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A small smile, and this one is real. “All of my equipment is still in your glass box.”
“Are you finding problems for all of my solutions?”
She gazes around the kitchen that sparkles as much as the rest of the house. “This place is perfect. Nothing needs painting.” She sighs, and it’s sad. “Where’s Dolly?” Her mother’s on her mind. Painting. Dolly.
“In the driveway,” I say, and she looks toward the window, nodding.
“And the keys?”
“Are somewhere.” Where she can’t find them. I knew she’d ask for Dolly. She can have her, but driving her? No. “I’ve got to go out.” I need to go back to my glass box and fetch some things. Namely, my mini arsenal of weapons to see us by until Danny’s contact delivers.
“Where?”
“My place.”
“Can I come with you?” she asks, light lifting in her eyes.
“Why? You want to return to the place where you fell in love with me?” Who the fuck knows what I’ll find when I go there? My home, my fortress, was infiltrated by the enemy when the shit truly hit the fan. I may have killed the culprits, but The Bear has more men. Slaying two won’t have fazed him.
“Maybe.” She shrugs, more light shining in her gaze. But I’m about to dilute it, and I hate that.
“Not today.” I massage her shoulder blades, working my hands deep into her muscles. It’s a tactic I’m not afraid to use. Soften her. Blind her. “But one day,” I promise. “You’ve yet to finish my office.”
“You’ve yet to compensate me for my time,” she quips, and I smile, diving in for a kiss, swallowing us both whole with needed closeness.
“I’ll pay you in abundance every day for the rest of my life.” It’s a vow I’ll never break.
I look up over Beau’s shoulder when I hear movement at the door, finding Rose hovering there. “Sorry,” she murmurs. “I can come back.”
“It’s fine.” I turn Beau between my thighs to face Rose, smiling at the small handgun in her grasp.
She looks down at it, purses her lips, and tucks it behind her back. “They’re all the rage.” She rolls her eyes, looking exasperated. The feel of Beau jerking a little in my hold, laughing, does inexplicable things to my heart.
“Then I must get one,” she jokes, as I reach into the back of my jeans and pull out a matching gun.
I hold it out in front of her, and her head drops. “Didn’t want you to feel left out.”
Another laugh. “I’d think you’re playing,” she says, taking it from my hand. “But I know you.” She releases the magazine and inspects it, before smacking it back into the chamber.
Rose’s eyes widen. “Oh God, I bet you’re an amazing shot, aren’t you?” She wanders over, the gun looking plain awkward in her grasp. “I forget you were a cop.”
“She’s a great shot,” I say, lifting us both from the stool. “I can attest to that.” I give Beau a high brow, and her lips fall into a straight line. Any other man wouldn’t have stood a chance. Lucky for me, I’m a fast ducker. Plus, she wasn’t on true form, her broken wrist hampering her aim. On that thought, I check her now bare arm. She’s constantly clenching her fist, always circling her wrist, as per Doc’s instructions, trying to get some strength and movement back.
“You tried to shoot him?” Rose asks over a gasp. “You have to teach me.” She looks down at the gun again. “The last time I fired a gun, I aimed at a forehead and took out an eye socket.” Rose stills, frowning at her weapon for a few moments. “Ladies’ lunch?” she breathes, looking up a little dazed. I catch Beau’s curiousness. I bet that’s a story about to be told. Good. I’ll take all the distractions.
“Go get ready,” I say, patting Beau’s arse. “Check in every hour and be nice to your personal protection officer.”
“Who’s my personal protection officer?” she asks my back as I walk away.
“They’ll meet you in the foyer in half an hour.” Could be longer. Goldie and Otto are still arguing over who gets the pleasure.
When I get back to Danny’s office, I find what I knew I would. Goldie snarling at Otto. “I want to speak to HR,” she mutters. “This is discrimination.” As if to prove her point, she takes her gun from behind her back fast, disengages the safety faster, and has it aimed at Otto’s head even faster than that.
He backs up, hands in the air. “Will someone put a fucking leash on it?” he asks, exasperated. One of Danny’s men, Ringo, chuckles across the room. He pays for it, Goldie’s aim quickly moving to his chest.
“Pardon?” she asks, her head tilting, daring him to mock her again.
“Didn’t say a word.” He waves a hand indifferently, taking a seat on the couch next to Nolan and Brad.
