Page 28 of Mountain Man Grinch
“Understood,” Mateo says.
Davin adds, “Wolfe and the crew’s got the cartel threat under control. Might as well get back to your honeymoon with Callie.”
“I plan on it,” he says, eyes scraping the ground. “I’m moving next door to keep an eye on this circus.”
“You’re still on your honeymoon, primo. Callie deserves this, too,” I remind.
“Fuck the honeymoon,” Mateo mutters. “You almost died.”
“But I didn’t,” I say with a forced laugh. “Davin wouldn’t let me.”
His face is stony, ambivalent.
“Don’t worry. In a week, you can get back to being a pain in my ass,” Davin grumbles.
I nudge the big mountain man, smiling up at him. “Good, I like it when you call him on his machismo bullshit.”
“You two,” Mateo says, shaking his head. “I mean, how? You couldn’t be more opposite. I was more worried about you killing each other.”
“Thought about it … at first,” Davin says, straight-faced. “But I liked the alternative more.” He winks at me, wraps a protective arm around me.
“And Gus, too?” Mateo says, motioning toward the pug. “But you hate dogs, Grimshaw.”
“Still do. But that thing’s just a big, adorable rat.”
Mateo’s muttering under his breath in Spanish as he disappears back outside.
Davin wraps his arms around my waist, pulls me close for another kiss. Finally, finally, the fear drains out of my body, replaced with warmth, hunger, and something deeper.
“Now that we’ve got that out of the way, how about we work on what makes you scream.”
“Naughty boy!” I gasp.
“You don’t know the half of it.” He jumps to his feet, throws me over his shoulder and starts for the hall.
“You’re a caveman,” I gasp, giggling.
“Told you so,” he murmurs, smacking my ass. “Now let me prove it.”
“Mmm … can’t think of anything I want more this Christmas.” My voice sounds dark, sultry.
“Got plans for that, too.”
Davin tosses me onto the bed with a wicked, hungry grin.
SCRRRRT …THUMP!
Gus barrels across the room, launches from Davin’s wooden trunk like a squat little missile, and lands on the mattress between us, legs splayed, eyes blazing with righteous fury.
He lets out a war cry of a bark—moremrrrgh-hrrrf!than intimidating. But the message is clear.
Davin freezes. Stares. “Princess, your guard pug is cockblocking me.”
Gus snarls, then plants one tiny paw on Davin’s thigh likeback away, heathen.
“He’s protecting me,” I say, covering my mouth to hide the giggles bubbling up.
“He’s interfering,” Davin corrects, deadpan.
