Page 73 of The Locksmith's Promise

“I know you won’t,” she mumbled against my chest, her hands slipping under my coat and my flannel.

“Shit, Maggie,” I hissed. “Your hands are fucking ice cubes.”

She laughed, digging them harder into my sides. “You want to take this inside?”

I smiled down at her as she released me and opened her front door, calling, “Cor? Dad’s here.”

Dad’s here.

That word rocked me every time I heard it. There would never come a time I’d accept it as commonplace.

It was a miracle.

A gift.

A sweet dream from the past, one I’d given up in my darkest days.

Along with the dreams, returning to Moose Lake after all this time forced me to confront the nightmares.

While I hadn’t been back to my childhood home since that first time, it preyed on my mind every time I passed the long driveway curving into the brush.

Painful memories, things I hadn’t thought about in forever, cropped up like weeds and tripped me up all over town.

Fortunately, the town was ripe with markers from Maggie’s and my past as well. I turned to those, pounding down the fury that periodically rose without warning, and focussed on the future.

The collision of the past and present made moving on harder than I expected.

While I thought I’d made peace with what happened with Jenny, the shame of it clung to me like oil slick on water.

To keep it from touching Maggie and Corwin, I had to shake it off. But I didn’t know how.

As for the house, letting it rot was a fitting testament to the father that was most assuredly rotting in hell.

I followed Maggie inside and closed the door behind me before toeing off my shoes.

“I know you guys are dating,” Corwin accused.

My head shot up, my eyes meeting his dancing ones.

I barked out a laugh. “Oh, yeah? How do you figure?”

He stood at the entrance to the family room with his legs braced and his arms crossed over his skinny chest.

A chest that seemed as fragile as that of a baby bird.

I’d been that small once.

A fierce protectiveness flared to life within me.

He offered a smug smile. “Mikey told me him and his dad saw you two smooching.”

Maggie smacked a hand over her face, her cheeks growing rosy.

I grinned at her and shrugged. “Small towns.”

She rolled her eyes as she peeled off her socks. With a smile, I noted her blue tipped toes.

Like the dedicated mother she was, she turned her attention to our son. “How do you feel about that?”

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