“Flattery will get you nowhere with me.” I’m trying not to let my emotions run amok, but damn, it’s hard when he’s being so raw and kind at the same time.
He squeezes my hand. “You sure about that?”
A smile sneaks out. “No. Maybe not. Try giving me some more of it and we’ll see.” No man has ever said these things about me, ever. It’s intoxicating to be showered with such kindness. I don’t want it to end.
“I could spend a lifetime trying to figure you out, and I don’t think I’d ever get bored in the process.” He shakes his head. “Nope. My life could never be boring with you in it.”
I roll my eyes. “I think boring would be nice for a change, actually.”
He puts his arms around me. “Nah. Boring is boring.” He glances over at the bed. “Interested in trying to catch some Z’s? We probably have a couple hours before anyone gets here.”
“Only if you’ll lie next to me.”
“Deal.”
“I’m just going to move the baby over to the other bed,” I say, separating myself from him.
“Good idea. Then when you hog all the covers you won’t accidentally knock him off.”
I smile but keep my comments to myself. I love his teasing, but we still have the undercurrent of danger keeping me from being able to play along with him. I pull the bedding down to make room for us under the covers and donate two of the four pillows to the bed that will serve as a giant crib for the baby. I make sure he’s completely boxed in, even though he’s still too tiny to move much on his own.
“I’m worried he’s going to roll over and suffocate,” I say, staring down at him.
“He’s too little to move around too much, but I can put my shoes on either side of him to keep him from rolling over if it’ll make you feel better.”
I raise a brow at him. “You want to put your funky shoes next to my baby?”
“What? My shoes don’t stink. My feet smell like cotton candy.”
I laugh. “Boy, you’re crazy. Nobody’s feet smell like cotton candy.”
“Mine do.”
“Whatever. Just give me those funky shoes.” I hold my hand out.
He goes into the bathroom and comes out with two towels, wrapping his shoes up tightly. He positions them on either side of the baby’s blankets.
“Are you happy?” he asks, lying back on the bed, patting the spot next to him.
“Yes. And for your information, your shoes do not smell like cotton candy.”
“Whaaaat?”
“Unless the cotton candy sugar manufacturers came out with a new flavor called dirty gym-sock funk, and I just didn’t get the memo.”
“Get over here so I can give you a spanking,” he says, pointing at the bed.
I smile and walk over, moving my hips suggestively from side to side. “You’d better watch out. I’ve got a Toyota and I ain’t afraid to use it.”
He tries to grab me, making me shriek. I dance out of the way just in time.
“Shush!” he says, reaching for me more gently. “You’re going to wake the baby.”
I lie down next to him, placing my face on his chest. I run my hand over his tight ab muscles.
“Aw, damn,” he says, reaching down to rub his leg.
“What’s wrong?” I look up at his face.
“My knee. It’s killing me.”
“Poor baby. You were running pretty fast earlier. It was impressive, actually.”
“Yeah, I’m a stud, what can I say.”
I nudge him and smile.
“Adrenaline makes it easier, though, I have to admit. Now I’m paying for it.”
“You’re going to be really sorry tomorrow.” I lift my head to look at him. “Do you have any pills I can get for you?” I wish there was something I could do. His injury is worse because he put taking care of me ahead of his own health and comfort.
“I already took what I can for now.”
I put my head back down, snuggling into his side. “When are you going to get surgery?”
“I don’t know. When this is all over.”
“Are you going to last that long?”
“Trust me. I’ve got stamina.” He squeezes me suggestively.
“That sounds like fun. Stamina.”
He strokes my side and pulls my butt in toward him. “I’ll show you one day, if you behave yourself.”
I sigh. “I’ve never been very good at behaving myself.”
“That’s all right. I don’t want you to behave too much.”
For a long time, we remain silent and I think he’s fallen asleep. “Thibault?” I whisper.
“Yes?” he whispers back.
