Games of the Heart

Epilogue All’s Well

Seven years later…

Fin slid his hand up the skin of Reesee’s side, in over her ribs, his eyes watching his hand’s movements.

“Baby,” she whispered in her soft voice and he looked to her face.

Then he couldn’t stop himself. He very rarely could but when they were like this, never.

He dropped his head and took her mouth.

She whimpered down his throat.

His body was pressed to her side. He rolled over her and his hand slid up to cup her breast, his thumb sliding over the hard peak.

She drew in a sharp breath, sucking his tongue deeper into his mouth.

God, she was hot. Hot and sweet, his Reesee.

Fuck, he loved her.

He broke the kiss and slid his lips down her cheek, her jaw to her neck.

“Like this bikini,” he muttered against her skin.

“I’m bein’ bad,” she whispered.

Yeah she was.

Thank God.

His thumb slid back over her nipple and she squirmed under him.

“How’s that?” He was still murmuring against her skin, his lips moving, his tongue darting out to taste.

“I bought this bikini for our honeymoon. You aren’t supposed to see it yet.”

He grinned against her neck.

He was about to hook his thumb in the material to tug it down when her hands that were moving over his back suddenly stopped moving and her arms wrapped tight around him.

Her sweet, soft voice was thick when she whispered, “I’m marrying the first boy I ever loved tomorrow.”

His head came up and he looked down at her, her long, dark blonde hair spread across the blanket, her gentle, dark brown eyes warm on him.

“The only boy you ever loved,” he corrected and her lips quirked in her cute smile.

Then they stopped quirking and she looked deep in his eyes, her hand gliding along his back, in, up his chest so it could cup his jaw.

“The only boy I ever loved,” she said quietly.

His eyes moved over her beautiful face.

Then he whispered, “Yeah.”

Then he dropped his head and kissed her on a blanket by the side of the creek at the watering hole, one of their horses, Dreamweaver chewing at the grass ten feet away, the hot, muggy Indiana sun beating down on their bodies.

A perfect day. Nothing could be more perfect. Nothing.

Until tomorrow.

Clarisse rode in front of Fin on Dreamweaver’s back, her mind on the fact she was late and also on the fact she didn’t give a flip.

All day at the watering hole with a picnic basket and Fin.

Nope, she didn’t give a flip.

She knew she was supposed to be doing other stuff. She was getting married tomorrow.

She also didn’t give a flip about that either. Fin asked her to spend the day with him and tomorrow would be crazed, she knew it. It was their day but she’d been to a lot of weddings. It might be their day but they wouldn’t be spending a lot of it together.

No way she was saying no.

Fin trotted the horse into the barn then stopped her close to her stall and threw a leg over, dismounting. Then his hands came to her hips and he pulled her off but he did this standing close so her body skimmed his the whole way down.

That was Fin. Three years ago, when she opened the floodgates, he took every opportunity to cop a feel.

She didn’t give a flip about that either.

When her feet were on the ground, instead of moving away, his arms circled her.

She put her hands on his chest and tipped her head back to look at him.

“I gotta get goin’, baby,” she said softly. “Get to Dad and Dusty’s, take a shower. The girls will be around in an hour and the guys are descending here soon. We have to hurry, put up Dream and get a move on.”

“Need you to come in the house,” he told her.

“Fin, we don’t have time.”

His arms gave her a squeeze.

“We’re makin’ time, beautiful. I need you to come in the house.”

She suddenly started thinking about all the things she needed to think about. Fin’s bachelor party tonight and how she hoped he didn’t get blitzed and his idiot friends didn’t do anything stupid. Her girls were coming over and the beauty technicians showing up to do manicures, pedicures, facials and shoulder massages. She had to rinse out her bikini so it could air dry overnight and she could pack it with her other stuff tomorrow.

“Fin –”

“Reesee, honey,” another arm squeeze, “ten minutes.”

She studied him and saw something in his face. She didn’t know what. But whatever it was, it made her nod.

“I’ll deal with Dream when you take off,” he muttered, grabbed Dream’s reins and led her to the stall where he clipped her to the long leather strap there.

Then Fin took Clarisse’s hand, led her into the house and up the stairs.

The house, now, was just Fin’s.

And, tomorrow, Clarisse’s.

Kirb was gone. Like Clarisse and No, he’d gone to college. He studied agriculture, graduated and now he worked the land with Fin but he and his girlfriend lived in an apartment in town, saving to buy a house in one of the developments close by.

