Sienna Ashton Parker pulled into her driveway and saw the lights in the house begin to flicker. Her dog, Hooch, knew she was home. It had been a long day at the Thoroughbreds’ office. She loved her job as a sports psychologist, but it had been a long couple of days with a few of the players facing anxiety over contract negotiations. The summer wasn’t a quiet time for the people in the front office.

Sienna pulled into the garage and walked out front to get the mail. The front door opened and Hooch, well over a hundred ten pounds of jowls and rolling muscles, stumbled out the front door. He knocked over a chair as he bounded off the porch and down the driveway.

“There’s my baby,” Sienna cooed as Hooch tried to slam on the brakes but failed miserably. Instead of stopping, he launched his body upward, slamming two enormous paws into her chest and sending her stumbling backward into the mailbox.

“He’s missed you,” Ryan called out.

Sienna wedged the small knit baby’s cap that had been left sitting not so innocently in the mailbox onto Hooch’s head. “Go see Daddy.”

Hooch’s deep bark rumbled through Sienna’s chest before he turned and ran toward Ryan with the yellow cap barely hanging on as Sienna had stretched it to three times its size in order to fit Hooch’s head.

“Another one?” Ryan groaned as he took the knit cap off Hooch.

“She’s your mother. You deal with it, or I swear I will tie my tubes.”

“Come on now. You know she scares me,” Ryan complained, leaning down from the top of the porch to kiss her. “Welcome home. I made dinner.”

“Well, I guess that redeems you somewhat from being afraid of your mom,” Sienna said, sniffing the air. “Is that—?”

“My homemade gumbo.” Ryan smiled.

“You’re definitely forgiven.” Sienna pushed past him and went straight to the crockpot and sniffed. Her stomach rumbled, and she might have drooled. Living with Hooch was rubbing off on her.

“What do you think about the party for the Rose sisters?” Ryan asked, stirring the gumbo.

“I think they’ll find out.” Sienna kicked off her heels and took a seat on the barstool.

“We’re supposed to bring plates.”

“No problem. I’ll pick them up tomorrow. Do you want to meet for lunch? I have a break unless someone comes in without an appointment, which is always possible.”

Ryan shook his head. “Sorry. I was able to leave early today, but tomorrow we have some training with the DEA office. We’re working closely with them on the heroin problem. Apparently they’ve been having luck using undercover agents.”

Sienna licked the spoon Ryan had just used to stir the gumbo. “Haven’t you all used undercover work for a long time?”

Ryan shrugged. “They said they’re thinking outside the box with people who don’t look like agents—like housewives or moms or something. I don’t know. They’re going to brief us on this new approach tomorrow.”

“So you and some PTA moms are going to bring down the heroin dealers? Whatever works. We’ve upped the number of drug tests for the football team. It’s too easy to get and too easy to get hooked on. I’m leading a drug education class next month when the rookies come.”

Ryan brought out two bowls and started spooning gumbo into them. “The undercover agents won’t be there. We’re just learning about different ways to utilize undercover work. But something needs to be done. Four people died last night in one apartment complex from overdosing.”

Sienna dug into her gumbo and moaned.

Ryan shook his head with amusement. “I used to be the only one who could get you to make that sound.”

“I won’t complain if you want to try. I don’t want you to lose your touch,” Sienna said seductively before ruining the moment by moaning around another mouthful of gumbo.

“My pleasure,” Ryan said, scooping his wife up and carrying her down the hall.

“My gumbo!”

Ryan kissed her and gumbo became a distant memory.

* * *

Deacon McKnight crept through the shadows of the trailer park on the outskirts of Lexington with Detective Andrea Braxton. The trailer park was surrounded by woods and located far enough from town that the criminals who called it home felt safe. Two days before, a fourteen-year-old girl never came home from swimming at the community pool and that investigation led them to the trailer park. The girl’s mother and father were frantic. Detective Braxton had recommended the parents hire Deacon to assist her as well since her plate was full of open cases.

Deacon had worked nonstop tracing the girl’s footsteps. He’d learned she’d left the pool, and a block away an old lady remembered seeing her pass by as she watered her plants. Two blocks later, Deacon had found a home with a motion-activated smart doorbell. From the far side of the camera, Tisha could be seen walking on the sidewalk, triggering the doorbell to begin recording. She hadn’t gotten but three more steps when a rusted-out car approached her and stopped behind her. A man got out, grabbed Tisha, and in seconds had her in the trunk and drove off.

