put his beer down. Throwing some money on the bar he came over and half dragged, half carried Patty out of the bar. I stood there in shock until the cackling of my two gays behind me startled me out of it.

“Wonder bitch powers activate!” Jay crowed.

“Form of...an ugly truth.” Dan said jovially.

“Ugly is right.” Jay replied. The two of them grinned at each other as Stacy grabbed Kelly and gave her a huge hug.

‘That was amazing.” She gushed, and Kelly beamed. “That woman made my life hell for a few weeks. She’s pure evil.”

“Now can we get the hell out of here?” Tamryn said, looking around as if she were afraid if she made contact with a surface she’d contract cooties. There was nothing wrong with The Rooster, but I was pretty sure Tamryn was used to something a little more posh.

“I’m sure Molly needs to get off that sore ass.” Slut Two giggled. Paul raised his eyebrows and grinned at me. My blood still boiled from Patron’s not-so-little revelation about Joe and I was tempted to take my frustration out on my cousin. I hated to burst Paul’s bubble, but his attempt at a spanking was about as sexy as a pap smear. I let him have one swat and when he tried to palm my ass after, I’d shoved him away. I was still a bit sensitive to the issue of my personal space and I planned to keep at least three bodies between him and me for as long as they tagged along.

“Alright, Fancy Pants.” Robin said to Tamryn, placing a manicured hand on her hip. “You pick the next bar.”

Thankfully, Robin was looking and sounding a lot more like herself, and I felt like I could relax and maybe have a little fun. Try as I might, I was having a little trouble pushing the image of Patty and Joe out of my mind.

“There’s this place nearby I think you’d like.” Loose-tie suggested to Tamryn. “CU29.”

Stacy nodded. “It’s nice. Sanchez and I love their desserts.”

“The cocktails are amazing.” Loose-tie insisted, and Tamryn looked at me to gauge my interest.

“I don’t care.” My exasperation was hard to miss. “How long before we pick your mom up, Stacy?”

She looked at her phone. “About an hour and a half.”

“It’s just a block off sixth.” Paul chimed in. It was odd to me that they’d glommed on to our group like they had. Maybe they thought they could get a quick blow job from the Sluts before we headed off to the gay bar. I looked over at my cousins in their hoochie dresses and hooker boots. Knowing them, it wasn’t outside of the realm of reason.

“Let’s do it.” Kelly thrust her fist in the air. The adrenaline rush she’d had while bitching out Patrón had taken hold, and I figured she deserved to make the call as the alpha female du jour.

CU29 turned out to be a very cool joint. Mood lighting and hipster staff gave it a trendy, edgy feel.

We settled into a large booth and Paul finally got to buy me a drink. It was an oversized, yellow cocktail that the derby hat clad bartender lit on fire.

“Show off.” I uttered to Paul, who’d managed to get himself seated on my right.

“I’m trying to impress you.” He tried his hand at a self-deprecating smile. It looked about as real as Patrón’s hair color. “It’s not easy.”

“I have two single cousins right over there that are already impressed. Have at it.” I replied, and looked over his shoulder. Tamryn had turned and walked away from the booth to talk to someone who wasn’t with our group. I couldn’t see the person she was chatting with thanks to Robin and Stacy’s big hair, but I figured she’d run into a friend or was ordering more drinks. I wondered if Mac had Joe at the strip joint yet and the thought got under my skin in a way it wouldn’t have an hour before Patron’s comments about Joe. Motivated to catch up with the others and actually have some fun, I started working on the colossal drink sitting in front of me.

“So...getting married, huh?” He slipped his arm onto the back of the booth behind me. I stole a glance at his curly hair and wondered how much product he used to make it stay perfectly imperfect.

“Yep.” I nodded, taking another large sip of the cool liquid.

“That’s a big commitment.” He clucked, leaning in closer to be heard over Jay and Dan laughing. “I’m having trouble fulfilling the 2 year lease on my Jaguar without trading it in.”

A flash went off in my peripheral vision and one of my cousins snorted with laughter.

“Joe’s gonna love that pic, Molly.” My mouth fell open and I resisted the urge to throw the contents of my glass into her pug-nosed face.

“Can you stop with the posting to the internet, please?” I was about to ask Paul to let me out of the booth so I could go drink alone when I was distracted by raised voices. I looked up to see one of the last people I ever wanted to lay eyes on again.

Bethany.

Joe’s late wife’s best friend.

Though I’d only met her once, her pinched and bitter face was forever etched into my memory. I’d also memorized every hateful word she’d spewed at Joe when we’d run into her while we were out on our first date.

She was a selfish witch who had no concern for Joe’s feelings and no respect for his grief. She was a drunk and a wretched excuse for a human being.

Dressed in a flawless designer dress with enough bling to choke a rapper, Bethany slipped around Tamryn who I realized too late had been blocking her path. Coming to a stop in front of me, she gave me the most condescending smile I’d ever seen.

“Well, isn’t this cozy.” Her eyes wandered from Paul’s well cut suit, over my tacky t-shirt and tattooed arm all the way down to the engagement ring on my left hand.

“Let me out, please.” I said quietly to Paul. I had just enough time to think I must have been born under a bad sign, when she spoke again.

“I hear congratulations are in order. My my. And Joe’s the unlucky groom in this blessed event? He really must be drinking a lot.”

“Who the hell is this cow?” Jay demanded at the top of his lungs.

“Oh, just someone who remembers Joe’s first wedding very well. It was beautiful. Such a classy affair. The bride looked perfect and the groom hung on her every word. Have fun following that act, darlin’. Jessica was a lady.”

Dan gasped in my left ear, and I felt him put a hand on my arm. I wished I wasn’t trapped between him and Paul, because I would have grabbed Bethany by her pale ponytail and swung her above my head like a lasso.

“I remember Joe’s first wedding, too.” Robin shot at her, her face twisted with hate. “If memory serves, you were hitting on every man in the room after your husband left with the kids. You wouldn’t know a lady if she sat on your face.”

Lisa slapped a hand over her mouth in an attempt to cover her laughter.

“Funny, I don’t remember you being there.” Bethany shrugged. I noticed her waver on her feet, and realized she was pretty plowed.

“Listen, bitch.” Slut One chimed in. “Molly and Joe have two beautiful babies. He’s moved on, so I think you’d better stop talking shit to my cousin before I kick your ass.”

I knew she was trying to be helpful, but I cringed as I saw Bethany savor the kernel about the twins. I already knew what was coming next, but it didn’t hurt any less when she said it.

“Well that explains everything.” Bethany sipped her martini as if we were discussing the weather. I could feel angry tears forming as my heart hammered in my throat. “Trapping him with a couple of replacement babies. Nice move.”

“Bethany!” Tamryn snapped, and everyone’s head whipped in her direction. “I suggest you get your ass away from my sister and out of my sight before something bad happens to you.”

“Come on, Tamryn.” Bethany slurred, her tone dismissive.

“Don’t Tamryn me, you hateful bitch. You have three seconds to be somewhere else.” Bethany blinked back and forth between me and Tamryn, confusion blossoming on her face.

“But, Robbie and Michael are fraternity brothers, don’t—”

“One.” Tamryn counter, her voice so icy it chilled my blood.

Bethany almost knocked down a waiter in her attempt to look casual while fleeing in terror. Jay clambered out of the booth and raced out the door after her.

“Oh, shit! Where’s he going?” Stacy asked, wide eyed.

“Please let me out.” I whispered to Paul again.

“Molly...” Dan gently reached for my arm, but I pulled away.

“Just give me a minute.” I mumbled, fleeing to the ladies’ room. I hurried into an empty stall and sat with my head in my hands. I didn’t cry, I was not about to give that woman the satisfaction of making me cry, but it was a struggle to deny her argument. It was as if Bethany could see into my soul and had taken inventory of my darkest fears.

“Molly?” Tamryn’s raspy alto voice was very distinct as it echoed through the empty restroom.

“Yeah.” I inhaled deeply and stood to leave the stall.

“Don’t listen to a single word she said, do you hear me?” Though she couldn’t see me, I still felt the sting of her sharp eyes watching my every move.

“I’m fine.” I said, coming out of the stall and crossing to the sink. I pulled the Dare Me shirt off over my head and stuffed it into the garbage. Tamryn didn’t even blink.

“After all the secrets she helped Jess keep from Joe...I can’t believe she had the balls to even approach me.” Tamryn crossed her arms and leaned against the counter.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” I straightened my blouse and pumped soap onto my hands as I gauged her response.

“Of course not.” She turned to face me head on, tossing her chestnut hair over her shoulder.

“What was Jessica like?” I was suddenly bashful as I shot her a sideways glance. She heaved a heavy sigh as if she’d been waiting for a question such as this.

“Honestly, I think you would’ve really liked her. I did. She wasn’t outgoing like you, but she was friendly. She had the driest sense of humor. She was always busy, like...in a crafty way. And she was good at that stuff...you know, gardening and sewing...she loved her craft stores. She said working with numbers all day long was boring and she needed the creative outlet.” Tamryn grinned, and then the sun set on her smile. I watched as she remembered all of the tragedy that came along with the topic of Jess.

“I guess she was pretty creative with the numbers, too. I wish I could ask her why. I want to know what she’d been thinking...why she’d risk destroying everything she had when she had such a blessed life.” She added, swallowing hard.

“You never asked Bethany?” My tone betrayed my surprise, and I bit my bottom lip. I didn’t want to start a fight with Tamryn, but the fact that she and Bethany had social ties had caught me off guard. Between Patty and Bethany, I felt more insecure than I had in a long time, and though they’d been welcoming, I’d never felt at home with Joe’s family.

Tamryn rolled her brown eyes back in her head and made an unpleasant noise with her throat. “Ugh! I cannot stand that woman. Believe me, we are not and never have been friends. I wouldn’t trust a word that came out of her mouth.”

I nodded, and was strangely comforted by her sentiment. The thought of Tamryn and Bethany having intimate dinner parties with their husbands was an ugly mental image, and I was glad to know it wasn’t based in reality.

“To be honest with you, I thought about investigating Bethany.” Tamryn smoothed her hair and turned to me again. “She knew way too much about what Jessica was up to according to her drunken blabberings to Joe. Robbie and I discussed the idea at length. Robbie was against it. He thought Joe had been through enough. In the end, I figured he was right. Nothing good could come from it. Joe was already wrecked and I sure wasn’t going to learn anything to get him his money back.”

I was struggling with how to respond to that statement when the door swung open, and Lisa stood before us, gasping for breath.

“Molly, you’ve got to see this!”

Exchanging bewildered glances, Tamryn and I followed her out of the restroom. She proceeded to tromp out of the building, and I trailed after her with Tamryn in tow. A crowd of excited gawkers stood out on the street staring at a group of police cars surrounding a white BMW convertible. At first, I couldn’t see a reason for Lisa to be as excited as she was. Then, I heard the shrill voice of the woman police had spread eagle against the car hood.

Bethany shouted in full voice, giving the cops the little pieces of her mind that she had left.

“I’m not drunk! Do you know who I am? I know the mayor, you assholes! I only had one cocktail. You’d better quit harassing me or you will be working as a mall cop before the end of the week!” Her pointy features looked harsh under the red and blue flashing lights.

As I openly gawked at the scene, a female officer moved up behind Bethany to try and cuff her. Two young guys in front of me had their phones out and were gleefully recording the action. As the officer tried to take her hand, Bethany lashed out reflexively, connecting with the cops face. Falling backward, the officer pulled the Taser from her belt. Within seconds, Bethany fell to the ground screaming in agony.

“Holy fuck! They tased her, bro!” The amateur filmographer in front of me said to his cohort.

“Wicked!” His pal replied. “Look! She’s flopping around like a fish.”

The two young men moved across the street to get a closer look. Lisa hurried after them, her camera out and ready for action.

“We’ve got to search YouTube later. If they uploaded that video...” Tamryn laughed. I gaped at her in surprise.

“Is that Jay over there with the police?” I moved forward to grab Robin by the arm.

“Yeah. He went to give Bethany a piece of his mind and a group of people saw her try to run him over.” Robin replied, and Stacy and Kelly nodded excitedly. “When she missed, she whipped a U-turn and nearly hit a cab. She tried to flee the scene, but the cops were already on their way because she and Jay were screaming at each other on the street.”

“Great. Now we’re the tacky ones.” I tilted my head toward Tamryn. “Patrón ain’t got nothin’ on Jay.”

“Where’s Dan?” Tamryn asked, bunching her eyebrows.

“He took the Sluts and those two preppy boys to get the bus. My money says those four will ditch out before the gay bar.” Robin replied.

“If the bus is a rocking’...” Stacy murmured, and Kelly chuckled.

“YOU KNOW, IF you’d had this damn wedding in August we could have cruised this sucker out to Devil’s Cove.” Mason called over the engine of his pontoon. It was 65 degrees outside, but the wind off Lake Travis made me wish I’d brought a heavier jacket.

“It’s probably for the best. The last thing I need is your sister getting pissed at me because of some ‘Girls Gone Wild’ pictures.” I drawled.

Mac snorted and handed me a beer. “Short shit would have our collective asses if we let you near the Playboy parties. Besides, all that chaos would screw up the fishing. Women and boats don’t mix.”

I cracked open the beer and kicked my feet up. It didn’t take us long to motor out to one of our favorite fishing spots. Graham and Nick made the oddest couple, as they fished together out of the back of the boat.

I had to admit when Mac first suggested we head out on the lake I had been afraid he had something else in mind. Honestly, it was just what the doctor ordered. As much as I love my little family, there’s just something about sitting in utter silence on the water that soothes the soul.

The fishing turned out to be lousy. Mac caught a nice sized bass and Mason had a thrilling battle with something big enough it probably could have pulled him over the side. Graham caught two medium sized fish and Nick, a fishing novice, cut his finger on a hook and dropped his pole over the side.

The only thing I managed to catch was some bait. I sent a pic to Molly and she lost no time making fun of me. I settled back and let the stress just melt away as I downed a few beers and had some laughs with the boys.

It was way too peaceful to last. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out for a look. Tapping on the picture message, what I saw made me curse. Mac and Mason both reacted in their creepy twin unison.

“Damn it! I said no cell phones.” Mason grumbled.

“You’re scaring the fish!” Mac growled.

One more look down at my phone and the calm I had been feeling evaporated like raindrops on a hot iron stove. Some cowboy hat wearing jackass was groping Molly’s rack while he scrawled something on a t-shirt she was wearing. I looked up at Mason and nodded toward shore.

“We’re leaving.”

“What?” Mason came over and looked at the phone. “Oh shit.”

Mac popped up and grabbed the phone.

“Oh for fucks sake! Tell me we are not going to need bail money just because some boy got fresh. Joe, she is more than capable than taking care of herself and she has your sister watching her back.” Mac demanded.

Mason looked between the two of us and moved back to the wheel without another word.

Nick and Graham joined us from the back. When I told them we were leaving Nick shrugged. “I probably need stitches.”

Mac reeled both of their lines in while Mason started the boat up and turned us back toward the dock. I knew that I shouldn’t be this pissed off, but after the bullshit at the laser tag place I was a little sensitive. For all I knew, this was the same asshole stalking her at the bars.

Having only had one beer, Mac was elected to be our designated driver. Mason flipped through his Facebook and chuckled, but it wasn’t a happy sound.

“Joe.” He held out his phone and with a sinking feeling, I snatched it from him. I saw a picture of Molly with some suit who appeared to be licking her neck. I could see the lime she held between her teeth and Robin’s caption explained it all.

BODY SHOTS, BITCHES!!!

Molly’s wide eyes seemed to imply she wasn’t enjoying it much. Knowing this didn’t really make me less angry.

“Mother fucker.” I muttered and Mason clapped me on the back.

“I think I’d better sit this one out if you’re going to Sixth.” Graham announced. We dropped him and Nick at their cars and headed toward downtown.

We pulled up in front of the bar they’d been in and before Mac could park, I hopped out and headed in the door. The bouncers didn’t give me a second glance. I was glad to see security had changed at Coyote Ugly since I had been there last. Not a huge surprise, bouncers have high medical bills, and I’d had a tendency to behave badly in those days.

I walked the length of the bar and found no sign of Molly or her group but luck was with me. I spotted Cowboy Hat near the door on my way back. Making my way over to him I tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey hoss.” I barked over the obnoxious fiddle music. Swinging around he gave me the stink eye before turning back to the girl he was talking to. Tapping him a little more forcefully I fought to keep my temper. “Hey man, I’m looking for someone.”

Turning around the cowboy popped a finger up into the brim of his hat and gave me an annoyed look.

“Well, my name isn’t ‘hoss’ or ‘man’, asshole. So go look somewhere else.” He replied.

“I’m looking for the brunette you were pawing on earlier. The one with the tattoos.” The look of confusion on his face was comical then it melted into a creepy leer.

“Oh yeah! The bachelorette. She’s a hot piece of ass. Really nice tits.”

He was probably barely old enough to drink and it was the kind of stupid bullshit that people his age said to each other. But I’m not his age, and he wasn’t talking about someone unimportant. He was talking about my Molly, and no one disrespected her.

The cocky grin disappeared in a hurry when my fist smashed it right off his face. The place erupted around us as The Cowboy’s friends jumped in to help him out. One of them grabbed Mason and punched him hard enough to knock his hat off. Mac smashed the guy in return only to get blindsided by a chair someone threw from further back.

Things were spinning out of control quickly. Coyote Ugly is like that some nights. Mason grabbed Mac and fought his way back to me. Using the Cowboy as a human shield, I carved myself a path outside. Mac and Mason stayed close behind me keeping people from jumping on me from behind. Once outside, I dropped the guy, stepped on his hat, and headed off to the truck.

It didn’t help my mood when I got another picture showing another jerk-off spanking Molly’s ass. Resisting the urge to crush the phone in my hand, I looked over at the guys. Mac was sporting a good bruise on the entire left side of his head. Mason had blood dribbling down his chin and had hair going in every direction. His comb over was askew and his bald spot was much worse than the last time I had seen him without his hat. They both looked at me and the three of us burst out laughing.

“Damn, Joe,” Mason grimaced, wiping his mouth. “Keep this shit up and Robin will never let me go out with y’all.”

“I’m holding Robin partially responsible.” I shot back, but I had a hard time containing a smile. “She ought to know better than to send me these pictures.”

Mac pulled some baby wipes out of the console and handed them to Mason. This set us off in another round of laughter.

“Bad asses with baby wipes. Hell yeah!” Mac crowed.

“God, we are old.” I repeated Mason’s catchphrase and they both nodded.

“So are we still going ‘suit hunting’?” Mason asked, but his resigned sigh told me he knew the answer.

“These asshats had their hands and mouth all over my girl. Your sister. There are consequences to taking liberties with my fiancée.” I snarled.

The twins snorted.

“You sound like a homicidal extra from Downton Abbey,” Mac said with a grin.

“Since when do you watch that BBC shit?” Mason cocked an eyebrow at his twin.

“The fact that you know the name of that show means you can’t give me shit, bud.” I agreed.

Mac shrugged unapologetically.

“Kelly.” He offered in explanation. Suddenly his face transformed. “Speaking of which! I forgot to tell you about what happened when I spent the night last weekend.”

“Dude, we really don’t need a blow by blow.” I murmured. “Stay on Sixth. Look for the party bus.”

Stacy had posted some pictures of the group in front of a big silver bus. After seeing Robin’s posts on Mason’s Facebook, I thought I’d keep an eye on Tamryn, Stacy, Kelly, and Robin’s news feeds. Sooner or later one of them would check in somewhere. I hated Facebook, but thanks to Nick using it for the business, both Francis and I had learned way more about it than we’d ever wished to know.

“No.” Mac rolled his pale eyes and for a minute he looked so much like Molly it was scary. “I stayed the night and yeah, it was unbelievable...but that’s not what I wanted to tell you about, you jackasses. I fell asleep at her place and when I woke up all I could think about was Francis seeing my truck outside when he sat down to drink his morning coffee.”

“Yeah.” I winced, considering how much of a mistake it had been to rent my old place to Francis’s daughter. She was a great tenant and always paid rent on time, but having her across the hall from her dad knowing that she was dating Mac was a recipe for disaster.

“So I grabbed my stuff and tried to sneak out without making a sound. I was pulling her door closed when I heard Francis’s door open behind me.” Mac raced on, talking with his hands in true Hildebrandt fashion.

“Oh shit.” Mason murmured, and Mac nodded. I whipped my head in Mac’s direction.

“I thought I was about to get shot. I spun around, ready to beg for my life and you’ll never fucking guess who I see standing there!”

We both gaped at him, waiting for the twist.

“That redhead from the homeless shelter.” He exclaimed, popping a cigarette into his mouth. “Looking like she’d been up all night rolling in the hay, so to speak.”

“No way.” I exclaimed, smirking a little at the thought of Francis making time with someone I’d drooled over as a kid.

“Seriously. She was wearing a silky green robe like a Bond girl.” Mac lit his smoke. “So there I am, no shirt, shoes in my hand staring at this woman like a teenager caught red-handed. That’s when I realize...she’s looking at me with the exact same expression on her face.”

“What’d you say?” Mason asked, and his phone chimed loudly.

“Mornin’.” Mac shrugged and flicked his ashes out the cracked window.

“And?” I asked. “What’d she say?”

“Good Morning.” He replied, doing a phone sex voice that sounded a lot like Beverly Campbell. “Then she snatched up the morning paper and went right back into Francis’s place. I decided it’d be a while before Francis came up for air, so I said ‘fuck it’ and went back in to wake Kelly up the old fashioned way.”

“Holy shit.” Mason said, and I looked in the rearview mirror and saw him staring at his phone. I took it from him when I saw his face go pale. I looked back through the last two posts from Robin. One was of Mac’s ex hugging Molly who looked like she was motor boating a pair of the fakest boobs I’d ever laid eyes on.

“When did Patrón get the double d’s?” I joked, but as soon as I saw the next picture I choked off my laugh. It was a picture of one of my least favorite people, Bethany, spread eagle against a cop car. In the next picture, she was on the ground with Taser spikes sticking out of her tight white dress. I could see Molly’s friend Jay photobombing in the background. Robin had captioned the picture ‘Karma’s a bitch, but you’re a bigger one!’“

I shook my head and ran my hand over my face. Bethany was bad news and the thought of her in the same bar with Molly was disturbing. Thankfully, Robin had specified that they were at a bar called CU29. I pulled up the map and gave Mac turn by turn directions. As we made our way up the block toward the destination, we saw the silver bus pulling away.

“Follow that bus.” Mason shouted theatrically as if we were in some old movie.

We pulled into a residential neighborhood and I saw four middle-aged woman hurry to the bus as if they were escaping a natural disaster. I was out of the truck and nearing the party bus when both twins flanked me.

“Joe.” Mason’s tone was cautionary.

“You can’t go to jail tonight. I promised the kid I wouldn’t let it happen.” Mac finished his thought.

“Relax.” I replied. After seeing the pictures of Bethany that Robin posted, I was more concerned than pissed. However, if I found a straight man anywhere on the bus, I couldn’t be held responsible for my actions.

The bus driver was ushering the last of the cougars onto the bus when I appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

“Private party.” He insisted.

“We’re here to give a lap dance to the guest of honor.” I replied. For a minute, I think he thought I was serious, but when he took in Mason and Mac’s wounds, he frowned.

“Don’t make me call the cops.” The driver sighed.

“Go ahead and call them.” I shrugged, then I raised my voice to a cheer. “Someone’s been disturbing the peace on this bus!”

As expected, whoops and laughter erupted from inside the bus and Mason and Mac looked at me like I was mad.

“Just go with it.” I smirked and started up the stairs. “Who’s getting the first lap dance?”

At the top of the stairs, I whipped off my hat. Molly’s slutty cousins cheered, along with some middle aged women I’d never seen before. Everyone else froze. I recognized Stacy’s mom, who smiled at me and pointed to my left.

I turned to see Molly wedged against the window of the bus by the mop-headed businessmen whose paddling hand had him on my most wanted list. I was envisioning ripping him out of the bus by his meterosexual hair, when my eyes locked on Molly’s. She had a beer bottle halfway to her lips and the smile that bloomed on her face when she saw me was like the sunrise after a long, stormy night.

“Hey, baby!” She cheered, shoving her beer bottle at the dude beside her and clambering to standing. I stepped into the aisle next to her seat, towering over the curly haired guy that looked as if he might wet himself. Molly stood on her seat and hurled herself into my arms. I caught her and her legs cinched around me as she kissed me like I’d been away on the front lines. The cheers of her friends echoed in the tiny space around us.

“That’ll be enough of that shit!” Mac blurted and Molly reluctantly broke off the kiss.

“Sorry to crash your party. I saw some of your shenanigans on the internet and wanted to be sure you were still in one piece.” I said, moving back in for another kiss.

“Get me out of here.” She whispered her eyes pleading like a heroine in some horror movie.

“Why waste a perfectly good designated driver?” I smiled, and then glared over her shoulder at The Spanker, who seemed to be searching for an emergency escape route. “We’ll definitely need to change the seating arrangements though.”

He got up, and his eyes never left mine as he scurried into the aisle to join his friend who sat kicked back between the slut sisters. I recognized him as the guy who’d done the body shot with Molly. Doing his best Hugh Hefner, he had his arms around both of Molly’s cousins and a cigar clamped between his teeth. He looked so ridiculous that I figured just being him was punishment enough.

“Mason! Get that ass back here and make use of this pole.” Robin called and with the cockiest smirk I’ve ever seen, Mason lumbered past us nearly knocking us into the seat.

“Prepare to be amazed, ladies!” Mason called.

Mac wasn’t far behind and I quickly placed Molly on her feet as he passed by. Mac slid into the seat next to Kelly, and Dan passed around bottles of beer and hard liquor.

“Breeders.” Jay huffed, shaking his head. Can’t even stand to be away from each other for one whole evening.” Looking back at him, I was surprised to see Jay blanch as if he’d seen a ghost. I turned to follow his horrified gaze, and saw Mason’s hat had fallen off again. “By the tits of Judy Garland. Mason! What happened to your hair?”

“Joseph, look at the time! It’s almost eleven o’clock. You’re going to be late.” Mom scolded as she opened her front door to let me in. I held the door with my hip as I balanced Logan’s car seat with him still strapped into it.

“Shit.” I exclaimed, and my mother shot me a dirty look as if my eight month old son would be corrupted by my bad language. “I mean shoot.”

It was the morning of my wedding and for the second time, I was going to be late to pictures. Molly had insisted on spending the night before apart, so I’d kept Logan at home with me and she’d taken Eva and stayed at Tamryn’s. It made sense; she had to be at The Salt Lick earlier to decorate and meet her stylist to get beautified for pictures. Tamryn lived much closer to the location than we did.

Logan had a restless night. After he woke me up twice, I took him into my bed for the rest of the night. At one point, he flipped sideways and kicked me full on in the face. Not a nice way to wake up. I suddenly had a lot of sympathy for Eva and was glad they were now sleeping in separate cribs. After checking to be sure he didn’t leave a mark on my face, I settled back into bed. I started getting nervous and excited about the wedding and I had trouble falling back to sleep.

When my alarm went off on my phone, I thought I’d hit snooze, but I must have shut it off. I overslept, and I had to shave and get Logan ready before I could get him to my parents’ place. I still had to get out to Driftwood, which was at least thirty minutes from my parents’ driveway, and then I still had to change. Overwhelmed and frazzled, I texted Molly.

Overslept. Just leaving Mom and Dad’s now.

More than ever, I admired Molly for how easily she handled both babies all alone every day.

“Bye bye, little man.” I whispered, kissing Logan on the cheek and the top of his head. I passed him to my mother’s waiting arms. My phone chaboodled, and I spared it a glance.

This is Jay. Molly’s getting into her dress. She told you to be here an hour early just to be on the safe side. She knows you well. Drive safely, Future Mr. Molly.

“We’ll see you in a couple of hours, son!” My mother called after me as I raced out the door.

Twenty seven minutes later, I zoomed passed the entrance to The Salt Lick and pulled into the gravel parking lot of Pecan Grove. As I skidded to a stop, I saw Graham sitting on the porch in his tux nursing a beer. I waved and jumped down from the truck.

‘There’s the man of the hour.” He called out. “Long night?”

“You don’t know the half of it.” I replied, striding purposefully toward the stone cottage which I remembered from the tour was where we were meant to change. I looked around for my bride, even though I knew she’d be pissed if she caught me. Her dress was a total mystery, and I was dying to steal a glance.

“You’re all clear.” Graham read me fluently. “Molly’s already down by the creek with the bridesmaids. She looks beautiful.”

I nodded, not even trying to hide my smile. “You got the rings?”

He sniffed. “I only have two jobs. I have no intention of fumbling either one of them.”

I’d some concerns about choosing Graham as my best man. First and foremost, I’d been afraid that I’d hurt Mason’s feelings. He’d been my best man the first time around, but things had changed since then. When I’d lost myself, it’d been impossible for Mason to reach me. He tried...God, how he tried. Mac too, in his own way. But they didn’t have any better luck than Tamryn did.

No matter who approached me, I just lashed out or shut down. In the end, Graham reached me by not trying to reach me. Instead, he called me and offered me a job. When I inevitably fucked it up, he shook his head, took the heat for it and just let me be for a bit. But he always called me again. As soon as whatever boneheaded thing I had done had died down, he somehow got me more work.

Through all the arrests, fights, drunken antics and ridiculous behavior he patiently stood by me. He sat and listened to me when I got lost at the bottom of the bottle and cursed the world for the pain I’d suffered. When I really needed it...when I went too far... he kicked my ass with tough love and the occasional suspension. He always hoped I’d see the light and come to his church, but God and I hadn’t been on speaking terms. Through all my years of mourning my family, Graham had been more of a father and friend than I had ever known, or deserved.

The day the twins were born, I started to believe that there might be some hope for my soul someday. As much as I tried to shake the feeling, it felt like someone was looking out for me. I was so thankful for their safety and Molly’s, I wanted to believe my life was turning a corner from the dark path I’d been on for so long.

As an unofficial peace offering to the man upstairs, I decided to have the twins baptized. I talked it over with Molly who wasn’t any more religious than I was. At first she was sure I was joking, but when she saw how serious I was, she agreed.

“I don’t have any strong feelings about it one way or another, Joe.” She said, wrapping her arms around me. “If it’s important to you, let’s do it.”

After some discussion, we’d decided to have the twins baptized at Graham’s church. Graham looked as shocked as Molly had. He wouldn’t have looked more surprised if I told him I was having a sex change, but I could tell he was overjoyed.

Always the social butterfly, Molly fell head over heels for the minister, who happened to be female. Reverend Rita had been completely welcoming, accepting us even though we were an unmarried couple. When we went to meet her prior to the ceremony, Rita was fantastic with the twins, and even complimented Molly on her body art. We liked her so much that when the time came we’d asked her to preside over our wedding. Though we weren’t members or even remotely regulars at the Universal Unitarian Church that Graham and his wife attended, Reverend Rita agreed without a moment’s hesitation. As awful as it sounds, I couldn’t wait to see the look on my conservative father’s face.

Mac walked out onto the porch, looking uncharacteristically man-scaped. “Hey, Joe. Want a beer?”

“Is it even noon yet?” I asked.

