Epilogue

The sun shone hot on Grayson's back as he helped Olivia scrape out a moat for her sandcastle. The Atlantic Ocean rushed toward them, just feet away, before retreating. It was hard to believe that two short years ago, his father would have been the one to help Olivia, whom he'd dubbed the family artist. Grayson would have been riding the run up on his skim board, waiting for his father's attention, never realizing Jerry's days were numbered.

His father would be proud of him for how he'd changed, though. Now Grayson lived like every second counted. On February first, he'd asked Fitz for Brian Sutton's address, and he'd sent him a greeting card. Every day and on weekends, he and Cameron mucked out the barn together. While Cameron got paid, Grayson had requested that his pay be deposited into his college fund. And since he wasn't sulking at school anymore, his grades were better, and he'd made a bunch of new friends.

Hearing soft footfalls in the sand, Grayson imagined for just a moment that his dad was about to join them. When he glanced over to see Fitz wearing a huge straw hat and a white, long-sleeved shirt over khaki shorts, he sent him a sincere smile, though it was hard not to tease the man for protecting his fair skin at the beach.

Fitz's shadow folded over him as he inspected their castle. "Wow. When can I move in?"

Olivia cast him a proud grin, while displaying the gap where her missing canines used to be. "Wanna help?"

"Sure. But I need to talk to Grayson first."

Concerned, Grayson glanced toward their rented beach house. His mother stood on the main deck holding eleven-month-old Mary Mae, who wore a bonnet to rival Fitz's straw hat. "Am I in trouble?"

"'Course not. Let's go put our feet in the water."

That was about all Fitz really did, unlike his father who used to take Grayson a hundred yards into the deep blue so they could catch waves on their boogie boards.

They went to stand where the water swirled around their ankles and the sand shifted under their feet.

"I'll get right to the point." Fitz slanted him a sidelong look. "I'd like to marry your mother, but I want your blessing first."

The ocean pulled away from them and Grayson sank deeper into the sand. The words came as no surprise. Fitz had been part of their lives nonstop since his abduction. But, as far as Grayson could tell, his mother never had him up to her bedroom. Sometimes when they kissed, though, it went on and on, prompting Grayson to look away.

He searched himself for resentment or anger, but all he felt was inevitability. "Yeah, that's fine."

"Yeah?" Fitz pivoted so they were facing each other. "You sure?"

Meeting the man's bright-green gaze, Grayson realized he couldn't ask for a better father for his sisters. With "Fitzy" in her life, Olivia would forget her old daddy. And Mary Mae had never met her father. Only Grayson would hold on to the memories. But that didn't mean he couldn't rely on Fitz from time to time. He nodded while swallowing the lump in his throat. "Positive."

Fitz sent him his trademark ghostly smile. "Thank you. I had a son once," he added unexpectedly. "Well, two sons, actually, but Collin was just a baby. My older son, Rory, was about your age. He would have liked you."

Surprise and then pity stole into Grayson. His mother had mentioned once that Fitz had lost his entire family to mob retaliation. "I'm sure I would have liked him, too."

They shared a pained smile. I could never hate this man, Grayson thought.

Olivia's voice broke them apart. "Fitzy, come see!"

Fitz, who suffered his nickname with stoicism, headed back to Olivia. "Oh, I see. You made a drawbridge."

"So crabs can get in."

"Oh, a castle for crabs. I guess I'm not moving in." His attention fell to her shoulders, and he pulled a tube of sunscreen from the pocket of his shorts. "Time for more protection, Livvy."

"Aww." As Olivia brushed the sand off her hands and stood, Grayson watched them together, acting like daughter and father already. Jerry Saunders would have wanted that. It was like he'd hand-picked Fitz to take his place.

Is that true? Grayson put the question to his father, confident that he could hear him.

His dad hadn't spoken to him in an audible voice since the kidnapping. But a wave rolling onto the shore behind him seemed to say, "Yes," as it foamed across the sand. A seagull gave a cry of exhilaration while winging toward the water's surface. And Grayson sensed his father was smiling.