I nod. Then, “What’s the other reason?”

“What?”

“You said rethinking your decision to stay on the reservation was one of the reasons you’re here. What’s the other?”

He stares into the fire, and something in the set of his jaw gives it away. Still, I won’t say it first. I can’t.

Frey lets another long moment pass. “You,” he says at last. “I came back for you.”

His words hang in the air. They may as well be in blazing neon over the fireplace.

I don’t know what to say. So, for once, I exercise restraint and say nothing.

Frey looks up at me from his seat on the couch. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Still, no intelligible response springs to mind.

Frey smiles. “I’ve rendered you speechless.”

I drop down beside him. “You have.”

He releases a deep breath. “I realize you and Stephen have gotten close. But he’s human. Do you really think you can make it work for the long term?”

“Can anyone make anything work long term? My parents are the only couple their age I know that have been together as long as they have. And that wasn’t easy. I remember how hard it was after my brother died. And there were other times. Things my parents didn’t know I knew. My father had an affair once. I thought he’d broken my mother’s heart into so many pieces, she’d never be able to put it back together. But they survived. They got stronger.”

“Because they loved each other.” Frey’s soft voice is like a caress. “No one exasperates me the way you do. Or tests me the way you do. Or completes me the way you do. You have the most generous heart of anyone I know. I want John-John to learn from you. I can’t think of a better role model. It took being away from you to make me realize how much I need you to be part of our lives.”

His words slow, then stop abruptly. He’s facing away from me as if afraid to see how I’m reacting. He shouldn’t worry. I’ve never been so touched. I turn his chin gently so I can read his eyes.

“I will always be a part of John-John’s life. As long as you let me. I love that little boy.” I let my hand drop and the motion makes light reflect off Sani’s ring, a spark that seems to penetrate the haze of confusion whirling in my head.

“You and I have been close for a long time. We’ve been through a lot together. You are the one I go to when I’m in trouble and you’ve never turned me away. Maybe you think you’re in love with me. But you’re emotional now because of John-John and the huge responsibility you’ve taken on.”

Frey stirs, ready to respond, but I have to get this out.

I place a finger over his lips. “It would be easy after a day like today to jump into a relationship with you. You and John-John are the family I can never have. But I want more. I want a partner who loves me the way my father loves my mother. Is it Stephen? I don’t know yet. It’s still too new. But I don’t think it’s you. Not now. Not yet.”

The corners of Frey’s mouth turn up in a wry smile. He kisses the tip of my finger. “Should I have started off with ‘I love you’?”

“It would have helped.”

He puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me close. I don’t resist but let my head rest against his chest. “Does that mean you’ll still go on play dates this week with John-John and me?”

I close my eyes, breathing in his smell, listening to his heart, nestling closer. Feeling safe. “Try and stop me.”

REMARKABLY, WE MANAGE TO GET THROUGH THE NEXT few days of Frey’s visit without another bombshell being dropped. I handle my office thing in the mornings (even fugitives lay low during the holidays), and the afternoons are spent showing John-John around San Diego. He loves the ocean, is spellbound by it. The weather cooperates by giving us two afternoons of bright sun so we can gather seashells and make sand castles. By the end of each day, his little fists are full of treasures that he can take home with him. Tiny shells, glass polished by the sea, a perfect starfish. In my mind’s eye, I picture these prizes on the bookcase in his living room, next to the pictures of his mother, and bits of rocks and feathers he’d gathered on his daily rides. It makes me happy to know this visit will become part of his memories, too.

But then I am alone, sitting in my car, staring at the ring on my hand. I’ve just dropped Frey and John-John off at the airport. We parted with hugs and kisses and, like another family departure just a while ago, promises of visits to come.

Another family.

I like the sound of that.

The airport security guard is approaching, waving and telling me to move on. It snaps me back and I put the car in gear. Time to get back to another reality.

Stephen will be home tomorrow.

CHAPTER 10

THE COTTAGE IS SPIT-SHINED. CLEAN SHEETS ON the bed, fresh towels in the bathroom, some cheese and bread in the refrigerator in case Stephen is hungry, a new exotic preparation guaranteed to make that big moment even bigger sitting on the nightstand.

I’m looking at that now, shaking my head. This may be overkill. We’ve never needed any outside stimulant to make that big moment bigger. I’m not sure we could take it if it did.

I slide it into a nightstand drawer, feeling foolish for having spent money on such nonsense.

Besides, I’m more than ready for Stephen. We’ve been apart for two weeks.

For the tenth time in as many minutes, I glance at my watch. I’m picking him up at the airport at two. It’s one. I’m nervous—no, it’s more like anxious, and I have no idea why. Since we met, we’ve been inseparable. Only when he’s sent on assignment, like this one with the president, have we slept apart. When he’s in town, we’re either at my place or his. Every night.

I suppose we’re in that first flush, “can’t get enough of each other” phase. We met under very unusual circumstances. Stephen had been kidnapped by the tribunal—still not exactly sure what that bunch is all about—to ensure my presence at a trial where I had to defend myself against a charge of murder. The victim? The black witch Belinda Burke. It didn’t exactly turn out the way my “prosecutor” intended. In fact, when all the facts were known, he was in as much trouble as I was. But as is so often the case with otherworldly beings, it didn’t end with a verdict of not guilty. That same prosecutor attacked Stephen and me when we returned to Earth. We killed him together.

That’s what I meant when I told Frey a life-and-death battle against a godlike demon tends to forge bonds. During the entire time we were together on that “adventure,” Stephen didn’t flinch or turn away from what I was. And when we were safe, back on Earth, he stayed with me.

Is that love?

Yes.

I think so . . .

I don’t know.

Damn it, Frey.

I give myself a mental thump. Bringing John-John here, giving me a glimpse of what the three of us could share, has burrowed into my subconscious like a tick. Frey is smart. He knew exactly what he was doing. After that one conversation, he never again mentioned love or sharing a life with him. He didn’t need to. The time he and John-John and I spent together was magical. It implanted the notion that it was possible for me to have a family, a family that included a child. A notion I’d given up on.

Cunning.

From downstairs, the trill of my cell phone.

I jump up and run to get it.

“Hey, you,” a familiar voice says. “Where are you? I thought you were coming to pick me up?”

I shoot a startled glance toward the mantel clock. It’s after two. Shit.

“Oh my god, Stephen. I’m sorry. My watch must have stopped.” A lie. I was lost in my daydream.

“Well, get over here, girl. I can’t wait to see you.” A pause. “No. I have a better idea. I’ll take a cab. It’ll be faster.”

“Are you sure?”

“Just make sure you’re naked and ready when I get there.”