“Yes, so you’d better get the hell in here and get dolled up.” Mason replied for him as he joined his fellow groomsmen. He cracked open a bottle of Shiner and handed it to me. His ever-present cowboy hat was perched on his head, clashing magnificently with his tuxedo.

“Mason, take the hat off before Molly sees you.” I said.

“If you insist.” He replied and ripped it off his head. He was bald as a cue ball underneath, having completely shaved his head. I barely missed him as I spit my beer out in a large, fountain-like spray.

“What the—” I started, laughing like a fool.

“You were the one that said I should just shave it off.” He laughed, side stepping the puddle of beer I’d just deposited on the floor. “It’s my wedding present to you. It was this or a bread maker. This one you can’t return. Sorry.”

“It’s awesome!” I laughed. “Has Molly seen it?”

“Not yet.” He dropped a towel onto the beer and kicked it around with his patent leather covered toes.

“Shiny shoes to match your shiny head.” I chuckled, hurrying past them and inside to get changed.

‘That’s what I said.” Mac agreed.

“Joe.” Nick appeared at the door. He was wearing a tux as well, and had removed most of his piercings. We’d asked him, along with Sanchez and Francis, to usher.

“Yeah?” I asked, pulling my shirt off over my head.

“Molly wanted me to come check on you.” You’d never know that he worked for me by the tone of voice he used. It seemed to imply that I was like some court jester screwing around while the queen waited on me in the throne room. When it came to Molly and her wishes, Nick had always focused like a laser. This time, he just happened to be right.

“I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

“I’ll have her skip ahead to the pictures with her mom.” He muttered with an eye roll. If he ever decided to put carpentry behind him, he’d have quite a future as a wedding coordinator.

Mac, Mason, and Graham took a seat as I hurried into the adjoining room. The dated wood paneling on the walls made me smile, and I dressed as quickly as I could, given the attention to detail involved in formal attire. I was tying a tie when a knock came on the door.

“I’m almost done!” I called, ready to throttle Nick for pushing. Giving up temporarily on tying my bow tie I walked over and ripped open the door. Standing in the hallway my father looked up at me startled by my forceful display.

“Joseph. I don’t mean to bother you. I realize you are trying to get ready. I just wanted to see if you needed any help.”

My mind actually spun for a second trying to grasp what the words he’d just said meant. While the tone was apologetic, he stopped short of saying the words out loud. For him, I knew that he was trying to be diplomatic. But I had no patience with the man. Even on my wedding day, it was somehow supposed to be about him.

There was no reason for him to be here right now that I couldn’t see as anything other than selfish. We were not at the point where this was going to be a warm and fuzzy father/son moment. And he damn well knew it. Pushing the issue on the day of my wedding smacked of manipulation. And it irritated me that he was pulling this right now. I came close to losing my temper. Then I took a second and made the choice to keep my cool.

This was Molly’s day. She had waited far too long for it and I would be damned if I was going to let my father fuck it up. Taking a deep breath, I let go of the door handle that I had been strangling and stepped back.

“No. I’ve got it under control. I’ll see you at the reception.” I started to swing the door shut but he walked inside before I could. Looking around the small room he picked up my discarded black bow tie from the table and turned to me.

“I could give you a hand with your bow tie if you like. Believe it or not your old man has had to tie one of these on occasion.”

His tone was light, almost self-deprecating. He was trying hard and a part of me wanted to cut him some slack. Unfortunately for him, that was the ten year old boy who desperately wanted his dad’s attention. That kid had been living in a dark corner of my mind for far too long waiting for his father’s approval that had never come. I had moved beyond needing anything from this man years ago.

Taking the tie slowly from his hand, I shook my head. The anger that had flared earlier was dissipating now, tinged by something much more sour. Pity. The powerful man that had used his family as a showpiece for years and then thrown his only son out of his house was now trying to repair the damage. But it was way too late. He was trying to build a bridge from one hill of sand to another. There was nothing for him to anchor to, and I had no desire to help him. I wasn’t going to give him a reason to make a scene by pushing him to leave. This day was going to be perfect even if it killed me. Or him.

“Thanks, but I do have to hurry to get out there before Molly sends a posse after me.” I kept my tone light, almost conciliatory. I thought my unspoken message was clear, and I saw in his eyes that he’d received it.

Too little, too late old man.

The only tell-tale sign was a stiffening of his back, a slight brittleness to his smile. Nodding to me, he moved to the door and slipped out into the hallway. For just a moment, I thought about following him. Then I shook my head and sat back down in front of the mirror. After my first fumbled attempt to tie my bow tie, a hand came over my shoulder and plucked it away from me.

“Hey little bro, let me give you a hand there.” Looking up, I saw Tamryn standing behind me. She somehow managed to look imposing in her blue bridesmaid dress, but her eyes were softer than normal. “I noticed dad come out of here. You guys have a good talk?”

I gave a humorless chuckle and turned in the seat so she could help me with my tie.

“Yes, indeed. Dear old dad was making sure to insinuate himself into a situation that he was not invited to. Another vain attempt to make things all about him.” Tamryn pursed her lips as she tied the bow tie but didn’t respond at once. Only after she was satisfied that my tie was perfectly in place did she step back and meet my eyes.

“You look great, Joseph. Your blushing bride is waiting for you down by the stream for pictures. I was sent here to make sure you get your ‘skinny butt down there’.” That earned her a real laugh.

Grabbing my hand she led me outside and we walked down the stone path toward where the photographer was snapping away. I could see the girls all in dresses matching Tamryn’s, but no Molly.

“Jojo?” Her voice was softer than I had heard it in a long time.

“Yeah, Tamz?”

“I’m proud of you.” She stated.

I felt my throat close up with emotion at the way she said it. She didn’t need to say any more. I knew what she meant. After all the bullshit I had put her through in the last few years, this was probably the last place she expected we would end up. Unable to answer her, I gave her hand a squeeze. Rounding the ancient pecan tree, I caught sight of Molly and she took my breath away.

Her wedding dress was long enough to drag on the ground, showing no glimpse of her shapely legs beneath. The top hugged her curves in a way that left my heart racing. She wore her dark hair up off her neck, and the fitted cream colored lace of her gown accentuated all the things about her that kept me distracted on a daily basis. She was so flawless that she looked airbrushed. Best of all, her arms were bare, showcasing her beautiful mural of tattoos.

The rest of the world blurred into the background as I walked to her. She caught sight of me and looked suddenly bashful, and she fidgeted as if she didn’t quite know what to do with her hands. I pulled her into my arms, kissing her as if we were the only two people on the planet. I was vaguely aware of the camera shutter whirling in the background. Our kissing went on for a couple of minutes until her annoying friend, Lisa, pulled us apart.

“We need to get this show on the road, lover boy!”

Stacy appeared beside us and handed Molly a tube of lipstick and a couple of tissues. Stacy gave me an exasperated look.

“Clean your lips off, Joe. You look a little silly in that color.”

Molly giggled and blushed, dabbing at my lips with the tissue. “Some things never change.”

“What about you? Are you wearing waterproof mascara?” I teased.

Molly’s lips curled and she pointedly avoided my eyes. “I am. But I won’t need it.”

“Oh yeah?” My tone mocked her. She cried at the drop of a hat her entire pregnancy and she hated herself for it. She wore her ‘tough girl’ belt like a champ.

“Yeah. I’m getting everything I’ve ever wanted.” She locked eyes with me and the conviction behind her words wiped the cocky grin clean off my face. “Nothing but smiles today for this girl.”

I wanted nothing more than to pick Molly up and go find us some privacy. From the look in her eyes I don’t think she would have been too upset if I had. Unfortunately, play time would have to wait.

What followed next was a crazy amount of pictures. Smile. Snap. Smile, snap. Molly cracked a lot of jokes and as usual, made it all worthwhile. Even so, when it was time for the groomsman to have their pictures taken with the bride, I was ready for a break.

“Wait!” Molly grabbed my hand and waved to the photographer. “We have a few more shots we need to get.” She led me up the stone pavers and out to the parking lot. I was about to question her when I saw a familiar vehicle waiting there.

“My old truck!” I could barely contain my giddiness at seeing the restored Ford.

Molly grinned at me then her smile faltered.

“It’s only for the pictures. I tried to buy it back, but the guy you sold it to wouldn’t budge. I explained what the truck meant to us, you know...how we almost had our first kiss in the back... and he let me borrow it for some pictures. You’re not too disappointed are you?”

I looked down at her and kissed the tip of her nose. “Baby, it’s perfect.”

A few hundred pictures later, I retreated inside to grab a bottle of water. When I came back out, I heard the peal of Molly’s laughter coming from the other side of the building. Rounding the corner, I saw her embracing Mason and rubbing her hand on the top of his bald head.

Turning, she caught sight of me. “Baby, did you see this?”

Stepping up to them, I grinned.

“He has never looked better. Though he should have gone and gotten a spray tan. Every picture he’s in will have lens flare.” Molly squinted at Mason, her expression serious.

“I love it, Mace, I really do. But Joe’s got a point. Makeup!” From inside the building Jay came rushing out caring a neon pink tool box. Stopping next to Mason, he ignored the poor guy’s objections and started brushing foundation makeup onto his bald pate.

Pulling out my phone I snapped a few quick pictures. “Mason, these will look great on your Facebook page!”

Flipping me the bird, Mason quit struggling and let Jay finish.

“The things I do for my sister,” he grumbled. He turned to Jay. “This is payback for that night I chased y’all with a baseball bat, isn’t it?”

Jay laughed and puffed a large amount of concealer powder onto Mason’s head.

“That’s right. It’s karma Mr. Clean. Deal with it.”

Total, I spent the better part of two hours suffering under the photographer’s thumb before I was released to regroup before the ceremony. Graham had a cold beer waiting for me when I got back to the room. Mac and Mason were only a few minutes behind me, having had to stay behind for the Hildebrandt family photos.

“You should wear make up more often Mason. It makes you look fabulous.” Mac cracked. Mason grunted and half-heartedly shoved Mac.

“This from the guy that rides a motorcycle without sunscreen. You look like a saddlebag with eyes.” He replied.

Graham clinked two beers together and the boys immediately turned their attention to quenching their thirst.

We sat in silence on the wrap around porch that overlooked the parking lot and watched the guests rolling in. As the crowd grew, so did my level of anxiety. Mac nudged me and gestured to the parking lot.

“You thinking of making a break for it? Because I think Short Shit could catch you, even in that dress.” I smiled and shook my head. Mason and Graham looked at each other and something unspoken seemed to pass between them.

“You’ll do fine Joe.” Mason said in a light, teasing voice. “Just remember that all you’re doing is promising to be faithful to one woman and take care of her for the rest of her life.” He caught Mac’s eye and nodded toward the stairs. Mac rose and the two of them headed down toward where the wedding party was gathering.

Graham picked up their discarded bottles and dropped them in the trash. “You were going to do that anyway, son. Now you’re just making it official.”

I dropped my bottle in the trash before turning toward the stairs.

“Well, I suppose we should get down there. It looks like things are about to start.” It felt like iron butterflies were banging around inside my stomach. Graham came up next to me and put his hand on my shoulder. Looking over at him, I felt like he could see right through my calm facade.

“That is one heck of a girl you have there, Joe. The two of you are a wonderful couple. The only thing left for you to do is let everyone here know just how special you think she is. There’s nothing simpler.”

I nodded, reflecting on the sentiment as we walked down the stairs.

Nothing simpler, but nothing harder.

It was the moment in a man’s life when he was the most vulnerable. I had done it once before and it ended in disaster. But thinking about it now, I realized yet again how foolish I had been in my youth. What I had with Molly was beyond any fanciful love I had experienced before. No one in the world was more worthy than my girl.

Taking a deep breath I walked over to join the rest of the wedding party by the reception hall. Dan, who was Molly’s Man of Honor, leaned casually against the glass and wood building. Mac and Mason stood with Tamryn and Stacy. Both of the bridesmaid were fussing over my nieces’ flower girl baskets and by the expression on her face I thought Jamie was going to throw down with her mother. Molly’s youngest nephew was a ring bearer, and he looked like he was about to chuck the pillow into the nearest garbage can. Tressa and Jaimie smoothed their yellow flared skirts, and I heard Jaimie ask Tamryn why she couldn’t wear cowboy boots like the bridesmaids. As I approached, they all looked over at me and smiled in unison.

“It’s time, Joe.” Graham tapped me on the shoulder. With a final glance at my wedding party, I headed down to the rustic wooden archway overlooking the stream.

Reverend Rita gave me an encouraging smile as Graham and I joined her at the end of the stone pathway. The congregation faced us, sitting in white wooden chairs that had been placed in a split horseshoe formation. My eyes swept the crowd, and I saw Dr. Greene smiling at me a few rows back. I nodded at him, feeling oddly touched that he’d chosen to come.

My eyes shifted to the row directly in front of me. Tamryn’s husband, Robbie sat holding Eva. He was on my side in the front row with my parents. Robbie pointed to me and whispered in Eva’s ear. She was smiling at me and I waved. I glanced to my right and saw Granny Hildebrandt holding Logan. I noticed that, true to form, Logan had a fist full of Granny’s hair.

The guitarist and violinist started to play, and I felt my heart rate accelerate. Two by two the wedding party joined me down in front, until Dan took the walk alone, smiling like The Cheshire Cat. I saw a few eyebrows raise amongst my side of the aisle, but it just made me smirk. When all but one was present, the music changed to the wedding march and Molly appeared at the head of the aisle. Her mother escorted her down the aisle, taking her absent father’s place. Molly smiled softly at me, and I’ve never seen a more breathtaking sight in my life.

As Betty handed me her daughter’s arm, she gave me a look of such utter happiness...it was almost too much. Molly caught my eye and from that moment the rest of the ceremony passed in a blur. All that mattered was that she was finally mine and I was finally hers.

When we picked The Salt Lick for our wedding, it wasn’t just because Pecan Grove was beautiful. It was also because they catered the reception. There is no greater feast than one of unlimited barbeque ribs and brisket. Molly and I ventured up to cut the cake, so that the crowd could start the buffet line. Lisa was snapping pictures of the cakes, and rolled her eyes when I stepped into her shot. I gave her a wide berth, covering the crotch of my trousers just to be safe. I doubted she was angry enough to visit her well known wrath on me in front of a room full of people. And I didn’t see any scissors.

The three tiered cake Molly had picked looked perfect in the rustic setting. She had ordered cupcakes as well for those who didn’t like lemon cake. They were plain yellow cake, but the frosting looked like the blue bonnets that were in the mason jars at every table. Molly’s sunflowers and bluebonnets bouquets looked suspiciously like the flowers Francis had given her the night we first hooked up. Like every other selection for the party, they were simple but perfect for us. It’s a wonder that I noticed any details at all, since the sight of her by candlelight made it hard to focus on anything else. She pointed to the other end of the table. When I caught sight of my groom’s cake, I chuckled.

“Do you like it?” Molly asked, her eyes hopeful.

The chocolate cake looked like a saw table with a wood grain design and tools scattered over it. I put my arm around her and whispered in her ear.

“It’s perfect, just like you, Mrs. Jensen.” She kissed me tenderly, and I felt my smile evaporate in a moment of doubt. We’d never talked about the name change, and Molly had a tendency to fly in the face of convention. “You are going to take my name, right?”

She looked up at me with her sparkling blue eyes. There wasn’t a hint of irony on her face “I want all of us to have the same last name.”

We made our way through the maze of tables, stopping to meet Dr. Greene’s wife.

“Thanks for coming, Doc.” I murmured, as Molly and his wife chatted about how pretty the venue was and how much she enjoyed the ceremony.

“I wouldn’t have missed it,” he replied. He looked like he had a lot more to add, but he didn’t.

Molly tugged me toward my parents’ table where my father was engaged in some lively banter with Francis’s date, the lovely Beverly Campbell. We spent a few minutes holding the twins until they were snatched back by Jaimie and Tressa, who seemed to think caring for the babies was part of their flower girl duties.

On our way back to the head table, we greeted a few guests who hadn’t made it to the ceremony. Some friends of Molly’s had flown in from Seattle, and I was sure Molly would break her no-cry policy when she saw them. She proved me wrong once more, and proudly introduced me to the newcomers. They were a friendly bunch of misfits, and I finally broke away to carry our plates to the table as she pulled the group over to my parents’ table once more to show off the twins.

Once she finally joined me at the head table, the server brought us more drinks and for a blessed few moments we all focused on our food.

“I bet you five bucks you can’t eat all that without getting any on your gown.” I said, chewing the juicy brisket with admiration.

She leaned in close so only I could hear her. “Make it five orgasms and you have yourself a deal.”

I shrugged. “It’s a win/win.”

She proceeded to prove she could keep her gown spot free, and I smiled, knowing I’d enjoy paying up on our tropical honeymoon. Molly had great fun feeding me burnt ends and I ate enough ribs to construct a small barrier at the edge of the table with the bones I’d picked clean.

Once all the guests had a chance to get through the buffet and everyone was well into their meal, Graham rose, gently tapping his glass with his fork. As the crowd settled down, he turned and beamed down at Molly and me.

“There is something to be said for the mettle of a man or woman that knows adversity. In life, all too often we are handed burdens that are almost too heavy to carry. Today, we gather to celebrate the union of two very special people. Both have shown great character in the face of hardship. Their deep and abiding love stands as a shining beacon to us all. They are living proof that we must always strive to a better day. It’s with the greatest pleasure that I ask you to raise your glasses to our honored hosts. To the bride and groom!”

The room erupted with cheers and Molly took my hand as the clinking of glasses sounded all around. Molly leaned in and gave me a kiss and cheers rang out all around. Standing, I enfolded Graham in a fierce hug.

“Thank you, sir.” I mumbled, my throat feeling thick and painful.

Graham patted me on the back. “You are more than welcome, son. Congratulations.”

Graham turned to hand Dan the mic. Not to be outdone, Dan smiled happily out at the crowd.

“Have you ever seen a more beautiful couple?”

There was a considerable round of applause and Molly and I exchanged an embarrassed glance.

“I’m honored to introduce myself as Molly’s Dirty Old Maid of Dishonor. I’m Dan...and I’ve known Molly for several years but it seems like decades. We met in her early days in the restaurant business. I was the wine expert at a trendy restaurant and the owner told me I needed to meet the new head chef to go over her menu. When the bartender pointed her out, I was surprised. She was way too young to be the head chef.”

I turned to see Molly’s reaction, and she looked a little apprehensive about what was coming next.

“When I first heard her say ‘y’all’ I was like ‘yay! A Southern Belle! It was like finding a kindred spirit in the dreary land of constant rain. We instantly bonded over what it was like to be strangers in a strange land.”

Molly squeezed my hand, but I was focused on listening to Dan recount part of Molly’s life I hadn’t been around for. It was bittersweet; I was glad to hear the details, but part of me mourned the missed time with her. I watched Dan take a drink from his wine glass. His smile faulted for a moment, and he pressed on.

“The first time I saw her, I couldn’t believe that this pretty little thing could wield a knife like she did. She was barking orders, bossing around men three times her size. And I’m here to tell you, they snapped to as if she were a drill sergeant. Molly’s all the evidence you need that you should never judge a book by its cover. I’d never have guessed she had such talent...or such a foul mouth.”

Mason nearly fell out of his chair. Molly covered her face as the rest of the room chuckled.

Dan paused, and I saw his expression shift again. His eyes shone, and I wondered where he was about to go with this train of thought.

“I watched this remarkable girl triumph professionally and suffer unfairly privately. I saw her tested, disrespected, and yet continuously shine. I’ve always admired her courage. Through all of her loses and trials, Molly always remained generous, and certainly more dignified than I would have been.”

Tears streamed down Dan’s face, and I heard Molly sniff next to me. Dan took a second to wipe his eyes.

“When she introduced me to Joe, I knew right away there was something special about him. They meshed like they were meant to be. And I thought ‘Thank goodness. My beautiful friend finally found her other half.’“

Dan turned to us and raised his wineglass. In my peripheral vision, I saw the crowd following his lead.

“To Molly and Joe. I wish you long lives filled with love and laughter.”

Molly stood and swept to Dan like she wore floor length gowns on a daily basis. She hugged Dan as the crowd applauded.

She sat beside me again and I kissed her cheek. The clinking began again and I turned to the crowd.

“Alright, alright. Voyeurs.” I called to them with mocked annoyance and kissed Molly again with extra flourish.

My father gave a stilted toast and Molly’s mom recited a quick poem. Her brothers dropped a couple of embarrassing stories about both of us onto the crowd, who greedily ate it up. The guests finally dove back into their food and we had some down time. Glad to be done with the champagne, I nursed my beer. My belly was full and I was contented as I looked over at my beautiful bride. She turned and told me it was almost time for us to have our first dance.

The DJ cued up our song, Amazed by Lone Star, and I swept Molly into my arms. Though we had slow danced many times, I had another surprise for her. I had taken some ballroom classes with Jess in preparation for our first dance, so that I wouldn’t embarrass her in front of everyone. I busted a few moves out, figuring it was a shame to let them go to waste. As I swept Molly around the floor, her eyes flashed with delight as she gamely moved her feet to try to keep up with me.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” She laughed, and I dipped her and kissed her. When the music died, there was a moment of pure silence before everyone cheered.

Moving back to our table we caught our breath and had some water. I was thinking of trying to sneak her out early when the DJ came back on the mic.

“All right everyone it is time for the bride to dance with her father. Can the bride and her father please make their way to the floor?”

Molly stiffened and I saw tears begin to well in her eyes. Someone had fucked up by not cluing in the DJ that this particular tradition was not on our itinerary. Anger blossomed in my breast and I swiveled my head to look over at the man. The guy must have finally realized that something was up because he went deathly pale. He opened and closed his mouth a few times but nothing came out.

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor interrupted the moment. A shadow fell in front of us and suddenly Mac was there. Holding out his hand to a stunned looking Molly, he pulled her up out of her chair and gave a thumb’s up to the befuddled DJ. I watched as her brother led her over to the dance floor and for the first time all day her resolve finally crumbled and she began to cry. They danced slowly and I could see the two of them talking, but I couldn’t make out a word of what they said. Soon Francis and Kelly joined them on the dance floor, along with my parents. I was about to make a break for the cake table when Granny Hildebrandt appeared in front of me.

“Alright, Fred Astair.” She purred. “Let’s do this.”

“Who can refuse an offer like that?” I drawled, and took her for a spin.

The song ended, and I saw Molly hug Mac. When he returned her to me, I was shocked to see a tear running down his cheek. Molly was practically glowing she looked so happy, and Mac nodded to me as he turned to claim Kelly from her dad.

Grabbing my hand, Molly pulled me close and whispered in my ear.

“Let’s go find the twins. I want to give them a thousand kisses before we go.”

WHEN WE WERE kids, my cousins planned for their weddings like they were coronations. Sleepovers revolved around notebooks stuffed with clippings from bridal magazines and elaborate plans scrawled in purple ink. Horse drawn carriages, twenty tiered cakes, groomsmen in tails, and scads of bridesmaids, none of whom were nearly as pretty as the bride. Me? I’d just yawn and wander out to the back yard to play fetch with their dog. I didn’t care about any of that crap, at least not until I met Joe.

After that, even through my tomboy colored goggles, I could finally relate to my giggling peers. I’d lie in my bed every night and daydream about riding off into the sunset with Joe. As I grew a bit older and my hormones took control of the wheel, my adolescent dreams turned from marriage to more...embarrassing fantasies. The night I tried to cuddle up to him and he called me jailbait, I realized just how ridiculous my feelings were. That was the moment when I realized exactly what the term “crush” really meant. To Joe, I would always be a silly little girl with braces and birth control glasses.

So being the runt of the bad ass Hildebrandt clan, I stubbornly shrugged it off and moved on to boys my own age. I got my first taste of what relationships between males and females are actually like. Oh...the disappointment. I went through guys like a frat house goes through red solo cups. None of them stuck, which in retrospect was a good thing. I was kind of a bad kid, and my decisions were all manner of unfortunate. I snuck out constantly, dated older boys, and pulled some shit that makes me cringe even to this day. It’s a ginormous wonder I made it to adulthood at all.

When I graduated and went out into the world to make my own way, I’d buried those old fantasies of epic romance deep in a box marked ‘Fat Chance’ and left it in my parents’ attic along with my baby book and finger paintings from the third grade.

When I married Draven, the ceremony was just like the marriage. Disappointing on every level. At the time, I told myself that the union was more important than the quickie wedding...that it didn’t matter where and how we did it. The little girl inside me-the one with the knobby knees and braces who remembered what it felt like to be head over heels-threw a tantrum. And I ignored her. I dismissed her like Joe had dismissed me. That had been a nearly fatal mistake. I should have listened to my instincts and run the other way. I should have paid more attention.

When Joe and I ran into each other again, the last thing on my mind was marriage. Even after the two of us became a couple, a small voice kept telling me it would never last. He couldn’t possibly want me. This was all going to unravel like a beautiful dream, from which I would wake up hung over and alone.

When we found out I was pregnant, I thought it was the beginning of the end for us. The night he asked me to marry him, I finally let myself accept that he meant what he said. He was really mine. The way he looked surrounded by the drifts of glittering manmade snow...and the way he looked at me...I will never forget it. That perfect moment will be the last thing I think about on my deathbed.

Every second of my wedding day mattered. Planning it and making everything right was critical. Not in a bridezilla kind of way. I wanted Joe involved in every decision because I wanted the ceremony and the party to reflect both of us. I wanted it to tell the tale of our courtship so we could share it with our family and friends. From the music to the location, each decision we made held special significance. Each detail mattered, because it was the beginning of our story, not the beginning of the end.

So, yes. I refused to cry during my wedding, because it was the culmination of the happiest era of my life. We’d been through our separate hells and our reward was each other. We’d paid our dues. Now it was time to celebrate.

And celebrate we had. I kept the tears at bay all the way through Dan’s speech, but when Mac of all people stepped forward to save me during the father/daughter dance debacle, I was too stunned to react any other way.

His eyes made it clear I would dance with him, and it had been a long time since Mac had asked, let alone demanded anything from me. We’d had a mutual understanding since dad’s funeral that we had to grow the hell up and keep the family operating. It was odd that the two of us would be the ones in those roles. Mason was the oldest, with a stable marriage and established family. You’d have thought he’d be the natural patriarch. Daddy’s death weakened him, but it just pissed Mac off. So Mac had been handed the man of the house torch whether he was ready or willing to do the job.

For a few weeks after dad died, mom was struggling, I helped Mac make plans, sign papers, and basically figure out what to do. He’d left a thriving business without a captain at the helm, and I was trying hard to keep my marriage together, so moving back to run Hildebrandt’s wasn’t even something I considered. Mac threw that in my face a couple of times over the years. I have a lot of regrets about my decisions regarding staying away, but at the time I thought I was making the grown up choices I had to make.

Mac and I hadn’t been able to get to a comfortable place since, so I took his offer to step into dad’s shoes during the dance as a concession in our ongoing war. Still, the tension of the day had finally caught up to me. In that single moment, his gesture pushed me over the edge. When the tears started to fall, the flabbergasted look Mac wore nearly made me laugh. He pulled me into a tight hug, then and there. All I could do was pat him on the back and sniff like a helpless idiot.

Thankfully, he was more prepared than I was, and pulled a clean handkerchief from his suit pocket. I was astounded that he even had one, but I took it after a second’s hesitation. So there I stood wiping my nose as we moved in slow, awkward circles on the dance floor.

“He would have loved this, you know?” Mac’s gruff voice sounded strained as he leaned down so I could hear him over the painfully sentimental tune blaring from the sound system.

“What?” I asked, knowing exactly who he meant. He was filling in for him, after all.

“Dad would have loved you and Joe. He always said how much he liked him.” He looked at me uncomfortably, and I saw tears standing in his eyes. It touched me. I’d rarely seen Mac cry. Not even at my father’s funeral. It was a disturbing and oddly beautiful thing to behold.

“And Wrapgasmic.” He chuckled, but I saw a tear streak down his cheek. He ignored it. “He would have eaten that shit up.”

“Maybe.” I felt an embarrassed smile creep onto my face.

“No doubt about it, kid. You did good. You busted your ass and you’re living the dream. I’m sorry he isn’t here to see it. Or this. Today, I mean.”

“Me too.” I said, hating the high pitched way my voice sounded, like a scared little girl.

“I’m sorry for a lot of things, short shit. All that shit I said to you when he died. You didn’t deserve it. I was fucked up. Pissed at the world.” He trailed off, as if talking about it would somehow jinx him and bring all that bad luck back in his direction. I understood that way of thinking. Daddy’s death came in the midst of Mac’s short lived attempt at a reunion with Patty. Things were getting pretty bad between Draven and I, and adding Daddy’s death into the mix was an accelerant that our fiery tempers didn’t need. I could understand how misdirected love could annihilate your life.

Been there, done that. Have the souvenir penny to prove it.

“I should have been here, Mac.” My voice was much more level than my trembling insides.

“I should have come out to Seattle and dragged you home. When Robin told us some of the shit he pulled...”

Again, I knew who he was talking about. Drae. The infamous story about him spraining my wrist and locking me in a walk-in freezer. Dan had blabbed to Robin and she’d told my brothers.

If you only knew the half of it, Mac.

I sighed, thankful that Mac and Mason didn’t know the rest of the story. The other things I’d allowed him to do to me. Not because they would have both ended up in prison for murder, but because I couldn’t bear them knowing. I was ashamed that I’d gotten into that situation. I was more ashamed that he’d tricked me into staying. That I’d allowed myself to believe him. That I’d fallen for the oldest tricks in the book.

Because I wasn’t supposed to be that girl. I was Molly Fucking Hildebrandt. I didn’t take any shit from anyone.

At least that’s what my brothers thought. It’s how they’d reared me to be.

“I had to learn the hard way, Mac.” I felt that old practiced smile blossom on my face. I was great at putting people at ease about my personal demons. “You know how I am.”

He nodded. We didn’t say much after that. We didn’t really need to.

When I joined Joe at the head table afterward, he didn’t press me for any details about the discussion. I was struck again at how well he knew me. Knowing when to push and when to step back. He just leaned in and took my hand. Then he went off with me to find the twins, so we could say goodbye.

Both of our babies were sound asleep. How they could sleep in the middle of Mac’s promised Macarena, I’ll never be able to comprehend. Lisa tried to get us to do a dollar dance, but Joe and I declined, insisting that we had to be at the airport two hours before our flight. We had plenty of time, but we’d both had our fill.

As we headed out of the reception hall, everyone lined the path with sparklers to usher us off into the sunset. After one last kiss for the crowd and the cameras, we hurried hand in hand through the gauntlet of our friends and family. Near the end, we were ambushed by my brothers and nephews who’d come armed with bubble shooters for God knows what reason. Even when we got out to the parking lot and saw what they’d done to Joe’s truck, it didn’t dampen my spirits.

The entire windshield was covered in Vaseline and shaving cream, and they’d filled the back of Joe’s truck with what appeared to be dirty diapers and blown up condoms. Joe’s expression would have been frightening had I not anticipated this eventuality.

“I’m going to kick someone’s ass.” He mumbled, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair.

“It’s alright, baby.” I tugged him by the hand in the direction of my car, which had been parked behind a nearby service building early that morning.

“But our luggage...” Joe stopped, turning back to the truck.

