Page 129 of Spies Don’t Fall for Their Best Friend

And Owen is in town and here, too. He comes up to Charlie, wraps an arm around her waist, and kisses her temple.

It’s loud. Happy. Full. I’d braced myself for this—it’s exactly the kind of backyard family gathering I thought might really hurt today. Especially after telling Miles out loud that there is a very good chance I will never have a biological baby of my own.

Honestly, I expected this to hurt a lot more than it does. Instead, I’m legitimately having fun. And I’m happy for Mackenzie.

I have spent years trying to not let myself feel grief about my infertility, as if acknowledging it would give it permission to take over everything. But apparently grief doesn’t work that way—it and happiness can coexist. I can ache for what I may never have and still be completely happy for Mackenzie.

Miles’s eyes meet mine from across the yard, and he takes a few steps in my direction just as little Adelaide toddles up to him. And like the softhearted man that he is, he crouches down beside her, putting a hand on the right side of his back for a moment as he does. Adelaide holds up the remains of her shortbread cookie.

Miles studies it seriously. “What have you got there?”

Adelaide’s response isn’t quite loud enough for me to hear.

“A bear?” Miles asks.

She holds it up to his mouth, and my hand flies to mine, holding in a soft chuckle. Miles looks at the soggy cookie, then at her, and then takes the smallest possible bite. Adelaide beams.

My heart is trying to ache and melt at the same time.

Adelaide reaches both arms toward him, and he picks her up without hesitation. Miles settles Adelaide against one hip while one of Mackenzie’s nephews races over to ask him something. Heidi follows, carrying two foam blocks bigger than her torso. Within thirty seconds, Miles is holding a toddler, listening to a six-year-old explain a rule he has clearly invented, and somehow helping Heidi balance the blocks against his knee.

He looks completely natural.

I’ve seen him with Heidi hundreds of times— no new information there. But everything is different because four days ago, Miles told me he still wants a future with me.

And now, apparently, my brain has decided that means it gets to picture Miles holding a baby. Miles helping a child build something in a backyard. Miles helping a kid learn how to ride a bike. Miles with kids who call him Dad.

The picture comes so easily that I have to look away. There’s no way he doesn’t want all of that.

Charlie bumps my shoulder with hers. “You okay?”

I glance at her. “I’m good.” She waits, so I add, “I really am.”

She’s still looking at me, probably trying to tell if I’m telling the truth.

Then Adelaide tries to put the rest of the cookie into Miles’s mouth, and I laugh. “I might need to rescue him.”

“He can handle international criminals. He can handle a squishy cookie.”

“Somehow, I doubt this uses that same skill set.”

When I get to Miles, Heidi has taken off again, Mackenzie’s nephew is arguing with his brother about how to make their fort strong, and Adelaide has her head tucked against Miles’s shoulder. Miles is not Adelaide’s uncle. I’m not even sure if she has met Miles before today, yet she feels comfortable enough with him to snuggle right in. It makes me think all kinds of thoughts and feel all kinds of emotions, and I don’t even know what to do with them all.

“You’ve been captured,” I say.

Miles smiles at Adelaide. “She’s very persuasive.”

“I see she offered you a partially dissolved cookie in exchange for picking her up.”

“It was a strong opening negotiation.”

Adelaide looks at me, and when I tell her, “Hi,” she tucks her face back into Miles’s shoulder. I’m right there with you, Adelaide. I’ve tucked myself into that shoulder quite a few times myself. I know it’s a good one.

Miles smiles at me, and apparently knowing what that mouth feels like against mine has permanently altered the effect of his smiles. I really want to kiss him right now.

Miles shifts Adelaide slightly, then his free hand goes to his right side, pressing against the back of his shirt just above his hip.

“What’s wrong?”