47. Zane

47

ZANE

When I went to get dressed twenty minutes ago, Daniel and Taylor were hunched over the island, scrolling through an endless list of takeout options for dinner.

As I make my way back to the kitchen, not much has changed.

"Pizza," Daniel argues. "Children love pizza."

"Which explains why you love it so much." Taylor hip-checks him out of the way and snatches the phone. "If I have to watch Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles tonight, I'm doing it with egg rolls. End of story."

I round the corner into the kitchen, adjusting my cufflinks. "You two really don't have to do this. If you want to go to the ceremony?—"

"As a member of the team staff, I had to vote on who got which award and, spoiler alert: none of them were for me." Daniel arches a brow like that is enough of an explanation. In case it isn't, he adds, "Plus, everyone is still pissy about us not making the playoffs. It's a negative energy."

"Says the man who didn't have to sit and watch tape from that game for the last two days," I grumble.

We lost to the St. Louis Mules even though their star player spent half the game in the penalty box for absolutely wrecking Davis and Carson. Simply put, they outplayed us. Jace tried to give a speech after the game to inspire some hope for next season, but the guys didn't want to hear it.

I couldn't even blame them. My head was already at home with Mira and Aiden.

"You could go just to get dressed up and for the free drinks," I suggest.

But Taylor waves both arms in front of her like she's warding off a demon. "Absolutely not. We went to a fundraiser on my dad's behalf last night. I spent eight hours in stilettos with rich men twice my age who wanted to talk to my cleavage way more than they wanted to talk to me."

"And I couldn't even punch them in their dentures for ogling my lady," Daniel grits out.

"It was a nightmare," she concludes. "Tonight, I want to wear sweats and eat garbage."

"Fine," I relent. "But if you change your mind, I can ask Evan to come sit with Aiden just as easily."

He's been spending most of his nights the last couple weeks patrolling the perimeter of the property, anyway. I try to make sure to account for the extra hours in his paycheck, but he doesn't even tell me he's out there half the time. As far as I'm concerned, he's priceless.

Daniel gasps in outrage. "No one can replace Uncle Daniel! Not Evan, not anyone. How dare you even suggest it?"

Taylor rolls her eyes. "What he's trying to say is that we would love nothing more than some extra time with our favorite nephew."

"Our only nephew," Daniel points out. "But even if we had a dozen, Aiden would still take the cake. I'm happy to be his bodyguard for the night."

Suddenly, a blonde mop of hair pops up between their legs. "I don't need a bodyguard. I already have one at school."

"Yeah, but can your bodyguard at school do this?" Daniel picks Aiden up and tosses him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He flips him around until Aiden has done a full three-sixty and is back on his feet.

"No!" Aiden giggles. "We're in school. It's not allowed. Hank just stares at me all day."

It's been weeks since Dante tried to pick Aiden up from school, and we've been in a stasis. Nothing has changed, for better or for worse. On one hand, it's nice. On the other, I get the feeling Dante is planning something.

That's why I hired Hank.

He meets Aiden at school every morning, watches him all day, and then hands control to Evan at pickup. It's just another layer of security. Another bit of insurance. One less thing for me to worry about.

Still, my list of worries could fill phone books.

I hate that I might be handing some of that anxiety to Aiden, too. Last night at bedtime, he asked me why he needed a bodyguard at all.

"Is there a bad guy after me?" he asked, eyes wide with fear.

I told him the truth. As much as I could, anyway. Even though it broke my heart.

"I'm doing everything I can to protect you," I assured him. "It's why I hired Hank. He is there to make sure no one gets close enough to hurt you. You'll be safe."

"So… someone wants to hurt me?"

"No. Of course not. But…" How do you tell a five-year-old that someone might want to rip his family apart? How do I explain that he's nothing more than a pawn in Dante's game?

How do I explain that I'll fucking kill Dante if he touches my son?

"Is it Mommy?" he asked softly.

It's like I could see his innocence shattering in front of my eyes, and I was the one holding the hammer.

I wrapped my arm around him. "I'm going to protect you and your mom, no matter what. You are both going to be safe, okay? That's what's important."

Aiden let it go and he didn't have any more questions for me this morning, but I still wonder what he makes of all of this. Will his life be an endless maze of guards and security systems and locked doors? Or will Dante be gone before any of this shit can traumatize my kid?

Those thoughts are swirling around my head when Aiden gasps, pulling my focus.

He's staring down the hall, his mouth split in a wide-open grin. "Princess."

I follow his gaze and the noise in my head goes fuzzy.

Before I know what I'm doing, I'm moving down the hall, only one thought in my head.

Mine .

"You're a fucking goddess," I breathe.

Mira waves me off, but her dark waves slip over her shoulder and her red-painted lips tilt into a smile. They match the burgundy of her dress.

The material traces a low line across her chest—a line I plan to follow with my tongue later. And I have devious plans for her thigh-high slit.

"You look good yourself." Her green eyes slide down my suit and back up, her cheeks turning pink. "Ready to come home with a neck full of medals?"

I loop my arm around her waist, pulling her close because I can't help myself. "There are no medals."

"Trophies, then."

"No trophies, either." I lean in, my lips moving against the shell of her ear. "Except for you."

She pulls back just far enough to bat her long lashes at me. "Being called a trophy wife is not the compliment you think it is."

"That's only because you have no idea how well I treat my trophies."

She smiles—her full, vibrant smile that knocks me back a half-step—and I start to consider if maybe we should skip the team's awards ceremony and stay here.

Then Daniel clears his throat behind me. "Just thought I'd remind you two that we're still back here. You know, in case you'd forgotten."

I turn back to Mira. "I don't think they're gonna let us sneak back to the bedroom, so I guess we should go."

She holds out a dainty hand, her wedding ring gleaming in the hallway light. "Lead the way, Mr. Whitaker."