Page 74 of Protected from Reprisal
Indy beams at Eden. “That’s great news, Eeenie. I can’t wait to be an uncle.” Then he gives Rafe a quick chin lift before adding with a smirk, “You ready if it’s a girl?”
Rafe chuckles. “Sure. She won’t be allowed to date, that’s all.”
“Or go anywhere without security?” Tyler asks, chuckling.
“Possibly,” Rafe concedes. “But we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
“Congrats, you guys,” I call over. Lifting my glass, I nod at both of them. “I’m really happy for you.”
As everyone else joins in with their congratulations, my attention moves to Yara again. She’s smiling, enjoying this special moment, her cheeks pink with pleasure and her eyes sparkling.
I’ve never thought about having kids before, aside from brief flickers of thought whenever someone I know has a baby, and I always toss aside the idea as something that’s not for me.
But with Yara, maybe it could be.
With Yara, maybe I want all the things I didn’t think I wanted before.
An apartment that feels like home, instead of just a place to live.
A lifetime of special moments like this.
A wife to protect with my life.
And maybe even a family of our own one day, whether it’s one with pets or children.
“I’m so glad you asked me to come,” Yara says to me. “This is even better than I imagined.”
My heart swells.
“Yeah,” I reply. “I’m so glad you came, too.”
CHAPTER 15
YARA
By the timewe get back to Ace’s apartment, I’m feeling the happiest I’ve been in ages.
So far, it’s been as close to a perfect day as I can remember. First, spending a lazy morning watching the Thanksgiving Day Parade and picking our favorite floats and performances—mine was the Rockettes, who I’ve loved ever since my parents took me to the Christmas show at Radio City Music Hall when I was a kid, and Ace’s was the last float, carrying Santa. Then we worked on our contribution to Thanksgiving dinner, which was homemade stuffing and fresh-baked rolls, while watching part of the National Dog Show.
“I always wanted a dog,” Ace told me as the sporting group came prancing into the ring. “We had one when I was a kid. Charlie. He was a Golden Retriever. I loved that dog.”
I didn’t have to ask why he didn’t have one while he served. With all the travel involved, he would have had to board the dog more often than not. But now… “Have you thought about gettinga dog since you joined Blade and Arrow?” I asked. “I know the other B and A branches have them.”
“Not really,” he admitted. “I guess I kind of gave up on the idea. But—” His expression turned thoughtful. “It’s something to look into.” He stirred the stuffing a few times before asking, “Wouldyouwant a dog?”
“We could never have one when I was a kid,” I replied. “With my dad’s job, we never knew which country he’d be sent to next. But I think… I might like it. A big, goofy, friendly dog like that.” I gestured with my chin at a Golden Retriever, named Kingston, rounding the ring, his tail wagging merrily. “I think I might like that.”
Like I’ve been doing more and more lately, I let my thoughts turn to the future. To a future with Ace, more specifically, and a dog we raise together. We would take our dog everywhere—on hikes, trips to visit our friends, to dog-friendly restaurants—and maybe we could even train him to be a therapy dog and take him to the VA hospital to visit with patients.
“Do you want to go straight to bed?” Ace asks. He checks the three locks on the front door before turning to me. “Or would you like to stay up a little while to watch some TV?”
“Go to bed?” I glance at my watch. It’s only eight-thirty. Though I don’t stay up as late as I did in my twenties, it’s a bit early to be thinking about bed. Besides, I have other ideas for the rest of the night, and they most definitelydon’tinvolve sleeping.
“I just thought you might be tired,” he replies. “It’s been a busy day. With all the cooking?—”
I smile. “Ace. I barely cooked. Mostly, I just sat at the counter and watched. So far today, I’ve watched TV, eaten, eaten some more, and then showed everyone how terrible at bowling I am. I wouldn’t consider any of that to be strenuous.”
“You weren’t terrible at bowling.” He loops his arm around my waist. “You were fine.”
