“Ishouldn’t be working with an agent at all,” Speed countered and fired a finger gun at Blake. He was folding the throw blanket and rolled his eyes at Speed as he laid it on the foot of the bed and sat on the edge.
He didn’t look like he planned to stay so Speed reached for his book. He was readingPride And Prejudice.Speed thought it might help him figure out how to give Blake the perfect proposal. It was considered one of the best books ever written and it was about falling in love and getting married, after all. There was a lot of proposing going on, but so far, all Speed had learned was that Blake was just like Jane—beautiful, kind, and only able to see the good in others. While Speed was more of a Mr. Wickham.
“Do you have a better solution than getting shot and stringing Francis along?” Blake asked quietly. His nose wrinkled apologetically and he gave Speed’s foot a gentle squeeze. “Give yourself a little time to get used to the idea. Agent Beesley came out of nowhere and you had different expectations. But I think this could be good for you. I’m going to clean up the kitchen and get a head start on dinner. I’m making chicken tacos.”
“You’re probably right,” Speed conceded. It was a lot easier to swallow with Blake than with Lavender.
“Call me if you need anything,” Blake said, then left Speed with his thoughts.
Blake was far more objective and Speed didn’t have to worry about what his priorities were. He was predisposed to trust the FBI, but in Beesley’s case, Blake’s trust wasn’t misplaced. Even Speed could see that Sloan had chosen well. Any agent dealing with Lavender and Lake Cliff would have to have a strong backbone, a good sense of humor, and balls as big and as tough as coconuts. That was the opposite of Speed’s idea of a good time but Blake was right. Again. Speed didn’t have a better way out than to string Francis along until he could be prosecuted.
There was another incentive to handing Francis off to Beesley…
Speed sat up and leaned, listening to make sure Blake hadn’t come upstairs before opening the drawer on his bedside table. He took out the ring box and sighed longingly.
The more sensible ring was still safely hidden in the closet butthisring called to Speed whenever he was in their room. And he was always in their room. Speed was able to get up and do more and he was in a lot less pain. Hawk was showing him how to work basic physical therapy exercises into his routine but Speed was still exiled to the bed or the sofa downstairs. Blake said he didn’t want Speed to overdo it just because he was restless. But Speed suspected that Blake didn’t want Speed causing trouble in the neighborhood or giving Lavender another reason to blow up at them.
Everyone would be a lot happier with Speed and he could propose without Francis hanging over his head. Speed was ready to let Francis go but he wasn’t sure if his conscience was. He wasn’t going to feellessguilty after he sent Francis away for the rest of his life. It didn’t matter that Speed knew Francis deserved it. He might have accepted that Francis was a monster but Speed didn’t want him to suffer.
“What’s done is done.”
It’s what Mickey had always said when he had to accept something he didn’t like. Having Beesley in charge of the case against Francis would only support the idea that the FBI was cleaning up its mole problem and getting rid of a dangerous liability with Mickey.
Once Speed was sure Francis wouldn’t blame him, he’d give Beesley the number and move on. He stared at the ring until it blurred, mesmerized and aching as he imagined sliding it on Blake’s finger. Speed got chills every time he heard Blake say yes in his head and he longed to finally hear it.
“Soon,” he promised himself and went back to his book. Accepting that it was time to let go of Francis was all well and good but Speed was still stuck until he came up with a plan for the perfect proposal.
ChapterSeven
“Sweet Jesus!” Blake panted at the ceiling. Speed snatched his left hand and Blake’s laugh was a breathless wheeze. They were both shaking after Speed kneeled between Blake’s thighs and proved he could do a lot with only one arm. He had started out slow and careful, filling Blake with deep, grinding thrusts. But Speed could be so persuasive and he had the filthiest mouth. Blake ended up on his knees, begging to be held down and fucked harder. “I love you,” Blake said as he rolled toward Speed and kissed his shoulder.
“I love you too.” Speed twisted onto his side so they were nose-to-nose. “Let me make breakfast. I feel great and you’ve been waiting on me for weeks.”
“Nope!” Blake kissed him loudly, then scrambled out of the bed. He swiped his sweatpants off the floor and hopped into them before Speed could protest. “Youdeserve breakfast in bed. I’ve got the perfect bread for French toast and I saw this recipe for roasted cherry tomatoes I want to try,” he explained, then narrowed his eyes at Speed. “I see what you did there. You could have just told me you were hungry and wanted your coffee.”
He beamed at Blake as he sat back against the pillows. “But look at how much more fun that was for you. It didn’t feel at all like work, did it?”
“It never feels like work when I’m cooking for you,” Blake said as he stretched across the bed and kissed Speed.
“You’re spoiling me. You always spoil me.”
“You deserve it,” Blake whispered against Speed’s lips but they parted on a loud laugh. Speed held onto Blake for a moment then patted his shoulder.
“That was a good one. You’re the only person in the world who’s ever going to believe that, but God bless you, I’m so glad you’re mine.”
“Whatever. Stay here and don’t get into any trouble.” Blake glared at Speed playfully as he left. He turned and pointed severely at Speed just before he reached the door.
Speed threw his good hand up and was still laughing. “I won’t move a muscle!” He swore dramatically.
“Good luck with that,” Blake muttered as he headed down the hall, then snorted. He had actually tested all the walls in the closet to make sure Speed didn’t have a secret control room hidden upstairs. “Coffee’s ready!” He smelled the heady aroma as he turned at the bottom of the stairs. Blake remembered to set the timer before he went up for bed so he patted himself on the back on his way into the kitchen. “I’ll run this up to him, then start the French toast,” he decided as he grabbed a mug and set the oven to preheat for the tomatoes.
Blake made each of them a cup of coffee and was sipping his as he made his way up the stairs. He used his foot to push the bedroom door open a little wider and paused when Speed swore and stuffed his hand under the duvet.
“You ok?” Blake asked, raising a brow at Speed. “Thought I’d bring this up for you to drink while you were waiting for breakfast.”
“Great!” Speed said quickly as he pushed himself up straighter and scooted back. Blake set down their cups so he could fix Speed’s pillows.
“Is your arm bothering you? I can help you into the sling before I run back down,” he offered but Speed shook his head.