Page 43 of Four Calling Birds

I gave a little laugh, pulling Mack’s jacket tighter around me. Brett’s little black-clad men were walking silently in the darkness, loading black body bags into the bread truck, as we jaw jacked on the porch. I didn’t know how I felt about that.

“It’s your choice, kiddo,” Brett said. “But this,” he nodded to the door behind me, and the man who was now absent from the window, “has been weighing you down the entire time I’ve known you. Isn’t it time you two hashed it out? It’s Christmas, for fuck’s sake.”

I blushed, wondering how long Brett had known that Mack was on my mind. I thought I had hid it so well. I kept my nose clean, my head down, and did my job with the Scorpio Network. I tried to keep my personal life out of it.

“I don’t want to stop working,” I finally said. “With Mack retired, someone needs to bring home the bacon. Upkeep and repairs on this house, and the rest of the property, aren’t cheap.”

“Tell me about it,” Brett said, with an annoyed roll of his eyes. “Have you seen the cost of lumber lately?” He lifted his head, looking up to the sky. “I was trying to build a guest house for my son-in-law, and the prices were just astronomical.” His smile faded, as he placed his hand in his pockets. “Listen, we have to put you on admin anyway. You’ve been burned. I can’t use you undercover. Not for a while, at least. Maybe not ever.”

That seemed ideal for me. They’d ship me a computer, and we’d carve out a part of the house to make sure that I met certain security guidelines. Then I’d be able to be home with the kids. I’d have time to untangle the mess they had all made.

Then my head popped up as I remembered his last statement.

“You mean a guest house for Rose and her husband, right?” Surely, he wasn’t building a housejustfor his son-in-law. But it was hard to tell with Brett.

“Nope. Just the son-in-law. Rose and the babies can live in the house with me.” Brett gave me a small smirk. “Since the cost of lumber went up, the son-in-law gets to live in a doghouse.”

“Jesus, Brett,” I put my hand up to my face, rubbing the spot between my brows.

“He should be grateful I let him live.”

I rolled my eyes, turned back to the house, and with a wave over my shoulder, went back inside.

Before I shut the door, I heard Brett call out.

“Holy fuck-cicles, this place is frigid as fuck.” With his load of F-bombs, he stomped away. The bread truck started. The back of its doors slammed, and the men in black disappeared, leaving nothing but the quiet sound of the wind in its wake.

25. The End

Mack

IletGoosecrashin the guest room. Taz was tending to Griff in the hospital. Despite their protests, I knew neither of them would want it any other way. Veder stayed in the barn like some kind of feral cat. So that left me and Bo alone on the couch, waiting for the ax to fall.

She went and talked to Brett.

I remembered the last time that happened. The aftermath.

She was wearing my jacket that was too big. My slippers, which were also too big. I wondered if that was the last time I’d ever see my clothes on her. And why did that devastate me? Why was seeing a woman in my clothes suddenly a desire? Like it somehow marked her as mine?

When she returned, she smiled. “Let’s go to bed?”

The Forget Me Not was still around her neck. But, with bitterness, I looked at her hand which was still bare of any ring. We were still in this purgatory of being married, but also not…

The danger that made her lean into me was gone. Once again, the only thing that tied us together was a piece of paper that was a signature away from being useless.

I nodded, getting up from the couch. Bo groaned, following behind me as I trudged to the bed. She was already there, slipping under the covers, pulling them up to her neck. Bo took his place on the rug, and I tookmyplace spooning Lotte from behind. This was how we belonged, really. The three of us. Just like old times.

I started to pull the shirt off her, and she moaned.

“You’re not generating any body heat, sweetheart,” I whispered to her. Her body was still struggling to get her warm. “It’ll be better if we’re skin to skin.”

Even if it fucking killed me to do so. To feel her against my bare chest? To feel her back against me would be agony. If she placed her breasts anywhere near me, I’d swoop in and take them in my mouth. I might be a good man. I mightknowthat making love to her right now when her body was so desperate to recover from the evening’s activity was wrong. That I might actually make her worse… but I’m also human. A human with a cock. A cock that did not give a fuck about anything but being between her legs.

So, I had put on a pair of pajama bottoms. It was a small flannel barrier that should keep me in check.

Self-preservation at its finest.

I got her down to nothing but a pair of panties, and I curled her against me. Even when we were under the covers, her skin felt cool to the touch. But she was sweating, and shivering. So, the worst had passed. If we got her through the next few hours, and got her to a normal temperature, she’d be alright.

---