Oh my god. I’m getting him some swim trunks ASAP.
Justice gets in, dipping down into the water up to his neck. He finally meets my eyes. “You okay?”
“Very.”
Spence pulls me onto his lap and I almost faint. “Honey,” I hiss.
He situations me so that I’m across his lap, my back resting against his chest and wraps two brawny arms around me.
Rosalie’s eyes nearly pop out of her head. “Well, I guess you two had a nice time alone?”
“For the love of god,” Justice groans, “Can we not talk about that?”
“What?” I ask, teasing, “You don’t want to hear about decorating the tree, and eating way too much food, and throwing knives, and watching a movie?”
Justice is shaking his head.
Spence chuckles next to my ear. “Don’t tease him too much. He’s pretty good with a hatchet.”
“Pretty good?” My brother scoffs.
“I’m thinking we should all head down there for a match after we kill some of that food? What do you think?” I look around at each of them.
Finally Justice relents. “Okay. Deal.”
And I know, that even though he’s grumpy and protective, that he’s totally onboard with Spence being my… boyfriend?
Rosalie winks as she links her hand with Justice’s. “I can’t wait for the wedding. Where are we going?”
I’m too speechless to answer. But Spence is quick to reply. “Wherever she wants to go. I have a passport and will go anywhere her heart desires.”
New Year’s Eve
The entire Agile Security & Rescue Team is crammed into the kitchen. And when I say crammed, that’s hard to imagine with a kitchen the size of most apartments. But when you have this crew together, it’s a LOT.
That’s not even counting the kids running through the living room with Simona chasing them, shouting in Czech.
Someone whistles. Oh, it’s Beast. He’s 6’6” and Team Falcon’s leader. He yells, “Rally up, people. Grab a dish and head to the table.”
His team snaps to it. As the original Agile team, Cole, Scotch, Andre, and Wolf, the SAS solider, Eli and Beckett all huddle over something on a table in the corner.
“What are you guys up to?” Spence asks, strolling to stand behind them, looking at whatever they’re up to.
There’s laughter and some muttered responses.
“Oh, Jesus,” Spence says, shaking his head. “Hope the fire suppression system is good in this place.”
He grabs my hand and tugs me from the room.
“What are they doing?” I jog to keep up with him as we make our way toward the massive dining area which has been set up to accommodate more than forty people.
“No one should ever trust special ops soldiers with food that involves fire.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will.”
He ushers me to a seat at the far end of the table, presumably as far as possible from whatever is going on in the kitchen.
