Page 194 of The Revenge Plan (Forbidden Descendants 1)

“The shoo-in godfather,” I deduced, remembering Haven mentioning his name, at least.

He chuckled. “That’s right. And these are my parents, Zoey and Quinn.”

I nodded when they waved at me from where they were sitting, talking to another older couple.

“And that’s my aunt Caroline,” Haven told me, pointing out the blonde. “She’s my dad’s sister. Then there’s her husband, Uncle Ten, about to be Grandpa Ten,” she teased, causing him to glower.

“Grandpas are decrepit old men,” he announced moodily. “I identify more with Peepaw.”

“Oh Lord,” Haven’s aunt Caroline groaned next to him, rolling her eyes. “That one’s worse than Grandpappy that you came up with two hours ago.”

“Really?” Appearing crushed, he muttered, “Dammit. What about Pop Pop Ten?”

“Reminds me of duck-duck-goose,” his wife shot back.

“Well, hell.” Huffing under his breath, he glanced toward us. “I’ll let you know when I finally figure out what I’m going to be called.” His gaze focused on me as he finished speaking, only to tip up his chin in greeting. “Hey, I heard you got a hole in the head.”

My hand went to the spot that had fully healed. “Yeah,” I said uneasily, wondering what he was going to say about it.

Pointing his finger toward some faded white scars on his face, he said, “I fell off a cliff.”

Caroline snorted. “It was a tiny little bluff.”

“Hey!” He whirled toward her, offended. “I was in a coma and woke up with amnesia. That’s like fifty times cooler than the little concussion he had.”

“I thought he had an epidural hematoma,” Quinn spoke up. “That’s a pretty big deal.”

“Whatever,” Ten huffed. “I still win.”

Haven had been right. Her relatives could compete over anything.

As the room exploded into a bickering argument over whose injuries had been more severe—mine or Ten’s—Haven leaned up and kissed my cheek. “Welcome to my family,” she said. “Or at least a very small portion of it. I’m sure others will be arriving soon.”

I grinned, turning to bump my forehead into hers. “I love it.”

She wrinkled her nose as if unable to believe me. “Really?”

Touching her cheek, I murmured, “Of course. They’re what helped make you, you.”

Anything involved in that kind of miracle had my ultimate approval.

The End

My Mama’s No-bake Cookies

2 cups sugar

1 stick margarine

1/3 cup milk

1 heaping tablespoon cocoa

On the stovetop, bring ingredients to a boil, stirring continuously. Then boil for one minute.

Add:

1/2 cup peanut butter

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