“I’m worried about something.” Knowing we might not have long together and that my days might be numbered makes it easier for me to share one of my deepest fears with him.
“About what, other than the obvious?”
“I’m worried about Tee. About who his father is.”
“Are you worried about him getting custody? Because I don’t think you need to. No judge in the world would give the baby to a criminal like him.”
“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean . . . he’s got Pavel’s DNA. What if he . . . I don’t know . . . has criminal tendencies?” I let out a long sigh. “I love my baby so much, and I hate having these thoughts in my head. It’s so not fair to him.”
Thibault pulls my head in and kisses it. “Not every baby is created out of a loving union. And who knows what turned Pavel into who he is? Maybe he was treated like an animal, and if someone had been nicer, he wouldn’t have turned out to be such a bad guy. Whatever. We don’t need to worry about him. Baby Tee came about as a result of a violent act, but that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with him or that his future isn’t one hundred percent bright. He was born a perfect, innocent angel, and he’s going to be raised by an amazing woman. He’s going to be a great kid; I can already see it in him.”
I’m tempted to cry over his kindness, because until I met him I didn’t have much of that in my life, but instead I laugh. The joy I’m feeling won’t let the tears come. “You’re crazy. He’s only opened his eyes two times in front of you.”
“Yeah, but I was there when he was born, and I’ve spent five solid days with his mom, and I can tell you that he’s got a really tough lady looking out for him, and she’s going to teach him the difference between right and wrong, between love and hate, between respect and disrespect. He’s going to be fine. Just like you.”
I want so badly for Thibault to be right. “You have a lot of faith in me.”
“You have a lot of faith in you too. I’ve seen it in action. No one can break your spirit; it’s too strong.”
“Sometimes I have faith in me and sometimes I don’t.”
“Well, whenever you don’t, you can just ask me for a pep talk.”
I almost don’t say what I’m thinking, and then I just figure—what the hell—why not go for broke? “Should I call you or just nudge you?” I ask.
“You can nudge me.”
I put my arms around him and hug him tight, tilting my head so I can see his face. We just took a step closer to what feels like a cliff together—a ledge so high up I can’t see what’s below it—and all he’s doing is smiling at me. “You’re crazy.”
“We’re both crazy.”
“I love crazy,” I whisper.
“Me too.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Thibault wakes up as the sun is rising, sliding his arm out from under my neck, trying not to wake me. I was up twice with the baby during the night, and I can barely keep my eyes open, but I’m too scared to sleep. I watch him go to the window and flick the curtain back.
Headlights swing into the parking lot.
“Who’s that?” I ask, sitting up.
“I recognize the car. It’s someone from my team.” He drops the curtain back into place and strides over to the bathroom. I can hear him running water and rinsing his mouth. I hurry and fix my clothing,
smoothing down my hair with the comb I put in the diaper bag.
Thibault walks over to the door and waits for a very slight tap that comes just a minute later. He taps once so lightly in response it could be mistaken for a sound in the night.
A man’s deep voice comes through the door. “It’s me.”
Thibault looks at me. “Ozzie.” He opens the door, revealing not just Ozzie, but Jenny, too. She’s carrying a laptop.
“Surprised to see me?” She comes in first, stopping to kiss Thibault on the cheek and patting him on the shoulder before she continues into the room. She puts her computer down on the little table and opens it up, taking a seat immediately. She glances across the room and waves her fingers at me. “Hi,” she whispers, glancing at the sleeping baby.
“Hey.” Ozzie holds out his hand and Thibault shakes it. Then he gets pulled into a half embrace. They smack each other on the back a few times before Ozzie comes into the room the rest of the way so Thibault can shut the door. He locks it behind him.
“All good in here?” Ozzie whispers.
“Yeah. We had a rough night with the baby, but we’re good.”
The four of us look at the bed where the little stinker is sleeping peacefully. You’d never know how effectively somebody that tiny can rule your world until you experience it in person. I’m still a little shocked at how awful sleep deprivation can be.
