While he was busy cupping his hands beneath her ass, she planted one big lips-and-tongue kiss on his mouth. Then whipped her sleep shirt off over her head.
Damn, life was good.
“You did okay while I was gone?” Sliding her to the floor, he pushed his shoes off.
“Yep.” Her hands were busy getting his shorts off. “You still in one piece?”
“Yeah.” He pushed her hands out of the way and ripped the shorts away himself. She was too slow. Way too slow. “You still plan to stay?”
“Looks like I’m here.” She pressed herself close and closer. Skin to skin. Heat to heat. Then looked him in the eyes. “Are you going to ask me that every time you come home from an assignment?”
Good question. Why couldn’t he just let it be? Take what was here and now? See where the path would take them? No, that’s not what he wanted. He needed this to be right for both of them. Going on these two assignments had been his test, too. He’d discovered he knew how to push his personal life aside and do his job. All he wanted now was to be with Liz forever. His choice had been made. What about her?
“That’s not what I asked. Are you—”
“Oh, for all that’s holy.” Panting, she took a step back. “Yes, I’m okay. Yes, I’ll be okay when you’re gone. Yes, I plan to stay forever.” She traced her finger down his chest. “Now, are you just gonna stand there and talk all night? Or are we getting this on, Agent Granger?”
He grinned. Getting this on? Oh, she had no idea howonhe felt. “Yes, ma’am. We are”—he shucked the last of his clothes; there was no way they would make it to the bedroom—“getting this—”
They tumbled to the sofa. Made it to bed much, much later. And had a good, long swim the next day.
A week later, the Mariner’s Bar and Grill was packed with OPAQUE agents and their families. Even some CIA and FBI had joined them inside, otherwise they were unofficially guarding the outside. Drake’s semiannual get-together was in full steam complete with burgers and ribs, salad and fries, and, of course, the special shrimp tacos the Mariner’s was known for. Soda and coffee and tea and water flowed like a fountain. But Drake’s rule on only two beers per person had been strictly enforced.
After all, this was a family affair. Complete with Drake handing out pink-wrapped chocolate cigars announcingIt’s A Girl. Everyone had been sky-high excited when the DNA test came back saying he was Liz’s dad. She still called him Drake, but her tone sounded more like “Dad.”
“Hey, Mitch.” Reese came over with a few of the other agents. “I was just telling these guys how CT screwed up by giving us too much time to get off the boat before it blew. Our team laid down a winning sprint that day.”
Joey shook his head and headed toward the door to the beach. “How many times are we gonna hear about—”
“Hey, they haven’t all heard the story.” Reese painted the picture with his hands, in broad strokes and storytelling embellishments. “No lie. A CIA crew was on its way to take the boat into port, so Stealth, Josh, and I had volunteered to stay on board until they arrived.”
“Everyone else had left.” Josh stepped farther into the group. “Reese had been using the binoculars, looking at the house lights up and down the beach and—”
“All of a sudden, I see Liz jumping up and down on the deck, waving her arms over her head,” Reese said. “Then some guy comes up behind her and yanks her back inside. That struck a nerve. Something was wrong.”
Dressed in his best black silk suit, black shirt, and black spit-shined shoes, Stealth hung back at the fringes of the growing crowd of agents. The jungle fighter agent liked his privacy.
“The three of us didn’t even take time to think. We just dove into the water. Good thing. The damn boat blew to hell and back before we hit the water.” Josh cleared his throat. “You might say Liz saved our lives.”
Mitch stood silent. Watching his team tell their story of survival made him proud.
“Ten seconds less, and some of us might not be walking with a pair.” Reese swiped his brow. “As it was, there were hardly even singed eyebrows. Isn’t that right, Stealth?”
“All I know is one minute I’m hauling my ass to shore,” Stealth said. “The next, I’m helping Drake keep Mitch from bleeding out on the floor. And what’s Mitch doing? Just lying on the floor taking a nap. Didn’t do a damn thing to help us.”
Mitch narrowed his eyes, furrowed his brow. “Excuse the hell out of me. If you guys had been on time, I wouldn’t have been lying there bleeding out and gasping for air.” He fist-bumped Stealth on the bicep. “Besides, since when do you need help taking down a few bad guys?”
“You think that was bad? I’m the one who talked my CIA buddy into taking his chopper up in a storm.” Reese shook his head. “I even pulled Mitch’s ass out of the water.”
“Well,I’m the onewho told him when to jump in the first place.” Stealth leaned forward and took one small hop.
Everyone burst out laughing.
The group of people gathered around grew larger by the minute. Everyone was anxious to know what might be true in the latest story about the escapades of Drake’s elite team—the Shades of Leverage.
Mitch would do anything for his team and any other team that needed an extra man. There was only one thing wrong with telling larger-than-life stories, though—most of the time they were real.
He motioned Liz to join the Shades team as the larger group dispersed to hear other tall tales.
