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The Spy's Love Song

Page 17

by Kim Fielding


  “I will,” he said with a smile. “Can’t think of a better place to recuperate.”

  “Excellent. I have a… special visitor for you. If you feel up to it.”

  “Sure.”

  She stepped out, and Jaxon expected her to return with a Croatian bigwig of some kind, or maybe the US ambassador. Instead, a thin woman with gray hair entered hesitantly. She wore slacks and a pale blue blouse and held her large purse in front of her like a shield.

  Jaxon’s mouth went dry. “Mom?” he croaked.

  He hadn’t seen her in twenty years, but neither her short hairstyle nor the oversize glasses had changed much. When she came closer, he caught a whiff of Shalimar, which he remembered his father buying for her birthday every year.

  “Jaxon.” Her voice shook. “Is it all right that I’m here?”

  “Yes. God, yes, Mom.”

  That set them both to crying. He’d never seen her cry before. And they hugged, which hurt his wounds but was a balm to his soul, and then she sat beside him.

  “Your father couldn’t come but he sends his love.” She dabbed her eyes with a tissue. “He does.”

  “Tell him I love him too.”

  “I will. His health has been poor lately, or he would have come.”

  Time to mourn lost years later. Jaxon gave a small smile. “Maybe I can come visit after I’m healed. If you want me to.”

  “We do.”

  She reached for his hand and he gave it to her. At one time he’d been so angry at them, but he’d come to realize that their experiences and circumstances imprisoned them. Perhaps, if Jaxon had been patient, they might have opened the doors to that prison, but he had fled as soon as he was able.

  “Thanks for coming here, Mom. It’s a long way from Peril.”

  “We saw you on the television. Nobody knew then if you were even alive, and….” She sniffled into the tissue. “And your father and I were devastated. You never think your child will go before you do. You always assume you’ll have a chance to mend fences.”

  “We can mend them now. But it has to be two-way. It’s taken me a long time, but I’m comfortable with who I am. I won’t try to change that.” He was proud that his voice didn’t waver even though his emotions ran wild.

  Still clutching his hand, she nodded. “I think your father and I would very much enjoy getting to know you. We’ve been told you’re a remarkable man.”

  They spoke for another hour, catching up on family gossip. His father had some heart and back problems, which was why he couldn’t travel, and Jaxon was relieved the news wasn’t worse. As they talked, an empty place deep inside Jaxon began to fill, a small starvation now fed.

  But he was still weak, the emotions were overwhelming, and his mother caught him yawning. “You shouldn’t overdo it. I’ll let you rest.” She let go of his hand and stood.

  “Will you come back after I’m rested?”

  “Of course.” She smiled widely. “I might be a tourist in the meantime. Who’d have thought someday I’d be in Croatia!”

  “Enjoy, Mom. Come back for dinner?”

  “I’d love to.”

  “Good. What are your thoughts on squid ink?”

  AFTER another nap, Jaxon became restless. He persuaded his nurse to help him walk a few circuits of the room, but that was as much as his body could take. And his mind… his mind didn’t know what to do. Rejoice over being alive? Celebrate Vasnytsia’s freedom? Brood over Reid? Delight in reconciling with his parents? It was all too much, like being immersed in a whirlpool and trying to snatch at one particular fish.

  However, he could accomplish a few things even now.

  Jaxon picked up his new phone and punched in a number he’d memorized long ago. It rang only once.

  “Jaxon! My darling! Oh my God, how are you doing?”

  “I’m doing okay, Buzz.”

  “I wanted to come see you, but they’re being very top-secret about where you are, and I couldn’t even reach you because your number went straight to voicemail, and oh my God, I’ve been so worried, I’m going to find that Chiu woman and kick her a new asshole because how dare she do this to you and—”

  “Breathe, Buzz. I said I’m okay.”

  Buzz tsked. “I saw you gunned down, baby boy.”

  “I got back up again.”

  For a while Buzz gushed a lot of words. Hearing him made Jaxon smile. Yes, Buzz could be melodramatic and a bit over the top, but he cared about Jaxon and had always done right by him, an achievement not always shared by others in the business.

  Finally even Buzz had to take a break, so Jaxon hurried to get his own words in. “Hey, can you do something for me?”

  “Anything, cupcake. I’ll get you anything you need.”

  “When things settle down in Vasnytsia and everything’s safe, will you arrange a concert for me there? Maybe more than one, I don’t know. Free and open to the public.”

  Buzz paused briefly before responding with skepticism in his voice. “I wouldn’t think you’d ever want to step foot in that place again.”

  “No, see, I like the place. And the people. And… they had a lot of faith in me, you know? Risked everything for me. I want to pay some of that back.”

  Buzz paused a moment before answering in a tone more somber than usual. “You got it, honey. As soon as we can pull it off without you getting shot at, you’re there.”

  “Thanks.” Maybe Jaxon should learn some of the language before then. He wouldn’t have Reid to interpret.

  He leaned a little deeper into his pillows, twitching his shoulder to find a comfortable angle. And he closed his eyes as he thought about filling some of the other holes in his psyche.

  “Another thing, Buzz. When I’m back in the States, I’d like to look for a place to buy. A home. Can you help me with that?”

  “Of course. Where were you thinking? What kind of place?”

  “I don’t know.” A castle on a hill, with his lover to sing to sleep at night.

  “I’d kind of like a mountain cabin,” a familiar voice said.

