4. Stellar parallax #2
“It must have been a lot of work for everyone, including you bridesmaids.”
Ian snorts.
I ignore him.
Turning away from the store front, Trish laughs. “Not really. Between the wedding planner and maid of honor Jules—who’d make a great drill sergeant by the way—Rose and I didn’t have much to do.”
Before I can celebrate Trish bringing up my target all on her own, Ian steps between us and wraps his arm around Trish’s shoulder, throwing me a knowing look. He kisses the top of her head. “Hey babe, show me that picture you took.”
I scowl, and he smirks.
Dick .
When Trish is done showing him, she turns the camera for a selfie of her and Ian, kissing his cheek when she clicks.
Ian turns and deepens the kiss.
I give them a second or two before clearing my throat.
Trish pulls back. “Oh.” She ducks her head, looking embarrassed. “Sorry, Bodie.”
“I’m not,” Ian mumbles, nudging me farther out of the way with his shoulder and taking Trish’s hand, making me chuckle.
It’s nice seeing two people in love. Their kind of love may be something that I’ve willingly cut out of my present and future, but that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it when I see it. Even if lately it’s been making my chest tight.
“Oh, what’s that statue for?” Trish skips over to read the placard, pulling Ian along with her.
The rest of the walk through town is easy with Trish’s enthusiasm over every tourist sight and quintessential German knickknacks displayed in all the store window fronts.
But after a minute, my mind is back on the Southern blonde with killer finger guns.
“Tomorrow.”
“Huh?” I look at Trish, a feeling of déjà vu from being caught not paying attention in the meeting earlier.
Trish tilts her head, her top-knot falling to the side. “I was just saying how tomorrow Ian and I are going to see the castle that inspired Snow White. Isn’t that cool?”
“Uh, yeah. Very.”
“Maybe it will inspire my next book.” Swinging Ian’s hand, she looks at me over her shoulder. “You should come with us, Bodie.”
Ian nearly chokes to death on his next breath.
Trish pulls her hand free and pats Ian on the back. “You okay, baby?”
Ian controls his breathing while I try and control my laughter. “Yes,” Ian says, giving me a warning look. He clears his throat. “Yes. Fine. Just, ah, thought Jackie might like something from over there.” He waves toward a shop window. “I know you’ve been trying to find souvenirs for the girls.”
“Cool.” Trish fairly bounces over to the shop.
“You are not coming with us tomorrow.” Ian’s voice is low as he keeps his eyes on Trish, who’s staring intently at a window display of what seems to be a jewelry-slash-figurine store.
“I don’t know.” I rock back on my heels. “Looking at fairy tale-inspiring sights could be my new hobby.” I feel bad for messing with him, but he so obviously has something planned for tomorrow, it’s too hard not to tease him.
He looks panicked. “I?—”
Trish runs into Ian’s side, pulling on his arm.
“Sugar, you’re a genius. They have Hummels.
And not just any Hummel. They have two with a little boy looking through a telescope!
” She pulls again, tugging him toward the store.
“Help me pick out the best one for Jackie. It will go perfect in her new office Flynn set up for her.”
Once Ian’s legs start moving, she lets go and jogs into the shop, expecting Ian to follow.
Instead, he stops, turns, and puts a hand on my chest, holding me back.
I rub my sternum after he drops his hand. I may have pushed the man too far.
But instead of threats or violent curses, he takes out his phone. In a few seconds, my own phone dings.
“There.” Ian pockets his as I take mine out. “That’s Rose’s contact information.”
I catch myself smiling and shrug, trying to play it off. “I don’t know why you sent me that. Who says I need her number?”
Ian scoffs. “Please.”
“You coming, sugar?” Trish calls from the store’s doorway.
A large smile on his face, Ian waves. “Be right there, baby.” When he turns to me, it melts off his face. “I swear to God, Bodie, if you follow me into that store, or even think of coming to Neuschwanstein Castle with us tomorrow, I will make life hell for you.”
