If you have read the Prologue, you can now!

Chapter One

No One Was Perfect 

Eighteen Years Later

“How long do we have to talk?” Katelyn asked Dr. Regan Philes. Her patient looked nervous and was twisting her hands together in her lap.

“You scheduled a thirty-minute session with me,” Regan reminded Katelyn. “At your last session with Zachery, you both agreed it’d be a good idea for you to talk to me alone. Do you not want to do that?”

She’d been seeing Katelyn and Zachery for a month now. Four sessions and Zachery did the bulk of the talking and Katelyn only nodded her head.

Regan had been the one to offer a one-on-one session to see if she could figure out what Katelyn wanted without feeling the pressure from her husband.

“I do,” Katelyn said. “But it feels like whatever I say doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me,” she said. “This is your time. You’re free to say what you want.”

“You won’t tell Zachery?” Katelyn asked.

“Not if you don’t want me to. You’ve been coming to therapy for a month. I know Zachery wants to work it out. But I’m not sure what you want.”

People could try all they wanted, but if a couple wasn’t on the same page, they weren’t going to get the end results anyone was looking for.

To this day, she still has no idea why her parents never once tried to work out whatever differences they had.

Heck, she didn’t think there were any differences.

They didn’t talk about what was bothering them. They just made a decision, agreed it was for the best, and threw away over twenty years together—and messed up their son in the process.

Kellen was better now, but boy, her brother struggled for years, getting into trouble with drugs and alcohol. Wanting attention and hoping it’d bring their parents back together.

It didn’t and they were both remarried now and she had to listen again to how perfectly happy her parents both seemed to be.

She wouldn’t fall for that crap again.

Never.

No one was perfect.

No one was ever happy all the time.

And everyone got mad at their significant other at some point.

Life just wasn’t that tidy and it was her mission to help people open their mouths and let their voices be heard. If for no other reason than to feel better and let all that toxic crap go that was bottled up.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore,” Katelyn said.

“Do what?” she asked. 

She wanted to be clear. Her computer was recording like it always was and she’d type her notes up later. She kept those recordings in a cloud and would go back and listen to them again at some point if she had to, but she liked to review them before her notes were compiled and this allowed her to talk freely without the distractions of paper or typing.

“My marriage,” Katelyn said. “I don’t feel as if I have any say in anything. It’s so hard.”

“Have you told Zachery that?” she asked.

“That I don’t want to be married anymore?” Katelyn asked.

“Yes. And that you don’t feel as if you are being heard.”

“Both,” Katelyn said. “But he talks around me and the next thing I know, I’m agreeing.”

“Because it’s easier to agree than to speak up?” she asked.

“Yes,” Katelyn said. “I guess in the end I always lose, so why bother?”

“You agreed to come to counseling and it’s my job to get him to see your side of things at the same time for you to understand why he’s the way he is.”

“I know why Zachery is the way he is,” Katelyn said.

She listened to Katelyn repeat Zachery’s history of moving around so much in his life and never feeling as if he had any control. When he was old enough to make his own decisions in life, he pretty much did it all.

It wasn’t right or wrong and not for Regan to judge. 

Some women liked to be taken care of like that. 

Katelyn didn’t appear to be one of those women. It was her job to urge her client to say that.

“Let me ask you this,” she said. “If after the next three sessions, your opinion hasn’t changed, do you still want to have a trial separation from Zachery?”

“I want a divorce,” Katelyn said. “I’m afraid if I do a trial separation then he will talk me into staying and I can’t lose any more of myself. I don’t like who I am anymore. I never used to be this way. I don’t have friends that Zachery doesn’t know and has to meet.”

She hadn’t known that. “Does Zachery not let you go out with friends?”

“He does,” Katelyn said. “At times. But he wants to know who they are and what we are doing. I’ve never given him any reason not to trust me.”

“Have you had that conversation with him?” she asked.

“I’ve tried. But he won’t listen to me,” Katelyn said.

“We can talk about it today if you like,” she said.

“Sure,” Katelyn said.

Which was her client giving in. “But you’d rather not?” she asked. Katelyn shrugged. “Do you want to have a divorce and not continue with these sessions? It’s okay to say that. You’re here to talk these things out. People come to couples therapy for a number of reasons. Most times to save a relationship, but other times it’s to ease into a separation and the best way to maneuver it.”

“Really?” Katelyn asked.

“Yes. I urged this one-on-one session because I need to know what you want. This is the first you are speaking up. I can help you get that point across, but I need you to say it. I’ll be facilitating it, but it has to come from you.”

Katelyn took a deep breath. “Okay. I can’t do this anymore. I’m dreading these sessions with him. I just need to be away. I need to move on. I’m ill all the time waiting for him to come home and smother me. I just don’t love him anymore.”

She let Katelyn cry a little in her office, then they talked about the best way to approach it when Zachery showed up for their couple’s session.

But thirty minutes later, Katelyn wasn’t saying a word and Zachery was doing all the talking like always.

“I made reservations at Katelyn’s favorite restaurant for tomorrow night. I know she’s been working hard and deserves a break,” Zachery said.

She looked at Katelyn. “How do you feel hearing that?” she asked.

Katelyn forced a smile. “It sounds great.”

It went like this for another fifteen minutes without her client standing up for herself. It wasn’t her job to tell Zachery what Katelyn had said to her in confidence and she’d explained that prior to Zachery showing up.

When the session was done, Katelyn left with Zachery, him grabbing her hand and threading their fingers together. “Thanks so much, Dr. Regan,” Zachery said. “I think we are making so much progress.”

She forced a smile and nodded. Katelyn mouthed “sorry” to her and they left.

There was no reason Regan needed the apology other than her client would come here next week and either say the same things in private but then keep quiet with her husband, or change her tune.

Her job was to listen and point out what she saw.

“I’ll be back, Miles,” she said to her assistant. 

“You didn’t get anywhere, did you?” Miles asked. He was flamboyantly chipper as he laughed and waved his hands around.

Miles and his ex-boyfriend had been a client of hers last year, and though the relationship hadn’t lasted, Miles had been so mature about the breakup. A joy to work with and someone she truly enjoyed spending time with.

When he lost his job, and her business was growing to the point she needed help, then a better location, she’d asked if he’d be interested in running her office and doing her billing.

They’d been a great team ever since.

“I thought I was,” she said. “And now where I’m going is to the vending machine for a soda. I should talk to the Fierces. I wonder what the chances are of getting a wine vending machine in the building. Beer? I’d settle for that in a pinch after that session.”

