“As soon as I get my coat—and something else.” Megan had picked up a bottle of the most expensive wine sold at Shop Mart, which wasn’t saying much, but it was the best she could do on short notice. Conner helped her into her coat and took her arm as they made their way down the icy sidewalk to his Jeep.

“I like your family,” he said. “Your mother’s artwork is amazing.”

“She’s done well with it. Her painting is what keeps her going.”

Conner didn’t answer at first. Megan imagined that he was thinking about her mother’s disabling illness and the challenges of raising a son with Down syndrome. “You’re lucky to have a family,” he said. “My parents split up when I was a teenager. They both went off, married other people, and had more kids. I just sort of fell through the cracks. I get a few Christmas cards from them. That’s about it.”

“I’m sorry. No family is perfect, but I’m grateful for the one I have.” Megan let Conner help her into the Jeep and waited while he went around the vehicle and climbed into the driver’s seat.

“My partners are my family now,” he said. “I can’t wait to have you meet them—and have them meet you.”

By the time they pulled up to the neat brick bungalow in the nicer part of town, Conner had briefed her on the people she’d be meeting. As they went up the walk, Megan scrolled through the names in her head, trying to remember who did what and who was with whom. Her stomach was fluttering. She would just have to wing it.

The door was opened by a tall, stunning redhead. Maggie the ex-mayor, engaged to Travis the ex-cop. So far, so good.

“Come in! I’m so glad to meet you, Megan.” Clad in jeans and a green blouse that matched her eyes, she stepped aside to usher Megan and Conner inside. “Oh, thanks!” she said as Megan handed her the wine. “The guys will be drinking beer, but I promise you, we women will love this.”

Two of the handsomest men Megan had ever seen were standing by the fireplace. The dark-haired George Clooney type would be Rush, the vet. The other, more of a Jude Law look-alike, would be Travis. They greeted her with friendly smiles.

“And here’s Tracy,” Conner said as a slim, blond woman walked out of the kitchen. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

As Tracy walked toward her, smiling, Megan stifled a gasp. She knew this woman. And what was worse, Tracy knew about her alter ego Lacy. One slip and the situation could get awkward.

Conner was oblivious to her discomfort. “Tracy,” he said, “this is my new friend, Megan. She—”