Page 126 of Silent Partner (Pine Falls 3)

Brant’s hand traced my back over and over again. Sheridan and John sat on the other end of the couch, holding hands. No one was saying anything. This was getting very real. Especially for my in-laws. It was weird to think I had in-laws.

While no one spoke, my brain was buzzing. What a crazy day it had been. I still couldn’t believe we were married. And . . . that we had finally baked cookies together. Brant hadn’t lied when he said he baked the best cookies. Honestly, it was the sweetest experience of my life, and I found myself so grateful we had waited. I had never felt so cherished and wanted. Brant had taken his time and touched every inch of my skin as if he’d been trying to memorize me by heart. He had been generous and careful and made sure he gave more than he received, which only made me want to give him more. I’d ached with the wish that there was more of me to give. It wasn’t that I’d felt I wasn’t enough—it was that he had awakened the knowledge that there was more to be had if I searched for it. And sure enough, when we’d come together, I’d discovered a beautiful secret—together we were greater than the sum of our parts. I was more because of him.

While I didn’t want to get to DC, I couldn’t wait to be alone with my husband again. To be one and share every part of my body and soul with him. To be more and more.

Brant must have been thinking along the same lines, as he whispered very low in my ear, “I think we should join the mile high club. Meet me in the bathroom.”

I blushed deeply and shook my head. As fun as that sounded, his parents would know exactly what we were doing. Not the kind of first impression I wanted to make as their daughter-in-law.

“Did you say something, dear?” Sheridan said.

Brant chuckled. “I was just telling my bride how much I love her.”

That was one way to put it.

Sheridan smiled at the two of us. “Thank you for giving us this gift today. It came at the perfect time.”

John wrapped an arm around Sheridan.

“How are you holding up?” I asked Sheridan, who was looking a bit worn. She was as beautiful as ever, but she had dark circles under her eyes, and she’d lost some weight. Out of everyone, this had been the hardest on her.

Sheridan reached over and patted my knee. “Don’t you worry about me; I’m tougher than I look.”

I believed that.

“But you could do something for us.” Sheridan smiled.

“Anything,” I offered.

“We would love it if you called us Mom and Dad.”

I blinked back the tears that immediately swelled. I hadn’t called anyone Mom and Dad in so long. I’d thought often of my parents today. I knew they would be happy I had found a safe place to land.

“I understand if you don’t want to call me Dad,” John spoke up. “I hardly feel worthy of the title.”

I sat up from the comfort of my husband’s arms and took a moment to study my father-in-law. If ever there was a changed man, it was him. It was apparent in his softened countenance. His dark eyes seemed lighter, and his demeanor was more approachable. No longer did he intimidate me.

In the last few months, he had been nothing but kind to me. He had even built some shelves for my office and helped Sheridan and I renovate the space. Sometimes while we’d worked together, he would tell me stories from when he was younger. His favorite was about a girl he met on the side of the road. How he’d known from the moment she’d rolled down her window that he would love her for the rest of his life. He could remember the smallest detail about that day, right down to the red ribbon in her hair and the blue checkered dress she’d been wearing. That the staticky radio had been blaring “I Want to Hold Your Hand” by The Beatles. That girl had haunted him until he’d made his way back to Kansas to find her. I think she still haunted him. To know he’d almost lost her shook him to his core. Even now as he held her hand, he twisted her diamond wedding band as if he had to remind himself that she still bore his last name.

As I looked at him, I thought about what a dad is supposed to be. To me, he was a man who taught you how to get up when life pushed you down. He led by example and did his best to heal all your hurts. As checkered as John’s past had been, I thought he had done all those things for his sons. Even now, he was teaching us all how to own our mistakes with dignity and grace. And, mostly, he was teaching us what a gift forgiveness was. To lose sometimes meant winning.

---