15
Moving closer to the table, I set my hand on Gideon’s back and felt the tension there. His skin was so warm beneath the soft cotton of his T-shirt, the muscles stretched tight.
Chris came in from the kitchen with a tray bearing four steaming mugs of coffee, a small cup of half-and-half, and sugar in a bowl. He set it down near Michna, since the rest of the dining table was covered in pictures.
The detectives thanked him and each took a mug. Graves took her coffee black. Michna added a splash of cream and a sprinkling of sugar.
I’d only seen Michna in the course of the investigation into Nathan’s death. I knew Graves more personally; I’d sparred with her during Parker’s Krav Maga classes. I believed Graves liked me or was at least sympathetic. And I was certain it was Gideon’s love for me that swayed her into closing Nathan’s case while she still had questions.
It comforted me to have them in charge.
“I want to be sure I understand,” I said, pushing through the grief that had fogged my mind all day. “This man was stalking Gideon?”
My dad shoved the photos away. “Was Hall targeting my daughter or Cross?”
“Hall believes Cross betrayed him,” Graves answered, “by getting married.”
I stared at her. She wore no jewelry or makeup, yet she was fiercely compelling. Pummeled by the realities of her job, she still had a passion for justice—even if it came outside the law. “If he couldn’t have Gideon, no one could?”
“Not quite.” She looked at Gideon. “Hall believes he has an ‘entwined destiny’ with you—some kind of cosmic pact—and that your marriage breaks this pact between you. Killing you is the only way to prevent his life from going in a direction he doesn’t want to go.”
“Is that supposed to make sense?” Cary asked, setting his elbows on the table and gripping his head in both hands.
“Hall’s fixation isn’t sexual,” Michna elaborated, looking rumpled and tired from pulling an all-nighter. Still, he was keenly and disconcertingly observant. His partner zeroed in; he assessed the periphery. “It’s not even romantic. He claims he’s heterosexual.”
Graves pulled another photo out of the file and set it atop the others. “You both know this woman.”
Anne. My palms were suddenly damp. Gideon’s body tautened like a bow.
“Fuck me,” Cary muttered, his fisted hands dropping to the table with a thud that made me jump.
“I saw her last night,” Chris said, taking a chair by Gideon. “She was at the dinner. Hard to miss that bright red hair.”
“Who is that?” my dad asked, his voice firm and flat.
“Dr. Anne Leslie Lucas,” Graves replied. “She’s the psychiatrist who was treating Hall, although she met with him at a second office away from her primary practice, using the alias Dr. Aris Matevosian.”
Gideon’s breath hissed out between his teeth. “I know that name.”
Graves zeroed in, her gaze sharply focused. “How?”
“Just a moment. I’ll show you.” He pushed back from the table and headed down the hallway.
I watched him go, saw Lucky scampering after him. The puppy had been sticking close to me for most of the morning, as if he thought I needed him more than Gideon did right now. Something had changed. And since Lucky’s emotional barometer was more accurate than mine at the moment, I needed to pay attention to that.
“Will someone explain who Dr. Lucas is,” my father demanded, “and her relevance to Hall and Monica?”
“We’ll let Cross fill us all in on that,” Michna said.
“They had a sexual relationship awhile back,” I interjected, wanting to take the burden of telling the story off Gideon’s shoulders. He was ashamed of what he’d done, I knew that.
I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, trying to get warm. I knew I had to choose my words carefully. Telling the whole truth would be difficult, considering the unflattering picture of my husband my father would see.
“She got wrapped up in it,” I went on, “and wanted to leave her husband, so Gideon broke it off. She hasn’t been able to move on or get past it. She showed up at my building once, and tried approaching Cary a couple times, wearing a wig, pretending to be someone else.”
Graves watched me with a sharp, savvy gaze. “We reviewed her complaint. You and Cross confronted her, separately, on two different occasions.”
“Damn it, Eva.” My dad glared at me, his eyes bloodshot and red rimmed. “You know better.”
“Know what?” I shot back. “I still don’t understand what this all means. She was harassing my best friend and my husband. I told her to back off.”
Gideon returned and held out his phone, showing a picture he’d taken.
Michna examined the image. “A prescription for Corinne Giroux written by Dr. Aris Matevosian. Why do you have this?”
“There was a time, a couple months ago,” Gideon said tonelessly, resuming his seat beside me, “when Corinne became erratic. I discovered she’d been seeing a therapist who prescribed antidepressants, which were causing her mood swings. I took a picture of the label so I’d know who to contact if she continued having problems.”
Gideon put his arm around me, urging me to lean into him. The moment I was pressed against him, I felt him sag heavily into the chair, as if holding me was a major relief. I slid my arm around his waist, felt his lips press against my forehead.
His chest rumbled beneath my ear as he spoke. “So Anne was Hall’s therapist,” he said, his voice rough with fatigue. “Why the alias?”
“She thought she was smart,” Grave said bluntly. “We’re smarter. And we have Hall, who is very disturbed but also very cooperative. He confessed the minute we sat down with him. He was also clever—or paranoid—enough to secretly record all of his sessions with Dr. Lucas, which we recovered during a search of his vehicle.”
“Did she put him up to this?” I asked, wanting to be sure there was no misunderstanding.
“I don’t think Hall was ever playing with a full deck,” Michna said, “but he used to have a job, a place to live, and no particular interest in Cross. Anne Lucas did a number on him.”
Graves started gathering up the photos with the help of her partner. “He mentioned to her that he dropped out of school after the Cross Ponzi scheme wiped out his grandparents. It wasn’t something he held a grudge over, but she got him thinking that his life and Cross’s are paralleled in some way.”
“Can she go to jail for that?” I hung on tighter to Gideon. “What she did—that’s part of the reason my mom’s … gone. She can’t just get away with that, right?”
“We picked her up about an hour ago.” Graves held my gaze and I saw her determination. “When her lawyer shows up, we’ll take a crack at her.”
“The DA’s office will determine the full extent of the charges,” Michna said, “but Hall’s recordings, plus security footage of both Lucas and Hall entering and leaving her secondary office, gave us probable cause.”
“You’ll keep us posted,” my father said.
“Of course.” Graves tucked everything back in her satchel, then shot a look at Gideon. “Did you see Dr. Lucas at the dinner?”
“Yes,” he answered, his hand stroking up and down my arm. “Eva pointed her out to me.”
“Did either of you speak with her at all?” Michna asked.
“No.” Gideon looked down at me with a question in his eyes.
“I flipped her the bird from a distance,” I confessed, the memory of her drifting through my blurry mind. “She had this smirk on her face. Maybe that’s why she was there, so she could see what happened.”
“Angel.” Gideon enfolded me, wrapping me into his warmth and the scent of his skin.
