Monthly Archives: September 2020

September 4, 2020

Your Update: A King’s Command – Part 1

Happy Friday! This is an early update because I have a wedding this evening — and Monday’s update will probably be in the morning as well because my sister-in-law asked me to baby sit so she and my brother can go to dinner for their anniversary. I never get to see my babies enough, so I’m not passing on that chance — but we’ll be back on the schedule again on Wednesday.

This flash fiction series reworks an idea I had when I originally launched Flash Fiction a long time ago, and it was definitely the most requested of all my older series. I hope you guys enjoy this 🙂

I only have a few chapters left to edit for Mad World, so I’m super excited to be finishing that up and moving into the final round of edits. I can’t wait for you guys to read it it next month! I’ll probably be posting the first chapter or two as a sneak peeks when we get closer, so stay tuned for that!

In other knows, I posted the summary for Sunday’s 2001 flash fiction — I mentioned that these will be shorter stories and ficlets, and I had finished organizing my 2001 caps the other day so I was excited to get use some of them. I’m going to preview them here for you:

The Ghost in the Girl

Set March 2001. After Elizabeth storms out of the Face of Deception photoshoot because of Carly’s attack and Lucky’s failure to support her, she turns to Jason.

Status: Not Yet Published
Genre: Romance
Type: Flash Fiction Series
Characters: Jason, Elizabeth, Lucky, Emily, Nikolas, Gia, Carly, Sonny
Couples: Jason/Elizabeth

And here’s the banner:

This entry is part 1 of 27 in the Flash Fiction: A King's Command

This is an alternate universe historical romance. I think I said it was set in medieval Scotland, but it’s more like Renaissance, heh — early 1500s, just before the Reformation (I KNOW I KNOW I’M VERY OCD ABOUT HISTORICAL TERMS).

ANYWAY.

Very few of the names on GH are historical accurate to the time period or place, but I promise not to let it hurt my head if you promise to whistle past a Scottish laird named Jason. K? K. Cool.

Written in 52 minutes. Time for basic spell check.

Edinburgh, Scotland – 1514

The Royal Mile

Jason Morgan had only been invited twice to the royal capital since taking over the leadership of his clan — and neither invitation had been welcomed. Like any respecting Highland warrior, he preferred the hills and forests of his own land, not the pomp and circumstance of the monarchy.

But this was no longer the times of his grandfather or great-grandfather before him, when Highland chieftains could reign autonomously, and ignore anything outside their borders. Not with England encroaching every day — with an English princess marrying their Scottish king —

“Married the Angus,” his second, Francis, snorted at his side. He reigned in the horse as they turned down a street with market stalls and more people. “What a bloody stupid thing to do. Women—”

“At least he isn’t the regent,” Johnny O’Brien, the third of their trio said. “That must have stunned the Angus — married to the queen and none of the power.” He shook his head. “Poor bastard.”

Jason turned, cast a dark eye at both his clansmen. “Careful what you say and where,” he said flatly. “We haven’t had trouble with the Angus or the Douglases in a generation. I don’t care for them to remember the past.”

“Aye, well, if he’d been named regent instead of Albany,” Francis said with a sneer, “we’d have trouble right quick—”

They rode to the livery and turned over their horses, then went to seek rooms at the Red Lion just off the Royal Mile.

While Jason might not say it out loud, Francis was right to suspect that matters for the Morgans might have gone badly if Archibald Douglas, the sixth earl of Angus, had found himself with the powers of the regency upon marriage to Margaret Tudor, the widowed Scottish queen. Instead, control of the young James V had gone to John Stewart, Duke of Albany.

Jason’s father had courted woman that a Douglas had wanted — and while Alan Morgan had ultimately married another, Douglas men didn’t like to lose, and blamed the Morgan for the lass in question leaving Scotland for the royal court in London.

Archibald and his brothers didn’t seem to remember that, and Jason had every hope that the rivalry had died with their fathers.

All the same — best that the Angus wasn’t the regent with the powers of the king.

A few streets from the Red Lion, another Scottish family was checking into a larger, more stately set of lodgings. These were not a Highland clan, but a minor gentry from the Lowlands — might as well as be Sassanachs, some people sneered of the Lowland Webbers — indeed, their name was English as Jeffrey Webber’s forefathers had settled in Dumfries during a period when the county had been in English control.

A long ago Scottish king had ousted the invaders, and Dumfries had returned to the Scottish crown — but the Webbers had stayed.

