Page 11 of Saving Their Forever

“What?” Dax, Rip, and I ask in tandem.

“I made Cara take some selfies of the three of us. She got a video too.” Pulling out her phone, she unlocks it and offers it to me.

Rip reaches over and plucks the device from my hand. “Grainy. But workable.”

“I sent it to my system when we were at the bar. Facial rec should already be working on it.” She stifles a yawn. “But Rip could start running it against the traffic cameras. See if the guy has been anywhere near the condo in the past few weeks. I haven’t seen him before today. At least not that I know of.”

“He looks…” I peer over Rip’s shoulder. “Afghan. Pakistani. Maybe Uzbek.”

“Fuck.” Dax stalks over to the window and presses his hands to the glass. Sunlight streams into the main room this time of day, and he can feel it. Maybe even see it—a little. “So why is he here? He better not have any fucking friends in town.”

“Wouldn’t that be worse?” Wren asks. “If he doesn’t have any reason to be here? Because then…he’s here for me. Or you.”

“There’s no fucking way he’s here for us.” I straighten my shoulders and run a hand over my bald head. “Because we don’t exist.”

“I do.” Dax turns back to us. “Second Sight is in my name. You and Rip are ghosts, but I’ve been out in the open this whole time. What if this asshole is related to the guys in Turkey.”

“He’s not. Trust me. Trust West and his…methods.” I cut my gaze to Rip. There’s no way I’m going to tell Dax how that op went down in front of him. He’s better now. But I worry every goddamn day that one bad memory will send him spiraling.

“For fuck’s sake. Will you stop looking at me like that?” Ripper pushes off the wall and stalks over to me. “You want me to take on more work for Hidden Agenda? I’m going to have to hear this shit. I can handle it, Ry. And if I can’t, that’s on me to let you know.”

“He’s right,” Dax says quietly. “You and Wren are going to have a kid any day now. Pritchard has so much work for Zephyr, he’ll be hiring soon. We need Rip. Unless you’ve figured out a way to clone Wren…”

My little bird barely manages to stifle her yawn. “Flippin’ flapjacks. That would be the best thing ever. I’d be able to sleep. Even with a newborn.”

“You’re exhausted.” I kneel next to the recliner and cup her cheek. “I’m putting you to bed.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” she says sharply, but leans into my touch like I’m the only thing keeping her upright. “I can make it to the bedroom on my own.”

She must be completely wiped out to agree with me. “I know you can, sweetheart.” Lowering my voice, I press a kiss to her temple. “Let me do this. Please.”

With a nod, she lets me scoop the dog off her lap and help her up. “Evianna, lunch tomorrow? Here?”

“Name the time.” Evianna links her fingers with Dax’s. “We’ll be here.”

* * *

In our bedroom, I pull back the blankets, then drop to one knee to help her off with her flipflops. “Purple. I like it.”

“Had to do something that didn’t scream, ‘Mom,’” she says. “If I weren’t worried about the chemicals, I’d dye my hair purple too.”

God, I wish I knew what to say to her. To promise neither of us will lose ourselves to being parents. That we’ll still be “Wren and Ry.” Not just “Mom and Dad.”

But it’s been my second—or third—biggest fear. Behind something happening to her or the baby, or our daughter taking one look at me and screaming her head off for days because she thinks I’m a monster.

Even if I did have the right words, though, now isn’t the time. She’s already curled around her body pillow, her eyelids drooping.

“I want to give the seventh floor to Dax and Evianna.”

“What?” She pushes up on an elbow, her eyes only slightly more open now. “Like…for them to move out here?”

“Not full time.” I glance back at the door, wishing I’d thought to bring this up before now. “Their lives are in Boston. Evianna’s mom, Beacon Hill Technologies… But they’re out here every four to six weeks. And every time, Dax has to manage the hotel, a car service, restaurants…”

“The Five Points remodeled,” she says. “Evianna told me today. Dax hates it. Nothing’s in the same place, half the housekeeping staff left, things keep getting moved in their room… It’ll be nice having them here. Close by. They can set things up however they want and it’ll always be the same. And they won’t need a car service on standby until midnight just so we can have dinner.”

I lean down and kiss her. If we had more time, I’d peel off her tunic and show her how much I need her. How much I need us.

“I love you, Wren. So fucking much. I hope you know that.”

---