But when someone knocked on the door five minutes later, he yanked it open, his heart in his throat.

And there she was. Ivy.

He blinked but she didn’t disappear. Not a hallucination. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d imagined her since he’d left Shady Grove. He’d catch a glimpse of blond hair, and his heart would stop. He’d hear a husky voice, and he’d think she was near. But it was always just his overactive imagination, conjuring her up, torturing him with the memory or her.

He wished he could forget about her, but she carried his baby. They would be tied together for the rest of their lives.

The Ivy before him was bigger and rounder than the one who’d worn his shirt as he’d begged her to love him.

She was real and she was here.

Shit.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked lowly, roughly.

“I came as soon as I heard,” she said. “How’s Zach?”

Clinton wanted to break down, wanted to lose himself in the fact that she was here. She might not love him, but she was here. For him. But he couldn’t. He had to be strong. “He might not pull through,” he told her blandly. He didn’t want her sympathy, though it filled her eyes. “He’s lost his right arm above the elbow and his right leg above the knee. He has massive internal injuries and a head injury. He’s...” C.J. had to stop to collect himself. “It’s touch and go each and every goddamn hour.”

His brother might die, and there was nothing C.J. could do to stop it. To help him. To save him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her hand over her mouth. “Clinton, I’m so, so sorry.”

She reached for him, and for a moment, he wanted to let her take him into her arms, wanted to rest his head on her shoulder and just hold her. But he couldn’t. He didn’t trust her. He’d given her his heart, and she’d tossed it back at him.

He stepped back. Told himself he shouldn’t feel bad at how crushed she looked as she slowly lowered her arms. “You shouldn’t have come,” he told her.

“I couldn’t stay away. You need me.”

Her words blew through him. “I needed you three weeks ago,” he reminded her. “I got over it.”

“Don’t say that.” She glanced down the empty hall. “Could I...could I come in?”

“You’re asking to come in? Given up breaking and entering?”

She held his gaze. “I am asking. I’m asking you to let me in, Clinton. Please.”

He couldn’t refuse her even when he wished he could. When he knew it would be better for him, less painful, to turn her away. With a sigh, he stepped aside. She brushed past him. She smelled the same, the familiar scent hitting him like a left jab. Her hair was down, falling in soft waves around her shoulders. She wore a deep burgundy top that molded to her stomach, high-heeled boots and jeans so tight, he had no idea how she’d even got them on her very pregnant frame.

Women and their endlessly fascinating mysteries.

He’d no sooner shut the door behind her when she shoved something at him. “Here,” she said, pressing an envelope into his hand. “This is for you.”

He frowned. Something told him not to open it but he couldn’t contain his curiosity.

“It’s a check,” she blurted.

“I can see that.” It was, indeed, a check. One drawn on her personal checking account made out to him for the amount of fifty thousand dollars. He put it back in the envelope, held it out to her. “I don’t want it.”

“I figured as much but I need you to take it.”

“Why? So you won’t owe me anything? So you won’t feel indebted to me?”

“So we can start over.”

He froze. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Didn’t trust what she was saying.

“I...I made a mistake,” she continued. “I was so scared when you asked me to move here with you, when you said you were falling in love with me, so terrified when you brought up marriage and the future. I pushed you away because I was scared.”

He narrowed his eyes, not daring to hope. “What are you saying?”

She inhaled deeply, rested her hands on her belly. “I miss you. I miss you so much I can barely breathe. I think about you all the time, and knowing I lost you because of my fear kills me. Please give me a second chance.”

He wanted to. It was pathetic how desperately he wanted to take her into his arms and tell her not to worry about it, that he was willing to take whatever scraps she would give him. But he had his pride, and his pride had always been his downfall. “I can’t, Ivy. I don’t want to be with you on weekends or several times a month. I want more than that. I deserve more than that and so do you and our child.”

“You’re right. It just took me some time to realize that. And I realize you might not forgive me, but I’m here to ask you to give me a second chance. I’m...I’m asking you to give me your heart, Clinton,” she said quietly, her voice unsteady. “I promise if you do, this time I’ll cherish it. And I’ll do my best to never hurt you again.”

He stared at her, wanting desperately to believe her but afraid to take that chance. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t form the words to tell her to go. To beg her to stay.

“Please,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes. “Please forgive me, Clinton. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I’m so sorry I lied to you after I told you I wouldn’t.”

“You lied?”

She sniffed. Nodded. “I told you I didn’t know if I could fall in love with you, but I already do love you. I love you. So much. I’ve never said that to anyone before, never thought I could feel for someone the way I feel about you. Please don’t walk away from me again.”

He was shaken to his core. He could see the truth of her words in her eyes. She loved him. She. Loved. Him. He’d gotten his second chance.

Thank God.

He took her in his arms and held on tight. He never wanted to let go. “I love you, too, Ivy. Please stay with me. Be mine.”

She nodded and hugged him hard. “I’m yours. Always.”

The baby kicked, and they both laughed. Then he kissed her and knew he’d found his perfect partner, his best friend and the woman he was going to love until the end of his days.

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from A FAMILY COME TRUE by Kris Fletcher.

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CHAPTER ONE

THE MAN HOVERING at the entry to Ian North’s garage was very tall, very blond, and very late.

“Hey, Ian. Long time no see.”

“Xander?” Ian tugged his work gloves from his hands and set them on the anvil where, moments earlier, he had been happily pounding the hell out of a piece of hot iron while singing along to some vintage Queen. With a glance to make sure everything in his home forge could be safely ignored for a few minutes, he ventured toward his old college roommate. “What are you doing back here?”

Xander pulled sunglasses from his face and hooked them casually over the neck of his silky black tee. “I came to get my dog.”

“Your dog? Are you nuts?” Thank God Lulu was having a late-afternoon visit to the park with his landlady and her daughter. “She’s not yours anymore, buddy.”