I’m sitting in my office staring out the window. Officially, I’m supposed to be thinking about answers for an interview I’m giving for a publication. But in reality, I’m wondering whether Hunter and I really have a chance. So much has happened, so many feelings have been hurt. We both have open wounds that haven’t quite healed. I want him. I have never wanted anybody as much as I want him. But will that be enough?

Will it be enough of a foundation to build a life on? I wonder where my negative thoughts are coming from. Whenever I’m with him, I’m happy, and I know we belong together. But whenever I’m lonely, alone in my bed or here in my office, doubts start nagging at me.

How much can a heart take?

How much can my heart take? And his? Will we always keep blaming each other for what happened, or can we leave it all behind us? I mean leave it behind for real, so we don’t keep dragging stuff back out whenever we have a fight.

My phone rings. I look at the display and frown. Unknown number. “Hello?”

“Mackenzie?”

I know this voice, even though I haven’t heard it in a long time. “Hello, Carter.”

“Hey, Mackenzie. How are you doing?”

“You’re not calling me to make small talk, are you?”

He snorts. “No, you’re right. I’ve been trying to reach Carey, but he’s not picking up his phone. How is Hunter?”

“How much do you know?”

“I know he had a serious accident.”

I run my hand across my forehead. It’s not easy talking to him with the events from the last time we saw each other still fresh on my mind. “He’s recovering pretty well. He’s in physical therapy.”

“Therapy? Why?”

“He lost a leg in Afghanistan.”

There’s silence on the other end of the line.

“Carter?”

“A leg?” he almost whispers.

“Yes, his left leg. It was amputated below the knee. He has a prosthetic and is learning to walk again.”

“Fuck.”

“It’s not the end of the world.”

“My son’s a cripple!”

“Your son is not a cripple. He’s a war hero.”

“Stop with the euphemisms. He’s only got one leg. He’s a cripple, simple as that,” he mutters bitterly.

Suddenly, I feel terribly guilty. It was me who made Hunter flee California. Without me, Carter would still have his boys. Hunter may never have joined the Marines. It’s my fault Carter’s lonely and bitter. How could I do that to him? How could I wreck his family like that?

I clear my throat. “He’s walking. He’s adapting well to the situation.”

Carter snorts. “Why are you in touch with him?”

“Because I care about him.”

“I thought he didn’t want anything to do with you anymore.”

“I had some arguments he couldn’t resist.”

“Like what?”

“His daughter.”

More silence on the other end of the line. “His what?”

For a moment, I’m confused. Didn’t Carter know? I thought Carey had talked to him long ago, informed him he had a grandchild. “Sorry, Carter. I thought you knew.”

“His daughter? Who is the mother?”

I gulp. “I am.”

Silence again. “Did you do a paternity test?”

That stings. That he trusts me so little he thinks I would lie to Hunter about this. “No.”

“If you believe you can get to our family fortune through that little bastard—”

And suddenly, my feelings of guilt are gone. I understand he’s still angry, but nobody talks about my daughter like that! Someone who would talk like that about a two-year-old cannot be a good person. Why did I never see that before? I mean, I always knew he could be emotionally cold, but in the beginning, I just brushed that off, like so many other things, because he was so great. And I was so naive! A man like him—educated, good looking, cultivated—had taken an interest in a young country bumpkin like me… How could I have resisted falling in love with him?

Of course, today, it’s obvious I fell in love with a dream, not a real person. And he couldn’t measure up. He was doomed from the beginning. I hope I’m not making the same mistake with Hunter.

“You better not let Hunter hear you call his daughter that,” I say, trying to make my voice sound loud and confident.

“His alleged daughter.”

“No, his daughter.”

“Who knows who else you’ve been fucking?”

I hang up. I don’t have to listen to that.

But I also google paternity tests and order a kit. Better be safe than sorry. If Carter has doubts, then maybe Hunter does, too.

* * *

“Daddy!” Hazel coos when we arrive at the clinic for a visit a few days later.

He laughs and catches her. She wraps her little arms around his neck, and he holds her tight. I have never seen such a happy face before. He is absolutely in love with her. I stop a few steps away from them.

