One of the kid’s cries filters into my office from the backyard. Maybe one of them fell and got hurt. The cry gets louder and triggers my internal alarm. Something’s wrong.
I head to the kitchen and crane my neck over the sink, and my gaze rakes through the yard, but I don’t see the twins. I shift my body weight to peer out the window towards ’Li’s lounge chair and—no D’lilah.
Where is . . .? Oh no!
I was supposed to be watching them. My body responds on instinct. I race to the backdoor and outside, blood pounding in my ears. My eyes scan, searching the area. My glare swings to movement under the patio table. Ryder is hunched over, his face bright red from screaming, and tears flow down his cheeks.
I crouch and hold out my arms. “Come here, buddy.”
He screams louder, his eyes fixed on a spot behind me. I turn, expecting to see what’s got him so upset, but there’s nothing there. “Are you hurt?” He doesn’t seem to be injured, but his piercing cry sounds like pure pain. What the fuck is going on? His little arm rises and points over my shoulder. “I don’t underst— Wait, where’s . . . ?
My heart stills; my breath freezes in my lungs. Where’s Rosie?
In slow motion, my vision shifts to the pool. The water ripples distort a tiny figure at the bottom. Dressed in pink. Lifeless.
I move and dive. Cold water rushes up my nose. My eyes scan, hands search. I grab her, pulling her up with me, surfacing for the life-giving air.
I gasp for it.
She doesn’t.
Out of the pool, I lay her body on the table. My mouth on hers, I blow. Nothing.
I press on her chest. “One, two . . . come on.”
Mouth again. Breathe.
The back door slams. “Cam, what . . .?” The guttural roar of my wife’s screams shreds through my skull. Words, questions, all of them are distorted by her wailing.
“Call 911!” I work harder. Water drips from my hair to her face that’s no longer flushed pink with life, but tinged with gray. God, please. Don’t let her die.
“No! Come back, Rosie!” I pump her tiny chest. “One, two, three . . .”
Breathe.
More screaming. D’lilah’s and Ryder’s cries mix in palpable agony. Rosie’s body jerks from the force of my hands. I put my ear to her heart. Nothing. Her mouth. Nothing.
“Don’t give up!” A sob chokes me. Push. “One, two, three . . .”
Breathe.
“Rosie, please!” I push over her heart. Again. Again. “One, two, three. . .”
Breathe.
“Fight for me, baby.”
Breathe.
Breathe.
Don’t let go.
I press my ear to her chest. Nothing.
Please, God . . . no.
My legs wobble.
Knees buckle.
And for the first time in my life . . .
I fall.
One
Present Day
Eve
“I hate you. Like honest to goodness from the depths of hell kind of hate.”
A slow grin pulls at Raven’s mouth. “Liar.”
We’re in another standoff, this time in my kitchen and way too friggin’ early in the morning. I should’ve known she didn’t just drop by to say hi as her sweet, innocent voice explained when she came knocking at my door at the butt-crack of dawn.
“Thanks for the coffee, but the answer is still no.” I rip open two packets of sugar and dump them into the liquid gold she shoved into my face when she walked in. “Why are you up so early anyway?”
She points to her swollen belly. “I have a human tornado playing jump rope with my guts. Hard to sleep with Cirque de Bebe going on behind my belly button.”
“That’s disgusting. I’m never getting pregnant.” I keep my eyes on my coffee and hope she doesn’t see the disappointment that weighs heavily in my chest.
“Come out with us. This fight means a lot to their camp, and we need to show Blake and Rex our support.”
I groan at her stubbornness. “Nice try. I know you’re trying to set me up again.”
She pins me with that blue-green glare, but I don’t miss the twitch of her lips. She thinks this is a joke?
I point in her face and scowl. “You promised you’d back off and stop dragging me out with a gang of hot dudes. They don’t do it for me, you know that.” Such. A. Lie.
She loses the battle with her mouth and grins.
I cross my arms over my chest. “What’s it going to take for me to get you to understand?”
Her eyes sparkle with restrained laughter, her eyebrows raise, and she curls her lips between her teeth.
“It’s not funny.” I glare at her cute, pregnant, happier-than-a-dick-in-jelly expression. God, she’s pissing me off. “Newsflash. I’m gay!”
The tension in her face explodes, and a burst of laughter shoots from her lips. A quick snort-suck of oxygen and she dissolves into body-racking laughter. She holds her belly, taking in deep breaths. “Stop . . . making me . . . laugh. I’m gonna pee.”
“I’m not trying to make you laugh.” I stomp and throw a dishtowel at her head. “I’m being serious.”
She hops from foot to foot, shaking her head to send her dark wavy hair cascading over her shoulders. And—surprise, surprise—she’s still laughing.