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“You should have him tested for his IQ,” Amara pointed out.
Morana nodded. “Yeah, we will. I mean we’re all just kind of adapting to being in the same space, you know? Tristan took to it like a duck to water, though. He loves him. He doesn’t say it, but I can tell. I found them in the kitchen one night cooking pizza because Xander had a nightmare.”
“That’s big for Tristan,” Amara admitted.
“I know right?” Morana nodded. “I’m still searching facial recognition for anything on him, but so far nada.”
“Has he said anything about the Shadowman?” Amara asked, curious, settling back on the couch in the living room, sunlight filling up the space.
“Tristan said he mentioned him. Just that he always left Xander notes to communicate and stayed in the shadows. Last time he saw the guy was in the fog. I think you might be right, about him being the Airport Guy. He’s been freaky about me not seeing him. By the way, have you tried this new peach milk moisturizer? I hear it’s divine.”
The sound of footsteps brought Amara’s attention. “Listen, I’ll talk to you later,” she told Morana and they hung up.
Nerea walked into the room, her eyes coming to Amara.
“Hey,” Amara said, concerned about the way the older woman stayed silent. Over the last few days, she’d not had the time to talk to the woman.
Nerea stopped at the edge of the room. “You’re pregnant?”
Amara furrowed her brow. “Yes, why?”
Nerea shook her head. “No reason. I’ll catch you later.”
She walked right out of the room, the little interaction weirding Amara out.
Dante wore glasses, looking at his laptop screen as she and her mother sat on the office couch, discussing the wedding plans. Usually, they sat somewhere else and didn’t interrupt her husband-to-be, but that day his input was required.
“So, gold or silver?”
“Gold.”
“Different tables or buffet?”
“Different tables.”
“Are we calling Al and his family?”
“Yeah.”
That’s pretty much how it had gone since the last hour. She and her mother would ask final questions, and he would give monosyllabic replies, all the while working on his laptop. It was a gorgeous day too, with the bright sun filtering in through the big windows of his office, Lulu napping on a particularly warm spot in the ray of sun. She’d made Dante’s study her day place. If he was there, she’d be there. If he wasn’t there, then she’d find Amara. If neither of them were there, then she’d snuggle somewhere in a huge mansion and sleep.
Amara looked at him in his zone, with the scruff that had become an almost beard, the glasses on his handsome face, and felt her belly flutter the same way it used to when she’d been a teen, watching the unreachable boy. She rested her face on her hand stared at him.
“Why are you staring at me?” he asked her, not looking up from the screen.
Her mother looked up at them. “She has always stared at you, Dante,” her ma said with amusement. “You shouldn’t be surprised anymore.”
Dante grinned but kept working. The vibration from his phone had his face turning to the side.
“Morana,” he greeted. “I’m putti
ng you on speaker. Hold on.”
He placed the phone on the table and went back to looking at his screen.
“Okay, so you know how I’ve been keeping my eye on Nerea for months? She disappeared so I tracked her and guess who she led us to?”
“Who?” Dante asked absently, still looking at his screen.
