Gi shifted in her seat, looking at Wheeler uncomfortably.

"Linka?" She asked, and she looked confused. "You want me to tell you about Linka?"

Wheeler swallowed. "Yeah," he said softly. "Tell me… you know, what's she's been up to. How she is. About Pieter."

"Pieter?" Gi raised an eyebrow. "How do you know about Pieter?"

Wheeler sat back, exhaling hard. "I ran into them yesterday. At Yankee stadium. Linka. And Pieter. Two rows in front of Mikey and me."

Gi shifted in her seat again. "Oh. Right."

"You knew she was going to be at Yankee stadium yesterday, didn't you?" Wheeler asked slowly, putting two and two together. "That's why you were weird on the phone. Because you knew she was there too."

Gi looked awkward. "Yes, but… Yankee stadium has like, a thousand seats," she argued. "What were the chances you would sit in section 224?"

"Wait, how do you know it was section 224?" Wheeler asked, and Gi shifted again.

"Because that's where Linka always sits when she's in town and watches the Orioles," she explained. "She loves the Orioles, and never misses any of their games at Yankee Stadium. She even goes to Camden Yards in Baltimore, when she has a free week— look, can I order a coffee? This is weird for me. Really weird."

"Weird for you? How do you think I feel?" Wheeler asked.

"I don't know, Wheeler," Gi replied, and her tone was suddenly sharp. "I haven't been allowed to talk about Linka with you for what... about seven years? And now all of a sudden you're asking me about her and wanting to know about Pieter. So yes, this is weird for me. Really weird."

"She looked well," Wheeler said softly, looking into the black depths of his coffee. "She looked really well."

Gi sighed. "She should. She takes care of herself. And her company is doing really well. She can afford nice things."

"Her company?" Wheeler asked. "She has a company?"

"Software design," Gi replied. "And if we're doing this, I'm ordering coffee."

Wheeler nodded, gesturing for a nearby waitress. "What are you having?"

"Something strong. I have a feeling I'm going to need it."

Wheeler thought for a moment while Gi ordered a latte with a double shot of espresso and an extra side of cream.

"Can I ask you somethin'?"

"Sure."

"When you had to go away last May, when you went to Europe... you were in Germany, right? With Linka?"

Gi nodded. "Yes," she admitted slowly. "It was a special occasion. How did you know it was Germany?"

Linka's wedding, Wheeler realised. Gi flew over there for Linka's wedding.

"Yesterday, when I saw Lin with… with Pieter," Wheeler had to be careful not to spit the name out, "they spoke in German. So, I figured that, umm, that Lin, she... she lives in Germany?"

Gi looked at Wheeler carefully, her eyes searching over his face. "Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked him.

"Yeah," Wheeler nodded. He'd started peeling off the bandage. He couldn't leave it half-hanging off now. He needed to rip the damn thing off and expose the festering wound within him. "Yeah. I need to know."

"She lives in Munich," Gi told him. She smiled gratefully up at the waitress when her drink was delivered, a plume of steam rising from it. "Like I said, she owns a software design company, and she needs to be located close to the European market."

"And, obviously Pieter's from Munich too," Wheeler filled in. "How convenient," he added, trying desperately to keep the bitterness from his tone.

Gi looked surprised. "How did you know that?"

Wheeler sighed. "Just a hunch I had."

He wondered what sort of building they lived in. Not an apartment, like his. Probably a house. A house with a garden full of birds. He hoped it was nice. He hoped Linka had a happy life, he realised. He wanted her to be happy.

Even if it wasn't with him.

"Munich is nice," Gi said, sipping at her coffee. "Hey, you want to order some cake to share?"

"I'm not hungry. You order somethin' though, if you want it."

"I shouldn't. You know how much I like cake though. They had this strudel in Munich. By the Englischer Garten. Apple and raisins. I could have eaten it for days. Linka took me right around the city. We went to look at galleries and all sorts," Gi grinned. "But I liked the strudel best."

Wheeler grinned back.

"How often does Linka, uh, visit you?"

"Actually, she's here once every couple of months," Gi said. "Work stuff. She also schedules a visit whenever the Orioles have a series against the Yankees. She never misses one of their games. I keep telling her that they play, like, right across the country... but she insists on seeing their games here." Gi gave him a soft smile. "I think she keeps hoping to run into you at one of them."