“All right. We’ve got what we need for now,” Graves said briskly. “We’ll just take Mr. McLeod’s statement regarding the Westport incident and be on our way. Thank you for your time.”
Dismissed, we all pushed back from the table.
“Eva.” Graves waited until our gazes met. For a moment, she wasn’t just a cop. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” Self-conscious, I looked away from Graves.
Did she wonder at my dry eyes? God knew I did. As crazy as my mother drove me at times, I loved her. Didn’t I? What kind of daughter didn’t feel anything when her mom died?
Angus took Gideon’s abandoned chair and began recounting what had happened in Westport.
Gideon took my hand and led me a few feet away. “I need some time with you.”
Frowning, I nodded. “Yeah, of course.”
He drew me along with him toward our bedroom.
“Cross.”
We both turned at the sound of my father’s voice. “Yes?”
Dad stood by the living room, his face hard and his gaze heated. “We have to talk.”
“Agreed,” Gideon said with a nod. “Just give me five minutes with my wife.”
He kept going, not giving my dad a chance to object. I followed along to our bedroom, Lucky racing ahead of us. I watched Gideon as he shut the door with the three of us inside. Then he faced me, his gaze searching.
“You should take a nap,” I told him. “You look tired.” And that troubled me. I couldn’t recall when I’d ever seen him so wiped out.
“Do you see me?” he asked hoarsely. “Are you looking at me and seeing me?”
My frown deepened. I looked him over from head to toe. Oh. He’d dressed for me. Thinking of me. “Yes.”
He reached out and touched my face. His tormented gaze held mine. “I feel like I’m invisible to you.”
“I see you.”
“I …” He breathed hard, his chest working as if he’d just run miles. “I’m sorry, Eva. Sorry about Anne … about last night …”
“I know.” Of course I knew that.
He was so upset. Much more than I was. Why? My self-control was never as good as his. Except for now. From the moment I learned the truth, I’d felt an icy resolve form somewhere deep inside me. I didn’t understand it, but I used it. To deal with the police. And my dad and Cary, who needed me to be strong for them.
“Damn it.” He came to me and cupped my face in his hands. “Yell at me. Hit me. For God’s sake—”
“Why?”
“Why?” He stared at me as if I were crazy. “Because this is my fault! Anne was my problem and I didn’t manage her. I didn’t—”
“You’re not responsible for her actions, Gideon,” I said crossly, frustrated he would think that way. “Why would you believe you were? That doesn’t make any sense.”
His hands went to my shoulders and he gave me a little shake. “You’re not making sense! Why aren’t you mad that I didn’t tell you about your mother? You lost it when I hired Mark and didn’t tell you. You left me—” His voice broke. “You’re not leaving me over this, Eva. We’ll work through it … we’ll figure out how to get past it.”
“I’m not leaving you.” I touched his face. “You need to sleep, Gideon.”
“God.” He caught me up and took my mouth, his lips slanting over mine. I put my arms around him, stroking his back to try to calm him down.
“Where are you?” he muttered. “Come back to me.”
Cupping my jaw, he pressed gently with trembling fingers, urging my mouth to open. The moment it did, his tongue swept inside, licking desperately. With a groan, he pulled me up hard against him, urgently fucking his tongue into my mouth.
Heat bloomed inside me. The warmth of his feverishly hot skin penetrated my clothes, sinking into my flesh. Desperate for something to thaw me, I kissed him back, my tongue stroking his.
“Eva.” Gideon released me, his hands moving over me, sliding over my back and arms.
I pushed up onto the tips of my toes, deepening the contact of our mouths. My hands slid beneath his shirt and he hissed, arching into me and away from the chill of my fingers. My touch followed, caressing his skin, seeking that warmth.
“Yes,” he gasped into my mouth. “God, Eva. I love you.”
I licked across his lips, sucked his tongue when he licked me back. The sound he made was both pain and relief, his hands cupping my buttocks and pulling me up against him. I clung to him, lost in him. He was what I needed. I couldn’t think about anything else when he was holding me.
“Tell me you love me,” he breathed. “That you’ll forgive me. Next week … next year … someday …”
“I love you.”
He tore his mouth away, hugging me so tightly it was hard to breathe. My feet dangled above the floor, my temple pressed to his.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he vowed. “I’ll find a way.”
“Shh …” It was there, in the back of my mind, the dismay. The hurt. But I didn’t know whether it was because of Gideon or my mom.
I closed my eyes. Focused on the adored, familiar scent of him. “Kiss me again.”
Gideon turned his head, his lips finding mine. I craved deeper, harder, but he denied me. As ferociously passionate as his first kisses had been, this one was soft. Tender. I whimpered a protest, my hands pushing into his hair to pull him closer.
“Angel.” He nuzzled against me. “Your dad’s waiting.”
Oh, God. I loved my dad, but his agony and helpless rage were pouring off him, battering me. I didn’t know how to comfort or soothe. There was a void inside me, as if I had nothing left to give anyone. But everyone needed me.
Putting me back on my feet, Gideon searched my face again. “Let me be here for you. Don’t shut me out.”
“I’m not trying to.” I looked away, toward the bathroom. There’s a towel on the floor. Why is it there? “There’s something wrong.”
“Yes. Everything,” he said tightly. “It’s all fucked up. I don’t know what to do.”
“No. Wrong inside me.”
“Eva. How can you say that? There’s nothing wrong with you.” He cupped my face again, brought it around.
“You nicked yourself.” I touched the little spot of dried blood on his jaw. “You never do that, either.”
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” He wrapped himself around me. “I don’t know what to do,” he said again. “I don’t know what to do.”
Gideon kept my hand in his as we returned to the living room.
My father looked over from where he sat on the couch, then stood. Worn jeans. A faded UCSD T-shirt. The shadow of stubble on his strong square jaw.
Gideon had shaved. Why hadn’t I processed that when I noticed the cut from the razor? Why hadn’t I noticed that he’d changed out of his tux?
Some things came to me with strange clarity. Others were lost in the fog in my mind.
The detectives were gone. Cary was curled up against the armrest of the couch, fast asleep, his mouth hanging partway open. I could hear him snoring softly.
“We can step into my office,” Gideon said, releasing my hand to gesture down the hallway.
With a curt nod, my dad rounded the coffee table. “Lead the way.”
Gideon started walking. I fell into step behind him.
“Eva.” My dad’s voice stopped me and I turned around. “I need to speak to Cross alone.”
“Why?”
“I’ve got things to say that you don’t need to hear.”
I shook my head slowly. “No.”
He made a frustrated noise. “We’re not arguing about this.”
“Dad, I’m not a child. Anything you have to say to my husband has something to do with me and I think I should be involved.”
“I have no objection,” Gideon said, returning to my side.
