Page 99 of Lesson In Honesty

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Page 99 of Lesson In Honesty

“A few reasons. We were grieving and it seemed wrong to take such a huge step, like we were leaving Wyatt behind. The new, almost improved Wyatt, not the asshat of old, I hasten to add. Grief passed, but a whole new issue arose and took precedence. I didn’t want Sierra to believe I was proposing to try and distract her from the fact we can’t get pregnant.” He ran a hand through his hair. “And then there was the niggling sensation that one day we would find the one who’d finally complete us. I believe in the sanctity of marriage, Mack. I don’t want to marry Sierraand then just tack on another person like a second driver on my damn truck insurance. Three people committed to spending the rest of their lives together, sliding on wedding rings and signing the paperwork as one being. That’s the dream, for both of us.”

Mack rubbed his fist over his heart.

“If I have to take a guess at what the future holds, I’m pretty sure you’ll be the one standing with us, Maverick. If that’s what you want. I’m willing to wait; she’s mine whether there’s a ring on her finger or not. The question is whether you want to be ours.”

Holy shit, Tristan was going to have a fit when he found out there was a marriage proposal, and that he was partially responsible. It would probably escalate into cardiac arrest when he discovered Mack only had one answer.

“Yeah. Yes,” he repeated. “I want that. Not yet, not when there’s still so much to learn about each other, but when the time comes… I’ll stand with you, Liam, and marry you both.”

Liam moved faster than anticipated, drawing Mack into a strong hug. “She is gonna be pissed she missed this. All I can say is, welcome to the family, Mack. We’re in for a wild ride, I think.”

“Damn straight.” He held on for several long seconds, then drew away. “I’m gonna go for that fresh air. I won’t be long.”

“Yeah, you do that.”

He felt the carpet beneath his feet as he walked to the door and slipped out into the hallway. There was warmth on his skin, the scent of lemon furniture polish, bright winter sunlight beaming through the expansive glass wall of the house.

Yet he floated, lighter than helium.

He’d made a spur of the moment choice and didn’t feel an ounce of regret. Maybe selling the company and moving to Denver was ultimately the right decision; he hadn’t discussed it with Liam or Sierra, not wanting to ruin their time together with business and the shitshow back home.

Creeping across the living room, he was surprised to see there was no evidence left of what had transpired there the previous afternoon. The rigging was gone, there was no sign of ropes or a spare item of forgotten clothing.

The carpet was pristine, not a drop of cum in sight, and even the cloying scent of sex was absent. After all the sweating and rutting that occurred, the room should smell like a high school locker room combined with a brothel—instead, he smelled clean, fresh citrus.

To his left, a door was almost fully open, not quite blocking the computer setup behind it. Levi was sitting in a leather office chair, one elbow on the rest, the other manipulating the wireless mouse on the desktop.

Barefooted—was that a theme now?—and bare chested, the photographer wore a pair of headphones tucked into his ears, only identifiable by the small blue light. A pair of glasses perched on his nose as he leaned toward the screen, utterly consumed by his work.

Leaving him to it, Mack headed out onto the deck overlooking the valley, easing open the sliding glass door. Walking to the guardrail, he set his hands on it and gazed out over the wintery landscape.

It would make one hell of a setting for a wedding, he thought, then laughed at himself. Forward thinking already, but it was too easy to imagine Sierra in a stunning white dress, framed by that fucking view as she gave her life to her husbands.

Yeah, that definitely made him feel a lot lighter.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, he ignored the additional dozen emails from his manager and went straight for the call.

“Maverick, thank God.” Tim Johnson, the irreplaceable research and development manager, broke the record for fastest answer; he picked up before the first peal ended. “I know you’re on vacation, I’m so sorry to disturb you. I just don’t know whatto do. Everyone’s panicking, half the staff are losing their minds—”

“Tim, Tim, calm down. Was there a fire? Has one of the experiments decided to get up and walk its robotic self out into public?”

“What? No. It’s worse, so much worse—”

“Tim. Calm down and fucking breathe. When you can speak without falling over your own tongue, then you can tell me what’s wrong.”

Loud, forced exhales rasped down the line.

What the hell was happening back home to cause this disagree of panic? Setting the call to speakerphone, Mack set the device on the railing and started to pace the deck to offset the cold and keep his own dread from rising up and strangling him.

Finally, Tim breathed out in one long, slow exhale. “The buyers must have requested another viewing of the facilities; they turned up unannounced on Thursday with one of your lawyers in tow.”

Yes, he was aware of that. Of the request, not that his lawyers had obliged.

Mack scowled, making a mental note to ream out his legal representatives. “Which lawyer?”

“Not one we’ve seen before. Honestly, he seemed like an underling, Mack. Didn’t have a handle on the building layout, what we do here, nothing. It was almost as if he was just a skeleton key to get them in.”

“You get a name?”




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