Page 67 of Guarded from Treachery

“Of course dinner. Do you think I wouldn’t feed you?” Shoving the maudlin thoughts aside, I smile as I press my lips to her forehead. “I made—” Stopping, I amend, “Sarah helped me make it. We have sopas and elote and empanadas. Plus guacamole and chips. And churros for dessert.”

Isla jerks her head up, nearly smashing me in the chin. “Youmadeall that? It sounds delicious.”

“With Sarah’s help,” I remind her. With a laugh, I add, “If it was just me cooking, you’d be lucky to get a quesadilla.”

“That’s yummy too,” she retorts. “And I love your cooking.”

I appreciate the sentiment, but my cooking is adequate on the best days and sub-par the rest. But I choose not to mention it as I continue, “So we have dinner, and I thought afterwards…” Pausing for emphasis, I waggle my eyebrows. “We could binge the new season ofHell’s Kitchen.”

Romantic, it’s not. But Isla loves the show and Gordon Ramsay, so this is one part of the date I know she won’t mind. And I’m proven right when she brightens and says, “But I didn’t think the whole season was available yet. Only the first two—” She stops. “Of course. Computer magic, right?”

“Yup.” While most of my computer work is dedicated to investigating cases for Blade and Arrow, I really love the times when I can do something special for the people I care about. Sold out tickets to a game. A movie that’s not even in theaters yet. Or in Isla’s case, the unaired season of Hell’s Kitchen.

Before she can respond, I grab the two gift bags from the floor and hand them to her. “But before that, I got you some presents.”

“Presents? What for?”

“Because I wanted to. And you deserve them.”

“Oh, Matt.” Emotion darkens her gaze. “Thank you.”

My traitorous ears go hot. Nudging one of the bags towards her, I say, “Here. Open this one first.”

Isla looks down at the bag and trails her fingers along the intricately-tied bow. “This is so pretty, Matt.” She pauses, then glances at me with a knowing smile. “Did you look this up online? How to tie it like this?”

“Maybe,” I admit. “I wanted it to look nice for you.”

“Oh, Matt.” She kisses my cheek. “It does. It’s the prettiest gift I’ve ever received.”

“You haven’t even looked at it yet.”

Laughing, she replies, “I know.” Carefully pulling the tissue paper from the bag, she reaches inside and feels around for a second. Then she lifts out a folded square of silk fabric and holds it up to inspect it.

As she looks at the pale lavender kimono-style robe, she exclaims, “Matt! This is gorgeous! And it’s so soft.”

“I thought it would be comfortable to wear now, and as you get bigger,” I explain. “And when little Eagle comes, you can wear it while you’re feeding him.”

“Oh, it’s perfect.” Isla rubs the satiny fabric across her cheek. “I love it.” She kisses my cheek again. “I can’t wait to wear it.”

“Open this one next,” I urge her, tilting my chin towards the unopened bag. “This one… it’s a little different. But if you don’t like it?—”

“Of course I will. I love everything you give me.” A pause, and then more quietly, “I love everything you do for me.”

My heart stutters. Rolls over. Emotion swells in my chest.

Then Isla reaches into the second bag, and I hold my breath.

In the silent seconds that follow, my mind leaps to assume the worst. That the stuffed bear isn’t right for a baby, even though the website swore it was. That I’m giving it to Isla too soon—everything I read said wait until the second trimester before buying gifts, but what if she wants to wait? Or what if she thinks I’m being presumptuous, getting something for the baby when we’ve only just started dating?

And then.

Isla clutches the bear to her chest and turns to me with tears in her eyes.

Good tears, I hope?

With a hint of wonder in her voice, she asks, “Is this for the baby?”

“It is. I made sure I got one that’s safe for a newborn. And it’s made of all organic materials. It’s supposed to be the softest bear out there, and I just thought… well.” Heat floods my cheeks. “Maybe it’s too soon. But I just wanted to get the baby something, too.”

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