Page 29 of Smooth Sailing

Eight was the leader of this mission. And when Resurrection called it, Chaos didn’t say dick.

This had to do with the fact that those men picked up assignments like this on the regular, so they had a lot of experience, and they kept their skillset sharp even when they weren’t out in the world doing vigilante shit for the downtrodden.

On the other hand, Chaos jumped in occasionally, mostly because it was always for a righteous cause, like this one, but partly for shits, giggles and to keep life interesting.

Regardless their motivation, you didn’t question the leader.

But considering Eight had sensed where he was at, Hugger had to question it.

“Don’t think that’s smart, man,” Hugger noted.

“I’ll tell you what I’ve learned, Hug,” Eight began. “You got skin in the game, you go balls to the wall to win it. It’s not like any of us are gonna slack. But you got incentive to keep her ass healthy so you can tap it, that works in a big way.”

“We all need focus.”

“You’ll be focused all right.”

He had zero interest in hashing Diana Armitage out with Eightball.

“You’re lead, I’ll do what you say. But I’m on record,” Hugger finished it.

Before Eight could reply, they heard, “Brothers,” come from the door and saw Muzzle standing there.

Looking through the window, Hugger also saw Diana had returned.

She’d kicked off her shoes.

With them on, she was only four inches shorter than him.

With them off, it came clear he could throw her over his shoulder and haul her sweet, round ass to bed.

Fuck.

He and Eight entered the room, Hugger sliding the door shut behind him.

She waited until he did, before she said, “Suzette is okay with you guys helping out.”

“She know Hugger’s gonna be sleepin’ on the couch?” Eight asked.

Hugger watched closely as her eyes got big, some pink came into her cheeks, and neither helped matters, because both were fucking cute, and both told him she was where he was with this shit.

Terrific.

Her voice sounded slightly strangled when she replied, “She knows, yeah.”

“We’re gonna need fobs, keys, and I need a piece of paper to write some numbers down,” Eight told her.

She nodded and headed to the kitchen, which had gleaming white modern cupboards and quartz countertops. But there was a subtle blue in the pattern of the tile that made up the backsplash, and there were cobalt blue glass globes around the three dangling lights over the island.

She pulled out a keychain that had a fob on it as well as a set of keys. She tossed it on the counter.

Eight nabbed it and instantly turned and lobbed it to Hugger, who caught it.

Diana watched this, took a deep breath, then she rooted around in the drawer, saying, “We’ll get some keys made and I’ll order some extra fobs from the complex office.” She came out with a pad of paper and pen, which she slid across the counter to Eight.

He bent to it and started scribbling, offering so much info, he had to take out his phone and copy shit off it.

When he was done, he straightened and pushed the pad back her way.

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