Authors: Sydney Logan
Three o’clock on a weekday is like Christmas morning to us. It’s the time we join hands and walk to the end of the driveway in anticipation of the big yellow school bus that brings Gabriel Cooper Summers home to us each day. The mere size of the bus—not to mention the rowdy kids on it—had nearly given us both heart attacks on the first day, but our independent son is determined to ride the bus to
and
from school.
Mom and Dad aren’t handling it well at all.
The transition from preschool to kindergarten has been a tough one. For
us
. Preschool had been such a breeze. We took him to school, and then we picked him up right after lunch.
Kindergarten is all day, every day.
We hate it.
Coop loves it.
Every day, he picks an apple from one of the trees in the backyard, and he takes it to his teacher. He’s sweet, kind, and the smartest kid in his class—according to his teacher, Miss Chrissy.
Of course, she may be swayed by all the apples.
Or that Summers’ charm.
Both are pretty potent.
The grandparents say we should be proud because we’re obviously raising a strong and confident young man, and we
are
proud, but that doesn’t change the fact our kid is growing up way too fast.
Ethan’s answer to that? Have another baby.
We’re trying.
Minnie and Joe still come to the house for dinner every night, but now, we share the cooking duties. Gabe always comes for supper, too, and like everyone else in the family, he spoils Coop rotten.
Our lives have changed dramatically over the past six years. After signing the deal with the Feds, Ethan and I moved to Tennessee. Despite Angela’s best efforts, Gabe did go to prison. She convinced him to plead guilty to a lesser charge of manslaughter—an offer both the agents and judge were comfortable with considering the circumstances surrounding Stavros Peri’s death. Thanks to prison overcrowding and Gabe’s good behavior, he was released after three years and has lived close to us ever since. He’s still Ethan’s pilot, and his closet friend, and he’s Uncle Gabe to our son.
Jason and Cara are now married and living in Nashville. Together, they handle the day-to-day operations of the security company the four of us founded nearly three years ago. Stonewall Technologies, named after Coop’s favorite Civil War hero, is thriving and wildly successful. Jason and Cara are happy to handle the daily operations while Ethan and I go to Nashville whenever we’re needed. Ironically enough, our biggest clients are casinos. Our years of bypassing their security measures assure the owners that there’s nobody more qualified to protect their casinos than two reformed con artists.
Ethan and I had gotten married at the cabin two months before the baby arrived. He’d proposed every single day after we moved to Tennessee, but it’d taken him months to finally convince me. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be his wife. Our lives had just changed so dramatically and quickly, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to add one more monumental event to our already complicated world. Ethan was patient, but it was after a visit to Coop and Abby’s graves that I decided I was being selfish and wasting precious time.
When he proposed again the next day, I’d finally said yes.
For two reformed crooks, our lives are amazingly normal. I’m a member of the school’s PTA and a parent volunteer in Coop’s class. And even though he doesn’t know a thing about the game, Ethan helps coach Coop’s little league soccer team. We’re model citizens, just like we’d promised, and we’ve carved out a little place in the mountains to live our lives, love each other, and raise our son.
“You’re quiet,” Ethan says as we walk along the gravel driveway. He wants to pave it, but I won’t let him. I like the sound of crunching gravel beneath my feet. It reminds me that I have a real home.
“Just thinking.”
Our linked hands swing between us as we walk.
“What about?”
“Our life.”
“You’re happy, aren’t you?”
He’s always afraid that our quiet, routine life will begin to suffocate me after a while.
“Blissfully happy.”
We share a smile and continue to walk. In the distance, we hear the bus as it rumbles up the road, and we quicken our steps. By the time we reach the end of the driveway, the bus is there. We wave at the driver while our little man climbs down the steps. He’s a carbon copy of his father—with bright blue eyes and a crooked smile that melts my heart.
“How was school?” Ethan asks.
We take Coop’s hand, and he walks between us as we make our way back to the house.
“It was good,” Coop says. “We added big numbers today.”
“Big numbers?”
“Like five plus five and seven plus three.”
We listen with rapt attention as he tells us all about his day. He made a new friend named Jodie, but this new friendship is confusing him.
“But she’s a girl. I can’t be friends with a girl.”
Ethan grins down at our son. “Why can’t you?”
“Because she’s a girl!”
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
“Your mom is my best friend and she’s a girl.”
“No, she’s your
wife
.” Coop’s face scrunches in horror. “Wait. If Jodie’s my friend, do I have to marry her?”
“No, you don’t have to marry her,” Ethan assures him. “You can just be best friends.”
We reach the house, but instead of heading inside, we walk around to the backyard.
“I wonder if she likes apples,” Coop says. He drops his backpack and rushes toward the apple tree. Ethan follows him and lifts him onto his shoulders. Together, they pick two apples—one for the teacher, and for the new girlfriend.
It hurts my heart, just a little.
Once we’re inside the house, Ethan and Coop head to the living room while I start dinner. I’ve just started to mash the potatoes when Gabe appears in the kitchen door. He doesn’t even bother knocking before making his way inside.
I smile. “Hey, you.”
“Hey, yourself.” Gabe kisses my cheek before sneaking a peek over my shoulder. “Mashed?”
“Of course. My picky boys won’t eat anything else.”