“Jay moved it all to the trunk of my car the minute you got here.” I replied. “And Robin promised to make them clean up anything they did to your truck.”

“Wow. You really thought this through.” Joe’s eyebrows shot up, but he looked relieved.

I cocked my head to the side. “These are my brothers we’re talking about.”

He swept me up into his arms so suddenly I let out a squeal. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he carried me over the gravel to my car.

“I think you’re supposed to carry me over the threshold before we consummate the marriage.” I teased him, unable to hide my delight.

“I doubt we’ll get out of the parking lot without consummating our marriage.” His husky voice and the way he looked at me made me flush.

We did fog up the windows a little, but we had a plane to catch so it wasn’t long before we were driving toward the airport. I looked over at my husband, and the setting sun framed him like a beautiful portrait. Because Joe was a masterpiece. Anyone claiming a man can’t be beautiful has never met Joe Jensen.

I breathed a giant sigh of relief as I settled back with my hand on his and reflected on the day. Everything had gone without a hitch. Even Joe arriving late was something I’d planned for, so it didn’t worry me at all. Eva had slept for a solid seven hours, and I’d woken up well rested and zit free just minutes before my alarm went off.

Tressa and Jamie entertained Eva while my attendants and entourage helped me decorate the hall. Everyone was in high spirits when Kelly and Francis showed up to help. Even Dan and Jay were being cordial to one another.

My decorations were simple. Cream table cloths and candles decked the tables, white lights strung around the tall wood support beams and draping dramatically over the dance floor. Clusters of sunflowers and blue bonnets sat as centerpieces in plain mason jars. The expansive glass windows displayed the tall pecan trees and the view of the creekside archway where our ceremony would take place.

Right before we went to change into our formal attire, the handlebar mustached hipster from Sweetish Hill showed up to deliver our cakes. When I remembered the smirk on his face the day Joe chased me into the bakery to ask me out, it made me smile.

I hung back to fix one last cockeyed centerpiece. When I turned to leave for hair and makeup, Francis was waiting by the exit for me.

“How ya holding up, Sweetheart?” He grinned, and a warm feeling overtook me. Francis had been such a joy to get to know, and I was thrilled that he still chose to work for Joe. I’d always credit him and his quick thinking for putting Draven behind bars and though I’d tried and tried to express how grateful I was, I was too inarticulate to make it happen. I liked to think he got it without me saying it. He’d become like family to me, and it meant more than I could say that he’d be a part of our wedding.

“I’m ready.” I replied, clapping my hands together. “Let’s do this.”

“I think you might want to change first.” He snorted and his sparkling eyes dropped to my ripped jean shorts and t-shirt that proudly proclaimed “Dingos ate my baby”.

“Okay, not literally...” I giggled, throwing my arm around him and leading him out onto the flagstone walkway that led from the reception hall under a series of rustic archways to the building where my friends and my gown awaited me.

“Molly.” He paused and turned to me, his face looking grave.

“What is it, Fran?” I rarely saw him without his signature smile, and it gave me pause.

“I just wanted to tell you how happy I am. For you...for Joe. If anyone deserves the fairytale it’s you two.” He blushed a bit and I felt an unexpected sting in my eyes. “Joe helped me get my life together, and you played a very large part in that. And...I want you to know how grateful I am. Meeting you helped me to heal. It led to me having a chance to know Kelly again.”

“You did that all by yourself, Francis. As much as I’d love to take credit for it, all I did was treat you to lunch.” I could feel my face burning. Francis shook his head, then dropped his eyes to the ground.

“I was out there for a long time. Believe me when I tell you that I would not have made it back if it hadn’t been for you.” The absolute certainty in his voice caught my smart aleck reply in my throat. His voice took on a wistful tone.

“It’s funny how you can lose yourself in plain view of everyone. Once you’re lost, it’s hard to find your way back. And as for help? Well, people don’t see the homeless...not really. They visually tune them out because their existence is unpleasant. But you saw me, Molly. To you I wasn’t a bum. You didn’t just see the drunk, you saw the person I was underneath. And when you treated me with dignity, others started to see me, too.”

A tear escaped me and I pulled Francis into a hug. He squeezed me with surprising strength and I wiped at my face as I let him go.

“Everyone deserves respect, Fran. Being homeless shouldn’t make you invisible. We all have made mistakes in our past. It would be a terrible existence if we were never allowed to make amends.” Francis nodded and handed me a handkerchief.

“Wipe your eyes, Sweetheart. That photographer will have my guts for garters if I get you all puffy from crying.” I gave a snort at how close to the mark he was. When she was in photographer mode Lisa was a force to be reckoned with.

There was a lot of laughter and plenty of champagne as the bridesmaids, flower girls, and I got our hair and nails done by the three stylists who’d come to work their magic. After my stylist finished my makeup, I handed the lipstick to Stacy.

“Hold onto this.” I peered at my reflection, pleased with the results.

“Okay.” Stacy squinted as if waiting for clarification.

“For when Joe kisses this first application off.” I pointed to my lips.

Stacy cackled, but her silly expression did nothing to take away from how darling she looked in her blue dress. The perfect shade of the material warmed my heart.

It hadn’t been hard to pick my wedding colors. Blue was the color of the paint Joe had chosen for his apartment, and we’d both ended up covered in the stuff when things between us got out of hand. We’d tried hard to avoid each other, and had succeeded for nearly a month that time around. All that time and discipline went right out the window when he welcomed me inside. Our attraction had been like a force of nature. It superseded all reason and logic, and try as we might, we ended up back in each other’s arms time and time again.

I caught a glimpse of Tressa lugging Eva around. Her flower girl dress was sure to have her slobber all over it. The yellow color of my flower girl’s dresses matched the sunflowers Francis had given me on my birthday a couple of years ago. It had been before Joe gave him a job. He’d finished off the bouquet with scores of wildflowers, blue bonnets and some others I didn’t know the names of. That was the night Joe and I had first slept together, and he’d teased me about keeping them. He’d called them ditch weeds, and encouraged me to throw them away once Francis was no longer around to notice.

When I placed my order with the florist, she agreed that blue bonnets and sunflowers looked great together, but wanted to round off the bouquets with white roses or baby’s breath. I refused. I wanted simple, rustic, and elegant. I wasn’t sure Joe would even remember the flowers, but I did. That touch was just for me, and they turned out exactly as I’d hoped.

I was so caught up in my reflection of our day that I didn’t notice we missed our turn for the airport. When I finally realized where we were, I whipped my head in Joe’s direction.

“Are we going home to change first?” I asked.

“No. But we do have to make a stop.” He replied, and the corner of his mouth turned upward. It was a tell of his, he was up to something.

The longer we travelled the more confused I got. We were definitely heading back to familiar territory. But for the life of me I couldn’t think of why. When he pulled the car to a stop, I was completely confused. Coming around to my side, he opened the door for me and offered me his hand. Once I joined him on the sidewalk, he tucked my hand through his arm and began strolling down the street.

“Baby, I know that you aren’t the biggest fan of surprises. I love them. Trying to find a balance for that is going to take us time. But, I really wanted to do this for you...and I just hope...I hope I got it right this time.” I watched him, torn between amusement at his childlike excitement and the need to kiss his perfect lips. My heart swelled with love as he led me around the corner.

Gesturing across the street, he drew my eyes to a familiar building. At first, I had trouble understanding what I was seeing. When realization finally dawned, it felt like a lightning bolt went through my body. In an instant, I was transported back in time. There in front of me was my family’s old restaurant, Hildebrandt’s.

The crumbling tile work and faded paint had been replaced. The outside looked just like it had during my childhood, vibrant, polished, and new. Turning open-mouthed to Joe, I tried to form words but eloquence escaped me.

“What...”

A look of apprehension showed on his handsome face, but a tentative smile overtook him.

“I racked my brain for weeks trying to think of something to get you for a wedding present. Then something your mom said to me before the twins were born came to mind. She told me ‘That girl was born to cook. I wish her daddy had lived long enough to see what all she’s accomplished.’ After how sad you got seeing this place vacant, it got me thinking. I wanted to give it back to you. So I bought it and restored it.”

“You restored my dad’s restaurant.” Saying it out loud didn’t make the situation feel any less unreal. I was awash with too many emotions at once: shock, happiness, anger. It was like being in a boat swept away in a flood. Joe led me to a bench nearby and sat down with me.

“All but the kitchen. The smokers seemed intact, and I wasn’t sure what to keep and what to demo.” He replied, as casually as if we were deciding what restaurant to order take out from.

“Joe...” I gasped.

I saw his square jaw tighten, and he pressed on. “I tried to think of what I could give the woman who keeps telling me she has everything. Every time I asked what you wanted you told me that the kids and I were more than enough. Is it too much?”

“Joe, it’s way too much.” I stammered. “I got you some pictures with your old truck and you bought me a business.”

“It was a steal.” He replied. “The sellers were eager to drop it on someone else.”

My mind swam with a potent combination of gratitude and concern.

“The restoration must have been expensive...” I trailed off, not really sure what to say.

“Not really. Your brothers have been in on it from the beginning. We called in a few favors. Hell, some guys volunteered. They said it was a community service. If there was even a chance of the famous Hildebrandt brisket coming back, they were in.”

I turned to look at the gorgeous sight of daddy’s restaurant restored to its former glory. I noticed he’d made a few subtle improvements that gave the place an updated look. The For Sale sign was nowhere to be seen.

“How could you afford it?” I asked, feeling tears stinging my eyes.

“My mother gave me our wedding present back when we announced our engagement, remember?” He bumped his shoulder into mine playfully. Joe’s mom signed Joe’s trust fund from her side of the family over to him, saying to invest it in our future. It was pretty clear to both of us his father knew nothing about it. I wondered if that was still the case.

“But, Joe!” I started, thinking about the babies, their college fund, Joe’s business, and all the other things he could have done with hundreds of thousands of dollars.

“But nothin’, baby girl.” He tipped my chin so that he was looking me in the eye. “I’m investing in you. In us. Everything you touch turns to gold. You can do anything you set your mind to. You’ve proven so time and time again. I believe in you.”

I was so choked up that when I spoke, my words came out sounding strangled. “Thank you.”

Joe put his arm around me and I rested my head on his shoulder. “You don’t have to open the place. It’s yours to do with as you please. Sell it, burn it down. It’s entirely up to you. I just wanted you to see it the way it used to be. I can’t have that sad look on your face ever again. Not if I have the power to do something about it.”

The sound of the surf woke me, and I opened my eyes to the faint glow of dawn wrestling to overthrow the horizon. It was early, but we’d gained an hour during the flight to Cabo San Lucas, so for me, it was actually sleeping in. Add in the lack of a two a.m. feeding, and I felt decadent.

I sat up on the edge of the king-sized bed and stretched. Picking up my panties, which had somehow ended up on a standing lamp nearby, I took a moment to admire the oceanfront room Joe had booked for us. Now that I could actually see it in the light of day, I realized it was no standard room. It was spacious enough that we could spend hours in the room without feel cooped up. The neutral tones were inviting and elegant without feeling obnoxious.

I was wearing Joe’s t-shirt from the night before, having lost my lingerie somewhere in the tangled bed sheets. He’d insisted on handing me the shirt off his back, making some crack about not wanting me to get a chest cold.

That’s my husband. Chivalry over comfort.

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw he still slept soundly, in his typical position on his stomach. The twisted sheets fell short of covering my favorite feature, the arch of his back sloping down to his perfect ass. Resisting the temptation to trail my finger down his spine and slip my hand beneath the sheets, I stepped into my panties and padded over to the sliding door. I quietly slid it open and strolled out into the warm, breezy morning. I breathed in the salty air and sighed.

When I opened my eyes, the expanse of the azure Pacific made me suck in a loud breath. A long white ribbon of beach stood between me and the endless blue, and I had the strong desire to run down the beach and dive into the rolling waves.

As I reached out to grasp the wooden rail, I caught site of my wedding band which now spooned snugly against the engagement ring I’d worn on my left hand for many months. I stared at them for a long while, moved by their significance. This was all too good to be true.

A feeling of foreboding gripped my heart, and I fought with myself to let it go. After several deep breathing exercises and forcing myself to sit and then stand back up again, I was consumed with the need to touch Joe. I needed to hold him against me to confirm that this wasn’t some wildly vivid dream.

I turned to do just that and he was there in the doorway, almost as if he’d read my mind. The intensity of his eyes on me was the truest, most anchoring real there was, and I felt the invisible burden I’d been struggling with leave me as if it had sprouted wings.

Joe had never looked better. His fair hair was mussed from sex and sleep, and it complimented his golden brown skin. His navy boxer briefs hung low on his hips, and the defined lines of his body made me hungry, but not for breakfast. Try as I might, I couldn’t decide which part of him I wanted to touch first.

He closed the distance between us, and in typical Joe fashion, he made the decision for me as he pulled me against his rock hard chest.

“Mornin’,” I said between kisses to his collar bone and neck. His spicy smell made me melt further into him.

“Good morning, my beautiful wife.” He whispered, making me tingle everywhere from my scalp to my bright red toenails. “Ready for some—”

“Coffee?” I asked, pulling back just far enough to see myself reflected in his olive eyes.

His eyes crinkled as a smile claimed him. “Yeah. That’s what I was gonna say.”

He pulled me into the shower, and we got very dirty before we cleaned up. Joe tossed on a red shirt and a pair of kaki cargo shorts. Following his lead, I wore some simple flat sandals and a white sundress with tiny flowers all over it.

When we finally made it down to breakfast, I was delighted when the hostess sat us at a table right out on the beach.

“You chose well, handsome. It’s so beautiful here.” I sighed, trying to take everything in. My eyes settled on Joe, who regarded me with a loaded grin. “What?”

“For someone who had to be dragged kicking and screaming on a honeymoon, you sure seem to be enjoying it.” He puckered his lips as if in contemplation and I leaned in to kiss them.

“You know better. Speaking of which.” I reached for my phone and dialed Tamryn’s number. She sounded chipper and assured me that Eva was doing well and slept through the night.

While I was talking to her, I saw Joe dial his phone and heard him discussing Logan with Robin. I hung up with Tamryn in time to hear him say, “Yep. Sounds like Logan. He’s a little shit. Tell the girls to keep their hair away from him, too.”

I giggled as the waitress deposited a plate of sweet rolls and fruit between us and poured our coffee. I was adding cream to both of our mugs when he hung up the phone and shook his head.

“That son of yours...” He picked up my phone and stuffed both of them into my purse. “He’s going to give someone a concussion. He’s got quite a kick. I’m lucky that I didn’t have a shiner for the pictures.”

“You did have a Shiner in several of the pictures, as I recall.” I quipped, referring of course, to our favorite Texas beer. He gave me an appreciative grin and raised his coffee to his lips. “So what did you plan for us to do here in Cabo...besides have copious amounts of sex?”

He wriggled his eyebrows at me and grinned rakishly. “I planned two things a day. I didn’t want to over-schedule us. We don’t have to do any of it if you don’t want to. I’m cool either way. I just want to chill with you.”

I put my hand on his knee and leaned in for a kiss. “You say the sweetest things.”

“I do have some rules, though.” He slid his eyes sideways at me as he took an aggressive bite of cinnamon roll.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well don’t keep me in suspense, Master.” I joked. As much as it initially upset me, I secretly loved it when Joe tried to get bossy. It was so adorable.

“First of all...the phones stay put away. We check messages once in the morning and once at night. We’ll check on the twins twice a day. Otherwise, we stay unplugged.”

“But what about pictures?” I whined. I hadn’t brought a camera. Who the hell needs one of those these days? “If you think I’m not getting a pic of you in just your swim trunks, you’re smokin’ something.”

“Alright. But if I catch you posting it I’m tossing your phone in the ocean.”

“I’d like to see you try.” I smirked.

He narrowed his eyes with a smirk of his own. “Don’t make me turn you over my knee, Little Girl.”

I felt a cheeky smile twisting on my lips. “Maybe that’s what I’m going for. Did you ever think of that?”

We spent the morning parasailing, and I can say without hesitation it was one of the most exhilarating experiences of my life. We went up at the same time. Joe had arranged it that way, and it was pretty insightful of him. He’d have been freaking out the entire time I was in the air, and it was nice to not have him worrying about me. He did have them double-check that I was secure, but I’d grown accustom to Joe’s cautious nature, and I appreciated that it was coming from a place of adoration. Sometimes, he was so over protective it was embarrassing. Like the time someone almost bumped me with their car when we were walking through the parking lot. It was a month before I found out I was pregnant, and Joe ripped the guy a second asshole the moment he stepped out of his car, cornering him physically. I thought the young man was going to piss himself, and I stepped between them and scolded Joe for making a scene. He stepped back and let the kid pass. Showing wisdom beyond his years, the kid bolted into the store. Joe refused to apologize.

“You’re the most precious thing in my world.” He told me, taking me by the hand and leading me into the store. “That little fuck needs to watch where he’s going.”

Like I said, sometimes Joe was over the top, but most of the time his passion to look out for me just made me feel valued. And even when he went too far, part of me liked it.

He made me feel safe.

The rest of the day was spent in the pool and our hotel room. Joe continued to slather me with sunscreen so I didn’t fry, and I somehow managed to remain burn free.

Just before we went out for a sunset booze cruise, we called to check on the twins and I posted all of my shirtless Joe pics to Facebook. The comments from Jay and Dan were hysterical, and some of them made Joe blush. Thankfully, Mason chimed in with his snark and turned their virtual cat-calling into a big joke.

The next few days were a mix of sand, sun, and adventure. We snorkeled, which I never thought I’d have the guts to do. I loved the water, but getting into it was a tougher experience than it was when I was a kid. The whole incident with Draven nearly drowning me kind of put a damper on frolicking in the waves. Somehow, Joe coaxed me to try it.

“It’s okay, baby. I got you.” He wrapped his arm around my waist and held me against him with one arm as he waded further into the surf. The rocks provided a break that formed a small lagoon, and the water was so clear that I could see the bottom. I saw fish swimming right up to our legs, and I couldn’t suppress a squeak of surprise.

“Shhh...they won’t hurt you.” He whispered, his lips grazing my ear. He took his time getting me comfortable with putting my face in the water and breathing properly. Joe was a patient teacher, and soon we were paddling the length of the lagoon together. Schools of fish in every shade of the rainbow zigged and zagged beneath us, and the time passed quickly. I was grateful that Joe had pushed me outside my comfort zone, and was amazed at how much he knew about the pastime. I wondered if he’d gone snorkeling with Jessica on their honeymoon, and when mental pictures of him with his perfect blonde dream girl started to dampen my mood, I tried not to dwell on them.

That afternoon we went zip lining. Joe was so excited, it was like watching my nephews at the state fair. We had a blast, and the hung over college kids who were on the excursion with us seemed annoyed that we weren’t as miserable as they were. Since they were taking turns puking into the trees, we got to go a couple of extra times. Joe was practically glowing when the guide suggested it.

We also did a Jeep excursion into the dessert. We sat in the back and listened to the elderly couple in front of us bitch about everything from the speed our driver traveled to the dessert being too dusty. Joe and I had a good time rolling our eyes behind their backs, but their East Coast accent set my teeth on edge. It reminded me way too much of Draven, and he was the last thing I wanted to think about.

“You two here for your anniversary?” The old man called back to Joe.

“No. Our honeymoon.”

“Congrats! You have quite the looker there.”

“That’s why I married her.” I elbowed him and he pressed his lips together and held his gut with a silent laugh.

“Just wait till you have a couple of children, honey. That figure will be trashed and he’ll be more interested in the television than you.” His wife called back.

“Actually, we have twins.” I stated as we came to a stop at a scenic overlook. The couple both turned around and gaped at me in surprise.

“Twins!” The old man turned to Joe and offered his hand. Joe shook it, looking amused. “She bounces back nicely. What a pair of legs!”

“Herb! Honestly!” His wife muttered, shuffling away from the vehicle.

We wandered around, snapping pictures and holding hands. I kept stopping for a better view, but Joe seemed pretty bored.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” I sighed, when we’d finally hiked out to the waterfall at Fox Canyon.

He shrugged. “It looks like west Texas.”

“I think it’s cool.” I replied, snapping some pictures.

“You were away too long.” His lips curled in a sexy, Elivis-like snarl. “All that time in Washington State made you homesick for barren lands and stunted trees.”

“There’s no place like home.” I shrugged, cuddling up to his side. I pulled away from him and stripped off my top. “I’m going for a swim. Are you coming?”

I didn’t have to ask him twice.

“Don’t look now, but I think you’re starting marital bedlam.” Joe said, and I saw the elderly woman storm off in the direction of the Jeep. Her husband was trailing after her, but he was looking over his shoulder at me in my swimming suit.

“That poor man.” I mumbled. “I hope we’re never like that.”

“I want to grow old and grouchy with you.” He replied, and I laughed a little too loud.

Once we were canoodling in the water, he asked. “So you really like it here?”

“I love it. Thank you for bringing me.” I wrapped my entire body around him, glad for the buoyancy of the water as well as the privacy.

“Think we should move here?” He joked. “Wrapgasmico Mexicano?”

I huffed out a laugh. “I’m not going anywhere. Austin is the most beautiful place in the world.”

He snorted, rolling his eyes in disbelief.

“I’m serious.” I splashed him. “It’s where we fell in love.”

He blinked his droplet covered eyelashes and brushed a wet strand of hair off my cheek. “I love you, baby.”

We stopped at a brewery on our way back for lunch and Joe and I tasted the local beer. The brews were delicious, and we both agreed we could live happily in Mexico without ever drinking the water.

Our trip continued to be relaxing and carefree. Every time we checked on the babies they were doing great. I started sleeping a full eight hours, and I actually felt more rested than I had since before I married Draven.

When Joe and I weren’t on an adventure of some sort, we spent a lot of time at the swim up bars. I discovered that my husband had a thing for sweet girly drinks and teased him about it, singing the lyrics to Escape (The Pina Colada Song). He tickle-tackled me and kissed me to shut me up.

When we weren’t at the pool, we were lounging in our private beach bed. The bed was a large wicker canopy with flowing curtains. Though there was a great deal of snuggling and some pretty heavy make out sessions, we refrained from taking things too far on the beach. Joe was afraid the footage would end up on the internet and his employee, Nick would see it.

Our nights were spent alternating between ferociously hot sex and relaxed, languid love-making. I tried out every piece of lingerie I was given for my bachelorette party, and they all seemed to do the trick. Joe’s favorite seemed to be a black see through baby doll with a matching thong. It was the only one of the ensembles that he left on me for more than ten minutes.

Sometimes we were late to excursions because one of us decided we were more important than someone else’s itinerary. Oddly, no one ever left without us. I guess the word was out that we were honeymooners, and there was a certain expectation that clocks didn’t mean as much to us. Everyone, locals and guests alike, seemed willing to give us a free pass.

A couple of nights before we were set to come home, we rented a car and drove an hour down the coast to San Jose del Cabo. The town square and the architecture of the cathedral made me swoony, and we ate some great authentic Mexican food. We had to turn down two or three drug dealers who offered us pot and ecstasy, but we found some terrific local art galleries intermingled with the strip clubs. I quickly became obsessed with the painting of a particular artist, and decided to buy a large canvas with cacti and bold desert flowers painted across it.

“Where the hell are you gonna put that?” He joked, as I picked it up and carried it to the counter. “In your carry-on?”

“Nope.” I replied. “It’s going in our bedroom.”

“The hell it is.” He plucked it from me and headed back to put it in its rightful spot.

“Please?” I whined, trailing after him. “Joe, it’s amazing! I want to wake up to it every morning.”

“You’re joking.” His cocked eyebrow told me that he didn’t think it was as aesthetically pleasing as I did.

“No, I’m not. I want to open my eyes every single morning and see you lying on one side of me and that picture hanging on the other.”

He frowned down at the painting, and I ran the pads of my fingers along the back of his neck.

“Every time I look at it it’ll remind me of our honeymoon.” I added quietly in my sweetest voice. His eyes swept my face and I blinked at him demurely, watching his resolve slowly wither.

“How are we gonna get it home?” He moaned, as if I were a monstrous burden to his good time.

I smiled. “They’ll ship it.”

“You owe me, woman.” His deep, virile voice held much more promise than threat. As he marched it up to the counter and pulled out his wallet, I admired the view of him from behind.

Our last day was perfection. In the morning, we swam with the dolphins and I was so moved by the experience it made me cry. Joe wouldn’t let it go.

“Sure...no crying at our wedding but the dolphins bring you to tears.” He teased.

I wrinkled my nose, dunked him, and then swam away as he tried to grab me. The wide smile he wore as he stroked the smooth sleek dolphin gave him away. He seemed to have been as touched by the experience as I was.

We went back to the room for a midday nap. As expected, nap time digressed into a sweaty, scream-inducing romp.

As we lay panting side by side afterward, laughter erupted from me like Old Faithful.

“Do I amuse you?” Joe’s dry impression of Joe Pesci made me laugh even harder.

“It’s really no wonder we got pregnant, is it?” I asked, and he began to laugh too.

“Ready to make another one?” He asked, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. I grabbed a pillow and smacked him in the face with it.

We spent our final night walking along the beach before our candle lit dinner at a private table set up next to our beach bed. The only person around was our server, and only when we needed him. We sat watching the sunset and savoring impeccably prepared seafood. A light breeze made the palm fronds sway hypnotically, and I tried to commit every detail of the scenery to memory.

“I miss the kids.” Joe confessed, tossing down his cloth napkin onto his partially eaten plate.

“Me too.” I murmured.

“Ready to go home, baby girl?”

“Almost.” I sipped my wine and allowed my eyes to travel down to the spot where his buttoned up shirt ended. “There’s one thing we haven’t done yet that I have my heart set on.”

His eyebrow arched, and I saw his jaw working as he suppressed a smile. “Is that so?”

I nodded.

“I think we’re done.” Joe called to the server. The man nodded with a knowing glance in my direction and hurried away with the plates.

“So sex on the beach?” I asked, standing and offering him my hand.

“Naughty girl.” He growled, and backed me up to the beach bed. “Why don’t we go back to the room?”

“Come on, Joe.” I purred, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

THE SECOND WE landed Molly had her phone to her ear.

“Robin. We just touched down.” Her speech was rushed and her pale eyes sparkled. “Can you bring Logan over to the house? We need to stop and pick up a couple of things, but it shouldn’t take long.”

I saw her nodding as I grabbed our bags down from the overhead compartment.

“Great. Thanks so much, hun! We’ll be home in an hour, okay?”

Following my wife’s lead, I called Tamryn as we lugged our bags to the car. Tamryn asked if she could meet us halfway between our place and theirs, since she had to get her girls ready for school in the morning and their ranch was pretty far outside of town.

“Sounds like a plan.” I replied. ‘Thanks for keeping Eva, Tamz.”

“She was an angel.” Tamryn replied.

We swung by the small grocery store closest to our house. I took off down the aisle to grab milk and eggs. Meanwhile, Molly picked out some fresh fruit and vegetables. She snatched up a can of formula and a bag of diapers and hurried to join me in line for check out.

“We can come back for more later.” She insisted, looking eager and exhausted at the same time. “Right now I just want to get home to the kids.”

“I feel ya, babe.” I ran my hand down her back as we waited in line. She leaned against me for support, and I lovingly stroked her long hair. Though we’d both agreed during the flight home that the trip couldn’t have been more perfect¸ we were both ready to hug our babies and sleep in our own bed. “Why don’t I drop you off and go grab Eva? You can put this stuff away and you can spend some one on one time with Logan. I hate to drag him back out.”

“Alright.” The soft, sweet lilt in her voice made me want to kiss her right there in the middle of the grocery store, but it was inappropriate. I had to recondition myself from the honeymoon to being back into the real world. My mature and reasonable decision to behave was one I would soon regret.

We pulled into the driveway and saw that Mac and Mason had returned my truck. We climbed out and I trotted up to inspect my vehicle. As promised, it looked and smelled better than it had when I’d parked it for the wedding.

Molly was on her way into the house with the groceries when Robin pulled up.

“How was Cabo?” Robin called, opening her back door and removing Logan. “Did you get any tattoos?”

“Yep.” I replied, as Molly came back out. “I got a tramp stamp that says ‘Molly’.”

“Ooooo. Sexy!” Robin replied, as Molly went to claim our son.

“Hello, big boy!” She exclaimed, and he flailed with excitement when he saw her. “Look at how much hair you have! I think we’ll have to stop calling him Lex, Joe.”

I sat down the luggage to go greet my son. He was all smiles, and his hair was indeed growing back, thick and dark like his mother’s.

“You have more hair than Uncle Mac does, that’s for sure.” I kissed him, and he cooed. Later, I’d reflect on that moment and wish I’d taken him from her and given him a proper hug. “I’m gonna go get Eva. Robin, do you mind helping Molly with the luggage?”

“Not at all.” She replied, scooping up a bag. I waited until they were both safely on the front stoop before I backed out with a quick wave. Molly took Logan’s wrist and made him wave at me. I blew them a quick kiss and set off for my meeting spot with Tamryn.

When I got to the parking lot of the pizza place we’d agreed to meet at, Tamz was parked under a streetlamp. When I opened the door and reached into the car to remove Eva, the smile on my daughter’s face floored me. It had only been six days, but it seemed like she’d grown a couple of inches. For the first time since she was born, I saw a twinge of Molly in her happy expression. For the next few minutes, I kissed and snuggled her while she jabbered happily away at me.

Tamryn climbed out of the car and we chatted a bit about what a production it had been to move all of the wedding gifts to our house. She informed me that they were in the dining room, for lack of a better place to put them.

“We all thought we’d invite ourselves over on Saturday and have a potluck so we could watch you open them. I’d love to hear about the honeymoon.”

“No. You wouldn’t. Trust me.” I coughed out a laugh, trying to imagine a PG version of events.

Tamz laughed. “Okay, fine. But we’re coming over and I know mom and dad want to come too.”

“Of course they do.” I sighed, shaking my head a little.

“Joe...” She started.

“Tamryn...” I replied, in the same long suffering tone of voice.

“He’s trying.” She stated pointedly.

“No shit.” I joked. “Very trying.”

“Meet him halfway, Joe. Life’s too short for all this drama.” She kissed Eva, and popped her door open, pulling out the diaper bag.

Seeing the sad look in my sister’s eyes made me feel like a dick. She’d suffered my bullshit for a long time and never made me feel unwelcome. I figured the least I could do is offer my father the same courtesy.

“Fine.” I said, and the shocked look on her face was worth the concession. “Tell them to come. But tell them I want kolaches from that place mom loves.”

“Deal.” She replied, taking Eva back while I moved the car seat from her BMW to my truck.

Eva jabbered and babbled all the way home. When I pulled up into the driveway, her antics distracted me from noticing anything was out of the ordinary. That is until I saw the front door standing wide open. Alarm shot through me and that feral animal sleeping inside of me came awake at once, alert and cautious. Dropping the diaper bag just inside the door I called out for Molly. There was no answer.

Rushing past the mountain of gifts in the dining room and into the kitchen, the first thing I saw was the apples that Molly had just handpicked at the grocery store. They were scattered all over the kitchen floor. Her purse was on its side on the kitchen table, and her keys lay in the middle of the floor like the focal point in some abstract art piece. The pepper spray on her key ring drew my eye, and I felt my blood turn to ice.

