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They would end the trip back in Marseille, and they’d fly first class back to the U.S., an auspicious start to their life.
They’d have homes in France and Spain, and they’d spend the early days of their marriage traveling, enjoying the nightlife, and making love all night. He would start a business, an international investment firm, and maybe he’d start a foundation for homeless street kids like he was. The kids would see that their circumstances could change if they had the right help.
Then one day, in the middle of their world tour, she’d realize she hadn’t gotten her period. He would be so delighted and take care of her through all nine months, decorating a nursery, holding her hand the whole time, and being a birthing coach.
They would have several children, and they’d settle down. They’d have long conversations about where to make their home base, and they might change their mind. Anywhere they were, though, there would be life, sun, beaches, and each other.
As a dad, he’d be fun but firm and always loving. He’d be awed by the novelty of seeing his own face in the expression of someone else, knowing they were bound not just by love but by blood. They’d call him catbirdbrain, and he’d pretend to be incensed by it, which they would find hilarious.
They’d have three children and think they were done. But then they’d discover she was going to have a fourth, and they’d be as thrilled as they were nervous.
He’d show them Pere Lachaise and, amid the lipstick-kissed sculpture marking Oscar Wilde and the booze-festooned headstone of Jim Morrison, tell the story of how their grandpa saved his life and then how his mother changed him forever.
They’d have decorations in their house from all the places they’d been, and the kids would be expert travelers at an extremely young age. They would be nomads with a home base, speak several languages even before most kids mastered their first, and have the benefit of growing up seeing two parents who fell more in love every day.
She pictured them growing old, their children graduating high school, then college. Maybe they’d go to the Sorbonne or Stanford. Would they be shifters too?
He clutched her hand.
“What do you think, Mickey?”
It always surprised her the way he grabbed her hand so delicately. He had so much raw power, so much animal sexuality, and yet when he took her hand, it was like he was cradling a baby bird with an injured wing.
“Huh? What do I think? About what?”
“You feeling okay? You seem a little out of it.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just want to get this all over with.”
He frowned, not with an expression of hurt feelings but of concern over the wall that had gone up around her. They were lovers who realized the strength of their connection during the rare times it was interrupted because it felt so alien to both of them.
She didn’t realize that he’d been talking this whole time. While in her happy fantasy, she’d been nodding, saying, “uh-huh,” every once in a while, without even realizing it.
“Beautiful human brain,” he said, chuckling to himself.
“Anyway, what were you asking about? Sorry, I’m just tired. I got distracted. Looking at the scenery, I think I almost dozed off,” she lied.
“Just talking nonsense about what we do next, nothing important,” Strap said, giving her hand a squeeze, then rubbing his thumb reassuringly against hers.
She, too, was thinking about what to do next. She could spend the rest of her life with him. But she had gotten used to people leaving her, and it gave her a talent for moving on. She could see him as her husband … till death did they part … or she could see him as her lost true love. No matter what, though, she’d be keeping this fake engagement ring from her real-life love.
“Well, I guess we look at the blueprints and match them to the surveillance and the intel we’ve gathered.”
“No, I meant … what should I make for dinner? I could braise more rabbit, or I could make us a Moroccan tagine.”
“Tagine sounds amazing.”
She realized how hungry she was. She hadn’t even imagined the gourmet meals he could cook as her husband.
TWENTY-THREE
STRAP
“Well, that was a unique experience,” Strap said as they entered their rental home. He tossed a few pieces of equipment onto the couch and fell into a chair beside her.
Mickey was digging through her equipment. If Strap hadn’t seen her burglarizing or attempting to, he would have believed her to be a tech genius at a big corporation. Instead, Strap saw her wasting her intelligence and youth being a crook.
Strap shook his head, unhappy with the outcome. He didn’t want her in this occupation. He didn’t want this kind of life anymore. His panther roared, and his condor clicked his beak at the thought of Mickey in danger.
