She laughed, said something to Josie, and came to his side, grinning adoringly up at him. He hugged her against him with the arm Kennedy hadn’t claimed and spoke into her ear. “How could I have missed you when you were just across the yard?” He couldn’t believe how easily the words came, and leaned in for a kiss.

Kennedy hollered, “Daddy, is Diesel allowed to kiss another girl if I’m his girlfriend?” making everyone crack up.

Truman chuckled. “Only if it’s Tracey, princess.”

“I’ll be your boyfriend, Kennedy, and I won’t kiss another girl,” Hail offered, inciting awws from the girls and Attaboy from Jed.

“Okay!” Kennedy let go of Diesel’s hand. “I’ll always love you, Diesel, but you can love only Tracey now.”

Christ, this kid. Had she read his mind? “Thanks, Ken.”

“I love Booful! I kiss her.” Lincoln had a wicked crush on Roni and had called her Booful—because Quincy called her beautiful, and he’d been too young to pronounce it—ever since he’d met her. He leaned toward Roni, lips puckered, his russet hair falling into his eyes as Roni kissed him.

“Little man, first you steal my name for her, and now you steal my kisses?” Quincy teased.

“I share her kisses with you,” Lincoln said. “I love you, too!”

It was cuteness overload around these kids, and Tracey was dreamy-eyed over them.

“How about we sing ‘Happy Birthday’ and stop talking about kissing?” Biggs suggested, and all the kids cheered.

They sang “Happy Birthday,” and Kennedy and Lincoln made wishes and blew out the candles. Everyone clapped and cheered. Diesel watched their friends passing out plates of cake, and his mind traveled back to his younger years, when his mother was still alive, remembering birthday parties with Tiny’s family, and suddenly he didn’t feel like such an outsider anymore. Tracey snuggled against his side and went up on her toes to kiss him, and he was hit with another revelation. Red was right. He’d lost a piece of himself when he’d lost his mother, but with Tracey, he’d found more than just that missing piece.

He’d found true happiness.

Tracey grabbed a plate with a slice of cake on it and offered him a forkful. “Want some?”

His mother’s voice sang through his mind. We need a little elfin magic, Dezzie. What d’ya say?

“I want a hell of a lot more than some.” I want forever.

Chapter Sixteen