Page 109 of Roaming Holiday

“What time is it?” I grumble, nowhere nearly as sexy as his morning voice.

“Eleven.”

I groan again. Late. For me, at least. I flip onto my back, smelling aftershave and noticing he’s dressed for the day. I rub the sleep from my eyes. “Where are you going?”

“A debrief and then a hearing.”

“A hearing?” I echo. “Should I be worried?”

At the end of the day, Wesley killed multiple people. A tiny smile pulls at his lips. “No. Will you be okay for a few hours?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” I reach out and brush my fingers over his chest, feeling the bandage beneath his shirt. “How bad does it hurt?”

He shrugs. “Not much.” He kisses me before getting to his feet. “It’s a good thing you woke up now. I already ordered you breakfast. Should be here any moment.”

I extend my body in a stretch, my arms above me. “French toast?”

“Of course.”

After Wesley leaves and I stuff my face with french toast, Dad knocks on my door. It’s relatively normal between us for the first time in what feels like months. We talk about our plans for moving from America to Maldana. And for a few minutes, we even talk about Mom and how I feel closer to her. Anger threatens to simmer underneath my skin, a reminder that it shouldn’t have taken almost twenty years to happen. But it’s manageable.

My phone dings with a text.

Wesley

How was breakfast?

It’s a simple question, but I still blush at the thoughtfulness.

Delicious. I might fall into a food coma.

Wesley

At least wait until I get back.

“Everything okay?” Dad asks.

“Oh, yeah,” I perk, setting my phone down. “Just Wesley checking in on me.”

He releases a long breath. “Your bodyguard, huh?” he says, leaning back on the sofa and pausing to find the words. “He’s a frightening man.”

“Not to me.”

“He’s a murderer, Nina,” he snaps, and I fall silent. The memory of blood pouring from Arlo’s open throat flashes across my mind. That was Wesley. The vision will haunt me forever, but I can’t bring myself to blame or hate him for it. It wouldn’t feel natural.

Dad softens, his tone almost pleading. “I… He killed those men.”

Stiff silence wedges between us. I shrink, wrapping my arms around my middle. “What do you want me to say, Dad? That I love him in spite of that? Because I do, and I’m not convincing you to understand my reasoning.”

In other words, I’m tired of arguing with him.

“He killed for me,” I add, my voice quiet. “Wouldn’t you want your daughter to be in love with someone who would kill to keep her safe?”

Dad might not have pictured me falling in love with a former assassin, but it’s a good thing it’s not up to him. He lifts his hands in surrender before touching my wrist.

“I’m grateful for him,” he admits. “You’re right; he saved my little girl. I just worry, Nina. All I ever do is worry about you and your sister. I want you girls to have everything you ever wished for.”

I shrug, fighting the prick behind my eyes. “All I want is a dad who’s… who’s there—one who loves me for being his daughter and not what I can do for him.”

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