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With that bit of information, the three of them divest themselves of their weapons. Not that it’s required. Guardians, and Protectors alike, hold special assignment status with the US Marshalls. That allows us to enter places like airports and bypass security with little to no fuss.
It also raises eyebrows, incites speculation, and draws way more attention than we want. Sometimes, it’s useful to flash a badge. Other times, it’s better to fly under the radar.
This is more of a get-in-and-get-out-without-being-noticed kind of gig.
My part is easy. Drop my teammates off, circle around the airport until they make contact with the client, then pick everyone up at the curb.
If I’m lucky, this will take no more than an hour, or two. We only need to fill in the gap before Chase takes over Protector duties. Then it’s back to the townhouse.
Back to Kaye.
And back to my growing obsession with the pretty blonde. Why, or what, is different about her? Any other woman and I wouldn’t look twice, but somehow, she worked her way under my skin.
FIVE
Kaye
Barbi’srelentless digging gets on my nerves. Not in a bad way, but in the fun, best friend kind of way.
“If you want Zeb, you can have him.” I chuck one of my shirts at her face. “Now, stop teasing me.”
“Well, I just need to know if we need to come up with some kind of signal?” Her eyebrows knit together, as if she’s serious, but from the curve of her lips, she’s totally having fun with me.
“Signal?” Curiosity replaces that niggling annoyance.
“You know—like if there’s a sock on the door, it’s because you and Zeb are in here doing the nasty?”
Her suggestion sends a wave of embarrassment coursing through me. My cheeks heat for what must be the twentieth time today. I hate how I wear my emotions on my sleeve.
I groan and shake my head.
“Oh my God. You’re horrible. I just met the guy and you already have us in bed? We’re not talking about this.”
I want to ignore what she says and return to the mundane task of folding my clothes, but she’s having too much fun. A surge of vulnerability rises in my chest.
“You may be done, but I’m not. I wouldn’t be your friend if I didn’t tell you not to let what happened with Professor Parker cloud your judgment when it comes to other men. You know you like him and don’t pretend otherwise.”
The hurt inflicted upon me by Scott is like an open wound. It’s hard to step away from it. Hard to think about venturing into the unknown with another man.
Doesn’t she know this?
Barbi goes back to making a dent in my clothes. I join her, wordlessly, losing myself to the rhythm of tidying up our room. Her words linger in my head, repeating over and over. Which makes me think about what it would be like to be with Zeb. Another flush creeps into my cheeks.
“Ladies…” Carmen’s singsong voice drifts down the hall. Her light steps follow, announcing her presence. By the time she arrives, we’ve made a major dent in folding the pile of my clothes. Barbi and I work quickly as a team.
“How’s it going?” Carmen pokes her head in our room—still weird to think of Barbi’s room as mine.
“How’s Rosalie?” I twist, looking over my shoulder to see Carmen better.
“She’s good. Almost moved in.” Carmen’s smile is as warm as ever. Sometimes, it’s hard to believe the trauma she’s endured. She doesn’t mention Rosalie has precious little to move in.
The two of them went on a major shopping excursion, buying all the things. Considering Rosalie arrived on US soil with nothing but the clothes on her back, it was a mega shopping event.
After a few days of questions and debriefings with the Guardians, Carmen and Rosalie were finally allowed to return to the townhouse, which brings us to this moment.
“And you? How are you doing?” Barbi exchanges a look with me.
We’re concerned about the effect recent events have had on our friend. Carmen basically lost her home and her father in one fell swoop.
