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  He raised an eyebrow. “What is it, kiddo?”

  “I’ve been thinking about what you asked last week. The adoption thing. Would it still be okay for me to say yes?”

  If there was one thing Sean had learned about kids over the last eight months, it was that they never picked an opportune time to raise difficult subjects. Ever. He swallowed and blinked back the sheen that overlaid the world. If Grace found him standing at the altar looking like this, they’d both break down in tears. What a wedding that would be.

  On the other hand, he wasn’t about to put off Josh’s question, either. He cleared his throat. “Is that what you want?”

  “I think so.” Josh hesitated, looking as if he might say more. Sean waited. “I can still remember my mom, right? And it’s okay to still love her?”

  Sean blinked faster and tried not to choke. Freaking hell, these kids and their innocence were going to be the death of him. After all they’d been through, all they’d seen and survived...

  He cleared his throat a second time. Pachelbel rose in volume, Carol’s not-so-subtle cue to them to take their places at the entrance to the massive outdoor tent that ate up most of the backyard. Gareth emerged from the tent and started toward the house. His gaze met Sean’s, questioning, and then his step hitched as Sean shook his head very slightly. He nodded, turned on his heel, and caught hold of Nicholas’s shoulder as his stepson tried to dodge around him. The two of them disappeared into the tent again. Sean turned back to Josh.

  “It’s more than okay to still love your mom, Josh. Your Aunt Grace and I want you to keep loving her. She’s a part of you and your sisters, and we don’t ever want you to forget that. Or her. You can talk about her as much as you want, and you can ask your aunt questions about her anytime. Okay?”

  “But my dad is part of us, too.” The eyes behind the glasses clouded over, and the boy’s jaw tightened. “Do I still have to love him after what he did?”

  Yup. They’d definitely be the death of him.

  “Not if you don’t want to,” Sean replied carefully. “But it’s okay if you do.”

  “I’d rather love you. As my dad, I mean. If that’s all right.”

  Someone ahemmed discreetly behind Sean, and he turned to find Gwyn poking her head into the room, one eyebrow raised. Her gaze darted between him and Josh. “Everything okay?” she whispered. “We’re ready when you are.”

  “I’m sorry,” Josh said. “I should have waited. We can talk later.”

  No way was Sean waiting to finish this. “Give us five?” he asked Gwyn.

  “Of course.” She withdrew again, and Sean turned back to Josh.

  “I would be honored,” he answered Josh’s last question. “And so would your Aunt Grace.”

  “It might take me a while to remember not to call her Aunt Grace anymore. Or you Sean.”

  “I imagine it will take us a while, too. Big changes are like that, and this is a pretty big change.”

  Josh nodded. “How will it work? Will we have to go to court the way we did to talk about Da—him?”

  “It will be a different court, with a different judge. Smaller. The court, I mean, not the judge.”

  Josh smiled.

  “Luc—he’s the man your Aunt Grace borrowed the cottage from—is a family lawyer, and he’ll do all the paperwork for us,” Sean continued. “The judge might want to talk to you, to make sure this is what you want, but it won’t be scary like it was when you had to talk about Barry.”

  “Barry.” A thoughtful expression crossed Josh’s face. “I think I’d like to call him that, too.”

  “I think that would be fine.”

  “And do I have to wait until after the adoption before I can call you Dad?”

  Aaaand there was the lump again.

  Sean coughed. “Not if you don’t want to.”

  “Well then, Dad,” Josh grinned at the word, “don’t you think it’s time you and Mom got married?”

  “I do,” said Sean, pulling him in for a fierce hug and dropping a kiss on top of the tousled head. “I definitely do.”

  ***

  Sean grasped Grace’s free hand as she, Lilliane, Sage, and Annabelle stopped beside him and Josh just outside the tent’s entrance. He lifted it and brushed his lips across her knuckles, sending a jolt of electricity through her. “You,” he said huskily, “look stunning.”

  Grace blushed. “You clean up pretty good yourself.”

