“Are you about ready to go, babe?” Rod winked at Wyl.

“Ready when you are,” Wyl nodded.

“We enjoyed bumping into you both,” Declan extended his hand.

The couples traded handshakes, and Wyl and Rod left the building.

* * *

“Now that ticked up my weird meter a bit,” Rod said on their way home.

“Boy howdy. Declan made me uneasy the way he kept a close eye on us.”

Rod nodded. “Ailbe focused on befriending us. It's obvious they have plans for including us in their scheme.”

“I agree, and James Pearson will be interested in this unexpected development.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The next day Wyl and Rod rose early. They enjoyed coffee at the breakfast bar.

“We need to run to the market,” Rod said. “We have no orange juice for Mimosas, and we need tomatoes to slice and grill.”

“How about we serve French toast and skip the tomatoes? Hot, mushy tomato slices don’t do it for me.” Wyl shuddered.

“How about those French toast bites like I made in San Francisco? We can add sausages and fresh fruit for a complete meal.” Rod made a mental grocery list.

“Thinking about it makes me hungry. Do we have anything to tide us over?”

“I’ll make us a few slices of toast.” Rod strolled into the kitchen. “Grab a couple of those bananas and peel them.”

“Got it.” Wyl reached into the fruit bowl.

After the light breakfast, they showered, dressed, and headed out for their shopping.

* * *

Back in the flat, they chatted as they worked on brunch.

“'I'm still amazed at meeting MacGowan and Knowlan at the racecourse yesterday,” Rod said. “I never expected the meeting to happen so soon after we arrived in Ireland.”

“It surprised me, too.” Wyl grabbed plates out of the cabinet. “They're an interesting couple, but Declan's demeanor made me uneasy.” He set the table. “His pleasantness included a sinister undertone hard to miss. They both appeared a little...well...forced.”

“Yeah, almost like a faked close couple routine. I don’t trust either one of them.”

“That's healthy, Rod. You're an undercover agent now. You should trust nobody if you want to stay alive.”

The knife he held to stem the strawberries clattered into the sink. Rod white-knuckled the counter edge and rasped out, “Stay alive?”

Wyl surrounded Rod with his arms, nuzzling his ear. “Sorry, babe. You promised to melt in my arms for our second Christmas on the ranch, our first Christmas as husbands. We can’t if we're dead.”

“Dead?” Releasing his death grip on the counter, Rod rotated to face Wyl, dismay and uncertainty in his expression.

Wyl tightened his embrace, hoping to ease the angst in Rod’s voice, body language, and expression. “You've understood from the beginning this mission was dangerous. My job is to make sure nothing happens to you.”

Rod tightened his arms around Wyl. "It's not me I worry about losing.”

Wyl whispered in Rod’s ear. “We’ll be fine.” He kissed the ear and nibbled his lobe. “Now relax. We have guests coming.”

Rod took a deep breath before releasing his embrace. “Sorry, I freaked. The thought of death frightened me. In the back of my mind, it’s possible, but hearing the words sent me into a panic.” He stroked Wyl’s cheek. “Never stop telling me we’ll be fine.”

Wyl planted a fiery kiss on his husband’s lips, a sure way to pull him out of his panic. Rod melted into the kiss as he opened for Wyl’s tongue.

Wyl pulled away. “Better?”

The faraway gaze in Rod’s eyes told him yes as he nodded his head and smiled.

"Now those strawberries aren’t going to stem themselves. Need me to beat the eggs or something?”

Rod took a deep breath and regained his composure. “Sure. Use eight eggs, and add a bit of cream as you whisk. Sprinkle in a dash of cinnamon, nutmeg, and about half a teaspoon of sugar.”

They worked together in the kitchen preparing breakfast, nudging each other to maintain body contact.

At eleven o’clock, the doorbell rang.

“I’m on it.” Wyl checked the peephole. James Pearson and another man he assumed to be James’s partner, Glenn, the other British agent, waited. He opened the door.

“Hi, James.” Wyl extended his hand. “Please, come in.”

James shook hands, and turned to the man beside him. “Wyl, this is my partner, Glenn Cross. Glenn, this is Wyl Sterling.”

“Hi, Glenn. I’m pleased to meet you.” Wyl offered his hand.

“Blinding to meet you, too.” Glenn's noticeable Cockney accent came through. He shook Wyl’s hand as they entered the flat.

Wyl closed the door and whispered to James, “Blinding?”

“It means fantastic,” James said.

Wyl chuckled and called to Rod. “Babe, James and Glenn are here.”

Rod strolled into the living room. “Hi, James.” He offered his hand to James, then to Glenn. “Glenn, I’m Rod. Welcome to our little bit of Ireland.”

“At last we meet, Rod. James mentioned you two and told me a bit about your relationship. I understand you created quite a sensation in San Francisco.” Glenn smiled and emphasized the word sensation.

“Let’s say San Francisco won’t forget us,” Wyl laughed.

“Why don’t we sit and visit for a bit before brunch,” Rod motioned toward the seating area. “Can I offer a mimosa?”