Elizabeth Webber, the youngest of the baron’s three children, rode down the street with wide eyes — she had never traveled to the court before, but this time, her father hadn’t a choice. The new regent wanted to take stock of all the noble daughters and form alliances through marriage.

Elizabeth didn’t have much hope of being chosen for such an alliance—not while her elder sister, Sarah, was still unmarried. Classically beautiful with her blonde hair and blue eyes, tall and slender—Sarah was the perfect child.

And Elizabeth was the short, brunette freak that few people had even met.

“When we meet with the regent tomorrow,” Jeffrey snapped as he herded Elizabeth into the smallest of the rooms he’d rented, “you will not speak. You will stand behind your brother, and God willing, the regent will forget I have two daughters.”

Elizabeth dipped her chin, looking at the wooden floor. “Yes, Father.”

“If we are fortunate—no one will ever know what you are. And we will go home, and you will return to your life there.” His voice gentled slightly. “You will be protected there.”

Protected. Such a strange way to describe the life Elizabeth lived in Annan, her family’s estate. Locked in her room.

“You mean you will be protected,” Elizabeth said in a low voice. She raised her eyes to met her father’s. “No one will know your shame.”

Jeffrey’s mouth was tight. “We both have the same goal, Daughter. If you were discovered—”

“Aye, Father. I know.” Elizabeth folded her arms. “I will not speak unless the regent speaks directly to me.”

“Good. Stay here until we leave for the court in the morning,” Jeffrey told her. “I will bring your meals. The fewer people see you, the better we will be.”

He left the room, slamming it behind her. Elizabeth took in her surroundings, sighed at the lack of a window, but at least there was a cot and a table where she could sit. It could have been worse.

It often had been.

—

The next afternoon, Jason and his men were on the grounds of Holyrod Palace, awaiting their turn to speak and swear oaths of loyalty under the new regency — a useless exercise and one of the reasons Jason avoided the royal court like the plague.

He was grimacing at two idiots attempting to spar without an ounce of skill or training when a royal messenger appeared at his side. “Laird, His Grace, the Duke of Albany, wishes to speak with you. Now. Privately.”

Jason frowned, turned to the man with a suspicious glare. “Privately?” he repeated. “Why?”

“I cannot say, Laird. Only that he asks for your patience, discretion, and speed.” The messenger eyed Johnny and Francis ranging behind Jason. “Your men should remain here.”

“I don’t like it,” Francis hissed to Jason. “You’re unprotected—”

“And Albany has no quarrel with me.” Jason nodded at the messenger. “Lead the way.”

He followed the other man through a byzantine set of hallways, towards the interior of the palace and what Jason suspected to be the royal family’s private apartments.

“My Laid, the regent awaits you.” The messenger bowed, pushing open the door. Jason shook his head at the strangeness of the encounter, then focused on the room itself — a standard, nondescript meeting room.

John Stewart, the Duke of Albany was standing in the center, a tall, thin man who had seen only three and thirty years — and two strangers to Jason — a man and a woman — He instinctively narrowed his eyes, spying the tight hold the man had on the woman’s upper arm.

She was tiny, no higher than the man’s shoulder—brown curls peeked out of the headdress she wore, and her eyes were trained on the man holding —

She was frightened.

Jason scowled. “What is this, Your Grace?” he demanded. If this girl was attempting to entrap him into a marriage through some lie—

“Morgan.” Albany swept him forward. “Allow me to present one of my fiercest warriors,” he said to the pair across the room.

“I beg you, Your Grace, allow me to take my daughter away. I will take her home and you will never—”

“Hush, Baron,” Albany snapped. “The die has been cast. Jason Morgan is a Highland chieftain with a large holding in the north. And loyal to me. Am I wrong?” he turned to Jason.

“Nay,” Jason said, warily. “But I don’t—”

“This Baron Jeffrey Webber, and his youngest child, Elizabeth. How many summers have you, dear?” Albany asked the girl with a silky smile.

She swallowed hard. “Nineteen, Your Grace,” she said in a soft voice. “But my sister—”

“I have no need to worry about your sister,” Albany said with a shake of his hand. “And Baron, release her—”

“I—” The baron looked down at his hand where it was digging into the girl—Elizabeth’s—upper arm. He released her with almost a thrust and she stumbled away from him. She rubbed her upper arm, and now she was close enough that Jason could see tracks of tears on her cheeks.

“Your Grace—”

“Elizabeth has done a service to crown here today,” Albany told Jason. “And in return, I would like to see her rewarded with an alliance to a man worthy of that service.”

“What?”

