Page 90 of Tyson
"Love you," I whispered against his lips, the words slipping out without permission. "Even when you're being all growly and overprotective."
"Love you too," he murmured back, pressing his forehead to mine. "Especially when you're being a complete pain in my—"
BANG BANG BANG.
We froze like teenagers caught by parents, the aggressive knocking shattering our stolen moment.
"Occupado!" Tyson called out in possibly the worst Spanish accent I'd ever heard. It was so unexpected, so ridiculous, that a giggle bubbled up despite the situation.
"That you, Tyson?" Duke's voice through the door made my blood turn to ice. Of course. Of fucking course it would be Duke. "Kitchen emergency. Be right out."
"Kitchen emergency," Duke repeated, his tone flat as old beer. "In the bathroom. Sure."
We held perfectly still, barely breathing, waiting for the sound of his footsteps to fade. When they finally did, I collapsed against Tyson's chest, giggles overtaking me.
"Occupado?" I gasped between laughs. "That's your cover? What kitchen emergency could you possibly have in a bathroom?"
"Shut up," he muttered, but I could feel him fighting a smile. "Panic Spanish is a thing."
"Kitchen emergency," I repeated, mimicking Duke's skeptical tone. "We're so busted."
"This isn't funny." But his lips twitched, betraying him. "You're going to get us both killed. Or worse—lectured by Duke about operational security."
"Worth it," I declared, stealing another quick kiss because apparently I had no self-preservation instincts left. The champagne made everything feel floaty and reckless, like consequences were something that happened to other people.
He groaned, setting me back on my feet with visible reluctance. "You head out first, I’ll follow in a couple minutes."
"Sir, yes sir," I gave him a mock salute that made him narrow his eyes.
"Keep it up, little girl. See what happens when we get home."
The promise in his voice made me shiver, already anticipating later. But first, we had to survive Duke's scrutiny and whatever other disasters the night had in store.
Tyson cracked the door, checking the hallway like we were executing a military operation. "Clear. Go."
I slipped past him, pausing just long enough to whisper, "Occupado," in his ear, delighting in his frustrated growl.
To my surprise and delight, I felt a short, sharp smack to my bottom.
“Ouch, Daddy.”
“Don’t ‘ouch’ me, young lady.”
I grinned, winked, and headed back out on deck.
I'dsuccessfullyavoidedTysonsince our bathroom encounter, though every nerve in my body stayed tuned to his frequency. He'd reclaimed his spot on the upper deck, surrounded by brothers but somehow still apart, that careful distance he maintained when thinking too hard about something. Probably about how Duke had absolutely made us in that bathroom.
"Truth or dare!" Mandy's voice cut through my brooding. She'd reached the perfect level of drunk—coordinated enough to stand but uninhibited enough to think party games were profound. "Bride edition! Everyone in a circle!"
The bridesmaids gathered on the main deck, a giggling mass of satin and champagne bubbles. Someone had produced a bottle to spin, because apparently we were thirteen years old again. Ifolded myself into the circle, careful to keep the purple dress from riding up too far.
"First question!" Mandy spun the bottle with drunken ceremony. It landed on Mia, who also looked liked she was pretty merry. "How well do you know Duke? What's his biggest fear?"
"Commitment," Mia shouted without hesitation, making everyone burst into laughter. Duke's offended "Hey!" from the upper deck only made us laugh harder.
"What's Thor's biggest fear?" Mandy countered.
"Feelings," the whole boat answered in unison, including some of the brothers. Thor's middle finger appeared over the railing, which just encouraged us.
