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He stopped Finley with a kiss. “Doesn’t matter.”
Finley sighed and shook his head. “You can’t give me that kind of power.”
Kieran trailed a finger across his jawline and over his lips. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do. You make me want to believe, and someday I will.”
Finley took a shaky breath and smiled. “Believe in what?” he pressed.
Kieran’s heart raced as he decided how honest to be. “Myself for starters. I want to see the version of me that you see. But that’s not all,” he said, using an infomercial voice to inject humor into the conversation to ease the tightness gathering in his chest. Would expressing his thoughts and feelings ever come easy? Easier at least? He sure hoped like hell it would because Finley deserved the best version of him. Kieran deserved the best version of himself. “You make me want to believe that faith, hope, and joy really exist and that they’re not just pretty words embroidered on bathroom towels. You make me want to believe the universe not only has room for someone like me but wants me too.” As Kieran spoke, the knot in his chest loosened in places his humor hadn’t reached. “You make me want to believe that anything is possible, and it’s the most wonderful gift I’ve ever received.” Finley’s eyes shimmered with gathering moisture, and Kieran acted quickly before those tears became his undoing. “And if you call within the next thirty minutes—”
Finley cut him off with a hard, quick kiss. Then he shook his head and sighed. “Still have so many questions, but that gorgeous declaration will more than do for now.”
After another kiss, Finley dressed and they brushed their teeth. Kieran replenished Little Mama’s food and water, then they headed to the big ranch house to meet with Cash.
Harry looked up from the kitchen island and volleyed her gaze between them. She offered a tenuous smile and said, “Cash is waiting for you both in his office.” Her gaze landed on Finley and held. “Perhaps you can keep me company afterward and help me prepare breakfast.”
Kieran’s heart sped up as he recalled Harry’s attempt to fix Finley up with Michael.
“I don’t need my big sister to—”
Harry held up a hand. “I owe you both an apology.”
Kieran smiled while Finley bristled. “I would love to learn how you make the Belgian waffles he hasn’t stopped talking about since Cash called. Served golden brown. Crispy on the outside but light and airy on the inside. Pretty sure I know how everyone on the ranch tops theirs too.” Finley nudged him with his elbow and Kieran smiled at him. “It’s cute.”
“Ugh,” Finley growled. He headed toward Cash’s office without waiting to see if Kieran would follow.
“Be back soon.” Kieran darted after him. He slid his arm around Finley’s waist and whispered, “Don’t be mad.”
Finley looked up at him with a smirk. “Not mad, but keep it up, and I know what kind of topping you won’t be doing.”
Kieran leaned closer and whispered, “More than happy to receive.”
“Let’s get this meeting out of the way. I might even consider skipping breakfast—” His words died when multiple voices filtered from Cash’s office. “What the hell?”
Finley picked up the pace and stopped so suddenly in the doorway that Kieran crashed into him. They both stumbled into the room, drawing the attention of the three men inside, who were drinking coffee and chatting. Cash’s guests had their backs to the door, but the guy on the right had a bulky physique that triggered warning alarms.
Cash looked up and snorted. “Good of you to make it, gentlemen.”
His guests stood up and turned to face the visitors. Sure enough, the man on the right was the same big guy who’d been with Ritchie on the night of the stakeout. Broad shoulders and a military buzz cut weren’t exactly unique, but the square jaw and flat nose definitely set him apart. In the light of day, Kieran could see his hair wasn’t black as he’d first thought. Most of the bristles were dark gray with some white and lighter gray peppered throughout. His shrewd, icy blue eyes stood out in sharp contrast to his tan complexion, and he didn’t look happy to be there.
Finley gestured toward the stranger and said, “What the hell, Cash?”
“Come in and shut the door, please,” Cash said calmly.
Finley crossed his arms over his chest and screwed his features into a mutinous expression. Kieran closed the door and faced the gathering, but neither he nor Finley budged from their spots.
Cash gestured toward a pleasant seating area next to a crackling fire. “Finley, you know me well enough to know I would never hurt you.”
“But have you done anything to hurt Kieran? If so, our history won’t save you.” Big words, but the determination on his face said he meant it. Christ, could Kieran fall any harder or faster for him? The panic he expected to feel didn’t materialize, showing just how far he’d moved away from no attachments and no bonding.
The burly dude held up a hand to take control of the situation, his eyes snapping with irritation. “Let’s all save our breath and energy.” His abrupt tone matched his no-nonsense demeanor. The man reached into his jacket and removed a small wallet from an interior pocket. Flipping it open, he revealed a badge. The agency initials were large enough for Kieran and Finley to read from across the room, but the man took a minute to introduce himself anyway. “Adam Rowland. I’m a special agent with the FBI.” He gestured to the other guy, who was shorter and had sandy brown hair and easy-going blue eyes. “This is Special Agent in Charge, Nicholas Scott.” Agent Scott presented his badge also and nodded a greeting.
Both men wore dark jackets over crisp dress shirts, denim jeans, and boots. Kieran figured they both had service weapons under their jackets, but his distress had turned into curiosity now that he knew they were feds.
“Can we all sit down and have a conversation now, please?” Agent Scott asked. His tone was softer and a bit more polished than his grumpy subordinate.
Finley looked at him, and Kieran nodded.
“Coffee?” Cash asked, gesturing to a carafe and full coffee service on top of the bar.