Wheeler felt a small dart of pleasure at that, but he kept his face still, sipping at his coffee.

"Don't pretend that news doesn't thrill you, Wheeler," Gi teased him. "I know it does. That's why she's so insistent about coming to Yankee Stadium to see the Orioles, and not Camden Yards, although she goes there too, sometimes. She knows you work for the New York Times and—"

"Gi," Wheeler exhaled, but Gi sat taller, looking at him squarely.

"I didn't tell her! She looked you up," she explained. "She misses you, you idiot. She was devastated when you left. Absolutely devastated. Honestly, I'd never seen a woman so messed up. It was the worst break-up I've ever seen."

"I didn't want that," Wheeler said softly, swallowing hard.

"I know," Gi said, reaching over to squeeze his hand. "The whole thing was a mess. For both of you. She's better now though, don't worry."

Yeah, thought Wheeler bitterly. She has Pieter now.

"Does she stay with you when she's in town?" he asked. It suddenly occurred to him that he'd been to Gi's little apartment, and so in all likelihood had Linka. He'd been close to her without even realising it.

"No," Gi shook her head. "She owns an apartment here."

At that, Wheeler looked up in surprise. "She does?"

"Yes. I told you she was doing well. She stays there when she's in town. We meet up for coffee and drinks. Sometimes she's here for a week. Sometimes just a day or two."

"Right," Wheeler said. "Right."

"Are you okay?" Gi asked. "I know you love her, even when you try to pretend you don't. This can't be easy for you."

Wheeler sighed. "I've tried for seven years to get over her, Gi. It hasn't worked. I think about her all the time."

Gi blew onto her cup, trying to cool the liquid within. "You're still an idiot, you know."

"Excuse me?"

"Sorry, you're right. A fucking idiot. You're still a fucking idiot where Lin is concerned. My bad."

"I thought keeping away from her was the best thing," Wheeler replied miserably. "I can't be around her, I can't be away from her. Am I gonna die one day, still thinkin' about her?"

"Probably." Gi gave him a pitying glance. "So, fix it. Go and talk to her."

"Yeah, right."

"I'm serious. Go and talk to her."

"What, her and Pieter?" Wheeler asked bitterly.

"Pieter? God no. Don't talk to him," Gi shuddered.

"What? You don't like him?"

Gi shrugged. "It's not that I don't like him. He's okay. Dry as a bone and boring. But okay."

Wheeler couldn't help it, and felt a stab of malicious pleasure at Gi's words.

"What does Linka see in him then?"

Gi shrugged again, sipping at her coffee once more. "Probably his amazing brain. He's a great coder. She'd be a fool to let go of him. Oh, and he cooks a nice steak. Even Kwame said so. He barbeques on his terrace."

Internally, Wheeler scoffed at that. Linka needed more than an amazing brain and the ability to cook a good steak. She needed someone who could make her laugh. Make her smile. Make her happy.

And sometimes, even make her cry.

"I haven't told her a word about you, you know," Gi added clearly, looking at him oddly. "Neither has Kwame, or Ma-Ti. We never thought your cutting her out was a good idea, but we respected your request for privacy. She doesn't know anything, other than what she could find out for herself on the net."

"Not about Mikey or Trish?" Wheeler asked.

"Nope. Shit," Gi sat forward. "You said she saw you with Mikey yesterday? You know she probably thought Mikey was yours, right?"

Wheeler felt his stomach drop, before he gave Gi a sad shrug. What did it matter? Linka was married. It didn't matter what she thought of him, or what she thought of Mikey.

"I always thought Linka would end up with Gregor," he carried on, as though Gi hadn't even spoken.

"Gregor?" Gi thought for a moment. "Oh, right, him. Oh no, after you left, Linka was devastated. I think she tried dating Gregor briefly, about a year after you disappeared from her life... but it never worked out. I think Gregor's married now. Kwame still sees him. They still work together on all that Green Planet stuff."

"Oh," Wheeler sat back. For years, he tortured himself with images of Linka and Gregor, of the two of them together. For years, he'd suffered when he'd imagined Gregor touching Linka, kissing Linka, making love to her. And for what?

"You should talk to Linka," Gi decided, sitting back in her chair and staring at him.

"Yeah, right," Wheeler said again.

"No, I mean it," Gi looked almost cross. "She's the only woman you've ever loved, Wheeler. You should talk to her. You're miserable without her."

