Prowl (The Game #12) Read Online Cara Dee

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Game Series by Cara Dee
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Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 114284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
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Oh, I was all ears for this.

Ty wasn’t wholly satisfied, but he tucked away his phone with some grumbling, snatched up a lobster tartlet, and took Marina’s advice.

“Fine—four things. You and Walker have been runnin’ yourselves ragged movin’ back to your old place. He’s also been workin’ so hard this month that he’s sendin’ me flowers and you fishin’ lures,” he told me. “Lane’s wrappin’ up his deadline today—and Marina wouldn’t mind havin’ the house to herself for a minute. So if you can take a few days off, I propose we take our worker bees down to Florida after the weekend. And to make an already irresistible idea even better, I got a $200 off deal from JetBlue in my email this mornin’.”

He had me at Florida, to be honest. Next week would be perfect for me, because it was right before we launched our spring menu. I’d struggle to take time off once the restaurant got busier.

As for Walker… Ty was right. I’d already been thinking in terms of interventions.

“You handle Lane, and I will take care of Walker,” I said firmly.

I mean…

At least we got them here.

That had to count for something.

I took a deep breath and rolled down my window. The Florida heat, how I’d missed it.

Walker was driving and talking on the phone with someone from work.

Ty and Lane were in the back seat, and yeah, it would be a while before Lane could unclench. Ty held him and kissed the top of his head, and I couldn’t really look away from them in the sideview mirror. Slowly but surely, Lane was revealing all of himself to Ty. He let Ty comfort him, he didn’t hide his anxiety, and the fact that he was on medication was finally losing its self-imposed stigma. Lane didn’t avoid the topic or tense up as much anymore.

Which was extra good after this deadline. Lane’s brain was just ready to blow, and the flight hadn’t made anything better. But being here would. He knew that too. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have jumped at the opportunity.

“Then maybe you should let Andrea take your place, Max,” Walker was saying. “Emma can bring her up to speed—but you best make your decision tonight. The flight is in twenty-four hours, and Ed and I have a lot riding on this.”

I tuned out again. One call was no problem. As soon as Emma and whoever she took were off to Chicago, Walker would have nothing to do for three days, aside from reading his scouts’ daily debriefs.

Movement caught my eye, and I looked in the sideview again. Lane nodded jerkily at whatever Ty had murmured, and then Lane chased down a pill with water.

The more I watched them together, the surer I became. They complemented each other so damn well that I was confident we’d see them undergo some changes in the next few months. Lane was learning to be vulnerable, and Ty’s edges were becoming a little softer. There was a bit of a Daddy in him. He’d even insisted on tagging along when Lane had had the stitches in his arm removed. The faint scar was now nothing but a fun memory for those two wackadoos.

Given our brief stay down south, Ty had opted not to pick up his bird Jet from his mother’s house in Naples. So after an impressive run at Publix, we had everything we needed for our four-day reprieve. Most importantly, margaritas.

We had our priorities. When we arrived at Ty’s house, his priority was to “Get shit runnin’.” AC was cranked up, junk mail was brought inside, he placed an order for ice delivery—which I’d learned wasn’t always for cocktail hour but also for dead iguanas. Fun stuff. Master called Dean to check in on him and put our bags in Ty’s bedroom, since Ty and Lane were sharing love-sick glances and talking about the boat, and I… I parked my fine ass in the kitchen to make margaritas.

“It feels weird not having Terra with us.” Lane sat down on the other side of the kitchen bar while I hauled out the blender. “Oh shoot! Ty! Baby! Honey! Daddy! Swamp King!”

“I think he took your stuff to the boat,” I replied. “You sure you don’t want one right now?”

He chuckled tiredly. “I’ll knock myself out.” Probably true. The meds were currently doing to him what three margaritas would do to me.

Instead, he dug through the bags from Publix. “So, um, do you think it’s too soon for me to tell Ty I love him?”

I’d been waiting for this.

“Hell no.” I smiled, happy for him. I was sure Ty would say it back.

Judging by Lane’s own smile, he wasn’t too worried either. His expression morphed into triumph when he located what he’d evidently been looking for. A hummingbird feeder.

To him and Ty, seemingly everything was about wildlife. Definitely two peas in a pod. They were gonna feed hummingbirds, hunt iguanas, snorkel, and build hiding spots for reptiles. Oh—they were gonna construct something called bee hotels too.



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