Holding Eva to my chest, I looked around for any sign of what was going on. I pulled out my phone and dialed Molly’s number. I nearly jumped out of my skin when her ringtone blared from the purse on the table.

To my right, I saw something splattered on the floor and cupboard. Stepping closer, I realized with a sinking stomach that whatever it was, it was red in color...like partially dried blood.

There wasn’t a lot of it, in fact, it was barely enough to notice. I tried to convince myself that the stuff on the cupboard was just dried tomato sauce or baby food, but Molly kept an immaculate kitchen. I knew in my bones what it was and that knowledge nearly paralyzed me.

Logan’s baby seat sat on the kitchen counter, empty. As I looked around, I realized that his diaper bag was gone. Rushing through the house, I clung protectively to Eva as I checked every room and every closet. As I approached our bedroom door, I imagined Molly and Logan asleep on the bed.

Please, God. Please please please.

But the bed was cold and empty.

I ended up back near the still open front door just in time to see Penny, our neighbor, cutting across the lawn.

“Hey, Joe, welcome back.” I stepped out onto the porch, Eva nuzzled into my chest and gave a hiccup.

“Penny! Have you seen Molly?” She gave me a quizzical nod and then gestured toward the road.

“Yeah. She left just a little bit after you dropped her off.” Her cheerful smile gave me an inkling of hope that there was a rational explanation that my tired mind hadn’t been able to extrapolate. “She was with your brother. I have to say, I was pretty surprised that they didn’t put the baby in a car seat.”

I felt like my heart stopped in my chest and a heavy weight settled onto me making it hard to breathe.

“Penny....I don’t have a brother.” I spat the words out with effort.

The look of confusion she gave me was replaced by genuine wide-eyed concern.

“Oh my word, Joe! He was around the entire time you were gone. He knew where Molly’s spare key was... he stayed here every single night! I thought he was a prowler at first, but he seemed too well dressed. I almost called the police the first time I saw him skulking around. But then he came over as friendly as can be and introduced himself. He said he was your brother and told me he was watching the house for y’all.”

“What did he look like?” I could barely keep my voice steady.

“Kind of like you. Tall, blonde, handsome.” She held a hand up and dug her cell phone out of her pocket “You know what? I can do you one better. Before he approached me, I took a few pictures of him to show the cops. I still have them on my phone.”

I was shaking so hard that I had to wrap both arms around Eva for fear I might drop her. Penny flipped through the pictures, showing me a digital slideshow of Draven Cirone letting himself into my house. Right before my eyes in high res living color.

That bastard had been in our house.

That bastard had my wife and son.

I have to confess that I don’t remember much at all about the next few hours. I called 911 and then, with Penny’s help, I called everyone I knew. Tamryn pulled up just after Molly’s brothers and Betty did. The Austin police department questioned me and Penny and took copies of the pictures on Penny’s phone including a few shots of the car Draven had been driving. When my parents arrived, my mother rushed over to me and embraced me. She was hysterical, and she cradled Eva and me, rocking back and forth. My father didn’t even make eye contact with me. He was already on his cell phone barking orders and within twenty minutes a pair of FBI agents were taking charge of the investigation.

I refused to let anyone else hold Eva. I couldn’t have if I wanted to. My hands seemed glued to her. I’d had one job. One. To protect my family. I’d already failed two of them. There was no way in hell I was going to let Eva out of my arms much less out of my sight.

As the evening wore on, the Austin PD left and the FBI settled in for the long haul. They moved our wedding gifts out of the dining room and into Logan’s room and then set up a bunch of equipment on the dining room table. They attached something to my phone. They said it was to trace and record any calls coming in...that they’d be ready if Draven called with demands.

I knew down deep it was a waste of time. That crazy bastard wouldn’t call me. Not with ransom demands at least. Maybe to taunt me...or to gloat about...I couldn’t even let the thought finish in my head.

Turning away from their fruitless efforts, I found Tamryn and Robin standing behind me.

“Jojo, let us take Eva.” Tamryn’s level tone was soothing and practiced. “She needs a bottle and it’s past her bedtime. I promise we’ll guard her with our lives. At least, let us help with this.”

I shifted my eyes from Tamryn to Robin and grudgingly handed Eva over. They were right, she needed a quieter environment. Granny Hildebrandt’s sobbing made my mom seemed subdued. Betty didn’t look much better, but she was thankfully silent at least. Betty hugged me hard and I was too numb to offer her any comfort.

She and Granny joined Tamryn and Robin on the far side of the room. The four of them huddled together in our living room like a pack of lionesses guarding my daughter. I kept my eyes on them. They took turns holding her, but I still couldn’t let her out of my sight. I stood in the entryway, trying to decide what to do. I needed to do something, but what? Drive around Austin looking for a dark sedan?

As I wandered the house aimlessly, I heard the two agents discussing the situation quietly with each other.

“She’s been gone a long time without a phone call. Any luck with the APB?”

“No. It’s only been a couple of hours. Austin’s a big city. There are too many places he could be hiding to expect results this quickly. If he stops somewhere for gas, someone will spot him.”

“You would think it would be easier to find a guy that abducted a woman with a baby. Especially one that looks like her.”

“That’s if he’s still traveling with them and didn’t dump them somewhere.”

My mind instantly produced images I wished I could unthink. I almost jumped out of my skin when a hand came down on my shoulder. Turning, I saw Graham standing behind me in the open doorway. I hadn’t even heard him come in.

“Joe...” he trailed off and I saw a portion of my own agony reflected in his face. I disintegrated at the familiarity of his expression, remembering it from the day Jess and Jack had died. I fell into his embrace and choked sobs ripped their way out of my body. He hurried me away from everyone and out the front door. Whether it was to spare me some embarrassment or to keep me from upsetting the baby I still don’t know.

I sat in silence as he spoke to me of faith and prayer for some time. He tried to comfort me, but there was nothing he could do or say to take the blade out of my chest. To ease his mind, I said what I needed to...what was expected. I was a pro at lying about my pain. Graham’s expression accused me of being full of shit, but he nodded as if he understood. When he left me alone to get me some water, I covered my soggy eyes with the palms of my hands. Someone gripped my shoulder and slid down to sit beside me. At first, I just assumed it was Graham. Then I looked over into the anguished face of my father.

Tears streamed down his cheeks. He took me into his arms and held me in a way he hadn’t since I was a child. I welcomed his embrace, far too defeated and hopeless to fight against him. In that moment, I just wanted my dad.

When my tears subsided, I felt empty and exhausted. He handed me a handkerchief and wiped his own face with a second one. Once he’d pulled himself together, he put a hand on my shoulder and held my eyes with his.

“Joseph. I want to help, if you’ll let me.” His manner held no trace of condescension or guile. It was simply the tone of a parent trying to reach an obstinate child. He was asking me to let him in.

“If he does anything to them so help me...I can’t lose them, Dad. I’m not strong enough.” Waving me to silence, my dad fought back tears for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice sounded thick.

“We’ll find them, son. There are things we can do that the police cannot.” He stood and hit a button on his phone. “Stay here in case this lunatic calls. I need to get some of my people on this.”

He wandered down the steps and I could hear him speaking into the phone again, but couldn’t make out his words. Feeling directionless, I checked on Eva and found her sleeping in Betty’s arms. Tamryn rose as if to come over to me and I gave her a pleading look and waved her back. I was on the razor’s edge of breaking down. I just needed some time by myself.

The agents were still working in the dining room, so I went into the kitchen. The coffee Robin had brewed for the police was long cold so I poured a cup and went to put it in the microwave. When I opened the door, I saw Molly’s forgotten mug sitting inside. I froze, staring at it as if it were a dangerous animal that might attack at the slightest provocation. Then I pulled it out and looked inside. It held water, as if she’d been heating it for a cup of tea.

She’d done the same thing a million times, but this time the sight of her black tattoo-covered cup knocked the wind from my lungs. The weight of her and Logan’s absence crashed down on top of me and I sank to the floor as my legs failed me. The cup toppled out of my hands and shattered on the floor.

Staring at the ceramic shards on the tile around me, I ran my hands through my hair and tried to inhale breath into my empty lungs.

Molly.

Where the hell are you, baby girl?

I BLINKED SLOWLY. My eyelids felt as if they weighed a thousand pounds. Sunlight hit my face and I winced, shading my eyes against the sudden assault. The entire right side of my face throbbed, and I felt pain shoot through my lips as my movements caused my lip to split open again. My tongue felt too big for my mouth, and I suddenly remembered that I’d bitten it hard the night before.

That’s when I remembered exactly where I was and how I got there, and I choked back a wail.

It took far too much energy to sit up, but I managed anyway. I was still on the floor by the thick wooden door. My throat was killing me, and I realized it was from screaming myself horse the night before. My hands were bruised and bloody from beating on the walls and door for what seemed like hours.

It was probably for the best that I’d finally passed out. I needed to conserve my energy.

No one could hear me.

No one was around for miles.

I listened at the door and heard nothing. This actually was a relief, because the night before Logan had been crying his little heart out and no amount of screaming, swearing, or pleading on my part could convince Draven to bring him to me. I hoped the silence meant that Logan had finally exhausted himself as well.

I wouldn’t consider any alternatives.

Pulling myself to standing, I tried to ignore the stiffness throughout my entire body. I shuffled slowly to the single bed which was made with tight military style corners.

Signature Draven.

Some things never change.

Still, after a night on the cold hard wooden floor the bed called to me with its soft welcoming comfort.

I reached down to pull back the blanket and climbed underneath the covers. I grimaced as I settled into it, rolling onto my side. I quickly flipped onto my back when I felt sharp pain shoot through my injured face. The bed frame creaked loudly and I frowned. I hoped Draven was still sleeping soundly and wouldn’t hear. Staring fixedly at the large crack running the entire length of the ceiling, I tried to think. I didn’t make a lot of progress; I hurt far too much and my lack of sleep twisted my thoughts.

I couldn’t get over his audacity.

He’d been waiting for us.

He’d been in our house.

I forced myself to review the events of the previous evening as if analyzing a puzzle, because that was exactly what it was.

Puzzling.

Draven’s actions made no sense to me, and I knew him better than anyone.

Robin hadn’t stayed long. She helped me carry Logan’s car seat and diaper bag into the house and politely asked about our honeymoon. As I hit the broad strokes of our trip, she fidgeted anxiously.

“What’s going on?” I shuffled my giant baby from one hip to the other. He stuffed his fist in his mouth, and I fastened him into his seat so that I could give him a snack.

“I have a job interview tomorrow.” She grinned, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her look so genuinely happy.

“Robin!” I hugged her and she giggled in a very un-Robin like way.

“I’m so nervous.” She drawled, tucking her hair behind her ears. “It’s for a cardiologist’s office. I’d be his primary nurse. It’s a pay cut, but it would be Monday through Friday and I’d be off for all of the holidays.”

“Oh, honey! I’m so excited for you!” I grinned. “Go! Go home and get some sleep.”

“Yeah, I have to help get the kids to bed. Sorry to run off...I want to hear all about it this weekend when you open all those gifts.” She headed toward the door.

“Sounds good. Bye!” I waved. “And call me right away after. I want to know how it goes.”

“I will.” I heard her say through the closing door.

I zipped back into the kitchen, planning to puree some fruit for the twins. Logan was jabbering and the sound was delightful. As I replied seriously to all of his babbling, I could tell by his bright blue eyes that we’d be up late.

I poured some water into my mug and put it in the microwave to make some tea, knowing I would need the caffeine if I was going to keep up with him. I pressed the power button and moved back to the sink. I chopped some organic banana and sat the knife aside so I could set the hunks in front of him.

“Such a hungry boy!” I exclaimed as he pinched two banana bits in his hand and stuffed them awkwardly in his mouth. He seemed to be having a good time trying to feed himself, so I turned and tossed a colander into the sink. I stole glances at him as I went about my business. When I heard the familiar sound of the creaking door swing open, I thought nothing of it.

“You forget something, baby?” I called, scrubbing the pears aggressively. When I didn’t get an answer, I glanced up at the windows over the sink and I spied the reflection of a tall hooded figure moving into the room. Every hair on my body immediately stood on end. For a moment, I froze. The figure advanced in my direction, and the gait was all too familiar. I inhaled loudly as he pulled off the hood and flipped his long hair out of his face like he always did. He was right behind me, and I could feel his breath on the back of my neck.

“Hey, Doll.”

I spun around but he closed the gap immediately, pressing me against the counter with his body. His cool, detached gaze swept my face and hair for a full ten seconds as he towered over me. I should have kicked and clawed at him, but I was too surprised to move. I never thought I’d lay eyes on Draven again, let alone up close like that.

His hair was a bit longer than usual, and his features more angular. He looked bigger, as if he’d been lifting a lot. His boyish face had taken on a rough quality and he had a tiny scar on his cheekbone that he’d never had before. Prison life had been hard on him, by the looks of things. I wasn’t surprised. He liked to talk a lot of shit and he was too pretty to have had an easy go of it.

“Maybe I should call you ‘baby girl’. You seem to like that better.” His playful tone spelled trouble, and I trembled as a soft smile tugged at his full lips. “What’s wrong, Molly? Cat got your tongue?”

Flabbergasted, I explored his eyes cautiously as if his motives were encased behind the foggy glass. I struggled with what to say next when he simplified the situation by turning away from me and meandering over toward the knife on the counter. He ran the tips of his second and third fingers over it, as if checking the handle for dust. Then he swiftly palmed it. My heart, which was already beating thunderously, doubled its tempo.

Logan, who was ignoring us, struggled to pick up another piece of banana. Draven stuffed his empty hand in his pocket and took a couple of steps toward him.

“Which one is this?” He asked casually, as if we were discussing flavors of ice-cream or models of cars. My mind lurched, as I flailed to understand what he wanted to know.

“What?” I finally managed. All I could think was how easily my chef’s knife passed through the banana. How meticulous I was about sharpening them. The thought made me want to wretch.

“Is this the boy or the girl?” He replied, and the way he said it reminded me of how he talked to me when I didn’t understand something about his business deals or some terminology he used about finance. It was as if I was a three year old, or mentally challenged. Normally, I’d have told him to piss off for talking down to me like that, but there was nothing normal about any of this.

I opened my mouth and paused. “He’s my son.”

He crouched down to survey Logan, who looked up at him and grinned happily as he triumphantly stuffed banana into his mouth. My knife was nowhere to be seen, but I assumed he still held it in his right hand. “He looks like you.”

He sounded ambivalent. I swallowed hard, my mouth feeling like I was back in the desert in Mexico. “So they say.”

“You don’t mind if I take him, do you?” He asked, his voice retaining it’s smooth as scotch timbre. “You know, since you made it your personal crusade to have mine taken from me.”

“Drae...” I started, slowly moving closer to them. My purse was two feet away from Logan and my pepper spray was on my keychain. I put my hand on my purse, ready to plunge the other inside. If he thought he was laying a finger on Logan, he was sadly mistaken. “I’m not the reason you don’t have Marco you—”

Draven had hurt me several times before, mostly with his mind games. He’d cheated, then accused me of the same. He’d shoved me, and shaken me. He’d nearly drown me once in the bathtub in some fit of unexplained anger... but he’d never struck me. So when the back of his hand connected with the right side of my face, I wasn’t expecting it. I wasn’t ready.

My head exploded with agonizing pain and I’m pretty sure I bit my tongue. I cried out and knocked my purse over. My key ring fell to the floor with a clatter. The apples in the bag next to the purse scattered all over the kitchen floor. Dazed, I realized I was on the ground and somewhere nearby Logan started to cry. It took my eyes a while to focus. I heard Logan settle down, and when I finally could see straight again, my nightmare stood before me. Draven was holding Logan in his arms.

“Don’t you ever talk to me about Marco.” He whispered. His glare was merciless, and I saw my knife was now on Logan’s tray. Draven had put it down to pick him up.

I reached up to touch my face which felt numb, as if it had fallen asleep. My gums hurt, and when I pulled my hand back from my face there was blood on my fingers. The room swam for a second in my vision and I fought against a rising tide of darkness that threatened to pull me under. Reaching up, I grabbed ahold of the nearby counter and somehow got myself upright.

The entire time Draven just stood there watching, a mildly amused expression on his face. When I had myself back on my feet with my back supported against the counter, his face twisted into an angry sneer. He raised his fist, and I knew when he hit me this time I wouldn’t get back up.

“I’m sorry.” I hated myself for doing it. Bile rose up in my throat but I couldn’t think of anything else to do. I looked down at the ground and cringed back. Whenever he’d lashed out at me, he’d always told me that I should have shown him the proper respect. So I took my shot at saving my life and my baby’s. I groveled, and in my peripheral vision I saw his hand drop to his side.

“About what?” His voice was light and playful and the tone was the same one he used when we were first together and he wanted to tease me. Keeping my eyes on the floor I took a shuddering breath.

“I never should have given her the letter.” Daring to glance up at him I saw a look of confusion on his face. I scrambled to say what I thought he’d want to hear. Remembering his weaknesses, I took a stab at appealing to his vanity. “I was jealous that you chose her over me. You had a baby with her, and it should have been me. I was hurt, but that was no excuse. What I did was unforgivable.”

His features seemed to wage a war...the oddest combination of rage and... hope fought for control. Tears suddenly stood in his eyes, but for a moment it seemed like his anger would still win out. Then a single tear slid down his cheek.

“I didn’t choose her. She was a mistake. That’s what I came to Austin to tell you in the first place, Doll.”

My stomach did cartwheels and not because of Draven’s revisionist history. I might have a shot at defusing this situation if I played my cards right. If I could keep him talking until Joe got home...

“Why don’t you put the baby down? He’s hungry. I’ll mix you a drink and we can talk about it.” For a second he seemed to think about it and then anger flashed in his eyes again.

“No. I can’t trust you. You’re just trying to take the boy away from me. Not happening. Finders’ keepers. After all, it’s only fair. An eye for an eye.”

He backed away toward the door, but he watched me, waiting for me to make my next move. It had become perfectly clear during our conversation that Draven had lost a few of his marbles. Maybe someone had beat him down in prison and destroyed the already damaged part of his brain where good decisions were made. I knew one thing with utter certainty. Draven taking my son out of this house wasn’t something I could bear. The thought of him hurting Logan to get revenge on me was unthinkable.

“Wait.” My voice sounded genuine, which wasn’t surprising since I felt like I was begging for Logan’s life. “Take me with you.”

Turning back to me, he stared at me for what felt like an eternity. I was desperate, and I wasn’t sure what I would do if he said no. I didn’t want to risk hurting Logan, but I was prepared to attack Draven to get my child back. When I’d begun to despair that he would turn away, he gave a curt nod.

“All right.” He said, and his lips gave an imitation of a smile. I turned to grab my purse and his sharp command stopped me in my tracks. “No! No purse, no phone.”

I saw by the dark expression he wore that he was serious. Afraid that any sudden movements might cause him to bolt, I moved slowly toward him and nodded.

“Okay, Drae. Can I bring the baby’s diaper bag?” Anger marred his face again and I pleaded with my eyes. His expression melted away to a condescending smile. The transformation was absolutely terrifying, and I fought to keep my face from showing that inside I was screaming.

“Of course. We wouldn’t want the little tyke to suffer. None of this is his fault, is it?”

I shook my head and carefully picked up the diaper bag, putting the strap over my shoulder. I reached for the can of formula sitting next to it. I held it out to show him, wordlessly asking if I could bring it, and he nodded.

“Lead the way.” He instructed motioning to the front door.

Wiping my face on my sleeve, I made my way to the street. I glanced toward Penny’s house in hopes that she’d be on her front porch and I could somehow signal her that I was in trouble. Naturally, she was nowhere to be found. When I reached the sidewalk, I paused. If I screamed, God knows what he’d do to Logan. If we got into the car with him...

“You’re not backing out on me, are ya?” He hissed. He was directly behind me.

“I have to get his car seat.” I replied, over my shoulder.

“No.” There was no debating that command, but it didn’t stop me from trying anyway.

“Drae, it’s not safe.” I pleaded, turning to face him. I wanted to look at Logan, but I forced myself not to.

“Sure it is.” For a moment Drae looked and sounded normal, like he had when we first met. He pressed the keys into my hand. “You’re driving, Molly. I’ll hold the baby. Just be careful.”

I was shaking so badly as I pulled away from the curb that I was sure I would wreck the car. I hoped that at any moment Joe’s truck would appear. Instead, I drove slowly out of our neighborhood and into the mouth of hell.

Draven directed me to a secondary highway as soon as we got to a major thoroughfare. Soon we were out of town, and with each new turn the area became more rural and remote. First suburbs, then countryside, then remote countryside. We went miles and miles without seeing another car.

I spared a glance at Logan, who sat on Draven’s lap facing him He reached up and grabbed a chubby fistful of Draven’s hair and my heart leapt into my throat. Draven actually chuckled and gently removed Logan’s hand from the lock of hair.

“No no, little man.” He scolded calmly. Logan blinked up at him with innocent eyes and I felt like I might cry. I choked it back, remembering all the times Joe asked me not to get involved with Elaine’s custody battle with Draven.

Joe would never forgive me for this...not after Jack.

A shadowy blackness seeped into my heart. I had to get Logan back to Joe. I deserved whatever wrath Draven rained down on me for being idiotic, but my innocent baby had to be protected at all costs.

By the time he had me turn off onto a dirt lane, it had been ten minutes since I had seen another vehicle. Draven handed me a key and had me get out and open a chained lock on a pole fence gate. Once we were through, he ordered me to relock it and get back behind the wheel. The dirt road was little more than two ruts worn in among the rocks. It took several minutes of driving past trees and shrub to reach our destination.

As we cleared the trees, a ramshackle two story wooden house came into view. Several outbuildings were sprinkled about the property, looming in the darkness like corpses of a bygone era. The homestead looked like it had been built at the beginning of the last century. The roof sagged in a few places and there was a general air of decay about the place. The one exception was the front door which looked like it belonged on an industrial building. I pressed on the brake and put the car in park. Draven reached over and plucked the keys from the ignition. Opening his door, he took Logan and headed up on to the questionable porch. I half expected it to collapse on them both.

Faced with no viable choice, I followed along after him.

As we approached the door, I could see my initial impression was correct. The door was, in fact, heavy steel. It lacked a knob, instead housing a square panel with numbers. Draven pushed a few buttons rapidly and I heard the lock click open. Stepping forward, he disappeared into the darkness inside.

Faced with the open doorway, I felt true terror blooming inside of me. Up to this point, I’d dared to hope. Hope that a police officer would stop us. That someone I knew would see us and get help. That Joe would come rushing in to save the day. None of that was going to happen now. Instead, I was about to do something I never thought I would do again. I was choosing to place myself into the clutches Draven Cirone.

My feet felt like lead as I started though the doorway. Then the thought of Draven alone with Logan lent me strength and I hurried inside. I heard Logan’s cry from above me and clawed my way up the staircase. I saw Draven come out of a room empty handed. Pulling it shut behind him I heard an ominous click.

“Draven! Where’s Logan?” The smile that he gave me was both lecherous and evil in a way that made me tremble.

“I put him to bed, Doll. He’s sleeping like an angel. You don’t want to wake him up do you?”

I opened my mouth to say something more and his fingers came up and forcefully tapped my mouth. Lowering my eyes, I shook my head.

“Good girl. Now why don’t we go to the bedroom and you can show me exactly how much you have missed me?” He reached out and stroked my cheek and I couldn’t stop myself. I shied back and shuddered in revulsion.

His eyes flashed and his fist caught me in the wounded side of my face once more. I slammed back into the wall and everything went gray. As consciousness failed, I heard Logan wailing.

When I came to sometime later, I was locked inside a room. I was lying on the bed I was in now, so he must have put me there. I heard my baby crying somewhere close by and I lost it. I screamed for Logan and begged Draven to let me out. Pounding against the door was fruitless; all I got out of it was bloody, bruised fists. I continued to beg for what seemed like hours, but I must have passed out at some point.

I felt tears sting my eyes when I thought about Logan. I wondered if Draven had fed him, or if he’d cried himself to the point of exhaustion. I wondered if he’d changed him, and I worried he’d have a terrible rash. Then my thoughts wandered in an ugly direction and I worried that his silence meant Draven had taken him from me forever. I covered my mouth before the sob escaped me. I tried to tell myself it wasn’t true, but now that my imagination had opened that door, there was no way to stop the series of images that rushed out.

I heard the sound of buttons being pressed and my door opened. Had I not made so many mistakes the night before, I’d have been able to rush him and perhaps get away. Instead, I curled up in the fetal position, covered my battered face, and waited for the next beating to begin.

I heard a clatter on the bedside table and felt a dip on the bed next to me. I tensed, but all I felt was a gentle hand running down my back.

“Molly.” He sounded like normal Draven and I exhaled. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath. “Sit up and let me look at your face.”

I did as I was told, aching as I pushed myself up and sat on the edge of the bed. There was dried blood and snot on both of my sleeves and the sheets, and knowing how obsessive he was about cleanliness, I wondered if he’d beat me for that too.

Draven sank onto his knees in front of me and audibly groaned when he saw my face. A sincere look of disappointment came over him. He reached over and picked up a washcloth from a steaming bowl of water and began to dab at my face delicately.

“Why do you have to make everything so difficult?” He asked, and the tenderness in his voice troubled me more than a slap would have. “Do you think I like to hurt you?”

Yes, Draven. As a matter of fact I do.

As he proceeded to clean me up, his sympathetic eyes were completely demoralizing. Rage simmered within me, and I wanted to claw those forlorn eyes right out of their sockets.

Once satisfied with his progress on my battered right side, he dunked the pink rag into the warm water and tilted my face in the other direction.

“God, you’re beautiful.” He murmured, pulling the warmth away from my face and running his thumb across the intact portion of my bottom lip. “I forgot how unbelievably gorgeous you are.”

I looked into his eyes. I knew my face was expressionless, because I felt utterly detached. He cupped my cheek and seemed to survey my face. Then he put the rag back into the bowl of water with a resounding plop.

He pushed himself between my legs so that he could wrap his arms around my waist. His forehead was pressed against mine and when he exhaled his minty breath hit me full in the face. I momentarily considered sinking my teeth into his nose as hard as I could, but figured I’d hear him out first. I knew from experience he was gearing up to wax poetic, and whatever bullshit he was about to spew was bound to be golden. Besides, the door had locked behind him when he came in. I had no idea if I would be able to break out of the room, but I doubted it was likely.

“I had a lot of time to think while I was caged up like a rabid dog. I had plenty of time to plan. When I thought I had a shot at seeing my kid, it was about being respectable. I was going to rebuild my reputation and focus on him...maybe patch things up with his mother. But she was still bitter that I’d come to see you in Austin after I’d married her. Our...misunderstanding made it impossible for her to believe I was over you. She said I was still in love with you. Elaine was always jealous of you, Doll. I never would have left you for her. She knew it, I knew it. If you hadn’t found out about her, you and I would still be together. Between you and me, I’m pretty sure she planted those panties in my car. I know I’m not that careless.”

He sat back a bit, gripping my face in his hands. My cheek throbbed, but I barely noticed. The adrenaline coursing through my veins made me almost impervious to the pain. The only thing keeping me from hate stomping him into the hardwood floor was the fact that I didn’t know where Logan was. I thought of my baby’s innocent blue eyes looking up into Draven’s cold reptilian ones, and that image empowered me to keep myself in check.

“I didn’t believe you’d really leave me. Certainly not over someone as meaningless as Elaine. I figured you’d run off to Dan’s and cool down and be back after a month or so. Then we’d get things back to the way they were. Then the divorce papers arrived and just like that you were gone. Elaine was pregnant-another thing I think she planned-and I was so busy trying to keep the restaurant from tanking and worrying about how to explain the Elaine situation to my family that I lost track of what I should have been focusing on. You.

Then Elaine started in about getting a different house. She said we needed a yard for Marco, but I think she couldn’t stand the thought that you and I had lived there together. While I was listing our house, I started hearing chatter about your food truck and knew you’d succeed. I realized you were moving on...starting a new life without me. It was unthinkable.

So I came to see you. I had no choice. I missed you too much. I couldn’t even look at Elaine much less touch her. My fucking family had pressured me into marrying her and you...you wouldn’t even talk to me. So I lost it. I can see that now. I understand why you were scared. But it’s because I loved you too fucking much to let you just walk away.”

He brushed my hair out of my face and kissed my forehead as if we’d had a tiny lover’s quarrel and he was trying to make up. Then he pressed on.

“When your letter was read aloud at the hearing, I wanted nothing more than to wrap my hands around that pretty throat of yours and squeeze the life out of you. At that point I’d given up on you. I told myself you were just an ungrateful hick that I’d crafted into a lady. And to repay me you’d betrayed me in the basest of ways.

First, by taking that Neanderthal into your bed when you still belonged to me. Then, by writing that damn letter, which was the final nail in my coffin. With that letter, Elaine’s lawyer was able to paint me as a horrible monster. Some foul creature that should never be allowed to see his son again. Sure, my council told me he could eventually get the decision reversed. But by then I knew it would be too late. Elaine is a manipulative little cow and she’d poison Marco against me. He would never want to know me and the person I blamed for that was you. So I decided I would show you what that kind of pain felt like.

It took a lot of planning. I had a parole officer and I had to slip away from Johnny Law. Turns out the police really aren’t that hard to fool. But I’d learned my lesson. I studied surveillance, learned the best ways to avoid being recorded. Fool me once and all that.” He gave a wan smile at the mention of Francis’ recording of his tirade that landed him in prison. As he spoke, he dabbed what felt like peroxide on my lip, followed by some ointment. He’d invested in a first aid kit before his psychotic attack, which showed a level of forethought that was just so very Draven.

“When everything was in place I started watching you. Learning your habits. Tracking your movements. There were a few close calls, like the laser tag incident, but that was so worth it. Watching you in your quaint little house with your perfect little nuclear family, I understood the best way to make you suffer.”

He leaned down and forced me to meet his eyes. “Your children. It was so simple, really. I don’t know why I didn’t see it immediately. Marco being taken from me was the worst pain I’d ever felt. And the rage you inspired in me was almost too much to contain. One day you looked so contented that I almost ran you and your stroller down in the road. I would never have gotten away with that, of course...so I changed my mind.”

The memory of the dark car nearly mowing us down came to my mind as he spoke. I recalled that day with perfect clarity. At the time, I’d chalked it up to bad Texan drivers. Just when I thought this freak show couldn’t get any worse, he’d pulled another rabbit out of his hat of horrors.

“But I’m so glad I didn’t. Do you know why?” He asked, running his hand up and down my back as if he was giving me a pep talk. I didn’t bother to respond. He was orating, and one never interrupted Mr. Cirone when he was on a roll. This was never meant to be a dialogue. “Because I know deep down you still love me. That day I saw you crossing the street with the stroller it wasn’t just the fear of being caught that stopped me. I saw you that day and I remembered. How much I loved you back before things got twisted. Before we got married and you started treating me like the enemy. I remembered the phenomenal sex and the way you used to laugh at my jokes. Because I watched you living that with him. And it broke me to see you smile like that at someone else.”

He seemed pensive for a moment, and I wondered if he was finally going to shut up and kill me already.

