Callan’s POV
‘Come on, take a damn seat’ Lincoln orders, shoving out a chair with his toe as a familiar dark haired woman appears to my left.
Turning, my smile widens as I reach out to hug her, ‘Zara’ I greet our only female operative, ‘what the f.uck are you doing here?’
The black haired woman tosses back the drink in her hand that I’m pretty sure is a neat scotch. ‘You’re getting married, it’s your last night of freedom or what ever s.hit you lot say to justify to much booze and some bad decisions’ she retorts.
I hug her again, ‘hey, I’m glad you came, I just thought you’d maybe be with the women . . ‘
The look the Mediterranean skinned woman gives me has my words die on my lips.
‘I am hardly a dance around my handbag type of girl’ she replies fiercely, sliding a hand down the shee
