Like Jane, he’s come bearing a tray, and now he calls to our girls, who rush over for the chocolate chip cookies that artfully surround a cluster of cannolis. “You’re spoiling us,” I say. “Them, too.”
“Hell, yes,” he admits. “How better to make you come back? We have the room, and we don’t see you guys nearly enough. The downside of having a continent between us.”
“In case it’s not clear,” Jane adds as Dallas settles into the chair next to hers, then reaches automatically for her hand, “we’re thrilled you’re here, even if it’s only for the night.”
“We’re thrilled that you’re having us,” I counter. “Especially that you’re helping out with the girls.”
The plan is that Damien and I will head into Manhattan tomorrow. After our overnight extravaganza, Dallas and Jane will bring the girls into the city and meet us at the Manhattan Stark Century Hotel for dinner and the child handoff.
Then Damien and the girls and I will spend a few glorious days lounging in the penthouse suite, ice skating at Rockefeller Center, and eating chestnuts from street vendors. Plus an Eloise tea at the Palm Court at the Plaza Hotel for me and Lara while Damien takes Anne to the huge toy and candy stores in Times Square.
We’d hoped that the girls would see snow sometime during the trip, if not on Christmas Day itself, but this year is unseasonably warm, with highs reaching all the way into the low fifties. Today in Southampton, the thermometer hit fifty-six and only now is the temperature starting to dip. Which means that Jane was right. It would have been a great day to heat the pool and swim.
“How are things at Stark Security?” Dallas asks. “Treating my men well?”
Damien flashes a grin. “They’re mine now, and they’re all doing great. We’ve had some interesting work recently, as you well know.”
Jane squeezes Dallas’s hand, then stands with a nod to me. I unfold myself from the couch, grab my glass, and follow. We both know our men are about to dive into recounts of their organizations’ various adventures. And while I never tire of listening to the ins and outs of any of Damien’s projects or passions, right now I’m glad to have a moment to chat alone with Jane.
“Thank you again,” I say after we pause briefly to give the girls hugs on the play mat before moving on to the hot tub. We sit on the ledge, kick off our shoes, and dangle our feet into the warm water.
“Are you kidding? It’s great spending time with you. And I think you’re right. Damien really doesn’t know.”
“Amazing, isn’t it?”
“Very. I give you all sorts of props. I mean, the man knows everything. How does he not know you’re pregnant?”
“I’m afraid he does,” I admit. “You figured it out at brunch.” I’d turned down a mimosa. She’d dragged me into the kitchen and flat-out asked me.
“Nah, he doesn’t suspect. I’m just attuned to the signs. I mean, Mystery’s not even a year old yet. Getting close, though.”
“True. And you helped by bringing me a drink. Handy you had non-alcoholic wine in the house. I’ve been keeping a stash at home.”
“We don’t host as many parties as Dallas did when he was playing the role of the consummate playboy, but the wine cellar is still fully stocked to suit all preferences.”
“Cheers to that,” I say, then lift my glass and take a sip of what is essentially grape juice.
“What I still don’t know is why the secret? You never got the chance to tell me earlier.”
“I have a condition. A bicornuate uterus. Now that I’m past the first trimester, we’re pretty much out of the woods, but before…” I trail off with a shrug, thinking of the daughter we didn’t have and the flowers we planted by the house in her memory. “I didn’t want to tell him until I was sure. I want a celebration, not worry.”
“Damien’s not going to like being kept in the dark. That man’s your knight. Believe me,” she adds with a soft smile, “I know the type. And if—God forbid—you don’t make it…”
I nod as she trails off. “I know. You’re right. But I think this pregnancy is going to be okay. It’s hard to explain, but with Anne it felt different. Solid.” I draw in a breath and press my hand to my belly. “That’s how this feels. I didn’t tell him until after the first trimester then, either.”
She squeezes my hand. “So when is three months?”
“Now. Today, actually. Maybe I should wait a few more weeks to be sure, but like I said, this little one feels solid.” I press a hand to my belly. “That’s why I want our night alone in the city. So thank you for helping in my deception.”
“Happy to aid and abet. But just so you know, I’m telling Dallas. You may be able to keep this quiet, but I can’t.”
“Fine. Just tell him not to say anything until I’ve texted you that Damien knows.”
“Deal.” She tilts her head. “I’m still shocked he hasn’t figured it out.”
I shrug. “Me, too. But you know what they say, a wife has to have some secrets. At least for one more day, this little one is mine.”
Chapter Two
“Do you miss it?” Damien asked as he and Dallas stepped into the cavernous basement room. All it needed was a few Bunsen burners and some bubbling test tubes to transform it into a mad scientist’s lair. It already had the banks of equipment with monitors, dials, and well-lit panels.
“Miss running Deliverance, you mean?” Dallas turned slowly, clearly surveying his domain. “Sometimes.” His gaze came to rest on Damien. “But I suppose it doesn’t matter if I do or don’t. You took all my men.”
“Funny,” Damien said, certain his friend was jesting.
“But true.”
Damien nodded slowly. He was confident that Dallas had made peace with his decision to step back from Deliverance, a vigilante-style organization that Dallas had founded years ago in order to track down the son-of-a-bitch who had kidnapped and tortured him and Jane as teenagers. Even so, he’d always suspected that there was a hint of regret there, too. And now that he was standing in the basement, he was sure of it.
“The equipment’s all here,” Damien said. “For that matter, it’s all still running. But you’re not on the front lines anymore.”
“No. I’m not.”
“Why?”
Dallas tilted his head, his eyes probing, as if he were searching for the deeper question. “We’re a lot alike, Stark. I think you know why.”
Damien moved to one of the equipment banks, pausing in front of a set of monitors with labels in multiple languages. He put his hand on the metal and felt the thrum of information flowing under his palm and through the electronic veins of the deceptively plain-looking metal boxes. The equipment like something he’d imagined as a child while curled up reading science fiction.
“I do,” he said slowly, his attention still on the equipment. “You chased your demons for years. Not because they were yours, but because they were Jane’s, too. You both needed that closure. And now—well, now you’re done.”