When Hunter opens his eyes again, he beams at me and opens his arms for me. I snuggle up against him and lift my head to look at him. His lips sink onto mine. Lovingly, passionately, and a little possessively. All in all, an irresistible mix.

“Hey, babe,” I say quietly, and his grip gets firmer.

“Hey, baby.”

I reach up and stroke his cheeks. I glance at Hazel, who’s looking at her dad in awe. He’s in love with her, and she’s in love with him. It is so good to see the two of them together.

We sit in the garden, and Hazel starts chatting while she runs circles around us. Hunter is quick enough to follow her now, so he jogs after her. He catches her, picks her up, and flings her through the air, making her squeal.

She screams, “Again!” Her favorite word at the moment.

I watch them, thinking about how Hunter is a natural-born dad: loving, a little crazy, full of cool ideas. I can’t wait to see the two of them at the beach or lying on our couch at home. She can perch on his stomach. I can’t wait to watch him lick around the edge of her ice cream cone to stop the drips or teach her how to ride a bicycle. There’s still so much for the two of them to discover together.

Everybody can see she’s his daughter. She looks just like him. Still, it hurts me that Carter immediately called me and my little girl gold diggers. It seems like the same old story repeating itself.

When Hunter sits down with me, I get the cotton swab in the plastic bag out of my purse and place it in front of him.

“What am I supposed to do with that?” he asked, perplexed.

I look at the ground, kneading my hands. “It’s a paternity test.”

I can almost feel the air start to buzz. I look up and see that he’s angry. Not angry. Fuming.

“What?” he nearly screams.

Hazel gives him a surprised look, interrupts whatever she’s been doing on the ground, and looks up, her eyes filling with tears. I stretch out my hand for her, and she comes to bury her head in my lap.

Hunter looks like he wants to kill someone. When he looks at Hazel, he immediately calms down, kneels next to her, and strokes her head. “Sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to yell.”

She turns her face toward him and nods. Hunter opens his arms, and she practically hurls herself into them. He sits down again and puts her on his lap.

“Where did you get this idea?” he asks me quietly.

“I don’t want you to have any doubts.”

“I don’t.”

“But—”

He puts his hand on mine. “Mac, I have no doubts. I never did. I trust you. You don’t lie.”

For a while, relief floods through me. “She is your daughter.”

“I know, Mac.” He smiles. “So where did you get this stupid idea?”

I shrug. “It’s just, Carter—”

Hunter snorts. “No sentence can be good if it starts like that.”

“He called me a couple days ago and asked about you.”

He’s silent a moment. “Are… Are you keeping in touch?” His jaw is tight.

“No, we haven’t been in touch at all. I know he’s in New York with his new girlfriend, but that’s it. It was pretty surprising.”

“Has Carey been keeping in touch with him?”

“I don’t know. But Carter said he wasn’t picking up his phone.”

Hunter nods. “What did he want?”

I look down. “He asked how you were doing.”

“What did you say?”

“Great.”

“What else?”

“Nothing else. He asked why we were talking again, and I told him I had a few good reasons. He wanted to know what I meant, and I told him about Hazel.”

Hunter’s quiet for a moment that stretches on forever. “What are you not telling me?”

“That’s all.”

“Mac.”

“How was your day?”

He kisses Hazel on the head and sets her back on her feet. She runs a few steps and goes back to… Is that an earthworm?

Hunter comes closer to me. “We’ve already had this conversation, Mac. We agreed that you wouldn’t keep things from me. That you would let me take care of them.”

“Can’t you just stick the cotton swab in your mouth for a second and get this over with?”

“No. I’m not doing a paternity test.”

“Please. I don’t want you to have doubts.”

“Mac, stop it. Hazel is my daughter. A blind person could see that. Even if I wasn’t her biological father, it would be too late now. She’s my daughter. Forever.”

When a tear runs down my cheek, he wipes it away.

“What did he say?”

“You can’t just deliver a line like that and then expect me to be able to function!” I wail.

He gives me a sexy smile. “Are your ovaries acting up?”

“Yes,” I admit.

“Tell me what he said.”

I look down, and Hunter slides closer to me. His upper arm touches mine.

“He called her a bastard and me a gold digger,” I say so quietly I’m not sure he heard.

