Carrying a carton full of brochures for the Double M, Meghan wound her way through the clutter of work trucks and vehicles clogging the Villa’s driveway. Draegyn and Caleb were supervising a large team of workmen as the latest restoration and redesign project of the stately home created all sorts of daily havoc.

She’d been holed up in the old business center with Betty for more than an hour as they bitched, grumbled, and spat over the shit-tacular print job on the latest brochure. It was time to find a new vendor. Someone who wouldn’t colorize her hard work and make it look like a daycare newsletter.

The absolute very second she squeezed through the kitchen door, a squeal of delight tore from her mouth. Carmen was home!

“Mamita,” she cried a little too loud. “Where are you, woman? Show yourself!”

Flinging the carton onto a chair, she looked around the kitchen and saw a box of goodies from Georgetown Cupcake and a stack of gift boxes from a shop Parker and Domineau swore made the best fudge on the planet.

“Meesus!”

Whipping around so fast she nearly lost her balance, Meghan yipped and threw herself into Carmen’s waiting arms. They hugged it out and then began hopping around like little girls.

“I’m so happy you rushed home. I’ve missed you!”

Carmen blushed and lost whatever dignity she came home with. “I’ve missed you and the babies! Alexander? Not so much.”

They laughed over and over.

“Where’s Duke?” Meghan asked. “And Paul. When do we meet him?”

With a smirk that filled Meghan with joy, Carmen replied in perfect English. “They’ve gone into town for haircuts.”

Meghan’s brows bumped. “Excuse me, what?”

Carmen’s wry expression was one for the record books. Nobody did eye-rolling mockery quite like she did.

“Haircuts. It’s a guy thing, or so I’m told. They shook hands about it.”

“What am I missing?” she asked with a smile.

“Well,” she starchily began, “Duke has an issue with being clean cut. Well groomed. No sagging pants or questionable manners. Paul is on board, but the boy already has his grandpa wrapped around his little finger. I think the ponytail will be gone when they get back.”

“Whoa. Wait.” She giggled. “This ponytail. Duke’s or Paul’s?”

They sniggered and fist-bumped.

“Why aren’t the babies here, Meesus?”

“Ah, well, MomMom and Papa Cris take them to story time at library, and they make a day of it. Just the four of them. Cris and Ash have round-the-clock access to Teo because they live together, and you know my mother-in-law. She wants all her grandchildren to have equal standing. Can’t wait till Angie pops and grandbaby number four joins the cousin cuddle.”

“Where’s your husband?”

“Brooding in his cave.”

They solemnly regarded one another and nodded together.

“Duke spent a day at the Pentagon. Justice business. He wasn’t in a pleasant mood after.”

“It’s not good,” she murmured. “You know about the enhanced security, right?”

Carmen let out a snort. “Well, I didn’t imagine Captain Sawyer showing up and taking over our travel arrangements was done as a courtesy. Paul was impressed.”

She chuckled. “A private plane makes quite an impact.”

A twinkle caught Meghan’s eye. She zeroed in on the source and screamed. “Oh my god, Carmen! Is that what I think it is?”

“Darn tootin’, as Abuelita liked to say,” she responded with happiness evident in every word.

Meghan wrapped an arm around the dear woman’s waist, put her head on Carmen’s shoulder, and stared at the engagement ring she held up to the light. It was simple and elegant—like the Spanish lady who wore it.

“When Eduardo comes for the holidays and to baptize Angelina’s child, he’s going to hear our vows. We don’t want it to interfere with Heather and Brody’s wedding, so it will be small. Dignified.”

A laugh started in Meghan’s gut and shot from her mouth. “Fuck no to dignified! Not gonna happen, missy! We don’t do anything half-assed around here. I mean, come on! Have you seen the celebration list for May? Our anniversary, a bunch of adult birthdays, and next year, four first birthdays! Four! Brody and Heather won’t flinch.” She laughed and hugged Carmen, saying, “This is going to be epic! Alex will be so delighted.”

“Oh,” Carmen added in what felt offhand and of no importance. “There’s something else. Duke has asked your father to stand with him.”

