Endless Love

by Drake, Tabatha

  “I sought you out to give you a second chance,” I say. “With Snake Eyes buried, its agents are seeking redemption. I’d like to offer you that.”

  “Redemption… in the Russian mob?” he asks, amused.

  “You must admit, it’s a step in the right direction,” I joke.

  He lets out a laugh.

  “The world is still searching for Snake Eyes agents,” I say. “Everywhere you go, everywhere you turn, they’ll be there. But not here. You can find a home here. Good work. Good pay. A new life.”

  Casey nods. “And what’s the catch?”

  “It can get a bit chilly,” I say with a smile. “You’ll want to buy a decent coat.”

  “Is that all?”

  I stand up and walk over to grab a knife off the wall. “Your reputation proceeds you. You’re a hard worker and a loyal man.” I pause in front of him as he scoffs. “I know what you did at the casino, Mr. Fawn. Quite frankly, I owe you my life. My wife owes you hers. My son will grow to know his parents and that’s because of you.”

  I bend over and slice his ropes free. He draws his arms forward and stands, gently massaging his wrists as he moves.

  “Please, consider my offer.” I reach into my pocket for a business card. “I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

  Casey takes the card and stares at it, his eyes heavy with thought.

  I step toward the door, following Markov’s impatient face.

  “Oh—” I turn back. “I’m going to be out of the country for the next few weeks, so… use the number on the back. It’s Markov’s cell.”

  Markov glares at me. “Eh?”

  “No,” Casey says, shifting toward us. “It’s all right. I won’t need it. I…” He takes a deep breath. “I’ll take it. I’ll take the job.”

  “You will?”

  He nods. “Yeah.”

  “Markov, will you make arrangements for Mr. Fawn?” I say.

  “Of course,” he answers.

  I step forward and extend my hand to Casey. “Welcome,” I say.

  He takes it slowly and shakes my hand. “Thank you,” he says.

  I smile. “Thank you, Mr. Fawn.”

  * * *

  I step up into the plane and the pilot looks back at me with the same judgmental brow as Markov. I brush it off, turning away and walking through the cabin toward the two seats in the back, following her dark hair down the empty aisle.

  Sofia sits in the large chair with a magazine splayed across her lap. My eyes instantly jut downward, trailing the enticing V-neck of her sundress all the way to her remarkable legs poking out the bottom and ending on a pair of shiny sandals.

  This woman is ready for the beach.

  “You’re late,” she says, flicking a page.

  I lower into the chair beside her. “I’m sorry, Sofia,” I say with a smile.

  She looks up and glares at me. “Did you get him?” she asks.

  “I did, actually.”

  Her lips curl into a soft smile.

  “Does that mean you forgive me?” I ask.

  “I might as well,” she says, feigning a sigh. “I don’t want to spend the next few weeks hating the only other person in the room.”

  I laugh. “Good.”

  I reach across her lap for her left hand and she lets me pull it toward my lips. I kiss her knuckles one-by-one, landing on the diamond ring on her finger.

  “A honeymoon,” I say. “At last.”

  Sofia blushes and turns back to her magazine.

  * * *

  Sofia arches her back, coming on my face buried between her thighs. I relish in her flavor, licking and tasting until the bucking of her hips finally pushes me off.

  I kiss her inner thighs, listening to the soft mewling she makes with each breath she lets out. I lick my lips before kissing her smooth skin again, drawing a wet line of kisses from her belly to her breasts.

  “Luka,” she moans, spreading her legs for me.

  I align our bodies, feeling my blood throbbing through the tip of my cock. She hugs her knees around my body to pull us closer and I rub my shaft against her aching clit to tease us both.

  I thrust inside and she gasps, instantly clinging to me as I fuck her quickly. She reaches around to cup my rear, squeezing to beg me to take her even harder.

  And I’m happy to oblige.

  She kisses me and I part my lips for her tongue. I massage hers with mine, tasting every delicious noise she makes as I grind her against the large bed.