“I’ve got a bottle of whiskey in my drawer,” Miles said. “Never been opened, but you know I said I’d keep it here.”

She smiled. “I might take you up on it one day but not today.”

She looked at the slim gold watch on her wrist. She had twenty minutes before her next client and walked out into the hallway, saw her clients off to the side bickering and told herself not to intervene. No one seemed in danger and Zachery’s smile was gone.

Katelyn pulled her arm away and walked into Davenport Law.

She stood there a minute debating if she should find out what was going on and then decided it might be better not to when Zachery turned to go toward the elevator.

They were on the second floor and she was going to take the stairs and turned in that direction and heard a throat clear.

There was Zander Conway watching her.

He had an office right next to hers. Private investigator.

They’d talked a few times in the two months she’d been here. She’d even referred a client to him who needed their spouse looked into for an affair.

She didn’t only do couples therapy, but that was the basis of her business recently.

“Good afternoon,” she said to Zander.

“Your clients came out of there hand in hand smiling and then next thing I know the woman is talking about a divorce.”

She held her grin in. At least Katelyn spoke up.

“Looks can be deceiving,” she said.

“I got nervous for a second that the guy was going to blow up. His face got red and he nudged her to the side. I politely offered that there was a law office right there that could handle any divorce.”

She started to laugh. Maybe she needed that right now.

“Did that make it better or worse?”

“Calmed the guy down fast, but the woman’s eyes lit right up and you saw what I did. She marched right in there. Hope I didn’t ruin any of the work you’ve been doing.”

Regan looked him over. He was over six feet of a yummy specimen.

She wasn’t sure the last time she looked at a man and thought that, but whenever she saw Zander Conway, her mind went to all sorts of things it never had in the past.

His hair was dark and a little messy right now. He had on jeans and sneakers, a black T-shirt and his phone was vibrating in his pocket. Loud enough for her to hear and her eyes to drop down to the front of his jeans by his crotch.

Once she realized what she was doing, she yanked them up fast and heard him laugh.

Caught.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” she said. “I guide and they choose their own paths.”

“I guided them right to an attorney. It was better than me breaking his fingers if he landed a hand on her.”

She let out a little laugh. This was making her day better than a drink could.

“I’m sure they both appreciate that,” she said.

“Good to see you, Doc,” he said, then took his call and went into his office, so she turned back into hers.

“Oh boy,” Miles said. “Sexy PI and you were having a conversation. I saw it and heard some of it.”

“How did you hear it?” she asked.

“That deep voice of his just sends all sorts of tingles in my body. I might have jumped up and sat in that chair with my ear against the wall.”

“You’re horrible,” she said.

“No,” Miles said. “Just honest. If only he was interested in my type, but he’s not. He has eyes for you though.”

“Please,” she said. “I’m not his type any more than you are.”

“She’s sassy,” Miles said, snapping his fingers in front of his face. “You want him to be interested in you.”

 “I didn’t say that,” she rushed out.

“But you meant it. Regan has a crush,” Miles said doing his best runway strut back to his desk.

“Hardly a crush,” she snorted. “I’m not a teen.”

“Did you get your drink?” Miles asked.

“What?”

“You were going to get a drink but didn’t make it downstairs. Maybe because tall dark and sexy distracted you.”

She felt her face fill with heat. “I’ve got water here,” she said, rushing to her office as Miles laughed at her.

Maybe she did have a crush. Just a tiny one.

Prologue

“Regan, Kellen, both of you come into the living room, please,” Regan’s mother said from the bottom of the stairs.

She and her brother were upstairs doing their homework like they always did after school.

The good girl, she’d always been told. That was what she was trying to be at sixteen.

Most of her friends were playing sports and hanging out after school. Not her.

Thankfully she’d always been confident enough in her life to do her own thing.

“What do you think Mom wants?” Kellen asked when he came out of his room.

“No clue,” she said. Her brother was four years younger than her. If he had his way, her brother would always be with his friends. 

But there were rules in their house and they followed them.

“Guess we’ll find out,” Kellen said. “Maybe it’s a family vacation.”

“Could be,” she said. Her parents often called these little family meetings to talk about a trip or a party. Family coming to visit. 

“Can’t you say more than two words?” Kellen asked, bumping into her going down the stairs.

She sighed. She heard that a lot too. 

She talked plenty in her mind. But she listened more. She observed.

She found that you learned more that way. 

“I’ll say more than two when I’ve got something to say,” she said. “Just like that sentence was more.”

“Brat,” Kellen said.

Considering most younger brothers were pains in her eyes, she had to say they got along well.

They got to the living room, her father sitting in his recliner still in his suit and tie from work. 

Her mother walked in and sat in the other recliner next to her father’s. Her parents always sat like that, like a couple.

She and Kellen sat on the couch.

“Your father and I are getting divorced,” her mother said calmly as if she was announcing there would be rice with dinner.

Regan just stared at the words her mother said. Kellen started to laugh. “Yeah, right,” he said. “What is going on?”

“Your mother is correct,” her father said. “We’ve been talking about it for months and it’s time to separate. I’ll be moving out this weekend. I’ve got an apartment for now. We just wanted to tell you two together.”

Her eyes shifted back and forth and she almost wondered if there was a camera hidden somewhere.

Kellen turned and looked at her. “Say something.”

“This is really happening?” she asked.

“Yes,” her mother said, nodding her head.

“Why?” she asked.

“Why what?” her father asked.

“Why are you divorcing when I don’t even know the last time you two fought?” she said.

“Never,” Kellen said. “That’s when you have fought. I’ve never seen you fight. How can you be getting a divorce if you don’t even fight? Last month you were laughing and giggling in the kitchen when I walked in and it was gross. I told you it was gross when you kissed Mom.”

Regan was thinking the same thing.

This wasn’t just coming out of left field; it was a whole different ballpark in another state.

“Kellen is right,” she said. “What happened? Don’t you think we should know?”

Her parents looked at each other. Her mother said, “It’s time. I don’t think we love each other anymore.”

“You don’t think?” she asked. This was just too confusing to her.

“Regan,” her mother said. “Your father and I have made up our minds. It’s between us. I know you’re surprised.”

“That’s the understatement of the year,” she said.

Kellen was starting to cry next to her. She felt the need to shed some tears too but was going to try to be strong for him.

Right now, she just wanted to understand.

“For now, your mother will live in the house with you. She’s home more and has more traditional hours. None of those things will change. My apartment is a mile away. I’ll still be at all your school functions and events like always.”

