Powder room under those stairs, family room/lounge area off the kitchen, the mudroom/laundry room off the other end of the kitchen. New furnace, and a good storage area in the fully waterproofed, ready-to-finish basement.

A good house, he reminded himself, with a price well within his means.

He went up where the echoes carried the rushing feet, the voices of his children.

Eyes shining, Mariah raced to meet him. “Which would be my room, Daddy? Can I pick?”

“Well, it’s set up with what they call a Jack and Jill bath. This room.” With her hand clutching his, he led her into one of the four bedrooms. “And that bathroom opens to this room and the one on the other side. They’re about the same size, so—”

“I can’t share a bathroom like that with a boy! They smell!”

Her horrified face made Raylan want to gobble her up like a pink parfait.

“There’s another bedroom across the hall, but this one’s bigger so—”

He broke off as she ran off to see for herself.

“It has a bathroom for its ownself! Look, look! No boys allowed to use it! My own bathtub and everything! Can I have this room, please?”

Bradley raced back. “The playroom is huge! And I got dibs on the bedroom with a fireplace and the big bathroom.”

“No dibs there. That’s the master. You have to pay all the bills to get the master.”

“I can’t pay bills.”

“Which means you get one of these two rooms if we buy the house. With a pretty big bathroom of your own, since Mo’s looking at the room over there.”

Bradley wandered through, lips pursed, head nodding. “Okay, I guess. I want the one back there, ’cause it’s more away from her.”

Grinning, he turned, then the grin faded when he looked at his father. “You don’t like the house?”

“What? No—I mean, sure I like it.”

“Your face says you don’t.”

Mariah danced back in. “Can we paint my tub pink? What’s a matter?”

“Dad doesn’t like the house.”

“Why not? It’s nice. It smells good.”

They wanted it, he realized. They wanted this house, this fresh start. He just had to make it a home. To let go—all the way—and make a home.

“You, weak-minded beings as you are, have been taken in by my great restraint,” Raylan told them. “I wanted you to have your say in it, and not to use the vast power of my superior mind to influence your puny little brains.”

“Dad.” The stress fell away as Bradley let out a snort. “Come on!”

“Can we have it?” Mariah hugged his legs with her face turned up to his. “Can we paint the tub pink in my very own bathroom?”

“Yes, and no. You can get a pink shower curtain, pink towels, but no tub painting.”

“But Bradley can’t ever, ever poop in my bathroom.”

“I’ve got my own bathroom—bigger than yours—and you can’t poop there.”

They assailed each other with poop insults. Raylan decided they’d already started making a home.

With the deal struck, the paperwork and legal work underway, Raylan began counting down the days of pullouts and working in a corner, or the kitchen counter.

He had to start back-to-school shopping soon, which seemed impossible. But he was determined to put that nightmare off until the last possible moment.

What he did have, despite his current working conditions, was a solid new story line with a fascinating new character who would serve first as foe, always as foil, and eventually as friend to his Angel.

He could thank, and did, his mother and sister for helping keep the kids busy and entertained through the summer. And for keeping the kids overnight while he traveled up to his headquarters to round out that story, that character, with his partners.

He’d spent his single night in Jonah’s hot mess of a bachelor pad because he couldn’t bring himself, not yet, to stay with Bick and Pats in his old house.

But before he could go ahead with doing the real work on creating the novel, he had to clear it with the inspiration.

If she gave him a thumbs-down, he’d change up the physical appearance, but he didn’t want to. Everything worked. He had some hope because he remembered the girl who’d recognized Iron Man from the sketch on his bedroom wall.

Since he’d put it off long enough, and since the kids were hanging with Maya and Collin for the afternoon, he took his sketch pad, and the dog, to drive to the big house on the hill.

He’d always loved the house, the way it sat so sturdy and timeless with that wraparound porch, the wonderful old growth of trees at its back and side. Its gables adding just a touch of mystery.

“Jesus, Jasper, I’m an idiot. I can use it. Just goth it up some, and it’s Flame’s hideout. Darken the stone, bring the trees in closer, add a tower. Yeah, this would work.”

Sketching it in his head, he walked to the front door, used the big bronze knocker. He changed it from a star to a gargoyle. A snarling one.

When no one answered, he did as his sister had advised and walked around the house, adding details to his sketch as he circled to the lower-level patio doors.

Since they stood open, he started to knock on the jamb, then just stood, hand lifted. He actually felt his mouth drop open and couldn’t seem to close it again.

She stood in the center of the room, facing a mirrored wall. She wore black, tiny shorts, a sports bra that crisscrossed with thin straps in the back. Her hair she’d pulled up and away into a topknot that spilled curls.

And, standing on one bare foot, she lifted her left leg until it pointed at the ceiling and she stood in a single vertical line.

It shouldn’t have been anatomically possible.

Then she lowered the leg only to draw it up behind her, and, still balanced, grabbed her toe, flowed out the other arm as she leaned forward, and as she drew the leg up to a fluid arch.

By the time a few blood cells returned to his brain and he realized he’d entered Peeping Tom territory, he started to step back.

But she turned her head, just an inch, and saw him.

Rather than scream and call for her monster dog, she smiled, used her forward hand to gesture him in.

He eased through the opening a little. “Sorry. I was just … I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Nearly done. I just needed a good stretch.”

“Do you—” He broke off as Jasper caught a scent, shoved through the door, and raced to his love, who’d sprawled in front of the fireplace.

“Jasper, damn it. Sorry.”

“No problem.”

Especially since Jasper simply collapsed in front of Sadie, who ignored him.

“Just have to do the other side. Were you looking for Popi?”

“Um, no, actually.” He couldn’t look away. “How do you do that? How does anyone do that? Why don’t you have joints?”

“I have them. They’re well-oiled. Flexibility is essential to fitness.”

“That’s not flexible. Even Gumby can’t do that.”

“Ballet, DNA, gymnastics, practice. How’s your flexibility?”

“Not like that. But I’m from the planet Earth, which, obviously, you aren’t. Which brings me to—”