"Unless you want him in the guest room."
"The guest room is full of server equipment."
"The guest room was supposed to be a home office."
"Your home office became a home server farm." I raise an eyebrow. "Not my fault you need more computing power than the Pentagon."
"My quantum algorithms require significant processing capacity." She's smiling, though. The same argument we've had a dozen times, well worn and comfortable. "Besides, the real office is almost ready. Once the satellite team is up and running, I'll move everything there."
"Including the four backup servers you installed in the closet?"
"Those stay. Emergency redundancy."
"You've become a prepper."
"I've become pragmatic." She swings her leg over my hips, settling into my lap. The flannel rides up her thighs. "Eighteen months with a tactical planner will do that to a person."
"Eighteen months?" I set my coffee aside, my hands finding her hips. "We're doing math now?"
"We're doing whatever I say we're doing." She leans down, her hair falling around us. "It's my anniversary."
I flip us, pinning her beneath me, and her laugh turns into a gasp as my mouth finds her neck.
"Boone." Her fingers thread through my hair. "We have things to do today."
"We have time."
"The cinnamon rolls are going to burn."
"I turned off the oven when I heard you singing."
She pulls back to look at me. "When did you do that?"
"When your breathing changed five minutes ago." I kiss the corner of her mouth. "Surveillance is my job, remember?"
Her laugh is bright and warm, and when I silence it with a proper kiss, she wraps herself around me and lets me take my time.
The lodge ischaos when we arrive.
Elena Cross, now a year and a half old, is toddling across the main room with Deck in pursuit. Vivian watches from the couch, one hand on her belly where Cross baby number two is making its presence known. In the kitchen, Cade is orchestrating some kind of elaborate meal prep while Natalie reads to little Marcus from a picture book about mountain animals.
Jake Hendrix, Wolfe and Sadie's son, is attempting to build a tower out of tactical manuals while his father watches with rare amusement. Sadie is very pregnant with their second child, due any week now, and she's commandeered the most comfortable chair in the room.
This is my family now. Loud and messy and nothing like the orderly life I planned for myself.
I wouldn't trade it for anything.
"Boone!" Elena spots me and changes course, her chubby legs carrying her across the room at impressive speed. I scoop her up before she can crash into the coffee table.
"Hey, little commander." She giggles at the nickname, grabbing my beard with sticky fingers. "Where's your mom hiding the good snacks?"
"Kitchen," she says solemnly. "But Daddy says no cookies before dinner."
"Daddy is very wise."
Deck reaches us, slightly out of breath. "She's been asking for you all day. I think she has a tactical proposal."
"Does she?"
