Page 92 of Mike

Canoodling? Half an hour?

Crab on a cracker. Joe was dumbfounded on two counts. They’d not only tested Mason’s patience by ignoring the clock, Mike had forgotten to turn off his mic. Did that mean his whole team…?

“And you can thank me later,” Mason barked. “I had everybody turn off their communication devices as soon as you two started getting inappropriate.” Mason, although censuring, revealed more than a modicum of humor as he spoke.

“Except you,” Mike grunted with amusement.

“What? You expected me to tune out when things were getting good?”

Mike grinned while grinding his pelvis into Joe. “Uh, Mase? Does your wife Everlee know you’re a voyeur?”

Mason snorted. “Voyeur implies watching, dickhead. I was listening. And it’s a damned good thing I was, because if I hadn’t, the two of you would have gotten carried away, and we have business to conduct.”

“Spoilsport,” Joelle answered.

Mason ignored her outburst to ask a question.

“Now, Joe. In order to expedite things, I need some information. You’ve refused to tell us what the hell your last name is, and we can’t move ahead until you do.”.

Mike edged back and looked down at her, dazed. “Yeah. What he said. What is your last name, anyway?” he posed incredulously.

Joelle got impish. “Mike.” She shook her head. “You mean to tell me you just briefed a woman that you’re in love with her without knowing who she is?”

Mike quickly regained his equilibrium and scoffed. “Oh, I know who you are. The woman I love,” he said succinctly. “Which means I don’t care whether your last name is Smith, or Arachibutyrophobia. I have the woman I adore in my arms, and that’s all the info I need.”

“Sweet,” Joe preened, accepting another too short, and very quiet kiss. “But FYI, my last name is Pikens.”

Mason sighed. “Thanks for?—”

Mike clicked off his mic. “Pikens is nice, but…how does Joelle Carlese strike you?” he asked with a little tentativeness to his voice.

Joe swallowed around a huge lump. “You’re…asking that, already?”

“I don’t mess around,” he said, grinning self-consciously. “But I don’t expect an answer right now. I’m really just putting it out there for future consideration.”

Joe thought for a hot second before…

“Future-me says yes.”

“Goddamn,” Mike howled loudly, giving a fist pump into the air.

“Mike!” Mason bellowed through the tree-screen. “Are you okay?”

Joe and Mike looked at each other and cracked up.

“I think we should rejoin the team before Mason sends in reconnaissance,” Joe teased.

Mike nodded, then…

“All good, Mase,” he shouted back. “We’re coming.”

“TMI, Mike,” the boss teased with a yelp. “Save that for later.”

Joe giggled.

She liked Mike’s team. A lot. And it was a good thing, because once she was jobless, she’d not only be sniffing out a job in Portland, she’d be asking if they were in the market for a new, part-time SWAT member. She wasn’t afraid that nepotism was forbidden. Mason’s wife, Everlee, was on the team in the capacity of a Use of Force officer. Maybe Joe could come in as an undercover detective?

She’d ask Mase about all that when she got the chance. But right now…

---