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S tone’s eyes stayed glued to Juliana as she jogged up the stairs. He liked the view. And hoped that one day (soon), he’d have a chance to explore it with more than his eyes. She seemed into him—after all, she’d given him two kisses. Cheek kisses, but he wouldn’t soon forget the feel of her soft skin against his, the gentle brush of her lips, or the slight scent of her perfume—earthy and fresh, but not floral.

When she disappeared around the corner, he exhaled, relieved she’d agreed to head to the clubhouse. Staying there overnight made sense, too, but maybe he’d suggest his place. His truck was registered with one of the businesses the Falcons owned and wouldn’t be tied to his home address. Even if Kevin ran his plates, they wouldn’t find him. It would be a sweet kind of torture having her there, but it would also give them time together in a way they hadn’t been able to manage in the past few months. Sure, she’d be in hiding from two potential killers, so not an ideal situation, but a not-so-small part of him puffed up at being the one she turned to for help. Depending on how the rest of the day went, he’d propose it if it seemed right.

He gritted his teeth at that last thought. There was nothing right about this situation. Thankfully, he and his brothers could fix that. They weren’t like Charley’s family with the full strength of a powerful company behind them, but they had years of spec ops training that would enable them to protect her, investigative skills that could help them make sense of what she’d heard, and they had contacts—lots of contacts.

Bringing his phone to life, he officially got the ball rolling.

“I heard Juls ran into a bit of trouble,” Mantis, their president, said as soon as the line connected.

“She overheard two public officials talking about killing someone who happens to be blackmailing them,” Stone summarized.

A beat of silence filled the line, then Mantis let out a low whistle. “Probably not how she saw her day going when she woke up yesterday morning.”

“Thank fucking god she’s as smart and as quick as she is,” Stone replied, still in awe of her sharp thinking and use of her audiobook as a cover.

“Agree. You’re bringing her to the clubhouse?”

“Yeah, we’ll leave in ten minutes.”

“What do you need? Who do you need?”

And that right there was why the Falcons would always be his family—his real family. “Viper’s watching the motel. I could use Monk and Philly to help investigate. Juliana already identified both men she heard speaking, but we need to figure out who the third is, what the connection is between them, and how the blackmail comes into play. Once we have that, we can make a plan to end it.”

“Done,” Mantis said. “I’ll pull them from the rosters for the next few days and let them know they’re needed at the clubhouse.” The Falcons owned several businesses, and the men rotated through them as needed. “If you need more of us, let me know,” Mantis added.

“Roger that,” he said as footsteps sounded on the stairs. He turned to see Juliana, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder and her phone in hand. “Gotta go,” he added before hanging up.

“Let me take that,” he said, striding toward her and reaching for the bag.

Looking up from her phone, she shifted away from him. The move seemed more instinctual than intentional and he stilled, his hand out, leaving the choice to her.

“It’s not heavy, I have it,” she said. “Really,” she added as she stepped off the last riser.

He dropped his hand, disappointment swirling in his gut. Someone once told him that, statistically, relationships fell apart more often because of the little things, not the big things. An interesting comment he hadn’t given much thought to. Only now he found himself wondering if relationships were also made by the little things. The little things that couples did for each other to help, to make things easier, to make them smile. Carrying her bag wasn’t a big deal, but not carrying it felt a little like he’d failed to make something easier for her and it didn’t sit well.

“You’re overthinking, Simon,” she said, her blue eyes locked on his.

“Probably,” he conceded.

“About?”

“I want to carry your bag because you don’t need to lug it around, but I also know you’re perfectly capable of carrying your own bag and want to respect your desire to do that,” he said. Juliana had been nothing but straightforward and open with him; she deserved the same from him—no matter how weird it might make him seem.

A smile appeared first in her eyes, then on her lips. She handed the bag over. “Between your overthinking and my bounce-house-like brain, we’re quite a pair. I’m in no way attached to the bag and only kept it because it was already over my shoulder. And so we’re clear, I don’t view you taking it as any sort of statement on what I’m capable of. It’s just something nice you’re doing for me that I am going to let you do.”

He grinned and slung the bag over his shoulder. His brothers were used to his overthinking but usually let him keep it to himself. He liked that Juliana wanted to know, that she wanted him to talk to her.

He had a free hand, and the urge to slide it to the nape of her neck, pull her forward, and kiss her was strong. She was a tall woman, almost five foot ten, and he’d barely have to bend to touch his lips to hers. With her hair down, the silky strands would brush the back of his hand. Maybe he’d run his lips over the soft skin of her cheek before closing them over her lips. Or kiss each of the three tiny freckles she had below her left eye.

“You’re doing it again, Simon,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper. He pulled his gaze from her slightly parted lips to her eyes. Her dilated pupils made the blue seem even more vibrant against the black.

“I want to kiss you,” he said. Her chest rose as she drew in a quick but soft breath. Desire rolled off her in waves, and it felt better than any drug he’d ever been given—even the ones the doctors in Landstuhl had piped him full of after surviving first an IED, then an assassination attempt.

