Chapter Nineteen
Morning
The Castle
A New Day
To be honest, that was the best sleep she’d ever had—or at least had in the longest time. Maybe it was because she’d had a night out, a little fun, and to be cuddled against a very sexy man, but whatever it was…
She was here for it.
Moving slightly, Ethan’s body shifted with hers, and he nuzzled her shoulder with his face.
“Mmmmm…morning already?” he asked. “Dehydrated.”
She laughed.
“I think what saved us was Graham wouldn’t let us get into the hard stuff. I don’t feel hungover.”
Lucky her.
His mouth was so dry a camel could call it home.
“Speak for yourself,” he stated. “I’m an old man, and nights like that aren’t as easy to recover from. Why do you think Callen and I don’t revert back to the bullshit we once did?”
She snorted.
“Well, you looked sexy dancing in a pub in Scotland. All you needed was a kilt.”
He was amused by his wife.
Rolling to his back, she went with him, and they stayed cuddled together in the middle of the bed.
“If my wife wants me in a kilt, I’m wearing a kilt,” he admitted. “Oh, and if I’m wearing one, so are Callen, Chris, and Gene. I’m going to make them have fun with me in a skirt.”
She kissed him on the mouth and brushed some of his midnight black hair out of his eyes.
“If you think I’ll let them say no…”
He found her amusing.
Oh, he was well aware of the fact that she wouldn’t. There were no levels to her depravity when it came to sexy men with easy access.
He knew his wife.
She had a kink, and it was mostly them—not that he’d complain. He preferred her to be all about them because that’s how it should be.
“I’m going to get the boys in them, too. Koda, CJ, EJ, and Christopher Anthony—for the wedding.”
Ethan laughed.
“Oh, they are NOT going to like that. Koda will do it because Coraline will be amused by it, but our sons…Christopher Anthony will be the hardest to convince. He’s not one to make a spectacle. The other two…”
Oh, she was aware.
Only, a mother had ways.
“I’ll bribe them. I’m not above it.”
Yeah, that would actually work. The boys were pretty easy when it came to bribery. Offer them a cookie, or pizza…
“CJ and EJ want motor bikes.”
Now, it was her turn to laugh.
And laugh.
And laugh.
“Oh, Ethan, that’s never happening. They can bet that I’ll roll over in my grave before I see either of them flying around on a motorbike. I’m crazy. I haven’t lost my goddamn mind.”
Well, that had yet to be seen because he knew their sons. They were just like their fathers in a lot of ways. Oh, and it didn’t help that their mother also could ride a motorcycle.
And had one.
The ‘do as I say, not as I do’ spiel only went so far when they got to a certain age, and that frontal cortex started questioning everything.
“They’ll steal ours.”
Oh, they’d better not.
“The difference between us having them, and them having them, is some of us are mature enough. Your sons are trouble.”
He laughed.
“My sons, huh? Not ours?”
She was to the point.
“Remember when they did that science project on the mold, and won the fair?”
He nodded.
“My sons. When they crash a motorcycle, they’re yours because when I was a kid, I didn’t steal motorcycles and race around a reservation like a lunatic. I was learning French for funsies.”
He found her funny.
And right.
“Good point. Anyway, we own a castle. That means when we die, they own a castle in Scotland. When better to get accustomed to a kilt than a wedding. Gabe, the President of the United States, is wearing one, so they can too.”
Clearly, this was going to be a fun fight.
And they knew it.
“You’re not backing down, huh?”
She shook her head.
“Nope. When in Scotland, respect the culture, and they’ll have to put away the fear of not being masculine, and just do it. Besides, once they see Michael in one, they’ll calm down. He’s their idol. They love him and want to be like him.”
That was a good point.
When in doubt, point a Marine at them. They’d calm down pretty fast.
He hoped.
When there was a knock to the door, they both glanced over at it.
“Come in,” Ethan stated.
Michael peeked his head in.
“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” he asked. “God. I hope to hell I’m not.”
Well, speak of the devil.
They had just been talking about him.
“No, you’re good,” Ethan admitted. “In fact, we were just discussing you.”
He lifted a brow.
Well, that made him curious.
“Can I come in?”
Blackhawk waved him in, and Michael closed the door behind him. He moseyed his way to the big bed, and sat at the end, facing them.
“What’s up?” she asked.
He went there.
“I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Well, they were a captive audience.
“What?” she asked.
He wasn’t sure how they were going to take this—specifically, Elizabeth.
“We were making breakfast, when the gate beeped. We have company.”
She lifted a brow.
“Who?” she asked, knowing Gabby and Finn stayed with them last night at the castle since Finn didn’t have work today.
He shared.