He grins and sits down at the table to read the paper. Suddenly, we hear my sweet son’s voice echo from the living room.
“Hit me, Daddy!”
I drop the potato masher. Gabe laughs. If this were any other house, those words would strike terror in my heart. As it is, I know exactly what’s going on.
“I’m gonna kill my husband.”
Gabe chuckles from behind his newspaper while I rush toward the living room. Just as I suspect, Ethan and our son are sitting in the middle of the floor.
Playing blackjack.
I clear my throat.
Ethan, who’s too afraid to look at me, keeps his eyes on his cards. Coop grins brightly when I walk into the room.
“Hi, Mommy. Do you want Daddy to deal you in?”
I sigh.
The kid even knows the lingo.
“What are you two doing?”
“Playing blackjack,” Coop says proudly.
“No, son, remember? We’re playing a
math
game.” Ethan’s guilty eyes finally find mine. “He . . . uh . . . needs help with his addition.”
Coop points to one of his cards. “See, Mommy? That’s a queen. She’s ten.”
“Uh huh.”
“And my other card is a three. Ten plus three.”
“And what is ten plus three?” Ethan asks.
Coop’s forehead creases as he counts on his fingers.
“Thir . . . teen?” He sounds unsure.
“Good job, buddy!” Ethan and Coop do their little celebratory fist bump that’s too cute for words. “See, baby? Educational.”
“Hmm.”
I sit down on the floor with them. I’m grateful to see the only things in their hands are playing cards. I’d nearly had a stroke the last time they played . . . when I saw my five-year-old twirling a poker chip between his fingers.
“We aren’t betting, Mommy.”
“I’m very glad to hear that.”
“Daddy says you don’t like it when we play with the chips.”
“Daddy’s right.”
It’s irrational, I know. We’re never tempted to go back to that life. I just want our past to stay in the past, right where it belongs.
It’s not long before Minnie and Joe arrive, and all of us gather around the table for dinner. It’s Friday, which means Gabe and Joe get to fight over which uncle gets to take Coop to the movies tonight. It’s a weekly tradition and allows Ethan and me to have a date night of our own.
“Aunt Minnie baked a chocolate cake,” Joe says.
Gabe isn’t about to be outdone. “But I have the Xbox One.”
I’m eternally thankful that my son’s biggest concern in life is choosing between cake and video games.
Coop sighs dramatically.
“I can’t choose,” he says. “I love you both the same.”
With those sweet words, both uncles decide to take him to the movies, and afterwards, the three guys will head back to Minnie’s for cake.
Everyone finally leaves, and Ethan takes me by the hand and leads me upstairs.
That’s the great thing about our date nights. We rarely leave the house.
Lightning dances in the window as I gaze out at the view of the Smokies that surround us. I’m wrapped in only a blanket. Suddenly, I feel Ethan’s eyes on me, and I look away from the mountains and focus on his naked reflection in the glass. He walks up behind me, and my eyes close when he lets his hand drift along my spine and through my hair, pulling it to one side. Warm fingers caress my exposed shoulder before they’re replaced with tender lips.
The blanket falls, and once again, I’m thankful to not have a neighbor for miles.
“I love you,” he whispers breathlessly against my neck. “Promise me it’ll always be like this.”
Ethan doesn’t wait for me to answer. He lifts me into his arms and carries me to our bed, placing me carefully against the pillows before climbing in and hovering above me. As we begin to move, I’m overwhelmed with the knowledge that
this
is my life. It’s a simple one . . . one I’d never imagined because I didn’t think it was possible.
But it was.
It
is
.
Gabe had made it possible by making sure we never had to worry about Stavros ever again. Our parents had made it possible by loving us completely and unconditionally. And Abby and Coop had made it possible by showing us that finding love with the most unlikely of people could truly be the greatest adventure of our lives.
Ethan whispers my name, and I look into his glowing, triumphant eyes. In his baby blues, I can see everything. The distant sadness of our past. The quiet happiness of our present. The joyful hope of our future.
Yes, Ethan, it will always be like this.
That’s a bet I’m more than willing to make.
Can you believe this is my fifth book? Neither can I! As always, I have some very important people to thank.
To my editor, Kathie Spitz, for always working so hard to make my stories the best they can be. Also, thanks to Patti Jaeger and Terri Gislason for reading the early draft and to Shaina Hanson, Sandi Layne, and N.K. Smith for proofreading the final version.
To T.M. Franklin for creating the beautiful cover. More importantly, thank you for being my friend.
To Lindsey Gray for her book formatting services. Thanks for always making time for me.
To Jada D’Lee for creating the fantastic book video trailer. You never fail to impress me.
To my book club on Facebook, but especially to Chris, Jaime, Cynthia, Angie, and Michele. These awesome chicks go above and beyond to tell the world about my books.
To M.B. Feeney who unknowingly gave me advice that led to the publication of this book. I can’t wait to read your next novel!
To JA Hensley who continues to make me pretty swag even though she’s a rock star author now. Thank you for everything!
As always, thank you to the book bloggers who take the time to read, review, and promote my books. I couldn’t do it without you!
Finally, to my family and friends who are always asking “when’s your next book coming out?” Here it is. I hope it makes you proud.