I apologize for the delay in posting. My middle son was in a car accident this past Monday evening—he's okay; everyone walked away, and there were no major injuries—and between the initial shock and logistical aftermath, my attention was on anything but this story. Thanks for understanding.

***Special event announcement in A/N below***

Song:

"These Times," SafetySuit

Chapter 7

"What about music?" His voice is deep, and I can hear the rustle of sheets or blankets on the other end of the line. Just the thought of him calling me while he's in bed has my mind drifting to naughty places.

I mentally scold myself. I'd die of embarrassment if he knew what I was thinking.

Rolling to my side, I hold the phone to the ear not resting on my pillow. The smile hasn't left my face since my phone rang twenty minutes ago. I feel like a lovestruck teenager. "What about it?"

"What kind of music do you like?"

I snort. "Just about anything other than the Kidz Bop I've had to endure the last few years. What about you?"

"Well, I've never had the pleasure of listening to Kids Bop—seriously, what the hell is that?"

"It's one step up from listening to nursery rhymes and 'Old MacDonald Had a Farm,' but it's bearable. They cover current music, but it's sung by kids."

"That sounds … delightful."

"Ha! It's anything but that."

"So … no kid music. I'll guess … pop music?"

I scrunch my nose. "Not really. I grew up listening to my parents' favorites: Aerosmith, The Stones, Zeppelin. Stuff like that. My mom had a hair band phase I kind of encouraged. I guess that followed me into my teens and twenties as music changed. I still listen to that when I'm by myself. What about you? What do you listen to?"

"I'm up for just about anything, I guess, but I'm a classic rock fan at heart. It was the music my father listened to, and I've also spent too many nights at the squadron or local bars here and there with old jukeboxes."

"I bet you have stories to tell."

He chuckles, and the sound warms me from the inside out. "I guess I do."

"Tell me about some of the places you've been."

He spends the next hour or so telling me tales of his years in the service. From his time as a second lieutenant to now, the places he's been, the things he's seen, the people he's met. All of it sounds like the adventure of a lifetime.

"That sounds amazing, Edward," I admit softly. "How can you stand being in boring old Phoenix?"

"It's not at all boring, especially not these days. When can I see you again?"

His question causes a smile to creep across my lips. It's only been four days since our date. "Well, it's my week with the boys, so it would have to be sometime next week."

"You guys swap on Sundays, right?"

"Yeah. Usually after dinner time, unless something comes up and that needs to change."

"Then maybe we can make plans for Sunday evening?"

"We'll have to see. Depending on when they go to their dad's, it may be too late for me to go out."

"Then I'll just touch base with you again over the weekend."

"I may not know—"

"Bella, it's okay. We can work with this. I just … I'd like to see you again."

The sincerity in his voice makes my heart race. It's been a long time since anyone's made me feel special.

"I'd like to see you again, too," I say in a low voice. Just when I'm about to admit to him just how much, Seth appears in my doorway.

"My stomach doesn't feel good, Mommy."

I pull back my covers and beckon him over. "Come here, bud."

"Do you need to go, Bella?" Edward asks.

I kiss Seth's forehead as he climbs in beside me, and thankfully, it doesn't feel like he's running a fever. "Yeah, I probably should. Seth isn't feeling so hot."

"I'm sorry. I hope it's nothing serious."

I playfully narrow my eyes at my son. "I'm sure it's just too many chips right before bed."

"Then I'll let you go. I'll try to call you tomorrow."

"Okay."

"Goodnight, Bella."

"Goodnight."

With a sigh, I disconnect the call and reach over to put my phone on the nightstand. As soon as my head is back on the pillow, Seth cuddles into me. "I'm sorry your tummy's upset."

"It feels better now."

"Oh, does it?"

"Yeah. Night, Mommy."

Chuckling, I reach over and turn off the bedside lamp. "Goodnight, Seth."

The house is too quiet. It's always too quiet when they leave.

I make my rounds, picking up their discarded game controllers and game cases laying around the living room. The throw pillows are straightened, the blanket that's supposed to stay on the arm of the sofa gets folded and laid in its place. Chances are the room will stay just the way it is until the boys are her after school tomorrow. But as happy as the tidy room makes me, I know in an hour or so, I'd give anything to have them home to mess it up.

I flop onto the sofa and turn on the TV before the melancholy can seep in too deeply. I flip through the channels, but nothing grabs my attention. Just when I think it's time to crack open a bottle of wine and soak in the tub, my phone rings. The name on the screen makes me smile.

