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In honor of Mother's Day here in the US this coming Sunday, I wanted to showcase stories with strong, influential mother figures. I say "mother figures" because it isn't always a mom, sometimes it isn't even family, sometimes it can be a stranger who steps up and fills in. Some aren't necessarily even a lengthy factor in the story, perhaps it's even just one chapter, or a flashback, etc. The mother figure has however, left a lasting impression on the characters, the story, and the reader. For Mother's Day 2023, along with great motherly figures later in the week I wanted to showcase Mothers-from-Hell stories too, they may not all be from-Hell bad but bad enough not to be good, in my opinion😉. I find bad parental figures help shape the characters, intentionally or not, make them stronger and in doing so make the story even more brilliant. If you have any recommendations for bad motherly figures in the LGBTQIA genre, be sure and comment below or on the social media post that may have brought you here. The purchase links below are current as of the original posting but if they don't work be sure to check the authors' websites for up-to-date information.
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The Soldier and the Bodyguard by RJ Scott
Summary:Ellery Mountain #10
Someone wants JC dead, and Adrian is the only thing standing in the way. Has war followed them home? Or is something more sinister at play?
JC struggles to understand his place in the world, and despite being wealthy beyond imagination, he’s never found real happiness outside of his friendship with Adrian. Enlisting in the army is his attempt at finding purpose, but tragedy strikes, and only the Ellery Veterans Center can help put back the pieces of his shattered life. With a bullet fragment in his brain and seemingly no chance of ever being the man he once was, he begins to lose hope.
Adrian didn’t hesitate to follow his best friend to war, but with their unit decimated in an ambush and JC bleeding into the dirt, Adrian buries his hopes for the future to keep the man he loves safe. Acting as JC’s bodyguard means he is secure for now, but threats from an unknown person escalate to attempted murder, and Adrian has no choice but to take JC and run. When the Sanctuary Foundation intervenes and takes them into their care, they might be safe, but revealed secrets could destroy everything.
Sometimes, even if love finds a way through tragedy, it can be impossible to imagine forever.
This book features characters from my action-adventure romantic suspense Sanctuary series, but you do not have to have read Sanctuary to enjoy this story. This best-friend-to-lover, hurt-comfort romance has bodyguards, threats, found family, and a guaranteed love-filled happily ever after.
Original Review November Book of the Month 2022:
RJ Scott has done it once again! Turned me into a blubbery mess all the while making my heart warm with this tale of love, friendship, recovery, healing, drama, and of course a hint of mystery. For those who have read the previous entries in Ellery Mountain, I would say The Soldier and the Bodyguard probably touches a little more on the mystery element and as good as it is(kept me guessing to almost the reveal) it is not the dominate factor. Just a great multi-genre blend all the way around.
As a 24/7 family caregiver, I purposely held off on reading Soldier until November so I could fully appreciate the caregiving element for National Family Caregiver Month. The author gets Adrian's desire and frustration spot on, for a caregiver to find the right balance between assistance and letting the loved one do for themselves is often the hardest part of one's day. Through Adrian's inner monologue we can literally see that scale(the caregiver's brain) waffling between too much and not enough.
Don't mistake my above comment as the author trying to teach a lesson, this Ellery entry is 150% entertaining but just knowing the author put that much heart into that aspect of Adrian's role in JC's life made this story even better. I just really have a greater sense of respect for an author who "gets it", be it through thorough research or personal experience, that blend of reality and fiction can really be a "make or break" moment for me. RJ Scott definitely makes it.
I don't want to touch too much on JC only because I'm afraid once I start talking about this brilliantly created character I'm going to give too much of the mystery factor away and as you know I'm a spoiler-free kind of person. I will say that his journey is equally heartbreaking and heartwarming. The pain alone, both physical and emotional, brought tears to my eyes but knowing he gets up everyday despite it also made me smile. Some days he may have had to force himself and some days it may have been all Adrian's doing but whatever the reason he still did it. That tells me all I need to know about the kind of man JC is so there is no way I am not rooting for him.
Caregiving doesn't have to be long term, it can be short term as well but it's always ongoing and constant while needed. Through JC and Adrian's friendship as well as their individual inner monologues, RJ Scott lets us see that. Sometimes that constant need can be hard but also rewarding and it's their friendship that shows that the most but it also helps strengthen the love.
Okay, I know I'm talking about the caregiving element too much but as a caregiver it is a subject that is close to my heart and one that when done so accurately, I need to showcase it. I apologize for being too wordy on the subject.
One more thing I want to mention and that is the inclusion of members of the author's Sanctuary series. It's been awhile since I read that one but I remembered the characters instantly and found them to be just as enjoyable now as when I first discovered them.
So to sum up this overly wordy review: The Soldier and the Bodyguard is amazing and edge of your seat heartbreaking yet uplifting, a winner from beginning to end.
Summary:
Tidal #2
A love worth the wait.
When Riley Porter-Wright comes out as bisexual and confesses his feelings for Carter Hamilton, it severs their friendship. Carter’s rejection forces Riley to move on and he’s shocked to learn Carter’s marriage has fallen apart.
Overwhelmed by his failure as a husband and father, Carter misses Riley, but feels guilty for disappearing after Riley's coming out. After Riley extends an olive branch, the former friends agree to repair their relationship.
Slowly, Carter pieces together a new life. He admits his attraction to men, and confesses his feelings for Riley. Leery of Carter's initial rejection, Riley turns his focus on a new man, Will Martin.
Riley and Carter’s renewed rapport intensifies, and Will becomes insecure. Will's resentment increases until he issues an ultimatum, forcing Riley to refocus his energies away from Carter.
Disappointed, Carter fosters new friendships with men like Jesse Murtagh. Aware of the changes in Carter’s life, Riley is uncomfortable knowing Carter has moved on.
Carter and his ex-wife, Kate, navigate new waters as their children learn their parents are dating other people. Will can’t deal with his jealousy and ends his relationship with Riley.
Unattached for the first time in years, Riley and Carter slowly transition their friendship into a relationship. Carter comes out and leaves his job, accepting the reality of being disowned.
Riley and Carter go public with their relationship, but worry the fallout will affect their families. Drawing strength from each other, they meet the challenges of being an out couple head on.
💔💫💞Reader Advisory: This book contains polyamory and infidelity.💞💫💔
When Riley Porter-Wright comes out as bisexual and confesses his feelings for Carter Hamilton, it severs their friendship. Carter’s rejection forces Riley to move on and he’s shocked to learn Carter’s marriage has fallen apart.
Overwhelmed by his failure as a husband and father, Carter misses Riley, but feels guilty for disappearing after Riley's coming out. After Riley extends an olive branch, the former friends agree to repair their relationship.
Slowly, Carter pieces together a new life. He admits his attraction to men, and confesses his feelings for Riley. Leery of Carter's initial rejection, Riley turns his focus on a new man, Will Martin.
Riley and Carter’s renewed rapport intensifies, and Will becomes insecure. Will's resentment increases until he issues an ultimatum, forcing Riley to refocus his energies away from Carter.
Disappointed, Carter fosters new friendships with men like Jesse Murtagh. Aware of the changes in Carter’s life, Riley is uncomfortable knowing Carter has moved on.
Carter and his ex-wife, Kate, navigate new waters as their children learn their parents are dating other people. Will can’t deal with his jealousy and ends his relationship with Riley.
Unattached for the first time in years, Riley and Carter slowly transition their friendship into a relationship. Carter comes out and leaves his job, accepting the reality of being disowned.
Riley and Carter go public with their relationship, but worry the fallout will affect their families. Drawing strength from each other, they meet the challenges of being an out couple head on.
💔💫💞Reader Advisory: This book contains polyamory and infidelity.💞💫💔
When last we saw Riley Porter-Wright and Carter Hamilton, Riley had recently come out and admitted he was bisexual but Carter wasn't open to Riley's new found freedom and in the process wasn't there when his best friend needed his support. Now, as Carter's marriage has fallen apart, as disappointed as Riley was by the lack of support from his friend he decides to reach out to Carter and together they decide to rebuild their friendship. Calm focuses on Carter's acceptance of his sexuality and explores his attraction to men all while repairing his much loved friendship with Riley. As well, we see Riley himself has a new man in his life, Will Martin. Will the boys' new found self-acceptance lead them to a better direction, not only in love but also with family, friends, and each other?
I am just going to start by saying WOW!!! As much as I loved Wake, Calm surpasses it. I pretty much touched on as much of the plot as I am going to in the above paragraph so let me just say that there is so much heart in this story, frankly I can't think of a more appropriate word to describe it than "heart". As with Wake, there is a little bit of everything in here: family(both good and bad), heat, passion, and even though this duology is a love story, for me it's even more a tale about friendship and discovery.
I won't lie, I was not overly happy with Carter when book one ended but the author's assured me that his journey was really only beginning and they were right of course. I love both men but I do think Riley tugged on my heart a little more, simply because he was the first to accept himself and a part of me just can't forget how Carter basically turned his back on his friend. Having said that, Carter will break your heart with the struggle he faces but he doesn't let himself get beaten down, he's a fighter even when he doesn't see it in himself.
Not only are you getting an amazingly well written story with intriguing characters but you may walk away learning something about yourself or at the very least, be reminded of what's really important in life. It may seem a cliche but happiness is not about the things or the stature but the people and emotions they fire up within you. Calm will leave you breathless, will leave you in tears, will break your heart but it also warms you, makes you smile, and can open your mind and heart to the possibilities out there, not to mention showing you just how important friendship truly is.
I can't wait to see what these two bring us in the future, both solo and combined efforts. Brigham Vaughn has firmly set her place on my favorite author's list and K Evan Coles is well on her way to being there too. When I first decided to go from reading slash fanfiction to published work, I asked some of my reading BFFs where to start, well it was K that first suggested I start with RJ Scott's Texas series and it has come full circle because now I am loving K's own work.
RATING:
Mountain Springs Omega #3
Mason's hated Valentine's Day ever since his fiance broke off their engagement on that most romantic of holidays.
Ten years after his alpha ended their engagement, Mason still feels the hurt and does everything he can to not thing about his lost love or the holiday. But being Mountain Springs' only chocolatier, he doesn't have the luxury of hiding from the day like he'd prefer.
Devon just wants to protect his omega, even though he knows he hurt him.
Ending the engagement was the last thing Devon wanted to do, but he needed to protect his omega, and at the time he thought it was the only solution. Now there's an arsonist running around Mountain Springs, and Mason's shop is in the crosshairs. Devon realizes he'll have to hurt his love again in order to protect him.
When both men are frced to confront the past in prder to prevent calamity, will their history get in the way, or is a little heat just what it takes to bring them back together?
Recipe for Romance
One Protective Alpha
One Emotionally Scarred Omega
1 Failed Engagement
1 Chocolate Shop
1 Arsonist
Candy Kisses for the Omega is a 13K word , non-shifter, M/M, Mpreg romance, featuring two men afraid to confront their past, some knotty fun, and plenty of chocolate.
Original Review February 2023:
Over the years I've read a handful of mpregs in fanfiction and enjoyed them all but I'll admit I've only read a few in published works, which I too have enjoyed each time. It may not be a genre or trope I seek out but I don't shy away from either and have collected a fair number on my kindle and TBR list but haven't had the opportunity to discover yet. As for Lacey Daize? This is a new author to me, some find that scary but I find it adrenaline pumping almost as much as the rush I get waiting to discover the end of great book. Lacey Daize is definitely an author to go on my authors-to-watch list and I look forward to discovering more.
On to Candy Kisses. Being a short novella I won't go into much detail so not to spoil it for others who are also new to either the author or this story. Candy is the third entry in the author's Mountain Springs Omegas non-shifter mpreg series and as far as I can tell it is a series of standalones. Being a series-read-in-order kind of gal, it is unusual for me to start in the middle but as I was looking for Valentine stories, what can I say I took a chance😉.
I enjoyed every minute of this short tale of love, friendship, second chances, and it has just a hint of mystery that made it a winning gem. I want to wrap Mason in bubblewrap and though I wouldn't mind giving Devon a good solid shake(and possibly a whack to the back of the head) I understood his thought process wayback when. Can the pair work through the heartache of the past to find happiness in the future? You'll have to discover that for yourself, as it's a holiday that is all about love you can probably guess where the couple will end up but getting there is where all the entertaining discovery lies.
Candy Kisses for the Omega has definitely made me want to check out the rest of the Mountain Springs Omegas series.
Summary:
Carlisle Cops #5
Brock Ferguson knew he might run into his ex-boyfriend, Vincent Geraldini, when he took his first job as a police officer in Carlisle. Vincent's attitude during a routine traffic stop reminds Brock why their relationship didn't last.
What Brock doesn't expect is finding two scared children in the trunk of a Corvette. He's also surprised to learn the kids' mother is Vincent's sister. But his immediate concern is the safety of the two children, Abey and Penny, and he offers to comfort and care for them when their mother is taken into custody.
Vincent is also shocked to learn what his sister has done. For the sake of the kids, he and Brock bury the hatchet-and soon find they have much more in common than they realized. With Abey and Penny's help, they grow closer, until the four of them start to feel like a family. But Vincent's sister and her boyfriend-an equal-opportunity jerk-could tear down everything they're trying to build.
What Brock doesn't expect is finding two scared children in the trunk of a Corvette. He's also surprised to learn the kids' mother is Vincent's sister. But his immediate concern is the safety of the two children, Abey and Penny, and he offers to comfort and care for them when their mother is taken into custody.
Vincent is also shocked to learn what his sister has done. For the sake of the kids, he and Brock bury the hatchet-and soon find they have much more in common than they realized. With Abey and Penny's help, they grow closer, until the four of them start to feel like a family. But Vincent's sister and her boyfriend-an equal-opportunity jerk-could tear down everything they're trying to build.
Original Review January 2017:
I love Andrew Grey's Carlisle Cops series, they're fun, dramatic, loving, sexy - basically everything you hope for in a contemporary romance. Throw in some kids and it just adds another layer of realism that tugs at your heartstrings. Abey and Penny are absolutely adorable, how can you not fall in love with them as much as Brock does? You definitely should have a box of tissues handy, you don't want to short out your ereader from falling tears. And you will have a few tears, tears of heartache, tears of sadness, tears of laughter, and tears of joy.
Former loves reconnecting can be tricky to convey, especially when the breakup might not have been for the best. You need to understand and believe why the connection is still strong as well as why it took so long to meet up again, the balance has to be just right and Andrew Grey has created a very realistic blend with Brock and Vincent in Fire & Hail. Once Brock unlocked the trunk and found two pairs of innocent eyes staring back at him, I was hooked. There was no way I was putting my Kindle down until I reached the last page. Forget eating and sleeping, I just had to know their journey.
Each book in the series can be read as a standalone but I highly recommend reading them in order. The ins and outs of the secondary characters from previous entries just make the flow of each story run smoother.
Former loves reconnecting can be tricky to convey, especially when the breakup might not have been for the best. You need to understand and believe why the connection is still strong as well as why it took so long to meet up again, the balance has to be just right and Andrew Grey has created a very realistic blend with Brock and Vincent in Fire & Hail. Once Brock unlocked the trunk and found two pairs of innocent eyes staring back at him, I was hooked. There was no way I was putting my Kindle down until I reached the last page. Forget eating and sleeping, I just had to know their journey.
Each book in the series can be read as a standalone but I highly recommend reading them in order. The ins and outs of the secondary characters from previous entries just make the flow of each story run smoother.
Fallow by Jordan L Hawk
Summary:Whyborne & Griffin #8
When Griffin’s past collides with his present, will it cost the lives of everyone he loves?
Between the threat of a world-ending invasion from the Outside and unwelcome revelations about his own nature, Percival Endicott Whyborne is under a great deal of strain. His husband, Griffin Flaherty, wants to help—but how can he, when Whyborne won’t tell him what’s wrong?
When a man from Griffin’s past murders a sorcerer, the situation grows even more dire. Once a simple farmer from Griffin’s hometown of Fallow, the assassin now bears a terrifying magical corruption, one whose nature even Whyborne can’t explain.
To keep Griffin’s estranged mother safe, they must travel to a dying town in Kansas. But as drought withers the crops of Fallow, a sinister cult sinks its roots deep into the arid soil. And if the cult’s foul harvest isn’t stopped in time, Fallow will be only the first city to fall.
Fallow is the eighth book in the Whyborne & Griffin series, where magic, mystery, and m/m romance collide with Victorian era America.
Original Review August 7, 2016:
What can I say about Fallow and not give away any spoilers? Let's see what I can come up with. Whyborne and Griffin just keep getting better and better, if that is even possible, throw in Christine and Iskander and what you have is off the charts. Our little group goes to Griffin's hometown of Fallow, Kansas where life is not as he recalls from his youth. Whyborne's plan to leave Griffin in Kansas, which he sees as a way to keep Griffin safe, breaks your heart and every time his inner monologue debates the plan I found myself screaming at my Kindle "Just talk to him!!" Well, have faith, Jordan L Hawk has never steered us readers wrong and Fallow is no different. If you are already a Whyborne & Griffin fan then you'll be in paranormal romantic suspense heaven and if you haven't checked them out before, don't let there being 8 books in the series scare you away. Trust me, whether there is only 8 or 108 entries in the series, it's well worth the time, they are fantabulous! A must read for magic lovers.
RATING:
RJ Scott
K Evan Coles
K. Evan Coles is a mother and tech pirate by day and a writer by night. She is a dreamer who, with a little hard work and a lot of good coffee, coaxes words out of her head and onto paper.
K. lives in the northeast United States, where she complains bitterly about the winters, but truly loves the region and its diverse, tenacious and deceptively compassionate people. You’ll usually find K. nerding out over books, movies and television with friends and family. She’s especially proud to be raising her son as part of a new generation of unabashed geeks.
K.’s books explore LGBTQ+ romance in contemporary settings.
Her books range from short stories to novellas. They explore gay, lesbian, and polyamorous romance in contemporary settings.
To stay up to date on her latest releases, sign up for the Coles & Vaughn Newsletter.
Lacey Daize
Andrew Grey
Jordan L Hawk
Fire and Hail by Andrew Grey
Fallow by Jordan L Hawk
Between the threat of a world-ending invasion from the Outside and unwelcome revelations about his own nature, Percival Endicott Whyborne is under a great deal of strain. His husband, Griffin Flaherty, wants to help—but how can he, when Whyborne won’t tell him what’s wrong?
When a man from Griffin’s past murders a sorcerer, the situation grows even more dire. Once a simple farmer from Griffin’s hometown of Fallow, the assassin now bears a terrifying magical corruption, one whose nature even Whyborne can’t explain.
To keep Griffin’s estranged mother safe, they must travel to a dying town in Kansas. But as drought withers the crops of Fallow, a sinister cult sinks its roots deep into the arid soil. And if the cult’s foul harvest isn’t stopped in time, Fallow will be only the first city to fall.
Fallow is the eighth book in the Whyborne & Griffin series, where magic, mystery, and m/m romance collide with Victorian era America.
What can I say about Fallow and not give away any spoilers? Let's see what I can come up with. Whyborne and Griffin just keep getting better and better, if that is even possible, throw in Christine and Iskander and what you have is off the charts. Our little group goes to Griffin's hometown of Fallow, Kansas where life is not as he recalls from his youth. Whyborne's plan to leave Griffin in Kansas, which he sees as a way to keep Griffin safe, breaks your heart and every time his inner monologue debates the plan I found myself screaming at my Kindle "Just talk to him!!" Well, have faith, Jordan L Hawk has never steered us readers wrong and Fallow is no different. If you are already a Whyborne & Griffin fan then you'll be in paranormal romantic suspense heaven and if you haven't checked them out before, don't let there being 8 books in the series scare you away. Trust me, whether there is only 8 or 108 entries in the series, it's well worth the time, they are fantabulous! A must read for magic lovers.
