Page 117 of His Greatest Treasure

“If you say so.”

“I could bench-press you in my sleep,” he boasts.

“You’re talking out of your ass.”

“I think I actually prefer when you don’t speak. The days when you’d just grunt and mumble were some of the best of my life.”

I adjust the placement of the glass-topped coffee table and grunt in reply before leaving him waiting for an answer. The shop smells like lemon cleaner, and while it isn’t completely ready for any type of grand opening, it’s close.

I left the last few tasks for Avery to complete. This is her space, and all the finishing touches and decisions should be hers to make.

The two armchairs and coffee table tucked in the corner and in front of a wall of shelving units were the only pieces of furniture outside of the several sets of shelves that I took a chance onfilling the space with. They’re the same pale shade of pink as the Swedish flowers she named the place after, and when Mom tested the comfortability of them at the shop this morning, she was quick to tell me to buy them before someone else did.

Now that they’re here, I know I made the right decision.

Most of my squad has cleared out now, leaving just Adams and me waiting for Hart to finish setting up Nova’s corner of the shop.

“What do you think, Oliver?” she asks, noticing I’m no longer bickering with Adams. “Think Nova will like it?”

“She will.”

The round table Hart grabbed from the store earlier has been put together and painted with tiny frogs, a variation of Swedish flowers that I researched last night, ballet slippers, and scattered multicoloured sprinkles. It’s not much—not yet—but it will be. For now, it’s a piece of home brought here for Nova.

“You really love Avery’s little girl, huh?”

It’s Hart who asks the question, but Adams stares at me too, waiting for an answer.

“Yes.” It doesn’t feel sufficient enough.

Adams sits on one of the pink chairs and leans forward with his elbows on his knees. “Is there any update on the father?”

“Not yet.”

They don’t know much about it, and for now, I want to keep it that way. Avery doesn’t need them knowing all the gritty details.

“My dad was a piece of shit. Sometimes they aren’t worth a place in our lives,” Hart says.

“It’ll be Avery’s choice and then Nova’s. Whatever they choose, I’ll be there for them.”

She smiles up at me from the floor. “You’re a good man.”

“It feels like the bare minimum.”

“That’s because you’re a stand-up guy. Grumpy as fuck sometimes, but you’re good shit. Honest and honourable. Sometimes, even the bare minimum of qualities can be hard to find because everyone wants to bean asshole,” Adams says.

“I don’t want an award for being a decent person. I just want them.”

“Swoon,” Hart mumbles.

“Don’t fawn over him, Hart. He’s already too arrogant for his own good,” he scolds her.

I cock a brow. “I thought I was a stand-up guy? Which is it?”

He stands and drags his big body toward me. With a deadpan expression, he tugs me into a hug.

“You’ve done good by them. I can’t wait to spend more time getting to know your family, Lieutenant.”

A surprising swell of emotion comes after his words register, and I clear my throat before returning the hug and slapping his back.

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