Making It Right

by Kathy Altman

  “I thought you ladies were going to the diner?”

  Kerry’s fingers curled insistently into his shirt and his gaze smoldered with promise.

  “Not me.” Audrey sniffed loudly. “I’m going home to my husband.”

  “Guess it’s just you and me, sis,” Hazel said. She waited a beat, then another, finally huffed a resigned sigh and fell quiet. A moment later, the cowbell applauded their departure.

  Gil’s hands tightened on Kerry’s hips. “I’m suddenly a big fan of purple,” he said gruffly. “And heels. Please tell me you get to keep those heels.”

  Kerry laughed. “I get to keep the heels.” She wriggled closer, enjoying the needy rasp of Gil’s breathing. “Are you going to kiss me now?”

  “Now, and all the way up the stairs.” He flashed his dimples. “Only maybe this time you should walk. I have the feeling I’d better conserve my energy.”

  EPILOGUE

  KERRY HUMMED AS she bent over the row of geraniums, separating the brown leaves from the ruffled scarlet blooms. She dropped the offending leaves in the pail at her feet and moved farther down the bench, enjoying the slight breeze from the fans overhead, and the mingled scents of soil, sun-warmed plastic and nutmeg.

  When she reached the end of the bench, she straightened, placed her hands at the base of her spine and stretched. “Oh, that feels good.”

  She turned toward the entrance to the Quonset hut, and admired the lush rows of rainbow-colored blooms between her and the door. Luckily, they were rows she’d already inspected. Once she finished in here, she’d be helping her father load up one of the trucks. Pansies and petunias, headed for a high-end grocery store, where her dad always treated her to a mocha latte. After that, she’d finish her day in the potting shed Parker used as an office, updating the database system she’d created to track pretty much every aspect of the Macfarlands’ business.

  No day was the same, and Kerry enjoyed the unpredictability of that. She enjoyed even more the opportunity to work with her dad, who continually impressed her with how much he knew about things like vegetative propagation and castings and perlite.

  But most of all, she enjoyed the fact that she spent the majority of every day with the sun no farther away than a quick lift of her chin.

  And all because of that cup of coffee she’d finally shared with Liz. The more they talked, the more they’d realized they would both be much happier if they simply traded jobs. Now Kerry worked full-time for Castle Creek Growers, and Liz and Ruthie both worked for Snoozy, alternating shifts so neither was stuck closing the bar every night.

  She bent to pick up her bucket of castoffs and heard the scrape of boots on concrete behind her. “Coming, Dad,” she said, but when she turned, it was Gil walking toward her, their six-month-old baby girl tucked upright against his chest.

  “There’s Mommy,” he said. “Say ‘Hi, Mommy. How are you, Mommy?’”

  “Ga,” said Chloe, and shook the caterpillar teething toy her grandfather had given her.

  Kerry shared an eye roll with Gil. Figured their kid would try to say “Grandpa” before “Mommy” or “Daddy.” With Eugenia’s wholehearted support, Harris was spoiling Chloe rotten.

  Kerry, too. Her father had insisted on giving her and Gil his little brick house. More precious than that, he and Eugenia had both eagerly given their blessing when Kerry had expressed her desire to name her baby after Kerry’s mother.

  “Hello, sweetie.” Kerry covered her daughter’s face with kisses, then lifted her mouth for an adult kiss from Gil. His lips lingered on hers, and as much as she loved her job, she suddenly couldn’t wait to be back home, sandwiched on the couch between Chloe and Gil.

  “This is a nice surprise,” she said huskily.

  He grinned. “We thought we’d join you for lunch. Chloe insisted on dressing up for you.”

  “I can see that.” Kerry eyed the orange and yellow striped sundress that sported a large green stain. “You do remember what a bib is, right?”

  “Hey, if I hadn’t been wearing it at the time, we’d both be advertising strained peas.”

  “Very funny.”

  He went into bounce mode when Chloe started to fuss. “Okay if I take her to the poker game tomorrow night? The guys say it’s been too long since they’ve seen her.”

  Kerry turned Gil around and guided her family toward the door. She was getting hungry. “You mean my dad twisted your arm.”

  “Not your dad. Seth.”

  “Uncle Seth. He hears you leaving off the ‘uncle,’ he’ll make you ride Hubbard Ridge twice. In the rain. Blindfolded.”

  “True.” Gil pulled a cloth from his pocket and wiped the drool off his daughter’s chin. “Dylan’s going to be there, too.”

  “At Hubbard Ridge?”

  “At your dad’s.”

  “Dylan plays poker?”

  Gil shook his head. “He has a trig test Wednesday. Wants me to give him extra problems to work out. I get to check his answers between hands.”

  Kerry adjusted Chloe’s hat before they stepped out of the hut and into the summer sun. They headed for the picnic table under a massive oak tree, where Kerry and Harris usually ate lunch.

