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When I got to Taffet Events, though, the man was still deep asleep, despite the afternoon sunlight beating down on his face. I ended up pulling Quinn out of the tiny car, wrapping an arm around his waist, and half carrying him up the stairs to his apartment. Platonically.
After stripping him down to a sexy-as-fuck pair of tiny boxer briefs and putting him in bed—again, platonically—I forced myself to give Hercules some attention with a short walk to a nearby park. While Herc was busy running off his pent-up energy, I called the office to check in.
“Hey!” Riggs answered on the first ring. “How’d it go in Nashville?”
I filled Riggs in on the details of the morning, including our new critical mission of acting as undercover landscapers and silo painters. Then I asked him how his day went.
“Fucking awful,” he said glumly. “You remember how I had to set up surveillance at that diner across the street from Carter’s medical practice? Well, I hadn’t realized that Carter’s cousin Kev was acting as his receptionist this week. So, I set up the diversion out in the street to distract the staff while I sent a team in the back entrance, which is standard procedure. But as soon as the music started, Kev—”
Riggsy went on, and I knew I should have paid attention, especially as it concerned another Champion Security contract, but my brain had flipped a switch the second he mentioned his boyfriend.
His rich, Nashville-born-and-bred cardiologist boyfriend.
“…and so now Kev is fucking traumatized and vowing to get vengeance against me, and Carter’s pissed and not talking to me, and—”
“Riggs,” I interrupted. “Remember that time you were sunburned on that op and I loaned you my hat, and you said you owed me a favor?”
Riggs was silent for a long, suspicious moment. “I remember it was seven years ago,” he said warily. “And you’ve brought it up every time you needed a favor since then. What’s up?”
“Your boyfriend is a socialite.”
I could sense his surprise over the line. “Uh. I guess? I mean, Carter doesn’t give a shit about any of it and only schmoozes when he has to for the Rogers Foundation, which is really more about pleasing his grandfather, so I don’t know if—”
“Yeah, yeah. Carter’s got all kinds of hidden depths. Total renaissance man. But he’s connected to the highest levels of Nashville society.”
“So what if he is?” Riggs was definitely wary now. “I’m not getting him involved in a mission. Not again. Last time—”
“Last time he got himself involved when he took a contract with Doctors Across Continents and ended up kidnapped,” I pointed out. “My favor involves no danger whatsoever.”
Mostly.
“Oh. Well, then—”
“I need you two to plan a big Nashville wedding and hire Quinn Taffet to manage it.”
The squawking sound on the other end of the line was loud enough to get Herc’s attention. The dog tilted his head at me, and I shrugged in return. “The man is a commitment-phobe,” I whispered to my dog. “Tragic.”
“Dude, I’m not even engaged,” Riggs hissed. “And this is a very not-good time to bring that up, thank you very much. But you want me to plan a wedding big enough to need professional help?”
“Why aren’t you and Carter engaged yet? You have the man’s name tattooed on your—”
“How do you even know that?”
“Listen, I need you to get on it,” I explained, gathering Herc for the walk back to Quinn’s place. “You’ve got five weeks. Propose to Carter like we both know you want to, then have him hire this guy to plan a big to-do. The Rogers name carries a lot of weight in Nashville social circles, and I promised Quinn—”
“Okay, wait. Using Carter’s social pull in Nashville to impress the Howling Turtle dude seems a little over-the-top,” Riggs said.
I stopped in the street and nearly choked Herc when the leash went taut. “I’m not trying to impress anyone. This is business. It’s all about the op.”
“Mmhm. Sure. Since when do you care so much about inconveniencing assets?”
I opened my mouth to snap that Quinn Taffet was not an asset when I suddenly realized Riggs was right, damn it. “Since always because I’m not an asshole, Riggs. And that’s not how Champion Security does business. So stop dicking around, put a ring on it, and make an appointment with Quinn. Five weeks, understood?”
“But—”
“Now, grab a pen because I’ve got a name I need Hux to run for me. First name Scott, last name… unknown at this time. He’s a wedding planner in Nashville. Used to be affiliated with Quinn. Run some business records, and find me his current address.”
“This is still ‘all about the op,’ right?” Riggs asked way too smugly. “Just checking.”
Nosy fucker.
“Riggs, do we need to revisit the communication classes and the team-building exercises? Because I can make that happen for you—”