My father’s jaw tensed, his gaze darting back and forth between us. “Fine.”
We all went to Gideon’s office. Chris was sitting at Gideon’s desk, talking on the phone. He pushed back and stood when we came in. “Whenever you’re done for the day,” he said to whomever he was talking to. “I’ll explain when I see you. All right. Talk to you then, son.”
“I need my office a minute,” Gideon told him when he hung up.
“Sure.” His concerned gaze raked all three of us. “I’ll pull out some plates and things for lunch. We all need to eat something.”
Chris left the room, which drew my eye to my dad, who was staring at the massive collage of photos on the wall. The one in the center was of me, sleeping. It was an intimate image; the kind of picture a man took to remember the things he had done with his lover before she’d fallen asleep.
I looked at the other photos, noted one of me and Gideon at an event that I now knew had been captured by Hall. I turned my head away, feeling a prickle running down my spine.
Fear? Hall had taken my mother from me, but who he’d really wanted was Gideon. I could be mourning my husband now. My stomach cramped at the thought, hunching me over.
“Angel.” He was near me in an instant, urging me to sit in one of the two chairs facing his desk.
“What’s wrong?” My dad hovered, too, his eyes wild. I couldn’t recognize my own feelings, but I saw his. He was frightened for me, more anxious than was warranted.
“I’m okay,” I assured them, even as I reached for Gideon’s hand and held on tight.
“You need to eat,” Gideon said.
“So do you,” I countered. “The sooner you two get done, the faster we can do that.”
Just the thought of food made me queasy, but I didn’t say that. They were both already too worried about me.
My dad straightened. “I spoke to my family,” he told Gideon. “They still want to come and be here for Eva. And me.”
Gideon half-sat on the edge of his desk, one hand running through his hair. “Okay. We were going to fly them direct to North Carolina. We’ll have to adjust the flight plan.”
“I would appreciate that,” my dad said, grudgingly.
“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
“Then why do you look worried?” I said to Gideon, seeing his frown.
“It’s just … It’s a madhouse on the street right now. We can bring your family in through the garage, but if word gets out that they’re in town, they may have to deal with media and photographers at their hotel or anywhere else they may go in the city.”
“They’re not coming to sightsee,” my dad snapped.
“That’s not what I meant, Victor.” Gideon sighed wearily. “I’m just thinking out loud. I’ll work it out. Consider it taken care of.”
I pictured how it must be downstairs outside the lobby, imagined my grandmother and cousins wading through a gauntlet like that. I shook my head and had a moment of clarity. “If they want to come, we should go to the Outer Banks like we planned. We already have the rooms reserved for them. It’ll be quiet and private.”
Suddenly, I longed to be at the beach. Feeling the wind in my hair, the surf lapping at my bare feet. I’d felt alive there. I wanted to feel alive again. “We had catering arranged. We’d have food and beverages for everyone.”
Gideon looked at me. “I had Scott talk to Kristine. We pulled out of everything.”
“It can’t have been more than a few hours ago. The hotel probably hasn’t filled the room block in that short of time. And the caterer already has the things well under way at this point.”
“You really want to go to the beach house?” he asked me quietly.
I nodded. There were no memories of my mom there, as there were in the city. And if I wanted to step outside and take a walk, no one would bother me.
“Okay, then. I’ll take care of it.”
I looked at my dad, hoping that plan was good with him. He stood beside me, his arms crossed and his gaze on his feet.
Finally, he said, “What happened changes everything. For all of us. I want to move to New York.”
Taken aback, I glanced at Gideon, then back at my dad. “Really?”
“It’s going to take some time for me to deal with work and selling my house, but I’m going to get the ball rolling.” He looked at me. “I need to be closer than the other side of the damn country. You’re all I’ve got.”
“Oh, Dad. You love your job.”
“I love you more.”
“What will you do for work?” Gideon asked.
There was something in his tone that drew my attention to him. He’d twisted a bit to face us better, drawing one thigh up to the desktop and resting his crossed hands atop it. He watched my father avidly. There wasn’t any of the surprise on his face that I felt.
“That’s what I wanted to talk about,” my father said, his handsome face grim.
“Eva needs a dedicated security chief,” Gideon said preemptively. “I’ve got Angus and Raúl stretched to their limits and my wife needs her own security team.”
My mouth fell open as I registered what my husband had said. “What? No, Gideon.”
His brows rose. “Why not? It would be ideal. There’s no one I could trust more to protect you than your own father.”
“Because it’s … weird. Okay? Dad’s his own man. It would be awkward to have my father on my husband’s payroll. It’s just … not right.”
“Angus is the closest I’ve had to a father,” he pointed out, “and he works the same job.” His gaze lifted to my dad. “I don’t think any less of him. And Chris, as the head of a company in which I have controlling interest, also could be said to work for me.”
“That’s different,” I said stubbornly.
“Eva.” My dad set his hand on my shoulder. “If I can handle it, you should be able to.”
I turned wide eyes to him. “Are you serious? Were you thinking about this before he brought it up?”
He nodded, still somber. “I’ve been thinking about it since he called me about … your mom. Cross is right: There’s no one I trust more than myself to keep you safe.”
“Safe from what? What happened last night … It’s not an everyday thing.” I couldn’t think differently. Living with the fear that Gideon might be in danger at any given moment? It would drive me insane. I certainly couldn’t live with putting my dad in the line of fire.
“Eva, I’ve seen you more on television, the Internet, and in magazines than I have in person this entire last year and you were living in San Diego for most of that time.” His face hardened. “God willing you’ll never be at risk, but I can’t take that chance. Besides, Cross is planning on hiring someone anyway. Might as well be me.”
“Were you?” I demanded, rounding on Gideon.
He nodded. “Yes. It’s been on my mind.”
“I don’t like it.”
“I’m sorry, angel.” His tone of voice told me I’d just have to suck it up.
My dad’s arms crossed. “I won’t accept any perks or compensation outside the scope of what you’re paying your other men.”
Gideon unfolded and rounded his desk, opening a drawer to withdraw a paper-clipped sheaf of paper. “Angus and Raúl both agreed to let me share their salaries with you. I’ve also laid out what you can expect, to start.”
“I can’t believe this,” I complained. “You were this far along and didn’t say anything to me?”
“I worked on it earlier this morning. It hasn’t come up before now and I wasn’t going to say anything unless your father mentioned moving to the city.”
And that was Gideon Cross: He never missed a trick.
My dad took the papers, perused the top sheet, then looked at Gideon incredulously. “Is this for real?”
“Consider that Angus has been with me for more years of my life than not. He also has considerable covert and military training. In short, he’s earned it.” Gideon watched as my dad flipped the page. “Raúl has been with me a shorter amount of time, so he’s not where Angus is—yet. But he also has a broad range of training and skills.”
