Yara shakes her head. “I wish I could. But I’m stuffed.”
“I’m not,” Rafe announces. “I could definitely go for another piece of that apple pie.” He starts to move Eden’s legs off his lap. “But you don’t have to get it for me, Bea. I can do it myself.”
Bea makes a quicksit downgesture with her hand. “I’m already up,” she replies. “I don’t mind.” Turning her attention to Tyler, she adds, “Ty? Would you like another piece?”
He glances at his empty plate. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
Bea crosses the room and takes the plate from him. Then she ruffles his hair affectionately. “Of course not. I wouldn’t have asked if I did.” Smiling, she adds, “Anyway, if I leave Indy in there too long, he’ll probably eat the rest of the pie himself.”
“I heard that,” Indy replies as he appears in the doorway. “I would not eatallthe pie. Just another slice or two.” He heads over to Bea and kisses her cheek. “And really, it’s yourfault for baking such delicious pies.”
“I can’t believe you made them,” Yara says to Bea. She nods at the last bit of her pie. “This is amazing.”
“Bea’s a great cook, isn’t she?” Indy asks, casting a proud look in his wife’s direction.
“She is,” Webb’s mother agrees. “You did a fantastic job, Bea. Thanks so much for baking them.”
Bea’s cheeks flush pink. “I like baking. It’s relaxing.” After a beat, she adds, “Indy helped. So, really, it was a team effort.”
I snort. “How exactly did Indy help? Checking to see if the smoke detectors worked?”
Rafe laughs. “That sounds about right.”
“Hey,” Indy retorts defensively. “I can cook.”
“Like the pancakes you made at my place?” Yara teases.
I hug her closer to my side. “Good one,” I murmur.
Bea snickers. “Those pancakes were interesting, to say the least.”
Indy grabs Rafe’s plate, then punches his shoulder hard enough to make Rafe grimace. Rafe grumbles, “Why do you always have to punch me with your right hand?”
Indy flexes his prosthetic fingers. With a grin, he replies, “Because I know it hurts more when I use this one.”
Yara laughs. “Indy. I didn’t design it so you could beat up Rafe.”
Indy turns to her with a smile. “I know. It’s just an unexpected benefit.”
As Indy and Bea head back into the kitchen, I tell Yara quietly, “It’s a good thing that he feels so comfortable using his hand like that. That he thinks it’s a plus, rather than a negative.”
Eden overhears us, and adds in a tone low enough that Indy can’t hear her, “Thanks to all the cool mods you added, Yara, he’s finally realized he can do just as much with his prosthetic as he could with his old hand.”
Out of the corner of my eye, Tyler’s expression clouds. As he shifts in his seat, his pants ride up, exposing the carbon fiber of his own prosthetic. Though we’ve assured him plenty of times that the missing part of his leg isn’t a weakness, I know he doesn’t really believe us. He still thinks that just because he lost the lower part of his leg in an explosion overseas, he’s somehow less than the rest of us.
It’s not true, of course. Tyler’s not only an expert marksman and a kick-ass martial artist, but his skills with computers are second to none. And the Shadow team wouldn’t be the same without him.
But Tyler’s been through a heck of a lot more than the average person, first losing his right leg below the knee, and only a few years later, losing his wife. So I guess it’s understandable that it would take him a long time to come to terms with everything.
Shit, I’m still hanging on to my old wounds, and they’re not nearly as bad as his.
“I’m glad,” Yara replies in that same low tone. “It’s nice knowing I could help in some small way.”
“Not a small way,” I tell her. “A huge way. Just like you’ve helped all those other people, too.”
“That reminds me,” Rafe interjects. “I talked to Callum the other day. He’s thinking about organizing a 5K slash half-marathon next fall. Either in Portland or Seattle, depending on availability.”
“What’s that you say?” Indy asks as he reenters the living room, two plates of pie in hand. “Another race?” He glances at Bea, who’s right behind him, holding two more dessert plates. “What do you think? Want to do another 5K?”
