The only light in the darkened kitchen was that cast by Jace’s laptop. He got up, flicked on the lights, poured himself another glass of whiskey, and returned to the kitchen table. Amanda’s life lay before him, detailed in comments and pictures on her Instagram. Two daughters, blonde and pretty. Anniversary shots of her and Jim, her husband—who was balding and somewhat overweight—not the sort of guy he’d have imagined for her. Their house in Maine. A trace of the girl she’d been was still evident in her face, but underneath the expertly applied makeup she’d aged.

He opened the direct messages pane, and re-read the messages she sent Rory.

‘Hi, Rory. I hope you don’t mind me contacting you, I’m your mother.’

Jeez, how must Rory have felt, getting that out of the blue? It was dated six weeks ago. Just about the time when Rory’s behavior had changed. When he started staying out later, and became less outgoing. More moody.

Rory’s reply: ‘Hello, Amanda.’

Then she launched right into it. ‘I’ve wondered about you for so many years. I wanted to see you, but your father and I don’t talk. When I found you here, I had to reach out.’

His hand gripped the glass tight, and then he slammed down another mouthful of the potent liquor. Yeah, Amanda. Make it my fault.

‘I’m married. I have been for the past twelve years, and have two kids, eight and five. Your half-sisters. I didn’t tell my husband about you until a month ago. I didn’t know how he’d react. He’s a kind man, though, and I needn’t have worried. He suggested I make contact. We’d love to see you.’

‘I need to talk to my dad about this.’ Rory’s reply came a couple of weeks after hers. He’d been thinking about how to respond. He’d been alone dealing with the emotions this must have brought to the surface. Or maybe not alone. Maybe Kenna had been aware, just as he’d been keeper of Kenna’s secrets.

Jace rubbed his fingers through his hair, massaging the scalp.

What he and Ally had done today—contacting Kenna and confronting her father—couldn’t threaten his son’s relationship. He needed someone: a confidant. He needed someone in his corner.

Once upon a time, he would have expected Rory to come to him instantly with something like this, but he couldn’t really blame Rory for keeping silent. They hadn’t talked about Amanda for years. There hadn’t been much to say.

I wanted to see you, but your father and I don’t talk. What a crappy, lame-ass, excuse. It insinuated that Jace wouldn’t want to hear from her. Wouldn’t want Rory to have contact. Over the years, Rory had needed to know that his mother cared, even if she couldn’t be involved in his life. But her continued absence, and silence, led both of them to form their own conclusions. That she didn’t. That she’d written off both of them the moment she walked away from him days after Rory’s birth and never looked back.

Jace didn’t want to have anything to do with her. But he couldn’t deny his son the chance to meet her. To know her. To know his step-sisters. Pain twisted a knot in his stomach. He tossed back the dregs of his whiskey, and slammed the laptop shut.

* * *

Why is it that when you have somewhere you long to be, the road seems long, and the journey endless? Ally’s mood soared and dipped as her underpowered car ate up the miles. Her mind ran over the possibilities, teasing out all the details of her future life as she drove. This year, she’d spend Christmas with family. She’d never be so alone, so isolated, again. But that was months away, maybe she’d have another family to join too. It seemed crazy to be making plans with a man she’d only just reconnected with, but she couldn’t stop her mind going there. Imagining a Christmas with a tree, and with Jace, Rory and even Kenna, sprawled around it. Opening presents.

She’d loved Christmas as a kid, but the last one had been so godawful, she suppressed the memory of loving it, making it instead just something to endure. Something to survive.

Now the future stretched. Bright, and full of possibilities.

Jace had said he wanted her to relocate to Shepherd’s Creek. To live nearby, until Rory was comfortable with the idea of their relationship. She’d thought it impossible, but tonight, all of that changed. Her heart was full of love. Overflowing with it. His idea, which at the time sounded preposterous, now sounded right. She couldn’t wait to see him again and tell him.

The house was in darkness. She climbed from the car, walked the path, and rang the doorbell.

She’d expected him to fling open the door, take her in his arms, and kiss the life out of her. But the reality was something different. First, she had to wait long moments before it opened. And when it did, Jace didn’t smile. Didn’t reach for her. Just stood there, with a look on his face she couldn’t decipher.

“I’m back.”

“You are.” He stepped aside to allow her to enter. He shoved his hands into his jeans’ pockets, shoulders hunched.

“How did the phone call to Rory go?” There was a bitter taste in her mouth. A shadow stealing over her heart.

“Not good.” He walked into the sitting room, and slumped down on the couch. A half-empty bottle of whiskey was on the table, and an empty glass.

She sat down next to him. “When’s he back?”

“Day after tomorrow.” He poured more whiskey into the glass. “Do you want one? There are glasses in the kitchen cupboard.”

“Sure.” Something had gone badly wrong. She went into the kitchen to retrieve a glass, then returned to the sitting room.

“So. What’s going on?” She added an inch of whiskey to the glass, topped it up with some water from the jug she brought from the kitchen, and sat down next to him. Close enough to feel his body heat.

“Rory wasn’t happy. He felt that Kenna would think he’d told me her secrets. I told him she wouldn’t, but I’m not sure he believed me.”

“Did you explain that it was me? That I was the one who found Kenna’s true identity, that I was the one who insisted in confronting her father?”

Jace nodded. “He doesn’t know you from a hole in the ground, Ally. He doesn’t know what’s been going on between us. I couldn’t explain; it was too difficult.”

A chill settled over her.

“He’s got to be my first priority here.”

Of course he did. Rory was seventeen. And Jace was his only parent. But hearing the words hurt.

