“Are you going to punch him again?” She wasn’t sure she should go.
Ten waved her off. “Go. Let us talk about manly stuff. Call me if you need me, but I’ll be back when the club opens for business. Maybe I can look at some pretty girls. I can’t say I want to have anything to do with the whipping crap, but the costumes are nice.”
“Your sister’s going to be in one Friday. That is if she doesn’t hide in her room,” Taggart pointed out.
“Maybe I’ll just stay outside then,” Ten said, going a little green.
Taggart laughed and poured Ten another. Someone was going to have to drive him back to base. “Do you have any idea how happy I am that my asshole dad only knew how to make boys? I’m so glad that baby in Charlie’s belly has a penis. I have no idea what to do with girls.”
As she walked away, she kind of hoped whatever sonogram Charlotte Taggart had proved false. If any man deserved a daughter, it was Ian Taggart.
What did Jesse deserve? A woman with a whole heart. A woman who could love him without reservation or regret. Unfortunately, for the next few days, all he had was her. So why did a little piece of her thrill at the idea of walking the club with him? For the first time in forever, she had no idea what was going to happen that week.
It made her feel alive. Yeah, that was dangerous.
Jesse stared at the bed. Damn Tag. What the hell was he thinking forcing him to share a bedroom with Phoebe for god only knew how long?
They should have let him go back to Wyoming. He had half a mind to bust out and leave anyway.
“Hey, we brought your things,” a soft voice said behind him.
He turned and Chelsea Weston stood in the doorway, her husband behind her. Simon towered over his wife, but his eyes were soft as he looked down at her. “She packed for you. She claims I would pick the most uncomfortable things possible. I tried to tell her you don’t own anything that qualifies. And you should really prepare yourself.”
He was about to ask for what when Chelsea flew across the room and threw her arms around him.
Simon laughed indulgently, picking up the bag she’d dropped. “Sorry, she hugs now. I can’t quite stop her.”
Jesse sighed and hugged her back. How had he ever doubted Simon? Simon was his partner, and maybe it had started out with Simon being forced to watch him, but they were friends now and Jesse promised he wouldn’t question that again. He would be grateful for the friends he’d made in this place. “I don’t mind.”
He’d spent so much time with no one to hold on to that he liked the fact that the women of McKay-Taggart hugged often and well.
Phoebe had started hugging him about three months after they’d met. She would wrap her arms around him and lay her head on his shoulder for a long while before breaking it off and saying good morning or good night.
Chelsea broke away, sniffling. “I can’t believe she nearly killed you.”
He hadn’t thought about the fact that Chelsea could get a little protective. Chelsea likely wouldn’t listen to logic, but he had to try. “In her defense, she didn’t pull the trigger.”
“There is no defense for what she did,” Chelsea said with complete conviction. “I don’t understand why Satan hasn’t taken her out yet. She should be strung up. You know what, if Ian won’t do what needs to be done, then I will. I will make her life a living hell. She will wish I’d just put her on the no-fly list. I’m going to put an APB out on her ass. I’ll get her on the sex offender list. Hell, I’ll put her number up at Craig’s list with a long menu of sexual services she’s willing to provide for very little money. See how she likes that.”
Chelsea could be a little fierce when she cared about a person, but Jesse thought she was also being the slightest bit hypocritical in this case. “Uhm, aren’t you kind of doing the same thing to Ten’s unit? He knows about that now, by the way.”
Chelsea waved him off. “I’m doing it for good. She’s obviously evil. And Ten’s giving me a ten percent raise if I don’t leave. You can bet Ian won’t be doing that with Miss Happy Trigger Finger.”
“No, I think it’s safe to say I’m going to be looking for another job.”
Jesse turned and there was Phoebe. She’d let her hair down at some point and gotten rid of the sweater she always wore around the office, swearing Taggart kept it too cold for her. Jesse was pretty sure now she’d done it all to hide the fact that she had the most beautiful set of breasts he’d ever seen. They weren’t huge, but they were so perfectly formed he couldn’t take his eyes off them.
“And I prefer Ms. Grant,” Phoebe said as she walked into the room. “My trigger finger is very precise, not happy, which is why our boy is standing here right now. I didn’t follow direct orders. I didn’t shoot him and I wouldn’t have. And I hate flying, so you’ll have to come up with something better than the no-fly list.”
“How about the APB where I tell them to shoot on sight, bitch?”