But then his whole body tenses up, and he growls threateningly, “Hand me your phone, Mac.”

“Why?”

“Give it to me.”

“You can’t call him.”

“I can. We agreed that you would let me handle this.”

“Hunter…”

“Your phone, Mac.”

I hand it to him, hoping he’s not going to do anything stupid. But knowing him, I’m hoping in vain.

“What’s your pin?” he asks.

I give it to him reluctantly, and he scrolls through my calling list, showing me a number and when I nod, holds the phone to his ear. I don’t hear anything, but Hunter starts talking.

“Don’t you dare call my daughter a bastard.” There’s murmuring from the other end. “Hazel is my daughter. My relationship with her is none of your business. My life is none of your business. You lost your stake in it when you kicked me out of your house.” A vein is ticking near his throat, and I can see he’s pulling himself back from yelling at Carter.

There’s more murmuring for a moment.

“No, fuck you, Carter! Don’t you dare! You are never going to call Mac again, and you are not going to come see her. Never. She told me what happened the last time you saw her. And I’m telling you here and now that you’re no longer part of our lives.” He looks into the distance while listening to whatever Carter has to say. “You think she wants your money? Are you insane? How is she supposed to get to your money after I’ve turned down my trust fund? I have no money.”

Hunter’s look gets even frostier. “Hazel has nothing to do with you. Nothing. Mac and I will make sure she has a good life. You are not welcome in our life.” He squints. “I don’t care. I’m not going to do a test. Ever. Hazel is mine. End of discussion. No! Stay out of our lives. No phone calls, no get-togethers, nothing.”

He hangs up and snorts, shaking his head.

I lean my head against his shoulder, and he gently strokes my hair. “You are mine, too, Mac.” I nod and kiss the palm of his hand. “I wanted to ask you something.”

His voice sounds insecure. At least a little. What could it be?

“Yes?”

“I don’t know how to introduce this, so I’ll just come right out with it and hope it’s okay with you.” I nod. “Are you blaming yourself for my injury?”

“Your leg?” This time, he nods. “A little,” I admit.

“It is not your fault.”

“But if it weren’t for me, you would never have met Shane.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“You might never have joined the Marines.”

“It is not your fault.”

“Or maybe you would joined, but then you definitely would have continued Force Recon and wouldn’t have gone to Afghanistan as infantry.”

“It is not your fault.”

“Yes, it is. Don’t you see I’ve only brought misfortune into your life?”

He grabs my chin and directs my face toward our daughter. “Look at her, Mac. Is that misfortune? Isn’t she worth all that pain?”

I nod haltingly.

“And as for everything else—there’s no way of knowing what would have happened. Maybe I would have joined the Marines and would have ended up a complete failure because I didn’t have you to give me the strength to get through it. Maybe I would have been shot on a recon mission. Maybe I would have died in a car crash here in San Diego. Who knows? Could have, would have, should have. There’s no point thinking about it. It is not your fault.”

“But—”

“No buts. I’m a grown man, and I make my own decisions.”

“I know but…I should have protected you!”

“Because in your eyes I was still a child back then?” he asks, sounding a little bitter.

“No, because I loved you then like I love you now.”

He smiles. “Even so, it’s not our fault when something happens to our loved ones.”

I smile a little diabolically. “Wait and see how you feel when the tiniest things happen to Hazel…”

He rubs his neck. “Fuck! Don’t even go there.” He takes my hand and interlaces our fingers. “But I know what you mean. We feel responsible for those we love. But this should not hold us back, okay?”

“Okay,” I whisper, even though I’m not sure it’s going to be that simple.

“Mommy! Worm!”

Hazel comes over and holds a slimy earthworm under my nose. “Er, yeah, nice…”

“Tate!”

“No, thanks.”

Hunter smiles and opens his hand so she can slide the worm onto it. “It can’t live here on the concrete,” he explains gently. “We have to save him and put him in the dirt. Can you do that?”

Hazel nods seriously, and Hunter puts the worm back in her hand. Very carefully, she walks over to the flowerbed and drops him.

“Good job, Hazel! You saved his life!” Hunter calls. And there is so much pride in his voice, a shudder runs down my back. Hazel turns around and beams at him, then she hops back over to us and lets her daddy kiss and hug her. When he’s done, she scurries right back to check on the slimy thing.