“We both knew a relationship between us wouldn’t be easy.” She forced a smile. “He’ll need time to get used to the idea.”

“I’m not sure he’ll ever get used to the idea. He needs me more than ever.” He drained his whiskey in one swallow. “I’ve been selfish thinking about what I want, what I need. Ignoring what he needs. And right now, he needs to know how much he means to me. How I won’t do anything to jeopardize our relationship. Even though I’ve already risked damaging it by wading into your confrontation with Kenna’s father.”

“So what are you saying? Because it sounds a hell of a lot like goodbye to me.” Once upon a time, she’d have already started walking to the door. But now, she needed to hear the words. Needed to have her heart ripped from her chest and stomped on. Shit, why had she let herself get so enmeshed in his life that she’d put her heart in danger? All her life, she’d guarded against this moment. She’d known how easy it was for one person to destroy another. And yet she believed with him it would be different. That she could lower her defenses, and in doing so, find happiness.

Bullshit. She should have kept up her guard.

“I don’t want goodbye.” He lifted his head, and the look on his face sliced her heart into shreds. “Fuck, I don’t want to let you go. I’m struggling here.”

Time. They both needed time. The pain in her heart was mirrored on his face, in his eyes. And she’d had enough of pain and regret to last a lifetime.

“I’m flying back to Seattle tomorrow afternoon. I’m exhausted, and you are too.” She took his hand. “Let’s go to bed.”

* * *

Christ, he was a mess. He hadn’t even explained himself properly. Hadn’t even told Ally about Amanda’s intrusion into his and Rory’s lives. His brain hurt and his entire body ached. But when she reached for him, when their hands connected, the pain eased a little, and instinct took over.

Desire mixed with a need so strong it took his breath away. He tugged her hand, urging her closer. She straddled him, and wrapped her arms around his head.

Soft breasts pushed against his chest. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in her familiar scent. Brushed his lips over her soft skin, feeling the pulse of her heartbeat in her neck beneath his mouth. Just holding her soothed him, was a balm to his battered soul. With her in his arms, he felt less alone. As though he was sharing his burden.

When Rory gets back...

He forced away thoughts of his son. Of what would become of his relationship with Ally once Rory returned. He couldn’t think of that now. Couldn’t think of anything.

Her fingers were playing with the knots at the base of his neck, stroking and massaging the skin there, in a way both soothing and invigorating.

“Kiss me.” Her voice, soft and husky, had him hardening under her.

She eased back a fraction. Her pupils had expanded into dark pools. Now, with the heat of desire, their color deepened to dark, forest green. Her skin was pale and creamy, with a light dusting of faint freckles barely visible. The need to trace the Cupid’s bow of her top lip with his tongue was irresistible, so he didn’t try to hold back. The resulting kiss was long, deep, consuming.

Like him, she was dressed in jeans and T-shirt. But not for long. He only had to reach for the hem of her T-shirt for her to take over, stripping it off in one smooth movement and dropping it to the floor while he did the same to his own.

“Pretty bra.” Hot pink. Push up. It felt good to smile again. Even if it was at a wisp of lingerie.

“You saw it this morning.” She brushed her lips against his.

“I still appreciate you in it. But I appreciate you better without it.” He unfastened it at the back, and watched her take it off. “You’re beautiful.” Had he even told her that? Her nipples were dusky rose. Forming tight buds ready for his hands. His mouth. He traced the darker ring of areola with his tongue, then fastened over her, sucking her into his mouth. The way she moved, the sounds she made, told him exactly how much she liked the attention he paid to her body. She wriggled on his lap, the friction doing crazy things to his cock.

He unzipped her, and everything accelerated. She stood up, unsteady on her feet. Shimmied out of her jeans and matching hot pink panties. He leaned back on the sofa and shed his clothes too, then she was on him, skin to skin.

“You’re wet.” Her warm, wet cunt slid against his cock.

“I’m seriously fucking wet.” She gripped his shoulders. “I want you inside me so hard it hurts.”

He gripped her hips. Moved her up, then back, loving the feel of her body on his. Wanting to be inside her. Needing to be inside. Her back arched and her head fell forward, searching for his mouth. With one tilt of her pelvis, he moved from against to inside, surging into her in one swift movement that left them both gasping.

She tightened around him. Lifted up, and slammed back onto his cock. This wouldn’t last long. Already he felt the tightening in his balls, the aching need for release.

“Lie down.” She shoved him sideways, and he went where she wanted him, back flat against the sofa as she rearranged herself on top of him. “Let me do the work.”

If this was work, call him a workaholic.

She sat up straight, her hands on her beautiful breasts as she rode him. The slide of her cunt, the way she bit her bottom lip as she tweaked her nipples, the sighs and other needy sounds she made, turned on the heat until he was burning up. He reached between their joined bodies to rub her clit with his thumb. Her eyelids flicked open, her aroused gaze locking on his.

“Yes. There.” Her words a moan. “There.”

Her breasts bounced as she rode him harder. “Oh, God. Yes.”

The sofa was too soft, he couldn’t slam into her as his body demanded. “Switch.” He lifted her off him, and reversed their positions, re-entering her the moment she was on her back. Her legs wrapped around him, holding him tight. His teeth grazed her shoulder; he soothed the bite with his tongue. She was right there with him, moving in perfect concert, responding to his every frantic surge, with internal clenching that made his cock pulse. They were close, so close, and it took everything he had to wait until the first shivers of her orgasm squeezed around him before surrendering to his own.

He came with a shout, a hoarse cry that forced itself from his throat as his release filled her. As they became one.