Page 39 of Classified (The Elite 3)

“Grant,” she said, smiling. “And Mateo, right?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you for having me.”

“Oh, it’s our pleasure.”

Solo cocked his head. “You know, my mom had that exact same apron. She used to wear it every Sunday.”

Mom looked down at the frilly pink apron tied around her trim waist, the one permanently dusted with flour even though she had nicer, newer ones. “Oh no, I’m sorry, I’m such a mess.” She thrust the basket of rolls in my direction and kissed my cheek. “Everything is just coming out of the oven, so how about you boys go on into the dining room and get settled and I’ll let your father know you’re here.”

“Sure. Thanks, Mom.” As soon as her back was turned, I lifted the towel covering the rolls to sneak one out and heard her say, “Grant, don’t you dare touch those.”

“Hah. Buuusted.” Solo chuckled.

And that pretty much summed up my childhood years. Eyes in the back of her head, same as my father, which meant there was no getting away with anything in this family. No wonder Solo thought I was so strait-laced when he met me. I’d never done a rebellious thing in my life.

“Come on,” I said, dropping the towel back in place and leading the way to the formal dining room. Because my father entertained high-ranking military on a regular basis, there was an elegantly carved cherry table surrounded by ornate high-backed chairs that looked more like something you’d find in a throne room. Even without guests, the three of us always ate our meals there at my father’s insistence. Something about sitting in that room surrounded by such grandeur forced you to be on your best behavior, and I had to admit that I was curious to see how Solo reacted. Was it even possible that he had a “best behavior” side? I sincerely doubted it—which was also one of the reasons I’d fallen for him.

As I set the rolls down onto the table already covered with bowls and platters of food—way too much for four people—Solo whistled.

“Just a simple lunch, huh?” He ran his hand over the black Elite shirt that he’d paired with a nice pair of jeans. “You didn’t tell me we were supposed to bust out the tuxes today.”

“Nah, you look great.”

“Does all this mean your father is gonna come in in his full formal uniform or what? I just want to be prepared to curtsy.”

I started to laugh, but then my father boomed, “A simple salute will suffice.”

If I’d expected Solo to react with an oh shit look, I would’ve been sorely disappointed, because the only hint of surprise on his face was the slight raising of his eyebrows.

With my father’s looming presence taking up most of the doorway, Solo started forward toward him, his hand outstretched.

“Afternoon, captain.”

“Mr. Morgan,” my father said, looking him up and down. To my surprise, he didn’t hesitate in shaking Solo’s hand.

“Mateo’s fine.”

“Of course. Good of you to come, Mateo.”

Solo grinned. “Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

My father hummed a response, and when he let go of Solo’s hand, Solo immediately lifted it in salute.

The smartass in my boyfriend couldn’t resist. I had to smother my laugh as my father gave him a look and waved him off. If this was the beginning of Solo’s “best behavior,” then it would definitely be one for the books.

God help us all.

31 Solo

CAPTAIN HUGHES MAY hold all the power when we were inside Navy walls, but outside of them he was just a man, one I wasn’t going to let get in my head again. I couldn’t believe I’d allowed him in there in the first place, but that was my own damn insecurity to blame.

No more, I thought, as Captain Hughes took a seat at the head of the table.

He gestured for us to join him. “Sit.”

Panther took the seat to the right of his father, so I slid into the spot beside my man, making sure to brush my hand over his thigh under the table. He winked my way as his mom came rushing into the room, carrying a large bowl of salad. She’d removed her apron, revealing a modest dress beneath, as impeccably put together as her husband. Both of them looked more ready for a night out than a lunch at home.

“Mateo, what would you like to drink?” she asked.

Panther went to stand. “We can get those, Mom—”

“Absolutely not. You two stay here and visit, and I’ll be right back with Mateo’s…?”

“Water is fine,” I said. “Thank you.”

She nodded and left as quickly as she’d entered, and once she was out of earshot, Panther said, “We need to talk.”

Unperturbed, Captain Hughes looked at his son, and I could see exactly where Panther got the look of nonchalance he put up to hide what he was truly thinking. Seeing the two of them staring at each other with those same blank eyes was a little unnerving.

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