Be My Hero(73)

Remembering we had company, I glanced up to find Hart watching us in amusement. "So, when can I start?" he asked.

"Tonight." I was starting to tell him every new bartender needed to get  broken in on a ladies' night, when I suddenly realized where I'd seen  him before. The tat behind Eva's ear brought the glimpse back into my  mind. Hart was the deejay who was going to play at my wedding reception.

Realizing he would have a bigger role in my future than I'd first  realized, I smiled at him. "Yeah, I think you're going to fit in just  fine. Wear at tight, black T-shirt and jeans and show up before six when  we open."

A grin spread across Hart's face. "Will do, boss."

After he disappeared from my office, the woman with her arms wrapped  around my waist gazed up at me with absolute adoration. "So I'm guessing  you're not pissed at me for hiring him on the spot. I just felt a good  vibe from him."

I leaned down to rub my nose along hers. "Don't worry. I got the same vibe. We definitely have us a new Forbidden boy."

"And he's definitely hot enough to fit in," she answered, her unique blue eyes gleaming with mischief.

I narrowed mine. "Oh, you think he was hot, huh? That why you were so eager to hug him?"

She laughed, spilling out that sound I loved most in the world. "No, I  hugged him so you'd turn all jealous and caveman and pull me away from  him."

"You are one devious woman," I murmured. "Is that the only reason you  came in today? To make me prove how crazy I am about you? I thought you  were staying home with the babies."

"I was but . . . " She yanked open her purse and pulled out an  official-looking envelope. "This came in the mail, so I dropped the kids  off with Reese and came straight here."

My stomach roiled with instant unease. We'd gotten too many official  letters lately. After her father's death, his will had stipulated Eva  get a nice chunk of his inheritance that she was forced to share with  her newly widowed mother. But her mother had been fighting for more of  the money, so she'd hired a lawyer, to which we'd had to put our new  lawyer to more work to fight back.

Eva had said she didn't want any of her father's money, but I thought he  owed it to her, and more. For Skylar, Julian, and our future Chloe,  she'd decided to keep it.

"It's from social services," she said, surprising me.

I hadn't thought we'd get word back about Julian quite so fast. A new  worry gnawed at my gut as she stuck her finger in the slit and opened  the letter. Tightening my arms around her, I held my breath as she  quickly scanned the single page.

Her eyes lifted to mine, sober and unsmiling. I almost started sobbing  right then. We hadn't been granted the adoption, had we? We were going  to lose him.

Then tears prickled her eyes. "They said yes. Oh my God. They said yes. We can adopt him."

"What?"

"We can really keep him." Hugging me, laughing and crying at the same  time, Eva began to jump up and down and screech her excitement.

"Oh, shit." In a split second, I was crying with her, tears of joy streaming down my face.

Hauling her up off the ground, I spun my woman in a circle as I sobbed  into her neck. As we held onto each other tightly, I wondered why this  moment hadn't been in any of my glimpses. I didn't know if I'd ever felt  quite this happy and relieved before.

But I guess Madam LeFrey hadn't wanted me to see too much. Damn witch  had made me sweat it out. Which only made me appreciate the moment more.

"I love you so much," I told Eva, kissing my way up her neck to her mouth.

She found my lips and kissed me back. "I love you too."         

     



 

"Before we adopt him, though, you have to do me one favor."

"Anything," she promised, only to pause and give me a leery eye. "Wait. What do I have to do?"

I winked. "Marry me."





Eva's Epilogue


EVA


Eight Years After That

"Are you sure you're ready for this?"

I smiled over at my husband as he turned into the long lane of our  driveway. Trees in the front yard cast a nice shady shadow before  revealing our four-bedroom ranch-style home. "Why are you so worried? I  don't see how this time is any different than the last."

He sent me a dry look. "The twins didn't exist the last time you came  from the hospital after giving birth." He said twins as if he actually  meant evil, demon spawn.

I laughed and shook my head. "I'm sure they didn't destroy the house that bad."

