CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
She knew by how he answered the phone that he wasn’t sure who was on the other side of the call. It better not be a private call, as she didn’t think her legs were up to working just yet. She wasn’t even sure they would be up to walking by tomorrow either.
I just had sex with Draven.
Holy cow.
Oh my word .
It didn’t quite seem real, yet the delicious ache from what they’d just done told her it was so very real. How many times had she fantasied of this moment? The phone call aside, it was nothing like she’d imagined. It was better… so much better. She ran her hand down his hand and her heart leaped when he smiled at her over his shoulder.
He doesn’t hate me.
He hasn’t changed his mind.
“Yeah, I’ll tell her.” Draven winked at her. “We are just getting out of bed, so we need showers and shit.” He glanced at his watch. “Do we have an hour? Perfect, see you then.” He tossed the phone back on the bedside table.
She squeaked when he caught her and rolled her under him. Her lips parted when he kissed her. In contrast to the ones earlier, this one was soft, sweet, and soul achingly beautiful. When he finally pulled back and moved to one side, keeping her in his embrace, she sighed happily.
“Remi McKinley called to tell you that the closet is filled with civilian clothes of every size possible.” His hand ran up and down her arm. “We are to pick what we want and wear it to dinner on the terrace in an hour.”
“Do you feel like we’re being summoned to dinner with my father?”
“Yeah.” Draven kissed her again then sat up. “If they start asking me what my intentions are, I’m going to punch them in the mouth.”
It really should be illegal for a man to look that freaking beautiful.
She scanned his body and paused where his dick stood still at half-mast with the condom barely hanging on the tip. Her eyes shot back to his and she could feel laughter bubble up inside her.
“What?”
“You have the condom hanging off…” She covered her mouth with one hand and gestured toward his nether regions with the other.
“Off what?”
He was an asshole, but she was laughing too much to be mad about it. “Your little friend.”
His expression changed from one of mirth to indignation. “There is nothing little about—er—my friend.”
Truth. I still feel you.
She cocked one eyebrow up at him and somehow managed to say absolutely nothing. At first, she thought he was all kinds of pissed when he stalked away from her. But when he crouched at his go-bag and grabbed something, she leaned to one side to get a better look. He turned around, ripping open another foil packet with his teeth.
“Before we go to dinner, let me prove to you that my friend ain’t small.”
Her eyes widened as he pounced. “Ooh.”
“Plan on saying more of that, baby, because now I have a mission.”
Almost an hour later she stared at herself in the mirror. Hopefully her hair wasn’t too much of a mess, because after Draven had proven to her that his friend wasn’t small… twice… she didn’t have time to wash it, so a braid would have to do. She smoothed the straps on the blue maxi dress and checked her bra straps weren’t showing.
“Swish, swhooo.”
She spun around and smiled at him. “You look rather dashing yourself.”
“That dress was made for you.” He stepped up behind her and wrapped her into his arms. “Are you sure you didn’t have it stashed in your ruck?”
“If it had been, it would be covered in mud like everything else.” She prayed it wouldn’t be see through when they went out into the daylight, because the only cleanish pair of panties she’d had left, Draven had destroyed earlier.
“You make that dress look beautiful, Indy.”
She stuck her hands into the pockets and showed them off. “Thanks, it has pockets.”
“I hear those are important.” He pressed a kiss to her left temple. “Come on, we better move or we’ll be late for dinner.”
Her belly growled in response. She was used to going for a long period of time with food being scarce, but this was a stretch, even for her. She took his hand. “I could eat a full-grown cow.” She paused as he scanned the room before pulling the door shut behind them. “I wouldn’t even need salt.”
“I hear that.” He placed his hand on her lower back and walked with her down the hall. “There’s only so long an MRE can hold us over.”
Slightly unsure of how their dynamic might have changed, she clamped down on the inside of her cheek, then promptly changed her mind. He knew who she was. He could deal. “You mean we worked up an appetite and now need to refuel for more?”
Please say yes.
If you say no, I’m pushing you down these fancy ass stairs.
He sucked in a breath, snorted, and lowered his head to whisper in her ear, “I don’t know if I’m capable of more tonight, baby. Because you wore me out.”
“There you are,” Gunnar called from the bottom of the stairs. “I was just gonna come hammer on your door.”
“Shit like that can get you shot,” Draven said mildly. “I get kinda jumpy in a strange place.”
She wasn’t imagining his hand on her back tensing, right? She didn’t think so, and leaned slightly into him, offering silent support for whatever had ticked him off.
“I don’t like people who shoot me.” Gunnar led them through the kitchen and out into an enclosed courtyard. “Don’t shoot me and we’re good.” He led them to a corner where a long table had been set up for dinner.
“Don’t stomp where you don’t belong,” Draven pulled out a chair for her, “and we’re good.”
I’m so confused right now.
