Unexpected Gifts
Faith looked down at the box and her stomach twisted. The note she’d just read made it plain exactly what the contents of the box contained.
Her sister’s ashes.
What the fuck was she supposed to do with those?
Her sister, the one who’d played dolls with her when they were young and gave her makeup advice when they were older. The one who’d ruined countless lives and tried to drag Faith down while she’d done it.
Her sister, the murderer.
The door came open and she started, the sound harsh in the previous quiet of the space.
“Hey, we’re back,” a familiar voice said. “The boys have done their duty. I’ve got some gorgeous steaks for the two of us and some mashed- up vegetables for my poor baby boy. That’s right, son. You have to have some teeth before you can eat a cow. Hey, baby, are you sure we shouldn’t at least let him gnaw on a steak? Maybe that would bring his choppers in.”
Her husband. Tennessee Smith strode in, carrying a sack of groceries in one hand and the baby carrier in the other. Her ex-CIA god of a man looked perfectly domesticated with a welcoming smile on his face, his eyes lit with anticipation over the dinner she would cook and spending that time as a family. He’d had little of that in his younger days, and then it had been just him and his adoptive family, and half the time one or more of them had been on assignment. These days Ten Smith tried his damnedest to never miss a family supper.
And then he didn’t look domesticated. His eyes took in the box on the table and they went cold.
“Tell me that isn’t what I think it is.”
She stepped in front of it. She wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like her sister had needed protection in life. She certainly didn’t need it in death. “It’s nothing. Why don’t you put those steaks in the fridge? I’ll start the marinade.”
Ten set the baby down and laid the grocery bag on the table. Grant was sleeping, his little baby body covered in a blanket. He looked so much like his father.
“Let me see the letter, Faith.”
Why was she hesitating? She should pass the whole thing over to Ten and he would dump the ashes into a garbage can or maybe pass them off to Theo Taggart so he could piss in them. He deserved that after what Hope had done to Theo. Hope had taken Theo’s life and his memories and trashed them all.
Why couldn’t she stop thinking about Hope as a small child? Why was she thinking about the time her big sister had helped her learn how to ride a bike and then cleaned the scrape on her knee when she’d fallen off. She could see it vividly. She’d cried and Hope had helped her hop in the house and to the first floor bathroom. Hope had poured alcohol over the wound and then she’d leaned over and blown on it to take away the sting.
Like momma did… she’d said, her eyes solemn because they both missed their mother.
Could a sociopath miss someone?
He stepped in and she had to make a choice. She could give him what he wanted or he would likely simply lift her up and move her out of the way. When Ten decided on a path, he rarely veered from it, and she wasn’t about to choose her dead, criminal mastermind sister over her loving husband.
His eyes moved over the note and he cursed under his breath before setting it down again. “Damn it. I told Ezra I didn’t want this to happen.”
It was a good opening because she wasn’t exactly sure what had happened. “Why did they send that to me?”
Her voice was even, as though she wasn’t quaking on the inside. As though a million insecurities weren’t rising up and threatening to take over. It had come out as a mere query. A curiosity, nothing more.
Ten took a deep breath, seeming to settle himself, and when he looked back up at her, his eyes were warm again. He took her shoulders in his hands and stared down at her. “The Agency kept her body for autopsy. It’s something they do in all criminal investigations, but they were particularly interested in your sister. In her brain.”
She nodded. “Because she was a known sociopath. I’ve heard some doctors have been studying the brains of criminals with acknowledged mental illnesses. They’re trying to determine if there was an injury to the brain or if it was something that went wrong with the formation. Nature versus nurture. It’s the ultimate question when it comes to the criminally insane.”
That’s what her sister had been. Insane. Oh, she’d been brilliant, but there had been a hollow place inside her that Faith wasn’t sure a doctor could see with any amount of testing. She wasn’t sure that what had been missing in Hope hadn’t been a necessary piece of her soul.
Or was it all about DNA? Had Hope been born bad?
She glanced down at her sleeping son. What would his future hold?
“But once they’re done with the testing, they’re required to deal with the body,” Ten continued. “I told Ezra to take care of it, but something must have gone wrong. Technically they’re supposed to do what they can to return the body to the next of kin.”
That made sense. “Me. I’m her only living relative.”
Because their father was gone. He’d been as bad as Hope. Her father had their mother murdered so she wouldn’t give up his secrets.
She was an orphan and that was all right because her family hadn’t been the Brady Bunch.
