Page 167 of Family Affair

“Money won’t replace a father,” Coco pointed out gently.

“I don’t know about that. If you asked me, I would have taken the money and never looked back.”

“You don’t really mean it, Ross.”

“I really do. But it isn’t the point. My point is, Sheffield Investments was everything for Alex. Our father never let him grow the company into what it could have been, but Alex tried. Goddammit, he tried. His kids deserve to own a piece of his life’s work. That’s all they will ever have of him.”

Alex’s trial had concluded last month, and he was now serving life in prison. The gunshot wound to the thigh he had suffered at Cade’s hand wasn’t serious enough to sway or even postpone the judicial outcome, but Jeff Anderson, as his lawyer, felt optimistic that if Alex behaved, they could successfully appeal twenty-five years from now.

Upon hearing his final verdict, Coco’s mother had quipped, with her usual deadpan humor, that the Sheffield brothers were going to overwhelm the already overpopulated prison system. “Even the prison time is a family affair with them.”

The unmistakable sound of a truck engine reached Coco’s ears. Distant at first, it grew in intensity, coming closer, until it abruptly ended when the driver cut the engine. The others, distracted by the TV and Ross’s running commentary to the show, didn’t hear it.

Coco was on her feet without realizing she was doing it.

“Honey, what? Is he here?” Lucy got up from the chair.

Stella and Ross remained seated, but Ross cut out the TV.

Moving without feeling her legs under her, Coco threw the door open. And there he was, hand raised to knock.

“And were you going to ask who’s there?”

She shook her head, unable to speak.

Tears simply poured out. One second she was standing at the threshold looking at his stoic face with dark eyes, and the next her eyes were flooded with tears. No warning, and no in-between.

“Christ, Coco.” In a half-step, he reached her, enveloping her in a full-body hug. “Don’t cry. Please, don’t cry. It’s over,” his voice went rough. He kissed the crown of her head and laid his bristly cheek against her hair.

She couldn't have heeded his advice even if she were in mortal danger. All she could do was cling to him and cry silent tears as tension and the stress of the last months finally left her, leaving behind a buoying lightness and hope. So much hope.

A pronounced hush emanated from the living room.

“I thought it was going to be a joyous occasion.” Trust Ross to break the emotional silence with an inane comment. “We made you a sign and baked a cake.”

“A sign?” His voice vibrated over the top of Coco’s head as he spoke. She was finally able to get a grip and raise her head to look at him.

“Yes, a welcome home sign.” She wiped her face the best she could. His shirtfront was now spotty from her tears. “To, you know, welcome you home.”

One winged brow arched. “From jail?”

“From wherever. We were waiting for you. Welcome home.”

His beautiful sherry eyes softened.

“Okay, man, if you’re fixing to cry, wait till I’m outta here.” Ross shot a glance at Stella. “Told you, the sign was a bad idea.”

“Hush, Ross!” Stella reprimanded him sternly. “For one blessed second, would you stay quiet?”

Cade looked at Coco before shifting his gaze to the sign propped on the mantel. The already deep color of his eyes became liquid from emotion.

“I love the sign.” And then he smiled, lighting up the room. One arm wrapped around her shoulders, he walked in, ushering her along. “Glad to be home.”

They all started talking, and laughing, and sharing plans. Ross silenced his phone, reluctant to leave for his meeting. Stella took off her heels, like a knight setting aside his armor, at peace with the Sheffields for the moment. Everyone had something to tell, except for Coco. Coco simplywas, leaning against Cade’s hard body, taking in his heat and absorbing that unique essense of his unbreakable spirit that guided him and grounded everyone around him. The tactile sensations were ten times more powerful than her dreams. A hundred times. A thousand.

“What are you going to do now, Cade?” Stella asked, ever conscious of boring pragmatic matters like income.

Cade looked at Coco, and she gave him a small nod, approving his sharing of the plans they’d forged during several short jail visits she’d had with him.