“I’ve got some things in the trunk for you, but I don’t think you’re going to be here for very long so I left them there,” Ozzie says.
Jenny says, “I’m just logging on to that cloud account real quick using a VPN so nobody can trace it back to us over here.”
“Did anybody happen to bring a toothbrush?” I ask, smacking my lips. My mouth tastes terrible.
Jenny pulls her purse off the back of the chair and holds it out at me. “Everything you should need is in here.”
“Thanks.” Thibault starts to hobble over to get the bag, but Ozzie cuts him off. He grabs the bag and brings it over to me. “You doing okay?”
I look up at him, taking in his height and breadth. It’s impressive. “I feel better now, to be honest.” I look at Thibault quickly, hoping he doesn’t take offense at that. “Not that I didn’t feel good with Thibault here to take care of me, but the more the merrier, right?”
“Absolutely.” Ozzie tips his head toward the bathroom. “Feel free to go do your thing. We’ve got about a half hour.”
“Half hour before what?” I pause at the bathroom door, waiting for his answer.
“I had a long conversation with the chief last night after midnight. NOPD. And then he got on the horn with some of his contacts at the FBI. Apparently there’s a team working on it now, with Holloway acting as point at the NOPD, and they want to talk to you.”
“What did you tell them?” Thibault asks.
“Not much. I wanted to talk to you guys first. But I did agree to a tentative meeting.” Ozzie looks at his watch. “It’s supposed to take place at oh-eight-hundred hours at a diner down off Highway 10.”
“How far away?” Thibault asks.
“Twenty miles, give or take.”
“Okay,” I say. “I can be ready by then.” I walk into the bathroom, but I leave the door open partway.
“So what’s up?” Thibault asks.
“Let’s wait for Mika. She needs to weigh in,” Ozzie says.
“Okay. But I think she’s ready to dive into this thing and get it done.”
“Yeah!” I say around my toothbrush. “I’m ready!” As ready as I’ll ever be.
“Oh, yeah?” Ozzie’s voice carries a challenge. I pause with my brushing. Is he talking to me?
“Did I miss something?” Jenny asks.
“Maybe,” Thibault says. He sounds unsure of himself. I slow down my teeth-brushing so I can be sure to hear.
“What’s going on, Thibault?” Jenny asks. “You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind.”
“I do, but now is not really the time to talk about it. We have other priorities.” There’s silence, and then Thibault speaks again. “What?” He sounds defensive.
“You got involved, didn’t you?” Ozzie asks.
I nearly choke on my toothpaste foam. They know I can hear them, right? I step to the side a little so they’ll see me more clearly as I lean over and spit into the sink. Maybe they didn’t realize I left the door open, but surely with the water running that was obvious . . .
“Of course I got involved. Look where I am.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it.”
“Wait a minute. Are you mad at him?” Jenny asks. “I don’t get it. What happened?”
“He got involved with a client. That’s not something we encourage at Bourbon Street Boys.”
I quickly rinse my mouth out. I need to defend Thibault. To explain . . .
“It’s not like I had a choice,” he says. “That stuff just happens sometimes.” He sighs. “I was minding my own business, and then out of the blue there she was, and suddenly I was delivering her baby. You don’t come away from that without having some sort of emotional attachment.”
I dry my mouth and turn off the water. It feels like time has slowed. What are they thinking? Do they hate me for bringing him into my problems, for making him have feelings for me? Do they think I somehow tricked him? Made this happen? Have ulterior motives?
Jenny’s voice is kind. “Aww, that’s so sweet. Honestly, I didn’t know you had it in you, Thibault.”
Her easy acceptance dissolves some of the tension in my chest. I step out of the bathroom and clear my throat to make sure they know I’m there.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Thibault asks.
None of them acknowledges my presence. I have the weirdest sensation of being a fly on the wall.