  These last few days. Each moment spent in this bed is better than the last. Every night we lie here, staring up into the stars, unable to part for longer than a minute. Every day we lie here, and I strongly consider never leaving again.

  Sofia rolls her hips, making me go deeper inside. I groan with new pleasure, feeling the tension inside approach the breaking point. I kiss her harder, sucking on her tongue, and silently begging her to come with me. To make me come…

  She gasps and I feel her entire body tighten beneath me. The wet deluge coats my cock and I can’t hold on anymore. I come with her, staying deep inside, enjoying the sinful warmth of her core as it throbs around me.

  I slowly lower, allowing my arms to relax as I roll onto my hip to catch my breath. Stars. Am I seeing stars? It’s midday…

  “You know, Luka…” Sofia breathes hard and she curls the sheet around her. “It might be a good idea if, at some point on this honeymoon, we left the room…”

  I laugh. “Now, why would we ever do that?”

  She gestures to the wide-open double doors. “We have a private beach!” she says, pointing at it. “A beautiful, blue, sunny sky. Salty, sea air…”

  “I’d prefer snow-topped peaks and a roaring fire,” I tease with a grunt.

  Sofia rolls her eyes and tries to slide out of the bed.

  “No—” I grab her and pull her toward me. “We’ll go out later.”

  “You promise?”

  I brush my lips against hers. “I promise.”

  She kisses me, sealing the pact.

  “When it gets dark,” I add.

  “Luka,” she scolds.

  “And colder.”

  She grunts. “Who did I marry?”

  “The love of your life.”

  I kiss her again, holding her close as the waves bend and break outside our open doors.

  Truthfully, it’s absolute paradise. Her soft, Italian features shine in their native sun. I think to bring her back here more and more just to see that life in her eyes as she gazes out across the ocean.

  “Perhaps we should buy a place here,” I say.

  Sofia blinks twice. “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  She considers it with her big, brown eyes. “Maybe…” she says, an obvious yes. “Though, it would be a waste. We’d never have time to come back here with your work schedule.”

  I kiss the tip of her nose. “Yes, we will.”

  “No—”

  “I’m retiring.”

  Her mouth sags. “You are?”

  I pull her just a little bit closer. “I’ve already told Ma and Yuri and they’ve accepted,” I say. “I want to be a father to my son. I want to be there for him every day. And you. I never want to choose between work and squeezing in ten minutes with you ever again.”

  She smiles. “Luka…”

  “I love you, Sofia. I want to share my life with you. I want to build every moment of our future together. And when it’s all over, I want to give it all to Lucian. I never want him to want for anything.”

  Sofia hums in thought. “And what will his little brother or sister get?”

  I pause as my smile fades. “What?” I ask, not believing I heard her right.

  She reaches for my hand and my heart stops as she pushes it beneath the covers and settles my palm on her belly.

  “No,” I say, utterly speechless. “But…”

  Sofia says nothing as blissful tears fill her eyes.

  I don’t believe it. I don’t even wan
t to let myself believe in case it’s some cruel lie. The one aching regret I have…

  Have I been given a second chance?

  “You can’t,” I manage to say. “After Lucian, you said you…”

  My voice fades again as she rests a hand on my cheek.

  “What’s the matter, lyubov’ moya?” Sofia grins. “Do you not believe in miracles?”

  Chapter 32

  Boxcar

  I open the door to my Boston condo. “Ta-daaa!” I say, gesturing magic with my hands.

  Caleb stands beside me in the hallway with her arms crossed. She slowly takes a few steps forward, her eyes constantly on the move as she takes in her new, not Los Angeles, surroundings.

  I bend over to pick up the medium-sized brown package off the floor and I carry it inside with me.

  “So, this is the living room,” I say, following her in. I nudge the door closed behind me and set the package down by the door. “I use that corner over there for my workstation, obviously, but I’m willing to move that if you want me to. I’m sure it was meant for some kind of dining element but an attractive, married-dude-living-alone such as myself usually just plunked on the couch or ate at my desk or…”

  I note Caleb’s squinting brow.

