The Pact (Winslow Brothers #2)(90)

Goddamn, she’s cute. A fucking mess, but cute.

Discreetly, I reach out with one hand and ease the guns back into Daisy’s lap. “I will say that with a baby on the way now, we’ll definitely be looking at other apartments in the city because our current place is only one bedroom. I’m assuming we’ll need to update USCIS with any change in address?”

“Yes,” Fran answers firmly. “Within thirty days of your move, you need to update us by mail or through the online form.”

I nod, look over at Daisy, and realize her mouth has morphed into the biggest smile I’ve ever fucking seen. I’m talking, the Joker’s smile pales in comparison to this all-teeth, megawatt force.

While Fran makes more notes on her notepad, I subtly tilt my head to Daisy, but it only makes her smile grow bigger. Shit. Pretty sure all the emotions of the last several hours and her pregnancy hormones and this fucking woman with the face made out of stone are about to make my wife break.

Dude, you’re going to have to get her out of here.

Yeah, I have to get this interview show on the road. The sooner I can get Daisy out of this room, the sooner I can take her home and fuck the anxiety away until she can relax.

“Well, Fran, this has been a real pleasure,” I say and reach out to pat Daisy’s knee. “And I really appreciate the professional manner in which you conduct these interviews.”

Fran looks at me through narrowed eyes.

You’re going to have to do better than that, my guy. Really hit her with the charm.

Fuck me. I inhale a discreet breath and prepare myself to be the kind of man I most certainly am not—a small-talk schmoozer like my baby brother Jude.

“Fran, I’m sure you don’t get to hear this as much as you should, but the United States of America is lucky to have you at the helm of the immigration process.”

Her eyes become less narrowed.

“So, thank you for your service,” I say with a proud nod. “I know this isn’t an easy job.”

She purses her lips. “No, it’s not.”

Daisy adjusts in her seat a little, almost as if she’s going to chime in with something, but I know that is the opposite of what we need right now. No offense to my gorgeous, beautiful, amazing, intelligent wife, but in the name of her and my sanity, I need her to sit tight while I extract us from this situation.

“Just out of curiosity, how long does it take for applicants to find out if they’ve received a green card?”

“It depends,” Fran responds. “Some applicants find out during the interview. Some have to go through a longer process.”

I feel Daisy tense up beside me, but I keep my cool.

“Sounds like very stringent protocols you follow.”

“Oh, they are,” Fran comments, and I almost sense a smile on her firm lips. “Very stringent.”

“That’s great to hear.” I smile at her. “A relief, to be honest. I appreciate your dedication to the monumental responsibility you’re tasked with.”

“Wow. Well, thank you, Mr. Winslow.”

“Are you going to need us to come back for another interview?” I question nonchalantly and use all my strength to keep up the loathsome small talk while ignoring the tension that’s vibrating off Daisy’s body.

Fran looks down at her notepad. Then at Daisy. Then at me. Her eyes waver a few times, but eventually, she says, “No, sir. You will not need to come back for another interview. I feel I have obtained all the information I needed for your wife’s case, and I am happy to report that I will be recommending her for a green card.”

Thank fuck.

“Really?” Daisy questions and hops up from her chair. “I get to stay in the country? I get to live here? With my husband?”

Fran nods. “Yes, Mrs. Winslow.”

“Oh my God, Fran!” Daisy shouts and jumps around on her feet. “I could kiss you right now!”

“Please don’t do that, ma’am.”

“So, we’re all set?” I quickly ask, and Fran nods.

“Yes. Good luck and congratulations.”

“Thank you!” Daisy squeals and jumps into my arms. “Thank you, Fran! I love you, Fran!” she continues to shout, and I don’t hesitate to carry her right out of ol’ Fran’s office.

Once I get us safely on the elevator and behind closed doors, I set Daisy to her feet and kiss the hell out of her.

“Babe, I love you,” I whisper between kisses. “But, fuck, I was scared shitless you were going to break in the middle of that interview.”

“Oh my God,” she says through a giggle, her lips still permanently attached to mine. “Is that why you started talking so much? I had a moment where I thought you’d been abducted by pod people.”

“Says the woman who kept shooting fucking finger guns at the immigration agent.”

“I didn’t know what to do with my hands!” She giggles some more, and it’s the best sound I’ve ever heard in my life.

“Fuck, baby, once you started smiling like you were trying to get your mouth to reach your damn hairline, I knew I had to do whatever I could to get you out of there.”

“And boy oh boy, am I glad you did.” Daisy snorts and hops up to wrap her legs around my waist. She places erratic kisses all over my face, and I don’t hesitate to squeeze her luscious ass with my big hands.