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My decision to be a single mom had been the riskiest thing I’d ever taken on and I’d done that knowing what I was getting into.

There were no guarantees. In life. Love. I knew that. It was what I liked about life. What I loved about it.

My stomach growled and the baby kicked and the decision was made.

I followed him into the kitchen.

CARTER

I was having an out-of-body experience; it was the only explanation. My pregnant sister and my pregnant…Zoe were talking about Bonne Terre, my family home, like it was Tara before the war.

“It sounds beautiful,” Zoe whispered, her eyes alight. Of course she would love Bonne Terre, the mystery and romance of it. What I remembered of it was being left there by a mother who didn’t love me enough to stay.

“It’s falling down,” I said. “She’s not telling you that part.”

“No, Carter, if you ever came home you’d know we’re fixing it up. It’s beautiful now. Again.”

I glanced sideways at Katie while my sister and my niece unloaded mountains of Thanksgiving Day food. Turkey and stuffing, cranberry sauce. Two sugar pies.

“It’s nice,” Katie said, nodding enthusiastically. “After Matt fell through the floor in the foyer, they fixed up everything.”

Zoe laughed behind me and my whole body smiled.

“Did you already have Thanksgiving?” I asked Katie, wondering where all this food had come from.

“Mom’s practicing,” Katie said. “Matt’s dad, Joel, is coming and she wants everything to be perfect. Also, Mom likes eating piles of stuffing.”

“She eating a lot?” I asked, watching my sister and Zoe out of the corner of my eye. How was this moment even possible? It was odd enough having my sister here, but Savannah and Zoe sat there as if they’d known each other their whole lives.

Maybe it was a woman thing.

Or maybe it was the magic of Zoe.

“Tyler says she’s eating for four,” Katie whispered, “but he only says that when she’s not around.”

“Ty’s no dummy,” I said, and was suddenly overwhelmed by how much I missed my family. The longing to see my brother was so sharp I braced myself against the counter. Ty, who made life seem so easy, who practically glittered when he walked.

The last time we’d all been together, Ty had told me to stop protecting them from our mother, that they were adults and I could cut the protective big brother act.

Ty had said it like it should be easy. Like my whole life wasn’t sewn up in the act.

“Carter?” Zoe asked from across the room, and I blinked back the ridiculous tears. “You okay?” she asked, and I wondered how she knew—what sixth sense she had about me that warned her when I was running low on control.

Savannah watched it all with hope written all over her face. Hope that I would fall in love, not be so lonely—it was written in big block letters right across her forehead.

Suddenly I wasn’t sure if having Zoe here was a good idea. It was one thing to have her in my life here, in Baton Rouge, but it was another thing to involve her with my family. I kept those parts of my life separate for a reason and she wouldn’t understand that. Zoe would blur the lines and make a mess of the rules I lived by.

“Carter?” It was Savannah this time, her voice sharp, and I realized I was being rude.

“Sorry. I’m hungry. How about you?”

She nodded, her smile cautious but happy, and I started making plates for all of us, happy to have something to do.

“Uncle Carter?” Katie whispered.

“What?” I whispered back, loading a plate into the microwave.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

I glanced back at my niece and her bright eyes and then past her to where Zoe sat at the table.

Last night had been amazing—there was no doubt about it. But we were both still surrounded by hard shells of secrets.

“I don’t know,” I said. For now. But when I told her the truth about lying in court, would she still want to be with me? And when, and if, she told me about the father of the baby—maybe there was something in that story that would change the way I felt about her. Though I couldn’t imagine what that could be.

“Have you asked her?” Katie asked.

“You think I should?” I asked.

Katie shrugged, the nine-year-old sage. “It’s a big move, Uncle Carter. A big move.”

You don’t know the half of it, I thought. I picked my niece up and gave her a squeeze before throwing her over my shoulder and walking with her and two full plates of food over to the table.

“So?” Savannah asked, picking at a piece of turkey. “How did you two meet?”

I opened my mouth, a vague lie at my lips.

“Your mother, actually,” Zoe said, digging into a pile of mashed potatoes.

Savannah’s gaze was a knifepoint against my throat.

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