Wheeler considered the idea. Gi was right, he was miserable without Linka in his life. But would he be more miserable with her back in it? Knowing she was married, and completely off-limits?

"I wouldn't even know how to get in touch with her," Wheeler replied finally. "Even if I did want to speak with her."

Gi leaned forward. "I have her number."

But Wheeler shook his head. "No," he said firmly. "I can't do that. I can't just take her number from you and call her after cutting her out like I did."

"I have her address too," Gi said slyly. "Here in New York, and in Munich."

"That would be even worse," Wheeler reflected, shaking his head at Gi's audacity. "I can't just turn up at her door."

"So, turn up somewhere you know she's going to be," Gi shrugged, pouring the extra cream into her coffee.

Wheeler rolled his eyes. "In case it's escaped your notice, Gi, I'm not a fuckin' mind reader."

"No, but you are a fucking idiot," Gi replied instantly. "Didn't I already tell you? Yankee Stadium. Any time the Orioles are playing." She gave Wheeler a pointed look. "Like today. It's the end of their series, right?"

"Yeah," Wheeler muttered. "But even if I go today, she won't be there. My German is rusty, but I'm pretty sure Pieter said somethin' about a plane to catch."

Gi scoffed. "Maybe for him. Trust me, Wheeler, Linka will be there. She never misses an Orioles game at Yankee Stadium."

"Gi—"

"Wheeler," Gi cut him off, reaching over the table to take his hand. "Just go, will you? Section 224, row 8."

There was nothing left in row 8 when Wheeler turned up at Yankee Stadium late in the afternoon. In fact, there was nothing left in 224 at all. So, Wheeler did something he never normally did, and flashed his press pass at the gate.

"Wheeler," grinned Eddie, one of the Yankee's event managers, coming to meet him at the turnstiles and waving him through. Eddie was a decent guy, and Wheeler got along well with him. "I thought you had a weekend off. Didn't know you were workin' today."

"I'm not," Wheeler grinned back. "But I couldn't get tickets through regular channels, so…" he gave a hopeful shrug. "Hopin' you could do me a favour. I'm lookin' for a seat in 224 if you've got anything."

"It's the last series of the season," Eddie replied. "We're sold out, but I can get you up into the press suite if—"

"I was kinda hopin' for 224," Wheeler said, trying to look casual. "Row 8."

Eddie gave him a strange look. "224, row 8? That's oddly specific, Wheels."

Wheeler shrugged again. "Let's just say I appreciate the view from there."

Eddie frowned. "The view? Look, Wheels, we're sold out, so I don't think I can—"

Wheeler stepped forwards. "Hey, Eddie, remember that time we went out clubbin' three years ago and you saw a girl you liked dancin' by the DJ but you were too nervous to talk to her? What did I do for you?"

Eddie sighed. "You sent her a drink from the bar and told her it was from me."

"And then what did I do?"

"Pretended to be ill so I had to help you home... and she came along to help too."

Wheeler gave him a smile. "Tell me what happened to that girl, Eddie?"

Eddie grinned at him. "I married her."

"So, really, my askin' for a seat in 224, row 8 isn't all that hard to do, right? And you know—"

"Fine, fine, fine," Eddie laughed, gesturing for Wheeler to follow him. "I owe you. Look, I might be able to upgrade one of our guests in row 8 to a suite, which would free up space for you. Did you have a particular seat in mind? You know," Eddie looked at him slyly. "For the view?"

Wheeler grinned back at him. "Let's go and take a look at row 8, and I'll tell you which one I need."

Linka was sitting in the middle of 224, close to where she'd been the day before. She was wearing her battered jersey again with the same Orioles cap on her head, though today her hair was loose, the ends wispy in the breeze, watching the field carefully.

She was alone today, Wheeler noted. Pieter was nowhere to be seen.

There was a couple sitting next to her, and Wheeler watched from a distance as Eddie went up to them, congratulating them for winning an upgrade to one of Yankee Stadium's suites with complimentary champagne and a bag or merchandise. They were delighted, and Wheeler felt his heart lighten when Linka turned to smile at them as they left. She still had her same empathy and kindness, Wheeler realised. She clearly still took delight in the happiness of others.

When Eddie passed by Wheeler with his 'winning' couple, he gave him a knowing look.

"Yeah," he muttered to Wheeler as he passed. "I'd have called in a favour for that view too. Enjoy the game, you scheming bastard."

