“Dammit!” Abby swore as she stumbled inside the darkened apartment. Kick-ass heels, huh? More like flat on her ass heels. “Good for nothing garbage,” she muttered, glaring at the broken shoe dangling from her fingertips. She pulled the other heel off and tossed both shoes onto the sofa as she leaned forward to turn the lamp on the end table on. “ golly !” she screamed when her hand came in contact with something warm, fuzzy, and breathing. “You little beast,” she glared at the purring black furball accusingly once the lamp was turned on, “don’t scare the one who feeds you and cloth…uh, feeds you and scoops your litterbox like that. You don’t want to be an outside cat, do you?” Lucky rolled over onto his back, presenting his stomach to her to be scratched. “All right, you little monster,” she grumbled as she complied with the kitten’s demand for affection, “but don’t expect me to be at your beck and call. Where’s Gray Eyes, huh?” Abby sighed as she slid the spaghetti straps of her dress off her shoulders as best she could manage with one free hand. “Peeping Tom,” she rolled her twinkling hazel eyes at the animal as it proceeded to watch her peel the dress from her body and stroll toward her bedroom in just her lingerie. Did she WANT Gray Eyes to come home from his ‘other plans’ early and find her in nothing but a pair of crimson lace undies? She wasn’t afraid to tempt fate sometimes, she reasoned as she picked Nick’s gray sweatshirt—strike that—HER gray sweatshirt up from its customary place across the armchair beside her bed and slipped it over her tawny head as she padded into the kitchen in her bare feet.

This Valentine’s Day, from a romantic entanglement standpoint, was going down in the history books as one of the biggest, no…THE biggest disappointment she’d suffered since junior high. Contrary to what she’d said at the party to Noah earlier in the day, she was enjoying the hell out of being flirted with…even more so tonight. Until she’d introduced the guy to a certain green-eyed nurse just crazy enough to agree to chaperone the Dance too. You asked for it, Abby, the nagging voice inside her head reminded her. “Some kind of something going on there,” she muttered, opening the freezer and taking out the tried and true salve for her heart problems since her first major break-up. Eric Marguiles in the 7th grade dumping her for Meghan Nixon—the twelve-year-old with big boobs and perfect, straight, pearly-white teeth—without the aid of braces. “Slut,” Abby growled in memory, foregoing a bowl and deciding to eat the ice cream from the container. It always tasted better that way anyway. Midway through her self-thrown pity party, anger welled up within her and she slammed the carton of ice cream down on the kitchen counter. “Other plans, and he almost kisses ME?” she huffed, stalking toward the punching bag hanging from the ceiling in one corner of the apartment. “Other plans?” Translation…I don’t want YOU. I don’t want to spend time with YOU. The bag was unyielding beneath her fists, and she grunted in frustration as she pounded it harder, imagining it was Gray Eyes’s torso after another round of ‘I want you…no, I’m sorry…I don’t want you.’ The sleeves of the gray sweatshirt swallowed her fists and arms whenever she struck out, irritating her more, and she’d be hard-pressed to identify a time when she was more pissed off than the moment she heard his footsteps behind her, his voice so close to her ear, his hand on her shoulder. Which might explain what happened next…

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Luis murmured against Sheridan’s brow as they gently swayed to the music filling their living room. “Leaving the Seascape and coming home?” Sheridan answered back softly, her lips brushing his ear as she spoke. “Luis…I’m fine with this,” she pulled back to look at his face. “You don’t have to take me to fancy balls and go through so much trouble to make me happy. I’m happiest right here. In this living room. Dancing in my bare feet. Alone with the man that I’ll love until the day I die,” she whispered sincerely. “But you knew all these things. Didn’t you?” she breathed, resting her forehead against his as they nuzzled noses and moved lips tenderly against each other. “You wanted me out of the house. Why?” Luis trailed his knuckles across Sheridan’s silky cheek, smiling into her blue eyes as his other hand pressed at the small of her back and the slight swell of her pregnant belly met his abdomen. “You don’t miss anything, do you? I needed a little bit of help with my surprise for you. Only it wouldn’t have been a surprise…if we hadn’t made an appearance at the Valentine’s Ball,” he told her. “Luis,” Sheridan laughed, “are you implying that you can’t trust me?” “To keep a surprise a surprise? Of course not,” he teased, rubbing his thumb against the peek-a-boo patch of warm skin the red dress revealed at the base of her spine. “That’s why I asked Mama and Papa for help,” he grinned as he entwined their hands and gently pulled her in the direction of their bedroom. “Luis,” Sheridan balked right outside their bedroom door, “You asked Pilar and Martin to…” “Sheridan,” Luis chuckled at her stricken expression at the thought of his mother or father even stepping foot inside their bedroom. “Mama and Papa were just here to supervise when the delivery guy came,” he reassured her. “We’re adults, we love each other, and we’re married…Mama and Papa KNOW they’re not keeping Ali and Cristian so we can play Scrabble,” Luis teased, oddly pleased he could still make his wife blush. He captured her wrist before she could bring her hand in contact with his chest in a playful shove and pulled her body close to his own as his free hand twisted the doorknob and pushed their bedroom door open. “Deliveryman…” Luis watched her expressive face, her blue eyes begin to sparkle with happiness and tears as looked inside their bedroom.

Flowers. Flowers of every kind and color imaginable filled every crook and cranny of their bedroom. Roses of the deepest red hues, roses of every shade of pink, most vivid yellows and oranges, and purest white filled the bedroom with their fragrant scent. Sheridan’s mouth hung open in amazement as she discovered more flowers—tulips, forget-me-nots, and carnations. “Are you trying to tell me something, Luis?” Sheridan laughed softly as she fingered the tiny blue forget-me-nots. “Luis, this must have cost…” Luis shook his head and quieted her with a finger to her lips. Sheridan pressed a kiss to that finger, letting him seat her on their bed. She watched him with shimmering blue eyes as he crossed the bedroom to their armoire and retrieved an old, wooden box. Luis smiled at the question in her eyes as she took the box from him and carefully lifted the lid. Sheridan’s hands trembled as she held a small, white card with tattered edges. “The minute I heard my first love story, I started looking for you…,” she read, pausing when her voice got thick with tears, ”…lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They’re in each other all along.” Luis cupped her jaw with one big brown hand and smiled into her eyes. “I wish I could take credit, but the words aren’t mine. Only the feelings behind them. There’s more,” he told her, leaving her side once more as she removed another card from the box. She raised a hand to her mouth, girlish giggles escaping her lips as she read the ‘Snoopy’ Valentine. “Snoopy, Luis? Somehow I can’t picture you or Hank with Snoopy Valentines.” Luis grinned, approaching her with a hand behind his back. “I tried to find a card I would have given you as a five-year-old, but there weren’t any ‘GI Joe’ cards anywhere.” Her blue eyes lit up with mirth as he knelt at her feet and presented her with a tiny bouquet of daisies. “I didn’t have any problem finding these though.” “You were such a romantic five-year-old,” she teased, taking the cheerful flowers between her fingers and lifting them to her nose. “What else is in there, Luis? That box is full.” “Valentines for you,” he answered, picking through the box until he found what he wanted…a card with hearts and flowers, bordering on true sappiness. A Valentine chosen quickly because of the embarrassment of actually giving a girl a gift and grudgingly given from one 8th grader to another. Her smile lit up the room, far outshining the softly flickering candles’ light when Luis handed her the accompanying teddy bear, and she hugged it to her chest, leaning down brush her mouth against his. Valentines for each year were in the box, and he wanted her to see and read every one. Later. But there was one in particular he needed to give her. THIS year’s Valentine. He handed her the love letter and watched her read it with his heart in his throat as the soft music from the living room reached his ears—a woman singing of her own Valentine. When she lifted her glistening azure eyes to his face, he could see straight through to her heart. “Oh, Luis…”

“The baby clothes can go here,” Theresa waved her arm in the general direction of the right side of the building as he pulled out her chair for her for the second time that evening, and Chad could no longer hide his smile. For the last hour or so, she’d chattered on and on about her plans. He took that as a definite appreciation for his gift. “Chad, this is the best Valentine’s Day gift,” she beamed at him. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome,” he told her as he handed her a plate full of food, fixing his own plate and setting it down. “But it’s not a Valentine’s gift.” Brown eyes full of confusion stared at him as he grinned nervously at her and felt around in his jacket pocket. “It’s a different kind of present. One I hope you’ll still accept when I…” he paused, searching the area around the table when his search of both jacket pockets revealed no ring box. “Chad, are you okay? What’s going on? Did you lose something? I can help you find it,” Theresa offered helpfully, pushing her chair back and standing up. “Just tell me what I’m looking for.” Chad stifled his groan as he met her sparkling brown eyes. He’d been so busy making sure everything else was perfect that he’d forgotten the most important item of all. “Sheridan,” he breathed. The ring was probably still in her purse, and at that moment she and Luis were probably…There went his proposal. He couldn’t exactly call her up when he was sure she’d be…busy. “Theresa, girl. Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing…” That wasn’t true. “I had something I wanted to give you, and I thought I had it with me in my jacket, but…” Theresa took his leather jacket from his arms and slipped her hands in each pocket. “If it’s another present for me, we HAVE to find it,” she said, giggling at the amused expression on his face. “It might help if you told me what IT is.” Chad chuckled and shook his head. “These lips are sealed. You’ll just have to wait,” he told her, taking a few steps away the table to scan the area around them in the off-chance it’d fallen out of his pocket. It was then he remembered… “Chad, did you check the little inside pocket. It might be…” Theresa’s voice trailed off as an object fell to the ground, and she knelt to pick it up, her brown eyes impossibly wide as her trembling fingers pried the lid of the tiny velvet box open to reveal a sparkling diamond ring. “Chad?” she whispered as she stood up slowly, and he gently took the box from her hands. “Theresa,” he sighed as he took the ring from the box and held it between his fingers. “This isn’t the romantic proposal I wanted to give you, the one that you deserve…but it IS me asking you the most important question of my life. What do you say? Theresa…will you marry me?” “Are you crazy, Chad?” Theresa whispered, her dark eyes sparkling with suspicious moisture as she stared up at him unblinkingly. And Chad held his breath as he witnessed the small beginnings of a radiant smile blossom on her lips and transform her entire face. “Yes. Yes!” she squealed happily, throwing her arms around his neck and nearly knocking him off-balance. He breathed a sigh of relief then smirked. He knew she was going to say ‘YES’ all along.

