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“I think you might need a time-out.” Jack picked her up and held her against his chest. One arm held her to him, while with the other hand, he lightly patted her bottom. He gave Jameson a nod of respect.
Ian followed him into the bedroom. But he gave patted Jameson’s back on his way.
The hotel just had one bedroom so he’d sleep on the sofa. But even though he was on the wrong side of the door, he felt like he was starting to fit in with the three of them.
As though he had his place.
Twenty minutes later, the bedroom door opened, and Ian and Jack walked out. He raised his eyebrows. “How is she?”
“Asleep,” Ian said. “She takes too much on, internalizes it. She was bloody well going on about how she’s worried about us.”
“Mostly him.” Jack nodded at Jameson.
“Me?” he asked, shocked.
“Yeah, about you being back in London and it bringing up bad memories for you.”
Fuck. She was too sweet for her own good.
“Anyway, we’re heading out,” Jack said in a casual voice.
Um, what now?
“So you’re looking after our girl.” Ian frowned as he said that. As though it didn’t make him happy. “Don’t fuck it up.”
“Or else,” Jack added.
“Are you two joking right now?” he asked.
“No,” Ian bit out.
“I never joke.” Jack grinned at their glares. “Joking. I’m joking. Sheesh.”
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“To get anything we can salvage from her apartment that we can salvage,” Ian said, holding up a key with a fluffy zebra head keyring.
“I’ll go do that,” he said quickly. “One of you should stay here with her. She might wake up and need you.”
Ian shook his head. “If this Billy is watching the place or has someone there, we’re better able to protect ourselves.”
“I’m not completely helpless,” Jameson said.
“But you’re not as good as us,” Jack told him. “And if she wakes up, you’ll be here.”
“Take good fucking care of her,” Ian warned. “Do not fuck this up. There are no second chances.”
Right. Of course. No second chances.
No pressure then.
He tried to settle down and watch something. Fuck. Nothing would settle his nerves. He hated being back here. And it was ridiculous. He wasn’t going to run into anyone he knew.
His father was gone and his mother was off with her new husband.
And even if he did, what did he care?
No . . . that wasn’t the reason he was on edge. It was to do with her. Making sure that she was looked after, protected. It had him on edge.
