For Her Eyes Only (30 page)

Epilogue

“C’mon, Ryan, it’s time we introduced you to the man cave,” Adam Hastings said from the kitchen doorway.

Ryan looked up. He was “helping” Vicky and her two nephews, Kai and Kyran, bake Christmas cinnamon cookies in the Hastings family kitchen.

“Go on, I’ve got this,” Vicky told him, as Kai threw a handful of flour at his younger brother while his aunt’s back was turned.

Ryan glanced warily after Vicky’s dad as he left the room. So far her father had invited him to join them in a friendly game of football in the snow out back. That had ended up with Vicky’s two older brothers, her old man and her nephews piling on top of him in an impromptu wrestling match. Vicky, too.

Adam Hastings had also insisted he give Ryan a tour of the area, and he had unwittingly joined Vicky’s brothers, Scott and Jason, in the car. He was peppered with bruises from the almost violent session of Spotto that had ensued.

Now her dad wanted him to join him in the man cave? He had no idea what that was, but Ryan wished he had his gun as he trudged across the snow-covered backyard to the boatshed behind the older man. Adam Hastings was in his sixties and still a good-looking man, but apparently retirement wasn’t on his radar. Over the last few days Ryan had learned that the Hastings family worked hard—and they played hard. The senior Hastings had a well-equipped office in his home, and would disappear to do brief spurts of work or make calls, managing his global business remotely.

Ryan had to admit, for a wealthy family, the Hastings were very humble, and very modest. The home was beautiful, but not a showcase. It was warm and friendly and welcoming. Marks had been etched on the kitchen door over the years to show the varying heights of the growing siblings. One of the glass doors to the dining room was mismatched, apparently after Jason had kicked a soccer ball through it, and then had had to work off the repairs with the local glazier. There were little touches everywhere that showed the house was a home. Photos, knickknacks, an ashtray Vicky had made as a child for her non-smoking father. The well-worn patina on the wooden bannister from an eternity of folks sliding down it. He’d caught Vicky doing just that earlier in the day. Inside, the Hastings home was warm, pleasant, inviting.

He scuffed his toe on a mound of snow as he came up to the boatshed door. Outside, though...could be lethal.

“Come on in, Ryan.” Adam stood inside, with a tool in his hand that looked like an old-fashioned iron. Adam and Jason were already inside, picking up tools from the bench that ran the length of the shed.

Great.
Now they have weapons
.

Ryan ducked his head and entered the shed. Soft light from a bare bulb in the ceiling illuminated what looked like the wooden skeleton of a whale, half-formed and splayed on its back.

“What do you know about boats?” Adam asked as he gestured to the framework.

Ryan’s eyebrows shot up.
This is a boat?
“Not much,” he admitted, coming closer to touch the wood. It had been carved and shaped, and he ran his fingers along the grain. The wood was a beautiful rose color, soft and glowing in the light.

Jason fiddled with a transistor radio on the bench until a steady rock beat filled the shed.

“Put it back on what it was,” Adam called out.

“C’mon, Dad, let’s get some music from this century happening,” Scott protested.

“My radio, my music.”

Jason rolled his eyes but turned the knob on the radio until swing music filled the enclosed space. “I can hear your grave calling you, Pops.”

“You love it. Now, let’s show Ryan what we do here in the man cave,” Adam told his sons, rubbing his hands together. Scott crossed to a little bar fridge nestled under the bench at one end, and pulled out four bottles of chilled beer and passed them round.

“You drink?” Ryan asked as he uncapped his bottle and took a swig.

“And build boats.” Jason sat down on a bench and lifted his bottle to his lips, eyeing Ryan. Vicky’s eldest brother had recently been honorably discharged from the service, and had told Ryan he was taking a break before looking for a job. A damn SEAL, of all things. A good one, too, if the wrestle yesterday in the snow had been any indication. Of course, Reese was already interested in that fact, as he’d told Ryan before he left. Ryan suspected Jason would be receiving a job offer in the New Year.