Nick rubbed his aching jaw in surprise. He still couldn’t believe she’d hit him. And from the look in her hazel eyes, she couldn’t believe she’d hit him either. But that didn’t stop her from trying to do it again. “Abby, what…what was that for?” he asked, holding up a defensive hand. “Other plans,” she growled, focusing her anger back on the punching bag behind her. Nick made no move to touch her as she struck the bag repeatedly, slightly afraid of a repeat performance of a few minutes ago, despite the diminuative size of the woman in front of him. She packed a powerful punch. George was proof of that, and so was the dull throbbing in his lower jaw. “I can’t tell which way is up with you. One minute you’re kissing me back,” she paused to land a vicious punch on the bag, and Nick winced. “The next you’re pushing me away again and pretending that it didn’t happen. Which is it, Nick?” she grunted as she landed a kick against the bag. Behind her, Nick’s hands fell to the hem of his black sweater, sweeping it up and over his head and tossing it somewhere behind him. “Do you want me or not? ‘Cause if you don’t, I’d like to know so I can stop wasting my time on a man that is nothing but a sorry sack of sh…” Abby’s words died in her throat, and her vocal cords stopped working all together when Nick stepped around her, and she was met with a sight she’d drooled over many times…his sleek, muscled bare chest right before her eyes. The air held hostage in her lungs escaped her throat in a sob as she raised her hands to his chest and shoved him as hard as she could, sending them both tumbling to the exercise mat on the floor. “Please…please, don’t…” she pleaded weakly, bracing her hands on his shoulders as she pushed herself upright, her legs straddling his waist on either side. Something inside Nick broke at the echo of defeat so unusual in her voice, and his hand traveled up her arm, past her shoulder to rest a finger at her lips. Hazel eyes were locked in on his gray eyes as he slid his hand to the base of her skull and urged her mouth down to his. He could still feel her fighting him, resisting him as he planted feather-light kisses against her closed mouth, and he shifted beneath her, his left hand hooking behind her knee and gripping it tightly as the sensation of her lower body coming into direct contact with his groin threatened to overwhelm him. Abby gasped against his mouth, and he took that opportunity to plunder her open mouth. He had no doubt denial would never work in keeping her at arm’s length again.

He kissed her. Over and over again. From the mere whisper of lips brushing experimentally against each other to deep, wet kisses that couldn’t bring him close enough to her as his hand cupped her head and pulled her into him. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his blood rushed through his veins as his hands touched everywhere they could reach. Her skin was hot against his fingertips as his hand swept beneath the sweatshirt she wore and rest on the tattoo he knew was there. He could almost see the sunburst design bursting in a brilliance of color behind his closed eyelids as she moaned into his mouth and broke away panting. Nick’s labored breathing nearly spun out of control when she sat up astride him and tore the sweatshirt over her tawny head. His hands left her thighs, and he wrapped one arm around her slender waist, pulling her down to him so that he could taste the mole on the full underside of her right breast. Abby’s breath rasped in her throat as Nick shifted beneath her again, and her knees pressed into the exercise mat as he sat up and his arms went around her back, cupping her shoulders as his mouth lavished kisses on her skin, from her chin to her sternum. Her arms cradled him close as he lingered at the valley between her breasts, just nuzzling her and breathing her in. He tightened his arms around her in a brief hug before releasing her just long enough to climb to his feet and gather her against him again. Abby’s arms went around his neck and her heels hooked behind his back, and the gold in her hazel eyes almost took Nick’s breath away as he tucked a loose strand of tawny hair behind her ear and carried her toward his bedroom.

“For all the Valentine’s Days that come before,” Sheridan murmured, smiling softly as she fingered the edges of another card. She dropped it back into the little wooden box and rest her palm against Luis’s abdomen, tucking her golden head beneath his chin. “How did I ever get so lucky?” “Sometimes I wonder if Theresa’s Fate actually exists,” Luis answered her, making her smile grow even wider. “You…Mr. By the Book believing in fate and destiny and all that good stuff?” “You’ve taught me anything is possible,” Luis laughed softly at her teasing tone. “Coming back to me that first Christmas. And after…when you came back to me and Ali the second time,” he said, trailing his fingertips up and down her bare arm and clasping their hands together when their fingers met and entwined. His life was divided into two parts: before he knew her love and after he knew her love and loved her. Before he loved her, his life WAS by the book, and he didn’t open his eyes long enough or wide enough to see all the beauty there was to see. He kept his life safe, bland, living on his duty instead of his dreams and love. Now, the after, his eyes were wide open, and he was living in a world filled with so much color, so many intense highs and lows, it overwhelmed him sometimes. But he wouldn’t trade this life with all its uncertainties for a paint-by-number substitute. “Maybe it is…” Sheridan hesitated to actually use the word ‘fate,’ “I don’t know for sure if fate and destiny exist, Luis. But I do know,” she paused, raising up and searching his beloved face with her blue eyes, “that whatever curve ball life throws at us, we’re going to confront it together. I’ll always come back to you, Luis, no matter who or what I have to fight to do it. If that’s fate, count yourself a lucky man.” Sheridan’s hand raised to cup his jaw, and he pressed his cheek against her palm, smiling against her lips as they descended on his lips and his face.

“Do you remember that first Valentine’s Day?” he asked her as she stood between the open vee of his legs at the edge of their bed, and he slipped his fingers beneath the thin, silky ties at the back of her dress, pulling them free. “Like yesterday,” she whispered, lifting her hands to her shoulders and sliding the straps down. Her hands rested against the muscular planes of his chest as he dropped kisses across the revealed golden skin of the swell of her breasts. “Luis…I want to touch you,” she protested weakly as he removed her hands from his chest and lowered them to her sides. Her blue eyes glittered at him in the dark light as his big dark hands peeled the bodice of the dress down, over the gently swell of her stomach, and let the dress fall to pool around her feet. Happy tears slipped down her cheeks as his arms went around her waist, and he pressed his mouth against her belly, whispering to their baby. Her lips quirked up at the corners, and she smiled through her tears as she listened and heard what amounted to gibberish. Loving gibberish, but gibberish all the same. “Luis,” she laughed, combing her fingers through his dark hair. “What are you telling her?” “Secrets between father and daughter,” he answered back with a cute little grin, “but you were mentioned. She wanted me to tell you how beautiful she thought you looked tonight, all glowing and happy, and she wanted to say hi." ”She told you all that?" Sheridan smirked as she traced his familiar features with her fingertips. “Tell her I said hi, too, and to ignore her daddy because he’s being a silly dork right now,” she teased, running her index finger along the tip of his nose then the tiny indented space above his upper lip. She threw her head back and laughed when Luis nipped playfully at the pad of her finger. “Okay…a sweet dork,” she amended, smiling against his lips as he kissed her. “Or maybe,” she gasped as she felt his hand move between her legs, touching her in teasing strokes as she clung to him for support, “not a dork at all. Damn you, Luis,” she pouted with her kiss-swollen red lips. “You never did fight fair,” she sighed as he lay her back against the pillows.

Abby’s head hit the cold, solid surface of Nick’s bedroom door with a thud, and Nick tore his lips from hers, his gray eyes shining with apology. “Abby, I…” “I’m fine,” Abby told him, moistening her upper lip with her tongue. She grinned as his groan reached her ears, combing her fingers through the dark hair at the nape of his neck and staring at him with hazel eyes that blazed with desire. She wrapped her arms more firmly around Nick’s neck, flattening her soft breasts against his chest, and let her lips brush against his ear lobe as she spoke to him in a sultry whisper. “Ready to get bare-assed naked with me, Doctor?” Her mouth opened to release a throaty moan when she felt his hand grip her thigh and lift it higher on his waist and his hips undulated against hers. His voice was a low, sexy drawl as he pressed her body more firmly against the door with his own “Does that answer your question?” “I always did prefer the long, detailed answers of essay questions myself,” Abby teased him breathlessly as he backed them toward his bed. Nick’s gray eyes laughed at her as he turned them around with the first touch of the mattress against the back of his legs and let her body slide down his length onto the bed. “What does it take to render you speechless?” His laugh morphed into a groan when she rose on her knees, and he felt the heat of her mouth on his skin as she kissed, nibbled, and licked her way up his abdomen and chest. His hands delved into her tawny hair, carefully removing the pins that kept her French twist intact, and her silky hair tumbled to her shoulders, obscuring her face from his view as she responded to his question. “That actually hasn’t been discovered yet, but give it your best shot.” His gray eyes snapped shut when he felt her small, hot hands unbutton his jeans and struggle with the zipper. Abby shrieked with surprised laughter when he toppled her backwards, bracing himself above her with his forearms and nipping playfully at her chin. “Geez. I’m not your evening entrée. Biting’s nice…IF you’re a vampire,” she teased, sweeping her hands across the corded muscles of his back and even digging her nails in as her hands reached his denim-covered ass, pulling him down and covering her body with his from head to toe. “I bet you can’t shut me up,” she challenged him with twinkling hazel eyes. “I’ll take that bet,” Nick grinned down at her, sweeping her hair back from her face before bending down and trailing his lips along her cheek and temple.

It crossed his mind as his lips and hands touched and caressed her body that he’d been a stupid man to deny himself this for so long. The warm press of her back against his chest as he draped her arm around his neck and his hands and fingers learned the feel and texture of her skin as they fluttered over her ribcage, careful not to apply too much pressure to a wound that was fading but still visible. The soft weight of her breast in his palm as his lips and teeth found the pulse point at her throat, earning him a typically colorful remark from Abby. And the string of curses that left her throat in a strangled gasp as his hand skirted past the lacy rim of her crimson panties, teasing her, made him smirk in satisfaction. She was boneless and languid beneath his hands as they catalogued each dip and valley of her spine, and she shivered when she felt the wet stroke of his tongue tracing the outline of the sun tattoo on her lower back. Her abdominal muscles fluttered beneath his touch, and she arched beneath him when he flicked his tongue into her navel, her sweat-dampened tawny hair a disheveled halo on his midnight pillow. He discovered what made her squirm beneath his touch—the back of her knees, soles of her feet, and her hipbones were sensitive and ticklish, and she hummed in the back of her throat when his thumbs stroked the baby soft skin of her inner thighs, writhing and opening herself to him, frustration leading her to call him a “Bastard.” He learned what made her sigh and cry out with pleasure, touching her in places she hadn’t been sure existed before. And when he finally ended her torment, sinker deeper and deeper into her body as he lost himself in her gold-hazel eyes, their hands were clasped tightly, pressing into the down of the pillow on each side of her head. His lingering thought as he kissed the salty wetness away from the fringes of the pale lashes of the woman writhing beneath him in pleasure-pain and babbling nonsense…figuring out how to render Abby speechless was going to be VERY enjoyable.

“Well, now I feel like a voyeur,” the angel with wise brown eyes told the little blond angel beside her as the picture of two lovers so new sleeping in each others’ arms in front of her started to fade and change into something else. Another place. Another set of lovers holding each other as they read through a box of Valentines. She…wearing his pristine dress shirt like so many years ago when they first found love. He…wearing the same adoring smile. The brown-eyed angel smiled, prying the little angel girl’s hand from her young eyes. “We’re back in the G-rated territory now. PG tops.” A young couple basking in the happiness of their newfound commitment to each other. The diamond ring sparkling on her finger as her hands covered his around her waist, and they watched the lighthouse’s beam cut across the horizon, the ocean whitecaps gleaming in the darkness. The exhilaration of a first kiss given and taken in the shadows as partygoers passed by, and the shy smiles exchanged between two young people very much in like. The pounding of two hearts as golden bands are exchanged in a ceremony so unexpected the bride’s bouquet is a single yellow rose. “Unexpected? Old Man Crane is going to roll over in his grave,” the angel muttered under her breath, peeking out of the corner of her brown eyes at her young friend who agreed with her. “Most unexpected.” The comic pitfalls of one couple as they loved each other as only they could. The sweetness of young love as one little angel on earth listened to the lullaby tinkle forth from her cherished gift. The gift of a rose between old lovers, still young at heart. A dance shared in a dark hospital room while a little boy slept peacefully just feet away. And a smile sent from earth to Heaven above and bringing a tearful smile to the angel’s own face. “We make a good team,” she sniffled, wiping her tears away as she lay her arm across the shoulders of her young partner in ‘crime.’ “I think so,” the little blond angel agreed. “But next year’s going to be even better.”