“You’re just not going to be living here?” she asked. “Like you’ll be friends instead? You want us to believe that you’ve been married almost twenty years and now are just going to part ways with no issues?”

“That is exactly right,” her mother said. “Now if you don’t have any more questions, I’ll get dinner on the table.”

“Dad’s staying for dinner?” Kellen asked.

“I am,” her father said. “Your mother made my favorite. I’m going to go change and then will help set the table.”

Kellen got up and ran upstairs; Regan went after him.

“Tell me that was a joke,” her younger brother said. “Pinch me right now.”

Her brother pinched his own arm and yelped.

“It’s not,” she said. “I don’t know what is going on. Everyone always said Mom and Dad were the perfect couple. They don’t fight. They are always together for everything for us. They weren’t even upset or mad just now.”

“No,” Kellen said. “Something isn’t right. Or are they that cold and calculating?”

“I don’t know anything,” she said. She wiped her hand under her nose. 

She didn’t understand how her parents could just come to this decision as if it were what kind of fruit to buy this week. Then just casually tell their children it was time to try kiwis rather than apples.

Because Kellen was right. Her parents always appeared…perfect.

Everyone said it.

They didn’t fight.

They were always together.

They weren’t even acting upset now.

What the hell was she missing and why did it feel as if nothing in her world would ever make sense again?

Prologue

“Regan, Kellen, both of you come into the living room, please,” Regan’s mother said from the bottom of the stairs.

She and her brother were upstairs doing their homework like they always did after school.

The good girl, she’d always been told. That was what she was trying to be at sixteen.

Most of her friends were playing sports and hanging out after school. Not her.

Thankfully she’d always been confident enough in her life to do her own thing.

“What do you think Mom wants?” Kellen asked when he came out of his room.

“No clue,” she said. Her brother was four years younger than her. If he had his way, her brother would always be with his friends. 

But there were rules in their house and they followed them.

“Guess we’ll find out,” Kellen said. “Maybe it’s a family vacation.”

“Could be,” she said. Her parents often called these little family meetings to talk about a trip or a party. Family coming to visit. 

“Can’t you say more than two words?” Kellen asked, bumping into her going down the stairs.

She sighed. She heard that a lot too. 

She talked plenty in her mind. But she listened more. She observed.

She found that you learned more that way. 

“I’ll say more than two when I’ve got something to say,” she said. “Just like that sentence was more.”

“Brat,” Kellen said.

Considering most younger brothers were pains in her eyes, she had to say they got along well.

They got to the living room, her father sitting in his recliner still in his suit and tie from work. 

Her mother walked in and sat in the other recliner next to her father’s. Her parents always sat like that, like a couple.

She and Kellen sat on the couch.

“Your father and I are getting divorced,” her mother said calmly as if she was announcing there would be rice with dinner.

Regan just stared at the words her mother said. Kellen started to laugh. “Yeah, right,” he said. “What is going on?”

“Your mother is correct,” her father said. “We’ve been talking about it for months and it’s time to separate. I’ll be moving out this weekend. I’ve got an apartment for now. We just wanted to tell you two together.”

Her eyes shifted back and forth and she almost wondered if there was a camera hidden somewhere.

Kellen turned and looked at her. “Say something.”

“This is really happening?” she asked.

“Yes,” her mother said, nodding her head.

“Why?” she asked.

“Why what?” her father asked.

“Why are you divorcing when I don’t even know the last time you two fought?” she said.

“Never,” Kellen said. “That’s when you have fought. I’ve never seen you fight. How can you be getting a divorce if you don’t even fight? Last month you were laughing and giggling in the kitchen when I walked in and it was gross. I told you it was gross when you kissed Mom.”

Regan was thinking the same thing.

This wasn’t just coming out of left field; it was a whole different ballpark in another state.

“Kellen is right,” she said. “What happened? Don’t you think we should know?”

Her parents looked at each other. Her mother said, “It’s time. I don’t think we love each other anymore.”

“You don’t think?” she asked. This was just too confusing to her.

“Regan,” her mother said. “Your father and I have made up our minds. It’s between us. I know you’re surprised.”

“That’s the understatement of the year,” she said.

Kellen was starting to cry next to her. She felt the need to shed some tears too but was going to try to be strong for him.

Right now, she just wanted to understand.

“For now, your mother will live in the house with you. She’s home more and has more traditional hours. None of those things will change. My apartment is a mile away. I’ll still be at all your school functions and events like always.”

“You’re just not going to be living here?” she asked. “Like you’ll be friends instead? You want us to believe that you’ve been married almost twenty years and now are just going to part ways with no issues?”

“That is exactly right,” her mother said. “Now if you don’t have any more questions, I’ll get dinner on the table.”

“Dad’s staying for dinner?” Kellen asked.

“I am,” her father said. “Your mother made my favorite. I’m going to go change and then will help set the table.”

Kellen got up and ran upstairs; Regan went after him.

“Tell me that was a joke,” her younger brother said. “Pinch me right now.”

Her brother pinched his own arm and yelped.

“It’s not,” she said. “I don’t know what is going on. Everyone always said Mom and Dad were the perfect couple. They don’t fight. They are always together for everything for us. They weren’t even upset or mad just now.”

“No,” Kellen said. “Something isn’t right. Or are they that cold and calculating?”

“I don’t know anything,” she said. She wiped her hand under her nose. 

She didn’t understand how her parents could just come to this decision as if it were what kind of fruit to buy this week. Then just casually tell their children it was time to try kiwis rather than apples.

Because Kellen was right. Her parents always appeared…perfect.

Everyone said it.

They didn’t fight.

They were always together.

They weren’t even acting upset now.

What the hell was she missing and why did it feel as if nothing in her world would ever make sense again?

She starts as his neighbor, but she’ll end up being the woman who steals his heart that he must protect at all costs!

Zander Conway is better off working alone. He follows the rules when he wants to and will always get the job done. Like the new woman renting the office next to his. She catches his eye fast and furious and nothing can shift it away. He’s going to win her over because he refuses to fail.

Dr. Regan Philes only cares about helping her patients through any means necessary, even if some of those ways are risky. She has focused so much on her career that her personal life took a backseat. When her new office ends up next door to a sexy private investigator, she learns that she can’t always be the one calling the shots and making the plans.

When Regan takes one risk too many, Zander must see through the honeymoon phase of love and put his foot down to save her, even if she doesn’t think she needs it.

Is there anything sexier than a single father protecting his daughter at all costs from his celebrity status?

