Later, in our bedroom, after Miranda and I tucked the girls in—in Caroline's room, as they opted to stay together—I stood just inside the door and studied Miranda as she removed her clothes with jerky movements. She didn't seem to notice my immobility at first, but when she had discarded her skirt and was unbuttoning her blouse, she suddenly stopped and stared at me.

"Andrea? Do you need help? Your hand." She motioned awkwardly at my bandage.

"Yes. Probably," I said.

Frowning, she tossed the blouse on a chair and came up to me. "Are you in pain?"

"A little, but the pills help." I had taken my night dose after the dinner that Miranda had arranged from Pastis. I had only managed the starter dish, but it was something, at least.

"Here." She had helped me into the tracksuit and now she removed it. "Do you wish to have a bath or a shower…?"

"I think I just want to go to bed. With you." My voice was not reliable, which made me resort to a whisper. "If that's all right? I mean, the Book?"

"I glanced it over while we ate, as you saw. On my phone." She grimaced. "Hardly the best method, but tonight I had other priorities. You. My Girls."

"And getting your posse ready." I tried to smile, but it wasn't much to smile about. "Are you going to tell me more than you told the girls? Or am I to be kept in the dark when I took the brunt of his methods today?" I regretted my harsh tone as soon as the words were out. "I'm sorry, Mir—"

"Shh. You're right. You did take the brunt of something that has nothing to do with you. And no, I'm not going to treat you like a child, if that's what you're asking. I'm going to gather all the information my, hm, posse, brings me tomorrow, and then share it with you. I will also bring in Nigel, plus the chief of security at Elias-Clarke, and, if we agree -the police."

I gaped. "The police?"

"Perhaps. We'll discuss this tomorrow, darling. Right now, you are barely able to stand. Let me finish helping you."

While she talked, Miranda had removed the last of my clothes and helped me into one of my tattered t-shirts. "I do admit, I love you in this deplorable garment," she murmured as she watched me go into the bathroom. I peed and then brushed my teeth, only having enough energy to do the bare minimum. When I returned, she had pulled down the duvet for us and I slipped into bed and settled close to the center, hoping she would too. I watched her remove the last of her clothes and then put on another of my t-shirts, this one was a little less full of holes.

"I love you in my t-shirt," I murmured.

"Hold that thought," Miranda said and disappeared into the bathroom. "I'll just be a minute."

I hugged the duvet against me while I waited. I couldn't relax and knew I wouldn't feel entirely okay until she was back in the room, in the bed.

A knock on the door made me jump. I sat up. "Yes? Come in."

The door opened a crack and I saw curly red hair fall through it before a pale, freckled face peered inside. "Andy?"

"Come in." I waved at the girl who stood with a blanket in her arms. I squinted. "Caroline? Is Cassidy there too?"

"Yeah." Cassidy entered behind her sister. "We can't sleep. Caro's upset and I'm mad." Her eyes were narrow and her lips a fine line, while Caroline's eyes were swollen and her lips trembled.

"Hey, get in here." I scooted back to leave space in the middle. "You brought your sherpa blankets. That's great." I waved them over and as soon as I did, they darted over to the bed, and crawled up into the center of it, laying down on top of the duvet. "You can stay here with us. This bed is big enough to hold an entire soccer team."

Pale smiles ghosted over the girls' faces, which was more a sign of relief to be invited to stay, than my lame joke. "Thanks." Caroline turned into me, and I pulled her onto my good shoulder. I kept my bandage hand on my hip to keep it out of the way.

I heard Miranda open the bathroom door and saw the girls peer over the edge of their blankets at her. Miranda walked over to the dresser and switched off the lamp there, and then she took two more steps toward the bed before she saw her children and came to a full stop.

"Girls?" She blinked.

"Andy said we could," Cassidy said firmly.

"I did. They couldn't sleep." I hoped this wasn't one of those things that was never done in the Priestly household. If that was the case, it was going to have to change, in circumstances like this. These children were so independent normally, for them to even ask to sleep with their parents, was significant.

