Sable Peak (The Edens, #6)

by Devney Perry

The light that streamed through the windows loved her face. It caressed her cheeks and kissed her lips. It teased the strands of pure gold in that copper hair. Clear and a million. Today, I was seeing clear and a million.

“I see you.” My heart tumbled. My grip on the doorknob slipped loose. This was a dream. This had to be a dream. Everything about this night had been so . . . off. It had to be a dream. “Not always,” I said. He crossed the distance between us, Allie still snuggled against that broad chest. “Always.”

The moment I turned the knob, I heard Allie’s soft giggle. The smell of coffee and bacon hit my nose, and when I searched the house, I found my girls together in the kitchen.

God, I hoped that blush didn’t fade. I hoped that twenty years from now, she blushed just as often and kept giving me that sweet, shy smile.

“She rarely throws a fit for you. You tell her it’s time for a bath, and she thinks that’s the best idea in the world. Because it’s you. You’re her Ve-wa. Every time she says it, she might as well be calling you Mommy.” Vera’s mouth parted. “I didn’t think she’d ever have that. A mother. I didn’t even want to let myself dream she could. But she does. It’s you. You are her family. You are hers.” I crossed the room and took her face in my hands, holding those beautiful chocolate eyes. “And you’re mine. We are your family.”

I swept her into my arms, slanting my mouth over hers. If all I accomplished for the rest of my life was to kiss Vera every morning and every night, I’d consider it a life well lived.

Some of us hadn’t started with the last name Eden. Some of us had changed it with marriage. But every person in this house claimed it. We were the Edens.