The Complete Series Boxed Set (35 page)

“Yeah.
Crazy uncle.
I’d just ignore it, but…” She held up the telephone screen and let Mike read the email:

Dear Laura,

You haven’t had any contact with me in so long, my dear, and so I thought I would reach out. I recently came across news footage about your new life and am so pleased to learn about your happy circumstances. And I have a great-niece, from what I’ve read! I should like very much to meet with you, your daughter, and your husbands. Your old uncle Frank doesn’t have quite the exciting, luxurious life you now lead, but perhaps you can find time for me
t
o see my only living niece and grand-niece. Family is so important, and as I age I realize that blood is all that matters.

Your loving uncle,

Frank

“Ah, shit,” Dylan said from behind her. “Is he money grubbing?”

Because it had been so long since she’d seen him—since her mother’s death, when he’d convinced her to hand over part of her mom’s life insurance for his pain and suffering—she hadn’t really talked much about Frank. A few conversations boiled down to the simple point that Frank used people. Mostly for money. And her mother had taught her to keep him at as much of a distance as possible.

And now he was back, with more knowledge about her life than she was comfortable with hi
m
having. A cold chill began at the base of her spine and spread up as she reread his words. The thought of hi
m
being part of her life, of Jillian’s life, left her with an unsettled, mildly frantic feeling that he knew would reverberate through her, pinging and ricocheting endlessly until this was resolved.

Dylan and Mike could feel it, too. They crowded around her, safe and solid, a big, impenetr
a
ble wall of protection.

The threat, though, was so much more than physical.

“Ignore it,” Dylan and Mike said at the same time.

“Delete it,” Dylan whispered. “You don’t have any obligation to him.”

“I know,” she whispered back. Mike set his chin on the top of her head, arm wrapping around her, the warmth a comfort. She was suddenly cold.

And just as instantly, she needed to hold Jillian. Touch her. Embrace her. Be with her.

Protect
her.

Frank’s words looped through her head. “Happy circumstances” and “luxurious life” and “blood is all that matters” all set off alarm bells in her head.

Why now? Why was he appearing
now
? She’d been with Mike and Dylan for two years. They’d been all over the news in the early stage of their relationship, though more the guys than her. Nowadays she was featured in small news articles on blog sites, mostly, talking about alternative lifestyles. No one ever photographed Jillian—all three of them were fierce about her privacy in that respect—so Frank couldn’t know that much about her.

But she bet he knew 2.2 billion reasons why he wanted to reconnect with his niece and grand-niece, dammit.

Laura stood abruptly, Mike and Dylan on their feet in seconds, the three a unit. “Darla,” Laura said, her own words breathless, the panic coming out in her voice. “I’m so sorry, but I have to go. There’s an emergency.”

“Is the baby okay?” Joe asked. Trevor and Darla gave Laura
a
look of such concern that it made her feel instantly overwrought. What was she so anxious about? It didn’t make sense, but the feeling fluttered inside her. She couldn’t deny it. All she could do was get home and hold her daughter. Then she’d be able to think and act clearly.

Until then? Everything she did was pointless.

“Jillian is fine,” Laura
said
, more to calm herself than anyone else. That seemed to allay the younger group’s fears. “It’s just, something else has come up, and I need to cut this short.”

She reached for Darla, who stood, and the two shared a deep, long hug. “
L
et’s do this again, but only the two of us.”

“
Y
es!” said the men in unison.

Laura and Josie shot them dark looks. All four of them shrugged. It was like a human wave of flesh relief. If Laura weren’t on high alert, so triggered by her uncle’s email as to be in a different plane of mental existence, she would have laughed.

Jillian
.

Al
l
she could think about was wrapping her arms around that sweet little toddler and taking a long, deep breath.

Mike and Dylan saw the unease in her, and within seconds they were out the door, headed for the parking garage, where Mike’s Jeep would take her to sanctuary.

“
You’re shaking,” Dylan said in a clenched voice, his jaw muscles tight, eyes like a hawk’s. “Did your uncle do something else? Threaten you?” They climbed in the car, and Mike peeled out of the parking structure, the squeal of tire on painted concrete making her feel like they were moving faster than they really were.
 

