Authors: Aimee Laine
“Your eyes are that funky purple again.” He trailed the kisses down to her lips.
I’ve missed out on years of this.
Her heart throbbed. “Matches your nose. I figure we can stay even for a while.”
Wyatt’s thumb trailed along her jaw. “You have a question but don’t want to ask it. Why?”
She laid her forehead against his chest. “I just—”
“I’m not mad at you, Charley. Quite the opposite, in fact. I feel like we’ve known each other forever, that it’s like time never separated us.” He pushed her hair behind her shoulder. “Do you want more than that?”
She moved her head against him, unsure if he’d pick up that the movement meant to relay a solid ‘yes’.
He tilted her head up with one finger under her chin. “Do you love me, Charley?”
She tensed, her gaze on his. “I never stopped loving you, Wyatt.”
He hiked his butt up onto the counter and pulled her up to him so her knees rested on top of it. Their bodies fit together again with a simplicity and ease.
Wyatt cupped her cheeks with both hands. “I have loved you since the day I met you. And not some stupid high-school love everyone knows is fleeting. A love so deep-down painful, I never thought I’d find a way to make it go away. Everything I have done for nearly sixteen years has been because of that.”
Tears threatened to spill as his words hit her in the most tender of spots and filled the void she’d forced upon them both.
“No, no. Don’t do that. I’m not unhappy, and I can see your perspective … now. I have you, here in my house, in my life, and if I’m lucky enough to keep you for another forty or maybe even fifty years, that’s enough for me.”
She tried to move from his grasp, to lean against him and soak up his warmth, but he forced her to remain at eye level.
“I love you, Charley Randall. I love your uniqueness, your quirks, those wicked eyes, that temper and what you do. I don’t want any of that to change. You are who you are, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
She dove into the kiss, putting passion and force behind it—a move to tell him she understood, agreed and believed it, too. “I love you, too, Wyatt, with every cell in my body.”
I just hope you think the same when you learn you’re the key to keeping me the same.
21
Wyatt adjusted his tie by his bedroom mirror, cursing at the over-under-too-tight state he managed to get it in, and yanked it off. “Charley?”
She walked out of the bathroom, rubbing her hair with the towel as tiny drops of water glistened on her body. The towel moved lower until she rubbed at her calves, moving back up to her thighs and higher, repeating on the other side.
Wyatt swallowed hard, forgetting the tie.
As she stood again, her smile followed with the maneuvering of the towel behind her, rubbing it against her back with an air to drama and sexual fantasy. He moved to her, grabbed her by the waist and pulled her in for a kiss. Her hair fell around him and left watermarks on his crisp button-down, the tie still hanging at his neck.
“You’re dressing up?” She released their lips.
“Standard-issue FBI.” He stuck a finger through the loop, prepared to start again.
Charley bit her lip.
“What?”
“How about you go a bit more … casual?”
He let go, the tie hanging loose around his neck again. “Why?”
She dropped her head against his chest. “You’re going to think this is stupid.”
He chuckled. “After everything else you’ve told me? Try me.”
She tilted back up to him as he scanned the length of her body, and his own responded with heat and desire.
“So this little plan I’ve come up with—”
Wyatt resisted the urge to tuck her in a closet for safe keeping. Instead, he withheld the sigh. “I haven’t agreed to it.” He didn’t even know what she’d come up with.
She ran her hands up his chest, leaving trails of intentional heat along the way. “You will.”
He hid the smile. “You can give me your idea, and I’ll … consider it.”
She did not hide the smile. “I want as many ‘me’s’ as possible. If you recall, you mentioned, and I blew it off, that they might know Chase is safe. That could mean they also know Chase’s gift if he left behind his clothes.”
Wyatt pinched the bridge of his nose out of habit, cringing at the pressure it added behind his eyes. “Okay, I think I’m following.”
Charley giggled. “If they know what Chase can do, we need someone with his skills but with experience.”
“And who would that be?”
“Her name is Maggie. She’s a bit … overwhelming … more so when she’s attracted to someone … and she has a thing for guys in suits.”
Wyatt let his head fall back as he laughed. “Charley Randall … are you jealous? Are you worried I’ll give you up and turn to her when she plies me with her feminine wiles?”
“Oh, she will. Trust me,” Charley said. “You’re used to Lily—”
Wyatt pulled Charley to the edge of the bed. “What’s up with Lily? I mean, are she and Cael a something-or-other?”
Charley giggled. “So, you’ve seen it, then?”
“I saw it when they were Carter and Leena and again in Montreal. Why aren’t they together already?”
“There are reasons. Until they work through them, they’ll continue to fight the urge to … do anything about it.”
“You said ‘blend’ before.”
She bobbed her head up and down. “I did.”
Wyatt pulled to the bed’s surface, rolled to his side, and placed a kiss on her forehead. “What does that mean?”
