Phillip and Evangeline Halliwell had been married for almost forty years. They were together for fifteen of those before they had me. My arrival was a bit of a surprise to them, but I was the most loved and adored surprise I could ever hope to be. Mom used to tell me all the time that one of her favorite things in life was surprises, and I always knew her words were a vague reference to me.

I had never once felt unloved or unwanted by them.

I couldn’t imagine not feeling loved or wanted. That was why it was so easy for me to see the sheer apathy in Mac’s eyes when I asked about his family. Apathy mixed with something else. Revulsion, disgust, pain, I wasn’t sure I could place it.

Whatever the emotions were, they weren’t happy ones.

That’s why I didn’t let myself push further. I held off asking questions that I believed needed to be raised. We’d get to that part eventually, right?

Besides, I was having fun just being with Mac.

The week I’d spent with him so far convinced me of something I suspected since the night I met him. 

He was trouble. 

Big time trouble. 

The kind that came with heartache and heartbreak and all sorts of wild, disorganized, crazy emotions that could make a girl think twice before getting tangled up with him.

But I was already tangled up with him.

We were having a baby.

And now, we were on our way to meet my parents. He wasn’t thrown by the idea of coming out here when I’d mentioned it. That was a good sign, right?

I wanted to see him back home with me—not that he was ever going to give up Las Vegas. Besides, there wasn’t a huge demand for big-name, nightly shows with headliner magicians near Niagara Falls. Sure, there were a few busy casinos, more than its fair share of wedding chapels, decent tourism because of the Falls themselves, and the nightlife wasn’t too bad. But Niagara Falls was not the Vegas strip. Not in the best of times.

But we were here because I still had this crazy urge to spend Christmas at home with my family—and with him.

The drive was only forty minutes from the airport. As we slowed down at a stoplight in the outskirts of town, I looked over at him and our eyes locked.

“You’re smiling,” he said. “What are you thinking about?”

“Christmas. I love this time of year.”

“So... Eggnog, big family dinners, exchanging presents, decorating the tree, cooking and baking, shopping, and singing Carols in Ye Olde English garb?”

I’d already started nodding but I shook my head at the end. “Everything except for the last part. Mom and I always go shopping…she’s probably been waiting for me to get here so we can keep up the tradition.”

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those families who take pleasure in putting off all the prep until the last few days.”

Leaning my head back against the padded headrest, I sighed. “Not that kind of mad dash, all-out-war, rush shopping. But yes, I do have a few presents left to buy.” 

Including one for Mac.

“Mom and I also go shopping for a local shelter every year. It’s…well, a thing we do together. She took me the first time when I was only four.” I grinned at him. “And I was not happy when I realized all the awesome clothes I’d picked out and all the cool toys weren’t for me.”

“Instilling humanitarian values at a young age, was she?” His voice was caustic.

“No.” I arched a brow when he shot a pointedly cynical look my way. “She was teaching me responsibility. We’ve been...blessed. That’s the word Mom and Dad use. We have what so many others don’t. We pay it forward. Mom and Dad support the shelter throughout the year. It’s a family thing that we do together. She started the Christmas shopping thing when I was young because it’s something a child would understand—most kids can understand how sad they’d be if they didn’t have presents. At least when they get to a certain age. We learn empathy by imagining others in that same predicament.”

I went back to looking out the window. “I enjoy doing it.”

A few taut seconds passed by, then softly, Mac said, “I’m sorry… I was being a dick. I can be a skeptical son of a bitch at times.”

“No. Not really. Just…you haven’t had the opportunity to grow up in the same headspace as I did. It’s not your fault.” I offered him a faint smile. “My sense is you and your family aren’t close. That part is clear and I’m sorry you had to go through that type of childhood. My family and I are, and I guess I don’t take what they’ve done for me for granted. Probably because of the kids and families I meet through my teaching jobs.”

I had no doubt that Mom would be waiting for me to go shopping. She always did. And in a couple of years, we’d take Bump along, bringing her into the tradition to keep the magic alive.

Remembering back, I’d thrown a fit that first time when mom took me Christmas shopping. Well, when I realized none of the presents I’d picked out were for me. Not even one little stuffed toy or doll or even a coloring book. After we had finished, she took me to the shelter and I was quiet and sullen, resentful as we delivered the gifts.

Mom didn’t ignore my behavior. Her stern voice cut me off at the knees, but once we were outside, she spoke to me in a different tone.

“Can you imagine what it would be like to live in a place like this? If you had no big house, no pretty bedroom…no toys?” Mom had asked.

Even at four, I figured it’d be lousy, unbearable. Then she asked me how I’d like it if I had to live without new clothes or even a warm enough coat on a cold winter day.

I didn’t understand her reasoning behind the questions because even when she was angry with me, Mom wouldn’t take away my clothes, or my coat, or even my toys. Which was what I told her. That was when she swept me up into her arms, kissing me. 

