He was going to put his house on the market and they would live in Eliza’s house. Sammy was already adjusted to the space and Troy didn’t want to add any stress to the kids by trying to move them.
Besides, his place was market-ready and hers needed a lot of work. He was looking forward to putting in that work and making her house into the best home it could possibly be.
His first order of business had been collapsing the tunnel and filling it in. They would never be vulnerable to somebody sneaking into their house again.
The last five days had been some of the best days in his entire life. He hadn’t realized what a gift he would receive when he fully opened himself up to receiving the love Eliza and the kids gave to him.
He would always remember the daughter he had lost and there would always be sorrow for her loss, but he truly believed Annie would want him to have a happy face, and Eliza and the kids had given that back to him.
He knew deep within his heart that Annie would have approved of him being where he was now. She would have loved him being a father to two children who had really never had one. Annie had been generous that way, and he considered it a tribute to her life that he was now in Sammy’s and Katie’s lives full-time.
The jewelry store that was the proper owner of the necklace had wanted to give Eliza a $200,000 reward. She had declined it, but they had insisted. She’d finally agreed to accept the reward as long as it was donated to Sammy’s school for the blind. He’d been proud of her decision.
There was only one thing he would never, could never talk to Eliza about, and that was the murder pact he’d entered when he’d been out of his mind with grief and rage. He wasn’t sorry that Dwight Weatherby had been murdered, and he would own that. But like Nick Simon, all he wanted now was to forget that particular horrible part of his past and focus on his future.
And it was such a bright and wonderful future. He now looked forward to waking up in the mornings with Eliza in his arms. He enjoyed getting up every morning and having breakfast with the kids before they went to school. And he loved coming home to them each day after work.
At five o’clock he motioned to the men to knock off work. “We’ll start again in the morning around eight.” When the men left he walked across the yard to walk into the front door where he now belonged.
His heart swelled as he reached the kitchen, where Eliza was in the process of getting ready to serve the evening meal. She stood at the stove and he walked up behind her and wrapped her in his arms. He pressed his lips against the side of her neck as her wonderful scent surrounded him.
“Hmm, better hurry with that, my boyfriend will be home any minute,” she said.
He laughed and she whirled around in his arms to face him. That smile...he knew he would never get tired of that glorious smile of hers. “How’s your day going?” he asked.
“Perfect. I spent the day working on the romance author’s website. So, is the tunnel now gone?”
“Almost. The last of it should be gone by noon tomorrow.”
“Good.” Her eyes darkened a bit and he knew she was remembering the terror.
“Hey, we’re good. The bad guys are gone and it’s just you and me and the kids.” He was glad to see the return of her smile. “By the way, where are the kids?”
“Upstairs playing in Sammy’s room. Before I call them down for supper I wanted to tell you something.”
He dropped his arms from around her and frowned. “Problems?”
“No, not at all, but a little while ago Katie and Sammy came downstairs to ask me a question. They said since we’re slumber partying with you forever now, they wondered if they could call you Daddy Troy.”
His chest swelled and tears suddenly misted his eyes. He hadn’t expected this...this beautiful gift from her kids...from their kids. “Troy?” She laid her hand on his arm. “If you would prefer they not, it’s perfectly okay.”
He shook his head. “No... I want that. I’m humbled and honored. I want to be their daddy.” He took her into an embrace. “I want them and I want you for the rest of my life.” He kissed her with a new joy dancing in his veins and with his heart full of love.
* * *
Don’t miss Nick Simon’s story,
Desperate Strangers,
available now from Harlequin Intrigue!
Keep reading for an excerpt from Do-or-Die Bridesmaid by Julie Miller.
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Do-or-Die Bridesmaid
by Julie Miller
Prologue
The honor of your presence is requested...
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Conor Wildman skimmed over the details of the wedding invitation. Embossed pink hearts and lilac ribbons adorned the paper and the little RSVP card. This had to be a joke. Only it wasn’t.
It took a lot of gall for his ex to invite him to her wedding.
It took even more gall for said ex to be marrying his former best friend.
But he wasn’t bitter. Conor snorted the hot coffee he was drinking up his nose and cursed. Yeah. That was about how good he felt at reading Joe and Lisa’s names linked together—like a hot, black brew scalding his sinuses.