My dad exhaled in a rush when he flipped to the next page. “Okay. This is …”
“More than you were likely expecting, but that spreadsheet gives you the info you need to gauge the offered compensation compared to my other chiefs. You can see that it’s fair. It’s predicated on the expectation that you will consent to further training and attain the necessary permits, licenses, and registrations.”
I watched my dad’s shoulders go back and his chin lift, the stubborn line of his mouth softening. Whatever he saw, he was taking as a challenge. “All right.”
“You’ll note that a housing allowance is included,” Gideon continued, in full-on mogul mode despite his matter-of-fact tone. “If you would like, there’s a unit next door to Eva’s former apartment that’s available and furnished.”
I caught my lower lip between my teeth, knowing he was talking about the apartment he’d kept while Nathan was a threat. We had met there clandestinely for weeks while keeping up the façade that we were no longer together.
“I’ll think about it,” my dad said.
“Another thing to think about,” Gideon began, “is the reality of your daughter being my wife. Certainly we would be mindful of your personal role in Eva’s life and be respectful of that. But respecting your place as her father means we won’t be brazen. It doesn’t mean we won’t be intimate.”
Oh my God. My shoulders hunched with embarrassment. I glared at Gideon. So did my dad.
It took my father a long minute to unclench his jaw and respond. “I’ll keep that in mind while I’m thinking things over.”
Gideon gave a brisk nod. “All right. Was there anything else we needed to cover?”
My dad shook his head. “Not right now.”
I crossed my arms, knowing I’d have more to say at some point.
“You know where to find me, angel, when you’re ready to tear into me.” My husband offered his hand to me. “In the meantime, let’s get some food into you.”
Dr. Petersen showed up around three, looking a little rattled. Getting through the throng on the sidewalk to enter the lobby had obviously been a trial. Gideon introduced him to everyone as I watched, trying to judge his reaction to meeting the people he’d heard such intimate things about.
He spoke to me briefly, offering his condolences. He’d liked my mother and often was somewhat indulgent about her neurotic behavior, to my frustration. I could tell he was affected by her loss, which made me wonder how I came across to him. Evidently, he couldn’t quite tell. I struggled to answer his questions about how I was doing.
He talked with Gideon for a much longer time, retreating with my husband to the dining room, where they spoke in hushed tones.
But not for long. Gideon turned toward me and I understood their talk was over. I accompanied Dr. Petersen to the foyer and saw him out, but not before I spotted my clutch on an end table.
When I retrieved my phone, I saw the dozens of missed calls and texts. Megumi, Will, Shawna, Dr. Travis … even Brett. I opened my messages and started to send out replies when the phone vibrated in my hand with an incoming call. I saw the name of the caller, looked up at Cary and found him talking with my dad, then headed down the hall to the bedroom.
Through the slender windows, I could see how far the afternoon had progressed. It would be dark in a few hours and the first day without my mom would be over.
“Hi, Trey.”
“Eva. I … I probably shouldn’t be intruding at a time like this, but I saw the news and I was calling you before I thought about it being a bad idea. I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am.”
I took a seat in one of the reading chairs, refusing to think about what the headlines might be shouting right now. “I appreciate you thinking of me.”
“I can’t believe what happened. If there’s anything I can do, please let me know.”
I let my heavy head fall back against the seat and closed my eyes. I recalled Trey’s handsome face, his kind hazel eyes and the little bump on his nose that told me it’d once been broken. “Look, Trey, I don’t want to lay a guilt trip on you, but you should know that my mother meant a lot to Cary. She was like a surrogate mom to him. He’s really hurting a lot right now.”
He sighed. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I meant to call you … before.” I curled my legs up beneath me. “To see how you’re doing, but also—well, there’s more. I wanted to tell you that I know you have to do what’s best for you. That said, if you’re thinking at all that you might want something with Cary, you should make up your mind quickly. The door is closing.”
“Let me guess. He’s seeing someone,” he said flatly.
“No, just the opposite. He’s taking some time for himself and reevaluating what he wants. You know he broke it off with Tatiana, right?”
“That’s what he says.”
“If you don’t trust him to tell the truth, it’s good you broke things off.”
“I’m sorry.” He made a low frustrated noise. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Cary’s healing, Trey. Pretty soon, he’s going to be ready to move on. It’s just something you need to think about.”
“All I’ve done is think about it. I still don’t know what the answer is.”
I rubbed the space between my brows. “Maybe you’re asking the wrong question. Are you happier with him or without him? Figure that out and I think the rest will become clear.”
“Thank you, Eva.”
“For what it’s worth, you and I kinda took the same route. Gideon and I always said we were going to make it work, but that was … I don’t know …” I searched through my brain fog. “Bravado. Stubbornness. That was part of our problem, we knew it was a house of cards. We weren’t taking the steps to make us solid. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah.”
“But we both made big changes, just like Cary has for you. And big concessions.”
I felt my husband enter the room and opened my eyes.
“It was worth it, Trey,” I said softly. “It’s not wishful thinking anymore. We’ll still hit bumps, people will throw us some curve balls, but when we say we’re going to get through anything, it’s nothing but the truth.”
“You’re telling me to give Cary another chance.”
I reached out to Gideon, felt a soft stirring in my chest as he came to me. “I’m saying I think you’ll like the changes he’s made. And if you meet him halfway, you might find it’s worth the trip.”
Chris left for the evening shortly after six to have dinner with Christopher. For some reason, he and Gideon exchanged a long look as my husband showed him out. I let it go without asking for an explanation. Their relationship had shifted. The wariness they used to regard each other with was gone. There was no way I was going to question it or make Gideon think too hard about it. It was time for him to make some decisions with his heart.
My dad and Cary left around nine, heading back to my old apartment, since there was room for both of them there and not enough in the penthouse.
Would my dad stay in the bedroom where he’d last made love to my mother? How would he bear it, if he did? When Gideon and I had been apart, I’d had to stay at Stanton’s. My room had too many memories of Gideon and the last thing I needed was to be tormented with reminders of what I wanted more than anything, yet feared I couldn’t have.
Gideon went around the penthouse, turning off lights, Lucky following him every step of the way. I watched my husband move, his tread heavier than usual. He was so tired. I had no idea how he’d managed to get through the day, considering how busy he’d been in the morning’s aftermath—coordinating with Kristine, answering the occasional call from Scott, and catching Arash up on the visit with the police.
“Angel.” He held his hand out to me.
I stared at it a moment. All day long, he’d offered me his hand. Such a simple thing, really, but it was powerful. I’m here, it said. You’re not alone. We can do this together.
