Mitch had been gone a lot this week, leaving me entirely alone in the safehouse. He told me there were heavy-duty cameras and defense systems in place, ensuring the perimeter was ironclad while he was gone for eight hours a day. But ever since that night in the shower, everything between us had been weird. Completely, deliciously weird.
Despite the thick, suffocating sexual tension that wrapped around the house every time we shared a room, Mitch had gone right back to being closed off and fiercely serious. He was a phantom walking the hallways, monitoring perimeters, and treating me with a clinical, detached precision that was driving me absolutely insane.
He would make me breakfast every morning, his voice flat and robotic as he broke down exactly where he was going, treating it like a mandatory tactical briefing. Once, he coldly asked if I wanted to go with him just to ensure I didn't breach the perimeter again. Yet, underneath the rigid discipline, the lines were blurring. One afternoon, I had fallen asleep on the living room sofa, only to wake up to the feather-light sensation of his rough fingers gently tucking my hair behind my ear before he instantly snapped back into a rigid posture, pretending it hadn't happened.
He was a phenomenal cook, too, though he prepared meals with the silent efficiency of a man assembling a weapon. I'd mention a random craving in passing, and without a word or a smile, he'd remember. He started bringing my absolute favorite foods home from the grocery store, setting them on the counter without an explanation. We were acting exactly like we were supposed to for our cover. Like a real couple.
But the lack of touch since the shower was driving me insane. I hadn't snuck out again, but lately, the thought was constantly crossing my mind just to see what he would do. I wanted to see if he'd chase me down again. I wanted him to catch me, pin me against a wall, and finally do me right there in the dark.
"I baked cupcakes," Mitch announced, his tone stiff and businesslike as he broke my train of thought. He didn't look at me as the rich, sweet scent of red velvet instantly flooded the kitchen.
I looked up, trying to shake the dirty thoughts from my head. "God, they're going to make fun of me."
"But," Mitch said, his voice entirely deadpan as he slid a freshly frosted cupcake across the counter, the buttercream perfectly piped. "It's super tasty." He actually wiggled it in front of my face, a sudden, unexpected spark of attitude breaking through his stoic mask.
Before I could bite into it, the doorbell rang. I froze, my eyes darting to Mitch, expecting him to go on high alert.
"They're literally your friends," he pointed toward the foyer, his tone shifting into a sudden, sarcastic banter.
"Fine." I got up from the new dining table we'd set up a couple of days ago and opened the door.
"Thank God, I thought you were kidnapped!" Madison gasped, throwing her arms around me.
Her boyfriend, Jordan, pushed right past us into the house, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on the kitchen. "Boyfriend?" he asked, pointing directly at Mitch, who was currently standing by the stove wearing a kitchen apron and bright blue oven mitts.
"I am boyfriend," Mitch replied without missing a beat, completely abandoning his cold operative demeanor to match Jordan's blunt energy.
"I have to ask you some questions," Jordan said, walking over to press against the kitchen island.
Jordan was fiercely protective of me, but he also knew I was good at knowing what I wanted. He hadn't hesitated to risk his life when he first heard that Brandon—Ghost—had taken me. When Brandon and I first started dating, he was fine, but then he got obsessive. He started sending me out to do things I didn't want to do, making me drop off dirty money to people who sold highly illegal things. I only did it to keep Elena safe. The second I had tried to say no, Brandon threatened to shoot me, and Elena would have been dead.
I forced myself to stop thinking about the past. What I hadn't told Mitch was what Stan and Irene had kept hidden from my files. They had done me a massive favor by burying it. Only Jordan and Madison knew the full depth of what I'd been through with Ghost, and they were the ones who had helped me survive it.
"You like him?" Madison whispered, glancing over at Mitch. The deadly black-ops operative was currently looking deadpan and serious, yet matching Jordan's vibe perfectly while answering his ridiculous, interrogation-style questions about my favorite colors and habits.
"Elena told me you haven't visited in a long time, that worried us," Madison continued, her deep brown eyes softening. She was stunning, her big curly hair perfectly framed her face, contrasting beautifully with the long skirt with a high slit and the tube top she was wearing. She knew this get-together wasn't an official party, just a quick check-in to show them I was breathing, yet she still showed up dressed to turn heads.
"I know what you're thinking. I heard you had a pool," Madison murmured, reading my mind as she playfully flicked the strap of her bathing suit top. She walked past me, heading straight toward the double glass doors leading to the backyard.
Suddenly, Jordan's deep voice vibrated through the room from the kitchen. "No alcohol?!"
"Honey, we don't drink anymore. Tell the man," Mitch called out. His voice was pitched slightly higher than usual, and he was smiling way too much for this to be normal. Even with the performative tone, his eyes drifted over to me, holding my gaze with an effortless, steady intensity that didn't break, making my heart thump.
I swallowed down a sudden spike of heat at the word *honey*. I forced a matching, overly bright smile onto my face. "Of course, sweetie pie." Turning my back to Mitch, I instantly dropped the smile and looked at Jordan with a heavy frown. "He doesn't let me drink," I whispered.
"You do have a problem," Jordan whispered back, completely serious.
"Heh. A big problem," Mitch laughed in his normal, deep voice, having easily overheard us.
