“It can’t be anything big, right? Cory knows”—Austin gestured—“things, right? If it was anything serious, like a threat, she’d know about it in advance, and she’d tell someone.” Would she tell him? Probably not—and that was his own damn fault.

  “She’s insightful,” Joe agreed. “But just like gut instincts, what you feel isn’t always easy to sort out.”

  Maybe for the average person, but for Cory? She’d inherited some unsettling talents from Jamie. Oddly, when it came to her dad, Austin didn’t mind. Jamie was a fun character, mysterious, kind—and he’d been like a watchful guardian angel for the people of Visitation.

  With Cory, it was a whole different matter.

  For one thing, Cory claimed they would marry.

  Frowning, Austin stepped to the front of the shack, found two people waiting in line, and with a quick apology, filled their orders while surreptitiously searching for Cory.

  Finally, thanks to that bright yellow dress, he spotted her heading into the woods at the end of the property. Even from a distance, he saw that a frisky breeze molded the dress to her body.

  Such a body it was. Though she never emphasized her curves, or dressed to draw attention, to him—probably to most guys—it was impossible to miss. Somewhere along the way, Cory had gone from being a thin, long-legged girl, to a very soft, shapely woman. With her dark, silky curls unrestrained, she looked like a dream—the kind he had late at night, alone in his bed, when his thoughts got unruly.

  The second he was hugged from behind, Austin recognized Luna’s embrace. Comfort, that’s what she brought to him. So many different levels of comfort.

  Already smiling, he turned to face her, which made it easier for Luna to squeeze him tight. Over her head, Austin saw Joe grin.

  “Hey.” With a quick squeeze of his own, Austin set her back. “What brought that on?”

  “I love you, that’s what.” Luna put a hand to his jaw. “It always amazes me how big you’ve gotten.”

  With a crooked grin, he said, “I couldn’t stay a boy forever.”

  “I know. Now you’re a handsome man, but to me, you’ll always be that adorable nine-year-old rascal who stole my heart within minutes.”

  Chiming in, Joe said, “I still remember the black eye you sported the day we first met you.” He grinned. “You were such a tough little nut.”

  “But such a cute nut,” Luna qualified.

  Austin choked on a laugh. At nine, he’d been contentious, covered in dirt, and full of attitude.

  Remembering all that, he drew Luna back for yet another, longer hug, this time lifting her off her feet. He remembered meeting her for the first time, too, and being afraid to hope. Luna, being such an amazing person, had quickly reassured him. “I love you, too.” He never minded telling her so. “I hope you’re having fun?”

  “I’m having a great time.”

  Joe moved up next to her. “Trying to get her to take the day off isn’t easy. She keeps pitching in.”

  Sounded like Luna. She’d always been a whirlwind of activity. Pretending to be stern, Austin said, “The party is for moms, and you’re the best mom, so you should be enjoying it.”

  The compliment put an aww expression on her face. “I enjoy making sure it’s enjoyable for everyone.”

  Giving up with a laugh, Austin said, “I tried.”

  “I brought you something.” Reaching back, Luna lifted a small bouquet of white carnations. “We’re giving a flower to each of the mothers today. I thought of Chloe, of how much she loved you and Willow . . .” Letting the words trail off, she handed the bouquet to him. “I wanted you to have these for her.”

  It was just like Luna to make such an amazingly generous gesture.

  In the background, there but not overshadowing the emotions now touching his heart, Austin heard children playing, adults talking. The lake was a fun and busy hangout . . . although there’d been a short time after he’d lost his mother, Chloe, when other relatives had shut it all down.

  Back then, it seemed he and his sister Willow, as well as the lake, were too much trouble for anyone to deal with. Though their father had given the property to their mother as a way for her to support herself and them, he’d never acknowledged Austin or Willow as his own. When Chloe unexpectedly died, they’d been alone, lost, and afraid, facing one uncaring relative after another, as well as the constant threat that they might be separated.

