“Likewise.”
RJ tells me what the brother’s favorite liquor is, and I grab a double from the bar, returning to dump it all over the man’s stupidly expensive suit, before grabbing his feet and helping to fling him over the side. He lands on a manicured bush. He probably didn’t break anything, but he’s going to wake up with one hell of a headache and no idea how he ended up there.
Hopefully, he’ll think he drank too much. If not, well, we’ll be long gone.
“This man’s handwriting is like a second grader,” Walker gripes in my ear.
“His security isn’t much better,” Jansen says.
“His locks might not be top of the line, but you’ve got guards starting their rounds early. Get out of there,” RJ says, his smooth voice keeping my anxiety from spiking. My team knows what to do. They’ll be out of there in time.
Trips gives me one last weighted look, then returns to the ballroom to mingle. But he takes a moment to flash me our sign for later. I swallow my anticipation. We have to finish this gig first.
Staying where I am, I wait for an update. There’s soft cursing from Walker, followed by a slightly unhinged giggle from Jansen, then the silence.
“Guys?” I ask, my phone pressed to my ear again.
RJ’s calm voice answers. “They’re fine, Clara. Just hiding in a linen closet. Both of them. It looked like it was a tight fit.”
Trips’ huffed laughter has my own smile growing. “We all know two can fit. It just takes a little lube,” I tease, bold in a way I never would have imagined before I met these guys.
The muted laughter of my two guys trying to keep quiet mingles with Trips’ chuckle and RJ’s belly laugh, and it’s all I can do to keep my snort from escaping.
By the time Jansen makes it back to the balcony, I know we’re cutting it close. He hands off the card with a tug of one of my curls, but even he knows that now isn’t the time for getting cozy.
“I’m heading in,” I announce, striding back into the ballroom like I’m the owner of this villa and a little past tipsy. It’s the exact right lure for the man of the house. Hefinds me before I pick him out of the crowd, his grin only slightly less oily than his brother’s.
“There’s my little dove,” he says, his hand wrapping around my waist. I giggle and slide my hand under his blazer, barely slipping the card into his breast pocket before he tilts my chin up to meet his gaze.
“Clara—“ Trips’ frustrated growl warns.
Spinning, I dance out of the man’s grasp. I lean forward, like I’m going to whisper, then announce with way too much volume, “I’ve got to pee.”
I skitter away before my mark can answer, vanishing into the crowd as my guys chuckle in my ear.
Trips reaches the door a moment before me, calling for his car at the valet. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch first Jansen, then Walker, clamber down the side of the house, disappearing the other way, the document leaving with them.
I’m grinning by the time I give the valet my claim ticket, Trips roaring away in his sleek gray sports car. A minute later, I’m on the road too, gunning it so I can catch up to him on my deep purple Ducati.
It might be a rental, but I’m putting in a request for a bike at home, too. This thing is too much fun.
A few blocks later, two more bikes and the van join us, and we race back to our rental villa, mission accomplished. The wind on my face and the rumble of the engine between my legs, coupled with the high of a successful heist, has me buzzing.
No cops, no guns, no danger, just a clean in and out deal. Jansen zooms up on one side of me, swerving a bit in play, while Walker drops behind the van, just in case. Trips’ sportscar adds to the cacophony, playing right into my adrenaline high.
“You look hot on that thing in a see-through dress,” Jansen says through our earpieces.
“Agreed,” RJ states, his voice a little ragged.
“I plan on getting you out of that dress as soon as we’re back,” Walker states.
Trips manually shifts, the purr of the engine as he races us back comment enough.
By the time we make it up the mountain to our villa, I’m burning with delayed desire.
These men—a few words, and I’m ready for anything, practically salivating in anticipation.
Trips parks and marches into the villa with a weighty backwards glance, Walker and Jansen soon following. But I stay where I am, straddling thirty grand worth of machine, waiting for RJ to finish putting our temporary surveillance van to bed for the night. When he comes out, I grab him, pulling him onto the seat with me.
