“Wait for me.”If his voice was just a bit hoarse, she didn’t seem to take note of it. She looked at him as though he had reached over and slapped her. “You don’t trust me? After all that talk of taking me for my word—”“This isn’t about trust.”“That is precisely what this is about.” Her fingers fisted in her skirts. “Because I’ve trusted you.”It hurt him to hear it. He didn’t know what else to do. He had no contacts left. He was walking around now like a blind man. He didn’t need the added weight of her safety on his conscience. Caine’s eyes fell away again. “Maybe you shouldn’t.”That earned him a flustered: “You told me to!”

“Bobby’s eyes widened. Then he swallowed like there was an anvil in his throat.“You want me...”She waited for him to continue but he didn’t seem capable. So she shifted and the pain brought him back from wherever his glazed gaze had taken him.“You want me to rip your underwear off?”Given the need to clamp her thighs together, she didn’t care how he worded it. She nodded.“I think I’ve died and gone to Heaven,” he murmured.“You will if you don’t watch it, Wichowski. Just...reach under...”

“And right now, all I can do is take his word. All I can do is take my trust and place it back into his hands. I just hope he knows that it's all the trust I have left to give him. I know for a fact that if he hurts me like he's hurt me before, it'll be the last time he ever hurts me.”

“He was waiting there for her beside the pool - a great black horse with shoulders like polished ebony and the water still streaming from his mane and tail. Morag stood and looked at him for a long moment. The great horse looked at her and never moved.“Will you trust me?” he had asked her the evening before, and she had trusted him then. She trusted him now, and so she walked towards him. She grasped his mane, and still the black horse never moved. She stood on a stone beside him, swung herself onto his back, and the black horse moved.”

“Beckett, where’s Eve?”When he had her pressed to his chest, she tried again. “Are you going to tell me or what?”Beckett sighed and looked into her face. “I left her, babycakes. She needs wings, not handcuffs.”He held Livia tighter, like she was a teddy bear.She stopped moving her feet and hugged him around the neck. “You’re not handcuffs. Don’t you know that? She loves you. She does, I’ve seen it.”Beckett resumed dancing, dipping her again. “Look around, Whitebread. She’s not here. She didn’t try to stop me from coming. Her heart belongs to a dead man and a dream. I’m neither of those things.” Beckett released her and clapped for the end of the song. He reached in his pocket and produced a crumpled envelope. “Here’s my gift to you guys. I’m sure Blake won’t want to accept it, but I’m hoping you’ll convince him. For me.”

“Don’t sulk,” he told her. “It doesn’t become someone of your age.” She rolled her eyes even as, he was delighted to note, she kissed him back. “Oh, the age thing? You just had to go there, didn’t you?”