She glanced from one to the other, trying to figure out what kind of macho stuff was flying over her head, but decided to try and defuse the situation. “Thank you so much for letting us stay.” She smiled at Gunnar. “You have a beautiful home.”
“Thanks, we like it too.” He uncorked a bottle of wine and poured some into the glass at her elbow. “This is wine from Piemonte. It had almost died out, but a couple of growers brought it back. It costs a fortune to buy it outside of Italy.” He filled the rest of the glasses, pausing to move out of the way for his brothers to place platters of crostini, cheeses, and cold cuts. “I hope you’re hungry, because we may have made a lot of food.”
She smiled at the other McKinleys, and nudged Draven with her toe when his face darkened. “You, Gunnar McKinley, provide better service than most five-star hotels.”
“Nah, it’s just a family style dinner in Italy.” Gunnar sipped from his glass. “I don’t believe you know all my brothers.” He pointed to the one sitting across from him. “This is Colt. He’s a pain in my ass, we keep telling him he’s adopted as he’s the only one with green eyes, but he won’t listen…” Gunnar paused, “or leave.”
“It’s my mission in life to stay where I can make you batshit on a daily basis.” Colt grabbed the platter of crostini and offered it to her. “Ignore him,” he advised. “He’s just cranky because Mom spent an hour chewing his head off for being a dumbass.”
“Mothers will do that.” Draven picked from the platter and passed it on to Gunnar. “Sometimes not having brothers is awesome, so I can see why you’d want to ship a couple off somewhere.”
“Hah.” Colt snorted and kept passing platters until her plate was loaded with food. “Don’t eat too much,” he advised her. “This is Italy, we have about ten more courses to go before we’re done.”
“Ten?” She was hungry, but not a bottomless pit. “I’m never going to be able to eat that much.” How the frick-frack were Italians not as big as house? If this was a typical dinner, she’d have to move up a couple of dress sizes for sure.
“That one hogging all the jam…”
“It’s not jam,” his brother interrupted. “It just looks and tastes like it.” He grinned across the table at her. “It’s awesome with the cream cheese. I’ll let you taste it for a price.”
The crostini Draven had in his hand snapped in two and he dropped both pieces onto his plate. He drank deeply from his wine glass as if he was searching for something, probably patience at the bottom of the glass. Once he came up for air, he scowled across the table. “Remi.”
“At your service.” Remi McKinley offered a sweeping bow, but because he was seated at the table, only the brother next to him having quick reflexes kept a glass from flying. “Oops. Thanks, Tal.”
“Stop being an idiot before Kilkenny kicks your ass,” the brother she knew was Talon replied. “Rein it in, bro.”
Understanding dawned. She was the idiot. She hadn’t picked up on the fact they were flirting with her. Her insides warmed as she figured out what was happening. Draven was jealous.
That can’t be possible.
She’d never in her life seen him get jealous of anything. Granted it had been a lot of years since she’d seen him date anyone… but even then, jealousy had never been a trait he’d shown. At least not around her.
“That’s our Talon,” Colt told her. “He’s the peacemaker.”
“We met before.” She nodded to the former Delta Force operator with whom she’d worked with on a couple of intel gathering roles. “Why is he the peacemaker?” She shifted in her chair until her bare shoulders brushed off Draven’s arm.
Draven’s grip on the glass stem relaxed. “Because he defuses crap before it escalates. The other two are jackasses, but good at what they do, so we tolerate them.”
“What about him?” She cocked her head toward Gunnar. He didn’t strike her as a jackass, although she had no doubt he could be, so she assumed Draven was talking about Colt and Remi.
“He’s… um…” Draven frowned as if he was trying to figure out how to respond without insulting their host. “He’s Gunnar.”
“Nice save.” Talon stuffed a crostini loaded with ham, olives, and truffle paste.
“Just making sure we don’t get kicked out.”
“Gunnar.” She sipped her wine. “Gunnar?”
“Pretty much.”
She considered how none of them seemed to want to describe the oldest McKinley but decided it didn’t really matter. The men made short work of clearing the platters. Colt and Remi disappeared with them and returned with more plates which they placed in front of them.
“There’s grilled meats next,” Gunnar said. “So don’t fill up on too much pasta.”
“You’re only saying that because you want her to prefer your pork chops over my lasagna.” Remi pushed at Gunnar, almost sending him flying off the table. “That’s cheating.”
Confusion turned to understanding; they must have placed bets on which food she’d eat most of or something. She glanced at the huge plate of Carbonara. “So far, the crostini was awesome.” She figured those had been made by Talon, given how he gave her a discreet thumbs up where the others couldn’t see. “I’m sure the pasta will be fabulous too.” She waited for everyone to sit back down before tasting it. “It’s good. Isn’t it, Draven?” Indy asked sweetly.
“I think Kilkenny has lost his ability to speak.” Talon smirked across the table. “Did you swallow your tongue, dude?”
