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Sam’s smile dimmed. “We never saw any adverse reactions before, but we’ve only just started testing it on human candidates,” she said. “There’s an inherent risk in being among the first for anything. That’s why it’s so important we’re at a hospital when we administer the vaccine.”
I didn’t like the sound of that, but Elias wasn’t my child. It wasn’t my choice whether or not to subject him to something like that…and I didn’t have to live with the consequences by being so overly cautious that I passed up what could be a miracle cure.
“I’d like to examine him first,” Sam said. “Make sure I’m not making false promises.” She reached out and took Nataliya’s hand. “I’ll do whatever I can for your son. Even if that’s just to find better medication for his symptoms so his quality of life improves.”
Tears sparkled in Nataliya’s eyes. “Thank you so much.” She looked at me, and those tears spilled over. “Thank you so much.”
The rest of the afternoon was spent settling in. Gabe and Zach would be coming in soon; Nate would touch base when things were settled on his end. So, for the time being, there wasn’t much for us to do but breathe.
And considering the burning in my shoulder, breathing was just about all I could handle.
“Adrian!” Elias called from the bathroom. Sam had checked my dressing, and I had been passing by the bathroom on the way back to the living room. I stopped and poked my head into the small space.
Nataliya was helping him to get ready for bed. She said that he normally didn’t need her, and preferred to handle things on his own, but after the stresses of the past few days, he was weaker than usual, to the point where she felt it was dangerous for him to be alone.
“What’s up, bud?”
“Come tell me a story?” he asked. “About your hero stuff?”
Nataliya was about to tell Elias no, I could see it on her face, but I cut her off beforehand. “Of course,” I said.
She eyed me. “Are you sure? You don’t want to rest?”
I smirked at her, winking obnoxiously. “I think I can handle a story,” I said. “Any practical demonstrations will have to wait a few days though.”
We went to their shared bedroom as a trio. Nataliya hovered at the door while I told him a story about one of my first days in SEAL training: I drank about a gallon of seawater during PT and threw up on the beach when it was over. It hadn’t been funny at the time, but Elias giggled at the imagery of a baby-faced me yakking up my guts.
Elias demanded I sit with him until his eyes grew heavy, which didn’t take long. When I left the room, closing the door quietly behind me, Nataliya was standing in the hallway, picking at her cuticles. “Stop,” I said, reaching out to put a hand over hers. “You’ll bleed.”
She snorted. “No more blood today, please.”
“Agreed.”
We stood in the hall, just staring at one another, for a handful of heartbeats. “I meant it earlier,” she said finally. “You can’t protect us if you’re dead…so don’t get yourself killed.”
I felt the smirk on my face before I was fully conscious of what I was doing. “You’re worried about me,” I teased softly. It wasn’t a question this time. We both knew it was true.
She didn’t smile. Instead, she looked pained. “I was,” she said and took a tentative step toward me. “I am.”
I could feel her heat against my skin, even if we weren’t touching. It was like a magnet, drawing me toward her. “I’m sorry,” I said, “for making you worry.” I reached out and cupped her cheek. “How can I make it up to you?”
She didn’t say anything—just looked up at me. I wasn’t sure who moved first, but our lips met in a kiss so soft I could have melted into a puddle. Nataliya was beautiful, smart, capable, and she tasted like sunshine. I was in so much fucking trouble.
TEN
NATALIYA
The sun was barely in the sky when I crawled out of bed. Sleep had been a hard battle, and I’d been on the losing side, so I decided I might as well get up and get breakfast made. It was quiet in the house, and I moved gently around the kitchen, pulling ingredients out of the fridge and pantry.
I had just popped a breakfast casserole into the oven when Sam wandered in with her nephew, Myles, on her hip. Adrian had told me that the boy had brought Sam and Owen together. Myles’s parents had been Sam’s sister and Owen’s brother—and after the two of them died, joint custody of their baby went to their siblings. They’d moved in together to look after him…and love had ensued from there.
The little boy was hooting about Cheerios. “I got it, sweetheart,” she murmured at him and sat him in his highchair. “That smells good,” she said to me as she opened the pantry to grab the massive yellow cereal box.
“It should be ready in about twenty minutes. Do you want coffee? I made some.”
“If I didn’t love Owen so much, I might ask you to marry me,” she said, and I laughed as I got out two mugs.
“If you had a milk steamer, I could really impress you,” I told her. “My lattes are fabulous.”
