Her Last Goodbye (Morgan Dane #2)(30)

She above all people should know that love was worth the risk. No matter how great the pain of losing her husband, she wouldn’t have given up one second of her time with him to avoid the grief, as soul crushing as it had been.

Meeting his gaze head-on, she kissed him again. The firm press of her lips against his grounded her. He grounded her. “I’m positive. Let’s go inside.”

Morgan barely made it through the front door before she was swamped with three small bodies and a barking dog. The girls were in their pajamas. Their damp hair smelled of detangling spray.

She heard Lance close the door behind them as she crouched to envelop the three little girls in a giant hug. “I missed you.”

Having her children in her arms made her think of Chelsea Clark. Would she ever get to hold her babies again?

Morgan released the kids and gave Snoozer, her French bulldog, a scratch behind his ears before standing.

The second she straightened, three-year-old Sophie leaped into her arms. Morgan shifted the skinny child to one hip. Sophie carried her newest favorite toy, a plush Bullseye from Disney’s Toy Story, by one leg.

“We baked cupcakes with Gianna.” Six-year-old Ava grabbed Lance by the hand and tugged him toward the kitchen. “And Aunt Stella is here.”

Lance let himself be dragged.

Morgan set Sophie down. “Mia, how was your day?”

Five-year-old Mia was the quiet child. “You didn’t come home for dinner.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Guilt flooded Morgan. “But I’m here now. Can I have a cupcake?”

Mia nodded.

They went into the kitchen. The girls’ nanny, Gianna, was loading the dishwasher. Grandpa and Stella sat at the kitchen table. In front of them sat a plate of bare cupcakes, three bowls of white icing and three butter knives.

Morgan’s grandfather wiped his mouth with a napkin. A hint of white remained at the corner of his mouth. Morgan pointed to the corresponding spot on her own face, and Grandpa licked his lips.

“Grandpa!” Ava said in a stern voice. “That’s your third! You’re not s’posed to eat them all, Right, Mommy?”

“Right.” Morgan lifted an eyebrow at her grandfather.

Grandpa laughed. “Life is short. Eat dessert.”

All three girls looked at Morgan hopefully.

Shaking her head at her grandfather, she turned back to her girls and said, “One cupcake each.”

“You were s’posed to watch him,” Ava said to Stella.

Stella laughed. “He doesn’t listen to me.”

Before moving in with her boyfriend, Mac, over the summer, Stella had lived with Grandpa too. Come to think of it, had Grandpa ever had the house to himself? Morgan’s older brother, Ian, had been in college when their father had died. Ian had been grown, but Grandpa had helped raise his three younger granddaughters. The man was a saint.

Grandpa reached for another cupcake, his hand trembling.

Stella slid the plate out of his reach. “I doubt your cardiologist would approve.”

A saint with a stubborn streak.

“You’d think, at my age, I could do what I wanted,” Grandpa grumbled.

“Think again.” Morgan kissed him on the cheek. “We love you too much for that.”

The girls went back to smearing icing on cupcakes. Ava and Mia worked with slow and deliberate strokes, but Sophie’s cupcakes looked like they had been decorated with a fire extinguisher.

Morgan sniffed. The kitchen smelled of roasted meat and vegetables. She turned to Gianna. “That smells amazing. What was for dinner?”

“Pot roast.” Gianna dried the slow cooker crock and set it on the counter. “There are leftovers if you’re hungry.”

“We ate, but I will have a cupcake.” Morgan plucked one from the plate.

Though Gianna was still too slender, the dark-haired young woman had put on at least ten pounds and lost her death’s-door pallor since Morgan insisted she move in with them four months ago. She still needed kidney dialysis, but her health and quality of life had improved, so much so that she’d insisted on being Morgan’s live-in nanny.

Ava carefully smoothed the top of a cupcake and carried it to Lance. “This one’s for you.”

“Thanks. Vanilla is my favorite.” Lance took the cupcake and ate it in three bites. “I’d better go. I’ll pick you up at eight thirty?”

They were interviewing Chelsea’s boss at nine.

“That’s fine.” Morgan said, glad she’d kissed him goodbye in the Jeep.

“Where’s Mac?” Morgan asked Stella after Lance left.

“At SAR training. Five days in the woods. He’s in heaven.” Stella often said Mac would never be fully tamed. Totally at home in the wilderness, he had joined the local search and rescue team.

“I’d better go.” Stella stood. “I have an early day tomorrow.”

“I’ll walk you out.” Morgan followed her sister to the front door.

“He’s really good with kids.” Stella donned her coat.

Morgan opened the door for her. “He seems to enjoy them.”

“You’re lucky to find a second good man.”

“I am.” Morgan pushed back at the sadness that crept up her throat at the reminder of her late husband. No more lamenting about her loss. It was time to look forward to the future. She followed her sister outside. “How was the cardiologist appointment today?”