The Soldier and the Bodyguard by RJ Scott
The lie in the mirror was that I couldn’t see the bullet fragments in my head. Only machines could see the damage, but I knew what was in there, and I scratched near the scar, which itched like fuck.
“Hey, don’t do that,” Adrian murmured and laced our fingers together so he could tug me away from worrying at the skin. He’d have been horrified if I’d told him I had this idea that, if I scratched hard enough and then tilted my head, the fragments would fall out.
I did that in my dreams, but I’d also discussed it in my chats with my therapist, who told me it was understandable to feel as if I could reach into my brain and pick out the metal.
Understandable. Reasonable.
“Sorry.”
Adrian squeezed my hand. “It’s okay; I’m just jealous that you have a wicked scar for the ladies.”
I glanced at him. “And the men.”
He nodded and I wish I knew what he was thinking, but Adrian had this inscrutable way about him. Or maybe it was that my brain wasn’t working enough to try to read his thoughts the way I’d always been able to do before. My doctor likened this challenging part of my recovery to face-blindness, saying that the part of my brain that understood expressions was damaged.
“Yep, all the men, too,” Adrian corrected himself in his usual upbeat breezy fashion, then pulled me away from the mirror and sat me in the chair. I couldn’t tie my hair back on my own, but he knew that, and already had the thin leather he twined in my damp curls to tame them. “Ready for a shave?” He picked up the shaver, but I shook my head. “You’re gonna grow a beard, JC? For real?” He was teasing me because that was what Adrian did. He pulled me out of the dark times, and he laughed with me, and at me, and he made me remember I was still alive.
I wish I weren’t alive. I would give anything for Taylor or Asti to be here instead of me.
“It hurts,” I admitted, and as soon as I said it, I wanted to take back the words because Adrian dropped to a crouch in front of me.
“What hurts?” he asked with urgency.
“The… thing,” I patted my cheek, but my hand was shaking, and I dropped it immediately.
“Your head hurts?”
“No.” Yes.
Calm by K Evan Coles & Brigham Vaughn
Riley Porter-Wright whistled as he let himself into his West Village apartment on a warm Thursday night in April. He’d left work with a spring in his step. He had a date with Will Martin—his boyfriend—that night, and a three-day weekend ahead of him.
As senior vice president and head of the e-pub division of his family’s publishing house, Riley had been delighted to share the year’s first quarter data for his division at the board meeting that afternoon. The numbers had been high enough to impress even Jonathon Porter-Wright, the CEO of the company and Riley’s father. He was a demanding man under the best of circumstances and the flicker of pleased surprise that had crossed his face during Riley’s presentation had been gratifying.
Although completely estranged from his parents since his coming out and divorce the previous fall, Riley still had to deal with his father at work. He was no longer concerned with living up to his father’s expectations, but Riley felt perversely pleased that the better he performed, the more of an ass his father appeared to be. There was a certain measure of satisfaction in proving to his father that being an openly bisexual man hadn’t done a thing to affect his career. If anything, finally feeling content with his life had improved Riley’s performance.
He’d left the office immediately after the board meeting and hurried home. He hastily dressed in a tux, then checked his watch to be sure he wasn’t late as he dashed out of the door. Why the Metropolitan opera held premieres on a weeknight, he didn’t know, but thankfully, Will didn’t have any classes to teach at NYU that evening.
Riley texted Will on the way to his building. He came out to meet Riley after the town car pulled up. The driver held the door while Will slid inside and gave Riley a brief, warm kiss. “Hey, good to see you.”
“You, too.” They’d both been busy in the past few weeks and hadn’t been able to spend much time together. Riley smiled at him, struck again by Will’s high cheekbones and classic good looks. Riley hadn’t seen him in a tuxedo before, but he wore it well. “How was your day?”
“Mmm, faculty meeting this afternoon and most of my students seem to have spring fever, so I’m glad it’s over,” Will replied with an easy grin, his blue eyes brightening. “Getting better now, though. Yours?”
“Great, actually, and I’m looking forward to tonight.”
They kept the discussion light while the car crossed Manhattan, but Riley’s anxiety rose as they neared the Kennedy Center. He straightened his bow tie for the umpteenth time. Will set a hand on his thigh, the touch warm and heavy.
“Are you sure you want to do this tonight?” Will asked softly. “You seem jittery.”
“Of course.” Riley gave Will a reassuring smile. “I’ll admit I’m…anxious about how it will go, but I refuse to let anyone keep me from living my life. I love opera and I want to share that with you.”
That night was the gala premier of Giulio Cesare and Riley had spent the better part of a week debating if he should invite Will to be his date. Riley had done little socializing with anyone from his past since his abrupt coming-out the previous November and subsequent divorce from his now ex-wife Alex. The possibility of seeing his parents was nerve-racking. Even worse was the thought of seeing his former best friend, Carter, and Carter’s wife, Kate. Carter had been shocked by Riley’s coming out and Riley’s confession that he loved Carter had driven a wedge between them. Riley hadn’t had any contact with Kate and, other than a brief and awkward run-in during the holidays at Serendipity when Carter had been out with the kids, Riley hadn’t seen Carter, either.
Will knew enough about his past that he wouldn’t be caught off-guard if an awkward situation arose, but that didn’t make it any easier. The thought of Will and Carter in the same room caused his anxiety to rise.
In the three months Riley and Will had been seeing each other, Will had more than lived up to Riley’s first impression of him. Not only gorgeous, he was thoughtful and well-read. Patient, too, while Riley shook off the hang-ups from his past and struggled to figure out the new path he was on. In fact, he’d been more than patient.
Although they’d been intimate in every other way, Riley hadn’t reached a point where he was ready to let Will penetrate him or vice versa. Will assured Riley he shouldn’t feel rushed and reminded him some men never wanted anal sex, but, still, it bothered Riley. They’d decided not to see other people, but sometimes Riley held Will at arm’s length when he should have been pulling him closer. Taking him to the opera tonight was one way to include Will in another part of his life. He genuinely cared for Will and thought maybe, in time, he could fall for him.
Riley could hardly say he was over Carter, but thoughts of Carter had grown less and less frequent. As time passed, the acute pain of losing him had faded to a dull ache. Time certainly did heal wounds, but, unfortunately, it did nothing to lessen the feeling that something important was missing from his life.
“I’m glad you invited me,” Will said, bringing him back to the moment.
Riley smiled warmly at him. “I’m glad you were willing to come. I don’t think my ex-wife will be there—she really only bothered with the events here to network—but I can’t promise anything. Let’s just hope we can make it through the night without any drama.”
“If there is, we’ll either ignore it or cut out early.” Will shrugged and slid his hand a little higher. He leaned in to whisper in Riley’s ear. “No matter what happens, the night can end in my bed with your dick in my mouth and you coming so hard you see stars.”
“Promises, promises,” Riley teased, his voice more breathless than he intended. He closed his eyes for a brief moment as Will feathered kisses against his jaw, then glanced at the driver in front of him. He was grateful for the man’s discretion and that he hadn’t once glanced at them in the rearview mirror. Although finally at ease with showing affection with Will in public, Riley didn’t want to make the driver uncomfortable.
Will pulled back when the car slowed to a stop and Riley looked up in surprise, realizing they were already in front of the Lincoln Center. He stepped onto the sidewalk and waited for Will to follow, nodding at a few people mingling outside the entrance whom he recognized. He couldn’t resist a peek at the fountain, half-expecting to see Carter standing beside it. But the familiar silhouette was nowhere in sight, so he turned back to Will.
“Still nervous?” Will asked quietly as they walked through the lobby, with its endless red-carpeted floors and the mid-century Sputnik-style chandeliers that had been a gift from the Austrian government.
“A little,” Riley replied. “Mostly trying not to think too much about your comment in the car. I’m afraid these pants don’t hide much.” He grinned wryly wry and Will laughed.
“Sorry.”
“As long as you follow through, I have no complaints.” Riley’s grin faded when they stepped into the cocktail reception. He glanced around anxiously. To his relief, the only familiar faces in sight were distant acquaintances and he and his date were able to get a drink and mingle. People stared, of course—he’d expected that—and there were a few who gave him and Will a suspiciously wide berth, but frankly, it went better than he’d anticipated.
Riley had just begun to relax when he spotted his parents. His good mood immediately plummeted, replaced by an increasing tightness in his chest. “That’s my parents ahead,” he murmured. “Brace yourself.”
The woman standing next to his mother noticed him. “Oh, look, Geneva, it’s Riley.” Her tone held a nasty note, as if she merely wanted to make a jab at his mother. Riley didn’t know Helena Finch well but enough to remember she was someone who should be aware of the current situation. Perhaps she disliked his mother, or maybe she just wanted to catch a bit of the gossip. He smiled thinly when he approached them, hoping for Will’s sake that the typical Porter-Wright way of handling difficult situations would hold out tonight. Ignoring the situation and acting politely in front of company sounded good to him.
“Will, this is Jonathon and Geneva Porter-Wright.” He nodded to his parents. “Jonathon, Geneva, this is William Martin.” He didn’t see any point in elaborating on Will’s part in his life. “Will’s a law professor at NYU.”
His mother nodded frostily and his father put out his hand. The gesture seemed hesitant and begrudging.
“Nice to meet you both.” Will’s tone came across as polite, but there was little of his usual warmth.
“Likewise.” His father didn’t try to hide his disdain.
A rotund gentleman who looked as if he might pop the buttons on his jacket at any moment held out his hand to Will. “Marcus Finch. I went to NYU law myself back in the day.”
Riley glanced at his mother, but she wouldn’t meet his eye. Outwardly, she appeared cool and composed, but Riley would bet agitation churned under the surface.
Helena gave Riley a knowing smile. “And Will is here with you? How interesting.” Her voice dripped with innuendo.
“We’ve been seeing each other for a while.” Riley kept his tone polite but cool. “On top of being a law professor, Will is a writer. We have a great deal in common.”
Will made small talk with Marcus while Riley remained silent.
“It appears they’re seating for dinner,” Geneva said after a few minutes, her voice brittle. “Come, Jonathon, we should find our seats. Nice seeing you, Marcus and Helena. Riley. Mr. Martin.” She disappeared before they could reply and Riley made polite excuses to the Finches. He and Will found their table, grateful to end the encounter. His parents would make sure their paths didn’t cross again that evening.
Riley didn’t relax until dinner had concluded and Will followed him to his box for the beginning of act one. He took a seat next to Will, relieved that dinner had been calm and uneventful.
“I’m glad you came with me tonight,” Riley told him with a smile. Will briefly touched Riley’s knee.
“I am, too.”
The final knot of worry in Riley’s chest dissipated and he got comfortable, eager to see the production. Unfortunately, the good mood only lasted until intermission.
Riley and Will were enjoying the champagne and dessert when a blonde in an ice-blue dress crossed his field of vision. Riley tensed at the sight of Kate Hamilton. He glanced around, trying to be casual as he searched for Carter, but found him nowhere in sight. Riley frowned. The crowd was thick, but Carter stood tall enough to be seen in any group. Perhaps he was in the restroom or had stepped outside to take a call. Kate headed toward him, although she hadn’t made eye contact yet.
Riley set down his champagne glass, his hands suddenly nerveless and clumsy when Kate spotted him. Her eyes went wide and she came to an abrupt stop. “Riley.”
“How are you, Kate?”
“I’m fine.” Her smile seemed automatic, forced. Riley paused, really looking at Kate. She appeared to have lost weight and her normally bright eyes and smile were dimmer than usual. Although beautifully made up as always, something was off.
“Will, I’d like to introduce you to Kate Hamilton, a good friend of mine. Kate, this is Will Martin, law professor, writer and my date this evening.”
The corners of Kate’s mouth briefly tightened before she smiled at Will and held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Will.”
“Likewise.” Will, in turn, appeared relaxed and comfortable. Clearly, whatever was obvious to Riley wasn’t to someone who had never met Kate before.
“Are you as big of a fan of opera as Riley is?” Kate asked.
Will grinned. “I’m not sure anyone’s as big of a fan as Riley, but I do enjoy it.” Will brushed his fingertips across Riley’s back. “I’m glad he wanted to share it with me.”
“Oh, I’ve been known to give Riley a run for his money,” Kate said lightly.
A little more warmth appeared in her eyes, but she still seemed off and Riley turned to Will, laying a hand on his arm.
“Would you get me another glass of champagne? I’d like a moment to talk to Kate, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course,” Will reassured him.
“Thank you. I’ll try not to be long.” Riley squeezed Will’s arm.
“Take your time. I’ll be over by the bar when you’re done.” He nodded at Kate. “Very nice to meet you, Kate.”
“You, too.”
Will left with a smile and Riley felt grateful for his understanding. He turned back to Kate, growing serious. “Are you sure everything’s okay? You don’t seem…” He wasn’t sure how to finish. Kate seemed unhappy, stressed. “Is it that Carter’s around and you’re worried about us running into each other?”
She shook her head. “No. Carter’s…Carter’s not here with me.”
Kate’s fingers trembled as she smoothed them over her pale blue dress and, although it took him a moment, Riley finally registered what was wrong with the picture. A faint stripe of lighter skin adorned the third finger of her left hand instead of the glittering diamond ring Riley had carried in the breast pocket of his tux the morning of Carter’s wedding. He wanted to ask her about it but realized there were too many people around. “Can we talk? Privately?”
She nodded, the motion tense and jerky. Riley steered them toward a secluded alcove, reminded of the night he and Carter had discussed finding a woman to join them. It seemed like it had been a lifetime ago, rather than just over a year. “What’s going on, Kate? I know you well enough to know you’re not okay.”
She let out a shaky breath. “Riley, a lot has happened since we last saw each other.”
He bit back a disbelieving laugh. “I’m well-aware.”
Her expression softened. “I know. You’ve been dealing with…well, more than any man should. I’m sorry to hear about your parents. They’re completely out of line.”
“It wasn’t unexpected.”
“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”
“And what about you? Is something going on with you and Carter? I noticed you aren’t wearing your ring.”
She glanced down at her left hand with a wistful glance. “Carter and I are separated. We’re in the process of filing for divorce.”
Riley blinked at her. “You what? Christ, what happened, Kate?”
The sad smile was trained on him, her tone gentle, but the words barbed. “You came out.”
Blanching, Riley tried to make sense of what she’d said. “I don’t understand.”
Her gaze remained unflinching, but her voice became so quiet he could barely hear it. “Carter told me the truth, Riley. The girls in college, the escort…your feelings for him.”
The news hit him like a ton of bricks. “I’m so fucking sorry, Kate.” His voice grew raw. “We never meant to—”
“I know. But it hurts deeply to know my husband and a man I considered a good friend betrayed me that way.” Kate’s voice shook. Riley saw the strain on her face as she struggled to keep it together. She looked away and he gave her a moment to compose herself before she continued. “How long, Riley?”
“What do you mean?”
“How long have you loved him?”
“Since college,” he admitted. “Probably since the moment I met him.”
She shook her head and dropped her voice to a whisper. “The whole time. Long before Carter and I met.”
Riley swallowed, his throat suddenly tight.
“How could you let him marry me?” she continued. “How could you stand beside him at the altar and hand him the ring when you loved him?”
“Because I truly believed it was the right thing to do. I couldn’t tell him how I felt—I could hardly even admit it to myself. He loved you—he really did—and I thought if he married you, the feelings I had for him wouldn’t matter. Asking Carter to divorce you to be with me last November was out of line. I shouldn’t have done it, but I couldn’t cope with hiding my feelings for him anymore. I thought he needed to know the truth. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love Carter, but I understand he doesn’t feel the same way about me. I know that now.” His voice sounded strained, even to him. “I wish it hadn’t taken the end of both our marriages and our friendship to prove that, though.”
“Me, too.” She stared him straight in the eye. “You know, he’s been a wreck since then, Riley. And when he ran into you before New Year’s, he became so depressed. He barely slept or ate—he just…wasn’t himself. He couldn’t live with the lies anymore and it all fell apart after that.”
“It kills me to know I hurt both of you.” He looked down, unable to meet her gaze. “I’ve come to terms with the fact I’ve lost Carter. I’m moving on now. Figuring out my life.”
“And Will?”
“We’re seeing each other. I care about him, but we’re—we’re taking things slow. He doesn’t know the exact details, but he knows there’s someone else I still have feelings for.”
“As long as you’re being honest with him.”
“I am.” Riley shoved his hands in his pockets. “I won’t live a lie like that again. I never should have done it in the first place.”
“I think the worst part is, I didn’t know I was,” Kate said softly, tears shimmering in her eyes. “I think somewhere deep down, I knew there was something between you and Carter, but I truly didn’t want to believe it. I wanted to believe the happy marriage and family were real.”
“Carter loves you and the kids. I know he does,” he whispered, his voice raw. “There are so many things I wish I’d done differently. Hurting you and the kids…I hope you know how much I regret it. Although I hoped Carter would want to be with me, I don’t think I ever believed he’d leave you. I know he didn’t want to tear apart your marriage or your family.”
“We can’t always predict the outcome of these things.” She laid a hand on his forearm, her smile wistful. “Besides, you coming out may have precipitated this, but it became inevitable. Once Carter stopped being honest with me, this was bound to happen. I am so, so angry at both of you, but I am trying to understand it. I can’t imagine what keeping your feelings a secret must have been like. Maybe once the hurt passes, I’ll be able to forgive you.”
He nodded, his heart aching. “It’s more than I deserve.”
Before she could reply, the lights dimmed briefly, indicating intermission had ended. She offered him a small, sympathetic smile. “I need to head back to my seat, but, Riley, I’m glad we talked.”
“So am I. Take care of yourself, Kate.”
“You, too.”
He stood staring after Kate until someone gently touched his upper back. He turned to see Will staring at him with a worried frown.
“Are you all right?” Will asked.
Riley shook his head to clear it. “Yeah. We should get back to our seats, though.”
Will nodded and fell into step beside him, his gaze worried. Riley couldn’t blame him. The conversation with Kate had completely thrown him and he knew he was acting oddly. He needed some time to process it.
Throughout the second half of the performance, Riley felt grateful for Will’s silent presence. He hadn’t asked Riley to explain, had merely sat beside him and laid a comforting hand on his knee. Riley didn’t know what to think of the conversation with Kate. Despite having wanted Carter to end his marriage, the news that Kate and Carter were no longer together felt like an unexpected blow. It would be difficult to come to terms with his partial responsibility for it. He’d never wanted to hurt Carter or Kate and his heart ached for Sadie and Dylan.
He instinctively wanted to reach out to Carter and see if he needed to talk, but Riley wondered if Carter would welcome it or not. Would he blame Riley for the end of his marriage? Was there any hope of repairing their friendship?
As senior vice president and head of the e-pub division of his family’s publishing house, Riley had been delighted to share the year’s first quarter data for his division at the board meeting that afternoon. The numbers had been high enough to impress even Jonathon Porter-Wright, the CEO of the company and Riley’s father. He was a demanding man under the best of circumstances and the flicker of pleased surprise that had crossed his face during Riley’s presentation had been gratifying.
