by Layla Reyne
Scotty nodded. “I’ve been going, weekly, but I’m leaving. The Bay Area. I’m taking some time off, now that my work on the case is done and the doctors have cleared me to travel.”
“Scotty,” Chris said gently, “your Southern is showing.” He was tired and rambly, and the Southern drawl was coating his words, thicker than Chris ever remembered hearing it. It was attractive as hell, but he knew Scotty wouldn’t think so. “Stop a minute and breathe.”
That won a small smile. “Before I left, I needed to apolog—say thank you.”
“Is there anything we can do to help?” Hawes said.
Scotty raked a hand through his hair, tousling it more. “I’m not sure anyone can help me right now.”
The blunt admission of helplessness would have made Chris stagger if Hawes hadn’t been holding him steady. As it was, it temporarily robbed him of a response. But not Hawes.
“Sam, maybe?”
Scotty’s gaze, which had drifted toward the door, shot back to Hawes.
“Where are you really going, Scotty?” Hawes asked.
“There’s more than one nightmare I need to sort out.”
Recovering from his surprise, Chris stepped forward and tugged a startled Scotty into a hug. “When you do need us, call. We’ll be there.”
At his side, Hawes clasped Scotty’s shoulder. “We’re family, and we will always be there, for whatever you need.”
Scotty sniffled a little. “Thank you both.”
“Thank you,” Hawes said. “For trusting me, and us.”
Scotty smiled, stronger than the one before. “I’m glad he was right about you.”
They shared another round of smiles, of hugs and handshakes, and then Scotty disappeared out the door. Chris’s worry, however, didn’t disappear with him. “Remind me to have Holt put a flag on him.”
“Monday,” Hawes said with a pat to his ass. “When you’re officially back at work.”
Chris turned into him, dipped his face, and gave Hawes the kiss he’d turned his lips up for. “Sorry I’m late. Flight was delayed.” Chris stole another kiss, making up for the two weeks they’d been apart while he’d been at Glynco, then in DC, officially retiring from the ATF.
“You made it,” Hawes said. “That’s what matters.”
“Celia feel that way?”
Hawes took him by the hand and led him toward the party. “She’s too pissed at my sister to be pissed at you.”
That was news, proven by the two women very obviously, and very intentionally, sitting on opposite sides of the room from each other. Which was the opposite of how they’d been acting the past few months. Chris had it on good authority that Helena was the shop’s best new customer. “What’s that about?”
“Helena’s icing her out for some reason. And they’re not the only ones.” He jutted his chin toward the table where Chris had first spied Holt sitting with Lily. Kane was hovering nearby, but he wasn’t sitting at the table with them, which in a group of family and friends was unusual.
“The visit with Amelia today at Dublin?” Amelia was still at FCI Dublin but serving a reduced sentence in minimum security in exchange for her cooperation on the investigation and for assisting Melissa Cruz on some open bounty matters.
Hawes shook his head. “No, that went fine. She got to spend time with Lily on her birthday and signed the separation papers. But those two”—his eyes flickered back to Holt and Kane—“have been off since everything went down.”
Chris felt more than a twinge of guilt for contributing to the wall of tension between the two friends. It had been there since the day Chris had confronted Rose, when he’d told Kane and Holt about the deal Hawes had made to keep the chief safe. Chris wondered what would happen when the tension between them finally reached its breaking point.
“I never thought I’d be the most settled of the three of us,” Hawes said, and Chris’s guilt faded in light of the happiness he shared with Hawes.
“They’ll sort it out.” He nuzzled behind Hawes’s ear, inhaling the scent he’d missed. “At least Lily is oblivious to it, and Mia is having a good time. That’s all that matters tonight.”
Chris couldn’t agree more, and he didn’t think he could be any happier either. His old family and his new one, together, and all of them healthy and for the most part happy. And he was back here with them, for good now. Home. He rested a hand at the small of Hawes’s back, then slid it around to his hip. “Thank you for helping make this happen.”
“Our family deserved to celebrate something good after the past several months.”
“Our family. Sounds good.” He kissed Hawes’s temple, unable to get enough of him. “I’d like to show you how thankful I am.”
“Later.” Hawes’s blue eyes sparked with mischief. “I promise to give you something else to celebrate.”
“It’s Saturday,” Chris bemoaned. “You’re not supposed to be at work.”
Hawes held the front door at MCS headquarters open for his partner. “How many Saturdays have I worked since we’ve been together?”
“All of them.”
“Then what makes you think that’s gonna change now?”
