I held my boys close as I looked on the several men in hazmat suits and bomb protective suits enter and exit my apartment. Arlo frantically made orders and directed the fleet to do their jobs with the greatest of care. He lifted his hat and wiped away sweat with a heavy hand.

The squad leaders came up to him and discussed quietly the contents of the box. Arlo relaxed with relief from their news. He nodded, gesturing to the street full of emergency vehicles, and turned to me. He sat on the curb and collected me under his arm.

"From what they could tell, it's a heavy chest with a note inside. They're analyzing it for further proof of endangerment," Arlo sighed into my matted hair.

We didn't say much else as he gradually hugged me closer, absent-mindedly petting my head. He exhaled and sat up.

"Enough romantic comedy bull, you are very much dirty and in need of a home for a few days if toxins were released in there. Good thing I decided to drive a car today," he planned.

Arlo stood up and took Michael from my arms as I carried a sleeping Lucifer. He directed me to his BMW and held the passenger door open. I slid in and maneuvered the seatbelt around Lucifer on my lap. Arlo jumped into the driver's side, clipped his seatbelt, started the ignition, and drove to a mystery location with Michael excitingly staring out the windshield.

"What was in the note?" I questioned, breaking the silence.

Arlo gripped the steering wheel tighter, clenching his jaw while still keeping a focus on the road. "Nothing you should worry about, Blondie."

"Well, it pertains to me. I should know."

"No!"

He pauses at the stoplight abruptly. His expression was regretful, eyes tightly closed. He tugged at his hair and directed his attention back to the moving traffic.

"I can handle it. Those moronic, Spanish twats are fucking with the wrong blond and I won't let that happen. You've just started to enjoy me, they picked the wrong time!" He ranted.

"Enjoy you?" I repeated.

"Yes! See, if you had been in love with me, I could storm their compound, guns blazing. But we are in the sweetheart phase where you're beginning to like me but wouldn't give two shits if I came to your rescue. If they waited like 2 weeks, it'd be perfect."

I shook my head. "You're delirious."

"Am I, though?"

"Completely."

Arlo fake pouted but had the slightest curve in his lip. He flickered his eyes at me.

"So, you like the gifts?" He inquired, hesitantly.

I shrugged. "Maybe. Did someone do their homework?"

"There might have been some stalking and hacking involved, yes."

"Hacking?"

"You know, I think that's information that you could live without."

I rolled my eyes and looked out the window. The buildings flew by, getting cleaner and taller as we entered the modern part of the neighborhood. Arlo turned into a heavily guarded apartment garage and casually parked into a spot with his literal name on it. Next to 4 other cars sitting in spots with his name.

"Come on, it's way past lunch and I know you're hungry," Arlo reminded.

I nodded and went to open the door. Arlo reached out to stop me from exiting the car, rounding the front, and politely opening the door for me. He offered a hand that I took and used to lift out the seat. Closing the door behind me, Arlo led the way to an elevator with a code panel next to the call buttons. He typed the code quickly and pressed the up button.

"What would you like, Blondie?" He asked.

I shrugged. "Maybe pizza."

He smiled. "What kind?"

"Hawaiian, with barbecue sauce instead of marinara."

"Cute and knows his pizza. I think you've got me sold, Blondie."

"Keep window shopping, Arlo," I rejected.

He didn't respond as the elevator arrived at the garage and opened to reveal a very spacious carriage. He gestured, signaling me to enter first.

The smooth ascent up the building was done in comfortable silence. I jumped as Arlo's hand settled on my lower back. I looked to see a smug smirk on his lips with his blue eyes still staring straight. As the elevator doors opened again, we were met with a very open hallway that led to a clean and organized modern living room. Arlo set down Michael, who quickly ran to explore his newfound playground. Lucifer gracefully jumped from my arms and leisurely followed Michael around the penthouse.

"Are you sure they're okay running around? Well, more importantly, Michael," I questioned.

He shrugged a shoulder. "Let the little guy go. There's nothing in here I can't replace, Blondie."

I rolled my eyes and turned left, into the massive kitchen. I snooped through his cabinets and drawers before settling in the fridge. I smiled then grabbed a container of my favorite drink.

"Hey, I didn't think many people--Are you staring at my ass?"

Arlo quickly looked up into my eyes as I stood up.

"What? No, I mean. It's so delicious looking. I've never seen it at this angle," he rambled as I scolded him.