They spoke at the same time — Jason with a roar of surprise, and Elizabeth with a shaken gasp. But it was the baron who was shaking his head.

“I cannot allow this, Your Grace. My elder daughter is much more suited—”

“Your eldest daughter is of no use to me,” Albany retorted. Jason narrowed his eyes at that, and Elizabeth just closed her eyes, folded her arms, and looked at the stone floor. “You will have to find another alliance for her.”

“Your Grace,” Jason began again, concerned that he was about to get in the middle of royal intrigue — a state of affairs he most certainly did not want to be involved in.

“‘Tis unnecessary, Your Grace,” Elizabeth said, her voice a bit stronger. She looked up now, her chin lifted. “I thank you for the honor—” She chanced a glance at him—then her eyes stayed on locked on his for a long moment before she looked back at the regent. “But I promise you, my father has—he has protected me all these years. I will be safe in Annan.”

There was something in the way she’d said those words—something that twisted Jason’s stomach — what did she mean that her father had protected her? What service?

“Do you not want a family, dear?” Albany asked, stalking towards her. “Are you uninterested in children?”

“I—” Elizabeth swallowed hard. “No. I should like a family. B-But—”

“Then we are well met. Jason has need of a wife—”

Jason frowned, but the regent ignored him. “And you are well above the age of marriage. Indeed, it is strange that none of your children have wed, Baron.” Albany arched a brow at him. “Have you been keeping them under lock and key in Annan?”

Elizabeth started at that, then quickly looked away as her father looked her furiously — and there it was — that strange feeling that something was not right. Is that what she’d meant about being protected? Had her father locked her up? Why?

“Of course not. I am merely careful with my children,” the baron said stiffly.

“Then allow me to reduce your problems. The ceremony will take place in St. Giles on the morn.” Albany turned away from them, sweeping his hand. “And that is the end of it.”

“Your Grace,” Jason began again, but then subsided when Albany merely arched a brow at him. He looked at Elizabeth, then at her father, and nodded. “I will be at the chapel,” he said tightly. “Am I dismissed, Your Grace?”

“Yes. Thank you, Morgan. You will see in time. I’ve done you a great favor.”

Jason didn’t look at his bride-to-be or her father as he left the room. Whatever secrets this girl was keeping — he could only pray that would not lead his clan into danger.

September 2, 2020

Your Update Link: A Shot in the Dark – Part 1 

Hello! Welcome to the second of the four new series. I’m so glad you guys liked Not Knowing When — it’s definitely fun for me to go back to that time period. I honestly haven’t written anything directly set after Elizabeth left the penthouse in October since 2003. I’ve spent a lot of time writing 2003 (A Few Words, Mad World), rewriting 2002 entirely (Bittersweet), 2004 (The Best Thing), and of course, 2006 (All We Are and For the Broken Girl), so it’s really fun to go back. And I haven’t written Brenda in YEARS so this one is going to be fun.

Today’s entry continues my Collect Your Regrets universe where I rewrite terrible Elizabeth stories. In the first story, I rewrote the maternity lie, and in this one — you might have guessed which story I’m rewriting by the ending of Darkest Before the Dawn.  I just remembered that I won’t be updating Friday night because I’ll be at a wedding, so I’ll update that one in the morning. We’ll be kicking off the Scottish historical

In other news — Mad World is zipping along great. I just finished Chapter 71 today. I’m going to be writing 72 and 73 the rest of this week, then editing the last two chapters on Saturday, which means I’ll be dropping the beta draft for Book 3 on Sunday morning. I can’t wait for the Patreons to read this new version. I’ve already added 40k and reworked a lot of beats. After that, I’ll be going into the final round of edits to clean up typos, grammars, and any other consistencies. I’m still working on Fool Me Twice, but I’m in good shape to start writing that one in October.

I also started Desperate Measures last night AND organized all of my 1999-2001 Liason screencaps by scene and date. I’m starting 2002 tomorrow, and this is going to make graphics and the rest of the facelift so much easier. I’m excited for that. I also continued working on the checklist, and most of the Bittersweet subsite is done. I just have to add the Character descriptions, and redesign the ebook cover.

I haven’t heard back about the job yet — the districts are crazy busy right now, so hopefully within a few days.

This entry is part 1 of 18 in the Flash Fiction: Shot in the Dark

This is a direct sequel to the Flash Fiction series, Darkest Before the Dawn.

Written in 55 minutes. Time for a basic spell check but no for typos.

