Page 67 of Lucky Strike

He cocks his head. “So, let’s go to bed.”

“As over-confident as ever, I see,” I joke weakly, still trying to catch myself.

“I meant to sleep.” He narrows his eyes playfully. “Although over-confident suggests I can’t back it up when we both know I can.”

Giving him a little push, I return to the living room for my phone and the bottle of wine. “You can’t just bed me with flowers, a few sweet words, and some kissing,” I say when I come back.

He’s quiet, watching as I rinse the glasses in the sink. “You’re right.”

There’s a tiny twinge of disappointment at his agreement, but mostly just relief. “It could seriously complicate things.”

He leans against the counter. “They’re already complicated.”

“Areyou any closer to dealing with the uh, the Bratva?” I ask, tripping over my words. Even talking about them feels foreign and strange.

“Tristan and Johnny haven’t seen or heard anything. They know we’re onto them now, so they’re probably playing it safe.”

“How long do Liam and I have to stay here?”

“For as long as it takes.” Not what I wanted to hear, but I school my features into a neutral expression. Conlan runs his fingertips down my arm. “It’s safe here. I don’t want these assholes knowing you even exist, let alone where you are.”

“They’re that bad, huh.”

“The worst.” He settles back, reclining on his elbows. “They’re into a lot of sick shit.”

“Like what?”

He looks out into the ocean, seeming to weigh his words. “Like human trafficking.” My heart pounds dully in my chest as he explains the nightclubs and the prostitution rings the Sokolovs are known for. I’m not naïve to this kind of stuff, but it blows my mind all the same. How could anyone be so cruel as to profit off of the suffering of others?

“Now do you understand why I need to keep you and Liam as far away from them as possible?” he asks quietly.

I flatten my palm over the warm sand, trying to stop my hand from shaking. “Yeah.”

“I don’t even like talking about it with you. There’s so much fucked-up stuff, and just, I don’t want it contaminating you. Or him.” Conlan tips his chin at Liam, who’s attempting a sandcastle on the wet, soggy sand. I tried telling him he needed a mix of wet and dry, and that the tide would ruin his efforts, but he was hellbent on doing it his own way.

“I understand, but can you at least tell me what they did to you? Why you have beef with them personally?”

“They stole guns from us, and they’re trying to steal a lot more,” he says briskly. “They want, ultimately, to take over the foothold we have in the city.”

“So, you’re basically fighting over limited resources.”

He chuckles. “We’re fighting because they’re greedy assholes that don’t know when to focus on their own shit.”

“Well, what about you, then?” I ask, shading my eyes from the midday sun. “When are you going back to the city?”

He arcs an eyebrow. “What, tired of me already?”

Getting to my feet, I take a couple of steps before looking back over my shoulder. “So tired. I just want to relax with Liam.”

There’s a naughty glint in his eye as he takes a step toward me. “You wanna relax, huh?”

“I’m just kidding!” I cry, running as fast as I can in the soft, damp sand. Liam screeches my name and soon they’re both coming after me, hemming me in from different directions. Giving up, I escape to the cool, salty water, diving beneath one of the small waves rolling in. I turn to see where the boys are, but Conlan’s already scooping me up, our bodies slippery with sunscreen. Liam cracks up from shore, dancing around like a little imp.

I extend my hand, gesturing for him to join us. “Come, Liam. Swim to us.”

He takes a tiny step but then hesitates, watching nervously as the water foams over his little feet. We’ve been working on getting used to the water, mostly in the pool, but I know the ocean can be formidable. Conlan lets go of me and wades over, picking up his son and carrying him in. They’re adorable together, with their matching red swim trunks and ink-black curls. Liam even got a haircut like Dad’s before we left Boston, so they look more alike than ever.

As irresistible as Liam’s cuteness is, I can't help but appreciate how the water droplets on Conlan’s newly tanned skin sparkle in the sunlight. Maybe it’s the water, but there’s an undercurrent of blue in his gray eyes today. It's nice to see him carefree and happy, even if it’s temporary.

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