King Me (Forever Wilde 7)

King’s jaw tightened. “The couple never gave their permission for their most intimate expressions of love to be shared with the world. I met a woman on a train in Warsaw who told me a story about her grandmother who had written diligently to her husband while he was in the trenches. Their entire love story lived in those letters, but her grandfather got bombed out of the building he was taking shelter in. His knapsack was left behind, so he assumed the letters were gone forever, burned up in a fire. It wasn’t until a vacation for their retirement that they saw them there in the museum. They asked for them back and were refused.”

He looked down at me with a small smile. “You see, they couldn’t prove the letters were theirs, so it was a nonstarter.”

This was an area where King and I would most likely never agree. “So you just believed her story. No need for corroboration, no verification of identification, nothing?”

King’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oh ye of little faith. I surveilled the old couple and witnessed on several occasions them calling each other very specific terms of endearment. The same terms found in the letters in the museum. If I took you there today, to the nursing home where only the wife still lives, you would know in an instant that she is the one he wrote so lovingly about in his journal. If only you could have seen the looks on their faces when their daughter presented them with the mysterious box that had arrived in the mail. One of the best moments of my life.”

I blew out a breath. “A romantic criminal. Just my luck.”

King chuckled and leaned over to kiss my forehead. “A stereotypical police officer. Just my luck.”

I pulled him down on top of me until I could get my hands all over his naked body again. While I envisioned squeezing out another round of orgasms before sliding happily into a coma, King apparently had other ideas.

“Now it’s your turn.”

I blinked up at him. “What do you mean?”

“Tell me about your last serious relationship.”

20

King

I wasn’t sure there was anything more fun than catching Agent Stoic off guard.

“Uhhh,” he hedged.

“Mm-hm. Getting a little taste of your own medicine now, aren’t you?” I teased.

“I can’t think with your dick wiggling all over me.”

There was absolutely zero things sexier than the word dick said in Falcon’s deep voice. And the dick agreed.

“Want me to get off?” I asked.

“Yes, but not in the way you mean,” he growled.

“Are you kidding? I’m beat. This is all just bullshit posturing. There’s no train left in my station, buddy. Find another way of getting there.”

Falcon’s eyes crinkled as his intense expression softened. “I don’t like traveling solo. Much prefer my favorite copilot.”

“Now you’re simply changing the subject in order to get us off on a tangent. Focus. Love life history. Go.”

I slid off him but stayed close, burrowing into his side and resting my head on his chest so I could keep one arm around his middle. He was warm and solid, not to mention he smelled good, and I loved feeling the rumble of his voice against my cheek.

His hands toyed with my hair while he spoke.

“I dated a man named Luca for six years.”

“Holy shit,” I blurted. “What happened?”

“We didn’t want the same things.”

I tilted my head up so he could see me roll my eyes. “Elaborate.”

“I guess I pressured him to settle down and he didn’t like that,” Falcon said.

“Pressured, how?”

Falcon sighed. A few of his fingers drew lazy designs on my back. “I bought a house. It was something I’d been wanting us to do together for several years, but he was never ready. I’ve always been the kind of guy who wants to settle down. It’s part of the reason I picked a job at the bureau where I wouldn’t have to move around or be gone for long stretches of time.”

“And Luca didn’t want the picket fence?”

“Guess not. He said he did. Kept saying it was just a matter of timing. There was always something to wait for. A big project at work to complete or a sibling’s wedding to get through. And then he’d be ready to look at houses and settle down. I finally decided that he simply didn’t want the hassle of making decisions. So I picked a house I knew he’d love, and I surprised him.”

“Wow,” I said.

“Yeah. Stupid. Never do that to somebody.”

I shifted to look at him again. “I disagree. Falcon, that’s an amazing gesture, and there are plenty of people out there who would have loved you taking the decision out of their hands.”

“Name one,” Falcon said.

“My sister MJ. If her girlfriend surprised her with a house picked out to her tastes, she’d be like, ‘Thank god. The last thing I wanted to do was spend hours looking at other people’s shit.’”