February 2013

Port Charles Park: Ice Rink

“Are you blind?” Elizabeth Webber shot to her feet, cupped her hands around her mouth — “Hey, Ref! Get your eyes checked!”
“
“That’s crap!” Patrick Drake shouted from her side, dragging his hand through his slightly shaggy dark hair.

Sitting next to them, Jason Morgan just frowned, then looked at the rest of the parents in the stand—who were all on their feet, screaming obscenities that were a lot worse than Patrick and Elizabeth.

“She doesn’t look like she’d be a crazy sports mom, does she?” Laura Spencer mused as she picked up her grandson, two-year-old Aiden Webber, and cuddled him in her lap. “I’ll talk to Spencer about trying to decapitate Cameron. I promise.”

“He’s just mad that Emma made Cameron a nicer card for Valentine’s Day,” Elizabeth muttered as she sat back down. “And he keeps calling Cam a townie—”

“He likes to ignore the fact that he lives in town now, too,” Laura said dryly. “We’re working on it—” She winced as Spencer’s skates slid out from underneath him, and the eight-year-old started to slide across the ice. “Oh, no—”

“He’s back up,” Jason said, reassuring her. He winced as Spencer Cassadine got back to his feet, unsteadily, and started to skate in Cameron’s direction.

“I wear to God if that referee calls one more foul on my kid,” Elizabeth said, her teeth clenched. “And—hey!” She lunged to her feet again as Spencer bypassed Cameron and headed for Emma Scorpio-Drake.

“Oh, I know he’s not going after my kid!” Patrick said with a scowl.

“They know they’re talking about kids, right?” Jason asked Laura a bit dubiously. This was a side of Elizabeth he’d never seen before — but maybe it shouldn’t surprise him. She’d always been fiercely loyal to the people she loved and there was no one she loved more than her boys. It made sense it would translate to supporting them in sports, but this—

He found himself grinning as the referee managed to grab the back of Spencer’s uniform before he was able to finish swiping out with his stick towards Emma. Patrick’s daughter turned, narrowed her eyes, and launched herself at the Cassadine — the two kids hit the ice and started rolling around, shoving each other.

“Just like her mother,” Jason said, with a slow exhale. Robin had never taken shit from anyone, and he knew from experience she could throw a punch.

Elizabeth heard him, then smiled at him. “Yeah, Robin taught Emma how to defend herself. But—”

“There it is,” Laura said with a sigh, as Cameron launched himself on the two of them, dragging Spencer away from Emma, and the irritated umpire ejected all three of them. “I guess we’d better go get them.”

“I’m buying Emma all the ice cream she wants,” Patrick told Elizabeth as they trooped down from the stands and headed over to pick up their kids. It wasn’t the first game that the trio had been thrown out of, and they were used to the routine by now.

It was Jason’s first time making it to one of the games, and while he’d heard about the bitter rivalry, it was something to see the eight-year-olds all trying to kill each other. They could probably hold their own against Carly in her heyday.

“You know, Cameron told me that Joss gave him a Valentine,” Elizabeth said, as if reading Jason’s thoughts. She took Aiden from Laura and grinned at him. “I think that’s going to complicate things.”

Jason winced. “Oh, man. Joss takes after her mother, so—”

“It’s not my fault,” Emma said immediately as the adults reached them. Standing next to them was their beleaguered coach who was not having a great day.

“Mrs. Spencer,” Dustin Phillips said, with a sigh to Laura. “We’ve talked about Spencer’s sportsmanship—”

Spencer gasped. “He attacked me!” He jabbed a finger at Cameron who stuck his tongue out at his cousin. “You—you—you townie!” Spencer launched himself at Cameron all over again and would have reached him if Jason hadn’t waded in and grabbed Laura’s grandson — Elizabeth got her son, and they dragged them apart again.

“We’re working on it,” Laura said. “But in my defense, I told the league not to put them on the same team.”

“One more ejection, and I’m cutting all three of them,” Dustin said. He went back to the kids still playing.

“You’re ruining it for all of us!” Emma screaming, stomping her foot at Spencer. Her cheek was cut. “And you’re the townie, you dink!”

“I am not a townie! I live on an island!”

“You live on Charles Street you—” Emma went after him, intending to deliver a kick to the shins, but Patrick grabbed his daughter.

“Well, this has been fun,” he said dryly. “But I’ll take my kid home before she does anymore damage.”

“It’s not fair, Dad!” Emma complained as the Drakes walked towards their car. “He’s such a brat!”

Spencer glared at Cameron with an utter look of loathing that might have worried Jason if he wasn’t eight. “You turned her against me!”

