Chapter 14

FOURTEEN

Jamie had already been in the field once on this case—with questionable authority. There'd been no one around on Saturday morning to argue with an SAC over whether his former-agent husband should be involved in a high-speed car chase. Matt and Rick knew him, vouched for him, and the other agents involved that morning were familiar with his reputation.

But today there was a man who indeed looked like a Rooster—a mane the color of hay, a dark suit so shiny it reminded Jamie of an oil slick, and words that were sharp as a bird's beak—who made it clear that whether Angel was charged with a felony or misdemeanor depended on White's arrest and that nothing, including a former-fed-now-civilian, would jeopardize the joint task-force takedown and the leverage they needed to make White talk.

And Aidan asked Jamie to stay with Angel and Izzy.

Jamie didn't argue. Instead, he drove his precious cargo by their home so they could grab clean clothes and toiletries, then took them to the condo he and Aidan were borrowing, all under guard. Once inside, Jamie insisted mother and son catch up on much-needed sleep while he caught up on game tape from the tourney. Which he did for a while, then anticipating it could be a long day and night of waiting, he started a batch of chili in the crock pot and modeled a '66 Chevy C10 on his tablet. He also hunted down every handbook and manual he could find on the beast and called the best mechanic he knew in San Francisco to chat engines and other modifications. He'd just hung up with her when Angel shuffled down the stairs.

Jamie wrinkled his nose at the kid's attire—Lakers sweats and a Dodgers T-shirt. "All of that is wrong."

Following his nose, Angel snooped around the crock pot in the kitchen. "Well, I'm not wearing Warriors or Giants shi—stuff."

Jamie pretended to be outraged. "You're from San Francisco!"

"I won't tell you about the Raiders gear I left at home."

Continuing his dramatics, Jamie closed his tablet, pushed it aside, then hid his head under his arms on the table, groaning, "Make it stop."

Angel's chuckle was a welcome sound, as was his "smells good" as he filled a glass with water. His shoulders were still higher than Jamie liked to see on a young person, but this Angel was a much different kid from the surly, anxiety-stricken one of the past few days.

"Slow cooker chili," Jamie said as he rose. "Perfect winter food." He cruised along the other side of the island to the fridge for eggs and milk, then to the pantry for a pan and box of cornbread mix, before he claimed the stool by the mixing bowl he'd set out. "How's your mom? "

"Asleep still. She's always out for a while after the long ones."

"And she flew three of them in a row."

Angel hung his head and rubbed a hand over his nape. "Don't remind me."

"She's a parent," Jamie said as he cracked an egg into the bowl. "She did what she had to do."

"Because I screwed up."

"You were a friend doing what you had to. Tell me about her, Bev."

"She's gorgeous."

Jamie stopped midstir and raised a brow. Maybe Angel was bi instead of gay, like he'd told his mother.

"Not my type," he continued as he climbed onto a stool. "At least not that way. And I'm not hers either. She's ace."

"Your mom said she's your Spanish tutor?"

"Yeah, she's smart as hell, but most of the idiots at school don't see past her looks. The girls pull their mean girl act since all the guys hit on her, even though she's got zero interest in any of them. But she's the last person to fight back or speak up for herself."

"'Cause she's a foster kid." Jamie had seen it before, especially in his volunteer work. "So you pulled her into the queer kids club?"

Angel nodded.

"How'd you get her to do that?" Jamie asked as he poured the cornbread batter into the pan.

"Told her I didn't need a gringo to teach me Spanish."

Jamie laughed. "You didn't?"

"She was determined to prove me wrong." Smiling, his gaze drifted out the window, lost in a pleasant memory. "I had my test paper in my hand that day. Got a D. She snatched it from me, found three more errors the teacher missed, and changed the D to an F." He shook his head, laughing. "Big yikes."

"But you also found your best friend."

"Bet," he replied with a lift of his chin, before his gaze snagged on Jamie's emerald-inlaid wedding ring. "Tell me about him, other than how you got him to dye his hair red."

"Back red," Jamie corrected as he rested against the counter by the stove. "That's his natural color."

"Figured." Angel rolled his glass between his palms, seeming to drift through another memory. "I went to a couple birthday parties back in the day. All the Talley kids around then were redheaded."

"There's a whole army now, and Aidan is everyone's favorite uncle."

"You two got kids?"

"Not yet, but we're starting to make plans for them." While he and Aidan had paused the conversation owing to the kid in front of him, Jamie would pick it back up when the time was right. He wasn't going to let this speed bump slow them down in the long run, not when they were finally starting to pick up speed.

"He'll make a good father."

Jamie and Angel jerked their gazes to the stairs, the direction the comment had come from. Izzy was making her way down in similarly casual clothing, though thankfully not in more dreadfully offensive sportswear.

She climbed onto the stool beside Angel and bumped his shoulder. "He doted on you and Katie," she said, then aimed a soft, genuinely concerned look at Jamie. "Is he really okay?"

"He wasn't," Jamie told them. "Not for a while. For eight months, no one believed him that Gabe and Tom were murdered. He thought he was losing his mind, but he knew it here." He laid a hand over his chest. "He also knew he was supposed to die in that crash too. That guilt will always be there, that he walked away with only nightmares and pins in his arm, but he tries to survive for them."

Izzy cast her gaze aside, swallowing hard. "I'm glad he has you."

"I'm the lucky one." Had been since the day Mel had assigned him to be Aidan's new partner. Was even luckier that Aidan had taken him back after the secrets Jamie had kept. Was luckiest of all that Aidan had taken another chance on love and forever with him. "We're all lucky to still have him."

She swiped away a tear that raced down her cheek, and Angel circled her shoulders, holding her tight to him, the unit she'd spoken of earlier, each of them having the other's back.

It was a quiet moment, a good healing one that he sensed they needed, and he hated that the beeping slow cooker interrupted it. The interruption that came a minute later, though, was much more welcome. Withdrawing his vibrating phone from his pocket, Jamie read the incoming text from Aidan and smiled. "Aidan's back. They just pulled into the parking garage downstairs."

"They?" Angel said, more hope and joy in that one word than Jamie had yet to hear in the teen's voice.

"With Bev."

Angel was off the stool and out the door before Izzy could holler, "Angel, wait!"

"Go," Jamie said to her. "Stairs are to the left. I'm right behind you." He flicked off the oven, then sprinted out the door behind them, emerging on the ground floor in time to see Angel and Bev collide mid–parking lot, arms around each other, laughing. Jamie looked past the two friends, to his husband whose autumn eyes shone with happiness and relief, and in that moment, Jamie had never been more proud to be Aidan Talley's husband.