Stone retention walls formed numerous terraces along the slopes behind her house. The beds overflowed with various kinds of greenery, flowers painted the hillside in bright shades of pinks, purples, and reds, vines spilled over some of the walls, littered with what looked like pumpkins and other squash ready to be harvested. Before us, at the base of the slope, stood a glass greenhouse.
“Anna, stop. I’m here to help, not judge.” I said. “I can only imagine how difficult it is to do all this while pregnant.”
She gave me a sheepish grin as she opened the door and led me inside. I was stunned by how warm it was inside compared to the bite of the icy outside air.
“I’m just glad the morning sickness is mostly past,” she said, reaching for a large pot, and I hurried over to her, taking it before she could get far.
“You’re not supposed to be lifting heavy things. That’s why I’m here,” I chided, and she snickered before pointing me to where she wanted it.
“Was it bad?” I asked as I set it on top of the wooden table. My gaze fell over the grain of the wood before I slid my hand over the rough surface, something humming in response beneath my skin. My eyes lit up when I realized the table was alive, roots anchored into the soil at the base.
“The worst,” she admitted. “The mint tea helped some. That night I came to sit with you while Damien and the others were on patrol was one of the few nights I wasn’t glued to the toilet. I don’t understand why they call it morning sickness. It pops up at all hours of the day and night.”
I grimaced. “That’s gotta be rough.”
“It was. You should shed that coat,” she said, nodding to my jacket. “You’ll be sweating in here in no time. There’s a coat hook by the door.”
I slipped out of my jacket and hung it up before returning to her. My eyes passed over the lush greenery vining along the walls and ceilings from pots nestled in macrame nets. “It’s so beautiful in here.”
Her smile widened, her sepia-brown cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. “Thank you. Vincent had it built for me twenty years ago when I kept complaining about gardening in the snow with low tunnels.”
“Low tunnels?” I asked.
“They’re basically hoops that you run white fabric over to protect the plants from the frost. They work, but they can be a bit of a pain.”
“Talkin’ shit about me?” Vincent said, and we turned to find him leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. “And here I was coming to help.”
Anna snickered as he approached, and he swept her up into a deep embrace. “Your meeting over already?”
Vincent nodded and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead before kneeling to press a kiss to her slightly swollen belly. My heart squeezed at the sight of it, of their happiness caressing my skin in warm, inviting waves.
“How did it go?” I asked tentatively.
“Not as well as we hoped,” Vincent admitted, rising back to his feet. “James is still trying to recover the footage, and we’ve got no new leads on how Cole escaped.”
Unease swelled in the pit of my stomach. Damien had been stressing over Cole’s escape, and I hated how much time he’d dedicated to hunting him down the past couple of weeks—how little sleep he seemed to get.
“No point in worrying over it. He’s not getting anywhere near you,” Vincent assured me, and I smiled at the determination in his eyes.
“I’m not afraid of him,” I said, and while I feared the words would feel like a lie, they didn’t. Iwasn’tafraid of him. If anything, I’d grown eager to find him, to continue searching his memories. Whether it would be a pleasant experience for him or not, I’d yet to decide, though there was a part of me that didn’t want to hold back, that didn’t care if it hurt him.
His pain would taste delicious.
“What all is on the list to harvest today?” Vincent asked, and I blinked, drawn away from the venomous voice.
Anna’s dark brows rose. “You’re helping us? Aren’t you on patrol tonight?”
“I’ve got a few hours before my shift. I don’t want you pushing yourself too hard.”
“I’m perfectly capable of gardening,” she huffed. “Dr. Johnson said it’s good for me to get some light exercise.”
“And what did he say about how swollen your ankles got the other day?” he countered, cocking an eyebrow.
“My blood pressure was fine this morning,” she said crossing her arms. “I was just on my feet a bit too long that day.”
“Just take it slow, please,” Vincent said, leaning his forehead against hers, and her shoulders slumped as she rolled her eyes.
“Yes, Daddy,” she teased.
