Chapter 32

32

"There is an incredibly gorgeous man outside our house," Powell's mom said from the window, after Powell and her brothers had cleared the table not even an hour later. Dinner had gone by fast .

And been totally eclipsed by her mother's reaction to Powell's news.

Her mom's eyes were still damp. So were Powell's.

Her mom was ecstatic. Just like Powell had suspected she would be.

Her dad—not so much.

He said he was thrilled about the baby, but the knowledge that one Detective Gunnar Nils Erickson wasn't already planning the wedding did not please her dad at all.

Her dad was a wee bit of a traditionalist where Powell was concerned.

More than Powell had expected him to be. Far more.

Her parents hadn't gotten married until Mac was three months old, after all. Her mom had had a point to make back then. She had been very emphatic about it too. Powell's dad had thankfully caught on. Eventually. He'd struggled with that whole I'm-an-arrogant-Barratt-man thing back then, her mom had said countless times. She said Powell's father was still a work in progress.

Much like Mason Barratt's sons.

"But while I know that is the father of my first grandchild out there, I am not sure why he is out there. He seems to be with a bunch of Coleson children. And Heather and Cara, of course. Plus the one who looks like Cara the most—and the one who always reminds me of you, Powell. Although, most of those young women look a great deal alike. It is very hard to tell them all apart."

Gunnar was with Heather? Had something else happened?

"Which one is that?" her mother asked. "The smaller one."

"That's Samia, Mom. Trauma physician at FCGH. She's very Powell-y, and not just because they are the exact same size and eye color and hair color and I think even age. They really act alike," Alex piped up. "Samia's just so little and cute and nerdy. So reminds me of our Pow-Pow."

Little and cute and nerdy. Grrr .

Brothers needed their butts kicked. It was a well-known fact.

"There is another man out there, as well. He was there the night Haldyn was hurt," Powell's mother said, watching from the window and making no secret of it. "With Heather's family. His baby is older than Heather's. The very big, very angry, very beautiful dark-haired man."

Powell's mom always had been a little nosy. She'd been so full of questions. About Gunnar. And what was going on between them.

Questions Powell hadn't really been able to answer.

Her father stepped up to her mother's side and ran a hand down her spine. Powell's mom shivered like it tickled. They still touched each other every chance they could. "That is the commander of the Homicide division, I believe."

"Commander Rodriguez," Powell said, seeing the man. He really was almost as beautiful as Gunnar. Almost.

"That's him. He put that damned letter on my desk and told me to leave Heather alone or he would very helpfully rearrange my insides for me. I think he actually meant it," Mac glowered at the man in question. "And could do it. He was smiling when he said it too. Very happy, too happy, considering the subject we were discussing. A bit…concerning, now that I think about it. Since he's actually bigger than I am."

That didn't happen often.

Mac was six five and over three hundred pounds. He'd played football at FCU too. She'd heard that Gunnar's friend had played for Baylor. They'd probably even played against each other, now that she thought about it.

Commander Rodriguez had a toddler sleeping in one arm, where he stood between Heather and Gunnar. Heather's baby was strapped to her chest again, a tiny little knit hat on her head and her feet kicking so cutely. Gunnar and his friends were in a deep discussion now. While Heather's little Frankie and several other young children played, with Cara, Cashlyn, and Samia watching over them. "He has three kids. I think he's been spending a lot of time with Heather's family."

"Are they involved, then?" her dad asked. Sometimes, he could be just as curious as his wife, even though he would never admit it. "Heather and the commander?"

"No. They aren't dating and will both crack up if you even suggest it," Alex said from the table. "Mig's Heather's bestie forever, actually. He was good friends with Heather's twin's husband. The man Eastman murdered."

Powell's mother flinched. She was very sensitive to talk about any kind of violence. "I see. So he lost his close friend too. Poor man. I believe he is also a widower. Raising those three beautiful children all alone?"

"Yes. He has three. Miguel and Heather lost touch for a while, maybe. I'm not sure of the details. After their division disbanded. They met up again recently when she transferred here," Alex continued. "Now Miguel seems to be around all the time. He doesn't have any other family; he grew up in foster care. The Colesons have adopted him."

"Of course, they have," Mac said skeptically.

"They all swear they did. Mostly. There is one hold-out. They voted on it and everything. I had to keep the count. Even the kids got a half vote each. The Colesons take family votes very, very seriously. It was really sweet to see little Milan and Frankie and Nalla saying aye and nodding like they understood the whole voting process. Hope was the only nay. But I don't think Miguel minded that. He has other plans for Hope, I think."

"And what does Hope think about this?" Mac asked. "She's the one who was shot, with Haldyn, right?"

"Yep. That's her. Hope has absolutely no clue at all. She thinks Miguel is hot for Heather, and that is why he keeps just showing up. Because apparently, almost every guy ends up hot for Heather at some point or another." Alex gave a wicked grin. "Heather denies it…hotly, of course. There is nothing that woman does that isn't hot; we can all acknowledge that. I think Heather wants Hope to get with Mig, even though he's a cop. It's driving her crazy that her baby sister seems to be missing what's going on with Miguel, though. Heather has a bit of a romantic side she keeps hidden. She keeps trying to get Hope to figure it out. It's very funny."

"Sounds fun to watch," Powell's father said. He shot a level look at Alex. "Tell me something. Just how much time have you been spending with the intern who quit because of you? Her family? It seems like you know a great deal about their personal business."

"From what I've heard, he shows up there at mealtimes. Frequently. When he's not here sponging at mealtimes," Powell said. Cara had had a lot to say about that.