With the tape in hand, Deacon had taken it to Detective Braxton. They visited the elderly neighbor who recognized the car as one of their neighbor’s deadbeat sons. It was only a short matter of time before they had the address for the trailer and were hoping to rescue Tisha.

“I’ll take the suspect down. You stay here,” Detective Braxton whispered as she drew her gun.

Deacon waited as Braxton announced herself and then charged into the trailer. The small bathroom window slid open and the scrawny man from the security footage wiggled out. As he came to his feet, he jumped back in surprise at seeing Deacon.

“Hiya.” Deacon smiled as he rammed his fist into the man’s chin, sending him sliding down the side of the trailer. Braxton ran out of the trailer with her arm around Tisha and looked at the unconscious suspect. “He fell trying to get out of the window. Slammed his chin right onto the ground.”

Detective Braxton just shook her head and called in the EMTs.

“Tisha,” Deacon said, kneeling in front of the tattered and tear-stained girl. Her black braided hair was sticking out in all directions as she clung to the detective. “My name is Deacon McKnight. Your parents, Tyler and Jayla, hired me to find you. Why don’t we call them so they know you’re safe? Would you like that?”

Tisha nodded her head as Deacon entered the number. “We have her. Hold on.”

Tisha grabbed the phone. “Mommy?”

Two hours later, Deacon drove up his long driveway. It was dark, but he had waited until Tisha’s parents met her at the hospital before declaring the case closed. The sound of a barking dog reached him as soon as the garage door began rising. Before he could even pull in, the door opened and his wife stood outlined by the kitchen lights.

“Is she safe?” Sydney asked, hurrying down to him as Robyn, their rust-colored vizsla, bounded around carrying a small stuffed toy.

“Yes. Her parents are with her now. The guy thought he could sell her for drugs. Needless to say, he got that idea while high. Then he didn’t know what to do with her when he crashed. So he stole money from her backpack and got high again, leaving her tied to the kitchen table.”

Deacon kissed his wife and felt centered again. No matter how many bad things he saw while working, Sydney was his light.

“This probably isn’t the right time to tell you that your father sent us something.”

Deacon grumbled as he walked inside. “What now?”

“Your old crib.” Sydney stepped out of his way to where the crib that had been in the McKnight family for generations stood freshly stained.

“Anything else I should know about?” Deacon asked, collapsing onto the couch.

“Yes, there’s a surprise party for the Rose sisters’ hundredth birthday in two days. Taylor called me and asked me to make dresses for the ladies to change into once there. It’s a Southern Gatsby theme.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Sydney rolled her eyes. “You grew up in Atlanta society and you can’t figure that out?”

“What do I need to do?” Deacon asked, trying to not think about all the horrible cotillions he’d been to as a young man.

“Lots and lots of cups. Poppy and Zinnia have been recruited to make a massive amount of Rose sisters’ iced tea,” Sydney called out as Robyn attacked the toy before grabbing it and running around the living room as fast as she could.

Deacon grasped Sydney’s wrist as she walked by and pulled her into his lap. “Sounds like you’re going to be busy making dresses. Do you have time with your summer line launching?”

“Syd Inc. is a well-oiled machine. The launch has been great. The review on the clothes has been fantastic. I can afford to take some time off, especially for the Rose sisters.”

“I can think of something to do on your time off,” Deacon murmured as he ran his lips over her neck.

“Mmm. And what’s that?” Sydney asked breathily.

“I think it’s about time to get to work on filling that crib.”

* * *

Mila Ali Rahman swallowed hard as she looked at the pregnancy test. She heard Zain let out a deep ragged breath.

“Negative. Again.” Mila’s voice came out hoarsely as disappointment strangled her.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. We have fun trying, and that’s the important part,” Zain said, trying to put her at ease.

“No, it’s not.” Mila struggled to hold back the tears. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to have people constantly staring at my stomach? What it’s like to have your mom leaving me baby blankets and your dad suggesting baby names? What it’s like to have a freaking king ask if you’re ovulating? Making a baby should be fun and filled with love. Instead, I’m feeling crushed from the pressure to produce the Prince of Rahmi’s heir.”

Mila finally felt the levee of tears break. Sobs wracked her body as the pregnancy test fell to the floor. Of course there was a knock at the door at that exact moment. Trembling with emotional exhaustion, Mila pulled away. Zain didn’t free her from his grasp.

