“If you wake him, you wear him, Kitty,” he joked in a whisper.

I laughed. If the roaring of the ocean and the booming voices of the men beside us didn’t wake Grant, nothing would. The kid slept like a champ.

“You’re fixin’ to have some pretty awkward lines with that thing,” I noted, devouring the bare skin of his chest and stomach with my eyes.

“You can always lay out naked with me and help them fade.” His lips brushed my ear.

A shiver slid down my spine.

“Jackson Montgomery, we have company!” I dropped my jaw and raised my eyebrows in mock indignation.

He laughed.

Leaning my head away from Grant, I cupped my hands around my mouth. “Fin, there’s cobbler!” It had become her favorite dessert this year. Last year it was apple pie, and who knew what she’d pick next summer?

Her eyes lit up, and she raced out of the waves, her hand still gripping Peyton’s.

“Can we get some?” Fin asked, looking up at me with an excited smile.

“Fine with me, but he’d better ask his mama.” I smoothed back an errant curl.

“Aunt Paisley, can Peyton have some cobbler?” Fin asked down the line, where Paisley stood with Jagger. “You want cobbler, right?” she asked Peyton like an afterthought.

“Mama, please?” he asked, jumping. That boy might have looked like Paisley, but he was all Jagger, constantly moving.

“It’s okay with me,” she answered.

“Yes!” the two exclaimed at the same time.

They took off at a run, kicking up sand.

A few years ago, I never would have thought I’d be raising my kids with Paisley’s, and sometimes the sheer reality of it, the happiness that flooded my heart when we were all together like this, was too much for words.

We wouldn’t all be together like this again for a while. Jagger had just gotten home, but Josh was headed out one last time in a couple of months—his last deployment before his six years was up and he’d be eligible to get out of the army. Grayson would be gone before Easter.

This was a rare, complete moment, and I knew none of us would take it for granted. We’d all learned that we couldn’t control the storms in our lives, but we weathered them better when we were together. Phone calls, Skype, texts, and visits—we always made time, and I had the feeling that we always would. Friendships like ours, forged in fire, were the kind that lasted.

Ember lifted Quinn from the carrier, then took off after the spitfire toddler when she made a dash for the waves, scooping her up and blowing kisses on her neck. Slowly, everyone but Jackson and I headed back to the barbecue, leaving us alone on our beach.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, stroking my side.