Page 42 of Angel's Share

Aidan finished his call with Matt, then rotated against the balcony rail, watching the happy family inside decorate the Christmas tree.

Bev and Izzy stringing twinkling multicolor lights.

Angel, exaggerated mutiny on his face, holding a box of orange and black Giants ornaments in one hand, blue and gold Warriors ones in the other.

Jamie claiming innocence, genuinely surprised—Aidan had slipped the ornaments into the order—and no one buying it.

Especially when Maryanne, Izzy’s friend they’d invited over, held up a matching box of light blue and white Tar Heel baubles, an ode to Jamie’s alma matter that Aidan had likewise added to the order cart.

Jamie turned, searching for him, and met his gaze through the glass door. You set me up, he mouthed around a grin.

Aidan gave him a Who, me? shrug before turning back to the water. He rested his forearms on the rail, staring out at the ocean, the setting sun a beautiful sight like the one inside but not nearly so painful.

He wasn’t surprised when the balcony door slid open a few minutes later. His husband knew him better than anyone. Big warm hands spanned his lower back, then slid up and around his middle, lifting his arms off the rail so Jamie could embrace him from behind.

Aidan rested back against Jamie, giving him some of his weight, Jamie strong enough in every sense to take it. “You told me not to let you do this.”

Aidan closed his eyes and angled his face, nuzzling Jamie’s jaw. “Do what?”

“Push us away.”

A harsh chuckle escaped his lips as Aidan let his head fall back against Jamie’s shoulder.

“What?” Jamie said, squeezing his middle.

“It was you then. Don’t push you away. Now it’s us.” Fuck, how had so much changed in only five days? The case part Aidan could grasp, could throw himself into, but this part his mind and heart were having a hard time comprehending.

“What did Matt have to say?” Jamie asked, throwing him that rope, offering Aidan a chance to steady himself with case talk before they discussed the hard stuff.

“We’re all set. Matt, Rick, and Berat are already at the arena, coordinating with security and local, and I’ve got our tickets in my email.” Once they’d confirmed Martino’s club-level seats had not been resold for the game tonight, they’d spent the day prepping tactical plans. Aidan and Jamie would be several sections over with a view, and Jamie would be tapped into the comms operation Rick would run for the rest of the tactical teams scattered about the arena and at the nearest exits. Their plan was to observe first—see if Martino met with anyone of interest—then take him discreetly into custody. The end of game crowd clearing out of the arena would be a workable opportunity, but Aidan hoped they would get the chance sooner, when less innocents were in the way.

Laughter behind them drew his gaze around Jamie’s shoulder. Izzy and Maryanne were playfully refereeing a standoff between the kids, Angel after the bowl of popcorn that Bev was using to create strings for the tree.

“Good idea to invite Maryanne over,” Jamie said.

“Izzy needed some company besides the kids.” He righted himself in Jamie’s arms, back to his front again. “And even if this is over tonight, I want to know they’re safe at her party, especially if we’re...” The words deserted him, caught behind a lump in his throat.

“If we’re back home.”

“Five days, Whiskey,” he said, shaking his head, still unable to wrap his mind around the current state of things.

Jamie held him tighter and pressed his lips to his temple. “Talk to me, Irish.”

The complete safety Aidan felt in his arms made the hard words—their ramifications—a little easier to say. “We have so much family already, but this feels...” He swallowed hard, forcing down that lump, then said the scary part out loud. “This feels like ours, Jamie.”

“It does.” Jamie’s smile curved against his cheek. “You Talleys really do like to pick up strays.”

He chuckled, remembering how Mel, Nic, and Cam had once called themselves that—strays. How Jamie had too. Then sobered at recalling what Marsh had said just the other day, about family falling into your lap sometimes. Except there was a critical difference in Aidan’s case; the truth he couldn’t assuage with Christmas trees, silly ornaments, or all the colcannon in the world.

“Can I, though,” he said, voice scratchy, “if I made them that way?”

“Oh, baby.”

“I know it was Tom’s and Gabe’s decisions,” he said as he turned in Jamie’s arms. “But I feel like I’m taking something that doesn’t belong to me.”

“One, you’re not taking anything.” He covered Aidan’s hands where they rested on his chest, over the tattoo where they were always drawn to. “We can only give if they want to take from us. And two, you had nothing to do with Bev’s situation. If not for Angel in her life, which brought you into her life, she might still be in that closet in Deidra White’s house.”

As if on cue, Bev’s “Victory!” sounded from inside, followed by cheers and laughter, and Angel’s “Cheater!”

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