Page 63 of Undercover Agent

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“That’s a stretch, but maybe when we’re in Boston.”

Her face heated, and she quickly looked away.

“I think I would enjoy cooking with you, Emerson.”

She smiled. “You might want to rethink the ‘with’ part.”

“What else do you make other than popcorn and trifle?”

“Mostly things that come in a box, which are truly disgusting for the most part. I can heat things up in the microwave, though.”

Twenty minutes into the movie, Emerson was sound asleep, reminding me what she’d said about being a good sleeper that first day when she cut her head and we were in Saint’s apartment.

I eased my arm around her, loving it when she snuggled against me. I rested my head against hers, breathing her in, and for the second time, a life flashed before my eyes.

After a day spent in the sun and sand, our children in bed, Emerson and I would cuddle up and watch another year’s best romantic comedies. She’d fall asleep in my arms, but when I carried her upstairs to bed, she’d wake, and we’d spend the hours until dawn ravaging one another’s bodies.

I’d spend my days making her blush, making her giggle, cooking dinner while she did brilliant things to save the world.

Was it insane that these were now my fantasies? I’d spent three years dreaming about fucking her senseless, and now I dreamed of settling down and raising children with her.

Did the fact that I could see these things so clearly mean I was ready to manifest them into reality? Did I even have that option? It wasn’t entirely up to me. Emerson was half of this equation, and I had no idea how she felt.



When I opened my eyes, the sun was just peeking over the horizon. Lynx was beside me, and we were on the daybed on the back porch. I vaguely remembered falling asleep while we watched a movie, but that was all. Had Lynx carried me out here?

I did what I’d wanted to do the morning I woke up in his hotel room three years ago, and studied his sleeping form. I’d never woken up next to Tommy, but I doubted even he would look as beautiful as Lynx did.

His dark eyelashes were impossibly long, and it looked like he had a smile on his face. As though he sensed me staring, his eyes opened.

“Good morning,” he said with a sexy rasp to his voice.

“Were you dreaming?”

When he smiled, he looked like I’d just caught him being naughty. “I was.”


“Are you sure you want to know?”

I nodded, and he shifted his body so his steel-hard erection poked into me. He cupped my cheek with his palm and looked into my eyes. “I dreamed about a lot of things last night.”

“All the same subject?”


I scrunched my eyes.

“You,” he said.

“Sex with me.”

“Not necessarily, although there was a lot of that.”

I was intrigued. “What else?”