“Three,” I replied automatically, but caught his grin. “Shut up.”
“So,” he started, settling deeper into his chair, “ready to hear me out?”
I’d been waiting for this since his cryptic message two days ago, but I already knew what it was about. I’d heard enough gossip through our mutual networks. “You dragged me to small-town Michigan, to a coffee shop at seven in the morning, to pitch me on joining your security firm.”
“Oursecurity firm.” He leaned forward, elbows on the wooden table. “Arthur, Lancelot, and me. We need someone with your specific skill set.”
“Which would be?”
“Your chronic suspicion of everything that breathes.” The corner of his stupid mouth twitched. “And your language skills would be an asset.”
“Merlin speaks more languages than I do. Talk to him if you need a linguist.”
He waved my comment aside. “Plus, our history together doesn’t hurt.”
“Plenty of guys with that resume, including Merlin.”
“Plenty of guys aren’t as good as you are.” He tapped a finger on the table. “We have office space down the street, all the permits are filed, and the equipment is on its way. Arthur’s handling the business end, and Lance is tapping his network for clients.”
“I’m in talks with White Spring Security,” I countered, watching a new customer approach from the sidewalk. The bell above the door chimed as she came in, making a beeline for the front counter. Confident woman in a sweatshirt and tights. “They’ve got all the official connections, a formal HR structure, and premium benefits. If you intend to compete with them, you’d better have a strong pitch.”
“We can match all of it.” Tristan’s expression turned serious. “Whatever number they threw at you, we can beat it. Arthur’s got the backing.”
“Let me guess. Arthur’sfatheris the backing?”
Arthur’s father owned Pendragon Security, the defense contractor we’d all worked for after leaving the SEALs. We’d been a tight group, which I hadn’t expected to find so quickly after the Navy. I didn’t like tight groups, but our years in Afghanistan had produced solid results, so I’d stayed with Pendragon until the US withdrawal. Since then, I’d been moving from one private contract to another and was on the hunt for more reliability.
White Spring Security was another large contractor, and they offered stability, an excellent salary, and the one thing Pendragon didn’t have: no pre-existing ties.
His jaw tightened momentarily. “The money’s solid, regardless of its source. And you won’t be chained to a desk writing reports until your soul dies.”
The server approached our table with our orders on a tray. She had high cheekbones, bright green eyes, and a hell of a body hidden behind her apron. Not to mention a smile wide enough to make myownteeth ache. She set Tristan’s drink down with theatrical flair. “One ridiculously complicated latte for you. And for you—” She turned to me, playfulness dancing in her eyes. “One ridiculously no-frills black coffee.”
I tried not to frown at her, but the proximity of the caffeine hit was messing with my senses, so I probably did. “Coffee doesn’t have to be complicated.”
“A purist.” She placed our sandwiches in front of us, and my stomach nearly growled in appreciation. The food smelled amazing. “I can respect that.”
Tristan’s grin widened. “Don’t let his grumpy exterior fool you, Grace. He’s actually?—”
“Professional,” I cut in, more curt than I needed to be. “Thank you for the coffee.”
“Enjoy your breakfast, gentlemen.” She walked away, her ponytail and hips swaying with each step.
“Smooth,” Tristan drawled once she was out of earshot. He drew closer and dropped his volume. “She’s single, you know.”
Sure, her jeans clung to a fine ass, but I was only passing through as a favor to Tristan. I didn’t need to be distracted by a woman who used smiles and hip sways to weasel extra tip money from customers. “Not interested, bud.”
Not moving away from me, he whispered, “And self-sufficient. She’s the owner.”
“Still not interested.” I pulled my plate toward myself. “Now, did you haul me here to discuss my social life, or is there an actual job on the table?”
“Can’t it be both?” His teasing smile made me want to throw the plant at him. “You’ve been watching her since we walked in.”
“I watch everyone. It’s what keeps people alive.”
“Right, because coffee shops are common hotbeds of assassination attempts.” He took an exaggerated sip of his latte. “Remember the day near the old Balkh outer wall when the insurgents attacked after we’d found the coin stash?”
I lifted my coffee to my lips, partly to avoid responding, partly because the aroma was too tempting to resist. The flavor landed harder than I’d expected—rich, slightly chocolatey, witha depth that lingered. Damn. There was no way it was only coffee. She must have added a sweetener or something to it.