“Ignore it. You’re more important than anything or anyone at the door.” Zain brushed back her curly hair and kissed her softly. “Sweetheart, it’s only been five months. The doctor warned it could take a while. Don’t lose hope.”

“But what if I can’t—” The doorbell rang.

“I don’t care if we can’t have a baby. Mila, you’re what matters to me.”

Mila wanted to believe it. “But the king, the royal line . . .” People thought it was a fairy tale come true to marry a prince. And it was, mostly. But there was also an inordinate amount of pressure and lack of privacy.

“Gabe can handle it. Gosh knows he’s getting enough practice,” Zain said of his younger-by-a-couple-minutes twin brother.

“Then all hope is lost because the Playboy Prince will never settle down.” Mila hiccupped as she laughed.

The doorbell rang again. “Zain! Mila!”

Mila let her head fall back. “Would you see what your mom wants?”

Zain kissed her again. “I’ll be right back.”

Zain hurried to answer the door. “What, Mom?” He loved his mother. Really, he did. But right now wasn’t the best time for her to barge in.

“What took you so long?” she asked hopefully.

“If I don’t answer the door, there’s a reason.”

In that second, his teasing mother saw the look on his face. “What is it?” She grabbed his hand, looking over his body for an injury. “Mila? Is Mila okay?”

Zain paused a heartbeat too long. His mother sucked in a breath. “Mila!”

“Mom,” Zain snapped. “Not now.”

His mom froze in her steps and took a deep breath. “Is she okay?”

“She’s resting now. What did you need so badly that it couldn’t wait?”

“Did you know it is the Rose sisters’ hundredth birthday?”

“No, I didn’t.” The Rose sisters were the heart of the town, but right now Zain was having trouble focusing on anything outside of their home.

“We’re having a surprise party at the Ashtons’ farm the day after tomorrow. I wanted to ask if you and Mila could supply drinks. Juice for the kids and good stuff for the adults. Oh, and I have something out in the car for you, but it’s heavy. Can you get it for me?”

“Sure. I’ll be right back.”

Dani didn’t even wait for the door to close before she ran up the stairs. Her heart sank as she found Mila muffling her cries into a towel on the bathroom floor. Flashbacks of herself on the cold tile floor as she lost her baby hit Dani hard and fast. Without saying a word, she knelt down next to Mila and pulled her close. The negative pregnancy test sat at her feet.

Dani stroked Mila’s hair as she heard her son’s footsteps pounding up the stairs. He stopped with murder in his eyes as she shooed him out. She knew the look, but she also knew there were some things only another woman could understand. Zain looked pissed, but he took a step back.

“Cry all you want, my dear. It hurts so badly. I know, trust me.”

“You don’t know!” Mila yelled. Dani remembered the anger well.

“But I do,” Dani said softly. “I lost two children from miscarriages. But out of that darkness came the lights of my life. After each miscarriage, I became pregnant. And I know about the pressure, Mila. I know I get carried away thinking of grandchildren, but never think that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I’d rather have you and Zain happy and healthy with no children than have you unhappy and hurt if you can’t have them.”

“The king—” Mila started, sniffling.

“Can chill. The line will be fine. It just means I’ll turn my focus to Gabe for a while,” Dani said truthfully. She’d been worried that something was bothering Mila. Dani, of everyone, should have understood it. She felt shame and guilt for the pressure she’d put on her daughter-in-law, even though it was done so good-naturedly. “I won’t ask again unless you want me to. And my door is always open if you need to talk.”

Mila nodded but still couldn’t bring herself to smile. Dani kissed her cheek and motioned for Zain to come back. Zain reached down and picked up his wife and carried her to bed as Dani walked slowly down the stairs.

“I’ll be right back,” Zain whispered to her.

Zain tucked Mila into bed and followed his mom downstairs. “Right after the party I’m going to take Mila away.”

“You’re a good husband, Zain. I’m very proud of you. And may I recommend the family house in the Bahamas? I’ll make sure no one bothers you while you’re there. And I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have put that pressure on you. I, of all people, should have known better.”

“I know it was out of love, Mom.”

“It doesn’t matter. Just remember, your father and I are here if you need anything. See you at the party, son, and only if you two feel like it.”

Zain kissed his mother’s cheek and pulled out his phone. A couple weeks on the family’s private island sounded like the perfect escape.