“I don’t need your father to cook for me. I can keep well enough on my own.”
He rubs a hand down my thigh. “I know he doesn’t need to but he’s going to—not for you but for me. Give him some time and everything he’ll do will be for you. He’s got an odd way of showing it, but he’s got the biggest heart of anyone you’ll meet.”
Cole doesn’t know my mum and dad well, so I doubt it.
And I plan to be gone before I get the chance to know anyone’s heart.
It’s my turn to boss him. “Go to sleep, Cole. I doubt the chaps at Langley will be pleased if you nap on the job tomorrow because you’re too busy harboring an AWOL MI6. Americans are weird like that.”
“I think it’s safe to say it’s not just Americans.”
No truer words have been spoken in the dead of the night.
“You’re giving me a case of blue balls. If you don’t shut your sweet mouth and go to sleep, I might have to get up and take care of myself.”
That brings back memories I do not need to think about right now.
Or ever.
His voice dips. “You remember.”
I’ll never forget—not until I expel my last breath. “Vaguely.”
“You remember,” he repeats and his lips brush my ear through my tousled hair. “It was unforgettable. I had to do it to take the edge off. If I didn’t, there was no way I could make your first encounter what it was.”
I hug my pillow tighter.
He won’t stop. “Pretty sure your words at the time were fucking brilliant.”
“I take back what I said,” I snap. “You won’t lose your arsehole card anytime soon.”
“You wouldn’t want me any other way.”
“I’ll never sleep if you keep droning on about yourself.”
“I’m only droning on about you,” he argues. “But you’re right. Go to sleep.”
“For the love of all that’s holy, stop talking.”
His cock grinds into my ass. “You stop talking.”
I let my lids fall and try to pretend I’m not where I am and tomorrow will be different than reality will offer up. As much as I need a mental break from the man who’s literally supporting my weight right now, I’m not looking forward to a day alone with Abbott and Red Carson.
Either the pain pill I took over an hour ago finally kicks in or it’s the six-foot-four beast of a man I just can’t shake.
When I finally give in to exhaustion, it proves to be the best sleep I’ve had in a very long time.
Chapter 8
Tou-fuckin’-ché
Cole
“Ya sure ya want to be nosin’ around there again?”
I fall back into my chair, tired from being up half the night and dragging my ass out of bed two hours before dawn for the first time in over a week. “Trying another angle. I need to find her brothers and you’re the only one who can help me.”
“I haven’t seen Donnelly in over a year, mate. Ya need to drop it. She knows her arse will burn at the proverbial stake if she surfaces. Her beauty of a mug is on everyone’s shit list north of the Mediterranean.”
“I know,” I grit. “I’m not trying to find her this time—but I do need to find Archer or Devon.”
“Those fellas aren’t gonna tell ya where she’s hidin’. I’ve seen the suits drag every single living Donnelly into Vauxhall—even her sweet mum. I’m sure they know where she is but not a one of ‘em is gonna give her up. Not even to ya—maybe especially to ya. It’s time to mend your wounds and find yourself a nice little American chickee. Maybe one who likes to drink out of those red plastic cups while sportin’ cut-off jeans that go up to her arse cheeks, showing off legs that stretch as far as the horizon in a pair of cowgirl boots.”
“Fuck me. You and your obsession with country music,” I mutter. If he only knew where Bella really was. He’s nosy and always has been, but right now, I need him to test those skills for me. He’s my only contact in all of Great Britain I trust right now. He owes me his life. I saved his ass over a decade ago when we were both greener than two guppies lost in a puddle of rainwater. “Look, Oliver. I appreciate your concern—”
“Or maybe a cheerleader. Ya should move to Texas, they’ve got good ones down there from what I’ve seen watchin’ your American football.”