Chapter Eighteen
Muted strains of salsa-infused Christmas music nudged Danny toward consciousness. He fought it, chasing a few extra minutes of sleep on Christmas morning. He rolled over in bed, expecting to curl up against his wife’s warm body, and fell face-first into her pillow instead. Grumbling, he tilted his face, peeked open one eye and gasped. Sitting up in bed, he let the sheet fall around his waist as he took in his remade bedroom. Little white lights were wound through garland and strung around the cabin, poinsettias lined both window ledges, a ball of mistletoe hung in the bathroom doorway, and laid out on the corner chaise were the emerald-green grown and sparkly heels Mel was supposed to have worn last night.
And his red-and-green bowtie.
When had any of this stuff arrived here and how had it all been strung up while he slept? He only knew one person who could summon all this on demand and move so quietly she wouldn’t wake him up in the process. Chuckling, he swung his legs off the side of the bed just as the first whiff of something cooking reached his nose. A year ago, he’d be running by now, sure Mel would burn the boat down, but through his and their friends’ combined efforts, Mel was up to college-cooking competency.
Wondering what she was up to, Danny shrugged into sweats and a faded Griswold Family Christmas tee and started for the door. He paused midway, spotting his rumpled tux pants on the floor. Kneeling, he scooped them up and withdrew Mel’s present from the pocket.
He spun the key ring around his index finger. He hadn’t been joking last night when he’d said he had a ring in his pocket for her. Only it wasn’t just the wedding rings he still owed her. Those were on the key ring too, at either end, hemming in five house keys, five options for their life, together. Work took them apart enough as it was; no more living apart on the days they snatched together and no more lying to their family.
Standing, he snagged a red ribbon out of the garland, tied it around the ring and pocketed the keys. Opening the door to the main cabin area, he wasn’t surprised to see Christmas had exploded out here too. More garland and lights, stockings hanging from the mantel, and in the far corner a decorated Christmas tree. And was that a present underneath?
“Did you sleep at all last night?” he asked.
She fumbled the spatula.
“Ha, I got you!” It was rare anyone, much less him, ever got the jump on her.
Mel glared over her shoulder. “You’re not supposed to be up yet!”
Grinning, he sidled over to her and slid a hand around her waist, resting it on her opposite hip. “And you’re not supposed to leave the bed and play Santa’s helper. How’d you do all this?”
She huffed and returned her attention to the skillet of peppers and eggs. “Called in a few favors.”
He nuzzled her temple. “Were you going to bring me breakfast in bed?”
“No.” She tried to flip one half of the skillet mixture, going for omelet, and wound up with a scramble instead. “You said you wanted to see me in the dress and heels. I was going to put them on, then call you in for a candlelit breakfast.” She jutted her chin toward the dining table—set with candles, red place mats and holiday china. And next to his usual chair, the polished wood case holding his and Aidan’s pocket watches. “You ruined the surprise now.”
He reached out, laying a hand over hers on the spatula and drawing her gaze. “One, I’m plenty surprised. Two, you can’t wear those heels with your feet cut up like they are.” She mumbled something about worse pain before, which he didn’t doubt but ignored for the sake of making his point. “And three, I like the jeans and sweater look on you just fine.”
Dipping his head, he captured her lips and kissed her until her body relaxed against his. “Now, stop abusing the eggs, chica, and let’s eat. I want to give you your present.”
“We could wait until later,” she said, sounding surprisingly nervous.
Danny stifled a smile as he loaded their plates. “We have some appointments to keep today.”
“Aidan’s debriefs? I thought we were pushing that off until tomorrow.”
“We are,” he said with a wink. “Different appointments.”
Her beautiful brow furrowed as he lit the candles and settled at the table beside her. “On Christmas Day?” she said. “We have to be at your parents’ place by six.”
He leaned over, kissing her protest quiet. “Plenty of time. Now eat.”
She dug into her eggs, but after only a few bites, she was mostly pushing food around on her plate. Why did the mention of gifts and appointments seem to make her so nervous? After everything they’d been through yesterday, what could possibly rattle her like this? Maybe, thinking his gift was a ring, she was worried about the fallout of telling his parents. But surely she didn’t want to go on in secret any longer, now that the cat was out of the bag to his brother. And hell, that wasn’t even all he had in his pocket. After all she’d gone through decorating his place, he hated making her uneasy. He could wait and give her the keys later, could cancel the five appointments he’d made for today. Those didn’t matter. After everything she’d done to save him and his family last night, she could have anything, everything, she wanted today.
“Hey,” he said softly, covering her hand. “We don’t have to do this now. We can wait.”
She set her fork down, gaze averted. “It’s not what you’re giving me that’s got me worried. It’s what I got you I’m nervous about.”