Although completely estranged from his parents since his coming out and divorce the previous fall, Riley still had to deal with his father at work. He was no longer concerned with living up to his father’s expectations, but Riley felt perversely pleased that the better he performed, the more of an ass his father appeared to be. There was a certain measure of satisfaction in proving to his father that being an openly bisexual man hadn’t done a thing to affect his career. If anything, finally feeling content with his life had improved Riley’s performance.
He’d left the office immediately after the board meeting and hurried home. He hastily dressed in a tux, then checked his watch to be sure he wasn’t late as he dashed out of the door. Why the Metropolitan opera held premieres on a weeknight, he didn’t know, but thankfully, Will didn’t have any classes to teach at NYU that evening.
Riley texted Will on the way to his building. He came out to meet Riley after the town car pulled up. The driver held the door while Will slid inside and gave Riley a brief, warm kiss. “Hey, good to see you.”
“You, too.” They’d both been busy in the past few weeks and hadn’t been able to spend much time together. Riley smiled at him, struck again by Will’s high cheekbones and classic good looks. Riley hadn’t seen him in a tuxedo before, but he wore it well. “How was your day?”
“Mmm, faculty meeting this afternoon and most of my students seem to have spring fever, so I’m glad it’s over,” Will replied with an easy grin, his blue eyes brightening. “Getting better now, though. Yours?”
“Great, actually, and I’m looking forward to tonight.”
They kept the discussion light while the car crossed Manhattan, but Riley’s anxiety rose as they neared the Kennedy Center. He straightened his bow tie for the umpteenth time. Will set a hand on his thigh, the touch warm and heavy.
“Are you sure you want to do this tonight?” Will asked softly. “You seem jittery.”
“Of course.” Riley gave Will a reassuring smile. “I’ll admit I’m…anxious about how it will go, but I refuse to let anyone keep me from living my life. I love opera and I want to share that with you.”
That night was the gala premier of Giulio Cesare and Riley had spent the better part of a week debating if he should invite Will to be his date. Riley had done little socializing with anyone from his past since his abrupt coming-out the previous November and subsequent divorce from his now ex-wife Alex. The possibility of seeing his parents was nerve-racking. Even worse was the thought of seeing his former best friend, Carter, and Carter’s wife, Kate. Carter had been shocked by Riley’s coming out and Riley’s confession that he loved Carter had driven a wedge between them. Riley hadn’t had any contact with Kate and, other than a brief and awkward run-in during the holidays at Serendipity when Carter had been out with the kids, Riley hadn’t seen Carter, either.
Will knew enough about his past that he wouldn’t be caught off-guard if an awkward situation arose, but that didn’t make it any easier. The thought of Will and Carter in the same room caused his anxiety to rise.
In the three months Riley and Will had been seeing each other, Will had more than lived up to Riley’s first impression of him. Not only gorgeous, he was thoughtful and well-read. Patient, too, while Riley shook off the hang-ups from his past and struggled to figure out the new path he was on. In fact, he’d been more than patient.
Although they’d been intimate in every other way, Riley hadn’t reached a point where he was ready to let Will penetrate him or vice versa. Will assured Riley he shouldn’t feel rushed and reminded him some men never wanted anal sex, but, still, it bothered Riley. They’d decided not to see other people, but sometimes Riley held Will at arm’s length when he should have been pulling him closer. Taking him to the opera tonight was one way to include Will in another part of his life. He genuinely cared for Will and thought maybe, in time, he could fall for him.
Riley could hardly say he was over Carter, but thoughts of Carter had grown less and less frequent. As time passed, the acute pain of losing him had faded to a dull ache. Time certainly did heal wounds, but, unfortunately, it did nothing to lessen the feeling that something important was missing from his life.
“I’m glad you invited me,” Will said, bringing him back to the moment.
Riley smiled warmly at him. “I’m glad you were willing to come. I don’t think my ex-wife will be there—she really only bothered with the events here to network—but I can’t promise anything. Let’s just hope we can make it through the night without any drama.”
“If there is, we’ll either ignore it or cut out early.” Will shrugged and slid his hand a little higher. He leaned in to whisper in Riley’s ear. “No matter what happens, the night can end in my bed with your dick in my mouth and you coming so hard you see stars.”
“Promises, promises,” Riley teased, his voice more breathless than he intended. He closed his eyes for a brief moment as Will feathered kisses against his jaw, then glanced at the driver in front of him. He was grateful for the man’s discretion and that he hadn’t once glanced at them in the rearview mirror. Although finally at ease with showing affection with Will in public, Riley didn’t want to make the driver uncomfortable.
Will pulled back when the car slowed to a stop and Riley looked up in surprise, realizing they were already in front of the Lincoln Center. He stepped onto the sidewalk and waited for Will to follow, nodding at a few people mingling outside the entrance whom he recognized. He couldn’t resist a peek at the fountain, half-expecting to see Carter standing beside it. But the familiar silhouette was nowhere in sight, so he turned back to Will.
“Still nervous?” Will asked quietly as they walked through the lobby, with its endless red-carpeted floors and the mid-century Sputnik-style chandeliers that had been a gift from the Austrian government.
“A little,” Riley replied. “Mostly trying not to think too much about your comment in the car. I’m afraid these pants don’t hide much.” He grinned wryly wry and Will laughed.
“Sorry.”
“As long as you follow through, I have no complaints.” Riley’s grin faded when they stepped into the cocktail reception. He glanced around anxiously. To his relief, the only familiar faces in sight were distant acquaintances and he and his date were able to get a drink and mingle. People stared, of course—he’d expected that—and there were a few who gave him and Will a suspiciously wide berth, but frankly, it went better than he’d anticipated.
Riley had just begun to relax when he spotted his parents. His good mood immediately plummeted, replaced by an increasing tightness in his chest. “That’s my parents ahead,” he murmured. “Brace yourself.”
The woman standing next to his mother noticed him. “Oh, look, Geneva, it’s Riley.” Her tone held a nasty note, as if she merely wanted to make a jab at his mother. Riley didn’t know Helena Finch well but enough to remember she was someone who should be aware of the current situation. Perhaps she disliked his mother, or maybe she just wanted to catch a bit of the gossip. He smiled thinly when he approached them, hoping for Will’s sake that the typical Porter-Wright way of handling difficult situations would hold out tonight. Ignoring the situation and acting politely in front of company sounded good to him.
“Will, this is Jonathon and Geneva Porter-Wright.” He nodded to his parents. “Jonathon, Geneva, this is William Martin.” He didn’t see any point in elaborating on Will’s part in his life. “Will’s a law professor at NYU.”
His mother nodded frostily and his father put out his hand. The gesture seemed hesitant and begrudging.
“Nice to meet you both.” Will’s tone came across as polite, but there was little of his usual warmth.
“Likewise.” His father didn’t try to hide his disdain.
A rotund gentleman who looked as if he might pop the buttons on his jacket at any moment held out his hand to Will. “Marcus Finch. I went to NYU law myself back in the day.”
Riley glanced at his mother, but she wouldn’t meet his eye. Outwardly, she appeared cool and composed, but Riley would bet agitation churned under the surface.
Helena gave Riley a knowing smile. “And Will is here with you? How interesting.” Her voice dripped with innuendo.
“We’ve been seeing each other for a while.” Riley kept his tone polite but cool. “On top of being a law professor, Will is a writer. We have a great deal in common.”
Will made small talk with Marcus while Riley remained silent.
“It appears they’re seating for dinner,” Geneva said after a few minutes, her voice brittle. “Come, Jonathon, we should find our seats. Nice seeing you, Marcus and Helena. Riley. Mr. Martin.” She disappeared before they could reply and Riley made polite excuses to the Finches. He and Will found their table, grateful to end the encounter. His parents would make sure their paths didn’t cross again that evening.
Riley didn’t relax until dinner had concluded and Will followed him to his box for the beginning of act one. He took a seat next to Will, relieved that dinner had been calm and uneventful.
“I’m glad you came with me tonight,” Riley told him with a smile. Will briefly touched Riley’s knee.
“I am, too.”
The final knot of worry in Riley’s chest dissipated and he got comfortable, eager to see the production. Unfortunately, the good mood only lasted until intermission.
Riley and Will were enjoying the champagne and dessert when a blonde in an ice-blue dress crossed his field of vision. Riley tensed at the sight of Kate Hamilton. He glanced around, trying to be casual as he searched for Carter, but found him nowhere in sight. Riley frowned. The crowd was thick, but Carter stood tall enough to be seen in any group. Perhaps he was in the restroom or had stepped outside to take a call. Kate headed toward him, although she hadn’t made eye contact yet.
Riley set down his champagne glass, his hands suddenly nerveless and clumsy when Kate spotted him. Her eyes went wide and she came to an abrupt stop. “Riley.”
“How are you, Kate?”
“I’m fine.” Her smile seemed automatic, forced. Riley paused, really looking at Kate. She appeared to have lost weight and her normally bright eyes and smile were dimmer than usual. Although beautifully made up as always, something was off.
“Will, I’d like to introduce you to Kate Hamilton, a good friend of mine. Kate, this is Will Martin, law professor, writer and my date this evening.”
The corners of Kate’s mouth briefly tightened before she smiled at Will and held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Will.”
“Likewise.” Will, in turn, appeared relaxed and comfortable. Clearly, whatever was obvious to Riley wasn’t to someone who had never met Kate before.
“Are you as big of a fan of opera as Riley is?” Kate asked.
Will grinned. “I’m not sure anyone’s as big of a fan as Riley, but I do enjoy it.” Will brushed his fingertips across Riley’s back. “I’m glad he wanted to share it with me.”
“Oh, I’ve been known to give Riley a run for his money,” Kate said lightly.
A little more warmth appeared in her eyes, but she still seemed off and Riley turned to Will, laying a hand on his arm.
“Would you get me another glass of champagne? I’d like a moment to talk to Kate, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course,” Will reassured him.
“Thank you. I’ll try not to be long.” Riley squeezed Will’s arm.
“Take your time. I’ll be over by the bar when you’re done.” He nodded at Kate. “Very nice to meet you, Kate.”
“You, too.”
Will left with a smile and Riley felt grateful for his understanding. He turned back to Kate, growing serious. “Are you sure everything’s okay? You don’t seem…” He wasn’t sure how to finish. Kate seemed unhappy, stressed. “Is it that Carter’s around and you’re worried about us running into each other?”
She shook her head. “No. Carter’s…Carter’s not here with me.”
Kate’s fingers trembled as she smoothed them over her pale blue dress and, although it took him a moment, Riley finally registered what was wrong with the picture. A faint stripe of lighter skin adorned the third finger of her left hand instead of the glittering diamond ring Riley had carried in the breast pocket of his tux the morning of Carter’s wedding. He wanted to ask her about it but realized there were too many people around. “Can we talk? Privately?”
She nodded, the motion tense and jerky. Riley steered them toward a secluded alcove, reminded of the night he and Carter had discussed finding a woman to join them. It seemed like it had been a lifetime ago, rather than just over a year. “What’s going on, Kate? I know you well enough to know you’re not okay.”
She let out a shaky breath. “Riley, a lot has happened since we last saw each other.”
He bit back a disbelieving laugh. “I’m well-aware.”
Her expression softened. “I know. You’ve been dealing with…well, more than any man should. I’m sorry to hear about your parents. They’re completely out of line.”
“It wasn’t unexpected.”
“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”
“And what about you? Is something going on with you and Carter? I noticed you aren’t wearing your ring.”
She glanced down at her left hand with a wistful glance. “Carter and I are separated. We’re in the process of filing for divorce.”
Riley blinked at her. “You what? Christ, what happened, Kate?”
The sad smile was trained on him, her tone gentle, but the words barbed. “You came out.”
Blanching, Riley tried to make sense of what she’d said. “I don’t understand.”
Her gaze remained unflinching, but her voice became so quiet he could barely hear it. “Carter told me the truth, Riley. The girls in college, the escort…your feelings for him.”
The news hit him like a ton of bricks. “I’m so fucking sorry, Kate.” His voice grew raw. “We never meant to—”
“I know. But it hurts deeply to know my husband and a man I considered a good friend betrayed me that way.” Kate’s voice shook. Riley saw the strain on her face as she struggled to keep it together. She looked away and he gave her a moment to compose herself before she continued. “How long, Riley?”
“What do you mean?”
“How long have you loved him?”
“Since college,” he admitted. “Probably since the moment I met him.”
She shook her head and dropped her voice to a whisper. “The whole time. Long before Carter and I met.”
Riley swallowed, his throat suddenly tight.
“How could you let him marry me?” she continued. “How could you stand beside him at the altar and hand him the ring when you loved him?”
“Because I truly believed it was the right thing to do. I couldn’t tell him how I felt—I could hardly even admit it to myself. He loved you—he really did—and I thought if he married you, the feelings I had for him wouldn’t matter. Asking Carter to divorce you to be with me last November was out of line. I shouldn’t have done it, but I couldn’t cope with hiding my feelings for him anymore. I thought he needed to know the truth. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love Carter, but I understand he doesn’t feel the same way about me. I know that now.” His voice sounded strained, even to him. “I wish it hadn’t taken the end of both our marriages and our friendship to prove that, though.”
“Me, too.” She stared him straight in the eye. “You know, he’s been a wreck since then, Riley. And when he ran into you before New Year’s, he became so depressed. He barely slept or ate—he just…wasn’t himself. He couldn’t live with the lies anymore and it all fell apart after that.”
“It kills me to know I hurt both of you.” He looked down, unable to meet her gaze. “I’ve come to terms with the fact I’ve lost Carter. I’m moving on now. Figuring out my life.”
“And Will?”
“We’re seeing each other. I care about him, but we’re—we’re taking things slow. He doesn’t know the exact details, but he knows there’s someone else I still have feelings for.”
“As long as you’re being honest with him.”
“I am.” Riley shoved his hands in his pockets. “I won’t live a lie like that again. I never should have done it in the first place.”
“I think the worst part is, I didn’t know I was,” Kate said softly, tears shimmering in her eyes. “I think somewhere deep down, I knew there was something between you and Carter, but I truly didn’t want to believe it. I wanted to believe the happy marriage and family were real.”
“Carter loves you and the kids. I know he does,” he whispered, his voice raw. “There are so many things I wish I’d done differently. Hurting you and the kids…I hope you know how much I regret it. Although I hoped Carter would want to be with me, I don’t think I ever believed he’d leave you. I know he didn’t want to tear apart your marriage or your family.”
“We can’t always predict the outcome of these things.” She laid a hand on his forearm, her smile wistful. “Besides, you coming out may have precipitated this, but it became inevitable. Once Carter stopped being honest with me, this was bound to happen. I am so, so angry at both of you, but I am trying to understand it. I can’t imagine what keeping your feelings a secret must have been like. Maybe once the hurt passes, I’ll be able to forgive you.”
He nodded, his heart aching. “It’s more than I deserve.”
Before she could reply, the lights dimmed briefly, indicating intermission had ended. She offered him a small, sympathetic smile. “I need to head back to my seat, but, Riley, I’m glad we talked.”
“So am I. Take care of yourself, Kate.”
“You, too.”
He stood staring after Kate until someone gently touched his upper back. He turned to see Will staring at him with a worried frown.
“Are you all right?” Will asked.
Riley shook his head to clear it. “Yeah. We should get back to our seats, though.”
Will nodded and fell into step beside him, his gaze worried. Riley couldn’t blame him. The conversation with Kate had completely thrown him and he knew he was acting oddly. He needed some time to process it.
Throughout the second half of the performance, Riley felt grateful for Will’s silent presence. He hadn’t asked Riley to explain, had merely sat beside him and laid a comforting hand on his knee. Riley didn’t know what to think of the conversation with Kate. Despite having wanted Carter to end his marriage, the news that Kate and Carter were no longer together felt like an unexpected blow. It would be difficult to come to terms with his partial responsibility for it. He’d never wanted to hurt Carter or Kate and his heart ached for Sadie and Dylan.
He instinctively wanted to reach out to Carter and see if he needed to talk, but Riley wondered if Carter would welcome it or not. Would he blame Riley for the end of his marriage? Was there any hope of repairing their friendship?
Candy Kisses for the Omega by Lacey Daize
Chapter 1 - Mason
I sat at the kitchen counter and picked up the newest edition of Mountain Springs’ bi-weekly newspaper. Given the overall state of the print media industry, I was glad to support the town paper and they did good work. However, the headline on the front page made me scowl: Arsonist Continues to Elude Fire Investigators.
The news made me worry for two reasons. The first was that it meant there was still somebody out there setting fires with no clear motive. The other was my friend Liam. The first incident had been a stand of bears set aflame in front of his parents’ gift store, and though the arsonist hadn’t targeted any single place twice, it couldn’t be ruled out either. It was stressful enough already, but Liam was pregnant on top of that.
I skimmed the article, but wasn’t too hopeful about finding anything of use in it. The title seemed to sum it up pretty well.
I picked out a few more articles to read while I drank my coffee, then it was time to get ready for work. As the town’s chocolatier, one of my busiest seasons was upon me and I had orders to make.
Eleven months out of the year I loved my work. I got to be creative, making new shapes and flavors of treats for the various holidays. Rose and lavender infused chocolates for Mother’s Day, beer and whiskey for the dads. My white chocolate green caramel eyeballs were Halloween favorites, and I’d had lines before Christmas for my chocolate-coated gingerbread men.
But the next holiday was the one I wished I could shut down the store for. Each chocolate-dipped strawberry and heart-shaped confection was like a dagger in my soul. Every one a reminder of the betrayal I felt.
Maybe I’d hire and train a new employee over the summer so they’d be ready to take over the following February and allow me to go on vacation—preferably somewhere warm and where I could avoid all the couples kissing and being lovey-dovey.
I headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth, and studied my beard in the mirror. I’d need to trim it soon or the health inspector would insist on a net for it. I liked the length, especially in winter, but the nets were uncomfortable and it was better to keep my facial hair neat than have to constantly be dealing with the net while trying to work.
I ran a comb through my beard to be safe, and made a mental note to book an appointment with my barber. Then I headed downstairs from my apartment to the kitchen of Mount Chocolate.
One of the nice things about running a candy store rather than a bakery was that I could keep slightly more normal hours than a baker would, at least most of the time. But today the sun had barely cleared the horizon when I walked in and flicked on the lights, which reflected off the stainless-steel work tables.
Even when I hated the holiday, I never hated the sight of my passion ready for me each morning. In a few hours those same tables would be filled with confections in various stages of making, the scent of chocolate filling the air.
I wandered over to my calendar and compared the schedule with pre-order quantities, trying to decide if I needed to shuffle anything. Chocolate-covered strawberries were flying off the shelf, but I couldn’t start on the bulk of the orders for them until the thirteenth so that the fruit remained fresh on the big day. Which meant it was other chocolate and gift basket prep with things that could last the week until February fourteenth.
Satisfied that my schedule was still fine, I started gathering my ingredients. First up was a big batch of red chile chocolates. They’d been popular the year before, and I decided to spruce things up with special boxes that read ‘Hot Stuff for my Hot Stuff.’ The special box meant that a number of people had ordered them, and as it would be shelf-stable longer it was a good choice to get a head start on.
Soon I was fully immersed in the work, tempering the chocolate to glossy perfection and mixing in the spicy chile. I then spread it to cool before breaking it into bark-style pieces.
I’d been so immersed in my work that I jolted when I heard the little bell over the front door chime.
“Mason?”
I breathed out a sigh, calming my nerves. It was just Andrew. He’d breezed into town the month prior, but had only been working for me a week, since a receptionist job fell through almost immediately after they’d told him he’d been hired. But he’d shown himself more than capable of the work and a trustworthy employee.