"You're sponging meals off the neighbors?" Their mother looked ready to smack him.

"No. I go over to just be neighborly. And then they feed me. But I earn my keep. I keep an eye on them all—they draw trouble like flies, those ladies. There was that brawl in their driveway over Cashie last week, and a dude followed little Meggie home from FCU. He wanted to serenade her but got the window wrong. He got Norm in the shower instead. Norm was certainly not amused . I helped Iagan take out their trash, and I even babysat him. Well, Iagan-sat. He thinks he's too old for a babysitter, and his mom was working late. No sponging, I promise, Mom. Don't ground me."

"You should be doing those things for your neighbors, anyway," their mom gave him that look. "No food required."

"They insist. Bonnie sends Iagan over to get me for dinner. Sometimes, one of those beautiful creatures brings me homemade cookies too. I don't even ask. I promise. I also carried Hope in from the car after her recent doctor's appointment. She was puny and sleepy and it's a long walk to the door."

"She was lucky," Powell said.

"No kidding," Alex said almost grimly. "They all got lucky."

Powell shivered. "Just what is going on in this city?"

"I don't know," her mother said. "But I suspect whatever it is, it has been going on for a long, long time. We should step outside and say hello." Her mother gave Powell a significant look. "Considering that is the father of my grandbaby, Powell Melissa. I would like to get to know him— before my grandbaby makes their appearance. And we can't stand at the window staring constantly. We need to find a new pastime."

"He has a shiner," Alex said. "Things got crazy in Masterson after we left, I think. For that little task force of Daniel's, I mean."

"What? He got hurt? What happened?" Powell fought panic. He was right there. Just outside her window. Perfectly safe. But she had to look for herself.

That was her Viking barbarian out there, after all.

"He and Heather and some of the cops in Masterson County were in a fender bender up there on the ice. After we left, apparently."

"Is she okay?" Mac asked immediately. "I mean, I know she's an immortal vampire goddess queen and everything, but were the girls with her? Cara?"

"Something to do with the case, I think," Alex said. "Brandt sat with Cara while they waited for Heather to get there after. He and that little cook of his. And…Quade Davis. From what I understand, Quade met Heather up there in Wyoming and is receptive to some contact."

"I'll let Luc know," Mac said.

"Don't. Quade doesn't want anything to do with Luc's side, he said. Not after speaking with Heather," Alex told him.

"Ouch. Heather Vampire Goddess Queen strikes again."

"She is a perfectly nice young woman who has been through real hell. You and your brother should remember that. And I have a bevy of perfectly successful, available nephews through your father's side that I'm sure would be quite happy to meet that beautiful woman right there," their mother told Alex.

"They would probably hit their knees in gratitude if I know my nephews," her father added snarkily. "Tucker has already asked me about Heather Coleson recently. He had that intense look in his eyes again. I gave him her address—but he already had it."

"Thanks to that video from Christmas, everyone practically has it," Mac said.

"I like Heather. We get along just fine. It's Mac she really can't stand, though. You should do something about that. Mediate or something. I've heard recently that Mac and Heather do make a beautiful couple, with absolutely beautiful babies," Alex told their parents. Very…wickedly. Powell coughed lightly. "I believe it, considering how pretty Mac is and everything. And Heather, well, hottest woman on the planet, after all. Can you imagine how beautiful their babies will be someday, Mama?"

Her oldest brother practically hissed at that. "Don't give her ideas!"

Powell listened to her family talking, trying to decide what she was going to say to Gunnar. She wanted to see him—to make sure he was okay, for one thing.

For another, she'd told him she was having his baby. Shouldn't he have at least told her he was back in the state ?

They hadn't spoken about the baby at all since that night in her hotel room in Wyoming. He'd texted her a few times, asking how she was feeling and if she was okay, and that had been it.

She studied him through the window. His arms were crossed over his beautiful chest. He had a dark look on his face as he said something to his friends. Those were very beautiful people out there. Heather and the two gorgeous men were the kind that garnered attention. Just by standing there. There was a man walking down the sidewalk, eyeing Heather now and everything. He hurried on past after Commander Rodriguez watched him for a moment.

But there was something dark in the way they stood now. She shivered.

"I'm going to go say hello. See if I can hold that beautiful baby. She's still so tiny," Powell's mom said. "Powell? Are you coming with me or not?"

"I'll go, Mom. There are things I want to ask Detective Gunnar Erickson," Mac said. His tone had Powell's eyes widening. It was all big-brother-going-to-kick-butt-right-now. A tone Mac had perfected years ago. And used just when she wanted him not to the most.

She wasn't ready for this. Not by a long shot. "You had better not, McKinley Barratt. Do not be an ass. Do not. You do not say anything to Gunnar about the baby. It's between the two of us what happens next. Period."

"Well, we can't always stand at the window, staring at the neighbors like voyeurs or anything," Powell's mother said. "Let's go say hello. It is the polite thing to do."

Powell just followed along.

She wasn't stupid—her mom wanted to hold the baby. She suspected Melissa Barratt was going to go baby crazy before the Viking grandbaby got there.

Powell wouldn't mind a few Ember cuddles herself. Frankie hugs either.

She wanted to know what was going on. What had put that look on Gunnar's face. And what she had to do to help. To make things better.

Gunnar didn't really have anyone else, did he? Just a handful of friends. Like Miguel Rodriguez, Gunnar didn't have any family at all.

Well, he had her now. Her and their Viking baby. What that meant for the future, she didn't know yet. But maybe it was time to find out?