Page 41 of Courting Danger

“I’ve only seen Hawaii,” Ocean admitted. “I try to avoid cold places, so Alaska isn’t anywhere near my bucket list.”

“How about you?” Roan asked, turning his attention to Danger.

“Alaska and Hawaii, I’ll never see, because it will be a cold day in hell before you get my ass on an airplane,” Danger replied. “If I can’t drive to it, I’m not going. I don’t do buses or trains either. No fucking way I don’t pick up charges trapped in a metal container with a bunch of other folks. As for the rest of the states, it’s been hit or miss. I’ve seen everything around North Carolina and along the Gulf; I’ve been to Texas a handful of times too, butI’ve never seen any part of New England or most of the stuff out west.”

“I’ve been on a few plane rides that involved the possibility of me winding up in handcuffs,” Ocean said. “But it was worth it to surf off Gold Coast and Streaky Bay.”

“I don’t even know where the hell those places are,” Roan admitted.

“Australia,” Pope said. “One of several places still left on my bucket list. Looks like you’ve got me beat again.”

Ocean grinned the way he always did when the subject of surfing and where to find amazing waves came up.

“I’ve got buddies out there if you ever wanna check it out,” Ocean offered. “They’ll show you the best spots to catch the ride of a lifetime.”

“One of these days we’ll find the perfect time for me to take you up on that,” Pope declared.

“Looking forward to it.”

“We should probably get rolling,” Pope said. “There’s a smokehouse nearby that makes some serious goddamn barbeque; we can grab lunch.”

“Hells yeah,” Ocean declared, turning away from the railing and all but dashing for the stairs, Roan hot on his heels.

“I can go for some barbeque,” Danger admitted, shaking his head at their antics. “But I’ll be damned if I’m racing them down all those stairs.”

“Let ‘em waste the energy,” Pope said. “It’s not like they can go anywhere.”

Instead of wasting time with more words, he caught a fistful of Danger’s hair and tugged him into a kiss that went from hot to smoldering when Danger deepened it. Somewhere in the distance, the eagle cried out again, but this time, Pope had no interest in seeing what it was up to. Danger had slipped a fingerthrough his beltloop and tugged their bodies flush, rocking into every kiss, a low groan rumbling from deep in his throat.

They were both short of breath when they broke that kiss, then Danger reminded Pope of the boyish imp he’d been when Pope had first met him, flashed Pope a wicked smirk, and dashing for the stairs, calling out over his shoulder:Last one to the bottom pays for lunch.

The pounding of Danger’s footsteps echoed like the eagle’s cry as he hurried down the steps, while Pope just chuckled and took his time, since he’d planned on paying anyway.