He’d also fit right into my circle of omega friends, and after a love-at-first-sight romance was mated to a local alpha and had announced his pregnancy a few days before.
“Back here,” I called.
Andrew came back and smiled. “Where do you need me today?”
“Hop on the register until Daniel comes in, then you can come back and start prepping the hot stuff boxes.”
“You got it,” Andrew said as he grabbed an apron and a little candyman hat. A minute later I heard the sound of bills being counted as he prepped the register.
I had to admit, the other omega had come in at just the right time. I’d steadily been getting busier and with the dreaded holiday only a week away it was time for all hands on deck to push through.
I just had to hope he’d be willing to stay after February. He’d mentioned that he preferred office jobs, and was considering going back to school, but having him even on a part-time basis would be great.
I got the second batch of chile chocolate cooling and started on another specialty, Love Bites, which were small chocolates with a hot cinnamon kick.
Soon the sounds of customers drifted in from the front: people placing orders for gift boxes, excited children squealing with delight, and the sweetest of them all was the compliments as people tasted my creations.
Daniel came in around noon, which gave me a chance to head to Glen’s Diner and grab lunch for the three of us. Then Andrew and I spent the afternoon filling boxes and bags of candy while Daniel sold it out the front almost faster than I could make it.
Finally it was closing time, and after Daniel cleaned up the front he joined Andrew and I in the back on the assembly line. Soon we had stacks of boxes and gift baskets ready for both orders and regular store stock.
We were wiping down the tables when we heard the blare of sirens, followed by the low blast of a fire engine’s horn. The three of us ran to the front and out the door, eyes tracing the direction of the emergency lights until we saw black smoke rising from the direction of the community center.
“Think it’s the arsonist again?” Andrew asked quietly.
I nodded. “It’s a reasonable bet.”
Fire and Hail by Andrew Grey
TRAFFIC DUTY. Of course they assigned him traffic enforcement. Brock Ferguson was the newbie in the department in every way.
Hell, he wasn’t going to complain—he knew he was the luckiest guy on earth to have this job at all. When he’d applied, he was told there weren’t any openings and they’d put his résumé in the file in case something came up. He hadn’t had much hope, but then he’d been called for an interview just ten days later because one of the officers decided to move back South. He’d worked hard to make a good impression and seemed to have pulled it off. Of course, that meant he now got to sit in a patrol car watching vehicles as they passed by, their speeds registering on the radar system installed in the dashboard.
Vehicles of every description passed in front of him, everything from tiny Smart cars to huge semitrailers. He checked the speed of each one and yawned. Hours of sitting with the engine running, and even then the air-conditioning barely kept up with the heat from the sun pouring through the windows. It was like being in a tin can roasting in an oven, with no place to go. Brock hadn’t moved in forever. It seemed the word was out about where he’d been stationed. Everyone was slowing down, driving sedately past him, and probably speeding up as soon as they were out of sight. Still, he knew the purpose of him being there was to act more as a deterrent and get people to slow down in the first place.
A red sports car with the convertible top down passed, going fast enough that the radar peeped. Brock put the car in gear, flipped on his lights, and pulled out, joining the flow of traffic and keeping the offender in sight. As he drove, he called in to report the stop and gave the license plate to the dispatcher to make sure the car hadn’t been reported stolen. The other cars got out of the way, and when Brock stayed behind the offender, the driver pulled to the side. Now he needed to be careful. Traffic stops, while routine, could also be dangerous. He got out of his car and walked up to the other vehicle, where a head of thick black hair poked up above the seat.
“Could I see your license and registration, please?” Brock asked as he looked over the inside of the car, checking for any sort of weapon. “Do you know how fast you were going?”
The driver turned to him, and Brock stared into a very familiar set of eyes.
“Vinny,” Brock said, relaxing a little. “I see you still drive like a bat out of hell.” He waited for him to hand over his license. “I guess some things never change.”
“I prefer Vincent now,” he said.
Brock ignored the comment and went back to his car to run the information. Not that he needed the driver’s license. He knew everything there was to know about Vincent Geraldini. He’d learned enough while the two of them dated years earlier. Granted, it hadn’t been for very long, but just as Brock thought they might be getting serious, Vinny—Vincent—had backed away.
Vinny’s record came back clean, and Brock sat in his car a little longer than was necessary, thinking about what he was going to do. At the speed Vinny had been going, writing a citation was discretionary, so Brock was still debating. Maybe he could write him one for being a dickweed. Brock opened the door, got out of his car again, and returned to Vinny.
“Are you going to give me a ticket?” Vinny asked. He was always the kind of guy who tackled things head-on. It had been one of the things Brock had first liked about him. There was no backing down in Vinny. He always asked what he wanted to know and stared people down until he got an answer.
“I’m still deciding.” Brock opened his pad and began writing. Usually he’d do that in the car, but he wanted Vinny to squirm a little and wonder exactly what he was doing. Not getting the answers he wanted was one of the things Brock knew would get under Vinny’s skin, and he wanted that at the moment. Sometimes it was easy to do, such as moments like this when Vinny was not the one in control. “Are you visiting?” Brock asked, having noticed that the address on Vinny’s license read Shippensburg.
“No. I moved back to Carlisle recently and I still have to get the address on my license changed.” Vinny gave him his new address, and Brock added that to the information on the sheet.
Brock had to force himself to keep writing when Vinny turned his way once again, tilting his head upward just enough that Brock got a good look into his intense brown eyes with their flecks of gold. For a split second, he flashed on a memory of just how those eyes shone in the afternoon sun, his olive-colored skin contrasted against the blanket, covered with a light sheen of sweat as Brock leaned over him…. Brock took a deep breath, released it, and hoped like hell that Vinny hadn’t seen anything in his expression. What had happened between them had no bearing on today and how he was going to react.
“I’m going to give you a warning. But….” Brock leaned over the side of the car, his gaze zeroing in on Vinny, and he suppressed a smile when he saw him shudder a little. “This will stay in your file here, and if you get stopped again, this will turn into a citation, along with the one the officer is sure to give you then. So slow down and drive safely.”
“Of course, Brock.” The momentary heat in Vinny’s eyes dissipated as he took the slip of paper. “I’ll be careful.”
Brock glared for a split second. He wasn’t buying that act. Vinny had never been one of those guys who played it safe. Not at least as far as Brock knew.
He patted the door of the car twice and stepped back. “Have a good day.” He turned to walk back to his patrol car.
“Is that all?” Vinny asked.
Brock continued walking and got inside, watching as Vinny pulled out into traffic and guided his car up to the next intersection. Brock turned off his lights, merged as well, and made his way to his original location. He turned on his radar equipment and settled into his routine. He called in to let dispatch know he was back at his location and then tried to get comfortable.
That stop seemed to be his excitement for the morning. Well, that and the fact that now that he’d seen Vinny again, he couldn’t seem to get his mind back where it belonged. He watched cars go by and paid attention to the radar, but his mind kept wandering to the summer between his junior and senior year of college. Maybe he and Vinny were too young at that point to have really made a go of it, but Brock had fallen in love with the olive-skinned, vibrant, take-no-prisoners Vinny. But obviously the feelings hadn’t been returned. Either that or what they’d had was just some summer fling to Vinny that was over as soon as the weather broke and they went back to school. The heat of those summer months, both outside and between them, was something Brock wasn’t ever likely to forget. He grew warm and shifted in his seat just remembering it.
Not that he particularly wanted to spend part of his day thinking about Vinny and what he’d thought they had together. Brock had had other boyfriends since then, but none of them had made him feel quite the way Vinny did. Oh, they got him excited, and he even fell in love once, but in a less soul touching way, whereas Vinny could get his heart racing with just a coy look. They didn’t need to be in the same room. A text from Vinny would have Brock excited just to hear from him. Of course, as he looked back on it, he had been stupid to give his heart and become so invested in things with Vinny so quickly. In the end he’d gotten his heart broken, and Brock let that stew in his mind for a while in order to help him pull his head back onto the task at hand.
A message came through his in-car computer, telling him there were no pending calls, so he decided to go to lunch. Brock sighed with relief and pulled out of his spot, making a right onto Hanover and heading for downtown. Carter Schunk, a friend and fellow officer, had arranged to meet him at the Hanover Grille for lunch.
Brock pulled into town, drove past rows of historic homes and the colonial-era red brick courthouse with its white clock tower, and through the square with its impressive churches. He loved how the old town had a past, and she wore it well. Brock parked in the lot behind the restaurant in one of the spots designated for law enforcement vehicles, because of its proximity to the courthouse, and walked around to the front door. Carter already had a table, and Brock joined him.
“How did it go?”
“Boring,” Brock answered with a slight smile. “Exactly what you told me it would be.”
“I heard your call about a stop.” Carter handed Brock a menu but didn’t open one himself. The Grille was a regular lunch place and Brock pretty much knew the menu by heart. It had been the place his mom took him when they went out to dinner, and it hadn’t changed much over the years.
“I made one, and it turned out to be Vinny….”
“Someone you knew?” Carter leaned a little closer.
“Quite well at one time, if you know what I mean.”
Mary, the server they saw most days at lunch, brought them water, and they each ordered a burger with a salad and some ice tea. They thanked her, and she hurried to put in their orders.
“I gave him a warning because that’s what I think I would have done for anyone else.”
“Good. Always be fair. That’s the best we can do.”
“I try.” Brock smiled when Mary brought their drinks, and then took a sip, the liquid cooling his parched throat.
“I need to change the subject before I forget. You put in for some additional shifts and they’re coming your way. Red is going on vacation.”
“The big guy with the scars?” Brock was still learning who everyone was.
“That’s him.” Carter glanced around the room and even turned behind him. Brock did the same. It was good to know what was happening around you. They were still in uniform, and with all the shootings of police officers in the national news, they needed to be on alert.
“He was so intimidating the first time I met him, but he seems like a really good guy.”
“He’s leaving tomorrow to join his partner in Rio. Terry is on the US Olympic swimming team, and Red is going to watch him compete. I wish I could afford to go too, but with him gone, I put in for you to ride with me for a few weeks, and the captain agreed. So it looks like you’re off traffic duty, for a little while anyway.”
Brock was shocked. He hadn’t expected something like this so soon. “Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me just yet. You might wish you were on traffic duty after two weeks of second shift. It can be very active, especially during the summer. People hole up inside during the day and then come out once the sun goes down and it cools off, with a lot of pent-up energy and frustration. Tempers flare. We get a lot of domestic disturbance calls.”
“It has to beat sitting in a car all day, baking like a ham.”
Carter flashed him a look of amusement. “Pun intended.”
Brock blinked. He didn’t get it.
“Ham… pig….”
Brock groaned and changed the subject. “Do you know if Terry and Red had to take special precautions with the Zika virus and all?”
“Red said he had so many shots, he felt like a pincushion. He and Terry had to be inoculated for everything, and apparently, the US Olympic Committee is bringing its own drinking water for the athletes and their families. They don’t want anyone to get sick. Terry and Red briefly talked about him backing out, but Terry is old enough that this is his last shot at the Olympics. In four years he’ll be too old, so they decided to take the chance.” Carter grinned. “Red would move heaven and earth to see that Terry’s happy, and the reverse is also true.”
“How are things with you? How’s Alex?” Brock had met Carter and Donald’s son a few times, and the six-year-old was completely adorable.
“He’s growing like a weed and getting bigger every day. He’s so excited to be going into the first grade. Unfortunately, he didn’t like his kindergarten teacher, and Donald had to step in and get him moved into a different class. He loved Mrs. Bobb and made up the ground he was behind because of her. So this year he was apprehensive until Donald and I took him down to meet his new teacher. He stood behind my legs at first and refused to look at her because he still wanted Mrs. Bobb as his teacher again and didn’t understand why if he was going to first grade, she wasn’t coming along too. Mr. Keller was patient and gave Alex time. He’s still a little apprehensive around men he doesn’t know, but after a while, they started talking, and by the end, Alex turned to us and asked if school started tomorrow.” Carter took a drink of his tea. “Sorry, I slipped into proud parent mode.”
“Nothing to be sorry for. I asked.” Brock missed his niece and nephew—he hadn’t seen them since they were toddlers.
Mary brought their food and grabbed their glasses for refills. “There you are. I’ll be back in a minute. Can I bring anything besides drinks?”
“Looks good.”
“Thank you.”
She left, and Brock dug into his burger. He was so dang hungry, he could eat a mule whole. Their conversation drew to a halt for a while until the edge on their hunger seemed to have abated.
“So will we be working double shifts while Red and Terry are gone?”
“A few, maybe. But the plan is for us to work seven days, and some of the other guys will give up days off as well. The money will be good, and it’s only for a few weeks, so be sure to get plenty of rest when you’re off. These constant days can drag unless you’re eating and sleeping well.”
They returned to their food, and Mary brought drink refills. Once they were done, Carter excused himself to go to the restroom. Brock again scanned the room and saw Vinny come in with a group of guys. Vinny hadn’t seemed to notice Brock, which was fine.
Still, every few seconds his attention returned to Vinny and the group. Vinny couldn’t see him because his back was mostly to Brock, but Brock saw him talking animatedly, waving his hands before sitting back to laugh—a deep, rich sound he couldn’t completely hear, but knew anyway. The others around the table joined in, and Brock turned away. He wasn’t included in their fun, and even when he and Vinny dated—fucked, whatever it had been—he hadn’t been included in the other parts of Vinny’s life.
“Do you need anything?” Carter asked.
Brock shook his head and silently berated himself for not being more vigilant about what was happening around him. He hadn’t heard Carter come back because he’d let his personal thoughts drag him on a woolgathering expedition, and that needed to stop.
Carter sat down, and Brock went back to use the restroom. He did his business, washed his hands, and used a cold towel to sponge off his face. Once he was done, he rejoined Carter and they paid their bills.
“Have a good afternoon, and tomorrow we’ll ride together.” Carter walked with him to their parked cars. They got in and pulled out of the lot, each going their separate directions.
Brock spent the rest of the day in a few places around town that were notorious for speeders and wrote a number of citations. At least it gave him something to do. He checked the clock and smiled. He had less than half an hour before he could go back to the station and clock out for the day. Brock was very ready.
“All units,” he heard over the radio. “Please be on the lookout for yellow recent-model Corvette convertible driven by two women. Stop if seen, but use caution. There is a report that there are children in the trunk.” Brock blinked and listened more intently, making sure he’d heard correctly. “I repeat, there are reportedly children locked in the trunk of the car.”
“Holy shit,” Brock said to himself. He’d heard stories of what people would do to each other and to children, but this was a surprise even to him.
Brock returned his attention to the road in front of him, one of the main roads from Carlisle to Harrisburg, and sure enough, a yellow Corvette turned his direction from a block away. “I have a possible sighting of the Corvette on Harrisburg Pike headed east. Two women, top down, plate HUF–9080. I am about to intercept and will make it appear a routine traffic stop. Send backup.”
“I’m on my way,” Carter said.
Brock pulled out, maneuvered until he was behind the car, and then flipped on his lights. The Corvette kept going, so Brock put on his siren. Finally the women pulled over and Brock got out of his car.
Carter pulled behind him in his cruiser. He got out as well, and they converged on the women sitting in the expensive two-seater convertible. “May I see your license and registration, please?” Brock asked the driver. Muffled sounds from the back of the car gave him pause. “Please unlock your trunk.” He met the driver’s gaze, but she made no move to comply and stared at him with vacant eyes.
“Get out of the car and keep your hands where I can see them, both of you,” Carter barked, hand on his weapon and ready to draw, and Brock stepped away to give the driver space while the women did as he asked.
“You can’t do this,” the passenger said as Carter had her place both her hands on the hood of the car, her legs spread.
Once Carter had eyes on both women, Brock reached inside the car and found the trunk release. He pressed it, went to the back, and opened the tiny trunk lid. Two sets of eyes peered out from inside.
“It’s okay, sweethearts. No one is going to hurt you.” He pushed the lid all the way open, and a little girl in a pink sundress and white-and-pink-striped tights stood up. Brock guessed she was about three. “We need assistance at Harrisburg Pike near East. I can confirm two children in the trunk. They seem okay so far.” He kept his voice as calm and level as possible.
A boy, about five years old, carefully climbed out of the trunk. “Mama,” he said, pointing to the woman who had been driving the car.
Brock glared at the woman. He had trouble imagining how anyone could be so heartless and cruel as to lock two small children in the trunk of a car on one of the hottest days of the year and then go out joy riding. Not only was it a miracle that they weren’t hurt from being tossed around inside the confined space, but it was lucky they hadn’t been injured from the heat.
He escorted the children onto the grass and into the shade of a nearby tree, then knelt down so he could be more on their level and less intimidating. “I’m Brock. What are your names?”
“Abey, and this is Penny,” the little boy answered and then pointed to the car. “It was scary in there.”
Penny had her thumb in her mouth and stayed close to Abey.
“Is Penny your sister?” Brock asked, and Abey nodded. “Did you take care of her while you were in there?”
“Yes. I held her when we rolled around.”
“You were a very brave big boy.” Brock didn’t know what else to say, but Abey nodded. “Can you stay right here with Penny?” Brock asked as he heard cars approaching. He stood to watch the scene but stayed close to the children.
Two other police vehicles stopped nearby. Both Kip Rogers and Aaron Cloud got out of their vehicles. Aaron was the ranking officer and he’d probably take charge of the scene. Brock stayed where he was as Kip helped Carter handcuff both women and get them loaded into the back of separate police cars. Then Aaron made his way toward Brock and the kids.
“Did you find out why they were in the trunk?” Brock’s heart went out to both children as Aaron stepped away a few feet.
“The car belongs to the passenger, Brenda Weaver, and apparently she’d just bought the car and drove it over to show Rhonda Geraldini. Rhonda wanted to take the car for a spin, and since there was no backseat and she didn’t have a babysitter, she put the kids in the trunk and the women decided to go for a ride.”
“My God,” Brock said softly. Vinny’s sister. Sometimes it was a small, sick world.
“Her excuse was that she thought the kids would be fine and that they weren’t going very far or very fast. Oh, and that there was no backseat in the car for the kids to ride in anyway.” Aaron rolled his eyes.
Brock turned back to the kids and forced a smile. “This is Abey and Penny. Abey held and protected his sister while they were in there so that she wouldn’t get hurt. He’s a very good big brother.”
“Where did they take Mama?” Abey picked at his sleeve, swaying from foot to foot.
“It’s all right. She shouldn’t have put you and Penny in the trunk, so the officers are going to talk with her.” He turned to Aaron, floundering.
“Carter called for some help, and his husband, Donald, is on the way.”
Brock nodded. “I’ve met his family.” That was a huge relief. Donald would know exactly what to do and how to help make sure the kids remained calm. “I’ll stay with the kids here in the shade if you want me too.”
“Perfect. We’ll handle the rest.” Aaron left them, and shortly after, Penny pulled on Abey’s sleeve.
“Penny has to go potty,” Abey said.
“Okay.” He caught Aaron’s eye and motioned to the gas station next door. Then he took each of their hands and gently led them across the grass and into the store. There was just a single bathroom, and Brock waited outside while Abey took Penny inside. He kept watch and listened for any issues. Soon the heavy door moved, and Brock helped open it. They came out, Abey holding Penny’s hand.
“Did you wash up?” Brock smiled when they both nodded, and he led them back through the store. At the register, Brock bought two boxes of animal crackers and handed one to each of them. He also got some bottles of water, then walked the kids across the parking lot to where Donald was waiting for them. “Abey and Penny, this is Mr. Donald. He’s going to be your friend and he’ll help you. I promise. He’s a very nice man.”