“Come on, you know . . . ,” Jenny says, finally glancing over at me before she continues. “You’re always such a tough guy about everything. I just figured you were going to be a confirmed bachelor . . . Single for the rest of your life.”
“Do you hear her?” Thibault says to Ozzie, sounding incredulous.
“Yeah, I heard her. And I felt the same way.”
“What? You guys think I have a heart of stone? That I’m some kind of player or something?” He turns and looks at me as if I have an explanation for their behavior. All I can do is shrug.
“No, no, nooo,” Jenny says. She gets up and moves closer to him. “I didn’t mean that at all. Don’t be mad. You just seemed so focused on work, and then the only other people you had time for in your life were Melanie and Victor. You don’t even like coming to the pizza parties.”
“What are you talking about? I like the pizza parties.” He sounds almost hurt by her accusation.
Ozzie snorts. “Be honest.”
“What? Come on, I like the pizza parties.” His voice downshifts. “Okay, so they’re a little loud and there’re a lot of kids running around . . . But I like kids.”
There’s a long pause while they all look at one other and then down at Tee watching from the bed. For once his eyes are open.
“Jesus, you guys know I like kids. I’m Melanie’s and Victor’s favorite uncle.”
“That’s true,” Jenny says, looking at Ozzie and then me. “He is their favorite uncle.”
“He’s their only uncle,” Ozzie says dryly.
“Yeah, but even if there were ten guys lining up with uncle status, I’d still be number one.” He sounds very proud of himself.
“You’re right,” Jenny says. “You’re absolutely right. I’m sorry I judged you the way I did. That was unfair of me.”
“I’ve known you for a long time,” Ozzie says after a long pause.
“Yeah. So?” Thibault is on the defensive.
“I’ve never seen you go soft on anybody like you are with this girl.” He looks at me. “No offense.”
I raise my hands. “None taken.” Not really. I can appreciate their protective feelings toward him. If he
were my best friend, I wouldn’t want him hanging around with me, either. I’d want to keep him far, far away from any and all bad influences, because he’s a pretty special guy.
“I’m not going soft.” Thibault comes over and takes me by the hand, pulling me farther into the room. My heart is racing. I can’t believe he’s standing up for me. “I just care about Mika and Tee. I worry about them, and I want to make sure they’re okay. Is there something wrong with that?”
“And then what?” Ozzie asks. “Are you gonna walk away?” He looks at me. “Are you?”
I open my mouth to respond, to assure them that I’m not going to hurt this man who’s being so kind to me, but Thibault beats me to it.
“I don’t know.” He sounds uncomfortable. He lets go of my hand and crosses his arms over his chest. “I guess we’ll see when that happens.”
I feel terrible that he’s being forced into this conversation that he clearly doesn’t want to have. My stress level is rocketing upward. Tee starts to wiggle around, a prelude to fussing.
“I don’t think it’s going to be that simple,” Ozzie says. “Not this time. Not in this situation.”
“What do you mean?” Thibault sounds suspicious.
“This is an FBI case. They need her to testify.”
“So? She’ll testify.”
“Her life is going to be in danger for the foreseeable future. She’s going to have to go into protective custody.”
My ears are burning. I already know all this, but hearing him say it and putting Thibault on the spot with it is making me feel sick to my stomach and in my heart.
“Fine. I’ll just . . . I don’t know.” He sounds disgusted. “Maybe I’ll go with her. I’ll take a leave of absence and help her get settled in. Or maybe I’ll stay. I don’t know.”
I have to work to keep my mouth shut and the tears away. First I hit him with my car, and now I’ve forced him into a corner: walk away from a promise to me or a lifetime of friendship. For another man, it might be an easy decision, but not for this one. I hate that I’ve put him in this position.
“For how long?” Ozzie asks. “These cases can go on for years.”
“Do you really think you could leave Bourbon Street Boys for a couple years?” Jenny asks, sounding shocked.