Page 103 of Savage Ruin

Thiago bends down and captures my lips. “Of course not.” He waves us into his office.

Instead of the couch, four chairs surround the coffee table. A bottle of tequila sits in the middle of the table along with five shot glasses.

I raise an eyebrow. “What are we celebrating?”

Mateo brings me over to a chair and motions for me to sit. He takes the seat next to me.

Grayson comes over and slips a pair of glasses on me. Lips land firmly on mine for a second before he walks away. I hear the tinkling of glasses. Then silence.

A few minutes later, we’re sitting in Nacho Tequila.

Unable to help the tears filling my eyes, I turn and look around the colorful bar before swiveling to face the three men in front of me. “How did you know?”

I’d been missing Marcos and our old routine fiercely the last month. The first few months had been insanely busy getting NT Labs up and running and deciding which projects to work on, but once everything settled down, I couldn’t help but feel lost without him.

“We feel the same way,” Grayson admits softly. “We’re just better at hiding it.” His hand twirls the glass of tequila sitting in front of him.

“We miss him more at home because that’s where we saw him most, but you worked with him every day,” Mateo chimes in sadly. “I could see the grief in your eyes every time you reached a milestone or finished a project.”

“He may not be physically here, but I don’t doubt he’s keeping tabs on us,” Thiago states gruffly followed by a chuckle. “We thought the idea of celebrating your victories at Nacho Tequila is a tradition we should carry on together. A little piece of him, and the tequila he loved so much. It almost feels like he’s right here with us.” Thiago’s dark eyes stare steadily into mine. “What do you think?”

“I love the idea,” I tell him huskily, my voice overcome with emotion for these men. It’s been tough adjusting to an entirely new life, but they’ve been with me every step of the way erasing my doubts and easing my fears. And loving me more than I could have imagined. “It couldn’t have come at a better time, either.” I explain the deal I made to fund the breast cancer detection bra. “With the AR/VR glasses all distributed and this deal, we’ve officially achieved Marcos’ last wishes. It’s time to celebrate.” I raise the glass of tequila in my hand. “To Marcos—Saúde!”

“To Marcos! Saúde!” they repeat.

We toast the man who meant so much to us and down the shot of tequila. I silently send an additional prayer of thanks his way for the wonderful men he raised, who I now call mine. And for a split second, I see him at the bar, laughing, with his glass of tequila raised toward me.