Abey’s lower lip quivered, and Penny stepped behind her brother. Brock suspected that all this was way more than they could handle and fear was really setting in.
“I’m going to take both of you to stay with a friend of mine. Okay?” Even Brock found Donald’s voice soothing.
Abey shook his head, turned to Penny, and put his arms around her to shield her from Donald. “No strangers. Mama says so.”
“Am I a stranger?” Brock asked, and Abey turned to look at him but didn’t move away from Penny.
“Yes,” he answered. “But you’re a nice stranger.” He turned and held his box of cookies close to him, and Penny mimicked her brother.
Brock wanted to cry right there by the side of the road. He blinked and had to turn away. Damn it, he wasn’t supposed to get emotional when he was on the job. Take whatever you see, bury it, cover it up, and make it stay there. That’s what he was supposed to do. But how in the hell was that possible when he was looking into two pairs of wide, frightened blue eyes?
“Do you want me to go with you?”
Abey thought a second, screwing up his face in a look of concentration, and then finally nodded. Abey seemed to trust Brock, at least initially.
“Will you stay here with Penny?” Brock asked Abey, and he nodded, holding his sister’s hand. Then Brock and Donald took a few steps away. “I can ride with you to where you’re taking them.”
“That’s the problem. I don’t have a single home with room for two kids. All I have are two separate emergency foster care homes, and they are limited to taking one each at the moment.”
Brock’s gaze hardened and he glared at Donald. “You can’t split them up. They just saw their mother taken away in a police car. Look at him—he’ll fight you tooth and nail if you try to separate him from Penny, and the poor little thing will come apart. She’s already got half her hand in her mouth, she’s under so much stress.”
“Emergency foster homes require special certification, and I can’t just make things up as I go along. I have to go by the book. These are court matters.”
“Crap….” Brock wished he could do something—anything—about the fear in their eyes. “You do what you have to do, but so help me God….” Maybe this profession wasn’t the right one for him. “I took an oath to protect and serve, and if I can’t help little ones like them, then what the hell good am I in the first place?” Brock couldn’t just walk away.
Donald sighed and turned to look to where Carter was searching the car. Brock saw the moment Carter realized Donald was looking at him. He could almost see the zing of awareness that passed between them, it was so strong.
Carter and Donald seemed to communicate with each other without saying a word, and Brock saw Carter nod to Donald, who smiled and then turned back to him. “Carter and I will take them in. I’m certified as an emergency foster home, and we have enough room for the two of them if they share a room.”
“I doubt you’re going to get them to sleep apart.”
“You’re probably right, though I think Penny is going to need a bed with a rail to ensure she doesn’t roll out, but I can accommodate that.”
Brock turned to the kids, who were still frightened. Penny had ripped open her box of crackers and was eating them while Abey still held his with the handle clutched in his fists. He looked about as defiant as a five-year-old could when fear was stalking close by.
“Mr. Donald is going to take you home with him.”
Abey once again shook his head and moved closer to Penny.
“Would it be okay if I went along with you?” Brock asked, and Abey nodded his agreement after a few seconds, looking from Donald and then to him.
“I’ve got a car seat as well as a booster in my car, so the kids can ride with me.”
“I need to clock out, and then I’ll be over to your house as soon as I can get there.” Brock knelt down. “Mr. Donald is going to take you to his house, where he has a lot of really fun toys, and his son, Alex, will be there for you to play with. I promise I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Brock took both kids’ hands, led them to Donald’s car, and got them buckled in. “I promise I’ll be over to see you soon.” Brock closed the door and stepped away from the car. As soon as Donald pulled away, Brock hurried to where Carter and Aaron were comparing notes.
“Are you clocking out?” Carter asked.
“Yes. The kids are with Donald, and I told him I’d be over as soon as I could.”
“Why?” Aaron asked.
Brock thought that was one of the dumbest questions he’d ever heard but kept his reaction off his face. “The kids trust me for some reason, and they’re suspicious of Donald. So I want to make sure they’re okay.”
“Good. Tell Donald I’ll be home as soon as we button things up here and I can get the paperwork done on our ‘mother of the year.’”
Brock got in his car, radioed in, and headed to the station. Once there, he clocked out and left as soon as he could. He made a quick stop at his apartment over Victorian Antiques on Hanover Street, where he changed clothes. Then he headed out, walking the few blocks to Donald’s as fast as possible. He knocked, and Donald answered the door with Penny in his arms, tears streaking her face. She reached for him, so Brock took her and rubbed her back to try to soothe her as he stepped inside.
Abey sat on the sofa, staring at nothing, his little legs sticking out in front of him. He seemed so forlorn, but when he saw Brock, he perked up, slid to the floor, and walked over.
“Penny is fine, little protector,” Brock said, sitting on the sofa. Abey climbed up and sat next to him. “Where’s Alex?”
“He’s at the neighbors’ house, playing with a friend. I have to go over and get him, but I wanted to wait for you. I’ll be right back.” Donald left, and Brock gathered Abey to him with his free arm.
“Are you hungry? You can eat your crackers if you want.”
Abey looked down at the red box covered with circus animals and slowly opened it. He ate one of the animal-shaped crackers inside and then handed one up to Brock. He ate it and thanked Abey for sharing. Penny’s box was on the table, so he leaned over, got one, and handed it up to her. She took it but continued holding him tight, like she had no intention of letting him go.
Donald returned with hurricane Alex, who blew in amid a flurry of storytelling. “Mark said that he was the bestest at bike riding and I said unh-uh, and he said he was, but I beat him so I was right. But he….” His conversation cut off midsentence when he saw Brock and the kids.
“Alex, this is Penny and Abey. They’re going to be staying with us for a little while. Is that okay?”
Alex looked up at Donald and then at the two youngsters as though he were thinking. Then he turned back up to Donald. “Are they like me?”
“They’re like you were when you first came to live with me. They need my help. Is that okay?” Brock liked the way Donald always seemed to ask questions rather than forcing the kids to do what he wished. Granted, in the end, Donald got what he wanted, but he always made Alex part of the process.
“I still get my room, right?” Suspicion clouded Alex’s adorable face.
“Of course. They’re going to sleep in the room next to yours.”
“Okay.” Alex walked right over to Abey. “Do you want to play Legos? I got lots of ’em.”
Abey hesitated and then slid down off the sofa, handed Brock his animal crackers, and followed Alex to the corner of the room where his toy box was.
“Do you want to play too?” Brock asked Penny, but she seemed content to stay right where she was. She did lift her head, though, watching the boys.
“They’ve been through a lot in a very short time. All we can do is give comfort. If I knew them, I’d try to find out their routine and stick with it. But we’re going to have to wing it.” Donald approached slowly. “Are you hungry, sweet girl?”
Penny nodded slowly.
“Do you like macaroni and cheese?” Donald asked, and she nodded again.
“I’ll go make some. Do you want to help me?” Donald extended his hand, and Penny looked at it for a while. Brock didn’t think she was going to go for it, but then she took Donald’s hand, and Brock let her go into Donald’s arms. “There you are. Let’s go make some dinner.” He carried Penny into the kitchen, and Brock sat where he was, watching the boys play. Abey seemed content to spend time with Alex and wasn’t fussing as they scooted around the floor, chattering like they were old friends.
Brock pushed to his feet and walked to where Donald had gone. “I think they’re settled now, so I’ll get out of your hair.” There really wasn’t a need for him to be there any longer. Penny and Abey were safe, and Donald knew how to take care of them and would shepherd them to a more permanent living location.
“Stay for dinner. Once the kids are fed, I have some steaks marinating and there’s plenty.” Donald moved around his kitchen with practiced ease, even with Penny in his arms.
“I don’t want to impose, and—”
Donald interrupted him. “Nonsense. You did a great thing today, and the least I can do is feed you. Besides, what are you going to do? Go out and eat more fried stuff, or heat up a TV dinner and sit in front of the television?” Donald pulled out a plastic bag and set it on the counter. The marinating steaks looked dang good, and Brock’s belly let him know it. “And I could use your help. I don’t know when Carter will be home exactly, and I need to log in and see what I can find out about these two, as well as get them in the system, so you’d be doing me a favor.” Donald smiled, and Brock caved and returned to the living room.
It wasn’t long before Donald called the boys in, and Alex held Abey’s hand as they went to eat. Brock followed and took a seat at the table. “I can stay here if you have things to do,” Brock offered.
“Awesome.” Donald hurried out of the room.
“How are you, pretty Penny?” Brock asked. She was getting more of her dinner on her than in her so Brock gave her a hand, using the spoon to feed her. He got smiles for that and even a few giggles. Abey seemed contented enough to chat with his new friend Alex.
The kids were almost done eating when Donald returned. “I was able to get a court time for tomorrow.” Donald’s tone didn’t betray any of the seriousness of what he was saying, and the kids didn’t pay any attention to him. “We can talk more once they’re in bed.”
Brock nodded and returned to the “open the barn door” game duty as he fed Penny.
Carter got home as they finished, and the boys went back into the living room to play. Carter leaned over where Donald sat at the table and kissed him soundly. “I got home as fast as I could.” Carter shook Brock’s hand and sat down himself. “I have the information you’re going to need. The kids’ last name is Geraldini. I was able to search birth records. Their mother is Rhonda Geraldini, who is currently our guest and is likely to remain that way for a while. They might have different fathers, and Rhonda has never been married.”
“Thanks. I’ll check on them in the system in a few minutes.”
“Rhonda has a—”
“Brother…. Vincent,” Brock supplied, and Carter paused, looking at him in astonishment.
“Okay. You’ve either developed ESP or something is going on.” He turned to Donald, who shrugged.
“I used to date Vincent, but that was some time ago. He left town and moved to Shippensburg, but he’s back now and we have his address.” Brock grinned. “Sometimes small-town living is priceless. I gave him a warning for speeding this morning.”
“Okay. Let me call the station and see if we can get his phone number so we can contact him as a possible guardian.” Carter kissed Donald one more time and left the room.
Soon Brock heard him talking on the phone in the other room. “Is it always like this with what you do?” Brock asked.
“Sometimes. People don’t always neglect or hurt their children on a nine-to-five schedule.” Donald got out a plate. “The grill is out back. Would you mind going to light it? Or we’re never going to get some dinner.”
“Sure.” Brock found the grill on the patio in the backyard and easily got it lit. He closed the lid to let it heat and returned to where Donald had started the rest of dinner. Penny sat in her chair, eyes drooping, and Brock figured it was best to let her sleep. He checked on the boys and saw they were having a good time. Legos were strewn all over the living room floor, but the boys seemed to have moved on to playing cars and trucks.
“Alex, buddy, why don’t you pick up the Legos?”
Alex looked at him like he’d just said the dumbest thing ever. “They’re the track.” They zoomed the cars around the room, and it took them a few moments to realize the Legos didn’t make a very good track. Alex gathered them up, and they ran the cars and trucks along the floor, playing like they had known each other forever.
Carter finished what he needed and passed the address information to Donald, then took over kitchen duty while Donald grabbed his laptop and sat next to Brock on the sofa. It was like a balancing act between Carter and Donald. They instinctively seemed to know what the other needed to do and made a way for it to happen.
From where Brock sat, he could see Penny asleep in the high chair and watch Abey and Alex, so he kept vigil while the two of them did what they needed to do.
“Got it.”
“What?”
“A phone number.” Donald grabbed his phone and made a call. He left a message and then hung up. “At least I have the right number, according to the voice mail.”
Donald returned to the kitchen, and Brock watched the children and did his best to stay out of the way. “Don’t the kids need clothes?” Brock asked.
“I have some they can use for the time being, and tomorrow we’ll have to see about getting them some more.” Donald stayed in the kitchen, and Carter approached and sat next to Brock on the sofa.
“Their mother is being charged with multiple counts, and while she may get out on bail, it isn’t likely she’s going to be getting the kids back easily. Not with her history. But that will be up to the courts, of course. Donald and I will keep the kids here until they either get a more permanent placement or are awarded back to their mother.”
“Mama,” Penny suddenly cried from the kitchen, whimpering.
Brock got up, lifted her out of her chair, and carried her back to the living room. Abey stopped playing and stood next to Brock, protecting his sister like he had earlier in the day. Penny continued to cry on Brock’s shoulder.
“It’s all right, sweetheart,” Brock soothed. Her cries must have agitated Abey, so Carter picked him up and set him on his lap. Alex climbed on the sofa, and soon the children surrounded them. It was an amazing feeling to be needed like this.
Penny’s cries eventually died away, and the boys’ energy got the best of them so they returned to their play.
The phone rang in the other room and Donald answered it, then sent Carter out with the plate of steaks. Donald continued talking as he worked and then hung up.
“What is it?” Brock could see Donald’s agitation.
“That was the kids’ uncle. He said that he and his sister are estranged and that he hasn’t seen Abey since he was eighteen months old and has never met Penny. He was shocked to know he had a niece at all.”
“Is he going to come see the kids?”
“I know you and he have a history, but I need to do what’s best for the kids, and having a relationship with family members is the best thing. So I invited him over in an hour. At least he can meet the kids.” Donald paced slowly. “I was hoping for someone the kids knew so that this whole thing would be less of a shock.”
“I don’t think there’s any way around that now.” Brock turned to where all three kids were playing. “They deserve so much better than what happened to them.” He was having a hard time letting go of the image of opening that trunk and seeing those sweet children in there. He’d been warned, but nothing could have prepared him for that. Nothing at all. Brock turned away and reminded himself that no matter what he might have thought of their uncle, what was best for Penny and Abey was what mattered.
Donald called him in to eat. The dining area was open through an archway to the living room, so they could easily see the kids as they ate. None of them talked very much, their attention focused on the three kids. Eventually Penny came over and stood next to Brock’s chair. He lifted her onto his lap, and she settled in. She didn’t seem hungry, even though he offered her some of what he was eating.
“It looks like you made a real friend.”
“I have no idea why,” Brock told Carter.
“Because you helped them. They had to have been terrified being in that trunk, and you got them out and were nice to them.”
Abey approached the table, stood next to Donald, and whispered to him. Donald got up, took Abey by the hand, and led him out of the room. Then Donald returned and sat back down.
“Is he okay?” Brock figured he needed to be shown where the bathroom was, and Donald confirmed his suspicion.
“Yes. Just needed to go to the bathroom.” Donald kept an eye out, and sure enough, Abey returned and began playing with Alex once again.
The doorbell rang just as they finished dinner. Donald took his plate into the kitchen and then went to answer the door. Brock’s tension rose instantly, and when he saw Vincent following Donald into the living room, he wasn’t so sure how he felt about seeing him again. But the near-frantic expression on Vincent’s face pushed aside his own discomfort for the sake of the kids.
“I’m Donald, a social worker with child services, and this is my husband, Carter. And I believe you know Brock already. He and Carter work together.”
Vinny nodded, his attention going right to the little girl still on Brock’s lap. Her little thumb stuck in her mouth and she turned away, hiding her face against Brock’s chest. “I haven’t seen Abey in years, and this little girl….” The hitch in Vinny’s voice caught Brock’s attention.
“Then why don’t you come meet both of them.” Donald led the way to the living room and invited Vinny to sit down. Brock lifted Penny before standing, followed Vinny, and sat next to him. Penny hid once again, but Brock hoped she’d get over the initial shyness if he were patient.
“Were you the one who helped them?” Vinny asked.
“Yes. Do you know what happened?”
Vinny shook his head. “Just that they were taken away.”
“I thought it best to tell him face-to-face rather than on the phone.” Donald sat in one of the two leather recliners and motioned Abey to come over. “This is your Uncle Vincent. He’s your mother’s brother.”
“I met you when you were a baby.” Vinny smiled.
“I’m not a baby anymore. I’m a big boy.” Abey leaned back against Donald. All of this had to be a lot for these kids.
“I can see that.” Vinny kept glancing around the room, confusion reigning.
Abey stared at Vinny and then went back to join Alex where he was playing.
“I think he’s really confused. The kids saw the police take your sister and her friend away.”
Vinny didn’t move as though not sure what to do.
Donald stood, walked over to where Brock sat on the sofa, and lifted Penny into his arms. “I think it’s time for this one to have a bath and then go to sleep.” Donald headed upstairs, and Brock watched as Abey continued to play.
“Apparently a friend of your sister got a new car and they decided to take it out for a ride. It was a Corvette without a backseat, so your sister put the kids in the trunk.” When Vinny gasped, Brock nodded to confirm what he’d said. “Someone reported her, and I stopped the car and found the kids.”
“Where is Rhonda now?”
“She’s in jail, pending a hearing in the morning.”
“Can you get her some help?” Vinny asked as Carter joined them. “My sister has mental health problems. She sometimes hears voices and she’s supposed to be on medication, but she doesn’t always take it. But even when she does, her ability to make sound judgments is compromised.”
“I don’t know. At the moment it’s pretty much up to the courts and social workers. But what about her friend? I would hope that one of them would be able to think clearly.”
“Rhonda doesn’t pick her friends for clear thinking. She picks them based upon their ability to go along with her ideas and notions. So any of Rhonda’s friends aren’t likely to be the kinds of people to act as voices of reason. Is she being tested?”
“Yes. We’re running a number of tests to see if she was impaired in any way. She didn’t seem particularly lucid when I took her into custody.”
Vinny nodded and sat back, putting his hands over his eyes. “I was always afraid of something like this. I knew she’d had Abey, but I didn’t have a clue about Penny. I think I talked to her last about six months ago, and then maybe a year before that. She’d only call when she wanted something, and the last few times, I’ve had to tell her no. I wanted to help, I really did, but she bled my parents dry and ran them into debt. What should have been relatively comfortable retirement years turned into hard ones for them. She pestered and begged for whatever they had, and because Rhonda was their daughter, they gave her what they could.” Vinny seemed about ready to fall apart, which was eye-opening for Brock. Vinny took a deep breath and blinked. “At least the kids are safe.” He released his breath. “So what happens now?”
The trepidation in Vinny’s voice touched Brock. He really cared about these kids and that said something about him. Brock wanted to think of Vinny as being selfish and uncaring. That made the earlier rejection easier to handle. But he wasn’t, and Brock was relieved for Abey and Penny’s sake, but it left him wondering what he’d done wrong.
Hell, he wasn’t going to complain—he knew he was the luckiest guy on earth to have this job at all. When he’d applied, he was told there weren’t any openings and they’d put his résumé in the file in case something came up. He hadn’t had much hope, but then he’d been called for an interview just ten days later because one of the officers decided to move back South. He’d worked hard to make a good impression and seemed to have pulled it off. Of course, that meant he now got to sit in a patrol car watching vehicles as they passed by, their speeds registering on the radar system installed in the dashboard.
Vehicles of every description passed in front of him, everything from tiny Smart cars to huge semitrailers. He checked the speed of each one and yawned. Hours of sitting with the engine running, and even then the air-conditioning barely kept up with the heat from the sun pouring through the windows. It was like being in a tin can roasting in an oven, with no place to go. Brock hadn’t moved in forever. It seemed the word was out about where he’d been stationed. Everyone was slowing down, driving sedately past him, and probably speeding up as soon as they were out of sight. Still, he knew the purpose of him being there was to act more as a deterrent and get people to slow down in the first place.
