Page 12 of My Special Ops Neighbor (Neighborhood Hotties #4)

O ne year later

"Vincent, if you don't stop rearranging the security cameras, I'm going to reprogram them to only show infomercials," Yvette called from the kitchen of their Georgetown townhouse.

"The angle on the northeast corner was off by three degrees," came his voice from outside, slightly muffled by whatever ladder climbing he was doing. "Three degrees could mean the difference between—"

"Between catching a squirrel stealing bird seed and catching an actual threat.

I know." She shook her head with fond exasperation.

Even on Saturday mornings, Vincent couldn't resist tinkering with their defenses.

It was one of the things she'd learned to love about him—his complete inability to truly relax when it came to her safety.

She wandered to the doorway just as he climbed down from his ladder, and her breath still caught a little at the sight of him.

A year later, and she was still amazed that this incredible man was hers.

He looked up and caught her staring, and the smile that spread across his face made her want to throw him down and have her way with him.

"See something you like?" he asked, setting down his tools.

"Maybe." She was wearing nothing but his Marine Corps t-shirt, and she didn't miss the way his eyes darkened as he took in the sight. "But it's Saturday morning, and you promised me a day off from Fisher-Benoit Investigations."

Vincent moved toward her with that predatory grace she found irresistible, pulling her into his arms the moment he reached her. "You're right. No more security adjustments, no financial forensics, no criminal conspiracies."

Yvette felt herself melt against him as he nuzzled her neck, breathing in the scent of his soap mixed with the morning air. "What did you have in mind for our day off?"

"Well, I was thinking we could start with breakfast that doesn't come from a tactical MRE, then maybe visit that art gallery opening I mentioned, and tonight.

.." She trailed off, pressing closer and enjoying the way his arms tightened around her.

"Tonight I have plans for you that definitely don't involve computers or weapons. "

"I like your plans." His voice had gone raspy in that way that never failed to make her wet. Then he kissed her softly, and she was reminded all over again why she'd fallen so hard for this man.

"Though I should mention that Agent Bates called while you were in the shower," he said when they broke apart. "Some federal judge is getting death threats, and they need protection for his daughter."

"And?" Yvette could already tell from his expression that he'd handled it.

"And I told her we're booked solid for the next six months." The grin spreading across his face was completely unrepentant, and she had to laugh. "I may have also mentioned that we charge double for witness protection cases because they're boring."

"You did not." But she could see from his expression that he absolutely had.

"I did. Though I did give her the name of that bodyguard who worked the senator's wife case last month. Jonah something. He specializes in protective details for difficult clients."

"Jonah Bauer," Yvette supplied, impressed despite herself. Vincent had become remarkably good at managing their caseload to protect their personal time. "Good call. He's got the patience for babysitting duty." She stood on her toes to kiss him again. "Now, about that breakfast..."

"Already on it."

Yvette watched him move to the stove where she could now see he'd been making pancakes. Everything about the way he moved still fascinated her—the way he seemed aware of everything around him even when focused on a simple task like cooking.

"Blueberry, with real maple syrup," he said, flipping pancakes with the same precision he used for everything else. "Not the tactical substitute you tried to sneak into the pantry."

"Hey, that tactical syrup has a five-year shelf life."

"And tastes like it." He plated the pancakes with a flourish that made her grin. "We're having a normal Saturday morning like normal people who don't regularly get shot at."

Yvette settled at their kitchen island, perfectly content to watch him finish preparing their breakfast. Their townhouse was a perfect blend of her organized chaos and his tactical precision—bookshelves filled with financial crime texts next to weapon maintenance manuals, her multiple computer monitors arranged alongside his communication equipment.

It shouldn't have worked, but somehow it was exactly right.

"You know what I love about our life?" she asked, stealing a piece of bacon from his plate when he set it down.

"The exciting travel to exotic courtrooms?"

"The fact that we're exactly who we're supposed to be.

" She gestured around their kitchen, taking in the comfortable domesticity mixed with their professional equipment.

"A year ago, I was a lonely forensic accountant who thought trusting people was a liability.

Now I'm living with a man who thinks installing motion sensors in the garden is romantic foreplay. "

"Those motion sensors are very romantic," Vincent protested, and she could see he was trying not to laugh. "They keep you safe, which is the most romantic thing I can think of."

"See? Perfect for each other." Yvette felt that familiar surge of contentment that came from being with someone who understood her completely. "Besides, I've gotten used to your security obsessions. They're actually kind of charming."

"Just charming?"

She could hear the mock hurt in his voice and had to bite back a smile. "Charming and effective. Did you know our house is now rated as more secure than most federal buildings?"