  “Dylan is determined, you have to give him that,” Kerry said. “Has he mentioned anything about his situation at home?”

  “He doesn’t talk about it much. But it has to be hard. With his brother moved out and his father spending his evenings staring at the TV, it’s quieter than ever.” Cooing to Chloe softly, he shifted her to his other arm. “I talked to Mom today. She’s definitely coming up next month for the community center dedication.”

  “I’m so glad she can make it. What about Ferrell?”

  “I talked to him, too.”

  Kerry watched Gil closely as she settled on the bench, her back to the table. “He actually took your call?”

  Gil handed the baby to Kerry and settled on the bench beside them. Chloe became instantly enamored with the buttons on her mother’s shirt.

  “What did he say?” Kerry asked.

  “He told me I had no right to put any conditions on his share from the sale of the store.”

  “And you said?”

  “That he’d already spent his inheritance and to consider what I promised him a bonus for staying sober.”

  Chloe started to wiggle. Kerry picked her up and bounced her, lifting her higher every time her toes touched Kerry’s knees. The sputtering giggles made it clear Chloe was liking this game.

  “Think Ferrell can do it?”

  Gil shrugged. “We’ll find out in a year.”

  “I think he can do it.”

  Slowly, one of Gil’s dimples appeared. “That’s why I love you.”

  “There she is. There’s my Chloe girl.” Harris ambled toward them, his smile as wide as his head was bald. He held out his hands as he approached, and Chloe’s bouncing took on a whole new level of manic.

  “Good to see you, son,” Harris said to Gil, but he never looked away from Chloe.

  “Dad.” Kerry surrendered her daughter. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  “Like what?” He danced Chloe away, and both giggled like loons when he turned in a circle.

  Gil shook his head. “He keeps that up and he’s going to earn his own green stain.”

  “Lunch, Dad.” Kerry’s stomach grumbled. “It’s your turn to bring lunch.”

  “Oh. Right.” Harris shot Gil a look. “I left it in Parker’s fridge. There’s enough for all of us. I’ll go get it. You two wait here.”

  Kerry leaned to the side and rested her head on Gil’s shoulder. “If he’s not back in five minutes, I’m going after him. I bet you ten bucks he’s going to fall asleep with her in Reid’s recliner.” She blinked, soothed by the mild heat of the sun and t
he gentle drone of a nearby insect. Maybe a nap wasn’t such a bad idea.

  Gil kissed her hair. “You know, you and I, we have a pretty perfect life. A gorgeous daughter, good friends, our families are healing, our jobs are satisfying.”

  “In six months, anyway, when you get your teaching license.”

  “I don’t know. It’s been pretty satisfying, helping to turn the hardware store into a community center. Cathartic, you know?”

  Kerry nodded lazily. “Don’t forget we have a lake view from the house.”

  “Right on.”

  “And furniture that might be secondhand but at least isn’t plaid.”

  “Sing it.”

  “And we do happen to be crazy about each other.”

  “QED.”

  Kerry sat up and scrunched her nose. “What does that mean?”

  “Quod Erat Demonstrandum.” Gil brushed the hair out of her face. “‘That which was to be demonstrated.’ It’s used to mark the end of a mathematical proof.”

  She laughed. “You are such a nerd.”

  “And you are beautiful.” He picked up her hand and kissed it. “You’re also creative and smart and giving, and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  Tears sprang into her eyes as she interlaced her fingers with his. “That’s not fair of you to go all serious on me. But thank you.” With a sniffle, she tipped her head. “I suppose you’d like me to return the favor.”

  “If it’s not too much trouble.”

  She stared into his gorgeous brown eyes. Eyes their daughter had inherited, along with Kerry’s thick hair and plump cheeks. “Gil Cooper, you’ve been watching out for me since the moment we met. You’re sexy and funny and brilliant, and I don’t deserve you, but I’m looking forward to spending the rest of my life trying.”

  “I’d correct you on that don’t deserve you thing, but I like the sound of all that trying you plan to do.”

  Their mouths met, and just as Kerry leaned in to take the kiss deeper, her stomach growled. She shot upright and frowned toward the house.

  “I should go in there,” she said.

  “Hey.” Gil shook their joined hands. “There’s something I... Kerry. Kerry?”

  “What do you think he’s doing in there?”

  “Pay attention,” Gil demanded.

  Slowly she turned and gave him an oh, no, you didn’t look. “You know what, you already sound like a teacher.”

  “You mentioned the rest of our lives.”

  “Which won’t be very long if we don’t eat soon.”

  He gazed at her sternly. “Kerry Mae.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m listening. The rest of our lives. You were saying?”

  “That I’d like to spend them married. To you,” he hastened to add.

  “Gil,” she breathed. She clutched the edge of the bench.