“Faith, talk to me.”
She shook her head, going on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his mouth. “There’s nothing to talk about. I was surprised, but that’s the extent of it. Could you do something with it? I don’t want it in my house.”
She brushed past him and picked up the groceries.
He turned, his eyes grave. “I think we should talk about it, baby.”
“And I think I have two hungry men to feed,” she replied. She wasn’t going to think about this. Her sister had died long ago and receiving her ashes meant less than nothing. It was merely unexpected, and that had thrown her. She’d accepted her sister’s death long before and it wasn’t coming back to haunt her now. “Seriously, it’s fine, Ten. I had a long day at the clinic and I’m tired. That’s all. Let’s have some food and maybe you can open that amazing bourbon Ian sent over and then we can watch some TV or something.”
Ten stared at her but made no move to stop her. “That sounds good, baby. I’ll think about the ‘or something.’ Let me know if I can help you in the kitchen.”
Such a good husband. Ten was always there for her. “I will.”
She strode into their pretty kitchen and started dinner, trying to put that box far from her mind.
Faith hummed as she rocked Grant. He’d fallen asleep probably ten minutes before, but she kept rocking. There was something deeply peaceful about this time of night when the house was quiet and her son was cuddled up in her arms. After she got up and put Grant in his crib, she would join Ten in bed and they would read for a while and inevitably, he would turn to her and kiss her long and slow. Before she knew it he would be inside her and she wouldn’t be able to hold back. She would sleep like a baby in her husband’s arms.
Unless she lay awake all night worried about the question he’d asked her a few nights before.
How long should we wait? I know you need some time, but I want Grant and his siblings to be close in age. He’s eight months now. You think another six months or so? I don’t know. You’re the doc here. What’s safe for you?
He’d been so eager and she’d felt like she’d had the breath knocked out of her body. A sibling for Grant. A brother or a sister. A sibling who might love and take care of him, or who might go totally psycho and try to murder his best friend’s lover.
That had seriously been her first thought.
What kind of a mother was she?
Had her own mother looked down at her firstborn baby girl with the same tenderness, never once knowing how wrong it would all go?
Would Hope have turned out different if their mom had lived? Had been able to show her all the love their father hadn’t? Would her mother have pushed Hope to be better, to understand that love and compassion were just as important as her big, beautiful brain?
The door creaked open quietly and a big masculine body was silhouetted against the light coming from the hall.
Would she ever get used to how beautiful that man was?
“You need any help getting him down?” Ten asked, his Southern accent slow and decadent.
Ten walked in and she realized he’d lost his shirt. He was wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung jeans, his hair still wet from a shower. He smelled clean and masculine as he leaned over and cradled their son. He easily moved the sleeping boy from her arms to the crib, settling him in before leaning down and kissing Grant’s forehead. “You sleep well, son.”
She loved watching them together. “When do you have to be at work? Did you get a call from Big Tag?”
It would explain the shower. Her husband worked for McKay-Taggart and they didn’t necessarily keep proper office hours. Nor did his job always happen in the US.
He turned and held out a hand. “I’m not going to work. At least not any work that will take me out of this house. Come with me, Faith.”
She shivered but not because the air was cool. Nope. It had just gotten hot because his voice had turned dark. Dom deep. She found herself standing up without really thinking about it. Her body obeyed that voice.
When she’d first met Ten Smith, she’d thought she was meeting a Dom she could play with for a little while. She’d wanted three months with him. Now she couldn’t imagine not having a lifetime with this man. “What are we doing, Ten?”
“I didn’t ask you to question me,” he replied. “I asked you to come with me. Unless you would rather sit down and talk. Because I thought you would like some play tonight. I know I need it.”
She followed her husband through their neatly kept home. They had two. This four-bedroom here in Dallas, and a cabin near her clinic in Sierra Leone. She loved them both, loved that she got to split her time, that Ten came with her. He understood how important her work was to her.
Would he understand her fears about another child? About the one they had?
Ten opened the door to the small playroom they kept in the house. One day they would have to keep it locked, but for now it was open. He turned on the soft lights.
“You know where you are, Faith. You know what I want.”
She knew what he always wanted. Faith immediately shed her clothes, easing out of the pajama bottoms and top she was wearing until she was naked in front of her husband. She sank to the floor, finding her position. There was comfort here. She settled herself, sinking back and spreading her knees wide so she could feel cool air on her pussy. Spine straight. Palms on her thighs. Eyes soft and submissive, focused on the floor and waiting for her Master’s command.
