DAYS BECAME WEEKS, weeks became months and there was still no sign of Esteban. He was M.I.A. – not a single trace. His goons hadn’t found Declan and Lydia. Maybe they chased the burner phones to Maine and gave up when they led to nowhere.

It seemed time really did heal all wounds. Declan was still guarded, when it came to Lydia, but not as much as he had been. Mossy Bridge had become home, and though Lydia missed her son and sister, her living arrangements were tolerable. Declan had surprised her with a video of Jax walking, then one of him starting to talk. It was far from perfect, but they were all safe, for now.

A routine had developed between Lydia and Declan. Morning workouts were still on the agenda, followed by self-defense in the late afternoon. Lydia had even learned to fire a gun, practicing often in the secluded area where they lived. She was a pretty good shot. The two even did all of their shopping together, each week, and enjoyed the many festivities the small town hosted. They genuinely enjoyed each other.

Lydia was getting stronger, physically, and with that strength came a certain confidence that had been missing before. It looked good on her. She was changing, discovering who she was – or at least who she wanted to be – and figuring out what she was made of. When all of this was over, she would be unrecognizable, far more than she ever was before.

Beer was a new dietary staple, and she even ate meat, though she clung to that plant based protein powder in her smoothies still. Old habits die hard. She even got used to the Mississippi bugs, learned to fish, and got dirty once in a while. Though she was embracing her life as Pearla Gray, she still had nights full of tears and a broken heart, but she didn’t live in it, just experienced it and moved on.

Nature serenaded them over dinner while sitting out on the deck. In the south, crab boils and fish fries were as common as a summer barbecue, and they indulged in that southern way of life often. It went well with the beer, too.

“So, tell me something about you that I don’t already know,” she chimed, “and I already know you like to run, drink beer, and grunt a lot.”

“I don’t grunt. I just don’t always like to talk.” That’s where he wasn’t being honest. He did like to talk and wanted to talk to her and tell her everything. He just couldn’t – it wasn’t safe.

“Oh c’mon, O’Reilly. I know you have a niece, at least one brother, and of course parents because…” she waved her hand up and down at him, “well, you’re here and that takes…parents.”

“That was a really weird way to say that, ya know.”

“Ehh, you’re deflecting. Out with it. You know everything about me. You probably know what kind of cake I had at my ninth birthday because of all your top-secret, ninja, borderline stalker resources. In fact, chocolate or vanilla?”

“Vanilla,” he said without hesitation.

Her eyes widened in surprise before she squinted in disbelief. “Lucky guess.”

“I’m actually trained to read people. I can tell when they are lying, too. You did this little thing with your eyebrows when you said vanilla…gave the whole thing away,” he said with an it was too easy shrug.

“Okay.” She put her hands over her eyebrows so she wouldn’t give anything away, and asked, “Did I have a unicorn or pony theme?”

With a mocking grin and tone, he fired back confidently, “Both. They’re both a type of horse, and you could never choose one over the other because you…love…horses.”

Giving nothing away, she sat quiet and still before dropping her hands in defeat. In a pitchy timbre, she asked, “How do you do that?”

With a nonchalant shrug and a no big deal attitude, he replied, “It’s a gift. Look, I know you. I know you love horses and like…all the things when you can have them…it made sense.”

“So, you guessed.”

“Basically, but not until after I read you. Like I said, I know you.”

“So, you do,” she said. “Now let me get to know you…dish. Family. Spill it.”

“Well, I have a niece…” With his head down, looking at his plate, he peeked up at her through his dark, thick lashes to see her expression. “…a brother, parents.”

“Ha, sarcasm…shocker. I’m serious. There is more to Declan O’Reilly than that,” she said, “A lot more.”

Against better judgement, he divulged far more than he should. “Okay, okay. I have four brothers, all younger, and a little sister; she’s the youngest.”

“Only girl, with five older brothers? If they are anything like you, ouch! Poor girl!” Her teasing was taken as such, and he laughed at the observation.

“Yeah, Carigan had it rough. We babied her until boys came around. Then we just humiliated her. It all worked out though; she’s sweet as pie, but tough as nails. The way I see it, she’s lucky to have us. She’s a fiery redhead, just like our niece, Reagan. Reagan is the spitting image of Cari…it’s almost scary.”

“Good. Sounds like you boys need some strong-willed girls to keep you in line. So, tell me about your brothers. You said one had married and lost his wife? What about the others? Why aren’t the O’Reilly boys married? Are you that bad?”

“Liam married his high school sweetheart. She was like a sister to the rest of us; we’d all known each other most of our lives. She was diagnosed with cancer when she was pregnant, insisted on having the baby, fighting the cancer after she was born. She beat it too…the first time. She had been in remission for years, and it just…came back.” He looked off as he relived a painful memory. It was apparent that the loss was still very raw. “Anyway, she wasn’t as lucky the second time. Liam hasn’t been the same since, and he struggles with balancing grief and raising Reagan – some days it’s just too much, so we all help where we can.”

