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“You are making me forget I could fall to my death. Thank you.” “Anytime.” He closed one eye for a second. “On second thought, let’s keep it to this one time.”
“Hero fails to save the ambassador’s daughter after she triggers his awkward sense of humor with her own, sending them crashing through the floor.” “My sense of humor is perfectly on point.” He fake-grunted. “Speak for yourself, kid.”
“About to become your second-favorite guy, because my teammate is about to extract us, and he’ll be your new hero.”
“I’ll be heading home. Good to see you again, Diana. My door is always open to you in San Francisco if you ever need anything.” “Put a lock on your door. Don’t let so many people in,” I said, knowing he’d read between the lines to never bother her again.
“I’m overstepping. Sorry, Dom—” She cut herself off, eyes lifting to the ceiling, and I followed her gaze to the chandelier overhead. “Something interesting up there?” I asked.
When she redirected her attention to the ceiling, I couldn’t help but murmur, “Are we looking for that writing again?”
I was the one searching the ceiling for writing. For a fucking sign. A clue what to do. “Find anything there this time? I mean, if we keep looking, just maybe . . .”
“Brought our daughter a present.” He pointed to the wrapped box on the table. “She hates jewelry as much as you hate monogamy,”
“There’s nothing left of her now,” I said under my breath, the words slipping out before I could stop them. “You have her money.” “Okay, so maybe you do want to die today.” I cracked my neck, then began working my sleeves to the elbows.
“I need air, if you’ll excuse me.” Jack smirked. “We’re outside.” I tipped my head toward the street. “Other air,”
“Diana didn’t just work for Rebecca’s old company. She knew Rebecca. Came to the house for a Christmas party. And to the funeral. Rebecca even babysat her when she was a kid. Crazy, right?” I did my best to play off my words as no big deal. He cocked a brow. “You’re just telling me this?” “Wasn’t relevant before.” A smirk came and went. “But it is now?”
“Talented dog.” “He’s a little cocky. Don’t let him hear you say that.”
“No, everything’s fine.” “Thank God you’re not a woman. When Savanna uses that word, I know I’m screwed.”
“Where do you want me?” His eyes widened ever so slightly as his gaze shot to the bed, jaw going tight, only for his eyes to land back on me as his boot hit the floor with a thud.
“Bed,” I grunted. “Now.” “You’re better at giving commands than I am, I’ll give you that.”
“Right, this traitor is the one fucking my dad.” Carter’s eyes widened, his shock either at my use of the F bomb, or from the fact I’d alluded to that insider traitor hooking up with my dad. “Sorry, that was all me there despite Diana being the one to talk,” Oliver said, quickly coming to my defense.
“I should probably not have an erection on the call with POTUS,” I said after groaning from the loss of her mouth.
Diana had just been trying to walk me off the cliff of being a psychopath, and there was Jack telling her what a great killer I was. I mean, he wasn’t wrong.
Diana did a three-sixty spin. All that was missing from her twirl was a skirt to hold on to. Or our daughter’s little palm tucked inside hers to share the view.
“Stay off ladders. And don’t trip over any paint cans. Or inhale paint fumes. Or—” “Easy there, Dad,” Mya said while peering back at me over her shoulder. “She’s a scientist, and I’m, well, whatever I am now. We’re good, don’t worry.” Oliver jerked his thumb toward them. “Want me to follow them?” “Not on your life, Lucas.”
“Mya and Oliver are at a pharmacy now. Oliver needed new supplies for the medkit and his shoulder injury, and Mya was worried he’d get lost out there on his own.” Easton rolled his eyes. “Those two fucking yet?”
“Anything else?” He smirked. “Anxious to get to her, huh?” “I’ll take that as a no, boss, there’s nothing else.”
“I never cheated, no. Nothing happened with Diana before this week, either.” “So, something happened on the jet? I swear that bedroom needs a cigarette after all it’s witnessed in the last two years.”
“Yeah, well, just because I need the old you back for this mission, doesn’t mean your persona as an intimidating motherfucker everyone fears has to change. And no one, and I mean no one, would touch that man’s girl.”
When Mya and I couldn’t find a room with two beds earlier, she’d said, “Carter will want to sleep with you tonight, anyway. You two should have the biggest room and also be far away from everyone.”
“Uh-oh, is grouchy Carter back?” She smirked. “Such an old-man thing to say, by the way.” “Do I need to remind you I’ll be forty-six next June?” I did the math. With her birthday in January, that made me eleven and a half years older than her. Screw the age gap. “I’m as old as I am stubborn, I suppose.” “By those calculations, you’re ancient, then.”
“Okay,” she said softly. “So, who’s on my team?” “Aside from Natasha, Gwen, Sydney, and Mya,” I started, “there’s Harper Brooks. She was with the CIA, but now she works with one of the President’s SEAL Teams, and she’s married to one of the Teamguys. And then there’s Jessica. She co-runs Bravo with her brother. Another genius, and she’s also married to—” “One of the Teamguys?” She smiled. “Yeah, her brother’s best friend.” “Ah, bet he loved that.”
“Well, please tell Carter I would’ve thought he’d know me better than to worry I’d go hungry. I’m a stress eater.” That was something Carter would’ve known since he’d been watching me in Amsterdam. He clearly just enjoyed being bossy. “Orders are orders, ma’am,” had been Oliver’s response. “Afraid to get on his bad side, huh?” “Absolutely,” he’d returned with a laugh.
Hot, bothered, and unsure how in the world I’d come down from this high without an orgasm, I picked up my phone to confirm if he’d deleted my selfies with Dallas. My hand slipped to my mouth when I realized he hadn’t erased them from the phone. No, instead, he’d texted himself every single one.
“If the news wasn’t so horrible, watching you write on my whiteboard would probably be turning me on right now.” “I’ll be sure to remember that for later.”
Finally breaking the staring contest we had going on, he asked, “How are we going to do this, Dominick?” “Hell, I was hoping you’d tell me.” I spat out more blood and grinned.
“We’ll give you two some space. Come on, boy, want a snack?” “Are you talking to me or the dog?” Oliver smirked, and Mya swatted his arm.
