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Calla talked about what she pla

After taking a sip of the Coke, I placed it next to my plate. “You guys have seen the pictures of Avery and Cam’s baby, right?”

Calla’s gaze shot to mine and she nodded. A moment passed. “I’ve never seen a baby before with so much red hair.”

“She could be a Weasley sibling,” I said, placing my hands in my lap. No one had sent me the pictures at first or brought it up around me when Avery went into delivery a week shy of nine months. I’d seen Roxy showing Katie two weeks ago, and then after a few days I got Avery’s number from her and sent her a congratulations text. After a few back and forth texts, I got a picture of the tiny baby girl.

Avery and Cam’s child was gorgeous.

Jax chuckled. “Don’t tell Cam that, because I think Avery tried to name her Gi

I laughed. “But Ava is such a beautiful name.”

“Fits them, I think,” Calla agreed, smiling tentatively at me.

From what I gathered from the bits and pieces I’d heard from everyone, Avery’s delivery hadn’t been easy, and there were some complications. I didn’t know the details and I hadn’t felt comfortable asking for them. I was just glad that in the end they were a happy family of three.

“What are you pla

“My grandfather left the house to me, so it’s mine and it’s free and clear,” Nick explained. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do long-term, but for right now, I’m going to keep it.”

“It’s a great house,” I threw out.

Jax nodded. “Hell yeah it is. You’re sitting on a nice nest egg.”

“Yeah.” Nick leaned against the booth, stretching his arm along the back. His fingers brushed over my hair, then played with it, but his posture had shifted. He stiffened, and I knew he was about to drop the bomb on them.

I reached over, under the table, and placed my hand on his knee, letting him know that I had his back.

“There’s something I wanted to tell you guys,” he began. “Something I probably should have said a long time ago.”

Jax’s brows knitted as he glanced over to a confused Calla, and then he said, “Okay. You’ve got my curiosity. What’s up?”

When Nick’s attention shifted to Calla, I wished I’d had the foresight to order a second glass of wine. His shoulders lifted with a deep breath and then he said, “Blanco is my grandfather’s last name—my mother’s maiden name—but my father’s last name was Novak.”

Calla blinked slowly as her face paled a little. “Novak?” She sat back, her hands falling into her lap.

Beside her, Jax frowned as he stared across the table. “Wait a sec. Novak was . . .”

“Novak Construction,” Nick confirmed quietly.

“Oh my God.” Calla’s hand rose toward her cheek, but she stopped short of touching the scar.





My chest squeezed when Jax reached over, wrapping his fingers around her wrist, gently pulling her hand back down. “What are you saying, Nick?”

Nick exhaled roughly and then told them everything—about his father and the electrician he hired, and what his father eventually had done. He told Calla that her mother had known who his father was and that he’d been shocked when he’d first seen Calla, never expecting to see her walk into the bar.

When Nick finished, Calla gave a little shake of her blond head. Several moments stretched out, and I began to fear the worst, but then she finally spoke. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“I don’t know,” he replied, and then said, “Actually, that’s a lie. You were dealing with a lot then and I didn’t want to add to it. I didn’t want to mess up your life any more than—”

“Wait,” she interrupted, her eyes widening as she held up a hand. “Why would you mess anything up? What happened to my family wasn’t your fault. I mean, you had to be just a kid then.”

Nick sucked in a ragged breath while a strong jolt of release burst through me. Jax nodded in agreement. “She’s right. You had nothing to do with any of that.”

“But knowing who my dad was has to be a shitty reminder,” Nick protested. “That can’t be easy.”

“It’s definitely surprising. I am a little shocked, but I’m so, so sorry to hear what happened to your father and mother,” Calla rushed on, her blue eyes shining. “I know what it’s like to lose someone, and that couldn’t have been easy on you.”

Nick closed his eyes. “You’re apologizing?” His voice sounded strangled, and I squeezed his leg. “There’s nothing you need to apologize for.”

“There’s nothing you need to apologize for either,” she insisted, her voice ringing with sincerity. “I get why you didn’t say anything, but I want you to know that knowing who your dad was doesn’t change the way I think of you.”

“I . . .” Nick’s voice was hoarse, and I leaned into his side. The arm around the back of the booth curled around my shoulders. “That’s a . . . major relief to hear.”

“Part of me wants to punch you for thinking that it would change a damn thing,” Jax said.

Nick chuckled as he dragged his other hand along his jaw and then dropped it on the table. “Yeah, I sort of want to punch myself, but once so much time had passed, it just became harder to say something.”

“I get that.” Calla reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “You know, what happened—the fire? It destroyed a lot of lives. Not just mine or my family, but yours, too.” Her gaze flickered to mine. “A tragedy is a tragedy, no matter what, but I’ve learned that it doesn’t define who we are and it doesn’t weaken us. It makes us stronger. It took me a long time to figure that out.” She glanced at Jax and smiled. “I had help in that department.”

Nick’s arm tightened around me and I rested my cheek on his shoulder. I smiled faintly at her and whispered, “So did I.”

Chapter 32

An older dark-haired woman who was sitting in the front row of the ballroom bounced the cooing four-month-old baby on her knee. The tuffs of red hair were a dead giveaway.

Ava Hamilton was absolutely adorable in her little white dress and headband. She had lost her shoes and one sock at some point, and I wasn’t sure how long she was going to last before those giggles turned into cries, but I had grabby hands. I wanted to hold the baby. There was a dull twinge in my chest, but it was . . . it was okay.

The woman holding her reminded me of Teresa, all dark hair and bright eyes, and I figured she must be the groom’s mother—Mrs. Hamilton.

I watched Ava’s chubby fingers open and close as she grasped at air until a tall older man caught my attention. He was walking down the wide middle aisle that separated the two sections of chairs, his stride stiff and awkward. The cut of the man’s black suit and even his trim hair screamed money.

His steps slowed as he approached Mrs. Hamilton. She looked up, shock splashing across her pretty face before she replaced the surprise with a smile. Her lips moved but I had no idea what she was saying.

The man was staring at Ava, and all I could see was his profile. His face was pale, his expression taut, and his shoulders rigid as he knelt beside them. Mrs. Hamilton turned Ava toward him. She said something and the man nodded. Then she handed Ava over to him.