"Hey, Edward."

"Hey, Bella. What are you doing?"

"Fruitlessly looking to be entertained, but there's absolutely nothing holding my attention on TV tonight. What about you?"

"I'm in the mood for ice cream."

I laugh at the randomness of his comment. "Ice cream?"

"Yeah. There's a diner north of the city that's open late. What do you say to ice cream and some company tonight?"

I look down at my "mom uniform" of jeans and an old sweatshirt. I'm too comfortable to change, and besides, I'm in no mood to dress up to go to grab dessert at—I check the clock—almost eight on a Sunday night. But if he wants to get to know the real me, this is it.

"Sure. But I'll warn you, you're about to get a peek at 'real Bella.'"

"Real Bella?" He chuckles. "Then who did I take out last week?"

"Oh, you've only seen 'fancy Bella.' 'Real Bella' has her hair in a ponytail and no makeup on. I honestly can't bring myself to get dressed up this late on a Sunday."

"I have no doubt you're every bit as beautiful as you've been every other time I've seen you."

"You say that now …"

"I should be there in about ten minutes. I was already on my way."

"Presumptuous, aren't you, Lieutenant Colonel?"

"Not presumptuous; confident. I'll see you in a few, Bella."

I barely have time to brush out my hair and locate my sneakers before he knocks on my door. I check my reflection in the wall mirror, smoothing my hair and making sure there are no stains on my shirt before opening it.

I'm relieved to see he's just as casually dressed as I am in a pair of well-worn jeans and USAF t-shirt. "Hey."

A grin lights his face. "Hey."

My eyes must be the size of saucers when he insists on getting something called a dinner split.

"Where do you plan on putting all that?" I ask as the waitress walks away from our table.

That mischievous grin of his makes another appearance. "I'm a growing boy." I raise a brow. "I'll just run an extra couple miles tomorrow." He shrugs like it's no big deal.

"Easy as that, huh?"

"I told you I wanted dessert." Again, he shrugs. "It sounded good."

"If I tried to eat that much dessert this close to bedtime, I'd be sick."

He tilts his head a little, and the suddenly curious look on his face is a little disconcerting.

"What?" I swipe at my nose. "Do I have something on my face?"

"Freckles."

"What?"

"You have freckles. I guess I didn't notice them the last time we were together. The lighting must've been too low or something."

I look up at the glaring fluorescents and glare right back, finally turning my focus back to Edward. "I was also wearing makeup the only other times you saw me. I said you were getting 'real Bella' tonight."

He reaches across the table and takes my hand, running his thumb over my knuckles. "I happen to think 'real Bella' is every bit as lovely as 'fancy Bella.' You're beautiful."

I'm a little uncomfortable with the attention, and out of habit, I slip my hand from his. "So," I say, clearing my throat, "how did you find this place?"

He folds his arms over the table and leans in. "I must've driven past it half a dozen times before I finally stopped." His beautiful green eyes twinkle in the same unforgiving fluorescents that are apparently highlighting my freckles. "You haven't experienced a banana split until you've had the dinner split."

I can't stop the giggle that bubbles out of me at his enthusiasm for a diner dessert. "I'll stick to my cherry pie for now."

"You don't know what you're missing."

When the waitress returns with our order and places Edward's in front of him, I finally understand what all the fuss is about. It's an entire plate of dessert. A deep fried, split banana is topped with three giant scoops of ice cream, whipped cream, cherries, and nuts.

Edward holds out his loaded spoon. "You need to taste this."

"What? No. I'm fine with my pie."

"I saw your eyes when it came out, Bella." He holds the spoon closer to my lips, insisting I take a bite of his dessert. "Come on. Try it."

Hesitantly, I open my mouth, and he slips the spoon past my lips, slowly pulling it out while his eyes never leave mine. It's innocent, just a friend sharing his dessert, but it feels much more intimate than it should.

"Oh, that's good," I say around a mouthful of deep-fried banana and ice cream.

"Right? See," he says, scooping up another bite on his spoon and bringing it to his lips as he winks, "it pays to try new things."

We spend the next two hours, long after the ice cream and pie are gone, talking. We talk about our families and friends. I ask him more about the places he's been just to hear him talk, and when he asks me about where I've been, I realize my list is a whole lot shorter than his. He's every bit as curious about my past as I am about his, though, and I can't deny how good it feels to have someone interested in my life.

When I tell him about camping and fishing trips I went on with my dad growing up, he doesn't seem even a little surprised. "I can totally see you roughing it for a few days, wielding a fishing rod."