  “Three nights,” he muttered, leaning in so only she could hear. “Three nights of just the two of us. Do you have any idea of how much I’m looking forward to that?”

  “Probably about as much as I am,” she said, her heart giving a happy flutter at the thought. She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Gwyn said there was a problem with Josh?”

  “It’s all sorted out. I’ll tell you about it later.” He tucked her fingers through the crook of his arm. “Gareth said he thought there was a problem with you when he picked you up?”

  Her heart fluttered again. Her belly followed suit. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

  She thought he might object, but he nodded agreement instead. “Probably best, given that we’ve already kept everyone waiting. You ready?”

  Grace considered the scope of the words. Ready to be married. Ready to move to a new home. Ready to have not one but two babies. Ready to be a family. It was an awful lot to be ready for, but as she looked at the cluster of bright, hopeful faces surrounding them, she felt exactly that. Because with Sean at her side, she was ready for it all. She smiled.

  “More than,” she said.

  And then she and Sean led their little procession—their family—down the aisle to where Gwyn and Gareth waited for them with Katie, Maggie, Nicholas, and Amy.

  Chapter 17

  Grace snuggled against Sean’s shoulder, wrapped in his arms and a contentment both fierce and peaceful as they swayed to the music drifting through the tent. Tables and chairs had been moved to the perimeter, the red carpet rolled up from the dance floor laid down by the event company, and a DJ installed on the stage that had been the podium for their vows.

  Their wedding vows.

  Because after the nine short months into which they’d already crammed a lifetime, they’d finally done it. They were married. Husband and wife. An official family. Which reminded her...

  She tipped her head back to look up at Sean. “Do I get the Josh story now?”

  Her husband—husband—smiled back. “He wants to go through with the adoption.” His arm tightened around her waist as she missed a step and stumbled.

  “Really? He’s sure?”

  Sean nodded. “And he wants to call his dad ‘Barry’.”

  “Does that mean...?”

  Sean nodded, his grin nearly splitting his face. “I’ve become Dad.”

  “And—and me?”

  “You’re Mom if you want to be.”

  Grace thought about it for a long few seconds, wondering what her sister would have said if she were here. Deciding that Juli would want the kids to move on. Vowing to keep her memory alive for them in every other way that she could. Still struggling with the idea. “It will take some getting used to.”

  Sean chuckled. “That’s what Josh said. But I think we can figure it out.”

  They danced on, limited by Sean’s recovering leg but both unfazed by it. Ten thousand fairy lights twinkled across the tent’s roof, each carefully positioned under the watchful eye of their planner, Carol, who had left no detail unsupervised. Laughter wove itself through the old Luther Vandross song, Always and Forever, underscoring the mellow, gentle voice that sang of love. Grace glanced toward the source of hilarity and saw Gareth’s father, Steffan, pulling a coin from behind Annabelle’s ear as she sat on his wife Alwen’s knee. Noticing her gaze, Alwen gave her a broad smile and blew a kiss her way. Grace waved back.

  “Gareth’s parents are amazing,” she said to Sean. “Coming all the way over from Wales for the wedding and taking in our brood like the
ir own. I hope he knows how lucky he is to have them.”

  “He knows. So do I. They’ve always been that way about family.” Sean hitched her closer, his hand drifting down from her back to rest on her hip. “Your turn. What were you so upset about when Gareth went to pick you up? And while you’re explaining things, maybe you can tell me what you were doing packing the kitchen in the first place. On our wedding day. Really?”

  “It was the last cupboard, and I just wanted it done. You do realize we move three days after we get back from Prince Edward County, right?” Grace waved off his objection and rolling eyes. “And I wasn’t upset, exactly...more like shocked.”

  “By...?”

  “Dr. Jeffries called.”

  “The obstetrician?” Sean pulled back, his brow furrowed. “Is everything okay?”

  “Everything is fine.” Grace bit her lip, bracing for the announcement she needed to make. Cringing from it. “It’s just...a little bit finer than we anticipated.”

