She's the One (20 page)

Cycling through the many descriptions of family and friends Alexandra had given him the night before, he focused on the most tension-filled face and said, “Shelby, right?”

The woman’s gaze narrowed even more.

“Was it the sparks flying out of her eyes that tipped him off?” someone asked in a stage whisper.

Several of them smirked but no one laughed.

“You can’t take her,” said one of the younger boys. “Aunt Alex just moved back.”

Dylan forced himself to meet the accusing gazes of her family. “We’ll be traveling to Alaska—”

“She won’t get to see me play ball!”

“Now wait a minute—”

“Are they getting married?”

“It’s too soon.”

“She’s knocked up.”

“I think it’s sweet.”

“Dammit, Tobias, that’s our sister you’re talking about!”

“Stop!”
Alexandra said, her voice laced with exasperation as she walked back into the room. “Tobias, I’m
not
pregnant. And thanks for starting that rumor.” She set down the items she carried on the floor, instructing Colt to do the same before she took Colt’s hand and pulled him along with her to stand at Dylan’s side. “What are you all doing here?”

“What’s
he
doing here, Lex?” Shelby slid him another glare.

“I asked first.” Alexandra waited with an impatient shift of her weight, leaning against his side.

The oldest of the group smiled. “We came to give you your homecoming present, dear. You can’t possibly do all the work yourself so we came to help you.”

“Oh, Gram. That is so sweet.”

“Alex, you’re okay? What’s going on?”

Alexandra’s hand slipped into his and squeezed.

“I’m fine, Dad. Better than fine now,” she said with a glance up at Dylan. “Thank you all for coming. I really appreciate it. We both do.”

“We?”
Shelby asked pointedly.

“Yes, we. Dylan and I are together.”

“You’re Dylan MacGregor.”

Remembering Alexandra’s father was a fan, Dylan nodded and prepared himself for censure. “Bower’s my last name. MacGregor is my middle name.”

“We understood you’ve been living in Alaska for several years. Are you taking Alexandra back to Alaska with you?” her father asked.

Dylan took in the expressions on all their faces and knew he walked a thin line of acceptance. Screw it up, say the wrong thing and he’d never make it out from under the pile of male bodies taking swings at him. But say the right thing…“We will definitely be
visiting
Alaska because my father lives there but—” Dylan squeezed Alexandra’s hand before releasing it and sliding his arm around her shoulders “—we’re living here. And so it’s clear,” he said, directing his statement to her parents, “I love Alexandra and I intend to marry her as soon as she agrees to set a date.”

“Sounds possessive, don’t he?”

“Doesn’t have a freaking clue who he’s taking on.”

Alexandra glared at the two guys Dylan assumed were her brothers.

“And you’re okay?” Shelby asked. “Really?”

Dylan could see the worry on Shelby’s face and knew his fiancée’s best friend asked out of love. That made it acceptable. The size of her family would take some getting used to but he’d do it.

“I’m wonderful. Sometimes you just know when it’s right.”

“I think I just puked a little—
ow
, Megan, that hurt. Kiss it and make it better?”

“Will you two get a room?”

“Enough,”
Alexandra’s father said with a shake of his head.

“Yes, boys, there are children present. Such as this little man. Alex, you need to introduce us, dear,” Gram said.

Alexandra tugged Colt in front of them and glanced at Dylan again, giving him a look that stated loud and clear she had his back regardless of what the DNA test said.

“Everyone, this is Colt, my son.”

One year later…

D
YLAN SAT BACK IN THE OFFICE
desk chair located above Alexandra’s photography studio. Now painted a bold red, they’d bought the building from her brother Nick, remodeled it and lived on the second and third floors while their house was being built.

Alexandra and Colt’s laughter drifted to him from downstairs, comforting and happy as they waited for him to finish writing for the day so they could take Delilah out for her evening walk.

Following in her brothers’ footsteps with their penchant for marriages on holidays, he and Alexandra had tied the knot on July Fourth at her parents’ house. Independence Day. It seemed fitting since he’d never felt more free in his life.

Turned out he had been recognized in the airport in Atlanta last year when he’d come to see Alexandra. Two days after Christmas and his arrival in Beauty, articles had appeared in the rags and news of the fire resurfaced with photos of him snuggling a sleepy Colt close as he walked the airport terminal. This time the stories had taken a surprisingly positive turn and he was labeled as
being the wrongly accused father who’d nearly lost it all and—quite visibly—now cherished it.

The stories were embarrassingly incorrect on other aspects of his life but it didn’t matter. His book sales had soared once again and the photos quickly disappeared when some Hollywood hottie was caught cheating on her boyfriend. His reappearance became old news.

His editor had e-mailed him after the sighting. His agent, too. He’d ignored them all and focused on one thing: his family. Never again would he lose sight of what was really important.

Ansel and Walter had moved to Alaska to help Zeke run the lodge and the three old coots were having a blast. They’d hired Sam to cover the flights and spike camps for hunters during the season, and focused their talents on fishing and the telling of tall tales.

Dylan worried about Zeke’s health but knowing Ansel was there gave Dylan comfort.

Colt’s childish giggle filled the air again, and Dylan smiled at the sound. How many times had he begged God to hear Colt laugh again? Now he was. Every day.

Colt was receiving counseling at Beauty’s hospital and had gone from being withdrawn and leery to happy and boisterous in a matter of months.

Only one thing kept Dylan from total satisfaction.

His writing.

Writers write. It’s what they did. Scenes, dialogue, characters. The different characteristics appeared at will, impatient to be put to paper and created. And since November, ever since meeting Alexandra, he’d done that, hammering out the story of Evangeline and her gunslinger cowboy and their thrilling adventure to the
Klondike following the trail of a killer. The story had it all. Mystery, suspense, romance. Aspects that would appeal to a broad audience.

This was it. This was his comeback book if he chose to put it out there. All he had to do was be brave enough to e-mail his agent and start the process. Alexandra and her family supported him. Believed in him.

And now that a very discreet, very nerve-racking paternity test proved Colt was indeed his, nothing held him back but himself.

Hands shaking, Dylan clicked to send a new e-mail, added his agent’s name as the recipient and attached the file, but hesitated over the body of the letter.

What to write when he hadn’t spoken to the man since the fire? When he’d ignored the calls and e-mails and letters lending support and asking for contact?

Finally it came to him.