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He placed the hot cakes on a platter and then brought them over to her. He slid them slowly across the island and into Sky’s awaiting hands. “Sweet, you’re no common rock. You’re volcanic lava waiting and bubbling just below the surface. It just took the right man to inspire you, was all.”
Groaning, Sky took the pancakes. “Stop with the sex talk, Cal, or I swear, I’m going to jump you here and now on this island.” Sky had never experienced it with another man. Not that she’d had that many, but all Cal had to do was drop into that gritty tone, and her body responded hotly and without apology to him, much to her amazement. Both agreed they were highly sexed people who enjoyed it often. Nothing wrong with that!
Chuckling, Cal said, “You love sex just as much as I do,” he challenged, pouring more batter into the skillet. He heard Sky snort. The pleasant clink of silverware against the plate told Cal she was enjoying the pancakes after buttering them and pouring maple syrup on the stack. When Sky had come out of Peru with him, she’d been terribly underweight. Now, months under his roof with his cooking, she’d regained every pound she’d lost. She looked filled out and beautiful to Cal, no longer a skeleton with skin stretched across her bones. He frowned, glad to be out of Peru. He hated that Sky had been forced to run and hide in South America to avoid being discovered by Vlad Alexandrov. She had found a job down there as a helicopter pilot and was flying for the Helping Hands Charity. When he’d finally found her, Cal was shocked at how thin, how ethereal and fragile she looked. He’d made it his personal mission to get Sky eating more food, and happy.
“Well?” he called over his shoulder. “Good?”
“Mmmmm.”
Cal grinned and checked her out. Sky was sitting with half the pancakes gone, a bulge in her cheek, unable to talk. His heart opened fiercely with love for her. For the first time in her twenty-nine years of life, she was happy. Cal felt a tunnel of joy flowing through his heart. She was always the serious adult that life had demanded of her, and now, he was privileged to see those walls she’d lived behind all her life dissolve and her child-like joy shine through. The difference in Sky now versus years earlier that he’d known her was heart-stopping to him. Cal felt like he was watching a woman who had run and hid most of her life begin to unfold for the first time, because she was finally safe. With Vlad Alexandrov killed by an Army Special Forces Sergeant Mace Killmer in Peru, he could no longer hunt her down. His torments and threats wouldn’t ever need to trouble her again. Vlad had talked of marrying her, that she would be the mother of his children, by force if necessary. Sky thought he was insane but could not escape him at age sixteen. She loved her foster parents, the Zimmerman’s, but was afraid to tell them of Vlad’s continued harassment for fear of causing them trouble and being removed from their home. He was dead now, and she was free.
“…Really…delicious, Cal…”
“Good to hear.” He flipped his cakes onto a plate and turned off the stove. Joining her at the island, he pulled over the butter and the maple syrup. “You want more?” Sky had gobbled down all three of the cakes, her appetite hearty. He appreciated a woman who could really enjoy food and eat, instead of always worrying about calories.
“No,” Sky protested, holding up her hand. “I’m stuffed, Sinclair. No more,” and she wiped her mouth with the red linen napkin.
Cal buttered his pancakes, absorbing her nearness next to him. They often ate breakfast here, but sometimes, he would surprise Sky with a breakfast tray and present it to her in their bed. “I don’t want you losing weight again,” he growled.
“If I gain one more pound, I’ll be in trouble with that wedding gown,” she warned him pertly, poking him in his muscular upper arm.
“I can hardly wait to see you in it,” and Cal gave her an evil look. “Though you won’t be wearing it it very long.”
Sky laughed and carried her plate and flatware over to the sink, washing them off. “You’ll see it the day Dylan McCoy walks me down the aisle at Coronado.”
“Lauren Parker says it’s beautiful,” he taunted, pouring syrup over his cakes.
Scowling, Sky rested her hips against the counter, staring at him. Lauren was an ex-Marine Corps sniper who now worked for Shield Security with Cal. “There’s no WAY she’s giving you ANY intel on my wedding dress. The groom is not supposed to see it until the wedding.” She shook her finger at him. “It’s bad luck if you see it beforehand, Cal. I know you’re black ops, and I wouldn’t put it past you to get sneaky, pick the lock on the wedding shop in Alexandria, find my dress and look at it just to satisfy your own burning curiosity.”
“Guilty” Cal jested. He saw Sky’s face suddenly fall. Anxiety filled her eyes.
Cal cringed. He’d been teasing her, but she’d taken him seriously. “I have NOT done that, Sky. I promised you I wouldn’t see it before you walk down the aisle. Okay?” Sky’s face was so readable. He saw the mutinous look she gave him.
“Really? You haven’t seen it, Cal?”
“Honest,” he muttered, holding up his right hand, “Boy Scouts honor.”
“You were NEVER a Boy Scout, Sinclair.”
“True,” he admitted, devoting his attention to the pancakes. “But I have NOT seen your dress.” Cal pinned her with what he hoped was a sincere look, “Nor will I try to see it beforehand. I believe in old sayings. There’s no way I’m cursing our marriage, so stop worrying. Okay?”
Cal was rather superstitious, sometimes. Sky found out many SEALs had a talisman they carried in their gear to ensure their luck would continue to hold out in the field on their dangerous, deadly missions. It was their protective charm. Cal, to this day, carried a pretty much hairless rabbit’s foot on him. He felt it was his good luck charm and never left on a mission without carrying it in his gear. “Okay,” she said, coming back and joining him at the island. “So? Your boss wants you down at Shield HQ at 1300 today? Big meeting there with all his employees?”
“Yeah, Driscoll’s got several missions coming up all at once, and he needs me there to help in planning.”
Sky moved her hand along Cal’s shoulder. The red polo shirt he wore fit him like a delicious second skin and she felt her fingertips tingle as his muscles reacted instantly to her grazing touch. “You’re his top mission specialist.”
“Me and Lauren Parker are,” he corrected. “We have to show up for all the briefings.”
Sky knew Cal usually did all black ops planning for Shield, along with several other men and women. He worked on a part time basis, three days a week. Sometimes, he brought the work to his office here at home. “I was talking with Lauren yesterday over lunch. She said Jack had hired in another security contractor.”
“Yes,” Cal said, finishing off his pancakes, “we’ll meet them today.”
“Jack’s business is growing fast,” Sky murmured. She took his empty plate and walked it over to the kitchen’s double sink.
Cal nodded. “With the way the world’s going, everyone who can afford good security is more than willing to pay for it. Which is why he’s hiring.”
“Is it a woman?” Sky asked. Half of Jack’s company was composed of ex-military women.