“So … we can only … ah … find a match with someone who shares our birthday.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“It’s like a dog and cat mating. Gross, I know, but they couldn’t … you and I can’t until I—” She looked up, stopped.
“What?”
Charley dropped her forehead against his and drew in a deep breath.
Wyatt tugged at a lock of hair. “Tell me.”
She looked back up at him. “I have to give up who I am to be with you. To have children with a full-blooded human, I have to give up my life as you know it today. No more morphing. No more hero work—unless our clients still want us—which by the way, they usually don’t. I choose a body and make that change on our birthday, and from that point on, age as would any normal human—because I will be.”
“Wow,” Wyatt said. “So, really, no other option?” He ran a thumb across her cheek.
“Not if I want the true human experience. Kids, real family, et cetera.”
“But you have an amazing family already. What if you found someone else—of your kind? So you could just keep going?” Wyatt asked.
Charley’s eyes grew wide. “I’m almost two hundred and thirty-four years old, Wyatt. Don’t you think by now I’d have found someone of my own kind if I was meant to? Whose birthday do I share?”
“Apparently, mine.”
“And how many times have we been together?”
“This would be our … second?”
“Fourth, actually.”
Four?
“Do you really think there is anyone else for me?” Charley stared straight at him.
“But do you want to give up everything that you are?” Wyatt asked.
For me?
“I have to one way or the other, Wyatt. This is my last shot at this.”
“What do you mean?” He sat up, confused by the assertion.
One last chance? One last birthday? One last year?
Charley sat up with him, leaned her head on his shoulder.
He let her touch, her softness, her presence invade his mind. “Tell me.”
She ran her hands along the side of his face. “Remember the night of the dance? I ran out at midnight because—”
“The next day was our birthday. You could have told me.” His hand stroked the dampness of her hair, curled a tenril around his finger.
“We’ve already been over that. But I did it the year before then, too.”
His body stiffened a moment before he forced himself to relax. “Huh?”
“Do you remember getting a flat on Turner Point the night of a meteor shower? With Stuart?”
He stood and pushed away from the bed. “Oh my god.”
“Yeah. Exactly.”
He ran a hand over his head. “So once a year, I have to see the real you, and the rest of the time, you can be whoever I want. Can you be Britney Spears in her hot days?”
Charley laughed. “No way, no how, not even in your wildest fantasies.” She shot him a grin. “There are trade-offs, Wyatt. The world we live in works off a balance.” Her tone turned somber.
• • •
Charley inhaled, held her breath and prepared to dive into the larger issue. “When I say this is my last chance, I mean … I’ve reached my maximum capacity of changes.”
He pulled her upright at the edge of the bed.
She threaded her fingers through his. “I only get one more birthday, and then I’ll be forced to live my life human, with a normal, human life expectancy, whether I want to or not.”
Back to eighteen one last time.
“Wow.”
“So you see why it’s so important to me to make sure these people can’t hurt my family and why I need to be the one to do it.”
He slow-nodded a number of times.
“Now getting back to Maggie … if you don’t make it easy for her, it’ll ease my mind. She’s been around. She actually knows about you … uh … from our previous encounters, but not having met you … that’ll be the ultimate temptation.”
Wyatt grabbed the knot of his tie, pulled it free and threw it on the bed. “That better?”
Charley snuggled into his arms. “Yes. Trust me when I say Maggie is intense. That’s why James doesn’t want her around.”
“James?” He palmed his forehead. “James and Maggie and … Chase?”
Charley leaned into him. “I think so, yes.”
“And you need her to mimic Chase … if that’s how it all plays out.”
“I want to be prepared for any challenge we might encounter. If we have her, too, we’ve got power. It all fits into some possibilities I’ve been working out in my head.”
Wyatt kissed her forehead. “We’ll do whatever we need.” He stared deep into her eyes. “Since this is personal, I’m going to need a list of your enemies, projects, activities, people—”
“You don’t already have that?” Charley figured Wyatt pulled all their files the moment he’d hired them.
“I tried, but you guys are well blocked.”
“Cael shields us from those who don’t need to know. I just figured you’d be able to override him.” She smiled up at him. “So you really don’t know all our secrets, then?”
Wyatt grinned back at her. “Just a few.” He laid his lips against hers. “I gotta ask, so don’t get mad.”
Charley tilted her head, scrunching her forehead. “What?”
“How did Sophie come to you?”
“She answered an ad.”
“And you’ve never had problems with her?” Wyatt asked.
“No.” Charley stepped away, crossing her arms over her chest. “I know what you’re asking, Wyatt, and I don’t like it. At all.”
Wyatt broke the building tension with his hands at the back of her neck.
Charley melted into them.
“I have to think through all the possibilities.” He tugged her closer.
