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“Just don’t open the blinds, yeah?”

She squeezed his upper arm and nodded as she moved toward one of his windows and opened it, ensuring that the blind remained closed.

“Go sit down before you fall down,” Kostya ordered, as he pointed to Mateo’s couch. “And to think I depend on you when we’re out in the field,” he muttered. Mateo watched as he stalked into his kitchen and opened the fridge.

“Who hauled your ass home?” Kostya called over the door of the fridge.

“Some nice Uber driver. He stopped at the store and loaded me up.”

Kostya rolled his eyes and pulled out a liter of Gatorade and brought it to Mateo. Lark shook her head at her husband as she passed him on the way to the kitchen.

“When was the last time you ate?” she asked.

“Last night. I ate a couple of slices of pizza.”

This time, she shook her head at him. She opened the box lid of the pizza he hadn’t remembered to put in the fridge last night.

“Seriously, Mateo? Meat lover's pizza with concussion and pain killers? It’s a wonder you didn’t spend most of the night yacking it up.” She looked over her shoulder at him and must have read the guilty look on his face. “Men,” she said derisively.

She opened up his fridge and pawed through it, then started opening up his cupboards. “You need something that would soothe your stomach, not spicy sausage and pepperoni.” She went over to her purse and fished her phone out. She turned away from him, leaving him stuck with Kostya.

“Drink the Gatorade.”

“Is that an order?”

“Yes. If you don’t drink it, I’m hauling your ass back to the hospital.”

Kostya sat down on Mateo’s sturdy coffee table so he could watch his subordinate drink. Mateo rolled his eyes but drank down the beverage. It tasted really sweet and he was surprised at how thirsty he was. Shit, he should have realized he was dehydrated.

Lark slipped her phone back into her purse and went back into the kitchen. She opened up his freezer. “Ah-ha. At last.”

Mateo watched as she pulled out a carton of frozen custard. It was his favorite from Blue Cow, mint chocolate chip. She looked in his cupboards and found a bowl. She dished out three scoops and brought it out to him.

“Here you go. This should help soothe your tummy.”

“Tummy?” he and Kostya said at the same time. They both laughed.

“You’ve been talking to Romy too long if you’re using words like tummy,” Kostya said with a warm smile.

“Can it, buddy. You’re just as bad when it comes to our daughter.”

Now Mateo was laughing on his own. Married life and motherhood hadn’t mellowed Lark Sorenson-Barona, that was for damn sure.

“Now you,” she pointed at him. “Quit your laughing and start eating. When are you due for your next pain pill?”

“I hate those things. I can’t think straight, and I already can’t think straight with the damned concussion. I just need some Tylenol.”

“You damned Navy SEALs. Okay, where do you keep it?”

He started to get up.

“Just keep your ass planted and tell me where the bottle is.” This time Kostya chuckled.

“You better listen to her.”

“And start eating your ice cream.” She jabbed her finger at him before darting down the hall.

“The bottle is next to my bed,” Mateo yelled after her.