AllFreeNovel
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I feel years older than twenty-nine, but it’s a matter of perspective. To Natasha, we’re young. Since I’ve never had anyone play mom, other than those who saw me as part nuisance and part government paycheck—bravo to the foster system—I eat it up.
It’s after ten at night. Ivy and Celeste are upstairs, settling down, so Natasha called the four of us boys to a meeting in the kitchen. She passed out cookies to us at the breakfast bar before moving to address us from the prepping island, which has Wells biting back a smile and Gage in his glory. As the smartest one in the group, I snagged a beer.
The expansive kitchen is stunning, if I do say so myself—gothic-chic vibes, two huge islands, matte blacks and cherry wood, top-of-the-line stainless steel appliances. It’s the first renovation I completed with Ivy. A monument to wading through those hard days of her grief and PTSD.
“We need to discuss Ivanna’s security detail,” Natasha says, diving in.
“What’s to discuss?” Wells asks. He only clashes with Ivy’s mom when he thinks Natasha is usurping his authority. Always in Chief mode.
“Where are they?” she retorts with a well-rehearsed fake smile that makes Ty laugh beside me.
“You’re looking at them,” Wells volleys.
This should be fun. I swig my Modelo with a mile-wide grin. I live for this shit.
Natasha closes her eyes and drinks in a slow, deliberate breath. I bet she’s counting. “It’s not enough. With the baby coming now, this can’t be your long-term plan. My daughter and grandchild need adequate protection.”
“My wife and child have the best protection available.” He’s tamping down his anger, but when his possessiveness emerges, fireworks are sure to follow.
I elbow Ty, who puffs an under-his-breath chuckle, while Gage sets his cookie down, reaches around Ty, and punches my bicep.
“Ow. Motherfucker.”
All heads flick toward me in admonishment, so Gage not-so-quietly mutters, “Dipshit,” as if the volume were the only issue here.
“Language. Sorry, Natasha.” I lob a hitchhiker’s thumb toward the Big Guy. “Gage hit me.”
Fuck. I sound like I’m ten.
“It’s fine.” She flaps a forget-about-it hand. “I’ve heard it all. From you boys, I might add. Keep your hands to yourself though, Gage.” She sighs hushed frustration as we all side-eye Gage. “Can we stay on track, please?”
“Absolutely,” Wells asserts with a chastising glare on the three of us.
Poor Ty, guilty by association.
Wells moves to stand opposite Natasha at the prepping island. “We transport her in armored cars, only allow her to enter buildings that have been swept, and vet anyone who will be anywhere near her. The property is a fortress. Locked down. Guarded. Video surveillance that we constantly monitor. I assure you, I’m handling it.”
Ivy also has a tracking chip behind her ear. We all do, but we don’t share that with anyone. Not even Natasha.
“And who will accompany your wife and your child to activities in the years to come?” she counters.
He ambles to the liquor cabinet, plucking his bottle of Macallan 18 and pouring three fingers’ worth before moseying to the ice dispenser. Stalling is a tactic Wells uses. It calms his temper and rattles his opponent.
“Two of us, like always. Security without a personal stake can be bought by the enemy. I won’t risk it,” he insists.
Natasha flips her gaze to the three of us watching the show. “Is that how you see your future? Guarding another man’s wife and child?”
I take that one while Wells makes much-needed cocktails for Ty and Gage. “We don’t see it like that. We all love Ivy. She’s our family.”
Her face softens with a mixture of awe and sadness. “I have no doubt you all love my daughter and will strive to always keep her safe. You’ve proven that. But juggling work, the baby, and eventually your own wives and families will prove to be too much sooner than you realize. You need to hire a more personal security staff now, so they can get invested.”
“We’re not worried,” Gage rasps. “There’s no scenario where Ivy is a burden. Your daughter has countless hits on her every damn day. She’s not leaving this house without us. Ever.”
That response wins a proud smile from Wells, who attempts to hide it with a swill of his scotch.
“I’m moved by your devotion,” Natasha says, smoothing her chin-length blonde hair. Her blue eyes seem heavy. After losing Tom, her whole heart resides in this house. “Truly. But you can’t honestly believe your future wives will appreciate you being at the beck and call of your friend’s family.”
“With all due respect, Natasha, Ivy is far more than that.” Ty’s voice is thick with emotion. The idea of leaving Ivy unprotected probably lands like an accusation on him. “There’s nothing we wouldn’t do for her.”
