Live Wire (Ramsey Security #2)

The world refuses to allow us this moment. Hearing Ruth speak to the dogs as she walks down the hallway, Brad steps back from me. His gaze remains on my lips though. I don't turn away until the very last moment before Ruth enters the kitchen.

Likely sensing the tension in the room, she says nothing about Brad's silence. Or ask why I have two bowls of cereal. She's only interested in the dogs barking half of the night.

Eating quickly, I need to work rather play lovesick girl. Brad sits across from me and returns to his paper. He barely glances up when I take my bowls to the dishwasher before hurrying from the kitchen. Despite claiming he has little experience with women, Brad knows I'm hooked.

The dogs follow me outside. Remaining agitated, they search for whatever pissed them off the night before. I notice the dogs don't sniff the ground, catching a scent. The German Shepherds follow me around the perimeter where I find nothing disturbed.

By the time Minka joins me in the backyard, the dogs are snoring in grass.

"Someone's flying drones over the property at night," I say rather than offering a greeting.

"How do you know?"

"Something rattled the dogs all night. The motion sensors and cameras didn't pick up anything. Drones are the only other possibility I can think of."

"Makes sense. So who was spying?"

"Could be the press, the cult, or some loser looking for interesting video to upload on YouTube."

"It's illegal to shoot them down, so make sure you treat any downed drones like a body and get rid of the evidence."

Smiling at her comment, I ask, "Are you ready for the New York trip?"

"Yeah, sure. But more importantly, have you thrown yourself at Brad yet?"

"No."

"Why not?" she asks, sitting at the patio table. "What if you get shot in the vagina tomorrow? You don't want to live with regrets, babe."

Joining her at the table, I yawn. "I can't tell if you're being nice or mocking me."

"Why can't it be both?"

Rolling my eyes, I hate how easily she teases me. "What if I get distracted by the sexual activities and the cult breaks in and kills everyone?"

"In this scenario, are you dead? Because dead girls suffer no regrets."

"And if I live?"

"You say oops and move on with your life. I can't imagine allowing these people to die would be the worst thing you've ever done in your life."

Balking, I mutter, "I care about these people."

"Why?"

Shrugging, I fall into silence and hope she'll go away. Minka refuses to give me a break.

"Would you care if I died?"

"Yes," I admit.

"Would you cry?"

"If you died in a sad way, I might."

"Define sad. Like if I died holding a puppy?" I laugh at the mental image, which proves such a death wouldn't be too sad. Minka grins. "Brad seems soft."

"Is this where I tell you to fuck off and storm away? Or am I supposed to turn to you for big sis advice?"

"I think I'm younger than you."

"You are mentally, yes."

"Touché."

"I will sleep with Brad on my own terms and time table."

"Good."

Frowning at her, I say nothing. Minka grins brightly as if she's won the argument.

"I don't have many girlfriends," she says, "For whatever reason, I've never gotten along with women."

"You have a very harsh personality, and women seek kindness."

"Do you need a hug?"

"I imagine people often want to punch you."

"I imagine that too. Hey, see how much we think alike?"

"Twins again."

"Hmm... Sarcasm is sexy on you. Try that stuff with Brad."

A flush of heat overcomes me at the sound of his name. "I know how to seduce a man."

"Sorry to talk down to you. I guess I figured you were a little frigid."

"Thanks for helping," I say, standing up. "We need to set up cameras on the roofline to know when the drones are watching."

"There are ways to jam the signals. Again not legal."

"The law pisses me off."

"Lawlessness was definitely more fun."

Walking inside the house, we find Ruth reading a book in the living room.

"The boys are training," she says, looking up to smile at Minka.

I don't particularly care that Ruth clearly prefers Minka to me. A mother's disapproval isn't necessary to quench my lust for Brad.

Finding a sweaty and shirtless Brad, I'm momentarily dumbfounded by the sight. Certain nothing can quench my intense lust, I doubt even hours and hours in bed might help. Nothing seems enough to douse the heat in my gut.

Despite my need for this man, I notice the scars on his back. The police report indicated a cult member named Dennis Stein carved symbols into Brad as a part of a ceremony. The scars lack the precision of a professional hand. Stein wasn't accustomed to slashing into the human body. His lack of skill likely explains why he found himself dead at Brad's hands.

My thoughts return to the present when I hear Marx grunting in an exaggerated fashion. He's likely showing off for my benefit. Or possibly he thinks Minka might be nearby and he wants her to notice his efforts. Either way, Marx doesn't interest me.

"I bet this badass could show us some moves," Marx says, giving me a big smile.

Ignoring him, I slide off my boots and walk onto the padded floor.

"You turned this room into a sparring room?" I ask Brad.