Thief (A Bad Boy Romance)(75)

And I couldn’t be more excited.

Irene’s cooking, Rowan’s making smart-ass comments about me and his sister, Stella’s playing big sister and telling me to make myself useful and shuck corn.

Ivy is sitting on my lap, her hand in mine.

And it’s all exactly how I remember it.

Well, the beer in my hand was given to me by Jacob instead of me stealing it out of his fridge when he wasn’t looking, but besides that?

Exactly the same.

“So now what?”

I grin at Ivy, pulling her against me as I sit back against the railing of the back porch.

“I’m open to ideas.”

“Well,” she says, matter-of-factly. “I’m being sued by my management company.”

“I have no job and live on a houseboat.”

She laughs, turning in my arms to kiss me.

Goddamn this is perfect.

“We’ve got each other.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m going to ignore how cringingly cliché that was.”

“Long as you keep kissing me, gorgeous,” I grin at her. “You ignore anything else you want.”

She smiles as she presses her lips to mine. And there’s just a hint of tongue before there’s a coughing sound from behind her. She breaks away sharply, both of us going red as we look up at Jacob Hammond.

He raises a single brow at me sternly.

“Silas.”

I clear my throat, trying to hide my grin. “Sir?”

“Special Agent Riley is here.” He crosses his arms over his broad chest, looking at me with a stony gaze.

“He’d like a word.”

Ivy slips off my lap, and I’m standing from my seat when the screen door to the back porch swings open.

“Now, you’re sure you wouldn’t like to stay for a drink or something, Agent Riley?”

Yep, there’s Irene, offering the damn FBI agent some Hammond hospitality.

Agent Riley smiles at her, shaking his head. “No, ma’am, but thank you.”

He turns his eyes to me, and I can feel my heart draw up a little inside my chest.

“Mr. Hart.” He steeples his hands in front of his chest, raising a brow at me.

Fuck. This is it. This is where I get hauled in for being in that van, or for even being a fucking associate of my uncle.

“Look, I don’t want a scene, Agent,” I mutter as I draw my head up high and meet his look. “Not here, not in this hou-”

“You’re in the clear, Hart.”

I blink, the words tripping over themselves in my mouth before I frown at him.

“Excuse me?”

“I said you’re in the clear.”

“Sir, I-”

Ivy elbows me in the ribs and kicks my shin at the same time.

I clear my throat and shrug at Agent Riley. “I mean, yeah, of course I’m in the clear.” I smile broadly at him. “I mean it’s not like I did anything, right?”

He raises a single brow at me, clearly suppressing the grin.

“So you wouldn’t know anything about an attempted robbery at the North Shore Shipping office down in Lynn?”

My brows perk up.

Attempted robbery?

Agent Riley smirks at me. “Relax, Silas, I told you you’re in the clear. Your uncle on the other hand,” he shrugs, another smirk coming to his face, “well, not so much.”

“And just what sort of trouble might my dear uncle have gotten himself into, Agent?”

Ivy elbows me again, and Agent Riley arches another brow.

“Don’t get cute, Hart. We got a tip-off call from your aunt right before Declan and his little pals tried to hit the offices.”

Whoa.

Agent Riley looks at me sharply. “I’d send that aunt some flowers, if I were you. When she called, she wanted us to be sure to know that you,” he jabs a finger at my chest, “that you were ‘one of the good ones’.”

I grin.

“I’m going to need you to come down at some point and answer some basic questions, but other than that, I don’t think we’ll be seeing each other much.”

I frown, that last lingering thought in my head scratching to get out.

“So, that’s it?”

He nods slowly. “Declan and this Jerry character had prints that checked out with an open case - this armored truck robbery down outside Boston about eight years ago.”

He grins thinly at me. “But of course, a good kid like you wouldn’t know a damn thing about that, would he.”

I swallow.

Agent Riley chuckles. “Relax. The prints match up, and I’m pretty a-okay closing an otherwise dead case. What do you think?”

I bring my hand up and run my fingers through my hair. “I’ve lately decided that cleaning up lingering messes is a good idea.”

He grins. “Let me know if you ever finish that tour guide for Dublin,” he half-turns to the backdoor.