There’s a knock at the door. Kate is there in two seconds flat. “Xaden Bailey, requesting entrance,” she calls back. “Do you allow it? I can confirm he’s friendly.”
I start coughing. “Um… yeah,” I stammer. “I… allow it.”
Xaden steps inside, carrying a thick folder. He looks tired. Worn. Worried. And he’s staring at me, or more specifically, at my shirt. It takes me a second to realize why. It’s his. Old, soft, one of those I never gave back. He gives me a lazy smile. “Nice shirt.”
I try to play it cool. “Thank you. Family heirloom.”
“Really?” His grin deepens.
“Really,” I say primly, turning back to the dishwasher like it holds the secrets of the universe.
Kate slips into the living room, leaving us alone.
“She’s an SBI agent,” I whisper. Then I cringe. Obviously Xaden knows that. He clears his throat and hands me the folder, face suddenly all business.
“It’s all there,” he says, clipped, formal. He does that when he’s flustered, goes all senator-on-the-floor while I’m standing here blushing like an idiot.
“What do you want to do?” I nod toward the folder. He hesitates, jaw working.
“What I want, and what I have to do… two very different things. Right now it’s only about one goal. Making sure Willard rots in prison for the rest of his life.”
The air feels heavier. My hands tighten on the folder. I have the creeping feeling that once I open it, there’s no closing it again.
“You’re going to do something dangerous, aren’t you?” I whisper. Xaden pulls me close and kisses the top of my head. I don’t know if he even realized he was doing that.
For a moment, I let myself relax in the cocoon of his arms.
Then Xaden looks at me. “We have a good plan. And I kind of know what I’m doing.”
“Do you, now?” I can’t help but smile.
“I do. Besides,” Xaden gives me a smile so flirty, I almost faint, and then murmurs close to my ear. “I have very strong arms. Major plus.”
“That’s… so conceited,” I mutter, heat curling in my stomach. The doorbell rings again and interrupts our charged hug.
“Cole, are you expecting visitors?” Kate calls, then I hear her add: “Smells divine.”
A scowling voice answers in Italian: “Certo che profuma bene, l’ha fatta mia madre.”
Antonio?Sure enough, he’s on the porch with Caspian, who’s clutching a giant pot that smells like tomato heaven. Antonio’s got two bottles of wine. He looks even scowlier than I remembered.
Caspian attempts to translate. “He said that yes, I have a…mother?”
“You’d be doing all of us a favor if you stopped pretending you understand a word of Italian,” Antonio mutters. To my surprise, Kate answers in flawless Italian: “Sta cercando di adottare per caso?”
Antonio blinks. Caspian jumps in quickly. “She said your mom might be single?”
“I know what she said,” Antonio sighs, “and it definitely wasn’t that.”
I usher them in.
Caspian sets the pot on the counter, giving me a wary look. “What’s going on?”
“A long story,” I say. “But when I asked for snacks, I didn’t think you’d bring half of Trattoria di Scotti with you.”
“I happened to be in the neighborhood,” Caspian says, a bit flustered. Antonio puts the wine bottles on the counter with a very displeased clink.
“You happened to be in the neighborhood?” He arches a perfect brow. “So we weren’t on a date?”