Pick snorted. "Reese is probably trying to peel them off the ceiling  right now. I'm telling you, letting her and Mason watch our kids while  you were at the hospital was a bad idea. Who knows what kind of habits  their insane twins have already taught our perfect little angels."

"My God. You're getting dramatic in your old age, Patrick."

But he did have a point.

The two-year-old Lowe children could be quite a terror. They went  full-speed all day long, curious about everything and always eager to  play.

We heard the commotion from inside as soon as Pick killed the engine and opened the car door.

Glancing at me with gritted teeth, he muttered, "Still think I'm overreacting?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm sure Reese will pay for anything they broke."

"Lovely." He slid from the car and pulled open the back door to  carefully pull out our two-day-old sleeping son. Pausing to stare, his  face immediately softened. "Damn, he's perfect."

I hurried around the car to trail my fingers up his back. "Because he looks just like his daddy."

Pick winked at me as he tugged the carrier free. "Be careful, Tink. Or I'll be ready to start making baby number five."

I moaned. "I think four's enough."

"Oh, come on. We don't even have a basketball team yet." When I shot him a glare, he laughed.

It still irked Pick that he'd never had a glimpse of baby number four.  After Chloe had been born, he was so sure that was all the kids we'd  have. But then I'd gotten pregnant again, and honestly, it tickled me  pink that he'd been so stunned. The first few years of our marriage had  been grossly unfair. He'd known every big thing that was ever going to  happen. He'd known Chloe was going to be a girl, he'd known this would  be our home from the moment we'd taken a tour and stepped into the  backyard. But now he was just as clueless about the future as I was. And  it felt good to finally know as much as he did.

The door to the house opened before we reached it.

"Hold the baby! Hold the baby!" hollered a small blur I knew to be Gracen, Thing One of the terrible Lowe duo. "Baby."

Pick caught Reese's son around the waist with one arm as he continued to carry the new baby in his carrier with the other.

"Not on your life, pal," he told Gracen.

When the toddler began to kick his feet, Pick thrust him at his mother  when she too hurried outside, smiling wide. "Here. Control your child."

"Oh, did he get out?" Reese swept the boy up high into her arms and made him squeal with laughter.

"Hold baby," Gracen demanded.

Reese laughed and kissed his nose. "Me first, squirt."

Julian was the first to tackle us when we came through the door. "Mom!  You're home. No one told us you were home already. Are you okay?"

"I'm wonderful." I hugged him to my waist and ruffled his dark curls.  "Glad to be home with you again. How are things . . . here?"

Wow, there really was something unidentifiable and blue dripping from our ceiling.

He looked up at me and grinned, his dark eyes warm with adoration. "We were going to make you a special supper."

"And clean," Reese added ruefully.

I glanced around the front room, only for my jaw to fall open. Behind  me, Pick murmured, "Oh dear God. Did a bomb go off in here?"

"Nope. Only three two-year-olds and two eight-year-olds," Reese answered.

"I did not make any of this mess," Skylar announced as she went to Pick  to get a look at her newest little sibling. "Oh, my goodness," she  murmured, her eyes wide with awe. "He's so small."

Pick ruffled her hair and pulled her against his side. "Trust me; you were a lot smaller than this when you were born."

"No way." Her eyes were wide and she leaned in to get a closer look.

Mason appeared in the doorway from the kitchen hall, his arms full of  Chloe. My youngest daughter was a major uncle's girl and clung to poor  Mason whenever he was around. Spotting me, she grinned and pointed.  "Mama." But she seemed satisfied to stay right where she was.         

     



 

"Where's Thing Two?" Pick asked, glancing around suspiciously for Miss  Isabella, the second twin. She made Gracen seem mild when she was  around.

"Asleep," Mason answered. Then he hitched his chin toward the carrier. "What do you have there, Pick?"

Pick glanced at me and grinned, and I felt so full of love, surrounded  by my favorite people on earth. Lifting his son, Pick announced,  "Everyone, meet Patrick Mason Ryan."