Karl lifted his glass. “Assuming I have forgotten no one . . . To us—the family we’re born into, the family we make, and the family we collect along the way. And happy birthday to Mercy!”

Irina lit the candles and put the cake in front of Mercy, who looked a little alarmed. “I can’t blow that much.”

To which the entire family, except for poor Abigail and the younger grandkids, died laughing.

“Oh my God,” Farrah gasped, fanning herself. “Merciful heavens, Mercy.”

Too late, Mercy realized what she’d said, and she closed her eyes and muttered a Russian curse that made Irina start laughing again.

“Blow out your candles, Mercy. I can see my children have been adding to your vocabulary.”

“Nope,” Mercy said cheerfully. “I learned that one from Karl.”

“Hey,” Karl protested, then shrugged. “Yeah, it was me.”

Mercy gripped Rafe’s hand, then blew out the candles with one huge breath.

Rafe leaned in to whisper in her ear, “You’re really good at blowing things. Out.” He laughed when she elbowed him harder. “I said out.”

“So who wants cake?” Mercy asked. “Everyone but Rafe? Okay.”

Rafe had to kiss her for that, because he was so damn happy that he needed to let some of it out or he’d bust. “Can I have cake now?” he asked when she broke the kiss to breathe.

“No,” she said, even as she cut him a slice. “Now leave me to cut this cake in peace.”

Quitting while he was ahead, Rafe grabbed his plate and his cane and moved to the back of the room where he could watch Mercy . . . glow.

He wasn’t very surprised, though, when Tom Hunter joined him. The man had been trying to ask him something all afternoon, but one of them kept getting pulled into another conversation.

“What’s up?” Rafe asked. “Is Liza okay?”

Tom shrugged. “You’d have to ask her.”

Ouch. Okay. Rafe backed away from that little bomb. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

Tom looked relieved. “I was wondering if you’d considered going into the private sector.”

Rafe frowned up at him, confused. “Like . . . what?”

“Like private investigating.”

“Sure. Of course I have. But I’ve been advised not to make any huge career shifts for a little while longer.” It had been his therapist’s suggestion and it had felt right to Rafe. He’d regained more flexibility and balance, and thankfully the pain was less, but he had a long way to go, both physically and mentally. “Why?”

“Because I have need of a PI.”

Rafe gave Tom his full attention. “Is it Eden?”

Tom huffed a mirthless laugh. “What else might it be?”

Excitement sent a shiver down Rafe’s spine. “Did you find them?”

“Not yet, but we’re close. If you’re interested in hearing more, we can meet tomorrow. Somewhere quiet.”

“And Mercy?”

“Don’t mention it to her for now. I don’t expect you’ll keep it quiet forever, but for now keep it to yourself. Let her enjoy her birthday.”