She pressed closer, her eyes grew warm and intense and she asked, “Are you good?”
“Absolutely.”
He knew she knew he did not lie when he watched her face go soft and she whispered, “I love you, Raiden.”
“I know you do, honey. That’s why I’m absolutely good.”
Hanna smiled.
Raid asked, “You think I can fuck you without you giving me a head injury with that cast when you latch onto my hair?”
Her smile changed as her eyes grew excited.
“I can try, but you should know, my ribs aren’t one hundred percent,” she warned.
To that, he rolled into her, but he did it carefully. Then he shoved his face in her neck.
“I’ll take that into account.”
From the floor, they heard an insistent, “Meow.”
Raid’s hands up her tank, Hanna’s fingers drifting over his back, Raid lifted his head, found her mouth and the fat cat had to wait a long time for breakfast.
He survived.
Epilogue
She Was Always Right
Three years, two months and two weeks later…
I moved out of the kitchen at Grams’s place, into the hall and stopped.
Raiden was crouched in the hall, head turned to me, camera in one hand. He lifted his other hand and put a finger to his lips.
I tiptoed his way and peeked around the doorway he was crouched in front of. I took in the scene and smiled.
Grams was in her chair, Raid and my baby boy, Clayton, in her arms. The lights from the Christmas tree we’d only just finished putting up in the window were twinkling into the room. Spot was dozing on the arm of Grams’s chair.
“So then, I walked in the backdoor of Momma and Pop’s house, still smoking, mind, and I asked Momma, ‘What’s for dinner?’” I heard Grams saying to a Clay, who, being only three months old and also snoozing, had no clue.
I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing.
The struck by lightning story.
I heard Raiden’s camera going.
“I know you’re there,” Grams stated, not looking our way.
One hundred and one years old, and still the hearing of a German shepherd, and now proof she had eyes in the side of her head.
I bit my lip harder and looked down at my husband.
His head was tipped back to me and he was grinning.
Then he looked back to the sight of his camera and kept clicking.
*
Three hours later…
I felt Raid fit his front to my back and his arms come around me.
Then I felt his lips at the skin below my ear.
“You know, he can sleep without your help,” he whispered there.
I didn’t take my eyes off my baby boy lying asleep in his crib.
“I know,” I whispered back. “But I’m sure me standing here watching him helps him to have sweet dreams.”
His arms tensed around me and his voice was rumbling when he replied, “I’m sure too.”
There was something more in those words. Something that made me melt further into him.
Something I knew had to do with the fact Raiden hadn’t had a nightmare for years.
It wasn’t me who got rid of them. It was him working through things with Hal.
Still, Raiden gave me the credit.
We stood there for a good long while, our eyes on the tiny little living, breathing dream we created.
Raiden broke the moment.
“Could do this all night with you, honey, but we gotta talk,” he told me.
Before I could reply, he moved away, his hand curled around mine and he tugged me out of the nursery to our bedroom. He went direct to the bed, sat on the edge and started to fall back, taking me with him.
I landed on top of him and we stretched out.
I lifted up on a forearm in his chest and smiled down at him.
“How long is this talk going to take?” I asked, my free hand moving down his side.
He grinned up at me and lifted a hand to tuck my hair behind my ear. “Not long.”
“Good, because Clay’ll be up soon, and it’s my turn to feed him so I need some shuteye,” I told him, my body shifting so my hand could move over his stomach before it changed directions and started down.
His head on the pillow cocked to the side.
Hot.
Why did I love that?
It didn’t matter. I just did.
“You goin’ for shuteye, babe, or are you goin’ for my dick?”
I dipped my face closer to his and I also dipped my voice quieter. “Me having the latter makes the former better.”
My hand slid in his pajama pants and I found him hard.
His eyes flashed.
“Jesus, baby,” he growled.
His arms, having been around me, moved so his hands could cup my behind.
I stroked, a rumble hit his chest and I prompted, “You wanted to talk?”
Raiden rolled us, one of his hands slid over my belly and right into my pajama bottoms, under my panties and in.
My eyes went half-mast and I bit my lip.
Then I stroked.
Raid whirled.
Oh God.
“You going to talk?” I breathed as I lifted my hips to get more of his fingers.
He whirled again, which made me stroke again at the same time press up, feeling his hips push into my hand.
“Change of plans,” he announced.
“No talking?” I asked hopefully.
“No. No retirement at forty.”