The words seemed final somehow. As if Josh had accepted something was about to happen and there was no going back.
He removed her hands and crossed his arms across his chest, tilting his head to stare at the top of hers because she was frightened to meet his hazel eyes. Frightened of the desperation she might see there.
âI made you the guardian of the twins last year.â
âWithout asking me?â
âYeah. I was afraid youâd say no.â Josh shrugged and lifted the corner of his mouth in a little smile. âYou asked what I was willing to do. Theyâre my kids, Tracey. Iâll do anything for them, including prison time.â
âJust tell me what to do.â
âNothing. You canât be involved in this. It has to be me.â She believed him. She had to. But she couldnât promise to stay out of his way. She meant what sheâd said about doing anything for Jackson and Sage. And if that meant she was the one who went to jail ⦠so be it.
Prologue
âIt was great to meet you. Night.â The last of the birthday guests waved from their cars.
Tracey Cassidy stood at the front door waving goodbye to another couple she barely knew. Two sets of little arms stretched around her thighs, squeezing with an appropriate four-and-a-half-year-old grunt.
âWhat are you two doing up? I tucked you in three hours ago.â
âHappy birthday,â they said in unison.
Jackson and Sage giggled until the sound of a dish breaking in the kitchen jerked them from their merriment. Their faces, so similar but different, held the same surprise and knowledge that their daddy was in super big trouble.
âDaddyâs going to get it now.â Sage nodded until her auburn curls bounced.
âHurry.â Tracey patted them on the backsides and pointed them in the right direction. âBack upstairs before the Major has to scoop you up there himself. You know youâll have extra chores if he catches you down here.â
The twins took each stair with a giant tiptoeing motion. It would have been hilarious to watch them, but their dad was getting a bit louder and might come looking for her to help.
âScoot, and thereâs sprinkles on Fridayâs ice-cream cone.â
Bribery worked. They ran as fast as their short legs could carry them up the carpeted staircase. Tracey was sure their dad heard the bedroom door close. Then again, he was making enough noise to wake the barn cats.
âTracey!â he finally yelled, seeking help. âWhereâs the dustpan?â
Hurrying to the back of the house, she found Major Josh Parker holding several pieces of broken glass in one hand and the broom in the other. A juggler holding his act. Yep, thatâs what he looked like. He was still completely out of his element in the kitchen. Or the laundry. Good thing he had a maid.
âIt should have been in the closet with the broom. Here, let me take these.â She reached for the pieces of crystal covered in the remnants of spinach artichoke dip.
âIâm good.â He raised the mess out of her reach. âSorry about the bowl. I thought I was actually helping for once. Damn thing slipped right out of my hand.â
âHere, just put it in this.â She pulled the covered trash can over to the mess and popped the lid open.
âHell, Tracey, you donât have your shoes on. This thing splintered into a thousand pieces.â
Two forbidden words in one conversation? Sheâd never seen Josh even the little tiniest bit tipsy. But the group had toasted a lot tonight. First her birthday, then an engagement, then to another couple whoâd looked at each other like lovebirds. Then to her birthday again.
âAre you a little drunk?â She ignored his warning and crossed the kitchen to look for the dustpan, which was hanging on the wall of the pantry exactly where it should have been. She turned to tell Josh and walked straight into his chest.