His Saint (Forever Wilde 5)

“You are so damned cute right now,” I said quietly as I reached out to wash him off. “Go to sleep. I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s what I thought last time,” he said.

“Neckie had the baby,” I said. “I had to leave. MJ needed me. I didn’t want to wake you up, so I left a note.”

Augie studied me for a beat before speaking again. “You did?”

“Yes. It’s still in there, on the sink. You didn’t see it?”

He put his hands over his face and groaned before smiling. “The mechanic came yesterday before I had a chance to shower, so I didn’t see it. Then I fell asleep downstairs last night. Oh my god.”

After tossing the towel on the floor, I crawled back into bed until we were lying on our sides facing each other. “You thought I just left with no note?” I asked.

“Well, yeah. What else was I supposed to think? When I woke up, you were gone.”

He had a point.

I reached out to run my fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have done that to you, Augie.”

He leaned forward to kiss me sweetly before pulling back and settling on the pillow again. I reached out to trace the antique key resting in the hollow of his throat with my finger.

Augie’s voice was sleepy and relaxed. “Tell me about the baby. What happened? Why were you so upset?”

I told him everything that had happened at Neckie’s since I’d left his bed the previous morning. When I got to the part about the baby being West and Nico’s, his eyes widened in surprise.

“Did you know?”

“I found out the other night. I didn’t know before that. Poor MJ. But I think it’s going to work out for the two of them.”

Augie reached out to take my hand, threading our fingers together lightly. “How do you feel about it?”

The worry lines reappeared over his brow, and I leaned forward to kiss them. “These damned quotation marks,” I murmured. His skin tasted like the perfect mix of sweet Augie and salty skin, and I wanted more. But I also needed to ask him about his family foundation and their association with Community Surge Properties.

“I have mixed feelings,” I explained, putting off the topic change because I was a coward. “I empathize with MJ, but I’m also thrilled for West and Nico.”

“I hope Rory and Kat have kids one day,” Augie said. “I’d like to be an uncle at least.”

“Do you want kids?”

“Mmm. Well, kind of.”

I reached out to caress his cheek. “Explain kind of.”

His eyes met mine before glancing away. “I want to give a child the love my dad gave me. Make their childhood safe and warm and… easy. Tell them they could do or be anything they wanted and I’d support them.”

“I think you’d make an amazing father, Augie,” I said softly.

“I’d fuck it up.”

I scooted even closer to him and kissed his cheek. “You’d nail it.”

“You’d be better at it,” he said. “You’d be a fun dad. You’d make them laugh and take them on adventures.”

“You’d be loving and understanding. The dad who reads interesting stories at night and has the patience to listen to a twenty-minute monologue about playground politics.”

Augie’s eyes locked on mine, which had the usual effect of making my heart take up more space in my chest.

“Sounds like a good combination,” he murmured before blushing deep down to the roots of his hair. “I mean… I didn’t mean…”

I leaned in and kissed him again, letting my gentle laughter escape into his mouth. “I know you weren’t suggesting getting me pregnant, Augie.”

He lost himself in the kiss until pulling back. “Not that I would mind trying. I can just imagine you with Neckie’s big belly.” His grin was adorable, and I hated to spoil the mood. But I really needed to ask him about his family.

“Do you do any work with your family foundation?”

His smile dropped. “Other than volunteer with some of the beneficiaries, no. I’m not even on the board.”

“Do you know a company called CSP? It stands for Community Surge Properties.”

His forehead crinkled. “No. What’s this about?”

I propped myself up on my elbow. “The Stiel Foundation contributes to CSP. It’s a nonprofit that’s supposed to be creating low-income housing. But records show it’s actually doing the opposite. It’s taking historic properties, getting them approved for the designation change to low-income community-beneficial housing, and then selling them on to commercial developers.”

Augie sat up and moved back until he was sitting against the headboard. I pulled the thick bedding up to cover him from the chilly room air.

“How are they getting away with that?” he asked.

I shrugged. “It’s buried fairly deeply behind legal entities, but it seems like there’d still need to be someone at the county level aware of what’s going on. I’m not sure.”