Fin’s Mom was gone too but she’d only moved out three months ago. She did this so Fin and Clarisse could have the house just to themselves starting out. And she was able to because she’d been working the last six years, starting out as Tanner Layne’s receptionist part-time. Then Mimi needed her back so she worked part-time for Mr. Layne and part-time for Mimi. Then Mimi really needed her at the front and helping with baking so she went full-time for Mimi which was where she stayed. She didn’t make a mint but when her Dad died last year, he left her a little nest egg and Kirb and Fin gave her more. She wasn’t living the highlife, she had a small, one-bedroom apartment that was close enough she could walk to the Coffee House and it was cute. So she wasn’t complaining.

When Fin guided her to the top of the stairs, he turned right toward where the bathroom was and where his Mom and Dad’s room used to be. Then he went to the closed door to the bedroom but she smelled it.

Fresh paint.

Her brows drew together and Fin opened the door, pulled her through and then stopped them.

She stared.

“Holy cow,” she whispered.

She’d said (to everyone) one of the first things she was going to do after she moved into the farmhouse was make their bedroom hers and Fin’s own. And she’d spent some time researching what she wanted to do with it.

And this was it. Almost exactly like the magazine picture she showed to anyone who would look.

Dark teal-gray walls. White ceiling. Heavy but elegant, dark wood furniture including a queen-size bed. Glass-bottomed, tall lamps on each nightstand with a pull string that had a crystal dangling at the bottom of the chain. A big, plush, dark gray area rug under the bed.

On one of the dressers, one of Dusty’s vases, a big one. This one not her usual colors or shapes. It was obviously made special, a matte gray outside, the inside of the curving lip, a shiny teal. It was gorgeous.

On the walls black-framed, cream matted jumble frames with a variety of black and white photos of Fin, Clarisse or Fin and Clarisse throughout the entire seven years they were together.

And there was a big frame made of curly-edged mirror holding Clarisse’s favorite picture of her and Fin.

Fin was leaning against the side of the barn, his ever-present, ratty baseball cap on his head, a white t-shirt covering his chest, faded jeans on his legs, workmen’s boots on his feet, beat up leather workmen’s gloves on his hands. Clarisse was leaning against Fin wearing short-shorts, a cute tee and even cuter flat sandals. One of his arms was wound around her waist, the other hand dangling. One of her arms, hidden from view, was wrapped around his waist, her other hand on his abs. She was in profile, Fin full face, his head was back, pressed against the barn, her chin was dipped down. Both of them were laughing.

Dusty took that picture. Clarisse adored it.

“Wedding present,” Fin muttered and she looked up at him. “From your Mom.”

She slowly closed her eyes then opened them and looked back around the room.

She’d shown her Mom that picture in the magazine.

And there it was. Her Mom got Fin to take her to the watering hole so she’d be occupied all day so she could give this to Clarisse.

Whatever happened to her Mom seven years ago to shake her up, it took hold. She was remarried to an attorney but she still worked, now as a paralegal for a different firm to her husband. She even went to night school to learn as she held down her day job. They lived in a cushy apartment in downtown Indy and had buckets of money. Her Mom again had great clothes and great shoes but she also worked sixty hour weeks and still somehow managed to have a great marriage to a guy who wasn’t a slimeball but actually pretty cool.

And she also managed to be a good Mom.

At first, it freaked Clarisse out.

She got used to it.

And No told her time again he told her so.

Whatever.

It worked. Mom and her husband Jordy were even friends with Dad and Dusty. They didn’t go out to dinner together or anything but they exchanged birthday cards, Christmas cards and talked and laughed together whenever there was some family gig going on, like Thanksgiving, Christmas dinner and Fourth of July barbeques. Jordy didn’t have kids but he was all about family and since Dad, Dusty and Mom were too, it worked.

Seven years ago, Clarisse would have said no way.

Now, she was used to it.

“Jordy too, obviously,” Fin went on and she looked back at him. “Your Mom makes some cake but this furniture…” he trailed off but she could see it.

It was not inexpensive. It was not even middle-of-the-line.

It was the best money could buy.

They’d have it a lifetime.

Clarisse smiled back at the room.

“That’s not it, honey,” Fin murmured, she looked to him again but he was already looking toward the door.

Then, his hand still in hers, he led her through it and down the hall to the other end. He went to the closed door of his old bedroom, opened it and pulled her through.

She stopped dead, what hit her eyes penetrated and they filled with tears.

