Eventually, I realize I’m drifting on the edge of sleep. Let myself believe, just for an instant, that we can have this. That it can be okay.
And if it’s not… I’ll deal with it in the morning.
CHAPTER 20
DAMON
Sunlight spillsin through the windows, catching the steam rising from Mia’s coffee. She’s wearing my shirt, the fabric swallowing her small frame, sleeves pushed up to her elbows.
The sight does something to my chest, a strange warmth settling there. Beside her, Emma and Ella argue over who gets the last piece of toast.
Zane sits at the head of the table, leaning back in his chair, sipping his coffee. Asher is unusually quiet, watching Mia with a pensive expression as he picks at his eggs. I don’t know what’s going on in his head, but I know he’s thinking too much. The tension in his shoulders is hard to miss, though he tries to play it off when Emma shoves a piece of toast his way with a triumphant grin.
I take a sip of my coffee, letting the conversation wash over me. It’s strange, this feeling in my chest. I’m light, at ease. When was the last time I felt like this? Like I belonged to something, or someone? Like there was something worth holding onto?
Mia catches me watching her and gives me a small smile. It’s nothing special, just a quick curve of her lips before she looks away, but it settles deep in my gut.
I clear my throat, forcing my attention back to my plate. I should be more cautious. This—whatever this is—can't last. Jason is still out there. The job isn’t done.
But for a few stolen moments, I let myself enjoy the illusion of normal. Because damn, it feels good.
Later that afternoon, we’re out by the tree line, reinforcing the perimeter with additional motion sensors. The lake house is remote, but that doesn’t mean it’s impenetrable. Jason proved that at the last safehouse.
Zane’s ahead of me, driving stakes into the dirt to mount the new cameras, his movements controlled and efficient. Asher’s beside me, running wire to the receivers, but his mind’s clearly somewhere else.
I finally break the silence. “So, when were you planning on telling us?”
Asher doesn’t pretend not to know what I’m talking about. He exhales sharply, gaze fixed on the equipment in his hands. “Didn’t see the point. I already signed the contract.”
“Dubai,” I acknowledge. “Is that still happening?”
“Yes,” Asher says, looking away. But he doesn’t sound so sure anymore.
“You really think you can walk away from this?” I ask. “From her?”
His eyes flash to mine, something dangerous lurking beneath his usual easygoing mask. “This was never supposed to be permanent.”
Zane adjusts a motion sensor, securing it into place while Asher double-checks the signal range. I tighten the wiring, watching them both out of the corner of my eye.
“Feels like old times,” Zane remarks.
Asher huffs. “Except back then, we weren’t babysitting a stubborn woman and her two mini-mes.”
I smirk. “And back then, we had worse rations.”
Zane snorts. “Speak for yourself. I’d take MREs over Mia’s instant coffee any day.”
Asher chuckles but doesn’t add anything.
I lean against a tree, arms crossed. “Remember that week-long stakeout outside Kabul? The one where we had to sleep in shifts in that burned-out compound?”
Zane nods, stretching his back. “Yeah. And the damn goats kept giving away our position.”
Asher actually laughs, shaking his head. “You and Zane were ready to strangle that farmer.”
“He was feeding intel to the wrong side,” Zane says. “Or just had bad luck.”
I shake my head. “I ever tell you what happened after we wrapped that mission?”
