“My Rosie.” Lily smiled.

“She misses you, but she's fine.”

He watched Lily crouch, then kneel beside the bed. She kissed Rose's face, peeked down at her scar to make sure it was healing well, gently eased her daughter's left hand down from its protective spot across her collarbone. Rose slept through these ministrations, sighing contentedly as if she sensed her mother's presence through her dreams.

They walked into the living room, and Lily seemed to take in the old wicker furniture with faded chintz cushions, the marine charts of Narragansett Bay and Block Island Sound, the brass telescope pointed at the bay, and the bookshelves full of oceanographic journals and reference books. Then, as if she'd absorbed as much as she needed to know about the place that sheltered her daughter, she threw herself against Liam's chest.

He held her with his one arm. He kissed her, felt her skin moist against his. She reached up to touch his face, and he felt her fingertips light on his skin. He thought maybe she'd want to talk—he started to turn on a lamp, but she stopped him, finger on his lips.

They walked into the bedroom. Liam felt protective of Lily, and wanted to be strong—he knew how hard it had to be for her, worried about her grandmother, separated from Rose. But inside, he was shaking with excitement. Being with her made him feel seventeen.

The way she leaned against him, her breath hot on his neck, her pelvis pressing into his thighs. Her kisses were urgent, as if she couldn't wait. His heart was banging in his chest, and he tried to stay calm enough to remember to breathe. Her hands were at the buttons of his shirt, undoing them, sliding in and caressing his skin.

They had so much to say to each other, and they did it with their bodies. Words weren't enough for how he felt about Lily. They had lived a lifetime together—Rose's lifetime. Their shared dream had been to keep her alive, to give her a wonderful life. Liam's own heart was strong because of his love of Lily and Rose—he could and would do anything for them, to protect them.

That's what he wanted to tell Lily, and it's what he did tell her—with his lips, his tongue, his fingers, every bit of his body and soul. They were together tonight, and Liam knew that deep down they would never really be apart again.

“I don't want to leave,” she whispered, lying under the sheets with him as the sky began to turn from black to deep blue with dawn's approach.

“I don't want you to,” he said, kissing her hair as she lay on his shoulder.

“He hasn't called or showed up,” Lily said. “I was sure he would, the minute the news got out.”