Rising from my seat on the sofa, I linked my fingers with his and let him lead me to the bedroom and into the bathroom. There, I went through nearly the same routine as he did. Brushing my teeth, washing my face. He added the step of taking one of the pills Dr. Petersen had prescribed. Then I followed him into the bedroom and let him undress me, before sliding another T-shirt over my head. He tucked me in with a soft, slow kiss.
“Where are you going?” I asked, when he walked away.
“Nowhere.” He stripped with brusque efficiency, leaving his boxer briefs on. Then he joined me in bed, helped Lucky scramble up, then turned off the light.
Rolling toward me, he caught me around the waist and pulled me back against him, spooning behind me. I moaned softly at the heat of his body and shivered as it combated the chill in my bones.
I closed my eyes, focusing on the sound and feel of him breathing. Within a few moments, the tempo fell into the rhythmic evenness of sleep.
The wind whips through my hair as I walk along the shore, my feet sinking into the sand as the surf erodes every step. Ahead of me, I see the weathered shingles of the beach house Gideon bought for us. It sits perched above the tide on tall stilts, its many windows gazing far out over the water. Gulls circle and cry out above me, their quick dips and arrested hovering like a dance in the salt-tinged breeze.
“I can’t believe I’m going to miss the reception.”
I turn my head and discover my mother walking beside me. She’s wearing the same elegant formal gown I last saw her in. She’s so beautiful. Truly breathtaking. My eyes burn to look at her.
“We’re all going to miss it,” I tell her.
“I know. And I worked so hard on it.” She glances at me, the ends of her hair fluttering along her cheek. “I did manage to work some touches of red in.”
“Did you?” That makes me smile, despite my pain. She does love me the best way she knows how. Just because it’s not always the way I want her to doesn’t mean it’s not precious for what it is.
“It really is a garish color for a wedding, though. It was difficult.”
“It’s kinda your fault, you know, for buying that red dress I wore the first night Gideon took me out as his date.”
“Is that what inspired you?” She shakes her head. “Next time, you should pick a softer accent color.”
“There won’t be a next time. Gideon is it for me.” I pick up a shell, then toss it back into the water it came from. “There were times I wasn’t sure we’d make it, but I don’t worry about that anymore. We were our own worst enemy, but we let go of the baggage weighting us down.”
“The first few months are supposed to be the easy part.” My mom dances a little ahead of me and gives a graceful twirl. “The courtship. Fabulous trips, sparkling jewels.”
I snort. “It wasn’t easy for us. The beginning was the rockiest. But it gets smoother every day.”
“You’ll have to help your father find someone,” she says, the girlish delight faded from her voice. “He’s been lonely for so long.”
“You’re a hard act to follow. He still loves you.”
She shoots me a sad smile, then looks out over the water. “I had Richard … He’s such a good man. I wish he’d be happy again.”
I think of my stepfather and worry. My mother was everything to him. What will give him joy now that she’s gone?
“I’ll never be a grandmother,” she says thoughtfully. “I died young and in my prime. That’s not so terrible, is it?”
“How can you ask me that?” I let the tears flow. I searched my soul all day because I couldn’t cry. Now that they’re here, I welcome them. It feels as if a dam has burst.
“Don’t cry, honey.” She stops and hugs me, filling the air I breathe with the scent of her perfume. “You’ll see that—”
I woke with a gasp, my body racked by a hard jerk of surprise. Lucky whimpered and pawed at me, kneading into my stomach. I stroked his velvety head with one hand and swiped at my eyes with the other, but they were dry. The pain of my dream was already fading into a distant memory.
“Come here,” Gideon murmured, his voice a rough warm beacon in our moonlit bedroom. His arms came around me, pulling me back against him.
Turning into him, I sought his mouth and found it, sinking into him with a lush, deep kiss. Surprise held him motionless a moment, and then his hand was cupping the back of my head, holding me in place as he took over.
I tangled my legs with his, feeling the coarse brush of hair, the deliciously warm skin, and the powerful muscles underneath. The soft, rhythmic stroking of his tongue soothed and aroused me. No one kissed like Gideon. The coaxing demand of his mouth was searingly sexual, yet it was also tender. Reverent. His lips were both firm and soft, and he used them to tease, to brush gently against my own.
Reaching between us, I cupped his penis in my hand, stroking with a demand that answered his. He swelled to my touch, lengthening until the broad head pushed up beneath the elastic of his waistband. He groaned, his hips thrusting into my caress.
“Eva.”
I heard the question in the way he said my name.
“Make me feel,” I whispered.
His hand slid beneath my shirt, his fingers drifting feather-light across my belly until he palmed my breast. He squeezed, plumping the aching flesh before his clever fingers gripped my nipple. With a decadent knowledge of my body, Gideon rolled and tugged the hard, tight point of my breast, the relentless pressure and pulling sending pulses of need through my entire body.
I moaned, aroused. Desperate. My legs tightened around his so I could rub my damp sex against his thigh.
“Does your pretty cunt ache, angel?” He nibbled at the corner of my lips, the words a seduction all their own. “What does it need? My tongue … my fingers … my cock?”
“Gideon.” I whimpered shamelessly when he pulled away, my arms reaching for him as he rose above me. He hummed a soft sound of reassurance and dropped Lucky carefully to the floor. Then his hands were at my hips, pulling my underwear down to my knees.
“You haven’t answered me, Eva. What do you want me to put into your greedy little cunt? All of the above?”
“Yes,” I gasped. “Everything.”
A moment later my legs were in the air and his dark head was lowering to the sensitized flesh between my thighs.
I held my breath, waiting. Folded as I was, I couldn’t see …
The hot, wet velvet of his tongue slid between the tender folds of my sex.
“Oh, God!” I arched into a rigid bow.
Gideon purred. I struggled, trying to lift my hips up to the ecstasy of his wicked mouth. Gripping my thighs, he held me in place, tasting me at the pace he wanted, licking over and around the slick opening … taunting me with my hunger to feel his tongue inside me. His lips circled my throbbing clit, his mouth suckling, the flat of his tongue rubbing across that sensitive pleasure point.
“Please …” I didn’t care that he made me beg. The more I gave him, the more he gave back to me.
But he made me wait as he savored me, his hair caressing the tender skin at the back of my thighs, his tongue massaging my clit with the faintest of pressures.
I pressed my hands to my face. “That feels so good … Don’t stop …”
My mouth fell open when he licked lower, dipping the merest fraction into the trembling clutch of my body … then lower still, rimming the rosette that quivered beneath the silky caress.
“Oh!” I gasped, half mad with the barrage of sensation after hours of numbness.
His growl shivered through me. My body jerked as he finally gave me what I wanted, his stiffened tongue pushing into my slick heat with a slow, delicious thrust.
“Yes,” I gasped. “Fuck me.”
His mouth was exquisite, the source of all pleasure and torment, his tongue wicked in its sensual assault, plunging between the clenching delicate muscles.