A red sports car with the convertible top down passed, going fast enough that the radar peeped. Brock put the car in gear, flipped on his lights, and pulled out, joining the flow of traffic and keeping the offender in sight. As he drove, he called in to report the stop and gave the license plate to the dispatcher to make sure the car hadn’t been reported stolen. The other cars got out of the way, and when Brock stayed behind the offender, the driver pulled to the side. Now he needed to be careful. Traffic stops, while routine, could also be dangerous. He got out of his car and walked up to the other vehicle, where a head of thick black hair poked up above the seat.
“Could I see your license and registration, please?” Brock asked as he looked over the inside of the car, checking for any sort of weapon. “Do you know how fast you were going?”
The driver turned to him, and Brock stared into a very familiar set of eyes.
“Vinny,” Brock said, relaxing a little. “I see you still drive like a bat out of hell.” He waited for him to hand over his license. “I guess some things never change.”
“I prefer Vincent now,” he said.
Brock ignored the comment and went back to his car to run the information. Not that he needed the driver’s license. He knew everything there was to know about Vincent Geraldini. He’d learned enough while the two of them dated years earlier. Granted, it hadn’t been for very long, but just as Brock thought they might be getting serious, Vinny—Vincent—had backed away.
Vinny’s record came back clean, and Brock sat in his car a little longer than was necessary, thinking about what he was going to do. At the speed Vinny had been going, writing a citation was discretionary, so Brock was still debating. Maybe he could write him one for being a dickweed. Brock opened the door, got out of his car again, and returned to Vinny.
“Are you going to give me a ticket?” Vinny asked. He was always the kind of guy who tackled things head-on. It had been one of the things Brock had first liked about him. There was no backing down in Vinny. He always asked what he wanted to know and stared people down until he got an answer.
“I’m still deciding.” Brock opened his pad and began writing. Usually he’d do that in the car, but he wanted Vinny to squirm a little and wonder exactly what he was doing. Not getting the answers he wanted was one of the things Brock knew would get under Vinny’s skin, and he wanted that at the moment. Sometimes it was easy to do, such as moments like this when Vinny was not the one in control. “Are you visiting?” Brock asked, having noticed that the address on Vinny’s license read Shippensburg.
“No. I moved back to Carlisle recently and I still have to get the address on my license changed.” Vinny gave him his new address, and Brock added that to the information on the sheet.
Brock had to force himself to keep writing when Vinny turned his way once again, tilting his head upward just enough that Brock got a good look into his intense brown eyes with their flecks of gold. For a split second, he flashed on a memory of just how those eyes shone in the afternoon sun, his olive-colored skin contrasted against the blanket, covered with a light sheen of sweat as Brock leaned over him…. Brock took a deep breath, released it, and hoped like hell that Vinny hadn’t seen anything in his expression. What had happened between them had no bearing on today and how he was going to react.
“I’m going to give you a warning. But….” Brock leaned over the side of the car, his gaze zeroing in on Vinny, and he suppressed a smile when he saw him shudder a little. “This will stay in your file here, and if you get stopped again, this will turn into a citation, along with the one the officer is sure to give you then. So slow down and drive safely.”
“Of course, Brock.” The momentary heat in Vinny’s eyes dissipated as he took the slip of paper. “I’ll be careful.”
Brock glared for a split second. He wasn’t buying that act. Vinny had never been one of those guys who played it safe. Not at least as far as Brock knew.
He patted the door of the car twice and stepped back. “Have a good day.” He turned to walk back to his patrol car.
“Is that all?” Vinny asked.
Brock continued walking and got inside, watching as Vinny pulled out into traffic and guided his car up to the next intersection. Brock turned off his lights, merged as well, and made his way to his original location. He turned on his radar equipment and settled into his routine. He called in to let dispatch know he was back at his location and then tried to get comfortable.
That stop seemed to be his excitement for the morning. Well, that and the fact that now that he’d seen Vinny again, he couldn’t seem to get his mind back where it belonged. He watched cars go by and paid attention to the radar, but his mind kept wandering to the summer between his junior and senior year of college. Maybe he and Vinny were too young at that point to have really made a go of it, but Brock had fallen in love with the olive-skinned, vibrant, take-no-prisoners Vinny. But obviously the feelings hadn’t been returned. Either that or what they’d had was just some summer fling to Vinny that was over as soon as the weather broke and they went back to school. The heat of those summer months, both outside and between them, was something Brock wasn’t ever likely to forget. He grew warm and shifted in his seat just remembering it.
Not that he particularly wanted to spend part of his day thinking about Vinny and what he’d thought they had together. Brock had had other boyfriends since then, but none of them had made him feel quite the way Vinny did. Oh, they got him excited, and he even fell in love once, but in a less soul touching way, whereas Vinny could get his heart racing with just a coy look. They didn’t need to be in the same room. A text from Vinny would have Brock excited just to hear from him. Of course, as he looked back on it, he had been stupid to give his heart and become so invested in things with Vinny so quickly. In the end he’d gotten his heart broken, and Brock let that stew in his mind for a while in order to help him pull his head back onto the task at hand.
A message came through his in-car computer, telling him there were no pending calls, so he decided to go to lunch. Brock sighed with relief and pulled out of his spot, making a right onto Hanover and heading for downtown. Carter Schunk, a friend and fellow officer, had arranged to meet him at the Hanover Grille for lunch.
Brock pulled into town, drove past rows of historic homes and the colonial-era red brick courthouse with its white clock tower, and through the square with its impressive churches. He loved how the old town had a past, and she wore it well. Brock parked in the lot behind the restaurant in one of the spots designated for law enforcement vehicles, because of its proximity to the courthouse, and walked around to the front door. Carter already had a table, and Brock joined him.
“How did it go?”
“Boring,” Brock answered with a slight smile. “Exactly what you told me it would be.”
“I heard your call about a stop.” Carter handed Brock a menu but didn’t open one himself. The Grille was a regular lunch place and Brock pretty much knew the menu by heart. It had been the place his mom took him when they went out to dinner, and it hadn’t changed much over the years.
“I made one, and it turned out to be Vinny….”
“Someone you knew?” Carter leaned a little closer.
“Quite well at one time, if you know what I mean.”
Mary, the server they saw most days at lunch, brought them water, and they each ordered a burger with a salad and some ice tea. They thanked her, and she hurried to put in their orders.
“I gave him a warning because that’s what I think I would have done for anyone else.”
“Good. Always be fair. That’s the best we can do.”
“I try.” Brock smiled when Mary brought their drinks, and then took a sip, the liquid cooling his parched throat.
“I need to change the subject before I forget. You put in for some additional shifts and they’re coming your way. Red is going on vacation.”
“The big guy with the scars?” Brock was still learning who everyone was.
“That’s him.” Carter glanced around the room and even turned behind him. Brock did the same. It was good to know what was happening around you. They were still in uniform, and with all the shootings of police officers in the national news, they needed to be on alert.
“He was so intimidating the first time I met him, but he seems like a really good guy.”
“He’s leaving tomorrow to join his partner in Rio. Terry is on the US Olympic swimming team, and Red is going to watch him compete. I wish I could afford to go too, but with him gone, I put in for you to ride with me for a few weeks, and the captain agreed. So it looks like you’re off traffic duty, for a little while anyway.”
Brock was shocked. He hadn’t expected something like this so soon. “Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me just yet. You might wish you were on traffic duty after two weeks of second shift. It can be very active, especially during the summer. People hole up inside during the day and then come out once the sun goes down and it cools off, with a lot of pent-up energy and frustration. Tempers flare. We get a lot of domestic disturbance calls.”
“It has to beat sitting in a car all day, baking like a ham.”
Carter flashed him a look of amusement. “Pun intended.”
Brock blinked. He didn’t get it.
“Ham… pig….”
Brock groaned and changed the subject. “Do you know if Terry and Red had to take special precautions with the Zika virus and all?”
“Red said he had so many shots, he felt like a pincushion. He and Terry had to be inoculated for everything, and apparently, the US Olympic Committee is bringing its own drinking water for the athletes and their families. They don’t want anyone to get sick. Terry and Red briefly talked about him backing out, but Terry is old enough that this is his last shot at the Olympics. In four years he’ll be too old, so they decided to take the chance.” Carter grinned. “Red would move heaven and earth to see that Terry’s happy, and the reverse is also true.”
“How are things with you? How’s Alex?” Brock had met Carter and Donald’s son a few times, and the six-year-old was completely adorable.
“He’s growing like a weed and getting bigger every day. He’s so excited to be going into the first grade. Unfortunately, he didn’t like his kindergarten teacher, and Donald had to step in and get him moved into a different class. He loved Mrs. Bobb and made up the ground he was behind because of her. So this year he was apprehensive until Donald and I took him down to meet his new teacher. He stood behind my legs at first and refused to look at her because he still wanted Mrs. Bobb as his teacher again and didn’t understand why if he was going to first grade, she wasn’t coming along too. Mr. Keller was patient and gave Alex time. He’s still a little apprehensive around men he doesn’t know, but after a while, they started talking, and by the end, Alex turned to us and asked if school started tomorrow.” Carter took a drink of his tea. “Sorry, I slipped into proud parent mode.”
“Nothing to be sorry for. I asked.” Brock missed his niece and nephew—he hadn’t seen them since they were toddlers.
Mary brought their food and grabbed their glasses for refills. “There you are. I’ll be back in a minute. Can I bring anything besides drinks?”
“Looks good.”
“Thank you.”
She left, and Brock dug into his burger. He was so dang hungry, he could eat a mule whole. Their conversation drew to a halt for a while until the edge on their hunger seemed to have abated.
“So will we be working double shifts while Red and Terry are gone?”
“A few, maybe. But the plan is for us to work seven days, and some of the other guys will give up days off as well. The money will be good, and it’s only for a few weeks, so be sure to get plenty of rest when you’re off. These constant days can drag unless you’re eating and sleeping well.”
They returned to their food, and Mary brought drink refills. Once they were done, Carter excused himself to go to the restroom. Brock again scanned the room and saw Vinny come in with a group of guys. Vinny hadn’t seemed to notice Brock, which was fine.
Still, every few seconds his attention returned to Vinny and the group. Vinny couldn’t see him because his back was mostly to Brock, but Brock saw him talking animatedly, waving his hands before sitting back to laugh—a deep, rich sound he couldn’t completely hear, but knew anyway. The others around the table joined in, and Brock turned away. He wasn’t included in their fun, and even when he and Vinny dated—fucked, whatever it had been—he hadn’t been included in the other parts of Vinny’s life.
“Do you need anything?” Carter asked.
Brock shook his head and silently berated himself for not being more vigilant about what was happening around him. He hadn’t heard Carter come back because he’d let his personal thoughts drag him on a woolgathering expedition, and that needed to stop.
Carter sat down, and Brock went back to use the restroom. He did his business, washed his hands, and used a cold towel to sponge off his face. Once he was done, he rejoined Carter and they paid their bills.
“Have a good afternoon, and tomorrow we’ll ride together.” Carter walked with him to their parked cars. They got in and pulled out of the lot, each going their separate directions.
Brock spent the rest of the day in a few places around town that were notorious for speeders and wrote a number of citations. At least it gave him something to do. He checked the clock and smiled. He had less than half an hour before he could go back to the station and clock out for the day. Brock was very ready.
“All units,” he heard over the radio. “Please be on the lookout for yellow recent-model Corvette convertible driven by two women. Stop if seen, but use caution. There is a report that there are children in the trunk.” Brock blinked and listened more intently, making sure he’d heard correctly. “I repeat, there are reportedly children locked in the trunk of the car.”
“Holy shit,” Brock said to himself. He’d heard stories of what people would do to each other and to children, but this was a surprise even to him.
Brock returned his attention to the road in front of him, one of the main roads from Carlisle to Harrisburg, and sure enough, a yellow Corvette turned his direction from a block away. “I have a possible sighting of the Corvette on Harrisburg Pike headed east. Two women, top down, plate HUF–9080. I am about to intercept and will make it appear a routine traffic stop. Send backup.”
“I’m on my way,” Carter said.
Brock pulled out, maneuvered until he was behind the car, and then flipped on his lights. The Corvette kept going, so Brock put on his siren. Finally the women pulled over and Brock got out of his car.
Carter pulled behind him in his cruiser. He got out as well, and they converged on the women sitting in the expensive two-seater convertible. “May I see your license and registration, please?” Brock asked the driver. Muffled sounds from the back of the car gave him pause. “Please unlock your trunk.” He met the driver’s gaze, but she made no move to comply and stared at him with vacant eyes.
“Get out of the car and keep your hands where I can see them, both of you,” Carter barked, hand on his weapon and ready to draw, and Brock stepped away to give the driver space while the women did as he asked.
“You can’t do this,” the passenger said as Carter had her place both her hands on the hood of the car, her legs spread.
Once Carter had eyes on both women, Brock reached inside the car and found the trunk release. He pressed it, went to the back, and opened the tiny trunk lid. Two sets of eyes peered out from inside.
“It’s okay, sweethearts. No one is going to hurt you.” He pushed the lid all the way open, and a little girl in a pink sundress and white-and-pink-striped tights stood up. Brock guessed she was about three. “We need assistance at Harrisburg Pike near East. I can confirm two children in the trunk. They seem okay so far.” He kept his voice as calm and level as possible.
A boy, about five years old, carefully climbed out of the trunk. “Mama,” he said, pointing to the woman who had been driving the car.
Brock glared at the woman. He had trouble imagining how anyone could be so heartless and cruel as to lock two small children in the trunk of a car on one of the hottest days of the year and then go out joy riding. Not only was it a miracle that they weren’t hurt from being tossed around inside the confined space, but it was lucky they hadn’t been injured from the heat.
He escorted the children onto the grass and into the shade of a nearby tree, then knelt down so he could be more on their level and less intimidating. “I’m Brock. What are your names?”
“Abey, and this is Penny,” the little boy answered and then pointed to the car. “It was scary in there.”
Penny had her thumb in her mouth and stayed close to Abey.
“Is Penny your sister?” Brock asked, and Abey nodded. “Did you take care of her while you were in there?”
“Yes. I held her when we rolled around.”
“You were a very brave big boy.” Brock didn’t know what else to say, but Abey nodded. “Can you stay right here with Penny?” Brock asked as he heard cars approaching. He stood to watch the scene but stayed close to the children.
Two other police vehicles stopped nearby. Both Kip Rogers and Aaron Cloud got out of their vehicles. Aaron was the ranking officer and he’d probably take charge of the scene. Brock stayed where he was as Kip helped Carter handcuff both women and get them loaded into the back of separate police cars. Then Aaron made his way toward Brock and the kids.
“Did you find out why they were in the trunk?” Brock’s heart went out to both children as Aaron stepped away a few feet.
“The car belongs to the passenger, Brenda Weaver, and apparently she’d just bought the car and drove it over to show Rhonda Geraldini. Rhonda wanted to take the car for a spin, and since there was no backseat and she didn’t have a babysitter, she put the kids in the trunk and the women decided to go for a ride.”
“My God,” Brock said softly. Vinny’s sister. Sometimes it was a small, sick world.
“Her excuse was that she thought the kids would be fine and that they weren’t going very far or very fast. Oh, and that there was no backseat in the car for the kids to ride in anyway.” Aaron rolled his eyes.
Brock turned back to the kids and forced a smile. “This is Abey and Penny. Abey held and protected his sister while they were in there so that she wouldn’t get hurt. He’s a very good big brother.”
“Where did they take Mama?” Abey picked at his sleeve, swaying from foot to foot.
“It’s all right. She shouldn’t have put you and Penny in the trunk, so the officers are going to talk with her.” He turned to Aaron, floundering.
“Carter called for some help, and his husband, Donald, is on the way.”
Brock nodded. “I’ve met his family.” That was a huge relief. Donald would know exactly what to do and how to help make sure the kids remained calm. “I’ll stay with the kids here in the shade if you want me too.”
“Perfect. We’ll handle the rest.” Aaron left them, and shortly after, Penny pulled on Abey’s sleeve.
“Penny has to go potty,” Abey said.
“Okay.” He caught Aaron’s eye and motioned to the gas station next door. Then he took each of their hands and gently led them across the grass and into the store. There was just a single bathroom, and Brock waited outside while Abey took Penny inside. He kept watch and listened for any issues. Soon the heavy door moved, and Brock helped open it. They came out, Abey holding Penny’s hand.
“Did you wash up?” Brock smiled when they both nodded, and he led them back through the store. At the register, Brock bought two boxes of animal crackers and handed one to each of them. He also got some bottles of water, then walked the kids across the parking lot to where Donald was waiting for them. “Abey and Penny, this is Mr. Donald. He’s going to be your friend and he’ll help you. I promise. He’s a very nice man.”
Abey’s lower lip quivered, and Penny stepped behind her brother. Brock suspected that all this was way more than they could handle and fear was really setting in.
“I’m going to take both of you to stay with a friend of mine. Okay?” Even Brock found Donald’s voice soothing.
Abey shook his head, turned to Penny, and put his arms around her to shield her from Donald. “No strangers. Mama says so.”
“Am I a stranger?” Brock asked, and Abey turned to look at him but didn’t move away from Penny.
“Yes,” he answered. “But you’re a nice stranger.” He turned and held his box of cookies close to him, and Penny mimicked her brother.
Brock wanted to cry right there by the side of the road. He blinked and had to turn away. Damn it, he wasn’t supposed to get emotional when he was on the job. Take whatever you see, bury it, cover it up, and make it stay there. That’s what he was supposed to do. But how in the hell was that possible when he was looking into two pairs of wide, frightened blue eyes?
“Do you want me to go with you?”
Abey thought a second, screwing up his face in a look of concentration, and then finally nodded. Abey seemed to trust Brock, at least initially.
“Will you stay here with Penny?” Brock asked Abey, and he nodded, holding his sister’s hand. Then Brock and Donald took a few steps away. “I can ride with you to where you’re taking them.”
“That’s the problem. I don’t have a single home with room for two kids. All I have are two separate emergency foster care homes, and they are limited to taking one each at the moment.”
Brock’s gaze hardened and he glared at Donald. “You can’t split them up. They just saw their mother taken away in a police car. Look at him—he’ll fight you tooth and nail if you try to separate him from Penny, and the poor little thing will come apart. She’s already got half her hand in her mouth, she’s under so much stress.”
“Emergency foster homes require special certification, and I can’t just make things up as I go along. I have to go by the book. These are court matters.”
“Crap….” Brock wished he could do something—anything—about the fear in their eyes. “You do what you have to do, but so help me God….” Maybe this profession wasn’t the right one for him. “I took an oath to protect and serve, and if I can’t help little ones like them, then what the hell good am I in the first place?” Brock couldn’t just walk away.
Donald sighed and turned to look to where Carter was searching the car. Brock saw the moment Carter realized Donald was looking at him. He could almost see the zing of awareness that passed between them, it was so strong.
Carter and Donald seemed to communicate with each other without saying a word, and Brock saw Carter nod to Donald, who smiled and then turned back to him. “Carter and I will take them in. I’m certified as an emergency foster home, and we have enough room for the two of them if they share a room.”
“I doubt you’re going to get them to sleep apart.”
“You’re probably right, though I think Penny is going to need a bed with a rail to ensure she doesn’t roll out, but I can accommodate that.”
Brock turned to the kids, who were still frightened. Penny had ripped open her box of crackers and was eating them while Abey still held his with the handle clutched in his fists. He looked about as defiant as a five-year-old could when fear was stalking close by.
“Mr. Donald is going to take you home with him.”
Abey once again shook his head and moved closer to Penny.
“Would it be okay if I went along with you?” Brock asked, and Abey nodded his agreement after a few seconds, looking from Donald and then to him.