“No…I may take your toys away for a short time to teach you a lesson, but I’d never take away the things you love. But that’s the problem, Angel. Those children in there, they don’t have much to start with. Many of them only have a few shirts or dresses, sometimes not even that. And most of them only have the toys we just dropped off for them.”

“It must be nice having good memories like that,” Mac said, cutting in on my thoughts.

I looked over to find him studying me again.

“Yes. It is.” I didn’t dare ask him about the details of his childhood that haunted him. What I was sure of was that the memories had become ghosts, nightmares, monsters. I’d seen that look in a few kids’ eyes before, and I saw it in his eyes now. This was one area of his life where Mac wore his emotions on his sleeves. Instead of asking about those memories, I forced a smile and rested my eyes for the rest of the way home.

* * *

“We’re here, sugar,” he murmured, voice warm and soft as whiskey-soaked velvet. A split second later, he spoke again, his tone showing his confusion. “At least I think we’re here. You didn’t tell me you lived in a stone castle. The only thing missing is a moat.”

Turning my face towards his, I kissed him lightly. “I once asked my dad to put a moat in. I was seven, and he asked what I wanted for my birthday—I told him a moat. As you can see, I didn’t get one.”

“Princess Angel.” He tsked under his breath. “Are they going to lock you up in a tower while we’re here? Will I have to slay a dragon or something if I want to kiss you?”

“No. My parents will figure that if you got me interested, you already conquered that dragon.” Wrinkling my nose at him, I added, “I’ve been known to be incredibly discriminating, even though you might think that’s hard to believe considering how we met, and that we’ve only spent…what, eight days together and I’m taking you home.”

“I believe you. Trust me, I’ve been known to keep to myself too. There’s that saying. It’s less about quantity and more about quality.”

“Hmm.” Smiling at him, I asked, “Are you ready to go in?”

“Not really. This…meeting your parents thing is unnerving.” He gave me a pained look. “But if we stayed out here for too much longer we’d freeze. I know now that I don’t like the cold.”

“I guess that means you won’t try one of those stunts where you go over the Falls in a barrel, or freeze yourself into a human-size block of ice just so you can escape it, or something crazy like that.” I reached for the door as Mac laughed.

“I’ve done crazier. It usually involves fire and motorcycles. Not barrels. Definitely not ice. And never water.”

“Why not?”

A flicker of panic crossed his face for an instant before he smiled to mask it. “I’ll leave the water tricks to Sly. He’s way better at them.” He blew out a breath between his teeth. “I’m going to assume those are your folks.”

I looked up and saw Mom and Dad at the open door, gleeful smiles on their faces as they peered through the snow that had just started to fall. “Yes, that’s them.”

“Let’s go in. I’m looking forward to getting this part over and done with.”

“I never would’ve noticed,” I said casually.

* * *

“Tell us about yourself,” Mom said to Mac. The four of us were seated in the living room with canapés and wine. 

I had to decline on the alcohol, naturally. Mom offered to get me a bottle of the kind I liked, being well aware that my tastes ran a sharp 180 degrees from what she and Dad preferred. On her second offer, I turned her down again and she noticed.

Mac glanced at me too. I could see a glint in his eyes, although I wasn’t sure if he was looking around for an escape route or silently hinting to me that now was a good time to announce my pregnancy. I already figured this was the main reason he was here to meet them in the first place.

Well, I was curious to hear about him too. On the edge of my seat, to be honest. But if I was reading him right, he had a point. I needed to get to the punch line about Bump.

“Mom, you’ll have to be nosy later. Don’t start the inquisition just yet. You’ll have time to get to know Mac.” 

I rubbed his shoulder, then got to my feet. Mom’s eyes flicked to my hand. My left hand, of course. It was pure coincidence that my left hand was on his shoulder. He was on my left. But I knew immediately what she was observing. Searching for. That look had less to do with our subtle intimacy and more to do with her hope to catch sight of something there with gold or platinum with a nice big diamond in it. When she didn’t find an engagement ring on my hand, I saw the disappointment that darkened her blue eyes. It was only there for a moment, then gone again just as quickly before she brightened her smile because we were entertaining a guest.

I had a feeling I was about to make up for it, though. Maybe. Parents as loving as they were could only be thrilled about the conception of their first grandchild, right? Unplanned ones too? From a baby daddy I’d only known for all of two seconds?

“So, Mom and Dad...Mac and I met back in the summer,” I said.

They both sat up a little straighter.

I picked my words carefully to steer clear of a glaring detail. They didn’t need to know about the one-night stand. Mom would do the math soon enough, once we told her who Mac was and where he spent most of his time while I was in Mexico City.

I glanced at Mac. His face hadn’t changed much. He’d stayed stoically silent, but now, the polite smile on his face widened a fraction.

