Page 28 of One Last Stand
London drew in a breath. Oh, this was a bad, very bad idea. But weirdly, her eyes burned, and maybe, at least for a moment, she needed her Air One team. Especially if she hoped to rescue Shep.
Even if, at the end, they didn’t see the London they knew, but someone else.
A version of herself that she’d been trying to forget. But now, someone she clearly needed.
“Let’s go upstairs, but I don’t have a lot of time.”
How she’d missed the upstairs lights, she didn’t know. Maybe they’d come in while she’d been struggling with the door, because groceries sat in plastic bags on the island in the kitchen.Dinner. Her stomach growled, betraying her completely.
She’d eataftershe rescued Shep.
“Okay, start at the beginning,” Axel said, setting the cast-iron pan on the stove.
“I don’t think we have time for that. How about if I start at the epic moment where we have about an hour to save Shep’s life?”
Flynn froze, along with Axel. And at that moment, the front door swung open.
And nowLondonfroze as in through the front door ran a little girl, age seven, her hair in braids, and behind her, Moose Mulligan, carrying a Moana suitcase along with another bag. He set them in the entryway, then held the door open for the little girl’s mother, Tillie, who stepped into the foyer, shivering.
“Oh, I forgot how cold Alaska is. Can we please go back to Florida?”
Moose laughed, and then the little girl, Hazel, ran over to Axel and hugged him. Then turned to London and also hugged her.
Oh. Uh. But London crouched down and hugged her back because, well, it was Hazel.
And then all the air in the room seemed to evaporate as she looked up and spotted Moose staring at her, his eyes wide, his mouth opening.
She swallowed.
“London,” he said, the name barely whispering out of him. “London!”
“Hey, boss.” She stood up.
Tillie had toed off her boots and hung up her coat and now came in, her dark hair back. “Hey, London. Axe. Flynn.”
Flynn gave her a hug, but her gaze stayed on London.
Moose came down the hall, still wearing his coat, his shoes. “London. What the—what is going on?”
Tillie let Flynn go, looked at Moose, back to London, and frowned. “So, uh, what did I miss?”
* * *
“London died and you didn’t tell me?”
So, this wasn’t quite going the way Moose had hoped. He’d asked Axel to pick up groceries, maybe a pie from the Skyport Diner for dessert, and had planned a steak dinner. They’d put Hazel to bed together, and then Flynn had driven home and he’d gotten rid of his brother to his downstairs lair—yes, the guy needed to move out, pronto. Now Moose could finally sit down with Tillie and ask.
Not pop the Big Question, but ask . . . were they heading that way? And if so, when? And how long was enough time before they could start the life he’d been dreaming about since the day he’d met her—okay, maybe sometime after that, but certainly since he’d kissed her, and definitely after he’d met and fallen in love with her seven-year-old adopted daughter, Hazel, and helped disentangle them both from a man who’d claimed to be Hazel’s father.
Which left him, Moose thought, free and clear to line up and fill in the gap.
Maybe. In time.
Soon, he hoped.
“I really can’t believe you kept the accident from me,” Tillie said now, opening her suitcase with more oomph than needed.
Okay, so the showdown in the kitchen probably hadn’t helped his plans at all. What he’d like to do was erase the last fifteen minutes, start over, and shut Axel up when Tillie asked,“What did I miss?”