The words land harder than she realizes. I choke up, so I just nod.
She leaves, door clicking shut behind her, and I stand in shock.
Underworld shadows still sit on my monitors. O'Malley punishments aren't over. Finn's silence hasn't broken.
But tonight, Brenna wants my wife at her table.
I grab my phone off the counter, thumb hovering over Valentina'scontact, my pulse running too fast for a man who swears he doesn't get cornered.
"Permanent fixture," I mutter to myself, smiling. Then I hit the call button. It connects on the second ring.
Her voice barrels in, teasing, "What happened? Who died?"
My lips twitch. "Good afternoon to you, too, Minx."
She chirps, "You never call me in the middle of the day unless there's a crisis."
I say, leaning back in my chair. "There is. We're going to dinner."
Excitement hits her voice. "Dinner? As in food? In public? Together?"
"That is normally what the word means."
She sputters, then mutters something filthy in Italian under her breath. The language only makes my blood heat. She asks, "Where are we going?"
Anxiety leaps into my gut. I try to stay calm. "Finn and Brenna's."
Dead silence fills the line.
I check the phone to make sure the call hasn't dropped. "You still there?"
She answers in a low, tight voice, "Yes. You just shorted out my brain. Did you say Finn and Brenna's?"
My lips twitch. "Yep. Dinner at their place. Tonight at six, and we can't be late. Brenna wants to meet you."
"She what?"
I inform, "She came by my place. She isn't thrilled that she heard about our marriage from everyone except me."
Valentina cautiously asks, "So she's okay with me?"
My stomach flutters with nerves. I joke, "She ordered me to bring my wife to dinner so she could decide for herself whether to bury you or adopt you."
A strangled sound cracks down the line. "Those aren't comforting options."
I chuckle. "Minx, she wants you there. She wants to meet you."
Valentina blurts out, "What about Finn? Does he want me there?"
I collect my thoughts, then answer, "He'll deal with it."
"That sounds optimistic," she mutters, with hurt in her voice.
"Have I ever lied to you?"
"Yes."
I smirk. "Recently?"