I deliberately wore a loose shirt that camouflaged my belly. However, something clued my mother in. Maybe the shirt was pulled just right when I turned, or she had a flash of maternal intuition. I don’t know, but only a few seconds after I rose, she got to her feet too, clasping her hands over her mouth to muffle a squeal. 

A squeal. My mother squealed.

“Mom…” Rolling my eyes I looked at her, shaking my head.

“Oh, honey.” She waved a hand at me, laughing a little. The sound was watery, eliciting a quick look from my father. Her eyes were wet. “Please, do go on. Don’t mind me.”

“You kind of ruined it now.” I glanced at Dad and he met my gaze, still puzzled about Mom’s behavior. I’d seen his quick check of my ring finger too, but with the conspicuous absence of a ring, he had apparently decided to withhold judgment.

“At least I get to surprise one of you.” Shaking my head, I looked at my father, then down at my belly. “Dad, look.” 

With my hands, I drew the shirt tight.

He glanced down then back at my face. I smiled when it took a few seconds for him to get the hint. Then I saw the surprise register, followed immediately by excitement and a rush of other emotions.

Moments later, I was engulfed by my exuberant parents. From the corner of my eye, I happened to catch sight of Mac. He was looking the other way. There was a pulse ticking in his jaw. That jaw was as rigid and steely as anything I’d ever seen in my life.

* * *

“I told my daughter I wouldn’t pry, so feel free to just change the subject if you don’t want to talk about it. But you sound French. Is that a bit of Louisiana in your voice?” Mom asked over dinner.

Mac gave her a polite smile. “It is. I’m one hundred percent Cajun. I grew up there. I haven’t been back in years, though. Don’t really plan on changing that, either.”

The firmness to his tone made it clear that while he didn’t mind answering that specific question, he wouldn’t elaborate on it. It was a neat trick. I’d have liked to learn that. It probably had something to do with being an entertainer.

“I’ve seen your shows on TV before.” Dad held a glass of wine, admiration on his smiling face. “I can’t believe that Angel has known you for all those months but didn’t tell us. She knows how much I love magic. From a distance, of course. I’ve always had a fascination with illusions. Wait, did she tell you that my great-great-grandfather met the great Houdini in person?”

I felt Mac’s interest flare immediately.

Giving him my best look of complete and utter innocence, I said, “I’ve had other things on my mind, Dad.”

“Yes, but it’s Harry Houdini,” he stressed in a mild voice, although the words carried a note of reverence.

“Yeah, but…” I shrugged. “That’s your thing. I figured I’d let you tell him...you know, while we had other stuff going on.”

“For all those months, you didn’t mention—” Dad persisted but went quiet when Mom poked him hard in his side.

“Hush now, darling.” She raised her eyebrows. “Does it matter? Now you can tell him the story yourself.”

I smiled my thanks at Mom as my father launched into the familiar story, telling Mac about my great-great-grandpa, an amateur magician who’d managed to meet the legend backstage after a show.

“You know, once upon a time, I fancied the idea of pursuing the craft myself. But I was never good enough.” My father ended his story with that statement and a shrug. “You, however, are amazing. I’ve seen you, and your two partners. You men are fantastic.”

“Dad,” I chided, hoping he’d get the hint that he was starting to sound a bit too fan-crazed. 

He smiled, eyes still on Mac. “I was good…for an amateur. But I didn’t want it enough. I wasn’t willing to sacrifice—and good magic is something that takes sacrifice, isn’t it, Mac?”

Oh. 

Oh God. 

There was more to his storytelling than just fanfare. Dad was layering in his expectations. Jesus. Mac wasn’t about to take this well. Warning, warning… the voice in my head clicked on, but it was too late. Mom must have heard it, too, because she was already leaning over to murmur in Dad’s ear or find a way to kick him in the shin to stop him. 

Mac moved to speak first, leaning in so that he met my father’s gaze dead on. “Mr. Halliwell—”

“Please.” My father waved a hand and casually cut him off. “Call me Phillip—or Phil. After all, you’re the father of my grandchild.”

Mac nodded. “Phillip, I hope you don’t mind me just getting straight to the point here. I’ve never been one for beating around the bush. Something tells me you’d appreciate that.” He paused, a brow cocked.

“Of course,” Dad said, waving a hand.

“Yes, what I do takes a lot of sacrifices. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to skip out on my responsibilities to the baby.” His jaw went tight for the briefest second and I had a flashback of the expression I had seen on his face earlier. But it lasted only a second this time. 

And the smile he gave me then…

I was swooning.

My heart skipped a few beats before starting to race.

“I’m going to be a good father. I’ll have to figure it out because I didn’t have much of an example myself. But this baby won’t be relegated to the sidelines. He or she will have my full attention whether I’m in between tours or working day in and day out.” He paused, then added, “Does that help put you at ease?”

My father tipped his wine in Mac’s direction. “Son, I think I’m really going to like you.”