Chapter 65

Abby groaned, tucking the midnight-blue sheets under her arms as she scooted across the bed and scanned the darkened interior of Nick’s bedroom for any article of clothing she could throw on to answer the front door. Instead of ceasing like she’d hoped and prayed for the last ten minutes, the knocking at the door had continued, increasing from light rapping to pounding. She had a fair idea who the culprit was too, and she wasn’t opposed to kicking some big brother ass. The sheets trailed behind her like a wedding train as she scampered through the apartment, and she started to laugh somewhat bitterly at the ridiculous thought. Gray Eyes was nowhere to be found the morning after what she’d thought was a helluva night. Obviously, she was mistaken, she told herself as she yanked the front door open and glared at her smirking older brother. “Shane, get your ass in here and stop making that damned racket before I call the cops.”

“Good morning to you too, Runt,” Shane said in reply, giving her appearance a none-too surprised look but wisely keeping his mouth shut. “Shane,” Abby huffed as the sheets tangled around her legs, tripping her up and sending her stumbling into his welcoming arms. “What are you doing here? I thought you had to work.” Shane’s big hands combed Abby’s golden tangle of hair back from her face, and he kissed her soundly on the forehead in belated greeting. “There are some advantages to your boss eloping in the middle of the night,” Shane grinned. “I have the day off, and since the Book Café is closed, cheating me out of my usual morning cup of coffee…”

“Ethan and Beth…” Abby whispered, a slow smile gradually taking over her face and transforming her earlier grumpy demeanor. “The girl’s good. Much better than I’d given her credit for. You mean Ethan actually got married without his mother in attendance? Where the hell was Ivy? Ethan’s the biggest Mama’s boy…” Shane chuckled, and Abby’s mouth dropped open with one look at the guilty expression on his face. “Shane!” she gasped. “You and Ivy didn’t…oh my God, my brother’s sleeping with Ivy Crane.” “We’re not sleeping together—which is more than I can say for you and a certain doctor,” Shane chided with a quick glance around the living room and the clothes strewn everywhere, “but we ARE seeing each other, and Ivy’s offered to rent the old cottage to me so I can move out of the B & B.” “SO convenient for a quick roll in the hay, don’t you think?” Abby rolled her hazel eyes at her brother, stomping toward her bedroom and slamming the door in Shane’s face for his earlier comment.

“What is this?” Shane questioned, his own hazel eyes not missing the disaster area down the hall that used to be Nick’s bedroom. The sheets from the bed were gone but not missing. He’d seen them himself just a few short seconds ago wrapped around Abby’s torso. He didn’t even want to dwell on what the good doctor and his willful wildcat of a little sister had been doing all night. His imagination was too vivid as it were. “Abby, I thought you were going to be smart and not do this again.” “Again?” Abby responded indignantly, throwing her bedroom door open and startling Shane much more than he’d care to admit. “With Vincent I was young and stupid. With Nick…I’m older. And stupid,” Abby admitted grudgingly. “I’m an adult, Shane. So is Nick. We can handle…this,” she waved her hands around awkwardly, running forward to scoop up the clothes marking a trail to Nick’s bedroom door.

“You’re doing it again, Runt,” Shane softened his accusation by stalling her nervous movements with a firm, brotherly hand on her bare shoulder. “Doing what?” Abby played dumb, tugging at the hem of her baby blue tank with her hands before twirling the drawstring of her pajama pants around her index finger. “You’re headed for trouble,” Shane sighed in resignation, wrapping his arms around his little sister’s shoulders and pulling her into him. “I want better for my baby sister than some guy who doesn’t know what the hell he wants. You deserve better, Baby Girl, than someone who isn’t man enough to face the morning WITH you.” “Trouble?” Abby snorted against her brother’s chest, her hazel eyes glittering and shining with unabashed affection as she raised her tawny head and looked Shane directly in the eye. There was a slight tremor in her voice as she answered him with unfaltering honesty and a hint of her trademark humor, “Hell. I left the ‘Danger, Will Robinson’ territory eons ago,” she muttered, ignoring Shane’s expression of concern. “Don’t call me ‘Baby Girl’,” she told him sternly, standing on tiptoe to kiss his smooth cheek and making him smile. “Well…why the hell are you just standing around like a knot on a log? You know where I keep the coffee. While you’re at it,” she paused in the doorway to her own bedroom, “a sister so deserving deserves a four-star breakfast, don’t you think?” Shane chuckled, shaking his head as the door closed behind her. Was he going to do her bidding? Of course.

“Ethan!” Sheridan cried, wrapping her arms around her nephew’s neck and squeezing hard. Ethan grinned at her exuberant reaction to seeing him. Sure it’d been a while since he’d stepped foot inside the home his aunt shared with Luis and her children, but it hadn’t been THAT long. Sheridan’s arms relaxed around him, and she drew back to flash him an affectionate smile. “Thank you for coming. I know it’s early, but Luis is only going in to the station for half a day because of my appointment, and I didn’t want him to…” Sheridan’s blue eyes widened in surprise when Beth stepped around Ethan, and the glint of gold on the other woman’s finger caught her attention. “Ethan? Oh my God. Ethan!” Sheridan practically squeaked, fumbling for Ethan’s hand and lifting it up for inspection. Her mouth dropped open in astonishment when she discovered a matching golden band on his finger. “You…you,” she stammered, further broadening the grin on Ethan’s face and the half-smile on Beth’s lips. “Ethan, you idiot!” Sheridan growled, no longer dumbstruck. “You cheated us out of the wedding. Ivy must be furious.” Ethan chuckled, gently pushing his pregnant aunt inside out of the cold, and Beth followed them, shutting the door behind her. “Mother’ll get over it. Things were just so…” “Sudden?” Sheridan offered, smiling apologetically at Beth to let her know she didn’t blame her in the least bit and leading them both to the sofa.

“Yes,” Ethan tugged at his starched shirt collar uncomfortably. “But that doesn’t mean…Aunt Sheridan,” he sighed as he joined her on the couch and sent Miss Priss away, hissing in protest. “Ethan, don’t be so silly. Just because I’m disappointed I wasn’t invited,” she pretended to pout, her blue eyes twinkling, “doesn’t mean I think you and Beth getting married was a bad idea. I’m surprised but not completely shocked. Something’s been going on between you two for months.” Beth blushed slightly, and Sheridan almost had to laugh. She didn’t know Beth Wallace blushed. “Mother swears there’s going to be another wedding,” Ethan revealed. “And she wants to plan the entire thing,” Beth stated quietly, looking slightly pale at the proposition. ‘Ivy’s been waiting for this for YEARS,” Sheridan gave the brunette a sympathetic smile. “It’s always been obvious that Ethan’s her favorite, and she spoils him.” Ethan groaned at the playful wink Sheridan gave him. “Aunt Sheridan,” he changed the subject, hoping to escape total mortification. Because if ever any person wanted to humiliate him within an inch of his life…all they had to do was talk with her or his mother. "Aunt Sheridan, you said you had something you wished for me to handle?” The easy smile left Sheridan’s face, and Beth decided at that moment to venture into the kitchen for…something. “Aunt Sheridan?” Ethan’s brows creased in worry as he grasped her hand with his own, “is something wrong?”

“Wrong?” Sheridan shook her head slightly. “No, Ethan. No. Things are…fine. Nothing’s wrong exactly. I just…Ethan, I want you to help me with something,” she said softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “Anything, Aunt Sheridan. You know I’ll help you any way I can,” Ethan told her with conviction, causing her to smile anew. “But I’m confused. If everything’s okay, why do you seem so…why isn’t Luis here for this?” “I didn’t want to bother Luis with this, Ethan. You know how adamant he is about being the one to take care of all of us, and he takes the BEST care of Ali and Cristian and me. But Ali’s medical bills are adding up, and with me on leave from the Youth Center...things are starting to get a little strained financially, Ethan. I don’t want Luis to have any additional worries. Besides, he shouldn’t have to leave Ali’s side if it’s not necessary…” Ethan cut Sheridan’s breathless explanation off with a reassuring hand to her shoulder. “You want to use money from your trust fund,” he surmised with a quick nod of his head. “I’ll handle it for you, Aunt Sheridan. But don’t you think you should tell Luis? You’ve had your problems about all the privileges that come with your Crane name and the strings attached before, but this time I really think Luis will understand. It’s not that big of a deal,” Ethan said, shrugging his shoulders. “Maybe not to you, Ethan. This time it could actually be different with Luis, considering the circumstances,” Sheridan sighed, offering her nephew a tight smile and pushing herself to her feet. She picked up the family picture of her, Luis, and the kids and traced their much-loved features. “With Luis, it’s all about pride,” she murmured, meeting Beth’s dark eyes across the room and seeing the wholehearted agreement in them. “I’ll tell him. But not yet, Ethan. It’ll wait. Right now nothing’s as important as getting Ali better, not letting Cristian forget how much I love him, and bringing this baby safely into this world,” Sheridan told him earnestly. “I can’t argue with that,” Ethan whispered, standing up to give his aunt another hug. Beth watched them both, finding only one fault with their logic. The best intentions or not…Luis was NOT going to like being kept in the dark.

Chapter 66

“It’s such a pretty ring, Aunt Theresa,” Ali gushed as she nestled against Theresa’s side, admiring the sparkling diamond. “It is, isn’t it?” Theresa agreed, wrapping her arm more firmly around Ali’s slim shoulders and hugging her to her side. Beside them, Cristian shifted in Chad’s lap and eyed him with a frighteningly level gaze. “So you’re finally going to make an honest woman out of her, huh?” he asked, repeating Luis’s earlier semi-jokingly spoken words. Chad grinned and nodded his head at the little man looking at him so intensely. “Took me long enough, didn’t it?” “Sure did,” Cristian agreed somberly, moving his dangling feet restlessly as he heard the clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen. Theresa giggled at her nephew’s anxious expression. She knew he was just dying to join Mama in the kitchen and help her with preparing lunch, but he was too polite to do anything about it. “Cristian, I’m sure Nana would LOVE your help in the kitchen,” she told him, sharing a tickled smile with Ali when Cristian’s face lit up with barely disguised pleasure, and he scooted off of Chad’s knee and raced excitedly toward the kitchen, barely avoiding a head-on collision with Martin. Martin just chuckled, making his way across the living room to take a seat in one of the armchairs opposite the sofa the happy trio shared. “So…” Martin cleared his throat, offering a smile of his own to his newly engaged daughter, “When’s the big day?”