“Then why don’t you ask about Lily?”
“Because I’ve seen how devoted she is to you and how devastated she was by his absence. Sophie was missing for part of that time and comes back with a concussion, some bruises and—”
“What about me, then? Why couldn’t I have done it? Don’t they say abductions by family members are the most common?”
Wyatt’s head tilted down to her, but he raised one eyebrow. “Really? Have you noticed the emotional roller coaster you’ve been on? I may not have been around every day, but I gotta tell you, no one breaks down then builds back up the way you do unless there is a fight brewing. Sophie, on the other hand, has been out of reach—metaphorically speaking—for much of the time.”
“She was attacked, drugged and got hit on the head.” Charley pursed her lips as she seethed, her cheeks cradled by Wyatt’s hands again.
“I know. But, I have to look at all avenues, Charley. You have your job, I have mine. Let me do my job.”
“The detectives didn’t ask those questions.”
“No? That’s odd.”
Charley caught sight of the clock as Wyatt held her still.
“Shoot, Wyatt. It’s nearly eleven, and I need to convince James we need Maggie. Then I gotta convince her we need her.”
“Let’s go, then.” Wyatt took her hand as he and Charley made their way back down the stairs. “Morning,” he said to Sheila.
She nodded at him but bristled as Charley passed. “I didn’t know you still had company.” She sipped from a mug, the scent of roasted coffee beans hanging in the air.
“Good morning, Sheila. I want to apologize for my interruption and attitude last night. I was … not myself.” Charley started to reach, to offer a handshake, but Sheila shifted to the side.
“It’s okay. I’ll see you later.” She took her cup and walked out.
“She’s not a morning person.” Wyatt drew Charley to him for another kiss. “Sometimes, work and friendship just don’t mix.”
Charley cringed. She’d been in between him and Stuart, too. “Wyatt?”
“Yeah?” He turned, mug in hand.
“I’m sorry that my secret spoiled your friendship. Stuart asked over and over if he could tell, but we simply couldn’t allow it. It was completely selfish of me.” She hung her head.
He lifted it with one finger but didn’t say anything.
“We also believed, as you worked your way through the ranks, that it was still in your best interest to think Mira left,” she added.
“How would you have known my rank?”
“The first way is through your mom. She’s one of the proudest mothers I’ve ever met. Then, of course, Stuart couldn’t keep it a secret—not that he had to—and Cael works for the bureau … officially … as you know.”
“How exactly do you know my Mom?”
Charley squished her eyes together. “Um … it’s kinda a weird story, but … remember I said birthday, blending, et cetera?”
He nodded.
“Well, remember that. So the other thing about my kind is that we don’t just morph our bodies. We fit the mood, no, how best to say this. We take on more than just physical form. We take emotions, too. That’s why when I take a teen’s body, I have to deal with acne and crap again. It’s also why most of us can’t shift from one gender to the other—because we have a hard time with the transition of hormones.”
“Okay.”
“Well … so the very first time I met you was my two-hundredth birthday. I kinda helped give birth to you.”
Wyatt didn’t even flinch. “That’s kinda gross.”
She gave him credit for not jumping away. “Yeah. But back then, because I knew you were a match—what with the birthdays and all—I wanted to be your Mom, which I know sounds even grosser, but like I said, our emotions alter, too. If I had taken your Mom’s form that day, I’d have become her forever. Though, since she still existed, I would have lost out big time and broken our cardinal rule.”
“What’s that?” He tilted his head.
“We cannot choose for another. I can’t take my human form without your consent—assuming you’re my pair, which you are … if you want to be.”
“Wow. So you’re kinda at my mercy, and if I wanted to make you live life from eighteen on again, I could have a really young—”
Charley slapped his chest and laughed. “James and Cael won’t let you get away with that. Plus, isn’t the rule half plus seven?”
He scrunched his nose.
“So I’d have to be twenty-four at least.”
“I can live with that.”
Charley laid her head against him and let happiness engulf her.
This is exactly what I’ve always wanted.
• • •
Charley led Wyatt back into her house to the sounds of laughter, conversation and general carrying on. Her family, safe again, brought forth a smile. She kept her hand in his as she made her way, with him in tow, to the living room.
Chase stood in the middle of the room, his arms stretched wide, in mid-storytelling, or so she gathered from his animated gestures and tempered pitch of his voice.
“Mornin’,” she said.
Chase whirled. He jumped over the coffee table in his bid for a morning hug.
Cael jumped from his spot at the end of the couch. “Wow, Wyatt. What happened to your nose?”
Laughter and chuckles passed through, some hidden behind hands, others left to spray sound through the air.
“Uh, would you believe me if I said I ran into a door?”
“Not in a million years.” A smile infused Cael’s voice.
James tilted his head left and right. “Charley got you, huh?”