Fucking hell, he kicked a leg over his bike.
“Yeah,” he finally answered. Since her laser-beam stare focused on him, she paused to judge the sincerity of his answer, then nodded and stuck out her hand to Trace. He eagerly shook it.
“Dev told me great things about you. Be patient with me. I’m in apprentice mode.” Trace might as well have rubbed his body in sugar and offered her a taste with the silly grin she gave. If she giggled, he’d puke right there in the parking lot.
“Does this mean Pecker’s off the schedule?” she asked happily like she’d magically turned into a ray of fucking sunshine.
Oh hell, he was back to being contrary.
Why had Cash ever thought this was a good fucking idea?
He stared at Millie who continued to smile at Trace. Their handshake was lasting a long time.
Holy shit, he’d fallen under Trace’s spell too. Last night, they’d spent hours talking over Dev’s life. What he did, how he did it. Trace soaked up the intel like a sponge. That meant Trace got a free lesson in tattoo design. Dev gave nothing away for free.
“Come inside and fawn over him there,” Dev said over his shoulder as he started toward the parlor. “We’re gonna give him a day, see how he does before reschedulin’ Peck. He’ll sit with me while I work today. This afternoon, he’s gonna ink over Tena’s name on my chest. We came up with a design last night. Can you give him a tour of the buildin’ then show him where you keep everything? I want you to sit with us as he gets started on me then sit with him as he inks this week.”
“Sure,” she said, as if that were the best idea ever. He glanced over his shoulder to see her walking side by side with Trace as they followed Dev.
“This is Dev’s old man’s bike shop. They call him Fox. He sells and services bikes. Lots of people come and go all the time,” Millie explained, probably at the way Trace’s eyes glazed over at all the high-dollar motorcycles.
“What’s up there?” Trace asked.
“The office,” Dev answered, pulling at the door handle to the studio. He used his foot to prop open the door to let the two go through first. Trace motioned for Millie to precede him. Millie grinned as she passed by, clearly impressed with what she thought were Trace’s good manners. When Dev extended a hand to hold the door for Trace, he refused to budge and cocked his head for Dev to enter first.
They were in a standoff.
Trace’s no-nonsense stare spoke of some dark shit. For a moment, he’d let himself forget why Trace was there in the first place.
Bodyguard capacity.
Right.
Irritation shot through him like lava, burning fast and furious through his veins. This was his fucking life now. The brief reprieve from the mental complexities of the investigation came roaring back. Because not a goddamn thing had really changed except Cash wasn’t anywhere nearby. That pissed him off too.
Dev pushed off the door, slinging it backward and out of Trace’s hand. He had to bite back the words on the tip of his tongue. The foul language ran fast and loose through his head.
“Show him around,” Dev barked, not looking at either Millie or Trace. “When’s my first appointment?”
“About thirty minutes,” Millie said, sounding confused. But the attitude she gave reminded him of the chick he employed. Good.
“I’m gonna get ready,” Dev said, not looking back. He slammed the office door shut behind him. He needed the minute to process his anger, or he’d be barking at everyone all day.
=♥=
Cash listened to Joe summarize Trace’s text message. After all the camaraderie between the two men, Cash was surprised at how quickly things turned. They’d left not twenty minutes ago. He got the meaning behind the message after the first line but continued to actively listen until the end.
Dev had apparently had a sudden strong mood shift. The bodyguard saw the moment Dev’s attitude had taken a turn, claiming Dev was very transparent in his attitude changes. No lie there. Now his biker was shut inside his workspace, completely alone. Trace had no idea what was going on, but Millie had said Dev’s behavior wasn’t all that peculiar.
Yep, it wasn’t. Dev was an open book. Easy to read, if anyone dared to get to know him. But a person had to stay on guard. The man flipped on a dime, and spoke plainly, either through words or actions.
So the easygoing guy from last night had morphed back into the devil in the daylight hours. A hard to handle alpha male intent on leading the course of his life like an angry lion protecting his lands. Cash rose from his seat, taking his cell phone with him.
He said nothing to Joe as he typed a text to Dev. Since his heart, and his head for that matter, told him this was going to require a phone call, Cash stepped out of the apartment and into the hall.
“Why are you locked up in your workspace? What happened?”Cash sent that text then reached for the doorknob to shut the door behind him. He walked the length of the catwalk to Dev’s apartment. There were fewer recording devices in there and none inside Dev’s bedroom.
He saw thereadindicator pop up next to his message then the bouncing dots drummed along the bottom of the screen.