The wood floors had colorful throw rugs strewn all over them. In the corner was the big, fluffy, faded flower print armchair that used to be in Fin’s Mom and Dad’s room that Clarisse said was the only thing in that room she would keep. A loose, colorful afghan she knew Fin’s Gram crocheted was thrown over it. There was a small, tassel-sided, button-topped footstool in front of it in covered in muted rose velvet. There was a big, deep, wide white desk that had a huge, high back that went up nearly to the ceiling that was all drawers, nooks, crannies and shelves and she saw they already had her knickknacks, notebooks and more frames of photos of family, Fin and friends. There was a brand new, super wide monitor, all-in-one computer sitting on the desk with her bright colored pencil holder, envelope stand and notepaper stacks arranged around it. Even her hand lotion she had on her desk at home was there. In front was a kickass swivel chair that was white leather and chrome. It was modern but somehow it totally went with the countrified rest. There were bookshelves with her books and CDs in them against the walls, her stereo set up in one, her speakers set around the room. And the windows were hung with wispy, sheer, muted rose curtains that bunched on the floor and looked amazing against the white woodwork and the newly painted walls that were a deep, warm violet.

And last, in frames all around on the walls, were big pieces of Dusty’s swirly, pastel pencil doodles. Random patterns, beautiful colors, flowy designs. They were gorgeous.

“This is from me,” Fin said, her body started and her head whipped to him.

Dusty and her Dad, yes.

Fin…

Oh my God.

He tugged on her hand to pull her closer and when he got her close, his other hand came to span her hip and he whispered, “This is where you chase your dreams, honey.”

The tears filling her eyes tumbled over.

“Baby.”

He grinned and said, “Happy wedding.”

She grinned back, the wet still coming and he let loose her hand and hip so both his hands could cup her jaws and his thumbs slid through.

“You’re not supposed to cry,” he whispered, watching his thumbs move.

“Fin, whenever you do something sweet, I cry. You can’t be surprised. It’s happened enough.”

His eyes moved from his thumbs to her and he smiled.

“Right,” he muttered.

“You got something wrong though,” she told him and his thumbs stopped moving.

“What?” he asked.

“See,” she started, “I used to sit out on my Dad’s balcony with my Dad, look at your farm and think that when I grew up and got married, I wanted to have a bedroom just like my Dad’s.”

“I’ll build you a balcony,” Fin said instantly and she closed her eyes.

God, God, she loved him.

Then she opened them and whispered, “I wasn’t done yet, baby.”

Fin said nothing.

Clarisse did.

“When I was on Dad’s balcony, I would sit there thinking that but I’d also sit there hoping to catch sight of you. And I might have wanted a bedroom like Dad’s when I got married. But more, I wanted to marry a boy who looked just like you.”

His eyes warmed (or got warmer) and he grinned again.

Then he stated, “Well, you managed that.”

She grinned back then it faded and she whispered, “What I’m saying is, I already caught my dream.”

She felt Fin’s fingers tense against her jaw and his head dipped so his face was super close.

Then he ordered, “Make up new ones.”

Then he pulled her to him and kissed her hard, wet and for a very, very long time.

She was late for her own party.

And she didn’t give a flip.

On Clarisse’s drive home…

She smiled at the road in front of her.

Fin’s wedding present was great.

But he’d have to wait for his for when they got home from their honeymoon.

She’d already picked her out but she wasn’t yet weaned. She would be in a week.

A golden retriever puppy.

The next morning…early…

“Ride it,” Mike growled his order in my ear.

“Baby, I want you,” I whispered, my neck twisted, forehead pressed into his neck.

“You know you gotta earn it, Angel.”

God, I loved it when he was bossy and dirty and hot.

Still, I wanted him.

On my knees, legs spread, Mike on his knees behind me, one arm around me, finger twitching on my clit, his other hand coming from the back, two of his long fingers buried inside me, I was mostly riding them but he was also finger fucking me.

It was building. Oh God. Oh God.

Damn, I was going to come without his cock.

“Mike,” I moaned then jammed myself down on his fingers and came.

He shoved them up further, finger still twitching on my clit and God, God, it was sublime.

Then I was on my back, my knees high, the backs of them hooked around the insides of Mike’s elbows, his hands were planted in the bed, his cock was planted in me.

I spread my legs wider, my eyes roamed over his body as my arms reached between my legs so my fingers could do the same.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered and I did what I was told instantly.

His head dropped down and he watched as he kept thrusting deep.

Oh God, it was going to be a double. A quick double. God, God.

“God,” I breathed and came again, my legs tensing around Mike’s arms and his driving cock slammed into me.

A few minutes later I felt Mike’s hips rear in and watched his head rear back, the chorded muscles of his neck straining, the veins sticking out and it was so fantastic, I nearly came again.

He stayed planted and my fingers roamed as he felt it then started coming down. And he continued to stay planted as he swung my calves in at his back and settled some of his weight on me.

Then he gave me his slow burn kiss.

When his mouth released mine and his was working my neck, I squeezed him with all four limbs, turned my head and said in his ear, “That was nice.”

“Yeah,” he murmured against my skin.

I grinned.

So Mike.

Yeah.

