When they had returned from Mexico, Mia’s meeting with her FBI handler had been tense but ultimately liberating. She had handed over all the evidence, the culmination of months of undercover work within her father’s empire. The weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders when she was informed that Ethan would face charges and that they would undoubtedly stick. His subsequent arrest was swift and unceremonious and the trial that had taken place months later hadn’t been as long and drawn out as Mia had feared it might.
However, after just a couple of months in prison, Ethan had been attacked by a fellow inmate and killed. When the news had reached Mia, she thought she should be more upset, but she felt more sorrow thinking about the father she never had than grieving for the one she did.
Though the FBI had seized many of her father’s assets during their investigation, Mia’s childhood home remained untouched because it hadn’t belonged to Ethan, it had belonged to Mia, a legacy from her mother that had been passed down to her in her mother’s will. But after so many years of unhappy memories in the house, Mia had put it up for sale and now, it was someone else’s responsibility. Someone else’s burden. She didn’t miss it. With Max by her side, she was ready to create new memories in a place they could truly call their own. She knew that Max’s job meant that he could be transferred to a different field office at any time, but she was okay with that. She didn’t care where she lived, as long as it was with him.
“The food is amazing Mia,” Carter said.
She beamed at him. “Thank you. I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”
Carter inclined his head. “I’m not much of a cook so it’s a real treat to have a home cooked meal. Reminds me of being back in Colorado.”
“Do you get home much?” Max asked.
Carter shook his head. “No, but actually I’m heading back there tomorrow. I got a disturbing message off my dad earlier that I think I should investigate.”
Max frowned. “What sort of message?”
Carter sighed. “He said he hasn’t been able to get hold of my sister for a couple of days. I mean, I’m sure it’s nothing—my sister has always been a bit of a wild child, but my mom is worried, so I’m going to go home and see what’s what.”
“Like some company?” Seb asked. “I’m on leave for a week and I’ve been wondering what I should do with my time.”
“You’d be more than welcome,” Carter said. “Wait until I tell Mom we’ll have company, she’ll be cooking up a storm.”
Seb grinned. “Tell her that bear shifters have got huge appetites.”
When all the men chuckled, Mia giggled along with them, but then she sobered.
“Keep us informed of what’s happening, Carter,” she said. “Or I’ll worry.”
Max squeezed her hand under the table and she took comfort from the touch.
“And if you need help, with anything,” Max said, “don’t hesitate to call.”
There were five murmurs of agreement from around the table and as they continued to chat amiably, teasing one anotherand making silly jokes, Mia knew that there was no place on earth she would rather be than sitting at her mate’s side with their friends surrounding them. Well, except foroneplace.
As the evening drew to a close, one by one their friends left, until Mia and Max were alone.
“At last,” she murmured, sliding onto his lap with a grin. “Not that I don’t enjoy their company, but I really don’t sharing.”
“Oh?” Max arched a brow. “Must be an only child thing. I don’t much like sharing you, either.”
And he bent his head to capture her lips with his. She melted against him, reveling in the feel of his firm chest against her body, and she knew. She’d known for some time, really. She broke their kiss.
“I want it to be tonight, Max.”
He froze, then gazed down at her with wonder.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. If you are, I mean.”
By way of response, he swept her up into his arms and rose from the chair. She clung to him with a yelp and a giggle.
“Where are we going?”
“To our bedroom.” He caught her lips again, his kiss dominating, demanding, and yet so giving. “We’re going to do this right.”
“You had no objections to us using the sofa yesterday,” she pointed out. “Or the table. Or…”