I laugh. "I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not."

"Totally a compliment, Bella. What about your sister? She didn't strike me as the outdoorsy type."

"She used to be, I guess. But she certainly isn't anymore. I think it's the difference between raising girls versus boys. My boys love that kind of stuff, and her girls definitely don't. My nieces are the epitome of girly girls."

He reaches for a discarded paper straw wrapper, and in a decidedly un-Edward move, fiddles with it between his fingers. "Maybe … maybe the boys would like to go for a hike or something with us some day or something."

My heart speeds up at his mention of spending time with my kids. It's the first time he's mentioned them in the context of what could be labeled as "us," and I don't know how I feel about it.

"Yeah … maybe."

"Thanks for the ice cream," I say, still sitting in his passenger seat, not quite ready to get out of his car.

He turns in his seat, completely at ease, reaching over to play with the end of my ponytail. "Thanks for coming with me." His finger follows my jaw, and his touch sends sparks across my skin. "When can I see you again?"

"I don't know," murmur, my heart racing. "The boys are with their dad this week."

He leans over the center console, his scent overwhelming my senses as he gets closer. "Maybe I can take you to a movie or something?"

"I'd like that." I say breathlessly.

His breath wafts over me as he inches closer. "I would, too," he says, his lips finally touching mine, and I'm lost.

The way he kisses me, the gentle intensity of it, the way he reaches for me and cradles my head in his hands and pulls me to him steals my breath … in more ways than one. It would be so easy to fall for him, to let the tidal wave come and sweep me away.

But the thought of allowing myself to be vulnerable again, to trust someone else with my heart, scares me.

As if he can sense my hesitation, his kiss lightens, slowing to slow pecks, until finally, he pulls away, resting his forehead to mine, his eyes closed. "What are you doing to me, Bella?"

"Whatever it is, you're doing it to me, too," I reply, my voice not much more than a whisper.

"Can I walk you to your door?"

I pull back and meet his hooded eyes. "Maybe not tonight."

He nods once and retreats to his own side, putting some much-needed distance between us.

I fumble for the door handle, finally grabbing and pulling on it. "Thanks for tonight."

I step out of the car, but before I can close the door, he calls out. "I'll call you, okay?"

"Okay. Goodnight, Edward."

I close the door and walk toward my house, glancing over my shoulder more than once. It isn't until I'm safely inside that he finally pulls away, and as he does, something inside me twists.

I'm not quite ready to admit what it means.

Edward's calls are less frequent in the following days—his schedule is admittedly crazy during the week—but he texts me at least once a day. Even if it's a simple "Good morning" or "Goodnight," it's enough to put a smile on my face.

And Alice being Alice zeroes in on it.

"I take it things are going well with Edward?" she asks one afternoon over a quick lunch at a local deli.

We're seated outside on the patio, and the fresh air and time away from the store is exactly what I need.

I swallow the bite of my sandwich I've been chewing and wipe my mouth. "Yeah. Things are good. We met up for dessert Sunday after the kids left." I pause, thinking back to the spontaneity of our impromptu date and the searing goodnight kiss he left me with. A secret smile lights my face. "It was nice."

"Are you going to see him tonight? It's Valentine's Day after all. And it would be the third date, right?" She waggles her eyebrows.

I scoff and shake my head. "No. I'll have the boys tonight."

"I thought this week was Garrett's week?"

"It is. But he asked me to keep them so he could take his fiancée out."

It's Alice's turn to scoff. "If I were you, I'd come down with a bug and tell him you can't keep them."

My eyes fall to my plate, the chips there suddenly very interesting. "It's not a big deal. It's a little early to be spending Valentine's Day with Edward anyway. We're just trying to get our schedules to line up again so we catch a movie or something."

"It's got to be next to impossible to make the time. Especially with his schedule."

"He said he works pretty long days."

She slowly nods as she stabs at her salad. "He does. Jasper was his OPSO for the few months they were at Luke together, and he and Edward sometimes put in twelve-hour days. Being in charge of a squadron isn't an easy job. It's a lot of work. A lot of responsibility."

I push my chips around my plate, glancing up at her. "Is it … I mean, does that get any better?"

"Honestly, not really. But that doesn't mean he can't have a life. There are days when he'll be extra busy, days when he might catch some sleep in his office instead of going home. But there are days when he has down time. And I know Edward. He makes time for the important things … for his friends and his family. It's all about balance."