I squeezed him again. “I gotta get up, gorgeous, hit the shower.”

“You aren’t movin’.”

“Mike, it’s a big day. There’s a million things to do.”

He pressed his hips into me, I drew in breath and his head came up.

“You…are not…movin’,” he declared.

Mike was feeling in the mood to be alpha.

Then again, Mike was pretty much always in the mood to be alpha.

So I guessed I wasn’t moving.

“Right,” I muttered.

He grinned at me. Then his head dropped and his mouth started working my neck again and I wondered why I wanted to move in the first place.

Mike stood, bent at the waist, hands on the counter, eyes on the blonde haired little girl in her kelly green flower girl dress with a dish towel wrapped around her front sitting on the counter in front of him. Her Mom’s long, shining hair that was on her little girl head was a mass of curls with a wide, satin, kelly green ribbon threaded through them holding the hair away from her face.

She was engaged in downing a glass of chocolate milk.

And she was determined.

She accomplished this feat, dropped the glass she held in both her hands, looked up at her Dad with her big, dark brown eyes and dramatically gasped a long, “Ahhhh.”

Mike grinned and asked, “That good?”

His youngest daughter, Amanda grinned back with a chocolate milk mustache and nodded fervently.

“Right,” he muttered, “you’re topped up and good to go.”

Then he took the glass from her, set it aside and pulled the dishtowel from her front to wipe her mouth with it.

He was lifting her off the counter when Reesee, hair done, makeup perfect, wearing a shimmery short robe, raced in, took one look at him and shrieked, “I can’t find my shoes!”

Then she turned and raced out.

Mike put Mandy on her feet but dipped his chin into his neck to look way down at her and saw her head tipped way back to look up at her Daddy.

“Reesee’s nutty,” Mandy declared.

“Got that right, baby,” Mike muttered then turned and saw Austin, his dark blond headed, dark brown eyed, six year old son wearing a little boy’s tux complete with a yellow rose boutonniere pinned to his lapel wandering in.

“Reesee’s losin’ it, Dad,” he announced the obvious.

“I think I got that,” Mike told him.

“I can’t get married without shoes!” Reesee shrieked from what sounded like upstairs.

It was then Dusty walked in. She was wearing a pale yellow dress that skimmed her figure, a sheer, flowy layer of material over the same colored satin underneath. Sleeveless, v-necked and showing a minute amount of cleavage which exposed just a hint of her gunshot scar. It was v-backed as well but the back vee went lower. The skirt hugged her ass, hips and thighs and the satin stopped above her knees but the sheer layer fell in a flippy edge to skim them. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail at the nape of her neck, wrapped in a pale yellow, satin ribbon. She had her diamond studs in her ears, the diamond pendant Mike gave her for their second anniversary (the second most important one, the day she forgave him) at her neck and that was it.

She looked stunning.

“We have a shoe crisis,” she proclaimed. “All hands on deck and by that, I mean you, Dad.” She looked down at Austin, “You, big man, I need to look after your sister. Her dress has to stay perfect for t-minus one hour and fifteen minutes and only then can she set about destroying it. Until the shoes are located, this is your mission. My suggestion, go into the family room and recruit Uncle Jordy to help you accomplish it.”

Austin looked up at his Mom and nodded solemnly. Then he moved to his sister, took her hand and led her toward the family room.

Dusty’s eyes slid through him and then she disappeared.

Mike winked at his daughter who was gazing back at him then he moved to join the search.

He was surprised Reesee wasn’t together but then again that day of any would be the time to lose it. Usually, she was quite a bit like Dusty, except in a quieter, softer way. Confident. Laidback. No-nonsense.

He figured in one hour, fifteen minutes, she’d come back to that.

He moved through the house mostly going through the motions considering he had no fucking clue what he was looking for.

This was not a hardship.

When Dusty was pregnant with Amanda, she’d sold her ranch to the couple who’d been renting it since a month after she got shot.

Then they’d moved from the development into The ‘Burg. A big, established house on Green Street. Huge yard. A line of peony bushes that ran the long, side drive that every May burst into huge, downy blooms of colors ranging from the richest cream to the deepest pink. In the summer Dusty hung four big pots of ferns from the roof of the front porch that ran the length of the house and she put his Adirondack chairs out there. The house had big rooms, a kitchen built to make Thanksgiving dinner and lots of sash windows where, in the living room at the front of the house, they put their Christmas tree every year. Out in the vast, sweeping backyard there was a detached two car garage and an enormous, heated shed where Dusty made her pottery.

And as he wandered the rooms looking for a shoebox, like he did when he did his walkthroughs randomly at night, he took it all in and he didn’t miss what he saw.

