Page 43 of Angel's Share

Aidan was both flying and sinking, both joyful and wretched. “We can’t take her from them, though.” She needed Angel and Izzy, and Angel and Izzy needed her, and there were people in San Francisco that needed him and Jamie, and he and Jamie needed them too. And that was even assuming Bev would want to stay with them, or with Izzy, after this was all over, let alone if social services would let her.

Jamie must have recognized the mental and emotional dizziness threatening to overwhelm him. He snaked an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close again. “We’ll work it out. Like we always do.”

“I want this, Jamie. If they’ll have us, I want them in our lives, including Bev.”

Jamie’s laughter surprised him into glancing up to the baby blues that were full of the love Aidan had come to depend on. “In all the years I’ve known you, Aidan Talley, you always get what you want.” One side of his smile hitched higher, into a smirk. “Even if at first you refuse to admit it’s what you actually want.”

Like Aidan had refused to admit he wanted Jamie, that he’d been falling for his new partner. “I admitted it.”

“Eventually,” Jamie added, before stealing his lips in a kiss that reminded Aidan of the kiss they’d shared on a balcony in Galveston. Jamie comforting him as fate had rushed up to meet Aidan when he’d least expected it.

The balcony door swooshed opened. “I need a tall person,” Bev interrupted. “Either of you will do.”

Aidan just laughed, his forehead falling against Jamie’s shoulder.

Fate.

Right in your lap, he mentally heard Marsh remark, smirk and all.

“What about both of us?” Jamie said to Bev as he carded his fingers through Aidan’s hair, centering him the way no one else could.

“That’ll work too.”

Righting his head, Aidan took a deep breath and clasped Jamie’s hand, ready to meet fate with his partner. “What’s the mission?” he asked Bev.

“Put this on the top of the tree.” She handed him a tree topper that was a red, white, and blue star with the C hugging LA logo in the middle.

Aidan laughed out loud. “Where did you find this?”

“Convenience store where Ward took us to get the popcorn and string. It’s the team he plays for, right? The guy whose place we’re borrowing?”

“It is,” Jamie said, fighting his own laughter.

“Well, he should have at least one ornament for his team on the tree.” She shoved the star at Jamie. “It can keep the peace among the others.”

Jamie finally lost the battle, laughing so hard he was practically wheezing.

“What?” Bev said. “I pay zero attention to sports, so help me out here.”

“I don’t think anyone has ever referred to that team as peacekeepers.”

She threw her hands up. “I was just trying for a compromise team. We’re all gonna have to get behind one if this is ever gonna work.” She spun on her heel, heading back inside, leaving Aidan with one hand in Jamie’s and the other holding the last symbol of his future he would’ve ever imagined.

“Nic will fucking kill you,” Jamie snickered. “At least convince her to go with Sacto so he’s got someone to watch games with.”

“I’ll work on it,” Aidan said with a smile. Jamie started forward to follow Bev inside, but Aidan tugged him back. He waited for Jamie’s gaze before asking, “Do you want this too?” He was pretty sure he knew the answer, but he needed to be sure Jamie was on board with all this, because Jamie would always be his top priority too.

Jamie’s answering smile was almost as beautiful as the one from their wedding day. “The only thing I’ve ever wanted more is you, Irish.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

“View’s a bit different from up here,” Jamie said as he and Aidan took their seats at the end of a row around the bowl from Martino’s suite. They had a good view of their suspect’s intended location—and of the rink, which Jamie had only ever seen as a court before, from the sidelines most recently. The bigger, different picture wasn’t bad.

Beside him, Aidan cursed and adjusted the hat he wasn’t used to wearing. Jamie could count on one hand the number of times over the last eight years he’d seen his husband in a ballcap. But sitting as close as they were to Martino, Aidan’s red hair would be too noticeable. Ditto Jamie—all of him—so he’d also donned a hat and, God help him, the black and silver of the hometown team, hoping to blend in and avoid a cameraman spotting him and putting him on the scoreboard.

Aidan left his own hat alone and adjusted Jamie’s lower. “How much is it killing you to wear that gear?”

“Almost more than my Carolina heart can bear. I’d rather be in red tonight. What about you?”

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