  Sean’s frown deepened. “I’m not following.”

  She took a deep breath, and because she’d decided there was no best way to drop this particular bombshell, said, “Twins, Sean. We’re having twins.”

  Her new husband stopped dead in his tracks, paled, and gaped at her. “We’re what?”

  ***

  “You’re sure you’re okay to travel tomorrow? You’re not too tired? We can just stay at a hotel here in town, or even at the hou—”

  Grace reached up to place a finger across Sean’s lips, stopping him mid-word. She scowled. “Sean McKittrick, are you trying to renege on our honeymoon?”

  “Of course not—I just...” Sean’s gaze shifted to Gwyn in search of support. She shrugged, swaying gently in place with baby Julianne cradled against one shoulder.

  “Don’t look at me,” she said. “I was waterskiing the week before I gave birth to Nicholas and Maggie.”

  “Not helping, Gwyn,” Sean growled.

  “Not trying to, Sean.” Gwyn patted his cheek. “She’s pregnant, not an invalid. She’s fine, the babies are fine, everyone is fine. Now for heaven’s sake, go and take advantage of your three childless days and nights with your new wife, would you? You have no idea how rare that kind of peace is going to be in your future.”

  “Or how grumpy I’ll be if I don’t get those three days and nights,” Grace added, not altogether in jest. The more she thought about it, the more she realized how much good it would do her and Sean to have a few days entirely to themselves, with no responsibilities, no worries...and no interruptions.

  Sean chuckled. “Noted,” he said. “We’ll leave at the crack of dawn. Does that work?”

  Grace rolled her eyes at him. “Ten o’clock as planned is fine, thank you.” She turned to hug Gwyn around Julianne. “You’re sure you’re okay with handling our four for that long? You’re not getting a lot of sleep as it is, and—”

  “Alwyn and Steffan are here for another week. Between us and them, I think we have things covered.” Gwyn hugged her back, then shooed her toward the front door as Gareth opened it. “Trying to get you two out of here is like herding cats, I swear. You have everything packed that you need, your reservation for the hotel tonight is confirmed, I’ll take care of the dress, Gareth will return the tuxes tomorrow, and the kids are in good hands. No more excuses, all right? Get your tail ends out of here or I—”

  “Excuse me,” Gareth’s deep voice cut across hers. “Can I help you?”

  As one, Grace, Gwyn, and Sean craned their necks to see past him onto the night-shadowed porch. Grace blinked at what looked to be a pile of luggage, and then at the woman rising from the floorboards beside it. Unruly blonde curls framed a tired, wan face that seemed vaguely familiar, even though she would have sworn she’d never met the stranger. Beside her, Gwyn drew a quick, startled breath.

  “Abigail?”

  “Surprise,” said the woman, giving a choked laugh as she spread her hands in a well, here I am gesture that encompassed the luggage. “I know you hadn’t answered my letter yet, and I know I’m being presumptuous, but....”

  Gwyn shifted Julianne to one arm as her sister’s voice trailed off. She shook her head at Grace’s silent offer to take the baby, her gaze remaining glued to the woman. A range of emotions flickering across her face: surprise, curiosity, reservation.

  Any sign of welcome, however, remained noticeably lacking.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I didn’t want to crash the party. It was warm enough to sit out here on the porch, so I did.”

  Gwyn shook her head. “No. I meant what are you doing here. In Canada. And where are Olivia and Dominic?”

  The woman’s face crumpled like fragile tissue paper, and the sorrow behind her whispered response tore at Grace’s very core. “They’re gone, Gwyn.” She wrapped her arms around herself, and for the first time, Grace noticed how thin she was beneath the summer-weight slacks and simple tank top she wore. She bit her bottom lip and lifted a bony shoulder in a half shrug. “They’re gone, and I didn’t know where else to go.”

  And with that, the woman began a slow slide toward the porch floor, as if she had used up the last of her energy and could no longer support her own body. Sean and Gareth both leapt through the doorway and caught her in mid collapse, then supported her between them into the house and the living room to the left of the entry hall. Grace touched Gwyn’s arm.

