“What did your parents say? Have they cleared everything up?” I ask. Please let them have explained everything so Miranda and I can get back to planning for our future. I know that’s selfish and I’m not proud of that side of me, but I’ve been patient for years. I don’t want anything to slow us down now we’re finally together.

Sophie gives an impatient huff. “They’ve been here an hour, Declan. Be patient.”

After all the years I’ve waited for Miranda to be mine, I think I’ve been patient enough.

The light knock on the door delays me telling my sister to butt out. Probably for the best. With a huff, Sophie walks over to the door and wrenches it open.

“Sophie,” Ma sweeps her in a hug as she crosses the threshold. “Miranda,” she exclaims as she releases Soph and moves to hug Miranda, who has risen from her chair. Her eyes drift closed as Ma hugs her tightly and my heart clenches as a single tear trails down Miranda’s cheek. Dad hugs first Sophie and then Miranda when Ma finally releases her.

“It’s been too long, sweetheart,” Dad says, pressing a kiss to her cheek. He reaches out a long arm—I get my height from him—to pull Sophie back in for a hug. In his Scottish brogue he says, “Having both of my girls together is the best way to start a new year.”

My Dad is not the most demonstrative of men, but he has always made sure we’ve known we are loved. That he easily shows his love for Miranda too makes me appreciate him even more.

There’s another knock at the door and since I’m closest, I open it to reveal Carter. I step back to let him in, and he says hello to everyone like he hasn’t already seen all of us today.

“What are you doing here?” Sophie asks.

“Sophie Eileen, don’t be rude,” Ma chides her. “Trevor, come in. I apologize for my daughter, she was raised better.”

He gives the smile that always charms the ladies. “No worries. I’m getting used to Sophie. For the next two months, we will be the best of friends. She’s getting her hostility out of her system early, before she falls in love with me.”

His wink makes Sophie give a low growl. I don’t know if it’s a wolf’s growl or an angry Sophie growl. They sound alike.

“Dance? You’re partners for the show?” Dad asks.

“Aye,” Sophie grumbles.

“Anyway,” Carter says, “to answer your question. I’m here for Miranda. For support. She’s my best friend. Where else would I be?”

“Aww…thanks Trev.” Miranda gives him a hug and kiss on the cheek.

What. The. Hell? She hugged and kissed every person in the room but me. I’m the one she’s in love with, but she hasn’t touched me or given any indication of her feelings for me. How have things changed so much between us this quickly? If it has, does it mean what she told me last night, the promises we made, the dreams we shared, mean nothing?

The knocking at the door deters anyone from saying anything more. Ever gracious, Sophie stomps over and opens the door. Miranda’s parents are on the threshold. We should have used the ballroom from last night.

Sophie’s smile is huge as she steps back to let them into the suite. I glance over at Miranda and her face doesn’t betray any emotion. I know she’s already seen them, but if someone didn’t know better, they’d think Sophie was their daughter based on the greeting. The years haven’t brought many changes to the Quinns. Paul is still lean, standing around six feet tall. There is more gray in his brown hair and it is thinning. When I step forward, he shakes my hand and murmurs, “Hello.” Miranda has his gray eyes.

Doreen is a beautiful woman at fifty-something years old. Her hair is still the same black as Miranda and her green eyes remind me of a house cat sizing up a juicy mouse she wants to pounce on. She has a dainty build, but there is no doubt she is physically strong from her work with horses. She is the type of woman who would be equally at home in riding breeches and boots, as she is in an exquisite gown. Miranda laments she doesn’t have her mother’s timeless beauty, but she doesn’t realize Doreen’s brittle manner detracts from any physical beauty she possesses. Anyway, I think Miranda is stunning whether she’s in a gown or an old t-shirt. Sixty years from now, when we are both old and gray, she’s always going to be the most beautiful woman in the world to me.

I turn away from Paul and face Doreen Quinn.

“Declan,” she says, tilting her face toward me and presenting her cheek like I’m going to kiss it.

“Hello Doreen.” I step back. Her green eyes flash with anger because I didn’t fawn over her like most men do. Too bad. Miranda is the Quinn woman I’m kissing, no one else. Carter introduces himself and shakes both of their hands, rejecting Doreen’s proffered cheek as well.

“Miranda,” Paul says in an American accent. I’m shocked because he’s always sounded as Irish as my mother. I guess I know where Miranda gets her changeable accent from. “I need to get back to the racetrack. The horses need me.”

I think it’s more he needs the horses. He strikes me as the type of man more comfortable with animals than with people.

“I’m sorry we don’t have more time to spend together, but I hope you do well.”

With that, he steps toward Miranda, and she meets him halfway, opening her arms to hug him. She quickly drops them when he holds his hand out to shake. It is damn awkward. Miranda recovers quickly and shakes his hand. On what planet does a man shake his daughter’s hand? My dad isn’t a big hugger, but even if he shook Sophie’s hand, he would use his grip to pull her in for a hug as well.

“I understand,” Miranda says. “Thank you for coming down, Father. I appreciate it. I hope the horses are well.” She turns to Doreen. “Mother, I hope you have a safe trip home.”

“Oh no,” Doreen says, her Irish lilt sounding harsh. “I’m not leaving. You need me here, this is where I will be. You’re my daughter.”

Am I projecting the flash of alarm flitting across Miranda’s face? Everyone says goodbye to Paul as he leaves. I don’t know why he bothered to come down. Maybe Doreen didn’t want to drive.