… But she answered the phone after all.

“Put your clothes on,” Myrnin said, clipped and cold. “We have work to do. Now.”

He hung up on her. She screamed inarticulately at the phone and thought about flinging it at the wall, but it wouldn’t help, not at all, and besides, he was right. That was part of why she was so angry.

Because it wasn’t the time. Not here. Not now.

“Claire,” Shane said. He was still lying down, watching her, and there was a small, quiet smile on his lips. “Hey. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For making it … not perfect.”

She laughed. “What a romantic.”

“Trust me,” he said. “I am. That was the whole reason they could get to me, Claire. Because of how much I wanted … all that perfection. That life I never got to have when I was … growing up.”

She kissed him again, slow and warm and sweet. “I know. But don’t worry. We’re in Morganville. Nothing’s ever going to be perfect.”

The stroke of his tongue over her lips made her want to throw the phone away and crawl back into bed. “Hmm. Imperfection tastes pretty fantastic, actually. I’m getting really fond of it.”

Her phone rang again. “What?” she snapped as she answered it.

Myrnin, of course. “Are you on your way?”

“No!”

“Claire, there are things to do.”

“Here, too,” she said. “And I’m staying here, believe me.”

Myrnin was silent for a beat, and then he said, “Bob would be very disappointed in you.”

“Bob the spider?”

“He looks at you like a mother, you know. I’m surprised at your lack of work ethic. Think of the example you set for—”

She hung up on him and turned the phone on vibrate and relaxed in Shane’s arms.

“You’re not leaving,” he said. He sounded surprised. “You always leave when he calls.”

“Not now,” she said. And kissed him again, sweetly and gently.

Because they had all the time in the world.

Shane fell asleep, peacefully, spooned against her in the bed; they hadn’t actually done anything, after all. It had been enough to just lie there together, skin to skin, feeling safe, and relaxed and … quiet.

It might have been almost a normal day. Almost.

Just before he drifted off, he’d sighed on the back of her neck, and whispered, “You’re here.” That had been enough to make tears form in her eyes, and they spilled over when he said, after a few more seconds, “I love you, Claire.”

She’d been lying still now for half an hour, probably, just … savoring that. The relief. The feeling of having him back, real, alive.

Present.

Reality wasn’t something she could lock out for long, though; the phone continued to buzz, and buzz. Myrnin, the idiot, was going to run down the battery soon. She considered breaking it, but finally picked it up, thumbed it on, and whispered, “What?”

“Claire,” Myrnin said. “Claire, please. It’s important, very important. Oliver wants to talk to you as soon as possible. I’m sorry if I upset you, but—”