  “Gwyn? Are you all right?”

  Gwyn roused herself to a wan smile and her gaze briefly met Grace’s before flicking back to the living room. “I have no idea,” she said.

  Grace remembered what Gwyn had told her about Abigail’s refusal to help when her ex had abandoned her, but try as she might to look at the woman through that lens, she couldn’t get past her brokenness. She stared into the living room. The men had seated Abigail in an armchair, and Gareth crouched at her side while Sean limped back toward the hallway. “She looks like she’s in rough shape.”

  “I’ve never seen her like this,” Gwyn admitted, her voice quiet. She raked her free hand through her hair. “Bloody hell, to quote my husband.” Then she drew herself up as Sean reached them. “Well. None of this is your problem, and you have a honeymoon to attend, so off you go—and have a wonderful time. You’ve earned it.”

  Sean raised an eyebrow at Grace. She raised an eyebrow back. He nodded. She gave him a little smile. Not even a year together, and they’d already mastered the art of wordless communication.

  “I’ll make tea,” she said, “and let Alwyn and Steffan know what’s happening.”

  “I’ll bring in Abigail’s luggage,” Sean replied.

  “But—” Gwyn began.

  Sean cut her off with a hug. “Family first,” he says. “Right, Grace?”

  For a fleeting moment, Grace remembered how she and Julianne had grown up, bounced from one relative’s home to another, never wanted, forever an obligation. For so long, it had been just the two of them, clinging to one another for all they were worth. And then there had been Juli’s children, and then the children but no Juli, and now...

  Now she pictured the tumble of kids gathered in the kitchen for a bedtime snack under the close supervision of Alwyn and Steffan, who had crossed an ocean for them. She glanced into the living room, where Gareth remained on one knee beside a broken woman who needed her sister. Finally, she reached out to give her husband’s hand a swift, grateful squeeze.

  Family first, Sean had said.

  “Always,” she answered.

  The End

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Abigail Always, the next book in the Ever After Romance Collection!

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  ABIGAIL ALWAYS

  An Ever After Romance
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  Chapter One

  “You must have something I can do.” Abigail Jamieson tried to keep the desperation out of her voice, but the way the woman across from her peered over her wire-rimmed glasses, she didn't think she'd succeeded. Through sheer force of will, she kept her hands linked loosely in her business-suited lap and didn't bolt for the door.

  On the other side of the desk, Estelle Gagnon set aside the single sheet of paper that served as Abigail's scant resume. She leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers, touching the index tips to her lips.

  “Why childcare?” she asked finally, her English tinged by a slight French accent. “Why not something in an office?”

  Abigail reached deep inside, past nerves left raw by answering this same question too many times over the last two weeks, and dug up the humility she needed to answer again. Nannies to Go was the last nanny agency on the list in the entire city of Ottawa, and she would not, could not, go home to her sister Gwyn's with no prospects yet again. Not after the conversation she'd overhead this morning.

  “I know she needs our support, Gwyn,” Gareth's voice floated through the door of his and Gwyn's bedroom as Abigail passed by in the hallway. “But it's been three and a half months. And yes, she's helping out with the house, but you need your space back. We need our space back. At least let me put her up in an apartment while she figures out what she wants to do.”

  “Are you going to be the one to tell her she's overstayed her welcome?” Gwyn retorted. “She's my sister, Gareth, and her husband and daughter died. There is no way I'm turfing her out on her ear right now. She needs more time.”

  “She's already been here almost three months. How much more time does she need? Another month? Three—”

  “Mrs. Jamieson?”

  The recruiter's voice jolted Abigail back to the present, and she pushed away the memory of her sister's disagreement with her husband. Over her. She crossed her ankles and tucked her feet under her chair, sitting up straighter. “I've been out of the workforce for a number of years,” she said, with rehearsed calm. “And I don't have any office skills to speak of, beyond being able to use a computer.”