And next to her, holding the woman's hand, was the figure of a man with amber eyes.
Above all three was a big heart. Crooked and oddly sized, but unmistakably a heart.
Daryl titled his head back and laughed.
And somewhere else, high above the angels, another little girl laughed along with him.
Epilogue
Five years later.
A shrill screech emanated from somewhere near the front of the house, slicing through the conversation and making every adult wince. Heads turned toward each other, wary eyes silently questioning as the adults tried to identify which child the scream had come from.
Mac sighed and pushed to his feet. "My turn to go see who's murdering who this time."
He made it three feet before the sound of running steps slapping against refinished plank floors filled the room, growing louder as the large group of children surged toward the vast kitchen of Mac's restored farmhouse. Could six even be considered a large group? Daryl chuckled and shook his head.
Under normal circumstances, no—but the group of children rushing into the kitchen would never be considered normal. The responsibility for that fell directly on their parents' shoulders.
At ten, Paige was the oldest—and usually the ringleader. Her wild mop of curls had fallen from the ribbon Kelsey had carefully placed there this morning. Wide green eyes scanned the room, her impatience clear until her gaze finally landed on Mac.
With a dramatic sigh, Paige swung her arm up, stood on her toes, and pointed one skinny finger in Mac's direction. "It's your son's fault!"
The adults in the room choked back their laughter—both at Paige's dramatic announcement and at the look of sheer terror that briefly crossed Mac's scarred face. He ran one large hand over his jaw, covering a loud sigh.
"What did Lucas do this time?"
Claire—Jon and Sammie's nine-year-old daughter and Paige's accomplice in almost everything—jumped in, her voice a little more serious. "Lucas pushed Alyssa down and told her she couldn't play with his trucks because she's a girl."
Mac closed his eyes, took a deep breath, no doubt ready to bellow his son's name. The boy stomped into the room, his face a combination of mutiny and contrition.
"Lucas, did you push your sister?"
"She was playing with my truck and wouldn't give it back."
"That's not what I asked." Mac crouched next to the little boy. "Now answer the question. Did you push your sister?"
Lucas's lower lip trembled and tears welled in his eyes. "Yes but—"
"No buts. You know better. Now go sit in your chair until I tell you it's time to get up."
"But Dad, you have to tell them!"
"Tell them what?"
Lucas pointed an accusing finger at the five girls behind him. "Tell them that girls can't play with trucks because they're not boys!"
The five girls moved in closer, surrounding the single male like sharks circling helpless prey.
Paige and Claire.
Claire's five-year-old sister, Tessa.
Alyssa, Mac and TR's youngest and, at only two, the youngest of the bunch.
And three-year-old Caroline, who stared back at the young boy with all of her mother's sass—and her father's amber eyes. She stepped closer, standing toe-to-toe with him even though he was almost a head taller.
"Can, too. Wucas."
Mac covered his mouth with his hand, shot a pleading look at TR. "Babe—"
"Oh no. This one's all on you."
Mac's mouth moved, no doubt in a silent oath. He scooped Lucas into his arms seconds before the females closed in for a kill. "Son, I think it's time we had another little chat. And after that, you're going to sit in your chair as punishment for pushing your sister."
"But—"
"And after that, if you have any sense in that thick skull of yours, you'll learn to play nice and realize when you're outnumbered." Mac paused in the doorway and shot a scowl at the laughing adults over his shoulder. "At least until some of your uncles decide to even the odds for you."
Mac carried Lucas from the room, the girls following him. There was more laughter, accompanied by the clink of silverware against plates as the adults returned to their dessert.
Kelsey leaned over, nudged Daryl in the side with an elbow. "Let's take a walk."
"Now?"
The smile she gave him set him on fire from the inside out—the way it had every day for the last five years. Daryl dropped the fork to his plate, swung his leg over the side of the long bench, and offered Kelsey his hand.
He ignored the teasing comments as he led his wife through the back door and out to the large deck Mac had added to the house a few years ago. "How far are we walking?"
"Right here is fine." Kelsey leaned against the railing and pulled him closer, wrapped her arms around his waist and lifted her head for a kiss. Daryl captured her mouth, deepened the kiss and sighed when she pressed herself even closer. Temptation made his knees weak and it was a struggle not to lift her in his arms and carry her away from the house.
Carry her to someplace private.
No, he couldn't. Not here. But later.
Definitely later.
He pulled away with a soft groan, reached up and brushed the hair from her cheek. "As much as I love kissing you, something tells me that's not why we came out here."
Kelsey smiled, shook her head. "No, it's not. It's, um, about what Mac said."
"What Mac said?" Daryl frowned, tried to recall the other man's words. He was still trying to figure it out when Kelsey's hand closed over his—and pressed it against the flat of her stomach.
Daryl blinked. Swallowed. Blinked again as a shit-eating grin spread across his face. "Are you trying to tell me what I think you're telling me?"
Kelsey laughed. "If you think I'm trying to tell you I'm pregnant, then yes."
