Page 2
“I figured I’d take you on a walk after dinner.” He slid her laptop into its case and passed it over. She tucked the device into her tote. He propped on the table, letting his gaze trace over her. “Thought we’d check out the hotel first.”
Her lips curled, the little smile that said she knew what he was up to, the one that made him want to kiss her. “You mean our generic hotel room with a view of the parking lot.”
He curved his hands around the edge of the table. “Not the view I’m wanting to show you.”
She laughed, a small puff of joy, and glanced away, lashes veiling her eyes. “I suppose you’re planning to show me a good time.”
“I’m planning to show you the best time, Falconetti.” Levering off the table, he reached for her tote. “So good it’s awe-inspiring.”
“Well.” Flicking a glance up at him, she moved past him toward the aisle and the exit. With that look, anticipation licked at his belly, like always. “A girl can’t say no to that. Come on, Calvert, and let’s find that good time.”
“You look well tousled.” On his back, with Caitlin lying prone beside him, Tick stroked a knuckle down the bare line of her spine. Satisfaction thrummed in him, a heavy drag of pleasure low in his gut, every muscle as warm and loose as pulled taffy.
“Oh, so that’s your word for it now?” Eyes closed, her cheek resting on her folded arms, ruffled hair half covering her face, she smiled.
“Might work, Falconetti.” His chest taut with love and affection, he rolled to his side. Tucking her hair behind her ear so he could see her face, he nuzzled her cheek. “You know, a spur of the minute text asking if you need me to tousle you.”
Her smile widened.
“What’s ‘tousle me’ in Italian?” he murmured next to her ear. Her shiver vibrated through him.
“Scompigliami.” The breathless quality of her voice made him smile. He liked taking her breath after all this time.
“Doesn’t quite have the ring fottimi has to it.” He breathed the word across that sensitive spot beneath her earlobe and chuckled when a shudder moved over her.
On a deep sigh, she rolled to face him, propping on an elbow. She traced a finger along his jaw, his stubble rasping. “How does that new supervisory title feel?”
He curved a hand over her hip. “Like throwing a really solid touchdown.”
“It’s always football with you,” she murmured, tracing the line of his throat. “I suppose you think about this role as being a quarterback.”
“Of course.” Finding the dimple at the base of her spine, he circled a caress there. “Graham tells me Conroe is interested in me for their resident agent in charge when the current agent retires in a couple of years.”
“That would be a good fit for you.”
“Forty-minute commute one way.”
“Mmm.” She ran a teasing fingertip along his collarbone. “Make that an hour with traffic.”
Spreading his hand across the small of her back, he nudged her closer, and she tucked a thigh between his. “The Albany office already called me before they posted their opening.”
“Really.” One of her brows lifted. “And you said . . .?”
The attempt at insouciance didn’t fool him for a second. “That I was very satisfied working out of the Houston office.”
“Are you?” Her face smoothed into solemn lines, and sure as hell she was biting the inside of her lip, where a tiny ridge of scar tissue remained, from a long-ago nightmare. “I know it’s home.”
“You and my girls are home.” He touched his thumb to her bottom lip, halting the worrying. “You know that.”
She rested her palm over his heart, cupping his heartbeat. Her brows drawn together, she dropped her gaze to her fingers, spread on his skin. He swallowed a sigh.
“Cait.” With his index finger, he tipped her chin up so their eyes met. “I am fine with Houston. I always have been. We both know I cannot take my Woodfield girls and bury them in the back of beyond.”
“Tick.” She lifted her chin free of his touch. “We’d be—”
“No.” Threading his fingers through her hair, he shook his head. “Chandler-Haynes is a great school, but Eleanor wouldn’t get what she needed. Plus we’d never be able to let her date because I know all those boys’ families and—”
“Don’t make light of it.” A hint of irritation sharpened her tone.