Chris grabbed him from behind as they waited for the elevator. “It’s almost midnight.” Kissed the groove of his neck. “I’ve been gone for two weeks.” Nipped his ear. “Let’s go home and fuck.” Shoved his cock against Hawes’s backside.
As tempting as all that sounded and felt, Hawes had something else he wanted to give Chris more. And he was fairly certain it would result in Chris’s dick in his ass even faster than if they went home.
The elevator doors slid open, and Hawes tugged Chris inside. “This is my favorite time to be here,” he told Chris as the elevator climbed to the third floor. Second shift on Saturdays was their last of the weekend. As the factory quieted, and as Saturday slipped into Sunday, it was like the whole world slowed down. When he was a kid, his parents or Papa Cal would use the time to catch up on paperwork, if they weren’t on a job, and Hawes would tag along with them to MCS. While they worked, he would lie on the floor and stare out the windows, counting the stars in the sky when the fog allowed, or when it didn’t, the stars in the water from the lights on the boats.
As an adult, he sat in the chair behind the desk and did the paperwork but still spent more time than he should staring out the windows. He enjoyed the time to unwind, to summon back the control the week had sapped away, to steady himself so he could do it all again. Except he had something even better than that now. The man pressed against his back, feeling him up and nuzzling behind his ear. “This that other celebration you mentioned?”
“Maybe…”
One of Chris’s roving hands passed over where he’d been shot, and a shiver rolled through Hawes. Chris held him tighter, and before Hawes’s mind could rewind too far, Chris’s words pulled him back to the present. “Might have to fuck you first,” Chris tempted, a hand lightly clasped around his neck and the other one not so lightly clasped over his cock. “Still haven’t gotten the chance to fuck you in your office.” He stroked Hawes’s cock, and the friction through layers of silk about killed him. “Haven’t been able to get that image out of my mind since the first time you brought me here. How I’d spread your arms and legs and bend you over, face first. Pin you down by the wrists and cover your body with mine. Ram my cock—”
Fuck, he was going to come too soon if he didn’t shut the too tempting man up. He thrust back against Chris’s dick, returning the torture, and tilted up his face for a kiss, demanding it.
Chris obliged, tongue down his throat, until the doors opened on the executive floor. “Been sittin’ on that fantasy for months,” Chris said as Hawes led them out of the cab.
Hawes stopped in front of the reception desk. “I want to make one adjustment.”
“What’s that?” Chris pushed him back against the polished wood. “On your back instead? Watch me as I fuck you?” He hitched up one of Hawes’s legs. “Or do you want to ride me as
I sit in your chair?” He grabbed Hawes’s aching cock. “Or maybe you want to be the one fucking me?”
“Yes,” Hawes gutted out, right at the edge again. “All of the above, but I want you to fuck me in your office.”
Chris froze. “My office?”
Hawes slunk out from between the desk and Chris, took him by the hand again, and led him past Helena’s and Holt’s offices. He stopped in front of the new door in the line—four now where before there had been only three—and opened it for Chris.
Chris was silent as he walked into the new office, created from the more than extra space in Holt’s and Hawes’s offices. Hawes grew more nervous as the silence stretched on, to the point he felt compelled to fill it with words. “You’ve given me a place in your home.” He’d moved into the condo in Mission Dolores last month. So Hawes had made room for Chris at MCS too. “Now I’m giving you a place in mine.”
Chris paused beside the desk and tapped the pink box on the corner. “Those what I think they are?”
“Mooncakes, yes, for celebration, I hope.” He pointed at the mini fridge in the corner. “And there’s champagne in there.”
Chris continued on around the desk and inhaled sharply, his gaze landing on the framed pictures on the window ledge. Hawes crossed the room to stand beside him, to look again at the pictures of Ro, of Chris and his family, of Chris and Izzy at Glynco, and of them enjoying a couple beers after moving Hawes into the condo. “Gloria helped me with the pictures.”
Chris lifted a hand and covered this mouth, whispering through his fingers, “Hawes, this is…”
Hawes looped an arm through his. “I didn’t mean to presume, but you’re out of the ATF now, working as a PI for us and for clients Mel refers. It makes sense for you to be here.”
Chris shifted to face him, a brow raised. “Makes sense?”
“I want you with me, my partner at home and at work.” He laid a hand on Chris’s chest, over his heart that beat strong beneath his palm. “I never thought I’d have that, and a part of me is afraid it’ll disappear one day, carried out by the fog.”
“No, baby,” Chris said, laying a hand over his. “The fog rolls in and out each day, but the Tower, the Pyramid, the Bridge, they’re all still there before and after.” He grasped Hawes’s hip with his other hand, squeezing in that place Hawes considered his. “And I will be too, every day.”
