Damn. He hadn't wanted that. "I didn't call in favors for myself," he said. "I just wanted the others to get out of this mess with their jobs and their pensions intact."
"Well, first off, I don't think anybody did you any favors, Wyatt, since you're eventually going to have to go back to work under Deputy Director Crandall."
Good point.
"Besides, they weren't doing it out of friendship." She gently ran the tips of her soft fingers over his palm, every stroke reminding him of how much he needed her hand to be wrapped in his. "It was about nothing more than the fact that you do an excellent job. Eventually everyone had to acknowledge that you saved my life." She shrugged modestly. "I made a very good witness, if I do say so myself"
He laughed deeply. "I'm sure you did. You're very good at arguing your case. I can't imagine anybody refusing you anything."
She shifted a little so she could look up at him; that beautiful face, made even more so by trauma and grief, now shone with warmth and happiness.
"Does that mean if I ask you nicely, we can get another beach house, maybe on the Maryland shore this time?"
Knowing what she was saying, what she was offering, he tenderly brushed his fingers through her hair. "We don't have to get rid of the Maine house. I know you love it."
Serious, intent, she said, "Yes, we do. It was my crutch, and it was your cross. Neither of us needs it anymore."
"No, I suppose we don't," he admitted. "Absolutely the only thing we need is each other."