"I see." Miranda walked over to her side of the bed and slipped in under the duvet. "Good thing you brought your blankets. You used to be terrible duvet thieves when you were younger." She kissed Cassidy's forehead and then seemed a little taken aback when the girl snuggled in closer to her mother.

As the girls appeared to melt into us and the bed, Miranda looked at me over their heads, and I could see how tears welled up, making them shine like sapphires. She mouthed, "Thank you," and it reminded me of another time, in what felt like another life, when she'd shown appreciation from a very personal point of view when I had distracted Irv and saved her major embarrassment. This time, I supposed she was glad I was there for the girls.

"They needed us," I whispered.

"Yes. And you proved you are just what they need." Miranda spoke nearly inaudibly. "In many ways, they lost their father today. But they also gained you. I can't tell you how important this is to them—and me."

My eyes burned, but I would be damned if I was going to cry any more today. "I love them. I love you." Carefully moving my injured hand, I blew her a kiss.

"Love you too, Andy," Caroline said, sounding half asleep.

"Same." Cassidy flicked her fingers in the air and then wrapped her arm around Miranda.

I stared at Miranda and saw her smile broadly despite her tears. I pressed my lips to Caroline's head and then closed my eyes. I was exhausted, but I also knew that even if this had turned out to be one of the worst days in my life, I was also happier in this moment than I'd ever been.

###

I was alone in the bed when I woke up the next morning. I had no idea what time it was as my cell phone lay forgotten on the ground floor. I turned my head toward the window and saw daylight filter through the blinds. So, a lot later than usual. Had Miranda gone to work without me? Or was she still at the house? I listened intently but couldn't hear any voices.

Looking over at Miranda's side of the bed, I noticed that the girls' blankets were gone, and that there was something, a piece of paper, on Miranda's pillow. I sat up and reached for it. I recognized Miranda's strong handwriting.

Andrea,

Sleep in. I'm in the study. Working from home. Girls decided on school. Roy takes care of them. I love you.

M.

Pressing the note to my chest, which I didn't feel sappy about at all as it was my very first real note from Miranda, I slipped out of bed. I tucked the note into my nightstand and then tiptoed into the bathroom. I would have preferred a shower but drew a bath as that was easier with one hand. As it turned out, a warm bath was nice, and I sighed contentedly and made sure I kept my hand on the edge of the tub when I laid back. I hummed and asked the Bose system to play some soft jazz.

I thought back to how I had woken up a few times when a sharp little elbow had burrowed into my ribs, or curly hair tickled my face. I had spent some time regarding the girls and Miranda as they slept. To imagine I was now a true member of the Priestly family was both surreal and natural. The girls had not once acted jealous or as if I was intruding, which would not have been strange at all after Miranda's latest divorce. They genuinely liked me for me, and also, they appeared to think I was good for their mother—and them.

Yet another knock on a door made me snap my eyes open.

"Andrea? May I come in?" Miranda asked.

"Sure. Absolutely." I was too comfortable to move.

Miranda opened the door and stood there, and be still my heart, she was dressed in blue jeans and a white cotton shirt. I gawked at her. This was a completely new Miranda. I had never seen her in jeans—ever. Her right hand was on her hip in a familiar way, as she regarded me under raised eyebrows. "Do you realize you engaged the entire speaker system throughout the house?"

I hadn't realized that. "I wasn't aware that was possible. Sorry. Did I disturb you?" I smiled.

"Not at all." Miranda walked over to the tub and sank onto her knees with the grace I'd come to associate with her. "You look so much better today." She studied my face closely and then leaned in to kiss me. She had probably just meant to give me a brief peck on the lips, but I had missed those other kisses and caught her with my good hand around her neck and held her in place as I ran my tongue along her lower lip.

Gasping, Miranda parted her lips, and I seized the moment and slipped my tongue into her mouth. Perhaps she had missed our kisses too, as she immediately caressed my tongue with hers.

"Mm." I was glad to notice that the arousal that stirred so easily between us, was still very much the same. When I felt her hand around my left breast, I arched and felt the air cause my nipples to harden even further.

Miranda shifted, moving back a little, and reached for a washcloth. "Allow me to assist you, darling," she said, her expression far too innocent.

