“Is that so?” I return his withering look with one of my own. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise you were investing in mechanical unicorns that fly you to outer space.”
Jake’s eyebrows rise at Casey as if to say and you asked me why I hadn’t told her. “They’re better than any kind of mechanical unicorn, Mac. These are exceptional pieces of machinery—either bought as original collectibles or vintage muscle cars that get restored to mint condition.”
“And they make a lot of money?” I ask.
“Some do, some don’t,” Jake concedes. “It’s more a labour of love that will probably take up a fair amount of spare time. Are you going to be okay with that?”
Jake and Casey both have a passion for restoring cars. It makes sense for them to share it with an investment like this. That they’re also able to get their hands dirty on the machinery is likely the bonus that has them signing on. Not to mention if Jake is talking cars with Casey, it means he isn’t talking cars with me. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate cars. They move fast and get you where you need to go, but my knowledge only extends to changing a tyre and filling the water for my windscreen wipers. That’s where I like to keep it. “Of course I’m okay with that.”
His eyes soften. Tucking a hand beneath my chin, Jake leans forward and presses a tender kiss to my lips. “You’re a sweetheart.”
“I thought we decided I wasn’t sweet,” I whisper, my heart doing flutters from his loving gesture. It’s seems today is a good day for us. A rare one that offers a glimpse of what we’d be like if we actually got our shit together.
“You are where it counts.” Jake drops his hand and glances meaningfully toward the juncture of my thighs. His dark eyes lift. “I’ve never tasted anything sweeter.”
My breath hitches. Wild thoughts of where we might find some private space so he can taste that sweetness right now run riot through my head.
The loud clearing of Casey’s throat cuts through my fog and reminds me we aren’t alone. Even Jake appears startled at his interruption. “If you two are finished having sex in my office, I’d like to get some work done.”
“If you think that’s sex, then you’re doing it wrong,” Jake quips.
“Har har,” Casey mutters as he lifts the lid of his laptop.
“Need to use the bathroom,” Jake says, already walking toward the office door. “If you aren’t going to be here long, I’ll take you out for lunch,” he calls to me over his shoulder before disappearing.
I turn to look at Casey. He’s tapping at his keyboard, his two fingers moving at a glacial pace. It’s like watching a chicken peck at the ground on a lazy Sunday afternoon. “Whatever you’re typing, it’s going to take all day.”
His blue eyes flick to mine before returning to the screen. “Well, you can either stand there and watch or do it for me.”
“Why would I do it for you? It’s likely something Tim should’ve done for you last week. That would mean doing him a favour.”
“And you know what that means?”
I arch a brow. “What?”
“Tim would then owe you one.”
“I like how you think.” I walk around his desk to where he sits. “Move.”
Casey doesn’t waste time vacating his fancy office chair. He stands and picks up a file from his in-tray as I set my box beside the computer and take his seat. My gaze goes to the screen as I unpin the button on my suit jacket. The man is apparently trying to transcribe his own handwritten notes into an email, and all that tapping has only gotten him so far as the salutation. I poise my hands over the keyboard before I tackle the correspondence. “You know what else this means?”
“What?” Casey asks, leaning against the side of his desk as he flicks through the loose papers in the file.
“You’ll owe me one too.”
Casey’s answer is a deep chuckle. “You’re a smart girl, Mac,” he says as I start typing. My fingers flash over the keyboard because I’m just that good. “Quick on the uptake too. If Jamieson doesn’t watch its back, I might just lure you over here to work for us.”
My fingers freeze, the words blurring in front of my eyes. Then I realise what he means and force myself to keep typing. “There’s not enough money in the world for me to consider becoming a secretary for my brothers.”
Casey bonks me on the head with his file before tossing it back in his in-tray. “I wasn’t talking about secretarial duties.”
I stop typing all together and swivel the tall leather chair to face him. “What were you talking about?”
“If you have to ask, then you’re not as smart as I just gave you credit for.”
That’s true. “Well, I have an idea,” I concede and fold my arms before saying coolly, “but what makes you think I want to become a member of the Badass Brigade?”
Casey winces. “You know we don’t actually call ourselves that, right?”
I shrug. “The moniker fits.”
With an exasperated sigh, Casey takes a seat on the opposite side of his desk. “There’s no stopping any of you with those ridiculous names you throw around is there?”
“Why would we stop? Besides, I heard Grace calling you Batman the other day. Granted, she probably didn’t mean it in a nice way considering how you accused her of trafficking drugs and smashed her phone against a wall, but still … you should be on board with that. It’s cool.”
His fingers tap irritably against the armrests of his chair. I chortle gleefully to myself. Any mention of Grace winds Casey up tighter than a spring. Their initial meeting got off to such a rocky start. When he collected her from the airport, he saw her hunted down by airport security and assumed the worst. The whole situation had me doubting my instincts until I saw the two of them together. Casey is the kindling to Grace’s spark. All that’s left to do is sit back and watch the fireworks.
“It’s better than hotdog,” I add.
“That’s true.”
“And we’re getting off topic.”
“True again.” Casey eyes me speculatively. “The thing is, Mac, you have a flair for this kind of work. You’re a Valentine. It’s in your blood.” My lips quiver beneath the minor praise. “But the issue is that you have a tendency to go rogue. You’re like Maverick from Top Gun. You put yourself in danger unnecessarily to get the job done. That needs to stop.”
My expression pinches. “I’m not a maverick,” I snap.
His brows rise, and he nods as if to say you sure as hell are. “You’re also quick to temper.”
“I’m not perfect,” I counter.
“Anyone who claims to be perfect is a fraud. You’re the opposite of a fraud, Mac. You’re honest and direct, and you have an exceptional ability to read people and situations in a way that no one else can. So if you ever decide you want to join the team, I’ll put in a good word for you.”
My mouth falls open. “You would do that for me?”
“I would, because there’s something else I also happen to know about you …”
I give up the farce of typing Casey’s email. Reaching forward, I close the lid of the laptop that rests between us. “What?”