“Fuck off.”
“Draven,” Indy chastised gently, then swirled more pasta around her fork. “We are guests in their home. Be nice.”
“Yeah, dude, be nice.”
Back and forth the boys bickered, laughed, teased, and generally drove each other crazy. Indy loved every second of it. When operators knew her to be CIA, they rarely included her in much. She’d forgotten how much fun dinner with a crowd could be. Even if Draven was grumpy and possessive, dang it was good for a girl’s ego to have the man she was in love with get all kinds of territorial.
By the time they made it to dessert she was convinced she wouldn’t be able to eat another bite… until she saw the gelato and changed her mind. Maybe her big toe had some room for that, because her belly was currently stuffed.
“Cheesecake?” Draven peered at the bowl. “You made cheesecake gelato?”
“Yeah, I’ve owed it to you since Kabul.” Gunnar lifted one shoulder. “I always pay my debts.”
She was sure there was a story there about that. Although from what she was seeing tonight, it was probably a bet that Draven won. She spooned a mouthful of the gelato into her mouth and flavor exploded over her tongue. “Oh, wow. That’s yummy.” She definitely had room for this. Zero questions asked. “I am going to need your recipe.”
“Sorry, no can do. It’s classified.”
“Give her the recipe, Gunnar.”
“Hell no.” Gunnar gave Draven a shit eating grin. “I have neither the time nor the inclination to submit the paperwork to declassify it.”
“I’ll help you with the dishes.” She’d have offered anyway, but figured it didn’t hurt to see if that held any sway over his decision.
“No, Ma’am.” He shook his head and spoke around a mouth full of dessert. “In case you didn’t figure it out, loser does the dishes.”
“No wonder you pulled out the big guns and provided cheesecake gelato.” Draven started to point his spoon at Gunnar, then swiftly changed his mind when a drip of gelato landed on the tablecloth. “You don’t want to do dishes.”
“Dishes are why I have younger brothers.” Gunnar smirked at said brothers’ protests. “The dishwashers in this house are called Colt, Remi, and Talon.”
“Only if she says your dishes were best,” Remi reminded him.
“They are gonna bicker for a bit,” Draven whispered in her ear. “Or someone is going to flick gelato at someone.”
She eyed Remi as he positioned his spoon. “If he does, then he loses by default,” she said loud enough for him to hear. “Because it would be a damn shame to waste such yummy goodness by flicking it at his brother.”
“Damn. You’re mean,” Remi grumbled and went back to his gelato.
Draven scraped his bowl clean and pushed it away from him, patting his belly. “So, which dish was your favorite?” He draped his arm over her shoulders. “If you put them out of their misery, we should have time to take a walk before we go back to bed.”
She shivered at the promise in his voice. Going back to bed sounded awesome. Walking, not so much. But she knew sleeping before at least attempting to walk off such an awesome meal was asking for trouble. “Do you even have to ask?” She realized how it sounded and winced. “Sorry, boys, but… cheesecake gelato for the win.”
Gunnar whooped in triumph, and even though his ego didn’t need any more stroking, she grinned when he threw his arms straight up. “Yes.”
Remi narrowed his eyes at her. “Damn it. And you leave tomorrow, so we can’t even have a rematch.”
“Boh,” Colt growled, clearly a habit he’d picked up from living in Italy.
Talon pouted dramatically, making her laugh. “I thought you liked me.” He got to his feet and started gathering plates. “I’ll grab coffee.”
“None for me or I’ll never sleep.”
“Do you want tea instead?”
She shook her head. “No, but thank you. I’ll stick with water for now.” This evening was just what she’d needed. There was nothing quite like relaxing with friends to wash the horrors of war off your skin. Now that they’d finished eating, she tucked one foot under her and settled into her chair. “It’s so beautiful here.”
“Yeah,” Draven agreed. “And best of all, there are no freaking mosquitoes.”
She’d noticed that too. Usually eating on the terrace in Italy resulted in being covered in mosquito bites. Tonight, she didn’t have one, and she hadn’t had to slap them away from her either. “Why is that?”
“We screened in the porch.” Gunnar pointed behind her. “But painted them black so they don’t stand out so much.”
Now that he pointed them out, she could see them. “It worked, you can barely see them.”
“It also helps that they’re alarmed,” Draven chimed in. “Even two extra seconds of warning is enough when it comes down to it.”
“Damn straight.”
She noticed Gunnar didn’t deny it. But she wouldn’t expect anything less than alarms in an operator’s home. Although if she lived here, she’d trip them at least a couple of times a day. As she listened to Draven and Gunnar catching up, she finally could relax. With Draven here, she’d didn’t have to worry. He would make sure she was protected if need be. She refused to think of all the time in the future she now had to relax. That was a tomorrow problem. For right now, she was going to sip her water and enjoy watching the sunset over La Spezia.