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I laugh. “Yeah, that is not going to happen. Even if they have one, I don’t think Teo is going to borrow it any time soon.”
“Come anyway. Promise?”
“It’s a deal.”
Lina, Renate, and Lukas walk me down to the F-bahn station. The big bodyguard has been hanging around quite a bit since Lina broke her arm, and he and Renate seem to have become an item. Not that either of them has admitted it.
Lukas squeezes me in an unexpected bear hug. “Take care of the prince. He’s a good man.”
When he releases me, I take a half step back and throw a salute at him. “I’ll do my best.”
Renate and I exchange a handshake, and she promises to visit if she ever comes to the US. Lina grabs me in another tight embrace, pressing her damp face to my shoulder. “I’m going to miss you so much!”
“I’ll miss you too. But you and Hans will have a great time in Belgium. I expect to see lots of pictures. And send some chocolates home with him. The good ones.”
She grins and squeezes me again. “The good ones.”
My flight into Redmond arrives only a few minutes late. I drag my carry-on suitcase down the long corridor from the plane. Teo offered to come, but Dad had already promised to meet me. I’m anxious to see Teo, but we both figured my dad would want some father-daughter time. The last three months have been the longest we’ve been apart—ever. Thanks to Nica, he seems to have weathered the long separation better than I’d feared.
The straggling line of passengers bunches up at the exit from the security area, and I wait my turn through the revolving doors. They dump us into baggage claim—which is just two luggage carousels at the end of the single arrivals and departures concourse.
My dad stands well back from the exit, but he’s impossible to miss. He’s wearing a bright red suit and tie in an eye-watering Christmas pattern with snowflakes, trees, and holly leaves and holding a huge white sign with green lettering that says, “Welcome home from prison, Eva!”
“Dad!” I dodge around an older couple who have stopped to gape and race at him. “I’m free! Did you find the money?”
Laughing, he drops the sign and wraps me in a tight hug. “Welcome home, punk!” Louder, he announces over my shoulder. “Don’t worry, she’s not dangerous. Anymore.”
The older couple chuckles nervously, then quickly moves to the far end of the baggage claim.
I step back and smack my forehead. “I can’t believe I let you get the last prank. I should have hidden inside until everyone left!”
He folds the sign and tucks it under his arm, then grabs my suitcase handle. “You did enough. I’m still reeling from the cookies. And the fake Oreos.”
“When did you find those?”
“Last week. Nica’s had me on a keto diet, but after the raisin cookies, it was a slippery slope.” He slings an arm around me and turns me around. “By the way, there’s someone here to see you.”
Teo steps out from behind a nearby pillar. His heart-stopping smile almost blinds me to the bright green suit covered in red and gold ornaments. My heart slams to a stop, then goes into overdrive. “Teo.” I throw myself into his arms.
He holds me tight, and his arms are home for me. I bury my face against his neck, breathing in his familiar, comforting, intoxicating scent. Then I pull back far enough to see his face. “Hi.”
“Hi.” He pauses for a long second, then lowers his lips to mine. For the second time, my heart stops. My world contracts to this moment and the touch of his lips on mine. I am lost and found in the same instance.
“Ahem.” My dad’s awkward throat clearing breaks us apart. “The luggage is coming out. Same bag with the Barney scarf?”
“I can get it,” Teo and I say together, then laugh.
“Nope. I got this.”
“The scarf is gone, Dad. Long story. I’ll tell you on the ride home.” I exchange a laughing glance with Teo. “It’s a Tripl3Threat scarf now—blue shamrocks with glitter. You can’t miss it.”
“If I knew who Tripl3Threat was, I’m sure that would be true.” He holds up a hand to keep us from following. “I’ll figure it out.”
Since half of the passengers have already left, I’m sure he’ll have no trouble finding my bag. I turn back to Teo. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” He kisses me again.
When we come up for air, my father has returned with the bright purple suitcase with the sparkling scarf tied to the handle. We file out to the sidewalk, where the cold night turns our breath into clouds of vapor. Across the four snow-covered lanes—mostly empty—in front of Arrivals and Departures to the short-term parking, Dad’s dirty green Subaru sits alone under a streetlamp. “I’m surprised you didn’t wait at the cell phone pickup point, after the way you dumped me off in August.”