He had it all. The full dream. His family in a big, old, graceful house in The ‘Burg, Christmas tree in the window, ferns hanging from the porch roof in the summer.

And a beautiful, smart, funny, loving woman in his bed who was his wife, the mother of two of his kids and the adoring stepmom to the other two.

He was living the dream.

All of it.

He looked into the family room hoping Rees hadn’t lost her mind and stowed her shoes there and saw Mandy on Jordy’s lap, Jordy pushed back in Mike’s recliner happily watching cartoons with Mike’s kids.

Jordy’s eyes came to his and he reported, “I already reconned the area. No shoes.”

Mike chuckled and jerked up his chin then he moved out of the door and wandered up the wood steps with their dusky blue carpet runner, rounded the middle landing and hit the top where the kids’ rooms and his office were. He’d just walked through the door to what would soon become the guest room considering Reesee wasn’t going to be in it anymore when she emerged from her closet with a scary-spiked-high-heeled, ivory satin shoe in each hand and she declared, “Found them!”

“In your closet,” Mike noted and his daughter’s eyes cut to his.

“Mike,” Dusty muttered but her voice was vibrating with amusement.

She was on her hands and knees on the floor, ass pointed in the air, her own scary-spike-high-heeled shoes (hers were pale yellow and they were strappy sandals) already on her feet, clearly having just been engaged in checking under the bed.

Mike tore his gaze from his wife’s ass and looked to Audrey who had a piece of luggage open on the bed, the folded contents of which her hands had suspended from carefully pawing through. Her dancing eyes were on Mike and her lips were pressed together to stop herself from laughing.

“Cut me some slack, Dad,” Reesee snapped and Mike looked at his daughter. “I’m gettin’ married today.”

“Yeah, to a man you’ve been with for seven years. Jesus, Reesee, you’re already practically married. You’re just doin’ this to have a party and cash in on presents,” Mike replied.

“Mike,” Dusty muttered again, now on her feet and her voice was still vibrating with amusement.

Audrey actually snorted.

“Mom!” Reesee shouted, glaring at her mother.

“Honey, your Dad is funny,” Audrey defended herself.

Mike crossed his arms on his chest and grinned at his daughter.

“I’m just cuttin’ the tension with a joke,” he told her and her eyes sliced to his.

“If that’s what you’re tryin’ to do, you’re failing!” Reesee clipped.

Mike’s grin faded and he whispered, “Calm down, beautiful. It’s all gonna be okay. Everything is going to be perfect. You’re marrying a good man who loves you, you love him and you’re starting on a journey that’ll make you happy until the day you die.”

He watched his daughter’s eyes fill with tears then she waved her hand in front of her face and exclaimed, “Don’t make me cry! My makeup! The makeup girl just left! She can’t do repairs.”

“Come here,” Mike ordered.

“No. You’re gonna make me cry,” Reesee returned, still waving her hand in front of her face.

“Reesee, honey, come here,” Mike said quietly but firmly.

She held his eyes, dropped her hand and came to him.

“We’ll just give you two a minute,” Dusty muttered and she and Audrey slid by them and out the door.

Mike lifted both his hands and cupped his girl’s jaw.

Then his eyes moved over her face.

Then they locked on hers.

“Most beautiful girl in the world,” he whispered.

She dropped her shoes, her hands came up and wrapped around his wrists, tight.

“Dad,” she whispered back.

“Most beautiful girl in the world,” he repeated, his voice thick.

She pressed her lips together.

He brought her closer and bent in.

With lips to the top of her hair, he murmured, “Love you, my Reesee.”

“I love you too, Daddy.”

Daddy.

He closed his eyes and pressed his lips against her fragrant, soft hair.

Then he pulled back a bit and whispered into her hair, “Always.”

“Always, Daddy,” she whispered back.

He heard pandemonium downstairs which meant her bridesmaids were arriving.

So he straightened away but kept his hands on her jaws and again caught her eyes.

She held his gaze and his wrists and didn’t let go.

Then two of her bridesmaids entered the room.

“Ohmigod! Your hair is divine,” one of them announced.

Mike smiled at his daughter.

Then he let her go and moved away. The bridesmaids, already wearing their sophisticated, kelly green bridesmaids dresses, converged as he walked toward the door.

He looked back to see her huddled with one, the other one had hold of her wedding dress that had been hanging on the closet door.

Then he drew in a deep breath and left the room.

And he did this preparing to do what he’d have to do in an hour.

The impossible.

Let her go.

Mike sat in a chair at the front of the huge formation of them that were set out in the sun by the side of the Holliday farmhouse. His eyes were on the awning that was in front of him. It was strewn with yellow roses and kelly green ribbons and streamers, all of which were drifting in the lazy breeze that luckily swept away the humidity and took the burn off the day.