"Sure?" I eyed her movements as she lathered the washcloth with some soap. Her soap. Her scent. I clenched my thighs and began to tremble.

"Let's start with your back. Sit up."

I did as, well, practically ordered, and pulled my knees up and then hugged them with my left hand as I held my bandaged one up in the air, away from the water.

Miranda ran the washcloth in circles on my back until she dipped it into the tub, and then rinsed off the soap. "There. You can lay back." She lathered the washcloth again and carefully washed my right arm, rinsed it, and then repeated the procedure with my left.

When she began washing my chest and paid an even longer time on each of my breasts, I couldn't remain quiet. I had made a valiant effort to pretend this was just about cleanliness, but that failed brilliantly when she let go of the cloth and started using her hands instead.

When my nipples were nearly raw from her caresses, I was whimpering and had to spread my legs or I would orgasm just from rubbing my thighs together. "Oh, damn…" I bit my lower lip.

"Stop biting your lip that hard. You'll bruise it. I've told you this before." Miranda moved away from my breasts and for a horrible moment, I thought she had stopped altogether. When she pulled my right foot above the surface, I felt the washcloth again. She surprised me by kissing the sole of my foot when she had rinsed off the soap and then moved on to the other.

Then the washcloth was somehow lost again when she began moving her hands up my legs. I was shaking so hard now, I thought water was going to splash over the edge of the tub. Miranda hummed as she made an entire production of washing my legs with her hands, slowly and thoroughly. When she reached my folds, I knew she would find me beyond ready. Her fingers drummed lightly as they followed my labia up to my pubic hair, and then down again, all the way to my ass.

I couldn't take my eyes off her, as it was a rare thing to study her when she was touching me so slowly. Her eyes were half closed as she let a single finger create circles below my clit. When she noticed my rapt attention, she smiled slowly and moved closer without breaking contact with my core.

"I can tell you like this." She studied me too now. "I have noticed that you particularly like it when I do this." She slipped her finger further down and caressed the edges of my opening.

She was right. It was a sensitive area and I wanted her to push her fingers inside and take me. I already knew it wasn't going to happen like that. She was on some sort of mission and I was eager to just let her keep going.

"And then there's this sweet little thing." Miranda moved her fingers up and stopped just below my clit. "Very, very sensitive. I have to be careful, or you'll come too fast. I want you to come when you just can't stand not to anymore—not before." She circled my clit and stroked on top of its hood, which was still almost too much.

"Kiss me," I said.

"I can do that." She kissed me, soft, open-mouth kisses that she chose not to deepen.

I growled. "Miranda."

"Mm?" She pulled back and her eyes were the bluest I had seen them in a while. "Are you getting impatient?"

"I need you to take me. Or something. Something more!" I was barely coherent. I pulled my knees up, but that nearly sent me under the water completely, and Miranda caught me just in time.

"Hey, don't drown. The water's getting cold anyway. Come. Let me help you out." Miranda pulled gently and helped me stand. "And don't worry. I'm not done with you."

"Thank God," I muttered as she wrapped a large towel around me. I expected her to lead me to our bed, but she walked me backward toward the vanity. She turned me around to face the large mirror. I saw my disheveled hair and pale skin above the towel. And I saw Miranda who was quickly removing her damp clothes. She let them fall to the floor and then tugged the towel away.

"Now look at us," she said huskily as she greedily studied me in the mirror. "Spread your legs for me."

I did as she asked, and I could tell that my eyes were huge and trying to take it all in.

"Lean forward against your elbows. Just mind your hand." Miranda pressed slightly against my back until I was nearly at a ninety-degree angle. I could still see everything—and then I felt her enter me with decisive fingers. She filled me and then pressed herself against my ass.

I cried out and met her eyes in the mirror. She was blushing, and where her eyes had been so very blue just before, they were now a dark navy.

Miranda began to roll her hips against me, pushing her fingers deeper with each thrust. "Do you like this?" she whispered hotly, and now it was her biting her lower lip. "Is this good, darling?"

"Yes…yes…" I moaned and met her body with mine, and I knew I wouldn't last long. "I'm going to come."