Ali gazed expectantly up at Theresa’s face with shining blue eyes. “I hope you don’t take as long to have your wedding as Jake’s mommy and Uncle Hank did. Jake was in school!” Chad chuckled at the realization that Ali in all her innocence had probably thought Gwen and Hank had spent years engaged, unknowing that marriage hadn’t always been in the cards for the Bennetts. Or so they had thought. “Really?” Chad couldn’t resist teasing her. “I kind of thought it’d be nice to wait a while. I think the day you graduate high school would be perfect,” he said, winking at her and making her dissolve into infectious giggles. “Or,” Theresa couldn’t resist adding, “we could wait and have a double wedding with you and Ja-boyfriend, Ali.” Ali giggled some more, crossing her arms across her middle in such a Sheridan-like pose Martin, Theresa, and Chad just had to smile. “Well, Ali?” Chad prodded. “When’s our big day going to be?” “I don’t know,” Ali answered, rolling her blue eyes at them and quirking one golden brow in Theresa’s direction. “I have to wait for my hair to come back before I can propose to Jake.” The smile on Theresa’s face froze as she zeroed in on only one part of Ali’s comment, and she felt her heart grow heavy in her chest until Chad’s ultimate reminder of the rest of Ali’s statement. “I thought it was the guy’s job to do the proposing, Miss Ali. Does Jake know you’re planning to be the one to pop the question?” Ali’s cheeks blushed prettily as she shook her head ‘no’ vigorously. “Mommy says I can do anything. I don’t have to let boys do it for me.” “Smart cookie your mom,” Martin told his little granddaughter. Ali grinned in agreement, scooting off the sofa to take a place on her grandpa Martin’s knee.

Ali had long since joined Pilar and Cristian in the kitchen to help set the table for lunch when Martin broke the comfortable silence hovering in the little living room. “How much longer before I have to give my little girl away?” Theresa squeezed Chad’s hand quickly before crossing the small distance that separated her and her father and taking up Ali’s vacated spot on Martin’s knee. “Papa,” she smiled down at him, wrapping her arms firmly around his neck and kissing both cheeks, “you’ll still have me for a while yet.” Martin sighed softly as he brushed Theresa’s long, dark hair back from her face, tucking a heavy strand behind her ear and letting his fingertips linger on her chin as he smiled in her eyes. “That’s good to know, but why the wait?” Theresa met Chad’s dark eyes across the living room, and Chad’s answer was a simple word. “Ali.” “You’re waiting for her to get better,” Martin shook his head at not realizing it sooner. “Ali’s the star of all my girl’s wedding plans, and we got to give Sheridan time to have that baby,” Chad smirked, “Theresa’s got plans for her too. And Cristian…poor little man.” “Chad!” Theresa exclaimed, brown eyes flashing. “Theresa, girl…I don’t know how you’re going to convince MJ to wear a monkey suit either.” Martin chuckled. None of his grandsons particularly liked the formal treatment, but if MJ held true to his past behavior…he would be nothing if not vocal about his displeasure. “Cristian and MJ and Joshua are going to look adorable,” Theresa said. “Exactly,” Chad answered her, making Martin’s chuckles turn into full-blown laughter. “Papa,” Theresa frowned down at him, loosening her hold around his neck. Chad grinned at Martin’s increasingly red cheeks, leaning forward on the sofa and looking his fiancee in the eyes. “What do aunts and grandmothers and mothers do to adorable kids, girl? The kids’ cheeks are going to be sore from all the pinching. Those boys would rather leave the adorable quotient out of it and look cool. Trust me on this, Theresa.” Chad searched her dark eyes with his own hoping she hadn’t taken his suggestions the wrong way. When Pilar announced it was time for lunch though, he sprang out of his seat and was the first one seated at the kitchen table, safely sandwiched between Ali and Cristian and out of harm’s way just in case.

“Sheridan,” Grace greeted Sheridan with a warm hug, pulling back to smile into her blue eyes as she reached a slightly timid hand out to Sheridan’s gently rounded belly. “How’s she doing?” Grace questioned, gaining Sam and Luis’s attention a few feet away. Luis gave Sam’s hand one last firm shake and ventured to Sheridan’s side, slipping a supportive arm around her waist. “Good,” Sheridan answered her. “The doctor said she seems to be right on schedule, and she’s going to continue to do fine as long as…” “As long as what, Sheridan?” Sam inquired, a bit of worry creeping into the lines that had become more prominent around his eyes since Kay’s death. “The doctor wants Sheridan to keep her stress level down so it won’t affect hers or the baby’s health,” Luis told their concerned friends. “You have to listen to the doctor, Sheridan,” Grace said softly, clasping Sheridan’s hand in her own and giving it a gentle, strengthening squeeze. “If you need any help with Ali or Cristian, if you just need a little break, Sam or I would be more than happy to do what we can. Wouldn’t we, Sam?” “Grace is right,” Sam agreed, “don’t take on more than you can handle.” Sheridan laughed softly in embarrassment as she wiped at the tears pooling in the corners of her blue eyes. “Look at me. Getting all emotional already. Luis has months of this to look forward to,” she muttered, smiling through her tears as she accepted Grace’s embrace and Sam’s kiss to her tear-streaked cheek. “It’s hard right now, but I’m doing the best I can. Theresa has been wonderful with Cristian, and Pilar and Martin…and you too. I’m surrounded by the best friends and family I could have. That still floors me sometimes,” Sheridan admitted shakily. Leaning back against Luis for support. “I’m sorry for getting all weepy on you. This isn’t what we intended…Luis and I wanted to visit Joshua. Is Miguel in there with him?”

Sheridan let Grace lead her inside Joshua’s hospital room, and Luis remained in the hallway, not letting the chance to talk to his old boss and friend pass him by. “I don’t know any other way to take the stress off of her except getting rid of Ali’s cancer, and that’s really out of my hands,” Luis sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his tired features. Last night had been a wonderful respite from all their problems, a reconnection of sorts, but the dawning of a new morning had only reintroduced those problems to them both. “What about Ali’s doctor? Dr. Taylor?” Sam inquired, his blue eyes showing more of the concern he’d hoped to hide completely from Sheridan earlier. “Taylor’s doing everything he can,” Luis released another sigh. “His plan is to get Ali into remission and go ahead with the transplant. Cristian’s not a complete match, and lately Taylor’s been making some noise about testing the baby.” “Couldn’t that be dangerous?” Sam asked, “For the baby?” “Everything has its risks, Sam,” Luis stated, “You know I want my AliCat to have every chance, but we have Taylor pushing for the procedure, while Sheridan’s ob-gyn seems reluctant to support it. I don’t know what to do, Sam. I’d do anything to make sure Ali beats this cancer, but I don’t know if I’m willing to go this far. I haven’t held her in my arms yet, but I love this baby too. I want what’s best for her, and I’m not 100% certain the test goes along with that whether the risks are big or small.” “How does Sheridan feel about this?” Sam wondered, stepping closer to Luis when a nurse passed by them in the hall, wheeling a young boy in a wheelchair. The boy’s blue eyes lingered on Luis’s face until the nurse pushed him and the chair around the hall corner, and Luis turned to Sam with conflicted brown eyes once the child had disappeared. “I think she’s disappointed because I’m not having the reaction she expected me to have. She wants to do it, and she thinks I’ll change my mind. I don’t know what to tell her because I don’t know myself.” “You’ll see, Luis,” Sam spoke softly, wondering silently how he could utter the words he was about to say when he still hadn’t come to accept his own daughter’s death. “Things are going to work out the way they’re supposed to.”

“Jake, go inside and help your mom,” Hank suggested when his ever curious, downright nosy young chip off the old block followed him and Noah into the garage. Jake's brown eyes narrowed as they scanned Noah’s face, and he sounded downright chipper when he answered Hank. “Mom said she had all the help she needed in Emmy and Sara and Myles.” Noah’s silver-blue eyes twinkled at the exasperation in his uncle Hank’s voice when he made another suggestion. “Take Gus out for his walk.” Jake crossed his arms over his chest and shook his brown head stubbornly. “Are you trying to get rid of me, Dad?” “Yeah,” Hank grinned, “but it’s not working, is it? Look, Little Buddy. Noah has something he wants to talk to me about, and it’s kind of personal so could you…” “Geez,” Jake muttered, stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets and shuffling past them. “If you want a guy to scram, why don’t you just say so?” “He’s going to listen, isn’t he?” Noah laughed. “Sorry, Noah,” Hank gave his nephew’s shoulder a firm squeeze, “but that’s just the breaks. Little Buddy LOVES to eavesdrop. But he’s not going to be hearing a thing this time,” Hank grinned, producing a yellowed tablet of lined paper and one of Emily’s pink markers. “Best I could do,” he explained when Noah gave the pink marker a strange look. “So…what’s the problem?” “I met this…” Noah began, grinning when Hank cleared his throat. Very loudly. He took the offered pink marker from Hank’s hands and quickly scrawled one word on the tablet. ‘Katie.’ He raised expectant silver-blue eyes to Hank’s face and watched as Hank withdrew a blue pen that had clearly seen better days and scrawled ‘Nice girl’ below ‘Katie.’ Noah felt the insane urge to laugh when he wrote his next message on the pad. ‘Date. 7 p.m. Tonight.’ “Really?” Hank said, breaking their silence. “Good for you, Man. She’s hot,” he grinned, winking at Noah when they heard the hurried shuffle of sneakered feet executing an escape. Noah burst into laughter at the sound of the front door opening and slamming a few short seconds later. "What’s the deal, Noah?” Hank studied the younger man openly. “Katie’s nice and very pretty, and you’re lucky enough to have a date with her. I don’t see the problem.” “The problem,” Noah’s laughter all but died down, “is that she has a two-year-old son.”

“So?” Hank shrugged his shoulders. “So she has a kid. So some loser was stupid enough to abandon his kid and its mother. Katie’s not married, and this is just a date, right? I’m sure you’ll have a good time.” Noah sighed. What Uncle Hank said was true, but…kids complicated things. He really liked Katie, and from what he could tell last night, she really liked him. Supposing they were able to get something going…breaking up with a woman that he really cared about was hard enough, but breaking up with the mother of a kid he’d formed an attachment to was even more difficult. Experience had taught him a few things. “I’ll just tell her I don’t want to meet Kendall.” Hank combed his hands through his messy brown hair then shook his head. “You can’t do that. You’ll be over from the word ‘go.’ Be open to meeting the kid. But only after you’ve dated for a while.” Noah raised surprised silver-blue eyes to his uncle’s face. “A while? You really think we’ll make it past the first date, Uncle Hank?” Hank grinned, reaching up to grip Noah’s shoulder firmly. “I’ve known Katie through Ali for a few months now. If you’re not in love with her before the night is over, the second date will convince you,” Hank winked, letting go of Noah’s shoulder and turning to go back inside through the kitchen. The front door was only used by eavesdroppers like his pride and joy. “This from the man that’s fallen a little bit in love with every woman he’s ever laid eyes on,” Noah declared as Hank paused in the doorway, not even bothering to deny the accusation. “Tell Myles we’re going home. I have a date with a very pretty lady tonight, and I want to make a good second impression.” Hank chuckled, muttering as he walked inside the door, “She had you from hello.”

