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I didn’t want him to.
* * *
“Felicity!”
Xander’s voice jolted me from a dreamless sleep. His hand was firm on my shoulder, shaking gently but urgently.
I sat up with a start, blinking against the darkness of the room that surrounded me.
“What’s wrong?” My eyes were aching and sore. I couldn’t tell how long I’d been asleep for, only that it wasn’t long enough. But the pounding of my heart banished any chance that I’d fall back asleep again.
Had something gone wrong? Were we under attack?
Above me, I could just barely make out the features of Xander’s face. His eyes were unusually wide, gleaming with a nervous energy I’d never seen in them before.
“It’s the boys, Cheeks.” He squeezed my shoulders a little tighter and pressed a fast, hard, and impulsive kiss to my cheek. “Denny’s guys in Texas—they found them.”
The pounding in my chest turned to an intense flutter, only partly from the kiss.
“You’re sure?”
Nausea tap danced with excitement deep in my stomach. I didn’t think I could bear a false alarm.
“There’s movement at Melony’s ranch. They think it’s her,” Xander said. “But we have go now, Cheeks. If they’re right—”
“Of course.” I kicked away the covers and sprang from the bed. “Just let me grab the diaper bag. I’ll be ready in five.”
In a mad flurry, we dressed and rushed downstairs. With every step I took, my heart beat a little louder in my ears.
Ryder. Rylan.
It was finally happening.
We were getting our sons back.
Chapter11
Xander
The plane was a red-eye to Dallas. While I drove to Boston Logan, Felicity ordered our tickets on my phone. One for me, one for her, one for Denny.
“The plane’s pretty full,” she said, scrolling through the seat selection. “We won’t be able to sit together, but I suppose that doesn’t matter. Wait, unless we spring for economy plus—”
“Is there anything in business?” I asked.
“I’ll check.” She did. “No, sorry. Only first class.”
“Then, book first class.” Before she could worry about the cost, I added, “If I’ve gotta be airborne, I don’t wanna be squeezed between some juicy-thighed cowboy and a lady who takes her socks off the second we strap in.” I glanced over at her, chewing the inside of my cheek. “Don’t think less of me if I need my barf bag.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Xander, do you not like flying?”
“I wouldn’t say that,” I mused, squeezing the steering wheel like it was about to float away. “Hate’s a stronger word. And therefore, probably more appropriate.”
Despite my apprehension toward the mode of transport we were about to fling our bodies onto, Felicity checked us in online. We parked in long-term and zipped through security with ease. With only the diaper bag as a carry-on, it was just a matter of slipping off our shoes before heading through the scanners, then lacing them back up on the other side.
“This is so…nice.” Felicity’s voice trembled as we waited for our plane to pull into the gate—maybe a little from excitement, but probably more from nerves. “The last time I was in a lounge, I was just a snot-nosed little kid. They’re fancier than I remember.”
“Not how I would’ve liked you to experience it for the first time as an adult but, hey, at least the champagne’s free.” I swiped a bottle from the self-service bar and poured us each a glass.
