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“Good.” With his arms around my waist, he pulled me closer, whispering in my ear, “Wear something nice, but make sure it’s something I can tear off easily.”

“I’ll do my best,” I whispered back before indulging in a few kisses that made my toes curl. I didn’t want him to go. Was it too much to ask that he stay? And he would have. If I had asked. He would drop everything and spend the night here.

It would have been so easy to indulge in the fantasy of a big, happy family.

Tomorrow night, I would ask him where he saw us going. I needed to know before I let myself get pulled in too deeply. With one more kiss, I sent him on his way, stepping out on the front step and watching him walk down the path, whistling softly—a happy man.

“Wait a second! I forgot to give you something.” I jogged down behind him, and he came to a stop, turning around with an inquisitive grin. “This,” I whispered, pressing one more kiss against his waiting mouth.

He parted his lips and slid his tongue through, stroking it against mine, melting me before it would either end things or hump like mad in front of anybody who might be watching. “Let’s continue this discussion tomorrow night,” he growled and squeezed my ass before backing away, wearing a wicked grin.

I laughed softly, gave him a little wave, and went back to the house. Almost as an afterthought, I checked the mailbox since it was Audra’s day off, and Mom tended to forget. Sure enough, there were a handful of envelopes inside, which I took out and brought in with me.

Mom’s bedroom door was still closed, giving me a reprieve from the questions I figured she’d bombard me with. Maybe she had decided to take a nap, too, after all. I took the mail with me to the kitchen, putting on the kettle for a cup of tea before flipping through the pile.

One envelope in particular caught my attention. The only thing it bore was my name written in careful block print on the front of the envelope. “What the hell?” I turned it around, searching for anything resembling a postmark or a stamp. There was nothing.

Don’t open it.

Whatever was inside could probably be ignored, but then how could I be sure of that? I decided to be careful, using a sharp knife to slit the envelope while standing over the sink. I held my breath before tipping the contents out without touching them.

A few photos fell out.

Photos of us—Jackson, Liam, and me. Waiting at the ticket counter to go on the Ferris wheel. Walking through the aquarium, both of us holding Liam’s hands as he walked between us. Sitting together over lunch, Liam’s mouth ringed in chocolate after he tried to drink his milkshake straight from the cup instead of using a straw.

I flipped the photos over, looking for a clue as to who the hell sent them and why. This was only hours ago. Whoever took them must have quickly printed them and brought them here.

On the back of the third photo—the one from the restaurant—a single question had been written in the same careful script.

Wouldn’t it be a shame if this went away?

Ice filled my veins as I stared at that question while my son slept peacefully, unaware someone had been watching him.

Who, though? And what could they mean?

I turned off the kettle, but rather than make tea, I sat at the table and stared out the window over the sink, lost in thought. Lost in worry.

Should I go to the authorities with this? There was no actual threat in the message, so the police wouldn’t be able to do anything. Short of going to every photo developer in the area and asking who came in today, there wasn’t much I could do right now.

One thing I wouldn’t do—fall apart over a vague, barely-there threat. I had handled my shit alone for years. Did this asshole, whoever they were, think they could break me down that easily? I’d talk about it with Jackson tomorrow instead of flipping out and deciding the sky was falling. We’d make a plan for how to move forward and whether this was worth pursuing.

In the meantime, I would hold my baby a little tighter tonight.

And hope his grandmother hadn’t decided to take her revenge.

17

JACKSON

Next Day

There was nothing as satisfying as watching a production come to life. It was one thing to witness countless rehearsals, to work with designers and technicians to hone each aspect and polish it until it shone. That, in itself, was satisfying.

But seeing it take off on its own, handing it over to the crew and cast, witnessing them taking it beyond anything we had dreamed of while sitting beside the woman responsible for so much of it, my soul was full in a way it had never been by the time the final notes rang out, and the lights went down. The audience had been enraptured from the first moments and burst into thunderous applause, but I cheered as loudly as any of them. I couldn’t remember the last time I was this sure of our success. This fulfilled.

We could do this forever, Winter and me. We could be a team.

“What’s wrong?” I asked her as the cast took their bows. She was distracted and had been through the performance, something a stranger might not have picked up on, but I certainly did. She might have stared up at the stage, but there was no reaction or perception. She was staring without seeing.