Joshua’s plastic truck fell off the edge of his hospital bed, rolling to a stop a few feet away, and one look at the little boy’s face had Simone smiling. When Joshua closed his gaping mouth and smiled back at her, Simone dropped the toy truck she’d retrieved into the armchair beside the bed and gathered the sweet-smelling little boy into her arms for a hug. “He likes you.” “Joshua likes everyone, Jessica,” Simone laughed, kissing the crown of Joshua’s dark head, “but he LOVES you and Grace.” “We love him,” Jessica smiled tenderly as she took a seat on the side opposite Simone on Joshua’s other side, and her little nephew looked back and forth at each of them for several seconds, finally deciding to snuggle close to her side. “I just hate to leave him,” she lamented, tears collecting in her blue eyes as she glanced at Simone over the top of Joshua’s head. “You’re really doing it. You’re going home,” Simone sighed, picking at invisible balls of lint on the blue hospital blanket beneath her. “Not home,” Jessica corrected. “THIS is home. Myles and I just need to see Faith and Reese. Hearing their voices on the telephone isn’t the same thing.” Simone nodded, stroking a gentle hand down Joshua’s back as his breathing started to slow and even out, and he slumped against Jessica drowsily. She slid off the side of the bed to help Jessica maneuver the little boy underneath the covers without waking him up completely, and Jessica spoke in hushed whispers. “Reese wants to let Faith finish out the school year, and then we’re going to make a decision about moving back to Harmony permanently or not. Myles loves it here, and since Kay…since she…well, the miles between Chicago and Harmony seem like an eternity now. I don’t think I can go back to weekly phone calls and emails when I could have the real, live, breathing people in front of me.” Simone’s voice was brimming with understanding when she revealed she was thinking about making the move as well, and the two young women continued to talk and relate to each other as they waited for Miguel and MJ to return.

“Thanks, Shane, for trying. Really. But you can go home now. Wherever home is,” Abby’s babbling finally halted when she paused long enough to frown in slight confusion. “Just go,” she rolled her hazel eyes as Shane pulled her close for one last bear hug. "Geez. What’s with the grabby hands today? I’m not going to fall apart just because the man…oh…my…God.” Shane grinned as he pushed his little sister inside her apartment. He had to admit…the place had undergone quite a transformation in the few short hours he’d kept Abby occupied. “Who the hell,” Abby growled, “turned my apartment into friggin’ Gilligan’s Island?” A palm tree? She blinked twice. Yeah. It was still there behind two lawn chairs set up in the middle of her living room. “Shane? Shane!? Where do you think you’re going? Shane!” Abby rubbed her nose gingerly, grateful at least her collision with the front door hadn’t resulted in a broken nose. “Dammit, it’s sweltering in here,” she grumbled, peeling her suede jacket off of her shoulders and draping it across the sofa. Her boots ended up somewhere between the kitchen and her bedroom door, and she was already in bare feet when she discovered the tiny black bikini. Who knew Gray Eyes was mental? The interior of their usually comfortable apartment felt like 100 degrees. She had news for his rude, ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’ ass—though, at this point, she didn’t dare own up to the night before being more than just incredible sex. He was going to be the one footing THIS electricity bill, and that wasn’t going to be the only thing the man got chewed out about, she told herself as she stripped the rest of her winter clothes off and donned the bikini. Of course, those were her intentions. Until she saw the man slouched against her doorjamb, eyeing her with predatory gray eyes. Hell, Abby thought as a delicious shiver traveled up her spine. She could chew the bastard out later. After he got his requisite mauling. She had a license to do that now. “I’ve suffered through more than my share of pitiful apologies from men, but this one…I can safely say no man’s ever transformed my entire apartment into a fake tropical paradise before. Just tell me Ginger’s not going to be popping out from that damn palm tree in there,” Abby nodded her head in the direction of the living room as she approached Nick, letting her hazel eyes linger on his wonderfully bare chest, “I hear she’s a real bitch. I think I kind of have a right to give her a real run for her money after this morning, don’t you? What do you have to say for yourself?”

Great. Just great, Abby thought silently, willing her heart to quit racing inside her chest when she felt his warm palm cup her cheek, and his gray eyes drawing her in so deep she was ready to scream out for a lifesaver. “You’re right. I don’t even really deserve the benefit of the doubt, but I do want to say I’m sorry for not being here…last night was…” Abby sighed against Nick’s warm, persuasive mouth, melting against him and hanging on for dear life. “Last night was more than just one night, Abby,” Nick whispered softly, smiling into Abby’s confused hazel eyes. “I’m sorry if I gave you that impression, and I wanted to show you that I want more than just to share my bed with you. I want to get to know as much as I can about you. What you like, what you don’t like, what makes you laugh out loud, and what makes you cry. Because you’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met, Abby Stone, and I like that.” “So does that mean you like me?” Abby couldn’t resist teasing. “And what? You want to date me? Like real dates? What’s this then? I’ve never seen anything like it,” she babbled, ducking beneath his outstretched arm and surveying her strange living room. “You’re a tough cookie,” Nick answered, looking a bit sheepish as his gray eyes roamed their surroundings again. “Shane told me the tropics were your favorite place. I can’t give you the tropics,” Nick smirked as he draped a lei that’d magically appeared in his hand around her neck and picked up a couple of pina coladas and handed her one, “but I can give you a fairly good imitation. Since I like you so much. You have to admit…this is a really good ice breaker.” “Yeah,” Abby snorted, “It’s hard to be pissed at a man so willing to make a dumbass of himself. Thank you. I thought I’d already gotten the big kiss-off,” she muttered, rolling her hazel eyes in embarrassment. “I may be a jerk, but I’m not that big of a jerk,” Nick assured her with another devastating smile sent her way.

It turned out two lawn chairs weren’t needed, and the pina coladas were traded in for something a little less…tame. Abby’s bikini top hung like a Christmas decoration from the lamp across the room, and Nick didn’t have a clue where the rest of her suit had ended up. All he knew for certain was the tequila tasted better on her lips and tongue than it tasted in the shot glass, and Abby’s skin smelled of rich suntan oil and sweat. He twirled a long strand of tawny hair around his index finger, his breath coming in short labored pants as she kissed a path down his torso, and his hands clenched in her silky hair in surprise when he felt the wet sensation of her tongue on his hipbone. He kissed her almost apologetically, afraid again of hurting her, as she enveloped him with her heat, and his big hands settled on her hips, guiding her movement as he watched her hazel eyes change to gold above him. He pulled her warm, sated body over him like a blanket, combing her sweaty tawny hair back from the nape of her neck as he sprawled back in the padded lawn chair. The knowledge that Abby’s feet barely reached his calves had him smiling tenderly, and his smile turned into a grin when she smacked him soundly in the chest for ‘mentally making fun’ of her size. He clasped her smaller hand in his, placing it over his slowly recovering heart while he asked her questions. Silly questions. Important questions. Questions off the top of his head. Questions that had her shaking her disheveled tawny head in laughter as she kissed him lightly on the lips. He was still wondering about her tattoo when he felt her relax totally against him. Boneless and dead to the world. Finally speechless although it didn’t exactly count. But that was a question for another day.

Chapter 67

“Tink! Hold up. Where do you think you’re going?” Abby whirled around at the familiar teasing voice, rolling her hazel eyes at Hank as he jogged the few feet that stretched between them in the hospital hall. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Mom,” Abby cracked, propping her right hand on her hip and shaking her tawny head when Hank arrived at her side, slightly winded. “Took you long enough. You really need to get out more, Bennett. Exercise,” she told him with an impish grin, catching him off-guard with a pinch to his denim-encased ass. Hank’s brown eyes sparkled like a naughty young boy’s as he slipped his arm around Abby’s slim waist and tugged her against his side, pressing his lips to the crown of her head as he whispered to her. “Careful. You don’t want to start any more rumors, do you?” “Rumors?” Abby asked, one tawny brow arching in question, “What kind of rumors?” “You know,” Hank’s voice rose to a pitch just loud enough for the gaggle of gossiping nurses walking by to hear. “Gwen’s going to divorce me and sue for custody of the kids when she finds out we’re sleeping together behind her back.” Abby groaned when the audible gasps of a couple of the nosy women reached her ears. “Dammit, Hank. You let the cat out of the bag, and Ellie’s going to make sure the news is known nationwide just in time for the evening edition.” Hank grinned at her wink, letting his arm fall away from her waist as they neared the cafeteria. He placed his tray beside hers as they made their way down the lunch line, and soon, they were both seated at a table tucked, amazingly enough, in a quiet corner.

“Geez. Lunch at the cafeteria is hardly a party, but crashing it, Hank? Is life really such a bore that you have to make your own fun?” Abby’s hazel eyes twinkled at the man sitting across from her as she took a sip from her glass of water. “Don’t you know it, Lady?” Hank smirked. “You are the party.” “Don’t flatter me,” Abby snorted, picking up her fork and pushing it back and forth through her salad. “Seriously, Hank. If there’s something you want to say to me, just spit it out.” The smirk on Hank’s face disappeared, replaced by an expression of concern, and Abby sighed as she lay her fork down beside her plate. “How’s your first week back at work going?” Hank hedged, ““No more problems, I hope.” “Nope. No more psychos like George,” Abby told him breezily, crossing her arms across her chest and waiting for him to just say what was on his mind. “What other rumors have you heard, Hank? Come on. You must have heard some good ones. There’s that one about me and Luis, but that’s an oldie. You already mentioned the one about me and you. Apparently, I’m after every man I make eye contact with. Oh yeah…the one about me f---ing the good doctor in my office during my lunch break a couple days ago…”

“Abby,” Hank lay a calming hand on her arm, glancing around and glaring at the owner of a particularly prying pair of pale eyes a couple of tables away. “I’m sorry. I just…dammit, Tink. Use your head. Don’t set yourself up for…” “Save me the lecture, Hank,” Abby muttered, wadding her napkin up inside her palm. “People talk about people and things they don’t understand because they have nothing better to do. I don’t really give a damn. Ask me, Hank. No? I’ll answer you anyway. No, Nick and I didn’t do ‘it’ in my office. Have we done ‘it’? That’s actually nobody’s business but mine and the man himself. What is with everybody? Thinking I need saved from Nick? He’s not the devil incarnate. If he decides tomorrow that being with me is a mistake, I’ll say it was fun while it lasted,” Abby shrugged, dropping the wadded napkin into her plate and pushing the plate away, her appetite seemingly gone. And her courage to look him in the eyes, Hank thought as he watched her stir her straw through her ice water, making the ice clink against the sides of the glass. Hank grabbed his own napkin to help her clean up the mess when water sloshed over the sides of the glass. “As long as he treats you right, I won’t have a problem with the man,” Hank muttered lowly, his brown eyes picking out the man himself slowly making his way toward their table. “How sweet and heroic of you,” Abby murmured sarcastically, a small smile back on her lips as she lifted her eyes back to his face, “I’ll tell you if he pisses me off, and we can both kick his ass. You’ll need help.” Not as much as you, Hank thought as he watched her hazel eyes light up on sight of Nick as he paused beside their table. Hank honestly didn’t think she realized that, day by day, a little bit more of her heart shone through her eyes. Taylor had to be blind not to see it himself, Hank thought, not appeased in the least at the affection evident in the other man’s gaze. Taylor was playing to a tough crowd, and it simply wasn’t enough.

