Page 139 of Dating Goals
Wilde leads us through knee-deep snow, toward an amphibious all-terrain vehicle with massive tires.
“Sit tight,” Wilde says, handing us thermal blankets. “This transport will take you to a secure location in the valley.”
He checks his watch. “I’m heading back up to coordinate the raid. With any luck, we’ll have Nero in custody within the hour.”
“I don’t suppose there’s a cappuccino waiting at this secure location?” Griffin asks, completely serious. “We are in Italy after all.”
I stare at him in disbelief. “We just escaped an evil lair by skiing down a mountain with armed guards chasing us, and you’re thinking about coffee?”
Griffin shrugs, flashing that dimpled smile that makes my stomach do somersaults. “I miss my Timmies.”
“What is…Timmies?” I ask.
“Tim Hortons, of course. Best coffee on the other side of the Atlantic.”
“I beg to differ,” Wilde says, right before shutting the door. He slaps his hand on the driver’s window, signaling to head out, then ambles back through the snow.
The helicopter rotors whir to life as Wilde climbs aboard. Through the thick windows, I watch it lift off and disappear over the mountain ridge, heading back toward the OMBRA fortress.
The big beast of a vehicle we’re in lurches forward, and Griffin immediately drapes an arm around my shoulders, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. My body relaxes into his side.
“So,” he says, his dimples appearing as he grins down at me. “Dating lesson recap. Skiing away from international criminals. Good date activity or bad date activity?”
I laugh despite myself. “I think I’m going to have to fire you as my dating coach. You’re terrible at it.”
“What? Why?” His mock outrage is almost convincing. “I thought the whole rescue from evil lair thing would earn me bonus points.”
“Getting kidnapped wasn’t exactly part of the dating curriculum I signed up for.” I nudge his ribs playfully. “Plus, I’m pretty sure most blind dates don’t go parachuting off a cliff.”
“Poor Thomas doesn’t stand a chance.” Griffin doesn’t look remotely sorry.
“I’m now utterly ruined for boring landscape architects.”
“I maintain I was an excellent coach. My student just fell for the teacher instead of the other guy.”
Through the window, I watch the majestic mountains retreat as we descend into the valley.
“What happens now?” I ask, suddenly serious. “When this is all over?”
Griffin considers this, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Well, I was thinking we could start with that cappuccino.”
“And after that?”
“After that?” He smiles, and I see our future reflected in his eyes. “I think we still need to take down Malcolm Chase. Are you ready for one last adventure?”
“Hmmm. Maybe I’ll sit this one out, if you don’t mind.”
He leans down and kisses my nose. “I don’t mind.”
28
GRIFFIN
It turns out Swiss precision also applies to revenge—executed exactly at 5:30 AM with a side of hot chocolate andschadenfreude.
Once again, I’m freezing my butt off in the snow, preparing a raid on a criminal mastermind. I better not make a habit out of this.
This time, it’s Malcolm Chase’s obscenely ridiculous alpine chateau, and I’m with my ragtag group of friends. Hockey players, wives, and one Irish mobster.