“Whatever for?” he asked, now on the confused side of the equation. “I’m sure whatever it is, I’ll love it.”
Crossing the room, she retrieved the shoebox-sized-gift from beneath the tree and set it in his lap. “I thought you—your family—should have this.” Her eyes skittered to the other wooden box on the table then back. “I wanted you to open it first, in case I overstepped. I was nervous already, and then after last night... Bad timing.”
He’d seen this woman face down bombs, mercs and international terrorists without breaking a sweat, but whatever was in this box had beads of perspiration dampening her forehead. He picked up the package—light, just a few items inside—and carefully unwrapped it, somehow understanding he should treat it with reverence. He folded back the final flap of paper, revealing the lid of the white cardboard box, and his fingers shook. Printed on the lid was the intricate blue-and-gray shield of the Garda Síochána.
He’d seen the symbol on some of his dad’s old files—contracts they’d had with the government before fleeing. Because the IRA had attacked his family. Bad timing was right. Granted, Sonja’s hijacking last night hadn’t been about the IRA at all, but it’d raised that specter, that awful time in his family’s lives. And here was a seemingly innocuous box raising it once more.
Mel ran a hand down his arm, repeating his words of earlier. “We don’t have to do this now. We can wait.”
He shook his head. No, if he could face down a bomb, twice, and live to tell both tales, he could do this. With the love of his life by his side. He snagged her trailing hand, holding it tight, and, with the other, opened the lid.
He needed both hands, however, to peel back the bubble wrap and reveal what was inside. He pulled each item out and set them on the table.
Two transformer toys—Optimus Prime and Bumblebee—original editions, not the updated ones from the modern movies.
Baseball-like cards from the early ’80s but with European soccer players on them, and stickers from the 1982 World Cup in Spain.
A white leather ball, about the size of a tennis ball, with black stitching along the seams. A sliotar, the ball used in the popular Gaelic game of hurling.
And finally, a silver pocket watch. Just like the ones his father had given him and Aidan, like the ones in the box on the other side of him. The third one that belonged in the empty spot, inscribed with his oldest brother’s initials and lost in the explosion that had claimed Sean’s life.
The same pocket watch Danny had played with as a child was in the palm of his hand again, decades later.
While the watch wasn’t charred like the ends of the cards and stickers, and the feet of the Transformers, it was covered in a thin layer of soot. All of it was.
“I tried to clean them up, as best I could,” Mel said, voice hardly a whisper.
Danny’s gaze darted up, blurry. He blinked fast a few times but tears streaked down his face. “How did you get these?” he asked, voice cracking. “The Garda said they were lost.”
She cupped his cheek, brushing away the tears. “I hunt people for a living, Daniel. It wasn’t a stretch to hunt this down, for my family.”
“The unscheduled stop in Dublin?”
She nodded.
He turned his face into her palm, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “Melissa, I don’t know what to say.”
“Just tell me I didn’t overstep.”
“Not at all. This is the best step you could ever make.” He laughed, waterlogged, as he held her palm to his face and kissed it. “Thank you.” He let her hand go to put Sean’s pocket watch in the case, in the spot where it had always belonged, then placed the rest of his brother’s personal effects back in the other box. “I think even Mom will forgive us the elopement for this.”
Mel laughed then too, some of the nerves falling away. “Dios, I hope so.”
“I think this will help too.” He dug the key ring out of his pocket and held it out to her. “Merry Christmas, chica.”
She slid the key ring off his index finger, her gaze locked on the canary-yellow diamond on one end. “Danny, it’s gorgeous.”
“I caught you eyeing it last time we were getting Aidan’s and Jamie’s rings sized.”
“I paused for maybe five seconds.”
He shrugged, leaning back in his chair and crossing one leg over the other. “I noticed.”
She admired his ring next. A platinum band with a matching yellow diamond cabochon in the center. “Yours is gorgeous too.”
Finally, she got to the keys, flipping through them. “And these?”
“Those are our appointments today.”
“Appointments for what?” She lifted her gaze, eyes wide.
“Our future home.”
Her eyes widened impossibly farther, round as saucers. “Five of them?”
Laughing, he leaned forward and pecked her pursed lips. “We’ll pick one. But I bribed the Realtor to give me five options to tour today. No more living apart, Mel. We tell the family tonight and we grab hold of every day, every minute we can get together.”
She looked down at the keys in her hand, and his heartbeat skipped, worrying now if he’d overstepped. But a moment later she closed her fingers around the keys, clutching them tight, and threw her other arm around his neck, drawing him in for a deep kiss. “We are definitely blowing off all debriefs today.”
“I like the way you think, wife.”
“Not as much as I like you, husband.”
Grinning against her lips, he slid off his chair onto his knees and drew her onto the floor with him.
They were late for their first appointment.