by Ciara Shayee
That said, as every minute passed in her company, he found himself more and more enamoured, unable to stop his mind from wondering whether she felt the same way he did.
Wondering if she ever would.
~ oOo ~
Meanwhile, at a nearby safe house…
Ryan sighed, throwing his head back against the leather sofa. “Are you kidding?”
A frustrated huff came through the phone in his hand. “Look, I’ve got a lot of red tape to get through, all right? It’s not as easy as just saying, ‘off you go, then!’”
Riley’s explanation didn’t come close to easing Ryan’s annoyance. Though the reasons for it had been explained—he was safer in the UK with Smith on the loose in the US—Ryan hadn’t fully realised all of the implications and restrictions that came with being placed in Witness Protection; being unable to re-join Grace and Indie was the one he disagreed with the most. Once his leg had healed up enough for him to travel, he’d been flown to the UK under guard and holed up in the middle of nowhere. Now he knew he’d been just hours from the girls all along, he was even more frustrated by the prolonged separation.
Being left out of Smith’s punishment…that had also rankled, but he was trying to let his annoyance go.
“I’ll do my best and push the issue, but, Ryan, this might take days, rather than hours.”
Ryan promised—despite how much it made his chest ache to do so—that he’d stay put; for now, at least. Riley, in turn, promised to speed the process along as quickly as he was able so that Ryan could lose Jeremy as his constant sidekick to join Indie and Grace. All the time he was under the protection of the FBI, and while they were still wrapping their case against Garrett Smith and any accomplices, it would be highly irresponsible of him to potentially lead anyone to the girls by insisting he be allowed to visit them before Riley gave him the go ahead.
It didn’t matter that Smith was dead, though Ryan did feel a jolt of satisfaction to know he could never again hurt Indie or Grace, or the sweet babies.
Ryan knew this.
But he didn’t like it, not one little bit.
Every time he thought about Indie and Marley, and the sweet new baby she’d recently given birth to, his lips tipped up into an involuntary grin before falling when he realised that he couldn’t see the little girl’s sweet smiles or cuddle her new baby brother.
And Grace…
His heart hurt when he thought of her. He missed her dry humour and her soft smile. Every night he dreamed of being able to hold her and run his fingers through her hair, of being able to tease smiles onto her lips and laughter from her soul.
Ryan had never felt this way before—about anyone.
This was why he agreed to stay put and do as Riley told him. He was all-too-aware that Riley was only allowing him to stay in England after his escapades with Jeremy because he’d explained how badly he needed to see the girls again. As much as it bothered him to know they were just a couple of miles away in their homes, Ryan couldn’t risk pissing Riley off and getting himself sent back to the States.
The stern FBI agent was his only hope at being able to stay here long-term, after all.
Still, as he joined Jeremy for dinner a few hours later and obsessively checked his pay-as-you-go mobile phone for news from Riley—of which there was none—Ryan was undeniably restless and cranky. The FBI agent instinctively knew he wasn’t in the mood for teasing and Ryan returned to his room as soon as he’d picked at his meal enough to realise he wasn’t the slightest bit hungry. He flopped onto his creaky bed and stared at the off-white ceiling with his hands folded behind his head and his chest aching with a pain he wasn’t prepared to accept for what it was just yet. His grey-blue eyes danced toward the clock on the wall beside the door.
8:44pm.
The waiting game continued.
chapter twenty-nine
“Sweet dreams only, Little Sweet. Promise?”
Marley grinned sleepily, nodding. “Pinky promise, La—yawn—ker.”
It made Laker a little wistful for the way she used to say his name, now that she’d started saying it correctly. Her sweet voice calling out ‘Waker’ for the first time would always be one of his most treasured memories.
“Good.” Laker gently tucked in Mr. Bunny beside her, making sure the covers were nice and tight around her legs like she preferred, before turning to leave on tiptoes. He didn’t expect to see the dark silhouette of a body in the doorway.
“Holy shit.”
“Sorry!” Indie held her hands up, wincing. “I didn’t mean to make you jump.”
