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Ronan and Julia had opted not to find out the baby’s gender and not to share their potential names, but that didn’t stop Nick and Elise from guessing, and they’d made a game out of creating the most outrageous combinations of names imaginable.
“Let’s not start this again,” Julia said. “In two more months, we’ll know.”
The door opened and Declan stepped into the kitchen carrying two large paper bags with the Fabricci’s logo printed on the side. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”
“What?” Nick asked.
“Set me up,” Declan said. “Guy from Fabricci’s caught me on the way in. You owe me seventy-five dollars, plus the tip.”
“I didn’t plan it,” Ronan said. “But I wish I had.”
“Asshole,” Declan muttered.
“How could we have planned it?” Nick asked. “It’s nine p.m. on a Friday night. You’re never home at nine p.m. on a Friday night.”
Declan was infamous for what their father, now retired from the Boston PD, called “tomcatting.” Once upon a time he’d brought home a different woman four nights a week, but since the wedding, Ronan had spoken to him about ramping it back. There would be a baby in the house soon, and while he didn’t expect any of them to be monks, a little respect wasn’t out of order.
He’d spoken to Nick and Declan, but he might as well have just spoken to Declan. Nick never brought women home, preferring to indulge in the occasional hookup at someone else’s place. Their house was too personal to share with someone he hardly knew, to say nothing of the details of their business, details that could land them all in prison.
The thought caused worry to gnaw at his stomach, and Alexa Nash’s face swam inside his mind. He tapped his foot restlessly against the wood floor before standing to help Elise unpack the food.
Sometimes he wished his duties at MIS were more often tactical. They all worked in the field when it was required, but it was only smart to play to their strengths, and despite Nick’s experience with BPD, Ronan still had more field experience thanks to his training as a Navy SEAL and his tours in Afghanistan.
Nick had shown an acuity for financial management that had surprised even himself. He was the one who handled the company’s money, who made sure the investments looked legal on paper, who laundered questionable cash through real estate and other holdings, stashing it offshore where they could get to it if they decided to run.
He enjoyed the work, but sometimes energy coiled under his skin like a viper, a predator seeking the release of the hunt. Rugby helped. So did running, clocking miles around the city he loved until he came home loose and exhausted, all his restlessness spent.
“Please tell me you ordered more than one garlic bread,” Julia said as he and Elise spread out the food.
Nick placed a foil-wrapped packet in front of her. “I ordered more than one garlic bread.”
“Thank god. I’m craving carbs like you wouldn’t believe.” She opened the packet and tore off a piece of bread to feed to Chief. The dog snapped it up and trotted back to her bed — one of many in the house — to eat in peace.
Ronan looked at Julia. “Garlic bread? Really?”
“She likes it,” Julia said.
“You used to try and hide it at least.”
Ronan sounded miffed, but Nick knew better: if there was anyone his brother loved more than Chief, the dog who had gone into battle with him, it was his wife, the woman who’d waged a different kind of battle by his side. Ronan would have given his life for either of them without a second thought.
Julia stretched to kiss him. “I’ll try to hide it better next time, I promise.”
“Very funny.”
“Living room?” Declan asked.
“Living room,” Julia confirmed, easing off the stool. “These stools are killing my ass.”
They piled into the living room with their plates, the house filled with the sounds of bickering over what to watch with dinner, the clink of silverware on plates, the laughter of these people who were Nick’s family in every sense of the word.
He thought of Alexa Nash again and his worry returned, a bloom of dread in his chest. They hadn’t heard a word from her since the day she’d appeared in their office shortly after MIS had brought down Manifest, but Nick could feel her out there, circling his life like a shark biding its time.
Julia and Elise knew what to do if Nick, Ronan, and Declan were arrested. They knew how to run. But that’s not what any of them wanted: Ronan in prison while Julia raised their baby in some far-flung country, Elise’s plans to go back to school complicated by a need to hide and stay hidden for the rest of her life.
And there was something else, something unfinished under the layers of reason he’d built up over the years, the layers of logic. Something that whispered all the things he hadn’t yet experienced, the love he saw between Ronan and Julia, love that would stand the test of time, that would still be standing if Julia had to run without him.
Elise nudged his shoulder as they settled on the couch to watch The Real Housewives of New York. “What’s up?”
