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Outraged, Damian snapped the gun from her hand. “Fine,” he huffed and stormed off.
Alex shook his head, unable to suppress a laugh. “You’re like a kid poking the shit out of a hibernating bear,” he said, handing her a fresh ladle to take over the stirring. “One of these days, Damian is going to bite, and it won’t be the sauce he’s serving.”
Jordan simply smiled, her eyes sparkling as she settled into her new duties as sous chef. “He’ll probably need the clip for his gun back, then. If he asks, I left it in his jacket pocket.”
Alex held up the spoon, offering her a taste. “If he quits, you owe me a bodyguard.”
“If you ever get rid of him, I’ll be Madison’s bodyguard,” she offered, her lips wrapping around the spoonful of sauce. “A smidge of cayenne will do this wonders.”
“Damian’s on loan from an old friend, Ari Stavros. I now owe a Greek shipping magnate a favor. And it’s only until Maximillion gets back from helping his dad with hip surgery.”
The joviality in Jordan’s eyes dissipated, replaced with a seriousness that seemed incongruous in the kitchen’s warm atmosphere.
She turned her attention to Alex, her gaze sharp and probing. “Do you have any idea what Paco’s been up to?” she asked, her tone flat and devoid of its earlier humor.
This question came as a surprise to Alex; Jordan worked directly under Paco, usually privy to all his machinations. The fact that she was asking him—implying a lack of knowledge on her part—a weakness—left him uneasy.
Paco.
Alex’s mind circled around his friend of over a decade, his thoughts clouded with worry. What if Paco was knee-deep in something treacherous? Dangerous? And without backup?
The thought alone made Alex’s stomach clench. If something happened to him...
He shook the thought away, and dove into action, ready to delve into the storm to fish Paco out. He could grab Damian and several others. Bring weapons. Have the chopper ready. But he’d also need to fess up to his wife that he’d be leaving her to fend for herself at this small wedding of a bridal shower.
“Any idea where he is?” he asked Jordan, as he went through a laundry list of must-do’s in his mind.
Jordan’s sly smile was her response. “I always know where people are. Just not what they’re up to.” Her tone was light, but her eyes betrayed a rare seriousness.
Frustrated, Alex ran a hand through his hair. “Then, let’s go.”
“The baby shower,” Jordan reminded him.
She was always like this: an enigma wrapped in a riddle, candy coated in leather. Jordan was here with a blaring panic button shoved in his face, yet nonchalantly reminding him that the timing of this possible rescue mission might clash with that of his wife’s baby shower.
Just as the room filled with an uncomfortable silence, Madison burst into the kitchen, her expression determined, ready for action.
“Go, Alex,” she urged. “I can handle a baby shower.”
“But, what about—” Alex’s words trailed off. His gaze locked with Madison’s, and his unvoiced concerns echoed in the silence.What about the complications with your pregnancy? The risks? What if you need me and I’m not here?
But with Jordan present, this was neither the time nor the place to delve into those worries. At least, not yet. Wrapping Madison into his arms, he drew comfort from her soothing smile. “Who’s going to stuff your face with dessert?”
“Mom and Jess are here,” she assured him, rolling her eyes.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She pressed a sweet kiss onto his lips, then gently, yet forcefully, pushed him away. “You have to go.”
With an arched eyebrow, he turned to Jordan. “Fine, where is Paco?”
His question hung in the air, unanswered. Instead, she presented him with a silk, black blindfold.
“Seriously?” he asked, raw disbelief threading his tone. They’ve known each other for years. Trusted each other. Not to mention it’s the very blindfold he’d had around his wife’s eyes last night.
I swear, she’s way to comfortable rummaging around Madison’s panty drawer.
With the blindfold held high, she dangled it in front of his nose.“Seriously,” she assured him with a grin.