"Then come, Andrea." She increased her pace, and the way she pulled her lips back in a feral smile, was the last thing I saw before my eyes closed of their own volition. Tremors and convulsions rolled through me and made me whimper and then cry out again.

Miranda slowed her movements but kept gentle caresses going against my slick folds until I pushed off the vanity and turned into her. She held me close, and I kissed her neck, trying to remember to not leave any marks on her perfect skin.

I found my equilibrium after a little while, faster than I should have, perhaps because she rocked me so sweetly and didn't rush me. I still could feel her reverberate against me, and her staccato breaths gave her arousal away.

I pushed a hand between us and cupped her. She pulled back to look at me, and her lips were trembling. I rested the arm I couldn't use against her back. "I'm going to make you come, Miranda. Anyway, you want."

She tilted her head and then shifted her gaze and looked at the mirror. When she returned her focus to me, she nudged me gently aside. She stepped around me and turned her back to me. "I know you will be so very gentle with me, Andrea," she said huskily.

I only stared at her for a few moments. I knew better than to ask her if she was sure. I wrapped my arm around her and aligned my naked body with hers. "If you need to stop—"

"—I'll let you know." She then made me lose my breath completely by bending at the hips and resting on her arms, mimicking my previous position perfectly. "So, have your way with me, then."

I caressed her hips and then her ass with my good hand. When I ran my fingers along her folds, she spread her legs. I met her eyes in the mirror and she was studying me through narrow slits. I spread the wetness around and she pressed her fingertips to her lips, whimpering mutedly.

"You can be as loud as you like," I said. "It's just us here."

"Andrea…" She arched, and I slipped a finger inside her. I knew I reached deeper into her like this, and I was careful to not enter all the way. Instead, I distracted her with my thumb, massaging her other orifice, just very lightly.

"Oh, God!" Miranda jerked, but her hips began a quick, rolling motion, and I followed her every move. When I deemed she was ready, I added another finger, and she dropped her head onto her hands and bucked against me. I moved in closer and pressed my hips against her.

"Yes, oh, yes, Andrea. Like that. Take me." She was sobbing against her hands now, and I knew she was getting close. Only moments later, my fingers were pulled further in and then squeezed hard in one pulsation within Miranda after another.

She cried out once and then whimpered every time she exhaled. I held onto her until she stilled. I pulled my fingers out but kept cupping her. I had come to realize we both found it jarring to lose the connection too fast.

I helped her stand and then found myself locked into a firm embrace. I held her close and inhaled her mixture of scents. "I love you, Miranda." I was still trying to fathom how much trust she showed in me.

"I did it mostly for me, to be honest," Miranda said against my shoulder. "I dislike having things I fear standing in my way when it comes to you."

"And now?" I pressed my lips to her temple.

"Guess it had to be you all along," Miranda said and I had to smile at the tone of annoyance that crept into her voice.

"Do I take that like you think we could have been together a long time ago if you had just realized this earlier?" I chuckled.

"You think you're so smart." She pinched me lightly. "But, yes, the thought occurred to me."

"I'm just so grateful it happened at all," I said, serious now. "I love you—so very much."

Miranda kissed me tenderly. "And I love you. More than I'll be able to put into words, I fear."

I glanced at the mirror where I saw the reflection of the two of us. It was as if standing in Miranda's arms, and watching us sort of from a distance, settled something inside me. The feeling of Miranda's love being something almost surreal and too fantastic to be true, melted away. I saw two women, who fit better together than either of us ever would have guessed. It was as if I let go of the last of my vision of the Miranda that everyone else saw, and truly let in the Miranda that was ready to give herself to me in a way she would never do with anyone else.

"Miranda," I said, "the good thing about us truly loving each other is that you said all you have to say already. I know you love me. I feel it every day."

Miranda met my gaze again in the mirror. She smiled. "Only you, Andrea. Only you."

As it turned out, I ended up in the shower after all. While Miranda washed my hair and then rinsed us off, I knew I probably looked like a fool—but I couldn't stop smiling. Not even when I knew it was time to face the day—and the shadow of James Powell—did I stop smiling.

Continued in part 28