“That’s okay,” Laker sighed, grinning when he realised it was Indie. “Everything all right?”
She nodded, her eyes darting between Marley, already fast asleep and snoring, and Laker. Marley insisted he be the one to read her a bedtime story and he’d been far too happy to even consider saying ‘no’. Without waking Marley, Laker managed to creep from the room, joining Indie in the hallway.
“Where’s the little man?” he whispered, edging down the stairs behind her. He focused on the swish of her ponytail instead of the pain it caused in his side. Laker made it to the bottom with a soft puff of relief; it hadn’t been as bad as the way up. He’d carried Marley, knowing it was stupid. He’d missed her so much, he wanted to hold onto her forever.
“Right here,” Indie said quietly, a smile in her voice. They walked into the living room together, Laker immediately spotting Bodhi. He was in some sort of nest-shaped cushion on the coffee table, chubby legs kicking above the edges, soft coos making Laker grin. “This,” she murmured, touching the side of the baby seat. “Is the best invention ever,” she told him, kneeling beside Bodhi in his nest. Taking a seat on the edge of the nearest sofa, Laker felt tears sting his eyes as he watched Indie tickle her son’s sides, leaning in to kiss his head. He had her hair; her natural colour, anyway.
“What is it?”
“I can’t remember the name, but it’s American, apparently. Dad said Carl-Roman had one as a baby and it was a godsend. Figured we’d try it, and so far, Bodhi is a definite fan.”
Basically, it looked like a pool noodle looped round and joined at the bottom, with a cushioned piece of fabric underneath for the baby to lie on. It did look comfortable, Laker had to admit. And Bodhi definitely seemed to like his nest well enough. Saying that, from what Laker had heard and seen so far, he was a pretty content baby anyway.
“Did you enjoy seeing everyone?” Indie asked softly, pulling Laker’s thoughts away from the squirming bundle of joy in front of him.
“I did,” he admitted easily. “It was really great seeing Nonna and Nonno.”
“They’re so lovely, Laker. You’re very lucky to have them.” She laughed, then. “Marley adopted them, did you see? She adores Enrico; even calls him ‘Nonno,’ and Contessa, ‘Nonna’.”
“I heard that, yeah,” Laker chuckled, resting back against the cushions. “They love her, too. I’ve been informed I need to bring you out to Rome, stat. Something about Nonna promising to show Marley the pool?”
Indie smiled fondly, taking Bodhi from his nest as he began to fuss. She sat on the sofa beside Laker. “She’s obsessed with the idea of going swimming.”
“Well, you just let me know when you’re ready and we’ll go for a holiday in Rome. I’ll show you all the sights, Marley can swim in the pool as much as she likes, and my little buddy here can tag along, too.”
Watching Laker lean over to speak to Bodhi, Indie realised…
“You haven’t held him yet, have you?”
“Ah, no. Everyone else was too busy hogging him.”
Indie laughed lightly, but it was true. She felt as though she’d barely held Bodhi all day. Everyone had wanted to kiss his little head and feel the warmth of his tiny body. Reagan had shown him to all the guests—Marley at his side repeatedly pointing to Bodhi’s head as she introduced her family and friends to ‘baby Bodhi.’
“Here, do you think you’ll be okay? I don’t want h
im to hurt your side.”
“Quit your fussing, woman, and give him here.”
As Indie settled the soft, warm weight of Bodhi against his chest, Laker tucked him close, suddenly awash with emotion as he stared down into his wide-eyed face. After his nap, she’d dressed him in a sweet pair of mustard yellow sweatpants with grey and white cuffs, and a pair of brown, faux-suede sneakers. On his top half, he wore a navy T-shirt emblazoned with the words ‘Don’t worry, be happy’ and a soft, pale blue denim shirt. Now, the shoes were long-gone, and he was sans hat, so Laker could feel his toes curled against his forearm, the feather-soft brush of blond curls on his cheek as he leaned down to inhale the scent synonymous with babies. He smelled perfect—a mixture of baby powder and Indie’s perfume—and felt even better cradled in Laker’s arms.