“So that’s a yes, to the office?”
“It’s a yes to everything with you.” Chris hauled him into a kiss that stole Hawes’s breath, that wrapped him up so completely he startled when his ass hit the desk, Chris having picked him up and set him on the smooth surface. He shoved Hawes’s legs apart and stepped between them, their bodies brushing, cock to cock, lips to lips. “And it’s a yes to fucking you on my new desk before I cover it with work.”
Hawes hitched his legs higher, drove his tongue deeper, and claimed the life that was his, that he never thought he would have. Then he gave himself to the man he wanted to share the rest of that life with. Lying back on the desk as he had in that warehouse four months ago, as he had against the ladder in his old condo during their first encounter. Arms spread, at Chris’s tender, ruthless mercy, and feeling like the most powerful man in the world, like a king, as he let go and got lost, trusting that Chris would always be there—on him, in him, with him. By his side. A lover, a partner, the steadying force Hawes needed as he and his siblings rebuilt their new empire, this new legacy, one Hawes was proud to call their own.
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A Note From Layla
Dear Reader,
Thank you for taking this Fog City journey with me. I hope you enjoyed Hawes and Chris’s story as much as I did. And I hope you’ll forgive me the cliffhangers as we made our way to this finale. I so wanted to do a project that was 100% me—an homage to the city I love and the action movies and episodic television I grew up on, including the dreaded to some, much beloved to me, To Be Continued. Thanks for your patience and support as I brought that dream to life in a series that I couldn’t be more thrilled with.
So thrilled that I’m not quite ready to leave Fog City yet. While Hawes and Chris got their happily ever after, we’ve got some other folks to take care of still. Stay tuned for spin-offs! On that note, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to check out my Whiskey Verse books in the Agents Irish and Whiskey and Trouble Brewing series, as you’ll see more of those characters weave their way into the lives of our Fog City characters. The reading order and links for the complete Whiskey Verse are just a few pages over and also available at www.laylareyne.com.
Finally, reviews are an invaluable tool when it comes to spreading the word about great reads. Please consider leaving an honest review for A New Empire on Amazon, BookBub, or your favorite review site.
Thank you,
Layla
Acknowledgments
Once again, Readers, especially my Lushes, thank you so much for your continued love and support for Fog City and for all my books. It’s been a crazy year as I’ve ramped up the writing production, and your enthusiasm and encouragement kept me going.
Thanks again to the professionals who help make a gorgeous book, inside and out: Wander Aguiar and models, Patrick and Ryan, whose photo on the cover of this book, in particular, inspired the entire series; Cate Ashwood for taking that inspiration and creating such beautiful covers (including the award-winning cover of Prince of Killers); Kristi Yanta for the continued story guidance; Keren Reed for the prompt and careful copy editing; Susie Selva for always making my final drafts shine; and Leslie Copeland for assembling it all into this gorgeous package. Betas for this one get an extra round of applause, and their drink of choice on me, for the super short turn-around: Leslie, Erin, Allison, Kim, Rachel, Anna, and May. Thanks to Judith and the Novel Take team for always being a superb PR partner, and my continued appreciation to Tantor Audio and Tristan James for bringing Fog City to the all the audiophiles out there.
Finally, there are not enough thank yous in the world for the amazing author friends who have helped me through the ups and downs of self-publishing this past year. It’s been a wild ride, but I’m sort of getting the hang of it, thanks to your wisdom and time so graciously given.
Also by Layla Reyne
Dine With Me
Fog City:
Prince of Killers
King Slayer
Agents Irish and Whiskey:
Single Malt
Cask Strength
Barrel Proof
Tequila Sunrise
Blended Whiskey
Trouble Brewing:
Imperial Stout
Craft Brew
Noble Hops
Changing Lanes:
Relay
Medley
About the Author
RITA Finalist Layla Reyne is the author of the Fog City, Whiskey Verse, and Changing Lanes series. A Carolina Tar Heel who now calls the San Francisco Bay Area home, Layla enjoys weaving her bi-coastal experiences into her stories, along with adrenaline-fueled suspense and heart-pounding romance. She is a member of Romance Writers of America and its Kiss of Death and Rainbow Romance Writers chapters. Layla is a RWA® RITA® Finalist in Contemporary Romance (Mid-Length) and Golden Heart® Finalist in Romantic Suspense.
You can find Layla at laylareyne.com, on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter as @laylareyne, and in her reader group on Facebook—Layla’s Lushes.
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