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Finding the one with the circuit board that didn’t short yours out.
Circuit boards feeling as right as the woman under his arm.
Wires as awesome as her hand roaming under his tank then skating fingernails up and down his back. Connections inspiring his contented sigh, as he rubbed his cheek against the top of her head. “At least you’ll have some good girl time tonight. Gem and Ronnie already seem to like Lani.”
“What’s there not to like?” She swirled fingers across his lower back, teasing at the top of his board shorts. “Besides, I’m looking forward to plying the woman with wine and hearing a few stories from the childhood annals of the Franzen family.”
He groaned. Halted. Circled her around, into a deep, wet, tangle of a kiss. Her answering moan came with her bolder touch, slipping beneath the shorts to cup his ass. He groaned in return. Fuck, this work attire was way better than BDUs, body plates, and eighty pounds of weapons and survival equipment. Thank the gods for brothers like Tait, who brought spare clothes along with a six-pack for the evening’s fun.
Borrowed clothes. Borrowed jets. Borrowed condos. Borrowed time. The wild boys of his battalion, as well as the amazing females they’d chosen for their lives, were literally giving everything they could to help him figure out this insanity, all while pretending his ass was still a cremated pile of ash at the Bellagio villas. They astounded him. Humbled him. CAme through like true brothers, without any questions. Without any doubts. With complete trust.
The same trust resonating through his woman’s deep sigh now—
Just before she moved back from him by a small step.
Just before she tried mitigating that meaning with a soft smile.
A smile never making it to her eyes.
An anomaly she obviously hoped he’d catch.
A smile kicked up his lips too. She was so easy to understand. Even easier to adore. But best of all, to really help, beyond being her bodyguard or hired gun. This was the job description he liked best of all. Being her heart’s hero too.
“Popoki.” He gave her hips a pair of gentle tugs, itching for her hands to find their way to his ass again. No dice, but that was okay too. As her palms flattened to his chest, more new details betrayed her changing mood. The hesitant twitches at the corners of her mouth. The drop of her gaze to the tips of her fingers, jabbing a little against his heartbeat. “Hey. What is it?”
She snuck her tongue across her lips. “John.”
“Tracy?”
“I’ve been thinking.”
“Gods help me.”
She didn’t take his humorous bait. Shit. Maybe the gods really did need to get their asses down here.
“When this is all over…I’m going to be out a Director of Security.”
His pulse revved but then skidded to a stop. That was usually what pulses did when the gigantic writing on the wall was revealed, right?
“Yes,” he murmured with deliberation. “I imagine you will be.”
Her kitten tongue jutted again. Enticing him, even now. Captivating him, as she visibly fidgeted for what to say next. “I was hoping—well, after everything that’s happened and how perfectly suited you are for the position—”
He cut her short with his sizable grunt. She was really going to make him read the wall out loud, wasn’t she? “You want me to consider the job.”
Her head jerked back up. No more lip wetting. She was too busy blinking, an open broadcast of bafflement. “Don’t be overly thrilled on my account.”
“No worries there.” His snark was drier than hers, but it worked for the point. The forest she was still missing through a lot of damn trees—none of which got in her way as she flattened her hands and pushed off, stumbling back by two big steps.
“What the hell? I thought you’d jump at this.”
“Jump? Like a shiny new pony?” Again, more wry control—instantly earning a new chunk of self-hate. Yeah, hating himself. Fucking flogging himself for defaulting to this sarcasm, instead of summoning the balls to order all the bullshit out of his soul’s cellar—out to where she’d see it. Know it. Understand it.
“Okay, murder the bee in that bonnet.” She tossed her head impatiently, as the wind whipped a glistening brown chunk into her face. Throughout it all, her gaze never lost its incensed fire. “Is that what you really think? That I’m offering this to you as my token stud pony? ‘Payment for services rendered’?”
He dipped his own head. Unbelievably, he didn’t have a comeback. For the first time since their hands had first clasped, this wasn’t a reaction he’d expected from her.
For this first time since they’d met…he had no damn idea what she was thinking.