Daryl's whoop of excitement was loud enough to be heard inside. He reached for Kelsey, spun her around then placed her on her feet before giving her another kiss. "Do you know—"
"No, not yet. It's too early. And—I wasn't sure if you wanted to find out. Beforehand, I mean."
Did he want to know? Did it matter if it was a boy or a girl? No, it didn't.
He pressed his hand against her stomach once more, imagined he could already feel the life moving beneath his palm. His gaze caught Kelsey's, held it. "Allen. If it's a boy, his name will be Allen."
Tears filled Kelsey's eyes and she quickly blinked them away. "I think Dad would like that."
"Think? Shit. Kelsey, he had this planned all along."
"Had what planned? What are you talking about?"
Daryl pulled her back into his arms and held her. This is where she belonged. Where he belonged.
And it was time he told her.
"Do you remember that letter he left with you? The one with the fake passports that you couldn't read?"
"I—" She frowned, tilted her head to the side then slowly nodded. "I think so. It was the one you found the day we picked up Paige from the children's home, right?"
"Yeah. The one addressed to me."
"I remember." She playfully nudged him in the chest. "You never did tell me what it said."
No, he hadn't—because he'd been furious. Because he'd been convinced his old CO was playing games.
And because he'd been afraid to hope. "I didn't tell you because you would have turned and run and never come back if I had."
"Why would I do that?"
"Because your father knew us both better than we thought."
"Daryl, enough already." She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. "What did the letter say?"
He closed his eyes, saw the letter clear in his mind. Davis's bold handwriting, the words jotted down in his own personal code.
If you ever get around to reading this, one of two things will have happened. I'll hope for the best because the alternative doesn't bear thinking.
You don't owe me anything, son. You never did. Everything yo
u've done, you did on your own. But I'm putting them into your care anyway. My daughter. My granddaughter. My family. They mean the world to me and I know they will never replace what you lost. Nobody can and you shouldn't expect them to. But they're yours now. To love and cherish. Even if you only become their guardian, they're yours to protect as if they were your own. I hope it's more than that. I hope that damn stubborn streak you have doesn't keep you from being happy. I hope the same damn thing for Kelsey, who can be too damn independent for her own good sometimes.
I take the blame for that—she is my daughter, after all. And I'm damn proud of her. Damn proud of you, too.
There you have it. A dying man's wish. Take care of my family like they're your own. Maybe one day, they really will be. I'd like that. Just don't wait until it's too late to find happiness. And remember that sometimes, what you need the most has been right in front of you the whole damn time.
Daryl opened his eyes, met Kelsey's curious gaze. "The gist of it was—he wanted me to have you. Both of you. I think he was hoping that by putting me in charge of your safety, we'd become a real family. That we'd find happiness together."
Kelsey was quiet a long time—almost too long. Daryl started to wonder if he should have told her after all. Or maybe he'd botched the explanation—
His wife leaned up on her toes, gently brushed her mouth against his. "I think Dad was a very smart man who knew exactly what he was doing."
"Yeah. Yeah, I think so, too." He squeezed Kelsey's hand, tugged her toward the house. "Let's go inside, tell everyone the news."
He had opened the door, was ready to follow Kelsey inside when something made him stop and pause. Daryl looked up, saw a shooting star streak across the night sky high above him.
And he swore, for just one second, that he heard laughter.
A young girl's childish giggles, accompanied by an older man's gruff chuckle.
You did good, Daddy.
Yes, he did, Layla. He certainly did.
~ The End ~
If you enjoyed The Guardian: DARYL, I hope you'll take a few minutes to leave a review. Even a short one helps other readers discover my books—and it means so much to me! Thank you!
If you missed the beginning of the Cover Six Security series, you can read it here in Covered By A Kiss, A Cover Six Security novella, available at your favorite digital retailers.
Mac and TR's story begins in the novella above, and continues in book one of the series, The Protector: MAC, available at your favorite digital retailers.
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Can't wait for the newsletter? Want exclusive content before anyone else? How about fun, games, and giveaways? Then please join me and a great group of readers and fans at Kamps Korner on Facebook.
And be sure to keep reading for more information about the next Cover Six Security book, The Defender: RYDER, available May 8!
Special Acknowledgement
The idea for the Cover Six Security series came about when I started the Chesapeake Blades series—particularly book 2, Loving Hard. And the more I played around with it, the more it drew me in.
I had the story ideas. Names for the guys on the team. Their backgrounds. I was ready to go, my fingers itching to get the words on paper.
What I didn't have was a name for the security company. Ideas came to me, only to be deleted because...well, frankly, because they stunk. Then I got stuck.
Like many authors, I have a fabulous reader's group on Facebook: Kamps Korner. And that's where I turned to for help. I threw the question (okay, I begged) to the greatest bunch of readers I know—and they totally came through for me!
There were dozens of suggestions, all of them fantastic—which led to another dilemma: how do I pick one? There were a few that really stood out so I did what any smart author would do: I created a poll and let the readers pick...
And Cover Six Security was born.
Thank you to everyone who offered suggestions—there were so many great ones! And special thanks—and my undying gratitude—to Elizabeth Roney and her Marine husband for the wonderful suggestion! It totally fits. And in Elizabeth's words: "He [her Marine husband] said it would be a good pick up line explaining to the ladies what cover your six means!"
