The excited edge to Xander’s voice wasn’t doing much for Ian’s peace of mind, but he pushed himself through the steps. Check the anvil, check the forge, check the—

“Sorry, sorry.” Darcy’s laughing apology made him spin around to see her stumbling up the driveway, one hand pushing a stroller loaded with toys, the other curled around the baby bouncing on her hip. Lulu must have led her on a merry chase. The neck of Darcy’s blouse veered way over to the side, and her shoulder-length, cinnamon-brown hair curled in every direction. She was a flustered mess, but as always, seeing her made him grin. Even despite Xander’s presence.

“I thought I had a good grip on Lu,” she called as she approached. “But Cady decided Mommy was overdressed and yanked my blouse half off, and I had to either switch the leash or risk arrest for public indecency. But I messed up and she got away and I—”

She stopped just behind Lulu, the hand that had been pushing the stroller rising to shield her eyes as she peered into the shadowy garage. Her cheeks turned as pink as Cady’s ruffled sun hat, which had slipped backward, exposing the pale blond head it was supposed to protect.

“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t realize you had company.”

“It’s okay.” He walked over to her, automatically taking Cady as she launched herself into his arms.

Xander pushed upright. “Hey, Darcy,” he called as he ambled into the light. “Long time no—”

He stopped abruptly. Darcy’s eyes flew open and she reached across Ian’s chest until her hand landed on Cady’s thigh. A small sound slipped free, one he couldn’t identify because he’d never heard it before, but his gut told him it wasn’t good, especially when she stepped closer to him. His arm went around her shoulders.

Lulu whimpered.

“Darce?” Xander’s voice was filled with confusion and uncertainty and something that sounded like shock. This was more than a simple greeting. What the hell?

Xander shuffled forward as if he’d forgotten how to walk. Darcy pressed closer to Ian. His arm tightened protectively.

As Xander emerged into the sunshine, the light glinted off his very blond hair. Hair that was a perfect match for that on the head now resting against Ian’s chest. The tiny head of the wriggling child who had just celebrated her first birthday.

Two years ago—oh, pardon me, not that long but I don’t feel like doing the math—

All of a sudden the math took on a terrifying significance.

“Ian?” Darcy whispered. “Would you take Cady inside, please? Xander and I need to talk.”

* * *

DARCY MAGUIRE HAD always considered herself a woman of action. In her life BC—Before Cady—there had never been a disaster she couldn’t work around, including the time a blizzard had stood between her mother and a major performance. All that had taken was an hour on the phone, a fistful of money and a snowplow driver willing to serve as a taxi.

If only this could be that easy.

Ian did as she asked without so much as a blink, settling Cady on his shoulder and whistling for Lulu to follow him to the house.

Seeing him holding Cady was a welcome anchor. The rest of her world might be falling apart at the stitched-with-secrets seams, but her little girl was safe and happy in the best possible hands.

Ian had been blindsided. He was probably going to be hurt that she hadn’t trusted him with the truth about Cady’s paternity. But as she watched him walk away, she held tight to the fact that no matter how much she might bungle the next few minutes, Ian would make sure Cady was fed and diapered and kept laughing. This one little corner of the world would be fine.

Meaning Darcy had no excuse to put off the conversation waiting to pounce on her.

At the muffled slam of the screen door, she risked a look at Xander. His blue-gray eyes stayed fixed on the steps that Ian and Cady had mounted. She tugged her neckline and hoped everything was back in place. She didn’t want to find out she’d conducted the most important conversation of her life with a wardrobe malfunction.

Assured that she was as decent as was possible, she pulled herself upright. “Let’s go out back.”

Xander dragged his understandably blank gaze from the steps to her. She led him to the yard and the picnic table where two summers ago she, Ian and Xander had whiled away long summer evenings with a few beers and a lot of laughs. Maybe the vibrations of that laughter still lingered here. Maybe they would make it possible for her and Xander to get through...whatever...with the same purpose: to do what was best for her—their—daughter.

Dear God, she hoped she could do a better job of navigating Cady through whatever came next than her own mother had done for her.

While Xander straddled the bench, Darcy climbed onto the patio table, settling under the shade offered by the bright blue umbrella Ian had added the previous summer. Babies shouldn’t get too much sun, he had said when she’d come home from the hospital with her newborn. And you can’t put sunblock on them, but I know you’ll want to sit outside with her. I thought this might make it easier.

Maybe she shouldn’t have sent Ian away with Cady. For the past year he had been the one she’d looked to whenever she was sure she was screwing up this parenting gig, which usually happened at least twice a day. Every time he would laugh and tell her she was doing fine, and when she would insist that this time she had really blown it, he would shake his head, grin and say, “Just trust me, Darce.”

She really wished she could see him now, rolling his crinkly bronze eyes in the way that meant he thought she was being a total dork but he knew she would figure it out.

“So...” She sandwiched her hands between her bent knees. If she couldn’t see them trembling, she might be less nervous. “I know you must have a lot of questions, but this will probably be easier if you let me talk first, okay?”

His slow nod was chased by a swifter shake of the head. “Wait. First. I— Is she— That baby. She’s really...?”

His question hung in the air between them, unfinished but no less decisive. Once she answered him, she knew the life she had built—her and Cady with a big side of Ian—was all going to change. And most of it would depend on Xander. Someone not family. Someone she knew far less than she should.

It was a feeling she knew all too well, and it was no more welcome now than it had been in the past. Except now it was worse, because it was going to impact Cady.

She took a deep breath. Facts first. Future later.

“Yes.” Damnation, her hands were still quivering. Clamping her knees tighter—right, Maguire, now you remember to keep your knees closed—she forced out the words she’d been dreading for the past year and eight months. “Yes, Xander. She’s your daughter.”

Somewhere nearby a bird let loose with a delighted trill. Talk about surreal. First Xander reappeared, now her life was turning into a frickin’ Disney princess adventure complete with animals performing on cue.

“Holy...”

She knew the feeling. On that morning a lifetime ago, when she had finally dragged her gaze away from the test stick in her hand to stare at herself in the bathroom mirror, she had seen that same horror-movie expression now appearing on Xander’s face. Yet when she looked closely, she saw in his eyes that same contradictory hint of amazement that had gripped her, as well. That had to be a good sign. Right?

“I did try to find you. To tell you,” she added quickly. “But Ian said he hadn’t heard from you since you left, and I—”

“Wait a minute.” He backed up an inch or so. “We only— It was just that one night. Once.”

She didn’t need to remind him that one drunken night and one ancient condom didn’t always add up to zero consequences.

“And you were with what’s-his-name, the jerk who dumped you—”