Page 83

Grace

Grace liked what he saw on tonight’s menu. It’d been a while since he’d had lamb.

“Looks like a nice spread, huh?”

Grace licked his lips. The menu wasn’t the only thing that looked delicious tonight.

“You keep looking at me like that and we won’t make it to the appetizers,” Mirage murmured, still staring at his menu.

Grace still didn’t smile on the outside, but his inside beamed with joy.

Their usual waiter approached their table, following the same protocol as always, and filled their wine glasses in silence.

Once he left, he and Mirage exchanged knowing glances, their fingers brushing after they finished the amuse-bouche.

Their intimate corner behind a dark curtain at Terrapas was the one place in the world—outside their apartments—where they could just be Grayson and Matthew.

Mirage stared into Grace’s eyes, most likely reading his every thought.

Mirage was stunning tonight in his pecan-colored pullover with the lightweight hood covering his tousled hair. The color was striking against his ivory skin.

Grace could always see Mirage’s eyes through his hood, but this one was so thin the overhead ambient lighting made the gray in his blue-gray irises glisten.

Grace couldn’t resist another second. He leaned over, and instinctively, Mirage met him halfway.

They kissed gently, slowly, cherishing this calm before the storm.

The mission loomed like a dark cloud, but this evening, in their corner, they were cocooned in light and intimacy. Their love for each other was strong enough to transform the darkness dominating their lives into something comforting.

Grace was so full by the sixth course that he skipped the crème br?lée and opted for coffee so he could chill and watch Mirage lick the sugar off his fork.

When the waiter returned to refill Mirage’s glass of dessert wine, a feeling of dangerous energy rolled down Grace’s back.

It wasn’t their regular server.

This guy was handsome. His eyes were a startling green, and his skin was the color of sun-warmed honey with rich caramel undertones.

He didn’t wear a polite waiter’s smile. Rather, his cut jaw was clenched tight, and subtle freckles sprinkled his cheeks.

The new server wore a crisp white shirt and brown instead of black slacks. He approached cautiously, his rich moss-colored eyes fixed on Grace.

It was Zelmir Benton.

Their mark lurking right there in plain sight.

Neither he nor Mirage made a move as they watched Zelmir lean in to fill Mirage’s glass before he slipped a folded note onto the edge of the table.

He turned and disappeared back into the kitchen as Mirage took the note and read the four words scribbled inside.

Whispering Pines Park. Now.

Mirage crumpled the note and shoved it into his pocket.

Grace dropped ten one-hundred-dollar bills on the table, got in front of Mirage, and the two of them left out the side door.

“This is who we think it is, yes?” Mirage whispered, his warm breath brushing the back of his neck.

“I’m sure of it,” Grace answered. “The Greens came to us. Locate Ex and Meridian”