Epilogue
Why Business Trips are the Best
One Year Later
“No, no, no! Gummy’s pack needs to go to Upstate NY. They’ll have no problem with the tunnels under Albany.” Yordan poked at screen to digitally move the green dot to NY. His hand shook a bit with the magnitude of what he was about to do, but he didn’t think Kit noticed.
“Of course they’ll have no problem with the tunnel ghoul,” Kit returned. “That’s a cakewalk better suited to one of the less-able packs. It’s more important that they go help in Europe where the—”
Yordan cut him off. “No, it’s not. Gummy’s from Brooklyn, remember? This will let the whole pack visit his mom. That woman can cook, and it’s like a week of R&R put into a single meal. Trust me, Gummy’s pack needs to go there.”
Kit leaned back, his desk chair adjusting to his shift in weight as he stared across his desk to where Yordan sat at his. Between them was a combined work space of mammoth proportions, but it suited them fine. They were both big guys after all, easily able to reach the map that lay between them.
“Why is your hand shaking?”
Damn. Kit noticed everything. It was one of the things he adored about the man.
“What?” he returned, his voice sounding much too innocent.
Kit’s feet dropped to the floor as his seat returned to upright. He leaned forward with narrowed eyes. “Out with it. What’s going on?”
Yordan considered covering with a half-truth, but he always felt like a schmuck when he did that with Kit. In a year of being together, he’d never lied to the man. No reason to start now.
“Well,” Yordan finally confessed. “I’m a little nervous.”
“Nervous? About what?” Kit’s gaze swept the office, touching on maps and paper piles and all the debris of their shared worklife managing Wulf, Inc.
’s growing number of combat packs. It was too big a job for one person, and early this year, the company had made it official.
Yordan’s “understudy” position was now of equal rank and authority as Kit’s.
It might not work for anyone else in their situation, but it worked for them.
And if the two ever disagreed, Captain M had the final say.
But in a year of working together, they’d never needed someone else to make the decision. They’d disagreed plenty but had always been able to work it out.
Yordan came out of his chair and walked to Kit’s desk side. “I think we need to go to Europe for the conference.”
Kit’s eyes narrowed. “You hate conferencing. You said you’d rather be fed to a swamp monster than set foot in—”
“I think we should have Wulf, Inc. pay for our trip to Europe and then head on to Scotland to get married.” So saying, he pulled a box out from his pocket and offered it to Kit with a shaking hand.
The love of his life stared at the box then up at Yordan. “Are you proposing to me?” His voice was hollow with shock as he slowly opened the box. Inside lay a polished metal ring nestled in velvet.
“Yeah, I am,” Yordan said, his voice low. “I can’t believe I ever thought what I feel for you is a fairy lie. It’s love, Kit. I love you, and I want us to be together forever.”
Kit shook his head as he looked up at Yordan towering above him. “You know, that is not how a man proposes to the love of his life,” he drawled, his brogue heavy and sweet.
“Fuck you, kitten,” Yordan said. “That’s how I propose.”
“Obviously.” Kit got out of his chair, one hand shoved into his pants pocket.
“But the way you’re supposed to propose is on one knee.
” With those words, he dropped down before Yordan and held up a velvet box.
“I love you, Yordan. Please say you’ll be mine forever.
” Then he arched his brows. “Now that’s how a man proposes to the love of his life. ”
Yordan reached down and popped open the box to see a polished wooden ring. He pulled it out and slid it on. It fit perfectly. Of course it did. As did Kit’s when he slid on his gleaming metal ring. Then they both held up their hands until the rings clicked against each other.
“So I guess that’s a yes, huh?” said Kit, his voice ringing with happiness.
“I guess so.”
“And you want to get married in Scotland?”
“Why not? Don’t you want your clan all around you?”
Kit rocked back on his heels, apparently considering. “Yeah,” he said softly, “I do. But all I really care about is seeing you in a kilt as we say I do.”
Yordan snorted while happiness bubbled up inside him. “Not going to happen, kitten.”
“Wanna bet?”
“No. Never. Not going to do that again.”
Kit laughed. “Agreed.”
“But maybe, if you put on your short, tight, little skirt—”
“It’s called a kilt, you Neanderthal.”
“Then maybe, I’ll take it off you.”
Kit melted forward just as Yordan did the same. They met in the middle—as always—and the kiss was so magical it made everything else disappear.
“But,” Kit finally said as he pulled back, “what does this have to do with Gummy’s pack?”
“It’s so he can be close if there’s a problem here while we’re checking out your kilt.”
“New York isn’t that close—”
“Yeah, it is. Because after a night of his mother’s pasta, Gummy will be in a great mood and will happily come back here and train the new recruits.”
Kit frowned. “He will? That’s a six-week job.” And one that he and Yordan usually did.
“Never underestimate the power of pasta.”
That had to be some pasta. But it would be an even better honeymoon.
Kit waggled his eyebrows. “I can’t wait to introduce you to haggis.”
Yordan groaned. “It’s a good thing I love you.”
“Yeah,” Kit agreed, his voice thick with that brogue Yordan found so sexy. “Because you’d be lost without me, my sweet, bonnie love.”
He was right, and Yordan didn’t mind one bit.