“Yes, please,” she said on an exhale.

A powerful craving surged through him. His chest grew taut, and every muscle in his body tightened in anticipation. He considered dropping the bag, but sanity prevailed and he held on. With one of his hands occupied by its weight, he couldn’t get too carried away. Something he suspected would be very easy to do the moment his lips touched hers.

His imagination came to life as he slid his hand under her waterfall of hair and cupped the back of her neck. His thumb brushed the soft skin below her ear, and he held her gaze as he lowered his head. Her eyes fluttered closed and a gentle puff of breath caressed his lips. Millimeters away, he paused, savoring the moment, the anticipation.

Apparently more impatient than he, Juliana leaned forward, closing the distance. His lips met hers, and he had less than two seconds to register their warmth and softness before the jarring ring of a phone startled them apart.

He jerked back, as did Juliana. With his mind a bit jumbled by her proximity, he didn’t immediately recognize the ring.

Then it rang again.

He closed his eyes, muttered a quiet curse, and stepped away from temptation. “I’m sorry,” he said, pulling the device from his pocket. Juliana said nothing, just watched him with her big blue eyes.

Glancing at the screen, he frowned. “Hey, Viper, what’s up?”

“There are two of them,” he said. It took Stone a few beats to catch on.

“Two?” That wasn’t good. Sending one man after Juliana was alarming enough, but two?

“Yeah. Our guy went into the hotel room. Three minutes ago, another one came out. I can’t follow him and keep an eye on the first, so I’m parked here. I got a tracker on the second guy’s car, though.”

Stone didn’t question how Viper had been able to react so fast, he was just grateful he had. “Where is he?”

“Headed your way. Black Dodge Charger, recent model,” he said before rattling off the license plate. “I’d hustle to the clubhouse if you’re not already on your way.”

“We are now,” he said.

“Let me know when you’re there,” he said. Then with a dark chuckle, he added, “This day just got a lot more interesting.”

That was one way of looking at it. He’d think about the bigger picture later, though. Right now, getting Juliana out was his priority. The hotel was only ten minutes away, maybe fifteen, depending on how crowded downtown was. They didn’t have much time.

He slid his phone back into his pocket, then reached for Juliana’s hand. “We have to hustle. The guy from earlier has a friend, and we think he’s on his way here. My truck is parked in the visitor spot. When we get in, I want you to lie low.” As he spoke, he pulled her toward the front door. She slipped on a pair of black flats, wincing as one confined her injured toe, but she didn’t utter a peep of complaint.

“Do you have an alarm?”

She shook her head. “Just the locks,” she answered, holding up her keys. “The bottom will lock on its own. I need to engage the deadbolt.”

He’d talk to her about an alarm later, but for now, he held her hand tight and scanned the area as she turned the key. Once she secured the door, he hustled her to his truck, unlocking the doors as they approached. After setting her bag in the back seat, he made sure she was seated before rounding to the driver’s side.

“It might be overkill, but I’d rather be safe. Can you scoot down below window level?” Juliana’s fair skin went a little whiter at his request, but she nodded and did as asked.

He eased out of the parking spot, then down the drive. A red minivan passed traveling south, then a blue pickup heading north. When the road cleared, he pulled out and fell in behind the pickup.

“How are you doing?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the road, looking for any sign of the Charger.

“Not the most comfortable, but I’m not going to complain. Did you know the first pickup truck was built by Gottlieb Daimler in 1896 in Germany? He was also a pioneer of the internal combustion engine.”

Stone fought a grin. “As in the Mercedes Daimler?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her nod, static leaving strands of her hair clinging to the leather seats. “Benz and Daimler never actually met, but eventually their businesses combined. It’s gone through a lot of changes in over a century, of course. It was Daimler AG until 2022 and now it’s the Mercedes-Benz Group.”

“Not exactly synonymous with pickups anymore,” he pointed out.

“No, but the idea of a powerful engine carries through,” she countered.

It did, and even as he kept a wary eye out for the Charger, he couldn’t help but wonder if all those years ago Gottlieb had envisioned how important trucks and pickups would become to the world—from transportation, to shipping, to fire and rescue. He hoped so.

“We’re passing the ice cream shop, aren’t we?” Juliana asked, pulling his thoughts back from the momentary distraction of random trivia.

He smiled. “We are. You can smell the cones?” The shop made their own and even in the confines of the cab, the sweet scent teased them.

“Yes, and all but taste the chocolate caramel ice cream,” she said, almost on a moan. As soon as he could, he’d buy her a pint. Or a gallon. He might even send someone to pick one up later that afternoon, and they could have it for dessert at his place later.

Later, after they figured out what Juliana had stumbled into, he amended as a Charger came into view. Flickering his gaze to the license plate, he confirmed it was their second man. Resolve took root in Stone’s body as it passed. No one, not “Kevin,” not the dark-haired man with the hook nose behind the wheel of the Charger, not the lieutenant, not the supervisor, no one , would get their hands on Juliana.

Except him. And only in the best of ways.