“When were you going to tell me?” he asked then, his voice soft, curious.

She froze against him, almost holding her breath as he flattened his palm over their future children.

“What do you mean?”

He had to grin. He couldn’t be angry. He’d be damned if he could blame her.

“When, my love, were you going to tell me you were pregnant?”

He let her go as she pulled from him and sat up, turning to stare down at him as he watched her with such a surfeit of emotion that she felt humbled by it.

“How did you know?” she whispered, those emerald green eyes wide, surprised. “I just found out myself. I haven’t even told anyone.”

“I’ve known for a while,” he revealed, watching her face, seeing the fear that shadowed her eyes now. “Do you think I’m here because of it?” he growled. “Come on, Lyrica . . .”

“I just want to know how you knew.” She slapped back the hand that would have stroked over her thigh.

Graham grinned at the move, staring up at her, god, loving her.

“I’ll make a deal with you,” he suggested.

Her eyes narrowed. “What kind of deal?”

“Marry me, and I’ll tell you how I know we’re going to have twins. A little boy with a blend of Brock and Mackay looks, and a little girl who’s going to be the very image of her mother. If I have to listen to Natches crow over how much she looks like him, then I’m at least going to have a ring on your finger so he can’t influence them too much.”

She blinked.

Her lips parted, then closed.

“Twins?” She sounded as though she couldn’t breathe.

“Twins,” he promised. “Marry me, Lyrica. Don’t make me sleep alone, without you, again. Don’t let me go another day without you in my life.”

Tears filled her eyes then. A smile filled her face.

“Tell me how you know it’s twins.”

He chuckled wickedly. “Not until you say ‘I do’ . . .”

To which she smiled back at him knowingly. “I’ll say ‘I do,’ but only if you tell me what your mother told you before you left for the Marines.”

For a second, surprise glittered in his gaze before it softened. He reached out to brush back the strands of hair that lay at the side of her face.

“How bad do you want to know?” he chuckled then.

“Just tell me,” she groaned. “It’s been driving me crazy.”

His expression gentled then, fond memories reflecting in his eyes as he thought of his mother.

“She told me to make sure I came home safe, with my soul intact,” he said softly. “Because without the soul, the heart can’t survive. And if I didn’t understand what that meant, then I would understand the first time I stared into the eyes of the woman who would hold my heart. And she was right. That first summer I met you, Lyrica. Standing on that dock at the marina, staring at me with equal parts innocence and a woman’s knowledge, I felt you sink inside me like sunlight. But I knew even then, sweetheart, it wasn’t time. Not for me. Not for you. When the time came, I was just too stubborn, and too damned terrified of how much you meant to me, to realize it.”

“I always loved you, Graham,” she whispered. “I always will.”

“You’re my life.” And she saw it in his eyes, in his expression. “Without you, I’d never be complete.”

He would be in a world without color, alone, staring into a void.

With her, he was all he was meant to be.

He was meant to be hers.

EPILOGUE

August – One month later

Zoey Mackay sat at the edge of the water as the small waves lapped at the bank, mere inches from her bare feet. With her legs bent, her arms wrapped around them, her chin resting atop her knees, she watched as the sun began to descend along the top of the mountains surrounding her brother Dawg’s home.

She could hear the voices behind her, many raised in laughter as the Mackay family, relations, and friends came together. The family reunion grew every year. And it seemed to last longer every year as well.

Dawg’s sprawling backyard was filled. Tables laid out with every food imaginable, the smell of hot dogs grilling, the sound of children playing in the pool rather than romping in the shallow water close to the bank, echoed around her.

The pool was safer for the kids, Dawg had remarked.

Not to mention a hell of a lot cleaner.

It was the usual sounds of the Mackay yearly get-together, and once again, Zoey found herself on the outside looking in.

She’d been on the outside looking in since they’d arrived in Somerset. Never quite comfortable. Never quite certain when her past would catch up with her, when it would destroy her life and hurt everyone she loved.

She’d tried, she thought. She’d tried to fix it, but the price had been far too high. She couldn’t fix one betrayal by creating another, could she? She couldn’t betray her brother, her cousins. Her sisters. That was the price of freedom, and realizing that she couldn’t pay that price was destroying her.

“Hey, munchkin. What are you doing out here by yourself?” The question came as bare feet stepped up beside her, the ragged edge of a pair of men’s jeans brushing against the sand.

“Nothing. Just watching the sun set.” She moved to get up.

“Please don’t, Zoey.” Dawg touched her shoulder as he moved to sit next to her, his larger body dwarfing hers. “Here, have a beer.”

He extended the chilled bottle as Zoey turned to him warily.

“Thank you.” Accepting the bottle, she turned back to the lake and took a sip before sitting it on the sand next to the nearly full beer her cousin Natches had given her earlier. That bottle was sitting next to the soft drink Rowdy had brought her.

What was up with all the drinks anyway?

“You know,” he sighed, long minutes later, “when you and your sisters first arrived at the marina, I had a second I wished Chandler was still breathing so I could kill him myself. Especially when I saw you. All that wariness and fear in your eyes . . .”

“Do we really need to go over this, Dawg?” She sighed. “We’re here, we’re safe. It’s over.”

That usually managed to get him to back off. At least for a few months.

“Yes we do, little girl, and by god, this time you can give me the courtesy of looking at me while I’m talking to you,” he ordered, his tone lowering, darkening, causing her to jerk around and stare at him in surprise.

This was not the gentle giant she was used to. Dawg never spoke sharply to his sisters. Ever.

“What did I do?” She frowned back at him.

Dawg wiped his hand over his face before staring back at her, the firm, commanding look giving way to a loving exasperation that always made her feel as though she had no chance of measuring up.

“You didn’t come to me,” he answered then, and for a second she saw a flash of pain in his eyes. “Even your sisters come to me when they need me. But when it was important, you didn’t do that, Zoey.”

God, no. He couldn’t know. There was no way he knew.

She jumped to her feet, aware that he was moving just as quickly. So quickly that as she moved to rush past him, he still managed to get to his feet and catch her by her arm. Gently.

“Let me go.” Pushing the words past clenched teeth as she refused to look at him, Zoey fought back the anger, the betrayal she’d kept a handle on for four years now.

“Why didn’t you come to me, Zoey?” he questioned her, the command in his tone once again. “Why didn’t you tell me what was going on instead of hating us . . .”