“Among other things,” Scott said, then leaned down to pick up a hammer.

“Yeah, well, let’s not waste our time chatting let’s get to work. Come on, Ryan, I’ll show you what to do.” Adam Hastings beckoned him over and showed him how to use the wood plane on the timber.

Scott started hammering, and Jason used pencil and ruler to measure out lengths of timber in preparation for cutting.

“What’s this boat for?” Ryan asked, more to make conversation than for any other reason. The Hastings’ property backed on to Lake Michigan, and Ryan had already seen the Hastings’ boat. The guy didn’t really need another one, did he?

“It’s a wedding present,” Adam said nonchalantly, picking up a chisel. Ryan nodded, then realized the two brothers were eyeing him. Ryan glanced at the wooden frame, then at the men around him.

“For who?” he asked slowly, not quite knowing what to think.

“For you, dumbass.” This came from Jason.

“Swear jar,” Adam said, and Jason dug into his pocket and flipped a coin into a jar on the bench. The jar was two-thirds full.

Scott’s eyebrows rose. “Wow. You can tell Jason’s home, eh?”

Ryan blinked. The boat was for him? “For me?”

Adam nodded, then gestured to the wood, and Ryan resumed shaping the wood with the smooth glide and slide motion Adam had shown him.

“Sure,” the older man said. “All of my kids get a boat for their wedding present.” He stared meaningfully at Jason. “When they finally get around to it.” Jason ignored him.

Ryan nodded. Oh, so this was for Vicky. Nice. He kind of liked the idea of working on something like this for her.

“Of course, that means you’re going to have to come around for Sunday dinner each week,” Adam said as he used the chisel to separate two blocks of wood Scott had just nailed together. “This one goes over there, son.”

“Oh.” Scott grimaced.

“Sunday dinner?” Ryan stopped again. He knew Vicky visited as often as she could, it was a family institution. He just hadn’t really thought about how it would affect him.

“Well, yeah, when you’re not off doing whatever the hell it is you do,” Adam responded. He gestured to the wood, and Ryan started up his movements again.

“Oh, okay.”

“Well, how else do you think your boat’s going to get built?” Jason asked.

“My boat?”

Scott laughed. “Well, yeah. Vicky doesn’t mind the water, but she’s no sailor. This one’s for you, chump.”

Ryan stopped, surprised. They were making a boat. For him. Spending time and effort, creating something beautiful, when they hardly knew him.

“Why?” The word was out before he could stop it.

Adam frowned. “Why not? You’re one of us now. How else are you going to race in our Fourth of July family regatta?”

“But...” he touched the rose-tinged wood. Nobody had ever done anything like this for him. He didn’t know quite what to say.

“But nothing. Now get some shoulder action into that shaping. Good stuff doesn’t just happen, son. You have to work hard for it.” Adam slapped him on the back. “And that applies to both boats and women. Remember that.”

Son
. He’d called him son.
One of them
. Ryan started again with the plane as Scott hammered at the framework in his section and Jason donned his goggles before starting the band saw. They worked in companionable silence, swing music and carpentry noises in the background as Ryan tried to process what was happening.

He was building a boat with his soon-to-be in-laws. Not just a boat.
His
boat. He looked up for a moment, and met Adam’s eyes across the hull framework. Adam gave him a silent toast with the beer bottle and a quick wink. Ryan smiled and continued with shaping the wood. Apparently it was a family thing.

* * *

Later that evening, after the dinner dishes had been cleared, Ryan leaned against the living room doorframe as Jason pulled out his guitar and started tuning it. He’d learned that all of the Hastings family members were good singers, and he settled in for another impromptu concert. Vicky came over and handed him a glass of mulled wine. She smelled of cinnamon and spice, and put his arm around her and hugged her close. He couldn’t help the contented smile that drifted across his face. Mulled wine warming him from the inside, and sexy woman warming him on the outside. Snuggle Factor. He loved it.

Jason started with a Christmas carol, and Kai and Kyran instantly joined in, along with their father and grandfather.

