“Fuck no.”
“Wait.”
He stood up. “No fuckin’ way, Miro.”
“Why?”
“You’ll be taking care of kids.”
“Exactly.”
“Yeah, that’s not gonna work.”
“And why’s that?”
“You know why.”
“Clearly not,” I said indignantly.
“Don’t do that,” he cautioned. “It’s not the right choice for you, period.”
“It’s not for you to say.”
“Oh no?” he said dramatically.
“Just—”
“You can’t do that. It’s not a good place for you.”
“Kage seems to think it is.”
“Well, Mills is the one who—”
“We both know that Kage eats Mills for lunch, and besides, I don’t know how much longer he’s even gonna have a job. I wouldn’t get too cozy with him.”
“I don’t give a shit about Mills,” he snapped, starting to pace. “Or me. I only care about you, and you in Custodial is a very bad idea.”
“What’s your problem with Custodial?”
“That should be obvious.”
“No,” I answered irritably. He’d never doubted my abilities before; I was at a loss to understand why he didn’t think I was up to the challenge of working with minors. “It’s not. Explain what you’re thinking.”
“Can you not see that you’re gonna get hurt?”
“How? I get a paper cut or something?”
“Don’t be an ass,” he hissed, the anger bubbling in his voice.
“I’m not trying to be. I’m really trying to figure out what you’re talking about.”
He took hold of my arms, staring into my face. “You will get hurt because you’ll get invested with the kids like you always do, and when things go wrong—again, because they always do—you’re gonna be devastated.”
I absorbed that, rolled it around in my head a second, him thinking I would be emotionally devastated if something were to happen to one of the kids. And while he was right—yes, it would hurt—that was part of putting yourself out there in any kind of relationship, be it personal or professional. It didn’t in any way change the need to act. “Are you serious?”
The answering growl told me he was.
“For crissakes, Ian,” I sighed, cupping his face in my hands. “Of course I’m gonna get hurt, but that’s part of it, right?”
“No,” he retorted, visibly choked up, easing out of my hands and taking several steps back. “You were a foster kid, Miro. You remember what it was like to have no one and be homeless—how are reminders like that good for you?”
“They’re not,” I agreed. “But they also make me damn empathetic, right?”
He shook his head. “That’s not our deal.”
“Deal? What deal?” I rasped, frustrated because it was like pulling teeth. He was being so closed off.
“You’re my partner.”
“Yeah, and you’re mine,” I reminded him. “I’ll bet you right now that Kage expects you to go with me today to start talking to the kids.”
“Which is fine for today,” he said pointedly. “But that’s it.”
“I’m the interim director.”
His scowl was dark.
“Speak.”
“You have to tell Kage to find someone else.”
“Oh? Just tell Kage?”
“Yeah.”
“Ian, I—”
“No. If you tell him you can’t because of being in foster care yourself, he’ll listen.”
“But that would be a lie.”
“I don’t care. I don’t want you to do it, so whatever you have to do to get out of it is fine with me.”
“And what if it’s not fine with me?”
He shook his head.
“Ian, you—”
“No,” he insisted, and I could hear the hard edge of anger in his voice. “I won’t let you do this to yourself. This is bullshit.”
“You can’t be serious,” I pressed, certain he would snap out of feeling like this at any second because it was so illogical.
“Oh, I’m dead serious,” he countered, and I heard how dug in he was, how he was so sure he was right.
“Ian, come on, this isn’t like you.”
“I have a say now,” he reminded me implacably. “We’re not just partners. We’re married, and my opinion means something.”
“It always meant something!”
“Yeah, but now there’s weight too. If I say no, it’s no.”
I loved him, but he was being ridiculous. “That’s not how marriage works!”
“I think that’s exactly how it works,” he ground out hoarsely, the emotion there in his voice as he swallowed hard, trying to breathe through his anger.
I had to figure out why he was actually mad. What was it he was so scared of? Because this wasn’t about control—Ian didn’t want power over me, but right now, at this moment, he was absolutely terrified. I just had to figure out of what.
“Are you listening to me?”
Ian was a natural protector, and the person he most wanted to keep safe was me.
“Honey, you can’t stand between me and the world for the rest of my life,” I explained, trying to keep my voice level so he’d hear me and not bristle. “And I wouldn’t want you to.”
“Well, clearly I do since you’re not using your head.”
Deep breath because, holy shit, did he want to have a knock-down drag-out or what? He was ready to throw down with me right there. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”