“You were fifteen when she left.”
Lifting her chin, Kelsey looked Alex square in the eye. “Yes, but Rafe always said I was the dumber sister, which worked out pretty good, all things considered. My being awkward and shy saved me from him.”
“But it drove you into Nick’s arms.” And for that, Alex would gladly wring Uncle Rafe’s slimy neck. Nick Durrant was the bastard ex-husband, the son of a bitch who’d murdered Kelsey’s two tiny sons and then tried to kill her. Who’d very nearly killed Alex to get at Kelsey.
“Yes, but Nick’s dead now, and you’re here,” she breathed. “I look back on everything I’ve lived through, and I can see how every last one of the people in my life, good or bad, brought me to you. To us.” She cast a sideways glance at the bassinet. “To this special day and to our family. We may not have everyone we care about with us right now, Alex, but the ones we’ve loved are waiting for us. This might sound strange, but I’m excited to meet Sara someday. It’ll be good to talk about you with someone who loved you almost as much as I do.”
That did it. Alex tugged his wife across the narrow space between them and settled her onto his lap. The world always felt more tolerable with Kelsey in his arms and his nose in her hair. His lungs expanded as he wrapped his arms around her and drew in a deep, satisfying breath of the woman he lived for. “You and Sara together, huh? You’d like her.”
“You do realize that you have two daughters and three sons now,” she murmured into his neck.
“And two wives.”
He felt her lips curl into a smile. “Yes, just two. Those other two women you married never counted.”
“No, no they didn’t,” he breathed. Wives number two and three had been stupid mistakes born of despair and grief after he’d lost Sara and Abby. Neither marriage had lasted a year, and Alex knew he’d been out of his mind, thinking another woman in his bed would fill the holes in his heart. He’d divorced and lost touch with those two, long before he’d met Kelsey.
She’d wrapped one arm around his neck and was fingering the top button of his dress shirt, her fingertips soft and warm on his skin. He’d barely gotten home from work last night when she’d gone into labor. Now he was at the end of a tumultuous day, the proud father of five, and the humble servant of his queen.
“I’ll never understand how I got this lucky,” he confessed.
“Easy,” she breathed. “You were smart enough to marry me.”
He settled his palm over her hip, his fingers splayed across the cheek of her lovely ass. “I was that,” he whispered as he dipped his head and captured her lips.
“I love you, Alex,” she breathed into his mouth.
“And I will love you to the day I die,” he promised, mumbling around her lips. Swearing fealty to his queen was easy.
“So tell me about your dad.”
Damn it. Were all queens this persistent?
“After dinner,” he promised. “First we eat, then story time.”
“You’re stalling.”
He nodded. There was no sense trying to fool the woman who knew him best. “I promise. Tonight, I’ll answer all your questions. But first, I’m ordering you a steak and a salad. Chocolate cake for dessert.”
“And you,” she whispered. “All I really need is you.”
Alex dropped his nose into her hair, so damned tired of hiding his tears, but hiding them all the same. He was that guy in the Christmas story, “It’s a Wonderful Life.” He was the richest man on Earth.
Chapter Six
Jameson froze at Maddie’s blurted declaration, positive she wasn’t any more married than he was. She’d lied, and he wanted to know why. Yet he’d never ask. People lied for many reasons, most frequently, when they were backed into a corner. Asking would only back her into another corner. Confrontation never worked in meaningful relationships; not like he’d had one in a while. But he was hopeful.
People didn’t realize that lust was a vibrant, living, two-way connection. Maybe it was just the adrenaline of getting a new job—a blind man’s dream job. But he was certain Maddie had also felt the sexual tension simmering between them. He surely had. Felt like a strand of det cord on fire. Hot. So damned hot that he needed a couple minutes to get his body to stand down. Not up, which it was certainly doing now.
He was breathing hard, trying not to. For her sake, he’d put on his TEAM polo, then located his cane and held it centerline, hoping like hell that skinny white stick hid the bad, bad boy now pressing tightly behind his zipper.
But if she wasn’t ready or—God forbid—if she were truly married, well… Damn. That’d be too bad. Because finally, Jameson was raring to go and ready to live again. He hadn’t told Maddie he’d failed at dating too, because really? What kind of a wimp would that make him?
So he went for nonchalant. “How do I look?”
“Good,” she answered, but her vocal cords were still too