"I may have gone a little overboard with the upgrades," Vincent admitted, and she caught the slight flush on his cheeks.

"A little? Honey, our doorbell requires biometric identification."

"And yet somehow you still managed to disable it last week when the pizza delivery guy couldn't get in."

"That's what you get for dating a forensic accountant." Yvette reached across to steal another piece of bacon, enjoying the game they played. "We're very good at finding backdoors in security systems."

Vincent caught her hand before she could retreat, bringing her fingers to his lips in a gesture that made desire spiral through her. "I love your backdoors."

"Vincent Benoit, that was terrible."

"But it made you laugh."

He was right—everything about him made her laugh.

Or made her want to jump him. Usually both.

"Everything you do makes me laugh. Or makes me want to jump you.

Sometimes both." She leaned across the island to kiss him properly, tasting maple syrup and Vincent.

"Have I mentioned lately that I'm crazy about you? "

"Only every day. But I never get tired of hearing it."

The peaceful moment was interrupted by the buzzing of Yvette's work phone. She glanced at the display and couldn't suppress her groan.

"Don't answer it," Vincent said immediately, and she could hear the protective note creeping into his voice.

"It's the pharmaceutical case. The CEO we've been tracking."

"Still don't answer it."

"What if he's trying to flee the country?"

"Then he'll still be trying to flee the country on Monday." Vincent moved around the island with clear intent, positioning himself between her and the phone. "Today is about us. No criminals, no conspiracies, no financial fraud that results in mass casualties."

Yvette felt herself wavering. She'd spent so many years prioritizing work over everything else, but Vincent had taught her that some things were more important than the next case.

"You're right." She deliberately turned the phone face down, making a show of it. "Marcus Webb can wait until Monday to discover that I've frozen all his assets and alerted international law enforcement to his travel patterns."

"You already did that?"

She caught the note of admiration in his voice and felt a little thrill of pride.

"Yesterday, after you left to buy groceries.

I may have also sent his criminal financial records to the FDA, the Justice Department, and three investigative journalists.

" She shrugged, trying to look casual. "Just in case he thought about running. "

Vincent's laugh made her pulse jump. She loved that sound, loved that she could surprise him even after a year together. "I love how devious you are."

"I prefer 'thorough.'"

"I prefer you naked."

"Vincent!" But it made her wet and her nipples hard.

"What? You said tonight you had plans that didn't involve computers or weapons. I'm just expressing my enthusiasm for those plans."

Desire tingled over her nerve endings when he looked at her like that. "Well, since you're so enthusiastic..."

"The art gallery can wait," Vincent said immediately, reaching for her.

"We should at least finish breakfast."

"Breakfast is overrated."

"Food is fuel for the body, which you need for—" Her words were cut off as Vincent kissed her with the kind of hungry intensity that made thinking impossible.

"For what?" he asked against her lips, and she could feel his smile.

"For carrying me upstairs and showing me exactly how enthusiastic you are."

She felt rather than saw him lift her onto the kitchen counter, gasping as he stepped between her thighs. His hands found the hem of his t-shirt she was wearing, and she shivered at the promise in his touch.

"I love Saturday mornings," he said.

"Just Saturday mornings?"

"I love every morning I wake up next to you." His voice grew serious despite their playful situation, and she felt her heart skip at the emotion she could see in his eyes. "I love every day we build together, every case we solve, every criminal we take down."

"I love you too," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and marveling again at how perfectly they fit together. "Even when you're being disgustingly romantic."

"Disgustingly romantic is my specialty."

"Along with tactical planning, weapons maintenance, and making me feel like the luckiest woman alive."

When Vincent kissed her this time, Yvette could taste the promise of their entire future. He kissed her like he had all the time in the world to love her, like she was the most precious thing he'd ever held.

As he lifted her from the counter, she wrapped her legs around his waist and let herself get lost in the sensation of being carried by this incredible man who'd changed her entire world.

The art gallery could wait. The pharmaceutical CEO could wait.

Everything could wait except this—the two of them, together, building the life they'd fought so hard to protect.

Vincent was carrying her toward the stairs, and Yvette's last coherent thought was that she'd finally found her perfect partner in every sense of the word. Someone who challenged her mind, protected her body, and loved her heart with unwavering devotion.

They'd started as neighbors who barely knew each other and become partners who could conquer the world.

Some Saturday mornings were just perfect that way.

Don’t miss the next Neighborhood Hotties book, My Bodyguard Neighbor, featuring Jonah Bauer and Holly Reese.