Jameson Wilde has a reputation as outgoing as his last name. When his world as an NFL hotshot crashes around him, he does the only thing he can. He grows up and takes responsibility for his actions.

Laken Carlisle has worked behind the scenes to prove to her big brother that she is where she belongs. She never wants to let down the man who all but raised her when her father passed away.

But when her new assignment is to work with someone in the spotlight, is she ready for the world to see her—and witness the fact she is falling in love with Jamie?

If you haven’t read the prologue, start here.

Chapter One

A Dream Come True 

Six Months Later

“Is this the excitement you signed up for volunteering?” Carter asked Aster at the volunteer fire department on the first of October in Stonington, Connecticut. 

“It beats some of the things I’ve done in my life,” he said.

He never thought he’d move to the East Coast, least of all the small tourist town of Mystic.

But when life changed so drastically for him six months ago, his military career had sadly ended.

For a man who figured he’d be serving in the Army until the day he died or retired, managing construction and maintenance for a company that produced floral products was…a dream come true.

Not many knew his love for flowers. Something simple, sweet, delicate, and clean. Fresh.

It felt like he didn’t have a lot of those things in his life.

But when his old commander, Zane Wolfe, heard about what happened to him, Zane reached out and all but begged him to come work for his construction company.  Then Aster got hired by Zane’s wife, Lily, who was trying to take the load off of Zane since they had a third child coming.

He never looked back even though he had a few million in the bank for his heroic efforts and a lot of attention on him to boot. Something he never wanted in life.

Maybe that was why he left as soon as he could. He hated all the chatter and noise around him.

Not just from those in his hometown but also from his parents who wouldn’t shut up about it to everyone they knew. Like they were the ones that’d done what he had, rather than birthed him and pretty much let him raise himself.

“But showing kids around the fire trucks?” Carter asked. “Even I can’t stand doing this. Half of them have runny noses and are wise guys.”

“Weren’t we all wise guys at that age?” he asked. He knew he was. Maybe he did some of it for attention, but his parents only thought it was funny. Almost encouraged it at some points.

He’d told Zane he wanted to volunteer when he moved here and his buddy had been all for it knowing the community needed it and told Aster to do what he wanted and when he had to. Aster always made the time up, that was never an issue. But right now with the expansion being built on the manufacturing plant, they didn’t start until later in the day and worked into the night so that they didn’t disrupt production for Blossoms.

Once they got past this phase they could go back to working normal hours, but for now, he had some time this morning for this. 

“I was,” Carter said, “but my mother would knock it out of me if I got too carried away.”

Aster snorted. “I didn’t have that worry.” His mother would have had to be around enough for that. 

“Here they come,” Carter said.

He looked out the window and saw the school bus pull up. He’d been on a few calls for fires, but in his mind, this would be more fun.

He’d always liked kids even if he wasn’t around them much.

In the service, when he was in another country, he’d try to learn some of the language enough to entertain the kids in the villages they were protecting when he wasn’t on missions.

He’d be out kicking or throwing balls with them. It lightened up the day in an otherwise horrible situation.

The bus came to a stop and the doors opened, one by one kids climbed out in single file. He’d been told there’d be three grades, kindergarten through second grade on this trip.

There were maybe fifty kids in total. Not very big classrooms for that.

“Everyone line up with your classroom, please,” he heard an older woman say. There were groups of three behind whom he assumed were the teachers.

His eyes went to one that didn’t look to be much taller than maybe a sixth grader. 

She had light brown hair that was past her shoulders, but he couldn’t see how long from the front. Her hair was tucked behind her ears and she had very little makeup on. She wore tan cotton pants, an olive green fleece that fit her petite body zipped up and a pair of brown flats on her feet.

“Ms. Scarsdale, I’ve got to go to the bathroom,” one kid yelled. It was in the classroom of the teacher he’d been looking at.

“Tyler, I asked if everyone had to go before we left,” Ms. Scarsdale said. “Did you not go?”

“I didn’t think I had to go then,” Tyler said.

Aster saw the young teacher’s shoulders drop. “I can show you where the bathroom is,” he said.

“Go on,” the older teacher said. “I’ll keep an eye on the group.”

“While your classmate is going to the bathroom, why don’t I bring you all over to the fire truck and show you some of the fun things we get to play with on it?” Carter said.

For a guy who said he didn’t like kids that much, he could hear the laughter of the kids and the horn going off as he walked Tyler and his teacher into the building.

“Thank you,” she said. “I should have known this would happen even though I asked the kids multiple times. If I had more time I would have made them all line up and try to go before we left.”

Tyler went into the bathroom while Aster stayed outside the door with Ms. Scarsdale. “You can’t make the body go if it’s not ready.”

“No,” she said, grinning. “I just hope he’s not staring at the wall and then says he has to go again in twenty minutes because he couldn’t right now.”

“Want me to pop my head in there and take a listen?” he asked.

“This is horrible, but could you?”

He moved closer to the door, pushed it open and leaned in, saw the boy at the stall and heard the tinkle into the urinal.

“He’s going,” he said.

“Thank God,” she said. When the door opened a second later and Tyler rushed out, she asked, “Did you wash your hands?”

“Oops,” Tyler said and turned back to do it.

“Want me to check on that too?” he asked.

“I’ve got it covered,” she said, pulling out hand sanitizer from her pocket. “Germs are a big thing with me.”

He raised his eyebrow at her. “Maybe teaching kids wasn’t the best career path then.”

“I’m not that bad,” she said, smiling. Her eyes lit up like it was a joke of some kind. “Just that I don’t want them getting each other sick, and since they are six, they don’t necessarily do what they are told or do it well.”

Tyler came out of the bathroom wiping his wet hands on his jeans even though Aster knew there were paper towels in there.

When Tyler held his hands out to his teacher, Aster realized this was a classroom norm.

She spritzed the sanitizer on Tyler’s hands and he rubbed them together for a count of five and then ran toward the group of his classmates that could be seen through the big window.

“You must go through a lot of that stuff.”

“I do,” she said. “But the kids like the way it smells and want to use it.”

He’d noticed it wasn’t one of the plain generic kinds that the school districts most likely provided. It looked like a bottle of the stuff produced at the plant he worked at.

“That’s a good way to get them to use it,” he said, opening the door for her to walk out and join her students.

He moved past her and helped Carter talk about the fire truck, then gave a tour of the firehouse and let the kids try to pick up hoses and honk some horns, even sprayed water at targets for the kids to see how fast and hard the water came out.

The kids were giggling, the teachers were smiling, but he only had eyes for the young Ms. Scarsdale.

