Her eyes were so dark, he couldn’t see the green at all. “What did you need, then?”
“You. The boys. A home. The first week here I told myself I was a stranger in a strange land, but at some point I knew I’d found heaven. Except I had a hard time making myself believe it could be real. It was pretend.” His arms contracted, probably squeezing her too tight but he couldn’t help himself. “I have hated every minute since I drove away.”
If he was hurting her, she didn’t let on. Instead she burrowed even closer. “I’ve hated every minute since then, too. Oh, Conall.”
They kissed slowly, tenderly, then passionately. He’d dreamed damn near every night about this—the two of them out here on the porch on a warm summer night, the front door open so that they’d know if one of the kids needed them, that fat braid flopping against his chest as if asking to be unraveled.
“I love you,” he whispered.
It was quite a while before she said, “If you won’t work for Duncan, what will you do?”
“I’ve already had a phone interview with the county sheriff’s department. They have an opening for a detective. I figure I’d like that.” He found himself smiling. “As Niall once put it, I’ll be arresting neighbors and friends instead of strangers.”
“You’ve already arrested our neighbors.”
That sobered him. “Killed one of them, too.”
“Things like that surely don’t happen often around here.”
He shrugged. “Niall has shot and killed two men on the job. And, yeah, that’s unusual. Duncan has only drawn his gun a few times, but it happens.”
“Twice?” She gaped.
He told her the story of Niall saving Jane’s life when a crazy stalker had a knife at her throat, and then about the bank robber who shot up the parking lot when he spotted a cop.
“All Niall wanted was to deposit a check.”
“Oh, no.” She hugged him. “I think I’d rather you never had to shoot anyone again. Unless—” She hesitated. “Well, I don’t want you to change too much.”
Conall threw back his head and laughed. “So if I get bored, it’s okay if I shoot someone?”
Lia giggled. “If it’ll make you happy.”
Voice low and husky, he said, “This makes me happy. You. Knowing your bedroom door will be open tonight.” He pulled back slightly. “It will be, won’t it?”
“Yes.” Her voice came out husky, too, the effect being sultry. “Do you think we need to keep pretending for the boys’ sake that you have the bedroom across the hall?”
“Maybe until we get married. Unless it’s okay to live in sin these days when you’re under scrutiny by an adoption agency.”
He loved the way her nose crinkled. “Oh, fine,” she muttered.
“I want to get married soon.” He didn’t like to say this, but had to. “I’m only here for two days, Lia. I have to give a month’s notice and finish out an operation I’m involved in. I kinda thought, though, that maybe you and the boys would come visit me for a few days or a week somewhere in there. We could take a boat out, do some snorkeling, maybe some fishing—”
“That sounds wonderful. Of course we’ll come.”
“So.” He smiled at her. “You ready for bed yet?”
* * *
UPSTAIRS SHE STOOD in the doorway to the boys’ bedroom and watched when Conall went in and stood silently looking at them. Their covers were rumpled; Walker had kicked his off entirely. After a minute Conall stepped forward and gently ran his knuckles over Walker’s cheek, then did the same to Brendan. Who stirred restlessly, then opened his eyes.
“Conall?” he whispered.
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I’m here.”
“I’m not dreaming?”
“No.” Conall sat on the edge of the bed; Lia couldn’t see his face anymore.
But she heard the aching hope in Brendan’s voice. “Are you…are you staying?”
“Yeah. I have to go back to Miami for a few weeks, but then I’m here for good. Lia and I are getting married.”