“For?”
“Your super sperm.”
I laugh, and he kisses my chin and my cheeks and my forehead. “Thank you,” he says again, and it’s fiercely whispered against me, like it’s a secret. Like it’s a prayer. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”
Life can turn on a dime.
But if you’ve got someone at your side, someone who holds you up when your knees go weak, someone who kisses you every time like it’s the first time, there’s a chance you’ll make it.
I’ve got this.
Whatever might come, I’ve got this.
Because he’s by my side.
He’s up and over the back of the couch, landing on top of me. I complain, telling him he’s too heavy. He laughs against my throat, both of us knowing I’m full of shit. And when he raises himself to rest on his elbows, thumbs tracing over my eyebrows, I tell him I love him because he deserves to hear it as much as possible.
He grins crookedly. “I know. And it’s the best thing you’ve ever given me.”
And maybe we made out on the couch after that, because I couldn’t not. I dare anyone to not try and mack on his face after hearing him say such things.
Impossible. Trust me on that.
8. Where Bear Makes a Promise
JULIE MCKENNA had died five days before Izzie showed up on our doorstep. It was a Sunday, and she’d been at the restaurant where she’d worked as a waitress. Maybe it was the years of smoke and booze, or maybe it was just her time. She’d been carrying a tray of food, and it’d crashed to the floor when she collapsed.
A massive cardiac event, we’re told when we track her to the hospital where she’d been taken. She was pronounced dead shortly after arriving. There was nothing that could have been done. The woman is apologetic over the phone, and even though I want to tell her it’s nothing, I’ve already identified myself as her son. It wouldn’t be right. She’s just doing her job.
Izzie had been out for the summer already when she’d gotten the call at home. She’d been by herself. It was Mom’s boss who’d told her. He’d said he was sorry, he was very sorry. Because of course he was. He was calling to tell a little girl her mother was dead. He’d asked if there was someone else he could call, someone who could come and pick her up. Someone who could stay with her.
He didn’t know that there wasn’t anyone else. Not in Idaho, at least.
No, she’d told him. He didn’t need to do that. She’d take care of it.
And she had. The moment she’d gotten off the phone, she’d gone into the kitchen and found the tin that Julie kept a few spare twenties in. She’d loaded her backpack as full as she could while still being able to zip it closed. She’d locked the door to the house and walked three miles to the bus station. She’d said her mom was in the bathroom and that she was buying the ticket for her. She’d bought a ticket to Redmond, Oregon, as far as the money could get her. Then she’d boarded the bus, sitting at the back, clutching her backpack so no one would steal it. She’d brought five granola bars, three apples, and two water bottles.
In Redmond, she’d widened her eyes and stuck out her bottom lip and found a family willing to take her west. She’d ditched them in Mapleton, twelve miles outside of Seafare, after hearing the adults talking about calling the police. She’d walked the rest of the way until she’d stood on the doorstep of the Green Monstrosity, dirt smudged on her face, hair flat on her head, sweat beading on her top lip.
She’s with Ty in the backyard when I hang up the phone with the hospital. Otter’s sitting at my side at the kitchen table, his hand a heavy weight on my knee. Dom’s leaning against the counter in uniform, his shift starting in another hour or so.
“Her body is still in the morgue,” I say. “Because they couldn’t find anyone to claim it. I don’t even think anyone was looking for Izzie.”
“I’ll make a few phone calls when I get to the station,” Dom says. “See if anyone reported her missing.”
I smile gratefully at him. “Thanks. It’ll help, I think.”
“Any other family?”
I shake my head. “Not for us. Nobody that ever stuck around, anyway. And she says that her dad has been gone for years.”
“We need to call Erica,” Otter says. “Get the ball rolling. And if she can’t help us, Anna will find someone that can.”
“It’s that easy for you?” Dom asks, sounding a little surprised.
I glance at Otter before looking back at Dom. “What is?”
“Izzie,” he says. “Her, being here. Especially with—you’ve got twins coming.”