Dusty had just left the seat at his side to walk under the awning.

Jonas had left the groomsmen line and was seating himself at the piano.

Dusty grinned at Jonas. He grinned back. She nodded and No twisted his head to look at his bud who was sitting at a set of drums.

Jonas jerked up his chin, the drummer kicked in and Dusty started humming into the microphone she was standing in front of.

While Reesee and Fin stood in each other’s arms under the awning looking into each other’s eyes, Dusty’s eyes found Mike’s.

Then in her pure, sweet, beautiful voice, his wife started singing Sarah McLachlan’s “Ice Cream”.

For his daughter and her nephew.

But to her husband.

Mike held her eyes as she sang, his son accompanied her and he let her voice settle into his soul.

Two minutes later, the song was over.

Fifteen minutes later, his daughter was Mrs. Finley Declan Holliday.

Two seconds after that, Mandy Haines looked at her Daddy from her place standing in front of her sissy Reesee’s pretty best friend, she opened her mouth and yelled, “Daddy! I’m gonna marry a boy just like Finny!”

Everyone in the chairs in front of her burst out laughing.

Even her Mommy.

But Mandy was confused.

Because Daddy’s eyes closed slowly and he shook his head like he did when he told her no, she couldn’t do something, eat something, have something or go somewhere.

She wasn’t worried.

Daddy tended to give in.

Eventually.

His new wife in her father’s arms five feet away, Fin looked down at his mother in his.

She smiled up at him and she did a good job. It looked almost genuine.

He swayed with her and whispered, “I know what you’re thinkin’.”

“That I’m beside myself with happiness that my son married a good girl who loves him like crazy?” she asked through her smile.

“That you wish Dad was here,” Fin contradicted and watched the pain shade her eyes for a moment before she rallied and forced her fading smile to brighten. He gave her a squeeze with his arms and kept whispering, “Ma, I do too.”

“I know,” she whispered back.

“So let’s bring him here,” Fin suggested and she blinked.

“What?”

“What song was sung at your wedding?” he asked and the pain slid out of her eyes as happy memories pushed it out.

“‘We’ve Only Just Begun,’” she answered then focused on him. “I know. Lame. But Dusty sang that too.”

“Bet it was pretty,” Fin muttered.

“Beautiful,” she whispered.

“You get drunk?” he asked, grinning at her.

“Of course not!” she exclaimed.

“Dad?” Fin pressed and her eyes slid away as her lips twitched.

“A little,” she admitted.

“Totally shitfaced, Ma, he told me, like, a million times.”

She looked at him again. “He did?”

“Uh…yeah.”

Her lips twitched again before she shared, “I was furious. Froze him out. The honeymoon was not what he expected.”

Fin burst out laughing.

“For the first two days,” she muttered through his laughter and Fin kept laughing.

When he stopped she was smiling up at him.

And that was genuine.

There.

He did it.

Then she informed him, “That was as long as I could hold out.”

Fin burst out laughing again, pulling his Ma close when she did too.

Rivera eased into the chair beside Mike and Mike’s eyes went to him.

“Bro, seriously, I can’t move. I have never eaten so much in my entire life,” Rivera announced. “Jerra’s all up in my shit. She says I do this at every buffet. But, what the fuck? It’s a buffet. Open. Which means seconds. And thirds.”

Mike’s eyes moved to Jerra who was dancing with Dusty on the wooden dance floor laid out on the grass in the Holliday yard. Their dance partner was Ryker, who, fuck him, had his hands up in the air, his hips rolling, his teeth sunk into his lower lip and he looked like a white man rapper surrounded by classy, white ‘ho’s.

Jesus.

“And I got another problem,” Rivera declared and Mike tore his eyes off his laughing wife, her giggling best friend, the fact that they were doing everything in their power to egg Ryker on and he looked to Rivera.

“What?” he asked.

“My thirteen year old is in love,” Hunter answered then jerked his head toward the dance floor.

Mike’s eyes went back, he scanned and found the pretty, dark haired, olive skinned thirteen year old Adriana swaying at its side, gazing with longing eyes at Jonas playing guitar with his band.

Mike looked back at Rivera. “I think you’re good. No has a girlfriend. Or, more accurately, twenty-five of them.”

Rivera chuckled.

Mike continued, “And she’s a little young for him.”

“Good to know,” Rivera muttered and stretched his cowboy-booted feet out in front of him.