“No! Oh, no. Nothing like that. I just need her.” Laura’s throat began to close with tears, eyes joining in waterworks. “It seems so silly, I know…”

“Not silly,” Dylan said evenly. He was in the back seat with her, arms enveloping her as Mike drove. “You feel what you feel. And no one can hurt you.”

“Or Jillian.” Mike’s words came out like a growl.

“Or any of us,” Dylan assured her. She felt so safe with them both. Secure.

Fine.

A deep breath helped. Dylan’s warm hands on her hip made his words sink in. This was fine. An email out of the blue could be ignored. Frank wasn’t any sort of threat. In fact, she’d just let a stupid email interrupt a very important lunch date.

“What am I thinking?” she blurted out. Mike was weaving through traffic to snake through Arlington and get to Route 2 and home. “This is silly. We don’t need to rush. Maybe we should go back so I can talk to Darla some more.”

Mike caught her eye in the rearview mirror. “Don’t do that.”

She startled. “Do what?” Dylan was so warm, so hard and secure, like being hugged by a muscled teddy bear.
The afternoon’s conversation, the sparring between Madge and Darla, the talks about threesomes as if they were normal and just another way to love, all pinged through her mind.
 

Overwhelm.

She was living in overwhelm. And that
wa
s why Frank’s email was sending her home.

“
Don’t t
ry to convince yourself that your first instinct is wrong,” Mike elaborated, driving with his eyes on her through the tiny mirror. “You’re doing that female thing. Don’t invalidate yourself. Believe in whatever’s driving you to get home to Jillian. It’s important.
I
t’s worthy.
Y
ou’re valid for believing whatever’s in y
o
ur gut.”

That made her tear up even more.

Traffic was backed up—no surprise given that it was already nearly five o’clock. By the time they got home it was well past six, and Cyndi was fine with their latenes
s
, always reasonable and understanding. Closing her arms around little Jillian’s chubby body, legs like chunks of soft dough, cheeks the color of freshly picked cider apples in late October,
made
Laura fe
el
like her heart was safely behind her ribs again.

It really was okay.

“I gave her a bath when you texted, and she already ate dinner. Given the time”—Laura knew it was 6:45 p.m.—“she’s probably ready for bed soon enough,” Cyndi declared. Short and thick, with steel-gr
a
y hair, the nanny’s piercing blue eyes were troubled, if no-nonsense. “And it looks like you could use a good night’s sleep as well, Laura.”

All Laura could do was bury her face in Jillian’s neck.

“Mama seepy,” the little girl said. “Zzzzzz.” It was a game Mike and Dylan played with her, and Laura laughed that her daughter had made the connection between Cyndi’s words and the dads’ game. Every day, little changes like this made her marvel. She hadn’t given birth to a baby.

She’d brought a
little
whole human being into the world.

Now
that’s
a superpower.

“
Mama’s sleepy, yes,” Laura repeated as Jillian rested her brown curls on Laura’s shoulder,
snuggling in like she was molded to live there. Which she was.
 

“Is everything okay?” Cyndi asked quietly. “You seem anxious. Did something happen?”

“No,” Laura rushed to say, not wanting to deal with anyone else’s emotional state right now.
A
dawning realization made her elaborate.

More than she wanted to.

“Did anyone call the house while we were gone?”

Cyndi’s face lit up. “Oh, yes!”

Oh, no.

“Your
U
ncle Frank called. I didn’t know you had an uncle!” Cyndi hurried over to the counter that separated the large, open-concept kitchen from the living room and picked up a slip of paper. “Here. He asked that you call him as soon as possible. Said he might swing into town for a few days and would love to see his favorite niece.”

His
only
niece.

Laura’s stomach dropped through the earth’s crust and into the magma layer. “Thanks,” she gasped.

Cyndi frowned, then her eyes changed to a wary look. “Oh dear. He was so charming on the phone, and I just assumed…” She touched Laura’s hand. “He’s not someone you want in your life, is he? I hope I didn’t make a mistake.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Laura answered,
but she reached for Cyndi’s hand and clasped it like it was a lifeline. Kind, wrinkled eyes, intelligent and perceptive, yet so compassionate, met hers.
 

