Worth It All (The McKinney Brothers #3)

Her daughter hadn’t been around many kids, not because of her leg, more location and time. The trailer park in Texas was mostly older people now, not a lot of playdates going on.

“I’m losing a tooth,” the boy said.

“I already lost one,” Caroline followed, pulling at her gums to show off her empty space.

“Very nice,” Jake said. “This is Casey. She’s about the same age as you. She’s going into kindergarten. Casey, this is Cole and Caroline.”

Casey laid a hand on Jake’s thigh and edged deeper into the shelter his big body made.

“We already did kindergarten. We’re in first,” Cole said.

“About to be in first,” his sister corrected.

“JT’s our uncle,” Cole announced, staking a claim.

“He’s my best friend,” Casey countered. “We have the same leg.”

She stuck out her pink and white tennis shoe, showing off the new prosthesis below her ruffled knee-length skirt. “Me and Jake and a robot made it and Jake has one too.”

She’d gone with a black and purple socket at the top and a silver pylon with a small, hot-pink ring of titanium where the pylon joined the foot, her own design choice. So far so good. She loved it. Jake had done that, Paige thought, her heart nearly bursting as it had done when he’d given it to Casey. Caroline and Cole stared at the prosthesis Casey so proudly showed off, and Paige held her breath.

“Why do you have it?” Cole asked.

“My other one didn’t grow right, so when I was a baby they cut it off.”

Cole’s eyebrows rose and he looked at Casey, then her leg, his expression clearly that of a six-year-old boy impressed. “Cool.”

Cool obviously trumped blood relation in the eyes of a six-year-old, and Cole was now way more focused on Casey than on Jake.

“Want to play?” Caroline asked her.

“Okay.”

To her amazement, Casey followed Caroline and Cole across the room and around a corner without even looking back.

“Well,” Jake said straightening, a touch of disappointment on his handsome face. “I think I’ve been replaced.”

“Send Paige in here,” Hannah called out to him from the kitchen.

Jake sent her a questioning look.

“I’m good. I’ll go do…girl stuff.” Whatever that was. She passed the line of men walking out, looking like they’d been exiled, and joined the women in the kitchen. They scooted their stools over at the island to make room for her.

“Here, taste this.” Hannah slid over a dish of some hot, cheesy dip, and she grabbed a chip.

“Mmm. That’s delicious.”

“I know, right? Marge brought it.”

“I feel bad I didn’t bring anything,” she said.

“Please. You’re our guest. Thanks for putting up with us. Maybe not what you had in mind when you agreed to go on a trip with JT.”

“What? No. I didn’t have anything in mind. It’s for Casey.”

“Right,” Beth said, and the women exchanged smiles and knowing looks.

A group of kids came through, saving her from more speculation. They gave Paige a job of putting serving spoons in all the side dishes, which made her feel less awkward. She listened to the women talk about recipes and their kids’ eating habits. They seemed like sisters, yet except for Lizzie they’d each married into this family.

Minutes later, Stephen joined them and circled behind Hannah. “Why aren’t you sitting down?”

“Because I feel fine standing?”

He kissed her neck, whispered something against her ear that made her laugh. His free hand came around and caressed her belly, and she angled her head back to smile at him again.

A strange emptiness settled in Paige’s stomach. She didn’t think too much about having more children, but she’d like to. In her ideal life, living in her ideal house with the picket fence, she’d have two, maybe three. She smiled, thinking what a good big sister Casey would make.

Did Jake want that? She froze with the last spoon in her hand. Why did it hinge on Jake?





Chapter 22


Feeding all the kids first was an event and the noise rose to new decibels, but the older kids helped. Soon it was the adults’ turn and Jake stayed right with her, guiding her along the buffet Hannah had set out before them.

“I told you it was a lot of people,” he whispered into her ear. “And this isn’t even all of them.”

“It’s perfect.” It seemed everyone was talking at once, but no one had trouble hearing the person they were supposed to be listening to. Plates were filled, drinks were poured, and the youngest kids were set up in the kitchen with some older ones to supervise.

They carried their plates from the kitchen and sat around the great room wherever they could find a seat. Kids went in and out, asking for more and relaying minor transgressions. There was no way to tell who belonged to whom, and it didn’t seem to matter.

They ate and talked, and it was so much like a party it was hard to believe it was all family. One big family and then lots of little families inside it. She tried to keep up, just so she could remember who was who, but it was like playing how many triangles do you see inside the big triangle.

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