"I will," Wheeler called back, before picking his way along row 8 to the two empty seats now by Linka's side. He dropped in the seat closest to him, leaving an empty one between them.

Linka looked across, and her face, which had been ready with a kind, welcome smile, instantly changed. Her mouth fell open, and she sat back in her seat, crossing her arms across her chest and staring at him.

"Why do I get the feeling?" she asked softly, "that there is more to this than just chance?"

He gave her a sheepish shrug, trying to disguise the fact that his heart was beating at what felt like a million miles an hour.

"What can I say?" he asked back, trying to sound casual. "I like the Orioles."

"You are a Yankees fan," Linka replied. "And in your last game report, you said the Orioles played like... how did you say it? An insipid team without an interesting homerun between them, who played more like dodos than birds of flight."

Wheeler grinned. "Yeah, and it was true."

"You knew it would annoy me."

"Also true. But look honey, the Orioles might be shit, but I still like 'em."

Linka gave him a look, that spark of argumentative fire coming into her eyes which Wheeler remembered so well and had missed so much. "Why?" she asked him.

"They have the prettiest fans," he said simply.

The fire in her eyes was immediately extinguished and Linka blushed, looking away from him and towards the field.

Wheeler leaned back in his chair, taking in the afternoon sunshine, a grin he couldn't remove stretching across his face.

It was going to be a good game.

They stole glances at each other all through the afternoon. The game ran to three hours and nine innings, and the sky was nearly dark when the Yankees soundly thumped the Orioles and the stadium began emptying out.

"The Orioles were robbed," Linka lamented, and Wheeler shrugged.

"I warned you years ago not to get involved with them."

"And I told you that the birds need me. That still stands."

He sighed at that, remembering their conversations from so many years ago.

"What else still stands?" he asked her. He longed to reach over and touch her cheek. He longed to run his hands through the wispy ends of her hair.

"What do you mean?" she asked him, and he could hear the nervousness in her voice.

"It's been a long time," Wheeler reflected. "I'm just wonderin' if you're still the same Lin I once knew, all those years ago."

Momentarily, Linka looked sad. "It has been a long time, hasn't it?"

Wheeler took a deep breath. "You, uh, got time for a catch up? With an old friend?"

Linka gave him a curious look. "Do you?"

"Yeah," Wheeler said. "For you, I've got all the time in the world. I'm just wonderin' if, you know, you need to get back for... for Pieter, or anything."

"Pieter?" Linka looked surprised. "How do you know about Pieter?"

Wheeler took another deep breath. "Gi told me."

"Gi?" Linka frowned. "That's odd. I did not know Pieter would be of interest to you."

Wheeler stared at her. How could she think her husband wouldn't be of interest to him?

"Well, when I saw you with him yesterday..."

At that, Linka nodded. "Ah, so that is how you know of him," she gave a sigh. "Poor Pieter is not a baseball fan. He comes along sometimes to keep me happy though."

Wheeler swallowed, feeling a little of his old heartbreak open up anew within him. "He's a good guy?"

"Yes," Linka smiled. "He is a very good guy."

"And do you need to get back to him now, or do you have time? For a drink with me?"

Wheeler watched as Linka looked at her phone, checking the time. "Well, it is very late in Munich now," she laughed. "I do not think Pieter would appreciate a call from me. He has very strict rules about when I can contact him. I can be a little demanding, sometimes," she admitted.

Wheeler smarted on Linka's behalf. If he had been married to her, he would have let her call him at any time, day or night, he thought. Still, he swallowed down his ire.

"C'mon then," he nodded over his shoulder. "I know a place nearby."

"You don't need to be... um, you do not need to be at home?" Linka asked, suddenly awkward, and Wheeler shook his head.

"I told you. For you, I have all the time in the world."

He took her to a bar he liked a few blocks away. It was dark and quiet, with a few regulars propping up the counter, but otherwise empty. They sat at a table in the corner, abruptly awkward with each other.

It had been seven years, but Wheeler didn't know what to say. He could hardly open with, 'I still love you, I miss you, I need you, and I hate that you're with somebody else.' So, instead he sat, nursing a beer, watching Linka sip a cold white wine.

"I read your work, you know," Linka admitted softly. "You are very good."

"All my work?" Wheeler asked in surprise. "You mean not just the Orioles reports?"