Jillian’s weight on her shoulder shifted just enough for Laura to realize that the baby had fallen
a
sleep, her breathing suddenly even, her little lips nuzzled against Laura’s ear.

“She wanted her mama,” Cyndi said with a squeeze of the hand.

Laura swallowed hard as Mike and Dylan came into the room, brows furrowed, worried and ready to talk.

“Her mama,” Laura said through a voice full of worry over the unknown, “wanted her.”

“
Something more happen?” Mike asked, crossing the room, his sheer size a comfort to Laura. Cyndi looked up to meet his eyes, and it was like she was watching Superman fly overhead.
 

“Uncle Frank called,” Laura whispered.

“
Here?
” Dylan asked, incredulous. “The house phone? It’s unlisted.”
 

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Cyndi said in an apologetic tone. “I just assumed he was a family member and it was okay to talk to him. To tell him.”

Laura’s extremities went cold. “Tell him
what
?”

Cyndi dropped her hand and gave Mike and Dylan beseeching looks. “He asked about Jillian. How she was doing, what she was like, and how Laura was. Asked about you two as well. Whether you treated ‘his girls’ right.”

Laura’s eyes bugged out of her head. Mike and Dylan exchanged angry looks.

“I’m so sorry!” Cyndi gushed. “I’ll never make that mistake again.”

Laura shook her head, as if trying to get rid of a bad thought. Which she was. The movement
made
Jillian rub her face against Laura’s neck. The toddler’s body heat was the only reason Laura wasn’t chilled to the bone with dread.
 

“Cyndi,” Mike said, “you haven’t done a thing wrong. We’re not certain why Laura’s uncle has suddenly come out of the woodwork, but Laura’s worried, and that’s good enough for us. From now on, screen his calls.”

“And if he shows up here,” Dylan added, lips tight, anger morphing his features, “don’t let him in. Call us right away, and worst case, call the police.”

“The police!” Laura cried out. Jillian smacked her lips in her sleep, and Laura lowered her voice. “Guys, I think I’m making you overreact. Frank’s not harmful. He’s never hurt me or threatened me before.
I
t’s not like that
at all
.”

“You’re freaked, though. I can smell it on you.” Mike’s words made Cyndi do a double take, but he was dead serious.

“I’m freaked out because it’s just weird. And having him call here…”

“Why would he?” Dylan asked, but it was quickly clear his question was rhetorical, for he answered it himself, Mike and Laura all saying the word at the same time.

“Money.”

C
yndi made a clucking sound. “People come out of the woodwork when it comes to big money,” she said. “Not that I would know.” Her rueful grin made Laura feel sheepish.

“We didn’t
live with money
either, until
a few
years ago,” Dylan said. “You know I was a firefighter and Mike was a ski instructor.”

“We weren’t exactly rich,”
Mike added.
 

“But you are now,” Laura pointed out.

“
We
are,” Dylan said.
Everyone went quiet. Cyndi looked a bit embarrassed. Truth be told, the guys and Laura were, too. It was one thing to have money—their daily life made it clear that they did, because they had the freedom to spend their time as they pleased, a luxury more valuable than coin—but it was quite another to talk openly about it.
 

Which they didn’t. Not generally.

Then again, the news channels had covered Mike and Dylan’s inheritance after Jill died, so it was public knowledge.

Knowledge her Uncle Frank now had.

What on earth had happened to the pioneering lunch Laura had planned with Darla? The exchange of thoughts and feelings and ideas no one else experienced? Wasn’t she supposed to be dealing with the emotional aftermath of that right now—and not of Frank?

Life changed on a dime, didn’t it?

“
I’m going to put her to sleep,” Laura said in dulcet tones, as Mike huddled with Cyndi, sounds of reassurance telling Laura he was making sure the amazing nanny understood all was well. Dylan followed her into the bedroom, where she settled Jillian on the enormous California king bed that Mike, Dylan, and Laura shared.
 

He cocked an eyebrow.

“I know we’re not co-sleeping with her anymore, but for tonight, I just want her there. I don’t know why I’m so worried suddenly. It doesn’t make sense, I know, but I don’t care. I want to have her near me.”