Though he didn’t think she was all that young. She could just look it because she was so small.

At the end of the two hours, the kids were on the bus and he and Carter returned the firehouse to shape before he changed out of his gear and back into his work clothes.

“That was one of the best school visits ever,” Carter said. “You should do them all. I never thought to put the target up and try to spray it.”

“Kids just like to be engaged,” he said. It was the simple things he learned from his years in the service. In many of those poor countries, the kids barely had more than two changes of clothing, and toys were few and far between.

Maybe he used some of his money to buy stuff for the community center. He didn’t have enough to give every family or every child something, but he could keep the activity centers full when he was there.

It’s not like he had much more to do with it and he wasn’t going to give it to his parents to waste on partying with their friends.

“So I noticed,” Carter said. “I’ll use that next time I have to do one of these.”

Aster left after that and went to the plant. 

“How did it go?” Zane asked him. The crews were just getting to work, and though he didn’t work for Zane’s construction company anymore, he joined in to try to get this expansion done. Lily might be his boss, but she’d deferred his work at this point to fall under Zane.

He might have found it confusing, but since Zane was the one who oversaw all the maintenance on the building anyway, he had to start somewhere.

He was slowly getting everything in order and set up in a good routine. The floor and shift managers were learning to come to him with concerns or problems with machines. He’d been able to fix most on his own, or with a few calls to the companies. Something Zane hadn’t had the time to do and it would halt production.

“It was good,” he said. “The kids were laughing the whole time.”

“You always were good that way,” Zane said. “I want to say I’m surprised you don’t have a few yourself by now, but you’d have to settle down for that. Unless you’ve got a few out there you don’t know about.”

He laughed when Zane said that. There was always this ease and comfort he had around people he knew well. Those he didn’t, he kept it in more. 

“Not that I’m aware of,” he said. “And yeah, I never felt like I could put some woman through the life.” 

Though he had to admit he never shut off the possibility of finding a wife and having kids, just didn’t get lucky enough to find one strong enough for it.

“I know that,” Zane said.

He knew Zane’s history with his ex and how Zane had to leave the service before his time too because of his daughter, Willow. Zane was a few years older than him, so he hadn’t served with him for that long. But coming to the area and connecting not just with Zane but also with Luke Remington had felt almost like a homecoming that he needed in his life when he was lucky to even be alive.

“Speaking of kids,” he said, “how is the baby sleeping?”

“She’s only getting up once a night now. Lily never lets me deal with it. Says since she’s still on leave, I should be the one to sleep.”

“Is she really on leave?” he asked. 

“No,” Zane said. “No matter how much her sisters tell her to take the time off. At least she’s not going into the office but rather doing work from home. Staff come to her more than anything. Not much I can do about it. She’s as stubborn as me.”

He grinned. “You’d have her no other way.”

“I wouldn’t,” Zane said.

“Time to get to work and get this expansion done for her then,” Aster said. The two of them got their tool belts on and he got right to the hard labor that he loved to do.

If his body was working, his brain would focus on that and not on the life he’d thought he’d have and left behind.

At least he was starting to feel less like a fish out of water.

Prologue

Aster walked into the living room of the small ranch house he grew up in. On leave, he had nowhere else to go. It’s not like he owned any property and he went where the Army sent him. He’d arrived yesterday afternoon and had to figure out what to do with himself for two weeks.

“Hey,” his sister Daphne said, opening the front door. “Did you just get up?”

“No,” he said. “Why would you ask that?”

It was almost four in the afternoon. “Your hair is wet like you just got out of the shower. I know you’re not sleeping much. I heard you walking around last night. I thought now that everyone was out of the house and it was quiet you could sleep.”

His younger sister by six years was good at catching things like that. 

“It’s all good,” he said. “I’m not used to getting that much sleep. I’ve been cleaning up some. Or trying to.”

He looked at the comical expression on his sister’s face. “If you clean too much then Mom and Dad won’t do anything.”

“Like they ever do,” he said. 

The living room had been littered with dirty dishes and plates, ashtrays too. It drove him nuts, but nothing he could do about it. He’d grown up like this. The amount of dust in the corners and on the windowsills was making him sneeze just walking into the room worse than when he’d been deployed in the desert for a year.

“Some things never change,” Daphne said. “And speaking of changing, I’ve got to be at work in a few hours and I’d like to get out of these clothes.”

His sister worked two jobs. Full time at a daycare center that paid shit, then she was a waitress a few nights a week. He knew she hated doing that, but she made more at her part-time job and needed the full-time one for benefits.

“I was going to see if there was anything to make for dinner,” he said. It’s not like he’d done much checking of things yesterday. Daphne had picked him up at the airport because his parents couldn’t be bothered to take time off of work to do it. He hated that his sister was going to use her time off for that and offered to get an Uber.

“Good luck,” she said. “There might be pizza leftover that Mom brought home last night.”

“No,” he said. “I picked up the empty boxes this morning and heard Mom and Dad talking about bringing them for lunch.” He hadn’t been able to sleep with all the noise in the house and he was too jet lagged to sleep when he went to bed last night. He’d probably crash tonight.

“What did you eat for lunch?” Daphne asked.

“Coffee and toast,” he said, shrugging.

“That’s not much of a lunch. I’m going to change.”

Aster moved to the small kitchen that he’d spent three hours cleaning earlier and repairing loose handles and a leaky sink. That was him—he was a fixer of pretty much anything. He’d want to say he got that from his father who worked maintenance for one of the oil companies in the area, but his father never fixed anything that he wasn’t paid to do.

He opened the fridge and saw it didn’t have much more than condiments on the shelf that looked months past expiration. There was a full shelf of beer because they were never short on that in this house, but food was slim pickings like when he was growing up.

They never went hungry; his parents picked up takeout if they couldn’t throw together spaghetti and sauce from a jar. They weren’t poor; his parents were just lazy. The older he got, he’d make what he could from what he could find. 

He opened the freezer next and there was nothing but ice cream, frozen dinners, and a couple of bottles of vodka. 

“Find anything?” Daphne asked. She was in shorts and a T-shirt right now. He was positive it wasn’t her work uniform because she complained about the men looking at her chest even though it gave her bigger tips, so she sucked it up.

A few times he’d transferred money into her account without her knowledge. It’s not like he had anything to spend his salary on and had more in the bank than he ever thought he would.

Daphne would only reach out and give him hell, but he didn’t care. He had enough guilt that he should have stayed around to care for her. He’d needed to get out of the area before he got sucked in and never left.