Mike looked back at Jonas. His son’s band was doing this gig for his sister for free. Usually, they demanded top dollar because the places they played could demand top cover charges. He somehow made a living at this, playing all over Indy, in West Lafayette and Bloomington for college gigs and it was not unheard of for them to head up to Chicago, down to Lexington or over to Cincinnati or Cleveland. He wasn’t a rock god but they’d recently had a scout approach about laying down some tracks and doing a wider tour taking in the Midwest, the South and Texas. Jonas had graduated to writing songs which did not surprise Mike. They were better than good and the scout told him so. But Jonas had confidence in his talent; he wasn’t gagging to be signed. He just worked at it and expected it to happen.

And, apparently, it was happening.

And it wasn’t a mystery why. They were playing a wedding, a big one with nearly three hundred guests, but they were phenomenal and the packed dance floor was proof. The vibe they gave was fantastic.

“So, it’s gonna happen to me eventually, what’s this feel like?” Rivera asked and Mike looked back at him.

“What does what feel like?”

Rivera’s eyes left him and moved across the yard. Mike followed his gaze and saw Fin and Rees in a close huddle, having a moment of alone time amidst a throng of people.

It was not the first time he saw it. It was also not the first time he saw it that day, Fin in his dark tux, Rees in her flowing, angelic wedding gown.

And it was also not the first time it hit him with a pierce through the heart.

“It hurts like all fucking hell,” Mike muttered then his eyes moved back to Rivera and he finished, “And I’ve never been happier.”

The skin around Rivera’s eyes got soft but his mouth grinned.

Then he muttered, “Pray for me, brother, that Adriana lands a Finley Holliday.”

Mike looked back at the couple and saw Fin’s hand wrapped around the side of Rees’s neck. He was lifting his head, smiling down at her and he’d probably just kissed her. Then someone approached, Reesee’s eyes slid away and Fin’s jaw got tight for a second, clearly not wanting their moment disturbed.

He loved Mike’s daughter.

More than life.

“I’ll do that,” Mike assured Rivera and looked back at his wife, her friend and fucking Ryker who somehow got hold of his baby girl Mandy and had attached her to his rolling hip. She had one little arm wrapped around his thick neck, the other arm, like his other arm, was fist in the air. And they had been joined, flying in the face of all that was holy, by Rhonda, Audrey, fucking Kirby and a terrifying, white man bad dancing Jordy.

Fuck.

“Do me a favor,” Mike stated as he walked into our bedroom.

“What?” I asked, rubbing lotion into my hands.

Mike stopped at the foot of the bed. “Never, ever dance with fucking Ryker again.”

I burst out laughing.

Mike did not.

I forced it down to a chuckle and said through it, “It was fun.”

“Jesus,” he muttered and his hands went to the buttons of his white, pleated-front tuxedo shirt.

I shifted my legs and slid them under the covers of our bed.

Mike dropped his shirt to the floor.

“She rear her head?” he asked the floor, hands working at his belt.

He was talking about Debbie.

“When I checked my phone after dinner, she’d called three times.”

Mike’s eyes came to me.

“You return the calls?”

I shook my head and said quietly, “Fin’s rules, Rees backed him up. She wasn’t a part of today.”

Mike nodded, turning his eyes away.

“She sat through the whole day in a hotel room by the highway waiting for the all-clear to join the party,” I told him something he already knew.

“Good place for her to be,” Mike remarked.

Cautiously, I stated, “It’s a long time to hold a grudge, honey.”

Mike’s eyes came back. “She tried to take away his livelihood, his legacy and his most precious memory of his father just because she was pissed that you had me. Do you not think that’s worth a long grudge?”

I bit my lip and Mike watched. I didn’t answer but that was my answer and Mike knew it.

So he muttered, “Right.”

Mike too, obviously, was holding a grudge. Even longer than me. His rules were the same as Fin’s. My sister did not enter our lives. Not when we were married. Not when I had Austin. Not when I had Mandy. Never.

Infrequently, I spoke with her though I didn’t share this with Mike however he was a cop and a smart guy on top of that so I suspected he knew. These conversations were mostly informative and uncomfortable. I knew she was sorry. I also knew she had no clue how to say that. So she didn’t.

Until she figured it out, she was missing out.

On everything.

Mike and Fin’s decree. Apologize or stay cast out.

I thought it was a heavy penance. They didn’t agree. And seeing as they were both macho, badasses, I didn’t want to go there so I let it be.

I settled back, Mike finished disrobing and put on his pajama bottoms.

He was walking to the bed to join me when I asked, “Mandy and Austin down and out?

“Yep,” he answered, throwing back the covers and folding in.

I started to roll into him and halfway there I had help when Mike shoved his arm under me and pulled me the rest of the way.

I lifted my head to look down at him.

“You okay?” I asked gently.

“Great day, weird feeling. Hated every second of it just as much as I loved it. But they’re right together. He’d move heaven and earth for her, she feels the same. So I suppose if I gotta let her go, a man as fine as your nephew is the best bet I have.”

