LITMIR.BIZ

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shook her head and shifted her gaze to the water.

      “Mills... I would love to have more time with you, more than anything, but it’s not something you can just wish for and make it happen, like getting your ears pierced. This as a two-parent decision. Daddy and I have to talk about this together and make sure we’re doing what’s best for you.”

      “Why wouldn’t it be good for me? It’s good for Jason. It’s good for Cady.”

      Heather had no idea what had happened between Jason’s parents, but she was almost positive that there was a lot less history—and hurt—between Xander and Darcy than there was between her and Hank. Negotiating joint custody was probably a lot easier when one party hadn’t inflicted the kind of wounds that Heather had. She had been amazed when Hank had been able to remarry. Amazed, and truly glad for him. He was a good guy. He deserved the happiness he had found with Brynn and their new son.

      Heather would never have the guts to try marriage again.

      “I know that it looks like it would be good, Mills, but there are things that adults have to discuss. Like schedules, and is this a good time to make this change, and how would we make it happen. And let’s face it. You and Daddy have something pretty special. He might need time to get used to the idea.”

      Time, and maybe a large dose of a really strong sedative.

      Because Heather knew what had gone through Hank’s head when Millie brought her request. He would have focused on their past. He would have relived—justifiably—the night when Heather had walked out on him and Millie. Walked out and hopped on a plane and put three-quarters of a continent between them.

      How was Heather supposed to encourage Millie when every objection Hank could raise was true?

      Millie turned away from the water, hands shoved in her pockets, and shuffled down the dock. “I don’t think the turtle is coming back today,” she said in a tiny voice.

      Oh hell.

      “Millie... Listen. I can’t make any promises, but we...well, we can try. But we have to take it slow. Give Daddy time. You do some more thinking about what you would like. I’ll figure out grown-up details and prepare my pitch, just like I would at work. And then when the time is right—” God give me strength “—I’ll talk to Daddy.”

      “Okay.”

      “And maybe for now, we can keep an eye open for extra days. You know, like, we could have an extra outing on a weekend when there’s some special girl thing happening.”

      “Like when I need to do stuff for a badge?”

      Heather was already a big fan of the Girl Guides of Canada for the experiences they provided Millie. But as she thought of the many opportunities for mother-daughter bonding that came with the group’s activities, she was triply glad that Millie had joined.

      “Absolutely for a badge. Or to get your hair cut, or do some shopping for school or whatever. Daddy and Brynn are still getting used to life with baby Noah, so it will be good for you and me, and it will help them at the same time.” Inspiration hit like a flash of sunlight on the water. “And you know what else? We talked about painting your room at my place, but the time kind of slipped away. How about we start on that, now that the weather is nice?”

      “That would be awesome, Mom! Can it be purple, maybe? Or do they make glow-in-the-dark paint for stars?”

      “I bet we can find some stickers for that.”

      “Okay. Is it time to eat yet? I’m hungry.”

      Ah, that was far more like the optimistic girlie that Heather knew. She pushed to her feet, grabbed Millie’s hands to pull her up and tugged the child close for a fast hug and a kiss on the top of her head.

      “Do you know how much I love you, kiddo?”

      “To the moon and back.”

      “You got it.”

      Hand in hand, they followed their noses back to the gathering. Millie chattered and jumped and raced ahead and back like the friskiest of puppies, and Heather reveled in every minute of it.

      Did she want more time with Millie? God yes. The problem—no, the challenge—would be in finding the way to make it happen without disturbing the peace.

      Heather knew what it was to grow up in a home where the only constants were disruption and fear. Millie would never know anything as messed up as Heather’s childhood, thankfully, but that didn’t mean that Heather could be cavalier about upsetting the status quo—especially when she knew that Hank had already rejected the idea. She had to find a way to turn this into a logical, reasonable next step instead of a point of disruption. She had played hell with Millie’s life once. She would not do it again.

      All she needed was a plan.

      * * *

      XANDER WAS A MAN who trusted his gut. And as he laughed his way through the party and helped Cady open more presents than any two-year-old could use, his gut kept whispering that he should check on Heather.

      Not that anything was obviously wrong. She sang “Happy Birthday” with everyone else, talked to everyone, laughed and goofed around with Millie. But he couldn’t dismiss the way she had tensed up over Millie’s question. The wonder in her eyes hadn’t exactly meshed with the way she closed in on herself, arms and legs and everything pulling in tight. Like she was afraid that if she let anything free, she would lose it.

      He pushed his worries to the back burner while the party was in full swing. Not only was this Cady’s birthday, it was the first time he’d celebrated it with her. A year ago at this time, he hadn’t even known she was alive. Now, though, she was the reason he was alive—or at the very least, the reason he was living this life. He wasn’t taking any of this for granted.

      He memorized the sound of her squeals when she spotted her Winnie the Pooh cupcake. He soaked in the sight of her chipmunk cheeks as she tried to blow out her candles and bit back his laughter at the confusion on her face when her attempts left the candles blazing despite the hefty showering of spit she sprayed over the frosting.

      Yeah, Darcy had been right to insist on Cady attacking an individual cake instead of the big one intended for sharing.

      But when the candles continued to flicker and the twist to Cady’s mouth started the descent from gamely trying to core meltdown imminent, he squatted beside her and tapped her cheek.

      “Want some help, Cady?”

      Her quivering chin was his only reply.

      On Cady’s other side, Darcy imitated his stance. “Here, sweetie. Let’s all do it together. You, me, Daddy and Ian.”

      Darcy took Cady’s hand and extended the other toward her fiancé, who joined the circle.

      Xander had never believed that line about it taking a village to raise a child until this moment, seeing how three adults were required to help a kid blow out two candles.

      But then, the slightly-odd-but-definitely-working family they had built over the past year was almost a small village in itself. And none of them would be here, now, if not for the others.

      If Xander hadn’t decided to spend a few weeks crashing with his old university roomie Ian...if Ian hadn’t been renting a garage apartment from Darcy...if Ian hadn’t been out of town the weekend Darcy’s rat bastard ex-boyfriend dumped her, leaving her in need of a shoulder, a stiff drink and some unexpected comfort...

      None of it had been planned. Not him and Darcy ending up drunk. Or horizontal. Or—as he found out when he came back two years later—parents.

      “One...two...” Darcy guided Cady forward.

      Change any one of those factors, and none of them would be here. Because without that perfect storm of events and timing, Cady would never have been born. And Darcy would never have turned to Ian for help that became friendship that turned into something

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