Page 46 of Right With You
“Would pizza be okay for dinner? I got groceries today but I’m exhausted and tomorrow will be a long day. I’d love to just sit on the couch and watch a movie with you.”
How had he just verbalized what felt like a fantasy?
His hopeful expression could’ve convinced me to do just about anything, but this? Absolutely.
“That sounds perfect. Yes, please.”
Ten minutes later, we’d ordered the pizza and both changed into our lounge clothes. I had bright pink sweatpants, a black T-shirt, and a sweatshirt overtop while he’d chosen some dark gray jogger-style sweatpants and a soft-looking black T-shirt. Inevitably, he looked incredible in his more relaxed clothing, and I had to make a personal choice not to ogle his assets when he walked past me to get the remote.
Extremely difficult. The man was an absolute work of art and between the scruff, the shirt stretching across his biceps and chest, and the style of those somehow slouchy and yet fitted sweats, I was doomed.
His shirt looked so soft, and the way it dropped down from his pecs like there was nothing but brick wall between there and the waistband of his pants had me swiping a hand across the blanket resting on the back of the couch and imagining it being the stretch of territory that lay under his shirt.
“What are you in the mood for?”
My head snapped up and heat exploded on my cheeks.
There’s no way he can know what you were just thinking about.
Nope. Couldn’t be possible. And yet, what was I in themoodfor? Yikes. A question I couldn’t answer.
He studied me, his head tipped to one side, and added, “I mean to watch—what kind of movie?”
“Right. Yeah. Um, action? Something action-y. With cars.”
So that went well.
Totally normal response.
He chuckled softly. “How about a Mission Impossible movie? I heard your friend Winnie’s pretty into those.”
“Oh, that girl is obsessed. Yes, let’s do that.”
There was always a female lead and some nice tension between her and Ethan Hunt, but if we stuck to the first movie, it was pretty low-key. I couldn’t handle seeing a romance and having any kind of kissing scenes while sitting in a room with this man in that state of dress.
He sat at the other end of his sectional couch and pulled up the movie to stream it. Before long, the pizza arrived, and we chatted along with the movie. He made notes about how realistic some of the spy craft was, and it hit me for the first time since all of this started that Luc was a hard core ex-special ops soldier who actually knew stuff aboutspy craft.What?
“Okay, can we stop for a sec? I’m just realizing I know nothing about what you did in the military and that’s a big gaping hole in the story if I’m clueless about that. You were in for more than a decade, right?”
He nodded, his face unreadable. “Fourteen years by the time I got out.”
“You didn’t think about retiring like some of the guys?”
That’d been what Bruce, Tristan, Adam, and Beast had all done. I thought I’d heard Wilder Saint had started Saint Security right when he got out, and Bruce joined him a while later. Kenny was too young to retire, but he’d been injured so I’d always figured that made the difference for him.
“I got in a bit later than most of them. Wilder joined when he was seventeen, Bruce when he was about that, and I didn’t get there until nearly twenty-one.”
I laughed. “Practically an old man,” I said, marveling at the bravery it would take anyone to dive into military service, let alone someone who’d hardly become an adult.
“Ultimately, I wanted permanence, and I couldn’t see myself staying if Beast, Barbie, and Stone were leaving. When Stone brought it up, Barbie and I were on board. Beast had already planned on leaving since he’d clinched retirement around the same time Bruce did. Plus, I don’t need the retirement pension or healthcare that comes with hitting twenty thanks to my mother’s life insurance policy and other assets, so that gave me a lot of freedom to leave many don’t have.”
His eyes dropped to his hands and something about the movement made me ask, “Does that embarrass you?”
He exhaled sharply. “No. I’m not ashamed of the wealth my family has, so much as I feel strongly it istheirs.But I have repeatedly and consistently benefited from it, and with the trust, I’d still have more money than most people can imagine managing”—he cringed—“and then I say things like that and I sound like a total ass.”
I laughed at the dismay on his face. “You do. You really do.”
He smiled and it felt like the temperature went up ten degrees. Goodness, he was handsome, and that self-deprecation paired with acknowledging his privilege… it was deadly.