He should have left yesterday’s mail sitting on the counter and come back to it after work this evening. Better yet, after a drink after work this evening. No. He should have dumped the pale pink envelope in the trash and then skipped straight to the drink after work at the Shamrock Bar where he and his new friends at KCPD often hung out after hours.
That was why there’d been no return address on the envelope—so he wouldn’t automatically trash it. If it wasn’t pre-coffee time in the morning, he might have thought to check the envelope for the Arlington, Virginia, postmark. But since he’d just come from the shower and poured himself his first cup, he’d been blindsided by the reminder of all he’d lost these past two years.
It didn’t matter that he logically understood why Lisa had dumped him—too many necessary lies, too many absent nights with his former job at WITSEC. Dumped was dumped. There was no logic that could ease the pain of being told he wasn’t good enough, he wasn’t right enough to make a good husband to her.
It wasn’t the first time he hadn’t been enough to make someone stay.
He was no longer with the US Marshals service, no longer in Virginia, no longer brooding over the life that had been denied him. But a wedding invitation?
There was no one in his life who’d be sending him a Valentine this Fe
bruary. Had he hoped he’d picked up a secret admirer? That his mother had arranged for someone to send him a missive before her death eight months ago? She’d known the breast cancer was winning, that it had metastasized beyond any hope of saving her. She’d spent a lot of those last few weeks getting her affairs in order, trying to get his life shipshape, too, knowing she was the last of his family. Had Marie Wildman been in collusion with his ex’s mother? The two women had been friends for as long as Conor had been alive. Had his mom asked the Karr family to keep an eye on her only child? Make sure he was happy?
If so, what was the point of inviting him to a weekend wedding extravaganza back home? A torturous weekend trapped in awkward conversations with well-meaning friends and painful memories wasn’t his idea of fun. There was a reason he’d moved halfway across the country to take an assignment in Kansas City, Missouri. A reason why he’d left the Marshals Service to become a cop with the KCPD instead of moving back to Arlington after his assignment in KC had wrapped up.
Lisa Karr had rejected his ring and said he wasn’t the kind of man a woman who wanted a normal life should marry. Hell, she’d quoted some statistic about how a man with his temperament and job skills would be divorced in a couple of years if they’d gone through with their engagement. He didn’t think either Lisa or Joe Gerhart was the rub-our-noses-in-Conor’s-pain kind of cruel. But he could see them doing a favor for his mom, feeling sorry for him. Poor Conor. We didn’t mean to hurt you. We know it’s been a tough year. We want you to know we will always care about you.
It didn’t matter that Lisa had officially broken up with him before she’d started dating Joe. It still felt like his friend had stolen his girl. Knowing the two had kept the relationship quiet while he’d been dealing with his mom—seeing them together for the first time at Marie’s funeral—felt like Lisa had cheated on him.
It made no sense, but that was what he felt. He’d been one raw emotion, keeping it together for so long that he wasn’t sure he knew what he felt anymore. Except pissed that Lisa and Joe had invited him to their wedding. In one week. Like he was a problem they needed to fix.
Conor considered taking another hit on the hot liquid caffeine he lived on. But he wasn’t that much of a masochist. He carefully set the mug down on the kitchen counter and stepped away to finish dressing.
Striding into the bedroom, he dropped the towel cinched around his lean hips and pulled on his shorts and slacks. The white shirt with the button-down collar came next. He crossed to the mirror over the dresser and combed his short, wheat-blond hair into place before looping a tie around his neck. He stopped mid-Windsor knot and eyed the brown-and-navy stripes before pulling it off and tossing it onto the bed.
Lisa had given him that tie.
He’d settle for the solid blue tie with the tiny food stain on it. That would have driven her nuts. She’d fuss over his incompetence when it came to dressing himself before catching on that it was just a ploy to get her to put her hands on him. Then they’d laugh. And there would undoubtedly be a kiss.
Conor tugged that tie off, too. Nope. Better opt for the completely neutral, no-history-involved tie he’d picked up at a Christmas party.
He’d once been amused by Lisa’s tendencies to have the details of her life arranged so that there were no surprises. His inability to guarantee her that home-for-dinner-every-night predictability was one of the reasons she’d broken off their engagement. The possibility that he might not come home at all one day because of the inherent dangers of working in law enforcement had sealed the coffin on their future together.