“I’ve been so torn. Last night, I finally understood why you left me. You really believed I chose Elaine over you. A meaningless distraction like Elaine. An amusement like her should never have come between us. And she wouldn’t have if you hadn’t overreacted. She listened to me when you wouldn’t anymore. She seemed to understand me when you didn’t. I see now that it was all part of her plan to try and trap me. But once she had me, the fickle bitch showed her true colors.

What really pains me is that I thought you understood me better. I assumed you got it, so I failed to communicate how important you are to me. Last night, I decided that we are going to have our second chance. I still can’t trust you yet, not until you earn it. You have done far too much to hurt me since we’ve been apart and I would be foolish to open my heart back up to you.

But, if you can show me that you truly want to be with me, that we are starting off with a clean slate...if you can show me how much you really love me then everything will be fine. We’ll be fine, our son will be fine. If not...”

He trailed off, as if he didn’t want to discuss the unpleasantness of having to kill me and toss me in a ditch somewhere when I was inevitably unable to wipe the memory of his atrocities from my mind. It didn’t matter. He had my attention. I clung to his comment about “our son”, and sighed with relief.

“So tell me, Doll. Are you willing to try again?”

I looked into the face of this cowardly, broken boy I had once loved and realized what a colossal fuck up I really was. I’d done all the wrong things for all the right reasons, and I was partially to blame for the events that had unfolded. We’d both messed up from the get go, and we should have annulled things in Vegas that very same night it happened. So many people had been caught up in the tornado that was “us”, and now my son was swept up in it too.

Logan.

I had to keep him safe. No matter what it cost me. I would do whatever it took to get my baby back to his father and away from this damaged psychopath even if it killed me. But Draven had gravely underestimated me. I wasn’t the scared little girl that he had terrorized in that far away city. And I wasn’t the unsure woman who had hidden behind Joe’s door from his wrath.

No.

I was a mother now. There was nothing that I wouldn’t do to keep my baby safe. And the moment an opportunity presented itself, Draven Cirone was going to learn how mistaken he’d been to ever threaten my child.

Letting none of my inner turmoil show on my face I looked him in the eye, and my stare never wavered.

“Yes, Drae. I’ll try.”

He looked as if he was about to burst into happy tears. He tilted my head back and kissed me softly on the acceptable, unsullied side of my mouth.

MY HEART THUNDERED in my chest as I raced across the dewy grass. I pushed my legs as fast as they would go, but my dress shoes kept slipping out from under me. I’d already fallen twice, and a piercing pain in my side was getting harder and harder to ignore.

It was early morning and foggy as hell. I was dodging trees at Pecan Grove, and I could hear Molly laughing. But every time I got close to the sound, I couldn’t find her. Finally, I made it to the creek and caught sight of her. She was standing on the edge of the rocky bank. Unlike me, she wasn’t dressed in her wedding clothes. Instead, she wore the white sundress she’d been wearing on her birthday so long ago...the first night she’d let me take her home.

I knew right then I was dreaming...but I didn’t care. She looked over her shoulder at me and her sweet smile owned my heart instantly.

“Come on, baby.” She playfully called. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

And then she dove in.

Knowing how shallow that creek was, I shouted her name and bolted to the spot she’d just been standing on. I looked over the side, sure I’d see her broken body sprawled on the rocks below. Instead, I saw her wading in the creek with Logan in her arms. Her white dress clung to her shapely body, and her ivory back was to me. She hummed one of her lullabies and stroked his dark hair. Logan caught sight of me and his chubby cheeks split in his adorable, toothless grin.

Movement caught my eye and I turned to my right. Jessica stood beside me, dressed all in yellow. Her golden hair fell around her, reminding me why I’d called her Sunshine. She regarded me with sympathetic eyes, and put a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“It’s not your fault.” She murmured.

I woke with a start and scrambled off of the couch as if it were on fire. Completely disoriented, I blinked at my living room as if I’d never seen it before. Granny Hildebrandt sat in a nearby chair. She paused in her knitting to watch me warily.

“You alright?” She drawled.

No. Not in the slightest.

I rubbed my eyes and took several deep breaths in an attempt to steady myself and oxygenate my muddled mind. It was incomprehensible that I’d fallen asleep as my world was collapsing. Not that I should have been surprised. I’d been awake for over thirty six hours, and my body had finally rebelled and shut down.

After the police first showed up, I’d wandered from room to room, waiting for some new clue to jump out at me. In truth, I needed to keep moving. I wanted nothing more than to tear off and go searching for Molly. Mac had done just that. He’d rallied his biker buddies and they all tore off across the countryside looking for Draven.

The cops had been crawling all over our place at first. After taking my statement they had confirmed that Draven had been out on parole for over six months. Their people had gone through the house with a fine tooth comb. I pointed out a crushed cigarette in the bathroom sink, and the cops had bagged it as evidence and said they would test it for DNA. Great for a hypothetical trial, but it struck me as a waste of time. We already knew who had them.

I had spent most of the time just trying to keep my temper. Cops kept asking me the same asinine questions over and over again as if I would suddenly have some revelation. They needed to act instead of wasting precious time while my wife and child were in the clutches of a madman. I knew it was standard for them to question the spouse, but it was more about covering their ass than doing their jobs. When I told the last one to get out of my face and go find my wife they finally left me alone.

Tamryn ran interference for me, relieved at intervals by mom and Robin. When Molly’s ringtone started up, everyone in the room exchanged frantic glances and I hurried to retrieve it from the table. I picked it up and saw on the screen that it was Dan calling. I felt as if the energy was sapped from me and hit ignore. It began to ring again almost immediately, and when I saw it was him redialing, I handed the phone to Robin.

“I can’t do this right now.” I stated, and she hurried out the back door as she answered his call.

My chest hurt. I wonder absently if I was having a heart attack, or if it was finally just irreparably broken. The sickening similarity of Molly and Logan’s abduction and the threat of losing Jess and Jack ate at me. I wouldn’t lose them. I couldn’t. I had to do something.

Unfortunately, I hadn’t a clue what the hell I could do besides trust the police. So I waited. I paced. I watched the unfolding speculation disguised as reporting on the local news.

When I started to have trouble keeping my eyes open, Tamryn appeared and asked for Eva. I’d been holding her as much as possible. I’d noticed Eva had taken to crying jags and sucking her thumb. Having never seen her do either before, I wondered if this new behavior had begun during our honeymoon. Maybe Molly had been right after all. Maybe they were too little to be away from us.

Or maybe Eva sensed something...like Mac and Mason, maybe she had some connection with Logan that was beyond my understanding. I shook my head to clear it. Thoughts like that would drive me crazy.

Tamryn surveyed my face in her usual strategic yet sympathetic manner. “JoJo...go lay down and take a nap. I’ll get Eva some solid food.”

I shook my head. “I can’t.”

I knew I’d smell Molly scent all over the pillows and I’d never sleep. If I somehow managed to drift off, I’d have nightmares. I was clinging to the last scraps of my sanity and sleeping would be counterproductive. There was no way I could rest in our bed without her.

Tamryn seemed to read my thoughts which was no surprise. She’d ridden shotgun the last time we’d been down this road. “Just go lie on the couch for a few minutes. I’ve got Eva.”

She put her hand on my shoulder, her eyes begging me not to argue. I hated seeing her so stressed. Deja vu permeated the kitchen and I didn’t think I could stand another well-meaning cliché from anyone, so I nodded. In my delirium, I bumped into the doorframe on my way out to the couch. I reclined back, telling myself I was just going to rest my aching eyes.

Now I’d awoken having dreamed about them anyway. It was dark outside. I had no idea what day it was, or if it was morning or evening. I bolted past Granny into Eva’s room and gaped at the sight of Stacy rocking her in the glider.

Molly’s glider.

My thoughts were already scattered and the foreign sight of Stacy in Molly’s spot further jarred me out of alignment. I hadn’t seen her since the wedding, yet here she was in Eva’s room. Eva was clutching Logan’s favorite bear. I remembered Logan tossing it on the floor multiple times before kicking me in the head the night before the wedding. The clarity of the memory slayed me.

Stacy had come into my fucking house and was holding my kid. I’d slept right through her walking through the front door. Some father I was.

“When did you get here?” I blurted.

Instinctually, I crossed to Eva and lifted her out of Stacy’s grasp. Eva startled, and let out several staccato breaths as she settled back against my chest. I saw my hand shaking when I reached for her, and realized how vulnerable the two of us were. No matter what the outcome, I had to keep it together for my baby girl. I no longer had the option of breaking down.

Stacy burst into tears. “I’m sorry, Joe. We tried to stay out of the way but I needed to come. I had to hold Eva. I just had to. I’m sorry. I’ll get Sanchez and we’ll go.”

I stood slack jawed, holding my sleeping daughter and watching one of my wife’s closest friends totally break down. I had no words of comfort for her. What was there for me to say?

It was the first time in the midst of this torment that I really understood that those around me were suffering too. I’d apathetically watched Mac break down and punch a dent into his truck the day before. It was after the first day of his biker search turned up nothing. Mason managed to stop him from hurting his hand or further damaging his truck, but I was too wrapped up in my own pain for any of the drama to seem relevant.

Granny hadn’t left the house. She claimed to have stayed for Eva, but I think she just wanted to be close to Molly and being at our house was the next best thing. She changed and rocked Eva when needed, but she spent most of her time in the kitchen arranging and rearranging the pantry and freezer as the casseroles kept rolling in.

Stacy explained that Tamryn had only left long enough to make arrangements for the girls and pack a bag. I knew this was coming. I was pretty sure I couldn’t get rid of her if I tried.

Seeing Stacy break down crystalized what I needed to do in my mind. When I’d lost Jessica and Jack, I couldn’t save them. I wasn’t going to let that happen with Molly. I would get her back. I would get them both back. And the first step in doing that was taking the help that was right in front of me.

I handed Eva back to her, and though Stacy seemed startled at first she quickly cuddled my little girl into her embrace. Starting to glide slowly back and forth again she gave me a reassuring look. I gave a short nod and glanced out the window. The security detail was still out front. When I looked out the back window, I saw Sanchez and Mac, who were both puffing on cigarettes. In all the time that I had known him, I had never seen Sanchez smoke.

Taking a deep breath, I walked out to the kitchen to get some coffee. As I picked up the pot, I heard my father’s voice echo in from the makeshift center of operations at our dining room table. He sounded upset.

“Mr. Jensen...” I heard one of the agents reply in a conciliatory tone.

“Cut the bullshit and give it to me straight.” My father snapped. There was a long pause, and I picked up my mug and took a long sip of piping hot coffee.

“It’s been forty-eight hours.” The other agent offered, and his no-nonsense tone set my teeth on edge. “No phone call. No luck on the APB. No lead. The odds of finding either one of them alive just dropped by 50%.”

“You have a lead.” Dad’s voice was glacial.

“I meant an actionable lead, sir.” The snark in the agent’s voice made my jaw tense.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? We know who took them.” I’d never heard my father drop the f bomb, so when he did, I nearly spilled coffee on myself.

“There’s been no demand for ransom, and the neighbor said the girl willingly left with him. She claims Mrs. Jensen was the one driving the car.”

“Frank...” The other agent seemed to be trying to shut Mr. No-Nonsense up.

“We can’t even really prove she was abducted.” Frank finished, and fuming, I sat down my coffee mug with a shaky hand.

“You could if you’d do your goddam jobs. You expect anyone to believe she went willingly? With a man who went to prison for stalking her? On the night she returned from her honeymoon.” My father spoke my thoughts through gritted teeth as if he was telepathic.

There was a pause and the ‘good cop’ responded. “We have to entertain all theories.”

“There were signs of a struggle all over the kitchen, you little prick. Her pepper spray, the fact that her phone and purse were left behind. What about the blood spatter in the kitchen?” My father could be intimidating when he was angry, and at that moment he sounded livid. “That girl you’re talking about is one hell of a mother. She would never have taken that baby anywhere without his car seat willingly. She certainly wouldn’t have abandoned her daughter.”

A heavy silence settled in the other room and then Frank responded.

“There are the things I know and the things I can prove. To be clear, sir, we are still looking. You asked for me to get down to brass tacks and that is what I am doing. If she went willingly, this is one hell of a mess. If she didn’t go willingly, then we may never find her.”

“I understand.” My dad’s voice could have frozen a lake solid. “What I am saying, and you better listen to this pretty God damn carefully, is that you’d best put every resource you have into finding my daughter-in-law and my grandchild. If it comes down to expense, I will foot the bill. So take my word for it that she did not leave of her own free will. Is that clear?”

“Crystal, sir.” Frank said. I heard footsteps and my father entered the kitchen. Seeing me he blanched and glanced nervously over his shoulder.

“Son...I didn’t realize that you were in here. Did you...” I nodded.

“I heard. And I agree that if we keep doing what we’re doing now the odds of finding them are very slim. I’m not ready to accept defeat. Have you had any luck on the...other options you mentioned?”

He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the Feds were out of earshot. Motioning to me, he led me to the far side of the room by the sink.

“I have a team assembled nearby. They’re using every option available to search for her and the boy. I figured it was best to keep you here working with the authorities.”

“No.” He looked up in surprise at the steel in my voice. “This is not going to happen without me. Give me an hour to get things settled here and we can head over.”

“All right, son.” He nodded. “Whatever you think is best.”

It was the only time in my life that my dad had ever acquiesced to my will. Had the situation not been so dire I would have been shocked. Leaving him in the kitchen, I went outside to talk to Mac.

“Mac.”

“Joe!” He practically jumped to his feet, brushing off the back of his jeans. “Any word?”

I shook my head. “No, nothing yet. I need a favor.”

Mac’s eyebrows shot up. “Name it.”

“I need you to stay here and keep an eye on the house.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You aren’t planning on doing something stupid are you?”

I gave him a solemn nod. “Yes, I am. But not in the way you think. My dad has some private contractors working on this. People that aren’t as restricted by the law.”

Mac looked like he had expected almost anything else to come out of my mouth.

“Black ops crap?” I nodded and he looked impressed. “I mean, I knew your old man was in the thick of things but I didn’t expect Deep Throat/Watergate—”

“We don’t have a lot of time.” I interrupted. “Can you do it?”

Pulling me into a quick embrace, Mac clapped me hard on the back.

“You don’t even need to ask. I got this. You bring my little sister home.” I had just started back inside when he stopped me. “And Joe? When you find that son of a bitch...give me a call. We can take care of this as a family.”

The intensely inclusive way he said it left me emotional. I thought of the little blonde baby inside the house and steeled myself. Nodding to him, I went inside to find Stacy. I found her in the living room with Tamryn and a new arrival.

Dr. Greene.

The two of them jumped to their feet like naughty teenagers who’d been caught making out. It was pretty obvious that they had been talking about me.

“Joe” Tamryn began. “I called Dr. Greene. I hope you don’t mind. I thought the two of you could talk.”

I shook the doc’s hand eagerly. I was glad to see him.

“Hey, Doc.”

“I just heard, Joe. Would you like to go into the other room and talk?”

“No.” I replied, neutrally. Tamryn’s face sank into deep lines of disappointment while the doc simply nodded and shrugged.

“Well, I’m here for a while. Or if you feel like talking later you can call me. I would be happy to stop back by.” I nodded at him and turned to Tamryn.

“I need you to watch Eva.” Shock warred with concern on her face as she searched my eyes for some explanation for this request.

“Why? Are you going to get some sleep?”

“No. Dad has something in the works.” Lowering my voice I glanced at the doorway leading to the dining room and motioned for her to move away with me. Dr. Greene tagged along but I figure hell, doctor patient confidentiality. “He has some of his people trying to find Molly. I’m going to find her, but I need to know that you’re here with Eva. I have to know that she’s safe.”

Tears welled in Tamryn’s eyes and she grabbed me by both arms.

“You think he can find them?” She thought about what she had just said and nodded. “What the hell am I saying? Of course he can. Just...promise me that you will be careful, Jojo.”

“I will.” It was all lies, but what else could I say? She was my sister, but I was going to war. I would have cut my own hand off to have them home safe. This barbaric bastard had once tried to drown my wife for wanting to soak in a bubble bath after a long day at work. He was psychotic and I was going to do whatever it took to stop him from hurting my family. No matter the cost. But if I went down, he was going with me.

Dr. Greene waited for Tamryn to leave the room in search of Eva and then stepped up next to me.

“Joe...”

“What?” I snapped the word out and he recoiled at the anger in my voice.

“Well, that makes me feel better. At least I know you’re exercising control over your emotions. I was afraid you might be completely suppressing them.”

“No, doc. I feel like shit. Deeply. Strike that. Shit has a complete leg up on how I feel right now. But there is no way in hell I’m going to sit around and wait for someone to find Molly for me. And with all due respect, I don’t have time to analyze any of this. You can either get the fuck out of my way or you can try to stop me. Which is it going to be?”

To his credit the doc didn’t shrink back from me one bit as my voice dropped to a dangerous growl. Instead, he raised a mollifying hand toward me.

“Neither, Joe. I’d like to come along.”

THE SMELL OF minced garlic, chopped onions, and tomatoes permeated every corner of the rickety old house. A storm raged outside, and the wind howled eerily. I felt the house shift in response to nature’s fury, and I wondered if the roof would just blow right off.

I gave the sauce a quick stir and moved on to chopping mushrooms. I wished they were poisonous. I’d looked for something to poison him with, but could find nothing that wouldn’t taste strange.

I could feel Draven’s watchful eyes on me, and I wracked my brain to remember what day it was. I’d tried to mark on my bedside table with my fingernail each morning, but since my head had ricocheted off the wall, my brain had been a little fuzzy. I wasn’t positive how long I’d been in this little hell house, but I thought it had been four or five days. That meant it was now November.

This certainly explained the cold snap and all the rain. Draven hadn’t been prepared for it at all. Not being a Texan, he didn’t realize it actually got cold down here. He had flimsy little blankets on the beds that looked beautiful but served no true purpose. After spending a bitter night rolled up like a tamale and worrying that my baby might die of exposure, I offered to give Draven a back rub. He’d always been a sucker for that kind of doting, and I needed to butter him up so I could sweet-talk him into getting some necessities for Logan.

When Draven first took me into Logan’s room, I was shocked to see him lying on top of a sleeping bag on the floor. Though I hated to give Draven ammunition by showing weakness, I started to cry. This was immediately after Draven patched up my face, and I didn’t want to do anything to rock the boat, especially with Logan in the room. The night before, when I was too horse to scream and Logan had quit crying, I’d heard rodents scurrying in the walls. My mind raced with all manner of concerns. I was terrified he was going to get bit by something or contract a disease.

Draven responded by handing me a lukewarm bottle and leaving me locked in Logan’s room with him. I immediately stripped him down and checked him over. No bites, no diaper rash, and he only seemed mildly interested in his bottle. I was astonished. Draven had obviously fed and changed him the night before. Logan didn’t have a mark on him and he cuddled happily against my breast. I was so relieved, I burst into happy tears and spent all afternoon loving on him. My tension somewhat relieved, I didn’t trouble myself with scheming or planning an escape. I cuddled Logan against me on the sleeping bag and had just fallen back to sleep when Draven came back into the room.

“Come cook me dinner.” He offered me his hand, his expression all business. I gently settled Logan back onto the sleeping bag, and braced myself for whatever was coming. He took my hand and led me to the lower level of the house.

Though he didn’t have a decent blanket in the house and had my infant son sleeping on the floor, Draven had stocked the ancient kitchen with all of his favorite things. I had no trouble pulling together a meal he’d like. He made a big production as he savored it. He poured his compliments on me like honey. I’d heard it all before and knew the pendulum would soon swing back in the opposite direction.

As my reward for a job well done, he allowed me to eat with him and even brought Logan down from his bleak prison so that I could try to feed him something solid. Draven laughed at Logan’s reaction to most of the vegetables I gave him. I didn’t know what to think. When Logan grimaced, pulled a mushroom from his mouth, and flung it on the floor Draven cackled and even stated unabashedly “He’s cute.”

He came into the room with me as I tucked Logan in. I did my best to wrap him in the sleeping bag and hoped he wouldn’t get tangled up and suffocate. I silently debated if it was the right thing to do, but I figured it was better than leaving him uncovered all together.

I stared down at his peaceful face, and gave him a quick kiss. Draven hovered behind me, and suddenly wrapped his arms around me as if we were having a family moment.

“He’s the spitting image of you.” He whispered, his tone loving and calm. He reached down and trailed his finger down Logan’s nose, stopping in the small indentation just above his lips.

“Do you know what my father used to say?” He asked, pressing his lips against my hair. I felt like a cornered animal, and I wasn’t sure how to respond. I shook my head. Draven almost never talked about his father, but when he did, it was with admiration.

“He said that the reason we have this...” He ran his finger over the space between Logan’s tiny nose and his pouty upper lip “Is because just before we’re born, the angels press a finger right here and say ‘shhhhh’. That’s when we forget all the secrets of heaven and all the answers to the mysteries that plague us our whole lives.”

I looked up at him, surprised by this confession. Draven’s family took their Catholicism seriously, though they clearly never put any of the teachings into practice. He took my eye contact as an invitation, and kissed me as if I were fragile glass.

I knew by the way he kept invading my personal space that he wanted sex. Luckily, I’d started my period that same morning he’d patched me up, due to my carefully planned wedding. I’d considered my cycle when picking the wedding date. Though I hadn’t originally planned for the honeymoon, I did not want to be in need of tampons on my wedding night. Thankfully, I still had some pads in an inner pocket of Logan’s bag from when the twins were newborns. I’d put one on as soon a Draven left me alone with Logan. I knew Draven wouldn’t rape me now, at least not for a few days. He’s always been way too OCD to want sex from a bleeding woman.

He unlocked my door and came into my room with me. Before I could utter a single word, he pushed me onto the bed. He pounced on top of me, grinding his hips aggressively into mine. I was half on/half off the single bed, my head and shoulders were bent at an awkward angle. It was very uncomfortable. The bed squeaked loudly, and I was sure it would collapse.

“Drae...” I started, but his mouth was on my neck sucking so hard it hurt.

“God, you smell good.” His mouth was on my nipple, and his rested his head against my chest. “And your heart...it’s beating so fast. You missed this too, didn’t you Doll?”

My heart was racing alright, but due to a combination of pain and fear. I was afraid of what he’d do when I dropped the bomb on him. He was fumbling to unbutton his pants. I finally dug deep for the courage and blurted the words out.

“I’m bleeding.”

He froze, surveying me sardonically. “Bullshit.”

To my surprise, he reached down between my legs. I thought he was just feeling for the pad, but his fingers slipped right past it and inside my panties. He stroked his fingers against the cluster of nerves, and then slid them in and out of me several times. My eyes widened and my brow furrowed. I felt more shocked than violated. My Draven would have never done this. He was repulsed by the idea of menstruation, and barely touched me when he knew I was having it. I couldn’t pull my eyes from his. The look in them was maniacal as he brought his reddened finger up between our faces for us both to see.

“Well, what do you know? You are capable of telling the truth.” He smiled with smug satisfaction, as if I’d passed some test to which only he had the answer key. He instantly climbed off of me and left the room, most likely to wash his hands fifty three times.

I released a loud, relieved exhale at his exit, but it was a long time before my heart rate returned to normal. For the first time in my life I thanked Eve for sampling that apple. The lady curse had just bought me a few more days before I’d have to cross that awful bridge. I figured it bought me time to think, however he returned a short time later and informed me he wanted to lie with me for a while.

This particular incident was one of the most disturbing times I’d ever experienced with Draven...even more than when he’d hit me. His intense gaze and his wandering hands were hard to bear, but I managed not to cringe away. My lip was still too messed up for him to kiss me on the mouth or for him to expect me to use it for other things, thank God. This didn’t stop him from sucking painfully on my nipple and the following morning I discovered he’d bruised it.

He was bright enough not to sleep in my room, which showed some healthy level of paranoia on his part. He didn’t want to fall asleep near me. He had excellent instincts in that regard. It was fine by me though; the feeling was mutual.

So the following afternoon after lunch, I gave him his back rub, which turned into a full body massage. Halfway through, he rolled over and pulled my hand between his legs, making it clear he wanted me to rub something else. I’m ashamed to admit that I did what he wanted without hesitating. It was that or have my baby sleep blanket-less for another frigid night. I hoped with all my heart that Joe wouldn’t fault me for that decision. At the time, it really didn’t feel like a decision at all.

It didn’t take long to satisfy Draven. He’d always gotten his rocks off by being in control, and I’d never been more powerless. Afterward, I felt dirty... wretched. My self-loathing only compounded when he pulled me down to lie beside him, wrapping his arm around me as if what we’d just done was somehow consensual.

“You’re amazing.” He said as he lit a cigarette. I decided to take the opportunity to state my case. Draven was never more reasonable than after he came. He smoked and listened silently while I explained my concerns about Logan’s sleeping arrangement. When I made the suggestion that Logan sleep with me, Draven immediately said no.

He exhaled a long stream of smoke and when he spoke again, there wasn’t even a trace of bitterness in his voice. “You haven’t earned that yet, Doll.”

He smashed out his cigarette.

“Come on. We’re both covered in oil.” He led me to the bathroom and stripped off my soiled, bloody clothing. He made me shower with him, and he took his time soaping every inch of my body. I wanted to fight him, but he outweighed me by a hundred pounds. I had no choice but to let him, and it was a whole new level of degradation.

When he washed my hair, I winced as his fingers massaged the spot where my head had connected with the wall.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked, his voice a soft caress. It was a serious question, as if he didn’t remember the incident. I shook my head, but I felt as if someone had walked over my grave.

The scent of the shampoo was familiar, a floral type I used to use when we first started seeing one another. He’d remembered, and that might have been touching in another place and time. While I understood the sentiment...the need to set the scene...to recapture the moment...it was wildly out of place there and then. I’d done something similar with my wedding reception, which now seemed like decades ago. Every taste, sight, and sound was meant to culminate in the perfect new beginning, dressed up in the trappings of the past...reminders of how we’d come to be there.

Drae had taken this same concept and skewed it, twisting it into a haunting exhumation of our tumultuous pairing. However, instead of feeling like a new beginning, his spectacle had all the reverence of a memorial service.

After meticulously brushing my hair, he dressed me in one of his shirts and a pair of boxers and brought Logan and his diaper bag into my room. He locked us in together after informing me that he was going into town on a quest for supplies.

That was when my plotting began. I allowed myself a small breakdown first. I sobbed with revulsion at myself and my humiliating weakness. Then I thought about Joe, and wept harder. He was the love of my life and I’d cheated on him, albeit only with my hand. We’d been married for less than two weeks and another man had already violated me. I loathed myself for getting into this situation in the first place, but I loathed Draven a whole lot more.

I cried for a while with the ferocity of a petulant brat throwing a temper tantrum. After I was all cried out, I just wanted to close my eyes and fantasize that Joe would show up on his big white horse and carry us off into the sunset like he had in my girlhood fantasies. My ego just wouldn’t allow it. My baby boy stared up at me, no doubt wondering why water was streaming from my eyes. My heart broke all over again, and I stroked his silky cheek. I realized I hadn’t seen his sister in nearly nine days, and I ached to hold her. Oddly, I was glad it had been Logan that was with me. I sensed that Logan’s saving grace was how much he resembled me. Eva...she looked so much like Joe, Draven would have been way worse to her.

Anger flared in me and made me grit my teeth. I wouldn’t let anything stop me from getting back to her, including silly pipe dreams. Joe couldn’t possibly know that Draven had us. He had his hands full with Eva and he wouldn’t have the faintest idea where to look.

No one was coming for us.

It was up to me to save myself.

I wiped my tears away and paced the floor with Logan, constructing a list of necessities for my escape plan.

First, I needed a weapon. Something that would incapacitate him quickly. I needed to take Drae down when I was either with Logan or both of our doors were open. That would probably be the trickiest part, because the thought of Logan being near the fray made me want to vomit. I’d have to be careful and concise. Lastly, I needed the car keys. We were out in the sticks, and I had no idea how far it was to the closest town.

It wasn’t a very long list. I could do this.

In the meantime, I just had to keep Draven fed, keep him happy, keep him from hurting Logan, and bide my time.

When Draven unlocked the door sometime later, I practically sprang off the bed with Logan. I remembered how pissed he used to get when I stayed in bed after he was up and it was an automatic response. My face flushed hot, and I was ashamed that he’d already conditioned me to snap to. Thankfully, he was too excited to notice my reaction at all. He rushed in with his hands full of plastic bags.

“Blankets.” He said, dropping the bags on the floor and reaching inside to pull out three down comforters.

I smiled, mostly because I knew one of them was for Logan, and though I couldn’t protect him from my other concerns, at least he wouldn’t freeze to death. The smile must have pleased Draven, because he lit up like the sky on Chinese New Year. It was a predictable reaction. He’d always gotten off on splashing money around, and it seemed time and prison hadn’t changed that about him.

“There’s more.” He announced and promptly left the room. The door was standing open just a sliver. I debated on following him out of the room while he was distracted, but I had Logan in my arms and I wasn’t sure what I’d use as a weapon.

Moments later I was glad I hadn’t, because he popped his head back in the room. “Come see.”

His hand was on the small of my back as we entered Logan’s room. Right in the center he’d set up a brand new Pack and Play for Logan to sleep in.

“Do you like it?” He asked, sounding incredibly childlike. I covered my mouth and burst into tears. For the first time since he’d walked into my kitchen, I was completely honest with him.

“Drae. I love it.”

Later, when Logan was down for the night, Draven appeared in my doorway. His hands were behind his back. A feeling of dread came over me, but I mustered up a smile. It was weak, but he seemed satisfied by it.

“I’ve got something else for you...since you’ve been such a good girl.” His blue eyes sparkled with mischief by the dim light of my lamp.

“You didn’t have to do that.” My voice sounded husky, but only I knew it was because my heart was in my throat. I had no idea where he was going with this, but I knew it was nowhere good.

He pulled a box out from behind his back. It was black with a familiar logo on it. Victoria’s Secret. I reached out to take it from his outstretched hand on reflex. Just before my hand closed on it he pulled it back, an irritated expression appearing on his face.

“Take them off first.” He demanded.

I stared at him blankly and then looked down at his shirt and boxers. I made to take off the shirt and it seemed to enrage him. “The wedding ring and engagement ring. Take them off.”

I should have said yes. Logic dictated that I should have done it without hesitation. I had been ready to strip for him just moments before. But the rings were different. They still symbolized that there was more to life than this rat maze Draven held me captive in. The clearest image of Joe’s mossy green eyes came abruptly to the forefront of my mind. His hands cupping my face, the way he felt inside me, his mouth on mine, his infectious smile when he held the twins.

My hesitation...that fraction of a second that I stopped to think about it, sent Draven over the edge. My vision exploded into a million colors and agonizing pain radiated from my temple. I cried out, and tried to blink to clear my vision. When I could finally see again, I was no longer on the bed. I was lying on the floor with Draven standing over me.

“You stupid little quim. Are you trying to play me? Is this some sort of fucking game to you?” He didn’t shout. He didn’t raise his voice. He sounded clipped and articulate.

The way he loomed above me was terrifying and I shielded my face on instinct. It did no good. He slapped me again, and caught me on the same side. Only this time was far worse. I blinked but I couldn’t see out of my right eye, and I wondered if he’d permanently damaged it.

