“It was the best and worst thing to have happened, but”—my cheeks heat but I don’t want to lie—“I’m thankful it happened. I wouldn’t have gotten this second chance otherwise.”

My gaze locks on Isla’s and she smiles, and that simple act is something I’ve missed so damn much.

“So what are you doing with your second chance?” The words are teasing and the playful look in her eyes has my blood pumping a little faster.

“Well,” I say and then motion toward the crowd, “assimilate into small-town life in Tennessee, enjoy my retirement project, smother my daughter with love and affection,”—Gwen laughs as our eyes meet—“and ask a beautiful woman to dinner.”

“Are you asking, Cullen?” She faces me, hand on her hip and full of sass that gets under my skin in the best possible way.

“No,” I say before taking a step into her personal space. “Now I’m asking.” Her mouth pulls into a smile as she waits for me to speak. “Gwen?”

“Hmm?”

“Would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Why, yes I would.”

2

CULLEN

PRESENT DAY (Over a Year Later)

Ithought seeing my daughter pregnant would send me into a downward spiral into the past, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. One look at Isla and I know she’s nothing like her mother andwill benothing like her mother. I made excuses for Carmen for too long and Isla suffered because of it.

We both did.

I also know that my son-in-law is a better man than I was back then—better than I am now—but hell, I’m trying every day to make it right.

Isla rubs her belly and her eyes widen as she talks to Gwen before reaching for my hand. I give it willingly—a touch so simple but one I’ve missed desperately over the last two decades.

Isla puts my hand where hers had been a moment ago, and my breath catches in my throat. I don’t bother to hide the shine in my eyes as a not-so-tiny limb pushes back against me.

The urge to weep is almost overwhelming, and Gwen moves to stand at my side, her hand rubbing up and down my back. The woman is a saint and another woman I’m completely unworthy of but trying desperately to do better for.

“You okay, Dad?”

Even hearing Isla call meDadsounds different than it used to. It’s become a term of endearment instead of an obligatory title.

I clear my throat and nod. “I’m just so proud of you. So completely in awe of you, Isla. You’re going to be an amazing mother.”

“Stop it.” She swats at my arm. “I can’t keep cryin’ all the time.”

I smile at the slight accent she’s developed since being here and rub my thumb back and forth gently. I’m rewarded with another kick or elbow, and I grin as I pull my hand away and place it over Gwen’s where hers rests on my shoulder.

My glass of sweet tea is halfway to my mouth when Isla speaks again.

“Have you thought about what you want them to call you?”

Them.

The triplets.

“Oh, uh…” I clear my throat and Gwen squeezes my shoulder. “I called my grandfather Pappy, but it’s, uh…” I clear my throat again. “Whatever they want to call me is great.”

“I think you’ll make a great Pappy,” Isla says and then turns her attention to Gwen. “What about you, Gwen?”

Her hand tightens on my shoulder and I bite my lip to keep from laughing.