“The psychic is back. Sarah said she needs to talk to you again, but this time about the castle. Her spirit guides have been out of control, and she had to come—AGAIN.”
Elizabeth sighed.
That was exactly what Michael expected her to do—well, that or punch the woman.
With Elizabeth, she was pretty predictable regarding certain things.
“I don’t like that kind of a thing.”
Michael got it.
“Well, for the record, she’s a nice person, and she isn’t trying to annoy you. You just dislike psychics. If she was just selling honey at the market, you’d be up in her grill for some samples of honey.”
She snorted.
That was the most ridiculous analogy she’d heard. She wouldn’t want samples of honey because before then, Callen would have bought her a colony of bees so she could harvest her own.
If she didn’t already own some.
“Because most of the time, it’s a bucket of hooey. It’s nothing personal. I just don’t like hooey.”
On that, he didn’t argue.
“Well, this one is legit. She told you things no one would know. So, can you maybe come down and talk to her? Without punching her in the face?"
Ethan laughed.
“I mean, that sounds like normal behavior to me.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, we can. I’m still waiting to hear back from Tony regarding the comparison of bones, and I didn’t have much planned today except to keep trying to figure out this mystery.”
He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.
“Thanks, Mom. We have to live here, and the less hostile it is, the better.”
She was aware.
It wasn’t like she’d been hostile.
She just wasn’t one to do cartwheels over the woo-woo. She believed in ghosts, and it tended to do battle with her religious beliefs.
That was the conundrum.
“We’ll be down. There is a price, though.”
He lifted a brow.
“What?”
“Coffee. I want a bucket full of coffee and something baked to go with it. A cookie. A muffin. A scone. Something. That’s on you and your love muffin. That’s the cost of me not bitch slapping a psychic.”
“Did I mention she’s a practitioner of the Pagan arts?”
She snorted.
“Of course, she is. A Scottish witch? Why the hell not?” she asked, rhetorically.
He winked at her.
As for breakfast…
“Graham already made you some baked goods. You are, if anything, predictable.”
Yes, yes, she was.
“I’m a whore for a pastry.”
When Ethan opened his mouth, she stared at him.
“I double dog dare you. Then, the only whore getting laid in this place will be Michael—by his husband.”
The man snorted.
It wasn’t like she was lying. He liked being the whore here. His husband was hot.
Sue him.
“We’ll be down,” she admitted.
That worked for him.
Getting up, he headed to the door. Only, he didn’t get to go too far.
“Michael?”
He glanced back.
“Yeah, Mom?”
She smiled at him.
“I’m happy for you, and I’m so glad you’re finally where you need to be. Losing you as an Archangel was a small price to pay to see you living your best life.”
There was genuine happiness in his face.
“Thank you for loving me when I was struggling. I only made it through because I had someone to lean on. You’re my hero.”
Well, they had something in common.
He was one of hers.
When he closed the door behind him, Elizabeth and Ethan rolled out of bed, hit the shower, and had a little fun in there.
Because why not?
She was on vacation.
There was no way she was turning down some kinky water fun with a hot man in a Scottish castle.
The psychic could wait.
After all, she came here, not vice versa.
Once dressed, they walked downstairs toward the kitchen, hand-in-hand. When they got there, everyone was at the island, and Michael was pouring them coffee.
“Morning,” she said. “Oh, are those danish?” she asked ignoring the psychic for the time being.
They were moving on vacation time here.
And vacations called for baked goods. Elizabeth’s plan was to gain back about twenty pounds as she ate her weight in delicious things.
Sue her.
She wasn’t running here unless there was a goat chasing her.
Graham put a danish on a plate and handed it to her. Once he did, she kissed him on the cheek and winked at him.
“Nice hickey, ya whore. I guess there’s a couple of them here—not just Michael.”
He snorted.
“Tell your other son to control himself. I guess birds of a feather flock together,” he admitted.
Yes, yes, they did.
As she sat down, Ethan beside her, the woman went to speak, but she held up her hand.
“I am not suitable for people until I’ve had some coffee. For all of our sakes, let me get halfway through this cup before you tell me anything that has the word ‘spirit’, ‘ghost’, or ‘dead person’ involved in the conversation.”
That worked for Sarah.
She was having a good time with Gabby. They were talking, and she genuinely liked the woman. She was hoping they could become friends.
It wasn’t easy being a witch in a village in Scotland. People avoided her, unless they wanted a love spell or cards read.
Elizabeth sipped the coffee.
“How are the goats?” she asked, like that was the most normal conversation to have at the breakfast table.
Or island.
Graham grinned.
“Trouble. Ivan was trying to hump Saint. We had to put a stop to that.”
She snorted.