Their Second-Time Valentine

by Helen Lacey

  He chuckled. “Promise me something?”

  “Anything.”

  “Always tell me what you’re feeling—even if it’s hard to say.”

  She nodded. “You know that about me, right? That I find it difficult to admit things...to say what I’m feeling and why and how.”

  “I know. Trust is something we earn with the people we love.”

  “I do trust you, Kane.”

  “I trust you, too, more than I’ve ever trusted anyone,” he admitted. “Like I told you, I’ve never been able to talk about my dyslexia so openly, like I can with you. For the first time in my life I don’t feel judged.”

  “You won’t ever be,” she said gently. “I think you’re smart and amazing and I love the stories you tell Erin. And you’re right about trust, which is why I promise I’ll always talk to you and be honest about how I’m feeling and what I’m scared of. Because I don’t want Erin to grow up like me. I want her to feel safe and loved, like you were growing up. I want her to know that she has parents who love and protect her and will always be there for her.”

  Kane stilled, watching her. “Parents?”

  She ran her fingers down his cheek. “Well, I was hoping that since you love me, and I love you, that you’d like to marry me one day.”

  His heart almost imploded. “Are you proposing?”

  She smiled. “Yeah... I guess I am.”

  “Well,” he said, and entwined their fingers. “I’m a little old-fashioned, so very soon, when the time is right, I’d probably like to get a diamond, find a nice romantic place, and get down on my knee and ask you myself.” He paused, looking at her hand. “You took off your ring?”

  She gestured to her right hand. “I moved it,” she said quietly. “To make room for...us. Is that okay?”

  He nodded. “It’s more than okay.”

  “It felt like the right thing to do and I don’t think Frank would mind. In fact, I think he would absolutely approve of you. I think he’d say that there’s no man better, or with more integrity, that I could find to help me raise Erin.”

  Kane swallowed the emotion in his throat. “I do love her a lot, you know.”

  “I know. And she loves you. She’s missed you so much this past week. She’s been waiting by the window, looking for your truck, walking around the house with books in her hand. You know, she figured out how wonderful you are from that first day.”

  “Smart kid.”

  “I want a few more, just so you know,” she said, threading her fingers through his hair.

  “No problem. I look forward to making babies with you.”

  She smiled and kissed his cheek, his jaw, his mouth. “You’re perfect, you know that?”

  He laughed. “No, I’m not, but it’s nice that you think so. Did you know that Adam and Laurel set this meeting up today? He said I’ve been unbearable this past week. I think that’s why he was happy to shuffle me off to New York for a week—so he didn’t have to see me pining like an orphaned puppy, I think he called it.”

  She laughed. “You have such a wonderful family.”

  He nodded. “They’ll be your family, too, now. And speaking of that, I’ll have to rebook my flight. My parents will want to meet you and Erin, so we can all go together. What do you think?”

  “I’ve never been to New York.”

  “I’d love to show it to you. And then we’ll come back here and get married and start making those babies.”

  She laughed. “That’s a great idea. And I’ve decided that once I finish my degree, I am going to hit one of your rich cousins up for the job of my dreams and I plan on being a working career mom.”

  Kane had no problem with it. “I’m sure we’ll manage to juggle work and parenting just fine. I should tell you that I’ve accepted an offer from Callum as a project manager for his newest venture.”

  “That’s wonderful,” she said and smiled. “Will you move in with me? Like soon?”

  “Yes,” he replied. “Your house feels very much like a home.”

  “Our home now,” she corrected. “Although if we have a bunch of babies, we’re probably going to have to build on a few extra rooms.”

  “I know a guy who can do that,” he said, and chuckled. “I’ll build you as many rooms as you need.”

  “I’m so happy to hear it,” she said, grinning. “Erin’s going to make such a great big sister.”

  “Layla,” he said, “let’s go and get her.”

  They got out of the car and linked their hands as they headed into the building. The receptionist recognized them both and within minutes, Erin was brought out to them. She spotted Kane and squealed with delight, racing toward him, her small arms outstretched, running on her sparkly pink sneakers. He scooped her up into his arms and she hugged his neck, holding on to him so tightly he could feel emotion burning in his chest.

  “Dada!”

  It was the most wonderful word—perhaps more meaningful to him because the little girl and her mom, whom he loved so much, had chosen to love him in return.

  “I missed you, kiddo,” he said, and kissed her forehead. “And I promise I’m gonna be around every day from now on.”

  Layla smiled warmly and linked her arm through his and he bent down to kiss her. He had everything he’d ever wanted right in front of him.

  He was the most fortunate Fortune he knew.

  And with his family in his arms, the future had never looked brighter.

  * * *

  Look for the next book in the new Harlequin Special Edition continuity The Fortunes of Texas: The Hotel Fortune

  An Unexpected Father

  by USA TODAY bestselling author Marie Ferrarella

  On sale March 2021 wherever Harlequin books and ebooks are sold.

  And catch up with the previous Fortunes of Texas title:

  Her Texas New Year’s Wish

  by Michelle Major

  Available now!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from The Home They Built by Shannon Stacey.

  WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK FROM

  Believe in love. Overcome obstacles. Find happiness.

  Relate to finding comfort and strength in the support of loved ones and enjoy the journey no matter what life throws your way.

  6 NEW BOOKS AVAILABLE EVERY MONTH!

  The Home They Built

  by Shannon Stacey

  Chapter One

  “You are not even going to believe what your grandmother did now.”

  Finn Weaver wasn’t sure how many conversations with his parents had begun with those words, but he’d put his money on at least half of them. “It can’t be that bad, Mom. On a scale of going to the market in her pajamas to the time she got a pet goat and tried to train it to live in the house, how bad is it?”

  His mother sighed, and it sounded loud even over the phone. “If she bought an entire herd of goats and knit them matching sweater vests—no, if she stole the goats matching sweater vests from the ski shop—it still wouldn’t be as bad as what she’s done now.”

  “Hold on. Let me sit down.” Finn walked across his office and sat in his plush leather executive chair, spinning it to look out over the view of the Piscataqua River.

  “I don’t think sitting down is going to help,” she said.

  “Does she need bail money?”

  “I wish it were that simple.”

  That didn’t sound good. “What’s worse than Gram being arrested?”

  “Well, let’s start with the fact she expects you to come home for a few weeks to aid and abet her.”

  “You mean that figuratively, right?” When it came to Gram, he could never be sure.

  “Literally,” his mother snapped. “We all get to take part in defrauding a popular television show in a way that’s definitely wrong and probably criminal.”
>
  That didn’t make any sense. While Gram’s shenanigans could be legendary, neither of his parents had ever even had a speeding ticket. They didn’t do shenanigans. “We’re not taking part in that. I’ll call her and talk her out of whatever it is she’s up to.”

  “She already signed the contract.”

  Groaning, Finn leaned forward so he could rest his forehead on his hand. He should probably take some preemptory ibuprofen because this was going to be one hell of a headache. “I feel like defrauding and criminal are the words I should be focusing on, but, to be honest, I’m a little hung up on the expectation I can just drop everything and hang out in Blackberry Bay for a few weeks.”

  “It gets better.” His mom paused, as if waiting for his reaction, but he couldn’t manage more than a weary sigh. “She needs you here by ten tomorrow morning.”

  Gram had a bad habit of waiting until the last second to drop bombs because it didn’t give a person time to get out of the way. And no matter how often her loved ones complained, she didn’t change her strategy, because it was effective.

  He looked up, his gaze fixed not on the river this time, but on his own faint reflection in the window. He looked like a grown man. Dark hair kept neatly trimmed. His suit coat hung by the door and his shirt sleeves were rolled up, but he was still wearing the boring maroon tie. It was the reflection of a professional adult who had a business to run.

  But it didn’t show the grandson on the inside who had a soft spot for the woman who kept their lives in a constant state of low-level disarray, with occasional spikes of straight-up chaos. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for Gram, but this...

  “I know,” his mom said softly, even though he hadn’t said anything yet. “But your father and I think she could really get in trouble this time, and unless you can find a loophole in the legal crap your father couldn’t, we might have to go along with this scheme she’s concocted.”

  “What exactly are—” He paused. “No, don’t tell me. I have a feeling the more I know, the less I’m going to want to show up for it. I’ll be at Gram’s by ten tomorrow, but I’m not making any promises about staying.”

  “Thank you, Finn. And Gram said you should bring some old jeans, too. And work boots.”

  “What?” But his mother, smart woman that she was, had already disconnected.

  He dropped his cell phone on his desk and leaned back in his chair. “Unbelievable.”

  “A few weeks? You’ve gotta be kidding.”

  The screen between the two desks didn’t offer much in the way of privacy. It existed more to keep him and Tom Brisbin, his business partner, from throwing balled-up paper or shooting rubber bands at each other during working hours.

  “It’s about Gram,” Finn replied. Tom had known his family long enough so he didn’t feel a need to say more.

  “It always is.” A low chuckle filtered through the screen. “I love that woman.”

  So did Finn, which was the only reason he rolled into Blackberry Bay at ten minutes before ten the following morning. The quaint little town nestled around a bay off Lake Winnipesauke attracted tourists year-round, thanks to their proximity to a popular ski area as well as the water, but summer was their booming season and he had to roll the big Harley-Davidson to a stop at what felt like every crosswalk in town.

  He had clothing and toiletry staples in one of the big side bags and what amounted to a mobile office in the other, because he hadn’t wanted to pack up his truck and give his family the impression he was on board with an extended stay. After going over the calendar, he and Tom had marked the meetings Finn couldn’t miss, but there was no reason he had to be in the office otherwise. The day-to-day of their financial management company could be run from practically anywhere, but he didn’t want anybody to know that. Especially Gram.

  Because three road construction zones in twenty miles had slowed him down, Finn went straight through the intersection with the right turn that would lead to his parents’ house, figuring they’d already left, and followed the bay for another mile and a half, until he came to the winding driveway leading up to his grandmother’s house.

