“Kayla and I.” Phin smiled. “She enjoyed Nicola’s downfall more than a little.”
Zeke opened his mouth to ask his brother if he had shared the details of the FBI’s case with the lobbyist, then closed it. Everything was so tangled right now, he couldn’t muster a single gives-a-shit.
“She backed off the sword?”
Phin nodded.
“So Lederman fades into the shadows, and I suppose the St. Martins go free since there’s no law against stealing from yourself.”
“Liv saw several pieces in Nicola’s museum that were on the FBI’s Most Wanted list,” Rohan said. “Thanks to Liv and Ash, Nicola’s black-market dealings are over.”
Why hadn’t Liv told him any of this? For two weeks, they had been each other’s shadow. At least, at night. Evidently, during the day, she was putting together an airtight case while he pulled hair from a clogged sink and packed up toys.
Reading his mind, Rohan said, “She wanted to tell you, but we made her promise not to say anything.”
“Why the hell not?”
“For one,” Rohan nodded toward the sword, “we wanted this moment with you.”
His brother’s quiet words ripped the wind out of his self-righteous sail. They hadn’t just pushed a piece of paper into Nicola’s face and walked out with the sword. They had annihilated the threat to him.
“And two,” Cruz said, picking up the baton, “you needed, no, deserved, two weeks where the hardest thing you had to worry about was how to make love to your lady without the boy hearing you. You deserved to be happy.” He swirled a hand in the air. “All of this could wait.”
All of thisthey did without him. Without his hovering, without his two cents. Without his constant management of, well, everything.
They loved BARS as much as he did. Failure was bound to happen, but it wouldn’t be due to less than one hundred percent effort.
Zeke’s throat tightened. His gaze touched on each brother—Cruz, legs stretched out before him, his back buried deep in the cushions, Rohan, tapping out something on his phone before clicking it off and sending him a rogue’s grin, and, Phin, one hip propped on the edge of Rohan’s chair, staring pensively into his drink.
He loved these guys and mentally reaffirmed his promise to give them the space they needed to do their jobs and to always have their backs.
“Thank you,” he said. “I don’t know what else to say, but thank you.”
“It’s more than enough, bro,” Cruz said.
“You going to speak to Ash?” Phin asked.
Zeke nodded. “I owe him my thanks, too.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
He gave his kid brother a half smile. “I know.”
“Someone’s looking for her bed warmer,” Rohan said, indicating the staircase.
Liv’s sudden appearance explained the reason for his brother’s nefarious smile and dancing fingers.
She looked beautiful with her hair down and clad in a simple T-shirt and pajama bottoms. The hesitant look on her face, as if she feared he would be upset with her for keeping her activities secret, had him draining the last of his whiskey and bidding his brothers good night.
There was still a lot there to unpack, but all he wanted in that moment was to hold her. Kiss her until her knees grew weak, then carry her upstairs and show her in a thousand different ways how much he loved her.
He paused on the step below. “Hey.”
She gave him a small smile. “Hey.”
“You’ve been busy.”
“I’m sorry—”