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Not wonder if my saying something monumentally stupid means we were always meant for more.
* * *
I dropher off at home the next day after leaving the airport and then beeline it to the office.
Technically, we haven’t gotten the all clear.
Technically, I don’t give a shit.
I can’t spend another second in that house pretending Delia just shares a wall and hasn’t been warming my bed for the past week.
The whole time I’m in the operation center, hunched over a secure computer, I can’t stop thinking about those big brown woebegone eyes the last time we kissed just before she hopped out of my truck.
Christ, I need distance.
And just when I think I’m about to get it, a hand like a bear paw claps me on the shoulder.
“You massive skirt-chasing buffalo, what thehellwere you thinking?”
Before I can whirl around, Sexton wheels my chair against the wall. For a grizzled man who’s almost twice my age, he’s pure muscle, and what he lacks in size, he makes up for with a chip on his shoulder bigger than a sequoia tree.
“Not even a hello?” I grind out.
“Fuck you, Triton. You think you’re being cute in the middle of this, scaring me half to death?”
“Now you’re telling me we’re not safe here in our own office? You really want me under house arrest?”
“I want you to stay put in one city, not risking tripping over your own dick. When I heard you blew town for your Vegas excursion with that girl, I wanted to go there myself to drag you back. Only, the boss disagreed—and justlookwhat happened.”
His nostrils flare.
His wide, scruffy face resembles an overcooked beet.
If I didn’t feel a little bad about winding up Sex this much, I’d probably die laughing.
“I got us key intel, didn’t I? Even if it happened by accident—”
“Accident? You could’ve wound up with a nice accidental hole through your temple or worse for that pretty little girl. Guess she’s wised up to what it means to have you in the family right quick, though.” He snorts, finally releasing me.
While I stagger to my feet again, I watch him pinch the bridge of his nose, his eyes sealed shut.
“Look, I know it wasn’t my finest hour. I never expected to have Joaquin berserkers coming after me on the streets of Vegas. Let alone target Delia.”
He gives me that pissed off glare I’ve seen a hundred times.
It’s the same look that says how much he cares about his crew, even if we’re turning his last few dark hairs silver in record time.
“Goddammit, Triton. The next time you misinterpret orders to go off gambling, you—”
“Jones, that’s enough,” a younger voice clips behind us, and we turn.
I think that tall, imposing figure and glacial blue eyes could shut up a pack of hyenas tearing into a gazelle.
Landon Strauss strides toward us, wearing the same no-nonsense scowl that commands everyone’s respect.
I’ve only interacted with the big boss a few times since coming on board, and I never quite know what to say. He’s a busy man, more legend than physical presence in the office, ever since Enguard became the finest security company this side of the Mississippi.
“I’m sorry, Boss. I was trying to convince Triton here to cool his heels and not work so hard to get himself killed.” Sexton scratches his beard.
