17. The Saint Medal #2
Every few minutes one of them glances toward the house. Always watching. Always protecting.
Maria notices the silver saint medal resting against Harmony’s blouse.
“San Miguel. Was that a gift?”
Harmony touches it gently.
"Rafael's abuela gave it to me."
Maria smiles.
"San Miguel."
"For both of us," Harmony says.
Maria closes her fingers around the medal for a moment before letting it fall.
"We'll take every prayer we can get."
As the afternoon draws to a close, Hector walks me to the truck while the others clear the table inside. He folds his arms and looks back toward the house.
"My daughter has spent her whole life deciding what's right and doing it anyway."
"I've noticed."
He smiles faintly.
"She doesn't need another man telling her what to do."
"No."
He looks at me.
"She needs someone who'll stand beside her while she decides for herself."
I hold his gaze.
"That's exactly who I intend to be."
For a long moment he says nothing.
Then he offers his hand.
I take it.
"Good," he says.
"Because she's inherited her mother's stubbornness."
Behind us, Harmony opens the front door.
"Are you two talking about me?"
Hector smiles.
"Always."
Harmony rolls her eyes, slipping her hand into mine as we walk back toward the family.
For a little while longer, the war can wait.
El Paso International Airport. 1730 hours.
The drive to the airport is quicker than the journey out.
Harmony watches the city pass by through the passenger window, one hand resting over the saint medal beneath her blouse.
Dimitry drives while Nikolai watches the sidewalks and intersections as we head toward the airport.
At the private terminal, Gabriel is waiting beside the Learjet.
Harmony slows beside me.
“I didn’t know he was coming.”
“Neither did I.”
Gabriel smiles as we approach.
“I heard you were in town and wanted to wish you both the best.”
He hugs Harmony first, then offers me his hand before pulling me into a brief embrace.
“You’ve got family on both sides of the border now,” he tells her.
“I know.”
“And both sides are praying for you.”
Her fingers brush the saint medal beneath her blouse.
“I'll carry every one of them with me.”
He turns to me.
"Take care of her."
"I will."
"I wasn't asking."
I laugh.
"I know."
The engines are already turning when we climb aboard.
Within minutes, Juárez and El Paso begin shrinking beneath us, the Rio Grande winding between them like a thread stitched through two countries that have always belonged together.
Harmony slips her hand into mine as the aircraft levels out.
"Tired?" I ask.
"A little."
She rests her head against my shoulder.
"I didn't realize how much I needed today."
Neither did I. I kiss the top of her head. The steady vibration of the engines fills the cabin. Before long, her breathing slows.
She falls asleep with one hand still wrapped around mine, her thumb resting unconsciously against the saint medal.
I watch the sunset paint the clouds outside the window.
For a few precious hours, we remembered who we were outside the fight.
Grandson.
Daughter.
Brother.
Sister.
People with families who loved us long before HAVEN found us.
The reminder matters.
Because when the wheels touch down in San Francisco, those parts of us don't disappear. They simply step aside while the mission takes over again.
Harmony stirs as the wheels lower beneath us.
"We're here?"
"Almost."
She sits up slowly, smoothing a hand over her hair before looking out the window at the lights of San Francisco spreading beneath us.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For taking me home."
I brush my thumb across her knuckles.
"You took me home too."
A soft smile touches her lips before she glances down at the saint medal resting against her blouse.
"Your abuela's going to worry."
"She always worries."
"Mine too."
"Maybe that's what mothers and grandmothers are for."
She nods thoughtfully.
"It means we've got something worth coming back to."
And people who'll notice if we don't.
I squeeze her hand once.
"Exactly."
Waiting on the tarmac is the same black SUV that brought us to the airport.
Dimitry takes the driver's seat while Nikolai stows our bags in the back.
By the time we reach MacLeod’s Baby Bump Hotel, the lights are glowing across the entrance and the day has finally caught up with us.
Dimitry pulls beneath the covered drive and shifts into park.
Harmony leans forward between the seats.
“Thank you. Both of you.”