As he cooed over the baby boy, Laker had a startling thought.
He felt whole. For the first time, maybe ever, but certainly for the first time in a long while, Laker felt completely and utterly whole.
A quiet click made him look up; he found Indie tearing up behind her camera. “Sorry, I just…it’s a beautiful picture. I didn’t know if…if I’d ever get to see it.”
Laker’s heart thumped unevenly as he gazed at her, seeing a procession of emotions crossing her face.
Honestly? He’d wondered, too. As he’d been lying there on the ground with his head pillowed on her leg, blood seeping by the pint from his midsection, Laker’s final thoughts had been of Marley, Indie, and the baby she carried. He’d wondered if he’d get to meet him, wondered whether he’d ever get to hold him, or hear Marley gush over how much she adored her new little brother, because he’d known she would.
“Indie…” he breathed, even then not knowing what, exactly, he meant to say.
She shook her head, sniffling and dashing tears from her cheeks. “It’s okay, I’m just all kinds of emotional at the moment.”
“C’mere.” Smothering a wince, Laker held out his arm and gestured for her to come closer. He hadn’t even noticed her moving from the sofa to get the camera, he’d been so distracted by Bodhi. She settled against his side, careful not to press on his wound. Laker hugged her closer, ignoring the twinge of pain it caused. It was worth it to be able to hold her, just for a little while. “You really thought you’d get rid of me that easily?”
Indie shook her head, trying to laugh instead of cry, because yes, she really had thought she was going to lose him.
“Hey, listen to me, Pie.” She tipped her gaze up to his, trust and sweetness and everything Laker loved about her shining back at him through those beautiful ocean eyes. “I’m here for the long haul, all right? I’m not going anywhere.”
He couldn’t be sure, but Laker was sure he saw a flicker of his own emotions mirrored back at him within Indie’s gaze. She blinked slowly.
He wanted, so badly, more than ever before, to lean in and close the gap between their lips. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and never let go. He wanted to feel her hair between his fingers, her skin under his palms.
He wanted her to want those things, too, but he didn’t know if she ever would.
Coughing, Laker gently shuffled Bodhi back into Indie’s arms. “I, uh, I’m gonna head up…” he gestured towards the ceiling, and she nodded, turning her gaze down to her sleeping son to hide her expression.
“Okay, yeah. That’s…that’s fine. I’m just going to feed him and go up myself.”
“All right.” Hesitating on his way past, he reached out to brush his fingertips over the skin bared by her off-the-shoulder slouch t-shirt. “’Night, Indie. Sweet dreams.”
“Sweet dreams, Laker.”
Walking up the stairs to his makeshift bedroom that night, Laker felt a shift in his psyche. He loved Indie, with all of his heart and soul—he already knew that. He’d known if for quite some time.
But it was in those moments, as he lay awake listening to her humming to Bodhi on their way to bed twenty minutes later, that he realised something else.
There was no doubt he loved her, had been in love with her for months. But now, picturing her smiling between her children, happy, content, and safe, there wasn’t a shred of doubt in Laker’s mind that not only did he love her now, he’d love her always.
And maybe, just maybe, whether those feelings were ever reciprocated or not, he was okay with that.
~ oOo ~
Ines Danton was a sadist; of this, Indie was certain.
In the weeks following Bodhi’s birth, she set Indie and Grace new targets at their sessions each week. Most of them were relatively easy, all things told.
Relinquish some of the household chores, spend a little more time with family and friends other than their fathers and siblings, and engage in a new hobby. All of those things were accomplished quickly and without significant difficulty.
It was her latest homework assignment that had Indie convinced her therapist wanted to torture her.
“Take Marley and Bodhi to the park,” Ines said, wrapping up their last session for the week. She was away for the following week, so Indie and Grace had extra time to complete the task. They were now down to the last day before their first session back with Ines after her break, and they hadn’t ventured anywhere close to the park.
Well, until now.
“You’ll stay with us?” Grace asked Peter, nerves written clearly across her features.
Peter turned in his seat, smiling at his daughter. “Of course we will.”