Gideon ate me with tautly driven focus, so avid and greedy that I writhed with the incredible ecstasy pulsing through my body. There was pressure, and then his thumb slid into my rear and began fucking the tender opening. The fullness there contrasted with the rhythmic thrusts of his tongue. My core tensed. I hovered tautly, on the precipice of orgasm …
I screamed his name, my body on fire, my skin hot and damp. I was alive with pleasure, burning with it. The climax shattered me, broke me into pieces. But Gideon wouldn’t relent, his tongue sliding up to lash my clit. One orgasm rolled into the next.
Sobbing, coming hard and endlessly, I pressed my fists to my eyes. “No more,” I pleaded hoarsely, my limbs trembling hard as my core spasmed with yet another rush. “I can’t take any more.”
I felt the mattress dip as he moved, one hand holding my ankles. I heard the snap of his waistband as he shoved his boxer briefs down.
“How do you want it?” he asked darkly. “Slow and sweet? Fast and rough?”
Oh God …
I forced my answer past dry lips. “Deep. Hard.”
He came over me, pushing my legs back until I was bent in half.
“I love you,” he vowed fiercely, gruffly.
The lush crest of his thick cock surged into my sex, stroking over tissues already swollen and tender.
Folded as I was, my legs bound by my underwear around my knees, it was tight inside me and he was so big. I was stretched by his girth, my sensitive flesh stinging from the forcefulness of his possession. And he still had more to give.
Groaning my name, Gideon swiveled his hips, pulling out, pushing in, working the heavy shaft deeper. “Are you feeling this, angel?” he demanded, his voice gruff with desire.
“You’re all I feel,” I moaned, needing to move, to take more. But he kept me restrained, his body fucking me with destructive expertise.
The feel of him … so hard … the relentless, leisurely thrusts …
My fingers grasped at the sheets. My sex rippled frantically around him, grasping at the wide head of his penis with ravenous greed. Every withdrawal left me empty, every thick hot slide forced pleasure through my veins like a drug.
“Eva. Christ.”
Gideon loomed over me in the moonlight, a darkly sexual fallen angel. His beautiful face was hard with lust as his eyes gleamed down at me. His arms strained with unappeased need, his torso chiseled by the tension in his muscles. “You keep sucking on my dick with that tight cunt of yours and you’ll make me come. Is that what you want, angel? You want me to fill you up before you take it all?”
“No!” I exhaled in a rush, willing my core to relax its eager tightening. He rolled his hips, stroking into me, his breath hissing as I took more of him.
“God, Eva. Your cunt loves my cock.”
Reaching for the headboard, Gideon stretched over me, my legs trapped between us. Fully exposed and tilted back for his pleasure, I was helpless to do more than watch as he straightened his hips and sank the last few inches of his penis into me.
The sound that left me was a harsh wail, the pleasure so intense it hurt. Distantly, I heard Gideon curse, felt his powerful body shudder.
“You good?” he bit out, his teeth grinding.
I tried to catch my breath, my lungs expanding as much as they were able.
“Eva.” He growled my name. “Are. You. Good?”
Unable to speak, I reached for his hips, my fingers catching in his boxer briefs. I had a moment to think how hot that was, that he hadn’t bothered to undress either one of us …
Then he started fucking, his hips pistoning in a relentless tempo, his long thick cock plunging and withdrawing from root to tip in rapid-fire thrusts. Supporting his weight entirely with his arms and the tips of his toes, he powered into me, his rigid penis nailing me straight into the mattress.
I came so hard my vision went black, my body seized with pleasure so intense I was locked in it, suspended in the powerful waves of erotic sensation.
I was inundated by the ferocious surge of my climax. My skin tingled from head to toe. Gideon paused on a downstroke, grinding into me, giving my body the steely length of his penis to grasp. My sex spasmed ecstatically around that delicious hardness, gripping him hungrily.
“Fuck,” Gideon bit out, “you’re milking my dick so hard.”
I shook violently, fighting to breathe.
The moment I sagged into the mattress, replete, Gideon pulled his cock out of my trembling slit and left the bed.
Bereft, I lifted a hand to him. “Where are you going?”
“Hang on.” He shoved his boxer briefs all the way off.
He was still hard, his cock rising high and proud, slick from my orgasm—but I wasn’t wet with his.
“You didn’t come.” I was too languid to help when he stripped me of my underwear. Sliding a hand beneath my back, he lifted me and whipped my shirt over my head.
His lips brushed over my brow. “You wanted fast and rough. I want slow and sweet.”
He levered over me again, this time settling into the cradle of my open arms and legs. The moment I felt his weight, his heat, his desire, I realized how much I wanted slow and sweet, too. The tears came then, finally, freed by the heat of his passion and the warmth of his love.
“You’re everything to me,” I cried, the words choked with tears.
“Eva.”
Shifting his hips, Gideon tucked the tip of his penis into my cleft and pushed forward gently, taking time and care to fill me. His lips moved against mine, the stroke of his tongue somehow more erotic than the slide of his cock.
“Hold me,” he whispered, his arms curved beneath my shoulders and his hands cupping the back of my head.
I tightened my grip on him. His buttocks flexed against my calves as he drove into me, his sweat slicking my palms as I caressed his back.
“I love you,” he murmured, his fingertips brushing my tears. “Do you feel it?”
“Yes.”
I watched the pleasure drift over his face as he moved within me.
I held him as he groaned, his body quivering in orgasm.
I kissed the tears away when he cried silently along with me.
And I let go of my grief in the shelter of his arms, knowing that whether in joy or pain, Gideon was one with me.
“I can’t get over this place.” Cary set his hands on the railing that surrounded the wraparound deck and looked out over the water. Sunglasses shielded his eyes while the wind played with his hair. “This house is awesome. I feel like we’re miles from anyone. And the view … un-fucking-believable.”
“Right?” I leaned my butt against the railing, facing the house. Through the wall of sliding glass doors, I watched the Reyes family swarm like bees around the kitchen and great room, with Gideon held captive by my grandmother and both of my aunts.
For me, the joyous mood was tinged with poignancy. My mother had never been a part of this extended group, and now she would never have a chance. But life went on.
Two of my younger cousins chased Lucky around the sofas, while the three older ones played video games with Chris. My uncle Tony and my dad were talking in the reading nook, while my dad bounced his fussy baby niece on his knee.
Gideon was a man who feared family in a way he feared little else, and his heartbreaker of a face reflected bemusement and dismay whenever he surveyed the chaos around him. Since I knew him well, I also saw the hint of panic in his eyes, but I couldn’t save him. My grandmother wasn’t letting him out of her sight.
Cary looked over to see what had drawn my attention. “I’m waiting for your man to sneak out and run like hell.”