  But that was before Luna had breezed in to take over. As a distant cousin, she’d claimed to know nothing about being a mother, yet that hadn’t stopped her from loving them fiercely, understanding their grief, giving her unconditional support, and making them finally feel secure again.

  They loved and missed their mom, but in every meaningful way, Luna had raised them. Even better, not once had she ever downplayed Austin’s love of his real mom. He’d grown up knowing Luna didn’t want to replace Chloe, just fill the empty spots left after her death.

  There wasn’t a day that Austin didn’t give thanks for having her in his life. They’d talked a few times about him calling her “Mom,” back when he’d been younger. With tears in her eyes, Luna had explained that she was happy with whatever he wanted to call her, as long as he knew that his mother had loved him, and that she loved him, too.

  As a kid, he’d been astounded by her. As an adult, he marveled at how she’d changed her entire life for his sister and him.

  In a million ways, he showed her how much she meant to him—and she showed him, too.

  What he called her really didn’t matter.

  With her colorful hair and quirky fashion sense, Luna didn’t look like a mother. To Austin, she looked better. Filled with kindness and a wealth of love.

  Finally, the flowers held awkwardly in his big hands, he said, “You are very, very special to me. Thank you.”

  A cagey look entered her golden eyes. “I’m also very observant, and I noticed you watching Cory.”

  Damn, nothing got by her. Trying to deflect, Austin downplayed his personal interest. “Joe said she was down?”

  “Yes. Something is wrong. I feel it. Would you mind terribly checking on her?”

  Surprise took him back a step. Sure, it was what he wanted to do, but he was so used to resisting . . . “I don’t know where she went.”

  Patting his chest, Luna said, “I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” as if that were a foregone conclusion.

  He looked at Joe, caught his shrug, and gave up. “I’ll go once Willow and Clay get here to give me a break.”

  “Go now,” Luna said softly. “Joe and I will watch things.”

  He almost groaned. “It’s a Mother’s Day party—”

  “And Willow and Clay will be here any minute. Now go on, before she gets away.”

  Rubbing the back of his neck, Austin considered that.

  . . . before she gets away.

  “She will, you know.” Luna moved closer in a show of sympathy and understanding. “A woman will only wait so long.”

  “She’s only twenty-three.”

  “And plenty of young men are interested. Pretty sure you noticed that, as well.”

  Yeah, he had.

  “What would you do if Cory moved away?”

  A terrible foreboding went up his spine. “Move away?”

  “If she’s not happy here, she just might, you know. Then what? Would you miss her?”

  Scoffing, he said, “She’s not going anywhere. Visitation is home.” Wasn’t it? “Jamie and Faith are here.”

  “Which only means she would always visit, not that she’d live here.”

  Did Luna know something?

  “Go,” she gently urged. “I have a feeling you have some things to work out, and it’ll be best if you and Cory work them out together.”

  Never before had Luna involved herself in his personal relationships. But then, never before had he been serious about any girl. Cory was different—especially how he felt about her.

  With new purpose, Austin said, “Right. Okay, sure. But I need to get Sully first.”

  As if he’d summoned them, his younger sister, Raine, came to the refreshment counter, leading Sully with a leash. Since Luna and Joe were Raine’s parents, her coloring was very different from his and Willow’s. They had pale blond hair and dark brown eyes, but Raine, who’d recently turned sixteen, had hair as dark as Joe’s, with golden brown eyes like Luna.

  While they looked nothing alike, his sisters were both very pretty.

  Sully, his adopted boxer stray, jumped up so he could see Austin over the service counter, then gave a friendly “woof” in greeting. After swimming in the lake, he looked happy but tuckered out.

  Usually, when Austin wasn’t working, Sully wouldn’t let him out of his sight. But he loved the lake, and he adored Raine.

  “Perfect timing,” Austin said, giving Luna one last, quick hug, and Joe a shoulder clap. Something drove him, some vague urgency, spurred no doubt by Luna’s concern, and it was telling him that he had to hurry.

  After he’d rounded the shack and taken Sully’s leash, Raine touched his arm. “She went across the road and up the mountain.”