“I’ve got a car seat as well as a booster in my car, so the kids can ride with me.”
“I need to clock out, and then I’ll be over to your house as soon as I can get there.” Brock knelt down. “Mr. Donald is going to take you to his house, where he has a lot of really fun toys, and his son, Alex, will be there for you to play with. I promise I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Brock took both kids’ hands, led them to Donald’s car, and got them buckled in. “I promise I’ll be over to see you soon.” Brock closed the door and stepped away from the car. As soon as Donald pulled away, Brock hurried to where Carter and Aaron were comparing notes.
“Are you clocking out?” Carter asked.
“Yes. The kids are with Donald, and I told him I’d be over as soon as I could.”
“Why?” Aaron asked.
Brock thought that was one of the dumbest questions he’d ever heard but kept his reaction off his face. “The kids trust me for some reason, and they’re suspicious of Donald. So I want to make sure they’re okay.”
“Good. Tell Donald I’ll be home as soon as we button things up here and I can get the paperwork done on our ‘mother of the year.’”
Brock got in his car, radioed in, and headed to the station. Once there, he clocked out and left as soon as he could. He made a quick stop at his apartment over Victorian Antiques on Hanover Street, where he changed clothes. Then he headed out, walking the few blocks to Donald’s as fast as possible. He knocked, and Donald answered the door with Penny in his arms, tears streaking her face. She reached for him, so Brock took her and rubbed her back to try to soothe her as he stepped inside.
Abey sat on the sofa, staring at nothing, his little legs sticking out in front of him. He seemed so forlorn, but when he saw Brock, he perked up, slid to the floor, and walked over.
“Penny is fine, little protector,” Brock said, sitting on the sofa. Abey climbed up and sat next to him. “Where’s Alex?”
“He’s at the neighbors’ house, playing with a friend. I have to go over and get him, but I wanted to wait for you. I’ll be right back.” Donald left, and Brock gathered Abey to him with his free arm.
“Are you hungry? You can eat your crackers if you want.”
Abey looked down at the red box covered with circus animals and slowly opened it. He ate one of the animal-shaped crackers inside and then handed one up to Brock. He ate it and thanked Abey for sharing. Penny’s box was on the table, so he leaned over, got one, and handed it up to her. She took it but continued holding him tight, like she had no intention of letting him go.
Donald returned with hurricane Alex, who blew in amid a flurry of storytelling. “Mark said that he was the bestest at bike riding and I said unh-uh, and he said he was, but I beat him so I was right. But he….” His conversation cut off midsentence when he saw Brock and the kids.
“Alex, this is Penny and Abey. They’re going to be staying with us for a little while. Is that okay?”
Alex looked up at Donald and then at the two youngsters as though he were thinking. Then he turned back up to Donald. “Are they like me?”
“They’re like you were when you first came to live with me. They need my help. Is that okay?” Brock liked the way Donald always seemed to ask questions rather than forcing the kids to do what he wished. Granted, in the end, Donald got what he wanted, but he always made Alex part of the process.
“I still get my room, right?” Suspicion clouded Alex’s adorable face.
“Of course. They’re going to sleep in the room next to yours.”
“Okay.” Alex walked right over to Abey. “Do you want to play Legos? I got lots of ’em.”
Abey hesitated and then slid down off the sofa, handed Brock his animal crackers, and followed Alex to the corner of the room where his toy box was.
“Do you want to play too?” Brock asked Penny, but she seemed content to stay right where she was. She did lift her head, though, watching the boys.
“They’ve been through a lot in a very short time. All we can do is give comfort. If I knew them, I’d try to find out their routine and stick with it. But we’re going to have to wing it.” Donald approached slowly. “Are you hungry, sweet girl?”
Penny nodded slowly.
“Do you like macaroni and cheese?” Donald asked, and she nodded again.
“I’ll go make some. Do you want to help me?” Donald extended his hand, and Penny looked at it for a while. Brock didn’t think she was going to go for it, but then she took Donald’s hand, and Brock let her go into Donald’s arms. “There you are. Let’s go make some dinner.” He carried Penny into the kitchen, and Brock sat where he was, watching the boys play. Abey seemed content to spend time with Alex and wasn’t fussing as they scooted around the floor, chattering like they were old friends.
Brock pushed to his feet and walked to where Donald had gone. “I think they’re settled now, so I’ll get out of your hair.” There really wasn’t a need for him to be there any longer. Penny and Abey were safe, and Donald knew how to take care of them and would shepherd them to a more permanent living location.
“Stay for dinner. Once the kids are fed, I have some steaks marinating and there’s plenty.” Donald moved around his kitchen with practiced ease, even with Penny in his arms.
“I don’t want to impose, and—”
Donald interrupted him. “Nonsense. You did a great thing today, and the least I can do is feed you. Besides, what are you going to do? Go out and eat more fried stuff, or heat up a TV dinner and sit in front of the television?” Donald pulled out a plastic bag and set it on the counter. The marinating steaks looked dang good, and Brock’s belly let him know it. “And I could use your help. I don’t know when Carter will be home exactly, and I need to log in and see what I can find out about these two, as well as get them in the system, so you’d be doing me a favor.” Donald smiled, and Brock caved and returned to the living room.
It wasn’t long before Donald called the boys in, and Alex held Abey’s hand as they went to eat. Brock followed and took a seat at the table. “I can stay here if you have things to do,” Brock offered.
“Awesome.” Donald hurried out of the room.
“How are you, pretty Penny?” Brock asked. She was getting more of her dinner on her than in her so Brock gave her a hand, using the spoon to feed her. He got smiles for that and even a few giggles. Abey seemed contented enough to chat with his new friend Alex.
The kids were almost done eating when Donald returned. “I was able to get a court time for tomorrow.” Donald’s tone didn’t betray any of the seriousness of what he was saying, and the kids didn’t pay any attention to him. “We can talk more once they’re in bed.”
Brock nodded and returned to the “open the barn door” game duty as he fed Penny.
Carter got home as they finished, and the boys went back into the living room to play. Carter leaned over where Donald sat at the table and kissed him soundly. “I got home as fast as I could.” Carter shook Brock’s hand and sat down himself. “I have the information you’re going to need. The kids’ last name is Geraldini. I was able to search birth records. Their mother is Rhonda Geraldini, who is currently our guest and is likely to remain that way for a while. They might have different fathers, and Rhonda has never been married.”
“Thanks. I’ll check on them in the system in a few minutes.”
“Rhonda has a—”
“Brother…. Vincent,” Brock supplied, and Carter paused, looking at him in astonishment.
“Okay. You’ve either developed ESP or something is going on.” He turned to Donald, who shrugged.
“I used to date Vincent, but that was some time ago. He left town and moved to Shippensburg, but he’s back now and we have his address.” Brock grinned. “Sometimes small-town living is priceless. I gave him a warning for speeding this morning.”
“Okay. Let me call the station and see if we can get his phone number so we can contact him as a possible guardian.” Carter kissed Donald one more time and left the room.
Soon Brock heard him talking on the phone in the other room. “Is it always like this with what you do?” Brock asked.
“Sometimes. People don’t always neglect or hurt their children on a nine-to-five schedule.” Donald got out a plate. “The grill is out back. Would you mind going to light it? Or we’re never going to get some dinner.”
“Sure.” Brock found the grill on the patio in the backyard and easily got it lit. He closed the lid to let it heat and returned to where Donald had started the rest of dinner. Penny sat in her chair, eyes drooping, and Brock figured it was best to let her sleep. He checked on the boys and saw they were having a good time. Legos were strewn all over the living room floor, but the boys seemed to have moved on to playing cars and trucks.
“Alex, buddy, why don’t you pick up the Legos?”
Alex looked at him like he’d just said the dumbest thing ever. “They’re the track.” They zoomed the cars around the room, and it took them a few moments to realize the Legos didn’t make a very good track. Alex gathered them up, and they ran the cars and trucks along the floor, playing like they had known each other forever.
Carter finished what he needed and passed the address information to Donald, then took over kitchen duty while Donald grabbed his laptop and sat next to Brock on the sofa. It was like a balancing act between Carter and Donald. They instinctively seemed to know what the other needed to do and made a way for it to happen.
From where Brock sat, he could see Penny asleep in the high chair and watch Abey and Alex, so he kept vigil while the two of them did what they needed to do.
“Got it.”
“What?”
“A phone number.” Donald grabbed his phone and made a call. He left a message and then hung up. “At least I have the right number, according to the voice mail.”
Donald returned to the kitchen, and Brock watched the children and did his best to stay out of the way. “Don’t the kids need clothes?” Brock asked.
“I have some they can use for the time being, and tomorrow we’ll have to see about getting them some more.” Donald stayed in the kitchen, and Carter approached and sat next to Brock on the sofa.
“Their mother is being charged with multiple counts, and while she may get out on bail, it isn’t likely she’s going to be getting the kids back easily. Not with her history. But that will be up to the courts, of course. Donald and I will keep the kids here until they either get a more permanent placement or are awarded back to their mother.”
“Mama,” Penny suddenly cried from the kitchen, whimpering.
Brock got up, lifted her out of her chair, and carried her back to the living room. Abey stopped playing and stood next to Brock, protecting his sister like he had earlier in the day. Penny continued to cry on Brock’s shoulder.
“It’s all right, sweetheart,” Brock soothed. Her cries must have agitated Abey, so Carter picked him up and set him on his lap. Alex climbed on the sofa, and soon the children surrounded them. It was an amazing feeling to be needed like this.
Penny’s cries eventually died away, and the boys’ energy got the best of them so they returned to their play.
The phone rang in the other room and Donald answered it, then sent Carter out with the plate of steaks. Donald continued talking as he worked and then hung up.
“What is it?” Brock could see Donald’s agitation.
“That was the kids’ uncle. He said that he and his sister are estranged and that he hasn’t seen Abey since he was eighteen months old and has never met Penny. He was shocked to know he had a niece at all.”
“Is he going to come see the kids?”
“I know you and he have a history, but I need to do what’s best for the kids, and having a relationship with family members is the best thing. So I invited him over in an hour. At least he can meet the kids.” Donald paced slowly. “I was hoping for someone the kids knew so that this whole thing would be less of a shock.”
“I don’t think there’s any way around that now.” Brock turned to where all three kids were playing. “They deserve so much better than what happened to them.” He was having a hard time letting go of the image of opening that trunk and seeing those sweet children in there. He’d been warned, but nothing could have prepared him for that. Nothing at all. Brock turned away and reminded himself that no matter what he might have thought of their uncle, what was best for Penny and Abey was what mattered.
Donald called him in to eat. The dining area was open through an archway to the living room, so they could easily see the kids as they ate. None of them talked very much, their attention focused on the three kids. Eventually Penny came over and stood next to Brock’s chair. He lifted her onto his lap, and she settled in. She didn’t seem hungry, even though he offered her some of what he was eating.
“It looks like you made a real friend.”
“I have no idea why,” Brock told Carter.
“Because you helped them. They had to have been terrified being in that trunk, and you got them out and were nice to them.”
Abey approached the table, stood next to Donald, and whispered to him. Donald got up, took Abey by the hand, and led him out of the room. Then Donald returned and sat back down.
“Is he okay?” Brock figured he needed to be shown where the bathroom was, and Donald confirmed his suspicion.
“Yes. Just needed to go to the bathroom.” Donald kept an eye out, and sure enough, Abey returned and began playing with Alex once again.
The doorbell rang just as they finished dinner. Donald took his plate into the kitchen and then went to answer the door. Brock’s tension rose instantly, and when he saw Vincent following Donald into the living room, he wasn’t so sure how he felt about seeing him again. But the near-frantic expression on Vincent’s face pushed aside his own discomfort for the sake of the kids.
“I’m Donald, a social worker with child services, and this is my husband, Carter. And I believe you know Brock already. He and Carter work together.”
Vinny nodded, his attention going right to the little girl still on Brock’s lap. Her little thumb stuck in her mouth and she turned away, hiding her face against Brock’s chest. “I haven’t seen Abey in years, and this little girl….” The hitch in Vinny’s voice caught Brock’s attention.
“Then why don’t you come meet both of them.” Donald led the way to the living room and invited Vinny to sit down. Brock lifted Penny before standing, followed Vinny, and sat next to him. Penny hid once again, but Brock hoped she’d get over the initial shyness if he were patient.
“Were you the one who helped them?” Vinny asked.
“Yes. Do you know what happened?”
Vinny shook his head. “Just that they were taken away.”
“I thought it best to tell him face-to-face rather than on the phone.” Donald sat in one of the two leather recliners and motioned Abey to come over. “This is your Uncle Vincent. He’s your mother’s brother.”
“I met you when you were a baby.” Vinny smiled.
“I’m not a baby anymore. I’m a big boy.” Abey leaned back against Donald. All of this had to be a lot for these kids.
“I can see that.” Vinny kept glancing around the room, confusion reigning.
Abey stared at Vinny and then went back to join Alex where he was playing.
“I think he’s really confused. The kids saw the police take your sister and her friend away.”
Vinny didn’t move as though not sure what to do.
Donald stood, walked over to where Brock sat on the sofa, and lifted Penny into his arms. “I think it’s time for this one to have a bath and then go to sleep.” Donald headed upstairs, and Brock watched as Abey continued to play.
“Apparently a friend of your sister got a new car and they decided to take it out for a ride. It was a Corvette without a backseat, so your sister put the kids in the trunk.” When Vinny gasped, Brock nodded to confirm what he’d said. “Someone reported her, and I stopped the car and found the kids.”
“Where is Rhonda now?”
“She’s in jail, pending a hearing in the morning.”
“Can you get her some help?” Vinny asked as Carter joined them. “My sister has mental health problems. She sometimes hears voices and she’s supposed to be on medication, but she doesn’t always take it. But even when she does, her ability to make sound judgments is compromised.”
“I don’t know. At the moment it’s pretty much up to the courts and social workers. But what about her friend? I would hope that one of them would be able to think clearly.”
“Rhonda doesn’t pick her friends for clear thinking. She picks them based upon their ability to go along with her ideas and notions. So any of Rhonda’s friends aren’t likely to be the kinds of people to act as voices of reason. Is she being tested?”
“Yes. We’re running a number of tests to see if she was impaired in any way. She didn’t seem particularly lucid when I took her into custody.”
Vinny nodded and sat back, putting his hands over his eyes. “I was always afraid of something like this. I knew she’d had Abey, but I didn’t have a clue about Penny. I think I talked to her last about six months ago, and then maybe a year before that. She’d only call when she wanted something, and the last few times, I’ve had to tell her no. I wanted to help, I really did, but she bled my parents dry and ran them into debt. What should have been relatively comfortable retirement years turned into hard ones for them. She pestered and begged for whatever they had, and because Rhonda was their daughter, they gave her what they could.” Vinny seemed about ready to fall apart, which was eye-opening for Brock. Vinny took a deep breath and blinked. “At least the kids are safe.” He released his breath. “So what happens now?”
The trepidation in Vinny’s voice touched Brock. He really cared about these kids and that said something about him. Brock wanted to think of Vinny as being selfish and uncaring. That made the earlier rejection easier to handle. But he wasn’t, and Brock was relieved for Abey and Penny’s sake, but it left him wondering what he’d done wrong.
Fallow by Jordan L Hawk
Chapter 1
Widdershins always knows its own.
Welcome home.
The wind strengthened from over the ocean, coiling around the slender figure standing atop a craggy rock. She might have been some barbaric sea goddess, dressed in nothing but golden jewelry and a skirt of knotted seaweed. Dark swirls marked her pearlescent skin like war paint, and the stinging tendrils of her hair writhed as the autumnal breeze grew into a gale.
I kept a grip on my hat to prevent it from flying off. Even though I stood well back from the water in an attempt to preserve my suit, dampness flecked my exposed skin. I licked my lips and tasted salt.
The wind died away, just as quickly as it had arisen. My twin sister let her arms fall and turned to me, mouth splitting into a grin and revealing rows of shark’s teeth. “I told you I’ve been practicing.”
I crossed the strand to her, my shoes sinking into the moist sand. “Well done,” I said as she climbed down from the rock. “You’re as good as I am at drawing power from the maelstrom now.” Which was only natural, I supposed, given our relationship to the magical vortex lying beneath Widdershins.
“Better,” she countered. Her tentacle hair flicked out in a sudden blur and sent my hat flying from my head.
“Persephone!” I snatched it up, brushing sand off the brim. “This is serious. Not a time for-for childish pranks. We’re preparing for war, in case you’ve forgotten.”
Two months ago, the Fideles cult had used the power of the maelstrom to send a sorcerous beacon through the veil separating our world and the Outside. They meant to summon back the ancient masters who had ruled the earth thousands of years ago, who had created the ketoi and the umbrae, and twisted the arcane lines to form the maelstrom.
We’d failed to stop them from sending the signal and beginning what they called the Restoration. Eventually the inhuman masters would return, and if we failed a second time…
It didn’t bear contemplating. The ketoi and umbrae would either be killed or enslaved, and I doubted humanity would fare much better.
“It doesn’t mean we can never laugh again,” Griffin said as he approached, the light of his lantern gleaming off Persephone’s sleek skin.
I folded my arms over my chest. “I didn’t say that,” I replied, trying to conceal my annoyance. Judging from the look on his face, I failed.
Griffin didn’t understand. How could he? He didn’t know the truth about the maelstrom.
About me.
Oh, he thought he did. He’d seen…something…during our battle against the Fideles cult in July. And of course he already knew about my ketoi blood.
But I couldn’t tell him worst of it, the thing I’d realized when I briefly touched the consciousness of the maelstrom. The vortex beneath Widdershins wasn’t just a feature of the landscape, like a river or mountain. It was magic, and alive in a way I didn’t entirely understand. It wanted things and acted to get them.
Chiefly, it wanted not to be used by the masters upon their return. And Persephone and I were the keys to its plan, its attempt to touch and understand the world, to give it hands and eyes and hearts to work its will.
In the end, my sister and I were the ones responsible for preventing the return of the masters. The sheer weight of our obligation threatened to overwhelm me at times. I’d spent every waking moment searching for any way to halt the Restoration and the return of the masters.
“Did you see?” Persephone asked Griffin.
“I did.” He meant it literally—Griffin had returned from our Alaskan expedition with shadowsight, the ability to perceive magic. “You burned like a candle when you pulled on the maelstrom. Just as your brother does.”
Persephone grinned happily. I tightened my arms across my chest and hunched my shoulders forward slightly. I was used to being the only one Griffin described in such a way, and I wasn’t certain I cared to share it, even with my sister.
He looked handsome tonight—well, he always did, but his new suit from Dryden & Sons complimented his figure nicely. The rust-colored vest in particular brought out the brown threads in his green eyes and the russet in his hair.
“What did the spell look like?” Persephone asked. She crouched on the sand, the fins on her arms jutting out awkwardly.
Griffin’s eyes went slightly unfocused as he considered. “The glare from the arcane line running under the beach can make it hard to see,” he said. “But it was as though you took a needle and thread, and punched them through the fabric of the world. Then you drew the cloth together, and the wind came.”
Persephone frowned, an expression far less ferocious than her smile. “We don’t sew cloth beneath the sea,” she reminded him.
“Of course.” He grimaced. “It wasn’t the most accurate description anyway. Think of it as weaving a net, then, to catch the wind.”
I drew out my pocket watch and was startled at the time. “We should leave. I have work in the morning, after all.”
Persephone perked up slightly. “You will see Maggie there?”
“Of course. Miss Parkhurst is my secretary.” They’d met during the awfulness in July and struck up something of a friendship.
