"Oh. Okay, thank you. Yes, I'll call you back this afternoon. I know—I'll try."
Adam Parrish hung up the kitchen phone with sweaty palms. He wasn't sure what was racing faster, his heart or his mind. He gripped the edge of the sink so hard that his knuckles turned white, and he thought he might be sick.
Because in that moment, he wasn't at The Barns looking out into a perfect green summer pasture dotted with grazing cows. His husband and daughter weren't playing in the living room. He was back in the trailer in Henrietta, backed into the corner of his parents' insufferably small kitchen/living room, as Robert Parrish wailed into him. He was falling off the porch as Robert pushed him down and deafened his left ear. He was standing in the courtroom practically shaking as he waited for the judge to speak.
But he was in the kitchen of The Barns. He was looking out at the pasture where the cattle grazed. If he looked closely at the edge of the forest, he was almost certain he could see herd of deer that lived on the property. And Ronan was in the living room. He was only a few feet away, having a tea party with their three-year-old daughter, Aislin.
Adam used this image to calm himself. Ronan—tough, cold, and fearless on the outside—was sitting cross-legged on the floor with Chainsaw the raven on his shoulder and a miniature teacup in his hand. He had refused to wear the feather boa Aislin had offered him but compromised by draping is across his lap.
Ronan was real.
Aislin was real.
They were his life now.
Not the trailer.
That was getting easier for Adam to remember now. The nightmares were fewer and farther between the longer he stayed at The Barns. There were still moments where if felt unreal, though. Sometimes he would catch himself thinking how a hick from a trailer park could end up in the lap of luxury with a man who loved him. How could the scholarship kid who used to be made fun of for wearing the wrong jeans, who had to work himself dead just to pay for school, end up never having to worry about money again? What did he ever do right to deserve any of this, let alone all of it?
He cut the faucet on and splashed cold water on his face to clear his mind. With one last deep breath, he left the kitchen.
Adam appeared in the doorway of the living room. Ronan, Chainsaw, and Aislin were just as he had left them, though more of Aislin's stuffed animals seemed to have joined the party. Adam stood quietly and watched them, in awe of how one little girl could change them so much.
It was Ronan who noticed him first, because Aislin was thoroughly engrossed in pouring imaginary tea into a cup for her teddy bear. Ronan barely flicked his gaze to Adam, but it was enough.
Ronan stood up and patted Aislin's golden brown curls, mumbling, "I need to talk to Daddy," as he went. Chainsaw hopped off Ronan's shoulder onto the coffee table and began to peck at his discarded teacup.
Adam didn't say anything as the couple made their way back to the kitchen. Ronan closed the flimsy bi-fold door that separated the kitchen from the hallway to give them the illusion of privacy.
"Who called, and why do you look like you've seen a ghost?" Ronan asked gruffly.
"Nadia Klase from child services," Adam said. "She was the one who placed us with Aislin, remember?"
Ronan remembered, but he didn't acknowledge it.
Adam continued. "Ro, there are these twins. They need us. They're ten years old. Their home life isn't great. Their mom died, and their dad—beats them. The courts just got enough evidence to take them away, but they want somewhere to put them, and Nadia thought that, with my history, I—we—would be a good fit for them."
Ronan didn't say anything; he just stared at Adam, long and hard and steady. Adam couldn't read the look, but he knew Ronan understood the gravity of what he just said.
"Adam, we can't take in more kids," he finally said. "I barely know what to do with the one we have."
Adam had expected this initial reaction. Despite over a decade together, despite a successful three-year marriage, despite how great of a father he was to Aislin, Ronan still hid behind his hard exterior sometimes, especially when confronted with things he was unsure of. Adam squared his shoulders and exhaled the breath he hadn't known he had been holding.
"Ronan. Their names are Noah and Niall."
Ronan tensed. Adam saw the muscles along his jaw clench; his shoulders and biceps rippled at the sound of the names they had so long avoided saying.
"Noah and Niall," Ronan breathed, his voice rough and hoarse. Noah Czerny and Niall Lynch were dead. Had been dead. They weren't supposed to—couldn't—come back…no matter how much anyone wanted them to. And yet…
Even though he lived in a world where he knew dreams could come to life and magic literally flowed just under the surface, Ronan Lynch was hard pressed to believe in signs.