Yes, he was right. This was what she needed.
Ten’s bare feet came into view. Even his feet were sexy. She knew that soon every inch of his skin would be laid bare to her eyes. Every centimeter of flesh would be open to her touch.
“I’ve got the baby monitor on. There’s no need to worry. I want you to relax. We can hear Grant’s every move, but I want you to focus on me and me alone for now. Let me keep an ear open for our son.”
She could try to do that. “Yes, Master.”
In this room he was the Master. They might have started their D/s relationship in an odd way, but she relied on it in times like this. They were perfect partners outside the bedroom, sharing all the responsibilities of life and making all the decisions together, but inside this room, she gave her body up to her Master.
His feet moved away and she heard the closet door open and then close again. Then she heard the sweet sound of a crop hitting her husband’s palm. This was his ritual. He warmed her up with the crop and then they played and fucked and loved for hours.
She shivered when she felt the tip inch up her spine.
“I want to talk to you, Faith.”
As long as he fucked her while he did it, yes, they would “talk” all night long. “Sure, Master.”
“I want to talk to you about Hope.”
All the heat fled her body and she lost her form. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
He dropped to his knees beside her, seeming more husband than Dom. “Baby, there is everything to talk about and I’ve neglected it. I didn’t want to talk about it because I somehow thought that you were over it, but you’re not.”
“Over what, Ten?” She wasn’t ready for this. She wanted to stay in her happy little bubble for a while longer. But was she truly happy knowing she was keeping something important from her husband? “Over getting my sister’s ashes back? Why should that affect me? My sister was a psychopath.”
“And she was your sister,” he said gently. “Please talk to me. You don’t have to start. I’ll ask you questions and you can answer and we’ll have a nice session. Baby, I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t think it was important. If you don’t want to do it this way, let me call Kai and set up a couple of sessions for us.”
Sessions? Her closed-mouth, stoic husband was willing to go to therapy sessions with her. “Why? Why would you do that?”
“Because lately I feel distant from you. I can’t stand not being close to you. My life means nothing if you aren’t here with me. When we got married Big Tag gave me some advice. He said people naturally grow apart and it’s essential in a marriage that someone makes sure we grow together instead. I can’t let it go on. I can’t sit back and pretend there’s nothing wrong.”
Oh, what had she done to him? She could hear the pain in his voice, and that had never been her goal. Quite the opposite. She’d hidden her fears in the hopes that he wouldn’t have to know, but he did. He knew her and he’d seen past her smiles.
“It’s hard to talk about.” She didn’t want to. She wanted to bury it all and maybe it would go away. Years from now perhaps she wouldn’t think about her family and ache with despair.
But she had to make a decision and soon.
“We can talk however you like, but we have to talk. Should I call Kai?”
This was their problem. She was sure Kai would have lots of wise things to say, but at the heart this was between her and Ten, and they had a language of their own. She straightened up, finding her position again.
“No. Let’s do this our way.” It might not end as she desired, but at least it would be out in the open. “Ask me whatever you would like to, Master.”
He stood back up, but she could feel his reluctance. His hand found the top of her head, accepting all she was offering him, promising her he would return her submission with his own gift. “I love you, Faith.”
That was never the question. “I love you, Tennessee.”
“Then we’ll begin.” His voice had gone hard again, taking on the persona of the Dom. He ran the tip of the crop up her left thigh, allowing her to feel the leather. “How did you feel when you opened the package?”
“Numb.” She still felt a bit numb. “Surprised for a second and then numb.”
The crop ran up her body, flicking gently at her breasts. Her nipples hardened, peaking as he stimulated them.
“What was the first thing that ran through your head?”
She wasn’t going to lie to him or prevaricate. This was a space where they were always, always honest with each other. Not that she lied to him outside this space, but she might try to spare his feelings. This space in their house, this place in their marriage, was about nothing but their feelings and honesty.
“That I should work quickly because you would be home any minute. I thought I should hide it from you.”
The crop stopped and she could practically feel his frustration. “Why? Why would you hide that from me?”
The crop started up again. She closed her eyes and let herself feel the crop, the soft tip of the leather. It was a well-used crop, but it still had a sting. It could still make her skin sing with life. Other wives might want to have this discussion while their husbands rubbed their feet, but this was perfect for her. It was a balance between anticipating his next move and continuing to give him the answers he required. It left no room for measuring her words. They simply flowed.