On the subject of Snuggle Factor...he drew Vicky slowly out into the hall, the rest of the family oblivious to their disappearance.

“What’s the matter?” Vicky asked as he took her glass and put it with his on the hallway table.

Ryan shook his head. “Nothing. I just wanted to do this.” He gently held her face and lowered his head to kiss her.

Vicky opened her mouth, and he slipped his tongue in to rub against hers. He pulled her closer, sighing as her breasts pressed against his chest. He could feel her nipples tightening between them, little nubs that sent an answering shot of desire straight to his groin. He hardened at the thought of getting closer, getting naked.

Hot. Instant. Always.

That’s what it was like with Vicky. Like a slow combustion stove, always smoldering, ready to spark into flame at the smallest encouragement. He lifted his head slightly as the family in the living room started to sing “Jingle Bells.”

“Oh, this is so not boring,” Vicky panted against his lips.

Ryan arched an eyebrow. “Boring?” No, he’d never have used the word “boring” to describe this.

“Oh, not you, I mean the kiss of—” Vicky raised her gaze to his. “Forget it. Just kiss me again.”

He smiled against her lips. “So damn bossy,” he murmured, before taking her lips in a slow, carnal kiss. He could feel her relax against him, as though her bones had melted. He loved her surrender. Her trust. It both humbled and strengthened him.

His hands drifted down her back to cup her butt, and he growled softly as she tightened her arms around his neck. He bent slightly, lifting her so that her legs wrapped around him, her thighs cradling him.

“What about your arm?” she murmured in between kisses as he started to walk toward the stairs.

“It’s fine.” He was enjoying a textbook recovery.

“Good. Hurry.”

“So damn bossy,” he said, kissing her again, grasping her butt and pulling her even closer, so that he could rub himself against her with each step. God, she was sexy. He quickened his pace as he climbed the stairs.

“Don’t trip this time,” she warned him, and he chuckled against her lips. He stopped laughing when she arched her back, straining against him. He groaned. His cock hardened, and all he could think about was getting her to the closest horizontal surface.

“I love you,” he whispered as he shouldered his way into her room.

“I love you, too,” she whispered back. “Don’t forget to close the door.”

“So damn bossy,” he muttered, kicking the door shut. The tune downstairs changed to one that even he had no trouble recognizing as he set her down on her feet.

“Oh, they’re singing ABBA,” she breathed as she kicked off her shoes and slid her jeans down to her ankles. He stripped, carelessly, quickly. He was not going to let ABBA distract her.

“I’ll make you sing,” he said, picking her up and tossing her onto the queen-sized bed.

She laughed as she bounced on the mattress. She lifted her top over her head and threw it carelessly. He ducked to avoid it. Her hair was tousled, her cheeks rosy. Her lilac-colored underwear revealing a lush, feminine body that aroused him, humbled him. To him, Vicky was beautiful. She was his anchor. His friend. His family.

Her laugh changed to a high-pitched squeal, followed by a throaty moan, as he followed her down onto the bed.

She had to admit, he was right. He did make her sing.

* * * * *

The suspense builds in this fast-paced
series from Shannon Curtis.

Get the first two installments of the
McCormack Security Agency series, available now!

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Noah Samuels hates stuck-up, prim people like Jessica. He’s more the blunt, straightforward type. After a near miss on his first day on the job, Noah realizes that the stalker isn’t just hype cooked up to sell books—the threat is real. As the stalker escalates from letters to letter bombs, Noah sees a vulnerable side of Jessica that rouses more than just his protective instincts. But can she let down her guard long enough to trust Noah before it’s too late?

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Security expert Luke is intent on seeing the murderous spy known only as Viper brought to justice. Just as they give in to lust, new evidence convinces Luke that Maggie’s not as innocent as she claims to be. Devastated by Luke’s inability to trust her, Maggie runs again. She’s determined to clear her name, and if that means tracking down a notorious spy even Interpol can’t seem to locate, then that’s exactly what she’ll do...

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