Wheeling, he walked to the far side of the room and opened the door. He paused, and I was sure he was coming back for more. Clawing myself upright, I pressed my back against the wall for support. If this was it, if this was where I would die, I wasn’t going down without a fight.

Looking over at me he sneered and flipped the door shut. It clicked with an ominous finality.

“Do you know what this is?” He waved his hand in front of it like he was a model on a game show. “This is a Franklin Mayers lock system. Impervious to weapon fire short of a very large handgun. If I gave you a sledgehammer, you could beat on this for days and never break it.

Each lock has its own unique code. I originally installed them for my protection. If anyone got into the house I could escape into any room and they wouldn’t be able to follow me. Now? These locks are for you. They’ll keep you in your place. You think you can fool me? Think again, bitch. By the time I’m done, you’ll be begging me to fuck you. My every need will be your greatest desire. But not until you know your place.”

The way he said it turned my blood to ice. I opened my mouth to speak and he waved his hand at me dismissively.

“I’m done listening to your lies, cunt. What’s next? That you really do love me? You want to fall on your knees and please me? Save your fucking breath. How could I ever have believed a lying little whore like you?”

“Drae...please...”

He turned his back on me and clicked open the door. Then he walked out. Pivoting on his heel he stood and mocked me from right outside.

“Fuck you, Molly. You almost had me going with all of your fawning and bullshit. Well played, Doll.”

“Draven,” I tried to be firm, hoping to get some control back.

“Shut your mouth.” The dangerous edge his voice took snapped my teeth together just as if he had smacked it shut. “Let me lay this out in a way that even your half-wit mind will understand. The boy stays locked up at night. The only time you get to see him is before we eat. If you disobey me in any way...if I get so much as an upset stomach from your cooking...it will be the boy that suffers. Test me and I will lock you both in your rooms and leave you to die of thirst.”

He clicked the door shut and I slid down the wall until my behind was on the floor. The adrenaline that had been keeping me upright slipped away and I collapsed. My uninjured face lay against the cold hardwood planks just inches from a large metal vent grate. Twisted stabs of agony settled into a dull throb as I struggled to pull breath in as sobs racked my body. The shadow in my vision scared the hell out of me. Something was really wrong this time.

I heard voices echoing up through the grate and sucked in a gasp. I felt my lip tremble, and opened my mouth to cry out for help but something made me hesitate. The other voice sounded familiar but the pain was making it hard for me to focus on identifying it. Using all my remaining strength, I scooted myself closer to the grate and listened carefully.

“I can’t believe it.” Draven whined. “She refused to take his rings off.”

“If you recall, I said you should have just killed her. You should have snapped her neck and left the carved up baby as a present for that fucking new husband of hers.”

The second voice was cold and clinical. Sudden, horrifying clarity came over me. I slapped my hand over my mouth, afraid my labored breathing would draw his attention to me. I silently rejoiced that I hadn’t screamed for help from whoever had produced that voice. Because it was Draven. Both of the voices were coming from the same man.

“He’s not her husband. I am. I love her, goddammit.” Draven sniveled, authentic anguish in his voice.

“She loves him.” The other said derisively. “That is, if she’s capable of love at all.”

“But I want her.” Draven sounded petulant. Like a toddler being told that the toy he wanted was too expensive.

“Then have her. Stop being a pussy and just take her. Then get rid of her so we can catch our plane and close on the beach house. We’ll hire a cook and a maid. Maybe we’ll acquire a half dozen peasant girls who like shiny things. With all that to keep you occupied, you won’t need her anymore. You’ll forget all about her in no time.”

“I don’t want to rape her.” Petulant Draven sounded incensed. “I want her to want to be with me.”

An exasperated sigh carried up through the vent.

“Oh for fuck’s sake. This is just ridiculous. All of my planning, crafting the timetable, setting up the shell companies and the new identity will be wasted if you keep thinking with your dick. Our flight is in three days. You have until then to amuse yourself with her. If she doesn’t bend to your will before then, indulge your carnal desires by force. Then we leave and burn the house down. By the time they sift through the ashes, we will be in a non-extradition country.”

My heart hammered in my chest at the casual way the monster below me discussed burning me and my child alive. I glanced up at the window and my mind stalled as I raced to formulate a contingency plan. Even if I somehow managed to get to Logan there was almost no chance of us being able to get to the ground safely. Not with the house burning around us. Below, the volume of the voices lowered in discussion and I focused to hear what they were saying.

“Or...I suppose we could take her onto the jet. It’s a private charter. If we keep her separated from the boy, it should encourage her to behave.” Cold Draven suggested. He seemed to be bored by the conversation.

“I like that idea. I’ll get her trained before then. But I might need your help.” Petulant Draven said.

“Fine,” Cold Draven replied. “If we groom her, she could be an enjoyable servant. But if she isn’t moldable, we take care of it my way. No arguments. Agreed?”

“Alright.” Petulant Draven said. “But the boy goes with me regardless. She cost me my child. She owes me a son. Even if Molly’s a dead end, I want him.”

“Seems fair. Then at least this whole clusterfuck won’t be a waste of time.” Cold Draven’s tone was conciliatory. “I’m going to sleep. Keep an eye on her.”

I started shivering uncontrollably and I wracked my addled brain for options. Draven was a ticking psychotic time bomb and I only had three days to find a way to defuse him and save my baby.

Tick tock.

THE SINGLE MOST annoying thing, in my experience, is the look of pity on another person’s face. I know why people do it. When faced with overwhelming pain, people tend to fall back into the familiar. The thing is sympathy makes the person giving it feel better. Half the time the person they are giving it to is too out of it to even notice. The other half of the time they want to punch you in the face.

I thought I was familiar with pain. Foolishly, I thought I had taken the worst life could dish out and survived. Losing a wife and child was brutal. The only thing that was worse than that was facing the possibly that it was all happening again.

The media circus didn’t help matters. Several news vans were parked up and down my street. The authorities made them stay on the sidewalk, but my entire neighborhood was in an uproar. At first, I thought the attention was a good thing; maybe the publicity would drum up a lead. Or maybe the pressure would cattle prod the investigators in the ass.

The public outcry might have been touching if I wasn’t teetering on the precipice of a nervous breakdown. According to Stacy, the food trucks were inundated with customers asking how they could help, and both trucks were having a hard time keeping up with business. Stacy had put a picture of Molly and Logan from the Heartwood event on Wrapgasmic’s web page and social media sites. Several search parties were organized for areas near our house; when I heard that news, I locked myself in the bathroom for a couple of hours.

All of Austin seemed eager to help out. Citizens kept coming into Good Wood to ask Francis about donating money. We finally had to issue a statement asking people to donate to Molly’s favorite charity instead.

“Feeding people is what Molly does. It’s her calling. She believes in paying it forward.” The press release that my mother had crafted read. “We ask that you keep your eyes peeled and your hearts open. If anyone has any leads, please call the number below.”

After 48 hours, the story must have gotten a little too dusty. They paraded out Molly’s picture from the photo spread for the Chronicle way back when Wrapgasmic was featured. She hated that picture, and when David had used it as a mural in his Galveston location it had nearly broken down negotiations. Molly had finally decided to just go along with the photo, which had been reproduced into t-shirts and beer coozies. It made her look like a campy pin up and though it showcased her spunky good looks, in this context it gave off a seedy vibe, casting her in a poor light. Tamryn said that the use of it had a “blame the victim” feel.

Most recently, a local station had somehow gotten their hands on a picture of Molly holding Logan at our wedding. I wondered which one of our so-called friends or family had leaked that to them, but before I could get too excited about it, Tamryn pointed out that it was the most current picture of Logan we had and it might help find him.

All this and no leads. Not even a hint of where she was. That’s when the media turned on me. It shouldn’t have really taken me by surprise. I’d seen enough cop dramas to know the drill.

When Dr. Greene insisted on going along with my father and me, I refused. After a couple of minutes of arguing, I had to usher him to his car. I thanked him for his concern, but told him that he needed to just go home. There was nothing for him to do and I had no desire for him to see whatever activity my father was engaging in. Dad had always operated in the gray areas of the government, and it was one of the reasons I wanted no part of his legacy. Funny how I was willing to shed my principles—as easily as a sweater on a sweltering day—when Molly’s safety was at stake. The doctor left, and as I started to follow my father out of the house, I noticed Mason had arrived. He was standing in the entryway holding Eva, and she reached out her chubby little arms out for me.

“I think someone wants her daddy.” Mason’s even tone was refreshing. He looked more well rested then the rest of us, but I understood that he was distracting himself with his own kids. I knew his togetherness was an act, but I appreciated the performance. It was a relief not to have to take on the load of his grief in addition to my own.

“I’m on my way out.” I replied, but Eva started to cry alligator tears and I was powerless against her woeful expression. I took her from him, but motioned for him to follow me.

“I gotta go, baby girl.” I whispered to her. “Daddy’s going to go find mama.”

She gave a shuddering sigh and burrowed into me. I felt a squeeze to my already aching heart. I knew exactly how she felt.

The moment we stepped out onto the front stoop, cameras flashed everywhere like a lightning storm and people were yelling my name.

“Joe!” A woman yelled. “Any new leads?”

I put a protective hand on Eva’s ear to block her from the assault of noise. My father, who was already in his car, motioned for me to hurry.

Another reporter called. “Can we get a statement, Joe?”

“No comment.” Mason’s voice was authoritative and firm.

“Funny how bad things keep happening to your wives and children.” A man’s voice rang out over the crowd. Outraged, I froze in my tracks and scanned the crowd. I spotted the slimeball by his sneering grin. “Where are they, Joe?”

Mason tore off after him, and the sneer instantly transformed into abject terror as the reporter took off running with his camera guy right on his heels. A policeman climbed out of his car and stepped between Mason and them. Mason bellowed over the cop, who looked very much like he wished he could let him loose. “Get the hell out of here before I stick my boot up your ass!”

I was still reeling from his callous accusations. Eva looked up at me with wide, scared eyes and furiously sucked her thumb.

“Did you hear that?” I asked my dad, who had jumped out of the vehicle when Mason had sprung into action.

“It was only a matter of time before someone went there.” He replied. “Take Eva back inside. We have to go.”

As we drove in the direction of downtown, I wracked my brain for a proper way to express my gratitude to this man who’d become a stranger to me. He deserved my thanks, but I had no framework for how to give it to him. We’d been sparring for so long that I had no idea how to have a normal conversation with the man, let alone a decidedly abnormal one like this one was sure to be.

Ever since I was a kid, I understood that my old man was a powerful guy. In high school, I got glimpses of that power when he made problems disappear. When I was fifteen, I got busted driving drunk and without a license to boot. I know...not my finest hour. The cops had me dead to rights. Then I called my dad. Ten minutes later, the cops drove me home and handed over all the evidence to my father’s assistant.

Looking back, I’m still stunned at how completely he fixed it. In retrospect, it might explain why some of the cops seemed to have it out for me when I was an adult. Irony had snuck in and sucker-punched me. Dad’s power and connections, which were once reasons for so much contempt, might now be my light at the end of the tunnel. I dared to hope he’d be my family’s salvation.

A few blocks down the street from my shop, there was a new high rise under construction. The ground floor looked finished on the outside, but it was all exposed metal beams and hanging construction lights on the inside. That is until you turned left into an interior room with no windows.

Plywood walls divided this space that filled almost half the remaining floor. Solid wooden tables and desk chairs were to the left. The entire wall was filled with giant flat screen monitors. Everything from computer code to video footage was playing across them. A huge conference table was directly ahead and to the right was a giant black metal storage cage.

Dad led me over to the people working at the monitors and introduced me to his staff, three young men, none of which looked old enough to shave. Zip, Crypt and Phantom. Their nicknames were laughable, but their fingers flew across the keyboards in a blur. They talked back and forth in a strange stilted version of English. I didn’t understand half of what they said.

Dad then took me over to the cage and introduced me to a few of his security people. Two of them, Dibbs and Cantel, I remembered from his days in office. The rest had to be good if they were working for my father. The leader of “Alpha Team” (as my father referred to the collection of assembled men) was a salt and pepper haired, heavily-muscled man that introduced himself as Seth, no last name.

Seth unlocked the cage and gave me the nickel tour. It contained a small arsenal. A heavy collection of Glock handguns, a few boxes of grenades that he called ‘Flash bangs’, and beyond those were heavy shotguns, sniper rifles and racks of Kevlar body armor. My eyes traveled the room, scrutinizing the inventory and trying to piece together what it all meant.

I returned to find my father at the conference table with Dibbs and Cantel. Dad waved me to a chair and motioned for Dibbs to continue.

“As I was saying sir, the tech group found footage showing the car moving east out of town. We lose them exiting 30 at the intersection of Hwy 969.” I couldn’t stop myself from interrupting.

“The feds told me that they couldn’t find any traffic cam footage. How the hell did you get that video?” Cantel gave Dad a weighty look and after a slight nod from my father, he turned to me.

“Mr. Jenson, the authorities have restrictions. They lack talent as well as having hardware as old as you are. Our team bypasses the illegalities, and our equipment is top notch. Our people have programs they’ve written that search out the information that we need. The feds can’t touch what we can do.”

“So are you telling me we are at a dead end?” My father’s voice was level and clipped, not a good tone to be on the receiving end of.

“No sir,” Dibbs responded. “The area that they were headed into is sparsely populated. With the travel time we are working with, based on the issuing of the A.P.B., it gives us a much smaller area to search. The techs are adding the new information into their software search. They hope to have something for us soon.”

“Very well. Keep us apprised.” The two men walked away toward the tech group and another man brought over a carafe of coffee and two mugs. A moment later he returned with a plate of baked goods. One whiff and I was fighting back tears. Of course it was from Sweetish Hill; it was the best bakery on this side of town. The intense memories of Molly that a simple apple fitter evoked had me turning away in my seat to hide the welling tears from my father.

His hand came onto my shoulder and he sat silently with me until I got my shit together. Pushing the tray hard enough to send the pastries spinning to the far side of the table I grabbed the carafe. Pouring us cups of coffee gave me time to focus.

This was getting beyond hard. Sitting here...pretending like I wasn’t coming apart at the seams. Holding myself in check when all I wanted to do was tear the world apart to find Molly and Logan. The fact that I could do nothing while they were in that psycho’s hands was tearing my heart out a hunk at a time.

Taking a few deep breaths, I watched the steam rising up from my cup until my heart rate returned to a reasonable level. The entire time dad sat staring at his coffee cup. As uncomfortable as he was with displays of emotion from me, this equated to a herculean effort.

“So what do we do now?” I said it softly, trying to keep the rage and pain I was feeling out of my voice. He started to answer then gave a heavy sigh.

“We wait, son. It’s infuriating, but I have to give them the space they need to do their job. If you want to go check on Eva, I can call you when something comes up.”

I shook my head, and the tension in my jaw made it throb.

“She’s in good hands right now. I need to do something.” The last word came out in a mixture of anger and sorrow. Dad put his arm around me and gave me a quick squeeze. Standing he cleared his throat.

“I’m going to make a few calls.” He walked toward the tech group. Pausing, he turned back to me. “We’ll find her, son.”

I gave him a curt nod and he looked like he wanted to say more. After a moment, he turned away and kept walking.

I lowered my head in my hands. Horrible thoughts were coursing through my brain just barely outside my mind’s eyes. A moment of inactivity and I was afraid they would all come rushing forward. I couldn’t allow that to happen. If I let myself think about what that crazy bastard could be doing...

Jumping out of my chair, I started pacing. I wasn’t going anywhere but I had to do something to keep the thoughts at bay. It was on my third circuit of the room that I noticed a pile of file folders on a far table between the tech area and the conference table.

The names on the folders were obscure. Subject 18. S.O.I. M...something about that folder caught my attention. Flipping the front open, I saw a black and white picture of Molly staring back at me. As I flipped through the pages, I felt my barely contained fury overflowing.

“What the fuck is this?” The bellow made the techs jump and a few of the security guys put their hands instinctively on their guns. My father looked up sharply from his phone and quickly hung up. Moving over to me, he saw the folder I was looking at and his lips pursed.

“It’s background I had collected on your wife back when the two of you started dating. Subject 18 Subject Of Interest Molly.” The matter of fact way that he said it did little to curb my anger.

“And what the hell are you doing running a check on Molly?” My father stood his ground and met my eye.

“Protecting my son.” The fierce way that he said it took the wind out of my sails. “Joe...I knew nothing about this girl. All I knew was that you’d been through hell. If I had done the same thing with Jessica, you might have been spared a lot of heartache.”

Of all the things he could have said to me, nothing was more surprising. I’d assumed he wanted to make sure Molly wasn’t a gold digger. Or a drug addict. Or just an embarrassment to him in some way. Instead? He was looking out for me.

Dropping the file, I gestured to the rest of the folders on the table.

“Anything else I should know about?” He stepped over and pulled three files out of the pile.

“This one is background on your therapist, Dr. Greene. Quite a fellow. Did you know he was Magna Cum Laude? This one is on your employee, Francis. Quite the story there. He should write his autobiography. And this last one is on that boy, Nick.” He shook his head as if Nick was a problem child. It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure that out. When he noticed my disapproving expression, he looked completely unapologetic.

“No real surprises on any of them. Obviously, Molly was clean. She’s an open book or I would have mentioned something to you. Based on our current situation you might want to have a look at her file. There’s a lot of information in there about her time with Draven Cirone.”

My eyebrow lifted and I open the file. I dropped into a chair and started reading. It was sickening to see the details of Molly’s life spelled out in black and white. They’d dug up all manner of public, and in some cases private, records. There were stories she’d told me about, and there were many details she’d never mentioned. A copy of an emergency room visit for her wrist sat next to copies of emails between her and Dan confessing her growing fear of Draven.

I came across several police reports marked as deleted. I got up to ask the techs about that. The three of them exchanged a glance and then snickered.

“Once it’s on the system it is never really deleted, sir,” Crypt told me. “Well in rare occasions the truly paranoid, and the military, actually overwrite the information. But with the right software you can get almost anything.”

The deleted files were from multiple police departments all from the area where Draven grew up. Amongst his infractions were assaults against two high school girlfriends, attacks on total strangers, and two cases of arson he was a suspect in. It was mind boggling how much shit the prick had gotten away with. No wonder he had an over developed sense of entitlement.

When I was done with the police reports, I found some emails between Draven and his brother. His brother told Draven that his divorce was bad for business and an embarrassment to the family. He went on to say that Draven should ‘man up’ and take care of that backwater bitch before it got any worse. Draven had down played the split with Molly and said that she was out of town and no longer an issue. But the wording in his brother’s email was ominous, like he’d been expecting a more permanent solution. Maybe this sort of evil shit ran in the family.

“How the fuck did this bastard get out of prison without us knowing? Shouldn’t we have been notified?” I sounded haughty, and in that instance I was struck at how much I sounded like my father.

“According to the file, they tried to reach your wife, but her number was no longer in service. When he skipped his first parole hearing the records show they tried calling again to advise her.” Zip explained, and I sighed dragging a hand through my hair. Molly had already changed her number after Draven used her old one to stalk her. Then Elaine started calling about the custody battle and I’d pushed her to do it again.

“Basically, it was the typical lack of follow through you can expect from a civil servant. There’s a reason people say ‘close enough for government work’.” Crypt interjected. Zip snorted and paused long enough in his assault on the keyboard to fist bump Crypt. I glared at them both for their flippant attitude.

“You think any of this is funny? This is my fucking wife we’re talking about here.” I snapped, and they paused in their typing with fading smiles. My father put his arm around me and led me away.

“They’re idiot savants,” he soothed me. “Their total lack of social skills is part of the reason they’re the best at what they do.”

My anger drained away, taking most of my energy with it. What was left of my resolve was crumbling and I wanted to fall to pieces. I tried hard to get back into the files, but my head was killing me and I needed to see Eva.

I told Dad I was leaving and he had one of his men give me a ride home. Walking in the door, I saw Mac sitting on the couch. He was watching the news, but switched it off the minute he noticed me. I knew what he’d been up to...heck, I’d been guilty of it myself. I’d spent several hours over the last few days watching the constant news coverage, but seeing the looping slideshow of Molly and Logan’s photographs became more than I could stomach.

Mac looked like complete and utter shit. We simply nodded at one another without a word. I was about to leave the room when he spoke in a hoarse voice.

“A package came yesterday.”

“Where is it?” I asked, thinking maybe it was some sort of ‘fuck you’ taunt from Draven.

“Right there. Leaning against the wall.” He replied. I picked up the large slender square and looked at the address that had shipped it.

San Jose del Cabo, Mexico.

I knew immediately that it was Molly’s painting.

I sat it down without opening it. For a full minute, I fought back a tidal wave of nausea. I choked it back and went to Eva’s room.

Tamryn was asleep in the corner rocker when I came in. Eva was asleep in the crib sucking her thumb. Placing my hand gently on her belly, I simply watched her sleep. Her free hand came up and wrapped around my thumb. I stood there for almost an hour, unable to take my eyes off of her. I would have stayed longer, but the pain of standing in one place for so long became too much to take.

I took a hot shower and tried to get some sleep. It was pointless; every time my eyes closed, horrors swam up out of my mind. I rolled onto Molly’s side of the bed and pulled her pillow to my face. I breathed in the scent of oranges that still lingered on it. The familiar scent was overwhelming and I was glad I had the pillow over my face so that no one could hear me break down.

When I wandered out into the living room around 1 a.m., Mac was changing the locks. I opened my mouth, but stopped and waved to him. He nodded, his cigarette gripped between his teeth. I turned, grabbed the painting, and went back into our bedroom. I ripped it open and the sight of the colorful dessert scene stung like rubbing alcohol in an open gash. I pulled down the picture that hung on Molly’s side of the bed and put her painting in its place.

Once again, I climbed into bed. If Dad did find them, I’d be useless without some kind of rest. As I drifted off surrounded by the scent of her shampoo, I focused tiredly on the picture.

“I hung it where you wanted it, Molly.” I croaked. “Now please come home.”

I must have passed out for a few short hours, but by the time light peeked up over the horizon, I had gone in search of coffee. Eva woke up so I fed and changed her. She seemed glad to see me, though the complex look on her tiny face made me wonder if she knew something was wrong. I tried to put her down for some tummy time, but she protested. I tried the swing, but she didn’t want to be put down. So I kept her close and she cuddled up with me on the couch until Tamryn came in from the kitchen with a cup of coffee. Then she reached out for her Aunt.

“You going back out with Dad today?” Tamryn’s bloodshot eyes and wild hair made her look far older than she was. I was sure I looked like shit, too.

“Yeah. I was just about to head that way. Tamz...thanks for—.” She nodded and put her hand on top of mine.

“Go do what you need to do, JoJo.”

I jumped in my truck and drove down to Dad’s HQ. When I walked in, the techs were all huddled around one computer jabbering excitedly. Dad was standing next to them and waved me over.

“Okay, play the sequence again,” he said to Zip.

The hacker clicked a few buttons and the main screen started showing video. The first video clip was only a few seconds. It showed Molly driving and Draven in the passenger seat holding Logan in his arms. Then there were traffic cameras, side views, long views, short views. Some camera shots were blurry and others were intensely crisp. Zip gave a running commentary as the images unspooled.

“Okay, we start off with the traffic camera at the intersection near the house. This next camera is a red light camera three streets over. Then we have a weather camera on the interstate. Here they exit the interstate and we have footage from an ATM, then a security camera from a grocery store, next a home security camera. The last camera is near the outskirts of Webberville. They are on a road heading roughly north. Based on the time limits we are working under and the cameras on all available roads beyond this point they will be somewhere in a two to four mile radius.”

“That is still of a hell of a lot of countryside to search,” my father said gruffly.

“Yes, it is sir,” Phantom piped up. “And that is making the assumption that they didn’t switch vehicles. Luckily, we have some additional data. This morning we managed to break through a few foreign firewalls. My Trojan program gave us what we needed. According to the files, we have three shell companies that have been used to buy property in this area.”

“Any tied to Cirone,” my father asked.

“Not as yet, sir,” Zip said. He had returned to his keyboard and was typing furiously. “The shell companies are leading to other companies but I have to back track a bit. Whoever set these up did an impressive job. If Phantom’s program hadn’t punched a hole in the bank’s security, we would have hit a dead end. Now, I’m running the raw data though a cypher program. The bank uses a unique code system to further protect their customers. It will take me some time.”

“Good work. I’m going to go talk options with Alpha team. Let me know when you have something more.”

He walked away but I couldn’t take my eyes off the video of Molly on the screen. Part of me worried that it might be the last time I would see her alive. I wanted to smash the monitor, to break everything in the room...everyone in the room. Turning on my heel, I walked back toward the door and stood by myself. I felt like I was going to lose my grip soon. I was honestly surprised I had managed to hold it together this long.

A hand tapped my shoulder and I whirled ready to rip someone a new ass. The wary face of Dr. Greene was standing a noticeable few feet away. He had tapped me and stepped back. Fault the doc on some things, but he was no fool.

“Hey, Joe.”

“Doc...what are you doing here?” The tone set his eyebrows skyward. It was a bit harsh but I was clinging tenaciously to my calm and surprises were not helpful.

“I told you I wanted to help and you told me to go home. I respect your feelings on that. But your father contacted me and asked if the offer was still open. He said he had need of my expertise.”

I glared across the room at my father. It was typical bullshit for him to do something invasive like taking liberties with my psychologist. Striding over to him with Dr. Greene in my wake, I leaned on the conference table, which gave a noticeable creak. The air of menace I had hanging around me set the other security men on edge. Only Seth and my father seemed at ease.

“Do you want to explain to me why you called Dr. Greene here?” I growled the words out with barely contained rage.

“Absolutely. Doctor, thank you for coming. I have some files I needed you to look over.” Grabbing two big red binders off the table he slid them in front of the doc and motioned him to sit.

Dr. Greene sat and opened the first folder, a look of curiosity on his face. A moment later he looked up in abject horror.

“Where did you get these?” My father gestured at the techs on the other side of the room. “You hacked them? I can’t look at these! It’s unethical.” Dr. Greene looked like he was turning...well...green.

“Doctor, the ethics of this situation are a bit murky. Those files contain valuable insight into a very disturbed individual.” My dad paused, letting those words sink in. “The life of a wonderful young woman and a baby boy hang in the balance. Are those lives less important than one patient’s confidentiality?”

Dr. Greene looked back and forth between my father and I. Looking down at the folder he shook his head.

“I’ll do it. What are you hoping to find?”

“Anything that will help us find him doctor. And when we do find him we need to know how to deal with him.” I turned and stalked to the far side of the room, fighting to keep my anger from boiling over. I had nowhere appropriate to direct it, and I was afraid I’d offend someone who was trying to help me.

It was all just too fucking much. The footage of that motherfucker holding my son would haunt my dreams. And Molly...I’d never seen her look so stricken. The one thing that kept ringing through my head over and over was what the FBI agent had said about the first 48 hours and their chances.

Three hours later, I was watching the footage of Molly again. Zip had cleaned it up for me. Her face looked wounded, and I was fantasizing about what I’d do to Draven if he’d injured her in any way. I was getting pretty Guantanamo Bay in my head when Dr. Greene gave a hysterical high pitched laugh.

“Do you all know how illegal it is for me to have this file?” He whipped off his glasses and shook his head.

My father walked over and sat next to him.

“What can you tell us doctor?” Dad asked, his tone all business.

Dr. Greene gestured to pages he had spread out on the table in front of him.

“Well, Draven Cirone is one messed up individual: Narcissistic tendencies, self- esteem issues stemming from abuse from his mother and siblings after his father died. Youngest child syndrome combined with what sounds like a personality disorder. It’s obvious from the notes of his sessions that he was attempting recovery before he met Molly and he was devastated by her loss. He seemed ambivalent about his second divorce; however, losing his son took him down a dangerous path. His obsession to get his child back, no matter the cost, left him on fragile mental ground.”

“Poor fucking baby,” I growled. The doc ignored me and went on.

“There are files here from three different doctors. One when he was young, another when he was in college and the prison appointed doctor. From his notes, I doubt the last doctor even read the patient file. He probably was more than happy to let Mr. Cirone tell him what he needed to hear to clear him. When you see the entire picture, it’s chilling: severe Narcissistic Personality Disorder, massive abandonment issues, propensity to violence, highly intelligent but very unstable. If I had been treating him, I would have recommended that he be institutionalized for a long, long time.”

“So how do we deal with him when we find him?” This question came from Seth, who had come up as the doctor was talking.

“In his current state of mind? He’s capable of anything. He should be treated as very, very dangerous.”

“Fast and quick then.” Seth nodded. “If we can, take him out. We will take a sniper shot with a clear back range for the bullet. Otherwise, close combat and subduing.”

The no nonsense way he said it should have been comforting. Instead, it made me want to take his head off. My heart was pounding in my ears and I was close to my breaking point. Walking away was my only option. I tried to calm down but nothing I did was helping. I felt like I was going to jump out of my skin. I needed to take action...I needed to find Molly.

The computer screen next to me beeped and a list of names appeared. The program they had been running to decrypt the bank information had completed. On the screen were seven names. The third down the list caught my eye.

Dashul Shields.

One of the stories Molly had told me about Draven came screaming out of the back of my mind. It was a conversation we’d had the first time we went out for dinner somewhere that required a reservation.

“Name?” The hostess asked. I’d been admiring Molly’s dress and how it exposed her bare shoulders. She’d elbowed me, and nodded to the hostess.

“Oh. Sorry. Jensen. And we’d like to sit outside if you have a spot.”

Molly giggled. Since my name didn’t strike me as unusually funny, I asked her what she was laughing about.

“I just love that you’re so down to earth, Joe.” She’d looked a little shy, and busied herself with her purse.

“Okay...” More confused than ever, I turned my attention full on her captivating wide-set eyes. “What brought that to mind?”

“You’re not showy. You don’t try to be impressive, you just are.” Her eyes lingered on mine, but she clammed up when the hostess came back to seat us. Once seated at our table, she went on. “My ex used to make a production about everything. Especially when we went out. One time, he punched a valet in the nose. Just for taking my hand to help me out of the car.”

“Really?” I crinkled my forehead in disbelief. Violence and I weren’t exactly strangers, but even to me that seemed a bit over the top.

“He was such an ass,” Her beautiful voice replayed in my head like a favorite tune committed to memory. “Dan and I used to laugh about how pompous he was. He refused to make reservations under his own name. He thought he was that big of a deal on the Seattle culinary scene. All because someone recognized me once and sent a bottle of wine over to our table, compliments of the house. Draven seemed proud of me at first, but after that he always used an alias. Like people were going to hound us as if we were celebrities and we’d have no privacy.”

“Wow.” I remember thinking at the time that Molly deserved the recognition. I’d had a hard to imagining her with someone besides me, and I had yet to meet Draven, or hear about his abusive ways from Robin.

“It was ludicrous. Like anyone cared. If you’re not on a cooking show, no one gives a crap. It’s not exactly a glamorous life. But Draven always had his own little version of reality.” I remember the way her eyes clouded over after that remark, and her face transformed to one of intense distaste.

“Even his alias was douchey.” She seemed to force a smile, as if she was trying to lighten the mood. “Dashul Shields. It sounded like a villain from a James Bond film.”

