Restoration: A Silver Fox Redemption Romance Audiobook

Giving in to their attraction could fracture their connection with their adult children. But staying apart might mean they miss their last chance at love…

Impulsive, eccentric, moody. Mick Brady has heard it all in his 60 years and brushed it all off just as quickly. When his adult son finally lets him know the impact of his choices, and Mick is crawling out of his skin with regret.

Celeste Sheffield has lost everything she thought was important, but in her late fifties, she’s figuring out what really matters: her family. Celeste’s son marries into the Brady crew, and she’s drawn into their boisterous, supportive orbit. She’s also distracted by her feelings for the handsome patriarch of the family, and she can’t seem to get him out of her head.

Mick and Celeste bond over their shared experiences with loneliness and their quest to mend fences with their families. They’ll just have to tamp down the spark smoldering beneath their friendship. Mick is no stranger to lust, after all. He can keep his pants zipped around Celeste, and prove to his kids he can be a responsible adult.

When Mick’s grandson has an accident on Mick's watch, he calls on the one person he knows won’t judge his babysitting skills. But does she have to look so good when she swoops in to save the day? Can Mick and Celeste avoid temptation as they focus on changing their lives? Or could their relationship be the thing that helps them stay the course?

Today is not turning out how I thought it would. I’m almost a half hour late to meet my own kid. I don’t tolerate lateness from other people—my schedule is all that helps me get through each day. I have no explanation for my own tardiness today. But here I am.

I climb out of the car, check for my phone and my wallet, squeeze the car keys to make sure I have them, and then lock up. I need these routines, or I’ll lock the keys in the car, drop my wallet in the sewer, or worse. 

And here’s my son, smiling at me like I haven’t just kept him waiting. Maybe I didn’t? I’m relieved that Cal takes charge of the moment, draping an arm around my shoulders and dropping into conversation.

“Been here long, kiddo?” I’m about to tack on an apology when I see him furrow his brow. 

“We’re early, Dad. But I knew you would be. No worries.” He shakes it off and heads inside, but I’m rattled. I got the time wrong. I start patting my pockets, looking for my notebook as Cal drags me inside the diner. I write everything in that notebook, except sometimes all my reminders to myself get in the way of the schedule for each day. Did I get it wrong? 

The diner smells like grease. Cal can always be relied upon to know where to find unhealthy food, but I decide not to ride him about his diet at the moment. 

I sink into a booth while he sets about getting us a basket of fries and a pair of deli sandwiches from the counter of a diner I didn’t realize was so close to our office. 

“I know you prefer juicing mid-day to this sort of thing,” he says, popping a fry in his mouth. “But you look like you need something greasy, Dad.”

Maybe he’s right. Maybe I need more protein. I swallow and reach for the fry, spinning it in my hands a few times before going ahead and eating it. I like the crunch on the outside, and decide to eat another one. “So why the late lunch invite, son? I thought you’re deep into that fire detection project with Orla.”

He nods, chewing and swallowing. “Today I wanted to talk about something personal. You sure you don’t want to talk about you first? You seem pretty…off.”

“I need a minute to gather my thoughts,” I tell him, tentatively reaching for the sandwich and realizing he’s right. “You go on ahead and talk.” The food is helping to settle me down. I’m ready to listen.

Cal takes a breath. “Well,” he says. “It’s Logan.”

“I like her,” I tell him, putting a fry inside the sandwich and taking a bite, enjoying the mix of textures. Cal’s been living with his lady for a few years now and she’s been really good for him. She complements him, slows him down a little. The whole family is just waiting for them to inevitably announce I have another wedding to fund. I’ve got money set aside for it already.

“Well, I love her. I do. But…” He stares out the window for a few beats and for once, I don’t feel the urge to tell him to just spit out whatever is bothering him. “She’s really pressing me to get married.”

I purse my lips, considering. “Well, it’s been years, son. It’s a reasonable expectation that she’d want to lock that down.”

Cal belches into his hand and then looks me straight in the eye. “If I’m being honest, Dad, I’ve never had an example of a strong marriage in my life.”

I stare at him for a beat. “I’ll concede that point halfway,” I tell him. “Your uncle and Helen were solid. They were a huge part of your life.”

He rolls his eyes. “Okay, sure, but…come on. I was a kid when Aunt Helen passed. And look at me, Dad. I’m impulsive and reckless just like my old man. I just…”

He drifts off and now I do grow impatient with him. “Out with it, kiddo. Come on.”

“I just worry I’ll be like you if we get married. That I’ll…stray.”

His words hit me hard, perhaps harder than they would otherwise since I’m already tender about mixing up our meeting time today. Something isn’t right. “Cal,” I start, and then I swallow another bite of sandwich, but it feels like sand in my mouth. “Cal, I know I messed up with your mother.”

He raises an eyebrow. 

I nod. “You know I live with that regret every day, the way I behaved in my marriage…marriages. Hey, between you and me, Zack’s mom doesn’t really count.”

I mean it as a joke, but it falls flat and he looks upset. “This is exactly what I’m talking about, Dad.” Shit. Why do I always blurt these things out? 

“Cal,” I continue. “I know we’ve talked about this. You’re not like me. Not in that way. Son, you’re thoughtful and kind and so present with Logan. Hell, anyone in the room can tell you think she hung the moon.” I reach for his hand and give him a squeeze. “You’re already more patient with her, and make more time for her than I did with either of my wives.”

I watch him relax, watch some tension slip from him that he’s obviously been clinging to. I watch his relief as I assure him he’s nothing like me. He takes a swig of his water and eats another fry. “I appreciate you saying that, Dad.”

“Of course, son.” 

He can’t bear the thought of being like me. My lifetime of bad choices, impulsive wrong steps.

We don’t say much more as we finish our snack and he heads back to the office soon after. I decide to stick around a bit, just staring out the window. Our conversation sticks with me, hard. What sort of model did I show my kids? My son just pretty much told me I ruined his life.

I sigh and wipe up the ring of water my glass left on the table. I shake my hand, trying to free the wet napkin from my palm. I don’t want to make excuses for how I’ve behaved, but these mistakes cling to me like the soggy recycled paper. I can’t change what I’ve done. 

When I do finally walk back to Beltane, I don’t even stand in the lobby to give thanks for the business my brother and I were able to create. I don’t look around at the building we own and remember our beginnings sitting on milk crates above the machine shop on Smallman Street. Instead, I think of Logan, a woman I already consider my daughter-in-law, and how she’s missing out on the wedding I know she dreams of because my own son doesn’t want to end up like his old man.