“Because I didn’t want you to look at that urn and think about what happened to you. I didn’t want her to bring you another moment’s worth of pain.”
“You thought you should hide it. Lean over. I want you on all fours, darlin’.”
She sighed because that meant he was ready to start in on her in earnest. He knew she was ready, could read the signs of her body. Her skin would have flushed with arousal by now, her body warm and wanting. She did as he asked. “I thought about throwing it away. I thought about tossing it in the garbage, but you tend to take it out in the morning so you might have seen it. I thought about putting it out in the garage, but you cleaned it recently. You would notice a box. Your neat freak really puts a girl in a bad place when she’s trying to hide something.”
A little brat, so he would start this out right.
The crop came down on her backside, biting into her and making her ache in the best possible way. He slapped it across her ass five times before stepping back.
“Was that the only thing you thought about?”
“I thought about how much it would hurt Theo if he knew I had it. I felt guilty.”
“Why would you feel guilty?”
“Because it’s in my house.” Maybe she wasn’t as good with the honesty thing as she hoped she would be. The fact that it had come to her, that she was the only one who could receive her sister’s body, marked her in a way she didn’t like. And it had brought about feelings she didn’t want either, feelings she thought she’d gotten over.
Another five quick swats and she was panting.
“I don’t believe you.”
He knew her far too well. This was why he was determined to put her in a position where she couldn’t run away.
“Trust me, Ten. I was not happy to receive that particular gift.”
“Would it surprise you that it doesn’t bother me?” he replied. He let the crop run up her spine. “I don’t care that it’s here. I think we should sit down and figure out what to do with it.”
“Throw it away.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I was thinking more along the lines of a very quiet internment.”
“Why would we do that?”
“Because she was your sister.”
No. Not those words. Those words threatened to break her down, to tear the wall she’d placed into tiny bits. “She was a monster.”
“And she was your sister.”
“Stop saying that,” she ground out.
She heard him sigh and then the sound of the crop cracking on her ass. The sound hit her ear before she felt the actual pain. Again and again. Oh, she would feel this in the morning. She would feel it and the ache would remind her of the connection between them. The weird, wonderful connection that this lifestyle offered her.
He stopped and she forced herself to breathe.
“I can’t not say it, Faith. I think it’s important. I don’t think you wanted to get rid of her ashes because you were worried I might have a PTSD incident. You know I’m over that. Well, as much as I can be. I know she’s gone and a bunch of ashes isn’t going to send me into a tailspin, but I think it could with you.”
“Do you think I want to remind everyone where I came from?” The tears in her eyes felt good. She wouldn’t have allowed them before, and that was why this was a better plan than going to Kai’s. She would have viewed the conversation as an intellectual one when she needed to put her brain on hold and let her feelings flow. But it was still hard. It wasn’t how she’d been trained to deal with things. Her father had taught her to bury everything deep, never let ’em see you sweat.
Of course in her father’s case, he also tried to never let ’em see you sell out his country’s troops for cash or murder the people who might report him.
“Where you came from? You mean your family? Faith, everyone knows she was your sister.”
“Yes, but I don’t have to keep reminding them.”
“Baby, is this why you’re reluctant to go back to Sanctum?”
It had been easier maintaining her friendships while she was in Africa. For roughly a year before Grant had been born, Ten had been working in the region and in Southeast Asia while she’d run her clinic. She’d talked to Erin, come home to be with her when she could, but she hadn’t been forced to think about what her very presence meant to everyone else.
Her sister had ruined Theo Taggart’s life. How could they stand to look at her?
“I think it’s easier to play alone, Master.”
He moved to the front and eased her back on her heels, taking a knee so he could see her. “Do you think they hate you, Faith?”
Hate was a strong word. “I think I would make them uncomfortable.”
“Erin loves you. No one lost more than Erin.”
“Theo did.”
Ten shrugged. “Yeah, but he doesn’t remember most of it so he doesn’t count.”
“That’s a terrible thing to say.” But her lips were quirking despite her own shock.
“I could say many, many worse things,” he replied. “Erin considers you her best friend. She doesn’t hate you. Neither does Theo, nor do any of the Taggart brothers. They consider you part of the family and that means something to them. I think deep inside you know that. You know you’re welcome so if that isn’t the real problem, we have to figure out what is. Baby, do you think less of me because of where I came from?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I came from a woman who dumped me in the trash can after she gave birth to me because her place in the high school hierarchy was more important than a child to her.”
