THE HOUSE WAS BLESSEDLY empty, at last. It had taken some creative persuasion on Kennedy's part to convince Ari and Pru to go on to the movies without her. Not that she minded being in a house with other people. She was a social person by nature, and this house never felt quite right unless there were several people around. But she'd wanted some time to begin putting all the details of her plan together without drawing Pru's curiosity. And to write the email to Elena she'd been composing in the back of her mind all afternoon. After Xander's enthusiastic support, she'd finally taken the plunge and emailed back that she was interested in further discussion of the possibility of a book. It wasn't a done deal by any means, but Elena had already emailed back to set up a call to talk about details. Caught up in equal parts excitement and terror, Kennedy had set that aside to focus on her business plan for the inn.The living room was covered in lists. It looked like her legal pad had vomite

XANDER DREW HER IN, stroking a hand back through her hair before laying his lips on hers. The tenderness in his touch felt like a benediction. He knew all, and he still loved her. The miracle of that had her clinging to him, as if he were a dream that would turn to smoke and disappear. Under the gentle coaxing of his mouth, she began to unwind, releasing the tension and anxiety of the past couple of days. With each, slow degree, her heart began to ache a little less.His hands slipped beneath her shirt, skimming up her spine. Her skin shivered, then heated as those calloused fingers spanned her shoulders, pulling her to him until she felt surrounded. Until she felt safe. It had been so long since she'd felt truly safe. His mouth moved across her cheek, along the shell of her ear and down the column of her throat. Her head fell back to give him better access. He took his time, trailing languorous kisses up the other side, inching up her shirt as he went. His big hands swept up her rib

XANDER CALLED HIS MOTHER back, somehow managing to keep his voice calm and even, despite the fact that every cell in his body was dialed to disbelief or panic. He tried to focus on what she was saying but could barely hear past the roaring in his ears. Was this what it had been like for Kennedy when Pru called about Joan? Instinctively, he reached for her, curling trembling fingers around hers. Realizing his mom had stopped talking, he forced himself to speak. "I'll meet you there." He'd gotten the location of the hospital, at least."Hurry."He hung up the phone, then just stared at the blank screen, the last words he'd spoken to his father echoing through his brain.From this day forward, you're dead to me.What had he done?"Xander?" Kennedy's soft voice was as much a reminder of support as a question.Feeling utterly lost, he lifted his head to look at her. "I... He's been rushed to the hospital in Johnson City.""Then let's go.""I..." Xander closed his eyes, at war with

VOLUME TWO: TIL THERE WAS YOUR"I can't believe I let you talk me into this insanity." Cayla Black bitched into her white wine spritzer. Denver knew it was the only drink the active, single mom ever ordered, and she was looking at it like she wished it were something stronger. "Are you backing out?" Kennedy Reynolds' voice held a rare note of panic. His best bartender wasn't prone to panic, and Denver paused in the noisy task of racking glassware before the dinner rush to listen in more closely. "Oh, I can do it. I didn't say I couldn't do it," Cayla insisted, as though the suggestion that she couldn't mocked her event planner pride. "You just need to be fully aware that your race to the altar is giving me wrinkles. You see this line right here?" She pointed to some nonexistent blemish on her forehead. "I got that convincing Jolene Lowrey to make her prize-winning red velvet cake for your wedding. You're just lucky she has as much fondness for Xander's extremely fine backside as y

"Pretend you have manners, okay? We're trying to impress these ladies."Oscar plopped his butt down on Misty's front stoop and, tongue lolling, tipped his head back to look at Denver, as if to say, See, I got this. One ear flopped over his eye, making him look a lot more like trouble than a canine gentleman. With a little prayer that the mutt remembered his training, Denver held out the gift bag. Oscar clamped the handle between his teeth and turned back to the door, his baseball bat of a tail wagging so hard, it swept the front stoop. Man, he hoped this wasn't a mistake. He'd wanted to make a good impression. His grandmama had hailed from Georgia, and, during the formative years she'd helped his father raise him, she'd impressed upon Denver proper company etiquette. It wasn't something he'd been called on much to use in his line of work, certainly wasn't something he or Dad had worried about after her passing. But Denver had heard her voice in his head, telling him he'd best not sh