Page 132 of Silas
She’s silent a moment—the group stays quiet as well, each one sensing her need to think something through.
She turns in my arm to face me more fully, her expression serious. “I need a last name, don’t I? I can’t just be Naomi No Last Name.” Her eyes are soft on mine. “Can I…no.” She drops her gaze. “That’s silly. It’s too soon.”
I know what she was going to say. “I think Naomi Cabot sounds perfect.”
I hear a few gasps, but I only have eyes for her. A tear wells in one of her eyes and then the other, pooling before trickling down. “Silas, I…”
I tug her against me, so her chin rests on my chest, her eyes tilted up to mine. I feel her pulse, erratic and wild. “This whole fucking thing has been a whirlwind, baby. It’s crazy on the face of it. I told you I loved you days after we met. I meant it and I know you mean it.” I let out a long sigh. “Listen. I don’t have anything to offer you but myself—and this place and these people. But I love you. I don’t need to know you for weeks or months or years more to know exactly how I feel about you. I don’t know if I believe in marriage—the only one I’ve ever seen was abusive and loveless. But if you wanna get married, I’ll hire a priest or whatever. You don’t care, all you gotta say is ‘I do,’ right now, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s all that matters. I’ll go buy you the biggest damn ring you’ve ever seen, Naomi, just say the word—”
She cuts me off with a kiss, lifting up on her toes to reach my mouth, curling her hand around my nape to pull me down. She kisses me with everything she’s got, and more.
She kisses me until the others wolf-whistle and cheer, and then she pulls back. “I do.”
“God, I love you,” I whisper. “I do, too.”
She caresses my scalp with her fingertips, smiling up at me with such fierce, quiet love that my heart melts, pouring heat into my veins, and pooling in my balls, hardening me in my jeans.
“I want a wedding, too, though,” she whispers. “I want to be legally your wife. Your real wife. I want your name. I want everything.” She nips at my lower lip playfully. “And a ring. It doesn’t have to be huge though.”
“Holy shit.” This is Kane. “Silas, you got a story to tell, brother.”
I laugh, but sober quickly. “Speaking of brothers…where are Sax and Sol?”
A smooth cool voice answers from behind the group. “They are each individually detained,” Inez says, pushing through the group. “Saxon has encountered troubles in Boston, and Solomon…well, his past has taken him rather further afield.”
I stiffen. “What’s going on? What happened?”
Inez shakes her head. “I have few details. When you three attended your parents’ funeral, it put you back on the radar of your various enemies. I’ve been in contact with Saxon, and he says he can handle it. If he needs help, he’ll call, so of course, we’ll all be on standby. As far as Solomon goes, I only received one encoded message from him, which simply stated that the CIA isn’t quite done with him yet. I do not know what that means, but I have to assume he will find a way to request aid when he requires it.”
“A thousand bucks says he comes back with a woman,” Rev says with a chuckle. “Sol too.”
Lash barks a laugh. “I will not take that wager, my friend, for I believe you are correct. So far, anyone who has left the confines of this club has returned with a lovely woman at his side.”
“You leavin’ next, then?” Chance teases.
Lash glances way up at him. “No, my friend, I do not think I will.”
Chance frowns down at him. “Why, you ain’t up for love?”
Lash’s face closes down. “No.” It’s all he says. He glances at Naomi. “It is quite lovely to meet you, Miss Naomi Cabot.” He bows with a flourish, his bright crimson sash fluttering with the movement. “Please, do not take my abrupt departure personally.” He whirls on his heel and stalks away.
Chance glowers after him. “Was it somethin’ I said?”
“As the only one here who knows something of his past,” Inez says, “I would advise you to stay away from the subject of love with our loyal comrade Lash. It is a sensitive one for him.”
Naomi pushes out of my arms and moves for Inez. “Inez, hi! You’re real, not just a voice on the phone.” She wraps her arms around the other woman.
Inez’s whipcord slender frame goes stone-still, her black bob waving at her chin, black eyes flying wide with shock. Her thin hands with the French-tipped manicure hover in the air above Naomi’s shoulders, fluttering helplessly, and then she awkwardly pats Naomi on the back.
“Yes, um. It is a pleasure to meet you in person, Naomi.” Her voice is stilted, and for the first time since I’ve known her, I see real emotion in her face, in her eyes; I also catch a hint of a Latin accent I’ve never noticed before—it’s present for a handful of words and then gone again. “It is good to see you here safely. You and Silas endured quite an ordeal.”
Naomi lets her go. “You owe me a story.”
Inez backs up out of Naomi’s arms and smooths her hands over her tailored black business suit, adjusting her crisp white button-down, which is opened just enough to show a hint of cleavage. “I remember. Let’s get you settled and then we can talk.”
“You owe Naomi a story?” This is Rev, sounding downright stunned. “What kind of a story?”
“Yeah,” Kane puts in. “None of us ever got a story.”