Just as I say the words, we hear noises distantly from outside.
“‘But…soft!” Eliot shouts tipsily and near-laughter. “What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun!’”
A wave of laughs come behind him; I’m guessing from other Cobalts as he quotes Romeo and Juliet.
“‘Arise, fair sun—’” He snorts.
They all burst out, snickering.
“Keep going,” Ben laughs.
“Oh God,” Jane wheezes in a laugh. “I have a stitch in my side.”
Surprise = zero
Threat = zero
Me = somewhat amused
Maximoff cracks the glass doors, hushing the outside noise. He stretches out his tense shoulder in a pendulum motion. “I get that the villas are safe,” he says. “But I saw about five hundred drones in the skies—and the last time we thought we were on private property, a drone captured a full-frontal of me.”
Blood simmers just flashing back to that shit storm we blew past in Greece. I’d do anything for that full-frontal to be of me and not him.
I swallow an acidic taste. “That’s not happening again.” I lift my brows at him. “And there were only two drones flying over the villas today, not five-hundred. What’d you score in high school math again?”
His face heats.
I laugh. “You got an F?”
“An A-plus.”
“A-plus,” I repeat with the shake of my head. “Right in front of our son, teaching him how to lie.”
Maximoff glances from me to Ripley. His features fall, brows scrunch, actually looking hurt.
Shit, he’s too good. Probably too good for me. But he’s all mine.
I smile. “I’m messing with you, Maximoff.”
He exhales an annoyed breath and rolls out his neck. “They’ve all been taken care of? The drones, I mean.”
“Shot out of the sky,” I say easily. “There hasn’t been another one spotted since. But there’ll most likely be drones at the actual ceremony, and we can’t do anything about them.”
“That’s fine.” Maximoff is more concerned about privacy surrounding the villas.
I am too, but it’s been tight so far.
Honestly, I’m also relishing in the fact that Owen Erickson—the dermal-pierced temp who hit on me at the bachelor party—isn’t here. As soon as I told Akara and Thatcher what happened, Akara fired him on the spot. He could’ve given him another chance, especially after all the time and effort they put into training him.
But he didn’t.
I appreciate that more than he’ll know. Having good bosses that I completely respect makes this job infinitely easier.
I pick Ripley up and balance him on my waist. He settles down, no longer teary-eyed, and he smacks my tattooed chest with his little palm. I give him a look. “You break it, you buy it, little man.”
He giggles. In my arms.
And he beams up at me with a toothless, effervescent smile that he reserves solely for Maximoff. It rocks me back, just seeing that smile facing me.
Ripley laughs a high-pitched squeal of delight. “Da-da, da-da!”
Okay, my smile could rip my face apart. I glance at Maximoff, and he already sidles beside me, mouth open in shock.
“Wait, did he just…?” Maximoff quiets as Ripley keeps blabbering.
He smashes his soft cheek to my chest. “Da-da, da-da. Da-da!” He giggles at me.
Breath catches in my throat, stunned.
“That was his first word,” Maximoff says with an uncontrollable, uncontained smile. Not even upset the “da-da” was directed at me and not him.
I’m ascending to another plane of happiness. Somewhere pure where he belongs, and Maximoff took me with him. Our eyes meet, and we laugh into bigger smiles.
“Surprised?” I ask him.
“No.” Maximoff skates an arm over my shoulders. “It’s what you always say.”
“You’re a precious smartass?”
“No.” He cringes.
“Pure—”
“Not that,” he forces.
I think for a millisecond, eyeing his smile. “You can’t be first at everything.”
He nods, his gaze pleading kiss me, love me. “Yeah, that.”
We share this quiet moment, and Ripley falls asleep in my arms. After I rest him in a crib, I clasp Maximoff’s waist and draw him towards the bed.
Our lips crash together, and we push and pull. My blood cranks up another ten degrees. He grips my hair, and I cup his perfect ass, his drawstring pants molding him too well.
Maximoff lets out a rough, wanting noise. And he clutches my ass cheek. Our eyes devour as I try to walk him to the bed, and he tries to bring me to the wall.
“Ryke, slow down!” Loren Hale’s sharp voice is unmistakable.
Our heads whip to the terrace doors, and we rip apart. Moving into action. We push onto the terrace, a café table and potted roses on stone. Overlooking a mossy path to the courtyard. Lo and Ryke disappear in the distance.
“Where the fuck are they going?” Maximoff asks.
My gut is saying this is very bad.
Swiftly, we’re back in the room. I clip my radio on my belt and pull a shirt over my head. Attaching the mic to my collar, I splay the earpiece over my shoulder so Maximoff can hear.