“Aw, that’s nice.” She chortled. Wait. Huh? “Say again?” she muttered.

“He’s asking Paul, of course, and Cristián to be his supporters. Even I was surprised when he included Paddy. They bonded when your parents were here. And guess what else?”

“There’s more?”

“Your papa is going to help Duke choose an RV so we can take Paul on adventures.”

Meghan’s jaw dropped. Then she laughed. Everything was working out perfectly.

Domineau glanced in the rear view, identified the security ride-along, and relaxed. She was driving Kori to school. The girl was taking advantage of a help class.

She didn’t mind and kind of looked forward to getting Kori to herself in a confined space where the kid couldn’t ignore her.

Things on the home front weren’t as fraught and tense as they had been when her roommates first moved in. Pywakett had a lot to do with the détente. The cat that hated everyone except Rafe made a second exception for the snarky kid. And since the grumpy preteen treated the shithead feline like royalty, that meant an unlikely alliance had developed. The more Py purred, the less Kori snarled.

Out of the blue, the kid grumbled a verbal shot. “I don’t like that new guy at the stable. Think he’s a dick.”

She didn’t have to wonder who Kori referred to. The new guy as she called him was Dr. James Hunter. The recently hired Justice veterinarian. In the span of a few days, the guy managed to put a knot in many undies.

Even Rafe nearly put the guy through a wall for no good reason. His excuse was some drivel about not respecting authority. Considering who made the judgment, this premise was so laughable that she wondered if her hulking boyfriend had lost his mind.

But regardless of that, Jamie Hunter was a dick. A giant, overblown, stick-up-his-butt dick. The man could be summed up in one short sentence. He hated people.

Glancing at Kori, Domineau shrugged. “Seems a bit much coming from the winner of Bendover’s resting bitch face competition. Are you a dick?”

The smartass kid had a fast answer. “Yes. A big one.”

Ah, she thought. How awesome. A convenient, teachable moment.

“Well, okay. Then let me ask you this. Have you always been a dick, or did something happen that made you this way?”

Kori grumbled, “Maybe it’s genetic. My dad’s a dick.”

“Nah, being dickish isn’t genetic, kid. It’s a fucking choice.”

This comment earned her a black glare. She sniggered. “You can practice the evil death ray all you want, but that shit bounces off me.”

The kid looked away but that didn’t stop Domineau from continuing.

“Don’t run away from your choices. Good or bad, they define who you are. Now, you little shit, since you brought it up, I get to say stuff and you have to listen.”

She turned onto the road that would take them to the school.

“Here’s how I see it. Your mom is a cool lady, and she loves the fuck out of you, so that makes me think you haven’t always been a nightmare.”

Though she tried to hide it, Domineau heard Kori’s laughter.

“I’ve spent plenty of time around military families. There’s a special kind of suck that comes along with serving. Some of the stuff that spouses and kids put up with blows chunks. I get it. Don’t know your dad or his family, but from what I’ve heard about what went down, you have every cause to wear the bitch panties. I salute you, kid. Fuck that asshole, right?”

Kori snorted and vehemently nodded.

“Okay, so …”

The school approach slowed with a parade of cars. She got in the long line of vehicles turning into the drop-off driveway.

“There’s a reason you’re a dick. Agreed?”

Another nod.

“So not genetic. A reaction.” Domineau arched a brow and put some emphasis on the last word. “Reaction isn’t the same as action. Reacting to fuckery is still a choice, but it isn’t self-inflicted.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” the kid agreed.

“Which brings us round again to the new guy being a dick. He wasn’t born that way, Kori. Just like you, something happened to make him an asshole. Cut the guy some slack, okay?”

“Oh,” she murmured. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

When it was their turn at the curb, she pulled her truck into the next spot and helped Kori get her stuff together as she exited the vehicle.

“Good talk,” she teased.

Kori rolled her eyes but managed a weak smile. “Thanks for the ride.”

Domineau waved her off and watched until the kid was safely inside the building. Kori didn’t know it, but everything from her backpack to her sneakers had tracking sensors. Cover net security had quite a reach.

