who’d worked for Jimmy even before Max had come to the house. Efficient steps cushioned by hot pink athletic shoes to compliment the sporty collared shirt and cropped pants she wore, the gracefully-aging housekeeper could have served as a spokeswoman for the LPGA. Any trace of normalcy Max had received growing up had come from her care. In Cee Cee’s book, nothing could ever repay that kindness.
Once Helen returned inside, Kendra continued to unburden her heart, musing quietly, “We’ve lost much . . . so many memories . . . some good, some not so good. This little one will never know our way of life.” Before Cee Cee could offer sympathy, the exiled queen gave a cynical sniff. “Maybe that’s not a bad thing. Not all my memories of home are good ones.” After a pensive moment picking at the edges of her sandwich, she asked, “Is this where you expected to raise a child?”
Cee Cee’s laugh burst out, loud and irreverent, freeing all the tension of the past few days as she admitted, “I never expected it at all. Not exactly mom material.”
“But you are,” Kendra argued gently. “You’ve been mothering the city’s citizens since you were what, a child yourself?”
She chuckled at that strangely apt perception. “Pretty much, I guess. But that doesn’t mean I’ll be good at it.”
Rubbing the diamond she wore in one ear, it’s mate affixed in Cale’s, Kendra assured, “You’ll do fine. We both will. Nothing’s easy being with the men we chose. Not with the burdens they carry. But would we have it any other way?” When she got no response, she studied her hostess more carefully, her kind yet probing intensity forcing the detective to dig deep for her own answer as she pretended to enjoy her pulled pork.
Would she? Would she turn back the clock if she could, to walk away from her husband/mate and all the stunning, frightening, and yes, exciting challenges he’d brought into her lonely, regimented life? The comfort and intimacy of his daily presence, the huge supernatural community that surrounded and included her, the grounding welcome of a home and family and the plus-one-more she carried?
Before Cee Cee could reassure her friend, and herself, with an answer, the sound of uneven bootsteps swiveled Kendra’s attention toward open full-length doors. As heat and emotion flooded through the gentle blonde, an uncomfortable awareness of its recent absence in her own life knotted in her throat.
“Hey, baby.” Tenderness rumbled through that soft greeting as Cale bumped up against the back of his queen’s chair. Strong arms encircled as he took up her hands in his, bending to breathe in the scent of her with eyes closed. Resting his head upon her shoulder, he drew strength, comfort, and peace from his other half as she stroked the bristle of his hair.
“How’s your brother?”
A deep inhale and heavy sigh. “Stronger than I’d be. He’s stepped back from clan business to stay with her.”
“That troubles you?” Fingertips soothed a furrowed brow.
“No. It’s a relief. It’s what I’d do. He’s where he needs to be. Rico’s close. He’ll watch over them.”
“Good. Go upstairs, shower, rest. I’ll be up in a minute.”
A husky chuckle. “To assist with both?”
Her kiss brushed his cheek. “It’s where I need to be.”
Cee Cee looked from the tender couple into her own heart. The simple honesty of their relationship contrasted painfully with the complexity of her own. She managed a smile as Cale straightened and drew back his mate’s chair so she could stand, tucking herself within the circle of his arm to both support him and reassure herself. What pierced Cee Cee’s emotions was envy.
“Savoie asked me to tell you he’s meeting with Rueben and some others of his clan and won’t be home ’til later. Then the three of us are having drinks here.”
The message wasn’t a surprise. What surprised was how much it hurt to hear it from another instead of the source. Was that what things had come to, messages instead of moments?
Her smile deflected her anguish. “I’ve got an interview to do, anyway.”
Cale studied her longer than he needed to, gracious enough not to call his hostess on her bullshit. Instead, he offered, “Savoie’s no fool. He’s a lucky man. Takes one to know one.” Then, he swiveled his mate around, with a bump of his hip, leaving the detective to cling to those words.
– – –
Her interview meant returning to the city, to the Pour House where Gloria Joublanc worked the bar the