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“Set up surveillance for this yourself. We still haven’t figured out who bugged the truck, but if there’s someone in our camp who shouldn’t be, I don’t want our plans getting back to the McGuires.”
Aiden nods. “Agreed. The next few days are going to be important. Don’t let anything slip to your houseguest that could do us in.”
I arch a brow at how cheeky he’s getting. “The same goes for you and pillow talk with Siobhan. Nothing is said to her that doesn’t involve her directly in the capacity of her job.”
Aiden rolls his eyes. “Fine.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Laine
Iwake up content, which for me is unsettling.
Growing up, there was never time to lounge around. The neighborhood was a challenge to be navigated, as was life itself.
As a law student, I was driven to excel. It wasn’t good enough to do well in my classes. I wanted to be at the top of my game.
And since marrying Marco and working my way up in the firm, I fought to never be seen as the trophy wife I sometimes felt they saw me as.
So, I would get up, work out, dress to impress and I would strut those four-inch Louboutin heels down the marble corridors of the courthouse and turn heads.
But lying here, I’m strangely content.
“Knock, knock. Are you decent?”
I sit up in bed, my heart tripping at the sound of Tag outside my door. “Come in.”
The door opens, and he slides inside like the dreamy, dark shadow he is. He’s devastatingly handsome in all black, his ebony business slacks and dress shirt highlighting how finely toned his body is beneath.
He catches me drooling and a wily grin spreads across his perfect face. “I hope I didn’t disturb you?”
“Not at all. I was just laying here wondering when last I woke content to simply greet the day.”
He closes the door behind him. “And what answer did you come up with?”
“Honestly, I couldn’t remember a time when I ever felt so at peace. Weird, right? Given the mess that is my life on two continents, it’s bizarre that I woke up rested and relaxed.”
He strides over and climbs onto the other side of the bed. “Maybe the universe is telling you something.” I don’t miss the suggestive tone in his voice as he stretches out on the bed beside me. “Maybe for right now, you are exactly where you’re meant to be.”
I lay back down and roll onto my side to face him. “What’s this? Tag Quinn is a romantic?”
He chuckles. “Not usually, no.”
“Then why do you care? I was a bar fling that went sideways. No fault. No foul. You have enough going on in your life right now that it would be smart for you to send me off so you can focus on what you need to do.”
I hear the words coming out of my mouth and while I believe them, the idea of walking away from this man makes something ache deep in my belly.
He raises his fingers and plays with a long strand of hair along my temple and cheek. “You are more than a bar fling gone sideways.”
I wouldn’t be if he’d let me walk away.
His finger trails along my cheek to my lips and when he brushes across the seam of my mouth, I open and give him a little nip. “I’m a stranger.”
“Aye, perhaps, but you are also intelligent, beautiful, and forgive me for saying, but a bit of a work in progress. I like that about you.”
I chuckle. “You like that my life is a shitshow at the moment? You have strange turn-ons.”
He shifts his touch over the cotton sleeve on my shoulder. “Speaking of turn-ons. Why are you sleeping in my shirt?”
