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“You have no idea,” Peyton said, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Nate is a grade-A grumpy bastard, and both Will and Misha are the complete opposite. Seeing the three of them together is always great entertainment value. But they’re as close as brothers. Well…” His grin turned sly. “Pretty sure what Nate and Misha do on the rare occasion all three of them are in the same place isn’t very brotherly.”
Sebastian choked on his coffee. Jericho burst out laughing as Quinn rubbed his back.
“What are you really doing here?” Peyton asked suddenly. “Is ‘bodyguard’ work really part of your job?”
“Sometimes.” Rarely. Jericho didn’t like to use the word “never.” He was inevitably proven wrong.
Itshouldhave ended when Dane and Errol had been killed by Peyton. He was unsurprised that it hadn’t. Jericho had been on the inside, trying to work out where they had come from, and he had a feeling that whoever had just come out of the woodwork had something to do with that. Whoever they were, they were slippery as fuck and proving more dangerous than any of them could have anticipated. They’d hoped not to have gotten anyone else involved, but trust Sebastian—of all of Hunter’s assets—to be the one that caused the most trouble.
“Sebastian is an important asset, so him being a target gets us involved.”
“And you recruit the boyfriends of all your assets?” Quinn asked dryly. Peyton shot him a look, but Quinn pointedly ignored it, his grey gaze not straying from Jericho.
“Not all of our assets have boyfriends with such an impressive skillset.”
“Don’t you have enough people?”
“Sure,” Jericho said easily. There was no “perfect” number; they’d been operating with the seven of them for a long time. That didn’t mean he and Hunter couldn’t add more. They just hadn’t found anyone they wanted to fold into the team.
“Why me and not Will? Or Quinn?”
“Couple of reasons,” Jericho said. “You’re a free agent; they aren’t. You straddle the line more than they do. We’re looking for people that are a little more… flexible.” They were sanctioned, and the government was well aware of their movements. Not everything they did was cookie-cutter, good-guy business. Sometimes they had to get their hands dirty to get the job done. The results were making the world a safer place; their methods had the kind of wriggle room that regular law enforcement didn’t have.
“And you think I am?”
Jericho didn’t answer that. His eyes met Peyton’s hard, challenging gaze. They both knew that he lived in the grey even if he didn’t want to admit it. No one got a reputation and a record like he had if they didn’t find joy in the kill. Peyton wasgood,and the reason behind that was that he got satisfaction from it. His passion and his talent mixed into a lethal weapon, and they wanted it for their own.
“I want the smooth one,” Will mumbled. His head shifted on Jericho’s lap. His eyes were still closed. Jericho looked to Peyton for translation.
Peyton shrugged, at a loss. “Not sure. Peanut butter? He hates the crunchy kind. Thinks that if he wanted to eat peanuts, he’d just go and eat peanuts.”
Quinn stifled a yawn. Jericho felt a twinge of guilt for keeping them all up. Considering that Quinn and Sebastian’s names were next to “workaholic” in the dictionary, their sleep patterns would already be pretty fucked up.
The TV was fixed on the “menu” screen for thePhineas and FerbDVD, the preview playing over and over again like an inhumane psych experiment. He had way too many questions about the entire show. He just knew he was going to have weird dreams.
“You can interrogate me later about all the reasons why we want you,” Jericho said, though he’d pretty much outlined all the major points. It was self-explanatory. Anyone who had seen Peyton’s resume and service record wouldn’t question it. “I’m tired, and I need my beauty sleep.” He gestured at himself with one hand. “This doesn’t maintain itself.”
“Well, we can’t have that,” Peyton said with a snorted laugh. He emptied his mug with a long swig and put it on the coffee table. He crouched down in front of Will and trailed the tips of his fingers down his cheek. “Will,” he said gently. He leaned forward and kissed him softly, going back for seconds. “Time to wake up.”
“Will there be food?” Will murmured.
Was he still asleep?
“I can get you something on the way,” Peyton cajoled.
One eye cracked open. “Promise?”
“Promise,” Peyton said with an indulgent smile. “C’mon.”
Peyton helped him sit up, and Jericho placed a hand on his lower back as Peyton levered him up to his feet. “Awake?”
“Mmm.” He didn’t look awake. If he hadn’t spoken, Jericho would have guessed sleepwalking. A zombie shuffling in a man’s body.
Peyton rubbed Will’s stomach lovingly. “Say good night.”
Will surprised Jericho by bending, bracing one hand on the back of the couch, and giving him a brief kiss on the mouth. Peyton’s smirk was knowing, and Jericho ignored it.Hehadn’t initiated that; it was hardly his fault.
Peyton turned his back to Will and encouraged him to put his hands on Peyton’s hips. “I’ll lead.”
