Page 53 of His Daughter

"Come on. She doesn't bite. She doesn't have teeth."

"I said no."

Julian looked at me. I shook my head slightly. Not tonight.

We were still heading for the kitchen when Julian handed Lena to me. I cradled her against my chest with one arm, the other free — and then I caught the smell of smoke.

Thea was at the stove. Her hair was up, the off-center bun, a dish towel over her shoulder. Something was simmering in a pot, and a thin plume of gray smoke was rising from a pan beside it.

She stirred with one hand and reached for the spice rack with the other. She looked up, saw Julian behind me, and Nolan behind Julian. Her eyes went wide, and she jerked back from the stove. The spoon in her hand sent a splatter of something red across the counter.

"I should have called ahead," I said.

She glared at me. "You think?"

Julian stepped around me, gift bag in hand, and a smile already deployed. "Thea Calloway. Julian Cross. I've heard everything about you, and I brought presents." He set the gift bag on the counter and extended his hand. "You're even more beautiful than Declan described, which is saying something because he's usually very stingy with compliments."

Thea wiped her palm on the dish towel and shook Julian's hand. "He's never complimented me."

"See? Stingy. Told you."

Nolan stepped forward. He didn't extend his hand until she extended hers first. "Nolan Reeves."

"Thea." She shook his hand. "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise." He stepped back.

Thea smiled at them and moved toward me. "You could have warned me," she hissed under her breath.

"I know."

"I look like a disaster."

"You look fine."

She grabbed the pan and moved it off the burner. She scraped the contents into the trash, blackened garlic from the looks of it — the third funeral this week for that particular ingredient.

“Can I hold her again?” I heard Julian ask. I nodded and handed her to him. Lena’s tiny hand reached for his tie immediately. "I think your baby’s trying to strangle me, Hale."

Thea crossed the kitchen and eased Lena's fingers off the fabric. "Here. Support her head with this hand. Tuck her against your body, not away from it."

She adjusted his hold. Julian looked down at Lena. Lena looked up at Julian. She grabbed his finger.

"Oh." Julian's voice dropped. "Oh, that's…okay. That's…" He swallowed and looked at me. "You're in trouble, Dec. She's going to own every room she walks into."

"Like father, like daughter," I said.

Julian carried Lena to the living room and sat down carefully on the couch, like the cushions were made of glass. Nolan stood across the room, watching. His hands were behind his back.

Dinner was Thea's rescue attempt after the garlic catastrophe. She'd pivoted to pasta with butter and herbs, which was within her skill range, and a salad that Nolan assembled without being asked, which startled everyone. I almost didn’t want to eat it. Just in case.

We ate at the kitchen counter because the dining table was covered in case files Thea was reviewing.

Julian ate with enthusiasm. "This is delicious."

"It's butter and pasta."

"Exactly. Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication." He raised his fork. "Leonardo da Vinci said that."