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I brush my lips over hers. “Behave.”
She backs out of my reach.
Tom grunts when I pass him, slapping his shoulder. There’s a fresh beer waiting, and Jimmy hands it over.
“So, I guess you and I should talk about my job.”
The surrounding murmurs quiet, and the hair on the back of my neck prickles. My eyes slice around before coming back to him. “Your job?”
“Yeah, Harley says you’re making a career change. Interested in becoming an accountant.”
I freeze, beer lifted mid-air, completely caught off-guard. The silence lasts a few beats before Talon howls, followed by the rest. Jimmy’s lips twitch, revealing he’s aware of the inside joke. My gaze travels to Harley, whose hand is covering her mouth while her body vibrates.
“Bunch of smart asses,” I mumble, not able to hold in my amusement.
Oh, the ways Harley will pay for that later.
30
Harley
“Where are you?” Achilles barks in greeting.
“Hello, how are you? How’d your afternoon with the girls at the spa go? Are you excited about tonight? Don’t be nervous, you’ll kill it,” I snap back sarcastically.
“Baby, I’ll ask all those questions when I see you, which was supposed to be ten minutes ago.”
I check the time and realize we’re cutting it close. “I’m at the house, where you told me to meet you.”
“I meant this house, so we’d ride over together.”
“I misunderstood when you said ‘our house’!”
“Don’t go in without me. I’ll be there in two.” The line disconnects, and it’s my turn to huff.
“Ridiculous manners.” I get out of my car, tightening my scarf as the frigid wind bites in the air. My frustration fades when I notice the progress of the house.
Tonight is my first big event as a marketing partner with MJ Labels, and I’ve been working late every night for two weeks. It’s a charity event tied to three of the label’s rock-based bands. It has been in the works for months and became my responsibility when I started.
Achilles and Major only lasted one week on desk duty before Hal took pity on them and pulled some strings, getting them on a unit assigned to a special investigation. Since Achilles and I were both working long days, it was too dark to see the development of the house when we got home. Achilles checks with our contractor every day, and the guys have given updates, but this is the first time I’ve seen it.
My heart hammers in my chest, my breath catching.
This kind of progress is nothing short of amazing.
And I have my overbearing fiancé to thank for that.
The night after ladies’ night at Tom’s, Achilles came home and informed me my lease was up mid-March. This was something I knew since I lived there for years. The leasing agent had already agreed to month to month.
I thought this was forward-thinking, responsible, and organized. Since Christmas in Costa Rica, Achilles and I had spent every night together. Except for the nights at Tom’s, we had settled into a domestic routine. When the guys were home, we had a great time, all fitting together. But I didn’t feel right living at the Club full time.
Inevitably, Achilles was going back to working nights at some point. Which meant I would return to my apartment.
He disagreed whole-heartedly. He wanted me to give up my apartment and move in until the house was complete.
Actually, he didn’t want it; he demanded it in his impatient, stern, and no-nonsense way. I lost my temper, refusing to even discuss it, and pitched the mother of all fits. My threats to pack up my stuff and leave that night until he could have a two-way discussion ended up with me naked and screaming for many different reasons.
It wasn’t my fault. The instant he threw me on the bed and ripped off my clothes, my body betrayed me. He was relentless in his sexual persuasion, fucking all the fight out of me.
With my one functioning brain cell that remained, I offered a compromise. I’ll give up my apartment and move my stuff into storage if the house is completed by my birthday on April twenty-fourth. In my mind, this was clever because there was no way he could make it happen. It was the middle of winter, and it snowed in Nashville frequently. Construction delays would hold up the completion.
He knew it was all but impossible to ensure me that, but he took the challenge.
Achilles called our builder and told him our aggressive timeline. I expected a pissed-off brute when the man laughed at the demand. But instead, I received a call the next day asking to finalize all my special requests and customizations.
They were also taking the challenge to finish. Probably because Achilles didn’t give them a choice.
Today is the day. Based on what we see inside, we will know if they’ll meet the deadline.
A blur of blue and the faint sound of an engine gets my attention. Achilles is speeding over the empty lots in the golf cart. It’s barely stopped when he’s out and in my space.
