Zach had been in touch with Raphael via a brief letter posted without a return address, telling him only that he was alive and that he would be in contact as soon as possible. He’d been right about a visit from the United States Military. It hadn’t been to me, but to Raphael. Since the apartment at the church wasn’t registered in my name, officially, I didn’t live there.

During their visit, they’d told Raphael that Zach’s final mission had failed, and that they believed him to be either a prisoner of a terrorist group or, if he were lucky, that he’d already been killed. I’d previously talked to Raphael about Zach’s visit, so he’d been prepared for the news.

We’d transferred funds to the account Zach had created under the alias Michael Beckham. It was more than he’d requested, as much as Raphael and I could give him. We both wished he’d let us help him, but after seeing him that day in New York City, I knew it was something he had to do himself. I just hoped he’d be safe doing it.

Over the last two years, as the vineyard slowly grew, the ash that blackened it was replaced by vibrant vines with leaves that sprouted as green as Lina’s eyes. Fat, juicy grapes ready to be picked now weighed down each branch. Since Sofia and Raphael’s second wedding ceremony, Raphael and I had also started working on the house—at least until I’d been sent to New York City. Lina and I moved into a separate part of the house.

Elena and Siena came home four weeks after they were born. To look at them now, no one would have ever guessed how small they were at birth.

“It’s almost creepy how much like you and Raphael they look,” Lina said one morning as she tucked a blanket over them. Sofia and Raphael had gone out for the day, their first time since Sofia had been put on bedrest months ago.

“What do you mean ‘creepy?’ They’re gorgeous,” I said with a wink.

She gave me a huge smile. “Well, they are that. I just hope they don’t get that Amado scruff on their jaws.” Lina rubbed the two-days of growth on my face. We stepped out into the hallway.

I pulled her in and rubbed my cheek across hers. “You love my scruff, admit it.”

“It’s so scratchy.”

I bit her earlobe softly, dragging it out. “I never hear you complain when I bury my face between your legs,” I teased as we walked out into the hallway. The sound of too many people in the house drifted upstairs.

“I can’t believe you were going to be a priest the way you talk,” she said, heading to the stairs.

But I grabbed hold of the back of her neck and turned her, leading her toward our bedroom.

“Damon, what are you doing? They’re waiting for us.”

“They’ll wait.” I pulled her inside and closed the door. “I haven’t been between your legs in so long, I forgot what you taste like.” Walking her backward toward the bed, I kissed her mouth as I unbuttoned her blouse and cupped one lace-clad breast, pinching the nipple.

“I thought you’d already made up for lost time.”

I loved her teasing. I pushed her onto the bed and knelt on the floor, where I dragged her panties down and off before pushing her thighs apart and flipping her short skirt up.

“Not yet.” I pulled my shirt up over my head, my gaze riveted on her wet, open pussy, all pink and gleaming. I looked at her. She lay with her weight on her elbows, a smile playing on her lips as she watched me. “So my scruff is too scratchy?” I rubbed my chin over her clit, and she bit her lip. “I got the feeling you liked it. Soft and rough at once.” I licked the length of her, and she lifted herself closer to me.

“Fuck. I love your tongue on me.”

I drew back and rubbed my beard over her. She gripped my hair, tugging me closer, and I feasted, reaching to undo my jeans and push them down, rising to stand as I shoved them and my briefs off. I wanted her, all of her. I needed to be so much closer to her. Needed to be inside her.

Once I stood naked, I flipped her onto her belly and slapped her ass.

“Get up on all fours.”

She did, and I gripped my cock, watching her spread her knees wide and look back at me, watching me with that look in her eye, Lina the seductress. Erotic. Sensual. Always.

She lowered herself onto her forearms and wiggled her hips from side to side.

“Fuck, you drive me insane.” Letting go of my cock, I gripped her hips and drew her cheeks apart, dipped my head down, and licked her cunt, trailing my tongue up to her asshole, circling the tight ring, hearing Lina’s gasp for breath. I pushed my tongue inside her before straightening. I took hold of my cock again as I slipped my thumb into her ass. I wasn’t going to last long, not with her wiggling her ass around like she was. Not with her so fucking willing, so wet for me.

Guiding my cock to her pussy, I rubbed against her, covering myself in her juices as she moaned. I reached one hand to tweak her nipple before shifting it back to take her clit between my fingers.

Lina cried out then, collapsing on the bed. I hauled her hips up, driving into her harder, feeling her come, feeling her throb around me as she whimpered beneath me. I lay my full weight on top of her, kissing the side of her face as she tightened all her muscles and squeezed my cock until I blew inside her, emptying with a moan, stilling, holding her tight, so fucking tight. Because I was sure of one thing. I’d never get enough of her. Never get close enough to her. I wanted more. More. I wanted everything. Wanted all of her.

After showering, I went downstairs to join the workers as everyone prepared for the harvest, while Lina stayed inside with the babies. Having her for an aunt meant they were going to be very spoiled.

It was only after everyone had gone home after dinner and we’d put them to bed after one more feeding that we headed to the living room.

“I haven’t heard you play in a while,” I said, opening the fall of the piano and sitting down.

She slid naturally onto the bench beside me. “We won’t wake the babies?”

I shook my head and kissed her as she set her fingers on the keys, already playing a quiet piece.

“This is what you were playing the night I first walked into Club Carmen.”

She nodded, soft music filling the space.

“I knew it was you the moment I heard it,” I said, my tone quiet, my gaze moving from where her fingers danced over the keys, to her face, so concentrated, almost lost in it.

“How?”

She didn’t look at me.

“I heard it. And all I could think was that the music sounded like a heartbreak.”

At that she shifted her gaze to me.

“You heard that?”

“Yes.”

“I haven’t played this one in a long time.” She returned her attention to the piano.

“Did you compose it?”

She nodded.

“It’s beautiful.”

She played, and memory took me back to that night.

“Damon… Do you ever worry?”

“Worry?”

“About things. Your brother, for example. Zach, I mean.”

“Of course, but I’ve also learned to be aware of what’s in my control and what’s outside of it.”

“And he’s outside of it.”

“Yes.”

She nodded, but I knew that wasn’t all there was to her question. “What’s going on, Lina?”

She gave a quick, sideways glance but concentrated on the keys. It took her a long time to speak.

“I don’t want to mess this up.”

“You won’t.” I studied her face in profile, saw how her eyes had misted over. “Lina, you won’t.” When she didn’t stop playing, I twined my fingers with hers to make her stop and waited until she faced me. Silence descended around us, the only sound the night insects coming from the open window.

“There are only two things that would make me happier than I am right now,” I said. She waited for me to continue. “One is having Zach here with us. Having him safe and at home.” She nodded with a sad smile and almost pulled her hand out of mine. “And the second,” I said, stopping her. I slipped my hand into my pocket to retrieve the small box inside. Turning it to her, I opened the lid.

Lina’s eyes widened even more, and she blinked hard, as if unsure what she was seeing was real.

“What…”

“The second thing is this. You. Will you marry me, Lina?”