"All your work," Linka said again, before she blushed. "I suppose it was, uh, a way for me to feel close to you."

Wheeler stared at her. "I thought about you," he admitted. "Every time I wrote about the Orioles. I always hoped you would read it, wherever you were."

"Munich," Linka replied, looking into her drink. "And I did read them. Every single one."

Wheeler took a deep breath. "Look," he started, "look, Lin—"

But Linka sat up, stopping him. She pushed her wine away, chewing on her lip.

"I know that I should not be doing this," she said, and her words came out in a rush of air. She still had a little of her wind power about her, Wheeler realised. She was still air incarnate. "I know I should not, but I have thought long and hard about this moment for years now, and I cannot leave it any longer. I know I should not, but—"

"Shouldn't what?" Wheeler asked, and his heart was beating fast again.

"Shouldn't be... here with you, like I am," Linka said miserably. "And about to talk to you, like I will. I know you are happy, Wheeler, and I am happy you are happy. I have always wanted you to be happy. Always. When I saw you yesterday, with your... your son," she emphasised the word painfully, "I knew you had moved on from me, and I... I want to be happy about that, I really do. But, I— bozhe moi, why is this so difficult?"

Wheeler immediately learned forward, taking Linka's hand in his own. His skin sparked at her touch, and he stared at their joined hands in surprise. He still had a little firepower of his own, he realised. When air was near, fire burned strong within him.

A gift from Gaia, he thought, and his stomach jumped.

"Look, Lin," Wheeler said, squeezing her fingers. "Mikey — the kid you saw yesterday — he's not my son. He's not mine."

Linka stared at him. "What?"

"Mikey's not my kid. I don't have any children. Or... or a wife, or a girlfriend, or anythin' like that."

Linka looked at him with her big green eyes. "You are not married?"

"No," Wheeler said pointedly. "But I know you are, so look, tonight is just goin' to be two old friends catchin' up, okay? Nothin' else. God knows, I'd love to be able to tell you— but I won't, because I respect you and your choices and—"

"Wheeler," now Linka leaned forward too. "I am not married."

He stared at her, working her words over and over in his mind. "You're not... not married," he repeated blankly. "You're not married. But then, Pieter—"

Linka gave a small laugh. "You thought that Pieter was my husband?"

"Well, you were with him yesterday," Wheeler argued, "and he had a wedding ring on and... and yeah, I thought you were married."

Smiling, Linka withdrew her hand from his. She held both up so that he could see them, her fingers long, elegant, and entirely ring free.

"Pieter is my head developer. I own a software company. He is an excellent coder and he often travels with me for work. He is married to a lovely woman called Karolina. He is an excellent employee... but that is all."

Wheeler sat back, stunned.

"But Gi said she'd been with you in Germany... for a special occasion..."

"My company was nominated for an award," Linka replied with a smile. "Gi was my date for the night. I did not win though," she lamented, "although Gi hooked up with a willing bartender, so the evening was not an entire loss."

Wheeler grinned. "Gi was your date? You mean, you don't have a boyfriend or anything?"

Linka caught his eyes, blushing slightly. "I am not going to lie to you... I have had boyfriends."

"I hate them all," Wheeler joked lightly, and Linka sat back, a soft smile on her face.

"I have had boyfriends, but I have never..." she sighed. "Do you remember that night? In my bathroom... with the bikini?"

Wheeler swallowed as an image came to his mind. The mirror. The water. Linka, soft and wet and warm under his hands and on his—

He cleared his throat. "Yeah," he croaked. "I remember."

"You told me you were going to spoil me for all the men who came after you," Linka reminded him.

Wheeler flushed red. "Look, I was just a cocky, stupid kid. I shouldn't have said that."

"Maybe," Linka agreed. "But you were right. You did spoil me for all men."

Wheeler stared at her. "Care to elaborate?"

"Do I need to?" Linka asked. She sighed, reaching forward to take a long drink of her wine. "I wanted a frame of reference. Well, I got one. And it led me to one obvious and thoroughly inevitable conclusion."

"Which was?" Wheeler asked, and if his heart was beating fast before, now it was hammering at a million miles an hour.

Linka smiled at him. "That you were the only one I really wanted."

Wheeler exhaled sharply. "Lin—"

"No," Linka shook her head. "Please let me talk."

Wheeler nodded, keeping his mouth shut. Let her talk, his mind ordered him. For the love of God, don't fuck this up.

