Page 51 of The Marriage Bargain

We heard the voice and broke apart. Truthfully, we nearly jumped apart, making certain we were separated before one of the girls caught us.

“I’m right here,” Delle said, and I was impressed by the control over her voice. It didn’t tremble or sound shaky or breathless. “Your mom and dad are coming home and I was going to go pack my things.”

“Oh, okay. Can I have a glass of milk?”

She glanced at me. “I’ll fetch it,” I offered, “so you can pack.”

She smiled gratefully. I think we were both ready to leave. Especially after what had just happened. She seemed every bit as ready as I was.

CHAPTER 29

CAIDE

I had requested a transport to pick up Zyn, Tarra, and their new daughter at the hospital and drive them home. The girls were out of the front door as soon as the transport touched down, racing out into the snow before Delle or I could stop them. She tried hollering after them—something about snow boots and not squishing their mom or scaring the baby. They did not hear a single word. She turned to me with a shrug.

“Well, I tried,” she said.

I offered her my hand. “You did. Come, let’s not be outdone. Let’s meet our new niece.”

She tilted her head. “That sounds kind of nice,” she said at last. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it does.”

“What does?”

“Our new niece? Like…like you really want to be part of the family.”

“I do,” I said, tugging her a little closer so I could raise her hand to my lips and kiss the back of it. I hoped the seriousness I felt shone in my eyes. “I desire nothing more than to establish a family with you. I have none of my own. Nothing real, such as you have. I should like to be a part of it.”

“Keep talking like that, mister,” she whispered, almost roughly, but with a teasing glint in her eye. “You can probably convince me to do anything.”

Warmed by the thought, I held onto her hand as we also ventured outdoors to welcome Delle’s sister.

Once the initial greetings were fulfilled and everyone was safely back inside the warm home, we waited a respectable amount of time to offer congratulations to the parents, hold the new baby, and fuss over her before daring to take our leave. Even I held the infant. She had a thatch of dark hair and soft little eyelashes that rested on round, rosy cheeks. I had seen other infants before, Asterion and human, and considered them to look closer to Melvran slugs than precious newborns. But this child—either I had lived among humans long enough that my tastes had changed, or I was becoming softer due to Delle’s influence.

“She is beautiful,” I said aloud, even as I held her as gingerly as crystal, fearing I might press too hard and she would shatter in my arms.

Delle was leaning over my shoulder, smiling down into the soft little face. “Isn’t she?”

I glanced up at my wife. Her face was very near mine. “Should we have one someday?” I asked quietly.

She turned, and we were now so close our mouths could have brushed at the slightest movement. A smile curved her lips, either because of my question or because she was thinking the same thing I was.

“Maybe we could start practicing tonight,” Delle answered in a whisper so soft I nearly missed it. Then she followed up the invitation by pressing a kiss, every bit as soft as the whisper, against my lips.

“Ugh, knock it off, you two. I know you’re newlyweds and all, but you’re supposed to hate each other not be grossing everybody out,” griped Delle’s sister, emerging from the hallway where she had gone to her room to change.

Delle pushed away from me, laughing.

“We’re supposed to be enemies? Oh, that’s nice, Tarra.”

“Hey, you’re the one who had the thing against the Overlords, not me,” she said, settling herself carefully into an armchair.

“I didn’t have a thing against the Overlords,” Delle sputtered, casting me an embarrassed glance.

“Pfff, what? You were always griping about how they suppressed us, especially women, and how the Citadel was like a monument to oppression and all this stuff. Wasn’t she, Zyn? Don’t try to get out of it now,” her sister reminded her.

“Please, keep me out of your squabbles,” Zyn muttered. He was preoccupied covering his wife’s feet with a blanket, fetching her a drink.

“That means he knows I’m right but he doesn’t want to hear us argue about it,” Tarra said smugly.

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