Grizz is sitting in an empty lobby, the chair dwarfed under his frame.
“Did you scare off my other patients, Boyd?” the doctor asks him with a fond smile.
He shrugs, pretending to be guilty. “Must have been something I said.”
She huffs out a laugh. “Jennifer, call me if you need anything. Boyd, take good care of her.”
“Of course.” Grizz looks at me, his eyes softening in a way that squeezes my heart.
As soon as the doctor leaves, his expression changes to concern. “How did it go?”
Because I’m suddenly overflowing with emotion and can’t speak, I hold out the picture that’s still clutched tightly in my fingers. Grizz looks back and forth between the sonogram image and me, in awe, unable to speak.
“It’s a girl,” I whisper.
“A girl!” The next thing I know, my feet are dangling several inches from the ground, and Grizz is spinning me around. I’m pressed against his hard chest, secure in his strong arms, surrounded by the clean, masculine scent of him. Too quickly, he sets me down and smooths my wig and clothing, looking stricken. “Sorry! Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
I’m laughing, happy to share my excitement with someone, though I can’t help but wish I were still in his embrace. “I’m fine. And the doctor said the baby and I are both doing well.”
“That’s great news. Excellent!” He’s nearly giddy—as giddy as a six-foot-five former Marine tough guy gets.
We spend another joyful moment before I tuck the picture into my bag, along with the prenatal vitamins and the card that contains the doctor’s contact information.
As soon as we step out onto the street, Grizz switches into patrol mode, his eyes scanning the environment in a way Viper would appreciate.
The cold mountain air bites at my cheeks, but I barely feel it. I’m so wrapped up in my thoughts, I also don’t see the blur of movement until it’s about to collide with me.
Grizz is faster. “Whoa, buddy!”
Right before the child crashes into my leg, my guardian grabs him by the shoulders, bringing him safely to a halt.
A small boy, maybe eight years old, stares up at us, wide-eyed. “Sorry! I wasn’t watching?—”
“T.J.!” a woman’s voice calls. “Slow down, son!”
She jogs up, slightly out of breath when she reaches us. The woman looks maybe a few years older than me, with long dark hair pulled back in a thick ponytail, jeans, worn boots, and a navy blue jacket.
She looks between her son, me in my wig and glasses, and the big man holding us both. “Are you okay?” she asks me first. Her voice is warm and concerned, and there doesn’t seem to be anything suspicious about her or the incident.
“I’m fine,” I say. “He just took me by surprise.” Grizz’s hand is unwavering at the small of my back.
“T.J., apologize properly,” the woman prompts.
“I’m really sorry,” the boy says solemnly. “I was racing to the corner and didn’t see you.”
I give him a smile. “It’s okay. No harm done.”
The woman extends her hand. “I’m Elena. Elena Ramirez.”
After hesitating a fraction of a second, I shake her hand. Though I can’t imagine this woman is in any way dangerous, I stick to my alias. “Jennifer Smith.”
“Nice to meet you, Jennifer. Are you new in town?”
“Just visitingfor a while,” I hedge.
She offers me a smile. “Well, welcome to Moon Ridge, Jennifer. I hope I’ll see you around.”
Something twists inside me. I want to sayyes, I hope so, too.As Kira. As someone who could have friends again.