  “We talked about it once,” he said, his deep voice serrated with nerves. “I know you said you wanted to wait until things settled down, but I don’t think things are going to get any more settled than they are now.” He fished in the front pocket of his jeans and with a triumphant grin held up an emerald solitaire ring. “Seth was convinced I’d lose it.”

  He shifted off the bench and onto his left knee. “Kerry Mae Endicott, I’ll be the happiest man in Castle Creek if you’ll do me the honor of becoming my wife. Will you please marry me?”

  “Gilbert Wayne Cooper, you are full of surprises.” She laughed and cried and hiccupped, and dropped down onto the ground in front of him. “And the honor will be all mine.”

  He slid the ring onto her finger, then wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight to his chest.

  Above them the maple leaves fluttered in gentle applause. The steady thump of Gil’s heart against hers and the joyful trill of Chloe’s giggles in the distance filled Kerry’s soul with a healing bliss she’d never take for granted.

  “Thank you for believing in me,” she whispered into his neck.

  “Thank you,” he said. “For showing me how.”

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from THE BILLIONAIRE’S SON by Sharon Hartley.

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  The Billionaire's Son

  by Sharon Hartley

  CHAPTER ONE

  HER STRIDES LONG and sure, Kelly Jenkins picked up her speed as she turned into Peacock Park, confident she was on pace to beat her old time. Jazzed because she hadn’t scored a personal best on her favorite morning run in months—not since she’d entered the police academy—Kelly pushed harder. That was the key to success.

  The shade of the public pavilion with its promise of cool water came into view, but she refused to risk a glance down to her wrist chronometer. She might lose a second or two. Patience was another path to success. She’d know within two minutes.

  “Mommy!”

  As the terrified wail of a small child registered, Kelly turned her head and spotted a young boy running toward her as fast as his little legs could churn. Two men chased him. She slowed her stride just before the child flung his arms around her thighs.

  “Mommy,” he sobbed. “Mommy, Mommy.”

  Knocked off balance, Kelly windmilled her arms to keep herself from falling and stared down at the boy clutching her as if she were a lifeline, guessing he was about four years old.

  Before she could say anything, like “Hey, kid, I’m not your mom,” the two men arrived.

  “Sorry, lady,” one of them said, a rough-looking dude who hadn’t shaved in days. Tats covered both forearms, and Kelly recognized the insignia of a local gang, but couldn’t remember which one. Greasy brown hair hung to his shoulders. There was a gun-size bulge in his jeans pocket that worried her.

  “I’ll take the kid,” he snarled.

  “No,” the boy shrieked, clutching her legs tighter, sharp fingernails digging into her bare thigh. “No! Mommy, no.”

  Her cop instincts slamming into gear, Kelly reached down and picked up the child. “What’s your name, sweetie?”

  “His name is Jason,” the man said, his voice hard, with an underlying edge of threat. “I’m his father. Hand him over.”

  His entire little body trembling violently, Jason buried his face in Kelly’s shoulder, turning away from his “father.”

  “This child is terrified of you,” Kelly said.

  “Yeah, well, that’s none of your concern, lady. Just give m
e the kid.”

  Kelly hesitated, assessing the two men. The second man was thin and shorter than the so-called father, but she noted a resemblance between the two. Same hair and cheekbones. Maybe brothers. The brother looked like he’d spent several years on the streets while this child was well nourished and wore expensive clothing. Something is wrong here.

  “My name is Kelly Jenkins,” she said, “I’m a police officer.”

  “Damn. She’s a cop, Adam,” the second man said.

  “Jason seems very confused,” Kelly continued. “Is there anything that I can do to—”

  Adam took a step forward, his arms out to snatch the child. “I don’t give a rat’s ass who you are. Just give me the damn kid.”

  Jason looped the straps of Kelly’s jog bra through his tiny fingers and squeezed tight. “No, Mommy,” he managed, now barely able to get the words out.

  When Adam placed his hands on either side of Jason’s waist, Jason wailed loudly and shrilly. Kelly stepped back, noting fellow runners had gathered to observe the unfolding scenario.

  Wishing she’d been a cop longer than two months, Kelly debated her next move. Maybe it takes a village, but I have no right to keep a son from his father.

  Yet the gangbanger only referred to Jason as “the kid,” never “my son.” And he never once spoke to the child directly, tried to soothe him or comfort him. What kind of a father acts like that?

  “Is this your daddy?” Kelly whispered to Jason.

  His face bright red, his screams now diminished to great gulping sobs, the child shook his head emphatically no. He locked his feet around her waist.

  “Shit,” the smaller man said. “Get the kid, Adam. We gotta get out of here pronto.”

  “Adam, right?” Kelly asked, deliberately using the name. Always good to make it personal. “Where is his mother?”

  “Yeah, good question,” said a female jogger Kelly didn’t know by name but waved at every day.

  “None of your fricking business,” Adam said. “Give me the kid, or else.”