I nod, but my mind drifts. I've spent so many evenings and nights alone in the last fifteen years. I'm not excited at the thought of repeating that.

"I can see the gears turning in your head, Bella." I look up. "Remember when he came into the pharmacy to get his prescription filled?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not sure if you realize how far out of his way he went to do that. I joked about him slumming it with the civilians, but I was being kind of serious. His days are busy, but he went out of his way to come to Cope's to see you."

"I know, but—"

"No, I don't think you understand. The guys who make it as far as he has aren't easily deterred. They're goal-driven and determined. He's obviously interested in seeing you. And if you give him the green light, you'll see a whole different side of him. If you decide to give it a real try, you'll be a priority, Bella. For as long as I've known Edward, he's always put the important things in his life first."

A priority.

It feels like a lifetime since anyone has put me first.

Hours later, in the middle of the hectic end-of-day rush, the bell over the pharmacy door chimes, and in walks a delivery guy carrying a giant bouquet of wildflowers.

"Can I help you?" Sue asks.

He checks the card attached to the bouquet. "I've got a delivery for a Bella McCarty."

Sue flashes me a grin. "Looks like somebody has a special someone."

"I just need a signature," the guy says, handing me a clipboard before trading it for the vase. "Have a nice day."

"Thanks," I murmur as I take it from him. "I'm just gonna …" I thumb over my shoulder toward the break room.

When I'm finally alone, I pluck the tiny envelope from the cluster of blooms and read the handwritten note inside.

Happy Valentine's Day, Bella.

Looking forward to seeing your

beautiful smile soon.

~Edward

That unfamiliar feeling of being a priority sparks to life somewhere deep inside me.

I'm caught off guard by how terrifying it suddenly feels.

With the sounds coming from the living room where the guys are watching TV and the shouting as the kids run in and out of the house, you'd think my parents' house was full to the brim with people. But in reality, it's only my parents, Rose and Em and their girls, and me and my kids here. My boys and my youngest niece, Serena, are running in and out of the back door. My dad's Labrador retriever, Buddy, is in the mix, trying to keep up with all the excitement pulsing through the house. Our visits have to be the most excitement the dog gets. Otherwise, Charlie's fishing trips are probably the highlight of his average weekends. But even with the noise and commotion swirling around me, I've missed the chaos that always fills the house when we all visit.

While Emmett is in the living room watching a NASCAR race with Dad, us girls, minus Serena, are all gathered in the kitchen. The lunch dishes have long since been washed, and Mom and I are seated at the kitchen island going through her recipes, looking for a dessert bar I remember her making years ago. Meanwhile, Rose and her oldest, Emma, are on the other side of the island. My niece is painting her nails as my sister flips through a magazine.

"So, Emma, how is Luca these days?" It's hard to believe she's already old enough to date.

She ducks her head, and her cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink. "He's good."

My sister motions to her daughter's hand. "Check out the bracelet her got her for Valentine's Day."

"Oh, that's so pretty, sweetheart," Mom croons. "He did good."

I give my niece a smile. It's not hard to remember being her age and experiencing my first love. "That's really pretty, Em."

"Thanks," she says shyly.

"What about you, Bella?" Mom asks, side-eyeing me as she flips through her recipe box. "Your sister tells me you went out with a young man a few weeks ago." My mother, bless her heart, has the decency not to look me in the eye as she fishes for details.

I give Rose a dirty look. "Did she?"

The smug traitor in question is, unfortunately, safe for now on the other side of the counter.

"Don't be mad at Rosie, honey," Mom says, placing a hand over mine. "She was excited for you. Now, tell me about him."

I groan. "Mom, we've been out twice."

"What!" Rose pipes up. "You went out with him again? When?"

"A couple weeks ago. It was a last-minute, spontaneous thing. We grabbed dessert one night after the boys went to Garrett's."

"Are you going to see him again?" Mom asks.

I think about the daily texts we've exchanged and how they always leave me grinning from ear to ear.

"Look at that, Mom!" Rose shouts, pointing my way. "Look at her face!"

"Stop teasing her, Rosalie," Mom scolds. She turns her attention back to me. "When are you going to see him again?"

"I don't know. Our schedules are hard to line up."

"I'm sure things will work out. Now, tell me about your young man."

"Oh, he's a man, all right," Rose quips.

"Would you stop it, please?" I growl in my sister's direction.

She holds her hands up. "Sorry. My bad." Judging by the broad smile on her face, she isn't sorry in the least.