  Did everyone know his freaking business? Playing dumb, Austin asked, “She who?”

  Not at all fooled, Raine smirked. “Sully is wet, but you don’t need your truck, anyway. You’ll catch up quicker on foot.”

  Blowing out a breath, Austin gave up all pretense of protesting. “Got it, thanks.” He took off at a fast, determined stride.

  Behind him, Raine laughed, Joe said something low, and Luna shushed them both. She didn’t laugh. No, Luna had always taken his happiness very seriously, and apparently, she thought chasing after Cory would make him happy.

  With the feeling she might be right, he glanced down at his dog. “You want to run, Sully?”

  Given how the dog broke into a lope, the answer was yes.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “If I was ever going to be a mother,” Cory said softly,

  “I’d want to be just like Mom and Luna.”

  Knowing he was busted, Austin looked down at Sully, who’d been very quiet as they approached. Didn’t matter that they hadn’t made a single sound. No twig had snapped. No dry leaves on the ground had rustled.

  Nothing ever got by Cory.

  Ever since they were kids, Cory had always known what he was doing, when he’d do it, and with whom he planned to do it.

  She’d probably known he would follow her, too. Maybe that’s why she’d taken off in the first place? To get him alone? Yeah, he liked that idea.

  Stepping away from the trees, he and Sully approached.

  They were high up on a slope overlooking the lake, but luckily, not deep into the mountain.

  Like her father, Cory thought nothing of pushing through the thick brush and tackling the steep inclines. She never thought about wild animals, recluse spiders, or ticks.

  Because Austin did, he preferred wide, well-worn trails . . . and luckily, Cory had used one this time, just as Raine had said. Usually, Sully had no respect for personal space and would jump right into Cory’s lap. But the dog was wet and now had dirty paws, so Austin held him back.

  It was cooler here in the shade of the evergreens. The spring rain two days ago had left the air fragrant, the ground loamy, and everything a vibrant green.

  Austin waited for Cory to invite him over.

  She didn’t. In fact, other than that comment about the moms, she ignored him.

  Something about her posture, the set of her narrow shoulders and the dip of her head, kept Austin alert. She looked . . . alone.

  A horrible thought occurred to him: Maybe she’d left the party to get away from him.

  As he stared at her, the wind moved those dark, corkscrew curls that couldn’t be tamed.

  Her hair had played into a few of his private fantasies. Dark, silky, free like Cory . . . That wild hair framed an expressive face dominated by dark eyes that always saw too much.

  With fair skin, a slender nose, and a lush mouth usually curved in a smile, Cory had matured from a cute kid into a stunning woman.

  For years now, it seemed there’d been a spark between them, ever since she’d moved to Visitation as a little girl. She’d taken to him right off, dogging his heels, often in his head, and her mysterious eyes never failed to stare into his soul.

  Before now, she’d never been reserved with him. It left him unsure how to greet her.

  When she didn’t say anything else, Austin stepped forward and sat beside her on one of the many jutting rocks. Her spine straightened, as if he’d surprised her.

  Had she expected him to walk away?

  Yeah, he sometimes had. Not because she wasn’t appealing. Hell no. He couldn’t think of a single woman with more sensual impact than Cory Creed.

  But there’d been times when her perception made him uneasy; around her, it felt like he lost control, as if she called the shots. It was unnerving.

  When he patted the space between them, Sully came forward and snuffled against her elbow. Smiling, Cory lifted a hand and stroked his back. Satisfied that he, at least, was welcome, the dog stretched out and closed his eyes in contentment.

  Silence fell between them.

  From the spot she’d chosen, he could easily see the lake and beach below, as well as her mother, Faith, who stood talking with his mother, Luna.

  Harking back to what she’d said, Austin frowned. “What do you mean if you were ever going to be a mom? Someday you’ll have kids, right?” Over the years, she’d claimed that they would marry. Just because he hadn’t taken the bait, that didn’t mean she couldn’t find someone else—

  No, scratch that. Even the thought of her with another man burned his ass. But if she didn’t marry him, she’d definitely choose someone else. He should have considered that sooner.

