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He loved that about her. She was always ready to play or get down and dirty.
“We’ll discuss it,” he grunted. He’d tease her until she begged to suck his cock. That was special to him.
He kept his hand at her back as they moved to the rough boards of the porch. He loved touching her. He touched her every chance he had, because he could, because she was his.
Jordan had made it easy on him. And whoever the hell backed the Elite Ops seemingly hadn’t even blinked at the situation. Noah was on backup on the few missions they had gone out on in recent months. They were still waiting for information to see where the fallout on the militia had gone. But even then, Noah would pull back. The name Malone might be dead to him, but he was a husband, a father, and he wasn’t risking that again. Not like he had before. Another of Sabella’s rules.
His job wasn’t low risk, but it was lower than it could have been. And maybe he should have read the whole Elite Ops contract. There was no resignation, there was no opting out, but there was a stated waiver once the operative reached what they considered noncombatant age or was deemed unable to effectively complete or conduct missions. They were then moved to backup or technical ops.
Elite Ops would always own whatever job he did, but they didn’t own his soul. Sabella owned his soul.
Grandpop was waiting. The door opened and they stepped into the small living room. Grant was sitting on the couch. Jordan and Rory in chairs that faced it. There were two more chairs to the side that Noah knew had been pulled from the bedrooms.
Grant sat with his head down, his hands clasped between his knees. Jordan’s expression was somber, Rory’s eyes gleamed with fury.
“What’s up, Grandpop?” Sabella asked, kissing the old man’s cheek as Noah moved in behind her.
Grandpop held Noah’s gaze. Noah had gone to him the day after he returned to his wife. They’d held each other as Grandpop cried, slapped his shoulder, and then they had walked to the grave and Noah had seen the truth there.
The gravestone had simply said “Nathan.” Nothing more. Grandpop had never believed he was dead.
“Grant has something to tell his son.”
Noah’s gaze moved to Rory.
Grant lifted his head as Noah glanced at him, and a shock of disbelief filled him. Tears filled Grant’s eyes, and knowledge. He knew. The same expression Grant had had the day Noah had held him pinned to the cooler in the convenience store. Grant Malone had known who he was.
“Who told?” he growled.
“I knew,” Grant whispered. “I knew the minute I saw you.” He shook his head and a tear slipped free. “I knew when Dad didn’t have your stone engraved. I knew when I heard Sabella had a lover.” He shook his head. “I knew.”
“Doesn’t change anything.” He held Sabella to him, trying to harden himself. Trying to tell him it didn’t matter.
Grant shook his head. “It has to matter.” He looked at Sabella’s small abdomen and another tear slipped. “It has to matter, Noah.”
He lifted his eyes back to Noah. “Thirty-five years ago, I married a woman I didn’t love. She married me for the money I could bring to the ranch. You know that. I married her because I wanted to build a legacy for the sons I intended to have. I got the ranch, but by the time my first son came, I knew the danger we all faced.”
Nathan knew about the loveless marriage. Before Tammy Malone’s death, she hadn’t exactly been silent about the fact that she only married an “Irish cur,” as she called him, to save the ranch her father was losing.
“We had you,” Grant whispered. “The militia started targeting me then, Noah. I was Irish. They didn’t want me here, but they couldn?
?t kill me either. Killing me would break the agreement I had with Tammy’s father. And he was one of them. But they could hurt you. Dad.” He looked at Rory. “My other son.”
Noah stilled.
“I made sure they knew I didn’t have anything that they could destroy me with.” He swallowed tightly. “Dad knew.” He nodded to Grandpop. “We both made sure you and Rory, and Belle, were protected. You know he did, Noah.”
“You took everything he had!” Noah snarled. “Don’t lie to me now.”
“No.” Grant shook his graying head. “We made it look that way. We let everyone believe that.” He swallowed tightly. “Rory’s mother died because they thought, rightfully, that she mattered to me. I had to pretend she didn’t.” He shook his head. “Even your mother didn’t know because she was best friends with some of their wives and I couldn’t risk my son. Neither of my sons.” He swallowed tightly. “I let them think I didn’t care. I let them think there was no way to hurt me, and I skated by. I stayed quiet. I ran my ranch and looked for ways to hurt them that wouldn’t come back on me.” He rubbed at his face with his hands. “I sent pictures of the hunts to the FBI. And those agents died. Finally, I went to Jordan.”
Noah turned to his uncle. Jordan nodded slowly. “This is why we brought together a team no one could tie to an agency. We had more than four dead agents. There have been six total. Every time we sent someone they were identified. We couldn’t figure out how. Until Sienna.”
Because she had hacked her husband’s computer files. Because she knew how to watch, how to listen, and how to deceive.
“Between her and the federal marshal and judge, no agency could get anyone in close enough for proof.”
“That was eight years ago. You were engaged to Belle,” Grant whispered. “I did my best, Noah, to protect her. Grandpop would make the mortgage payments when we had to do something. He would let his buddies know I was being a bastard that refused to help. It nearly broke him.”
