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Sixteen
Damian steppedfrom the shower and got dressed in the empty bedroom. He hadn’t expected Aria to be there when he finished showering. He’d gotten used to the fact that she would never remain asleep when he was leaving the house to risk hislife.
And he would almost always be risking his life when he lefther.
He would have preferred to see her sleeping in their bed, her face peaceful, the shadows of her long eyelashes playing on hercheeks.
But if she couldn’t come with him, she would do whatever possible to be with him in solidarity — even if it was just to wake up and make coffee, let him hold her one more time before he walked out thedoor.
The house was already beginning to lighten, the rising sun casting pillars of gold onto the tile floor when he made his way into the living room. Aria stood with her back to him as she poured two cups of coffee. He was going to sneak up on her from behind, pull her sleep-warm body into his and inhale her scent, but she turned toward him before he gotthere.
She held out one of the cups. “Goodmorning.”
He approached her slowly, took the coffee from her hand and set it on the counter before tucking her into hisarms.
“Goodmorning.”
She smelled like fresh laundry and thesea.
Like the love of hislife.
“Sleep well?” she asked, looking uphim.
He nodded and kissed her, then pulled back a little to look down at her face. “We’re always saying goodbye in thekitchen.”
She smiled a little. “Not goodbye, Damian. Nevergoodbye.”
He nodded. “You’ll be okay here withNora?”
She nodded. “Ofcourse."
They needed Cole in Athens. They had no idea what they were getting into with the strip club, but they had to assume it would be well fortified if Anastos was really hidingthere.
Nora had been a blessing in more ways than one. Her background with the FBI gave Damian an extra layer of confidence in her ability to look after Aria, although he knew Aira would balk if he said it outloud.
In her eyes, she was more than capable of taking care of herself, and while he didn’t refute her skill with a weapon or her courage, he knew that practice was often different from real life. He’d known expert marksmen who had hesitated a moment too long when under fire, had known women highly trained in martial arts who had become so paralyzed during an assault they couldn’t scream, let alone execute the movements that would have fended off theirattacker.
Aria had proven her willingness to risk her life for his, but it was impossible to know how she would react under direct attack until it happened. Response was forged in the fire of experience, and he had no desire to see Aria tested that way. He wasn’t a praying man, but if he were, he would have asked that he never find out what she was capableof.
Nora had been field trained and tested by the Bureau, had been working with Locke’s outfit for the last year. She wasn’t Cole, but she was a solid second choice for protectingAria.
‘Will you text or call when it’s done?” Ariaasked.
She would want to know he was safe — and then she would want to know if Anastos wasdead.
“You’ll be the first to know,” hesaid.
There were a thousand questions in her eyes as she looked up at him. A thousand reassurances she needed but wouldn’t askfor.
This was their life. They were both getting used toit.
Damian to worrying about her, to remembering in a panic that he had something precious tolose.
Aria to kissing him goodbye, knowing he might find himself under fire, that he might not come home toher.
She wrapped her arms around him and lay her head on hischest.
“I loveyou.”