And it totally is—as you'll see in several of the upcoming books!
Elizabeth and your Marine husband—this one is for you! Thank you <3!
The Defender: RYDER
Cover Six Security Book 3
These men never back away from danger—and always fall hard for love in Cover Six Security, an explosive new series from USA Today Bestselling Author Lisa B. Kamps.
Ryder "Boomer" Hess: former Army Ranger. Demolitions expert. Problem solver...and the unluckiest bastard around when it comes to love. Meeting women is never a problem but actually surviving a relationship? Not happening. And all because of his kid sister's best friend.
Hannah Montgomery: professional volunteer. Humanitarian activist. Eternal optimist...and a woman who lost her heart years ago to her best friend's brother. She's learned to turn that heartache into something useful and now loses herself in helping others...until he shows up and turns her world upside down.
When Ryder gets a call that his sister—and Hannah—could be in trouble, he drops everything and rushes to their rescue—and quickly learns that he might be the one who needs rescuing the most. But danger of another sort looms on the horizon and it's up to Ryder to save them. And if he fails, he'll lose a lot more than just his heart this time.
Don't miss the next sizzling title in the Cover Six Security series, The Defender: RYDER—releasing May 8, 2019, and available for pre-order now.
PLAYING THE GAME
The York Bombers Book 1
Harland Day knows what it's like to be on rock bottom: he was there once before, years ago when his mother walked out and left him behind. But he learned how to play the game and survived, crawling his way up with the help of a friend-turned-lover. This time is different: he has nobody to blame but himself for his trip to the bottom. His mouth, his attitude, his crappy play that landed him back in the minors instead of playing pro hockey with the Baltimore Banners. And this time, he doesn't have anyone to help him out, not when his own selfishness killed the most important relationship he ever had.
Courtney Williams' life isn't glamorous or full of fame and fortune but she doesn't need those things to be happy. She of all people knows there are more important things in life. And, for the most part, she's been able to forget what could have been—until Harland gets reassigned to the York Bombers and shows back up in town, full of attitude designed to hide the man underneath. But the arrogant hockey player can't hide from her, the one person who knows him better than anyone else. They had been friends. They had been lovers. And then they had been torn apart by misunderstanding and betrayal.
But some ties are hard to break. Can they look past what had been and move forward to what could be? Or will the sins of the past haunt them even now, all these years later?
Turn the page for a preview of PLAYING THE GAME, the launch title of a brand-new hockey series, now available.
The third drink was still in his hand, virtually untouched. He glanced down at it, briefly wondered if he should just put it down and walk away. It was still early, not even eleven yet. Maybe if he stuck it out for another hour; maybe if he finished this drink and let the whiskey loosen him up. Or maybe if he just paid attention to the girl draped along his side—
Maybe.
He swirled the glass in his hand and brought it to his mouth, taking a long sip of mostly melted ice. The girl next to him—what the fuck was her name?—pushed her body even closer, the swell of her barely-covered breast warm against the bare flesh of his arm.
"So you're a hockey player, right? One of Zach's teammate
s?"
Her breath held a hint of red wine, too sweet. Harland tried not to grimace, pushed the memories at bay as his stomach lurched. He tightened his grip on the glass—if he was too busy holding something, he couldn't put his arm around her or push her away—and glanced down. The girl looked like she was barely old enough to be in this place. A sliver of fright shot through him. They did card here, right? He wasn't about to be busted picking up someone underage, was he?
She had a killer body, slim and lean with just enough muscle tone in her arms and legs to reassure him that she didn't starve herself and probably worked out. Long tanned legs that went on for miles and dainty feet shoved into shoes that had to have heels at least five inches tall. He grimaced and briefly wondered how the hell she was even standing in them.
Of course, she was leaning against him, her full breasts pushing against his arm and chest. Maybe that was because she couldn't stand in those ridiculous heels. Heels like that weren't meant for walking—they were fuck-me heels, meant for the bedroom.
He looked closer, at her platinum-streaked hair carefully crafted in a fuck-me style and held in place by what had to be a full can of hairspray—or whatever the fuck women used nowadays. Thick mascara coated her lashes, or maybe they weren't even her real lashes, now that he was actually looking. No, he doubted they were real. That was a shame because from what he could see, she had pretty eyes, kind of a smoky gray set off by the shimmery eyeshadow coloring her lids. Hell, maybe those eyes weren't even real, maybe they were just colored contacts.
Fuck. Wasn't anything real anymore? Wasn't anyone who they really claimed to be? And why the fuck was he even worried about it when all he had to do was nod and smile and take her by the hand and lead her out? Something told him he wouldn't even have to bother with taking her home—or in his case, to a motel. No, he was pretty sure all he had to do was show her the backseat of his Expedition and that would be it.
Her full lips turned down into a pout and Harland realized she was waiting for him to answer. Yeah, she had asked him a question. What the hell had she asked?
The Guardian: DARYL (Cover Six Security, #2) Page 23