“All right, all right—that’s enough!” Laura snapped. She grabbed Spencer’s shoulder and shook him slightly. “You went after that girl on the ice, Spencer Cassadine! And you tried to hit your cousin—”

“He is not my cousin!” Spencer wiped his nose, then glared at Cameron. “Uncle Lucky said you’re just a bastard—”

“Shut up!” Cameron roared, and then he was airborne, tackling Spencer to the gravel parking lot, then punched him square in the face before Jason was able to grab him, lifting him in the air, still kicking wildly.

“I’ll kill him! Let me kill him!”

Shaken slightly, Laura pulled her grandson to his feet, looking at Elizabeth with a blank expression. “I—”

“We should go,” Elizabeth said, tightly, sliding a hand down Aiden’s back as the toddler started to cry. Jason put Cameron on the ground, but kept an arm around his shoulders, holding him back.

“I think that’s a good idea. I’ll—I’ll talk to him.” Laura leaned forward to kiss Aiden’s cheek, then tried to hug Cameron, but he turned his face away from her. “I love you, baby,” she murmured, brushing his hair back. “I’ll call you,” she told Elizabeth, before taking Spencer’s hand and dragging him away.

“I want to go home,” Cameron said, flatly. He shrugged away from Jason and stalked towards their car.

Webber Home: Hallway

“Hey.” Jason touched the small of Elizabeth’s back as she left Aiden’s room, switching on the night light and closing the door. “Why don’t you let me put Cameron to bed?”

“I—” Elizabeth sighed, looked down the hallway towards her oldest’s room. “I don’t know. You think that’s a good idea? I mean—God, if Spencer’s right—I can’t believe—” Distressed, she looked away, swiping at her eyes.

“You’re still upset,” Jason told her. “And you know Cameron doesn’t like to see you cry. I’ll talk to him, and see if he’s up to talking tonight. Otherwise, it might be better if we gave him some space.”

“All right.” She clenched her hand in his shirt briefly before releasing it. “I’ll be in the bedroom if you need me.”

He kissed her forehead, and they separated. He waited to hear their bedroom door click shut before he knocked on Cameron’s door.

“I don’t need to be tucked in. Go away.”

“I just wanted to say good night,” Jason said. “Can I come in for a minute?”

“Jason?” There was a sigh. “Fine.”

Jason pushed open the door, then went inside the room to find Cameron sitting up in his bed, already dressed in his Captain America pajamas. He eyed Jason suspiciously. “Why are you here and not my Mom?”

“I can go get her,” Jason offered, closing the door, then leaning against it.”

Cameron shrugged a shoulder, then stared at his blanket. “It’s fine,” he said dully. “Spencer is a doofus. I know that.”

“He doesn’t seem like a nice kid,” Jason agreed.

“And I don’t care what Lucky says about me,” Cameron said in a small voice. “He’s not my dad. I know that. He doesn’t want me. He only calls Aiden. And he never comes to see him either. I don’t care—” His voice trembled slightly.

Jason stepped forward, perched on the edge of the bed. “It’s okay to be hurt,” he said softly. “There’s nothing wrong with admitting it.”

“I don’t need him,” Cameron said. He looked up, his blue eyes burning into Jason’s. “My mom is best mom ever. She’s all I need. I don’t need Lucky. I don’t need you either.”

“Okay.”

Cameron looked away, then a tear slid down his cheek. Then another. “I miss Jake.”

Jason exhaled on a shaky breath. Cameron didn’t often talk about his little brother, and he and Elizabeth were both careful not to reminisce about him often around the boys. “I do, too.”

“You were his real dad, weren’t you?”

“I—I was,” Jason admitted.

Cameron swiped his hand under his nose. “My real dad is dead. Spencer said his dad said my dad was a bad person. Was he? Did you know him?”

“I did know him,” Jason said carefully. “And Zander was…he knew how to get himself into trouble. But I know your mother liked him. And my sister—Aunt Emily—she loved him. She was married to him for a little while. He wasn’t all bad, Cameron. He just didn’t make a lot of good choices.”

“Mom says I have to be nice to Spencer because his dad just dumped on him Grandma Laura, and she didn’t want him stuck in boarding school. His mom is dead. And his dad doesn’t want him. So I guess—I mean—” Cameron sighed. “I’d be really mad at everyone if my mom dumped me on someone.”

“It sounds like a tough situation.”

“But my mom would never do that,” Cameron told Jason. “Never.”

“No, your mom would walk through fire for you. And your brothers.” Had walked through fire, Jason remembered.