  “No.” Gently, she continued to stroke Sully.

  Seeing her long lashes in profile, the dusky flush to her cheeks, kept him off kilter. “No what?”

  “No, I won’t ever be a mom.”

  Austin didn’t like the way she said that with such finality. “Of course you will. You being you, you’ll make a terrific mother.”

  She slanted him a mean, speculative look. “Me being me?”

  He’d meant with all her empathy, her ability to understand things. But the way she was looking at him . . . “You’re a special person.”

  For only a second, she considered him; then she looked away. “I would never do this to another kid. Not ever.”

  Her conviction was different. Deeper. Cory wasn’t teasing, wasn’t trying to wheedle her way into his life.

  She didn’t look sad, so much as resigned, and it bothered him a lot. “You mean because of what you know? Your perception of things?”

  One narrow shoulder lifted. “It wasn’t easy being me, Austin. Not as a child.” A slight hesitation, and then, “I scared people.”

  The unspoken words hung in the air between them: I scared you.

  The urge to touch her swelled inside him. He curled his fingers tight to resist. “Not your mom.”

  Her expression softened. “No, not her. Not ever. She said she figured me out early, then learned to adapt.” Her smile brightened a little more. “She changed her entire life for me. There’s no one else in the world like her.”

  Everyone in Visitation now knew that Faith wasn’t Cory’s biological mother. As a remote viewer, Cory’s father had abilities that few understood. He saw things that hadn’t yet happened, knew things that no one else knew—just like his daughter.

  But Jamie hadn’t known about Cory. Emotion, Jamie said, skewed his perception.

  He’d had one hell of a surprise when Faith brought them together. One look at Cory with her dad, and anyone could see they were related. She was a smaller, more delicate, definitely more feminine version of Jamie.

  Cory twisted to face him, readjusting her position to sit yoga style despite the pretty dress, which she tucked in around her legs for modesty. “Different as we might be, you and I have that in common. Both of us love mothers who didn’t give us life.”

  “True,” he said, a little edgy whenever she turned that direct gaze on him, and maybe that’s why he blundered in saying, “Though I had a mom who loved me before she died.” He lifted the flowers Luna had given him. “I thank God for Luna all the time, but I haven’t forgotten my mother, and neither has she.”

  Cory’s smile faded. “I never knew my birth mother.” Frowning a little, she looked down at her hands. “Mom says that my real mother cared enough about me to give me away so I’d stay safe. I guess that’s something.”

  Damn, he should kick his own ass. Instead, he pulled a pretty white flower out of the bouquet and handed it to her.

  Her brows twitched in confusion. “What’s this?”

  “I’m sure Faith is right. Your mother made the ultimate sacrifice. That had to be really hard for her.” He trailed the petals over her knuckles. “She deserves a flower, too, right?”

  Accepting it, Cory lifted it to her nose. “Thanks.”

  Austin rubbed the back of his neck, but the tension there continued to grow. He glanced at Sully, and the dog stared back in what looked like accusation.

  This close to Cory, he breathed in the scent of warm skin and soft woman. His muscles tightened. “Why didn’t you stay at the party?”

  She countered with, “Why didn’t you?”

  Hoping to tease her into a more receptive mood, he asked, “You mean you don’t already know?”

  “I assume you followed me.”

  Austin’s jaw loosened. “You assume?” Cory never had to assume. She always knew with rock-solid certainty.

  Heaving a dramatic sigh, she said, “Actually, I blocked you,” as if that wasn’t momentous news. “So yeah, assuming is all I can do.”

  Rearing back, equal parts irate and disbelieving, Austin glared at her. “You blocked me when?”

  “Few days ago.” She twirled the flower, then teased it over Sully’s nose. He started to eat it, making her smile. “No, you don’t.” Uncaring that his fur hadn’t completely dried, she gave the dog a hug and went back to watching the party from a distance.

  Ready for a nap, Sully licked his chops—something he did obsessively before he slept—then he got comfortable beside Cory, his head on his paws, his body leaning into her leg.