“No,” he said. “I’m going to run to the store and get a few things. What are you in the mood for?”

“Anything you get that isn’t frozen is great. I gave up buying things and leaving them in the fridge. Mom and Dad would eat them on me.”

Aster sighed. He knew Daphne paid rent to live here, but she didn’t make enough to live on her own. The fact that she was doing that and his parents were still eating the food his sister bought for herself was selfish. 

“You should keep it in a fridge in your room,” he said.

“I have a mini fridge in there,” she said, grinning. “I keep lunch foods and some things in there, but even then Mom has grabbed food out of it when I’m not around.”

He rolled his eyes. “Why am I not surprised? I’ll at least stock up while I’m here.”

“That’s your choice,” Daphne said. 

“I’ll be back in twenty minutes if I can use your car?”

She grabbed the keys that were on the counter. “It’s your car, not mine.”

He’d left it here for her. It’s not like it was a new car, but it was free for his sister and he never thought of it as his at this point. 

He drove to the store and parked. It wasn’t that busy at this time on a Tuesday. Barely four and he’d get in and out quickly.

When he was walking around he noticed some young girl on her phone the whole time. She appeared out of place to him. Too fancy for the likes of this area with her diamond bracelet and earrings that stood out more than they should. Her long blonde hair was perfectly styled, her nails professionally done with designs on them as her fingers typed into the phone.

She didn’t seem to know where things were either as if the grocery store was foreign to her. 

She’d passed him a few times, almost zigzagging while her face was buried in the screen.

The third time he’d seen her he noticed the same guy watching her too. Older, dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt, a hat on his head and pulled down low so his face was shielded.

He felt tingles up his spine and had to tell himself to shut his brain off and not be looking for enemies lurking in corners but rather ground beef for dinner.

By the time he checked out with a few bags of things, the girl had five items and was being rung up next to him.

He was putting his cart in the stall and grabbing his two bags when a black van came speeding toward the front door just as the girl was walking out not paying attention.

The man that had been following behind rushed the girl to shove her into the van, but Aster was close enough to jump in and start fighting the guy off as the girl was screaming and kicking and putting up one hell of a struggle to not be taken.

He yanked her out of the way and shoved her to the ground, then threw punch after punch as he was yelling, “Run!” to her. She wasn’t moving, and before he knew it, the guy he’d been fighting off pulled out a gun and all he felt was a burning pain in his chest.

Then he hit the pavement and blacked out.

Aster Allen is a true hero. But with that unwanted title comes a career change he didn’t plan on and a lot more stress he doesn’t need.

A job offer from his old Army Commander ends up being his savior, forcing him to move to a small town where few know him or his background. And maybe he’d like to keep it that way.

Raine Scarsdale is sick of being labeled and judged by her career and upbringing. But living in the small tourist town of Mystic makes that almost impossible. She just wants to be who she is and finally has a chance when she meets a newcomer to the area.

The only problem, it seems too good to be true, just like her last serious relationship, when she starts to suspect Aster’s not always forthcoming with his personal history.

If you haven’t ready the Prologue, check it out now!

Chapter One

An Embarrassing Situation 

Ten Years Later

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

“I’m not sure this is an emergency, but I didn’t know who else to call,” Kelsey Raymond said.

She was on her hands and knees in her backyard on her lunch hour and looking under her deck as best as she could with a flashlight.

Her heart was racing, her palms were sweating and clinging to the grass while she was trying not to curse and swear at the same time.

“Why don’t you tell me what is going on and we’ll figure it out,” the nice calm male voice said.

“Mr. Franklin is stuck under my deck,” she said in a panic when a loud whine echoed under it.

“Sounds like an emergency to me,” the man said. “What’s your location?” She read off her address to him. “I’ll dispatch fire and police.”

Oh shit! This was turning into an embarrassing situation. It’d be her luck a family member would show up.

“No need to bring in the cavalry,” she said. Another whine came out. “Oh, he’s crying. Mr. Franklin, I’m sorry. But you shouldn’t have run through that hole.”

What the hell was wrong with her to not think about patching that up?

“He ran through a hole?” the man said. “Is he hurt? Can you see him?”

“I don’t think he’s hurt,” she said. “I can’t see him.” She knew her breathing was more rapid than normal. Her parents and brother told her she wouldn’t be able to handle this. It was all the more reason to prove them wrong.

Except they weren’t all that wrong. 

“Try to relax. What’s your name?” the man asked. “Help is on the way.”

She’d been hearing typing and was put on hold for a brief second. Now she was starting to panic the more whimpering that came through the cracks.

“Kelsey,” she said. “My name is Kelsey.”

“Okay, Kelsey. Tell me what happened. I’d like to get as much information as I can.”

She was trying to rewind it in her mind, but she really couldn’t.

“We were outside playing and then something caught his eye and he went right for the deck. Before I could figure out what he might do, he was crawling under it.”

“Playing?” the male asked. “Is Mr. Franklin a child?”

There was more typing to that and she could imagine he was passing on all the information to the police and fire or whoever was on the way.

“What?” she asked. “No. Mr. Franklin is my puppy. Sorry. I should have said that. I told you I didn’t think it was an emergency, but it’s not like I can fit under the deck myself to get him.”

“A puppy?” the man asked.

“Yes,” she said. “This is embarrassing, but I guess it’s no different than a cat in a tree. But I can’t fit under the deck so not sure how any man is going to.”

Her voice rose. She would have called her brother, but he was working and Duke would never fit. He’d just start pulling the wood siding off to get there.

Maybe that was what she should have done. But she didn’t want to scare the puppy any more than it was either.

“When there is a will there is a way,” the man said. “Have you tried coaxing him out with a toy or a favorite treat?”

Why the hell hadn’t she thought of that?

 “No,” she said. “Good idea. But then I have to leave him and if I leave to go get something, he might sneak out and I could lose him in the yard.”

“But he was loose to get under there?” the man asked.

“Yes. My yard is fenced in.” She knew she wasn’t making sense. “But there are trees and bushes. What if he comes out and hides in a bush next?”

“He’ll be found if that is the case. Do you have a toy in the yard? You said you were playing.”

“Oh,” she said. “Yes, there is a ball that squeaks. I just came home for lunch so he could go out and expend some energy.”

She jumped up and ran to where she’d thrown the ball last. She liked to get some excess energy out of him before she brought him to the office. If she was out running around or in meetings, she kept the puppy home, but she’d be in the office all afternoon today.

She was jogging around the yard barefoot since she’d kicked her shoes off once her mischievous pup took off on her.

