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“Here, Pépère,” Charlie said as she came bolting through the kitchen door from the outside, Medusa trailing after her. Her arms were laden down with tomatoes.
“Good girl,” the older man behind the stove said as he turned around. “Ah, our guests have arrived,” the man said as he wiped his hands on the apron he was wearing. “Bellissimo!”
Gage glanced over his shoulder at us. “It’s Italian night,” he said with a chuckle. “Dad, this is Everett Shaw,” he said as he motioned to Everett. “And this is Agent Nash.” To us, Gage said, “This, gentlemen, is my father, Phillipe Fortier.”
I guessed Phillipe was in his early seventies and I couldn’t help but think I was looking at what Gage would look like in twenty-five years. Although the man was nowhere near as heavily built as his son, I could see the resemblance in other ways.
Especially in how open their expressions were.
I was so used to working in an environment where you weren’t supposed to know what someone was thinking that it was off-putting to see every thought, every emotion so openly expressed.
“Mr. President, welcome,” Phillipe said as he reached out his hand to Everett.
“Thank you. And please, call me Everett,” Everett easily said. He added something in Italian that had Phillipe smiling wide. And just like that the men began conversing in the other language.
“This could go on for a while,” Gage said to me. “Let me show you around.”
He must have seen my reluctance because he smiled and said, “He’ll be okay for a few minutes.” I watched as Phillipe put his hands on Charlie’s shoulders as the little girl stood between him and Everett and the two men quickly drew her into the conversation, despite her stilted attempt at Italian. Though she clearly wasn’t fluent, she didn’t hesitate in the least to practice the words Everett and Phillipe would supply when she got stuck.
“Or maybe you have other reasons for wanting to stick around?” Gage asked, his voice softer now. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized he’d moved closer to me and spoken in such a way that only I could hear him. My traitorous dick responded to his nearness and I automatically stepped back.
And was rewarded with that damn smirk.
“Or maybe it isn’t about leaving a certain former commander in chief alone at all.”
I fought the urge to grind my teeth together in frustration. Damn the man’s perceptiveness.
“Lead the way,” I said. We might as well have been kids on the playground trying to one-up each other.
Gage moved past me, his arm brushing mine in the process.
A move I just knew was deliberate.
I half-listened as Gage talked about the security for the house. Despite the casual décor and well-lived-in appearance, the house actually had decent security, including an alarm system and secure doors and windows. The main floor included the kitchen, living room, an office, and a guest bedroom which Reese would be using, since he’d initially be reliant upon a wheelchair to get around until he’d made enough progress in his physical therapy sessions to get some mobility back.
I followed Gage up the stairs, trying really hard not to focus on the way his jeans stretched across his ass as he walked.
I failed.
“You like what you’re seeing, Agent Nash?” Gage drawled. When I looked up at him, I felt my cheeks heat as I realized he’d caught me staring at his ass. “With the house?” he added, though he and I both knew he’d added that last part just to fuck with me.
“It’s adequate,” I bit out.
Gage laughed. “Good to know. Anyway, the guest house doesn’t have an alarm, but we can add one.”
“That won’t be necessary,” I said.
“You’re a man of few words, aren’t you, Agent Nash?”
“It’s just Nash,” I said as we reached the second floor. “Not everyone needs to say everything they’re thinking, Mr. Fortier.”
We’d just stepped onto the landing at the top of the stairs when I made the comment, so I wasn’t expecting Gage to stop abruptly.
Or turn around.
Or step toward me.
I automatically moved back, but it took only a couple of steps before my back hit the wall. Gage kept moving forward until he was practically pressed up against me.
I held my body stiff as I forced myself to remain where I was. If I moved away from him, he won.
And I couldn’t allow that.
When Gage finally stopped moving forward, there was probably only an inch or two of space between us. I could smell the spiciness of his deodorant or aftershave, and I could see that his green eyes had flecks of brown and gold in them. My body was going haywire at the close contact and I wondered if I would just completely go up in flames if he actually touched me.
“It’s just Gage, Nash,” Gage murmured as his gaze briefly fell to my mouth before lifting again. “And you should try it some time.”
