He held up his hands, his lips quirking up in ill-concealed amusement. “Sorry, Mar! Didn’t mean to frighten you. I thought you might have second thoughts about joining us and wanted to come get you before you drove away.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because you’re opposed to our business ventures?”
To say the least . . .
“Come on.” He nodded his head toward the bonfire. “I’ll introduce you to my Merry Men. Maybe after hanging out with us a bit, you’ll change your mind.”
Merry Men. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
“Isn’t it enough that I’m joining you?” I refrained from commenting on the ridiculous name as I unfolded myself from the Saab and shut the door. “You don’t need to corrupt me too.”
“Having you around is always enough,” Robin said simply.
I narrowed my eyes, but someone had called his name and Robin was staring back toward the bonfire. The grinning devil didn’t even notice my warning look. I exhaled a soft sigh—both frustrated by how he could just say things like that—almost like we were still together—and charmed with his enthusiasm for others.
That’s how he is. Let it go.I directed my attention toward the group. As soon as I did, my heart skipped a beat.
“Is that—”
“Little John. Yup. How long has it been since you’ve seen him?”
I shook my head. When we’d left the orphanage at eighteen, Robin and I had gone one way, and John went the other.
“Years,” I said, unable to stop staring at the hulk of muscle by the fire.
As if he could feel my eyes on him, John, who we all called Little John even though he always towered six inches above anyone else in our childhood posse, caught sight of me. The next thing I knew, his long legs ate up the ground as he bounded toward me.
“Marian!” John swept me off my feet and twirled. “Girl, it’s been way too long!”
I squealed, happy to see an old friend. “Stupid long.” He set me down, and we beamed at each other. “Robin didn’t tell me you’d be here.”
“He mentioned you. Particularly that you weren’t too pleased to see him.”
“I was taken aback,” I admitted.
“Well, no matter. I’m glad you came tonight.” LJ pulled me up into a hug again. “My two favorite foxes! Tuck will die when he sees you.”
“He’s here too?” Unable to help myself, I shot an accusatory glance at Robin. “Who else have you been hiding from me?”
Robin held up his hands. “A few faces you know and a few you don’t. We picked up new people here and there over the years. They’ve all been dying to know the identity of therogue agentI recruited.”
“I’m not arogue agent. And this is a one time thing,” I asserted.
“As LJ mentioned, Tuck is with us. Alan, Tinker, Gilly, and Will, too.”
“And Munchie,” LJ added, holding up a finger.
I gaped. “Munchie!? But he’s so young!”
Munchie was a thin, harpy eagle-shifter who I’d watched grow since he was an infant. Strangely, he preferred the nickname that referred to his sleep-eating habit over his true name, Nick. He left the orphanage only two years ago. When I’d last seen him, his alert amber eyes had been bright and searching for his place to land. Some months later, Ada mentioned that he was working in a bakery.
“He’s the baby of the crew,” Robin said with none of the anxiety or worry that I felt for the boy. “Only been with us for six months. Apparently, he didn’t much like the early hours of bakery life. He’s light of foot, which is handy. He also has as much a knack for safe-cracking as he does kneading dough. Actually, he’s so good at the former that he’s started to teach Will.”
A soft sigh left me. This wasn’t the life I’d pictured for the kids I’d helped raise. It was disappointing, even if a small part of me understood. No matter how wonderful Ada or the staff at the orphanage were, being an orphan was tough. You searched for family, answers, and love wherever you went.
“Everyone here came on their own volition,” Robin said. “I didn’t recruit a soul—except you. Most of them want a family. I do my best to give them that, even if my methods are . . . unorthodox.”
