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“Oh.” Suddenly I didn’t know what to do with my hands. I shoved them in my pockets. But they were full. I ran them through my hair. Wrapped them around my ribs. And tried not to think how humiliating it was to be the biggest idiot in the room.

“Trayton, we have to go,” I said, without looking at him.

“Okay. See you in a few.”

“Yeah.”

“Lucille?”

I turned to him.

“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.” He really did look apologetic. “If there’s another way to break this hold Disa’s got on Vayl, and I can do anything to help, believe me, I’ll be there.”

“Okay. Thanks. Get some damn sleep, wouldja?” I made sure the door was locked behind us and joined Vayl as he walked back toward our suite. Since I wasn’t ready to talk about our relationship and how much I sucked at it, I said, “What did Niall tell you about Disa and Blas?”

“It was much as we had thought,” Vayl replied. “Blas planned the coup, with Disa as his cohort. They took out the majority of the Trust’s fighters together, and then she turned on him. Niall thought he was dead.”

“What a great liar he turned out to be,” I said. “He sure had me going.”

“I agree. So if you see him again, shoot to kill.”

“Will do. And, about the other matter . . .” He waited, not blowing it off like I’d hoped, making me hunt for the right words. I can honestly say, when my phone rang, I was never so relieved to answer it despite the fact that my father was at the other end of the line.

“Jaz, can you talk?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m in trouble.”

“I thought you said—”

“Naw, things are still calm on that front. It’s your sister.”

“Evie called? How’s she doing?”

“Fine. Except she wants me to come down next month for a family portrait. Tim’s parents will be in town, so she’s made an appointment with this big-wig photographer. I thought this Grandpa crap was supposed to be fun!”

“It’s all in how you see it.”

“Give me an excuse to stay home.”

“Albert, you need to be in the picture. Literally. Evie will cry if you don’t come. On the phone. To me. So go, and find a way to have fun.”

“Well, it might be okay if Shelby and I can sneak E.J. off to the park for a couple of hours. Old gals love the babies.”

“There you go. Use your granddaughter to pick up women. That’ll get you points in heaven.”

“It’s better than sitting around the house with Lemon Lips and Pencil Head!” Tim’s mom and dad were way uptight compared to our clan. His mother, Alice, kept her lips puckered in a permanent expression of disapproval. She was always saying, “Bless your heart,” but somehow you knew it meant, “You’re going straight to hell.” And her hubby, Reverend Lester, really did look like you could turn him upside down and use his round, bald dome as an eraser. They’d probably been a couple of firebrands in their younger days. But they’d had Tim late in life, and evidently raising him had worn them out.

“Okay, sounds like a plan to me.”

Moment of silence. Why were they always so uncomfortable lately? I waited until Albert said, “So. About your brother.”

“Yeah?”

“Opinions vary.”

“They would.”

“Some say you should help him relive the event in a safe way, where he has control. So he can see how it really was.”

“I don’t see how I can do that from our present location.”

“I thought you might say that.”

“Any other ideas?”

“Lots of talk. Now. When he goes back to work. In the years to come. Also, there’s a program I’ve signed him into. He won’t be happy about it, but it’ll keep him in the service and on his team.”

“So what should I do?”

“You’re the one who has to get him started. You know, with the blabbing.”

After another long pause he said, “Jazzy? You still there?”

“Oh, that’s going to be a cinch! Why don’t you just ask me to fly to Mars and get you a few ice cubes for your tea?”

“Hey, you’re the one who called me! So quit your bitching and get on it!” What. An. Asshole! “Well?”

“Oh, all right! God! Were you always such a prick or was it something you had to practice for an hour every day?”

To my surprise, he laughed. “Talk to you later,” he said, and then he hung up. As I stared at the phone I realized I had another message from Cole. In an effort to put off my coming conversation with Vayl even longer, I pulled it up.

Mark’s long overdue. (Sigh.) I’ve named my steering wheel Lucretia. Don’t be jealous. She’s just a fling.

Oh, Cole, what am I going to do with you?

We’d made it back to the suite by now. Vayl opened the door for me. Feeling like a condemned woman trudging to the gallows, I walked through. And jumped about a foot off the ground when I felt a pinch on the butt as I passed.

“Aah!” I spun around. “Did you just—?” Vayl put both hands up like I’d just attempted to mug him. “Stop smirking!” I demanded. “There’s nobody here but you!”

“What is a small tweak between partners?”

“Are we? I mean, we are, but can we be? I don’t . . . Vayl, my life’s been in the crapper so long, I’m honestly not sure I remember how. I thought I’d torn myself free of that safe house where it all went down. But it’s still got me by the ankles.”

“Yes, well, perhaps I was too harsh with you before. It seems to me that your heart may be leading you to a new dwelling.”

“Yeah?”

He tugged at a curl as he walked past me. “You seem to have taken to Trayton. Bergman and Cassandra are fond of you. And that idiot, Cole.”

I shut the door. Not quite a slam, but almost. “Would you knock it off about him? He’s harmless!”

“Do you see what I mean? You leap to his defense in what I would call a loyal gesture. Something a friend would do.”

I threw up my hands and strode away from him, at a loss to see how I could make him understand. The fountain stared impassively at me until I wanted to knock her head off. Instead I crossed my eyes at her. I also considered flipping her off, but thought better of it since Vayl would probably catch the gesture and how would I explain the crazy out of that? I turned around. “I care to a point,” I acknowledged, “and then I stop.”

Vayl came toward me slowly, as if he thought I might feel threatened by his approach. My throat did kind of close once he hit the three-foot mark. And when he murmured, “Sit,” I plopped into the chair like my knees had turned to tapioca.

He sat opposite me, pulling his seat so close that our legs brushed against each other as he leaned forward. “What?” I asked as his eyes stared into mine and I could no longer bear the silence.

“You have been through a great deal in such a short time. More than any one person should have to bear.” He opened his hands and the relief I felt when I slid mine into his was like coming up for air after diving into a deep, dark pool. “You are not alone anymore. I will never leave you. All you have to do is pick up the phone to be surrounded by people who care for you. Friends.”

“Like you?”

He nodded. “If you would allow me to take the first step.”

“Which is what? A pinch on the butt?”

He shrugged, the dimple on his cheek making a rare appearance. “Was I out of line, then?”

“Hell, yeah. Nobody pinches my ass until they first buy me a waffle cone full of cookie dough ice cream.”

“I had no idea you enjoyed that flavor.”

“Well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me. And vice versa.”

“We do have a great deal to learn.”

I looked down at our intertwined fingers. “This isn’t always going to be easy for me. I’m . . . sort of queasy about the idea of being close to people again.”