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“The timing,” Jane explains. “Moffy is newly engaged, and our grandmother is most likely hoping I’ll marry a man before him. Just so I’ll be the first down the aisle. It’s a heinous power-move that deserves booing and tomato-throwing.”
“I can’t know for sure, but I’ll take care of it.” I straighten up to a towering stance. “I’ve got your six, always.”
Aawwwww
“You wanna see her?” I glower. “You can’t.” I hear my Philly lilt break through. Banks jokes that my accent is stronger the more pissed I get. I don’t think that’s true.
I pick up more SFO comms chatter, and I listen while I motion to other middle-aged suitors to get the fuck out. What I hear: “Buncha skeevy fucks,” Donnelly says, South Philly lilt thicker than mine.
But my biggest irritation is the radio. Omega uses comms like a gossip network or complaint hotline. It was fucking painful during the FanCon. Banks and I say that it’s 104.1 Call-In-Your-Bullshit channel.
“I’m not debating you. I’m not your fucking transport or access to see Jane. If you want to approach her house or stand here and disturb the peace, you’re going to eat asphalt.”
“That was before the ad.” He means before he knew what she was looking for. Confirmed suitor. Which means he’s looking to what…date her…coerce her…fuck her? Fuck him.
He wants to meet Jane. Good luck. She’s an American princess. Take a fucking number and wait forever. Because I’m never letting it happen. She’s my responsibly. My duty. He can go shove his dick in an exhaust pipe.
He says he likes the spontaneity of the position. But Banks took this role for me. He said I was gasoline in a bottle. I made a massive mistake when I hit Farrow, and I couldn’t get out of my head. My brother wanted to be under the same roof as me again. Just so I wouldn’t light myself on fire with rage and fucking regret.
That’s a lot. “Three transitions in one day.” He touches the horns at his sternum. “Semper Gumby, man.” I almost smile. It means always flexible. Something from the Marines. It’s my brother to a fucking tee. Missions get fragged, and you’ve got to be ready for new orders. New direction. Always flexible. “Oorah,” I say lightly.
“What is it?” Banks asks, studying my posture. I unwrap the cord around the radio. “I told Jane that we served in the Corps.” Banks laughs hard. “No you didn’t.” I look him right in the eyes. Unflinching. “I did.”
He rubs his eyes. “So you told her that we served, but you didn’t tell her why. Did you tell her we’re combat vets?” “No.” “Did you tell her you were a squad leader?” “No.” Banks scratches the scruff on his jaw. “What you’re telling me then is you’ve given her a millimeter, and you made an oath with Jane to be more transparent.” He lifts his shoulders in a tight shrug. “Just go the full hundred yards, Thatcher.”
“I, um…” She struggles for words. Fridge is open, a half-gallon of milk in her hand. “I was just…” Intrigue drops her gaze to my unshaved chest and carved muscles, the ridges of my eight-pack, and she mutters a breathy, “Oh my God.”
“What exactly is a mapeen?” Now I’m shaking the fucking cobwebs out of my head. “A…” What’s a mapeen in English called? It’s not hitting me fast. I take another beat. “…dish…towel, dish rag.”
“Take it.” I nod to the half-gallon. “I can get more later.” It’s either going to her six cats or a cereal bowl, and her cats are more important than one of the guys eating Frosted Flakes.
I rub my hands dry on my bath towel, and her attention follows the movement and drifts on its own course to my crotch. I’m trying not to imagine a lot, and as soon as she notices that I just noticed she stared at my cock—she sends me an apologetic look. “You’re fine,” I confirm. She shouldn’t feel bad for that. I’ve pictured her in more carnal positions, and I must wear some of my guilt. “You’re fine too,” Jane says quickly.
We’re not exhaling like we should. But I loosen my joints and open a top cabinet, seizing a shot glass. “You want to ask me something?” “You’re missing your necklace,” she says in a single breath. I didn’t expect that.
“Not that I stare at your chest…all the time. Because I don’t…” She pauses. “Though, it’s inevitable to look at your chest. Because, you see, your chest is connected to your neck which is connected to your face…” She touches her forehead like she’s burning up. “And it’s in my line of sight.” I’m so close to a smile, it fucking alarms me. Usually only Banks makes me smile.
