Key Of Valor (Key 3)

Then you did it again, in some variation, the next day.

It had worked, and worked well.

But it was true, wasn't it? she admitted as she slowed to make a turn. It was true that under it all she'd still wanted more. The little things, the pretty things she saw in magazines. She'd found ways to have them by learning how to make them. Nice curtains, a table arrangement, a garden that lasted from spring till frost.

And the big things. The college fund she'd started for Simon and built on a little each month. The business she'd begun.

So however direct her route, she'd always had her eye out for a detour.

Well, she'd taken one now.

She

pulled up at Brad's, saw Flynn's car, Jordan's. It made her smile. Her detour hadn't just brought two women she'd come to love into her life, it had brought three interesting men. And in less than three months, they had become more like family to her than her own.

She parked, waited for the guilt to creep in at that thought. When it didn't, she sat back and considered. No, she didn't feel guilty at all. She'd made this family, she realized. And through some miraculous twist of fate they understood her in a way her own never had. Probably never would.

She could love her mother, her sisters, her brother, she shared hundreds of memories and moments with them— good and bad. But she didn't feel, couldn't feel, the same connection, the same intimacy with them as she did for the family she'd made.

They were her more, she thought.

Nothing would ever take away what they'd built together over the past three months. Whatever happened next, she would always have her more.

Almost giddy with the sensation, she stepped out of the car and started toward the house. It felt good to stride up this walk, easy and natural to head for the front door not knowing quite what to expect when she opened it.

Dogs running, three men and a boy in a football coma, a male-generated disaster in the kitchen. It didn't matter what she found, because whatever it was, she was part of it.

Struck, she stopped. She was part of it, part of what went on inside this house. And the man who owned it. Slowly, she walked back to the banks of the river and turned, and looked.

She remembered the first time she'd seen the house, how she'd stopped her car just to stare and admire. She hadn't known Brad, hadn't really known any of them yet. But the house had caught her.

She'd wondered what it would be like to live there, inside something so wonderfully designed. To have some part in that perfect spot, woods and water, to call her own. And when she'd gone inside, she'd been drenched in delight and wonder. The warmth and the space had pulled her along. She remembered standing at the window in the great room and thinking how incredible it would be to live there, and to be able to look out that window whenever she liked.

Now she did. She could.

Her quest had brought her here, her and her son, to live inside that house with the man who owned it. With the man who loved her.

He loved her.

Breathless, Zoe pressed her fingers to her lips. Was this an intersection, she wondered, or a destination?

Eager to know, she ran toward it. She flung open the door, then held herself still, trying to interpret what she felt.

Ease, she thought, and comfort. And excitement, anticipation. A wondrous mix of the soothing and the giddy. Here, she thought. Yes, there was something here. Something that might be hers.

Moe dashed up, and she laughed as he bounded to plant his paws on her shoulders in greeting. "You'll never learn." She gave him a happy rub before pushing him down, and scooped up the puppy jumping over her feet.

"Let's go find our men." She tucked Homer on her shoulder like a baby, patting his back as she headed toward the noisy game room.

They were, as she'd suspected, sprawled everywhere in an intensely male Sunday afternoon tableau. The football game must have ended, but there was a new contest under way as Flynn took on her son in what appeared to be a vicious round of Mortal Kombat.

Jordan was slumped in a chair, a beer bottle dangling from his fingers, his long legs stretched out on a rug that was littered with potato chip shards, portions of the Sunday paper, and dog hair.

Brad had copped the couch, and with a bowl of nachos balanced on his belly looked to be catching a nap, despite the ringing sounds of battle from the screen and the floor.

Flushed with love for all of them, Zoe headed toward Jordan. He gave her a lazy smile, then cocked a brow as she caught his dark hair in her hands and bent down to give him a long, hard kiss.

"Hello, handsome."