“Take it from someone named Daifydd,” Dai muttered to Chase. “Don’t do it.”
“Welsh i
s an unreasonable language,” Chase said airily. “Irish at least makes sense.”
“Unlike yourself.” John’s bass-deep voice had taken on its darkest, most forbidding tones, but his indigo eyes betrayed his amusement. “May I inquire why, precisely, you are objecting to my son’s name, sword-brother?”
“Not his name,” Chase said, waving a dismissive hand at the baby. “That’s perfectly fine, if a little lacking in vowels. I mean him.”
They all followed his pointing finger.
Ash looked around, then down at himself. “As far as I am aware, I already possess a name.”
“A terrible one,” Chase informed him, without the slightest hint of shame. “The ladies told us the story. Honestly. From Blaze to Ash? You might as well call yourself My-Life-Is-a-Blasted-Barren-Wasteland-of-Nothingness.”
“It probably didn’t fit on the form,” Hugh said, smirking. “Chase has a point. It is a bit angsty.”
“You’re calling someone angsty?” Ivy murmured.
“I’m aware of the irony.” Hugh saluted her with his cocktail, his mouth softening into a genuine smile. “In any case, I think that rising from the dead certainly qualifies as an occasion to take a new name. So what shall we call him now, Chase?”
Chase tapped his finger against his lips for a moment. “I suppose Fire Commander Fire doesn’t quite work?”
Rose’s snort of laughter woke the baby up. She hastily handed him back to his mother. “Not really, no.”
“And there would be certain difficulties with yelling ‘Fire!’ to get his attention,” Griff pointed out, his golden eyes gleaming with suppressed mirth. “Especially at the fire station.”
“Good point,” Chase conceded. He brightened. “Wait! I have it! The perfect thing. Something that says ‘fire’ without, you know, literally saying fire. Flames rekindled, renewed, burning brighter than ever…”
Rose took Ash’s hand. “Brace yourself,” she murmured in his ear.
Chase pointed finger-guns at him. “Sparky!”
Hugh inhaled quite a lot of his drink. John’s huge shoulders shook. Dai and Griff exchanged glances, and burst into howls of laughter.
Ash’s poker face was perfect. “Thank you for the suggestion. I shall give it the consideration it deserves.”
“Will you change your name again?” Rose asked him curiously, much later.
They were wandering back from the dining hall, taking a scenic route along the beach. The gleaming white sands were deserted, most of the resort guests still enjoying the sumptuous dessert buffet. To their left, the sun was just touching the edge of the sea, filling the sky with soft shades of gold and orange.
His hand tightened a little on hers. “In truth, I was thinking of it. With your permission.”
“Why would you need that?” She leaned her head against his shoulder, enjoying his warmth in the rapidly cooling evening. “Unless you’re actually contemplating Sparky, in which case I utterly forbid it. There’s a limit to what I’m willing to scream in the throes of passion.”
His lips curved. He’d smiled more in the past few hours than he had in the previous year. She still treasured every one. She always would.
“Then I shall have no choice but to attempt to reduce you to wordlessness,” he teased.
From the way his dark eyes heated, it wasn’t entirely a joke. Her body kindled under his intent, hungry regard. She stopped, pulling him down for a long, deep kiss, his hands sliding around her hips.
“Tempting,” she murmured against his mouth. “But you don’t need to saddle yourself with a terrible name for that. So will you be Blaze again?”
He drew back a little, shaking his head. “Corbin named me that. Ash at least I picked for myself. And over the past ten years…” His fingers traced her lips. “I named myself in bitterness. But every time you said my name, it became a little sweeter. No. I will stay Ash. But I thought I might take a surname at last.”
“Now you had really better pick something good,” Rose warned.
His hand cupped her cheek. “I was thinking…Swanmay. If you will have me.”