“You know the horns on the necklace?” I ask. Surprise jumps her brows. Not by what I’m asking. Just that I’m reciprocating. She can’t hide this cheerful smile, and seeing her this happy makes me feel good. Really good.
“Are you panting?” “She’s definitely breathing hard,” Farrow states. “What?” My mind snaps into clearer focus, and my face burns as I notice my audience of two men. Right where I left them.
He’s never once made me feel like an unwanted third-wheel. He’s never pushed me out. He’s also gone out of his way to ensure I have plenty of time with Moffy. Even the night of the car crash. He’s given my best friend more, and somehow, he’s given me more, too.
I love farrow
Farrow tilts his head. “You saw Moretti.” He’s also observant and perceptive, exactly what I’d hope for in the bodyguard to my best friend. “Wait, what?” Maximoff whips toward his one true love so quickly that he nearly sloshes hot tea on himself. “Fuck.” “Careful.” Farrow smiles into a bite of oatmeal.
Maximoff nods a few times. “Rewind.” He motions with his mug, and hot tea almost spills again. My smile grows. Farrow laughs hard. “Shut up,” Maximoff groans, nearing a smile. He looks over at me like save me from my bodyguard.
Maximoff follows my gaze. “My sister could sleep through a stampede of rhinos. I don’t think she’s dead.” He stiffens, brotherly concern sharpening his cheekbones. “We should go check—” “You two,” Farrow cuts in, “she’s fine. You checked on her an hour ago.”
neck. “So you saw Thatcher?” He reroutes the topic back to me. “Oui.” I sip my lukewarm coffee. “We just naturally ran into each other, but he was…a little…well, he was slightly naked.” “Naked?” Farrow repeats, his brown brows spiking. “Moretti? The fucking hall monitor?” Maximoff scrunches his face. “What the fuck is slightly naked?” “Chest high. He was in a towel,”
Farrow stares up at the ceiling, then looks at me. “You sure you saw Thatcher and not Banks?” My forehead crinkles in hurt. “Of course I’m sure it was Thatcher. I can tell them apart. Easily.”
Maximoff turns to Farrow. “How’d you even know she ran into Thatcher?” I’m curious about this too. He drops his foot off the cushion. “Man, she’s hot and bothered, and there’s only one bodyguard who makes her turn that red.”
So I keep talking, what I shouldn’t do. “It’s not as though I’d ever act on my hot-and-bothered feelings. I don’t trust any dick near my vagina.” Not after Nate. “…although, that’s not completely true because I do trust Thatcher. Naturally. He’s my bodyguard, but he’s off-limits, unattainable, just a man who turns me on. That’s all.”
“But,” Farrow says, running a thumb over his hoop lip piercing, “I’m not a petty fucker. He hasn’t even glared at me since your birthday.” Back in June. “And he’s not on my ass while we’re on-duty. Shit, he’s been relatively easy to work with, so something’s changed.” He looks to Maximoff, as though handing the baton over. Moffy is too rigid to even drink his tea. “Your bodyguard cares about you, Janie. And it’s on a personal level.”
“Three.” Farrow lifts his middle finger. “Bodyguard transfers happen all the time. Guys may have their preferences on who they want to protect, but we all love your family enough to not really give a shit at the end of the day. We’re just happy to be on-duty. You don’t do what Moretti did without liking a client, and I’d know because I’d do whatever it took to stay on Maximoff’s detail.”
“So he likes me on a personal level. I’m attracted to him. It’s not like anything can happen.”
Farrow lifts his brows. “Okay, here’s the thing.” He places his oatmeal bowl on the coffee table. “Whatever personal and professional shit that I have going on with Thatcher, that’s between me and him. We’re both twenty-eight, not eighteen. We’d put protecting you two above every fucking thing.”
Farrow splays his earpiece cord over his shoulder. “Putting all that shit aside, I’m going to be honest here: Thatcher won’t do what I did. He won’t break the rules for you like I broke them for Maximoff. I can’t even see him breaking a rule for his own twin brother.”