  Finn’s grandfather—may he rest in peace—had been one for maintaining appearances, and the outside of the massive Victorian on the hill, overlooking Blackberry Bay, was in pretty good shape, though it was starting to show some wear and tear. The clapboard siding—some original and some not—was painted a muted salmon color and the door and many windows were trimmed in a cream color. It caught the eye without being garish. Blackberry Bay didn’t do garish.

  The two-car garage that had been built to replace a torn-down barn, as well as an original shed that was almost as big as the garage, were painted to match, and if there was one thing Gram could do well, it was tend gardens. From the road, her home was the picture of historical grace and elegance.

  Inside, it looked like the seventies and eighties were having an everything-must-go rummage sale.

  Or it usually did, anyway. He’d had a busy month at work, so his visits to town had been quick ones, and after visiting his parents, he’d made time for a glass of lemonade with Gram on her front porch. But sometime between his last time inside and today, a whole lot of stuff had been removed and somehow he doubted she’d randomly decided to do a mass decluttering.

  “We’re in here,” his mother called when he gave the front door the extra little shove it needed in order to latch properly behind him.

  As if they were ever anywhere but in the kitchen. His footsteps were loud in the foyer as he walked past the doors to the living room and the sitting room—and damn if anybody had ever been able to tell him the difference between the two, other than one having a television and the other having the most uncomfortable wingback chairs he’d ever sat in—to the kitchen.

  His parents were seated at the butcher-block table several generations of Weavers had taken their meals around. They were dressed in their usual jeans and T-shirts, though his mom had a lightweight cardigan over hers. They both had short dark hair liberally sprinkled with gray and gave him matching tired smiles.

  Gram hopped down from the barstool she’d been sitting on in front of the counter, since the kitchen didn’t have a center island. Her gray hair was long and loose around her face, and her white tank top, peach capris and white tennis shoes made him smile as she opened her arms for a hug. Gram refused to age gracefully by seemingly refusing to age at all, thank goodness.

  “You made it!” She looked at the clock on the wall and then pinched his arm just hard enough to make him wince. “Barely.”

  “Hey, barely counts. And of course I made it.” He pulled out a seat at the foot of the table and sat. Gram followed suit, sitting across the table from his parents. “So I’m here. Somebody tell me what’s going on.”

  “I have good news!” Gram clapped her hands together one time while his father groaned. “Do you know that show, Relic Rehab?”

  “Nope.”

  Her shoulders drooped. “You really should watch more TV, you know. Anyway, they remodel historical homes with businesses in them and they’re coming here to remodel the Bayview Inn!”

  “Okay.” Finn looked from Gram’s excited expression to his parents—his mother rolling her eyes and his father shaking his head—and back to Gram. “What’s the Bayview Inn?”

  “This is.” Gram waved her hand in a gesture that encompassed the kitchen before leaning closer. “I’ve decided I can only afford to keep this place up if I let rich flatlanders—I mean tourists—pay to sleep here, but it needs some updating to be an inn, so I applied to the show and told them it already was. And I got picked!”

  “This house has never been an inn and everybody in Blackberry Bay knows it. Everybody in this town knows everything.”

  “I know stuff, too, kiddo. I’ve lived here my whole life and I know where all the bodies are buried, so you can bet your sweet bippy everybody’s
going to stick to the script.”

  Finn groaned and scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Please tell me you’re not blackmailing the neighbors.”

  “The neighbors? Honey, I’m blackmailing the entire town.” She nodded. “The ladies at town hall were going to be a problem, but Jill’s mother told Carolina before she passed that Jill got her job because she worked late with one town selectman in particular, if you know what I mean, and his wife’s meaner than a badger.”

  “Gram.”

  “You sound exactly like your father when you say that.” She chuckled. “Except he says ‘Mom,’ of course. But he makes that same face.”

  “Mom,” his dad said, his voice a groan.

  “See?” Gram pointed her finger between the two of them. “Just like that.”

  “I love you Gram, but this is...” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “Tell her, Dad.”

  “Trust me, I already have. Several times.”

  “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life trying to scrape up the money to pay taxes on this beast,” Gram said, “but I don’t want to sell it, either. I don’t really have any marketable skills to speak of, but I can do hospitality.”

  Finn recoiled so hard the old wooden chair creaked under his shifting weight. “You? Hospitable? You chased the plumber out of the house with a broom.”

  “I wasn’t chasing him with the broom. I was trying to hand it to him so he could sweep up the crap he tracked in on his damn boots.”

  “Mom asked why you had Christmas decorations up the first week of November and you threw her out of the house.”

  “I like Christmas. And who cares about November? Why do we have to reserve an entire month because we eat turkey on a Thursday?”

  “So I guess Thanksgiving dinner isn’t a tradition you’ll be honoring at the Bayview Inn?”

  “Damn. Do people stay at inns for Thanksgiving? They can go eat with whoever they’re in town to visit, I guess.”