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I started passing out coffees. “Could I get a secret pocket in the lining of mine?” I heard Gabriel ask the tailor.
Marcus wrote it down. “And what did you have in mind?” he asked Bradan.
Bradan looked embarrassed. “I dunno,” he mumbled, his Northern Irish accent hard but beautiful. He looked at Danny. “All those years, I never bought clothes ‘cos I liked them. I bought what I needed to fit in.”
Danny, who I thought of as The British One, grinned. “Well, you came to the right man. How about a nice three-piece, single-breasted…” He gave Marcus a detailed description and Bradan smiled, relieved.
I handed them each a coffee, then turned and passed one to Cal, who was standing with arms outstretched, being measured. “Thanks,” he rumbled. He kept glancing out of the windows at New York, looking a little disconcerted. He felt out of place here, more than the others, and it wasn’t just his plaid shirt and worn jeans. “You okay?” I asked gently.
He looked out of the window again. “Eight million people,” he muttered, then shook his head. “It’s a little more than I’m used to.”
After a few days, things had fallen into a routine. By day, JD and two or three others would keep watch around the office, or come with me if I had to go out to a meeting or an event. At night, the ones who’d been on duty would go back to the hotel and some fresh team members would watch the penthouse. I got used to hearing Rufus’s collar rattling as he patrolled the hallways with Cal, and to the way Bradan tended to lurk unseen in corners. I bonded with all of them, from the coolly professional Kian in his designer suits to the rough, bearded Colton (who I had to ask to tone down his cursing around Cody: I got a shame-faced yes ma’am). I found them all a lot easier to get along with than the corporate types I had to deal with at work. And I felt much, much safer having them all there. The constant stress, that ache around my chest, eased a little.
The only problem was JD and me. Whenever I saw him, I felt this deep, brutal ache for what could have been, made worse by the fact I knew he was hurting, too. It would have been easier if I could have been mad at him, but I wasn’t. I just wanted him to be okay.
And it wasn’t like the attraction had gone away: whenever we were in the same room for more than a few seconds, I could feel it building: I’d catch him stealing little glances at me when he thought I wasn’t looking and then become aware that I was doing the same. He’d brush against me in the hall and I’d feel my whole body come alive, every inch of my skin throbbing under my suit. I’d feel his hand on my back when we were out at an event, and I’d close my eyes for a second, luxuriating in his touch, savoring it because it was all I’d get of him all day. It was agony.
One evening, while Cal was teaching Cody how to whittle a stick, I walked past the kitchen and saw Danny on his own in there, brewing tea. I checked no one else was around and then sidled in.
Danny turned around and gave me a big, wide grin. He really was charming. I could completely see why JD’s little sister had fallen for him.
“You’re JD’s best friend…right?” I asked.
He turned back to his tea-making. I could feel him debating, not sure if he should get involved. Then he slowly turned around, opening himself up to me. “Tea?” he asked.
I nodded. “Please.”
He started to make me one. “I’m sorry for what happened. For what it’s worth, he didn’t mean to hurt you. He can be a grumpy, stubborn bastard but there’s not an evil bone in his body.”
“I know,” I said quietly. Then, “Jillian and Max…he hasn’t let them go, has he?”
Danny crushed the teabag mercilessly against the side of the mug, extracting every last drop of tea from it, then dropped it in the trash. “No. He hasn’t.” He added milk, passed me the mug and then sighed, hanging his head. “His family was his whole world. He used to be lighter. He’d laugh. But when he lost them, the way it happened…he changed.”
I thought about the pain I saw in JD’s eyes, a wound that was still raw. And the advice he’d given me, on the way to my speech. “He didn’t grieve properly, did he?”
Danny’s lips tightened. “I don’t reckon he grieved at all.” He went quiet for a moment, turning his mug around and around in his hands. “He ever tell you about his dad?”