“Hank, where are you going?” Abby asked, tearing her eyes away from Nick when she heard the scrape of Hank’s chair against the cafeteria tiles. Hank picked up his jacket from the back of the chair and draped it over his arm. “Joshua should have his stitches removed by now. If I hurry, I can get MJ back to school before lunch is over,” Hank explained. “That kid refuses to miss anything, but his teacher’s being pretty lenient considering what’s happened. Besides…it’s just the first grade,” Hank grinned. “It’s not like he’s going to miss his college entrance exam.” “What about reading?” Nick joked. “Are you kidding? Kay and Abby had MJ reading before kindergarten. Tell me, Tink…did you have to throw out ALL your favorite trashy romance novels?” Hank couldn’t resist one final teasing jab as he squeezed Abby’s shoulder in passing. “Dr. Seuss,” Abby laughed, shaking her tawny head in amusement. “MJ was insulted by the simplicity of the ‘Cat in the Hat’. No trashy novels to be found, although he DID find the copy of the ‘Kama Sutra’ Kay gave me as a joke one time. Kay wouldn’t take MJ anywhere near Grace or Pilar for a week, hoping he’d forget all about it and not ask questions.” “Did it work?” Nick inquired, his gray eyes twinkling at her as they swept over the features of her face, and he decided she was more than just very pretty. Especially when an embarrassed blush stole over her cheeks at the memory. “No! That kid has the memory of an elephant. I couldn’t look Pilar in the eyes for months, and whenever Grace Bennett saw me, she’d turn as red as one of those tomato soup cakes of hers.” Nick laughed, a perfect image in his mind of the occurrences. “I don’t know why it bothered her so much. It wasn’t like I ever got any use out of the damned book,” Abby grimaced before the words were completely out of her mouth. Pathetic much, her annoying inner voice wheedled.

Nick decided to let this opportunity to tease her pass, reaching his hands out and clearing her plate away. "What are you doing?” Abby frowned as he got up and started walking toward the front of the cafeteria to dispose of her garbage. She let him help her with her suede jacket, and her hazel eyes searched his face as his hand went to the small of her back, gently leading her out into the hall. “I checked your schedule. Your next appointment’s not for another couple of hours, and I’m free the rest of the afternoon.” “A couple of hours?” Abby’s forehead wrinkled in confusion, “I have Mr. Homan right after lunch.” “Not anymore,” Nick told her as they walked through the hall, side by side, “His son-in-law called and canceled it for him.” “That ass,” Abby muttered, hazel eyes bright with anger. “He has a problem with me…fine. But Mr. Homan shouldn’t miss his therapy. He’s still recovering from a stroke.” “Problem?” Nick wondered aloud. “Yeah,” Abby grumbled. “Apparently, I’m almost a dead ringer for his dead wife. Mr. Homan’s daughter,” she elaborated unnecessarily, “and it pisses the jerk off so much that he can hardly act civil around me. He says I’m feeding into Mr. Homan’s illusions that Kathy’s still alive. He didn’t take too kindly to me telling him to go to hell either.” “I imagine not,” Nick smirked, steering her toward the nearest exit. “And where are we going, Mister?” Abby smiled up at him as they stepped outside, shivering lightly as she felt the chill of the late February air wrap itself around her body in a ghostly embrace. “I don’t know,” Nick answered softly, allowing himself to act on his impulse and wrap his arms around her to share his warmth, “but does it matter?” “No,” Abby murmured just as softly, snaking her arms around his neck and tucking her tawny head beneath his chin. “I don’t guess it does.”

“I don’t get it, Uncle Hank,” MJ grumbled. “Why can’t Joshua hear yet?’ Hank gripped his nephew’s shoulders firmly as they left Miguel and the others farther and farther behind. “His implants have to be activated, MJ. They haven’t been turned on yet, but as soon as they are, your brother will hear you and your dad. Things might be a little strange and scary for him at first though so you have to be real patient. Do you think you can do that?” MJ nodded his head with only a little hesitation. He knew he wasn’t perfect. It was going to be hard, but he’d try his best to make things easier for his little brother. He had so much he wanted to say to Joshua, but most of all, he just wanted the chance to talk to him about their mom. He missed her, and he could tell Joshua missed her just as much. “Uncle Hank?” “Yeah?” Hank said, stalling his movements at the note of seriousness in MJ’s tone. “Will it be okay to talk to him about Mom? Sometimes I can’t remember the sound of her voice, and her face gets a little fuzzy. I think I’d remember her better if I talked about her, and I don’t want Joshua to forget her either. He’s littler.” Hank swallowed hard and spoke from his heart, rationalizing to himself that no matter how much it still might hurt, Miguel wouldn’t want to deny his children the comfort of Kay’s memory. “Sure. I don’t see why not. But you have to remember, MJ…your brother IS younger. And he doesn’t really understand that your mom isn’t coming back.” “Ever,” MJ finished for him solemnly. “I know, Uncle Hank. I know Mom’s never coming back,” MJ whispered sadly. “Do you think Dad would mind?” “I don’t think he’ll mind,” Hank reassured the little boy as they resumed walking through the hospital halls, passing through the children’s oncology ward and literally running into…

“Uncle Hank!” Noah exclaimed in surprise. “Did they already do it? Oh MJ,” Noah apologized, contrition in his silver-blue eyes as he knelt at MJ’s feet. “I was on my way, and I…” “It’s okay, Uncle Noah,” MJ said, grinning up into Katie’s pretty green eyes. “I know exactly why you were late.” Katie’s teeth released their tenacious hold on her bottom lip, and a moment later, all three ‘men’ found themselves returning her sweet smile. “You know, huh?” Noah chuckled, glancing at Katie out of the corner of his eyes. “You were asking Katie on another date,” MJ retorted matter-of-factly, his dark eyes sparkling mischievously as he added, “so you can kiss her.” Hank ruffled MJ’s short dark hair proudly. “Bennett bluntness,” he offered by way of explanation to Katie, whose cheeks looked to go up in flames any moment. Noah looked like he’d swallowed his own tongue. Hank pondered which one of them was in more imminent danger of running out of oxygen and decided family loyalty would have to win out. Katie didn’t exactly look horrified at the prospect of kissing his nephew, but in order for that to happen, Noah would have to still be around. Which meant suffocation was out of the question. He was about to ask Noah if he was okay, but MJ, bless his little soul, took over. “He wanted to kiss you after the first date,” MJ told Katie with a rascally grin sent Noah’s way, “but he wasn’t sure you’d like that too much. I don’t know why he didn’t kiss you on the second date though. I think he should kiss you on the third date because three strikes…” “MJ, where’d you come up with all this stuff?” Noah laughed nervously. “Uncle Hank…don’t you think you should be getting him back to school?” What the hell, Hank thought, taking pity on his nephew. He’d been in Noah’s shoes before. Still…it would have been fun watching Noah squirm his way out of a sticky situation.

Ali tiptoed into kitchen as quietly as a mouse, and when she lay her small hand on Luis’s shoulder, he almost jumped out of his skin. “AliCat, I didn’t hear you coming. Were you trying to sneak up on me?” Ali giggled softly as her daddy gathered her in his arms, scooting his chair back and settling her on his lap. She rest her head on his shoulder, and Luis rubbed his fingers over the silky pink material covering it. Luis sighed deeply as he slid his hands beneath her knees and pulled her even tighter against him, marveling at the fact that such a frail body could house such a strong spirit. “What is it, Baby? Something bothering you? Don’t feel good?” “I’m okay, Daddy,” Ali whispered in answer, tracing her little fingertips over the row of buttons lining his neat white shirt. “Something’s bothering my AliCat. I can tell,” Luis murmured against Ali’s worry-lined forehead. “Come on. You can tell Daddy anything.”

“It’s just…” Ali began, her button nose scrunching up as she paused to tickle pale pink-tipped nails over the lines of Luis’s big warm palm. “Daddy?” “Yes, Baby,” Luis replied, waiting patiently for her to let it out in her own time. “Are you and Mommy mad at each other?” “Ali,” Luis drew back in surprise, “what makes you think such a thing?” “It’s just…you and Mommy haven’t smiled at each other lately, and the only time that happens is when you’re mad at each other,” Ali told him, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as he lifted her chin with his index finger and smiled reassuringly into her enormous blue eyes. They were shimmering with unshed tears, Luis realized with regret. He cupped her sweet face in his hands and nuzzled her nose with his until he was rewarded with the welcome music of her laughter. “I’m not mad at your mommy, and she’s not mad at me,” he said, knowing in his heart that his words were true. “We just have a lot to think about.” Satisfied with his answer, Ali twined her arms around his neck, pressing her nose against the crook of his neck, “I’m glad.”

Luis tucked his sleeping angel under a mound of colorful blankets on the couch, and Cristian’s dark eyes watched over her solemnly as he crawled onto the couch beside her and stroked his tiny fingers down her soft cheek. Luis ran an affectionate hand over his son’s dark head. “Watch over her for me?” “I will, Daddy,” Cristian vowed, and Luis knew him to be true to his word. He could barely hear the muted sounds of Cristian’s cartoons as he stepped inside his and Sheridan’s darkened bedroom, and when the door closed behind him with a soft snick, the only sound he could hear was the lowered whispers of his wife’s voice. “…thanks, Ethan. I’ll get in touch with you later. Say hi to Beth for me.” Luis heard a beep signaling the phone call had been disconnected, and a moment later, the shadows in the room were chased away when Sheridan reached up to turn the lamp beside her on. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that,” Luis stated, not bothering to clarify what. He didn’t have to. Sheridan knew him well enough to KNOW what. “They seem happy,” Sheridan sighed, propping herself up against the headboard with a pillow. “Luis…you obviously wanted to talk to me or you wouldn’t have come in here. What is it? Have you changed your mind about the test?” Luis covered her hand with his own, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Ali’s hands. Sheridan’s hands were Ali’s hands. He raised conflicted brown eyes to her lovely face, and he had to look away, swallowing the hard lump of emotion that rose up in his throat, when he saw his beloved daughter’s eyes staring back at him from Sheridan’s face. It hurt, physically hurt, not to be able to give her the answer she needed so badly, but something he couldn’t quite recognize yet in his own heart was holding him back. “I can…I can’t,” he whispered harshly. “Maybe it’s the coward’s way out, but I can’t play the odds with our daughter’s life like that, Sheridan. I just can’t. We’ll find another way.” No, Ali, he thought as he watched the tears of frustration spill down his wife’s cheeks, and he saw grudging understanding reflected in her blue eyes. Mommy and Daddy aren’t mad at each other. They’re mad at the world right now.

Chapter 68

“Mmm,” Abby sighed deeply as she felt the warmth of Nick’s lips sweep across the nape of her neck. She smiled without opening her eyes as she felt his fingers dance down her bare arm, clasping the hand that rest on the pillow beside her tawny head. She turned her head on the pillow, and Nick’s lips left her shoulder, trailing kisses along her jaw and across her cheek. “Good morning,” he whispered, placing a fleeting kiss to the corner of her smiling mouth. “Sleep well?” Before Abby’s hazel eyes were fully open, they were rolling at his comment. “You know damn well I didn’t.” Nick chuckled softly, dropping another kiss on her lightly tanned shoulder before releasing his grip on her hand. “YOU kept me up all night, and now you’re waking me up at what? Four in the friggin’ morning?” Abby grumbled, her complaint turning a bit breathless when Nick's missing hand turned up again at her breast. “It’s five,” Nick corrected her, “and I didn’t hear any complaints from you last night.” Abby groaned at the teasing quality of his voice and his maddeningly capable hands, and her protest was half-hearted at best when she reminded him of their aborted date the night before. One in a long string of aborted dates. All their ‘dates’ thus far had ended up in the bedroom—in his bed—before they ever really got started. In the short month or so they’d been ‘dating,’ Abby’s bedroom had virtually been turned into a gigantic walk-in closet for all the use she got out of it. Not that she was complaining about any of it. They were more than compatible in the bedroom, and she liked his room better anyway, she thought distractedly as Nick wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back against his chest, tangling their legs together. His hand rested against her hip lazily as they moved together, and his mouth hovered close to her ear, lips brushing her lobe as he whispered to her in low, ragged tones. He wrapped his arms around her tightly like a human blanket, nuzzling the sweet-swelling skin behind her ear with his nose as their breathing calmed, and sleep dragged them under again.

