Mitch slowly shifted out from under Halina’s deliciously warm, soft body where she slept cradled between his legs, her cheek to his belly. When she laid her head on the bed without even fluttering her lashes, he paused to stare down at her. He stroked the hair away from her cheek and she licked her lips in sleep and sighed.
He was relieved she could at least find peace in sleep. It seemed to be the only time she was at peace. And with the vision she’d had—correction, the visions she’d been having for days, not to mention the months before she’d left him—it was no wonder. If Mitch had to watch Halina either enjoy other men or take a bullet to the head in visions he believed would eventually come true, he’d have gone insane by now.
But each moment of pure rightness with Halina, like this one, gave him the determination to hold on to the belief that they would make this work. They had to. He’d move heaven and earth to keep her, which was good, because he was anticipating that’s exactly what he’d have to do.
So he’d better damn well get started. Before she woke and that wicked determination of hers took over. Keeping her with him after that vision was going to be an arm wrestle.
Mitch reached down and pulled his phone from the pocket of his pants. He took a quick photo of Halina and pulled on the still-damp khakis, wondering where Alyssa would have put the clothes she’d had one of the guys pick up for him.
He opened the bedroom door quietly, watching Halina for any signs of waking, and almost tripped over the pile of neatly folded clothes in the hallway at his feet. He grinned. “Godsend, that girl.”
He’d realized this sometime around their fifth birthday. Alyssa had taken the battery out of his brand-new remote control airplane after he’d slammed it into their neighbor Jimmy’s head at the party. That’s when he knew God had made her his twin for some ulterior motive. Not until he’d reached his teens did he realize that motive had to do with keeping him alive, functioning, sane, and out of jail.
He glanced down the hall, but it was empty. The house still quiet, but not as cold as it had been earlier. He dressed in the bathroom, and thought he was prepared for the devastation when he turned the corner into the living room—after all, he’d lived through it. Barely. But the sight still hit him hard, and his jaw tightened as he stared at the disarray.
They’d done a decent job getting the room back in order, but dust glittering with glass slivers clung to every surface. Sheets of plywood blocked the serene view, reminding Mitch of the extremity of their situation. He glanced at the kitchen island as he passed and the bullet holes that could have so easily ended his life. Kat’s life. Mateo’s life. And his stomach iced over.
Mitch paused at the front door and glanced through the sidelight. Nelson stood on the porch leaning against a pillar. Mitch opened the door and Nelson glanced over his shoulder.
“Come in for second?” Mitch asked.
Nelson turned and entered the foyer. “What’s up?”
“Halina’s sleeping in the guest room. I’m going into the basement with everyone else. She’s been known to . . . slip away, if you know what I mean. And she’s pretty freaked at the moment.”
“Understandable,” Nelson said. “I’ll have Dillon move to her window and make sure we all watch for her.”
Mitch nodded. “Thanks. Do me a favor and take the keys out of all the cars, will you? She’s ex-DoD.”
One of Nelson’s brows rose. “Okay.”
Mitch locked the door behind Nelson and watched the other man jog toward the driveway where half a dozen cars were parked. He didn’t need to know she’d been a scientist at DoD, and Mitch wasn’t in the mood to explain all the details.
He opened the door to the lower stairway and was greeted by Kat’s giggles, the sound particularly sweet to his soul.
In the basement, the mood was subdued—all except for Kat. The kid was amazingly resilient.
“Look, Uncle Mitch,” she called as if this was just like any other day, “look what Dex can do.”
Everyone was still there, scattered across the space much as they’d been upstairs. Alyssa lay curled on her side, head on Teague’s thigh, eyes closed. Brady lay beside her, head at her breast, barely visible above a blanket. They’d never looked more tightly bonded—and all that after the worst incident of their lives.
Teague glanced up at Mitch’s arrival, then gazed back down at his wife and child, gently twirling a strand of Alyssa’s hair around his finger. The three of them were a picture of comfort, peace, fulfillment, purpose.
I need that.
After making love to Halina again, his want had turned into a fierce, overwhelming need that hit him so hard, it stunned him for a moment. So . . . foreign, yet, when he imagined the scenario with Halina, so . . . right. Still, seven years and a shattered heart later, still so . . . right.
He refocused on the others. Cash sat on the other side of the sofa, feet kicked up on the ottoman, sketching some crazy-ass formulas in a notepad. Jessica was curled into Quaid’s side in the middle section. Kai, Keira, and Luke sat around a table covered with paper and computers. At the center, the swearing jar overflowed with cash. On a side table, chips, vegetables, nuts, and dips covered the surface. Beneath, a red and white Igloo cooler surely contained half a dozen different drinks.
With the mess upstairs, this would be their living space for a while. Luckily, the bedrooms hadn’t been damaged, and half of the team had other places to sleep.
“Dance, Dexy,” Kat said, holding up some kind of treat in her hand. Dex eased up on his hind legs, following Kat as she popped around in a circle giggling at Dex’s accomplishment, then gave him the treat.
Mateo sat on the floor nearby, his cherub face compressed into a comically stoic expression, those deep brown eyes intensely concentrating on Dex. Mitch wandered toward him and crouched beside the boy, but spoke to Kat.
“Nice, Kat. What are you feeding him?”
“A treat.”
“Yeah, I got that.” Mitch looked at Teague.
“The guys brought in dogs and set up a wider perimeter,” Teague said. “One of them had treats he carries in his truck for his nonworking dog. Don’t worry, Kat’s not peeling grapes for him. Yet.”
Alyssa laughed softly. She looked more tired than usual and concern nagged at Mitch, but he knew better than to say anything. “I sure hope Halina will let Dex sleep in Kat’s bed.”
“Amen,” Teague muttered, then glanced at Mitch. “Is Halina sleeping?”
Quaid tipped his head and looked over his shoulder at Mitch. He didn’t need to ask the question Mitch knew he wanted the answer to. Knew everyone wanted an answer to.
“For God’s sake,” Kai said, dropping a stack of paper and standing. “Just ask him, Quaid. It’s not like we gave you and Jessica any privacy.”
“And I remember,” Luke muttered with a glance at Keira, “he wasn’t particularly sensitive when it came to us, either.”
Kai sauntered to the snack table and tossed a handful of cashews into his mouth. “So how’d it go, golden boy? Did you manage to keep from scrambling her brain with too many—”
“Kai Joseph Ryder.” Alyssa’s stern reprimand cut him off.
Kai stopped chewing and froze with his hand in the cashews. After half a second, he looked up and over at Alyssa. “Ransom started it.”
She let out a breath and dropped her head back to Teague’s thigh. “God, you’re exhausting.” She rolled her head toward Teague. “He’s like a third child.”
Mitch burst out laughing, along with everyone else. Lord, he felt good. Loose and relaxed and energetic and hopeful. And it wasn’t just because of the sex. It was because of the who and the how. And—he hoped—because of the meaning behind the act.