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“I’m sorry, buddy… I don’t speak much Greek.”
Mihalis giggled. “You like waves?”
Mick nodded. “Like for surfing? Sure. Do you?”
The boy went off on another torrent of Greek that had Mick looking at him helplessly.
“He wants to know if you can teach him to surf,” Lena called back to him. “I told him he had to wait another year so he’s going over my head, so to speak.”
Mick grinned and got down on his haunches to reply. “As soon as Aunt Lena says it’s okay, we’ll go surfing. Deal?”
In perfect English, Mihalis replied, “Deal.”
9
Hot and sunburnt, they were all exhausted when they got back to the house. They made it an early night, showering and going to bed by 9:00. Mick and Raegan slept in the following morning, but Mihalis was up at 7:00, waking Lena up too. They padded into the kitchen to make him breakfast and she hummed to herself, realizing just how easy and normal it was to have Mihalis with her. They’d always had a special bond, and it was particularly obvious now that it was just the two of them.
She’d just put a plate of eggs in front of him with a slice of bread and a glass of milk when the doorbell rang. Frowning, she wiped her hands on a towel and headed in that direction. Hoping it was the arson investigator finally bringing news, she opened the door without looking first. The men who stood there were strangers, with various shades of gray hair, wearing business suits in weather that had to be 90 degrees. She blinked for a moment.
“Can I help you?” she asked in Greek.
The two men glanced at each other before speaking in slowly enunciated English. “We’re looking for Michael Laughlin. Is this the right house?”
“Oh, yes.” Lena switched to English. “May I give him your names?”
“Pat Rosenthal and Hank Dawson.”
Lena blinked. Holy shit, this was Mick’s boss and his mentor. She forced a smile and opened the door wide. “Please come in! I’ll go get Mick.” She nearly ran to Mick’s room, throwing open the door without knocking. “Mick! Mick, your—” Her voice faded as she took in his long, lean and very naked body. He was sprawled across the bed, taking up most of it, without a stitch of clothing. His thick, perfectly formed erection rested on his stomach and she couldn’t help but stare.
“Nothin’ you haven’t seen before,” he drawled in a raspy voice.
“I, er, um…” Her face turned red.
“Is there a reason you came barging in here without knocking?” he asked, lazily sitting up.
She snapped back to the issue at hand. “Your bosses are here,” she hissed under her breath, turning her back. “Mr. Dawson and Mr. Rosenthal!”
“What?!” Mick was up off the bed in a shot, yanking on his boxers. “Here? In Santorini?”
“In the living room!”
“Jesus.”
He hurried to the bathroom while Lena ran up to her own room to put on capris and a more appropriate top. She figured Mick hadn’t had any idea they were coming and that Loren undoubtedly had kept that news to himself. She was annoyed on Mick’s behalf and it occurred to her they would need to explain Mihalis’ presence, something she wasn’t sure how to handle.
Putting her hair up in a neat but loose chignon, she was just heading down the stairs as Mick came out of his room. Their eyes met and she nodded briefly.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I’ll disappear with Mihalis.”
“I think it’s too late,” he whispered back as Mihalis’ infectious laughter wafted through the house.
They quickly walked into the living room and had to pause to take in the scene before them. Both men had removed their jackets and were sitting on the couch. Mihalis had opted to extend a breakfast invitation to the men and had gotten them coffee cups, small plates and napkins, placing them on the coffee table in front of them. He’d brought out the jug of milk and poured some for each, as well as a loaf of tsoureki, a Greek Easter bread flavored with a rare spice called mastika, or gum mastic. It was a unique spice that Mick and Raegan had immediately fallen in love with and Lena had bought a loaf for them to have with coffee in the morning.
The only thing missing was a knife and Lena didn’t know whether to be horrified he’d done all of this on his own or proud at how smart and independent he was.
“Mick, my boy!” Hank stood up and shook Mick’s hand. “This is quite the little helper you have here—he’s been working hard to make us feel at home.”
“I’m so sorry,” Lena spoke hurriedly. “We weren’t expecting company and I’d just made him breakfast. I’ll take him out—”
