Epilogue
A few months later…
Thierry nuzzled his ear, and Nate made a face.
“You two are disgusting.”
“We’re in love,” Thierry said in Dmitri’s ear, and his grin spread to Dmitri’s own lips.
“Yech. Stop. For real. Mac made me pay for this beer. I want to keep it down.”
“He made you pay?” Thierry said, surprised. “Don’t you think it’s time—”
Dmitri yanked him into a kiss. “Don’t,” he murmured, chuckling.
“Right,” Thierry whispered.
Nate groaned. “Gross. I never thought I’d say this, D, but I liked you better when you were groping people. This…” He waved a hand at Dmitri’s apparently bewildering state. “I don’t even know what to do with this.”
“Too late now,” Dmitri said and grinned at the way Nate scowled. He turned to Thierry. “So. Something’s obviously up. What is it?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Really. That’s why we’re at Mac’s at three in the afternoon?”
“I craved a stout.”
“You’ve hardly touched it.”
Thierry took a long swig. “I have, see? Almost gone.” He drained it, smacking his lips.
“Uh-huh. Not suspicious at all.”
Thierry leaned around him. “How’s the fishing these days, Nathan?”
Nate squinted at him. “Fine.”
“Looking forward to the season, now that the river’s thawed?”
Nate relaxed. “Yeah. Looks like it might be a good spring. Lots of melt, so the rivers will be running good. The tides, though. Almanac says they’re gonna be wonky.”
“Wonky?” Thierry asked.
“Strange,” Dmitri told him. “Super tides?” he asked Nate.
“Possibly,” the otter said, tapping the rim of his glass. “We’ll see. They don’t usually come upriver as far as here, but I’ve never seen a super. I might need to reinforce my place.”
“You live on… stilts?” Thierry asked.
“Posts, yeah.”
“I can help with that,” Thierry said.
“Yeah?” Nate looked from him to Dmitri and back. “Thanks. That’d be great. I’ll let you know. Um…” His eyes flickered back over Dmitri’s shoulder, and he felt Thierry turn behind him.
“What?” Dmitri asked and turned toward the door.
His father stood just inside it, blinking, still blinded from being outside.
“Quel surprise,” Thierry drawled.
Dmitri gaped at him. “You’re kidding.”
“Turnabout’s fair game.”
“Fair play,” said Nate, ever helpful.
Dmitri turned on him. “Were you in on this?”
“On a chance to meet your dad? Uh, yeah. And Thierry said he likes to fish, so I figured I’d chat him up.”
“Well, good luck,” Dmitri muttered. “He lives alone for a reason.”
“So did you, and someone thinks you’re not a total dweeb.” Nate squinted at Thierry. “Mysteriously.”
Dmitri rose and crossed the room. “Dad. Hey.”
His father turned at his voice and nodded. “Dmitri.”
As warm as ever. Wonderful. “Uh, come have a seat.”
Lex Sernov frowned at the bar. “They got food here?”
“Yeah. Good beer too.”
His father waved that aside. “Can’t do beer. Gives me gas.”
Fantastic.
Thierry had stood from his bar stool and held out his hand to Dmitri’s father. “Alexei.”
“Thierry?” his dad asked.
Thierry nodded, and to Dmitri’s shock, his father wrapped Thierry up in a bear hug, slapping him hard on the back. Thierry winked at Dmitri over the man’s shoulder. When his dad pulled away, he clapped Thierry on the arm. “How you been?”
“How you been?” Dmitri asked, unbelieving.
His dad twisted around and jabbed a thumb at Thierry. “This one calls me.” He smacked Thierry’s chest with the back of his hand and gestured to Dmitri. “Says he’s a writer,” he told Thierry in a conspiratorial tone. “But no letters, no postcards. Nothing. His own flesh and blood.”
Thierry tsked at him. “Shameful.”
“Don’t get me started on phone calls.” His dad turned to Nate. “Landry?”
Nate grinned and stuck out his hand. “Yes, sir.”
His dad gave Dmitri a look. “Sir.”
Nate gave him a shit-eating grin, then started telling Dmitri’s dad about the fishing prospects. It didn’t sound like the first conversation they’d had.
He turned on Thierry. “Incredible.”
“I know,” Thierry said, preening. “I’m quite something.”
“Why?”
“He’s your father,” Thierry whispered.
“So?”
“A man needs his father.”
“And what about yours?”
Thierry glanced away. “That’s different.”
It was, but this was conspiracy. “How long?”
Thierry glanced toward Dmitri’s dad, intent on asking him, then frowned. Dmitri turned to find Nate staring at Lex.
“What?” Dmitri asked.
His dad turned to him. “I was telling Nate here about this kid I met on the ferry up. Nice guy. Rescues people.”
Light flashed into the dim space of the bar as the front door opened. Nate’s gaze slid toward it, and then all the blood drained from his face. “Shit,” he breathed.
They turned as one toward the man who had stepped inside. Tall black guy. Fit, clean-cut. Everything in his bearing said precision. He scanned the room. When his eyes locked onto Nate, the river guide stood abruptly. “I gotta go.” He hurried toward the door.
The stranger tried to catch his arm— “Hey”— but Nate threw it off.
“Not now. Not yet,” he said. He sounded desperate. He bolted out the door.
“That’s him,” Dmitri’s father said.
Mac rounded the bar, stood with his fist on his hips, waiting for the stranger to turn around. When he did, Mac growled, “You know Nate?”
The guy frowned. “Nate?”
Mac gestured toward the door. “The guy who just freaked out.”
“You mean Charlie?”
Mac shifted on his feet, glanced at Dmitri. “Charlie?”
The stranger looked at the others in the place. Nodded to Dmitri’s dad, then turned back to Mac. “Can you tell me where he lives?”
“Not ’til you tell me who the hell you are.”
The guy drew himself up. “Lieutenant Nathan Landry, United States Coast Guard. I’m afraid I bring bad news.”
Mac looked at him, then turned to Thierry and shook his head. “I liked your entrance better.”
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