Black Truth, White Lies (Black Hat Bureau 3)

11

The dueling scents of bacon and sausage roused me from a sound sleep, but I couldn’t move, and that—more than the promise of breakfast—snapped my eyes open. As the night rushed back to me, I couldn’t fault the view.

Asa was a dark god in slumber. Full lips slightly parted. Bright eyes closed. Errant hairs tickling his cheek.

And, yeah, I had it bad if those were the thoughts circling my head upon waking.

A twitch of his eyelids and his lashes parted, his smile slow in coming but brilliant upon arrival.

“Morning.” His hands, which had migrated to my butt during the night, squeezed. “How did you sleep?”

The press of his thigh between my legs gave me hot flashes. “Hmm?”

“There are children present,” Clay called from the kitchen. “Keep it PG in there.”

“PG-13,” Colby contradicted him, not for the first time. “I’m not a baby.”

The bickering warmed me for entirely different reasons, and I nuzzled under Asa’s jaw. “Thank you.”

His clever fingers traced a back pocket on my jeans. “For?”

“This.” I burrowed closer. “That.” I slid my hand down his chest. “Everything.”

“Ace.” Clay flung a potholder over the couch. “Cut that out and get in here.”

I bit my lip to hold in a laugh over him getting in trouble, but a second potholder hit me in the cheek.

“Rue,” Clay warned, certainty I was the instigator in his tone. “That goes double for you.”

Untangling required more coordination than I ought to be forced to master so early in the day. Asa got a leg out, planted it on the floor, and finished extricating himself from me. He ignored the evidence of his arousal, which made me wonder if that was a morning occurrence for him or if I was to blame.

Honestly?

I wanted the credit.

It surprised me how much.

“You let me sleep in.” I wriggled upright on the warm cushions. “All part of your evil plan?”

“Yes.” Clay came to check on us. “I stole his phone so you two would rest.”

On reflex, Asa checked his back pocket. “How…?”

“You don’t sleep well when we’re away from her.” He shrugged. “She hardly sleeps at all, but she’ll rest if you’re here. I need you both sharp for this. We can afford a late start.”

“A late start?” I jumped to my feet. “How late?”

“The girls are already at work.” Clay held up his hands, palms out. “With Aedan.”

Scooping the potholders off the floor, I hurled them at his head. “You knew I wanted to talk to him first.”

“No,” he corrected me as the projectiles bounced off his face, “you wanted to threaten him.”

“Same difference.” I reached for a pillow on the couch and flung that too. “The girls—”

“—are going to be fine.” He caught the pillow and bonked me on the head with it. “I promise. I threatened his life, his manhood, his future children. I hit all the high points.”

“He did.” Colby swooped into the room, and Asa sat on the couch. Quickly. “I helped.”