Wiping a lone tear from her cheek, she hurt for him and the people involved, who she didn’t even know. “That is awful. I am so sorry for your loss.”

“It is what it is, right? Life is just that, life. We aren’t guaranteed anything but the opportunity to deal with whatever hand we’re dealt and come out the other side the best way we can,” he said as his way of dealing with how her loss affected the family. “Anyway, Liam is a twin. Luke is his other half. Those two couldn’t be more different but have a connection none of the rest of us have.”

“Oooh, twin boys, your poor mother!” she teased.

“Wow. Your poor mom,” she said again, shaking her head.

“You already said that…” he laughed.

“Well, six children are a lot. Especially when five are boys, and two of them twins! She must be a saint!”

“My mom…yeah, I guess she sort of is. She put up with a lot of crap. We were always thick as thieves and getting into some sort of trouble. Dace is fourth in line and sort of the ring leader of trouble – always been a dare devil. Then Wylie. He comes by his name naturally. He’s the youngest, but he’s the biggest because he had to be. We gave him a lot of shit – always called him a mama’s boy.”

“Oh, that’s mean. There is nothing wrong with a mama’s boy. There’s something special about that bond,” she defended, thinking of her own son.

“Oh, I know. He didn’t care much though. He could kick all of our asses. He’s still a mama’s boy. He’s all fun and games, a real prankster, who laughs at his own stupid jokes. But he also takes care of business and would give you the shirt off his back if you needed it. He’s a good kid.” It was nice to speak freely about his family in this way, but something about it also pained him a little. He couldn’t tell her everything, and it felt a bit like denying them something.

“That’s actually kind of beautiful, to be so close. You take care of each other. I wouldn’t know what that’s like. I’ve always wanted a big family, close, too. You’re all very lucky to have each other. It all makes sense now. You’re the oldest? That’s why you grunt so much. You’re used to annoying tag-a-longs.”

Maybe telling her wasn’t such a bad idea after all. “That’s right. We are close; we would do anything for each other. I’ve been undercover for about two years. That means no contact with my family, or I put them in danger.”

“So, what do they all do…are they big, tough, undercover, secret ninja types like you?” she playfully asked.

Now that was a loaded question. Telling her how many siblings he had, and that they were a close family, was one thing. Getting into the full family dynamic was another. Letting her in as he did was dangerous enough. The truth could make her a target.

Answering her question, the best way he could without selling them out or putting a target on her back, he said, “They’re all in…the family business.”

“Oh. They all work together too! That’s amazing. You’re the odd duck, then, huh?” She sat and thought about that, not sure if she was more impressed with his family’s close bond or that he was sharing such a personal side of himself with her.

“Umm, something like that.” And that was all she needed to know – for now.

Their evening conversation went well into the night while Declan elaborated only on what he had shared so far. His family of personalities and shenanigans – the rest was still off limits. He told her about how his parents owned an Irish Pub in the city that he and his brothers called home, while their sister moved away to the family vacation home in the mountains, just so she could date without their interference. Their cousins were like siblings, and there were a lot more of them out there, but he didn’t elaborate much there.

It was nice to see the side of Declan that had his heart. His walls were down, even if only for the evening, and she saw who he really was. He was loyal, loving, and die hard.

Lydia wanted to build that someday. She didn’t realize how badly until now. She could sit and listen to Declan’s funny stories about his family mischief for hours. They were sweet and made her a little green with envy.

Her life with Esteban was superficial, though it took a life on the run to really reflect just how much so. He swept her off her feet, got her out of New York, and promised a happily ever after that ended not long after the wedding. None of their life together was real, despite having everything money could buy. She wasn’t real, until now, and she wanted what real people had, everything. The stuff money couldn’t buy.

When her eyes were too heavy, and sleep began to claim her, she reluctantly went inside for the night but demanded more stories the next day. Declan was looking forward to it. He didn’t doubt her when she said she wanted a big family like his; it was obvious by the way she hung on his every word.

Simple living looked good on her. He noticed the changes she had made – she was an entirely new person. The best part was she liked the person she was now. All she wanted was a simple life and to raise her son. Perhaps find a real happily ever after while she was at it.

He wanted that for her. She deserved it after what she had been through. She traded in her proverbial silver spoon for a plastic one. It wasn’t shiny; it wasn’t high maintenance; it was just exactly what she needed and nothing more.

Lost in thoughts about what she needed or deserved in her life, and always coming up with himself, he cleared the remaining dishes from the table and turned in for the night himself. Without a single regret over telling her about his personal life, he felt lighter. Even if it tied them closer together and that meant danger for her, he was committed to keeping her safe at all costs – and probably would, always.