Page 154 of Daddy P.I. 3.0

Max joins Myles in the cockpit. I listen to the low murmur of their voices as we climb back into the night sky, although I don’t hear any knock-knock jokes. I tip my head back against the seat and let their voices wash over me as I drift.

A few bumps as we land wake me but not for long. Max pulls me out of my chair and onto his sleeping bag pile. I’m nearly asleep again when Myles settles into the messy pile behind Max.

“Stay away from my ass,” Max mutters at him.

“Your arse is safe from me,” Myles retorts. “Might make use of that smart mouth in the morning, though.”

“Only if you want tooth-marks on your dick,” Max responds.

Myles chuckles. “Stop thinking about my dick.”

Myles grunts and I surmise Max has elbowed him. I roll away from the two idiots as they wrestle, pull a sleeping bag over me, and give myself over to my exhaustion.

We stay in New Jersey for a day to establish our alibi. Myles sleeps heavily. Max sets up his array of electronics, pinging and proxying and doing whatever he does to keep us safe. I’m able to check his app. Lucy’s fine but Cappa’s graphs are still flat, which tells me he hasn’t left Fleur’s bedside. I text Javier and Maude from a phone Max assures me is okay to use. They both respond to say they’re with him and are making sure he gets rest breaks and regular meals. Despite Fleur’s vitals continuing to rise, she still hasn’t woken.

As Myles sleeps into the afternoon, Max sets up a call with Cynnie and reads to her from a book on his phone. Since I’ve missed Storytime for two days, I get Max to conference Emmy in and listen to her and Livvy giggle together as Max reads.

The giggling wakes Myles. After he eats the last sandwich from the bag and rubs his face blearily for a while, he asks, “Ready to go home?”

“No encounter with a tree branch?” Max asks. “I’m still willing to take one for the team.”

“I think we’re good. No reason to think anyone saw us or reported the cars. Has F confirmed disposal?”

Max nods, handing Myles a phone. Myles thumbs through the messages. “Car in Maine’s been disposed of, too. No issues. I don’t know about you, gentlemen but I’m ready to go home.”

Max and I nod.

After a short flight to the private airport upstate where Myles keeps his plane, we pack everything into his waiting SUV. The three of us sit in the back with the privacy screen up between us and the driver. As we roll back toward the City, Myles says quietly, “I want your permission.”

“For what?” I ask.

“To be a daddy. I know I have a lot to learn. I know you doubt me. Just don’t poison anyone at the playgroup or Blunts against me. Particularly not Fleur and Cappa.”

“Neither of them are little,” I point out.

“I’m not convinced of that,” he responds. “Not after watching them with the other littles before ... what happened. I won’t push. I won’t do anything to undermine their recovery. But when they’re ready for a caregiver, I want it to be me.”

I don’t have to think about it too hard. Not after the past two days. “You have my permission. You’ll need a mentor. Maybe more than one. I know Bravo would be happy to mentor you.”

“I appreciate that but I want you to mentor me.”

That surprises me. “Why?”

“Because your dart hit first.”

I don’t have any response other than: “Okay.”

“Bravo can be backup,” Myles says. “I know you have a lot going on.”

I do. But this is something I’ll make time for.

The City’s bright lights and constant sounds welcome me back as we cross the bridge into Manhattan. I’ve got nothingagainst the quiet places of the world but they’re not home. Not like this City is.

When we arrive at my townhouse, there’s a crowd waiting at the door. Cynnie rushes down the stairs into Max’s arms. Emily and Bren stand in the doorway with Mac peering over their shoulders. Emily has Livvy in her arms and a smile as brilliant as Christmas morning on her face.

Before I head up the stairs to them, I pull Myles into a hug. He stiffens for a second before patting my back.

“If you have any nightmares, call me,” I say to him and Max, remembering how Max suffered for months after the deaths we caused and witnessed in the service.