ris York Shepard was as unhappy as a four-year-old could be. She stood in the middle of her backyard, with her arms crossed over her flat chest, her small foot tapping ominously in the grass, a scowl stretched across her adorable little lopsided face. Iris didn’t like it when the attention shifted too far from herself, and even her adoring grandparents had moved away to talk to Uncle Trev.

Bram spotted his daughter from the veranda and grinned. He had a fairly good idea what was coming. So did Georgie, who’d noticed Iris’s mutinous expression from the other side of the yard, where she was chasing their toddler son. “Do something,” she called out over the heads of their guests.

He thought about it. He could sweep Iris up in his arms and tickle her, or swing her upside down from her heels, which she loved, or even have a little talk with her—something he was getting surprisingly good at—but he didn’t. It was more fun to let events take their natural course.

Twenty-five of Bram and Georgie’s closest friends had been invited to their annual backyard anniversary party, this one marking five years since their beachfront wedding. So much had happened in those years. Tree House had been a modest hit with audiences and a monster hit with critics, which had led to half a dozen juicy acting roles for him. Then, with Rory’s backing, he’d produced his own screenplay. Audiences had loved it, and his career was set.

As for Georgie…She was still interpreting the world through her camera lens and doing a damned fine job of it. Each of her three documentaries was better than the last, and she was starting to pile up some major awards. But as much as they both loved their work, not even filmmaking gave them as much joy as their family.

Chaz began weaving her way through the crowd. As Bram took in her shiny dark bob, cherry red sundress, and silver sandals, he could barely remember the desperate girl he’d picked up outside that bar so many years ago. Even the angry young woman who used to rule his kitchen had mellowed. Not that Chaz had lost her sass—she and Georgie could still go at it—but they were all family now—he and Georgie and their kids; Chaz and Aaron; and, of course, Paul and Laura, who’d gotten married in this very backyard.

Their wedding had been Chaz’s first job after culinary school. Instead of working at a high-end restaurant as she’d always planned, she’d surprised them by deciding to open a catering business. “I like being in people’s homes” was how she’d explained it.

She stopped next to him. “Iris is getting ready to lose it. You’d better do something fast.”

“Or I could just stand here and watch her drive Georgie crazy.” He sampled a canapé and gestured toward the pool area, where Georgie’s former P.A. was engaged in an earnest discussion with April and Jack Patriot. “When are you going to put Lover Boy out of his misery and marry him?”

“After he’s made his second million.”

“I hate to break the news, but I think he’s already done that.” Aaron had started his own video game company and hit it big with a game called Force Alpha Zebra. With his toned physique, air of command, and surprising emergence as something of a male fashionista, he’d changed even more than Chaz. Bram grabbed another canapé. “It took the two of you long enough to figure out you were in love.”

“I had some growing up to do.” Her eyes softened as she gazed at Aaron. “I’ll marry him one of these days, but for now, I’m having too much fun keeping him on his toes.”

Paul finally spotted his unhappy granddaughter and broke away from his wife, but he was too late. Iris had already chosen her table, a wrought-iron one located in the exact center of the crowded backyard, and begun to climb on top.

“Iris!” Georgie tried to move, but a swing set and their wriggling son kept her trapped. “Iris! Get down.”

Iris pretended not to hear. Instead, she carefully stepped around someone’s discarded drink, threw her arms wide, and addressed the crowd in a commanding voice far too big to come from such a small body. “Listen to me, everybody! I’m going to sing!”

Aaron put his fingers to his lips and whistled. “You go, Iris!”

Skirting the crowd, Bram made his way to Georgie’s side and took their son from her just as Iris opened her tiny mouth and let the music rip. By the time she reached the first chorus of her vigorous and tuneful rendition of the opening number from Annie, neither Bram nor Georgie had the heart to pull her down.

“What are we going to do with her?” Georgie said on a sigh.

“I guess we’ll eventually have to hand her over to Grandma Laura.” He kissed his son’s sweaty head. “You know Laura and Paul are dying to see how Iris will audition.”

“We know how she’ll audition. She’ll be fabulous.”

“She really is good, isn’t she?”

“Not a bad note. She was born to perform. And we don’t need another child star in the family.”

Bram set their squirming toddler on the ground. “The good news is, she’ll never feel as though she has to perform to earn anyone’s love.”

“True. There’s more than enough love here to go around.”

They were too wrapped up in smiling at each other to notice their son plop down on his bottom and begin clapping in perfect rhythm to his sister’s song. Bram’s voice grew husky, the way it so frequently did when he came face-to-face with his blessings. “Who could have imagined a guy like me would end up with a family like this?”

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “Skip couldn’t have done any better.” And then she winced. “Oh, dear…Here comes the tap dance.”

“At least she’s keeping her clothes on.”

But he’d spoken too soon. A little floral sundress floated into the roses.

“She gets that from her mother,” he whispered. “I never knew a woman so eager to take off her clothes.”

“Not my fault. You’re very persuasive.”

“And you’re irresistible.”

Skip Scofield chose that moment to tap Bram on the shoulder. Who’d have imagined it? You’ve turned into a family man after all.

And what a family, Bram thought, gazing around him.

Iris bowed and moved on to her next number. His son rolled over in the grass. And his wife, his very own wife, rose on tiptoe and whispered in his ear. “This is the best reunion show ever.”

He couldn’t have agreed more.