“I smell like you,” Nick faked a grimace, letting his arm fall back to his side as he watched Abby squirt a generous amount of shaving cream into her palms. “It’s your fault you’re wearing me like a cheap cologne,” Abby muttered, stepping into the vee of his legs and applying the glob of shaving cream to his face. “I don’t recall inviting you to share my shower this morning,” she said, wiping her hands off on the towel draped across the edge of the sink and picking up Nick’s razor. Nick placed his hands on either side of her hips, matching Abby’s expression of extreme concentration with an intense look of his own. Her hands on his face were gentle, and her eyes sparkled with flecks of gold as she scraped the razor across his strong jaw. Nick’s hands slid lower, sweeping across the black satin bikini panties she wore as he nudged her closer to him and just breathed in her scent. “You smell like vanilla,” he sighed, his hands spanning almost the entire width of her narrow waist. “So do you,” Abby teased, dipping the razor in the glass on the sink and returning it to his face. The half-smile already on Nick’s lips broadened with her words, and he winced when he felt the sharp blade of the razor nick his skin. “Stop smiling, dammit,” Abby grumbled, the corners of her own mouth turning upward traitorously even as the command left her throat. “Sorry,” Nick lied, rubbing at the tiny cut gingerly. “I can’t seem to help myself.” “I’ll kiss it and make it better if you want,” Abby offered cheekily, combing her fingers through the lock of thick dark hair that fell boyishly across his forehead. “You will?” Nick asked hopefully in as innocent a voice as he could muster, pulling her down onto his knee. Abby nodded her tawny head with a smirk as she snaked her arms around his neck. She laughed against his mouth when he turned his cheek at the last possible moment and captured her lips in a sweet, lingering kiss. “How did I know you were going to do that?”

Abby could feel his gray gaze on her as she slowly pulled the side zipper of her black pants up her hips, and she shot him a flirty smile over her shoulder, wiggling her tawny brows suggestively before grabbing her hunter-green cowl neck sweater and sweeping it over her head. Renegade strands of tawny hair curled at the nape of her neck having escaped from her haphazardly arranged French twist, and Nick resisted the urge to press his lips again to the mole that marked the delicate skin of her neck. He watched the muscles of her throat work as she drank from the glass of orange juice he’d presented to her as soon as they’d entered the kitchen, and he frowned at her refusal of his offer to make them both breakfast. “I’ll grab something between clients,” Abby reassured him with smile. “I promised MJ I’d be there when Joshua’s implants were activated, and I’m going to be late all because of somebody,” she teased. “Come with me?” she suggested. “It’s not really my place,” Nick deflected her suggestion, “I’m not family.” “Gee, what a stupid thing to say,” Abby snorted. “I’m not family either, but I’m going. They’re friends. You don’t have to remain an outsider, you know. Come with me,” she reiterated. “The boys like you. Kay would want you there if she…” Nick hated the longing that made her hazel eyes bright with sudden, unshed tears, and he touched the pad of his thumb to her chin and brushed his lips against hers in gentle comfort. “Maybe. I need to check up on Ali first. She really should be in the hospital…” “Hey,” Abby defended, “would YOU want to celebrate your 9th birthday in the hospital? Just a couple more days won’t hurt,” she said, trying to sound convincing. “Sheridan and Luis are completely aware of the situation. They’ll check Ali in the hospital for her chemo. AFTER the party. You’re invited so you can keep a check on her yourself. Let her have her party. This one’s special.” “Okay,” Nick sighed reluctantly, “but…” “No but’s,” Abby shook her tawny head, tugging him across the apartment insistently. “Get your jacket on. You’re coming with me.” “Abby,” Nick protested half-heartedly, already realizing the futility of his objections. These days, it seemed, where she led, he followed.

“He likes her you know,” Sam whispered to Grace with a small, pleased smile sent in his son’s direction. Grace lifted her blue eyes from their study of hers and Sam’s joined hands, and a genuine smile transformed her features from their somber, lost expression, reminding Sam again of the woman he’d married and loved for so many years. “I like her too,” Grace said softly, leaning her auburn head against her husband’s strong shoulder and releasing a shaky pent-up breath. “I think Kay would give Katie her stamp of approval,” another voice, just as soft, added. “Jessica,” Grace cried, wrapping her arms around her daughter’s shoulders, “I didn’t think you were going to make it. And you have Myles and Faith with you.” Jessica gently prodded her children forward, smiling as she watched them hug their grandparents. “They wanted to be here for their cousin and to wish Ali a happy birthday,” she explained, taking the empty seat beside her mother. “Mom, where’s MJ?” “He’s in the room with Miguel and Joshua,” Sam answered for Grace, quickly returning his attention to his young granddaughter. Though there was little physical resemblance between the two, he couldn’t help but feel he was holding onto a part of his daughter’s soul with Faith in his arms. He couldn’t explain it. “Grandpa, what is it?” Faith wondered, confused when her grandfather simply wrapped his arms more tightly around her and held her close to his heart with tears in his eyes.

“Dad,” Sara whined plaintively as she stared up at her father, “I want M & M’s. You promised you’d buy them. Emmy got Pop-Tarts.” Hank sighed as he glanced at his other daughter, the sweet, easygoing one currently enjoying Noah and Katie’s company across the crowded little room. He knew that one would come back to bite him in the ass, dammit. “Sar,” Hank tried one more time to talk some sense into her, “what would Mom say if she knew I’d given you M & M’s for breakfast? Ask Emmy for one of her Pop-Tarts. They’re better for you.” Sara’s nose scrunched up in disgust as she crossed her arms over her little chest and glared at him. “Dad,” Sara rolled her brown eyes at him, a maneuver Hank could swear the kid had perfected just moments after birth. “You’re just saying that, and I know it…” “M & M’s AFTER I take you for breakfast in the cafeteria,” Hank said, laying his last cards on the table. He wondered if any other fathers had to actually NEGOTIATE with their children or was he the only one. Sara’s chin jutted out stubbornly at his pathetic efforts, and Hank had a moment’s thought that maybe in their years of friendship, Gwen and Sheridan had rubbed off on each other. If he didn’t know any better, that pose was classic Sheridan Crane from the days when she’d just as soon claw Luis’s eyes out as speak to him in a civil tongue. Oh dear God, NO! How the HELL had Sara picked up on it? “Convince Noah to take you and your sister to the Book Café. Tell him it’s on me.” “Yeah right,” Sara grumbled as she trudged away in what could only be described as a snit. “Like that’ll work.” Sarcasm? My five-year-old daughter is sarcastic, Hank thought with a groan as Tink and her much-talked about Dr. Nick made their appearance, seating themselves beside Simone and a whole gang of Lopez-Fitzgeralds. Minus Sheridan and the kids, of course. Hell. Were those two glued at the hip lately or what? Cash, he thought distractedly, digging around in his back jeans pocket for his wallet. If he gave Noah enough cash, he’d take the girls to Tahiti for breakfast. Something told him he should have let Becs take the kids again. It might have saved the meager contents of his wallet. Waiting and patience weren’t his strong suits, he realized as Grace’s sudden gasp drew his attention to the television mounted in the corner of the room, and three very familiar figures.

Anticipation had MJ’s throat dry and his palms sweaty as they clutched his dad’s hand and waited as the doctor fitted his little brother with the machine that would make him hear. A thousand thoughts zipped through MJ’s young mind, but foremost, was what would be the first thing he’d say to Joshua? He’d had the whole morning to think about that question, while Joshua had his X-ray and the doctor explained about his implants and the machine to his dad. He’d tried to pay attention, but he couldn’t help it. He was the big brother, his dad had said. The one Joshua looked up to and loved the most. So his voice was going to be the first one Joshua heard. It had to be something cool. Something important. Something a big brother would say to their little brother, and MJ didn’t have a clue because in the entire time he’d been Joshua’s 0brother, he’d never once said something to him and had him hear it. MJ had never been more scared in his life, and he wished with all his heart for his mom to be there at that moment in time to hold his hand and tell him everything was going to be okay as he waited. Waited as his little brother’s face and eyes registered the shock of hearing sounds for the very first time. Faint sounds growing into louder sounds with his big brown eyes growing bigger each time. Sounds that made Joshua’s mouth drop open, and his dark eyes search the room frantically to see where they’d come from. Sounds. Just sounds. Fascinating him and scaring him in the same instant. MJ closed his eyes as he felt his dad’s hands push him gently forward, taking a deep breath, and his mom was with him. Beside him. Holding his hand tightly as she whispered the magic words into his ear. He could still feel the moisture from her kiss to his cheek when he opened his eyes with a peaceful, confident smile on his face and tears rolling down his brown cheeks as he reached for Joshua’s little hands, repeating her words in a whisper… “Mom says she loves you.”

Joshua cried.

Chapter 69

“Aunt Theresa! Aunt Theresa!” Cristian called out in the vast emptyness that was to be his aunt Theresa’s new store—whenever she actually put something in it. “Aunt Theresa!” Cristian yelled one more time. Just for good measure. He loved how his voice echoed back to him. It was cool. “Aunt Ther…” Cristian gasped as he felt a firm hand grip his shoulder, and he whirled around, jaw still hanging open. “I think she’s upstairs, Little Man,” Chad told him with a chuckle. “Don’t you think you ought to be saving those pipes to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to our Miss Ali?” “Yeah,” Cristian answered thoughtfully. “I guess I better. What’s taking Aunt Theresa so long, Uncle Chad? Is she fixing her make-up again?”

A loud crash and the answering hurried clatter of feet down metal stairs had Chad and Cristian jumping in surprise, and Chad smirked when he discovered his fiancee kneeling at the foot of the stairs several feet away, her amused grin almost completely obscured by the thick curtain of dark hair that fell in waves around her face. Odds and ends from the box she’d been carrying were scattered everywhere, and instead of Cristian’s childish voice, her giggles were now echoing off the walls. “I heard that, you guys, and no, Cristian,” she teased, her brown eyes sparkling at her little nephew as Chad helped her to her feet, “I wasn’t doing my make-up. Some things don’t change though. I’m still as much a klutz as ever.”

Cristian and Chad exchanged knowing smiles, speaking in unison, “Yeah, you are.” “Thanks,” Theresa muttered sarcastically, packing the last item back in the box and handing it over to Chad before offering her hand to Cristian. “Ready?” she asked, smiling as she was practically blind-sided by the little boy’s ever-increasing likeness to her own brother. “Uh huh,” Cristian nodded, taking her hand without hesitation and falling into step beside her as they exited the building and waited for Chad to lock everything up. “Is Ali’s present in there?” Cristian finally asked, his curiosity getting the better of him as Theresa buckled him into the back seat of Chad’s car. “Sort of,” Theresa told him. “What is it? You can tell me, Aunt Theresa. I’ll give you TEN hugs,” Cristian bargained. He was already shaping up to be a shrewd businessman, zeroing in on what he guessed to be all the ladies’ Achilles heels. “But Cristian,” Theresa mock-pouted, “I thought those hugs were free. If I tell you, it’ll ruin the surprise.”