When she exited the school drive, she noted the surveillance team that covered the kid and breathed a sigh of relief.

On the way to work, she stopped at a drive-through and got two fancy coffee drinks. This was her new thing. At the first sign of pumpkin latte on the menu, she lost her ever-loving mind. The salted caramel pushed her over the edge. She even jokingly submitted a proposal that Justice add a coffee service and traveling barista as a job perk. Jace approved the request even though he had no authority over her. When the official requisition form made its way to Betty’s desk, she took it a step further, did some research, and passed it along to Alex. When he’d shown up to discuss the matter, she nearly fell over laughing and tried to explain she was just messing with him.

Would have been funnier than shit any other time. The only thing was, the Major couldn’t find his sense of humor right now without the help of professional trackers.

She checked the time, drank half of the salted caramel coffee, tuned the radio to a classic vinyl station, and got back on the road. The car trailing her stayed far back. Cracking the window, she cranked the radio and belted out "Woman from Tokyo." Deep Purple was one of the bands her dad loved.

Her phone buzzed. She glanced at it and used the Bluetooth controls to show the screen. When a truly tacky picture of Shrek and Fiona costumes appeared, her laughter was spontaneous.

Rafe was trying to convince her that a couple’s costume for Halloween was in order. She wasn’t having it and kept trying to make it clear that Halloween wasn’t her thing.

He ignored her protests. They were a couple, goddammit, and dressing up like idiots was part of the fun.

Molly, of course, had her own ideas. She wanted Daddy to dress like royalty so she and Domineau could wear pretty dresses.

Dragging her feet about playing happy family had lasted about ten minutes. Nobody cared about her tired-ass shit, and maybe that was a good thing. If nothing else, it forced her to step up where Rafe’s daughter was concerned. The way she saw it, this was a great example of gorging on the cake and trying to ignore the icing. One without the other couldn’t be done.

Becoming annoyingly horny anytime Rafe popped into her thoughts, she squirmed and shifted. It was hard finding together time during the week. She was busy with work and so was Rafe. His schedule also included Molly’s dance classes and kid karate at the Double M.

Finding things to stay busy and out of trouble when driving him crazy wasn’t an option proved challenging. She could only change the oil in the Chevelle so many times.

Knowing how easy it was for her to go the fuck-up route if she had too much thinking time, she found easy distraction in social pursuits—another new wrinkle in her changing life.

Tonight, she was having dinner with Jason and Lacey. They made a habit of inviting her over, and after the first awkward occasion when she’d been affected by seeing her old friend relaxed and happy with his beautiful family, Domineau came to enjoy their times together.

It was also interesting to see another Justice warrior handle being a father to a daughter. Jason was a hands-on dad and clearly loved the family thing, but Lily Rose revealed his soft center. Seeing him with the sweet golden-haired cherub gave her a new perspective into what Rafe experienced raising Molly.

She sped to the Justice security gate and stood on the brakes, bringing her truck to a sharp stop. A cloud of desert dust swirled around the tires and gathered in the rearview.

The security guard on duty crossed his arms and eyeballed the distance between her truck’s front bumper and the lowered arm of the gate.

Grinning at the expression on his face, she elegantly flipped him off in the relative obscurity of her blacked-out tinting and rolled down her window.

“Only Mrs. St. John gets closer,” he announced when he walked up to the window and scanned her badge.

Used to being the only badass female in a world of men, she was still finding her place in the Justice ladies hierarchy. It was a bit daunting to take a number and get in line. Shit, even Stephanie Dane and her beauty queen wiggle had it going on. The lady rode like the wind and had some damn impressive Annie Oakley moves. When Domineau took charge of the women learning to shoot, the experience produced a couple of surprises, not the least of which was how fearless the whole bunch was.

“Chief Winston on duty today? A little birdie told me he was back.”

The guard nodded. “Yes, ma’am. He’ll be making the afternoon rounds.”

He finished the scan and opened the gate. She drove forward and veered toward the Justice compound. At the final checkpoint, she was all business and made sure to make the guards on duty shake in their shoes. Security was priority one these days. No slacking allowed.