  I clear my throat. “Over here…” I head toward the right. “Is the kitchen. Again, not much, but that’s mostly just me. There’s plenty of space for various toasters or food processors or anything you want. But honestly, who needs more than a coffeemaker, am I right?” I chuckle.

  She says nothing.

  “Okay.” I spin toward the stairs. “Up there are the bedrooms. There are two. One of which is—”

  Caleb passes me and starts walking up the stairs, her face still giving me absolutely nothing. Does she hate it? She hates it. She definitely hates it.

  Guess I’m going back to Sandville.

  I follow her up, sticking close as she reaches the first bedroom to the left. She pushes open the door and I cringe at the towers of boxes stacked up from wall-to-wall.

  “Okay,” I say, raising my hands. “It’s pretty packed with electronics and other crap at the moment but I will clear that out starting today.”

  She nods slowly.

  “Lots of that is worth something,” I say. “I’ll sell it and we can put it toward stuff for… you know, for the baby.”

  She leans in, taking another quick, painfully silent, glance into the corners before continuing on down the hallway.

  “Half-bath, second door,” I say, knocking on it as we pass.

  She keeps going toward the final door.

  “And…” I say, slipping ahead of her to open it myself. I grip the handle and flash a smile. “The master bedroom.”

  I push open the door and Caleb looks inside.

  I watch as her eyes scan over my bedroom furniture (also, admittedly, bare-bones and uninteresting) but her eyes linger for a few seconds on the full-length windows displaying a great downtown view.

  “It has its own bathroom,” I say, trying to sell it. “Big shower — with two showerheads. Super sexy and fun. Oh! Also, there’s a giant jacuzzi tub that hasn’t gotten a lot of use, so it’ll be great for you once your feet start expanding and your back aches and you get giant—”

  She stops me with a glare.

  “I mean… pregnancy is beautiful,” I say, feigning enthusiasm. “You’re gonna love it.”

  Her lips twitch.

  “But that’s just the floorplan. I haven’t even gotten to all the cool shit I installed like a speaker system that links through every room or the remote-controlled black-out curtains.”

  Caleb sighs and I start to panic. “Box…”

  “And don’t even get me started on the security system. Fox and Dani’s house was nothing compared to the amazing castle I built for my queen.”

  She raises a brow.

  I wink. “That’s you.”

  “Boxcar, I…”

  “Cal, how about we talk it out over a steak burrito?” I ask over her. “The best taco truck in the world is right down the street—”

  “I like it,” she says.

  I blink. “You do?”

  Caleb glances around the bedroom again and nods. “Yeah, I do.”

  “So… does that mean you’ll do it?” I ask. “You’ll move out here?”

  She shrugs a shoulder. “Sure, why not?”

  A giddy rush takes me over and I pick her up, laughing maniacally as I spin us around a few times.

  “Oh, my god. Caleb. That makes me so happy.”

  I set her back down and she laughs.

  “I really think it’s the right thing for us,” I say. “I mean, it’s completely paid off. We won’t have to pay rent or a mortgage or—”

  “Paid off by whom?” she rightfully asks.

  I hesitate. “I’m gonna shield you from that one.”

  Her head tilts. “I think you might be right, Box,” she says. “And, to be honest, I could use a change. You know, in the time before this beautiful pregnancy squeezes out a screaming infant and our lives completely change all over again.”

  I nod. “Right…”

  She smiles. “I’ve got some soul-searching to do. And it doesn’t matter where I am when I do it, as long as I’m with you.”

  “Aww.” My chest burns with warmth. “I love you, too, Cal.”

  Caleb kisses me and I wrap my arms around her, wanting so much more…

  The doorbell rings.

  I break away from her. “Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.” I point toward the bathroom. “But seriously, check out that tub.”

  She smiles and walks into the bedroom as I turn to rush back down the stairs.

  I tap the monitor by the front door to look outside.