The world seemed to stop turning, and I felt a surge of energy radiate through me. We’d found him. The arrogant ass just couldn’t help himself. I was doubt free. Who the hell would name their kid Dashul?

Taking less than three seconds to think, I grabbed at the nearest rack and then ran out the door. I heard Dr. Greene shout after me, but I ignored him. Jumping behind the wheel I managed to keep it under the speed limit and avoid causing any major accidents. Once I turned off onto Hwy 969, I put my foot on the floor and raced toward my goal.

“Hang on, Baby Girl. I’m coming for you.”

THINK, MOLLY.

Think.

My option were pretty limited when I considered the facts. One thing was perfectly clear. Draven was certifiable.

There was no talking my way out of this. I would not let him have me. I was not going anywhere with him. He would not take my son.

I had to fight.

The next time he walked into the room, one of us wasn’t coming out. He was a lot bigger than me...but I was Molly Fucking Jensen, and I knew how to hurt someone if I had to.

Logan’s safety troubled me, but not as much as the thought of Draven raising him. Imagining my baby being in the demented clutches of that violent asshole...no way that was happening.

We weren’t getting on a fucking plane with this monster. We’d have been better off if I’d fought him the moment I saw him in my kitchen...even if he’d killed us both.

That thought made me furious at myself, but it was true. I was done with being cowardly, and the time for feeling sorry for myself was over.

I crawled to the bedside, desperate for some eureka moment to happen to me. I needed ideas.

That’s when I started to pray.

It felt ridiculous. I felt like a hypocrite. But the level of my desperation was so beyond anything I’d experienced that I reverted back to my childhood Sunday school ways. I was praying before I realized I was doing it, and though I usually thought it was superstitious mumbo jumbo, my heart was 100% behind every frantic word.

Dear God, please help me. If not for my heathen ass, at least for my baby boy.

Keep Logan safe.

Please, Lord. I need ideas. I promise to do better. I promise not to be such a fuck up if you just help me out here.

If you’re listening up there, give me time to figure out how to get out of here.

I gave it my all...on my knees beside the bed, my hands clasped in front of me. My head ached, my face hurt, and I just wanted to lay down and sleep. But I didn’t. I couldn’t afford to.

As I bent my face toward my clasped hands, I bumped my eye against my knuckles and winced. I gently touched my eyelid, and could feel that it was swelling shut. It didn’t matter much. Since he’d hit me, I’d been seeing floaters and shadows...so it wasn’t much use to me anyway.

I slumped down suddenly, knowing this was my darkest hour. The single bare light bulb overhead cast shadows around the room, and I squinted to test my vision in my unmolested eye. That’s when I noticed the loose leg.

The heavy legs of the bed frame were connected by large, clunky screws. It was no wonder the bed creaked like it did when Draven was all over me in it. One of the legs hadn’t been attached correctly. Drae was a lot of things, but he was not mechanically inclined. If he wanted something done, he paid someone else to do the manual labor.

Even I could see that the screw had been misaligned. Knowing Draven, he’d given up 3/4 of the way into screwing it in. I reached out and tried to twist it with my hand, but it was no good. My knuckles were still swollen and weak. I was close to dissolving into hopeless tears, when I heard my Daddy’s favorite saying in my head. It was so clear in my mind, it was as if he was there whispering it to me.

“God helps those who help themselves, Mollybelle.”

I set my jaw, determined to find a solution. I needed a tool of some sort, like a butter knife, or something that fit the notch well enough to get the leverage to make it turn.

I crawled around the floor looking for a nail or anything that might work to fit into the groove. Finding nothing, I returned to the bed, ready to use my teeth on the screw. As my hand came to rest on the bed frame, the dim light twinkled off the prong holding the black diamond of my engagement ring. I froze, fixated on the ring...not the engagement ring, but the narrow wedding band next to it.

When we’d discussed wedding rings Joe had insisted on having them made out of an unusual metal. Remembering the conversation, had me on the verge of tears again. Naturally, that conversation had taken place where some of our best did these days. In bed.

“Titanium, babe.” His cocky expression somehow came off as cute, though I wanted to pummel him for his stubborn stance.

“I think we can spring for bands made out of gold.” I chided him. “We aren’t exactly hurting for money right now.”

Wrapping his arm around my waist he pulled me close. Entwining his fingers with the fingers of my right hand, he pulled it up in front of his face.

“We both work with our hands.” He kissed my hand delicately, and I blinked at him blankly resisting the urge to ‘duh’ him. “Titanium will hold up better. Gold and silver scratch and ding really easily. Titanium is the heartwood of metals.”

“What does the mean?” I narrowed my eyes in genuine confusion. He’d named his upcoming charity event Heartwood, but I thought it was just a pretty title. I didn’t realize it was an actual term and it had me curious.

“When I’m working on something very intricate that has fine detail, I always use heartwood. It’s from the oldest, strongest part of the tree. It’s what adds stability to the trunk so that the tree can continue to stand as it grows and branches out. The stronger the heartwood, the taller and bigger the tree can grow.” His voice was soft, and as was always the case when he spoke about his work, there was an undertone of excitement. He never made me feel stupid for not understanding every facet of his job like Draven did. I knew I wasn’t the only one who noticed this about him. Nick and I had discussed Joe’s patient nature, and Nick said it was one of the traits that made him a great master carpenter to apprentice with.

The excited look in his eyes was enough to overcome my objections.

“You’re the boss.” I drawled wryly with a shrug.

“Well, I’m the boy and you’re the girl, so...” I huffed and slapped his arm playfully. With a hearty chuckle, he wrestled his way on top of me. Soon we were rolling around and kissing. I snuggled happily against him, breathing in his scent.

“Joe?” I murmured.

“Yeah, baby?” His response was soft, as he ran his fingers up my spine.

“You’re my heartwood.” It was meant to be a joke, but I felt the sarcastic smile melt off my face when I glanced up and saw the fierce, complex look in his eyes. It was gone in a flash, and a sexy half-smile appeared on his lips.

“I’ve got your heartwood right here.”

Now, shivering on the cold wood floor of a dilapidated farmhouse, I stared down at the titanium band. I felt my heart leap. The band edge was thinner than a gold band would have been. Now I just had to get it off over my swollen finger.

This was going to hurt.

Knowing I had no time to dick around, I bit into the side of the mattress to muffle the scream that threatened to escape me. It hurt more than I expected, but I forced it off anyway. Tears sprang to my eyes, but it came off of my abused finger. The engagement ring never moved, but my titanium band was a hair bigger, since they were nearly impossible to size.

I gasped greedily, pulling air into my lungs as if I might drown in the agony. When it subsided a minute later, I turned the ring over in my hand.

“Good call, Joe.” I croaked.

I set my jaw, and got back to the task at hand. Inching under the bed, I held the ring unsteadily in my right hand. Focusing, I worked to fit the band into the notch of the large bolt. After three tries I finally managed to line up my shaking hand with the groove. It fit perfectly. I closed my eyes and stifled a victorious sob.

Thank you, God. If you’re listening up there, thank you.

Apparently God was tuned in to Molly radio, because Draven didn’t come into the room while I spent what seemed like hours working the screw. I dropped the ring twice, and one time it almost rolled all the way to the grate in the floor. In the last few seconds, I could hear him moving around on the lower level, and I thought I might choke on my heart which seemed to be blocking my windpipe. The screw finally came out of the hole, separating the leg from the rest of the bedframe.

As it came off in my hand, the bed shifted and I scrambled to grab it. My hand closed on the frame just before it would have thudded into the floor. I sat frozen for a minute, listening to see if I had made too much noise.

Thunder rumbled nearby and I realized a storm must be brewing outside. I prayed that it was enough to cover the sounds I was making. I started counting in my head. Other than intermittent thunder, it was quiet for over two minutes. Then I heard the TV switch on, and I exhaled.

Setting my teeth, I forced my scratched up ring back on my finger. I did my best to be quiet, ignoring the sharp pain that accompanied the action. It had to be done. There was no way I was leaving this house without it, and I needed Joe with me for what was about to go down, in spirit at least.

Climbing awkwardly to my feet, I inched over to the spot beside the door. Leaning back against the wall I waited. Time seemed to drag out endlessly. After what seemed like an eternity, I heard Logan start to fuss in the room next door. Then I heard Draven’s footfalls on the stairs. I stood off to the side, the heavy bar held in both hands as if it were a baseball bat and I was waiting for a pitch.

Swing away, I thought and came perilously close to cackling deliriously. Draven paused in the hallway and my mind raced.

Had he heard me? Was he going to hurt Logan?

He walked to my door and I heard him hitting numbers on the pad. The door swung open and he walked in, fixedly looking down at his cell phone. I could not have asked for a better target. Swinging as hard as I could, I felt the leg reverberate in my hands as I connected with Draven’s mouth, knocking out several teeth.

Falling to his knees, he dropped his cell phone which broke apart when it hit the floor. Pulling his hands up to his face he groaned and I swung again, this time taking him in the back of the skull. The blow knocked him flat onto his face. Another groan escaped him and I pulled back and thwacked him again, this time in the back. I swung the leg a couple more times until he no longer made any noise.

Logan was screaming from across the hall now and I turned to go get my baby. I had taken two steps when I wheeled and returned to Draven. Kicking him hard in the face got no reaction. For good measure, I hit him with the leg one more time before I turned back to the next obstacle between me and my baby.

Reaching the door, I called out in attempt to comfort him.

“Logan, baby. Mommy’s here. Don’t worry. I will be in there in just a second.” His cries didn’t diminish, if anything they got louder. Now, afraid that Draven might have done something horrible to him, I tried punching numbers into the lock. I knew it was six digits. Each door had sounded different, but all of them had a six digit long code.

First, I tried our anniversary. Nothing. Next, I tried the day I had left him. Then the day we opened the restaurant. When that didn’t work I tried my birthday. I was starting to wonder if I had just doomed Logan to a slow death. Maybe he would have been better off with Draven as a father than to die of dehydration in a ramshackle house in the boonies.

As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I started punching the numbers.

Number, Number, Number.

When the lock clicked open, I couldn’t help but marvel at the ego of the man. The combination he had chosen to lock his would-be son in with? His own birthday.

Pushing the door open, I rushed to Logan’s side. Pulling him into my arms, I saw that he was wet through his clothes. He had been for some time. Stopping to grab a diaper I changed him quickly, and applied lots of powder. Picking him up, I turned to find my way out of the hell hole. I clutched Logan to me and made for the stairs.

Once in the doorway, I jerked to a stop. Blocking my escape was a bloody demon. Draven was now short a few teeth. Blood oozed from multiple wounds in his head. His boyish good looks were gone and the abomination standing between me and freedom finally did the creatures lurking inside Draven’s mind justice. Terror ripped through me as I clutched Logan to my chest.

“You’re gonna die, bitch.” Cold Draven said. Wiping blood from one of his eyes he flicked it contemptuously toward me. “No more games. No more talking. You’re going to die right fucking now.”

He moved into the room carefully, leaving me no opening to rush past him.

I slowly backed up, letting my eyes go left and right. I let the panic I felt show on my face and slumped my shoulders a bit. He gave a bitter laugh and pulled a handkerchief out of his jacket. It was a familiar move. Draven hated to have anything on his face. I had seen him perform the same task multiple times when caught in the rain. He was about to wipe off his face.

Feigning defeat, I waited for him to raise his hand. In the instant his vision was obscured, I brushed past him and out of the room in a move that would have made a professional linebacker proud. In the hallway, I had three options: my room, Draven’s room or beyond that, down the stairs.

His roar of anger sounded behind me as I turned toward the stairs. I kept both hands around Logan and braced for him to kick me. If I could keep my legs under me down the stairs, I could take a chance with blocking off a room and getting out a window.

Two steps before the staircase his hand closed on my hair jerking me back. Pain exploded in my scalp and neck. Instead of pulling straight back, he swung me by the hair and threw me across the room. I connected painfully with a doorjamb and instinctively wrapped around Logan to protect him.

I looked up to see Draven stalking toward me. Looking around, I saw he had flung me by the hair into his bedroom.

“You can’t get away from me, slut. One thing is painfully obvious,” he said gesturing to his face. “You are never going to be properly trained. No more chances. It’s time for you to take what’s coming to you.”

He raised his hands up and I shielded Logan with my body and feebly raised an arm to fend off the coming blow. I might as well have been trying to block a truck. His fist connected with my already damaged face causing me to black out for a second. The sensation of Logan being pulled from my arms brought me to sickening consciousness.

Draven pulled him from my arms and tossed him nonchalantly aside. It was obvious that he didn’t care anymore for his replacement son than he had for anyone else in his life. It was only blind luck, or something more divine, that put the padded chair in Logan’s trajectory. My baby boy bounced onto the cushion and gave a lusty cry.

At that moment, something deep inside me snapped. Everything Draven had ever done to me culminated...the fear, loathing, hatred and shame now banded together with the rage of a mother. I came off of that floor and leapt atop him like a jungle cat.

Ripping his face with my nails, I sought to pull his eyes out of his head. When he whipped his face away from my hands I jackknifed my body forward and sank my teeth into the sensitive flesh of his cheek. With a roar of rage, he whipped our bodies around and slammed me into the wall. The entire room shook when he did it and plaster fell from the ceiling. Swinging around, he jumped and landed with me between him and the floor.

The breath was blasted from my lungs and for a moment it was all I could do to try and pull oxygen in. Draven pulled himself up on one elbow then captured both of my hands in his. Ripping my arms above my head, he pinned them there with one hand. Reaching down with his other he ripped out the crotch of my panties in one single motion.

“Bitch, you’ve been one giant mistake. The only thing you were ever good for was a decent fuck. So I am going to fuck you, then I am going to strangle you and watch the life vanish from those pretty eyes.”

“So you’re a rapist now? You pathetic bastard!” I managed to spit half-heartedly in his face.

He wiped it off on what was left of my shirt, never releasing my arms.

“You want it, Molly. You want it bad. You always did. You’re going to beg me to fuck you. Harder. Faster. And you’re going to make me a believer. Because if you don’t I might just decide to leave that baby behind when I go. And it would be a shame for him to die in the fire with you.”

I glared up at him and realized I was out of moves. Physically, I had nothing left. He had me and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do. And he knew it, too. Reaching down with his free hand, he yanked at his belt. Just then, a loud crash rang out. It sounded like lightning had hit the house. A reverberating boom, which I felt through the cold wood I was pinned to, sounded through the house.

For an instant, I wondered if the place was on fire from the strike, then I heard something I’d given up hope of ever hearing again. Joe’s voice.

“Molly!” His animalistic howl carried equal parts rage and fear.

Draven looked up and sneered. He slid off me as he snaked his hand into my hair and pulled me toward the bed.

This is your play? Joe’s here and you are going to try and take me before he can get up the stairs?

I realized too late that his goal wasn’t the bed, it was the bedside table. Ripping the drawer open, he pulled out a silver gun. It was the kind with the round cylinder that held bullets. As he took it from the drawer, I found my voice.

“Joe! Be careful! He has a gun!” Draven smacked the gun against the injured side of my face, effectively shutting me up. Groaning, I almost fell to my knees, but he viscously yanked on my hair keeping me on my feet. Putting the barrel of the gun under my chin he waited.

The doorway was suddenly filled by the hulking figure of Joe. I had once thought that Joe was scary when he was mad. I now realize that I had no idea exactly how elementally terrifying Joe can be when he is truly enraged. His green eyes were wild in the flashing lightening, and he seemed to puff up in size. Whatever plan Draven had been concocting with me as a hostage went out the window as Joe appeared. The gun seemed to turn in his direction of its own volition as Joe leapt forward and spat fire. Three rounds in rapid succession hit Joe in the chest.

Before my unbelieving eyes, I saw the man I love crumple and fall to his knees before me. His hands went to his chest and he doubled over until his forehead was nearly touching the floor. Draven took a deep breath and let out a deep sigh of relief.

“Well,” Cold Draven said. “That almost got complicated. Luckily, Neanderthal here is all brawn and no brains. What a moron. You told him I had a gun. So he runs up here and hopes true love is going to save you?” Dragging me back against him he ground his erection against my ass.

“I hope you rot in hell, Draven.” Tears blurred my already limited vision and I wished that Draven had just killed me on the street. At least Joe and the kids would have been okay.

“You first, Doll. Now where were we? Oh yes...I was going to fuck you and you were going to beg for it. Or I could just cap the baby now? He and daddy can play together in Heaven...”

Movement from in front of us caught his attention, stealing his voice. Joe, impossibly, was pulling himself to standing. Rage radiated out from him like waves of heat. Draven pulled the gun up toward Joe and things seemed to go into slow motion.

Joe leapt forward with a primal cry ripping from his throat. The gun came up just as Joe’s fist connected with Draven’s head. There was a crack, like a baseball hitting a bat, and then the gun went off. Draven flew back, jerking away from me as his hand went slack in my hair. Joe’s momentum carried him past me after Draven.

When Draven hit the window, it was like the entire wall came apart. Rotten wood blasted outward as the window and a good part of the wall broke loose. Draven, his head flopping boneless on his shoulders, disappeared into the dark.

Joe stopped at the edge of the gaping hole. Swaying back and forth he slowly turned toward me. He seemed fine, until he turned fully around and I saw the right side of his face was covered in blood.

“Molly?” He seemed unable to focus on me for a second. Then his eyes locked on mine and he smiled. For an instant, we stared at each other. His eyes fluttered and rolled back in his head and he slumped to the floor. Bouncing off the wood, Joe started sliding out the hole into the storm.

Leaping forward, I grabbed his leg, just as he was falling back. Digging my feet into what was left of the wall, I fought to hold him in place. Insanely, I started screaming for help. My nails dug into his clothing as I felt him start to slip through my grasp. An inch, then a few inches. It became clear to me that if I held on too much longer I was going to go out the window with him.

Tightening my grip, I set my teeth and dug in. My heart pounded in my temples, and every muscle in my body screamed, but I would not let him fall.

Hands, lights, shouting… when your world has become a blur of agony and fear it’s hard to keep your wits about you. I woke in a hospital bed, lying atop clean sheets with tubes running out of my arms. The pain, which had been debilitating, was blissfully absent. Coming awake, I reveled in the lack of physical torment. Then panic shot through me as my memory returned.

Gentle hands gripped my shoulders, holding me in place in the bed.

“Shh, honey.” My mother’s face looked drawn but she gave me a tentative smile. “It’s okay baby. I’m here.”

“Logan!”

“Logan is fine, sweetie.” Gesturing to the right she pointed to a double sized hospital basinet. Logan lay inside clutched tightly by his sister Eva. He had an IV sticking out of his hand and his entire forearm was taped I assumed to keep it in place. The two of them looked so peaceful and beautiful a sob escaped me. Mom turned around and enveloped me in a hug. Stroking my hair, she gently rocked me while I unleashed a torrent of my unshed tears.

“It’s okay, sweet girl, let it all out.” Mom said, and I clung to her like a scared child.

By the time I wound down, her shirt was sopping wet with tears and snot. Rising, she grabbed me a washcloth and towel to clean up with. Pulling tissues from a box near the table she had me blow my nose.

“God mom, I’m sorry. Your shirt...”

“Don’t you dare apologize, Honey. It is a small price to pay to hold you in my arms again. I was so worried...the nurses said you have bruises everywhere. And bites. They already took pictures for the police and did a rape kit.”

I wanted to scream. This news made me feel almost as violated as Draven had, but I understood they needed to prove what he’d done and what he hadn’t. I remembered Draven sinking his teeth into me twice during his little visits to my room for playtime. The fact that my mother knew this detail made me want to wretch. I wondered if Joe knew and I turned to her anxiously.

“Mom...where’s Joe?” The look on her face made my heart do flips in my chest. “What’s wrong?”

“Mollybelle, I need you to stay calm. The babies need you to be strong for them right now.” She was handling me. I didn’t need that. What I needed was answers.

“Mom,” I said in a voice far calmer than I felt. “What’s going on? Tell me, please.” The last word came out high and pleading. Mom took a deep breath, took my hand and held my gaze.

“Molly, he’s down getting an MRI done.” She saw the apprehension on my face and hurried on. “The doctors are concerned. The bullet grazed him near the temple and they just want to make sure the damage is superficial.”

My breathing was shallow. “Just a graze? But I saw him shot multiple times.”

“He was wearing a vest.” The doctor said, not looking up from my chart as he entered the room. “He has two fractured ribs. He dislocated his shoulder, busting down the door, we assume.”

I thought about the way Joe had slammed into Draven, and wasn’t entirely sure. Kicking my blankets off, I tried to stand. “I want to see him.”

“I’m sorry, that’s not possible now. The police have guards posted at his room.” The doctor replied, flipping casually through my chart. His dark almond eyes glanced up at me and did a double-take at my stunned expression.

Shock ran through me as I processed his last sentence. “Why?”

“Honey, he killed Draven.” My mom murmured, covering me back up.

“They’re pressing charges?” I flung my blanket aside and tried to climb out of bed. Mom gently eased me back onto the pillow.

“Not as such. From my understanding some details got leaked to the press and his family is raising holy hell. Officially, it’s for his protection during the investigation. But this is serious, Molly.”

I snapped. “I’m aware of that, mother. You know what else is serious? Kidnapping. Assault with a deadly weapon. Throwing my eight month old around like a rag doll!”

“Molly, please calm down.” My mom cautioned.

“I’m glad he’s dead.” I blurted, and the look I got from everyone in the room made me feel like a sane person in a crazy world.

Mom looked astounded. “Molly!”

I glared at her. My mom was a God fearing woman, but I didn’t care that I’d just disappointed her. I knew it was a hateful, despicable thing to say...but I didn’t take it back.

“Increase her drip.” The doctor whispered to the nurse who was taking my temperature. She nodded.

“No!” I heard the monitor beep in time with my racing heart. “If those assholes even think about charging Joe—”

“They won’t.” Joe’s dad piped in as he entered the room. His eyes were red rimmed and for the first since we’d become acquainted, he looked disheveled. “Put that out of your mind, Molly. That’s the least of your concerns, I promise you. Right now you just need to rest.”

“James.” I croaked, feeling my stomach twist in knots at the sight of him. I vaguely remembered him being at the house when help arrived. I had a flash of him picking Logan up off the chair that Draven had discarded him in, and I wasn’t sure, but I thought James may have wrapped his jacket around my shoulders and led me out into the rainy night. “How’s Joe?”

“He’s hurting, but that’s what you get when you knock down a steel door with nothing but your shoulder and adrenaline. And getting shot at close range, Kevlar or not is going to leave a mark.”

I tried to nod, but I couldn’t lift my head from the pillow. “How’s his head?”

“He’ll probably have a scar, but I told him it gives him character.” He smiled good-naturedly. “We’ll know more, later, but he’s awake and alert.”

The confidence in his voice placated me. I leaned back and then raised a hand to my face.

“Why do I have a bandage over my eye?” I felt sleepier, and assumed the nurse had already snuck something into my IV.

“You had surgery on your eye a couple of hours ago. Don’t you remember?’ James looked concerned, and in that moment he looked so much like Joe that I nearly sobbed.

“It’s alright.” The doctor interjected, speaking more to him than me. “She’s been sedated since they brought her in. One might not remember much. It’s normal.”

“What’d he do to my eye?” Remembering the shadows across my vision, I wasn’t sure I really wanted to know.

“You had a detached retina. The surgeon repaired it.” The doctor replied.

“I’m sorry. She already has two visitors.” I heard the nurse tell someone at the door.

“It’s fine. I’ll leave so he can come in.” Joe’s dad said, glancing over at the twins. His eyes met mine and I was startled to see how emotional he was. “It’s good to have you back, Molly.”

I opened my mouth, but I couldn’t find any words. I nodded at him. As he left the room, I looked back at my mom. “I’m tired.”

“Sleep, honey.” She demanded, and I felt a hand grip mine. I turned my head without lifting it off the pillow. Mac loomed over me on the right side of the bed. He looked like absolute hell, all scruffy with bags under his eyes. It suddenly struck me how much he looked like Daddy, and I was worried about him.

“Good to see you, short shit.” He tried to play it light, but his eyes told a different story.

“Mac.” I sniffed, suddenly feeling weepy. He looked taken aback by my reaction, but didn’t say anything to tease me about it.

“Mason and Robin are here. They’re in the waiting room with Robbie and Tamryn. Tamryn’s pretty shaken up, but she wants to come back and see you.” He gently hugged me and held me for a moment. His eyes traveled over my wounded face. I saw violent anger flicker across his face, but he seemed to shrug it away. “I should have taken care of that asshole when I first heard he put a hand on you.”

“Malcom Thaddius Hildebrandt.” Mom’s voice never rose above a conversational tone but Mac stiffened. “That’s enough. I’m sure she appreciates the sentiment, but she doesn’t need you getting her all riled up.”

“Okay, Mom.” Looking back at me he winked conspiratorially and squeezed my hand. Too tired to do anything more, I smirked with the side of my mouth that still functioned properly.

“Molly.” The nurse stepped forward and blushed as she gave Mac a sideways glance. “The pediatrician would like to take some X-rays of Logan and examine him again.”

“Again?” I asked, feeling mentally sluggish. “What’s wrong with him?”

“He was a little dehydrated and he had the start of a rash on his bottom but other than that he appeared uninjured. I understand you told the paramedics he was thrown?”

“Yes.” It surprised me that I’d had conversations of which I had no recollection. I recalled the image of Draven flinging Logan aside and I shuddered. Mac exhaled loudly and didn’t let go of my hand.

“They’d like to check him to be sure he doesn’t have any hidden injuries.” The nurse went on.

“I’m going with him.” I replied, trying to get up for a second time.

“That’s out of the question.” The doctor replied, his dark eyes narrowing at me.

“You’re not taking my baby anywhere without me. No one is.” I barked and Mac put a hand on my shoulder.

“I’ll go with him, kid. Let these people do their jobs.” His level delivery took all of the fight out of me.

“Don’t you dare let him out of your sight, Mac.” I meant it to sound forceful, but it was more of a mumble. I felt like my functioning eyelid weighed ten tons.

“Not a fucking chance.” Mac replied, and then my world went dark.

I HAVE ALWAYS firmly believed that lawyers and politicians are reserved a special place in the hottest fires of Hell. As with many things I was absolutely sure of in my youth, I’ve come to realize that I was full of shit. Granted, my opinions were largely formed by the animosity that existed between me and my father. Since he was both a lawyer and a politician, it made most members of both professions highly suspect in my opinion.

Every time I’ve found myself in a legal tug of war, I’m suddenly grateful for my family of lawyers. Draven Cirone’s family may have ostracized him in life, but in death they chose to canonize him. Maybe it was to save face...who knows?

When the D.A. didn’t buckle to their demands to prosecute me, they came after me in civil court. Being as fickle as they are, the press was quick to jump on the bandwagon, calling my actions ‘vigilante justice’. The court of public opinion seemed to split down the middle, and after a couple of unfortunate exchanges with the press, Molly and I avoided the situation completely by staying home.

Dad and Tamryn didn’t pull any punches. Tamz took the Cirones down a legal rabbit hole that was truly awe inspiring to watch. Dad was less involved in the court battles, but that doesn’t mean he was any less engaged in the situation. He didn’t tell me much (wishing me to have plausible deniability), but mentioned that he had his people offering quiet assistance to law enforcement.

Within three weeks of filing the civil suit, the Cirone family suffered some unfortunate setbacks. The F.B.I. arrested two of their family members for tax evasion and bribery. I assumed Dad’s caffeine-addled hackers played a role in that. Just as things started to get really ugly, the D.A. released all of the information on Draven’s kidnapping of Molly. She was naturally upset about this turn of events, but she knew it was helping my case. Days later, some anonymous source also leaked Draven psychiatric files online and the tabloids went after the family like rabid dogs. The way they backpedaled was epic; they pulled all their lawsuits and by all accounts tried to vanish from the public eye.

I kept out of sight as well, only leaving Molly and the kids when I had to go to court. On those rare occasions when I had to go out, Mac, Mason or Graham came to the house. It just made me feel better to know that my family was looked after when I was gone. It was a full two months after I got Molly back before things were finally starting to get back to normal.

Normal. What the hell does that even mean? On paper we were healing. My ribs had healed and my wounds had been reduced to nothing more than a scar along my temple. Molly’s face had healed, and her vision was 20/20 with her contacts in. She was sleeping, at least as much as she ever did. My kids had started sleeping in their own rooms again. Even so, half the time I’d wake to find Molly asleep on the couch or in the glider with one of the twins. If not, I’d find Eva sleeping with Logan in his crib. On those nights, Molly was roll up in a blanket like a mummy, so far over on her side of the bed that she’d practically fall off.

Once when I was half asleep, I rolled over and wrapped my arm around her waist. She reacted as if she’d discovered a rattlesnake in our bed. Her elbow connected with my lip and she fought her way away from me as if her life depended on it. Having taken a sleeping pill, she never even woke up. The next morning when she saw my bruised cheekbone and the small cut on my lip, her eyes went wide.

“Baby, what happened?” She asked, moving in to get a closer look at my face.

“Nothing.” I lied. “I tripped and hit it on the doorframe last night when I was checking on the kids.”

Thanksgiving was awkward. We did lunch at my parents’ house and dinner at Molly’s mom’s. Both families toasted about our bounty of blessing and all the things for which we had to be thankful. I nodded and smiled though it felt like a mask. Molly said nothing, and I gently put my hand on her knee. She turned to me, and the tormented look in her eyes haunted me the rest of the day.

The restaurant was a big topic of conversation. I was pissed when Mason brought up the subject, because Molly hadn’t even been there since our wedding day. Everyone erupted in excited chatter, and Granny used it as an excuse to pour more wine. Betty came around the table to hug me.

“Chet always said ‘Mollybelle’s gonna run this place some day and we’re gonna retire and drink Mai Tai’s on the beach’. Thank you for being so good to my girl, Joseph.” She kissed my cheek and hugged Molly from behind. A couple of minutes later when the conversation turned to Robin’s new job, Molly disappeared into the kitchen. When I went to find her, she was washing dishes by the light above the sink.

I came up behind her like I had so many times before, but when my lips connected with her neck she cried out and nearly climbed the cabinets to get away from me. I stumbled back, holding my hands up in surrender.

Molly’s panicked face fell when she saw my wide-eyed expression and she hurried to me. Her hands gripped my hair and she kissed my frantically. “I’m so sorry, baby. You just startled me.”

This type of behavior was more the rule than the exception.

Most of the time she clung to me, holding my hand or cuddling up close. I craved the attention, and lapped it up like a thirsty dog. She fluctuated between clinging to me and shying away. When things got heated, and our touching or kissing escalated, she withdrew and I retreated in response. When I’d asked her if she wanted to talk about what had happened to her, she refused. We hadn’t made love once since our honeymoon, but it was the least of my concerns. I was desperate to be close to her, to make her laugh again. I needed to feel connected to her like we’d been, but I had no idea how to get past the newly erected walls she was hiding behind. I’d hoped that time would fix us, but I was starting to see that she was slipping further away from me.

Neither Molly nor I had been back to work and though we hadn’t discussed it, she didn’t seem in a hurry to rectify that. She looked pale and drawn, and frankly I was afraid to leave her. I had Mac bring projects that they needed me for to the house and I worked on them in the garage. When the kids were napping, Molly wandered from room to room like a ghost, and seeing she was just as lost as I was made it hard to concentrate on anything. I knew that she needed help...that we needed help.

