Fatal Strike (McClouds & Friends #10)(57)

“Calm down, both of you.” It was Kev.

Something about Kev’s voice always mellowed everybody down a notch. Some magic glitch of his personality. Miles had always envied the guy that trick. It would come in handy, with all the hotheads in his life.

“You did good, today,” Kev went on. “Nobody’s questioning that—”

“I just did,” Aaro snarled.

“Shut up,” Kev said calmly. “I’m talking about the extraction. You improvised the whole damn thing, on the fly. Blew everybody’s minds. That was good work.”

“You don’t need to stroke my ego,” he muttered. “I’m not an idiot.”

“Could have fooled us,” Connor muttered, but he and the other guys cautiously loosened their grip on him and allowed him to stand. He brushed splotches of food from his shirt.

“Totally aside from the opinions flying around about how you spent the last two hours, we need more info to proceed,” Kev went on. “Because, despite what you seem to think, we do actually give a shit about you. And we still want to help. So what’s your plan?”

Miles stared at the mess he’d made on the table, abashed at Kev’s words. “I don’t have a plan,” he admitted. “I pulled her out, but she’s not safe. There’s nowhere on earth she could be safe from that guy. You saw what he can do. I have no idea what to do with her.”

Davy’s voice was quiet but clear in the silence that followed.

“Keep her,” he said.

Miles stared at him. Davy took a pull on his beer and stared back, straight on and unapologetic. “You know you want to,” he said.

Miles opened his mouth, and closed it before something stupid and inane could fall out. His brain was wiped clean.

Seconds passed. Sean started to nod, enthusiastically. “Yeah, that works. That girl is not the f*ck buddy type, my friend. That’s the only way to make it right. Otherwise, you’re just an opportunistic dickhead.”

“Shut up, Sean,” Davy said. “You’ll scare him.”

Miles just stood there, like an idiot, a buzz running through his body. A subtle electrical current, tingling. Like fear, but brighter.

“That’s Neanderthal, Davy,” he said.

Davy grunted, untroubled by that assessment.

“She’s a grown woman,” Miles said. “She might have plans. She might not want to be kept.”

“Who asked her?” Davy said.

Miles blinked. Whoa. That was a level of self-confidence to which he could scarcely dream to aspire. “It’s not as easy as that.”

“I never meant to imply that it’s easy,” Davy replied. “It’s not easy at all. It’s a total mind-twisting clusterf*ck, trying to figure a woman out. But what the f*ck else do you have to do with your life? You’ve got all those brains coming out of your ears. Use them for something useful. Blow her mind. Be irresistible. So it’s hard. Big f*cking deal.”

“Do the hard thing?” Miles said.

A smile flashed over all the McCloud brothers’ faces, to hear their crazy father’s classic maxim coming out of Miles’ mouth.

“She’s not stupid,” Con said. “And she does need you.”

“True,” Val chimed in, in his mellifluous, accented voice. “This can be helpful. And a woman’s mind can be changed, even if it is made up against you. It has been done. I am proof. I still live.”

True enough, considering that the guy was brave enough to get cozy with Tam. That took serious gonads, in Miles’ book.

“Yeah, dude. Use your assets.” Sean was picking up steam, eyes aglow. “You made one hell of a first impression. The rescue from the black pit, ka-pow! Giving her your shirt, ah. The bare-chest gambit. Packing gallantry, self-sacrifice, six-pack abs, and sexual magnetism all into the same hot package.” He paused, delicately. “All depends, however, upon how things went in the past two hours up in the master bedroom. Which brings me back to my original question. How was it?”

Miles stared at the guy, from under lowered brows. “Ask that question again, and I will break all the bones in your face.”

Sean lifted his beer bottle with a snort of delighted laughter. “Yes,” he crowed. “Just the answer I was fishing for.”

“Slow down. I just met her four hours ago,” Miles reminded them.

Davy’s eyebrow quirked. “She won’t forget those hours soon.”

Damned if that wasn’t the God’s own truth.

“So she’s nervous,” Connor said. “So she has doubts. Put them to rest. After years of Cindy purgatory, you can finally put all that turbocharged mojo in the service of something worthwhile. Halleluia.”

Miles looked around at the shuttered faces of the men in the kitchen. “Who’s on guard duty? I’ll take a turn.”

“We’re covered,” Davy said. “Go back upstairs.”

He looked around. “You’re all tired, too. I can—”

“It’s going to take a hell of a lot to make up for what happened to that girl,” Davy cut in.

Miles didn’t really want to know where Davy was going with it, but the guy was waiting. “Meaning?” he prompted.

“So stop f*cking around and get to it.” Davy’s voice cracked like a whip.