I frowned. "As I was saying, I didn't think many people liked organic chocolate milk. This is the best thing in the world."

He chuckled. "Seems we have a lot in common, Blondie."

I narrowed my eyes and he smiled slightly.

"You learned this from your scavenging, didn't you?"

"Absolutely."

I poured the milk into a short glass I found. "For once, I don't even mind. Thank you."

He perked up at my response and grinned like the Cheshire cat.

"I'm gonna go order the pizza, you can take a shower if you'd like. My bedroom is the furthest door down the hall, I'll set out some clothes when I'm finished," he directed.

I nodded and watched him move into another room in the huge living space. I downed my glass and washed then placed it in the drying rack. As I walked through the rest of the apartment, I noticed the few pictures hanging on walls or propped up on a table.

A black-haired woman, a ginger man, and 5 children of different ages were all consistent, except one that hung near Arlo's bedroom. It was just a small, wide blue-eyed boy peeking behind the floral dress of the black-haired woman, laughing with gorgeous, sparkling eyes of the same color. This must be he and his mom. He looks so happy. I looked away and went into his monochromatic bedroom.

Not wasting time breathing in the familiar scent that lurked in his room, I entered the master bathroom, flipped on the light, and closed the door. Staring at my sweaty and disheveled appearance in the wall-length mirror, I patted my flattened curls and promptly stripped off my pajamas. The stone shower felt cold on my feet as I stepped in. The overhead showerhead rained a calm stream of warm water over my whole body, cleansing me of stress. After a few seconds, I grabbed the washcloth, poured on the soap that was the source of Arlo's ocean breeze scent, and scrubbed away the dirt.

When the mixture of shampoo and body wash disappeared down the drain, I stepped back into the steamed bathroom and dried my hair before wrapping a towel around my waist. I reached for the knob and let out the fogged air.

Arlo perked his head up at the sound of the door opening and immediately looked down at my wet chest.

"I, uh, had to deal with b-business, so it took longer than expected..." He mumbled.

I smiled awkwardly. "Okay. Um, you alright there, Arlo?"

He blinked and stood up. "Yeah, yeah, I'm grand. It's just, uh, you're very..."

"Wet?"

He shook his head. "Naked."

"That's what happens after getting out of a shower," I reminded.

He glared before gesturing to the clothes on the bed. "I've set out my smaller clothes, these should do. We can go shopping later."

"That's not necessary, Arlo," I declined.

"You can't change my mind, Blondie."

I had a feeling it was about more than just the clothes. Arlo chuckled and reached out to brush a thumb across my jaw.

"Arlo."

Arlo closed his eyes and growled lowly. I look behind him to see an older man with the same piercing, emerald green eyes, and auburn red hair as the man in the photos. He was dressed in a grey suit, hair and mustache flawlessly styled.

Arlo turned around to face him. "What is it, Malachy?"

The man, Malachy, pointed his finger. "Watch your tongue, boy. I heard what you were up to, came to check on you like big brothers are supposed to."

"Since when the fuck did you act like a big brother?" Arlo snapped back.

Malachy sighed heavily and gestured helplessly. "Arlo, quick your bitching. You're scaring your little obsession."

I perked up at that and looked at Malachy. "Obsession?"

He laughed heartily and Arlo grimaced.

"Malachy, don't..."

"This chump over here spent thousands of dollars on you for those little gifts while we tended to business in Ireland. More money than he's ever spent on a guy, including the prostitutes! He's missed nights out with Nolan and me because he 'couldn't miss time away from his Blondie.' I would swear he's ready to propo--"

"Shut the fuck up, Mal," Arlo silenced.

Malachy smirked devilishly. "I best be off then since you seem perfectly taken care of. A pleasure to finally meet you, Mylo."

I nodded. "Nice to meet you, Malachy."

He stole another glance at Arlo and walked out of the room. Arlo waited for the second, distant elevator chime to speak.

"So, you've met my brother officially. One of them, unfortunately, he's the one who likes to gossip," Arlo summarized.

He turned to look down at me and noticed my still nakedness. His cheeks tinged a slight pink.

"I'll let you get dressed."

I smiled as he rushed out of the room, closing the door with one final peek. I dried what didn't air dry in the 10 minutes I've been out of the shower and quickly slipped on the offered boxer briefs, gym shorts, and a white t-shirt. Rubbing the towel on my head to make sure my curls were only slightly damp, I dropped it into the laundry wicker basket in the corner and padded my way back to the main area.