I laughed. “That’s why I asked Chris to come, so Gideon could have some support.”
Our group—Gideon, me, Cary, my dad, and Chris—had arrived at the beach around ten in the morning. It was a little after noon when my dad’s family was brought over from their hotel with groceries in tow, so that my grandmother could whip up her famous posole. She said it was known to soothe even the most wounded souls. Whether that was true or not, I knew firsthand that her rendition of the classic Mexican soupy stew was delicious.
“Chris is leaving him to fend for himself,” Cary drawled, “like you did.”
“What can I do? Oh my God.” I grinned. “My nana just handed him an apron.”
I’d been a little nervous when everyone showed up. I hadn’t spent much time with my dad’s family when I was little and had only made a couple trips out to Texas with him after I started at UCSD. Every time I visited with them, the Reyeses had been a bit reserved with me, which made me wonder if I looked too much like the woman they all knew had broken my dad’s heart. They had met my mother once and hadn’t approved, saying my dad was reaching too high and that his love for her wouldn’t end well.
So when my grandmother had marched right up to Gideon the moment she arrived and cupped his face in her hands, I’d held my breath right along with him.
My grandmother had brushed his hair back from his face, turned his head from side to side, and pronounced that she saw a lot of my father in him. Gideon had understood the Spanish and replied in her native tongue—he took her statement as a high compliment. My grandmother had been delighted. She’d been speaking to him in rapid-fire Spanish ever since.
“Trey called me yesterday,” Cary tossed out casually.
I looked at him. “Did he? How’d that go?”
“Did you say something to him, baby girl, to get him to reach out?”
Trying to look innocent, I asked, “Why would you think that?”
He shot me a knowing look, his mouth twisted wryly. “So you did.”
“I just told him you’re not going to wait around forever.”
“Yeah.” He tried looking innocent, too. I had to hope I pulled it off better than he did. “You know I’m not above taking a pity fuck, right? So thanks for hooking me up.”
I gave him a gentle shove on the shoulder. “You’re full of shit.”
Something had shifted for Cary in the last few weeks. He hadn’t turned to his usual self-destructive coping mechanisms and since things were going good for him without them, I was holding out hope that he wouldn’t backslide.
“True.” He flashed his brilliant grin and it was genuine, rather than the cocky façade I knew too well. “Although banging Trey is certainly something tempting to think about. Figure it’s probably tempting for him, too, so I should use that to my advantage.”
“Are you going to see each other?”
He nodded. “He’s going to come with me to the memorial at Stanton’s on Monday.”
“Oh.” I sighed, hurting. Clancy had called Gideon and passed on that information earlier in the morning.
Should I have tried to handle the memorial myself and spare Stanton? I just didn’t know. I was still trying to accept the fact that my mom was really gone. After I’d cried for hours the night before, heavy guilt had settled in. There were so many things I’d said to my mother that I regretted and could no longer take back, so many times I’d thought of her with frustration and disrespect.
Ironic, in retrospect, that her chief fault was loving me too much.
As my stepfather had loved her—inordinately.
“I’ve tried calling Stanton,” I said, “but I just get his voice mail.”
“Me, too.” Cary rubbed at his unshaven jaw. “I hope he’s okay, but I realize he’s probably not.”
“I think it might be a while before any of us are okay.”
We settled into comfortable silence for a moment. Then Cary spoke. “I was talking to your dad this morning, before we headed to the airport, about his plans to move to New York.”
My nose wrinkled. “I would love to have him near, but I can’t help thinking how bizarre it would be if he worked for Gideon.”
He nodded slowly. “You have a point.”
“What do you think?”
He shifted his body to face me. “Well, just the pregnancy part of having a kid has changed my life, right? So, multiply that by twenty-four years in your case, and I’d say a loving parent would do just about anything to make things better for their child.”
Yep, something had definitely shifted for Cary. Sometimes, you just needed a hard jolt to bump you in the right direction. For Cary, that was the thought of being a father. For me, it had been meeting Gideon. And for Gideon, it had been the possibility of losing me.
“Anyway,” Cary went on, “he was saying that Gideon offered him a housing allowance and he was thinking he’d like to stay in the apartment with me.”
“Wow. Okay.” There was a lot to process there. One, my dad was obviously taking the idea of working for Gideon in New York seriously. Two, my best friend was thinking about living separately from me. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. “I’d been worried Dad would have a hard time using that room after him and my mom … you know.”
I didn’t think I could stay in the penthouse if I didn’t have Gideon. Too much had happened between us there. I didn’t know if I could handle remembering what I no longer had.
“Yeah, I’d wondered about that, too.” Cary reached out and touched my shoulder, a simple comforting touch. “But you know, memories are all that Victor has ever really had of Monica.”
I nodded. My dad had to have wondered more than once over the years if the love had always been one-sided. After that afternoon with my mom, maybe he realized that wasn’t true. That’d be a good memory to hold on to.
“So you’re thinking about staying there,” I said. “Mom told me she’d offered you that option.”
He gave me a smile tinged with melancholy. “I’m considering it, yes. Kinda makes it easier if your dad’s going to be there, too. I warned him it was likely there’d be a baby around now and then. I got the impression he might like that.”
Looking back into the house, I saw my dad making silly faces to amuse my baby cousin. He was the only one of his siblings to have just one child, and I was an adult.
I frowned as I watched Gideon walk to the front entrance. Where was he going with an apron tied around his denim-clad hips? He opened the front door and stood unmoving for a long minute. I realized someone must have knocked, but I couldn’t see because Gideon was blocking my view. Finally, he stepped aside.
Cary looked over to see where my attention was and scowled. “What’s he doing here?”
As Gideon’s brother walked in, I wondered the same thing. Then Ireland appeared behind him, holding a gift bag.
“What’s up with the gift?” Cary asked. “An unreturnable wedding present?”
“No.” I noticed the design on the bag, which was definitely too colorful and festive for a wedding. “It’s a birthday present.”
“Oh, shit,” Cary muttered. “I totally forgot about that.”
When Gideon closed the door without his mother making an appearance, I realized Elizabeth was a no-show on her firstborn’s birthday. A potent mix of sympathy and pain swamped me and caused my fists to clench.
What the fuck was wrong with that woman? Gideon hadn’t heard from his mother since confronting her in his office. Considering what the day was, I couldn’t believe she could be so thoughtless.
It made me realize I wasn’t the only one who’d lost a mother in the past few days.
Chris stood and went to his children, hugging Christopher while Ireland hugged my husband. She smiled up at him, offering the bag. He took it and turned, gesturing toward where I stood on the deck.
Fresh and lovely in a delicately printed sundress, Ireland joined us outside. “Wow, Eva. This place is choice.”
I hugged her. “You like it?”
