Page 103 of Thornhill Road

Finally, he said, “She’ll be with me full-time now.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

He paused once more, his grip at my hips tightening before he told me, “Like my house just fine—but you want to change any of it, run it by me. I’ve got to say, baby, I’ve got better cookware than you. Better dishes, too. But I do like your couch.”

I knit my eyebrows together in confusion, my hands slipping away from his face.

“What?”

“I know you barely had a chance to do anything with your place after we painted it, but fresh paint will make it more attractive when you put it on the market. You want to sell it, great. You want to rent it out, I’m good with that, too.”

My exhaustion was temporarily assuaged as a tremor of shock raced up my spine. What he was implying was suddenly starting to make sense.

Except, even though I understood what he was getting at, I couldn’t believe it.

“What?” I managed on a breath.

“Tess, I got MK full-time, my ol’ lady can’t reside at an address that’s not mine. Especially with the schedules we got. Not sayin’ that because I need you to be my backup. Not puttin’ that on you. But I gotta mind my girl; and I can’t mind my girl and take care of my ol’ lady if they don’t—”

I cut him off with a kiss.

I couldn’t take anymore.

If he kept talking, I knew I’d burst.

Ol’ Lady. He’d called me his ol’ lady.

I felt my face scrunch as I fought back tears even while I parted my lips, inviting my man inside of my mouth.

He accepted. Generously.

As I kissed Mustang long and hard, I did so with the knowledge that I had more than met my match. I’d met a man who was ready to shift gears before I was.

I’d never find another like him.

Seeing as I’d already planned on never letting him go, that was perfectly fine by me.

I broke our kiss, pulling away only as far as I needed to touch my forehead to his as I promised, “I’ll be your backup, babe. I’ll be whatever you need. We’ll work it out. I want all of you, Mustang—and all of you includes that little girl.”

Tilting my head until my lips grazed his once more, I whispered, “The Wild Stallions, Steel Mustang, banana pancakes with Mary-Kate—the open road, with you and that blue Harley—that’s all you, sweetheart. And I love every bit of you.”

This time it was Mustang who crushed his lips against mine, punctuating the end of our conversation with a deep, greedy kiss.

It was everything.

Well, almost everything.

Twenty minutes later, Mary-Kate finally opened her eyes.

It was late Mondaymorning when I saw the news.

Elaine was a bit of a news junkie. I was used to conducting my visit with the local news playing softly in the background. Even though she was getting close to the end and was losing her cognitive ability to remember any of it after it was over, I understood the comfort of familiarity and why her daughter, Sarah, turned it on routinely.

Usually, I didn’t pay much attention to it.

That morning, a casual glance at the television had me stopping in my tracks.

They flashed her photograph on the screen, identifying her as Beatrix De la Cruz.

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