I spotted Michael randomly napping on the thick area rug in the living room with Lucifer, naturally, sleeping alongside him. Arlo appeared from the main hallway with a pizza box in hand as he turned into the kitchen. He set the box on the island and I expertly climbed onto one of the stools tucked under the counter, while he grabbed two plates and tall glasses. He placed both sets on the counter and went to grab the carton of milk from the fridge. I grinned at it and he politely poured my glass for me.

I reached over and flipped the flap open to reveal a delicious-looking pie of ham and pineapples on top of sweet barbecue sauce.

We both grab for the same slice and I jump back when our hands touched. I glanced at Arlo to see him already staring, without a care in the world. I quickly look back down and ripped away a slice, stuffing my mouth.

Arlo chuckled and grabbed a slice for himself.

"Feeling nervous, Blondie?" He teased between bites.

I swallowed a cooked pineapple. "No, why?"

He shrugged with the devil's smirk hinting at the corner of his mouth. "You've been leaning away as I've gotten closer, that's all."

I straightened up at that, our shoulders brushing together lightly. Arlo gently nudged me, his freshwater scent wafting into my nose.

"Why did the letters smell like saltwater?" I questioned.

He swallowed his bite. "I wrote them while on boats. A lot of people wanted to swim with the fishes."

I shivered. "You wrote letters to me as you dumped dead bodies?"

"No, we went swimming," he corrected.

I lifted a brow at the stupidity of that answer.

"We incinerate our bodies, don't want little kids finding dead bodies. We aren't animals."

"Was that supposed to make me feel better?"

Arlo shrugged. "I don't know. Do you want to have sex?"

"No."

"Then it didn't make you feel better," he concluded with a chuckle.

I smiled slightly and returned to my plate. We ate in comfortable silence until there was one slice left.

"Arlo, why don't you talk about your family?" I prodded.

He grimaced and wiped his mouth clean of barbecue sauce.

"My family isn't picture-perfect, Mylo. Yeah, the ones hanging in the corridor makes us look happy, blissful even. Those pictures were taken in my 8th year, and I am currently in my 26th. A lot happened in nearly 20 years," he narrated.

I shrugged my shoulders. "Like what?"

Arlo sighed heavily. "My mother died when I was 11. It shook my father to the core, left him drunk and angry. I was 15 when he left. He disappeared in the night, no note. Malachy had just turned 19 and, with the help of our aunt, my father's sister, took up the reins as the elder of us Mulloy 5."

He laughed bitterly. "We sound like the bloody Jackson 5."

"Question, if Malachy's the eldest, why are you the leader of your clan?"

"He may look like father, but he has the gentle soul of mother. I do a much better job on the frontlines, he keeps us with all those meetings and shit," Arlo explained.

I nodded and gestured encouragingly. "Continue."

He smirked. "We moved to America in my 20th year. Nolan, my little brother, his girlfriend died during childbirth and we helped him fight for legal custody of the twins, Leila, my young sister, her mystery boyfriend disappeared, which she still doesn't know it's because we found out it was a 17-year-old senior dating our 13-year-old, and Quin, the babe, had just turned 12 and didn't understand why we left. Malachy was silent throughout the process. At the time, he was still the leader, so this progression of building in the states was a way for father to see him as more than a spineless, frightened little boy trying to fill in daddy's shoes. The first time we met with the mob as the Mulloy clan, father destroyed Malachy. He nitpicked every decision he made, like a father shunning a child playing dress-up.

"I stood up for him. I told father off and he sat back, mildly impressed. After that, Malachy went silent for a few days, realizing how much time he wasted. The man's still a little heavy on the whiskey but he's doing better."

I took in all that information, me watching him as he watched me.

"Why'd you agree to talk about it?" I asked.

He shrugged while taking a sip of milk.

"Today's that day, Blondie," Arlo claimed.

Flattered that he willingly shared his life story, I pushed the remaining slice towards him. He laughed and pushed it back. We kept it going till Arlo abruptly got up and found a knife to split the pizza.

He presented the halved slice to me, which I took with quiet thanks. He smiled sheepishly and bit into his half while staring softly into my eyes.

I scooted my stool closer to him, so our arms touched from shoulder to elbow. I nudged him playfully, which he returned with a warm kiss on my cheek.