  Jaxon’s eyes flew open and he gaped at the man who’d crept to his bedside. Reid stood there in a suit, a bouquet of lavender clutched in his hand, a hesitant smile on his lips. Wrinkles marred his dress shirt, his slacks had lost their careful pleat, and another day’s worth of beard scruff darkened his face. God, he was beautiful.

  Nobody said anything at all for a long moment. But then Buzz called his name. “Jaxon? Jaxon! Is something wrong?”

  Surprisingly, Jaxon found his voice. “I think something’s right. I hope.”

  Reid nodded.

  “You sound strange, kid. What’s going on?”

  “I’m… I’m gonna have to get back to you. I’ll call you soon.” Jaxon ended the call and set the phone aside. “Mountain cabin?” he said after a moment. His throat rasped as if he’d just completed a concert. He wanted to reach out to Reid but didn’t quite dare, as if Reid was a fever-dream that might disappear.

  “Yes. A chalet with balconies and a huge fireplace, and acres of trees all around. Owls hooting at night.” Reid ducked his head, then raised it again. “Or a high-rise condo. Or a bungalow by the beach. A suburban split-level. A farmhouse in Nebraska. I don’t really care all that much, actually. Long as you’re there.”

  Strange. Jaxon felt shockier now than when he’d been bleeding onto the pavement. Good thing he wasn’t hooked up to a heart monitor anymore. “No more different tracks?”

  “Changed my ticket. Open itinerary. I go wherever you go.”

  “That’s a fast switch. You’ve figured yourself out already?”

  “I figured enough.”

  “How?”

  Reid set the flowers on the bedside table and knelt beside him. He worked the fingers of one hand into Jaxon’s curls, and God, just that small contact was almost enough make Jaxon cry. “Pivo,” said Reid.

  “What?”

  “Pivo. It means beer. I left here yesterday because I thought I was doing the r
ight thing. But every damn time I closed my eyes, even just to blink, I saw you being shot. I remembered when I thought I’d lost you.” He snorted. “So I drank a whole lot of pivo last night. Enough that it should have washed that vision away. But it didn’t. I could drink an entire ocean of the stuff and I’d still… I’d still feel you.”

  “I feel you too.”

  “I know. But this morning I was walking along the Riva—along the waterfront, in front of Diocletian’s palace.”

  Jaxon touched Reid’s arm. “I know the place.”

  “Diocletian gave up being emperor of Rome, you know? Chose to retire here instead.”

  “In luxury.”

  “Yes. I wonder if it made him happy? Anyway, I’m still not sure I’m the right man for you. Don’t know that I’m… enough.”

  “More than.” Dammit, now Jaxon was starting to cry. Second time today. He hadn’t cried when he’d been shot, for fuck’s sake.

  “Yes, well, I can work at it. I’m pretty good at fulfilling a mission once I’ve set my mind to it. Because the thing is, you’re the right man for me. Being with you doesn’t weaken me—you make me strong. You’re… this thing that’s missing from me. You’re it.” His eyes were wet too. He rubbed impatiently at them with the back of his free hand.

  Scratchy-voiced, Jaxon asked, “So what do we do?”

  “We get to know each better, without anyone trying to kill us while we’re at it.”

  “We go out on dates? Dinner and a movie?” Jaxon was only half joking, because it turned out that the boy from Nebraska secretly yearned for a dose of old-fashioned normalcy.

  “Dinner and a movie. You’ll impress me with tales about all the famous people you know, and then I’ll impress you with my spy stories.”

  Jaxon could picture it—the two of them eating a good meal, laughing as they talked, both of them knowing that as soon as they got home they’d fall into bed together. It was a beautiful picture. “What else?”

  Reid spread his arms wide. “Everything else. The whole world, Jax. We go wherever we want. Or we stay put if we’d rather. We buy that house you were just talking about. We build our future. We find our way together.”

  “Together.” Jax breathed it like a sacred word.

  “Yeah.”

  “I like that mission. I like it a lot.”

  They kissed tenderly. Reid’s lips were still bruised and Jaxon could only embrace him with one arm. Didn’t matter. Best kiss ever.

  Then Reid climbed in beside him and they snuggled. They could save their words and plans for later. The specifics of the mission could wait. They had as long as they wanted.

  As Jaxon lay there, listening to Reid’s steady breaths and strong heartbeat, a tune formed in his head, followed by words. Words about love and hope and dreams, about building a home together. They were kind of sappy, actually, but that was just fine for an intimate concert.

  Maybe Reid would add some verses of his own.

  KIM FIELDING is very pleased every time someone calls her eclectic. Her books have won Rainbow Awards and span a variety of genres. She has migrated back and forth across the western two-thirds of the United States and currently lives in California, where she long ago ran out of bookshelf space. She’s a university professor who dreams of being able to travel and write full-time. She also dreams of having two perfectly behaved children, a husband who isn’t obsessed with football, and a house that cleans itself. Some dreams are more easily obtained than others.

  Blogs: kfieldingwrites.com and www.goodreads.com/author/show/4105707.Kim_Fielding/blog

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/KFieldingWrites

  Email: kim@kfieldingwrites.com

  Twitter: @KFieldingWrites

  By Kim Fielding

  DREAMSPUN BEYOND

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The Spy’s Love Song

  © 2018 Kim Fielding.

  Cover Art

  © 2018 Bree Archer.

  http://www.breearcher.com

  Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.

  All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or www.dreamspinnerpress.com.

  Digital ISBN: 978-1-64080-502-6

  Mass Market Paperback ISBN: 978-1-64108-055-2

  Library of Congress Control
Number: 2017919628

  Digital published October 2018

  v. 1.0

  Printed in the United States of America

 

 

 


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