Page 76 of Business vs. Pleasure

His asshole husband tsked and rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t an eight-inch cut.” He gestured at his chest. “It was a five-inch cut, plus a three-inch one. And they probably won’t even scar because, like I said, she did a phenomenal job. This place is getting a five-star review, I’m telling you.”

Ricardo closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose, dizzy with a weird mix of irritation and relief. On one hand, August was being an annoying gremlin. On the other, if he was being an annoying gremlin, that meant the danger had passed.

They were safe. Somehow, they’d made it through, and they were both safe.

Eyes still closed, he felt around for August’s hand, and when he found it, he gripped it as tight as his exhausted muscles allowed. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” August asked, suddenly serious. “For what?”

Ricardo swallowed. Then he forced his eyes open and met August’s. “We should have stayed retired. I could have gotten you killed or arrested just because I was fucking bored.”

August’s smile was surprisingly sweet, and he ran his thumb along Ricardo’s. “I don’t know. I was mad at first, but then it was like… this is who we are. It’s who we’ve been since day one. Stepping back into that…” His lips quirked as he half-shrugged. “It kind of felt like being me again. Being us the way we were in the beginning.” He paused, and his expression darkened. “Right up until I almost lost you. That…” Shaking his head, he whispered, “That’s the part I can’t handle.”

“I know.” Ricardo moistened his dry lips. “I’m sorry about that.”

August shook his head again but didn’t argue. Maybe he didn’t know what to say. Maybe there was nothing to be said.

Ricardo squeezed his hand weakly. “We should’ve stayed on Malta. We never did figure out who got fried by the security system.”

“Oh, that?” August waved his free hand. “Yeah, I forwarded the video to Karmena and asked her to do some digging on the Interpol side of things. It turns out someone found out I got my hands on the Iberian Puffin, and they wanted to relieve me of it.” He scoffed. “Pfft. As if. That little bird is mine.”

Ricardo laughed, which hurt like hell with broken ribs but still felt good in its own way. Like they were getting back to normal, even if “normal” apparently meant living in a Maltese fortress and fending off marauders who wanted to steal that stupid little sculpture.

Which, okay, yeah, now that he thought about it, that was definitely their flavor of normal.

“So what happens next?” August asked. “Do we go back into retirement? Or do we…” He chewed his lip.

Ricardo thought about it, which was challenging. The drugs had ebbed enough that he was lucid, but his thoughts were still soupy and hard to hold on to. Eventually, he managed, “NightRaven fucked up our ratings. We’re still number one and number two, but I don’t like what he did to our numbers.” He was also annoyed that his one insider at RateYourHit wouldn’t (and allegedly couldn’t) do any meaningful digging into it; that fucker better hope Ricardo never found out he could’ve fixed it with a few keystrokes. “I want my rating back, damn it.”

August’s eyebrow climbed. “So… you want to keep working? To recover our ratings to their former glory?”

Ricardo genuinely couldn’t tell if August would be furious at him for suggesting they come fully out of retirement, or if he was salivating for the opportunity. And if he’d learned anything from their relationship and marriage, it was that he was better off communicating and working it out from there than trying to keep something out of August’s sight.

So, he went with the honest response: “I don’t think I’m as ready to retire as I thought I was.”

August pursed his lips, and it took Ricardo a moment to realize he was fighting a grin. “Heidi will be thrilled, won’t she?”

“She will.” Ricardo studied him. “Does that mean you’re on board?”

“Are you kidding?” August let go of a relaxed, carefree laugh that told Ricardo they really were out of danger now. “I forgot how much I loved destroying the world’s worst people. And, I mean, I won’t say no to unfucking what NightChicken did to our reputation.” He paused. “Plus there’s no way he did it alone. Someone either gave him access to the back end of RateYourHit, or they were fucking with things on his behalf.” Narrowing his eyes, he added, “I wouldn’t mind finding and taking care of whatever little minion was doing that asshole’s bidding.”

Ricardo thought about it. “We could have Heidi look into it. She knows people.”

August nodded. Then he brightened, grinning maniacally. “And then when she finds out who’s behind it, she’ll give us first dibs at killing the fucker!”

Ricardo wished he had the capacity to laugh for real. He had to settle for a quiet huff, and he squeezed August’s hand. “Looks like we’re back in business, then. Well, when I’m recovered.”

August seemed to think about that. “You’ve got a couple of months before those ribs heal.” Yet again, he was fighting a grin. “I could take a few jobs during that time, and maybe even pass you on RateYourHit!”

“Oh, fuck you.” Ricardo rolled his eyes.

August cackled. Then he leaned over Ricardo and kissed him lightly.

Knowing him, he probably would try for a few jobs on his own just to be a competitive butthole.

Fine. There was a reason Ricardo had been the highest rated assassin on that site for years. If he had to take a few solo jobs to keep himself above August, that was what he would do.

Retirement would have to wait.