What she hadn’t expected to do was step in something warm and squishy and then slip and right herself.

She swore loudly. “Are you okay?” the male voice asked.

“Yes,” she said. “I just slipped in his most recent deposit on my lawn. I wasn’t thinking.” She was good about picking it up as it occurred, but everything was happening so fast that she didn’t stop to get the shovel.

It’s not like she thought the pup would dash under her damn deck.

There was silence on the other end and the typing stopped. “I’ll omit that part from the report.”

“Thank you for that,” she said drily.

“Help is two minutes out,” he said. 

“Great,” she said. “I’ve got the toy.” She dashed back to the opening in the deck making sure she sidestepped the pile of shit she’d stepped in moments ago and tried not to gag that every step pushed more stink between her toes.

She was squeaking the ball as she ran so she was positive the guy on the other end could figure that out himself.

“Good,” the man said. “Now just calmly call his name while you squeeze it. If you’re in a panic he will be too. Dogs can sense that.”

“So I’m learning,” she mumbled. “Mr. Franklin. Come get your toy. That’s it, come get it.” She kept repeating the same thing again and again as calmly as she could, but it wasn’t working. “Mr. Franklin!”

“Yelling won’t help,” the man said. “Keep trying to engage in a playful voice.”

She knew her face turned bright red. She felt the heat of it. Who was this guy? “I wasn’t snapping at him,” she said. “I was swearing. You wouldn’t understand.”

There was more silence on the other end. “You’re doing well, Kelsey. Not much longer. Help is rounding the corner now.”

“At least they don’t have their sirens on,” she said. It was the last thing she needed. Not that she was positive any of her neighbors were home, but the fewer witnesses to this the better.

“No,” the man said. “No reason to scare your pup anymore than he is.”

“But it’s okay to scare me,” she said. She was still squeaking the toy and calling her dog, but it wasn’t helping.

“Help should be on the scene now. Do you hear anyone?”

“Yes,” she said. “I hear voices over a radio and a car door. We’ll be good now. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Kelsey. Hope your pup is okay.”

“Me too,” she said and hung up the phone only to turn and see her cousin Alex Bond standing there grinning at her while she was on her hands and knees in a skirt. Alex’s eyes dropped to her shit-covered bare foot and then back to her face.

“Looks like the pup is getting the better of you,” Alex said. 

“Figured you’d be here first,” she said. 

“I was the closest,” Alex said. “I heard the address come over the radio. Once I realized it was a puppy and his name, I knew who it had to be.”

“Very funny,” she said. “Is anyone else coming to witness my calamity of errors?”

“Just me for the moment,” Alex said. “If we can’t get him out, then I’ll see if I can get Carter here. We know he’s good with dogs. If he brings Dopey or Doc, maybe Mr. Franklin will want to come out and play. Otherwise, I’ll bring the fire trucks in and we’ll start pulling the deck out a few boards at a time.”

Carter Bond was Alex’s first cousin who owned a garage on the island. Alex worked there on his off days. Carter was not only known for his two St. Bernard dogs that stayed at the garage daily but also was married to the island vet.

Maybe Kelsey had it in her mind she could have a companion like that too.

One to bring to work and then keep her company at night.

It’s not like she was having any luck looking for another male species.

“Frankie,” she said. “We can call him that now that I’m calming down and know I’m not alone.”

Alex laughed even harder. “Good lord, Kelsey.” Alex grabbed the ball and got down on his knees. His black dress pants in his captain’s uniform were going to get dirty, but she supposed that was part of the job.

Alex squeaked the ball a few times and called out.

“I’ll go get some treats. Maybe that will help.”

“Sure,” Alex said. “You might want to wipe your foot off before you walk in the house.”

She walked to the grass and wiped off as much as she could and held in the gag as she envisioned it going under her toenails.

The hose was close by so she turned it on and started to rinse her foot off. Her puppy must have seen the water from where he was holed up and the next thing she knew Frankie was darting out and over to the hose and licking the water.

She dropped the hose and picked up her little fugitive. “You were a bad boy, Mr. Franklin.”

“What happened to Frankie?” Alex asked.

“Right now he’s Mr. Franklin.” She was hugging the puppy to her chest, feeling the silky fur against her face, all the while checking him over for any injuries.

“Are we good now?” Alex asked.

“Yes,” she said. “I don’t see any issues here other than my baby is a mess. He needs to at least be wiped down. I don’t have time to bathe him.” The signature long soft ears of her Cavalier King Charles Spaniel were coated in dust and cobwebs. There might be bugs on him too. She held him at arm’s length when that popped into her head.

“Then I’ll return to the inspection I was doing.”

“Thanks, Alex. I don’t suppose we can keep this to ourselves?”

Alex laughed even harder. “Considering it’s on public record, nope. Besides, I’m positive you’re going to be telling it to people anyway. Need to explain your wardrobe change returning to work.”

She looked down and saw the grass and dirt on her skirt. Her shirt was untucked and wrinkled on top of it.

There might be dirt on her peach shirt too.

“You’re right,” she said. “I guess now that I’m calmed down and Frankie is safe, it is funny.”

“Sure made my day,” Alex said. “When I’m done with the inspection, I’ll cover up that hole for you. I’ve got some scraps of wood at the house and can just temporarily nail it in place until he’s bigger.”

“Thanks, Alex. I owe you one.” And this would save her from having to do it herself or asking someone to do it for her.

Her cousin left after that. She and her pup went into the house. She set him down and he ran for his bowl. Poor pup was probably hot under the deck and now was draining the water as fast as he could.

She went to her room on the first floor of her house. Frankie couldn’t get up the stairs as she had it blocked off by a gate. She didn’t go up there much either but no reason to have the newest addition to her house making a mess since he liked to explore.

When she was coming out of her room in a blue shirt and another black skirt that was close enough she hoped no one noticed the change, she found the dog still drinking water. At least Frankie was occupied enough that she could wash her foot off better in the bathroom connected to her room.

Next, she wet a washcloth and gave her dog a quick little wipe down, then made a sandwich, ate it while she walked outside to get her shoes and carefully looked on the ground.

After her sandwich was done, she gathered her pup, put his collar on him and clipped the leash, then left to return to the office.

Frankie was always a big hit when she brought him in. Maybe she should just do it every day at this point and someone would watch him while she was out.

She just didn’t want to have to ask her staff to babysit and shouldn’t have to.

She had no one to blame but herself for this mishap. 

