Edge of Midnight (McClouds & Friends #4)(44)

He shrugged. “Whichever Sean I am, my dick will always be hard for you. Look under B for boy toy in your address function.” He tossed it on the dresser, and flung open the door. To the right was the third floor stairs, the crawl space, the window, the tree. His covert entry route.

The left led to the grand staircase down to the main hall. He turned left.

Liv lunged out the door after him. “Hey! What are you doing?” she hissed. “Have you gone nuts?”

“Why not? If they killed me now, I’d die happy. And slithering on your belly is undignified. Have a nice evening, beautiful.”

As luck would have it, Amelia Endicott was at the foot of the stairs, whispering with that steaming turd, Blair Madden. Gack.

Sean’s tongue adhered to the roof of his mouth. He abruptly reconsidered the wisdom of his impulse to walk out the front door.

Slithering on his belly sounded real good right now.

Liv’s mom turned at his deliberately clumping footsteps, and let out a shrill shriek. Her hand flew to cover her thin red mouth.

Blair jumped and put himself in front of her, puffing out his chest like a toad. “How did you get in? What have you done with Liv?”

“Nothing,” Liv said softly from behind him. “I’m fine.”

So the princess had taken pity on him. He allowed himself one last look over his shoulder. She was still in her sheer, sexy robe, flushed and damp and gorgeous. Like a woman who’d just had fabulous sex.

Sean did not like for Blair Madden to see her like that.

“I was testing your security,” he said. “Needless to say, it’s inadequate.” He dug into his pocket, and pulled out a scrap of paper. “Here’s a list of the best security companies in the area. Private cell phone numbers included. You could call them right now. In my name.”

“Thanks for the unsolicited advice.” Blair yanked the door open.

Sean stared at the other man as he sauntered down the stairs. Madden inched backwards, a muscle twitching in his face.

“The police are right outside, McCloud.”

Sean turned at the gruff, loud voice. Bart Endicott stood in the door, his thick face red and mottled.

It never ceased to baffle him. How that fanged bitch and that pompous blowhard had managed between them to produce the princess would forever remain one of the great unsolved mysteries of genetics.

“Yes, I know,” he said. “I saw them when I came in. But I was just leaving. Good night, everyone.”

“You might as well wait where you are. We’ll be pressing charges for breaking and entering.” Amelia Endicott’s voice dripped acid.

“No, Mother.” Liv’s voice was soft, but resolute. “There was no breaking or entering. I invited him in. You can call off the police.”

Everyone turned horrified eyes on Liv. Sean did not envy her in that moment. She wrapped her arms around her chest and stared back.

Wow. He practically blushed. He didn’t deserve that kind of support, after his raving * routine. That woman was pure class.

“That’s hardly appropriate for an engaged woman, dear,” Amelia said loudly. “I imagine you told Sean your happy news?”

Sean looked at her. His chest cavity had just been flash frozen.

She blinked. “But I—I’m not—”

“Come on, honey,” Blair said. “We can’t keep it a secret forever.”

“We were thinking early fall,” Amelia said. “Of course, this awful business might force us to reconsider the timing. Such a shame.”

It took a minute for him to coordinate his vocal apparatus. “Uh, yeah.” He looked into Liv’s big, startled gray eyes. “I’m amazed you didn’t share something so important earlier in our, ah, conversation.”

“But I’m not—”

“Liv’s shy about it,” Amelia broke in. “But thank goodness we all have something to be happy about in these difficult days, hmm?”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Uh, great. Be happy, then. Watch your back, princess.”

He was out the door. Walking blindly up the driveway towards the gate. He had to stop and explain himself to the cops that were parked outside, which was a challenge, since he couldn’t concentrate clearly enough to make any sense. All he could think about was Liv.

Engaged. Jesus Christ.

Madden finally came out the door, called the cops off, waved him on out. Just to get rid of his sorry ass. Smug toad.

The big wrought-iron gate ground open for him. He took off down the road towards his truck, dazed. He’d done every last damn thing Davy had advance-scolded him for. Breaking and entering, planting spywear, ill-advised sex. The Endicotts could nail his ass to the wall, if they found the beacons. Wallet, suitcase, purse, he’d even slit open the soles of Liv’s sandals. The burrs were traceable to SafeGuard, so he’d compromised Seth and Davy as well. They didn’t have much staying power, lacking an external power source. He’d risked his freedom and his brother’s professional reputation for a chance of keeping track of Liv for the next day or so.

And for the wildest, most explosive sex he’d ever had.

He stumbled in the dark. Ran his hands over the stinging marks on his shoulders and ass. Fuck-me-harder marks. Wildcat woman.

He would wear them like a badge. Be sorry when they healed.