Tennessee had a hard start in life. He’d barely made it through his first day, and it had only been a homeless, hungry vet who had saved him. “Ten, it’s not the same.”
“Isn’t it? My mother was a weak person. She was a drug addict. I think sometimes if Franklin Grant hadn’t found me, I would have ended up the same. And yet when we found her grave, you went with me to visit it because you knew that I needed that closure from her. You knew somewhere deep down I had to find a way to let go of my anger toward her.”
She shook her head. “You can’t expect me to forgive her.”
He stood and then lifted her to her feet. “I don’t. I do need you to forgive yourself. I need that badly. Grant needs it.”
The tears started up again. “Ten, please. Spank me again.”
He shook his head, looking deep into her eyes. “I’ll only do that when it brings you pleasure. I will not punish you for something you didn’t do. You did not know what your sister was capable of. She never showed that side to you. The minute you did know, you helped bring her in.”
“I should have seen it. I lived with her. I grew up with her. I…” She couldn’t say it.
Ten’s eyes softened. “You loved her. Baby, she was your sister and you loved her and she’s dead and her ashes are sitting in the living room and it’s all right for you to cry. It’s all right for you to feel. No one I know feels as much as you do and hides it. Give it to me. It’s my right to see your pain and share it. I’m worth nothing at all if I can’t comfort you. I always thought I was born to try to protect my country, but this is my true purpose. Loving you. Comforting you.”
The words broke her. His hands on her body, warming her. He pulled her in close and she was surrounded by him. This was what he did. He wrapped her in his gorgeous, scarred body and shut away the world.
“Your daddy is the one who told you not to cry. He was wrong, Faith. There is strength in letting go. You have to be able to show our son that— the same way you showed me.”
Their son. “What if I ruin him?”
The true heart of everything.
Ten leaned back, searching her face. “Baby, what is that supposed to mean?”
“My sister was a monster. What if…”
He kissed the top of her head. “No. What Hope had, it’s not something that gets passed on through DNA. You know that, Doc.”
“But we don’t.”
“If that were true there would be families of serial killers. It’s a combination of nature and nurture. Your father saw your sister’s nature and he did everything he could to nurture it. He helped mold her into a person without a conscience. He was proud of her, proud of what he’d helped her become. I was there and I saw it. You would never allow that to happen to our son. I’m not saying he couldn’t do bad things. He’ll be human. But he’ll be raised by parents who love him and a whole crazy family who’ll put him on his ass when he does something wrong. That baby in there is going to be so surrounded by love he won’t ever question his place, and that will bring its own problems.”
Because every kid had a unique set of problems. No parent got out without pain and frustration. It was the tradeoff. The ultimate love could cause the ultimate pain.
She’d loved her sister and her sister had disappointed her brutally.
“I’m afraid to have another kid. I’m afraid of putting Grant in my position.”
He shook his head. “First off, we don’t have to have any more kids, baby. I’m fine with Grant, but you need to make that decision because you’re happy where we are and you don’t need anything else. You can’t make that decision because you’re afraid. Not when you have so damn much love to give. You know what I want to do? If I had my way, we would adopt from now on. We would find the lost kids of this world and give them a home, and do you know how risky that is? We’ll have no idea what those kids have really been through, how damaged they are. We’ll be going in blind and praying.”
They would go in with the deep belief that there was nothing so broken it couldn’t be put back together with enough love and patience. As his adoptive father had shown Ten.
What if Franklin Grant had been too afraid to take in damaged kids? Where would her husband be without that man’s compassion? He wouldn’t have had Jamie or Phoebe in his life. He wouldn’t have become the man he was.
“I hate the fact that I miss her sometimes.” The tears came freely now. He’d found the core of her torment. She’d had a sister who’d done terrible things…but she’d still been her sister. She’d lost her father and her mother.
And she’d never felt like she could cry for them.
Not for them. Her sister was at peace finally, and it was a good thing. Hope couldn’t hurt anyone again, and neither could their father. She wasn’t crying for them. She was crying for herself, for what she’d lost, for what she’d never really had.
Her family had been an illusion, a wispy figment of her imagination, bolstered by her father and sister pretending to be normal around her. They’d known how to work her, to keep her in the dark.
But she didn’t have to stay there. She didn’t have to be afraid. All of life was a risk and she had the best partner in the world to take that risk with.
