Page 117 of Donovan's Men

“Impudent, even.” A slow smile spread across his face. “Oh, I’m going to make you pay for that.”

“I can’t wait.” I tapped Hamish’s thigh as he blew his nose. “I think fresh air will do you good.”

“Yeah, I think it will.”

He took the hand I offered, and I yanked him up.

Then pulled him flush against me, grabbed him by the back of the neck, yanked him closer, and laid a full-on kiss on his mouth.

I absorbed his surprise and thrust my tongue into his mouth.

“While you two make out, I’ll rinse the mugs.”

Donovan’s sardonic chuckle barely registered as I fitted my pelvis against Hamish’s.

Neither of us was hard—but that wasn’t the point. He needed reassurance from me that I didn’t think less of him because of his vulnerability—because he’d opened his heart to us.

And I needed reassurance he’d be there to hold my hand through my less-than-stellar future retelling of my clusterfuck of a disaster life.

Hamish clung to me as if I were a life raft and we were alone in the ocean.

I pulled back—meeting his gaze. “I’ve got you. We both do. You don’t ever have to be alone again, okay?”

“That’s a big promise.”

Yeah, he was right. A huge promise. Maybe one I didn’t have the right to make. At some point, I would need to leave this place. To go home to my lonely condo in New West. To come to peace with what I’d done, and not done, in my life.

“Let’s go, you two. I’m jonesing for my second coffee. Well, I barely touched my first. There’s a place a few blocks from here.”

Hamish held my gaze for one moment longer before turning to Donovan. “That sounds great. I think I’ve had enough caffeine for one morning.”

I snorted. “No such thing.”

He pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Oh, you should see me overloaded with caffeine. Not a pretty sight.”

Donovan snagged each of our hands and tugged us toward the front hall.

We each grabbed jackets.

I was pleased to see we all had warm coats. Donovan and Hamish had wool while mine was a down-filled parka. I glanced at Donovan’s head.

“I’ll be fine. Usually I have a cap—”

Hamish unceremoniously plopped a wool hat onto Donovan’s head.

Donovan scowled.

I suppressed my smile. “At least it doesn’t have a pom-pom.”

He growled.

The sound went straight to my cock.

My strangled cough caught his attention, and he glanced over at me. “You getting turned on?”

I shoved my hands into my thermal gloves. “No. Let’s go.”

Hamish chuckled as he donned gloves as well. “Normally, I wear mittens.” He looked back and forth between the two of us, cheeks pinkening.