Page 79 of Desire Me
“Believe it.” Saint’s stare never wavered.
Nate hesitated, swallowed hard. The stiffness melted away. “I do. I get it. And I can respect your willingness to protect her.” He stuck out his hand. “Thank you.”
The two men shook, and then Nate turned to Rae, stared for another long moment, and scooped her into his arms.
Relief exploded inside her. “Oh my God, I missed you, Nate.” Rae clutched him hard to her, crying into his shoulder. She’d never thought she’d hug any of her cousins again, never thought the day would come when she could stand out in the open with them, safely, without fear. How long they stood there in the dark and cold, holding each other, both of them crying, she didn’t know. But when they managed to get themselves together, Saint was no longer beside them, and the lights inside the house were on.
Nate guided her with an arm around her back up the steps. “So…” His sigh was heavy, the anger from before gone. “What’s the killer dude’s name?”
She thought about objecting to the description, but Saint had killed before. Where once she would have wondered how she could be in love with such a man, now it didn’t bother her anymore. Not one bit. “Saint Ignatius Solorio,” she said proudly.
“Did his parents hate him?”
She punched Nate in the arm, and the two of them shared a shaky laugh. They crossed the porch together and walked inside.
Her home…
The place reached out and wrapped its arms around her the second she stepped in; that was the only way she knew to describe how it felt. A fire burned in the fireplace in the small front room, warming the air. Big, soft furniture in rich colors played against the soft yellow of the walls. Through a doorway directly across from the entry, she could see her yellow kitchen with the white cabinets and appliances. But even more than the colors and the furniture was the presence of her family—framed photographs graced so many surfaces. The faces of her parents, love shining out of their eyes on their wedding day. Her mom holding a baby bundled in a pink blanket. Her cousins as little boys, dancing in the ocean just as she remembered them. Laughing on a front porch swing with popsicles in hand. Birthdays, graduations, holidays. So many memories reflected back at her, some she remembered, but so many that she didn’t. Not yet.
But she would. She knew she would. She wanted every moment that had been stolen from her back. And then she wanted to make new memories with her family, with—
A sound from the kitchen had her turning. Saint walked through the doorway, a heavy tray held in one big hand. “Coffee?”
Tears filled her eyes again, but this time they weren’t from sorrow or from pain. Or from fear. These were tears of joy.
“I love you, Saint.”
His eyes went wide, and then he was hurrying to set the tray down and cross to her with just a few strides of his long legs. Strong arms gathered her close, squeezed her tight. “I love you too, mi amor,” he whispered into her hair. “Welcome home.”
Epilogue
The massive double staircase dominating the foyer of Deacon Walsh’s home was draped in holiday greenery. And lights; so many lights. The sight was dramatic, breathtaking when you first walked inside—and Saint was a hundred percent sure Elliot had taken no part in the decorating. His teammate might live here now with her fiancé and Deacon’s four-year-old daughter, Sydney, might finally be learning what it meant to love and live in complete honesty with a family, but she was no more a domestic diva than he was. Someone else had obviously prepared the house for this New Year’s Eve party.
“Saint!”
The excited little-girl voice carried over the dozens of milling conversations to reach his ears immediately after walking through the door. He couldn’t stop the grin that lit his face as Sydney Walsh threw her tiny body through the fray to reach him, pink dress flying, Katie Kitty clutched in her tiny hands.
“Sydney!” He scooped the child into the air, throwing her a bit before catching her in his arms and holding her secure against his chest. Her giggles sounded like champagne in his ears. “What have they been feeding you, girl? You’re gonna be taller than me if you keep growing this fast.”
“I don’t think so,” she said, laughing. “You’re a giant. Bigger than my daddy, and he’s big too.”
“Let’s not point that out to your dad, okay?” He leaned his forehead against hers, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial low. “He might get jealous of my height.”
Sydney’s impish grin revealed two more teeth missing. His heart ached at the evidence of her growing up. She hadn’t been in their life long, but already the little girl had stolen all their hearts.
“I missed you,” she confessed. “Where have you been?”
“I missed you too.” He gave her a squeeze before setting her back on her feet. “I’ve been out of town helping Rae, but I’ll find time to come by and let you paint my nails while I’m here, ’kay?” Sydney had started the tradition when his team was assigned to protect her from Elliot’s father a few months ago. With so many nieces, Saint had worn every color of the rainbow on his fingernails, but Sydney’s favorite was pink, and it delighted her every time he let her paint his nails.
Sydney looked to Rae, standing to one side, then back at him. Back to Rae. “Who are you? Are you Rae?”
Rae grinned. Squatting down, she offered her hand to Syd. “I am. It’s nice to meet you, Sydney. Saint has told me so much about you.”
Saint watched Sydney consider that, debating on taking the hand and allowing someone else into her small circle. She glanced at Saint, who gave her a wink, then back to Rae. Carefully accepted the handshake.
A shy little twirling of her dress, back and forth, one hand clutching her ragged stuffed animal close, revealed her nerves, but Sydney had been forced to learn to read people early, and Saint taking Rae’s hand seemed to put her at ease. Her gaze swept down Rae’s dress as his cariño stood up, and awe lit her green eyes. The formfitting, shimmering green sheath had been the reason they were late—the minute Saint had seen it hugging Rae’s curves, he’d had to take it off. Then he’d had to take her. An hour later they’d both been put back together and on their way to the New Year’s Eve party being hosted by Elliot and Deacon for both their team and Deacon’s friends from his former employer, Global First.
“I love your dress,” Sydney gushed. “It’s sparkly like mine. With seekwinses, see?” She pointed out the line of pink sequins along her collar that matched the green line gleaming at Rae’s hem. “My mommy doesn’t wear dresses. She says they’re not for her. But she wears sparkles, just for me, she says. Hers are pretty too.”
