I explain, “I don’t care about impressing anyone. What I’m worried about is tipping off one of our main suspects.”
“I can lick the mascara off your face, if you’d like?” he offers.
I laugh at the brute in front of me, knowing he would without hesitation. “You’re a caveman. You know that?”
He laughs, “And you’re a PhD candidate in anthropology, so I’m perfect for you. The ultimate study subject.”
The knowledge he’s been keeping tabs on me and my current studies makes my heart swell. It’s public knowledge, but he still cared enough to find out. “We’ll see about the PhD. I still have most of a dissertation to write. And I may want to change the topic anyway.”
“To what?” he asks with a suspicious side-eye.
“Caveman mating rituals.”
He turns on his heel so quickly I bump into him. It doesn’t phase the giant one bit. Lifting me off the ground, he covers my mouth with his, taking full possession of me until I’m dizzy and breathless. “There’s your first observation, pretty girl,” he says, letting my body slide down his before he takes my hand again. He’s already hard as a rock, and my body pulses greedily with need. “Let’s go finish this so you can get back to studying what I like to do in my cave.”
Chapter Fourteen
WOLFE
After lining out the guys and making sure everything is going to plan, the waiting game begins. Fortunately, my part of that waiting game involves keeping Izzie safe at her home. I don’t want her anywhere near that museum when shit hits the fan.
We walk into her house, and I turn on the light in the entryway. I notice the neat little rows of Buddha and bodhisattva replicas on a decorative table. Some I recognize from the originals her and the crew worked on in Afghanistan.
The entryway leads into an open-air floor plan with an immaculate kitchen and airy living room, richly decorated in shades of blue, burgundy, and emerald green, evocative of a South Asian bazaar. Izzie wraps her arms around me from behind, and it’s the best fucking feeling ever. But I can’t give into what I’ve wanted for so long until I’m sure she’s as committed as I am.
I pull her by her arms around to the front of me, savoring the ability to freely kiss my wife after all of this time. Ironically, it’s come on the edge of finalizing our divorce. But I’m hoping after tonight, we’ll have many of the problems from our pastresolved. “Go take a shower,” I order. “Then, we’ll reconvene here.”
“Do you want to join me?” she asks seductively.
The thought of her slippery, soapy body is almost too much to bear. But I need to do this right. So, I say, “Absolutely, one hundred percent. But not this time, baby. I need to take care of a few things. Go get relaxed, just don’t keep me waiting too long. ”
She looks equal parts puzzled and turned-on as she pads off to the master bathroom. As soon as she’s out of sight, I go to work checking her home security, making sure every window and door is locked and all of the shades are drawn.
She needs security cameras and motion lights. I’ve tried to tell her this before. But she can be so stubborn when she digs in her heels. She also needs a guard dog, although I’m ready to be that and much more for her this weekend.
This is going to be a long weekend without much sleep, and that’s not just me being hopeful. I don’t want to take any chances with her safety. Especially with what’s going down. Dick’s a snake, and he knows some very dangerous people. He also likely knows where Izzie lives, and I wouldn’t put anything past him.
I take a quick shower in the kids’ bathroom, working hard not to trip over bath toys and the residue from God-only-knows how many bubblegum-scented bubble baths. I put my boxers and khakis back on, walking barefoot around the house, gathering everything else I need.
By the time Izzie reappears, wearing a long, silky black robe and her golden locks wrapped in a towel, I’ve got the coffee table set up with freshly poured wine glasses, an open bottle of Merlot I snagged from her collection, and candles. I’m sitting cross-legged on the floor as if I’m about to start feasting at adastarkhaan.
Izzie’s face beams as she grabs a coupleoverstuffed pillows from the couch and folded blankets, throwing me a pillow and blanket. Then, she sits with her legs to one side reclining against the blanket and pillow she grabbed for herself. She lifts her glass of wine, asking, “What’s the name of the game, Private Ormsby?”
I laugh, feeling nostalgic. When Izzie and I met, we sometimes had lots of free time to kill together. Inevitably, it led to games and some pretty risqué behavior. “I never could understand why a little slip of a thing like you would play drinking games with a six foot six inch, two hundred thirty pound soldier like me. But I guess some things never change. Truth or Dare.”
“First, I’m not a little slip of anything. Second, I did it so you’d finally start talking to me. You were painfully shy when we met. Even if you don’t remember.”
“What I remember was how impressively smart you were and my grave fear of putting my foot in my mouth. Besides, my mission was to protect you at all costs, not converse with you.”
She nods, her eyes straying to the scar on my chest. “Thankfully, I remember how quickly Truth or Dare got you past some of that shyness,” she finishes, her cheeks warming.
The whole hickey thing started with her, when she dared me to give her a kiss she wouldn’t forget. By far, one of her most innocent dares. As for the others, I simmer just thinking about them. “Some of your dares… Fuck, Izzie. I’ll never forget what you made me do to you.”
“I won’t, either,” she replies, winking and sipping her wine. “Are you blushing, Private Ormsby?”
I laugh sheepishly, swallowing hard as memories wash over me. This is not the first time she’s asked me that. “I wouldn’t call it blushing, but heating up, yes.”
“Heating up is good. Those dares were the only way to getyou to admit, and act out, what we both felt. So, who goes first?”