“There is the little guy,” Kara said when she set the puppy down. Frankie went running to her receptionist, his long copper-colored ears blowing in the wind like a model in front of a fan. No dust or cobwebs in sight. “He’s just so stinking cute.”

“Yeah,” she all but snarled. “Cute.”

“Oh no,” Kara said. “What happened? You changed your shirt.”

Alex was right. She was going to tell everyone what happened because it was too funny not to.

“Well,” she said. “There was this small hole on the side of my deck…”

Prologue

“Why are you standing by yourself in here?”

Van Harlowe turned to look at his father. “Because it’s quiet and I can be left alone.”

His father snorted. “You’ll be left alone plenty just like me when this is done,” his father said. “You can get your ass out there and greet people. Most are going to be your mother’s friends or coworkers or people from the force paying their respects to you.”

He didn’t need his father to tell him those things. He’d been to more than one funeral during his four years on the police force.

Four years as an officer, and if there was one thing he hated, it was a funeral.

He never expected he’d be attending one for his mother this soon.

“I know,” he said. “I’ve got time.”

“Not as much as you always think,” his father said, then turned and left.

He didn’t want to get into a pissing match today, but he was holding it in as best as he could.

His mother had been sick for less than a year. No one thought it’d come to this, though they’d been told. They hoped otherwise, but it didn’t happen.

Between him and his father, they cared for Lauren Harlowe the best they could.

More him than his father, but he got it. It wasn’t easy to see your wife suffering, even if that man had been an ass to the woman he was grieving for publicly. 

Van waited a few more minutes and then walked outside to get some fresh air.

The last thing he expected to see was his father talking to a woman that he’d never seen before. Or the woman to hug his father and kiss him on the lips. Not a consoling one. But more on the sexual line.

He opened the door to storm back in when his father turned and caught his eye.

There was no time for them to talk and it was for the best or he might deck the guy that he’d butted heads with for more than half his life.

The funeral director came up to him and told him they were opening the door. It’s not like there was any other family here. None of his mother’s because she’d cut them out of her life before he was born. The bits and pieces he’d heard told him that his mother’s parents were more controlling than his father was.

His father was an only child and Adam Harlowe’s parents had passed years ago. 

One by one, people came up to him at the casket, many he knew from his mother’s job. She was well liked and always had been.

Not his father. Not many could stand the guy and he always wondered why his mother stayed with him. Sure, his father put a polite face on in public, but an idiot could see through it. 

At the end of the night, one of his mother’s friends was still there. Fiona had been sitting in the chair all night and talking to people as they came in, keeping an eye on him but staying back. 

Fiona and his father didn’t always get along.

“I’m so sorry,” Fiona said, coming up to him. His father had gone off to talk to the funeral director. “I thought for sure your mother’s father would have been here. She’d hoped he might come.”

“What?” he asked. This was all news to him. “Did my mother talk to her father?”

“You don’t know?” Fiona asked, angling her head to the side.

“Know what?” he asked as the two of them walked outside.

“That your mother asked your father to contact her father last week right before she slipped into a coma. She fought until the end, you know that.” Fiona wiped her eyes. “I think she thought she’d be fine and could do it herself.”

“I had no idea,” he said. Why wouldn’t his mother ask him to do it? He’d been caring for her more than his father lately. He was the more reliable of the two, but he just figured his father needed a break. It’d been a rough year for everyone.

“She couldn’t find his information or where he could be. Toward the end she was more confused and I wonder if she even had it and forgot. But she did say she thought he still lived in Boston where he always was, but your mother was in no shape to find him. I offered, but she said no, that your father would be able to. She was adamant it be him. I’m guessing whatever was between them couldn’t be mended prior.”

“Guess not,” he said softly.

Fiona took her leave and he went back inside. There’d be no gathering afterward. His father had said his mother didn’t want it. He wasn’t so sure about that, but it wasn’t his place to argue.

“We need to talk,” he said to his father when he saw him coming out of the back office.

“Not now,” his father said. “We just buried your mother.”

“We’re talking,” he said firmly. “At the house. If you’re not there behind me, I’ll find you and we’ll do it in front of anyone around.”

He turned and stalked off. 

At six foot two and two hundred and twenty pounds, not many messed with him. Being a law enforcement officer had nothing to do with it either.

Van was a guy who didn’t say much and hardly ever smiled.

He went about life doing what needed to be done. No nonsense, his mother often said. It was the quiet ones you always watched out for—his mother had told him that more than once too. 

After a deep breath, he went to his truck and drove to his childhood home in Wichita. His father was right behind and they got out together and went into the house.

“I can explain,” his father started to say.

“I don’t give a shit about any explanations. Yes or no answers are all I care about. Have you been cheating on Mom?”

“Listen, Van.”

“No!” he shouted. “Answer me.”

“It’s not a simple answer.”

“Fuck that. It is. Yes or no?”

“Yes,” his father said, grinding his teeth.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t deck you right now,” he said.

“Because it solves nothing,” his father said. “It’s not your business. I’ve been there for your mother for the last year and caring for her day and night and you know it. I never left her side.”

“Don’t give me any of that shit to ease your conscience. You knew she was dying. If you couldn’t wait and keep your dick in your pants until she passed, then you’ve got to live with that.”

He turned to leave. “You’ll never understand because you’ve always been a Mama’s boy. You’ve always believed everything she’s said without listening to anyone else.”

“Yeah, there was a reason for it,” Van said. “The same reason everyone thought she was a sweetheart and you were a piece of shit. Guess you had no problem living up to it.”

“Don’t talk to me like that in my home,” his father snarled.

“That’s right,” he said. “It’s your home. Everything is yours. You made sure to always rub that in Mom’s face even though she had a job and worked too.”

“She was a Goddamn secretary for the city. She didn’t make shit. I supported you and her and you both knew it. I’ve got every right to say this is my house.”

“I’m out of here,” he said. “I can’t deal with you or this or anyone else.”

“That’s right,” his father shouted. “Run away like you always did. Mom used to let you go and that was her mistake. For as big and tough as you are or want everyone to think, you’re nothing but a pussy inside. You can’t handle anything and never could.”

He walked up to his father and lifted him by the shirtfront. His father was five inches shorter and fifty pounds lighter. Van never could figure out where he got his height and build from.

“You don’t know me. You never even made the effort to do it,” he said. “So you can keep your damn opinions to yourself and go on with your life. I hope you can live with yourself.”

He tossed his father aside and stalked out the door knowing that he’d probably never return.

The last remaining family he had in this world was gone in his eyes.

He supposed it was true that he was a loner in more ways than one.