“I’m sorry I said I don’t need you,” Cameron muttered. “I like that you live here now. Christmas was more fun this year.” He peeked up at Jason. “Mom smiles a lot now. More than since Jake died. Last year was hard.”

“I’m glad we’re together. I love your mother. And I love you and your brother,” Jason told him.

“You’re not going to leave, are you?” Cameron cleared his throat. “I mean, you and my mom—you’re gonna marry her, right? I don’t want her to cry again.”

“That’s something your mom and I have talked about,” Jason told him. “But I’m not going anywhere. There’s no where I’d rather be.”

“Okay.” Cameron nodded. “Okay. I’m okay,” he said, and this time it sounded like he meant it. “Tell mom I’m okay. She was right. Spencer is awful, but I think—I know what it’s like for a dad to dump you. And if my mom were gone—if I never knew her—man, that would suck.”

Cameron had his mother’s soft heart and kindness — with Zander’s recklessness. God help the world, Jason thought as he helped the eight-year-old climb under the blankets.

“Hey, Jason?” Cameron asked as Jason switched off the lamp on the night stand.

“Yeah, buddy?”

“You promise you’re not leaving?”

“I promise.” Jason ruffled his blonde hair, then Cameron grinned, turned over, and closed his eyes. “Good night, buddy.”

“Night, Jason.”

Elizabeth was pacing when Jason went into their room, biting the nail of her thumb as she walked from the window to the end of the bed, before turning around and starting again. At Jason’s entrance, she whirled around.

“Is he okay? Does he need me?”

“He’s fine. He’s probably already asleep.” Jason rubbed his hands down her arms. “By the time I left, he’d already reminded himself that Spencer has it pretty rough right now — and Cameron says he knows how it feels to have a dad dump him, and how much worse it would be not to have his mom.”

Elizabeth groaned, then let her head drop against his chest. “Oh, God. I tried so hard not to let Cameron feel Lucky’s leaving like this. Lucky was already not doing much with the boys by the time he left the country—but he never calls Cameron—”

“He doesn’t blame you,” Jason assured her. “In fact, you’re the only person in the world he does believe in one hundred percent, so you’re doing something right.”

“Something,” Elizabeth muttered. She sighed, pulled away from him, then sat on the bed. “You’re sure he’s okay?”

“Yeah. He was mad at first, but he’s okay. He’s a good kid, Elizabeth. A good kid who’s asking questions about Zander, by the way. Apparently, Spencer also told him Nikolas said Zander was a bad person—”

“I could really kill the two of them right now,” Elizabeth snarled. “Talking like that in front of Spencer—What were they thinking? I liked it better when they hated each other—” She dragged a hand through her hair. “What did you say?”

“That Zander wasn’t a bad person. He just didn’t make great choices. That you liked him. That Emily loved him.” Jason hesitated. “Cameron seemed worried I might leave.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth blinked at him. “Oh. Well, I guess—I mean, you only moved in a few weeks ago. Maybe we rushed it. Did we rush it?” She chewed on her lip. “I just—I want so bad to be a better mom than I had, but I think I keep messing it up—”

“You’re an amazing mother,” Jason told her. “And Cameron would be the first to tell you that. No, I think he’s just been through a lot. Losing Jake. Then Lucky moving away — me moving in. It’s been a lot.”

“Right.” Elizabeth frowned. “We’re not going to have this fight again, are we?”

“No,” Jason said. “I asked you to marry me. And you wanted time. This was a compromise. And we didn’t fight the last time,” he reminded her. “But I’m in this. For good.”

“Jason—”

“It’s okay that you don’t believe me yet,” Jason said. “But this is what I want. You and the boys. It’s all I ever wanted. When we talked about getting married four years ago, one of the things I wanted to do was adopt Cameron.”

Elizabeth stared at him, her eyes widening. “Jason—”

“I know Aiden—I know Aiden has a relationship with Lucky, and I don’t want to mess that up. And if you think it’s not a good idea—”

“You want to adopt Cameron?”

“I’ve always loved him,” Jason told her. “Because he was yours. And then because he’s Cameron. Lucky had the chance to be his father—he doesn’t want it. I do. I can’t—it’s not about making up for not being there for Jake.”

“I didn’t say it was—”

“It’s about this life we’re building together.”

“I’d—” She hesitated. “I want to talk to Cameron about it. But, Jason—” She leaned forward, kissed him, fisting her hand in his shirt. “I love you. For wanting it.”

“I love you, too.”