Maggie Moves On(128)

The crowd cheered wildly. But he kept his gaze on Maggie. She clapped a hand to her mouth and watched as the Campbell Fountain came back to life. He met her in the center of the terrace, plucked her nephew from her arms, and gave the boy a loud kiss on the head before turning him over to his mother.

“It’s amazing,” Maggie told him over the din of the crowd.

Then he picked her up in his arms and marched toward the fountain.

“What are you doing?”

“Tradition, darlin’,” he said, stepping over the stone lip of the fountain into the water.

“You are the most ridiculous romantic,” she said, cupping his face in her hands as a few hundred gallons of water misted around them.

“’S not a party till someone’s in the fountain,” Dean yelled, dragging Michael into the water with him.

“Dean is going to be so pissed he ruined his shoes,” Maggie observed from Silas’s arms.

“Is that Wallace?” Silas asked incredulously. “Who’s he dancing with?” he asked, nodding toward the edge of the patio where Wallace, in his high-waisted pants, was slow dancing with a woman in a pink dress. The man was all but unrecognizable because of the thing his mouth was doing under his bristly mustache.

Wallace Pfeffercorn was smiling.

“That’s Flo, Wallace’s high school sweetheart,” Maggie said airily.

“You sure know how to throw one hell of a party, Nichols.”

She grinned at him and tightened her arms around his neck. “Imagine what the wedding will be like.”

He gave her a spin and then set her down in the water. “By the way, this is a conversation for a later date because I fully plan to spend the rest of the night necking with you, but the bridle on this horse has the date of the coach robbery etched into it,” he said, taking her hand and running it over the stone of the statue.

“You’re kidding!”

“I am not. Each horse has a different date. This one’s the robbery. Those two are the Campbells’ wedding day and the date this house was completed. Not sure what the third one marks. It’s between the robbery and the wedding day.”

Maggie grinned. “I think I have an idea,” she confessed. “But I’d rather neck with you for the rest of the night. We’ve got a whole lifetime to talk.”

“I am the luckiest man who has ever danced in this fountain,” he said.

“Look!” she breathed, pointing up. He caught it as it streaked across the night sky before winking out of existence. A shooting star, bright and bold.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he whispered.

“Do you think it’s a sign?” she asked.

“I most certainly do. I think your mom is here, looking down and feeling awfully proud,” he told her.

She nodded, eyes glistening. “Yeah?”

“And it looks like your dad’s here, too,” he said, leading Maggie to the side of the fountain where Sebastian stood, looking apart from everything.

He held Maggie’s hand out to the man. “Be good to her,” Silas warned.

When Sebastian Spencer toed off his trillion-dollar loafers and stepped into the fountain to dance with his daughter, Silas took it as another sign.





47



“Good morning,” Maggie sang as Dean, followed by Michael, slumped into the kitchen. “Who wants breakfast?”

Dean hissed at her and went straight for the coffeemaker. Michael eased himself onto one of the stools at the island and rested his forehead on the countertop. “Uhhhhhh,” he groaned.

She slid the last pancakes off the skillet and onto the plate. “We’ve got eggs—”

“I will vomit all over this kitchen,” Dean warned, slipping on a pair of sunglasses and taking the stool next to his boyfriend.

“Ugh. Make her stop,” Michael groaned.

“Pancakes, bacon, and hash browns,” she continued, undeterred.

“Morning, kids,” Silas said, entering the kitchen with his arms full of grocery bag totes. “I brought sports drinks, ibuprofen, and fixin’s for Bloody Marys.” Kevin and the kittens jogged into the room on his heels. They did a lap around the island before racing through the open terrace door.

“What kind of evil villain are you, expecting us to drink more?” Michael said to the countertop.

“Give me a sports drink and the pills, and nobody gets hurt,” Dean said, his face buried in a giant mug of black coffee.

“I’ll take a Bloody Mary,” Maggie chirped.

“Why are these monsters screaming?” Michael groaned.

“Did you get to retell them the good news yet?” Silas asked Maggie, leaning in to give her a kiss.

“Not yet,” she said, melting against him.

“Oh good. They made up,” Dean said dryly.

Michael raised his hood and pulled the strings so tight that only his nose and mouth were visible. “Yay.”

Dayana slunk into the room, a piece of paper stuck to her cheek, and moaned dramatically. “Has anyone seen Keaton?”

“I got this,” Silas said. He crossed to Maggie’s sister and peeled the paper off her face. “We left you a note last night. Your dad took Keaton to the inn for a sleepover.”

“Oh. Good. I didn’t dream that part,” Dayana said, shuffling toward the coffee.