Singe (Guardian Protection #1)

“You two tight?” he asked.

I abandoned my muffin and brushed my fingers off over the plate. “I’m tight with all the guys.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned back in his chair. “They seem to be pretty fond of you. I’ve been pulled aside and threatened with bodily harm every day this week.”

“I wish I could apologize, but you kinda deserved it.”

“I did,” he agreed immediately. “And, for the record, I’m sorry.”

“So…did you observe anything good?” I asked to change the subject.

“Actually, yes.”

I leaned in close and whispered, “Anything you care to share?”

He shrugged and lifted his coffee to his lips while keeping his gaze trained on mine. “I don’t know,” he said, setting it down. “You have anything to share about Friday night?”

I smiled. “Are you proposing a mutually beneficial exchange of information?”

“Perhaps.”

I leaned back in my chair and crossed my legs. His gaze drifted down, sliding all the way to my ballet flats then back up again. I fought the chill. And lost.

His lips seductively curled up. “So, what do you say?”

I steepled my fingers under my chin. “Depends. What kind of information could you possibly have that I’d want to know?”

He tipped his chin at the men huddled around the boxes on the counter. “Well, one of your so-called friends is avoiding you. Another is talking shit behind your back. And another wants to fuck you so hard that his balls are aching. Tell me why you were freaking out on Friday night and I’ll fill in the names for you.”

“No fucking way,” I exhaled dramatically.

“Way,” he confirmed, leaning forward and propping himself on a forearm. “Now, spill it. I remember following you into the pantry. You were crying, but I can’t for the life of me remember why. What were we talking about?”

I leaned in until I was only inches away from his face and kept my voice low. “I meant no fucking way am I taking that bait. I already know the answers.”

He arched an eyebrow and twisted his lips. “Okay, then, little Ms. Know It All—who’s avoiding you?”

I laughed. “Leo. He’s been avoiding me ever since I put the menu for this year’s Thanksgiving dinner on his desk. See, I’m the official—or unofficial, depending on who you ask—planner and host of Guardian’s Thanksgiving Feast. It’s only unofficial because Leo took my title away last year when Johnson ratted me out for not sticking to the budget. Yes, it was an extra three thousand dollars out of my own pocket, but I hired a chef and a full staff. My boys work hard and deserve more than just a turkey and boxed stuffing. They don’t half-ass anything when it comes to me. So yeah, I said fuck the budget and full-assed Thanksgiving. Leo will get over it.” I shrugged. “He kinda has to, considering I’ve already booked the chef again.” I lifted a finger in the air and added, “Third Thursday in November. My place. Save the date.”

He barely contained his mirth as he said, “You full-assed Thanksgiving?”

“Damn straight.”

That time, his lips didn’t twitch; they jumped straight into a grin.

I raked my teeth over my bottom lip, and he followed the movement with his eyes.

Still watching my mouth, he prompted, “And the one talking shit?”

“Devon. Let me guess: He’s telling everyone I’m a stripper?”

His brow furrowed. “You know about this?”

I clutched a hand over my heart. “Awww, I love that he’s been talking about me. It means he’s thinking about me.”

“No. What it means is he’s thinking about you naked and on a pole.”

I waved him off. “Devon’s harmless.”

“Harmless, yes. But he’s telling everyone in a fifty-mile radius that you’re a stripper.”

“Nah, he knows better than that. No one believes him anyway. You’ll find all of the guys think I have a different job. I like to keep them on their toes.” I made a show of glancing around us, and then I whispered, “Truth is I’m actually an aquatic veterinarian to the stars. Mum’s the word.”

“Aquatic veterinarian to the stars,” he repeated dryly.

“Yep. You can call me Dr. Koi.”

“Jesus Christ. You really are crazy.”

“Actually, what I am is private,” I informed. “Unfortunately, I’m also very social. Making friends is hard when you aren’t willing to tell them what you do for a living. And you’ll learn that the men of Guardian are more than just my friends. They’re my family. So yeah, they all get a different piece of me that allows them to accept me into their life, all while I keep my personal life private.”

He eyed me curiously. “And my piece of you is an aquatic veterinarian to the stars?”

“For now.” I grinned.

“Right. And what about Johnson? What kinda piece of you does he have?” he asked in the rough tone of Asshole Jude.

Only it made my stomach flutter this time. Was he jealous?

“Johnson’s…different.”

“Right. Of course,” he said, jerking his chin to someone over my shoulder. “What’s up, man?”

Lark twisted the chair beside me around and then straddled it, crossing his arms over the back of it. “Devon says you’re looking for a babysitter.”

“Desperately,” Jude sighed. “My stepdaughter’s flying in tonight. But I’ve got the senator’s son detail on Saturday. You know someone reliable?”

“I do. She’s fucking amazing. I fear sometimes my girls love her more than they do me.”

“Think I can get her number?”

“Sure.” Lark cupped my shoulder. “Rhion, give Levitt your number.”

Jude blinked.

I smiled huge. “I’d be happy to watch her.”

“Um…” He stalled, flashing his gaze to Lark. “Is the babysitter gig a piece of you?”

“No. Lark thinks I’m a tattoo artist.”

Lark looked at me in disgust. “I’m sorry. I think you’re a tattoo artist? Are you not?”

I patted his arm. “Of course I am, honey.” I tossed Jude a wink that made him chuckle. “All I meant is that babysitting is a real piece of me. I love kids. I keep Lark’s girls at least once a month. And I sit for Leo and Sarah sometimes, too.”

“Holy shit,” Lark breathed. “If you don’t do tattoos, are you seriously a stripper?”

“Shh…” I urged, leveling him with a glare that made Jude’s chuckle become a belly laugh.

Lark turned his disbelief on Jude.

To which Jude shrugged and said, “Mum’s the word.”

I didn’t know much about Jude. Whether he was a Republican or Democrat. If he liked football or baseball. If he liked his eggs scrambled or fried. But, right then, a piece of me fell in love with him.

Lark cussed under his breath, and I felt him staring at me, but my gaze remained anchored to Jude’s smirking face.

A few seconds later, Johnson announced that team meetings were about to start and Lark got up and left. Jude never tore his eyes off me as he folded out of his chair and then rose to his feet.

My heart pounded in my chest as I watched him bend, his mouth heading toward me. I prepared myself by licking my lips. He was going to kiss me. I was sure of it.

He didn’t.

But what he did do was whisper in my ear, “It was me.”