“What you both want?” Max returned, still calm, still coolly regarding the old man.
“It is. But she doesn’t want to upset you.”
Jack had placed a hand on Max’s chest to keep him where he was. Max shoved it off and took a step forward, sizing Gregor up.
“You’re not good enough for my mother,” Max returned calmly.
“I know I’m not,” Gregor agreed.
“She deserves a better man than you; she deserves a man like my father.”
“No man is good enough for Maxie,” Gregor responded.
Max grunted, “Damn straight,” then looked Gregor over from head to toe as if seeing him for the first time.
“If you break my mother’s heart, I’ll beat the shit out of you without a second thought. Old man or not.”
Gregor relaxed a fraction and nodded once. “I’d expect nothin’ less.”
A slow feral grin marked Max’s face, then he put out his hand. “I give you a week before you’re pullin’ your hair out.”
“You’d lose that bet,” Gregor scoffed. “I’ve been pulling my hair out for six months.”
On a bark, Max threw back his head and roared with laughter.
Epilogue
Six weeks later . . .
A soft breeze swirled around my head as I looked down at Emma Jane’s grave. So much had happened in the month and a half since I’d last been here that I didn’t know where to start.
After placing fresh flowers next to her headstone, I brushed fallen leaves from the top, then raised my hand and traced the outline of her face etched in the granite.
“Hey, pipsqueak. Sorry it took me so long to visit you, but my life has been a whirlwind the past month or so.”
A strong hand curled around my shoulder, so I raised my left hand and took hold. The sunlight reflected off my princess cut diamond as I squeezed Shane’s hand, bouncing off the headstone in a kaleidoscope of crystalline color.
“I brought someone with me,” I whispered. “Someone I know you’d approve of.”
Glancing up at Shane, I caught the far-off look on his face and knew he was remembering the day she died. I whispered, “Shane?” and his eyes cleared, then he looked down at me. With a deep breath, he sank to his knees and took in Emma’s face carved in the granite.
“She was a good kid,” he mumbled.
“Yes, she was . . . Thank you for being her friend and looking out for her.”
He closed his eyes for a brief moment, then opened them and nodded his head. “It was my honor,” he murmured softly.
It was time for a less serious mood, so I turned to Emma and giggled, “Shane’s going to be your brother-in-law. He somehow convinced me I’d be nuts if I didn’t marry him.”
Shane scoffed. “Didn’t take much convincin’. As I recall, your knees hit the floor and my hand was guidin’ your—”
I threw my hand over his mouth. “Emma doesn’t need the details.”
Lines crinkled at the corner of his eyes and he kissed my hand, nipping my fingers. “Pretty sure you were moaning too,” he continued with a smirk.
“Arrogant,” I gasped.
“Still right,” he returned, then grabbed my neck and kissed me.
The wind kicked up as he broke the kiss and placed his forehead on mine. I could feel Emma smiling down on us.
“I love you,” I said, cupping his face and running my thumb across his cheek. “Thank you for loving me and giving me a reason to live.”
Intensity clouded his gaze and he crushed me to his chest. “I can’t not love you,” he whispered. “It’s written in my DNA.”
We both turned our heads and looked at Emma’s smiling eyes. Eyes that laughed at us both, that held secrets and were full of love. They no longer haunted Shane’s dreams, and with each day, he spoke more and more of his time in Afghanistan. He’d been broken, but now he was pieced back together and moving forward. We both were. And that was the best way to honor Emma Jane.
***
Two months later . . .
Sitting at a table in Last Call, Mia and I stared at Max and Shane, biting our lips to keep from laughing. Neither man thought there was anything funny. In fact, they looked downright ill.
“Should we tell them you took me out on a raft today?” Mia asked out loud to take Max’s mind off the fact they’d walked into his mother’s house and found Gregor and Maxine using the kitchen counter for something other than food preparation.
According to Shane, there was a kilt involved and the words, “What’cha wearin’ under that kilt?” followed by Gregor showing, in great detail, what was underneath as Max walked in and caught the show. Also, according to Shane, there may or may not have been bleach involved and a phone call to a local psychiatrist for counseling.