"I met him at a party on base."

Mom leans in, resting her chin on her folded hands. "He's Air Force, right?"

"Yeah. We talked, we danced, and—"

Mom's eyes get huge. "You danced?"

Another groan escapes me, and I slip off my barstool to refill my glass with the wine my sister blessedly brought with her.

"Okay, okay, I'll stop teasing you," Mom says. "But, honey, you have to admit, you're not usually one to cut a rug."

I pour a little more than I should and drink half of it before turning around to face the proverbial firing squad. I cross an arm over my waist and lean against the kitchen counter. "Yes, I danced. He gave me his number, and I finally got in touch with him a couple weeks ago."

"Where did he take you? What did you do?" Mom leans farther over the bar with every question.

"A restaurant, and we talked." I tip my glass up and guzzle down the other half of the Zinfandel.

"What's he like? He's a pilot, right?" Mom glances over at Rose. "You said he was a pilot, right?"

Rose nods. "Yeah. And he's got game, too." My sister looks at me. "Tell her some of the lines he was feeding you."

"Ugh." I push off the counter and climb back onto my barstool, admitting defeat. I don't know why I thought I'd be able to escape this without getting the third degree. "Yeah, he's a pilot. He's a lieutenant colonel. He runs a whole squadron."

"Well, that's impressive. Aren't some of those guys, you know, a little"—Mom lowers her voice—"arrogant?"

Rose looks my way, an eyebrow arched as she waits for me to answer.

"I guess some of them are, but he doesn't seem to be. He's been a perfect gentleman both times he took me out."

Rose grins. "Not the whole time."

Mom looks between the two of us. "What does she mean, Bella? Did—" She leans in closer and whispers, "Did you sleep with him?"

"Mom! What the hell kind of question is that?"

"What? Did you?"

"No," I hiss. "And why would you even ask that?"

She shrugs. "You're finally free of that no-good jerk, and I thought you'd let loose for once."

I look at my sister, but she just gives me a look as if to say, "Told you so."

"No, I didn't do … that. We had a nice evening, he dropped me off at home and kissed me goodnight."

"And that's it? Dinner out and dessert one night?"

My lips disappear behind my teeth as I fight a grin.

"Look at that, Mom," Rose says, leaning toward our mother. "She's holding out on us."

Mom's face lights up. "She is, isn't she?"

"Yeah," I admit, "he calls … texts a lot. We talk several times a week. And he, uh, actually texts me every morning."

Their "awww" in stereo is so loud, it gets Dad's attention as he passes by the kitchen doorway.

"What's goin' on in here?" he asks, his familiar gruffness the same it's always been.

"Charlie, our Bella has a sweetheart."

"Mom," I groan. "Aren't I a little old to have a sweetheart?"

Dad steps up beside me and wraps an arm around my shoulder. "Do you?"

I lean my head against his chest and soak up the warmth of his hug. "I don't know. We're just talking right now. It's kind of new, and with the boys and everything, I'm taking it slow."

"Slow is good." He kisses the top of my head, murmuring, "I don't want to see you get hurt again."

His words give voice to one of my biggest fears, and they echo in my ears the rest of the day.

When Rose and Emmett leave with the girls, my boys insist on watching their favorite of my parents' movies on Grandpa Charlie's big screen. So, once they're settled on the couch on either side of their grandfather with a bowl of popcorn, I pour myself another glass of wine and escape to the quiet of the back porch. It's always been peaceful here. We're away from any big-city noise, away from the light pollution of Phoenix, so the night sky is clear and bright with stars.

Mom pokes her head out the door and spots me. "There you are," she says as she closes the door behind her. The ancient glider on her back porch groans in protest as she settles in beside me. "They pick that movie every time they come visit, you know?"

I hum, sipping from my glass.

"You look a little lost in thought tonight, honey. Everything okay?"

I shrug.

She wraps her arm around my shoulders and leans her head against mine. "Anything you want to talk about?"

"I'm scared," I whisper, finally saying the words out loud that have been lingering in the back of my mind for weeks.

"Of what, Bella? Does this have something to do with the man you're seeing?"

"I don't know if I'd say I'm seeing him. We've gone out a couple times."

"You said you kissed him."

"Well, yeah."

"And you're scared of what exactly?"

"Of putting myself out there. Of getting hurt again. Of losing myself trying to fit into someone else's life."

"Lose yourself? Who's asking you to change to fit into their life?"