  A woman stands in the hallway. She wears a deep black pantsuit. Her sharp, blonde hair is tied back in a tight bun on her head. Her eyes mean business. Not casual.

  I enable the speaker. “Hello. Can I help you?”

  She turns her head toward the speaker, quickly finding the camera, and smiles. “Hello, Mr. Carson. My name is Lydia Russell. May I have a few minutes of your time?”

  “Perhaps. What’s this about?”

  “It’s a little sensitive for a hallway, Mr. Carson.”

  I raise a brow. “Who are you with, Ms. Russell?”

  She withdraws a badge from her pocket and holds it up to the camera.

  Oh. The Central Intelligence Agency.

  Fuck.

  “I’m just here to talk, Mr. Carson,” she says, lowering the badge.

  I slowly disable the lock and open the door. “Talk about what specifically?” I ask her.

  She smiles. “Are you familiar with a man named Archer Allen?”

  I straighten up. “Super tall? Flowy blond hair? British?”

  “That’s the one,” she says with a nod.

  “Yeah, I know him. Why?”

  She gestures over my shoulder with her eyes and I take a step back to let her inside.

  “Mr. Allen contacted me recently,” she says. “He and I worked together on a joint mission with MI-6 many years ago. He had some nice things to say about you.”

  I close the door and put my back to it. “Really?”

  She flicks the latch on her briefcase. “So, I took the liberty of looking into your history. Your record is… quite impressive.”

  “It’s all lies, I swear.”

  “I found your stint in the military particularly interesting,” she says. “Sergeant Martin Rhys took extensive notes on your unofficial time with his unit.”

  I hold my breath. “Did he?”

  “Can’t say I’ve ever heard of a civilian intelligence freelancer myself but, from what he wrote, you were a valuable member of his team. You kept a lot of men alive out there. He was very fond of you.”

  “I was just… serving my country. No big deal.” I clear my throat. “Ms. Russell, what is this about?”

  “This is just a feeler meeting, Mr. Carson.”
<
br />   “Feeling for what?”

  “You’re a talented man. We’re a business of talented people. It’s my job to find them and extend a hand.”

  She withdraws a manila envelope from her case and holds it out to me.

  I blink. “You want me to work for the CIA?”

  “I want you to think about it, yes,” she says, urging me to take the envelope.

  I stare at it for another moment before I let myself take it.

  “Any questions you might have are answered in there,” she says. “Everything else, just give me a call. You’ll find my card inside.”

  I take a deep breath, soaking it in. “Archer, huh?” I ask.

  She smiles and latches her briefcase. “When Mr. Allen calls, I answer,” she says. “He doesn’t recommend just anybody.”

  Well, he did say I wouldn’t have a problem finding a job.

  Thanks, buddy.

  “I won’t keep you any longer,” she says. “Ball is in your court, Mr. Carson.”

  I open the door for her. “Thank you, Ms. Russell.”

  “And congratulations,” she says in the doorway. “I heard you were expecting.”

  I nod. “Yeah, we are.”

  She bows her head. “Have a good day.”

  “You, too.”

  She disappears down the hall and I close the door.

  “You know you’re taking that job, right?”

  I look over at Caleb standing at the bottom of the stairs.

  I let out a laugh and shake the envelope. “Do I have a choice?” I ask. “I feel like there may have been an asterisk in that offer somewhere.”

  “Well, asterisk or not, we need income,” she says as she walks over. “And if Archer can get you in the back door of the CIA, I say go for it.”

  I drop the envelope on the table by the door. “I will pore over this later.”

  Caleb looks at the package on the floor. “What’s that?”

  “I don’t know,” I say, bending over to grab it.

  “Where’s it from?”

  “It’s from…” I read the label and raise a brow. “Russia.”

  She squints. “Who do we know in Russia?”

  “Oh, you know. Just… the mob.”

  I pry it open, my curiosity piqued. Caleb hovers on the tips of her toes to look inside as I push away an assortment of packing foam over another large box.