Secretly, I’m triumphant. I should leave them to their souvenir hunting and get back to the hotel. Maybe catch Sinan before he heads out to the pubs. But messing with Kincaid is fun.
Shrugging, I take a step around him toward the store. “I don’t know. Castles are pretty cool. And I’ve never been that far south before.” I stop and throw a smirk at him, as he did to me earlier. “Might want to check it out.”
Ian’s eyes narrow.
“Besides, you care too much about the job.” I nudge his shoulder, chuckling. “You don’t have it in you to mess with me at work.” And he doesn’t. The man crosses every T and dots every I. There’s a reason he was promoted.
Ian raises one eyebrow. The look of a man with a trump card up his sleeve. “Why do you assume I meant at work?”
A sense of foreboding hits me. “Then what are you talking about?”
“I hear your mother is a real ball buster.” Ian rocks back on his heels. “Thanks to one Miss Jules Starr, I happen to know what a Mamma’s boy you are.”
Fucking Starr. She met my mother once and has been obsessed ever since. Calling my mother her hero. Why, I don’t know. They couldn’t be more different. One is a career-minded astronaut with a penchant for perverted jokes, the other a retired teacher and longtime single mom who loves to cook.
But what Jules said is true: I do look after my mom. One, because that’s what any good son does, and two, since losing Dad while he was serving in the Army, I’ve taken great pains to try and fill the void.
I give my co-worker, whom I have severely underestimated, a wary once-over. “What exactly are you threatening me with, Kincaid?”
When Ian smiles at me, I can see the political upbringing in him.
There’s a lot happening behind that smile.
“Let’s just say I happen to have access to a certain Mrs. Bodaway’s phone number.
” He wiggles the phone in his hand. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate a call.
Tell her how helpful her son is being getting in between a man and his proposal plans. ”
“You’d call my mother?” My mind stalls and mouth drops open. “Wait. You’re proposing tomorrow?”
“Shh!” Ian steps forward, covering my mouth with his hand, and looks over his shoulder at the shop.
I may have yelled that last part.
When Trish doesn’t come running out of the store in hysterics about him proposing, Ian sighs in relief. It takes him an extra second to realize how ridiculous the two of us look, one man holding his hand over another man’s mouth.
He jerks his hand back.
I move my mouth around, trying to erase the feel of Ian’s palm. “First, well played with my mom, Kincaid.”
He fights a smile but loses.
“And second, congrats man, that’s awesome.” I stick out my hand.
He shakes it, the smile on his face growing. I’ve never seen him so openly happy before. It must feel great to let yourself fall in love.
“Thanks, man.” His lips twist to the side, like he’s thinking. “I mean, we kind of already agreed to get married, but I’m not sure if that really counted.”
I laugh. “Don’t tell me you asked during sex?”
The look he gives me has my jaw dropping. “Are you serious?” Who would’ve thought Kincaid could be so spontaneous?
“Shut up.” He nudges my shoulder, pushing me a step down the street. “And get the fuck out of here.”
I laugh some more but nod.
Satisfied, Ian walks to the shop, throwing a hand up to wave as he goes. “I’ll tell Trish you can’t make it tomorrow.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Still smiling and shaking my head, I walk toward the bus stop. Leaning against the stand, I open my phone and thumb over to text messages, feeling quite pleased with the turn of events.
Ian’s going to go down with one of the coolest proposals of all time, and I’m one more step closer to figuring out who Rose is. One more step to getting her out of my system—luscious curves, finger guns, and all.
Then I’ll be able to give all my attention to the upcoming mission. No distractions.
I tap the contact bubble Ian sent, Rose’s name popping up on my screen.
Rose West.
West? Why does that…
Recognition hits, and the smile melts off my face. Fuck .
The bus’s brakes squeal, the sound intensifying the hollow feeling in my gut while my mind tries to reconcile to the truth.
Holy shit. I banged a billionaire.