“What’s not to like?” Ireland hugged Cary, and then her lovely face sobered. “I’m really sorry about your mom, Eva.”
The tears that were no longer very far away stung my eyes. “Thank you.”
“I can’t even imagine,” she said. “And I don’t even like my mom right now.”
Reaching out, I touched her arm. Regardless of how I felt about Elizabeth, I wouldn’t wish the regret I had on anyone, especially Ireland. “I hope you work out whatever it is. If I had my mom back, I’d take back a lot of the things I said and did.”
And because saying that aloud made me feel like crying, I excused myself quickly and headed toward the stairs, running down them to the beach, then out to the water. I stopped when my ankles were submerged, letting the sea breeze blow the tears away.
Closing my eyes, I willed the grief back into the box I’d put it in for the day. It was Gideon’s birthday, an occasion I wanted to celebrate because it’d seen him enter the world and, eventually, my life.
I jumped when warm muscular arms slipped around my waist, gathering me back against a familiar hard body.
Gideon set his chin on the crown of my head. I felt his chest expand and contract on a deep sigh when I wrapped my arms over his.
When I pulled myself together enough to speak, I said, “I’m surprised my nana let you escape.”
He gave a short laugh. “She says I remind her of your dad—well, she reminds me of you.”
Which made it apt, I supposed, that I’d been named after her. “Because I won’t let you out of my greedy clutches?”
“Because even though she scares me, I can’t seem to walk away.”
Touched, I turned my head and rested my cheek against his heart, listening to its strong and steady beat. “I didn’t know your brother and sister were coming.”
“I didn’t, either.”
“How do you feel about Christopher being here?”
I felt him shrug. “If he’s not acting like a dick, I don’t care.”
“Fair enough.” If his brother’s unexpected appearance didn’t trouble Gideon, I wouldn’t let it bother me.
“I’ve got some things to share with you,” he said. “About Christopher. But now’s not the time.”
I opened my mouth to contradict that, but caught myself. Gideon was right. We should have renewed our vows today, surrounded by friends and family. We should be celebrating his birthday and being so joyful there wasn’t any room for sorrows and regrets. Instead, the day was shadowed by sorrow we had to hide. Still, there was no point in adding any more unpleasantness.
“I have something for you,” I told him.
“Umm … I’m tempted, angel, but we have too many people here.”
It took me a beat to understand he was teasing me. “Oh my God. You fiend.”
I reached into my pocket and wrapped my fingers around his gift, which was safely shielded by a black velvet drawstring bag. It had a nice gift box, too, but I’d elected to carry the present in my pocket, hoping to be spontaneous and give it to him when the moment was right. I didn’t want to give it to him along with his other presents.
Turning to face him as I pulled the gift out, I offered it on both open palms. “Happy birthday, ace.”
His gaze lifted from my hands to my face. There was a brightness to his eyes I saw only when I gave him something. It always made me want to give him more, give him everything. My husband so deserved to be happy. It was my life’s mission to make sure he always was.
Gideon took the pouch and untied the drawstring.
“I just want you to know,” I began, trying to cover my nervousness, “that it’s crazy difficult buying a gift for someone who has everything, including a good chunk of the island of Manhattan.”
“I wasn’t expecting anything, but I always love what you give me.”
I blew out my breath. “Well, you may not want to use it, which is totally fine. I mean, don’t feel obligated to—”
The platinum Vacheron Constantin pocket watch slid out into his waiting palm, the polished case twinkling when the sunlight hit it. Biting my lower lip, I waited for him to open it and look inside.
Gideon read the engraved words aloud. “Yours for all time, Eva.”
“It can hold a little picture over the inscription. I’d planned for that to be a photo from the renewal ceremony, but …” I cleared my throat when he looked at me with such love, it made everything flutter inside me. “It’s old school, I know. I just thought, since you wear vests, that it might be something you could use. Although I know you wear a watch on your wrist, so probably not. But—”
He kissed me, shutting me up. “I’ll treasure this. Thank you.”
“Oh.” I licked my lips, tasting him. “I’m glad. There’s a fob that goes with it, in the box.”
Placing the pocket watch carefully into its pouch, he tucked it into his pocket. “I have something for you, too.”
“Keep it clean,” I teased him back. “We’ve got an audience.”
Gideon looked over his shoulder and saw how many of our family members had stepped outside onto the deck. The caterer had stocked the outside kitchen with beverages and easy finger foods, and people were starting to poke through it all while the pork for the posole cooked in the oven.
He held out his fist, then opened it to show me the gorgeous wedding band in his palm. Large round diamonds in a channel setting circled the entire band, shooting multi-hued sparks.
My fingers covered my mouth, my eyes watering all over again. The salt-flavored breeze danced around us, carrying the plaintive cries of seagulls soaring over the waves. The rhythmic surge of the tide against the shore lapped over my feet, anchoring me in the moment.
I reached for the ring with trembling fingers.
Gideon’s hand closed up and he grinned. “Not yet.”
“What?” I pushed at his shoulder. “Don’t tease me!”
“Ah, but I always deliver,” he purred.
I glared at him. The wicked smirk faded.
His fingers brushed over my cheek. “I’m so proud to be your husband,” he said solemnly. “It’s my greatest accomplishment to have been found worthy of that honor in your eyes.”
“Oh, Gideon.” How he dazzled me. I was so overwhelmed by him, so filled by his love. “I’m the lucky one.”
“You’ve changed my life, Eva. And you did the impossible: you transformed me. I like who I am now. I never thought that would happen.”
“You were always wonderful,” I said fervently. “I loved you when I saw you. I love you more now.”
“There aren’t words to tell you what you mean to me.” He opened his hand again. “But I hope that when you see this ring on your hand, you’ll remember that you shine as brightly as diamonds in my life and you’re infinitely more precious.”
Pushing onto my toes, fighting the sinking of the wet sand, I sought out his mouth and nearly sobbed with joy when he kissed me. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”
He was smiling as he took my hand and slid the ring on my finger, nestling it next to the beautiful Asscher diamond he’d given me at our wedding.
Applause and cheers jolted both of us. We looked at the house and saw our families lined up along the railing, watching us. The children were already running down the stairs, chasing Lucky, who was eager to get to Gideon.
I understood that feeling all too well. For the rest of our lives, I would always run to him.
Taking a deep cleansing breath, I let the hope and the joy push the guilt and grief away, just for a moment.
“This is perfect,” I murmured, the words lost in the wind. No dress, no flowers, no formality or ritual. Just Gideon and me, committed to each other, with those who loved us nearby.
Gideon caught me up and spun me, making me laugh with pure pleasure.
“I love you!” I shouted, for all the world to hear.
My husband set me down and kissed me breathless. Then, with his lips to my ear, he whispered, “Crossfire.”