It wasn’t long before I enlisted an expert. We’d just put the kids down for their afternoon nap on Christmas Eve when there was a knock at the door. Molly answered it and seemed surprised to see Dr. Greene standing on my threshold.

“Molly. How have you been?”

“Umm...just fine, Will.” She fidgeted with her sleeve, but she let him in. “What brings you by?”

I came up beside her and put my hand on her shoulder. “I asked him to come.”

Her eyebrows shot up and she scanned my face for clues to what had prompted this surprise. Ignoring her silent demand for an explanation, I led him into the living room and offered him some coffee. Once we were all settled, Dr. Greene turned to Molly.

“I wanted to come and wish my favorite couple a Happy Holidays. How’ve you been sleeping?” I could almost see her hackles rise at his tone.

“Like a baby.” Her well-rehearsed poker face slipped into place.

“Is that so? Well that’s a relief.” I could tell by the tension in the room that she knew he doubted her story. “I have been waiting for you to come to see me since we talked in the hospital. You haven’t made any appointments.”

She toyed with her hair. “I’ve been really busy.”

His sardonic expression was familiar to me. “So I hear. Spending almost all your time at home. No work, no outings. Just kind of hunkering down in the homestead. Are you going somewhere for Christmas?”

Irritation broiled in her eyes. I expected her to use the excuse she’d trumped up for our families. That she and I just wanted a quiet Christmas with the twins. Dr. Greene sipped his coffee as if we were discussing college football. I was surprised at the casual way he was treating all of this. He, better than anyone, knew what both of us had gone through.

“Will,” She responded tightly, rearranging her features so that they took on a mechanical, blank expression. It had been years since I’d seen that look on her face, and it was always when her brothers had taken their razzing too far. This look always preceded an explosive display of temper. While I’d always been highly amused as a bystander, I sure as hell didn’t want it directed at me or the doc. “Is there any particular reason you came to visit?”

“As a matter of fact,” he replied, his voice as smooth as satin, “your husband called me because he’s concerned.”

She turned slowly in my direction, her eyes blazing. I frowned at her morosely and nodded.

“Molly, you know things have been strained. We’re drifting. We don’t talk about things and—”

“Joe.” My name sounded like a plea. I hated the grim finality in the way she said it. Tears welled in her watchful eyes.

“We need to talk about it.” I pleaded. “Please, baby. I’m struggling. I can tell you are, too. I know you aren’t sleeping well.”

“That’s because you’re up checking the doors and windows three times a night.” She trailed off, and it seemed like she was about to add something, but she looked at the doc and clammed up.

“What is it, Molly?” He asked, honing in on her tell. “You seem like you have something you’d like to say.”

She looked down at her hands which were clasped in her lap, and her long hair fell in her face. When she finally looked back up, it was at the ceiling and not us. Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I’m not sure you’ll forgive me.”

I slipped off the couch and knelt down in front of her. She quickly looked down at her lap once more. Taking her hands, I dipped my head to try to meet her eyes. After several long moments, she cautiously met my eyes, shame marring her sweet face.

“Baby girl,” I sighed, astonished that I had to verbalize such a truism to her. “You have nothing to be sorry for...you didn’t do this.”

Her smooth forehead furrowed and the horrible way her voice caught made my stomach flip. “You don’t know what happened. I haven’t told you what he made me do.”

There it was. I’d thought the distance between us was woven only from my fear and guilt. From the sound of things though, she had similar feelings. Now that the conversation loomed before us, I was suddenly afraid of what she might tell me. Everything that she had gone through was on me. It was my fault for being off my guard, and not being there to protect her when she needed me.

“Molly...”

I glanced over at Dr. Greene who was glaring at me sternly. Looking pointedly at Molly, he motioned his hand over his lips in a distinctive zipping motion. Looking back at my wife, I saw she was trembling. Whatever she was holding inside...what she hadn’t told me was poison. Venom left behind by that asshole like a parting gift. If she was going to heal, if we were going to heal, she needed to lance the wound.

“Molly, you don’t have to tell me anything.” I whispered, taking a seat next to her on the couch. “But if you want to talk, I’m listening.”

Molly looked up at me in surprise. Dr. Greene nodded his encouragement when she glanced apprehensively at him.

“Can I have some Bailey’s in this coffee first?” When we both ignored her wisecrack, she looked off thoughtfully.

Then she began to speak. Every moment of her tale was hair-raising, and I found myself on the edge of my seat. Some of it wasn’t as bad as I feared. But some was much, much, worse. As the story poured out of her, I felt hot tears streaming down my cheeks.

My heart ached when she pleaded for me to understand the things she had to do. I raged silently at the things Draven had done to her and how he had violated and assaulted her. It made me wish he was still alive so I could kill him all over again. A million deaths were not enough punishment for what he’d done to my girl. Not to mention what he had planned to do.

She finally spun down, sharing how devastated she was when I was shot. How empty she felt watching me fall to the ground. Her elation when she saw me rise up. We had to wait for her to stop crying after she brought up the shot that nearly killed me.

Hearing her describe how frightened she had been as she felt me slipping out of her grasp was almost too much. The image of her alone in the dark, knowing she might not be able to save me but that she couldn’t let me go. All that kept going through my mind was how amazed I was at everything she’d survived. Her behavior made total sense in the light of all she’d been through. It was a wonder she had any sliver of sanity left.

I struggled to find something to say. I knew the way her mind worked, and that the longer the silence went on the more she would think I was upset with her. Desperately, I tried to put into words what I felt, but my mind was awash in the horrors she’d revealed.

Dr. Greene cleared his throat. When he broke the silence, I rejoiced.

“Molly, I want you to understand something important. Everything you described...you did to survive and to protect your baby. We know you didn’t do it because you wanted to. Blaming yourself is a normal response, but it’s unfounded.”

She frowned at him, but I saw a longing in her eyes. She wanted to believe him. She wanted it to be true.

“You need to forgive yourself.” The doc leaned forward for emphasis as he spoke again. “I’ve seen his file. He never should have been released. Draven was smart enough to convince them to let him go. He was a sociopath and a sadist. And from what you’ve described it sounds like he suffered from dissociative identity disorder. You were dealing with a fractured individual who was as dangerous as they come.”

I gave the doc a grateful look. Molly glanced at me, and I nodded. She didn’t seem entirely convinced but she didn’t argue. Turning, the doc fixed me with an expectant expression. I’d logged enough hours with the man to know if I didn’t speak he would start badgering me.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” She looked confused.

I blew out a breath. “It kills me that you had to go through all that. I should have been here.”

Molly looked surprised at that.

“Joe, he purposely waited until you left. He’d been watching us for months. He was the one at the laser tag maze who fondled me. And I think he was watching me when I was out the night of the bachelorette party, too. He was going to get to me sooner or later. It was only a matter of time. If I’d listened to you in the first place and stayed out of Elaine’s fight with him, he’d have never come here.” She shot back, crossing her arms and looking off into the other room.

We paused in our verbal volley. I considered what she’d been carrying around and I assume she was doing the same.

“It seems to me you did the right thing helping his ex-wife.” Dr. Greene offered. We both whipped our heads in his direction and he shrugged. “You know better than anyone that Draven had no business playing any part in a child’s life.”

I watched the sudden flash behind her agonized eyes. She nodded, but her expression had a hardness I’d never seen on her.

He left a short time later after eliciting promises that we’d both make weekly appointments together and separately. He told me I needed to start going back to the shop, if only for a few hours a week. I wasn’t sure I could keep that promise, but I said I’d try.

I was debating about how I’d trick myself into going back to the shop later that night. Molly and I were both firmly ensconced in our own sides of the king sized bed, and I stared at the ceiling, wide awake. What seemed like hours passed, and after failing to fall asleep, I glanced at the clock. It was midnight.

Christmas.

A year ago to the day she’d agreed to be my wife. In the lonely dark of our bedroom, it seemed more like a decade had passed. I rolled onto my back and sighed. All I wanted was Molly. To hold her, talk with her, taste her. I missed her almost as much as I had when he’d taken her from me.

Though I knew I was torturing myself, I stole a glance over at her. Her crystal blue eyes were open and they rested on the painting on the wall. It was the one she’d talked me into bringing home...the one she said would always make her think of our honeymoon.

“Merry Christmas, baby.” I murmured, hoping it wouldn’t startle her.

She rolled in my direction, and it was obvious that she was surprised I was awake. Our eyes locked in silent conversation. A thousand words seemed to pass between us, and the yearning I felt for her had never been more intense.

“I thought I lost you...” I felt my throat closing up as the warring emotions of my memories and my longing overwhelmed me.

Cautiously, she moved closer, and I shifted so she could rest her head in the crook of my arm. She sighed deeply, her hand caressing my bare chest.

“I thought I lost you, too.” She murmured, her nails trailing lightly over my flesh.

Feeling bold and desperate, I brazenly pulled her tighter against me. I ached to kiss her, to touch her, to get carried away the way we used to. I wanted to show her I was receptive, but I’d never push her knowing what she’d experienced. Molly was going to have to take the lead.

As if reading my mind, when her fingers trailed down my stomach and glided lightly over the waistband of my boxers. I sucked in a breath, and my body responded to her immediately. She pressed herself against my side and I could feel her hardened nipples through the thin material of her nightgown. She slipped her hand into my boxers, and intense ripples of pleasure accompanied her light touch. A throaty moan escaped me, and she tilted her face up to mine. She brushed her lips across mine, and after several long, agonizing moments her mouth closed on mine. Our kiss was gentle, curious, and exploratory. There was nervous energy behind it, like we’d never kissed before, yet her taste was so deliciously familiar. When she pulled her lips away, I was crushed.

“Joe?” Her voice was timid and she surprised me when she placed a wet kiss on my neck and another on my chest.

“Yeah, baby?” I gasped, her firmer grip making it nearly impossible for me to think.

“I just want to feel good again.” She whispered.

I gently rolled her onto her back, kissing her as if my life depended on it. In many ways it did. Because I needed her like I needed oxygen. I’m sure Dr. Greene would have called this statement unhealthy...but it didn’t make it any less true.

Her voice was raspy when she spoke again. “Can you help me feel good again?”

Placing her hand on top of mine, she moved it downward until it was on her hem of her nightgown. She guided it up the soft skin of her thigh and under her nightgown until I could feel the heat between her legs. She arched her body up toward me, and I knew she wanted what I wanted. I brushed her dark bangs aside and as I kissed her I recognized the glassy look of lust in her beautiful eyes. “I’ll do my damnedest, baby girl.”

And I did.

“HOW’S IT GOING back here?” I called over the clanging of pots and pans and the rhythmic sounds of chopping. The kitchen staff all looked up at the sound of my voice, but no one stopped what they were doing.

“We’re surviving!” Sanchez hollered in response, and I nearly hit the ceiling. For a guy who spent his first six months working for me barely speaking above a whisper, he sure had a set on lungs on him.

“What can I help with?” I narrowed my eyes and peeked around the three people working in between us. I spared a glance at the prep counter, which was covered in chopped veggies for salads. Remembering how Joe and I had christened that counter, I felt my cheeks pinken.

“You’re supposed to be out there celebrating.” He shot back, not looking up from his impressive knife work.

“So are you.” I put my hands on my hips so he knew I wasn’t playing.

“We had a rush. I just can’t leave these guys hanging.” His gentle tone made me grin, and I tossed on an apron over my new skirt and blouse. Of all the advice my daddy had ever given me, the only piece he’d been wrong about was hiring an ex-con. Sanchez was a gifted chef...a natural...and it wouldn’t be long before he’d leave me behind in the dust. It was a damn good thing he had a loyal streak, because I found him indispensable.

“Well, then tell me what you need. I’m not eating cake until you’re at the table with me.” I insisted, and he rolled his dark eyes skyward.

“Another batch of your potato salad.” He finally replied, slicing up a full rack of ribs ten times faster than I ever could. “It’s a hot item tonight.”

I smiled to myself as I slipped on two oven mitts and lifted the boiled potatoes off of the stove top. Though I loved preparing Daddy’s signature dishes and all the memories that came along with them, it was satisfying to hear that customers were enjoying the new items I’d added to the menu.

Mollybelle’s opening had been a smashing success. The Chronicle salivated at the story more than my cooking, and my restaurant’s write-up was a much bigger deal than it deserved to be. The reporter chose to paint Mollybelle’s as some giant victory. The defiled damsel pulls herself up by her own apron strings. The rehash of my abduction sold lots of papers, and my restaurant, which they heralded as ‘a scrumptious revival of a past Austin institution’, was just the juicy jalapeno on top of the sundae. Had I not been a local businesswoman, I’m sure the story of my ordeal might have faded into obscurity. Unfortunately, between the restaurants I was involved in and the fantastical details of my tale, the public seemed spellbound.

Luckily, Sanch and I could back up all the hype with our kick ass combination of Daddy’s bestselling recipes and my new spin on a few classics. We were a month out from our ribbon cutting ceremony, and word of mouth still had us packed every night. Folks begged us to open for lunch, and Stacy was helping me hire more staff to accommodate the demand. Though a lot of guests still referred to the place as ‘Hildebrandt’s 2’, we were building a reputation as a force to be reckoned with in a city overflowing with quality barbecue. I wasn’t complaining; comparing me to my dad was the highest form of flattery.

Knowing we had people waiting on the two of us, I worked as quickly as I could to peel and chop the potatoes, mixing in ricotta cheese, apple cider vinegar and red onions, I added my secret blend of spices and presented it to one of the staff.

“Now what?” I called, awaiting his instructions. I owned the place and made the menu decisions, but once we set foot on this side of the swinging doors, Dirty S. was in charge.

“Go on, Little Mama. Get back out to the party.”

I tilted my head, pouting a little. “Are you coming?”

“Give me ten minutes. Check on my wife, would ya?” His prideful smile made me grin and I nodded.

Stacy was halfway through her pregnancy with their first child, and she still went a million miles a minute. She’d completely streamlined the baked goods business, which she’d named after my lemon truffle, The Sour Puss. It made money without a lot of maintenance, and functioned with minimal supervision. This allowed her to help me open Mollybelle’s. I insisted on paying Sanchez a handsome salary as my head chef, so Stacy was doubly invested in our success. She insisted on training the hostesses herself, and she refused to step back until I had what she deemed ‘a suitable manager’.

Sanchez worried that she was doing too much, but I assured him that Stacy was just fine until she said otherwise. Unlike me, Stacy was only having one baby. They’d just found out she was a girl and they’d picked the name Isabella Pilar. They were already calling her Izzy for short. I was overjoyed for them, and thrilled to give all the clothes Eva had outgrown to someone I considered family.

As I searched for Stacy, I couldn’t help but admire the fruits of Joe’s labor. He truly had a gift for blending form and function, and could have easily made a career out of interior design. He’d kept most of the great elements of Hildebrandt’s, but put a contemporary spin on the booths. His change in the lay out made the space more user friendly and added plenty of cool ambiance.

We’d managed to keep one special element from Daddy’s days. When I told Mom I was finally opening the place, she told me she had a present for me. She’d kept Dad’s original neon sign. Mason dug it out of her attic and restored it, skillfully bringing it back to its incredible vintage glory. It now hung over the bar large as life, casting a red glow to the entire bar area. It was no wonder that people were confused about what we were called. But I loved it, and I liked to think he would have loved it too.

After a couple of minutes of searching, I found Stacy at the hostess station, lecturing a waitress on the difference between sexy and sleazy. I stood behind the eagerly nodding girl with my arms folded across my chest. When Stacy dismissed her, the waitress scurried away.

She tossed her head back and arched her back as if trying to stretch to counteract her swelling belly. She looked like she had a volleyball stuffed in her shirt and was so damn cute she made me sick.

“Ugh. Some peoples’ kids! No one needs to see your thong when you’re serving them baked beans.”

“I’ll bear that in mind.” I replied. “Ready to go have some birthday cake?”

She shook her head, and her long hair tumbled around her. Without looking up from her station chart, she tapped her pen against her lips. “We’re too busy. Y’all start without me.”

“You want me to tell Eva and Logan that Aunt Stacy’s too busy for their birthday?” I laid it on thick and she sighed, wearing such a guilty expression I almost apologized.

“I suppose they can manage without me for forty five minute,” she conceded.

“Lovely.” I grinned. “We saved you seats.”

The three of us all finally made it into the side room where our private party was in full swing. Joe sat between his dad and Mason on the far side of the table. He and his dad looked chummy, and the recent way Joe had opened up to him touched me. I wasn’t sure of the details, but I knew James had a lot to do with our salvation. I hoped they’d continue to rebuild their relationship, since it was obvious to me that Joe had a gaping hole in his heart where his father should have been.

Joe bounced our big boy on his knee, and Logan seemed completely contented hanging close to Daddy while the other kids ran around like animals. I noticed Logan had his blankie clutched in one hand and was eating a piece of birthday cake with the other. Blue frosting covered his chubby face and I just shook my head and sighed. Joe spoiled those two rotten, and you can bet he’d be taking them to the dentist when the time came to fill all their cavities.

Mac sat across from Joe with his arm around Kelly. He was telling a story that had the entire table engaged in uproarious laughter. Kelly looked up at him as he spoke as if she hung off his every word. The two of them had been in particularly good spirits all night. I wondered if they planned to move in together soon. With Francis shacking up in the widow Campbell’s boat house, Mac was practically living above Joe’s shop on nights he didn’t have Malcom Jr. anyway.

“There you are!” Kelly spotted me, her brown eyes sparkling. “We’ve been waiting on you to start presents.”

“‘Bout time, baby.” Joe stood and tossed Logan over his shoulder, fireman style. Logan giggled maniacally, and I shook my head.

“If he throws up, it’s on you,” I stated.

Joe looked over his shoulder at Logan.

“Literally.” He quipped, and I couldn’t help but laugh at his joyous expression. He flipped Logan around into his arms so that he could hold him properly, kissing his frosting covered face. Logan looked over at me and grinned with teeth the shade of blue jeans.

“Mama!” He called, as if I’d been lost at sea and he thought he’d never see me again. He held out his arms for me. “Pwesens!”

“You think we should open presents?” I asked in an overly excited voice. As a quick aside to Joe, I muttered. “Grab the wipes and I’ll go round up the birthday girl.”

“Eeeeva!” Joe called playfully over the roar of the crowd. I spied my little girl’s bouncing blonde curls as I neared the far end of the table. She was playing some version of tag with Jamie. Eva spotted me and her hazel eyes flew wide like a teenager who’d spotted a patrol car outside a kegger. She squealed and hurried away, disappearing around the corner by the restrooms with her cousin Jamie trailing close behind.

No longer amused, I barked out in a much sterner voice. “Eva Rose!”

“Damn, girl! You sounded just like mom right there.” Mason’s wry smirk inspired me to slap him playfully on the back of the head.

“Shit.” He complained, rubbing the back of his Bruce Willis style-buzz cut. “You hit just like her, too.”

“That’s not true. If I’d have hit you, you’d be lyin’ on the floor.” Mom gestured with her fork from her place at the head of the table. Joe snickered and I pointed to Logan, who was reaching out for Mason’s beer bottle. He snagged it in his tiny hands and lifted it like he was going to take a swig. With lightning reflexes, Joe snagged it away.

“Not for a few more years, son.” He deadpanned. “You’re two years old, not twenty one.”

We gathered around and Kelly handed me the first present. A glimmer caught my attention and I shoved the gift at Joe and jumped to my feet.

“Kelly!” I exclaimed. “What’s that shiny rock on your finger?”

She froze like a deer in headlights and Robin and my mother gasped.

“We didn’t want to steal your thunder, kid.” Mac drawled, taking Kelly’s hand. He was glowing suddenly, and as Kelly nuzzled him, she looked positively radiant. “I asked her to marry me last night.”

There were a few minutes of pandemonium, and Sanchez took off to check the bar for champagne. Everyone was on their feet hugging and jockeying for position to congratulate the happy couple. I saw Joe shake Mac’s hand and Mac pulled him in to whisper something. Joe nodded and flashed him a dazzling smile.

I was overwhelmed with love for him in that moment, and I glanced down at my own wedding rings. As I admired them, I couldn’t ignore the scratches on my band. Joe had offered to buy me a new one or have them polished out, but I refused. Like the scar on his temple, it served as a reminder of what we’d endured. I wore it like a badge of my private victory, and didn’t see ever fixing it.

The fervor had finally died down, and we’d just started opening gifts when Lisa and Jay arrived. They looked a bit frazzled, muttering about traffic as I handed them drinks. Joe wandered up and gave them a hard time about being fashionably late, and Lisa cocked a sassy eyebrow at him.

“Don’t get testy just because you have a facial disfigurement and now you have to come down and rub elbows with the rest of the common folk, Joe.” She replied. There was a pause as it sunk in to everyone present that she’d just joked about the two inch scar that was the only visible evidence of his altercation with Draven. Jay and I exchanged bemused glances. Knowing Lisa like we did, we expected nothing less.

“I still think you’re hot, Joe.” Granny called out from the far end of the table, breaking the awkward silence. Moments later everyone was laughing.

IT TOOK ME three trips to carry in all the toys Logan and Eva scored at the party. Meanwhile, Molly carried in both twins one at a time, which was no easy feat as they were both fast asleep and totally dead weight.

“Is that everything?” I asked, but she shook her head.

“Blankie.” She mouthed, cradling Logan closer. As I ran out to grab his blankie from the car seat, I ruminated about a recent conversation Molly and I’d had regarding our son. Eva was already completely potty trained, but Logan showed no interest. Though Robin assured us that girls are easier to train that boys, we were still apprehensive. We understood that a lot of kids weren’t potty trained by age two, but to see such a marked difference in interest raised red flags. In addition, Logan couldn’t sleep without his blankie, and sometimes woke screaming as if he had night terrors. He was such a sweet and happy kid during daylight hours, Molly had serious concerns that all that time alone in Draven’s funhouse had permanently traumatized him.

We discussed it with our pediatrician, and she assured us that children were very resilient and the Logan would have no memory of the brief event since he was so young. I know this didn’t totally alleviate Molly’s fears, but she told me she chose to believe the doctor was right. Logan was such an easy going, happy boy, I wanted to believe it as well.

As for my wife, the countless hours she’d spent with Dr. Greene had been invaluable. She’d started a daily medication for depression shortly after our breakthrough, but she wanted to wean off of it now. Our couple’s counseling really helped us identify some destructive patterns and we’d both committed fully to doing the work.

When we showed up at our first appointment hand in hand, Dr. Greene seemed thrilled.

“You two deserve better than this. It was an unfair blow to suffer period, but so early in your marriage...” He shook his head and his eyes were sympathetic. I could tell he’d been thinking about Molly’s story, and it disturbed him.

“Enough with the sad eyes, doc.” I sighed, having had my fill of that for a lifetime before Molly and I were even an item. “We need help, not pity.”

So we talked. We worked. We went when we were sick, too busy, or weren’t in the mood. We went when we were feeling great and wondering if it was necessary. Dr. Greene praised our efforts, and eventually he’d scaled us back to bi-monthly appointments. Very recently, we’d been instructed to make all appointments monthly check-ins. We were excited by the development, and hoped to use the free time for a regular date night.

I had date night on the brain when I entered Logan’s room. I came to a sudden stop clutching his tattered yellow blankie in my hand. I watched as Molly paced slowly with him, humming a lullaby. Seeing her with him that way, reminded me of the eery dream I’d had while they were missing. I’d forgotten all about it until that moment. I remembered Jess being in the dream and tried to recall what she’d said to me.

It’s not your fault.

I nodded to myself as if I’d just solved some great riddle. None of it was my fault. It wasn’t Molly’s either. We’d both been to hell and back a few times. And we might hit rough patches in the future. But as I watched her gently lay our son in his toddler bed, I knew with unwavering certainty that we were going to be okay. No matter what lay ahead of us I was with the girl I was meant to be with.

She crept in my direction and we left his room together. As we crossed the living room in the direction of the kitchen, we glanced around at all the gift bags and boxes.

“We’re gonna need a bigger house.” She joked, her bright smile inspiring me to touch her.

I stopped, wrapping my arms around her waist and pressing my forehead to hers.

“Still love me even though I have facial disfigurement?” I couldn’t get the question out without a small chuckle.

“You’re as handsome as ever. Just ask my grandmother.” She joked, but when she saw my expression waver, she seemed to realize that I was genuinely concerned.

Backing me up against the pantry door, she traced her thumb over the scar. She followed it up by pulling my face down so she could graze the scar with her lips.

“Joe...there is nothing sexier than this scar.” She replied, her eyes boring relentlessly into mine. “Every time I look at you it reminds me just how far you’ll go for me and the kids.”

I accepted the kisses she showered me with and gripped her tightly against me. Our tongues danced, and when we broke away from the kiss, our breathing was labored. I pulled her against my chest, wondering if she could hear my hammering heart. I hoped so, since every inch of it belonged to her.

“I’d move Heaven and Earth for you, Baby Girl.” She gave me that seductive smirk of hers and skimmed her fingers over the back of my neck.

“Well in that case, Cowboy...why don’t you come rock my world right now?” She zipped away in the direction of our bedroom, with me just a half step behind her.

A big “Lone Star Thank You”

to the following sexy people who helped to make this book possible:

Laura Wilson: Not sure how long you’ve been beta’ing, but it seems like we’ve been together forever. Thanks for making time for all the “blah blah blah”. We trust you implicitly, and consider you the dark black cloud that blocks our silver lining. That being said, you’ve become a critical part of our process, and we wouldn’t change a hair on your head.

Tamron Davis: How do we love thee? Let us count the ways: you’re the yin to Lara’s yang. Your belief in me (Michelle) is far beyond what I deserve, and I consider you my very own Kathy Bates from Misery. Your stalking abilities know no bounds, and when you aren’t acting as my real life P.A., you totally should be our research assistant.

Jay McAtee: Sweetie Darling, Darling Sweetie…what would we do without your solid fashion advice and droll sense of humor? Kiss kiss. Thanks for reading and chiming in. And thanks for letting us use your name and likeness.

Robin Harper (Wicked by Design): You really outdid yourself this time, Sweetcheeks. This is my favorite cover (Michelle), but I have no doubt they’ll just get better and better. Thank you for being so completely amazing to work with. Your flexibility and amazing talent humble us.

Stacy Darnell: One of the sweetest, most generous people we know. Thanks for continuing to support our endeavors, even with your own books in the works. Your enthusiasm is contagious. <3 you! We did name Stacy after you…but you are much less slutty.

Lisa Fox: Thanks for letting us plagiarize your personality for our character, Lisa! Always remember, you’re in the entourage. And yes, we can never run for office because you know where all of our skeletons are hidden.

Brett Lewis: Hail to our straight male beta reader! Your straight (heh) talk and late night pm’s helped keep us on track and motivated. It was a fun parallel that you were on the road to fatherhood during this series, though we’re not sure you’d agree. Hope we didn’t traumatize you!

Morgan McNeil: Thanks for eating ribs with us and helping Michelle crash a wedding. Nicely done! You were a wonderful location scout and we appreciate every minute of your time. Next time we come to Austin, you’re going stalking with us.

Andrea Barry: Thanks for always showing up to like, comment and share. We’re glad you were so into Molly and Joe. Thanks for being you and all you do! If you ever get to Texas, be sure to look us up.

Shannon Lewis: Though your questions make us want to choke you from time to time, it’s really more of a choke/hug. Thanks for pushing us, challenging us, and continuing to show up every time. :D

Linda Cotter: Our biggest book whore hands down. Thankyou-thankyou-thankyou for working your fingers to the bone to make sure the word gets out about us and our books. Bookworms like you are the reason we do what we do. Molly and Joe love you, too.

Sally Bouley: Oh my Chuck! My (Michelle) virtual P.A. and all around awesome gal. Thanks for abusing so many pictures of Jensen and Ruby for our amusement. The eye candy is good for the flow of creative juices. We’re so glad to have you in the entourage, and hope you chose to stick around for the next journey.

Chelle Northcutt: Thanks for discovering us, and thanks for continuing to take the time to beta, even with all your recent success in your own book endeavors. We appreciate your candor and unflinching opinions. We’re both thrilled you like what we do. Much love to ya!

Kara King: You never cease to amaze us with what you get done between ambulance trips. Thanks for being an awesome fan/beta reader and your constant support. Your perseverance is inspirational, and we’re glad we keep you entertained. Air kisses. Tell Draven we’re sorry that his namesake turned out to be such a “black hat”.

Elaine Mosgofian: Oh, Elaine. We hope you enjoyed being a citizen in Crazy Town as much as we enjoyed having you. Sorry we’re not sorry we named our cheating backstabber after you. Don’t hold it against us too much.

Allie Morlan: Thanks to our “baby beta” for taking time out of her busy school schedule to run our work through the “youth filter”. We appreciate you representing the younger end of the demographic. Hope you stick around for more!

Stacey Grice: A special shout out to you for the back up medical consulting. It’s a relief to have another author combing over our work. We know how hard that is when you work and write, and we love you for it. P.S. The term “Scrunchie” is forever banned from our vocabulary.

Julie Titus (JT Formatting): We’re writing this before you’ve even seen this manuscript, and yet we’re unflinchingly confident that we’ll love what you do You’ve been with me (Michelle) from the first book, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Thanks for being consistently awesome and always flexible. You’re contribution has saved us many sleepless nights.

Mindy Badgett (Schooled Editing): Thanks for working your ass off to make this happen. We appreciate all the suggestions, even the ones we just can’t take. We thoroughly enjoyed the alcohol-fueled brainstorming and commiserating.

And a ginormous thanks to Ruby Franco and Jensen Ackles, for serving as the picture perfect inspirations for Molly and Joe. We couldn’t have dreamed up better muses. Here’s hoping y’all play them in the movies one day. Thanks for putting up with all of our cyber stalking. We assure you, it is the highest form of flattery.

L.G. Pace III has spent several decades pouring creative energy into other things besides writing. He began his current journey by telling his two daughters bedtime stories about a magical realm and a hero named Terel. Though that story is still sitting unfinished in the electronic universe he has managed to bring two other stories out of the dark maelstrom of his mind for others to enjoy.

He dwells in the great state of Texas with his wife, novelist Michelle Pace and their children.

OTHER WORKS BY L.G.PACE III

Vigilance

The Lost One

CONNECT WITH L.G. PACE III AT:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LGPaceIII

Twitter: @PACEWRITE

Michelle Pace lives in north Texas with her husband, Les, who is also a novelist. She is the mother of two lovely daughters, Holly and Bridgette, and one uber-charismatic son, Kai. A former singer and actress, Michelle has always enjoyed entertaining people and is excited to continue to do so as a writer.

OTHER WORKS BY MICHELLE PACE

Crazy Love

Something’s Come Up (with Andrea Randall)

Fury (with Tammy Coons)

Rage (with Tammy Coons)

The Perpetual Quest for the Perfect Life (with Tammy Coons)

Kiss Kiss

CONNECT WITH MICHELLE PACE AT:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MichelleKisnerPace

Twitter: @MichelleKPace

Webpage: http://www.michellepaceauthor.com

OTHER WORKS BY MICHELLE & L.G. PACE III

Good Wood (a Carved Hearts novel, Book One)

Mollywood (a Carved Hearts Novel, Book Two)