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That left two of them, and Gunner was the last of them ready to take on another job involving asset protection. He may never be ready to do that type of work again.
Which meant Razor would be it. What if the twin who needed protection was Ava-of-the-hot-red-bikini? How in the hell would that work?
“Say no,” said Gunner when Doc and Merrigan walked away.
“Is that really an option?”
“Of course it is. Tell Doc you have a conflict of interest.”
Razor scrunched his eyes. “What if it’s the other twin?”
“And what if it’s not? Listen to me, tell him you want in her panties too bad to be able to effectively protect her. You don’t think Striker has active agents he could assign to this, or even other contractors?”
“There must be a reason he came to us.”
“I’m tellin’ you, say no.”
Razor got where Gunner was coming from, but the minute Fatale said it was one of the twins, he knew that if it was Ava and she was in some kind of danger, he would never forgive himself if he didn’t protect her.
Conflict of interest? Hell, yeah, but his conscience would overrule any logic his brain threw at him. Or maybe it was his heart that would do the overruling.
3
“Damn, they’re hot,” said Penelope, coming up to stand next to Ava and Aine.
“Right?” said her twin, looking at Gunner and Tabon like they were pieces of wedding cake.
“You had a thing for Razor, didn’t you, Ava?” asked Pen.
She shrugged. A thing? She had a twenty-minute conversation with him; he bought her a drink, and then she spent the last year fantasizing about him. Yeah, that would probably constitute a thing.
“I’ve got my eye on the other one, anyway.”
“He seems grouchy, Pen,” said Aine. “But then you usually go for that type.”
“Yep, the broodier, the better, I always say.”
Ava rolled her eyes. Aine was right. Penelope was her own worst enemy when it came to her taste in men. Every man she’d dated, as far back as she could remember, was an asshole in Ava’s opinion. Once Penelope set her sights on someone, though, she could be relentless.
“Mercer’s brothers are pretty hot,” she said, wishing she could convince Pen to go for one of them instead.
“Too boring.”
“Mercer isn’t boring,” said Aine.
“Okay, well, that doesn’t mean they aren’t. Plus they’re both too young.”
That was the other thing about Penelope. Unless they out-aged her by at least ten years, they were “too young.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Tara, coming back from the ladies’ room.
“Ranking the groomsmen on a hotness scale,” answered Ava. “I say Tabon is a habanero, Pen says Gunner’s a serrano, and both of Mercer’s brothers are sweet bell peppers.”
“I totally disagree,” said Tara. “Hudson is a Carolina Reaper.”
“Ew,” groaned Pen. “You always go for those baby-faced little boys.”
Tara rolled her eyes. “He’s older than we are.”
