Page 64 of Just My Ex

“That bed in there? Heaven.” I roll my shoulders, am reminded of my injury and wince, then narrow my eyes in the same concern. “How about you? Is the sofa bed working out?”

“It’s great. Beats the bunks in the Army.”

“The Army beds, sure, but what about the Ostlins?”

“Most of the time, the conditions are nice. But I’d rather be here, with you and Navie, sleeping on a couch than with them anywhere in the world.”

I don’t know how to respond to that, so I don’t. “Tell me more about Bern.”

He shifts in his seat at the table. “Evangeline reached the mandatory retirement age for diplomats last year. She wants to move to Bern, but being away from the rest of the family’s home base in Austria has the family feeling nervous. They want someone there with her full time.”

“I see. Sounds like a pretty sweet gig.”

His lips twitch, the crease in his forehead deepening. “It’s not. Not exactly. And I’m … working on some things. But I can’t—”

“I know. You can’t say.” I lightly touch his forearm, just above where the phoenix’s feathers flare. His skin is warm to the touch, and I feel it to my core. “I understand.”

He’s stock still—we both are—like if we move the spell would be broken. “I want to take you there. Or anywhere on assignment. It would be fun … if there wasn’t so much to be worried about.”

“I could help you catch the bad guys, and you could match my socks for me.”

“The socks!” He shakes his head. “I don’t get it.”

I hold out my hands, and a laugh bubbles out of me. “We are not going there. And what about you? The crumbs, Henry. It’s like a trail. Like Hansel and Gretel were here.” I stand and walk over to the counter. “See? There’s a little pile here. And there.”

He gives up a soulful laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling. My heart squeezes, too. “But leaving a trail can be useful, Quinn. The mismatched socks? Not so much.”

“Of course that’s useful. Adds more intrigue and makes me harder to identify. ‘She was wearing black socks. Or were they red striped? Who knows?’” I do jazz hands in front of my face. “And then I’m able to escape.”

At this, Henry doubles over and slaps a hand on the table. He’s laughing so hard; he’s gasping for air. I can’t help but laugh, too. His eyes even grow watery.

“You’re crying?” I ask.

“Why is Daddy crying?” Navie says, not looking up from the blocks she’s building.

“Tears of joy, Navie,” I tell her. “Daddy’s fine.”

He plants the heels of his hands below his eyes and presses hard, then drops them. “You’re the only person who can get me laughing like that.”

He stands from the table and grabs my hand, pulling me into the hallway and out of sight of our daughter. He’s still got his goofy smile, the giddy one that’s been so elusive these past few years.

He presses his hands against my hips and leans in to whisper. “You’re dancing with the devil, woman.” His breath hits my ear, causing a wave of goosebumps down both arms. “I could make your life miserable right now,” he whispers, pressing cautiously into the flesh of my hips, taunting me.

I know he means by tickling me. He did once when we were dating and what he got was a right hook to the face.

I raise my chin. “And I could break your nose.”

“You tried once, and it didn’t work.” He presses a kiss to my collarbone. A mild curse leaves his lips as he presses them against my skin again, his tone of voice holding a surprise.

On reflex, my head drops back.

I blink several times, trying to get my brain back online. “I gave you a bloody nose.” I can manage a few words, which is quite the feat.Good job, me.

“It was nothing.” Now his hands are trailing the small of my back. And it’s more than missing him, missing what we used to have. This isn’t a longing for the past.

It’s all about now—it’s raw. The only thing that makes sense.

But he rears back, lifting his hands in surrender, his gaze taking me in.

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