It was a bright, sunny day, although there was a chill in the air. It was autumn now, the leaves falling from their branches to cover the ground in a gold and red patchwork blanket. The children had gone back to school, so there weren’t many people around. They’d come in two cars; Reagan and Archie drove. The latter had volunteered to bring ‘the cripple’, as Laker had been affectionately dubbed, and Marley had dutifully followed her idol. She hadn’t appeared nervous at all, clambering into the back seat of her uncle’s car with Carl-Roman and Chase, but a minute or two down the road she’d had Laker call Indie to make sure they were following. They were two cars behind so Archie pulled over to let them catch up, Marley waving her hands over her head the entire rest of the way so Reagan wouldn’t miss her.
They were now parked next to the play area in Hampden Park, Archie managing to stall Marley while Grace and Indie talked themselves into getting out of the car.
“This is stupid,” Indie eventually murmured, undoing her seatbelt and leaving the car quickly, before her fear could catch up with her.
“Atta girl,” Reagan whispered, following.
The group convened on the pavement, Carl-Roman and Marley itching to get into the play area while Indie and Archie loaded their little ones into their strollers. Bodhi fell asleep during the car ride, so Indie reclined him and pulled the canopy over so he could sleep without the sun beaming on him. It wasn’t all that warm, but it was still bright.
“All right, play area?” Laker asked softly, eyeing the hyper, over-excited five- and six-year-olds pressing their faces against the bars separating them from the fun.
“Yeah. Play area,” Grace whispered, winding her arm through Indie’s as she pushed Bodhi ahead. Marley and Carl-Roman walked quickly beside the girls, knowing better than to run off, while Reagan and Peter both used their phones to document the momentous occasion.
Marley and Bodhi’s first trip to the park.
Settling herself on a bench close to the climbing frames, Indie breathed a long sigh of relief as she offered Grace a shaky smile. “We did it, Gracie. We’re doing it.”
“We are,” she agreed, squeezing Indie’s hand.
“Mummy, look! I’m doing it!” Their eyes flew to Marley at the top of the big yellow slide.
It was the same slide they’d played on hundreds of times in their first eight years of life.
“You are, baby girl!” Indie called, tears spilling over her pale cheeks as she watched Laker catch Marley at the bottom, cheering and doing a silly dance with h
er to celebrate. It must have hurt him, but he didn’t seem to care, and Indie didn’t want to scold him. Not while he was having so much fun.
The wide, crooked grin on his face was almost painful to look at when she remembered she’d almost lost it.
Without that smile, the world would seem much dimmer.
Marley and Carl-Roman quickly exhausted themselves, both loving the chance to charge around unimpeded for the first time. Archie and Reagan took turns running after Chase, who toddled around with all the enthusiasm of his older, more agile brother and cousin, but less of the stability. Reagan took over a hundred photos, managing to get a few of all four of his grandchildren when Marley and Carl-Roman paused to take a juice break.
He immediately set his favourite as his wallpaper, so he could quickly look at the image of his eldest two grandchildren holding the youngest two on the bench.
Two hours after arriving at the park, Indie tucked Bodhi back into his stroller, persuaded Marley to put on her woollen hat, and Peter treated everyone—excluding Chase and Bodhi, who were too young—to ice creams. Marley chose watermelon, to copy Laker, subsequently declaring it her new favourite. Indie snapped pictures of the pair sitting together, grinning over their ice creams, then laughed at the pink moustache Laker gave himself with an over-zealous bite.
“No, Laker! You’re not s’posed to bite it, silly!”
“Oh, sorry, Little Sweet. How should I eat it?”
“That’s okay, Laker. I’ll teach you. Here, share my napkin. Your face is all messy.”
Indie watched with a grin from behind her own cone. They truly were adorable together.
As an elderly couple strolled past, hand-in-hand with warm smiles on their faces, she wondered what they saw when they looked over at their group.
Did they see friends enjoying a treat on a chilly day?
Did they see a healing family, learning to be whole again?
Did they see a dad and his daughter playing thumb wars, watermelon ice creams melting over their hands?