“You okay?” I asked.
He jerked his head in a nod. “That interview with the nanny candidate went longer than expected.”
“How’d it go?” Holt asked.
The first few interviews had been disasters: a woman who acted more like a drill sergeant, one Lawson had said spent more time coming on to him than answering questions, and another who had only seemed interested in Lawson’s cable package and snack selection.
Lawson swallowed, his throat working as his hand flexed. “Good.”
Nash arched a brow. “That’s all you’re giving us? You sound like Roan used to.”
“Yeah, man. At least give us another hilarious interview story,” Caden said. “I’ve been living for those.”
“She’s nice. I hired her,” Lawson said.
Holt sent the rest of us a quizzical look. “What’s her name?”
“Hallie.” Lawson cleared his throat. “We’ve actually met before. A long time ago.”
My brows rose at that.
“Where?” Nash asked.
A knock sounded on the door. “I’ll get it,” I said.
Crossing the room, I pulled it open and froze.
Aspen stood in the hall, creating an image that would be burned into my brain for all eternity. She was always beautiful, whether working at The Brew, mucking out stalls, or simply laughing. She could steal my breath anytime. But this was something different.
Her red hair was curled in loose waves around her face, and whatever she’d done with her makeup made her green eyes pierce straight to my soul. And the dress...
I’d never given a damn about a dress until this one. The straps were a see-through gauzy fabric that made it seem like it was being held up by nothing at all, dipping into a V at the front, showing just a tease of the swells beneath. It hugged her body and then flared out at the waist in layers of delicate fabric with flowers embroidered on them.
“Tender Heart,” I croaked.
The corner of her mouth kicked up. “You like it?”
“Never seen a more beautiful sight.”
“Roan,” she whispered, emotion clogging her throat.
“Mama, now?” Cady asked at her side.
It was then that I finally took in my Tiny Dancer. She wore a dress similar to her mom’s but in a pale pink with larger flowers.
Aspen grinned. “We were supposed to do this after the ceremony, but someone didn’t want to wait.”
Cady bit her lip and tugged on her mom’s arm. Aspen bent, and Cady whispered in her ear. “What if he doesn’t like it? What if he doesn’t want to?”
I crouched low, taking in the box in Cady’s hand. “You know I’m gonna love whatever you give me because it’s from you.”
Cady’s eyes got glassy, but she still looked a little unsure.
Aspen crouched, too, the fabric of her dress swirling around her. “Sometimes, we just gotta be brave, Katydid. It can feel scary to show people just how much we love them, but Roan loves you right back.”
“To the moon and the stars, Tiny Dancer,” I said.
Cady looked at me, hope in those green eyes. She slowly handed me the box.
I carefully undid the ribbon and opened the lid. There was a stack of papers inside. I scanned the first few lines, and then my gaze jerked to Aspen. “Is this what I think it is?”
Aspen’s eyes filled. “We went to see a lawyer in town, and he helped us with the paperwork. You just have to sign, and then we file.”
“You wanna be my real dad, Mr. Grizz?” Cady asked.
The burn of tears built in my eyes. “Nothing would make me happier, Tiny Dancer.”
She flew at me then. I stood, lifting her into the air, then wrapped Aspen in with us. “Not sure how I got so lucky with these girls of mine.”
Aspen pressed her lips to my throat. “Love you, Roan.”
“In this life and beyond,” I whispered back.
EPILOGUE
ASPEN
TWELVE YEARS LATER
I paced back and forth along the foyer of our home. The space had seen so much life. Racing through it to get to the car when my water broke the first time. The boys’ first steps. Photos of Cady’s first school dance. Roan carrying Chauncey to the car when we had to say goodbye and then welcoming a new three-legged puppy he’d brought home six months later.
We’d seen a million ups and downs in this home and the beautiful life we’d built. But I wasn’t sure I’d ever been this nervous.
My pacing picked up speed as I worried the corner of my thumbnail.
“What’s your deal, Mom?” Max asked from the couch, not looking away from the TV that housed his precious video game.
“Yeah,” Max’s twin brother, Colin, echoed as he hit a series of buttons on the controller. “You went wired after Dad called.”
Lewis looked up from his book at his spot by the window. “Everything okay?”
I nodded like one of those bobblehead dolls. “Everything’s fine.”
Max snorted. “Your voice gets all high-pitched when you lie.”
“It does not.” I winced as my tone went shrill.
Colin burst out laughing. “The only time she was worse than this was when she had to tell Dad that Cady had her first date.”
I grimaced at the reminder. Roan had not taken his baby girl growing up well. It helped that we’d have our three boys for a few more years, but Cady was getting ready to fly the nest.
Lewis’s brows lifted. “Cady isn’t getting married, is she?”
That had the twins’ gazes shooting to me.
“No, no, no. Nothing like that,” I promised. My girl was eighteen. Way too young to be thinking about that.
The sound of tires crunching on gravel had my nerves ratcheting up another few levels. My hands fisted as my palms went damp. A car door closed. Then there were footsteps outside.
He’d texted from the post office on his way home from his SAR meeting. Much to his chagrin, the community’s perception of him changed once people started seeing him with Cady. They saw the gentleness I had from that very first meeting. Now, he was constantly asked to serve on volunteer committees, sports teams, and everything in between.
The door swung open, and Roan filled the space. It didn’t matter if it had been twelve minutes or twelve years, I never tired of looking at my husband—his broad shoulders and muscled form, gorgeous face, now with a few lines from smiling and laughing, and his hair peppered with gray. But those blue eyes stayed the same.
“It came?” I whispered.
Roan closed the distance between us and handed me the envelope.
It looked like any business envelope, except the top of the return address read American Ballet Theatre. My fingers rubbed circles on the paper. “It’s thin.”
It hurt to even say the words. My girl had fallen in love with dance. She’d been enamored with it from the moment she started, but as she’d gotten older, it had become clear that not only did she love it, but she was also incredibly talented. She’d done classes, camps, and even a special summer program in New York.