Hunter smiles at me. “Are you scared of worms?”

“Not scared,” I say defensively, “but they’re gross.”

He laughs and takes my hand. “Don’t worry, babe, I’ll protect you.” He pulls me close, and I can feel him looking around to see whether anybody is looking at us before he lets his hand slide into my cleavage.

“Is that the worm hand?” I ask, alarmed.

“I wiped it off.”

Okay then. I would still prefer clean hands. He kneads my breasts and rubs across my nipples. I moan quietly.

“I can’t wait to have you in my bed,” he mumbles into my hair.

“God, yes, Hunter.”

“Are you on the pill?” I shake my head. “Get a prescription.”

I nod and get rewarded with a slight pinch to the nipple. I moan again.

“Hmm, my girl likes it harder,” he whispers in my ear. “And you like it when I tell you what to do.” I nod again. “I bet if I had my hand between your legs I could feel how wet you are.” I nod a third time. “I can’t wait to stick my dick inside you. When I get out, we’ll spend a night at a hotel.”

“Oh, yeah,” I moan, as he keeps plugging at my nipple, making me tremble.

“Kiss me.”

I turn my face to him and feel his lips on mine. His tongue pushes into my mouth. His caresses get firmer, more determined, harder. I push my breast against his hand. Without leaving my lips, he pinches me so hard one time it makes me jump. I scream, but his mouth absorbs the sound.

“Shhh, baby,” he mumbles gently.

“That hurt,” I say quietly.

“Did it hurt, or were you just shocked because you’re not used to it?”

“Both.”

He presses his mouth against mine again and pinches me again. This time, he maintains the pressure a little longer. My body acts independently, leaning into it. It hurts, stings, but it’s also good.

When he lets go, I feel warm, and it’s wet between my legs. Oh God! I’m soaked.

He gently kisses my cheek. “I want to push your limits, Mac.”

I nod. “Yes, please.”

“I want to spank you, Mac,” he whispers in my ear. “I want to smack your amazing ass with my hand. I want to hear you moaning, begging for more.” I tremble and snuggle up closer to him. “I know you want that, too.”

“But I’m…I’m scared.”

He strokes my cheek. “I know, baby. But sex has nothing to do with our past. You’re not helpless. You say stop, and I’ll stop. I love it harder, but you’re my partner. I want you to be turned on when I take you hard, smack your butt, or use your mouth to pleasure myself. I want you to enjoy it. I want you to beg me to take you harder, spank you longer, fuck you deeper down your throat. I want you to be so horny you’ll do anything for me. I want you to surrender yourself to me so completely you’ll consider it a great gift when I give you an orgasm. You are mine, Mac. You belong to me, and I’ll do with you what I want.”

I lick my lips and look into his eyes, which are boring into mine. I try to put all my lust, my pure desire into my look as I say, “Yes, please.”

He holds my gaze for a second longer. “I will give you everything you need, baby. Give me everything I need.” I nod. His hand moves up my throat and squeezes gently. My breath speeds up excitedly, and he smiles a little. “Mine, baby. Mine.”

“Mommy!”

He lets go of me, and I turn toward Hazel. “Yes, baby?” My voice is a little hoarse. I mean, you don’t get told that kind of thing every day…

“Two worm.”

She’s holding up two worms. Wonderful.

“Take them to the dirt, Haze. Hunter said they can’t live here on the concrete.”

She nods and takes the two worms over to the first one.

“I think she ripped the first one in half,” Hunter says behind me. He changes position so he’s sitting behind me, wrapping his arms around me. We both observe our daughter, who looks so pretty with her little pigtails but appears to be a cold-hearted killer.

“You think so?” I ask.

“I’m afraid so. Hazel?” he calls.

She looks up. “Daddy?”

“Don’t hurt the worms!”

“No.”

“Don’t rip them in half.”

“No.”

“Worms can’t scream and cry, but that doesn’t mean they don’t feel pain.”

“Yes.” She looks a little contrite.

“She killed him,” Hunter mumbles in my ear.

Our daughter, the killer.

“Hey!” I hear Carey’s voice behind us.

“Hey, C.”

“Yo, bro!”