“No hearts. No body parts. It’s solely faraway attraction. Love is a two-way street that neither of us are driving down.” Maximoff stares faraway in thought. “Famous ones.” Farrow looks between the two of us with slowly rising brows. “Your inexperience is showing.”
“Love can definitely be a one-way street, and trust me, you don’t want to be the one who drives down it.” “Did you drive down it?” I wonder. Maximoff tunes in. “Drive where?” We laugh. He blinks slowly into a glare. “I apparated to another dimension.” “Still in Philly, wolf scout.”
“Famous ones.” We look over at the kitchen. Farrow rests a shoulder casually on the archway, a red apple between his fingers. “While this entire pseudo Criminal Minds episode is entertaining as fuck, what’s the endgame here?”
But I prefer to fight my battles myself, so I’m handling this alone. Well…with a slight assist from my best friend. And his fiancé. And very soon, I’ll need my bodyguard. So I’m technically not alone, but as my dad always says, some battles are best fought with a sidekick. These three men are mine.
He looks up at Maximoff. “There is something we could do, wolf scout.” “No,” I cut in. “You’re not eloping because of her.” Emotion burns my eyes. His lip quirks. “I didn’t say anything about eloping, Cobalt, but nice try.”
I catch another glimpse of Jane. If she looks at you a lot, it means she likes you. Childhood advice, man. It pops into my head like a bullet piercing a tin can. And now I’m staring at my client and thinking, look back at me.
I shouldn’t want to be the receiver of Jane’s vibrant energy or any fucking thing that belongs to her mind or body, but I keep thinking, look at me. She turns her head. And looks right at me.
I sense another pair of eyes on me. Not Jane Not Maximoff. But Farrow—he’s been sitting and lacing up his black boots at the iron café table. He’s less than two meters away from me, and his threatening glare feels even fucking closer.
Walrus tries to paw his nose, and Farrow jerks back with a smile. “Not today, you little bastard.” He lets Walrus go, and the cat scampers into the kitchen.
Over frying bacon, Akara told me, “You’ll need to dig into Farrow harder, so none of the guys think he’s getting special treatment.” Akara knew that I’d already been trying to grill him. I nodded. “You stay easy on Farrow. I’ve been a pain in his ass this long. You don’t need to lose his respect.”
Woah
Farrow drops his voice to a low, rough whisper. “Just don’t coddle me. Don’t kiss my ass as penance. Don’t fuck with my fiancé or Jane, and we won’t have a problem.”
Imagining Jane falling in love with other men punctures something hot in me and I need to think of brighter things before I pop a blood vessel. Puppies. Rainbows. Pussy. God, Jane is right in front of me. Maybe not pussy.
Get rid of the fullback and the Wall of Suitors. “What about just calling your grandmother?” I ask Jane. Farrow chimes in, “That’s what I said before these two started tacking dipshits up on the wall.”
She starts again, “Grandmother—” “I was disappointed that you put out a press release demeaning the advertisement. But I understand. Not everyone loves surprises.” Farrow rolls his eyes. “Grandmother. It was—” “Better news is coming, dear.” Jane sighs out in frustration from being cut off. “I’ve scheduled an afternoon tea this Saturday,” her grandmother says. “But—” “And I’ve picked out the three best men from the resumes. You’ll find a winner in one of them.” She takes a breath. “Grandmo—” “I’ll send the details over. See you Saturday, and wear a dress.”
I fucking hate her
“Yeah.” She nods, thinking. “It’s such a strange time to be moving in with you two.
Yay
And now she’s finally decided to leave the nest. She’s flown the parental coup and landed in our cramped but loving home. Sulli could have so easily chosen my brothers’ flat in Hell’s Kitchen, seeing as how she’s best friends with Beckett. We’ve always had the open invitation extended to her, but I was even surprised when she finally accepted it.
Our big life changes affect the lives of our bodyguards. Sulli’s move means that Akara Kitsuwon is officially living in security’s townhouse.
Woah yay