“I’m real good at keeping secrets, Aunt Theresa. Really I am.” “Sure you are, Little Man,” Chad said supportively, hiding his tickled smirk from his favorite little fella as he remembered fondly just a few incidents where Cristian’s honesty proved him to be a terrible secret keeper. Hank, Abby, and his girl could vouch for that. Just to name a few people. “Patience, Cristian,” Theresa scolded lightly, smiling when the realization that she sounded just like her mama brought about the memory of how little an impact that one word had always had on her, and if Cristian were anything, ANYTHING at all like her, he’d… “But Aunt Theresa…” Cristian whined plaintively, confused brown eyes meeting Chad’s dark eyes in the reflection of the rear view mirror the moment his aunt Theresa burst into another fit of giggles. Sometimes, Aunt Theresa was just STRANGE.

Sheridan stepped back from the kitchen archway with a frown. Ali’s birthday banner STILL wasn’t high enough, and Luis hadn’t returned from his stint playing chauffeur to a squad of squealing, giggling little girls. She couldn’t rest until the banner was perfect, and the way it was drooping so low now, Hank was going to have to duck to walk under it. And Hank was…shorter than his wife, for goodness’ sake. Sheridan tugged her bottom lip between her teeth and chewed on it fretfully as her blue eyes darted over her shoulder to make sure no one else was in sight. She rubbed a soothing hand over her rounded belly as she padded into the kitchen on bare feet in search of the stepladder Luis had tried (unsuccessfully) to hide from her. “I won’t tell Daddy if you won’t,” she muttered as she climbed onto the small ladder, swearing softly under her breath when she heard her best friend’s voice behind her. “But Gwen will. Sheridan, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Gwen scolded as she tugged insistently at Sheridan’s arm, pulling her into a quick hug of greeting as soon as they both stood on level ground. “Don’t pay any attention to Aunt Gwen’s foul mouth,” Sheridan whispered to the restless babe inside her womb, arching a golden brow at Gwen in unfeigned exasperation. “It was three little steps, Gwen. I could have handled them just fine. Geez, you’re starting to sound like everyone else. If you start walking on eggshells around me too, Gwen, I don’t know what I’ll do,” Sheridan sighed, letting herself be drawn back into Gwen’s friendly embrace. “Maybe just a couple eggshells,” Gwen teased as she pulled back to smile into Sheridan’s tired blue eyes. “Where is everybody? I thought this was a party.”

“I could ask the same thing,” Sheridan laughed, walking toward her bedroom and trusting Gwen to follow. “Hank’s got the kids. I thought I’d come early to help on any last-minute decorations, but I didn’t think I’d be the only one. How early am I? Pilar’s not even here yet, and she’s as meticulous about these things as you are, Sher.” Sheridan poked her blond head around the edge of the open bathroom door, and Gwen smirked at her rolling blue eyes. “Pilar and Martin are at the hospital checking on Joshua’s progress with his therapy, but you should know that. Luis took it upon himself to pick up all the little friends Ali invited to the party, and he’s got Ali and Lissy with him…” “Lissy’s a good kid,” Gwen commented, more to herself than to Sheridan, but Sheridan heard her and agreed with her assessment of the tawny-haired little girl with the enormous chocolate eyes. “Yeah, but I think she scared Cristian a little bit when she just happened to mention she wanted to marry him when he grew up so she and Ali could be sisters,” Sheridan’s smile was a bit tight this time as she reentered the bedroom in her red silk robe and walked straight to the closet she and Luis shared. “He’s with Chad and Theresa. He’s always with Chad and Theresa. Gwen, I’m starting to think my son would rather have Chad and Theresa for parents than me and Luis because we’ve both missed so much these past few months. He doesn’t complain, but still…”

“Pardon my French, Sher,” Gwen sighed heavily as she pushed herself off the edge of the bed and come to a standstill directly behind Sheridan, “but that’s bull golly , and you know it. Cristian loves you and Luis both. What is it, Sher? What’s making you act this way? Is it Ali? Are you worried about her? Because she’s in the best care she could possibly be in, and I’d think you’d have more faith in Nick. Abby or no Abby, the man still worships YOU, and he’s not going to let you down if he can possibly help it.” Sheridan lowered her head, fingering the soft material of the sweater she clutched in both hands. “Don’t say that. Please, don’t say that, Gwen. I don’t…” “I know you don’t,” Gwen sighed, resting her chin on Sheridan’s silk-covered shoulder, “but for whatever reason, the man’s still hung up on you, and my husband could spit nails right now. This soup’s been simmering long enough. Bennett’s words, NOT mine. He just doesn’t want it all to boil over, especially in a time like this, and burn everybody.” “You just got to love Hank’s analogies, huh?” Sheridan tried to make light of the situation as she rest her head against Gwen’s blond head, but inside she felt a tight fist of dread squeezing her heart. It was the little things, building to a slow crescendo, that made her feel uneasy, not any doubt of her own feelings. She felt as if she were being pulled further and further out to sea by an invisible undertow, and calming down long enough to catch her breath was getting more difficult by the minute. She couldn’t live with the pressure of keeping a secret from Luis. She turned around slowly to face Gwen, and her voice wavered as she spoke. “I don’t know how much more of this I can deal with before I scream.” Gwen took a deep breath, and her golden brown eyes never left Sheridan’s blue irises as she offered a suggestion with a shrug of her shoulders. “Well, then…scream.”

The screaming fits of two former debutante blondes a thing of the immediate past, the Casa de Lo-Fitz soon started filling up with friends and family. Luis arrived with an entourage of adoring, ever-giggling little girls following him and gazing up at him with worshipful eyes. It was cute to the extreme, Sheridan thought, snapping picture after picture, especially how Luis only had eyes for his AliCat. She lowered the camera, fixing her gaze on the two of them, and she realized no camera could fully capture the love in Luis’s deep brown eyes as he held their daughter in his strong arms. And she felt another wave of disappointment wash through her at Luis’s refusal to go through with the test. How could he not? When he loved her so very, very much? “Give me that, Mija,” Pilar interrupted her troubling thoughts by reaching for the camera. “I’ll take the pictures. Enjoy Ali’s party with her.” “Thanks, Pilar,” Sheridan smiled gratefully, giving Pilar’s hand a gentle squeeze before she started walking across the living room to her husband and daughter. She paused in the middle of the room awkwardly when Jake and Faith whisked Ali outside with the rest of the kids, and she felt her heart lodge in her throat as Luis’s dark eyes stared intensely into her own. “Good grief, are you about to pop that baby out yet or not?”

Sheridan felt laughter bubble up at the incredulous look in Abby’s hazel eyes as she rest her hands on her abdomen. “She’s got three more months or so, and she’s going to make her grand entrance. Are you calling me fat, Abby?” “No,” Abby grinned, tossing one tawny braided pigtail over her shoulder, “but you’re awfully lucky you’re not a midget like me or Bennett.” “You ARE calling me fat!” Sheridan scoffed. “Whatever,” Abby rolled her hazel eyes at her good-naturedly. “What are you two squabbling about now?” Gwen joined the playful conversation, brown eyes lighting up with appreciation that Abby’s efforts had already paid off. “I’m jumping her ass for not visiting me more often lately. I think she’s been avoiding me. What do you think?” Abby turned to Gwen for her opinion. “Sounds about right,” Gwen agreed. “She hasn’t been to the house much either, but that COULD be due to the three little monsters that currently reside there along with me and Bennett and an insanely annoying pug.” “I told you that you should have named that fiend Becky,” Abby muttered, grabbing a chip from a bowl as soon as they entered the kitchen and popping it into her mouth. “No offense, Gwen, but Gus bears an uncanny resemblance to your mother,” Abby mumbled around a mouthful of chips. Gwen shook her head in amusement as she grabbed a handful of chips of her own. “So, Abby…you look more…relaxed…than I’ve ever seen you,” Gwen said, a wicked gleam in her golden brown eyes. “Is sex with Dr. Nick that good?” Abby choked, sending chips down her windpipe, and Sheridan was afraid she’d turn blue before Gwen thrust a glass of water at her. “Hell,” Abby sputtered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, “give me fair warning next time. One minute we’re talking about Becs’s resemblance to your pug, then we shift to my sex life. You could have traumatized me for life, Gwen. Thanks.” “You’re welcome,” Gwen grinned, winking at Sheridan. Sheridan smiled softly as she regarded the extra sparkle in Abby’s already twinkling hazel eyes, and she wondered silently if Nick was even half as happy as Abby seemed to be. She hoped so. Very much.

“Sheridan,” Theresa peered around the kitchen door, smiling brightly. “Sam, Grace, and Miguel are on their way with the boys. Ethan and Beth called too. They’re bringing Ivy with them. Do you need any help getting things set up?” “She’s got enough hands in here, Theresa. Why don’t you take care of the presents?” Gwen suggested, pulling a match out of its box, poised to light the nine pale pink candles arranged in a corner of the gooey chocolate cake that’d always been Ali’s favorite. “Do you think we should tell the kids to come back inside yet?” Sheridan asked, removing the ice cream from the freezer. “I’ll do it,” Abby offered gamely, sweeping past Chad as he shepherded a newly made-up Cristian and a slightly guilty-looking Emily into the kitchen to take their seats at the table. “Emmy! What’d you do to him?” Gwen cried, wiping roughly at Cristian’s perpetually blushing pink cheeks with a rag. “Whose make-up did you get into THIS time?” “Aunt Theresa’s,” Cristian muttered disgustedly, “get it off. Please.” Sheridan hid her smile from her son, locking eyes with Chad across the room. “Chad, tell Theresa I’ll buy her some new make-up,” Sheridan said, taking glasses out of the cupboards for the adults. “No, no, Chad,” Gwen sighed, standing up and turning Cristian’s face from side to side to make sure she hadn’t missed a spot, “I’ll buy it. This one’s Emmy’s fault. You owe Cristian’s aunt Theresa an apology, Emmy.” “I’m sorry,” Emmy pouted, clasping her little hands in her lap as a tear rolled down her cheek and fell from her chin. “They’re too sweet,” Theresa sighed as she entered the kitchen, smiling at Cristian petting Emmy to make her feel better. “They have their moments,” Gwen admitted with a small smile, “where are all the kids? Abby should have…oh God…” Theresa’s dark eyes widened as Gwen’s face blanched deathly pale, and Chad felt his heart stop in his chest when Sara and Lissy burst through the front door, screaming hysterically. “Ms. Sheridan! Ms. Sheridan!” Lissy screamed as Luis grabbed her by her slim shoulders and looked into her terrified chocolate eyes. “She’s dead!” “Who, Lissy? Who’s hurt?” Hank questioned as Luis, Chad, and Nick raced out the door without waiting for an answer, and Gwen, Theresa, and Pilar found themselves unable to breathe. “She’s dead,” Lissy sobbed harder, unable to answer Hank in her state of shock. “Sara?” Hank’s voice came out strangled. “Sara, who’s Lissy…who’s de…who is it, Sar?” Sara’s chin trembled, and her young brown eyes were tortured as they rest on Sheridan. Glass shattered all around Sheridan as two syllables left Sara’s sad mouth…

“Ali.”

Part Nine