“Good morning,” Naomi crooned from behind me. She sat up and stretched, her hair in rats, her skin already darker from the desert sun. In the morning light, at home and away from the Springs, she looked more beautiful than I’d ever seen her. “I called Jenn and let her know you were good. I had to make up a story. I’m sorry I had to lie to her.”

“It’s not like you could tell her the truth. She probably wouldn’t have believed you anyway. Is she okay?”

“She is now. How are you feeling?” Naomi asked, sitting on her knees.

“Good,” I said, unable to stop staring at her bare knees and thighs. “Better every passing hour.”

She tensed. “Has anyone heard from Trex?”

I gestured outside. “They got here at five a.m. They’re staying in the cabin next door.”

“All of them?” she asked.

“All of them.”

She covered her face with her hands, then climbed off the bed and strolled over to me. She wrapped her tone arms around my middle, and her lips touched my neck.

“You look amazing in my shirt. I’m still amazed you got Watts to send my things here on time.”

She smiled sleepily. “I am known to push men to be their best selves.” She touched my cheek. “You look like you’re feeling so much better.” She closed her eyes and let her head fall back, taking in a deep breath. “It doesn’t seem real. We’re going to be okay.”

I wrapped my arms over hers, pulling her tighter against me. “I am. I am better. Does that mean I have something to look forward to tonight?”

As I nuzzled her neck, she giggled. She was a different woman behind the safety of the Recon’s fences. It didn’t take me long to realize why.

“All right,” Vincent said in his low, gruff voice. He stepped onto our wooden porch, his reddish-brown handlebar mustache bordering the large cigar in his mouth. He clamped the unlit tobacco in his teeth. “It’s too early for that shit.”

Naomi wasn’t tense in the presence of her father, instead relaxing against my chest and raking her hair back with her fingers.

“How’s he feeling?” Vincent asked.

“Dad. Ask him, he’s right here,” Naomi said.

Vincent hesitated, but when he decided to address me, he looked me in the eyes. “Any improvement, Lund?”

“You can just call me Zeke. Everyone else does,” I said.

Vincent eyed me, waiting for the response to his question.

Naomi giggled. “No one has a first name here except him. Even Foley.” She looked at her dad for validation.

Vincent gave her a courtesy nod.

“Foley is…?” I asked.

“The HMFIC,” Vincent said.