“Why?”
“Because …” She looked away. “I don’t know. I never thought I’d find my mate. Let alone someone like you, Maverick.”
He brushed his fingers along the curve of her face again.
“Well, thankfully, you didn’t have to look too hard.”
“No, I just had to wait for you to get yourself into trouble.”
“What can I say? I like to keep things interesting.”
Amused, she shook her head. “That’s certainly one way to put it.”
Giving her a cheeky grin, he lifted himself off her. “I need to stop before I bury myself in you again. You’re quite the distraction, Pilar.”
She sat up on her elbows, raising a brow at him. “You can blame us being mates for that one.”
“I think it’s more because you're irresistibly beautiful.”
She laughed again and shoved her hands against his chest.
“Get dressed. We’ve got agents to call and crime syndicates to take down.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely.”
Lifting himself up off the mattress, he grabbed the bag that Pilar had bought him and rummaged through it, pulling out a pair of pants and slipping them on over his boxers. A perfect fit.
“Damn, I’ve never been this muscley in my life.”
Pilar swung her leg over the side of the bed, standing and smacking his side gently with the back of her hand.
“Kind of the point.”
He laughed and pulled her against his chest, feeling every perfect curve on her body fit against him perfectly. He felt his body start to stir again, wanting to lay Pilar on that bed and have his way with her until they were both unconscious.
But he couldn’t, in good faith, continue to keep putting the Hal thing off any longer. Not if he wanted to protect Pilar … his mate.
He didn’t want either of them to fear walking outside his door and being attacked again or worse. This all needed to endnow.
Pilar patted his chest as if sensing the thoughts. “Let me get dressed, and then we can head out.”
He nodded, letting her pull away from him. “Sounds good.”
Stepping outside of his bedroom, Maverick headed back into the kitchen to grab his phone. He scrolled through his contacts, his thumb hovering over the number he had come to hate. He had dug it up after the attack just in case.
“Maverick!” Pilar called from the bedroom. “Make sure to pack an extra set of clothes in case you shred your new ones from shifting.”
He tapped his screen, bringing up a new text message.
“K,” he called back to her.
He typed on his screen, his fingers shaking slightly as the adrenaline coursed through him. He re-read the single sentence before hitting send and setting his phone back down.
It read:I’m ready to help you.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
PILAR