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“Back to my office,” I say. “It’s safe there.”
“Where do you work?” Lake asks, eyeing me with those dark brown eyes of hers.
“I run a security company,” I tell her.
“Oh! So that’s why you have a gun.”
“Sure,” I say, pulling into the underground garage and sliding the Jag into my spot. No need to get into a conversation about me being former Task Force Green or a firm supporter of the Second Amendment. Let her think I’m a boy scout, always prepared.
As we get out of the car, I pause, watching Lake slide off her sister, stand up and then glance over at me. I can’t look away. Something about her intrigues me. She’s average height, maybe 5’5”, and I’m trying not to look too closely at the way her t-shirt pulls across her breasts, the flare of her hips or how slim her legs look in her fitted jogger pants which are ripped at the knee. When my cock twitches to glorious life, I swallow hard and turn toward the elevator.
“This way,” I say and stalk over there. The women jog to keep up and I slide my keycard through the slot. The private elevator opens and we step inside.
I notice them exchange a look.
“This is all very clandestine,” Lake murmurs, eyeing me again. “Are you sure you’re not James Bond?”
“Pretty sure,” I reply, fighting to keep a straight face.
“You read too much romantic suspense,” Cameron tells her.
The rest of the ride up is quiet as they openly stare at me and I try not to notice.
When the elevator door slides open, it deposits us in the main lobby of the Slater Security office. It’s after seven, but I see lights are still on and I wonder who’s working late. “This way,” I say, guiding them down the hall to my office. I flip the switch and lights flood the room. “Have a seat.”
As I nod to the couch, Fallon steps into the doorway. “I thought I heard you…” Her voice trails off and she looks from Lake to Cameron sitting on my couch.
A sly smile curves her mouth. “Two women, Slater?” she asks, voice teasing. “Way to go.”
“Shut it, Pierce, and get in here.”
Fallon walks over and props a hip on the corner of my desk.
“Fallon, this is Cameron and her sister, Lake. Cameron and I were having dinner at The Iris when Lake ran in. A couple of men were chasing her and they opened fire.”
“In the restaurant?” she asks, blue-green eyes going wide.
The women nod.
“Oh, my God.” Fallon slides off the desk and walks over, dropping down in front of them. “Are you okay?”
I know the situation hits close to home for Fallon. Years ago, when we were cornered by the enemy in some shithole and didn’t think we were going to make it out alive, she confided in me about losing her parents. She was sixteen and they’d been in a convenience store when a robbery went south fast. Both her parents were shot to death and Fallon probably would’ve died, too, if a good Samaritan hadn’t walked in at the perfect moment and saved her.
The man who came into the store was former military. He shot the robber dead and inspired Fallon to join the Army the day she turned eighteen. She wanted to be able to protect others like the man who had protected her.
Lake and Cameron assure her that they’re fine and Fallon stays beside them, sitting down and crossing her legs. “Why do you think they were after you?” she asks Lake.
“I have no idea. I don’t go anywhere or do anything. Except for my conference. I’m the most boring person in the world.”
“What do you do?” I ask her.
“I’m a-a preschool teacher.”
A preschool teacher?Why would a couple of armed Russian thugs be chasing her down? If she’s as innocent as she seems, it doesn’t make sense.
“Did you witness anything you shouldn’t have?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.
“No,” she immediately answers.