But this was a sign, as clear and blue as the afternoon sky.
He looked at Adam for another hard minute before the pitter-patter of tiny feet broke the moment. Ron an gave Adam a curt, conceding nod and tossed his cellphone at him before turning to meet Aislin at the kitchen door. Adam snatched Ronan's phone out of the air and immediately started dialing.
"Daddy? Papa?" came Aislin's little voice.
"Hey, Bug," Ronan smiled as he scooped her into his arms. "You didn't leave Chainsaw in the living room all alone with our tea party, did you?" Aislin giggled. "We better get back, or she's going to eat all our cookies."
Aislin giggled again, and Ronan shot a "I-hope-you-know-what-you're-doing-Parrish" look over his shoulder as he left.
As Adam dialed Nadia Klase's office number, he hoped he did, too.
"Ms. Klase? Adam Parrish. We can take them," Adam said breathlessly after Nadia answered. He spoke quickly, equal parts exhilarated and terrified, and ran a hand through his short dusty brown hair as they talked.
"That's fantastic news, Mr. Parrish!" Nadia chirped, sounding slightly surprised and relieved. "Can you take them tonight?"
"To—tonight?" he stuttered.
He was about to ask for another day or two when Nadia spoke.
"I thought that might be a bit much," she said. Was Adam imagining it, or could he hear disappointment in her voice? "Don't worry, Mr. Parrish. The boys can remain in federal custody until you're equipped to take them."
Adam acted hastily, and he knew he'd kick himself for it later, but for these kids—for Noah and Niall—he knew it was worth it. "No, no, no. We can take them tonight," he said. "No problem," he added a little weakly. He felt Nadia's smile through the phone.
"Great. I'm working a little late tonight, so I'll deliver them personally. Say around seven-thirty?"
"O—okay," Adam said. He was aware that he was grinning deliriously, and he was glad that this was a phone call and not a face-to-face meeting.
"The same address as before?"
"Yes ma'am."
"We'll see you then."
They hung up, and it was a full ten seconds before it hit Adam what he had agreed to. He hadn't even bothered to ask what the boys liked or if they had any medical conditions or if they even had any pajamas to wear tonight. Man, Ronan was going to be pissed.
Adam darted out to the living room for the second time that afternoon, this time more loudly, causing both Ronan and Aislin to look up.
"Ronan, can we talk?" Adam said. His Henrietta drawl was flaring up like it did when he couldn't be bothered to control it, meaning that something important was happening.
Ronan nodded.
"Be right back, Bug," he said to Aislin as he stood up.
"Agaaaaaain?" she whined.
"Yes, agaaaaaain," Ronan teased and tickled her under the chin before meeting Adam at the edge of the room.
"Noah and Niall are coming tonight Nadia is bringing them over about 7:30 I know I should have checked with you and we haven't even told Aislin yet but I couldn't risk them ending up somewhere else." Adam exhaled his speech in one breath.
"Goddamnit, Adam," Ronan swore. "Tonight?"
There wasn't anger in his tone; it harsh, but it was empty. He was exasperated at best, and Adam could tell, so rather than get defensive, Adam smiled.
"I guess I kinda' screwed up, huh?" he grinned.
Ronan returned Adam's shy smile with a wickedly sharp one of his own. "You are a screw up, Parrish." He planted a kiss on Adam's forehead. "But if you were anyone else's screw up, I'd probably be dead by now." He then glanced down at the cell phone that was still in Adam's hand. "Call Gansey and Blue," he said. "Have them come over. I'll have Aislin clean up her godforsaken tea party, and then we can tell her together."
This time it was Adam who nodded in response. B ut as Ronan turned to face Aislin, he couldn't help himself. Adam grabbed Ronan by the shoulder and spun him around into a kiss. It was fast and hot and hard and sweet and smoky and tender and brave and dangerous and everything that Adam and Ronan had always loved about each other.
"Thanks, Ro," Adam whispered, and he wasn't talking about the kiss.