Carey kisses me on the cheek and pats Hunter’s shoulder. “Hey, Hazeline.”

She looks up and runs toward him, smiling. “Ree! Ree!”

He catches her and squeezes her. “How is my favorite girl doing?”

“Good,” she says, planting a muddy peck on his cheek.

“Did she eat the thing, too?” Hunter asks, thoroughly amused.

“Oh God, I hope not.” I’m not so sure, to be honest. I was a little preoccupied.

“What’s up?” Carey asks as he sits down with us. “Everything okay here? Is Hazel eating dirt?”

“We’re afraid she ate an earthworm after she ripped it in two,” Hunter explains.

“Hmm. If that floats her boat.” Carey looks at Hazel, who’s kneeling in the dirt again. I don’t think the child has ever been clean in her life. “She’s a piggy.”

“Yup, she is,” I admit.

“Better than a little princess,” Hunter says, sounding defensive.

Playfully, Carey raises his hands. “Oh, sorry, Papa Bear. I didn’t mean to attack your cub.”

Hunter gives him a dark look.

Carey laughs. “But good to see you’ve already fallen for her.”

“That’s a slight understatement,” Hunter mumbles beneath his beard.

I pat his hand. “It’s okay, babe.”

“You are so fucking crazy!” Hunter grins and kisses my cheek.

“And you’re gross!” Carey says. I stick out my tongue at him. He does it back.

“You’re like little kids,” Hunter laughs. I shrug, snuggling up closer to him.

“Hey, Hunt. The new Grand Theft Auto is out. I already bought it, so we can try it out next weekend.”

“Cool, man! I’m getting out Friday. Actually, can you watch Hazel then?”

Carey taps around on his phone. “Sure thing. What are you two up to?”

“Sex,” Hunter says.

I hit his arm, making exasperated noises.

“Finally!” Carey says. “She’s such a bitch when she’s not getting regular orgasms.”

“Has she been a bitch for the past three years?” Hunter asks, sounding curious.

“No, she’s got toys.”

“Excuse me!”

“You do. One of your vibrators is so loud you can hear it through two closed doors.”

Heat rises to my cheeks. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Why would I? You never complained when one of my girls was loud.”

“Ugh. I don’t remember that ever happening.”

Carey laughs. “You’re just jealous my bed’s seen more action than yours.”

“Do you always talk to each other like this?” Hunter pipes up.

“Yes,” we say simultaneously. We laugh, and I throw one of Hazel’s pens at Carey.

“Haze, too!” Hazel grabs a marker and cocks her arm back.

Carey laughs his head off as I try to explain to Hazel that Mommy made a mistake, and you’re not actually supposed to throw pens.

She gives me a critical look. “Mommy mistate.”

“Yes, Hazel baby. Mommies make mistakes, too.”

Hazel grabs the pen and launches it across the room farther than I would have thought her capable of. “Haze mistate.”

Hunter’s entire body quakes as he laughs, and Carey nearly falls off the bench. Hazel looks smug. And me? I wipe tears of laughter off my cheeks. Seriously. This child is such a comedian!

“Too bad, Mommy,” Carey says a few minutes later.

“Fut!”

The boys start up again.

“How do you know that word?” I ask, shocked.

“Ree. Daddy.”

I smile at her. “That’s what I thought.”

“You little traitor,” Carey calls and jumps up. Hazel runs away squealing, and Carey pretends he can’t catch her.

“She’s one of a kind,” Hunter says quietly. “You’ve done a great job, Mackenzie Hall.”

“Thanks,” I say a little shyly. “I love you.”

He wraps his arms around me tighter. “I love you, too.” He presses his lips against my head. “Thank you for our wonderful daughter.”

I nod and lean in so tightly not even a leaf would fit between us.

“Let’s fly to Vegas this Friday.”

Did he say what I thought he said? “What?”

“Let’s fly to Vegas.”

I turn around and stare at him speechlessly. Finally, I manage, “Why?”

“So I can make you Mackenzie Tilman.”

I gasp. “Really?”

“Really.”

A tear rolls down my face. “God, Hunter.”

“Say yes, baby.”

I change positions so I can throw my arms around him. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!”

He pulls me in close. “You make me so happy, Mac.”