A Family Come True

A Family Come True
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It started with a kiss… Ian North is the one person Darcy Maguire can always count on. So when her daughter's biological father shows up unannounced, she knows Ian will do whatever it takes to help. A kiss, however, is the last thing she expects.Suddenly their little white lie is out of control. They're spending Father's Day with Ian's family and lying about being a couple. Only pretending isn't enough for Darcy anymore. Ian is the best father her daughter could have, and she's ready to make it official. But how can she know for certain where the lie ends and reality begins?

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It started with a kiss...

Ian North is the one person Darcy Maguire can always count on. So when her daughter’s biological father shows up unannounced, she knows Ian will do whatever it takes to help. A kiss, however, is the last thing she expects.

Suddenly their little white lie is out of control. They’re spending Father’s Day with Ian’s family and lying about being a couple. Only pretending isn’t enough for Darcy anymore. Ian is the best father her daughter could have, and she’s ready to make it official. But how can she know for certain where the lie ends and reality begins?

“Darce, it’s been a crazy couple of days. We can’t—”

“You’re right.” She nuzzled his chest. “But what if I told you that I’ve been thinking about this for a lot longer than the past couple of days?”

“You have?”

“Mmm-hmm.” She stood on tiptoe, kissed the corner of his mouth. “And I think you have, too.”

“God, Darce,” he said, and there might have been more but his words were lost as she kissed him, really kissed him, all heat and need and melting into him. She gripped his shoulders and curled against him, kissing him again and again with absolutely no one watching.

“Darce,” he said against her neck. “God, Darce, I’ve wanted you so long, but I didn’t— I can’t—”

“Oh, yes you can.”

His hands landed low, pulling her tight while his hips pushed against hers, and the rush of need had her digging her fingers into his shoulders to keep herself upright.

“We should think this over,” he said even as he molded her to him. “Get our heads clear.”

“I’ve done enough thinking. I want to feel.”

Dear Reader,

Books are often compared to children. I have found this to be truest when considering how parents must learn that what works with one child won’t necessarily work with his or her sibling. Similarly, the process that enabled an author to write one book won’t always come in handy when it’s time to develop the next one.

I explored many different ways to tell this story. Some things have stayed constant all along, such as the main characters (three adults, one baby and a dog, though their names sometimes changed hourly) and the primary issue (the sudden reappearance of a biological daddy makes a pair of friends pretend to be lovers). But the how of telling the story eluded me until my amazing editor Piya said, “Hmm, what if you tried...”

With that, the true direction of this story was revealed. Darcy, Ian and the rest of the characters were free to come to life, take control of the book and make it fully their own. It seems that in writing, as in parenting, sometimes the best thing to do is to put the pieces in place, step back and prepare to be amazed.

I’d love to hear from you, either through my website (krisfletcher.com) or the group blog run by the Superromance authors (superauthors.com). I can’t promise to make the characters behave when you visit, but I can promise a very warm welcome.

Yours,

Kris

A Family Come True

Kris Fletcher

www.millsandboon.co.uk

KRIS FLETCHER has never faked a relationship, but she does take great delight in pulling the wool over her loved ones’ collective eyes. Ask her about the ancient ultrasound incident. People have almost forgiven her for that one.

Kris grew up in southern Ontario, went to school in Nova Scotia, married a man from Maine and now lives in central New York. She shares her very messy home with her husband, some of their kids and a growing population of dust bunnies.

This one is for Larry, who may or may not have been the inspiration for the socks-as-mittens portion of this book, but who definitely inspired the I-love-yous.

Acknowledgments

Renee Kloecker and Jen Talty, who provided peaceful cottage retreats when I needed them most.

My fellow playground mommies, for not being freaked out when I started taking notes on their children’s behavior to refresh my baby-deprived memory. Special thanks to my neighbor Carrie, who patiently answered my questions about life with a one-year-old and indulged my need to remember how it felt to hold a little one again.

The usual people who make it possible for me to write a book—Larry, the kids, the Purples, Agent Extraordinaire Jessica Faust, and Piya Campana, the World’s Most Patient and Insightful Editor.

CHAPTER ONE

THE MAN HOVERING at the entry to Ian North’s garage was very tall, very blond, and very late.

“Hey, Ian. Long time no see.”

“Xander?” Ian tugged his work gloves from his hands and set them on the anvil where, moments earlier, he had been happily pounding the hell out of a piece of hot iron while singing along to some vintage Queen. With a glance to make sure everything in his home forge could be safely ignored for a few minutes, he ventured toward his old college roommate. “What are you doing back here?”



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