But he couldn’t give up his job—couldn’t surrender the gun and the badge and the crazy hours he’d once worked as a US marshal, tracking down fugitives and protecting witnesses. He wouldn’t give up the man he chose to become after the father who hadn’t wanted him or his mother had abandoned them. He couldn’t give up who he was. Not even for the girl he’d loved since college. His promise that she would always come first in his heart hadn’t been good enough for her. She needed a sense of security that his gun and badge couldn’t provide.
Ironically, now that she was no longer a part of his life, he’d resigned from the Marshal Service. His last case guarding a witness relocated to Kansas City had made him question too many of his supervisor’s decisions. If his boss didn’t have his back, and wouldn’t put the woman he’d been protecting first, then the oath he’d taken—Justice, Integrity, Service—meant nothing. Conor had lost too much for his work and his life not to mean anything.
He thought Lisa had understood that. That she accepted his job was a big part of who he was as a man. But maybe she’d been in love with a version of him he just couldn’t be.
He understood Joe and Lisa’s need to mend fences and make the past right, so they could move on with their future—to their new life. But why was their happiness his problem? He slipped his holster and badge onto his belt, grabbed his suit jacket and headed back to the kitchen.
Conor finished off his tepid coffee in one long draft. He shrugged into his jacket and picked up the wedding invitation to toss it into the trash.
That was when the note that had been tucked inside fell out and drifted to the tile floor. Conor’s shoulders lifted with a wary sigh before he stooped down to retrieve it.
He unfolded the handwritten note—with messages from both Joe and Lisa.
Con—If I was marrying anyone else but Lisa, you’d be standing by my side as best man. I let this go because I know you’ve been dealing with your mom this year. But it’s killing me that you aren’t a part of our lives anymore. Hell, Lisa talks about how much she misses the three of us hanging out the way we did in college so much that I’m getting a complex. I finally told her to send you an invitation. Bail me out, bro. Lisa needs to see you’re okay with her own eyes. Come to the wedding. Do it for yourself, too, and show everyone here that you’re okay.
—Joe.
He flipped over the paper to Lisa’s flowery handwriting. What was this? An intervention to help him get over how sucky they thought his life had become?
Dearest Con—I know things ended badly between us. Deep down in your heart, you know I couldn’t make you happy in the long run, nor you me. But we were friends long before we were something more. We were practically family. Marie and Mom were like sisters. Your mom would want you to be happy, not stewing in anger or grief or whatever it is that is keeping you away from home.
If you don’t care about me or Joe, then think of your mother. We all miss her. Mom most of all. Seeing you here, representing Marie, would make her so happy.
You may think there’s no one in your life who worries about your well-being. But we do.
I hope we can be friends again. I’d love to have a big brother like you in my life. Please come. We miss you.
Yours truly,
Lisa.
Big brother? He hadn’t felt brotherly toward Lisa since she’d sprouted breasts in middle school.
Brotherly was what he felt toward Lisa’s tomboy little sister, Laura. The squirt always seemed to be around when he’d come over to hang out with Lisa, and she’d even tagged along on a couple of dates in college. He’d taught her to swing a softball bat and spit watermelon seeds from the tree house that hovered over both their backyards. Laura had freckles and braces and snorted through her nose when she laughed. Lisa was feminine right down to her painted pinkie toes. Not in any universe could he equate brotherly with his feelings for Lisa.
But his heart hadn’t been enough. He hadn’t been enough.
He wasn’t sure he could handle the friendship she wanted. The pain of her rejection compounded by his mother’s death, the guilt of not seeing how unhappy she’d been with him, wouldn’t allow friendship to flourish again. But maybe he could give Lisa one day.
Show everyone here that you’re okay.
“You played me like a fine violin, Joseph.” Shaking his h
ead, Conor scooped the invitation up and stuffed it into his pocket. His decision was made.
Time for a road trip to Virginia.
Copyright © 2019 by Julie Miller
ISBN-13: 9781488045646
Desperate Intentions
Copyright © 2019 by Carla Bracale
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Desperate Intentions (HQR Intrigue) Page 17