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“I heard that,” Kin griped. “You know I hate being compared to her. I left my breakup-song era when I married your father.”
“Sure, Mom,” Abi obliged. But she whispered to me, “Her last number-one song was totally a breakup song. That was three months ago. The Blond Bombshells are still in the top ten on the charts with that bad boy.”
Grinning, I stroked my hand down her spine. Winking at me, she turned to her father, who hadn’t looked away from me once. “Dad, this is Vaughn. Uncle Harris has already asked all the questions I’m sure you think are the most important. If you hadn’t been pouting in the car, you would have heard his answers.”
He rocked on the balls of his feet. “Mieke hasn’t gotten back to me with his background check yet.”
“And she won’t. Because there is nothing to report,” Abi told him with a scowl. “I’ve told you all the vital information you need to know. We’re getting married tomorrow. If you’re going to be an asshole about it, don’t show up.”
He flinched, and her tone softened. “But if you want me to be happy, then please be nice and come say hello to the new members of my family.”
Jace continued to stare me down. Feeling how tense it was making Abi, I held out my hand to him. “I love her more than anything or anyone. This might seem sudden to you, but I’ve waited my whole life for her. I don’t need more time to know she’s it for me. You and I don’t have to be friends. We just have to love her.”
With a growled curse, he shook my hand harder than Harris had earlier. I almost laughed, but I stopped myself before my lips began to twitch. Turning, I waved my hand toward the table. “This is my…family.”
“Our family,” Abi corrected, taking my hand and tugging me toward a chair. When she stopped beside Anya, my mother stood and the two of them hugged, causing Samara and me both to tense, but Abi insisted her new mother-in-law was harmless. My sister and I were going to ensure that she kept thinking that about Anya. “I’m so glad you could make it. Is everything okay? Do you or Cristiano need anything?”
“Everything is perfect, milaya devushka,” Anya told her with a warm smile. “Thank you for including us. It means the world to me.”
Kin and Jace were introduced around the table, nodding at my brother and brother-in-law, shaking my father’s hand, hugging Nova and Anya. Samara stayed seated but was her typical friendly self. Lovable and chipper to the outside world, a ball of insanity on the inside. Her smile never wavered as she spoke to Abi’s family members, but her gaze always went back to our mother.
Dinner passed quickly with the others getting to know one another. Elias and Nova were good at keeping the conversation flowing. Anytime Cristiano got that confused, unfocused look on his face, Samara was quick to distract him.
Hayat, seated on the other side of Abi, leaned toward us. “Hey. So…um, this is last minute. But that seems to be your thing since you two planned an entire-ass wedding in twenty-four hours. But can I bring a date to the wedding?”
Abi was already nodding before her friend finished speaking. “Of course. But are you sure? If you bring him, there will be no more hiding it from Maddie.”
“Seeing you so destroyed these last few weeks, I realized I had to take a chance. What happens, happens, right?”
epilogue
VAUGHN
THREE YEARS LATER
Hearing giggles, I kept my gaze on my computer screen and not the little ball of pink trying to crawl toward me with a Nerf gun in her hand. My fingers flew over the keys, making an adjustment to the new code that would lock down the latest human trafficking ring that was affecting the entire West Coast. The majority of my time online was spent attempting to make the world a little safer for my sweet girls.
Once I hit enter, the bank accounts of the current bidders for a group of children ranging in age from five to sixteen were emptied. When the site went dark, I knew the church where the victims were being held had been raided.
Shutting off my systems, I turned in time to catch the flying dart that had been headed straight for the back of my head. I made a growly noise and lunged forward, causing Amala to squeal.
“Abort mission!” Samara hissed from the two-way radio clipped to my daughter’s chest along with her rows of extra bullets. “Abort!”
Wild giggles echoed through my office and down the halls as I raced after Amala. Her legs might have been little, but they were fast as lightning. Grabbing her from behind, I tossed her up in the air, causing her russet pigtails to swing. Her happy giggles were my second-favorite sound in the world. Catching her, I covered her face with kisses as I carried her into the kitchen.
After we’d gotten married, Abi couldn’t decide if she wanted to stay close to her parents and Hayat, be near my parents, or go back to Creswell Springs. When she’d cried herself to sleep because she couldn’t choose, I’d bought her three houses and gifted them to her when we returned from our honeymoon.
We divided our time throughout each year, spending a few months in Malibu, Creswell Springs, and New York. The kind of mood my wife was in determined where we were. Creswell Springs was where Samara was, and Malibu was Hayat. Our time in New York was always shorter, but Abi enjoyed the visits with my parents. Whenever we weren’t in New York, however, Anya dropped by to see us every few weeks.
“Babushka!” Amala cried as we entered the kitchen of our beach house. “Papa caught me. Helps!”
Anya wiped her hands on a dishcloth, her apron covered in flour as she and Kin worked on prepping the holiday meal. It was our turn to host Thanksgiving, but my wife was no chef. Our mothers refused to let Abi in the kitchen when it came to handling the turkey.
“Where is your partner in crime, moya kroshka?” Anya crossed to us. Reaching up, she patted my cheek. It always made Abi smile when my mother showed me affection. And because it made my sweet girl happy, I allowed it.
“Tetka is on a special mission,” Amala whispered loud enough for Kin and the two house managers we employed to hear across the huge kitchen. “I’m not ’posed to say where.”
“Amala, that means you aren’t supposed to tell your babushka either,” Samara muttered through the two-way radio, letting us all know she was close enough that she didn’t need the radio.
