“We don’t even know if he’s a shifter yet,” Abby pointed out.
“He is,” Marc and I said in unison, and she laughed. Probably because he and I rarely agreed on anything.
“Abby, give me a hug!” Faythe stood, and my eyes widened at the sight of her small but distinctively rounded stomach as she pulled Abby closer.
She laughed at my expression. “Did I forget to tell you?”
I nodded, and I could tell from Abby’s face that she hadn’t known either.
“Dr. Carver says it’s another boy. Due in April. We want to call him Ethan.” She watched me from across the room, and everyone was silent, waiting for my response.
“No better name in the world,” I said at last, and Faythe visibly relaxed as she pulled me into a hug.
“It’s good to see you, Jace. I hope you know you’re always welcome.”
When I hugged her back, I found that leadership, marriage, and motherhood had changed her scent as much as they’d changed the rest of her life. She smelled like Marc now, even more than she used to. She smelled like the droplets of little Greg’s apple juice on her blouse, and like whatever prenatal vitamin supplements she was taking, and like the earthy, healthy hormones her second pregnancy was producing.
And she felt strong. Steady. Resolute, as she always had, but now her determination was backed by four years of peaceful and successful leadership.
Faythe was gorgeous, as always. But she was no longer mine, and for the first time since she’d chosen Marc over me, I was okay with that, because I had truly let her go. Finally, it felt less like I had lost her than like the rest of the world had gained her.
“You look terrific. Healthy and happy,” I said.
She let me go, grateful tears standing in her eyes. “Thanks. As it turns out, a woman reallycando it all—if she’s willing to give up sleep almost entirely.”
I laughed, as I was supposed to, and we were making our way toward the center of the room when Kaci stepped into the office in snug jeans, a long sweater, and a cropped leather jacket.
“I’m leaving,” she announced, jangling a set of car keys in one hand, and again the subversive passage of time smacked me over the head. How thehellcould she be old enough to drive?
Ofcourseshe was driving. She had to be…seventeen?
“Hey, Kace.” I braced myself to be attacked with another homecoming hug, but her gaze hardly even skipped over me.
“Hey.” Then she turned back to Faythe. “Can I take your car? Marc’s still smells like feet.”
“Sure,” Faythe said, while Marc grumbled something he probably wouldn’t have said in front of the toddler.
“Kace.” I ducked into her field of vision, trying to catch her eye. “When you get back, you wanna—”
“Don’t wait up.” Kaci shrugged. “I’ll be late.”
“No, you’ll be back by midnight,” Marc called over his shoulder from the couch.
She heaved a dramatic sigh, and I was all but forgotten. “My friends don’t have curfews!”
“Your friends don’t have claws, either,” Marc pointed out, and Abby glanced back and forth between them, as if she wasn’t sure whether she was supposed to identify with the oldish teenager or the youngish adult.
“That is neither relevant nor fair!” Kaci snapped, but Faythe only smiled, as if maybe she agreed. Secretly.
“Midnight,” Marc insisted. “That’s an order.”
Kaci growled and clutched her keys, then slammed the office door and stomped out of the house. Marc chuckled when the car started, then tore out of the driveway as if the gravel were on fire.
Faythe gave me a sympathetic look. “Don’t take it personally. It was hard for her to lose both you and Ethan so close together.”
Lose me? Kaci hadn’t….
But hadn’t she? It had been three years since I’d visited. That was an eternity in teen-time, and her crush on me hadn’t exactly been a secret. She’d probably felt abandoned—an innocent casualty of my avoidance of Faythe and Marc.
