Page 71 of Stone
“What aren’t they saying?” she asked Charley.
The woman glanced at Mantis. “Noah,” she said.
He shook his head. “It’s not even worth talking about.”
Charley narrowed her eyes. “Talk does not mean action. Do not demean her intelligence or ability to think about this logically.”
Juliana almost laughed at the look on Mantis’s face. Not only had he displeased Charley,butshe also had a point. Whatever that might be.
Mantis’s mouth tightened, his lips thinning in frustration.
“Look, y’all,” she said. “Whatever it is you don’t want to say, you may as well say it because no way in hell are you going to be able to drop it now.”
Charley picked up her drink, flashed Mantis a you-know-she’s-right look, then took a sip.
Simon sighed, Philly’s shoulders slumped, Monk’s head tipped.
Griswold cleared his throat. “They always were a dramatic pack of mostly feral men,” he said. Was that a hint of fondness she’d heard? “Made them good soldiers when the stakes were high, but when they weren’t in the thick of things, a hangnail was the end of the world.” He paused and popped a piece of watermelon into his mouth. After he swallowed, he met and held her gaze. “What they don’t want to say is that the best way to get Lowery or Polinsky talking is for you to offer to have a conversation with them.”
34
Stone ran his fingers through Juliana’s long hair. She lay with her cheek on his chest, her body curled around his, drifting in and out of sleep. It wasn’t that late, but after a much-too-long debate following lunch about next steps, he’d rushed her home and, with an almost unbearable clawing need, he barely let her through the door before he had her up against the wall and was buried deep inside her body. Even though, in the end, they’d agreed to give the FBI—and HICC—time to pursue their investigation, the panic he’d felt when Griswold-the-asshole suggested she lure Lowery into a confession had left his blood boiling. Having her under him—or against him—and hearing her sighs, hearing her call his name, feeling her body take his, was the only way to soothe the beast inside him that had reared its (kind-of-ugly) head.
After that heated encounter, he’d led her upstairs where they’d both changed before heading to the river and the private hot spring. Where he’d seduced her again. Once in the hot spring, where she’d straddled him, and a second time on the blanket when he’d used his tongue and teeth and lips to leave her shaking and sated.
His reaction to the possibility of her in that kind of danger both surprised him and didn’t. He’d never given much thought to his own safety while in the army. He may have done a few reckless things, but they’d always been calculated. And, of course, he’d worried about his teammates. But they’d operated as a team—he knew their skills, their reactions, and their minds almost as well as he knew his own. More to the point, though, while they might not have always known exactly how their targets would react, they weren’t often surprised.
He had none of those comforts when it came to Juliana confronting Lowery—the one they’d identified as the weakest link. He didn’t know how the corrupt politician would react. He didn’t know howJulianawould react—she was really fucking smart and had proven how cool under pressure she could be when she’d first overheard Lowery and Polinsky. He couldn’t risk losing her, though. His teammates had all signed the same documents he had—they’d all been aware that they might not make it out of their service alive. All Juliana had done was accidentally overhear two horrible human beings. She wasn’t trained. She hadn’t signed up for any of this.
She stirred and flattened her hand across his belly. He covered it with his. After returning from the river, they’d fed Sherman, fixed dinner, then eaten outside. By silent agreement, they hadn’t talked about Lowery or Polinsky or Gregor or any of that mess. They’d gone to bed after cleaning up, and once again, he’d sunken into her heat. Only that time it had been slow and tender and he’d never felt such peace as when they moved in sync.
“You’re thinking too much,” she said, her breath sliding over his skin as she spoke.
“Hard not to in the quiet,” he replied, combing his fingers through her hair.
“We all agreed that I’m not going to put myself out as bait, so you don’t need to fret.”
He almost chuckled. His brothers would have burst into laughter if they’d heard her telling him not tofret. None of them were thefrettingsort. Only it appeared, with Juliana, he was.
“For now,” he said. “We agreed for now. Which means there’s alwayslaterto consider.”
She shifted, propping her chin on his chest and looking at him. “Are you really worried about that?”
“Yes,” he answered without hesitation. It might never come to pass, but everything inside him rebelled against the idea of there evenbeinga chance that she might go down that path.
She studied him, then reached up and cupped his cheek. “You are a good man, Simon,” she said before lying back down across his chest.
He dipped his chin and kissed the top of her head. She looked about to drift to sleep again, but her phone buzzed on the bedside table, eliciting a groan.
“Want me to see who it is?” he offered.
Grumpily, she shook her head as she rolled over to grab the device. The sheet slid from her body, and he took a moment to admire the sight. Juliana let out a small, indecipherable sound—interrupting his appreciation—then silenced the vibration and returned her phone to the table.
“Who was that?” he asked as she rolled back over.
She didn’t answer as she got comfortable, tucking herself against him again. “My aunt,” she finally mumbled.
He frowned. “I thought you said you didn’t talk much. Didn’t she call yesterday?”
