Page 4 of The Protective Gryphen

Oh, he was well aware.

Ian rested his head on his shoulder.

“I’m doing it. There isn’t a better holiday to be had by me,” he admitted. “Trust me.”

That made Gryphen smile.

What he liked most about the man was he was chill, and not high maintenance. There was nothing worse than a significant other who was difficult to get to relax.

Ian was amazing.

He liked watching a movie and cuddling on the couch more often than not.

That was one of Gryphen’s favorite things too.

“Do we know where we’re staying?” Ian asked, out of the blue.

Gryphen ran his hands up and down his back, just offering that reassurance of touch.

“We don’t, but I know Callen sent me a text before we took off. There will be a limo taking us there. I brought the cash,” he said, pointing at the briefcase that was sitting on the seat not far away.

“She wasn’t kidding, I guess,” Ian admitted.

No, Elizabeth hadn’t been when she said use cash only so that they were off of the grid.

Gryphen walked over to it and opened it. Inside, was PLENTY of cash.

Ian whistled.

“If I didn’t know what they did for a living, I’d feel like I was in one of Jackson James’ books,” Ian admitted.

On that, Gryphen agreed.

“Let’s just say we’ll be good, and that will buy us lots of kilts.”

Ian was amused.

“I mean, if that’s your kink, Gryphen, sign me up.”

He began laughing.

“Yeah, I like everyone seeing my one good leg, and my prosthetic one with the flag on it. No one’s buying I’m Scottish.”

Ian didn’t care.

He liked Gryphen as he was.

HIS.

When he remembered they were waiting on food, Gryphen set him free. Then, he pulled the hot meals out of the microwave, and put them on the plates.

Dinner was served.

Carrying them out of the galley and to the small table not far away with the two seats flanking it, he placed them down.

Ian had the non-alcoholic cider and two glasses in his hands.

When they sat, Ian unscrewed the lids, poured the cider out, and handed Gryphen a glass.

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