I scowl at the idea. "Any boy who shows up at my door will need to present a full background check, three character references, and a personal essay on his intentions." I pause. "Minimum."
Beck stares at me, then grins. "You've already given this some thought."
"Extensively."
He laughs. "God help whoever falls in love with your kid."
The laughter fades between us, but its warmth lingers. Settles into something quieter, something that opens a door I wasn't expecting.
I'm already there in my head, living some future that doesn't exist yet, one that includes a daughter with Avery's eyes and my stubbornness. That fleeting image squeezes my heart and fills me with the absolute certainty that I do anything to keep mychild safe. The same certainty I feel about its mother. About the life we're building.
A family. Mine.
The thought settles into my chest with a weight that's almost physical. I let myself sit with it for a moment—the magnitude, the impossibility, the thing I never thought I'd have.
My mother would have loved this. Elizabeth, who painted flowers, tended her garden, and dreamed of grandchildren. Who used to tell me I'd understand someday what it meant to love someone more than myself.
She would have loved Avery. Would have seen in her the same light I see. The warmth, the strength. The way she loves without reservation and forgives without condition.
And my mother's parents, the Xaviers in Boston with their old money and older pride. They'll never know any of it. They cut off their daughter when she was young and foolish enough to fall in love with a Florida fisherman. They chose their reputation over their own blood, and my mother died with a broken heart because of it.
I don't know if they're even still alive. For most of my life, I've told myself I don't care to find out. That they're ghosts to me. Less than ghosts. At least ghosts have the decency to haunt you.
I push the thought away. That old bitterness doesn't belong in what I'm building now.
"I need to go." Beck is gathering his briefcase, checking his watch. "Legal meeting in twenty." He pauses at the door. "Thanks for telling me. And I'm glad you're letting Rennick go. It's the right decision."
"I know."
"Avery's good for you, man. Don't fuck it up."
"Solid legal counsel as always."
He snorts and disappears through the door. I follow him out to Lily's desk. She looks up from her keyboard with a cautious smile.
"Gabe Noble should be here shortly," I tell her. "Send him in when he arrives."
"Of course, Mr. Baine."
I return to my office, but I don't sit. Too much restless energy running through me, too many plans taking shape. Avery needs time away from the press, the fittings, the wedding machinery that's been grinding us both down. She needs calm, and space to breathe without the weight of expectation pressing down on her.
I can give her that. I will give her that.
And maybe something more. Something I've been turning over since last night, since she looked at me with that ache in her voice and wished for the impossible.
A few minutes later, the door opens and Gabe steps in. He moves the way he always does, purposeful and confident, his military bearing never fully shed even after years in the private sector. We've been through enough together that he doesn't bother with pleasantries.
"You said it was urgent?"
"Not urgent, exactly. Time-sensitive."
“Is this about what happened with Avery yesterday? Everything okay?”
“Everything’s good. Kelsey was great with her yesterday. Good call putting her on Avery’s detail. I need your help with something else.” I gesture to the chairs and he takes a seat. "How quickly can you coordinate security for an impromptu trip for Avery and me?”
“I’m ready now. Just tell me what you need and when.”
“Day after tomorrow, flying out in the morning and back three days later."