I studied his face.

God, he didn’t get it.

“You haven’t noticed,” I whispered and Mike’s brows drew together.

“Pardon?”

“Honey, Fin claimed her seven years ago.”

His arm around me got tight and he started, “Dusty –”

“He did,” I cut him off. “And you haven’t noticed that even though he did, you never had to let her go. Which means you never do. None of you. No either. She’s all of yours and you’ve lucked out because, with Reesee, she’s got a lot to spread around.”

I watched his eyes warm, his face get soft and felt his hand come up and cup my cheek.

“Fuck, I love you, Angel.”

I grinned at him and whispered, “Yeah.”

His thumb moved on my cheek as his eyes held mine.

“You have a good day?” he asked.

“The best,” I answered, feeling my grin get bigger.

“So now’s a good time to hit you up,” he noted.

I pressed closer and dipped my face to his.

His hand left my cheek so both arms could slide around me and I whispered, “Oh yeah.”

His face suddenly got serious and he whispered back, “Then, darlin’, we need to get a dog.” I felt my body get tight but Mike’s arms got tighter and he kept talking. “A dog makes a house safer and it completes a family. I wanna give that to Austin and Mandy, not to mention you and me.”

“Mike –”

“Dusty,” he stated firmly and I stared at him.

Layla had died two years ago. Mike was devastated. So were No and Rees. Even Fin was upset about it. And Kirby.

I came unraveled.

“I can’t,” I whispered.

“Honey –”

“He would have shot me again, Mike.”

His arms got so tight, the breath left me.

I forced some back in and reminded him of something he didn’t want to be reminded of.

“She went at him. If she didn’t, he would have finished me. She made it possible for me to have everything I have today. I can’t replace her. Not yet. I can’t.”

“Okay, Angel,” Mike whispered.

“Give me time.”

“All right.”

I dropped my head and pressed my face in his throat.

“Fucked up. Good day. Shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

Layla had been my constant companion from that black day onward. Before that day, she was Mike’s. After that day, she was mine. She knew with some dog sense she saved my life and she took that responsibility seriously. There was never another threat but that didn’t mean she left my side. She’d wander. Go out to take care of business. But she knew what she did for me and she knew how I felt about it. So she always stayed close.

My golden girl.

“You didn’t fuck up,” I whispered and lifted my head to look down at him again. “Today was a day of making happy memories and remembering old ones. And all that was Layla was one, big, happy memory.”

He smiled a gentle smile at me and whispered, “Yeah.”

I grinned and reminded him, “And she loved Ryker.”

Mike rolled his eyes to the headboard.

I chuckled.

Then I slid my hand up his chest and curled my fingers around his neck, sharing more happy memories, “Today, Darrin would have been freaking thrilled. You with me. Us making Austin and Mandy. And Fin finding Reesee and making her his in front of God and everybody. He would have been smiling big all…fucking…day.”

Mike grinned again and said, “Yeah.”

“It was a great day,” I declared.

“Yeah,” Mike agreed.

“Perfect.”

Mike just kept grinning at me.

My hand slid up to his jaw and my face got super close.

“Thank you, honey, for making me so fucking happy.”

The smile went out of his eyes, he lifted his head, touched his mouth to mine then settled back on his pillow.

Then he whispered, “That’s my line.”

I felt warmth in my chest. Then I dropped my head and put my lips to my husband’s.

He took them and instantly rolled me.

Then the day got happier.

Carefully, Mike slid away from Dusty and angled out of bed.

Then his feet moved through the dark, silent, still house.

Living room. Dining room. Family room. Kitchen.

Up the stairs.

Mandy first, on her side, curled into a ball, the bright pink covers at her little waist, one little foot free.

Austin next, on his back, arm thrown wide, covers kicked off, his little tee had ridden up exposing his little kid belly.

Mike flicked the covers over him and left the room.

The office.

Then Reesee’s room, mostly gutted, her suitcases gone, spending that night with Fin in Indy at the Hyatt Regency before they went to Jamaica tomorrow.

Back down the stairs, one final go through then into his and Dusty’s room.

She hadn’t moved.

He cautiously slid in behind her, fitted his front to her back, wrapped an arm around her waist and tucked her gently to him.

“All well?” she muttered sleepily and he smiled into her hair. She knew he didn’t want to wake her. Sometimes he succeeded. Sometimes she pretended to be asleep even though he knew he woke her.

Sometimes, she’d not fake it.

“All’s well,” he muttered back, giving her a squeeze.

And that was no lie.

All was well.

All was absolutely, undeniably, beautifully well.

And on that thought, Mike fell asleep.