Page 28 of Romancing His Heart
“Red, you just said there was a fire in the kitchen,” I repeat her words while letting my senses feel for danger. I don’t smell smoke, and I don’t feel any heat. Either it’s a small fire, or we overreacted.
“Jesus, Sloane,” Preston bellows. “The next time you say there’s a fire in the kitchen, make sure you mean flames and not a pissed-off French chef.”
I stare down at her, unaware that I had once again closed the space between us. We are less than a foot away, and I tower over her short frame, but I can’t take my eyes off her. When I’m this close, I can see the light smattering of freckles that cover her nose.
“Your eyes are smiling again. They sparkle when they’re like this.”
“It’s those Irish genes,” she whispers.
“Smiling eyes have been known to steal hearts away.”
“Only in folk songs, Loki. Sometimes, smiling eyes are just a way to get through the day.” She nods her head and slips passed me down the hall.
I swallow, trying to compose myself. My heart races, and I feel lightheaded. The fucked up thing is, I don’t think it’s from my injuries. I think Red causes this reaction, and I don’t know how I feel about that.
Clearing his throat, Seth steps into the hall. “If I were a betting man, I’d say you found your runner.” Before I can pull my head from my ass to correct him, he continues, “I’m going to see what kind of information I can pull from SIA using Ashton’s network.”
“You will do no such thing. Not right now, anyway. We’re having family dinner in one hour, which means all family, including you, Seth. You may not like it, but you’re one of us now. Drinks and appetizers are on their way out,” Sylvie says as she gracefully floats down the long hall.
When she reaches us, she gives Seth a big hug before shooing him to join the others. Turning her attention to me, the tears in her eyes make me uncomfortable. This woman took me in during my darkest days, and for the last ten years, I’ve avoided all meaningful communication with her. If something happened to me, I didn’t want her to suffer the same fate she had when my parents, then her husband, died.
Reaching up, Sylvie cradles my face in her hands. “It’s nice to have you home, Loki. My heart’s been missing a piece without you here. Dinner will be ready at seven. Do you have a few minutes for an old lady?”
“You’re not old, Sylvie, and I always have time for you,” I tell her, wishing that were the truth.
“Hopefully, one day, that will be true, son. Come on. Let’s sit in here.” Sylvie walks into the war room and spins in place, taking in everything on the walls.
This must be painful for her. She thinks of me as one of her own children.
What would my mom have done in this situation?
“We don’t have to stay in here, Sylvie. Why don’t we use Preston’s office?” I plead, not wanting to see her upset.
On a sigh, she pulls out a chair and points. I know that’s my cue to sit. “I feel like I’m being put in time-out again.”
Sylvie laughs. “When you boys were little, I rarely had to put you in time-out. It was usually Preston or Colt.”
God, I miss those days.
“But, you’re never too old for a heart to heart,” she says gently.
Every muscle in my body tenses as she takes a seat.
“We’ve missed you, Loki. How are you?”
Unsure of what she knows, I keep it vague. “I’m good, Sylvie. I’ve missed being home.”
“Is it over?”
Is it over?
“Don’t bother sugar-coating anything with me, Loki. I’ve sat here every day since Preston returned from the hospital. I’ve listened in on all the briefings, I’ve written checks to people that should probably be in jail, but I did it to find you, and I’d do it again, too.”
My ears prickle.
“I know you’ve kept your distance to protect us. We all know that, but every step away you take, the harder my heart holds on. That’s what mothers do, Loki. We hang onto every scrap of hope, so I want you to be honest with me when I ask you this question. Is it over?”
Hanging my head, I debate how to answer and realize for the first time just how tired I am. Not physically, my body will heal. I’m tired of this life, of living in the shadows.