Ten held her, picking her up and carrying her out of the playroom. He walked them into the bedroom and curled up on the bed with her, never letting her go while she cried.
He didn’t say a word, merely let her know he was there, that he would always be there.
Slowly, she let go of the poison that had stayed in her system for years.
Finally, when she went still, he kissed her forehead. “There is no one in the world I love more than you, my wife. You know back when I was with the Agency, I had a mentor named John Bishop. He was the single coldest man I’ve ever met. John Bishop taught me how to be ruthless in a way my adoptive father couldn’t. He started training Big Tag, too.”
“Started?” He so rarely talked about his CIA days that she didn’t even think about asking him where he was going with this.
“Yeah, about six months into Tag’s training, Bishop disappeared. We were all pretty sure he’d been killed by the cartel he’d been investigating. The Jeep he’d been using blew up and we thought he was lost with it.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be. I got word today that he’s surfaced. My first thought was that he’d faked his death because he’d made enough money or found someplace that offered him more power,” Ten said. “Deep down, I’d always known any man that ruthless could go bad in a heartbeat. It’s what happened to Eli Nelson. He didn’t start out as an asshole. Life in the Agency twisted him and he didn’t have anyone in his life to help twist him the other way. So when I heard about Bishop being alive, I thought they were going to throw him in jail.”
“Is he there?”
A smile crossed Ten’s face and he rolled on top of her. She could feel his erection, loved the way his chest met hers.
“Hell no. He didn’t fake his death for power. He did it for love. John Bishop fell in love with some crazy granola girl in small town Colorado and he gave it all up. I mean everything, baby. Apparently he’s gone vegan for this woman. John “the Iceman” Bishop went all soft and gooey for a girl and he’s holed up in a town called Bliss. Baby, if that can happen, there’s nothing the love of a good woman can’t fix. And you are the best woman I know. After all, you fixed me.”
She kissed him, unable to stay away from him a second longer. She’d been foolish to hide her pain from him. They were married, building a family, and part of that was sharing it all. The good and the bad. The joy and the pain. It was theirs and it was selfish for her to keep it all to herself.
He kissed her, time seeming to stop and the world fading until it was only them. Until nothing mattered but the way their bodies entwined, his mouth on hers, chest to chest, toes tickling each other. She pushed her husband’s jeans down, greedy for the feel of him inside her.
He was always inside her, always in her mind and heart, and now she needed him in her body, their physical connection bolstering the emotional one.
She gasped as he thrust inside her, wrapping her legs around him and shoving her pelvis up so there was not an inch of distance between them.
“I love you, Faith.”
He always talked about how she’d saved him, but he’d saved her, too. Without Ten, she would be alone in the world, having pulled away out of pain and insecurity. Ten wouldn’t let her. He wouldn’t allow them to grow apart. He would always be here, pulling them back together.
He thrust in hard and she went over the edge, her nails sinking into his back as she called out his name.
Ten tensed above her and gave her everything he had.
He fell on top of her, burying his face in the curve of her neck. He breathed her in. “When you’re ready, we’ll figure out how to bury her. We won’t make a big deal out of it. Just you and me.”
Because she would be honoring the sister she’d known, not the one who had tried to burn the world down. Because Hope, for all her flaws, had been family.
“We should think about adopting soon,” she said. “I was thinking about…”
“Sahr. Yeah, I was, too.” He finished her thought with a smile on his face.
Sahr was a bright-faced six-month-old whose mother had died in her clinic. They’d spent months looking for relatives, but no one had stepped up.
It was time for her to. It was time to really build a family with a man who knew how to love.
“I’ll get Mitchell on it,” she promised. It would be hard, but international adoptions could be done. “And Ten, I liked being pregnant. I’m not counting that out either.”
“I’ll take all the kiddos I can get with you,” he said, kissing her again. “Any way we get ’em.”
He started to kiss her, his hands finding her breasts and warming her body up all over again.
There was a healthy cry from the baby monitor.
Ten groaned. “I take back what I said about kids. They’re annoying.”
But he said it with a smile as he rolled out of bed and reached for his boxers. Before she knew it, he was back with Grant, hopping into bed and cuddling their son as he devoured a bottle.
“I wouldn’t take it back, you know,” Ten said, leaning against her.
“What?”
“Any of it,” he whispered. “I would walk into that room where your sister was waiting for me a million times because that pain led me here. And there is no place I would rather be.”
Faith cuddled with her boys and looked forward to the future.