“Or Mommy?”

“Or Mommy.”

Satisfied, Callum slumped back against his father’s chest and stared at the bush. She knew he would have a million questions about his day later when it was time for bed. There was never any shortage of the whys and hows of the world and she cherished those moments with him.

“Hey you two.” She stopped when her shadow had draped over the pair, capturing their attention. “It’s dinner time.”

One eye closed against the sun, Callum tipped his head far back to peer at her. “Daddy was telling me about the trolls and the elves that live in the garden.”

“Mm, that is a good one,” she agreed. “But you still need to wash up. Go on.”

Callum, with his father’s assistance, got to his feet and hurried back to the house. Juliette watched him until he was safely inside before turning back to her husband.

“How many is that today?”

Dusting off his trousers—his new ones, she noted—Killian rose. “Only six today.”

Juliette laughed. “Maybe you should write all your stories into a book that he can read himself.”

Killian scoffed. “What fun is that?” He moved closer and locked his arms around her middle. She was pulled into his chest where she nuzzled happily. “How’s my girls?”

“Exhausted,” she confessed. “I can tell she’s already going to be a spoiled princess just by how tired she makes me when I so much as lift a finger.”

Chuckling, he kissed her lightly. His palms splayed along the side of her protruding belly, burning skin through the material of her light dress.

“I can’t wait.”

Her insides warmed as it always did at the joy that filled his eyes at the mention of their growing family. “You sure? You’ll probably have to tell twelve stories a day with the two of them.”

Killian shook his head. “Don’t care. I’ve got two knees for a reason.”

Six years and still Juliette never once regretted her decision to leave Juliette Romero behind in a brilliant inferno. Six years of being with the man she couldn’t live without, living in a home they had created together, and raising a family neither of them ever expected they’d have. Just watching him with Callum tightened her resolve that she’d made the right choice leaving that day. She would do it again in a heartbeat given the chance. He’d given her so much more than just a new name in a new postal code. He’d given her a future with him and with their children. He’d given her safety and security and the kind of happiness written about only in books. It didn’t seem to matter how many years passed, she only seemed to fall more in love with him with every passing day.

“What are you thinking about?” A finger hooked a strand of her hair and tucked it behind her ear.

“I can’t tell you. It’ll go to your head.”

A dark eyebrow lifted. “And you say I’m the tease.”

Laughing, Juliette took his hand and tugged him towards the house. Along the way, he released her fingers to slide his hand around her waist. He fit her into his side as they climbed the steps together. Their hips and shoulders bumped in that familiar way she was so used to from years of being tucked into that place of comfort.

“I got a postcard from Vi this morning,” she remembered. “She’s loving the museums in Paris and the art classes she’s taking are coming along great.”

Killian pressed a kiss to the side of her head before moving ahead of her to help a struggling Callum shut the faucet off. He grabbed a towel and lightly patted the boy’s hands dry before scooping him off the stool and moving back to her.

“That’s good. How’s her French coming along? Any better?”

Juliette grinned as she pulled Callum’s chair out. “Well, it’s apparently good enough to land her a date with some smoking hot French guy. Her words, not mine.”

Shaking his head in amusement, Killian set Callum into his booster and scooted his chair under the table. “Does this mean she’s not with that British guy with the spiky hair?”

“I guess not.”

Grinning, Killian turned to her. He opened his mouth when a cry ripped through the house. Aniela, her face was as white as her apron, tore into the room calling for Killian in frantic squeaks.

“Sir, there’s a man at the door and he’s trying to get in—”

“Get Callum.” Killian didn’t even wait for the maid to finish. He snatched a knife off the table. “Now, Juliette.”

Heart hammering, she dragged the boy’s chair back and scooped him into her arms.

“Mommy?”

“It’s okay, baby.” She clutched him tight. Her panicked gaze went to Killian’s.

“Go,” he told her, already circling the table towards the front door.

Not waiting to be told a second time, she took Callum and ran from the room. The place was designed for that exact situation. It was how they’d built it, with ways to get in and out that only they knew about. Juliette cut through the dining room and into the library. Her fingers trembled as she dragged the third bookcase open on its hinges and set Callum inside.

“Remember what we talked about?” she whispered, her voice rushed and urgent.

Callum nodded, his little face white beneath his freckles.

“I love you.” She kissed him. “So much.”

“Mommy…?” Dark eyes brimmed, breaking her heart.

“It’s okay. I promise. It’s okay. Just be very quiet until Mommy comes back, okay?”

His bottom lip quivered. A tear slid down his cheek, followed by a sob that she quickly shushed.

“Shhh, baby. It’s okay.”

With a last kiss, she shut the door. Then ran to the bronze lamp perched on an antique table. She tore the shade off, spun it around and hefted it against her shoulder. Her heart thundered in her throat, sounding ridiculously loud between her ears. It muffled the world around her, irritating her as she pushed her back against the bookcase and waited.

The wait wasn’t long. She spotted the shadow before the footsteps. Her limbs trembled as she waited, breath held, counting every second.

“Juliette—”

With a scream, she swung. The figure lurched back just in time to keep from getting their brain splattered by the jagged base of the lamp. The metal rebounded off the wall, chipping paint and creating a hole.

“Juliette!” Killian grabbed her arms.

The lamp dropped from her grasp with a deafening thud. Her heart nearly stopped in her chest as she stared into her husband’s face.

“Killian…?”

“Jesus, you’re supposed to be in there with him!” But he hauled her into his arms, crushing her close as she trembled against him. His hands smoothed over her hair and down her back. “It’s all right,” he promised softly.

She pulled out of his arms and rushed to the bookcase. Callum peered up at them. His face tearstained and blotchy. His little arms flung up and she pulled him to her.

“I was quiet, Mommy,” he croaked into her shoulder.

“You were,” she whispered, her own voice wavering. “You were such a good boy.” Her filmy eyes went to her husband. “Who … who was it?” she stammered, fighting like crazy to keep from throwing up.

Rather than answer, Killian went to them and pulled them both into his arms. He kissed the side of Callum’s head, then Juliette’s lips before drawing back.

“Are you okay?” His palm settled on her stomach.

She nodded. “Just tell me who was at the door.”

Pausing long enough to search her eyes, Killian took Callum from her, perched him on his hip and took her hand.

“You won’t believe me if I tell you.”

He was right. She wouldn’t have believed him, not unless she’d seen it with her own two eyes and even then…

“Maraveet?”

The woman hadn’t changed a freckle since they saw her all those years ago. Her hair was shorter, but her eyes were still that cat green Juliette envied. She wore tight jeans tucked into soft, leather boots and a flowy top that complimented her full chest. In her hands was a purse she dropped unceremoniously when she spotted Juliette.