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Mission Delivery(12)

By:Jessie Lane


    Watching Belle’s best friend, I waited for an answer.

    She simply shrugged. “Seth managed to get a message to me. Because Belle took my last name when she went into hiding, I was able to convince my Commanding Officer she was my sister. You’d be amazed what pulling some favors and a little sweet talking can get you, including a seventy-two hour holiday to go see your sister who is having a baby.”

    Now, why didn’t I believe that explanation? Perhaps because it was a crock of shit. However, if Teagan was as deep into military subterfuge as I was starting to believe she was, there was no way I was going to learn the truth from her.

    Looking around the room, Teagan asked “Where’s Seth?”

    “Jenkins took him home to get some rest.”

    Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “Jenkins?”

    I nodded, trying to hide my annoyance, but I obviously didn’t do a good enough job, because Teagan smirked at me.

    Then she walked over to the side of my fiancée’s bed and smoothed the hair out of Belle’s face. With that loving caress, it was easy to see the bond that had been forged between the women when they were children still thrived just as strongly today.

    “How are they doing?” Teagan murmured.

    “They’re doing great. Your goddaughter here decided she didn’t want to wait for her due date, so she somehow poked a hole in her amniotic sac. Belle woke up and noticed she was leaking. Luckily, I got here in time for the birth. For a while there, I was worried I wouldn’t.”

    “It had to be hell on you.”

    Confused, I asked, “The delivery? Well, there was this one moment where Belle went a little crazy, and the nurse asked me if we needed an exorcist …”

    Teagan snorted and rolled her eyes. “No, dummy. I meant being worried about missing your daughter’s birth when you had already missed your son’s. That must have been hard on you, Bobby. I’m glad you made it in time.”

    Was Teagan Roberts being genuinely nice to me?

    That couldn’t be. The woman had made it as clear as day from the moment I had reconnected with Belle in Texas that she hated my guts. She also had gone out of her way to insult me every chance she got.

    So … if Teagan was being nice to me … then that meant…

    I got up out of my chair, keeping the tiny bundle of my daughter secured in my arms as I stalked over to the window and looked out, inspecting the city and sky.

    “What are you doing, Baker?” Teagan huffed.

    “Looking for the end of the world. If you’re being nice to me, it has to mean we’re all about to go up in a poof of smoke. What is it? An asteroid? Nuclear warhead? Aliens?” I finally looked back at the woman standing on the other side of the room to find her glaring at me.

    “You jackass.”

    “There’s the Teagan we all know and love. Nice to have you back,” I mocked halfheartedly.

    She looked up to the ceiling as if she was praying for patience. “Of all the men in the world, my best friend had to choose you.”

    Nodding my head, I agreed. “She chose me.” Then I braced for it: the barb, the insult. The woman always had some shit to sling my way.

    “I’m glad,” was her soft reply.

    I didn’t know what to do with this nice version of Teagan. It was throwing me off my game.

    Instead of commenting on her weird behavior, I walked over and placed Willow into her arms. “Meet your namesake, Roberts.”

    Teagan’s face turned to one of abject horror. “You didn’t name her Teagan, did you? My God, people will call her T2 if they find out she’s named after me!”

    I snorted a laugh. “We named her Willow, you nut job.”

    Teagan beamed down at the tiny girl sleeping in her arms. “She looks just like Belle. Thank God. If I had to hear her moan and groan one more time about Seth being a mini-you, I was going to sew her lips shut.”

    “Yeah, Belle finally has a mini-me.” Going quiet, I watched my woman’s best friend stare lovingly at my daughter.

    Teagan was an enigma. I might never figure her out. However, now that I was getting a good look at her face, I started to worry. Back in Texas, I had noted signs of weariness, indications that she might be working herself into the ground. She didn’t look any better now.