Nikolai glances back.
“For driving?”
“For all of it,” she says. “Juárez. My family. Making sure we could have today without constantly watching the door.”
“That was the job,” Dimitry says.
“It was more than that,” I tell him.
He meets my gaze in the mirror, then gives a brief nod.
Nikolai climbs out and brings our bags around while Harmony steps onto the sidewalk.
She hugs him before he can stop her. His arms hover for a second before settling carefully around her.
Dimitry receives the same treatment, though his expression suggests nobody warned him this assignment would involve gratitude.
“You’re welcome,” he says.
Harmony slips her hand into mine as we head inside.
Behind us, the brothers wait until the doors close before pulling away.
MacLeod’s Baby Bump Hotel, Private Suite, Sausalito. 2030 hours.
In our suite, Harmony turns to me, her golden dress catching the warm glow of the bedside lamps.
I reach out, taking the zipper between my fingers, and lower it inch by inch.
She reaches for me, unbuttoning my shirt with steady hands.
We undress each other slowly, stepping out of our clothes until there's nothing left between us.
I guide her back onto the mattress, laying her down as though she's something precious. To me, she's not fragile, but she is irreplaceable.
Starting at her toes, I press lingering kisses against her skin, moving up the curves of her calves to her knees.
I trace the warmth of her inner thighs, deliberately skipping the heat of her core to keep the tension building.
My lips travel over her ribs and around the outer curves of her breasts, carefully avoiding her hardened nipples.
I take her right hand, kissing each fingertip before tracing a path up the inside of her forearm to her shoulder. I do the same with her left arm, taking all the time in the world. I kiss the soft line of her jaw and the bridge of her nose, deliberately hovering over her lips without touching them.
"Rafael," she murmurs, her skin flushed.
I gently turn her onto her stomach. Starting at her ankles, I kiss my way up the backs of her legs, over the curve of her hips, and along the length of her spine to the nape of her neck.
Harmony rolls back over, placing her hands against my chest and pushing me onto my back.
"My turn," she says, her voice low and playful.
She kisses my cheeks, my forehead, and my chin, carefully avoiding my mouth.
Her lips wander down over my collarbone and across my chest, circling my pectorals while leaving my nipples untouched.
She kisses down each of my arms, pressing her lips to every finger before tracing the line of my abs to the V of my hips.
Her gaze drops to my erection.
"Well, I can't ignore that," she says with a quiet smile.
She wraps her fingers around the base of my cock, her tongue sweeping over the tip. She takes me into her mouth, licking and sucking with a slow, agonizing rhythm that drags a low groan from my throat.
When I can't take another second, I reach down and pull her up by her arms. She comes willingly with a wet smile on her face.
"I need you now," I tell her.
Harmony obliges, straddling my hips and sinking down onto me. She's slick and creamy already, moving in slow, deliberate circles that tease us both, lifting almost all the way off before sliding back down in one smooth motion.
When I can't take any more, I reach up and lock my hands around her hips, holding her firmly in place. She grinds against me as I thrust upward to meet her rhythm, the friction burning deliciously as a familiar tingling starts at the base of my spine.
The momentum catches us both at once. She arches back as her body tightens around mine, her release pulling my own right behind it. I drive up one last time, holding her tightly as we shatter together.
Harmony collapses against my chest, her warm breath evening out against my shoulder. I wrap my arms around her, holding her like an anchor.
"That was amazing, mi tesoro," I whisper, tracing the curve of her cheek. "I'm falling in love with you."
She smiles against my skin.
"I'm glad, because I am too."
I look down, catching her eyes.
"You are?"
"Yes," she says with a mischievous grin. "I'm falling in love with myself."
A laugh escapes me. I hook my fingers into her side, tickling her gently until she bursts into bright giggles, squirming against me before settling back beneath my chin.
I've never seen her this playful, and I'm glad because it feels good to laugh. To smile.
She holds me like she's anchoring me to the earth.
I hold her like a promise.
Between us are two languages, two faiths, and the absolute certainty that this is what we're building