"No one," I say with a huff. "It's just a lot more complicated doing this as an adult. How do you even figure out if you fit with someone who has his whole life planned out? How do I decide if it's worth all the trouble?"

"Well, honey, you're the only one who can answer that. But from what little you and your sister have told me about him, this guy sounds like he's pretty interested. And he knows you have kids and a job and other responsibilities. I don't think he'd still be calling and asking to see you if he thought you weren't worth the trouble."

"What about when he moves on to his next assignment? I don't know if I want to put any more energy into something temporary."

"Has he said anything to make you think it's only temporary?"

"No, but he's career military. He's probably used to finding someone to fill his time when he moves to a new place."

"Has he given you any reason to think that's what he does?"

"Well, no, but—"

"I don't think you're being fair to him, Bella. I think you need to have some real conversation with him and ask what he's after. Let me ask you this: Do you feel anything for this man?"

I think back to the time we've spent together, to the conversations we've had and all the text messages we've exchanged … to the kisses we've shared.

"I'm scared that I might already feel too much."

"And you don't want to go through what you did with Garrett."

"Yeah."

"So, you plan to spend the rest of your life alone?"

"No, but—"

"But nothing. Of course, I don't want to see you get hurt again, but, sweetheart, I also don't want you to be alone for the rest of your life. You have too much love inside of you to not share it with someone else."

"Then how do I protect myself?"

"The best way to do that is to focus on you, to do what makes you happy. You make the decisions that are best for you and your boys, whether they include another person or not. Anyone worthy of sharing your time will respect and appreciate that and find a way to fit into your life. They'll see you for the amazing person you. They'll value what you have to offer them." She sighs. "I watched you put aside so much of yourself for Garrett and your kids."

"Mom, that was because I had to."

"But did you? You gave up your job to stay home with your babies." I open my mouth to rebut her, but she shushes me. "And I'm not saying that was a bad thing. I stayed home with you and Rosalie, but I also went back to school once you and your sister were in school, and your father was settled in his job and we could afford daycare. All I'm saying is I watched a little more of you slip away over the years the longer you were with Garrett. You couldn't even use your degree and past experience to find another job when you finally did go back because no one could accommodate the hours you needed."

Again, I open my mouth to defend my choices, but she gently places her finger to my lips.

"I am so proud of what you've done with the opportunities you've been given, Bella. You have no idea. I'm proud of both my girls and everything they've done. I also watched you struggle to hold on during your divorce. But that's all behind you. It's time to focus on you. And any man worth my daughter's time is going to see that, too."

"And then what? What if this guy ends up being someone special … someone I want to be with? He's moving on in less than a year and a half, Mom. Where would that leave me?"

She gives me a gentle smile, brushing my hair behind my ear. "Oh, Bella, you have to decide what you want. Every relationship is about give and take. Your father and I have had our ups and downs over the years, but we've always leaned on each other. When he needed me, I was there for him. When I needed him, he was there for me. You gave all you had to your marriage, and in my opinion, Garrett did nothing but take. He never made sure you had what you needed, emotionally. In the end, he needed more from you than you had left to give. As far as this new man goes, if he's the kind of man I hope he is, he'll put you and your boys first. He'll make sure you have what you need. He'll give you what you need. But only you can decide if he's worth taking a chance on."

A/N: The dessert date went well, but she still has a lot of hesitation. And Renee and Rose might have missed their calling as interrogators. Lol. I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Your response for this story is blowing me away, y'all. I may not be able to reply to reviews like I'd like to, but please know I read and treasure each and every one.

***I'll be hosting a video chat room in my Facebook group this Sunday, March 6 at 5PM, EST. It's open to all members of the Sunshine Fics group, so if you're so inclined, come join us! We'll be talking about ASPtL, and I'll try to answer any questions some of you might have … as long as it doesn't give away too much. ;) Hope to see you there!

Round two voting of the TwiFicFandom Awards will open on Sunday, 3/6, so be on the watch for that! I'm not sure if I made it through to round two in any of the categories, but I'll be sure to spread the love and vote for my favorites regardless! I hope you will too. Remember, once the poll opens, you can vote once every 24 hours until it closes.

The best way to stay up to date is to hop over to my fic group on Facebook, Sunshine Fics, or find me on Twitter at CSunshine1220. I share exclusive teasers and do my best to keep you in the loop.

The words are still coming slowly, especially with the unwelcome excitement of the past few days, but with any luck, I'll "see" you soon!

Be kind.
Stay safe.
Stay well.

Lots of love
~Sunshine