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“Deimos—”
“But there’s not muchIdon’t see,” he growls quietly. “I like you, Castle. I mean that. You saved Ares’ life, and Callie’s, too. You respect family, and you carry yourself with honor.”
My jaw sets as he walks forward, stopping right in front of me.
“So I’m asking you again:is she happy?”
“Yes.”
I don’t have to think about it. And I’m not going to stand here trying to come up with bullshit to feed him. We’re obviously well past the point of denying anything anyways.
“Yeah,” I growl again. “She’s happy.”
“And when this year-long commitment is over?”
“That’ll be up to her, of course. For my part, I don’t plan on ever making herunhappy, Deimos,” I say quietly.
He flashes a cool, shark-like smile, his dark eyes glinting with just a touch of malice. “So… I don’t need to detail the ways I would make your life—”
“How about you don’t threaten meat all,” I grunt. “And we stay on good terms.”
Deimos cocks his head, looking halfway between amused and about to explode at any second. Then the expression fades as he nods.
“Tell my sister I said hello?”
“That I will.”
He cocks his head again, smiling that slightly off-putting smile before he reaches out and claps me on the shoulder.
“Good. Take care of her, Castle.”
She’s still in the shower when he leaves. I walk right in, shedding my clothes on the bathroom floor and slipping into the steamy heat behind her. She grins as she turns and sinks against my chest. And when I tell her about the dead assassin and Massimo’s marriage, she shrieks and jumps up into my arms and kisses me deeply.
Maybe I don’t know exactly what this is. But I do know that with her, the roaring in my head goes quiet. The wars fade into the distance.
And for the first time in a long time—maybe in forever—I don’t feel like I’m on a mission.
It just feels like I’m living.
31
CASTLE
“Morning.”
In what’s become my favorite chair by the windows, I look up from my phone and my coffee when I hear her voice. A grin spreads over my face as Callie saunters to a stop in front of me in a loose tank top and panties.
“Morning yourself.”
She’s still bleary-eyed, and her hair is in a comic state of bed head. But still…
I meanfuck, is this girl beautiful. And I’ve come to realize that it’s precisely the chaotic nature twisting through her like a hurricane that attracts me to her.Me, the rule-master. The guy who still makes his bed with crisp, sharp right angles every damn morning. The man who can’t even enter a room without scoping out two exits and any blind spots.
She’s a splash of chaos in my life of straight lines and rigid timetables. And I like that.
She grins a sleepy grin at me as she plucks the mug from my hand and takes a sip. Her face wrinkles instantly.
“Fuckinghell, what is that?”