"When you left Hope Island," Linka took a deep breath. "I was lost. Losing you... it was like someone had stolen a piece of my soul. I tried moving on, I really did. I went home to Europe. I started my company. I kept myself busy. I dated men. I even tried dating women."

Wheeler sucked in his breath. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I am filing that information away for future reference, Lin."

"Not the time," she chided him, although she smiled too. "Anyway, nothing worked. I thought about you all the time, wondering where you were, what you were doing... who you were with." For a moment, she looked sad. "I thought I had missed my chance," she confessed. "You are such a good man, with a good heart, and you are handsome and sexy and hard working and—" she took a deep breath. "I told myself, he will not stay single for long. Women always want him. He will be with somebody. And then, when I saw you yesterday, with that boy..."

"Trish's son," Wheeler told her gently. "Mikey belongs to Trish. He's like a nephew to me, Lin, but that's all. Trish and I never rekindled anything."

"It would not be my place to find fault if you had," Linka told him. "Yesterday, when I saw you... I was so happy. I've been coming to Yankee Stadium for years hoping to see you, you know," she chewed on her lip again. "But then you were with what I thought was your son, and my heart just... just broke," she sighed again. "I realised I had lost you forever."

"Babe," Wheeler said seriously, inching closer to her. "How could you ever lose me? I've been yours for years now. Years. I told you once before, there will never be anyone else for me. It's always you. Always has been, always will be. I'm a simple guy, really. All I need is you."

Linka stared up at him, her eyes glistening. "I broke your heart," she whispered. "I broke your heart, because I was scared and confused."

"You were only twenty-one," Wheeler whispered back. "We were just kids, really."

"You asked me that day if I loved you," Linka took a deep breath. "And I said 'no'. It was the stupidest moment of my life, Wheeler. Because of course I loved you. Of course I did. I loved you so much. You were my world. And when you left, because of my stupidity, everything got a little darker. I lost the only person I could ever have wanted. You know me, and I know you, and I loved you. I loved you from the very first moment you shut your sweet imperialist mouth simply because I asked you to. I loved you from the moment we sat on that beach, watching birds, to... to..."

Wheeler stared at her. "To when?" he asked her frantically. "Do you... do you still love me now?"

Tentatively, Linka reached out to him. Her hand shook slightly when she cupped his cheek, tracing the outline of his jaw with her fingers. "I love you," she told him. "I love you. It's always you, Yankee," Linka sighed. "Remember what you once told me? About it always being me for you? Well, it is the same for me. It has always been you, Wheeler, and it always will be you, forevermore."

"Babe," Wheeler whispered.

For a moment they sat in the dark corner of the bar, drinking each other in. Wheeler's heart was now doing cartwheels in his chest; his soul felt higher and more free than it had in years.

"You're still my best friend," Linka whispered to him, and she pulled his forehead to hers.

"You're my best friend too," Wheeler replied. "But you're also, I have to tell you, the best sex I ever had."

"Yankee," Linka chided him again, but she didn't pull away, and her lips, so close to his own, formed into a smile.

"Admit it," Wheeler said, "it was good."

"It was amazing," Linka laughed, and Wheeler couldn't help himself. He pulled her closer, pressing his lips against her own.

Wheeler poured years of love and longing into that kiss. It was soft and gentle; reverent and healing. When he pulled away, Linka's cheeks were flushed, and she stared at him in amazement.

"Can we do this?" she asked him. "You and me? Do you want to try it? Really?"

"Babe," Wheeler kissed her again. "There's nothing I want more. We're in love. All we need is each other."

"Yankee," Linka said softly, and this time she kissed him. It was a longer kiss, sweet and sensual, and Wheeler couldn't remember ever being so happy. She loves you, his mind sang. She loves you.

They were an ember, ready to burst into flames.

"This is gonna be great," he said confidently, "It's gonna be amazin', in fact."

"We will need to get to know each other a little again," Linka told him, "and it will not always be easy."

Wheeler nodded. "I know, Babe. But I'm ready if you are. Like I said, all we need is each other. And maybe a bikini to defile, occasionally."

"You are a reprobate," Linka scolded him, but she kissed him all the same. "But you are my reprobate."

Wheeler kissed her back, letting his hand wander to her waist.

He smiled even as he moved his mouth over hers. Life was going to be good.