Persephone detached a pouch at her waist. “Will you take this to her?” she asked, passing it to me without opening it.
Even through the knotted seaweed, I could sense its faint call. “A summoning stone?” I asked blankly. “What on earth for? I can’t imagine any reason Miss Parkhurst would need to summon ketoi—”
“One never knows,” Griffin interrupted. “Before we go, may I ask the two of you to try something?”
“Yes!” Persephone said hastily, rising to her feet.
I looked pointedly at my watch again, but they both ignored me. Griffin gestured in the direction of the rock, where Persephone had cast her spell. “Have you tried working a spell in tandem?”
“No,” I replied slowly. “Why?”
“What would happen? Would it be more powerful, or…?”
I hadn’t the slightest idea. My damnable cousins, Theo and Fiona Endicott, had performed sorcery together to raise a tidal wave in an attempt to destroy Widdershins, so I knew it was at least theoretically possible.
“Let’s try!” Persephone said eagerly.
“All right, but I’m not climbing on that boulder,” I said. “I haven’t the shoes for it.”
She looked disappointed, but followed me a bit further up the beach. The slow pulse of magic through the veins of the earth throbbed against the soles of my feet. “Here. We’re still on the arcane line, so it will be easy for us to draw on the maelstrom.”
“What should we do?”
I had only the vaguest idea. “Cast the spell at the same time, I suppose.”
“Would touching help?” Griffin asked. He stood a short distance back. He’d once touched me while I pulled arcane power from the lines, an experience neither of us wanted to repeat. Its effects hadn’t been permanent, but it had hurt him at the time, bursting capillaries in his eyes and sending him reeling into unconsciousness.
Human bodies weren’t meant to touch such power directly. But the maelstrom had spent years changing probabilities, nudging the odds this way and that, until Persephone and I were born. Sorcerers of ketoi blood, who could channel the magic directly without harm.
Persephone took my hand. Her skin was cool and slick against mine, the points of her claws pressing lightly as our fingers twined together.
“We’ll summon the wind again,” I said. “On three.”
She nodded, her expression determined. “One,” she said.
I took a deep breath, centering myself. The world seemed to still around me.
“Two.”
My awareness of the power beneath our feet sharpened.
“Three.”
I reached for the magic, shaping it with my will. Arcane energy surged through our bodies, and the scars on my right arm burned. I felt my sister beside me, her breathing and heartbeat matching mine.
We touched the world, and the world responded.
Wind roared in from the open ocean, a wall of force that knocked me to the ground. An instant later, the ocean answered the sky with a roar of its own. A massive wave rushed into the cove, bursting over the strand and nearly reaching the cliff. It surged around me, the greedy, cold water seeking to drag me into the sea.
I let out a surprised shout, clawing at sand that washed away beneath my fingers as quickly as I could grasp it. Then the wave receded, leaving me soaked to the bone and covered in seaweed, my shoes filled with sand.
I rose to my feet and wiped ineffectually at my suit. My hat was gone, probably blown all the way to Boston on the wind we’d summoned. A fish flopped on the beach beside me. Persephone picked it up and tossed it back into the surf.
“Well,” I said, turning to Griffin. “That was…oh.”
He stood dripping wet from head to toe, his new suit soaked in seawater. A strand of seaweed clung to his hair, and his hat had joined mine somewhere a few counties over.
“Yes,” he said, plucking sadly at his ruined vest. “It certainly was.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said yet again as Griffin unlocked the door to our home.
Our journey from the beach had been uncomfortable. It was impossible to remove all the sand from our shoes and clothes. Salt stiffened our suits and crusted our skin. Once back in Widdershins proper, we’d attempted to hire a cab, but the driver had taken one look at our sodden state and left us on the curb. For the first time, I found myself regretting the destruction of Griffin’s motor car.
“Stop apologizing,” Griffin said, holding the door open for me. Once inside, he locked it again, then began to peel off his coat. “It isn’t as though you knew what would happen.”
“What did happen?” I asked. “From your point of view, I mean.”
Griffin bit his lip, his eyes going thoughtful. “It isn’t easy to describe. Your spells…resonated? Overlay each other? I wonder if perhaps the spells the Endicotts and other sorcerers do together are handled in a different fashion. Each one contributing a piece to a more complex whole.”
That made sense. “Judging from what I’ve read in the Arcanorum and other magical texts, you’re probably right.”
“Could you and Persephone learn to perform spells like that?”
“Of course,” I said, more sharply than I intended.
“I don’t mean to cast aspersions on your abilities, my dear.” Griffin offered me a smile as he unbuttoned his salt-stained vest. “But from what little I know of the matter, you and Persephone aren’t quite the same as other sorcerers. You learn spells, yes, but they’re something of a crutch that you can discard after a while. When was the last time you had to draw a sigil to summon wind, or chant to make frost appear?”
“It’s only a matter of will for everyone,” I insisted. Griffin didn’t look as if he believed me.
I didn’t believe myself. But the conversation was getting too close to things I didn’t want to discuss with anyone except Persephone.
It wasn’t that I wished to keep secrets from the man I called husband. But if he knew the terrible truth I’d learned in July, when I touched the maelstrom and perceived the world as it did…
He’d be furious, and rightfully so.
“I am sorry about the suit,” I said, hoping to distract him. “It was brand new, and it looked so fine on you.”
By unspoken consent, we’d remained in the hallway to remove our ruined clothing. No sense scattering sand and dripping water through the house. He peeled off his trousers and stood clad only in his drawers. His eyes followed my movements as I did the same. “You appreciated how it looked, did you?” he asked, and I recognized the low note in his voice.
“Very much so.” I stepped closer, and he rested his hands on my hips, just above the edge of my drawers. His fingers felt chilled against my skin.
A slow smile curled his lips. “In that case, it’s a shame to have lost it so soon.” His grip on me tightened. “You’ll have to make it up to me, I think.”
“However shall I do that?” I murmured.
“You can start on your knees.”
Widdershins always knows its own.
Welcome home.
The wind strengthened from over the ocean, coiling around the slender figure standing atop a craggy rock. She might have been some barbaric sea goddess, dressed in nothing but golden jewelry and a skirt of knotted seaweed. Dark swirls marked her pearlescent skin like war paint, and the stinging tendrils of her hair writhed as the autumnal breeze grew into a gale.
I kept a grip on my hat to prevent it from flying off. Even though I stood well back from the water in an attempt to preserve my suit, dampness flecked my exposed skin. I licked my lips and tasted salt.
The wind died away, just as quickly as it had arisen. My twin sister let her arms fall and turned to me, mouth splitting into a grin and revealing rows of shark’s teeth. “I told you I’ve been practicing.”
I crossed the strand to her, my shoes sinking into the moist sand. “Well done,” I said as she climbed down from the rock. “You’re as good as I am at drawing power from the maelstrom now.” Which was only natural, I supposed, given our relationship to the magical vortex lying beneath Widdershins.
“Better,” she countered. Her tentacle hair flicked out in a sudden blur and sent my hat flying from my head.
“Persephone!” I snatched it up, brushing sand off the brim. “This is serious. Not a time for-for childish pranks. We’re preparing for war, in case you’ve forgotten.”
Two months ago, the Fideles cult had used the power of the maelstrom to send a sorcerous beacon through the veil separating our world and the Outside. They meant to summon back the ancient masters who had ruled the earth thousands of years ago, who had created the ketoi and the umbrae, and twisted the arcane lines to form the maelstrom.
We’d failed to stop them from sending the signal and beginning what they called the Restoration. Eventually the inhuman masters would return, and if we failed a second time…
It didn’t bear contemplating. The ketoi and umbrae would either be killed or enslaved, and I doubted humanity would fare much better.
“It doesn’t mean we can never laugh again,” Griffin said as he approached, the light of his lantern gleaming off Persephone’s sleek skin.
I folded my arms over my chest. “I didn’t say that,” I replied, trying to conceal my annoyance. Judging from the look on his face, I failed.
Griffin didn’t understand. How could he? He didn’t know the truth about the maelstrom.
About me.
Oh, he thought he did. He’d seen…something…during our battle against the Fideles cult in July. And of course he already knew about my ketoi blood.
But I couldn’t tell him worst of it, the thing I’d realized when I briefly touched the consciousness of the maelstrom. The vortex beneath Widdershins wasn’t just a feature of the landscape, like a river or mountain. It was magic, and alive in a way I didn’t entirely understand. It wanted things and acted to get them.
Chiefly, it wanted not to be used by the masters upon their return. And Persephone and I were the keys to its plan, its attempt to touch and understand the world, to give it hands and eyes and hearts to work its will.
In the end, my sister and I were the ones responsible for preventing the return of the masters. The sheer weight of our obligation threatened to overwhelm me at times. I’d spent every waking moment searching for any way to halt the Restoration and the return of the masters.
“Did you see?” Persephone asked Griffin.
“I did.” He meant it literally—Griffin had returned from our Alaskan expedition with shadowsight, the ability to perceive magic. “You burned like a candle when you pulled on the maelstrom. Just as your brother does.”
Persephone grinned happily. I tightened my arms across my chest and hunched my shoulders forward slightly. I was used to being the only one Griffin described in such a way, and I wasn’t certain I cared to share it, even with my sister.
He looked handsome tonight—well, he always did, but his new suit from Dryden & Sons complimented his figure nicely. The rust-colored vest in particular brought out the brown threads in his green eyes and the russet in his hair.
“What did the spell look like?” Persephone asked. She crouched on the sand, the fins on her arms jutting out awkwardly.
Griffin’s eyes went slightly unfocused as he considered. “The glare from the arcane line running under the beach can make it hard to see,” he said. “But it was as though you took a needle and thread, and punched them through the fabric of the world. Then you drew the cloth together, and the wind came.”
Persephone frowned, an expression far less ferocious than her smile. “We don’t sew cloth beneath the sea,” she reminded him.
“Of course.” He grimaced. “It wasn’t the most accurate description anyway. Think of it as weaving a net, then, to catch the wind.”
I drew out my pocket watch and was startled at the time. “We should leave. I have work in the morning, after all.”
Persephone perked up slightly. “You will see Maggie there?”
“Of course. Miss Parkhurst is my secretary.” They’d met during the awfulness in July and struck up something of a friendship.
Persephone detached a pouch at her waist. “Will you take this to her?” she asked, passing it to me without opening it.
Even through the knotted seaweed, I could sense its faint call. “A summoning stone?” I asked blankly. “What on earth for? I can’t imagine any reason Miss Parkhurst would need to summon ketoi—”
“One never knows,” Griffin interrupted. “Before we go, may I ask the two of you to try something?”
“Yes!” Persephone said hastily, rising to her feet.
I looked pointedly at my watch again, but they both ignored me. Griffin gestured in the direction of the rock, where Persephone had cast her spell. “Have you tried working a spell in tandem?”
“No,” I replied slowly. “Why?”
“What would happen? Would it be more powerful, or…?”
I hadn’t the slightest idea. My damnable cousins, Theo and Fiona Endicott, had performed sorcery together to raise a tidal wave in an attempt to destroy Widdershins, so I knew it was at least theoretically possible.
“Let’s try!” Persephone said eagerly.
“All right, but I’m not climbing on that boulder,” I said. “I haven’t the shoes for it.”
She looked disappointed, but followed me a bit further up the beach. The slow pulse of magic through the veins of the earth throbbed against the soles of my feet. “Here. We’re still on the arcane line, so it will be easy for us to draw on the maelstrom.”
“What should we do?”
I had only the vaguest idea. “Cast the spell at the same time, I suppose.”
“Would touching help?” Griffin asked. He stood a short distance back. He’d once touched me while I pulled arcane power from the lines, an experience neither of us wanted to repeat. Its effects hadn’t been permanent, but it had hurt him at the time, bursting capillaries in his eyes and sending him reeling into unconsciousness.
Human bodies weren’t meant to touch such power directly. But the maelstrom had spent years changing probabilities, nudging the odds this way and that, until Persephone and I were born. Sorcerers of ketoi blood, who could channel the magic directly without harm.
Persephone took my hand. Her skin was cool and slick against mine, the points of her claws pressing lightly as our fingers twined together.
“We’ll summon the wind again,” I said. “On three.”
She nodded, her expression determined. “One,” she said.
I took a deep breath, centering myself. The world seemed to still around me.
“Two.”
My awareness of the power beneath our feet sharpened.
“Three.”
I reached for the magic, shaping it with my will. Arcane energy surged through our bodies, and the scars on my right arm burned. I felt my sister beside me, her breathing and heartbeat matching mine.
We touched the world, and the world responded.
Wind roared in from the open ocean, a wall of force that knocked me to the ground. An instant later, the ocean answered the sky with a roar of its own. A massive wave rushed into the cove, bursting over the strand and nearly reaching the cliff. It surged around me, the greedy, cold water seeking to drag me into the sea.
I let out a surprised shout, clawing at sand that washed away beneath my fingers as quickly as I could grasp it. Then the wave receded, leaving me soaked to the bone and covered in seaweed, my shoes filled with sand.
I rose to my feet and wiped ineffectually at my suit. My hat was gone, probably blown all the way to Boston on the wind we’d summoned. A fish flopped on the beach beside me. Persephone picked it up and tossed it back into the surf.
“Well,” I said, turning to Griffin. “That was…oh.”
He stood dripping wet from head to toe, his new suit soaked in seawater. A strand of seaweed clung to his hair, and his hat had joined mine somewhere a few counties over.
“Yes,” he said, plucking sadly at his ruined vest. “It certainly was.”
~ * ~
“I’m so sorry,” I said yet again as Griffin unlocked the door to our home.
Our journey from the beach had been uncomfortable. It was impossible to remove all the sand from our shoes and clothes. Salt stiffened our suits and crusted our skin. Once back in Widdershins proper, we’d attempted to hire a cab, but the driver had taken one look at our sodden state and left us on the curb. For the first time, I found myself regretting the destruction of Griffin’s motor car.
“Stop apologizing,” Griffin said, holding the door open for me. Once inside, he locked it again, then began to peel off his coat. “It isn’t as though you knew what would happen.”
“What did happen?” I asked. “From your point of view, I mean.”
Griffin bit his lip, his eyes going thoughtful. “It isn’t easy to describe. Your spells…resonated? Overlay each other? I wonder if perhaps the spells the Endicotts and other sorcerers do together are handled in a different fashion. Each one contributing a piece to a more complex whole.”
That made sense. “Judging from what I’ve read in the Arcanorum and other magical texts, you’re probably right.”
“Could you and Persephone learn to perform spells like that?”
“Of course,” I said, more sharply than I intended.
“I don’t mean to cast aspersions on your abilities, my dear.” Griffin offered me a smile as he unbuttoned his salt-stained vest. “But from what little I know of the matter, you and Persephone aren’t quite the same as other sorcerers. You learn spells, yes, but they’re something of a crutch that you can discard after a while. When was the last time you had to draw a sigil to summon wind, or chant to make frost appear?”
“It’s only a matter of will for everyone,” I insisted. Griffin didn’t look as if he believed me.
I didn’t believe myself. But the conversation was getting too close to things I didn’t want to discuss with anyone except Persephone.
It wasn’t that I wished to keep secrets from the man I called husband. But if he knew the terrible truth I’d learned in July, when I touched the maelstrom and perceived the world as it did…
He’d be furious, and rightfully so.
“I am sorry about the suit,” I said, hoping to distract him. “It was brand new, and it looked so fine on you.”
By unspoken consent, we’d remained in the hallway to remove our ruined clothing. No sense scattering sand and dripping water through the house. He peeled off his trousers and stood clad only in his drawers. His eyes followed my movements as I did the same. “You appreciated how it looked, did you?” he asked, and I recognized the low note in his voice.
“Very much so.” I stepped closer, and he rested his hands on my hips, just above the edge of my drawers. His fingers felt chilled against my skin.
A slow smile curled his lips. “In that case, it’s a shame to have lost it so soon.” His grip on me tightened. “You’ll have to make it up to me, I think.”
“However shall I do that?” I murmured.
“You can start on your knees.”
Writing love stories with a happy ever after – cowboys, heroes, family, hockey, single dads, bodyguards
USA Today bestselling author RJ Scott has written over one hundred romance books. Emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, single dads, hockey players, millionaires, princes, bodyguards, Navy SEALs, soldiers, doctors, paramedics, firefighters, cops, and the men who get mixed up in their lives, always with a happy ever after.
She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing. The last time she had a week’s break from writing, she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a box of chocolates she couldn’t defeat.
K. Evan Coles is a mother and tech pirate by day and a writer by night. She is a dreamer who, with a little hard work and a lot of good coffee, coaxes words out of her head and onto paper.
K. lives in the northeast United States, where she complains bitterly about the winters, but truly loves the region and its diverse, tenacious and deceptively compassionate people. You’ll usually find K. nerding out over books, movies and television with friends and family. She’s especially proud to be raising her son as part of a new generation of unabashed geeks.
K.’s books explore LGBTQ+ romance in contemporary settings.
Brigham Vaughn
Brigham Vaughn is on the adventure of a lifetime as a full-time writer. She devours books at an alarming rate and hasn’t let her short arms and long torso stop her from doing yoga. She makes a killer key lime pie, hates green peppers, and loves wine tasting tours. A collector of vintage Nancy Drew books and green glassware, she enjoys poking around in antique shops and refinishing thrift store furniture. An avid photographer, she dreams of traveling the world and she can’t wait to discover everything else life has to offer her.Lacey lives in New Mexico with her four critters. She’s a Jill-of-all-trades by day, but loves writing in her spare time. She dabbles in a variety of pairings, but jumped feet-first into the deep end of omegaverse the first time she read it. She loves the play on social expectations and the different ways to express romance.
Andrew Grey is the author of over 100 works of Contemporary Gay Romantic fiction. After twenty-seven years in corporate America, he has now settled down in Central Pennsylvania with his husband, Dominic, and his laptop. An interesting ménage. Andrew grew up in western Michigan with a father who loved to tell stories and a mother who loved to read them. Since then he has lived throughout the country and traveled throughout the world.
He is a recipient of the RWA Centennial Award, has a master’s degree from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, and now writes full-time. Andrew’s hobbies include collecting antiques, gardening, and leaving his dirty dishes anywhere but in the sink (particularly when writing). He considers himself blessed with an accepting family, fantastic friends, and the world’s most supportive and loving partner. Andrew currently lives in beautiful, historic Carlisle, Pennsylvania.
Jordan L. Hawk is a trans author from North Carolina. Childhood tales of mountain ghosts and mysterious creatures gave him a life-long love of things that go bump in the night. When he isn’t writing, he brews his own beer and tries to keep the cats from destroying the house. His best-selling Whyborne & Griffin series (beginning with Widdershins) can be found in print, ebook, and audiobook.
If you want to contact Jordan, just click on the links below or send an email.
Brigham Vaughn
EMAIL: brighamvaughn@gmail.com
Andrew Grey
WEBSITE / NEWSLETTER / KOBO
iTUNES / AUDIBLE / GOOGLE PLAY
TIKTOK / DREAMSPINNER / B&N
EMAIL: andrewgrey@comcast.net
Jordan L Hawk
The Soldier and the Bodyguard by RJ Scott
Calm by K Evan Coles & Brigham Vaughn
KOBO / WEBSITE / GOODREADS TBR
Candy Kisses for the Omega by Lacey Daize
Fire and Hail by Andrew Grey
KOBO / iTUNES / iTUNES AUDIO
Fallow by Jordan L Hawk
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