Raid (Unfinished Hero #3)(92)

She was in her swing, one leg up and bent, one foot to the porch, swaying them.

His chest burned at the sight.

Her eyes came to his and she smiled.

His chest eased.

He walked her way and sat in the wicker chair closest to them.

“Sick of winter. I want my bike,” she informed him once he settled in.

“Time to plan a vacation to a beach,” he replied.

“A beach where they have places to rent bikes,” she amended, and he grinned.

He’d give her that.

He’d give Hanna Miller anything.

Her eyes dropped to his mouth and her lips tipped up.

That lip tip meant she knew he’d give her anything.

Then she turned her head, bent her neck and touched those smiling lips to the baby beanie covering Clay’s head.

After that, her gaze moved to the yard.

Raid stretched out his legs, crossed them at the ankles and didn’t take his eyes off his wife and child.

They stayed that way for a while. Silent. Comfortable. Together.

Hanna broke the quiet.

“It was a dare,” she announced.

“Come again?” he asked.

She didn’t move her eyes from the yard when she answered, “I’ve been thinking about it and figured it out. She knew what I’d do when she told me you were dangerous.”

Raid felt his shoulders tense.

“What?” he asked.

Finally, her eyes came to his. “Grams. She loved you. She respected you. She wanted me to have you. She knew exactly who you were. She knew everything. And she was worried I might not go the distance. So she warned me off you, knowing the minute she did I would not back down. She did this by scaring the pants off me then telling me that if I saw it through, I’d know nothing sweeter in my whole life,” she snuggled Clay closer before she rocked his world, “than the love you’d give to me.”

Raid held her eyes.

“She was always right,” Hanna finished, and that burn came back into his chest.

Fuck.

Fuck, but he loved his wife.

And he missed her great-grandmother.

“Raiden?” she called even though his eyes were locked on her.

“Right here, baby,” he answered quietly.

“I figure she thought she knew something else and I have to know if she was right about that too.”

“What?” he asked.

“Only you can answer,” she told him.

“What is it, honey?”

She gave it to him.

“She knew you’d know nothing sweeter than the love I give to you.”

Jesus, f**k.

“Was she right?” Hanna asked.

Raid held her eyes.

Then he unfolded his body from his chair, taking her in swaying on her porch swing with his son held close to her chest, wrapped up in home, warmth, comfort, nurture.

Love.

He got near and bent deep, put his face close to hers, looked into her pretty blue eyes and curled a hand around the side of her head.

Only then did he reply, “Absolutely.”