“You want to talk?”
His brows raise and his head tilts like I’m the crazy one.
“I have an idea. Let’s chat about our big, fat, Italian wedding. We could discuss shades of pastels? The bridesmaids dresses… Flowers? Do you like chocolate mousse or strawberry soufflé?”
A smile finally cracks. “You’re joking, right?”
“Oh no. This shit is for real. Ask my cousins. One wrong move could bring a lifetime of unhappiness. Also, we need to register at a few places for gifts.”
“How about Amazon?” As his smirk widens, so does mine.
“I think the point is to give guests proper ideas.”
“Okay, I’ll make a wish list. People can order online and have it delivered right to our house.”
“Perfect.” I roll my eyes but in truth, I’m glad we’re kidding around again.
Outside, mile after mile passes by and my thoughts turn to my family. By now, they must’ve heard the news of my death and guilt plays on my conscience. “I should call my dad.”
Suds opens one eye. “We already talked about this.”
“Can’t I just send an anonymous email?” My heart constricts at the pain I’m causing everyone.
“Sugar. You need to stay dead. Once we’re sure the hit has been canceled, like Lazarus, you can miraculously arise.”
“But my poor Mom. I can’t do this to her.” Tears well. “I should’ve thought this through better.”
“She’ll feel a lot worse if someone actually shoots you.” He glares, his patience not what it usually is with me which is not fair.
“Well, I don’t like being dead. It sucks.”
“You got that right.” He grabs my hand, kisses my fingers, and waits for my eyes to meet his.
“Fuck, Sam. If anything ever really happened to you…” His voice tightens and his eyes shine.
Sudden insight flashes and my brain cells fire. “Oh my God. I am such an idiot. It must’ve been hard to see me die, even if it was fake.”
“Yeah. It was, babe. I love you so fucking much. I got no business trying to guard you.”
“Tough guy, you always protect me. I trust you with my life.” His cheeks in my hand, I gaze into his beautiful brown eyes, and will him to believe me.
“Nothin’ personal, sugar, but you are a walking, talking, time bomb. Damn, I saw you take a bullet… Hell, what if some day it’s real and I’m not fast enough?”
At first, I don’t respond because it’s true. We both chose to work in this dangerous field. All we can do is train to be as prepared as we can.
“I worry about you, too, Sebs.”
He shakes his head. “Ain’t the same. Listen up. When we arrive back in New York, we still have no idea if Patten Securities has been compromised so I’m calling in outside reinforcements. I’ll be damned if I’ll let anything happen to you.”
By the time we hit Chicago, my right butt cheek is permanently asleep. In the rest area, I pound on it with a fist until it tingles. Then, after a slice of cardboard pizza and a cup of coffee-colored water, we stand in line for home. Thank God we got tested for the virus before we left. With antivirals in our bloodstream we should be safe. Regardless, the driver insists we wear a mask before we enter. A few people grumble but Coyote made sure we were prepared.
While we wait, a woman rocks a baby in her arms and my internal clock gongs. I wonder if me and Suds will ever have kids. We follow her into the bus, she settles at the front, and we find two seats near the middle.
Stretching, my husband tucks a finger under my chin. “You look like you lost a best friend, which is me, so that can’t be it.”
“Do you think we’ll ever have children?”
He nods. “Sure we will. It’ll all turn around. You jes’ got to have a little faith.”