I rolled my eyes. I wasn't *that* bad. After he caught me sneaking out that first night, he actually had let me go out to a local spot to drink a few times. He'd be right there, sometimes having a single drink with me, and since he was basically playing designated driver, I had used it as an excuse to get entirely shitfaced. But last week, he ended up holding my hair back while I threw up for thirty minutes straight before passing out cold on his chest. That was the exact moment Mitch ranted that this wasn't the job he signed up for. He lectured me about how dangerous it was to be intoxicated when Ghost or his allies could strike at any moment.
Of course, I had been completely unconscious while he said all that. He apparently decided right then that red velvet cupcakes and Red Bull were my new vice. No more alcohol.
"Where's Madison? She doesn't want to ask me questions?" Mitch asked, finally pulling off the apron and the oven mitts.
"Nah, if Jordan approves, then we all approve," I shrugged, my eyes tracking the ripple of his muscles as he set the mitts down. Seeing him be so loose, friendly, and effortlessly humorous with my friends was doing something to me. It cracked open the hard, terrifying shell of the assassin, showing me the real man underneath. A profound shift occurred in my chest, and I realized I was slowly, genuinely falling for him.
Jordan folded his arms, looking Mitch up and down. "Alright, man, let's see. If you really know her like you say you do, what's her star sign? Bitches love star signs, and she definitely complains like a true Taurus."
Mitch didn't even blink. He leaned against the counter, completely relaxed, a small, knowing smirk tugging at his lips. "She's a Taurus, but she's right on the Gemini cusp. Which explains why she can be incredibly stubborn one minute, and completely unpredictable the next. Like sneaking out when she's told to stay put."
My jaw dropped slightly, my face burning as Mitch maintained direct eye contact with me while answering. Jordan let out a low bark of laughter, clearly impressed.
Madison walked back inside from the patio, shivering slightly. "It's too cold out there. What are we talking about?"
"Well, since Jordan approves... I think you approved, right?" Mitch looked directly at him, completely ignoring Jordan's comment.
"Yeah, whatever. You knew her star sign. Who even knows that?" Jordan grumbled, reaching down to grab a cupcake.
"Then I can do this," Mitch said smoothly. He walked around the counter, stepping directly into my personal space. The sudden proximity made my heart do a violent flip.
"What are you doing?" I muttered through gritted teeth, entirely flustered as his eyes locked onto mine.
"Just say yes," he murmured back, his low, rich tone sending a shiver straight down my spine.
He cleared his throat, turning back to my friends. "Lauren Marie Rose," he said, his voice wavering slightly as he tried to sound profoundly serious. He dropped down onto one knee.
*No way.*
"Will you do me the favor of making me the happiest man alive?"
I let out a fake, audible gasp, playing along with the cover as I held my trembling hand out to him. "Oh my god! Yes, Mitch!"
"The ring," Madison urged, leaning closer with a huge smile. "I approve."
Mitch pulled a small velvet box from his pocket, opened it, and slipped a massive, breathtaking diamond ring onto my finger. The weight of it felt shockingly real.
He stood up, towering over me again, but instead of stepping back, his large hand came up to cup the back of my neck. Before I could even process the movement, his head tilted and his lips crashed down onto mine.
It wasn't a fake, polite fiance kiss. It was deep, bruising, and heavy with a desperate, needing hunger that absolutely leveled me. His tongue slipped past my lips, claiming my mouth like he'd been starved for it, his thumb pressing firmly into my jawline to hold me still against him. My mind went completely blank, the sheer, explosive heat of him driving all the air right out of my lungs. I forgot to breathe, my fingers clutching tightly at his chest just to stay upright as he poured weeks of bottled-up frustration into the kiss. He kissed me like he'd been waiting for this exact second since the night in the shower.
When he finally pulled away, his breathing was heavy, his dark eyes fiercely dark as he looked down at me. I was completely dazed, my chest heaving as I desperately tried to catch my breath, my lips tingling and swollen.
Across the room, Madison and Jordan exchange a wide-eyed, intensely awkward look. The raw, heavy sexual energy vibrating between Mitch and me was so thick it practically choked the air out of the room.
"Right!" Madison cleared her throat loudly, suddenly looking at her phone while signaling Jordan toward the front door with frantic urgency. "We will leave now, because you two definitely need some... alone time to celebrate. Congrats!"
"Yeah, we're out. Have fun with the trip," Jordan added, practically backing out of the foyer to escape the tension.
As they hurried out, Madison shot me a very explicit look over her shoulder, pointedly tapping her screen. The second the front door clicked shut and the lock turned, my phone buzzed in my hand. I unlocked it with trembling fingers to see a text from her:
*Please ride his dick that diamond is huge and he looks like he wants to eat you alive. Have fun!!*
A breathless, flustered laugh escaped me, and I quickly locked the screen, my cheeks burning.
"We have to act like a married couple,it was Irene's order." Mitch informed me, his playful, friendly demeanor completely vanishing, replaced instantly by that heavy, dominant seriousness that always made my knees weak.
"Aw. And here I really thought you wanted to marry me," I teased sarcastically, taking a bold step closer to him, the lingering heat of his mouth making the sexual tension snap right back into place like a taut wire.
